the sand is blistering, the sun blinding, the heat debilitating. a girl in a dark jacket is out of place on a desert planet, a sore thumb sticking out against the pale backdrop of ground and sky. she would remove it, discard it without a second thought, if it hadn’t been an old item of han’s. all that remains of him now, with his body in a chasm and his son a cold blooded killer. tooth grinds against tooth as the younger solo forces the memories out of her mind, banishes them to the same dark corner reserved for those first few happy years before her brother set fire to any peaceful future, and choked her on the ashes. ana’s fingers curl unwittingly into fists, and she just barely convinces herself that it’s the coarseness of the sand that makes her eyes tear involuntarily. luke was right, tattooine was a menace to the galaxy. she shouldn’t have come here.
and then he is felt before he is heard or seen, a faint shift in the flow of the force she has grown accustomed to. something clicks back to its place, returns to where it is meant to be, and it is as if fate tells her ‘ yes, there it is, the thing you’ve been missing, that piece that’s been gone and leaving you feeling empty, it’s returned home now ’. it brings her nausea to know that someone who has been the cause of so much pain is the one thing she craves, the only one she loves unconditionally, even after all of his crimes. she keeps her back to him, fixing her gaze on anything and nothing, so long as she can spare herself the sight of her disgraced brother for a few moments longer. ❛ you shouldn’t be here. don’t you have some more lives to go ruin, or did you get a day off? ❜