#forcesensing

; i hate u, @skywclkiing & @forcesensing.

“Why are we here? It’s sandy and HOT and smelly.  Is it because I broke the picture? When can we go home?                Where’s BEN, is he coming too?”

The questions are honest and innocent, the girl too young to notice the tension in her father’s shoulders; the tears her mother is so desperately trying to hold back. She walks in the middle of the two of them, both of her tiny hands lost in theirs. Sometimes when they walk like this they will swing her by the arms, lifting her so that she f l i e s through the air, only for a second or two at most but to her it always feels longer, although not long enough. Dad promises her that he will teach her to really fly, one day, and the thought makes her giddy with excitement. For a moment she considers asking them to swing her now, but they are not talking like they usually do and the look on her father’s face makes her decide otherwise.

She walks.

Tiny feet are not made for trudging in the desert however, and she finds herself slowing, then stopping. Her parents look at her, but she sticks her bottom lip out at them, arms crossed defiantly across her chest. It was wrong to break the photo, she knows that, but she didn’tmean to and this punishment seems to outweigh the crime rather heavily.

     “I’m tired, I want to go home.”

She wants to go home, too. Sand peppers her hair and her clothes is already clinging uncomfortably to her limbs. Half of the desert is in her shoes; she might as well be walking barefooted. The sun is unforgiving.

But worst of all, she is clinging to her daughter’s hand, knowing that she will have to let go soon.

Rey isn’t supposed to be here for very long. Just while they sort things out with Ben. He is his father’s son; they should have known rebellion would be in the cards for him. Something pulls at the corner of her lips, but she doesn’t manage a smile. She can’t smile when the prospect of leaving her daughter is so close. In fact, she doubts that she will be able to go through with it. How they managed to drag her to this planet, she isn’t sure.

That is a lie. Leia’s eyes drift to the figure walking on Rey’s other side. Han. Supposedly, he has connections, who will take care of her while they are gone. And, on top of that, he has a pair of eyes, which she has never been able to resist.

Rey’s hand slips out of hers, and Leia finds herself panicking. Her heart triples its speed. It is a wonder she doesn’t reach out and grab it out of sheer force. Because Rey might be scared, but her mother is terrified.

She takes a deep breath. Holds it for a few seconds. Then lowers herself to her daughter’s level, carefully resting a palm on each of Rey’s crossed arms. ❛ This is not because you broke the picture. We have forgiven you for that. This is, ❜ oh, how she wishes she took a last glance at her husband; she could use an encouraging look, ❛ to protect you. ❜ One of Rey’s locks have escaped her hairdo. Leia reaches up to brush it behind her ear, but it falls out a moment later; the lock is too short. For reasons unknown, this simple observation breaks Leia’s heart.