Light
Naboo
Porte Homestead
Tags:
Corazona von Ascania
Makko Vyres
Roman Vossari
The sun rose higher over the plains of Naboo, casting a soft golden sheen across the ridged stone of Aiden Porte's homestead. Morning light spilled through broad windows, catching dust motes as they danced lazily in the air, and laying long, dappled shadows over polished wooden beams. From the open doors, one could see the rolling sweep of meadowland stretching all the way to the silvered riverbanks, where the water shimmered like molten glass in the calm breeze. Shaaks grazed quietly in the distance, their silhouettes serene against the horizon, as if they too understood that this was a day set aside for peace.
Inside, the kitchen was alive with the hum of simple labor. Aiden moved with steady purpose, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, the faint sheen of cooking steam softening his usually stern features. The counters had been wiped clean and covered with baskets of fresh produce—ripe fruit, bundles of Naboo herbs, even a basket of small freshwater fish he'd purchased from a market barge the day before. The scent of simmering broth rose from a wide ceramic pot, mingling with the clean fragrance of meadow air drifting through the shutters.
The Knight's lightsaber hung on its peg by the door, silent, unneeded. For once, his hands were not gripping a hilt or reaching for the currents of the Force, but chopping, stirring, arranging. Precision remained, the Jedi's mind worked the same way in the kitchen as in battle, every movement measured, every task folded into the rhythm of breath and presence. Still, there was a gentleness here, a quiet joy that made him pause now and then, simply to breathe.
He leaned on the sill of the wide window, knife still in hand, gazing at the fields beyond. The Force stirred softly, threaded through the birdsong and the rustle of leaves, wrapping the homestead in its living calm. Aiden let it wash through him, unhurried. Soon his friends would arrive, and this house, so often silent, would echo with voices, laughter, perhaps the quiet confidences that only came with shared meals and trusted company. He couldn't help it, and it happened all too often. He thought of his father, and what he would say if he was here. Aiden gave a easy wave and smile as he looked out the window to several passing members of Shiraya's Hope as they went about their day. There was a place for them here, they had their barracks and home set aside less than a quarter mile away.
For as much as Aiden stood as sternly and as poised as possible. Beneath the surface there was a storm brewing, he did his best every day to quite that storm. At the end of the day, he his mother and sister were still missing, the Core was lost, Naboo and the High Republic were thriving. It hit him more often than not, yet he knew he had to remain strong, for all of them.
He set the knife down, wiped his hands, and turned back to the kitchen. Plates were already arranged at the long, carved table in the main room, and he imagined the sound of chairs scraping, the light press of footsteps on stone. The anticipation of their presence brought a faint smile to his lips. Not all battles were fought with sabers or blasters. Some, he thought, were won in moments like these: where peace was held, cultivated, and offered to others, one plate at a time.
Aiden lifted the lid of the simmering pot and inhaled deeply. "Almost ready," he murmured to no one, though in truth he felt as if the house itself listened.
The homestead, Naboo, the Force—they were all part of this meal. And in their quiet union, Jedi Knight Aiden Porte prepared some friends to his home. Jedi Knight Corazona and her husband Makko, whom he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet. Cora he did know well from when he was a Jedi Padawan still with the Galactic Alliance, she had been wounded badly during their recent engagement with the Empire. Since he had been back and forth to Ukatis to help the planet with their ongoing issues and also to see an old friend. He felt it would be best to invite them over for lunch. Something to ease their minds and to relax their hearts.
Porte Homestead
Tags:
Corazona von Ascania
Makko Vyres
Roman Vossari
The sun rose higher over the plains of Naboo, casting a soft golden sheen across the ridged stone of Aiden Porte's homestead. Morning light spilled through broad windows, catching dust motes as they danced lazily in the air, and laying long, dappled shadows over polished wooden beams. From the open doors, one could see the rolling sweep of meadowland stretching all the way to the silvered riverbanks, where the water shimmered like molten glass in the calm breeze. Shaaks grazed quietly in the distance, their silhouettes serene against the horizon, as if they too understood that this was a day set aside for peace.
Inside, the kitchen was alive with the hum of simple labor. Aiden moved with steady purpose, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, the faint sheen of cooking steam softening his usually stern features. The counters had been wiped clean and covered with baskets of fresh produce—ripe fruit, bundles of Naboo herbs, even a basket of small freshwater fish he'd purchased from a market barge the day before. The scent of simmering broth rose from a wide ceramic pot, mingling with the clean fragrance of meadow air drifting through the shutters.
The Knight's lightsaber hung on its peg by the door, silent, unneeded. For once, his hands were not gripping a hilt or reaching for the currents of the Force, but chopping, stirring, arranging. Precision remained, the Jedi's mind worked the same way in the kitchen as in battle, every movement measured, every task folded into the rhythm of breath and presence. Still, there was a gentleness here, a quiet joy that made him pause now and then, simply to breathe.
He leaned on the sill of the wide window, knife still in hand, gazing at the fields beyond. The Force stirred softly, threaded through the birdsong and the rustle of leaves, wrapping the homestead in its living calm. Aiden let it wash through him, unhurried. Soon his friends would arrive, and this house, so often silent, would echo with voices, laughter, perhaps the quiet confidences that only came with shared meals and trusted company. He couldn't help it, and it happened all too often. He thought of his father, and what he would say if he was here. Aiden gave a easy wave and smile as he looked out the window to several passing members of Shiraya's Hope as they went about their day. There was a place for them here, they had their barracks and home set aside less than a quarter mile away.
For as much as Aiden stood as sternly and as poised as possible. Beneath the surface there was a storm brewing, he did his best every day to quite that storm. At the end of the day, he his mother and sister were still missing, the Core was lost, Naboo and the High Republic were thriving. It hit him more often than not, yet he knew he had to remain strong, for all of them.
He set the knife down, wiped his hands, and turned back to the kitchen. Plates were already arranged at the long, carved table in the main room, and he imagined the sound of chairs scraping, the light press of footsteps on stone. The anticipation of their presence brought a faint smile to his lips. Not all battles were fought with sabers or blasters. Some, he thought, were won in moments like these: where peace was held, cultivated, and offered to others, one plate at a time.
Aiden lifted the lid of the simmering pot and inhaled deeply. "Almost ready," he murmured to no one, though in truth he felt as if the house itself listened.
The homestead, Naboo, the Force—they were all part of this meal. And in their quiet union, Jedi Knight Aiden Porte prepared some friends to his home. Jedi Knight Corazona and her husband Makko, whom he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet. Cora he did know well from when he was a Jedi Padawan still with the Galactic Alliance, she had been wounded badly during their recent engagement with the Empire. Since he had been back and forth to Ukatis to help the planet with their ongoing issues and also to see an old friend. He felt it would be best to invite them over for lunch. Something to ease their minds and to relax their hearts.
