Private Goodnight Moons

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla had always liked the night better than the day.

Not for the quiet, necessarily - though that helped - but for the way the world seemed less sharp under moonlight. Edges softened. Expectations faded. And most importantly, people asked fewer questions when they were asleep.

She slipped out of her room just after the temple's lights dimmed for the evening cycle. Her boots were stuffed with thick socks to muffle her steps, her brown hair tucked into a hood she hadn't bothered to fasten properly. It bounced against her shoulders with each quiet, practiced step down the hallway.

She didn't need a vision to know which guards would be patrolling, or when the cleaner droids would come whirring down the corridor. She'd lived here long enough now to know the rhythm of this place like a heartbeat.

Outside, Naboo's night air wrapped around her like a whisper - cool, soft, and a little damp from a recent rain. The stars were out, bold and showy, and the moons had risen already, glowing like coins dropped in a dark lake.

She reached the little hill near the temple gardens where she'd told Phillip to meet her. Not exactly in the open, not exactly hidden. Just enough cover to feel like a secret without being one.

And now came the moment of truth.

Isla pulled her knees up to her chest and sat in the grass, hugging them with crossed arms. She didn't know if he'd actually come. He said he would. He'd promised.

But promises were easy to make in a warm room under soft lights with a mountain painting glowing behind you.

She rested her chin on her knees, watching the path.

"He better not chicken out," she muttered to herself. "I'll have to call him Paint Boy for the rest of his life if he does."

She looked up again at the moons, soft and whole and too far away to touch, but still there. Just watching.

She hoped Phillip was brave enough to show up.

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

A lot had been on Phillip's mind since he had last saw Isla. The vision he had been dragged into had plagued his mind heavily. He doubted that it would happen but that didn't stop it. He had caught himself pressing his hand to his chest and expecting to come away with bloody hands. He had even found himself telling his family that he loved them again, in case he'd never be able to say it to them again.

No-one would have blamed Phillip for staying in his room. For hiding away from Isla to prevent that vision from ever coming true. But he had promised her that he would be there for her. So of course he had started to sneak his way out of his dorm to get towards the hill. Whilst he didn't have anything muffling the sounds of his footsteps, Phillip was used to sneaking out of his house. This wasn't much difference as he kept himself low, carefully making his way out of the Temple.

Look at him. Misbehaving and sneaking out. Isla was a bad influence on him. Phillip broke out into a small smile at that thought, shaking his head afterwards. It was nice if he was being honest to himself. It was pushing himself to go out of his comfort zone and evolve as a person. The incident with the Starweird had caused him to evolve in a good way. He was still scared. He was still a fearful person at heart...but he was willing to stare it down. Perhaps that was why he was coming to see Isla. To face down the fear he had related to her...but he tried to push the fear away.

Finally he started to make it down the path, spotting a familiar sight in the distance as he raised his hand in greeting. He couldn't help but speed up his steps. He wouldn't admit it, but Phillip was still happy to see Isla. Even after he was nearly strangled by the Force, even after the vision of where he was stabbed...He still enjoyed seeing her. He still saw her as his best friend.

"...Hey there Munchkin."

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla's head snapped up the second she heard him. There was no mistaking that voice, even half-mumbled under his breath like he was still deciding whether or not to actually be here.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Munchkin?" she repeated, incredulous, like the word itself had personally offended her ancestors. "Did you really just call me that? What, you been hanging out with grumpy old Jedi Masters now? What's next, you gonna pat me on the head and give me a ration cookie?"

But her smile betrayed her. It was crooked and small, the kind that didn't come out for just anyone, and it stayed even as she rolled her eyes and scooted over on the hill to make room for him.

She didn't look at him right away. Just stared forward at the temple lights down the slope, at the moons still hanging heavy above the treetops. She felt her chest tighten - not like it did during a vision, not with that crushing inevitability - but in the quiet, squirmy way it did when emotions wanted to talk and she didn't want to let them.

Still, she was the one who asked him to come.

"Thanks for not flaking," she said, voice lower now, softer. "I wasn't sure you would. After… everything."

A beat.

"I wouldn't have blamed you."

She hugged her knees again. She didn't like this part. The after. The "talking about it" part, where you couldn't fight anything and there were no explosions to hide behind. Just honesty.

"I didn't mean to drag you into something like that," she said. "I really thought it would be... I dunno. Big. Exciting. Like we'd sneak aboard and help save the day, and someone would give us medals and we'd get written about in the archives or something. I thought maybe it'd be good for once."

Her voice got even quieter.

"But I just… I put you in danger. You could've died. Because of me."

She picked at the fabric of her sleeve, not looking at him, trying to sound offhand and failing miserably.

"And then I nearly - well, you know. And after the vision, I figured maybe you'd come back and decide I'm a total Force-cursed mess and not want to be my friend anymore."

She exhaled, a little shaky.

"But you're here. So either you're the dumbest boy on Naboo or the bravest one. Possibly both."

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

"No. I'm not going to pat you on the head and give you a ration cookie. 'Cause I ate all the cookies."

That didn't stop him from walking on over and ruffling Isla's hair with a small smile. It was different though. It felt tense. The atmosphere felt tense. They had a lot to talk about. But Phillip was going to wait for Isla to speak first, as he sat himself down on the hill and wrapped his arms around his knees staring up towards the Moons.

"...I made a promise to you Isla. That I wouldn't leave you. I don't make them lightly."

His voice was numb. Not entirely cold but void of emotion. Mostly because he was afraid what kind of emotion might come out if he wasn't careful. Anger? Frustration? Fear? It wasn't like he didn't feel those things. But he didn't want to. He wanted to focus on the more important emotions. The care he felt for Isla. The happiness he had when hanging out with her. But they needed to get over this before things could go back to normal. If they ever could go back to normal.

"Yes. I could have died because of you. And you could have died if I left you. But we didn't. We're still here."

Phillip gently punched at Isla's shoulder, keeping his eyes on the moons above them instead of looking at her. Like Isla, Phillip couldn't bring himself to look at her. He was afraid that seeing her face might make him more emotional. Instead he gently fell onto his back so he could lay against the hill and stare at the sky, resting his hands against his stomach.

"...We don't know the context behind the vision. You assume it's your fault. But what if I was the evil one in that situation? What if I had hurt people, and when you showed up, I let you...do what you did, because I couldn't hurt you?"

It was something that had been on his mind since then as well. Phillip knew he wasn't some kind of Paragon. That there was every chance he could become some kind of monster through some kind of manipulation or corruption. It was a better idea to him, that he was the Evil one in the vision and not Isla. But there was no point worrying about it.

"I could argue that I'm not the dumbest. I could argue that I'm the most cowardly. But the one thing I will not argue about is that I will always be here. Well...not here exactly. But you get what I mean. You're stuck with me, Munchkin."

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla let out a breath that was dangerously close to a laugh when Phillip ruffled her hair. She scrunched her face and flailed half-heartedly in retaliation, batting his hand away like a sleepy cat.

"Ugh, you did eat all the cookies, didn't you?" she groaned. "No wonder the ration cabinet smells like shame and regret."

She settled again, watching him sidelong as he sat beside her, then lay back on the grass like some kind of heroic painting-in-progress. His voice was quieter than usual. Measured. Not flat, exactly, but fragile, like glass that had already been cracked and was just waiting for someone to poke it.

Isla's mouth twisted when he said it. Yes. I could have died because of you.

It wasn't untrue. But he didn't throw it like a stone. He just said it, like it was a line in the story they both lived through, and not a wound.

And then that punch, soft, not even enough to budge her. But it still carried weight. Isla looked down at the patch of grass she'd mashed flat under her boots.

When he started spinning his theory, that maybe he was the one who'd gone dark, and she had done what she did because she had to, her head tilted slowly toward him. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're not allowed to out-empathy me," she muttered. "That's cheating."

Then she sighed, long and low, and dropped her chin back to her knees.

"Welcome to my world, Paint Boy," she said, tossing the name out with a crooked grin. "You get visions that make no sense, half of them are probably metaphorical, and they still keep you up at night anyway. Or worse, they do make sense, but only after you've made the worst possible decision."

She paused, then added, "Sometimes I think the Force just gets bored and makes stuff up. Like, 'Hmm, what if we show her stabbing her best friend in the chest today? That'll spice things up.'"

She finally looked at him, really looked.

"You're not cowardly, you know," she said. "You showed up. That's not nothing."

Then she squinted.

"But I am stuck with you, huh?" she said, like she was reading a terrible rule etched into the stars. "You sure? Even when I'm annoying and reckless and maybe going to have terrifying visions of you falling into lava or turning into a Sith Lord or, I dunno, getting eaten by a rancor in the cafeteria?"

She offered a hand over to him, half a handshake, half a pinky-promise, and completely ridiculous.

"You in, Paint Boy?" she asked, eyes soft now, but her smile returning. "Even if I never stop calling you that?"

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

"If you smelled regret, then it wasn't me. I don't do regret. Shame...Maybe. But not regret."

He drummed his fingers along his stomach, blinking at her comment about him not being allowed to out-empathy her. He wasn't trying to. It was just a theory that he had. One that he felt like would make the situation better. The vision might never come true, but if it did, Phillip wanted to think of every situation that could lead up to it. Maybe even thinking about it could lead to the vision coming true. But if it was to come true...he wanted Isla to be ready for it.

"I don't think I could survive in your world. Y'know? I overthink too much. I'd lock myself up in my room if I had any inkling what the future might hold. You say I'm not a coward, but I am. That's not...necessarily bad though. Because I still try when I'm scared. As much as I might hesitate beforehand...when I'm in a dangerous situation? I always seem to be able to act. I don't freeze."

It was a part of him that Phillip was slowly starting to come to understand. He was not going to inspire anyone on the battlefield. He was not going to be a valiant Jedi charging in headfirst as the first member of an attack...but he also wouldn't be the first one running away from battle. He turned his head over to look towards Isla as she looked at him. Giving her a small smile. It was a tired one. An exhausted smile. He had been struggling to sleep after all...but it was also an honest one. He wasn't going to hide how he felt around Isla...even if it would make dealing with her annoyances easier.

"Yes. As long as you know that I'm never going to leave you when things get dangerous and you're being reckless...Also I'm pretty sure if you see me getting eaten by a rancor in the cafeteria, you're having a dream, not an actual vision. Especially since I'd be too stringy for a Rancor. Plus, you owe me a Lightsaber after I lost mine when we were out there."

At that, he reached one hand into his pocket to pull out a crystal. He had kept it close since it had been gifted to him by the stranger at the auction and had yet to put it into a Lightsaber...but maybe that mission had been a sign for him to change that. He held it up to one of the Moons for a moment, before glancing over towards Isla, reaching his other hand to hers for their hand-shake-pinky-promise.

"You're stuck with me Munchkin. We're best friends...Don't think that means you'll always get paintings off me though."

With that said and done, he then offered out the crystal for her to hold.

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla rolled her eyes at the "Munchkin" again, but the edges of her mouth betrayed her. That was the thing with Phillip, he had a way of being infuriating and comforting at the same time. Like an itchy blanket you didn't want to give up because it still somehow kept you warm.

She listened quietly while he spoke. No interruptions. Just the soft night wind brushing through the grass and the occasional chirp of some moon-loving bug. It was rare, her being quiet this long. But his words deserved it.

"You're right," she said finally. "Being scared isn't the same as being a coward. Cowards run. You… stay. Even when you're obviously too smart for it."

Her voice dipped a little more serious, a little more real.

"That means something, Phillip. Especially to someone like me. Who kinda… doesn't always make it easy to stay."

She didn't say it was nice to hear. She didn't have to. It showed in the way her voice softened, the way her posture relaxed for the first time since she'd climbed the hill.

At the mention of the lightsaber, she winced dramatically.

"Okay, fine. You lost your lightsaber in a heroic act of bravery or whatever, so obviously I owe you."

Then he pulled out the crystal.

Her sarcasm evaporated.

Isla reached out without thinking and took it from his hand, careful, like it was some sleeping creature. The crystal caught the moonlight immediately, scattering it into little sharp glints of green and white across her palm. It hummed faintly, not audibly, but she felt it all the same, low and steady like a heartbeat pressed against hers.

She stared at it for a long moment.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. "Kind of unfair that it's yours and not mine."

But her tone was warm now, teasing in a way that felt natural again.

She turned it over in her fingers before holding it up to the sky, lining it up with the smallest of Naboo's moons. The light danced again, and Isla's smile grew.

"I still haven't built mine either," she added. "The saber. I keep putting it off. Guess I thought maybe I wasn't ready. Or maybe I didn't want to make one just to lose it somewhere in deep space or stab someone in a vision."

She passed the crystal back with a touch more care than she usually showed for anything.

"Maybe we should build ours together," she said. "Like, not at the same time obviously because I'm gonna need you to double-check I don't put mine together backwards and accidentally ignite it into my face."

Then, with a little grunt of effort, she slid off her haunches and lay back in the grass beside him, arms flopping out to her sides like she'd just surrendered to gravity. Their shoulders brushed. She didn't move away.

Staring up at the moons, Isla exhaled slowly, letting the stillness of the moment wrap around her. No visions. No pressure. Just stars, and sky, and Phillip not running away.

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

Phillip wasn't used to talking for so long without someone interuptting him. He wasn't sure if he liked it. Liked the sound of his own voice. No. He didn't. His eyes focused on the Moons still, even as Isla spoke. He couldn't help but grin when Isla said that sometimes he was too smart to stay. It wasn't something he'd necessarily agree with. If he was smart, he'd stop them from ever getting into the situations in the first place.

"Well...You mean something to me Isla. You're too important for me to run away and leave. You might make it hard to stay, but I make it harder for me to leave."

Phillip didn't have to say that, but he wanted to. It was clear enough without him saying any words that Isla was important to him, he had already said they were best friends but this was different. He had said it out into the Galaxy that Isla was important. A friendship originally forged around a campfire that had been solidified and worked upon in the fire of battle and blood. It was a bond that was slowly growing unbreakable.

He turned himself around on his side so he could face Isla, as she looked at the crystal. It was nice to see the way the light bounced off the crystal and the way she gazed upon it. Isla was someone who could appreciate the beauty of the crystal, the same way Phillip had. In a different way to how his family had looked at it. They thought it was a waste of credits but Phillip had been so...grateful to have been gifted it.

"...I don't deserve it. I was told that more often than not, people have to go on a challenge to get it. That it's so difficult to achieve...yet I earned it in an auction...I didn't even earn it. Someone started betting for it on my own behalf since I ran out of credits..."

She might have been teasing over it, but it was something that honestly plagued Phillip's thoughts. Did he deserve the crystal truly? He had thought at the time that it was the Force's Will that made it so he got it but now...he wasn't too sure as he rolled back onto his back to stare at the Moons.

"We should build our crystals. Not together, like you said. It would be too problematic. If one went wrong, the other person would get distracted. But we can look for materials together. Stuff to make the Lightsabers more...Ours. We can try to see if we can't get some wood from Mirater for you to use as a Handle maybe..."

Making a Lightsaber was a work of Art in its own. They were masterpieces. Not weapons. Phillip had already thought of dozens of different designs for something to use for his Lightsaber. The types of handle material to use. The shape of it. It was all so much for him to go over. It was even more difficult than using a paintbrush.

Yet none of that mattered for Phillip as he noticed Isla laying herself down, a small smile flickering on his face as he stared up at the Moons yet again, Gently nudging Isla with his shoulder when they brushed against each other before he leaned against her.

"The Moons still remind me of you, you know? They have a Lighter side that they show off. But a Darker side that they keep hidden..."

It was...nice. This moment with just Phillip and Isla. He didn't feel any pressure to paint. He didn't feel any pressure to be the best version of himself. He could just be himself. It was just him, Isla, the Moons and the Force as he closed his eyes to relax.

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla tilted her head toward him when he said she meant something to him, the corners of her mouth tugging into a quiet, content smile. It wasn't the smug kind she used when she won an argument or tricked someone into letting her eat their dessert. It was the rare kind, the one that only showed up when her chest didn't feel like it was full of static and pressure and too many futures all pressing down at once.

When he turned to face her and admitted what had been bothering him about the crystal, Isla didn't laugh. She didn't tease him. She just watched him for a moment, his expression caught between guilt and wonder, and then gently reached over to poke him in the forehead.

"You didn't earn it?" she repeated, raising a brow. "Okay, maybe not in the heroic 'fought a giant beast on an ice planet' kind of way. But you still have it, Phillip. The Force let it end up in your hands. That counts."

She turned her head back toward the sky, brushing her hair out of her face with a breeze-slicked sigh.

"It's not about how you get something like that. It's what you do with it. That crystal's yours now. You get to shape it. Prove you deserve it every day just by the kind of Jedi you are."

She paused.

"Plus, if the Force didn't want you to have it, I doubt it would've let you survive nearly being thrown into a wall by a gravitic pulse and being choked out by your emotionally unstable best friend. So... y'know. Signs."

At the mention of Mirater, her smile faltered, just for a second. Not a big shift, barely more than a twitch at the edge of her mouth, but it was there. Her fingers curled slightly into the grass beside her.

"I can't go back to Mirater," she said softly. "Not yet. Not until Lorn says I can."

But she didn't let it hang long. She shook it off like water and pushed forward.

"I still want something unique for mine, though," she said, voice lighter again. "Not too heavy. Not too polished. Something that looks like it's been through stuff. Like it has history already. Like it could have been carried by some wanderer who whispered to the Force like it was an old friend."

She gave a small laugh at herself. "Okay, that sounds weird out loud. But you get it, right?"

When he nudged her shoulder and then leaned in slightly, she let herself rest against him too, their arms pressed side by side now.

At his last words, about the moons and their hidden sides, she went quiet again. Not because it hurt. But because it landed.

She looked up at them, luminous and distant, and exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," she said. "That feels… accurate."

Her hand found a stray bit of grass and twisted it idly between her fingers.

"You're not wrong, you know," she added. "About the moons. About me. But I'm trying not to keep the dark stuff hidden forever. Just... until I know it won't hurt anyone when it gets out."

Then, with a glance at him, she grinned again. Smaller this time. Real.

"Besides. You already saw the worst of it and you're still here. So that's definitely your problem now."

And she leaned back fully against him, comfortable now in the quiet, as the moons watched over them both.

"Who bought that for you anyways?"

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

The sudden poke against his forehead just caused Phillip to blink to himself in confusion. Shaking his head ever so slightly at Isla's words, even as he smiled to himself.

"It's meant to be some kind of...mystical challenge. Master Phylis was telling me about it...I'm not sure if you've met her yet. She's not fully affiliated with the Shiraya. She might end up being my Master though. She asked me to think about it."

He had put plenty of thought into it. At first, he had been eager to run off to become her Padawan so he could see the Galaxy but he was finding a reason to want to stay here on Naboo. It wasn't going to be an easy choice now. But sometimes the best choices in life weren't easy.

That thought was pushed to the back of his mind however as he turned to face Isla once more as she spoke about what she wanted for her Lightsaber. How she couldn't go back to Mirater...He could have offered to get some wood for her, but it would be better if Isla got the materials herself. Nodding slowly as he could understand what she meant about the materials she wanted.

"I get you. You don't want...something brand new and sparkling. You want something that looks like it's been through tough situations but came out of it. Something that will last and can prove that. Though I think you're a bit too small to have an "old friend."

Phillip couldn't help but tease. Though if he thought about it...The Force was technically an old friend to all Force Sensitives. It had been there, near enough since they were born. They just didn't always know it. He watched as Isla spoke about her own darkness whilst she played with the grass, letting her talk without interruption...before he felt like it was his turn to speak.

"Sometimes the Sun helps the Moons to show off their Lighter side. Helps them to keep their Darker side hidden, even though the Sun knows it exists."

He rolled back onto his back, shuffling so that they were leaning against each other once more. A small smile spreading across his face as for once he didn't have dozens of thoughts rushing through his mind.

"If you're the Moons, I guess that makes me a Sun. Gross. I don't like being bright."

The lad waited until he answered Isla's question. He just wanted to enjoy this moment before he let his voice ruin the silence. Normally he hated the silence. It meant his mind could get so loud, yet in this moment? His mind was silent. He wasn't overthinking or panicking

"...That's the funny thing. I don't know who he was. He sent me a message on my Datapad during the auction telling me he'd try and do his best to get me the crystal. He must have saw how disappointed I looked as the bids were rising...He reminded me how kind strangers can be sometimes though."

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla smirked sideways at him, one eyebrow lifting ever so slightly at his "too small to have an old friend" jab.

"Wow," she deadpanned, "height jokes and unsolicited metaphors. You're really spoiling me tonight."

Still, she didn't actually sound annoyed. If anything, there was warmth behind her sarcasm, like she found comfort in the familiar rhythm of teasing him. Her shoulder stayed pressed against his, and she didn't even bother pretending to inch away.

She stared back up at the sky for a moment, letting his words settle, and then said softly, "But… that metaphor? About the moons and the sun? I like it." She didn't look at him this time, just let her voice hang between them. "Not just because it makes me sound mysterious and complicated, which, obviously, I am, but because... maybe that's what we are. You and me. Not the same, but kinda made better by each other."

She plucked another piece of grass and flicked it lazily. "Like, if you're the sun, gross, as you said, and I'm the moon, then maybe the Force put us in the same sky for a reason."

Her tone stayed light, but the meaning behind her words lingered. You help me show my better side, even when I don't know how.

When he told her about the stranger, Isla's brows furrowed slightly, a different sort of expression settling over her face. Curiosity, for sure, but something else, too. Something a little like longing.

"Huh," she said. "Weird. Some mysterious dude just shows up and buys you a lightsaber crystal like he's your secret destiny sugar-daddy?"

She tried to sound playful, but it wasn't completely covering the little pang inside her chest. "Must be nice. I didn't get a random stranger buying me cool ancient artifacts. Closest I ever got was that one old lady on a transport who gave me half a granola bar because I looked 'like a sad soup ghost.'"

She paused.

Then she was quiet again, her gaze flicking toward Phillip's profile when he talked about Master Phylis. That name, it stuck. Isla turned it over in her mind, filing it next to all the other uncertainties that had been piling up since Calladene.

"So…" she started carefully, not wanting to ruin the moment but needing to ask, "if she's not part of the Shirayan Order, and you end up being her Padawan… does that mean you'll leave?"

Her voice was calm, but there was something underneath it. Not desperation, not even sadness, just that strange, uncomfortable sort of nervousness that comes from caring too much and not knowing what's going to change.

"Like, not forever-forever. I get that Jedi travel, I'm not dumb. But…"

She hesitated, twisting the grass between her fingers again.

"Would you still come back?"

She said it casually, like she was asking if he'd remember to return a library datapad. But her shoulder pressed just a little harder against his.

Like maybe the moon didn't want the sun to go too far.

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

"You deserve to be spoiled tonight. I feel like...you were more shaken up than I was."

He rested his head against her shoulder as Isla spoke about the metaphor. He hadn't thought about the idea of them being put in the same sky together. It was more how he felt like he brought up the good in Isla. Yet there somewhat in a similar sky. They could have been anywhere else. Phillip could have stayed with his family. Or had gotten more popular with people in the Order...and might never have met Isla. So the Force had put them in that position. It was interesting to think about.

"You've got something better than a random stranger. You've got me."

At first, it might have sounded like Phillip was being egotistical, confident in himself as he kept his head against Isla's shoulder whilst his eyes were focused on the Moons. He couldn't bring himself to actually look at Isla whilst he spoke. It was something that was sensitive to him. Important to him. Because Isla did have him. He wanted her to know that.

"That Stranger might have helped get me the crystal. But would he come with me if I had to go face an unknown danger? Would he put his own life at risk to stay behind with me? I don't think so."

Then once again Isla was silent. Not the good kind of silent. The kind where something was going on in their mind and they needed time to think about it. And when she spoke, Phillip understood why. He wasn't sure how to reply to it as he rested his hands against his stomach. If Isla was to look at him, she'd be able to see that he wasn't looking at the Moons anymore. No. If anything, it felt like he was looking past them, into the Galaxy ahead of them all.

"If I accept her offer, yes. It means I'll have to leave for travelling. She...fits what I need the most in a Master I think. She isn't focused on fighting. She wants to preserve history. To teach. She travels and I want to see more of the Galaxy. But..."

At first, it was like Phillip was trying to come up with some kind of excuse. Some way to find a reason to get out of Naboo. It was a change compared to how he was during the auction. Because now Phillip wanted to stay here. And that's when he felt Isla push her shoulder harder against his and he finally glanced over towards her, before resting his hand atop of Isla's, to get her to stop twiddling with the grass.

"I promised you Munchkin. I'll always be there for you. No matter what, I will always come back. This is my home. Right here."

It was as raw of the Truth as Phillip could make it. If he ever had to choose between staying in space and staying on Naboo, he'd pick Naboo. It hadn't felt like it in the past, but this was his Home.

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla didn't respond right away. She just stayed still, letting his words settle around them like the dew that would soon creep across the grass. The night air had turned cooler, brushing over their faces with quiet insistence, and the scent of damp soil filled the space between their shared breaths.

When Phillip rested his head on her shoulder, her body had gone rigid for a split second. Reflex, not rejection, but then she relaxed, slowly, deliberately, until her cheek rested lightly on top of his hair. Their arms, side by side, pressed warm through their sleeves. It was a soft thing. An anchoring thing. And Isla wasn't sure she'd ever realized how much she needed that.

The moment he said, "This is my home. Right here," she blinked fast, eyes stinging with the kind of feeling that made her want to yell at him and hug him at the same time. Which was basically every day, really.

She didn't move her hand from under his. Instead, she turned it palm-up, so their fingers could link. Not a dramatic gesture. Just a quiet, steady one.

"You're such a nerf," she said, voice small. "Saying stuff like that. You trying to make me cry or something? Because it's working. A little."

Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, fidgety and awkward and brave.

"I'm glad she fits what you need," she added, finally. "Really. I mean, yeah, I wish it didn't mean you'd be gone for long stretches of time and probably learning way cooler stuff than I get stuck with here. But still."

A pause.

"You deserve it, Phillip. You've always wanted to see more of the galaxy. And the history stuff? That's so you it almost makes me mad."

She smiled again, not at the sky this time, but at the thought of it, him out there, learning things, sketching ancient ruins into a ragged little notebook with charcoal stains on his sleeves, probably forgetting to eat for hours because he found a half-buried temple inscription.

Then her expression sobered again.

"But... if you're gonna be gone that much," she said, her voice softer, "you gotta tell me about the places you want to see. Like, now. Tonight. I didn't grow up learning a bunch about the galaxy. Mirater didn't have a lot of... anything."

She scooted a little closer, if that were even possible.

"I want to know what you're dreaming about. The places that are pulling at you. And maybe someday when you're out there, and I'm still stuck here being lectured on the ethics of Force intuition again..."

She nudged him gently.

"I'll show up. Just pop in. Say hi. Help you steal a crystal or punch a shady dealer. Y'know. The usual."

The moons above had dipped a little lower, casting longer shadows across the garden hill. Around them, the temple remained asleep and oblivious. Just a pair of Padawans lying in the grass, side by side, the kind of close only formed by fire, fear, and friendship.

"Tell me your dreams, Paint Boy," she whispered. "So when I see visions of you and this Master out there, I know where you are."

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

"...If you want me to stay, you can ask. I don't want to leave you Isla."

Yet another thing that could potentially make Isla cry that Phillip had said. His eyes focused throughout the space ahead of them as he linked his fingers with Isla's. A physical link. Anchoring both of them right now. It was something they all needed.

It was strange in a way. This was everything he had wanted. Isla was even pointing it out but he couldn't help but hesitate with it. Did he deserve this? Did he want to leave? There was a part of him that did. To go and see the Galaxy as a whole. He bit his tongue for a moment, debating whether or not he should hold back what he wanted to say before sighing.

"You deserve to be able to see the Galaxy as well. Not just through other people's stories. You've been held back from being able to see so much...It's not fair. It should be you out there. Not me. I've gotten to see plenty already."

As Isla's voice softened, Phillip squeezed her hand gently. This was where he wanted to be. In this precise moment. Being off, learning about the Galaxy or learning about Ancient history? None of that mattered compared to being here. With the cool breeze against his face, the ground beneath him, the Moonlight beaming down on him and Isla's hand in his.

"...I know this will become a dream of mine when I'm out there. Dreaming of moments like this, where we can just be sat under the stars, or under the Moons or under anything really and talk. Not having to worry about the future. Or the past. Just being in this moment."

He let his voice trail off at that quietly. Letting the silence fill the air as he thought about his other dreams. What else did he want to do with his life? Where did he want to be? It was strange. Everything had originally been based around getting away from Home. Being his own person. Yet he finally found himself being a person he liked.

"...One of the things I wanted to do as find the perfect view. I know what you'd probably say. It's impossible. I think it is as well, if I'm honest. But...there has to be some kind of sight out there that makes me stop and take a look. A view that I don't want to paint, not because a painting couldn't take in its beauty but...because it's beauty deserves to be kept secret. Only for a select few to see it."

His face scrunched up in a frown for a moment before he brought his attention back over towards Isla, properly taking her in. The way the wind was blowing her hair, the little smile that made him feel good because he rarely saw it around others. And his voice softened ever so slightly as he spoke, quiet. Almost like a whisper carried on the wind.

"...What do you want Isla? You always ask me about my dreams. What about yours?"

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla lay silent beside him for a long time.

The grass beneath them had warmed slightly where their bodies pressed into it, crushed into the shape of two teenagers caught between childhood and purpose, moonlight tracing soft outlines around their edges. The air was so still now she could hear his heartbeat in the pause between her own. Their hands stayed linked, thumbs brushing, fingers gently curled, and Isla didn't let go.

She couldn't.

When Phillip asked her what she wanted, her throat tightened. Not the way it did when a vision hit. This wasn't some cosmic pressure, some whisper from the Force, some terror waiting behind her eyes. This was just her.

"I want peace," she said finally. "I want to stop feeling like there's something broken in me that I can't fix. I want to stop being scared of what I might do to people if I lose control."

Her voice shook, just once, but she powered through it.

"I want to help people. I want to fix things. I want to stop being the girl that causes all the problems and start being the girl who makes things better. That's what I dream about. Not medals or archive stories or whatever. Just… that feeling. That I'm allowed to exist in this galaxy without breaking it."

She sniffed, wiping her free hand against the sleeve of her tunic.

"And maybe one day, when I'm not constantly a risk to everyone I care about, I'll get to see more of the galaxy, too. Go to those places you dream about. Stand on top of some mountain and breathe air that hasn't already been through six temple filters."

She laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that hurt.

Then she got quiet again, her fingers squeezing his just a little tighter, grounding herself.

"And yeah," she said, barely above a whisper now. "I want you to stay."

She stared up at the moons, twin sentinels hanging over them like they were listening.

"I know I shouldn't say it. I know it's selfish. But we only just got here, you and me. You're one of my only friends, Phillip. You're the one person I don't feel like I have to explain every single broken part of me to. And if you leave... I don't know. It's like losing the only safe place I've got."

Her voice wobbled, and she pressed her cheek against the side of his head where it rested on her shoulder, holding him there with quiet desperation.

"But what if you stay and regret it later? What if I mess that up too?"

She blinked hard at the sky, voice thick now, stupidly dramatic in the way that only a heart in the middle of figuring itself out could be.

"I can't offer you the stars, Phillip. I can't give you ancient temples or forgotten truths or the smell of fresh nebula air on your coat. I can't give you much at all except long nights like this, and a lot of really complicated feelings I haven't figured out how to not say out loud."

Her fingers tangled tighter with his.

"And that doesn't feel like enough."

She turned her head, just slightly, so her temple rested against his hair, eyes closed now. Their legs bumped together as the breeze shifted, and the night wrapped itself around them again like it knew they needed a moment to last longer than it should.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm scared I'm not good enough for the people who stay. And I'm scared of what I become when they leave."

Then, after a pause-

"…So yeah. I want you to stay. But I also want you to be happy. Even if it's not here. Even if it's not... with me."

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

Phillip listened to Isla's every word as she began to spoke. A small frown slowly coming over his face as he heard her dreams. What she wished for. He could hear her voice shaking, and gently gave her hand another squeeze. He was here. Yet...something inside of him hurt. Deeply as he heard Isla's sniffling. He wanted to be able to help with this...but what could he do? This wasn't something he knew how to fix. How to help with. He could be there, for Isla to figure it out but he couldn't help her figure it out.

There was a part of him that wanted to give her a hug. To hold her close as she buried her cheek against his shoulder, but he didn't dare risk letting go of her hand, in fears that she might float away from everything held up inside of her. These weren't problems he had to ever deal with. He wasn't some super powerful kid that had to learn how to control himself. If anything, he was average. Mediocre. He wasn't anything special...but Isla was.

He rolled carefully onto his side, so that he could throw his spare arm around Isla to pull her in for an embrace. And when he spoke, his voice was soft. Almost like a whisper gently being carried on the breeze. To say something that was only for him, Isla and the Moons to hear as he clenched his eyes shut, trying to figure his way through his own thoughts.

"...I wanted to leave Naboo so much, you know? It didn't feel like home. I was alone. I felt like my family didn't care for me. It's why I was so eager to get off world and explore everything. It's what I've wanted for the longest time, even before I became a Jedi. Then Master Phylis asked if I had a Master...and the idea of finally having someone focused on teaching me made me so happy. I could finally get off Naboo..."

His forehead gently pressed up against Isla's, letting the silence fill the air for a moment. It was clear there was a "but" coming into the speech, but he wanted to hold onto this moment. He was trying to figure out his purpose. Was his duty to go and focus on himself? To study what he wanted to study...or was it to help Isla? To help be the Sun to her Moon?

"...But then I met you Isla. You were weird. A little bit creepy at first...Until I got to know you. Until I spoke to you and realised you were just a normal girl. Yes, you have those visions, yes you can be dangerous...but at your core? In your heart? You're normal. And...I love to see that smile on your face. The one where you're trying to hide it. It makes me feel...relaxed."

Another small pause. For Phillip to breathe, as the wind blew past the pair of them, messing up Phillip's hair ever so slightly.

"...I don't need the stars Isla. I don't need ancient truths, or forgotten temples. What I need is for you to feel safe. To feel like you have someone to lean on. I'd be happy out there. I won't lie. But I am also happy /here/. With you. In this moment. Because...I'm weak. I'm average. But...with you? I feel like I'm special. I can make you smile when others can't. And I get that you're scared of not being good enough but..."

Another small squeeze of Isla's hand, alongside squeezing her in the small hug he was giving. Just reassuring her that he was here still, and that he wasn't going to leave.

"...I'll always be at your side. Until you don't need me anymore. Until you can get that peace you deserve. You don't need to be fixed. You need people to care for you. To be by you. And I will. Because I promised.."

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla didn't know how to answer him right away.

She felt the arm slide around her, the way Phillip pulled her in gently like he thought she might shatter if he moved too fast. Her breath hitched when his forehead pressed against hers, and in that moment, something in her that had been coiled so tightly for so long finally... loosened.

Her fingers stayed tangled with his, and now her free hand found the fabric of his tunic, gripping it lightly at his chest. Grounding herself. Keeping him close like if she let go, he'd vanish into all the empty places her visions liked to whisper about.

"You always say you're average," she murmured, voice thick and trembling, "but you're not. Not to me."

Her eyes blinked fast. She wasn't crying. Not really. But her vision blurred anyway, and the stars overhead turned into soft orbs of shifting light.

"You don't have to glow like the sun, or fight like a champion, or speak like some grand Jedi philosopher. You stay. You show up. You're here, even when it's hard. Even when I'm hard."

A small laugh slipped out, startled and sharp and wet with emotion.

"And that makes you everything."

Her voice broke a little, and she buried her face against his neck for a second. Just long enough to breathe. Just long enough to let herself fall into the safety he offered, this strange anchor who had stumbled into her life and made it mean something.

"I'm so scared of messing this up," she whispered into the crook of his shoulder. "You make me feel like maybe I'm not broken. Like maybe... I could be someone better, just because you believe it. And I've never had that before, Phillip. Not like this."

She pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks streaked with tears she couldn't quite remember shedding. Her thumb brushed along his jaw like she didn't entirely believe he was real.

"I want you to stay," she said. "Not because I'm afraid of being alone, okay, maybe partly that, but mostly because I want you here. I want to go through all of it with you. The bad training days, the dumb temple lessons, the midnight sneak-outs and vision-freakouts and dumb ration cookie arguments. I want you in it. With me."

She paused, barely breathing, her eyes locked to his like she was making a promise in the same language the stars spoke.

"And when the time comes, when we're ready... we'll leave together."

A breath.

"We'll see the galaxy together."

Her forehead found his again. Softer this time. Not trembling. Steady.

"You stay," she whispered. "And I'll show you that you were never average."

And then she just stayed there, curled beside him, clinging tightly to the one place in the whole galaxy that made her feel like she wasn't a storm in a girl's body. The moons above them turned silver-gold in the misty air, and the hill below felt less like a hiding place and more like a beginning.

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

Something inside Phillip...It didn't necessarily break, but it opened something. He just let Isla speak. He had known that he wasn't average to her. It was one of the things he enjoyed about spending time with her. But to hear that he was everything? Phillip's own vision started to blur for a moment. Tears welling up. They weren't sad tears, no. Far from it. He wouldn't be able to explain it as he just rested his forehead against Isla's.

"I'll always show Isla. It's the one thing I can do. I can't win any Fights. I can't beat anyone in a debate. I'm not some genius...but I can show up. Every time you need me. I can be right here."

As he saw the tears staining Isla's cheeks, he moved his arm away from the hug for a moment so he could bring his hand up to her face, gently wiping the tears away through his own tear stained vision, a stupid little smile spreading across his face. It was anchoring in a way. This wasn't some kind of dream. It wasn't a vision. It was real. Even if it was filled with tears, Phillip didn't want to leave this moment.

"You /aren't/ broken Isla. You're hurt. You're damaged. But you aren't broken. Broken implies that you need to be put back together...You can be better. You can be someone who helps. Just in the same way that to you, I'm not someone average. To me? You're a Moon. You're someone who helps me push myself. To have faith in myself."

There would obviously still be some days where the pair would be separated. They couldn't literally be inseparable or could they? They couldn't always be by each other's side physical but...Phillip closed his eyes for a moment, holding his head against Isla's gently and tried to feel her through the Force. To be familiar with how she felt. So that whenever they were apart, he could try to reach through the Force to her. To let her know that he was thinking of her, or that he'd be there if she needed him. It was another bond he was making between the pair.

"I'll stay Isla. This is my home. Naboo. If I can...I'll try to see if I can't persuade Master Phylis to stay here for a while as well. Try to get the best of both...but if I can't? I'm staying here. With you. We'll go through our training together. I'll support you every step of the way. I'll stay here...and show you that you aren't broken. That you just...need someone to show you how important you are to them. Not how important your visions are. Not how important your Force potential is. How important You are."

At that, Phillip firmly jabbed Isla in the shoulder. Adding emphasis that he meant her as a person. Who she was on the inside. Then he wrapped his arm around her in a hug once more. He didn't want to leave this moment. It was something he wanted to last forever. A small whisper, more of a mumble escaping his lips...

"...I'd love to paint this. You. Me. Just...staring up at the sky"

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla didn't try to stop the tears after that. What would've been the point? They weren't the kind that made her feel weak. These were the kind that felt like something cracked open, not broken, but finally released. Like pressure bleeding out of a sealed chamber.

She let herself be held.

When Phillip wiped her cheeks, she didn't shy away like she usually might have. She leaned into the touch, the soft trail of his fingers grounding her, reminding her this was real. That he was real. That someone was willing to stay, not because they had to, not because the Force had screamed at them to, but because they wanted to. That meant more than she could ever say out loud without melting entirely.

"You're the worst at compliments," she whispered, smiling through the wetness on her face. "You called me damaged and poked me. That's got to be some kind of record."

But the teasing was softer now, low and affectionate, like an echo of all the laughter they hadn't had time for after Calladene. She let herself fall against him fully, her head resting against his shoulder again, their hands still linked, her other arm slipping around him beneath his own.

When he closed his eyes and reached for her in the Force, she felt it.

Like warm light tugging gently at the edges of her mind. No visions. No overwhelming flood of futures or screams or fractured timelines. Just... presence. A quiet pulse in the current, unmistakably him. She leaned into it like she would a sunbeam through a cold window.

"Thats calming." she said. "Even when you don't say anything. That's how I'll know."

She nodded against his chest when he said he'd try to get his Master to stay longer, but when he promised outright, "I'm staying here. With you.", her whole body gave the tiniest shudder, and her breath caught like a secret too big to hold.

She turned her head so her forehead rested at the side of his jaw. His heartbeat was steady there, close enough to hear.

"You really mean it," she said. Not a question. A revelation. "You're actually going to stay."

And then, impossibly, her smile returned. A real one this time. The kind that reached her eyes, even though they were still red and watery. She closed them, letting the weight of the night settle around them again, and let herself imagine what came next. Not alone. Not broken. Not forgotten.

Just... them.

When he whispered about painting this moment, her laugh came like a little puff of air against his collarbone.

"You better," she said. "And if you do, you have to add all the weird details. Like how my nose is kind of red from crying, and your hair's sticking up from the breeze, and my boots are covered in grass stains."

She gave a soft sigh, nuzzling her cheek just slightly closer against his shoulder, fully at peace in the dark.

"And maybe when it's done... we'll hang it in the temple. Right where everyone can see it. A reminder."

She smiled again.

"That sometimes, the Force doesn't scream. Sometimes it just... whispers the right person into your life."

And she held him there, quiet and still, until the stars faded into the soft glow of dawn.

Phillip Slate​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard

It might have been a fruitless endeavour, but Phillip continued to gently wipe at Isla's tears as they formed, running his thumb over her face gently. It was a soft moment. Something gentle. Isla believed herself to be a danger. Something potentially monstrous, but Phillip was treating her like a valuable piece of art. A vulnerable piece of pottery, where the slightest wrong move could cause her to shatter into dozens of pieces.

"Well. It is a compliment. Damaged things are better than something new. They've seen things. They've been through experiences. People think that only unbroken things can be perfect. But I think...the opposite. Sometimes to be perfect, they have to be broken and put back together. Others might think every little crack and break ruins it...but I think it enhances them."

All of that over Isla saying he was the worst at saying compliments. He wanted to prove her wrong. That he could be good at them. He didn't necessarily understand why he wanted to prove he was good at them. He just focused on Isla, breaking out into a grin when she said it was calming. He could only assume that she meant the Force as he rested his head against her gently.

"...That's how we can feel each other, even when we aren't next to each other. I don't know...if we can talk through the Force. I haven't tried it. But we can try it some day. That way distance won't matter as much...Of course it means I'd have to deal with you annoying me when I'm trying to sleep, or when I'm trying to focus on my own thoughts."

A little playful tease, as Phillip rolled his eyes. Isla might not have realised it, but it also meant a lot to Phillip for him to say that. His thoughts were the one place that he could truly be himself. Sure, he had told Isla that he'd tell her his dreams and thoughts, but it was different if it was your actual thoughts they could hear. That's what he was implying to try. Telepathy. It was something they could work on in the future. Until then, they'd be able to just send silly little messages to each other over the Net.

He didn't say anything when Isla came up the revelation that Phillip was actually going to stay. Instead he just gently moved himself, so that Isla's head could rest against his chest. So she could both feel and hear his heartbeat. Something to steady her and anchor her in this moment. A reminder of what exactly was staying here. It wasn't Phillip's mind, dreams or soul that was staying here. Well, it was but the most important thing that was staying here on Naboo was his heart.

Yet for the slightest moment, Isla would feel Phillip's heart race at the mentioning of having the painting be in view for everyone in the Temple to see. A sudden flush coming to his face. Phillip couldn't quite explain it to himself. Why he felt so flustered at the idea of letting everyone else see something like that.

"...Yeah. I can do that. The Force doesn't always have to scream. Sometimes it just whispers to your heart and makes you open up..."

And with that, silence filled the air once more. Phillip felt no need to ruin it. He just closed his eyes and played with Isla's hair. Every so often bringing his thumb back to remove any tears. Not letting any sound break him out of this moment until the stars faded from sight and the sun began to rise. But even as the moons faded in the Light, this Sun could still see his favourite Moon right in front of him.

- End -