@commandsvictory asked: ‘ grief is just love with no place to go . ’ ( for emil ) / miscellaneous quotes.
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 attached to him, binding him to being a padawan, EMIL STILL CARRIES THE BRAID; it now sits in his hand, fingers running along the material gently as ahsoka speaks, unable to look her in the eye yet. (he still doesn’t know how they are sitting together, finding a moment of peace, after everything he’s done, after how far he’s fallen). he swallows thickly, closing his fist around the braid, before managing a soft laugh, more genuine than he expected it to sound. “if master windu heard me agreeing with sentiments about love, i suspect he’d have a whole lecture for me.” master windu, another victim of the order that wiped the jedi order out in hours. master windu, who’d trained him since he was a boy. master windu, who he wanted to be like more than anything. (he’d wanted to make the jedi proud: he supposes his potential to fall to the dark side had always been present, considering the pride and anger that came with praise and admonishment). finally, he looks up, searching the other’s eyes for her emotions, but he’d become so disconnected from the force over the years, despite thinking he was getting a better control of it. emil had cursed himself — he hadn’t needed the help of any sith lord. “i know the hurt he brought you. all of the council. i’m — I’M SORRY.” it was not as if emil could have done anything to help ahsoka, with his status still being padawan like hers. but at the time, he’d agreed with windu’s reasonings, his logic. the code was strict, it was to be lived to by the letter. ahsoka was the one who had done wrong, not them. force, how wrong he’d been.
𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐒 dragged from his lips then, still gentle despite the coursing anger and grief beneath his skin. “i guess we’ve both been through enough grief for a few lifetimes, huh?” she doesn’t need a reminder of it, of course; he can’t imagine what she’s been through the last few years, and yet here she sits, willing to attempt to drag him back to the light. (no, that’s not it: to attempt to drag him away from the dark, closer to some kind of middle ground where he could at least find his footing, then decide what he wanted). he glances down again, shaking his head. “is it wrong, to miss him? someone i know taught me the wrong lessons, who hurt people, who — ” WHO HURT ME. he can’t force the words out, but he knows they’re true. windu was his master, and he had build the foundations that emil stood on, all to then crumble. of course, he couldn’t blame windu anymore, not when he’d so willingly closed his eyes and taken the backwards steps. emil tucks the cord away, the weight of holding on to it becoming to great to bear in this moment. “balance — i think i’m still learning how to find it.” he admits, clearing his throat. it’s hard to find balance when right and wrong can’t even be differentiated, and she had so clearly witnessed his struggle with that. he wasn’t supposed to feel grief like this, love like this. that wasn’t their way. (BUT HE’S LOST HIS WAY). “i’m sorry. for everything.” he repeats, as if he hasn’t said it so many times already. but he means it: ahsoka was far wiser than he, and had managed to chip away at the armor that he’d built up without the order. he couldn’t be more thankful, and more remorseful of how he was before.
