Private Early Light

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard Isla Reingard​

Life Day festivities had a way of softening even the edges of the galaxy.

The morning air was crisp enough to bite, a pale silver-blue that clung to Aiden Porte's breath as he crossed the quiet stretch of walkway toward Lorn's home. Naboo still slept, lights low, windows fogged at the corners, a hush settled over everything like a blanket pulled up to the chin. Somewhere down the way, a string of Life Day lanterns swayed gently, their warm glow stubborn against the cold.

Aiden kept his pace unhurried anyway.

Two gifts sat balanced in his hands, wrapped neatly, ribbons pulled tight with the careful patience of someone who'd re-done the bows twice to make them sit just right. One was smaller and lighter, the sort of thing Isla could tear into with bright-eyed urgency. The other had a bit more weight to it, chosen with intent. Tucked under his arm, secured with a strip of cloth so it wouldn't slide, was a simple tin, cookies, still faintly warm, the kind that made the whole walk smell like home even when you didn't have one to go back to.

He paused at the door.

For a moment, he just stood there, letting the quiet settle in his chest. Not nerves, exactly, Aiden didn't do nerves the way most people did. But there was something about arriving like this, unannounced except for time of day and instinct, that asked for gentleness. Lorn had his life with Ala, and Isla had her routines.

He adjusted his grip, careful not to crush the bow on the smaller package, and lifted his knuckles to the door.

Three solid knocks, firm enough to carry through sleep, measured enough not to sound like an alarm.

Then he waited, cookies pressed warm against his ribs, his expression calm and open, like he'd already decided, no matter what answered on the other side, he was going to make this morning kinder.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

The knock cut cleanly through the quiet.

Isla was already awake. She had been for a while, sitting cross-legged on her bed with a mug gone cold in her hands, staring at nothing in particular. Life Day did that to her. Too many impressions brushing past, too many possible mornings layered on top of each other. When the sound reached her, solid and deliberate, she looked up with a small frown.

"That's early," she muttered, setting the mug aside.

Lorn stirred from the other room. He was on his feet almost immediately, habit overriding sleep. By the time Isla reached the door, he was a few steps behind her, silent, listening. No tension yet. Just alert.

Isla opened the door.

Cold air rushed in, sharp enough to make her blink. Aiden stood there with packages in his hands and that calm, decided expression he wore when he had already made up his mind about something. The warmth from the tin tucked under his arm drifted out with the scent of sugar and spice, grounding and familiar.

"Oh," Isla said, surprised into honesty. "It's you."

Her eyes flicked to the gifts, then back to his face. A faint smile tugged at her mouth, uncertain but curious. "Did something happen?"

Behind her, Lorn took in the scene in a single glance. The hour. The offerings. The ease of Aiden's posture, like he belonged on the threshold of their home. His brow furrowed, not unkindly.

"Aiden," he said. "Is everything all right?"

Isla shifted her weight, leaning lightly against the doorframe. There was no vision attached to this moment, no sharp warning or pull forward in time. Just confusion, and a soft sense of significance she couldn't quite name.

"It feels like a visit," she added, glancing back at her father. "A strange one."

Lorn exhaled slowly. "You'd better come in," he said, still watching Aiden closely.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

Aiden's gaze moved from Isla to Lorn with a steady and easy smile that followed. He chuckled lightly and then nodded his head.

"Everything's alright," he said first, because he could hear it in Lorn's voice, the question behind the question. Are you bleeding? Are you hunted? Are you here because something's wrong?

Aiden's mouth tipped, just barely, into something that could pass for a smile.

"I promise," he added, softer. "No alarms. No Council summons. No trouble trailing me. Is that really all that you guys think I bring you?"

He shifted his grip, lifting the two packages a fraction higher, as if the obviousness of them might do the explaining for him. The ribbons held. The paper didn't crinkle. He'd been careful.

"It's Life Day, week, I mean in reality Life Day festivities are essentially celebrated all this month." he said, like that alone was reason enough to knock on someone's door before sunrise. Then, almost as an afterthought, he nudged the tin with his forearm. Warmth bled through the metal into the chill. "And I made cookies."

"I had the sense you were awake." he said. "And I didn't want to wait until later to… to do this."

In regards to the comment about the strange visit.

"Well, I'll disagree" Aiden went on, answering the shape of Isla's words. "It is a visit. But I wouldn't say a strange one, I come bearing gifts." He glanced at her again, a quiet acknowledgement of what she didn't say aloud: the way Life Day could pull at the Force like a tide.

He paused, then added, with a simplicity that felt almost disarming coming from him. "And......I wanted to show up. That's all." Aiden's eyes moved back and forth between both

For a heartbeat, the threshold held them, the cold outside, the warmth inside, and Aiden in between with gifts in his hands like a peace offering.

"You'd better come in,"

"That's what I'm waiting for!" Aiden said with a small smile as he moved in past them.

"Isla, this one's yours," he said, and there was something almost boyish in the restraint it took not to hand it over immediately. He handed her the gift.

Aiden turned to Isla as she was already through with hers. "I had a hard time with yours. I thought back to the caves that you, Phillip and myself were in looking for crystals. It made me thinks of something hopefully you could use when you are out on your adventures."

"There's a light side focusing crystal, decently sized and very useful. Attuned to harmony rather than power, it responds to the bearer's emotional balance, brightening the resolve and dimming under stress. It'll give a gentle illumination to light your way if you happen to be exploring any more caves or such." Aiden placed his hands behind his back and he continued. "More of a companion than tool I suppose, it embodies light side ideals. Patience, balance, respect. It simply...endures and sometimes guides."

His eyes flicked to Lorn, and he extended the second gift with both hands, formal, deliberate, an offering rather than a favor.

"And this one is for you," he said. "Because you've been carrying more than anyone should, and because I…I notice."

He let the words sit, not dressing them up. "And these," he said, "are for both of you. Also for me, if I'm honest. I'm counting on being invited to steal at least one, maybe two or three."

Aiden's shoulders eased a fraction. He'd done what he came to do, show up with something gentle in his hands, and no catastrophe on his heels.

"The sword is built around a rather resilient phrik-alloy core. Some layered construction of titanium-durasteel." Aiden smiled as he watched Lorn unwrap it. "Reinforced with cortosis-weave inlays along the blade to disrupt energy weapons. Light based kyber crystals in the pommel and hilt to help with balance and to focus your energies. Light to use, but also heavy where it needs to be." Aiden chuckled lightly. "It's also thanks and appreciation for what you've done for me."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Isla held the gift like it might disappear if she moved too fast. She did not open it right away. Her fingers traced the ribbon, careful, thoughtful, eyes flicking between Aiden and the small space of warmth he had brought with him.

"Oh," she said quietly, then laughed under her breath. "We didn't… we didn't get you anything."

The words came out too fast, honest and a little embarrassed. She glanced at her father, then back to Aiden. "Where we're from, Life Day isn't really a thing. No gifts. No showing up with cookies before sunrise." Her smile softened. "I'm sorry."

She finally opened the package, breath catching as she felt what rested inside before she even saw it. Her shoulders eased, some tension she hadn't named loosening. "This is… very kind," she said, voice careful, reverent. "Too kind."

Lorn had gone still.

He accepted the second gift with both hands, instinctively formal, as if refusing would be easier than accepting. When he saw what it was, his jaw tightened. He looked down at it for a long moment before lifting his eyes again.

"You didn't have to do this," he said, quietly. Not a refusal. A truth. "We're not used to being given things for simply… continuing."

He cleared his throat and turned abruptly toward the kitchen, already moving. Isla watched him go, brows lifting in question.

Lorn returned with a baking sheet, clean but well-used, held out with faint, awkward determination. "This is what we have," he said. "It's not ceremonial. It's just ours. You're welcome to it. Or to use it. Or to take it."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

Aiden watched Isla the way he watched a small flame in the wind, careful not to crowd it, careful not to startle it into going out. He saw how her fingers lingered on the ribbon, how she held the gift with a kind of reverence that had nothing to do with paper and everything to do with the fact that someone had chosen her.

When she blurted the apology, he shook his head immediately, soft but firm.

"No," he said, and there was warmth in it, not indulgence, just certainty. "You don't owe me anything. I don't give thise expecting something in return, that's not how this works." He didn't ask what she felt. He didn't try to name it for her. He simply stood there and let the moment belong to her.

"It's not too kind," he said quietly. "It's… appropriate." Then, after a beat, his mouth curved, small and honest.

Across the entryway, Lorn's stillness had weight. Aiden watched him accept the gift like a man taking a fragile object he wasn't sure he deserved to touch. When Lorn said the words 'simply continuing' Aiden's expression softened in a way that was more visible than usual, like something in his guard loosened on purpose.

"You've done more than continue," Aiden said. "But even if you hadn't." He paused, choosing the line that mattered. "Continuing counts. You guys are practically family, that's what my Dad thought, that's what I think. You both better get used to it."

When Lorn returned with the baking sheet, held out with that faintly awkward determination, Aiden blinked, genuinely caught. For a second, he didn't reach for it. Not because he didn't want it, but because he understood what it was. Aiden shifted the tin to one hand and reached out with the other, taking the sheet with care, as if it were something sacred. His fingers brushed the edge, worn smooth by use.

"This is better than ceremonial," he said, voice low. "This is real."

He looked up at Lorn, holding the man's gaze without pressure.

"I don't want to take it from you," Aiden added. "But I'd like to use it. If that's what you mean."

Then he glanced to Isla, and the calm in him gentled again, like he was speaking to both of them at once.

"And if you feel strange about not having anything for me," he said, almost conspiratorial, "you can do one thing that's free."

He lifted the cookie tin slightly. "Eat a cookie," he said. "And tell me if they're terrible. I can handle honesty. And let me be here for a little while. That's plenty."

"Where do you keep the kettle?" he asked, like this was the simplest way in the world to turn an awkward threshold into a morning. "If I'm going to be the strange Life Day visitor, I should at least earn my welcome by making the tea."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Isla let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She nodded once, small and decisive, then lifted the lid of the tin. The smell made her smile before she could stop it.

"All right," she said. "For honesty's sake."

She took one, bit into it, and closed her eyes for a second. "They're not terrible," she said solemnly, then opened one eye. "They're actually very good."

Lorn watched the exchange without interrupting. When Aiden mentioned family, something tightened in his chest. He did not argue. He rarely did when the truth landed cleanly.

He set the baking sheet down on the counter instead of reclaiming it. "Using it is what I meant," he said. "It's better that way."

At the mention of tea, he gestured toward the kitchen with a small tilt of his head. "Kettle's on the back burner. Cups are in the left cabinet. The mismatched ones."

He hesitated, then reached out and rested a hand briefly on the wrapped sword, grounding himself. "I don't know how to do this holiday properly," he said. "But you're welcome here. This morning, at least."

Isla was already moving toward the kettle. She looked back over her shoulder. "Life Day visitor or not," she said, "you make decent cookies. That counts for something."

The house felt warmer than it had an hour ago.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

Aiden's expression softened, a quiet warmth settling over his features as the kitchen came alive around them. Isla's verdict about the cookies drew a small, genuine smile from him, pride kept carefully modest.

"I'll take 'very good' as a win," he said, voice light, eyes flicking to her with gentle amusement. "Second cookie's still recommended for accuracy."

He turned to Lorn then, posture open and respectful, acknowledging the offer the way it deserved to be acknowledged, not as obligation, but as welcome.

"Thank you," Aiden said simply. "You don't need to know the holiday. This, tea, a warm kitchen, letting me in, is enough."

He moved to the kettle without hurry, hands steady, as if making tea was a small act of peace he could actually deliver. "Tell me how your mornings work," he added, glancing between them. "I'll follow your lead. I'm just glad to be here."