#astranovus

𓏲ּ𝄢 ─── padmé shields her eyes against tatooine’s twin suns as she approaches the modest dwelling carved into the sandstone bluff, its humble archway and worn steps stirring memories of the wide-eyed boy who’d once greeted her at a doorway much like this one. her fingers twists at the edge of her travel cloak. it’s a nervous habit she’d never quite been able to break. she’d rehearsed the words a thousand times in the weeks since they’d first met, since luke and leia had looked up at him with those wide, wondering eyes that saw a stranger where she saw everything they’d lost.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

they’re your children.

padmé pauses at the threshold, her hand hovering over the weathered wood. only, they weren’t though, were they? not really. she drops her hand then, the words dying unspoken in the dry air as she thinks of anakin. still, doesn’t shared genetics mean something? doesn’t it make him their father in some fundamental, undeniable way, even if he’d never lived the life that created them? the thought lingers, unresolved, as the door swings open before her.

“oh.” she looks up, and, despite the weight of her thoughts, a smile finds its way to her lips. it’s genuine, if touched with something bittersweet. “i’m sorry, i’m a little early, aren’t i?” she shifts the bundle in her hand, raising it by the cord so it dangles between them. “i wanted you to have them while they were still warm. i wasn’t sure if—” she hesitates, suddenly feeling a little silly, but hands it to him nonetheless. “i thought it might be… appropriate. for tatooine.”

sand cakes, that is.

"..."

It had taken him time to manifest, all in all: the Dark Side was the path to many -many- abilities, but this one was all Qui-Gon's, and his legendary stubbornness, and the Sith that had been Master Dooku, once upon a time, had not had it necessarily easy to be there.

But he was there, a ghost himself, and not pleased about it, as he regarded Anakin's chosen place of residence.

The Sith did not let himself feel sorrow for the state of the Galaxy, only sorrow -he told himself- that he had not been there to rule it instead of Sidious.

      How many times had she come back to this barren moon in the middle of nowhere? How many times did she come to give a quiet prayer to her lost squad? She didn’t know...but it always gave her a slight comfort to come to the sight. A broken ship and their graves mounded before it. She knelt before them, a fist in a palm before her as she silently  gave her greeting to them. Maybe next time she’d bring Rex.

But that’s when she felt it. A disturbance in the force. She wasn’t alone here. In an instant she turned, sabers drawn only to be met with a sight she thought she’d never see again. Her make to attack pausing in mid swing. Was she dreaming?

No...it couldn’t be. He was-....

　　　“We really should do that more often. I kinda like bein’ a distraction,” Sarsi commented with a smirk, pouring out a glass of whiskey in her ship’s galley. They were currently in hyperspace after escaping by the skin of their teeth, but they were alive, her ship was in tact, and they had the info and supplies they were after. The skin tight sensual red dress she was wearing now had an improvised slit to the hip, an improvement really as far as she was concerned. She poured out another glass and slid it across the counter to her partner.

@astranovus  :      what   do   you   want   then?