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exitiosae-arch · 2 years ago

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@hopefulsun !!

A companion piece to this post

Luke Skywalker is many things. He is a pilot, a moisture farmer, a nephew, a brother, a rebellion commander and a Jedi Knight. These are the things that he knows, these are the things he claims. He bought them in blood and sweat and tears and hope. They are his.

Above all, Luke is a Skywalker.

Luke was born to a world of sand, on a world of slavery and subjugation. Luke was born under twin suns (twin, twin, half of a whole, something out there something missing). Luke was born and given to a family to raise named Lars. Lars is the name of moisture farmers. It is the name of harsh, desert people who tear back the very water the sands and heat take from them. It is the name of oasis. Lars is not a slave name.

Names mean things on Tatooine. Skywalker means things. It means pilot, mechanic, space-farer. It means the trickster in the night, it means metalworker. But above all, it means slave. Skywalker, Darklighter, Sandhoms, Simwaste—they are all slave names (they are the only thing the slavers cannot take from them).

Luke is born with the name Skywalker but not with what it means. He reaches with hungry hands for scraps of a history that should have always been his, for the sand in his bones and the sky in his eyes (that never should have been his, child, child, you are the joy of us—). But he was raised by Lars, and they do not know what to tell him. Uncle Owen will not speak of the man Luke got his name from, snarls and spits and turns away with a coldness that is better found in the desert night. But Luke has a slave’s name, chipped blood running through his veins; he is the culmination of everyone that came before him. He wants to know. He needs to know.

Tell me about them, he asks the desert. It is bright and it is burning and it is not kind. In the whip of sand around his feet, in whispers back; There was a woman, and there is such quiet tragedy in that, dripping blood and bruises and burned bones, though it is not the desert’s sorrow. She was brave.

Tell me about them, he asks the old, creaking Wookie in the slave quarters. She is old, the oldest slave on Tatooine, and she has been there for longer than some settlements. She knows every family, remembers every soul. There was a woman, she says after a long, long moment. She was kind.

There was a woman, Luke hears, in the spill of blood and of sunlight; in the fire and the sand and the solemn sunrise. She was steady; she was holy; she was a slave; she was free; she was wise.

Luke goes to his Uncle, and asks. Tell me about her. My grandmother. Uncle Owen looks down at him in the heat of the desert day, and sighs. Her name was Shmi…

Luke grew up knowing nothing else about his father other than he was a pilot. He was a spice trader. He did not come back. Luke grew up learning about a sandstorm-stone woman with gentle hands and oil beneath her fingernails.

Luke learned his history from desert and family and slaves (the lines between those last two are blurry and indistinct but still sometimes there). Luke is the first child born without shackles. He is the first child born free. He is the first child to be born with starlight in his blood that is allowed to run free, the first child who gets to walk the sky under his own power, to take his first steps and have them be nothing but his.

He is the first. He is not the only.

Leia is the First Free Daughter, grown tall and strong and hard on a world where she had water and food and love and life (Look at our daughter, the desert whispers. Look at how she has not suffered. Look at how she prospers.).

Leia is dark haired and dark-eyed and water-born. Her brow is heavy with crowns of gold and grief, a ruler of a dead planet (but not a dead people, never a dead people). She has many names. Princess Leia, she snarls. Senator Organa, she introduces, General Organa, she dares, steely-eyed. Leia, she says, and smiles.

She is never Skywalker. She is the politicians daughter, the Queen, the leader, the warrior with righteousness smeared across her teeth like blood bitten and ripped from the throats of the unsuspecting, the undeserving. She is a sea serpent, never a krayt dragon. Her spine is straight and tall and when Luke looks at her, a crown on her brow and fire in her eyes, staring down battles of politics he’ll never really get, he can’t imagine she was born for anything else.

I didn’t grow up like you, Luke, she says. I grew up on Alderaan. I’m from Alderaan.

I’m not from Tatooine, she doesn’t say, but Luke hears it anyway.

She does not want their name, and she doesn’t want to know of their father (the father he never knew, the father who’s name he bore, the father with shackle marks on his wrists and a lightsaber at his side, the son of the woman who loved him, Skywalker, Skywalker, Skywalker). But Luke does not push, does not ever push. She doesn’t want him, the slave-turned-Jedi or the Jedi-turned-Sith or the Sith-turned-savior; she doesn’t claim him. He would never ask her to. Their father has torn the holes in her barehanded that he left in Luke by leaving (rubble and ash and voices screaming right before they go silent, silent, and somehow that’s worse).

No, Luke doesn’t tell her.

But he tells her of a woman named Shmi, in the quiet of the night, curled up in the bunks of the Millenium Falcon, Aunt Beru falling falling falling whenever he closes his eyes. He whispers it in the forests of Yavin VI with the death knell of the Empire still in his ears and his father’s last breaths echoing in his chest. When they sit, collapsed in the remains of an Imperial Stronghold, it spills out of him to pool on the floor with the blood drip, drip, dripping from Leia’s shoulder wound.

All these pieces of them, he gives to her. Skywalker and slave and First Free and Free Born, mechanic and metalworker, skyfarer and pilot and all the things that have loved them. Leia listens, because she loves him and Luke cannot love her and not tell her. She tells him of Alderaan in return, sometimes. Of Breha and Bail and the way they used to braid her hair in the early morning light. She tells him of blue skies and things Luke did not grow up knowing. She tells him of the people who raised her.

What he doesn’t say is this: Leia Organa is a stolen child. Leia is a child of chipped blood and shackled wrists, of sand and wind and sun—and yet she knows the turn of tides and the fall of rain, the rise of mountains and the cover of trees. She knows the sea spray on her face and the break of waves against the rocks, the cold snows of winter. She does not know the whip of sandstorms. She does not know the twin suns, the language they wrote because nothing else was left for them, the Grandmothers and Grandfathers in the slave quarters that shielded them at every turn. She does not know how proud they are of her (child, child, you are the joy of us, look at how you prosper).

Leia says she is not a Skywalker. She has not lived a Skywalker’s life, has not lived the hardship of a Tatooine child, desert sand and twin suns. She grew up in a place far from her grandmother’s bones, in a place where water grew up in place of sand. She was taken away from that. She doesn’t know her history. She doesn’t know what is hers.

Luke doesn’t know how to tell her that she’s lived just as much of a slave’s legacy as he has.

But, Leia loves her adoptive parents. She loves her planet, her people, and Luke knows she will not take it the way he means it (he does not blame the Organas, but the people who love you cannot fill the places that never should have been empty. They cannot fill the beach with lake water and make an ocean). So he doesn’t tell her. She is his only family, the only one that could claim the name of Skywalker along with him, but he holds her hand in knee-deep water and lets her lean on him when Organa weighs on her shoulders. He calls her sister, twin only when no one can hear them (he can claim Leia or he can claim Skywalker, but not both. Not when the tall shadow of their father looms behind him). She is his family and he hers, but he listens to her tell him of things that are just hers, of a water-calm father and a snow-bright mother who raised her tall and strong and determined and royal. Because she is his sister, and he would do anything for her.

Even carry Skywalker on his own.

#//// OH GOD OH GOD #LEIA ORGANA. ( CHAR. STUDY. )#LEIA ORGANA. ( MUSING. )#LEIA ORGANA. ( REL. LUKE. )#( * twins are one soul separated in two bodies but united by birth. / leia&luke — hopefulsun. )#!!!

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comicwaren · 5 years ago

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From Journey to Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker - Allegiance #002, “Troubled Waters”

Art by Luke Ross and Lee Loughridge

Written by Ethan Sacks

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exitiosae-arch · 2 years ago

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HOW DO YOU NEED TO BE TOUCHED?

cautiously. your teeth are bared, as they have been, your jaw aching for so long as growls slip free. you always have to defend yourself. you lash out in fear. you need someone who does not shrink back... a hand falling slowly to your shoulder, however briefly, in a reminder that you do not have to lunge. there is no danger here, now.

#( * leia organa : char. study. )#/ heart ? shattered

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glompcat · 6 years ago

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Star Wars (2015-) #48 - Mutiny at Mon Cala Part V - Written by Kieron Gillen - Art by Salvador Larroca

King Lee-Char’s final dying moments.

He took the throne with Padmé and Anakin there to watch, there to help him liberate his planet during the Clone Wars.

He died and vacated the throne with Leia and Luke there watching, helping him record one final message so his planet could be free of Imperial rule at long last.

#Lee-Char #Leia Organa #Han Solo #Luke Skywalker #Star Wars Comics #Wednesday Spoilers #Star Wars #Star Wars Spoilers #SW Spoilers #Later we see the speech he gave just before this #Leia recorded it to be broadcast to all Mon Calamari #But this the after #the quiet final moments just before his death

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exitiosae-arch · 2 years ago

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@hopefulsun !!

luke and leia are half of a whole. they’re two pieces perfectly cracked in half, because they’ll always be one entity but they can still survive without each other.

luke existed without his sister for only a few minutes. technically, he existed 19 years without her, and so did she. but i doubt they were ever truly without each other.

they were always there in the backs of each other’s minds. i’d imagine that when luke was upset about the way the others at anchorhead mocked him, only twelve and still so naive about so many things, leia felt it across the galaxy.

in the middle of her lessons, she felt sad. she could not explain why her mood subdued to anyone around her. she only felt small, teased, and lonely. the loneliness was not something new; even though her parents doted and she loved them more than anything else, she always felt lonely. like she was waiting quietly for someone to come back, to stay beside her in the during her lessons or at dinner time. but there was never anyone on alderaan who fit such a role.

i think that maybe some days luke felt even more restless than usual, a certain righteous indignation he was not used to feeling. he paces in front of the moisture vaporator he’s meant to be repairing, as his sister stands beside her father in the middle of the galactic senate, staring down the tyrant and system that held the galaxy hostage.

their moods affected one another. they worried for each other, missed each other, long before they knew who they were missing.

even apart, luke and leia were never really without each other.

#!!!!!#OMG #LEIA ORGANA. ( CHAR. STUDY. )#LEIA ORGANA. ( MUSING. )#LEIA ORGANA. ( REL. LUKE. )#( * twins are one soul separated in two bodies but united by birth. / leia&luke — hopefulsun. )

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

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A prompt - 5 times Leia and/or Luke reminded Obi-Wan of their parents and one time they definitely did not.

She is so very much like Anakin that it stops his heart.

Barely five minutes after they meet for the first time -- well, not the first first time, he was there when she was born, held her in his arms as a slick and squalling infant as Padmé breathed the name Leia and then did not breathe again -- she's already backtalking him, questioning his judgment, running him on a merry chase, calling him old, leaping headlong into danger, irritatingly fond of her small droid sidekick, and otherwise confirming every one of Obi-Wan's worst fears that no matter ten whole years of Bail and Breha Organa's best efforts, the Skywalker blood is too strong to ever be tamped down. It should terrify him -- and make no mistake, it does. He's constantly second-guessing his decision to leave Tatooine, especially after the horrifyingly close shave that Owen already had with the Inquisitor, and give up his silent, solitary penance in watching over Luke from afar. He doesn't want to love Leia. His heart is already too old and scabby and far too thoroughly broken. It does not, or so Obi-Wan thinks, have room. It simply cannot stand doing it all again.

(Of course, as is always the case when it comes to the Skywalkers and Obi-Wan Kenobi, he's wrong, and totally helpless. He will love her whether he wants to or not, and it's just easier to give in and accept it.)

Then almost as fast, as they're scrambling to flee Daiyu, he sees Padmé in her: the stubborness, the strength, the willingness to take the lead and boss around men two or three or four times her senior. Obi-Wan does not want to count how many years older than her he is; it is many, and he feels every one of them. He cannot look at Leia and not see his own ghosts. It's an unfair burden to put on the shoulders of a small girl, but when has any of this been fair?

When the stormtroopers almost catch them in a lie on Mapuzo, when Obi-Wan -- despite all his protestations and warnings to her, is the one to slip up and call her Leia, not Luma -- when he tells her that he sometimes looks at her and sees her mother's face, it is no word of a lie. Especially not when he's seeing Anakin in that same desert, a hallucination or a dream or whatever it was, some twisted dark mirror of the man who used to be the other half of Obi-Wan's soul.

(And despite all the damage and char, the darkness and the damnation and the evil, he still is. He still is.)

(Leia Organa is Anakin Skywalker's daughter through and through, and so of course there was nothing Obi-Wan Kenobi could ever do but love her as if she was his own flesh and blood.)

Later, when they're safe and the adventure is over and Leia is back home on Alderaan with her parents, Obi-Wan returns the repaired Lola and tells the girl about Anakin and Padmé, as much as he can. She deserves to know more, she deserves the world, but he has to keep her safe, and he can only hope that he will get the chance to tell her. There is still so much left to do. There are still so many promises that he desperately yearns to keep.

When Obi-Wan is back on Tatooine, when he meets Luke face-to-face for the very first time, he sees Anakin's sandy-blond hair and Padmé's determined kindness, after Reva couldn't bring herself to kill this boy even when she was drowning in revenge, and his scarred old heart breaks again, just a little. But this time, it's not so much like searing agony. It is not ending and devastation and heartbreak and horror.

This time -- this time, at so very long last -- it feels like hope.

"Hello there," Ben Kenobi says to Luke Skywalker, and so, at long last, the cycle begins again.

Years and years later, beyond time and space, beyond life and death, in the luminous eternal netherworld of the Force, where Obi-Wan has existed ever since he gave himself up to the red blaze of Vader's lightsaber, where he has stayed to guide Luke from the beyond, where he has waited and waited -- at last, at last, his patience is rewarded, and his suffering, and his sacrifice, when --

"Hello, Master," Anakin Skywalker says -- Anakin, not Vader. His voice is husky and strange and echoing, but his crooked smile is just the same as Obi-Wan remembers, and oh, it burns brighter than the heart of an exploding star. "It's been a long time."

(Obi-Wan says nothing, just then. Obi-Wan could not possibly.)

"Luke saved me, you know," Anakin says softly, as they stand just beyond the warm brightness of the Ewoks' camp with Yoda perched contentedly on the fence between them, and watch Luke and Leia and Han and Wedge and Chewbacca and Lando all celebrate the demise of the second Death Star, and the desperate, delicate certainty that now, after so many long years and so many broken dreams, the galaxy will be free. "He did what I couldn't. He wasn't like me after all."

"No," Obi-Wan says back, just as softly, and their ghostly voices are lost in the echo and burst and brightness of the fireworks that are going off across the galaxy tonight, celebrating the Emperor's death -- even if very few of them know who truly killed him, who rose at long last from the ashes of Vader, and flew. "He was."

#anonymous #ask #sw ff #kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan x anakin #fic prompts

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finallymc · 5 years ago

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˗ˏˋ 🌟 brooke davis . ›› i am one in a million .

˗ˏˋ 🌟 serena van der woodsen . ›› i keep thinking when things get too hard you’ll give up on me .

˗ˏˋ 🌟 leia organa . ›› aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper .

˗ˏˋ 🌟 pam beesly . ›› there’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things .

˗ˏˋ 🌟 meg march . ›› just because my dreams are different than yours it doesn’t mean they’re unimportant .

˗ˏˋ 🌟 sansa stark . ›› i’m a slow learner it’s true but i learn .

#˗ˏˋ 🌟 brooke davis . ›› i am one in a million .#˗ˏˋ 🌟 serena van der woodsen . ›› i keep thinking when things get too hard you’ll give up on me .#˗ˏˋ 🌟 leia organa . ›› aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper .#˗ˏˋ 🌟 pam beesly . ›› there’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things .#˗ˏˋ 🌟 meg march . ›› just because my dreams are different than yours it doesn’t mean they’re unimportant .#˗ˏˋ 🌟 sansa stark . ›› i’m a slow learner it’s true but i learn .#adding new chars and giving everyone new tags bc why not

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mcrcki · 2 years ago

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᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ closed ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

look at all those starter slots!! wouldn’t you love to fill them just in time for hidden’s second mini event?? i know i would if i were you. but then i would be writing with myself which.. nvm please come react to this for some starters !! below the cut will be some information about what my girls are doing, if they’re dressing up, if they’re really enjoying the faire, if they’re working, anything really! you all know i love to ramble!! but some quick rules, cause man do i love rules :) please specify who you want your starter for or else i will not complete the request !! i am also capping this at THREE requests per writer, just so i can write with everyone !! other than that, come click on through for details about my lovely angels !!

ginny weasley || harry potter || 5/5

ginny is always down for something new, a new adventure, a new place to visit, what have you. she’s definitely gotten a lot of people on her tiktok fyp who are doing like renn faire outfit ideas, so she’s kinda excited to go to one here. she will be dressing up, but only because she was able to find a cute outfit with pants. you can find that here. she’s not here to work, just here to enjoy herself. you can most likely find her hanging around the smithy, the jousting competitions, axe throwing, and the pirate pub crawl! come hang out !

hermione granger ( swan )

fred weasley ( marie )

bill weasley ( annie )

molly weasley ii ( chany )

marcus flint ( j )

leia organa || star wars || 4/5

leia will most definitely be in attendance, and in full costume, which you can find here !! she thinks it’s important that she show face at any major gathering the city has, to be a face amongst the crowd so that people do not feel as though she is some higher being that is never around. she will especially be there, having fun with her family since a certain someone will not be in attendance. you can find her perusing the shops, attempting to pull excalibur from the stone, watching the performers and joining in on some of the dances! stop by and say hello!

isabelle lightwood ( swan )

padme amidala ( marie )

obi wan kenobi ( salsa )

ben solo ( jodie )

marlene mckinnon || hp : marauders era || 4/5

marlene will not be dressing up for this, those outfits look itchy and uncomfortable. you can find what she will be wearing, a normal outfit for her, here ! she will be enjoying some of the faire, mainly here to follow only with the pirates, maybe check out the mermaids and definitely figure out where people are getting those giant turkey legs. once the pub crawl is through.. she will definitely be trying her hand at some sword fighting, or maybe axe throwing. something that seems more exciting than just wandering around! but you should come hang out and enjoy her chaos!

gwen stacey ( websncardigans )

alastor moody ( salsa )

felicity mckinnon ( j )

sirius black ( jodie )

omega archeron || sw : the bad batch || 4/5

omega has put on a nice flower dress and that’s about as much dressing up as you’re going to get from her, you can find that outfit here !! despite not being into the dress up aspect of the faire, omega is genuinely excited for this. she will probably go once or twice, mainly cause it’s an excuse to actively train with her bow. she’ll be down at the archery fields, maybe checking out some shops before ditching the hot outside air for something air conditioned and selling coffee outside of the faire grounds. feel free to join her in that escape!

evie grimhilde ( char )

stiles stilinski ( sam )

sion val palpatine ( alex )

gir ( mia )

pj halliwell || charmed ‘98 || 4/5

pj is thriving !!!! she is so so excited. she was debating opening her own flower stall, but figured someone else would’ve beaten her to it, so instead she will be living her best life at this faire dressed as a fairy, going around and doing little magic displays and handing out flowers. she is here to make everyone’s days a little bit more magical so come hang out and get a little bit of magic !! she’s definitely having fun going to all the stalls, joining in on the dances and having just too much fun, please let her give some of that excitement to you!

martin blackwood ( ollie )

nie mingjue ( kasey )

eddie kaspbrak ( salsa )

parker halliwell ( jodie )

rowena ravenclaw || hp : founders era || 4/5

rowena has been breathing a sigh of relief friends. finally people are dressed normally, for her, she can put on a dress that she is most comfortable with and is just happy to not feel out of place doing it. i won’t lie, she’s being a little annoying, pointing out historical inaccuracies and making comments that certain things wouldn’t have existed at that time, but she’s trying to not do it tooooo much. she will be spending some time at these potion stands, wondering just what someone without magic is claiming as a potion. will definitely be watching some of the jousting though, just for a little bit of something fun and exciting, but mainly she’s just enjoying the atmosphere of the faire!

zhongli ( sunny )

albus dumbledore ( britt )

salazar slytherin ( j )

aloth corfiser ( mia )

sella palpatine || star wars || 5/5

this is so cute and a great excuse to get out of work! she has rented a costume, which you can take a peek at here! honestly, this is just such a nice distraction from everything she’s been dealing with outside of work, all of the stress she’s been going through, she is excited to just cut loose a little and have fun in a nice dress! she will be around hanging out at some of the shops, taking part in the dancing, trying to win some of the prizes, maybe contemplating getting a job as a mermaid!

noah czerny ( ollie )

han solo ( marie )

allana solo ( kasey )

claire novak ( char )

silco ( alex )

sophie hatter || howl’s moving castle || 3/5

another one of my babes who is highkey relieved for some clothes that feel far more within their comfort zone. honestly, if sophie could wear what they’re wearing to the faire every day, they would be very happy. they are currently running ‘sophie’s hattery and flower stall’ where you can find any and all beautiful hats to complete and outfit, or some flowers to make your day just a little brighter and smell a little sweeter! they will be dragged to enjoy some more of the faire by someone running a potion shop across the way, so if you see them out and about, just know she is probably looking for her way back to the stall, but you are more than welcome to grab her and make sure she enjoys the festival and doesn’t just exist to work.

wednesday addams ( britt )

elosie bridgerton ( annie )

asmodeus alice ( mia )

suki || avatar the last airbender || 3/5

honestly, suki is kinda just here to see what all the fuss is about and then probably dip. she definitely is not dressing up, and is looking like she does on most days off. but if you see her around, feel free to come hang out, maybe convince her to stay around for longer. she will probably stay to watch a joust, or try out some of the sword fighting, but really that’s about it. but come hang out while she’s still around in the faire grounds !!

katara ( swan )

kyoshi ( sunny )

ty lee ( kasey )

tatum riley || scream ‘96 || 4/5

tatum is not really dressing up, but she is telling everyone she did. wearing a cute dress with a corset top is a good outfit right?? please come tell her it’s a good fit, she really did not think she was going to go to this until like a day before and decided ‘fuck it might as well.’ she’s probably going to just be hanging around the shops, maybe get a cute flower on her cheek, or be very concerned about the sword swallowers. either way, she’s here to just kinda check it out and see what the faire has to offer!

lumine ( kasey )

anne shirley cuthbert ( britt )

eddie munson ( sam )

peter ballard ( alex )

#hw: starter call #long post tw #hwminievent2

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oboecannoli · 7 years ago

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hoth leia made me gay

#star wars #leia organa #hoth leia #char talks #Original Trilogy

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tarisilmarwen · 2 years ago

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Whumptober 2022 - “Cycle Broken“

(We pretty much all knew I was going to do a “Reva kidnaps baby Luke” fic at some point right?

Bit fixfic-ish because the Speed of Plot in the last episode annoyed the crap out of me, along with multiple characters just shrugging off lightsaber wounds to the gut.

Prompts used:

No. 4 Dead On Your Feet: Hidden Injury/Waking Up Disoriented/Can't Pass Out

No. 8 Everything Hurts And I'm Dying: Stomach Pain/Head Trauma/Back From The Dead

No. 30 Note To Self: Don't Get Kidnapped: Manhandled/Hair Grabbing/"Please don't touch me"

Alt. 2 Whimpering)

---

Reva clenched the broken holoprojector in tight fingers, concentrating on the surging cold inside her instead of the burning fire of her wound. She pushed the blackness back, resisted death for what seemed like an eternity. Muttered, furious words spilled from her mouth as she pressed her face into the sand.

"That little lying farm rat," she hissed. "I knew it. I knew he was hiding something!"

Lars and Kenobi were evidently working together, and Kenobi and Organa as well. A neat little conspiracy of traitors that were hiding... what, exactly? A pair of children? Force Sensitive, obviously, but what made these two so special that a lowly Tatooine moisture farmer would team up with an Imperial senator and a fugitive former Jedi master and war general?

Reva recalled Leia's stubborn resistance to the mind probe, how the girl had seemed to pull Reva's own thickly-buried insecurities out into the open as if her own shields didn't exist, as if her mind was laid bare before her. Little Organa was strong in the Force, and she didn't know it.

No one had ever matched her telepathic skill, countered her Force discernment. That was her gift, the one talent that kept her as precariously high-rank in the Inquisitorius as she was.

The talent that had allowed her to immediately recognize the powerful Dark-stained Force signature of her Sith Lord master the moment she was first brought into his presence.

Her fading consciousness flared back again, the reminder of her purpose, her sole reason for continuing to stubbornly live and fight and claw against the others for a position just a little bit closer to him rearing through her on a wave of tingling Dark rage.

The vigor pulsing through her brought her wound back to the forefront of her attention, and Reva cried out pitifully as she shifted and made it stab sharply, a knife of burning heat.

The pain was horrible and familiar, taking her back to that night in the Jedi Temple, her mind flashing over and over with the fall of the blue saber, the sting of agony as she was cut down.

Her teeth gripped together, outrage screaming inside her head.

Bastard had stabbed her in the same damn spot, it felt like.

Her anger became an inferno inside her, flowing from her wound, through her chest, to her head. Reva clung to the feeling, embracing it, soaking in it, letting the cold fill her.

With a wretched scream she forced herself to her feet, shaking legs aching as the muscles stretched, the wound in her side almost splitting her open with pain.

Her head spun dizzily for a moment once she'd managed to straighten up. Clutching to the swell of Dark Side power storming inside her, she shook her head and staggered forward, step by agonizing step.

Sand scuffed under her boots, displacing. She couldn't even lift her feet properly, toes scraping the dirt each time she stepped forward. The pain from her lightsaber wound made her nauseous, the vile burning scent of charred flesh wafting to her nose.

Her throat tightened. She kept moving.

Every step was horrendous. She teetered and staggered, ankles wobbling and shaking and barely holding her up. Finally she made it out of the hanger, only to despair as she came to the long, empty hallways of the base. Even the Stormtroopers were gone by now, their dead retrieved, insurgents catalogued and recorded, bodies left to rot.

How long had she been lying there on the floor?

Reva swallowed down the sudden swell of loneliness that threatened to drown her, reaching again for the cold fury that had been all that was keeping her going.

Even it started to fail her as she stumbled through hall after hall, trying to find the exit.

Remember, she told herself furiously, making herself relive the memories again. Skywalker marching in at the forefront of a cadre of Clone Troopers. The younglings turning their faces up in guarded hope. The cold impassive expression beneath the hood, alien on the general's normally grinning, cavalier face. The raising of his lightsaber. The thud! as it struck small bodies. Her playmates' horrible screams.

The cold pulsed inside her like a dull heartbeat. She clutched one hand tight against her wound as she went, the pain swelling up with every movement, sometimes close to overwhelming.

When she glanced up she found herself in another chamber. Larger, lined with abandoned equipment. Cables ran down the walls, and the sand was slightly more swept.

Reva grabbed out weakly for one of the cables, leaning against the wall and heaving for breath.

With effort, she slid along the cables.

Keep going, keep going, urged the voice inside her head but now all she could think about was the wide empty rock plain outside, devoid of even scraggly plants, no other dwellings or settlements or facilities nearby for miles. How could she even drag herself out of the base, much less across that lonely distance?

How much longer could she sustain herself through the sheer power of her hate? She knew the one they called The Shadow, the former Darth Maul, had somehow been able to survive for a decade, clinging stubbornly to life through the Dark Side, never letting go for a second. But Maul had been trained by Sidious himself.

She was just a broken child wielding the Dark Side like an inelegant club, pitiful and weak. A fact that the target of her hatred had shown her himself, with such casual indifference.

Reva was so absorbed in her self-pitying thoughts that she didn't notice the body that came out of the open doorway to her left until she nearly ran into it.

The man she'd almost collided with yanked back, startled, fear in his eyes. He was plain-clothed, and unarmored. One of the insurgents? Reva's mind spun. How had the Stormtroopers missed him? Had he hidden somewhere and been overlooked? Returned from an errand offworld or elsewhere on the planet?

Or had he, like her, played dead among the corpses of his companions, waiting underneath them as their bodies grew cold, in desperate hope of sneaking away once the slaughter had moved on?

Reva wanted to snarl at him, raise her fist and choke him with her power, demand he give her a ship and a medkit and force him to help her off this miserable rock. But the anger never reached her face.

Instead, what she did was crumple, barely hanging on with her hand to the cable, eyes glinting and lower lip holding back trembles.

"Help me," she whispered pathetically, feeling her extremities numb.

She let go of the cable. Her knees hit the dirt and blackness swelled up around her head as she fell forward, collapsing.

The cold pulse in her chest stuttered and slowed.

***

Life flickered back into her.

Her essence in the Force, thin and dissipating, began pulling back.

Awareness slowly moved over the surface of her thoughts, until it gripped them with a sudden firmness.

She jerked, her eyes snapping open. Seeing only darkness she panicked for a moment, thrashing her limbs in the void. Her arms and legs moved slowly, as if through thick water. Her side burned, pain spiking with her agitated movement. Something metal was jammed in her mouth. Reva almost screamed, until her gasping inhale brought a cool and steadying breath of air down her throat.

Reva stopped thrashing, going still, curiously sucking in another mouthful through the tube. A breathing apparatus. She was... floating?

Floating. In a tank.

The bacta tank in the chamber, the realization came to her.

Confusion at once set in, and she treaded in place as she tried to wrap her head around her new circumstances. The bacta swirled around her, tingling in her side as it worked to knit her back together. Bubbles escaped around the edges of her mouthpiece, drifting up to the tank surface above. Her armor had been removed, but thankfully her undershirt and pants had been left in place, arms and feet bare as she bobbed in the tank.

Bewildered, Reva just floated there for a long moment, a thousand questions screaming through her head but feeling... soothed by the gentle slosh of the liquid around her. It was calming.

Almost peaceful.

Lulled by the rushing roar in her ears, Reva almost let her eyes fall closed, taking in the stillness, almost let herself fall into that warmth and quiet and light—

Cold jolted her, and she yanked away from the warmth as if it stung, eyes opening wide again.

With a growl she stabbed her hands through the bacta, sending her down until her feet touched the bottom and then pushing up harshly, rising fast until she broke the surface.

Reva slung an arm over the rim, fumbling for the breathing apparatus before pulling it from her mouth and dropping it. She panted, the air in the chamber much hotter and staler than the clean sterile air in the rebreather.

As her sides heaved, she raised her eyes, scanning the platform.

The man from before was standing there, looking up anxiously towards her.

Reva flattened her eyes into a glare, suspicious and wary. She watched him, posture tense, but he just stayed where he was, silent, eyes full of concern.

She almost startled when he spoke.

"You were gone for a minute there," he told her. "I was worried you wouldn't make it."

Reva scowled firmly towards the floor. She made no move to get out yet, and silence fell once again.

For a long minute there was just the slosh of the bacta in the tank, the drip drip as droplets fell from her hair, the steady hum of the equipment and their quiet breaths, echoing slightly off the empty walls.

The man shifted.

"Do... you need any help getting out?" he asked.

Reva's scowl deepened and she clenched her teeth.

"No," she grit.

With a surge of effort she pushed up. Once her navel was level with the rim she slung one leg out of the tank. Rotating, she clambered the rest of the way out of the tank, hanging for a moment before dropping heavily to her haunches.

Her damp clothes stuck to her skin like clingwrap, water running down her back, dripping through her hair. Sitting in place, she stewed in resentment at this man, this stranger, seeing her in this vulnerable state.

She wanted her armor back.

Her hands clutched around her knees, face flaming. The man was approaching slowly. At a glare from her he stopped, holding up his hands.

"Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you," he promised.

"Why did you help me?" Reva demanded sharply.

The man looked like he wasn't entirely certain himself, a hesitation in his eyes. "It's... what a Jedi would do," he finally stumbled.

Reva snorted quietly. The earnest sincerity in his words, his tone... she could tell even without scanning him that he genuinely believed that.

"Yeah, that's what they're supposed to do," she muttered bitterly. Now that she'd stopped shivering the familiar cold of the Dark was drawing her back, settling back into her bones. Her anger festered, cooler now that she could afford not to draw on it to survive, though beginning to flicker hotter.

Anakin flashed though her mind yet again, the sting of betrayal, of outrage, curling up around her heart, hardening her features.

He thought she wasn't even worth killing did he?

He would regret that.

Glaring eyes turned up towards the Rebel insurgent. Her fist clenched firmly against her chest.

"I need a ship," she told him.

***

It took her a week, in the beat-up old freighter provided to her, to return to Tatooine. She kept the holonet tuned to the Imperial news channels the whole time, used her still-unrevoked access codes to get back into the system on a spare datapad, straining for news.

She had been furiously disappointed to learn that Obi-Wan had survived his encounter with Vader, and had disappeared off Imperial radar again.

Even more infuriatingly, Vader had survived also.

I knew you couldn't kill him, Reva thought angrily. You're weak, Kenobi. You loved him too much.

She kept the broken holoprojector with Senator Organa's message close at hand, replaying it over and over again. It was clear to her now that she couldn't kill Vader, not directly—though not for a lack of trying. She couldn't kill Obi-wan, either. She didn't have the skill.

But she could hurt him. If he was conspiring with that moisture farmer to hide a Force Sensitive child... if that child was anywhere near as strong in the Force as Leia...

She could take him. Snatch him right out from under Kenobi's watchful gaze. Train him. Teach him to be stronger than her, to carry out her mission in her stead. And then turn him on Vader.

She imagined the devastated horror on Obi-Wan's face and let that pleasant thought loop through her mind, ignoring the nagging voice that told her she had no patience to teach, the persistent ache in her half-healed wound, the gentle tug of the Light whispering to call her back, niggle on her conscience.

She hid the freighter on the outskirts of Anchorhead. For the first couple days, she didn't even venture out to leave the ship, meditating for long hours, changing the bandages on her wound—healing well thanks to the bacta—and fighting against her impatience.

When she could stand waiting no longer she began making trips into town. It was torturous, having to be careful, having to keep low profile and to the shadows, keep conversations short and brief and vague. All she wanted to do was blaze right in, lightsaber swinging.

But her stomach still panged with pain and she was not too keen to repeat her near-death experience on Jabiim.

Eventually, she found someone who knew the approximate location of the Lars' farm. Under cover of night she flew the freighter as close as she could without being detected, hiding the ship in the ridgeline.

And then there was more waiting.

Agitation strained at her. She watched the homestead for hours, stiff-kneed.

The first time she caught a glimpse of the boy she almost gasped.

Radiant in the Force, like a yellow sun beaming out warmth and light. Reva's mind reeled. How had Kenobi hid this? How had any Inquisitor set foot on this planet without immediately pinging to the boy's signature? Was it just her?

He was... dazzling.

The light pulsing within the boy felt so comfortably familiar. Like quiet hallways and a thousand minds in tune with hers. It felt like home.

She wanted... to touch it.

Reva shook herself out of her fascination, turning from the edge of the ridge and looking away for several deliberate moments. She could still feel the boy, his presence tugging on her and with effort she blocked it out.

When she turned back with narrowed, determined eyes and renewed resolve, she gnashed teeth across the distance at Owen. At the audacity of a Forceblind nobody to have resisted her enhanced mind scanning through sheer stubborn will.

No more lies, Owen, she thought furiously, nails digging into the rock. I know what you're hiding.

***

Obi-Wan had been twitchy and agitated for several days now. There was a discordant noise in the Force, some kind of premonition or warning.

For what, he couldn't say, but he had told Owen nonetheless. The man had scoffed and rebuffed him at first. It wasn't until little Luke had chimed in, mentioned his own odd feeling of being watched, that Owen promised to keep an eye out.

"Tuskans are probably prowling the hills again," he'd grunted, and that was the end of the conversation.

Still unsettled, it took a long time for Obi-Wan to wind down that evening. He meditated for an hour longer than normal, trying to let go of his anxiety, trying to find some peace inside himself. When he felt like he was calm enough, he pulled the blanket over his shoulders and drifted off to sleep.

Only to be woken in the middle of the night by the Force screaming.

Obi-Wan sat straight up, breath caught in his throat, danger senses sounding an alarm. He didn't even have time to get his bearings before he saw it.

The homestead under darkness. A shadow creeping in. Moonlight catching the face under the hood for just a flash, long enough for him to identify Reva. She was at the wall of one of the sunken rooms, lightsaber in hand.

She hesitated for just a moment before stabbing the saber through the stone.

Obi-Wan emerged from the vision with dread pooling all the way through him.

"Oh no," he whispered in horror.

***

Luke's terrified scream was shrill and frightening, and woke both of them immediately.

"Luke!" Beru gasped, already out of bed, flinging herself towards the door.

Owen grabbed the blaster rifle next to the bed, throwing the strap over his shoulder and priming it as he ran. Ten short steps across the compound to Luke's bedroom and then he froze in the doorway.

A hooded figure stood by a gaping hole in the wall, the edges still burning, a frantic, kicking Luke slung over her shoulder. She turned towards him and he recognized her with a jolt.

That woman. The Inquisitor.

Owen's throat locked with terror. Beru was still moving forward and he wanted to call out to her, warn her, but all he could do was reach a hand for her.

The Inquisitor gave a cruel smirk and extended a palm. Beru jerked back as if bouncing off a solid barrier. Owen felt a solid push knocking him in the chin. He stumbled over the threshold, tripping, falling on his back.

As he scrambled up he saw the back of her cloak vanishing through the hole.

"No!" he yelled, cold parental fear gripping his heart. "Fight her, Luke! Get away!"

"Owen!" the boy wailed from outside somewhere, and he and Beru hurried to find their feet.

***

Reva pelted with all speed across the wide empty sand-covered plain. The boy's screams rang in her ear; his failing limbs hit with dull thumps across her head and back.

She tightened her grip on his waist, panting, looking anxiously forward towards the ridgeline in the distance. All she had to do was make it to the ship...

Pop!

A shot from behind hit her shoulder. Pain flared in her muscles.

Reva cried out, faltering, dropping to her knees and toppling over. She scrabbled to clutch the spot, the burning flesh scent sharp in her nose, choking.

The boy wiggled free of her hold while she was still trying to reach the new wound. Reva snarled, and tangled her arm in the boy's legs, tripping him, grabbing firm hold of an ankle and dragging him back.

His scratching hands and toes flung sand everywhere. "No!" he shrieked, fighting her as she pulled on him. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Lemme go!"

With clenched teeth, Reva jabbed fingers into the boy's hair and yanked his head back, making him gasp with pain. Her other hand snaked around his neck, just firm enough to be threatening.

"Listen to me!" she hissed in his ear, tone warning and serious. "You wanna live? You stop struggling. Understand?"

She got only a frightened sob in reply, but the boy was obediently limp when she tossed him back over her shoulder, only wiggling a bit discontently.

Reva got back up and resumed her frantic flight across the sand, steps and heart pounding, ignoring the stabs of agony from her shoulder, the streaking red laser bolts that flew wide of her from someone firing behind.

Run. Just run, she told herself, heaving in breath.

***

Obi-Wan pulled the eopie up short, dismounted, and ran.

His pulse drummed loud in his ears and chest as he pumped his arms and legs.

He knew where to look, he knew exactly where she'd be, knew from his own secret watchings where she would be hiding.

As he got closer, he could start to sense the rivulets of fear. From Luke, as expected, and even more distantly Beru and Owen's frantic terrified worry.

But also, oddly, from Reva.

Obi-Wan didn't have time to wonder about that. His saber bounced at his hip, cloak swished around his pounding legs.

The back end of the ridge line came into view.

***

Reva hissed as she peeled back the torn cloth around her shoulder. Owen had pegged her right between her collar and shoulder blade, a clean shot straight through. Rather impressive, she had to begrudgingly admit to herself.

Slapping a bacta patch over it was a simple enough matter, but the pain festered, the burnt smell tickling on her mind and threatening to pull her back, back to when she watched their crèchemaster fall, multiple blaster shots pumping though her, back to the horrible scent of death all around her as she lay terrified on the floor hoping the clone troopers wouldn't come back to check.

Her anger coiled inside her, but frayed, fragmented with distraction. Reva clutched both hands on the edge of the table, struggling for composure. Breathing heavily.

A small whimper sounded behind her.

"Shut up!" she snapped. She shot a glare behind her at the boy, still sitting where she'd deposited him on a loose cargo crate, scrawny thin wrists latched behind him in binders that were just a smidge too large on him. His watery blue eyes looked up at her in fear, tears trailing down his red little cheeks into the edge of the cloth she'd tied in his mouth when his blubbering became too much for her.

Reva's arms stiffened, his pitiful expression wrenching at something at her. She looked away, hastily putting items back in the medkit. The light inside the boy was as unwavering as ever, glowing softly, grating on her mind. It scalded her, like the heat of a lightsaber held too close to her skin.

Her hands shook as she fumbled with the latches. She reached for the Dark Side, but it evaded her, illusive behind her distracted mind spinning in circles, circling thoughts repeating, He's ten. He's ten. I was ten. He's my age.

Her eyes squeezed closed, her lip trembling.

He's Anakin's.

She knew those eyes. Sky-blue like an endless horizon. No wonder Obi-Wan had worked so hard to hide him. It was all he had left of him.

The poetry of it all was perfect... her revenge should be all the sweeter...

But he was so young. So small and so afraid.

Like she had been.

She could see his face even now against her closed eyelids, timid and terrified. It hurt to look at him.

Reva clenched fingers over her ears, screwing her face, screaming close-mouthed.

"Stop it!" she yelled out, to everything and nothing.

She had to do it. She had to. It was the only way... the only way she'd be at peace, that they'd be at peace, that justice would be done for her dead friends, her dead playmates.

The boy hitched behind her, frightened, his fear spiking through the Force. Reva felt heat under her eyes and held back from crying.

"Reva!" a voice called from outside the ship.

Obi-Wan.

Snapping towards the lowered hatch ramp, Reva whirled, lightsaber flaring to life. The red blade bounced an eerie glow off the walls of the hold.

"Don't you dare, Kenobi!" she shouted down at him. "Don't you put one foot on that ramp!"

She couldn't see him, but she could picture him as a cool blue presence in the Force, hands up, approaching carefully.

"Come outside, Reva," he urged, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Talk to me."

Her jaw clenched. She squeezed the hilt in her fingers, the ridges digging into her palm. "I have nothing to say to you!" she spat.

"Please..." he said again, words full of persuasion.

Reva hesitated. Her lightsaber wavered. It didn't sound like Kenobi wanted to fight, which she would have expected, would have thought he'd blaze in with his lightsaber flaring and fight her tooth and nail for the boy back. But all he was doing was standing out there. Waiting for her.

Well, she thought darkly, in grim humor, maybe I can kill him while I'm at it.

Straightening, she let the startled tension ease out of her shoulders. She pointed a stern finger back at her captive.

"You stay put," she warned him.

He nodded, sniffling pitifully.

Carefully, Reva made her way down the ramp, lightsaber forward. As she thought, Obi-Wan was standing at a distance, his hands up plaintively.

Reva studied him, a confused wrinkle appearing between her brows. His light seemed... steadier. Stronger. The carefully contained turmoil she had sensed in him before was gone.

He took a step closer.

Immediately she stiffened and raised her saber between them. "Don't!" she warned harshly. "You come any closer and I swear I'll kill the boy in front of you!"

There was a steel glint in Obi-Wan's eyes as he said calmly, "You won't do that, Reva."

"Why not?" she snapped, hands tightening on her saber.

The Jedi Master's hands lowered just a fraction. "If the aim was to kill him, you would have already done so. You don't want to kill him." His voice turned quieter, more gentle. "I don't think you want to hurt him at all," he discerned.

Reva's heart and head screeched in outrage and denial of Obi-Wan's statement. Saber out stiffly, expression furiously wrathful, she shouted, "Why shouldn't I?!" Her glare scorched from her eyes. "He's Skywalker's son! That's why you're here, isn't it? Protecting the spawn of that monster!"

A deep sorrow passed over Obi-Wan's face.

It seemed to take a moment for him to respond.

"Anakin is dead. Vader is all that remains," came the leaden pronouncement, the Jedi's voice breaking a bit on the words. Obi-Wan paused significantly. "But Luke is innocent." Soft blue eyes full of compassion and pity landed on her. "Like you were," he finished softly.

Reva inhaled shakily, a gasping half-sob, the pointed red blade trembling along with her hands.

Obi-Wan risked taking a step. Reva tensed like a cornered animal but couldn't stop her eyes from welling up, couldn't help the pitiful urge inside her that wanted to throw herself against Obi-Wan's chest and take comfort in the embrace of someone who might actually understand.

The man's kind gaze was unwavering.

"And neither of you deserves this," he almost whispered.

The voice in her head shrieking at her to lunge, slay Kenobi and take her revenge, was slowly drowned out by her rising sorrow and grief. Third Sister, Inquisitor of the Empire, began to fade as Reva Sevander, a broken child too young to have had everything ripped away from her, came to the fore, called out for her not to inflict the same fate on another youngling, another innocent.

She could still feel him shining in the Force behind her. Her resolve weakened. She knew what she would have to do to darken that light, turn the boy to the Dark Side. Obi-Wan's words asked her plaintively, Could she do it?

Could she inflict that same pain on someone like her?

Reva wavered, stayed tense, thoughts spiraling.

...An eternity passed and then she broke.

No.

Reva's shaking hands lowered her lightsaber, the blade extinguishing. She dropped it on the ground and followed after it onto her knees, eyes squeezing closed with a sob, the tears dropping at last.

She couldn't.

She heaved in breath, sides shuddering as she wept, the tears unceasing as they fell down her cheeks. Reva reached up pitifully, trying to wipe them.

They kept coming.

Obi-Wan lowered his hands and closed the distance, stepping softly across the dry gravel. Reva's turmoil was so loud in her head she almost didn't hear him.

I can't do it I can't do it I'm—She hiccuped for air.—I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't—

She clutched arms around herself, opening up to all the sorrow she'd bottled over the years, letting it spill out.

Cloth rustled. Hands placed calmly on her shoulders.

Reva pressed into Obi-Wan's collar, gasping.

"I'm sorry!" she repeated. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

A soft shushing. Sleeves wrapped around her, his arms steady.

"I—I failed them..." she choked.

"No Reva," he whispered soothingly. "You have given them peace."

That set off another round of wailing sobs, her heart pouring out to the rocks and the stars and the steady blue presence around her as the Light found a crack to slip in and begin healing.

***

Luke shifted nervously on the cargo crate, wringing his hands in the binders again. He wasn't at all sure what was going on outside, but it was loud and frightening and he wanted to run away. He thought if he pulled against the cuffs just hard enough he might be able to get a hand free but then he didn't know what that scary lady was going to do to him. Was she still out there?

He strained his ears. It sounded like someone was crying. The sound continued for a long time, enough for Luke to get fidgety.

When it finally faded he heard bootsteps coming up the ramp.

Luke jolted and tensed up, trying to curl his legs in front of his body protectively, staring towards the ramp with fear that deflated at once when he saw who it was.

Old Ben Kenobi.

He looked tired, but he was smiling, and Luke felt his heart lift. The man was here to rescue him, surely!

Luke sat up straight. Ben walked over, first picking the gag out of Luke's mouth, unwinding it and pulling it free.

"Are you hurt, Luke?" he asked.

The boy shook his head. "No sir."

Ben nodded. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Can you turn a bit for me?"

Luke obediently complied, angling his wrists for Ben to reach. With a bit of fiddling the binders came free, and Luke let out a breath of relief as the strain vanished.

"I'm... sorry about my friend," Ben was saying and Luke listened with some confusion as he flexed his shoulders and wrists. "She lost her whole family recently and... she's been very lonely."

Luke blinked towards the bottom of the ramp. Was he talking about the scary lady?

"So she tried to take you and... force you to be her new family," Ben continued explaining. One calloused hand was placed on Luke's shoulder. "But she's realized now that was wrong and she's very sorry. You won't see her again." Probing eyes met his. "Do you understand?" Ben asked him.

Well, Luke was still confused but there was ring in Ben's words that felt right, felt true. So he replied, "I... think so?"

Ben smiled comfortingly, and Luke felt warm. "Come on," the man urged, "let's get you home."

***

Reva had mostly collected herself by the time Obi-Wan returned down the ramp, the boy by his side. Red puffy eyes slid dully towards the pair.

The boy flinched and shied into Obi-Wan's side when he saw her.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan whispered, rubbing the boy's arm. "She won't hurt you."

Reva managed a grim half-smile that she hoped was reassuring.

Curiously, the boy peeked out from behind Obi-Wan, tilting his head at her. Reva wondered what she might look like to boy's underdeveloped senses. Calmer, perhaps? Perhaps some of the peace Obi-Wan had somehow been able to find was in her now.

She certainly felt... better.

Another inhale passed shakily through her, as she struggled not to cry again. She looked down at her gloved hands. She knew she should stand up eventually, get back on the ship, maybe return it, maybe go somewhere else.

But her limbs wouldn't move. They stayed in place, numb. A fire had gone out of her.

What am I supposed to do now? she asked herself.

A shift of gravel at her side made her look up. The boy—Skywalker's son—looked at her, compassion in the eyes that were so much like his father's.

"I'm sorry about your family," he told her, and it felt so genuine and honest.

Reva felt her eyes brimming again. "Thank you," she whispered.

And the Obi-Wan was urging him to come along, and the boy trotted obediently at the Jedi Master's side. Reva watched them go, fading into the pre-dawn, watched them make their way through the narrow path that led down to the plain below.

And as she looked up towards the horizon, at the suns beginning to peek yellow in the sky, she lifted her head and felt, for the first time in years, unbridled and warm.

And free.

---

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