Pyre
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2014
- Messages
- 108
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Six years.
She'd expected the estate to look different. She'd expected it to look the same. Expected it to be a charred mark on the landscape, an obvious target for the Imperial attack out of spite if nothing else. Expected...hoped, that it would be exactly as she had left it that day six years ago.
She found it more or less the last. There was damage, to be sure: the garden had several burned craters scattered throughout it, the walkway leading up to the building was changed by blaster fire. Poetically, her room had been struck by what she imagined had been a shipboard laser battery, and all that remained of the nice little space was char and ash mixed into the soil. The house droids had closed it off, unable to effect repairs on their own. The rest of the building was basically intact; enough so that she could hear the memories she had there as she walked through it, trailing fingers along the wall.
That was where Zelie had taught her to cook a traditional Naboo dish and she' only set it on fire once, thank you. That was where she'd clumsily painted something and gotten exasperated with the woman until she realized the point of the exercise. The last place they'd performed a morning routine together was still intact in the garden, and she could feel the lingering traces of affection, and love. Like remembered sunshine.
Sparks whistled low from the house, and she turned back towards the gold-colored astromech.
"I expect he'll be here soon, yes. Council members are busy, but there's something to be said for nostalgia."
Not even being facetious, as she said it. Rubbing her left arm for the twinge it was giving off again: she'd need to get it properly looked at and calibrated some time soon. But this came first. Meeting him, the last one she'd been the least bit close to before she functionally severed herself from the Jedi. The first one she wanted to talk to properly, as she tried to return.
She'd sent him a message, inviting him. Not directly of course, that wasn't a thing one did with Kai anymore, at least not one like her. But she'd sent it with a surety of it getting to him, and from there all there was to it was to wait. She felt sure, in that way that was more than a hunch. Something to be said for nostalgia, indeed.
She'd expected the estate to look different. She'd expected it to look the same. Expected it to be a charred mark on the landscape, an obvious target for the Imperial attack out of spite if nothing else. Expected...hoped, that it would be exactly as she had left it that day six years ago.
She found it more or less the last. There was damage, to be sure: the garden had several burned craters scattered throughout it, the walkway leading up to the building was changed by blaster fire. Poetically, her room had been struck by what she imagined had been a shipboard laser battery, and all that remained of the nice little space was char and ash mixed into the soil. The house droids had closed it off, unable to effect repairs on their own. The rest of the building was basically intact; enough so that she could hear the memories she had there as she walked through it, trailing fingers along the wall.
That was where Zelie had taught her to cook a traditional Naboo dish and she' only set it on fire once, thank you. That was where she'd clumsily painted something and gotten exasperated with the woman until she realized the point of the exercise. The last place they'd performed a morning routine together was still intact in the garden, and she could feel the lingering traces of affection, and love. Like remembered sunshine.
Sparks whistled low from the house, and she turned back towards the gold-colored astromech.
"I expect he'll be here soon, yes. Council members are busy, but there's something to be said for nostalgia."
Not even being facetious, as she said it. Rubbing her left arm for the twinge it was giving off again: she'd need to get it properly looked at and calibrated some time soon. But this came first. Meeting him, the last one she'd been the least bit close to before she functionally severed herself from the Jedi. The first one she wanted to talk to properly, as she tried to return.
She'd sent him a message, inviting him. Not directly of course, that wasn't a thing one did with Kai anymore, at least not one like her. But she'd sent it with a surety of it getting to him, and from there all there was to it was to wait. She felt sure, in that way that was more than a hunch. Something to be said for nostalgia, indeed.
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