Private Bridges and Binds

[Briana Sal-Soren]

The first spring breeze had whipped through her open window to waken her an hour earlier, carrying with it the balmy scents from the Estates garden below. Rominara flowers and poplar trees just beginning to flower again.

The last of the snow had finally begun to melt the week before, and by the time she’d finished devouring her light breakfast of nuna eggs and bacon, washed down with a heady cup of tea, the pale stone of her bedroom banister was dusted in tiny white flower petals and golden pollen. Signs of renewal.

It was a strange juxtaposition, given that she felt anything but renewed.

“Make your father proud.”

Brandyn’s words had struck her hard, playing on an endless loop ever since she’d left Crait. For him, of all people, to throw their father in her face? After everything they’d survived together… after everything they’d fought so hard to reclaim…

Perhaps, that was just the nature of their relationship now, forever tarnished, both of them cursed to eternally doubt the other because of the missteps they’d both taken after their parents deaths — a deep scar that would be ever present in their dynamic, no matter how hard either of them fought to regain some state that might resemble something close to normalcy.

Briana exhaled slowly and frowned at the hilt of her brother's lightsaber resting on the wooden nightstand, the physical manifestation and reminder of their rift, then reached out and drained the last remnants of her tea to the dregs, unable to stare at it any longer.

The day had barely begun, and already her mind was heavy with thoughts she had no space for, among everything else.

Scooping up her dishes, Briana padded her way towards the kitchen. She could figure out what to do about her brother, later.

Sera was already preparing for lunch at the worktable, but paused as she made to take Briana’s dishes until she waved her off. “I can wash them,” she told her by way of greeting. Up to her elbows in some sort of meat pie, the android gave Briana a soft smile and left her to it. She’d always been a droid of very few words, graceful in the way that her mother had been.

“The poplar trees are finally blooming,” Briana observed rather pointlessly, peering out the kitchen window at the garden beyond as she rinsed off her plate, fork, and cup.

Sera laid an ornate lattice crust atop the pie and began carefully pinching the edges together, making quick and deft work of it. “Mmmh, yes. I noticed earlier. Spring is in full swing. It’ll be nice to have fresh flowers in the house again,” she responded softly. “Your mother always loved this time of year.”

The mention of her mother sent a fresh pang through Briana’s chest, though she kept her features cool and in check, methodically drying each hand on a nearby towel, trying to push away the sudden flood of memories before they could marinate her mind and remind her of all the moment’s she’d taken for granted. “She did,” Briana managed after a soft swallow. “Always made sure every vase was filled the moment the first blooms popped.”

It was still strange, remembering that her mother had been gone for almost three years now. Stranger still, to imagine what life might be like were she still living and breathing. Would she be proud of the paths her children were taking, or ashamed and embarrassed? Mercifully, that particular line of thought was interrupted before she could travel any further down the trail, feeling her awareness pulled in another direction when out of nowhere, the echo of him, burst across her consciousness. The minute his foot crossed the threshold of the Estates gates, the warmth of everything he was, cast down the reforming mental link in announcement of his arrival.

Vizion.

She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts, so exhausted from the previous weeks day and all it'd entailed, that she’d already forgotten of his promise, his plan to stop by so they could finally have that long-overdue ‘talk’ they kept pushing back.

"Kriff," she muttered under her breath.

| TAG: Vizion Trozky |

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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

The promise of spring was beyond welcome this morning as Vizion made tracks from his apartment in the planetary capital of Theed, out to the Gallo Mountains where the large estate Briana called home was located. An expansive property she lived in, alone at times, with only Sera for company.

It gnawed at him, this breadth of months, seeing abundantly how she had taken the death of the Hapan Prince he’d only learned of, by virtue of news coverage, was an old flame. With how much more unresolved pain she was likely carrying around… one evening wouldn’t have made much of a dent at all. At least not in that.

But it messed with him. That one night changed his trajectory, despite the evening’s outcome. It put a pause in the direction of his thoughts that wondered, perhaps, if he should take a page from the Jedi of old after nothing had worked out in his personal life for as long as it had. He’d had enough to fill his days - was it worth it, was it a good idea to split his attention? Was he even meant to?

All he knew was how inexplicably certain it felt, being with her. Clear alignment. The most sense his life had made in too long, and that was a hell of a thing to untangle when the imagery of her had hardly fled his mind since. Was it just in his head?

A weak sense of her grew stronger the closer he got to the gates, slipping through and making for the door. They had to talk. He couldn’t keep existing like this, as if they had never been anything to each other. As if nothing had ever happened. As if he wouldn’t give a damn if she had been hurting.

Soon enough, the buzzer rang, and he waited, pulling the strap of his bag over his head to hang on one shoulder. He didn’t know how long he’d be out here, but if he had to come all the way out here, it could be a good chunk of the day, so he brought his day with him, more or less.

Maybe it’d be overkill. Maybe not.

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

​

She'd waited by the door the moment she saw him coming up the parapet, steeling herself whatever this conversation, or more accurately, this confrontation, might bring.

Months had passed since the last time they'd really spoken. Not just shared pleasantries in the Temple halls, or awkward exchanges about the weather, but words that actually meant something — passing one another like shadows in the night.

After that night, she'd suggested they both take some time apart to gain some semblance of clarity, once the haze of lust and passion had faded. She'd been in a bad spot at the time — and still was, if she was being honest; chasing down distractions in whatever form they came to drown out the creeping thoughts whenever she slowed down. She'd wanted to protect the both of them, to keep them from falling into a rhythm that could only end in pain.

That'd happened anyway.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions, or something like that. Even when she was trying, she had a knack for driving the people she cared about away, or loosing them to something worse, for good.

Up until Crait, Briana convinced herself that what'd happened between them was the end of it. One night was all they'd have, and she'd have to carry it. Finally, she'd hammered the last nail into the coffin of whatever was left of their relationship, their friendship. But, then he'd surprised her, standing by her at the conclave, telling her he was ready to talk and have that conversation she never thought would happen.

The timing of it could have been better.

Briana slid her hands over the slate blue fabric of the jumpsuit she'd hurriedly thrown on, catching her reflection in the corridor mirror as the buzzer went off. A flash of tired eyes, her hair still slightly damp, but pulled half way back and curling over her shoulders, jaw set in a way that made her think of her mother whenever she was bracing for bad news.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, unhinging her jaw and trying to relax herself, gathering up the dredges of her composure and whatever pieces of herself she could haphazardly tape together.

Pressing her palm flat to the sensor after a few heartbeats, the door finally opened.

Vizion stood on the other side, as damnably handsome as ever, with a bag casually slung over his shoulder and looking a tinge as uncertain as she felt. There was an odd sense of comfort in that.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, tried on a smile. "Hey," she managed, stepping back just enough to make way for him to come inside. "You made it." As if this was just any other day.

TAG: Vizion Trozky

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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

He waited at the door, but he didn't end up waiting for very long. Either she was attentive… or she had been waiting, but two instances of being greeted at this door, months apart, weren't enough to make any kind of assumption about that.

Least of all when the differences were so stark.

The last time Vizion had been here, Briana had made herself presentable — she had been for the entirety of that day. First, she wore a mask he saw through when meeting him at the spaceport; later, she was very much dressed to kill and he was, in the end, a willing victim, all too easily coerced into acting in ways he didn’t… or ways he never used to act.

That one night changed him in ways he needed to change to find the answers to questions he was left with. Questions that he had to ask of himself, and information he needed to gather about whether he could handle whatever path his relationship with Briana might take.

All that effort, all that searching within and without himself wasn’t in vain, though it all led him right back around to where he was now, looking at her, wearing no mask or armour at all, as if she had just rolled out of bed not long before opening the door. As if she was that girl he used to know, and knew far better. As if she was done hiding from him.

A half smile warmed his face at the sight, but his brow lightly furrowed at her uncertainty, felt as much as seen in her attempt at a smile. Vizion let the bag slip from his shoulder to rest in the doorway with a light thud, and stepped inside only enough to pull her to him, enveloping her in a strong embrace. He could wait to escape from the spring chill for a moment or two longer.

“Hey," he breathed, low and soft. It didn’t matter if any of that was true of her, or not. He knew where he stood. “Sorry it took so long.”

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

The moment his arms wrapped around her, Briana found herself leaning into it, arms sliding around his waist to embrace him in turn and let the perceived tension between them fade in the breadth of that simple action.

No words were said right away, though there were several questions that'd flitted through her mind in the short span of a millisecond.

Most of them centered around his whereabouts these last months, wondering how much he knew about what'd happened on Hapes, and where his mind was now, since the last they'd spoken? Did he forgive her? Briana debated asking him but, breathing in the faint scent of pine needles, clean linen, and spice, feeling his warmth? ... She wasn't sure she cared about the details, not when his presence felt like a soothing balm being lavishly applied to some deeply wounded part of her soul, in desperate need of relief.

“Don’t apologize,” she murmured, arms tightening around him as she let herself settle, rested. “I’m just glad you’re here, now.” For all of the anxiety she’d felt after seeing him walking up that parapet, she realized she meant it, completely.

When she finally pulled back, it was only enough to meet his eyes, her hands still loosely resting at his side. "Sorry, I..." she shook her head and let her arms drop, adjusting herself accordingly and tucking a sable curl behind the curve of her ear, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile as she stepped fully back, widening the door for him.

"Come on in." Briana offered, "I was just cleaning up from breakfast, but I could have Sera make you something if you're hungry? I know there's at least some tea still sitting, or if you want to warm up, there's a fire going in the common room."

The attempt to subtly ease them into a gentle rhythm before confronting the difficult conversations the day would inevitably bring, clearly apparent.

TAG: Vizion Trozky

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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

Her gladness made that half-smile a small, whole one, a feeling that was underlaid faintly by the scent of her shampoo, unconsciously breathed in, then settled into with closed eyes for the lingering moment of their embrace. A scent his head started to dip into, until she pulled back, and his eyes snapped open looking down at the vision of her face, closer than it’d been in months. No, he’d never get tired of looking at her.

"Sorry, I..."

Vizion let his arms slip away from her when she began to withdraw, his eyes narrowing slightly with the curious hum that buzzed quietly in his throat because of her awkwardness. He turned and retrieved his bag from the doorway while she invited him in, and gave his head a small shake, trying to release thoughts that read too much into such a small thing as her lingering after a hug.

He turned back to Briana while she continued, and shrugged the strap into place over his shoulder, letting his gaze slip away from her as he stepped fully over the threshold, “All of the above,” he replied, while slipping out of his sneakers, toeing each heel to do so. He flicked a glance back at her. “If that’s an option.”

His stomach growled softly as if to be more direct about his hunger, and he chuckled one note.

“Huh, I burned through that pre-workout pretty good,” Vizion uttered as he turned back to his shoes, retrieved them from the floor, and looked back to her, “Not sure where you’d stash these.”

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

It was such a simple thing — a small, ordinary courtesy that shouldn't have caught her off guard. But that was the rub, wasn't it? The simplest memories always had a way of bubbling up unbidden, slipping through the cracks when least expected.

Whenever Aiden came home from whatever godforsaken corner of the galaxy the Alliance had sent him to, bone-tired and half-asleep on his feet, he'd always pause by the door to shed those boots — mud caked with the remnants of whatever mission he'd returned from — careful not to track it across their floors and murmuring something along the lines of not wanting to, "mess up something this nice," as if the marble beneath his feet were too fine for someone like him.

“Not sure where you’d stash these.”

"Here is fine." she murmured, taking his shoes and setting them neatly tucked beside the large double doors, the corners of her mouth tugging ever so slightly upward when she heard the low rumble of his stomach.

“All of the above,” His stomach growled softly as if to be more direct about his hunger, and he chuckled one note. “If that’s an option.”

"And yeah, of course. Come on," she gestured, turning toward the corridor that'd lead them to the common room. "Let's get you settled before you waste away in my foyer."

In the months since he'd been there, she'd done her best to try and make the place feel alive again, or at least less like a museum of what used to be. Inspired, in part, by that one night they'd spent together — realizing that there could still be, potentially, more for her one day.

Little by little, she'd stripped it down, all of the memories. The settee her and Aiden had argued over was gone, the armchair where he used to leave his jacket. The decanter he'd bought to celebrate their first night in their yet empty home. It'd been a relief to get rid of them, all of the reminders. Staved off that persistent feeling of being suspended in time. At least until the emptiness became loud, as if the house itself was waiting for her to fill the spaces she kept carving out of it with something new and meaningful.

The fire in the white marble fireplace was still going when they entered the room. It was quiet, but elegant — comfortable. Spring sunlight poured through the many windows, assisting in warming the floors and the deep-cushioned armchair's and loungers that she'd spent many a day reading on. It was perhaps her favorite room, for its openness and breathability. One of the few places where she didn't feel caged in when she had to spend time here, and why there was already tea waiting on the coffee table, Vizion's arrival cutting into her typical work time.

Settling into one of the chairs, Briana reached for the porcelain pot and poured, white steam curling into the air. "You like mint and namana, right?" She asked, offering him one of the cups.

Taking her own, she wrapped her fingers around it and let the warmth of it soak into her fingers, watching as he took a sip before taking one of her own.

"You look like you are well..." She finally said, fishing for something to try and keep the crushing silence that'd existed between the two of them at bay.

She couldn't bear anymore silence.

Vizion Trozky
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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

"Let's get you settled before you waste away in my foyer."

The turn of phrase pulled up one corner of his mouth, but he followed her down the corridor, offering no further commentary, and maintained his silence when they stepped into the common room, even as he took in the ways she’d changed the space; a brief and curious look directed her way with her back was still turned was the sum of it in the moment, wondering what prompted the changes, just as he continued to wonder how he would broach all that’d made him be as quietly firm with her as he’d been at that conclave. Onlookers be damned.

Leaving his bag alongside the other armchair, Vizion took the warm teacup into his hands, nodding to her question and speaking one word of quiet thanks, before stepping back and sinking into the cushioned seat and seatback, with one ankle propped up just above the other knee, and one arm laid upon the chair’s broad arm. Only then taking a slow sip when he was comfortable.

The sparse aesthetic of his own small space that he’d come from this morning was deliberate, a focus on duty, but comfort was comfort. He welcomed it. He smiled small into the teacup, well into another sip by the time she cast her line, while he was invested in shaking off the spring chill, the warmth of the fire leaching the cold out of his limbs as the tea warmed his insides.

He’d chosen to walk all the way here for the time to finish putting his thoughts into order. He’d asked for this meeting… nay, demanded it, and turned that awfully small smile towards her across the coffee table, swallowing and resting the teacup, nestled in his hands, in his lap.

“You look tired,” words delivered gently as his brows rose, but a frank observation, nonetheless, that he’d wordlessly made to himself several times over the past many months. Like she was when he’d first arrived, but at least she hadn’t bothered to hide it, now. “How’ve you been sleeping?”

There was an Order and council that was bound to her direction, and a duty to the Jedi path that mattered well beyond him. Burning the candle at both ends was no way to live.

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

​

The subject of her sleeping, or rather inability to do so, wasn't a topic she particularly expected to be brought up, of all things. Then again, when did Viz not ask after her well being? Even as children, he'd always been like that: observant, quietly attentive, looking out for her best interest — at times to levels she found frustrating. He'd notice when she was too caught up in play to remember her meals. Could tell on the days when she'd stayed up by the flickering light of her candledroid to read, and always knew exactly what to say when her mother's reprimands left her teary-eye and feeling small, always managing to coax a laugh out of her, somehow.

That last thought lingered like an ache. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly laughed. Not the polite kind she gave in conversation, or the hollow sound she used to reassure others, but a real, unguarded laugh; the kind that left her breathless and made her cheeks sore. It used to come so easily.

She chased away the thought with another small sip. "You know, it's not very genteel, to tell a woman that she looks tired." Briana quipped by way of mock protest, staring down into the reflection of the steaming tea held in her lap. She shrugged. "I don't know," she finally confessed. "Doesn't seem to matter how long I sleep, I'm still tired." Tired in her bones, tired in her crumpled heart, and often with naught but her own horrible thoughts for company.

"There were days before..." her eyes squeezed tightly shut and she swallowed a hard lump, shoving against the wall of sorrow and the images that immediately surfaced anytime she thought of that day on Hapes, of her horrible failures. For a heartbeat, she thought she could smell the acrid tang of ozone and burnt silk, feel the sticky warmth of blood drying against her palms, hear the last desperate gasps of life slipping away. She gave a one note laugh that lacked any humor behind it.

"It was getting better," marginally. Restfulness had come and gone in the interval between that one night months ago and Hapes, but even some improvement had been better than none.

"But after..." Astor, she tried to explain, his name stuck in her throat. "Sometimes Sera gives me something, but it doesn't always help." Her words trailed off into the soft crackle of fire, what more could she say, beyond that? How much more did she want to share?

"Anyway," she pivoted, "I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to listen to me talk about my poor sleeping habits." Her hand drifted to the small brass console mounted beside her chair and pressed the call button, a soft, musical chime echoing through the room. "Sera?" The reply came almost instantly, warm and even, like honey over stone. "Yes, Mistress Briana?"

"Could you bring something up for Vizion? Something warm—he's had a long walk, and tea won't be enough."

"Of course," came Sera's immediate answer, calm and kind as ever. "I'll prepare a tray and bring it in shortly."

"Thank you," Her gaze turned back to Vizion once the connection closed, considering him. "I assume you wanted to talk about Crait, among other...things."

TAG: Vizion Trozky
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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

"You know, it's not very genteel, to tell a woman that she looks tired."

The small smile he wore peaked at one side, the only notice of the amusement her mock protest provoked in him, only to return to what it was before. Vizion sipped his tea in silence, ever the attentive listener while Briana answered him, and her composure wavered when she grasped for the least painful way to give context, only to fail to get the words out at all.

It was still enough to paint over one of the gaps in what he knew of that part of her life, of what the holonet couldn’t tell him that day… Vizion adjusted how he sat, taller, straighter, while Briana turned to avoidance, to calling for food on his behalf. His thoughts chewed on what he’d been given. What he knew. What…

…his eyes narrowed as his perspective of that one night started to shift, offering new speculations that would need time to bear out; by the time she turned her attention back to him, his gaze was on his teacup, before he drank down what remained in it in the next moment. He rose from his seat enough to lean and put the teacup on the coffee table with a light tunk, then resettled. The fire crackled, punctuating the wordless space.

This was one of those ‘other things’.

“I saw the broadcast of the wedding, Briana,” he peered at her across the table, not taking the change in topic, “and your dark moods have been hard to not notice these past months.” It’d been hard to watch, and do nothing. Harder now, more than ever, knowing where the darkest paths might lead him. Where they might lead her, and what would have to be done. “I’m not going to make you talk about him if you’re not ready to,” not for his own sake, he wasn’t insecure like that… and on that note, “but I meant what I said before: I’d rather you lean on me, than continue to shoulder it alone.”

He would rather she trusted him. Rather have her in his life. In the months since he’d given in to her, the hardest part hadn’t been that it was only that night. Or the morning after. It was that there was no going back. The genie couldn’t be put back in the bottle. He couldn’t bury it again.

He had to try, no matter the outcome. He blew out a short sigh, and continued on.

“Speaking of before… I don’t know about you, but I’ve thought about this,” he gestured between them, “a lot over the past few months.”

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

So, he knew.

It shouldn’t have come as any sort of surprise, anytime Royalty married, it was a grandiose affair. The Galaxy loved a spectacle, and what a spectacle they’d been given that day. Still, it was... disconcerning, to say the least. The secret of her past relationship with Astor exposed for the entire galaxy to dissect, his gruesome murder broadcast for everyone to see, the Consortium’s corruption and cruelty, in what was supposed to be a free corner of the galaxy, unveiled. And after all of that, what changed? The rather short and disappointing answer was… nothing.

The Queen was dead. Thousands of her subjects put to the sword in her brother's name. The man who’d murdered Astor vanished into obscurity. And the galaxy seemed all too ready to move on, to pretend the entire catastrophe had been nothing more than a dramatic footnote for future historians to ponder over before turning the page. Many would say that was just the nature of the Galaxy and its natural progression, or perhaps even the will of the Force in action.

Even if there was truth in that, truth didn’t make any of it easier to swallow or digest, didn't bring her comfort, or make it easier to put distance between what'd happened, and the feelings of all it roused in her. A challenge, when you were expected to keep a serene disposition and be the anchor for an entire Order and its continued stability. For better or worse, Briana never was good at pretense.

Sequestering herself away, avoiding the topic of Astor, wasn’t because she was trying to pretend Hapes never happened, but because it was the best she could do to keep herself from doing the selfish thing and dragging others down with her. Pulling Vizion into her orbit of grief, when she'd already asked so much of him, and given so little in return?

Her fingers curled into her palm, quietly tightening into a fist in her lap. Surely, he wouldn't want her in the state she was in, not when she only had pieces of herself to offer? Briana chewed on her inner cheek, deliberating on what to say and thankfully given more time to formulate that response by the mellifluous voice of Serra interrupting the moment, filling the room with the announcement libations and victuals.

Once the android was gone, food and drink properly dispensed, Briana relaxed her shoulders and looked back at Vizion with a tilt of her head, her fist unfurling. “I’ve had time, and then some, to think about quite a few different things, including us.” she offered carefully, reaching for a plate and layering it with various berries, meats and cheeses, then placing it in her lap. “And I know you well enough, to know that you wouldn’t bring that particular topic up, unless you were wanting to do something about it.” She arched a brow as she looked at him, asking for the confirmation of what they both knew to be true. “But, Viz… if you know about Astor, about everything that happened, then you also have to know that I’m… I’m sorting out a lot of messed up chit.”

TAG: Vizion Trozky
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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

He watched as Sera came and went, then when the android left the vicinity, he got up and fetched a plate, giving Briana a cursory glance when she continued their conversation before filling the plate with the food on offer and returning to where he’d been seated. Vizion listened, popping the occasional berry into his mouth.

The brow she raised at him and his intentions only got his steady gaze in return, as he bit off a morsel of cheese, but as she began reiterating her reasoning for keeping him at arms’ length, it became clear that maybe she’d forgotten. Maybe she believed he’d changed that much. Vizion lowered his plate into his lap.

He sighed, “If that scared me, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he countered, his tone frank, “if it scared me, I would never have sat with you, listened, consoled you,” he allowed the smallest smile, “dried your tears, or tried to make you laugh.”

He had always been this, and if she didn’t see it, then she didn’t know him as well as she might think. He nipped more of the slice of cheese, and continued unraveling this bit of who he was.

“Didn’t scare me then, and after all I’ve been through, and all the work I’ve done, It couldn’t scare me now.” She’d seen him in that state, as broken in body as he’d ever been. Seen him, when he was in the midst of resolving that trauma, and so much within him, at the start of the past year. He had been sorting himself out for so long even before it. “If your demons were going to do anything to me, Briana Sal-Soren, they would have done it already.”

He set his plate aside to fetch himself a drink from the table. Just water. Too early for anything else besides tea.

“I know full well what I’m asking — being there for you, to me that means all of you. The good, the bad, the you that smiles… the you that loved him,” Vizion settled back into his seat, and set his gold-flecked gaze back to her, “loved them. All of it. There is no you… or us, without every part.”

And he meant it. He would never ask her to forget. He couldn’t do that any more than he could ever forget her.

“Whatever ‘us’ is.”

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

The longer he spoke, the more dangerous the conversation became. Dangerous, in the sense that his words made her want to believe him, lean into him, nearly caused that heavy weight of guilt to dislodge from somewhere between her ribs and allow her better space to breath. Her traitorous body seemed to responded in kind, disarming tension in her shoulders as they lowered, expression settling into something more contemplative and soft, rather than defensive.

“You make it sound so simple,” she said, voice carrying a note of wary disbelief at the earnestness of his raw honesty, reaching up to brush away what could have been a falling tear, but was too quickly brushed aside to be noted. “I want…” She paused, and bit down on her lip as she reconsidering and reconstructed her thoughts, shifting the plate in her lap to the table beside her, as if clearing away the extra clutter might make room for the right words to exist. Bright sapphires met his perfect, gold-flecked eyes then, and she forced herself not to look away. There was no avoiding the bantha in the room, now.

“I need you to understand what you’re offering to step into. I need you to understand that it's not you that I doubt. When you say my demons can’t hurt you… Viz, they’ve already hurt you before. Hurt other people who were close to me... in... irreparable ways." Astor, Aiden, and more beside. "Even Brandyn thinks I’m one step away from becoming the same monster our father was… and I question if he’s not entirely wrong.” She'd felt so sure the Foundation was right, but that kernel of doubt Brandyn planted in her that day, had only continued to grow. In the cause, in her judgment, in herself.

“Most days,” she continued, “I feel like I am on this… precipice. This endless swirling vortex, and if I take one step in the wrong direction, I’ll either be sucked down into it, or set it off and destroy everything around me. I’m trying so hard to stay on the right side of that line, but I can’t always recognize where it is anymore.”

Finally, her gaze shifted away from him. “Even if that doesn’t scare you, it scares me.” Was she trying to convince him to leave? Perhaps a part of her wanted him to, but there was a stronger pull beneath that feeling, that hated the mere thought of it. “I want to meet you where you’re at and I want you to stay, more than anything... and yet, I need to know that you really see, and truly understand, who it is you’re choosing to stand beside if you do. That if you stay, you understand that I'm not the same girl that you knew, and haven't been since the Cataclysm. That all I have to offer you, is the person you see in front of you now. To understand that, if you stay, I can't offer you reassurances or promises, and that there can be no 'us' until I find my way out from under the wreckage, not truly."

There was silent apology in her eyes as she looked at him, wondering what was going through his head now, with all of her conditions and fears fully laid as they were. Shame prickled through her like a thousand small needles.

Stay with me.

But don’t expect anything from me.

Wait for me.

With no sense of how long that wait might be.

Have patience with me.

Without any guarantees.

She wouldn’t blame him if he walked out the door.

TAG: Vizion Trozky
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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

The longer she spoke, the more he felt she was trying to push him away and the more his heart sunk… until her wants came in, at least. Until she began to speak of ifs. Her limitations. Her conditions. But that she wanted him to stay, plainly, was enough for him. Even he wasn’t entirely the same as a few months before. He leaned forward, dropping his elbows onto his thighs, holding the glass between his knees.

“I know,” he started softly, looking down into his glass and willing away doubt, at first, until raising his head and eyes to meet hers. “I think I’ve known for over a year.” When she withstood him at his lowest, and didn’t stoop to his darkness. “But you made it pretty clear a few months ago, and framed the past year with how little I do know.”

It was a sober realisation, knowing how much he hadn’t truly seen what was in front of him. How he used to hold her to an ideal, when the distance his training put between them left him to fill in the gaps. How that turned out. He gave a small, firm smile, as that feeling of idiocy rose and fell.

“But you know me enough to know I want to change that. And I want it as much as you’ll allow.” A faint crease worked into his brow. “Whatever that looks like. All I know is I can’t go on ignoring what lies between us.” What was always there. He looked down at the glass held in his hands, again, and sighed, as he skimmed the surface of their years of separation. “I thought I could. You seemed happy, once. I thought that would be enough for me.”

His head and eyes rose to find her again. Steady, Direct.

“But you’re not. And it isn’t, because someone reminded me how difficult she is to forget, much less ignore.” Or resist. “I can’t go back, Bri. I don’t know where the future lies, but I need to know where this goes.” He didn’t want any regrets if it could be helped. He reclined back into the seat. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, for as long as you’ll have me.”

However long it might take, if it was to go anywhere at all. Even if it might hurt. Was he crazy? Perhaps.

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

She could have sworn that she felt a shift in the air, a pulse of relief roll off from him, when she'd begun to lay out the breadth of her conditions and concerns to him. Like it'd given him a foundation to build from, instead of a reason to walk away like she'd anticipated.

When he was finished speaking, Briana looked down at her tea that'd long gone cold in her hands. She'd never noticed when the warmth left it, though she hadn't noticed much of anything beyond the careful cadence of his words, the restraint threaded through them, and the unguarded honesty beneath. Was he a fool for offering it so freely? Or was she selfish for accepting it so readily? Perhaps there was a bit of truth to both.

Carefully, she set the half-full porcelain cup aside, a strange sensation of the world slipping out from under her feet settling over her — as though some dark, solid thing she’d been standing on for far too long was being patiently undone and pulled from her, the way sand is drawn from the shore, and Vizion the tide to wash it away.

A deep and steadying breath was pulled into her lungs, her mind briefly skirting the question of where they went from here. She gestured to the window, the blossoming trees outside releasing their petals like falling snow as the gentle breeze rocked their branches.

"Will you walk with me then, out there?" She asked, pulling herself to her feet and crossing the minimal distance that existed between them, holding out her hand for him to take. “Figure out what this is going to look like between us. And once that’s settled…” A small pause. “You can stay for as long as you'd like, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

There was, after all, a great deal of lost time between them.

TAG: Vizion Trozky

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[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

He set the glass aside. She didn’t speak, and that nearly sent his heart into his throat. He was certain of his position walking into this, but uncertain how she would respond until she rose and walked the few steps over. It drew his eyes upward, made his chin lift when she came to stand over him, and offered her hand, more of an enigma than she’d ever been before. No more than a handful of faint overlays of her, up there, across time. The girl, the woman, the woman in front of him.

He could get used to that.

Vizion leaned forward, took her hand, and lifted his rear off the seat… only to shift forward and plant himself back down, enough that he’d have to raise his eyes further, his feet bookending hers.

“You know,” he started slowly, intently, his eyes on hers, her face, his thumb drawing circles in her palm, “it’s much simpler than that.“ He rose and held her hand to his chest, gently, the unrushed cadence of his heart, beneath. Traded looking up for looking down, standing over her. “I give you what you need.” How peaceful her rest was under his watch, that night. “I listen. In exchange…” His gold-flecked gaze skirted away a moment in thought, then tracked back to her. He let go of her hand, and leaned in, close to her ear.

“At the door? This close? Whenever. Don’t stand on propriety.” His head turned, and his nose grazed her cheek as softly as the warmth of his breath did. “Let it happen. Don’t hesitate when I’m the only one watching.”

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

The moment wasn't going the way that she'd expected. Not in the slightest. With how the events unfolded the last time they'd been together, she assumed he would be not only agreeable to her suggestion, but have stipulations and counters to make of his own.

Instead, his words and very demeanor seemed to suggest they do the exact opposite.

Briana tipped her head back as he stood, her un-styled curls spilling over the curve of her shoulders. She was not a short woman by any stretch, but when he stood over her and those steady, golden-flecked eyes fixed on her with that quiet, intense certainty, she felt small and exposed.

It was always these involuntary reactions that plagued her when he was around, had driven her to teasing him when she'd been younger and more inexperienced. The heat that shot through her chest, that feeling like the world was being pulled from beneath her feet. Poking at him had been a safer way to deal with her own discomfort, than admitting she didn't quite know what to do with the way she felt around him.

“At the door? This close? Whenever. Don’t stand on propriety.”

His voice trailed off then, and his next words were as gentle and warm as his breath that tickled her ear. What thread of restraint she had left began to unravel. Did he know what he was invoking? She'd worked overtime to fence everything in, for his sake, and here he was breaking it back down. Her thoughts wandered back to that night she'd gone over so many times. How she'd slept without waking even once, how she didn't dream about the horrors of the Cataclysm, her parents death, or even Coruscant. She hadn't found that sort of rest since. Only new nightmares to layer on top of the old ones.

“Let it happen. Don’t hesitate when I’m the only one watching.”

Vizion had barely finished speaking before Briana threw her arms around his neck, pulling her body flush against his. "You're a fool, Vizion Trozky." she breathed, the bite absent from her words as her rosebud lips crashed hard into his.

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Briana lay stretched along the couch, her head resting in Vizion's lap, curls spilling across his strong thighs and over the edge of the cushion in a dark cascade.

She didn't know how long they'd spent laying together when all was said and done, simply basking in the warm glow that came after, only that by the time she'd realized how late it was getting, the sun had already began to set, and Sarah had made herself especially scarce.

Briana could already imagine the commentary the droid would have for her later, something along the lines of shared quarters and personal boundaries. The thought barely registered as she relaxed more deeply, selfishly allowing herself to push those thoughts from her mind and focus on her more immediate circumstances. The one where she felt cared for and safe. Like she could just be.

It was a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time, longer than even her time with Aiden, if she were being honest. Like finally permitting oneself to sink into a pillow after countless nights of staring at it. Her thick lashes lowered and she breathed in deeply.

"I forgot what this felt like."

TAG: Vizion Trozky

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