Private Healing Promises, Hopeful Hearts

[Arhiia Voronwe]

Tags: Aiden Porte
​

Arhiia finished the last few bites of breakfast with a soft contented sigh, her smile lingering long after the plate was empty. When she rose, she reached for her father's cane as naturally as if it were an extension of her own hand. The soft ching of beskar striking wood floor began to echo in steady rhythm with her steps — proud, deliberate, unmistakably hers.

Theed Market

Walking beside him through the winding paths of Theed felt unreal. Sunlight spilled across white marble streets, catching on fountains and flowers, and every so often Arhiia caught herself brushing a fingertip along a railing or letting her gaze linger on a balcony simply because she could. Because she was here. Walking freely. With him.

The cane tapped, chimed, whispered against the ground, marking her presence with the strength of a warrior and the grace of something softer.

Inside the small boutique near the edge of the marketplace, she froze in place.

Bathing suits.

So many colors, cuts, fabrics. Some modest. Some… decidedly not.

"Oh Force…" she muttered under her breath, pressing a palm to her cheek as heat threatened to bloom there again. Her eyes danced from one style to the next — a high-necked piece in soft sky blue, a darker indigo one that hugged the waist, a pale cream set that was far too daring for her sanity.

Her pulse kicked.

She lifted one, then another, holding the fabric against her hip before immediately shaking her head.

"Nope. Ashla help me, nope."

Her blue eyes darted to another display — something understated, elegant, simple. A soft sapphire suit, modest in cut but with delicate silver threading along the edges that caught the light like starlit water. Feminine without flaunting. Beautiful without begging attention.

She exhaled.

"This one," she whispered to herself, fingertips brushing the cool fabric. "It feels like me."

Her blond hair slid over her shoulder as she carried it to the counter, cheeks still pink. The thought of wearing it in front of him, of stepping into a pool beneath the open sky while he watched — it made her stomach flutter in ways she couldn't control.

But she didn't shy from it.
Not anymore.

After the suit came the supplies — woven baskets, fresh fruit from the open-air stalls, warm bread wrapped in cloth, a few pastries she insisted were necessary for morale, and a bottle of Nabooian blossom wine for the night under the stars.

Every item she picked, she imagined them sharing. Every choice warmed her chest just a little more.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the city again, her arms were full, the cane tapping a quiet counter-rhythm beside her steps, the breeze tugging gently at her hair.

"This is going to be perfect," she murmured to herself, almost breathless with anticipation.

The springs were more beautiful than she had even dared imagine.

The path opened into a clearing framed by tall, ancient stone, vines draping like nature's curtains. Steam curled lazily from crystalline pools fed by small natural waterfalls. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in shifting gold beams, painting the water in shimmering patterns that danced like living light.

Arhiia stepped forward slowly, breath caught in her throat.

Her cane sank lightly into soft moss as she leaned on it, drinking in the scene with wide blue eyes.

"It's…"

She swallowed, overwhelmed.

"It's incredible."

Her voice softened, almost reverent.

"I didn't know places like this existed outside of holobooks."

The breeze carried the scent of warm water and wildflowers, brushing her hair back as she stepped closer to the edge. She let her fingertips hover over the surface, feeling the rising warmth kiss her skin.

A quiet smile grew, bright and unguarded.

"This is going to be… a memory I'll keep forever."

Her gaze drifted toward the path behind them, a blush warming her cheeks again as she held her chosen bathing suit against her arm.

"And I… I'm ready whenever you are."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Arhiia Voronwe​

Aiden stood at the edge of the path, letting the soft hush of the forest and the faint murmur of running water fill the air around him. For a long moment, he didn't move, didn't need to. The way the light fell through the trees, scattering across the steam that curled from the springs, painted everything in gold and quiet blue. Naboo had a way of doing that: turning stillness into something sacred.

He had been here before, when his family first moved here. He remembered stumbling upon this place, and it was as if he fell into a dream. But now, standing here again, it felt entirely different. Because this time, she was here.

His gaze drifted toward her, watching the way she stood at the water's edge, the soft line of her shoulders, the sunlight catching in her hair, the steady rhythm of her cane marking her presence like the heartbeat of something that had survived the storm. She looked alive. Not just healed, but living.

He exhaled quietly, the breath leaving him like relief.

He noticed, how could he not? As she turned toward him, the faint pink on her cheeks deepening as she clutched the soft sapphire fabric of the bathing suit, his chest warmed with something between amusement and tenderness. Her courage always came in layers, the warrior's discipline, the quiet strength beneath, and beneath even that, this, the soft vulnerability.

He stepped closer, the gravel crunching softly under his boots, and let his gaze sweep the pools once more before resting back on her. The water glimmered like liquid glass, fed by streams trickling down from the rocks above. Small wildflowers clung to the edges, their petals trembling in the breeze. The air carried warmth from the springs, the scent of moss, stone, and faint sweetness from the forest beyond.

"It's beautiful," he said quietly, his voice low but certain. "More than I remembered. But then again…" He let the words trail off, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer, "I didn't have you here last time."

He moved toward one of the stone benches near the edge of the clearing, setting down the baskets she'd gathered from the market, fruit, bread, the bottle of blossom wine glinting in the light. Each item spoke of thoughtfulness, of care, of her. He knelt briefly to unpack them, his movements calm and deliberate. Every time he glanced toward her, the corners of his mouth threatened to lift again. He placed the last of the items down and straightened, brushing his palms against his trousers. "You outdid yourself," he murmured, glancing over the spread, sunlight catching on polished glass, the gentle sound of falling water filling the air. "A meal, a view, and amazing company…It couldn't get any better than this."

The sunlight caught his features as he stepped closer again, stopping just shy of her side. "You picked well," he said quietly, nodding to the fabric in her arm. "That color suits you, reminds me of the night sky over the Sanctuary. Calm. Bright. And just a little dangerous." He reached out, his fingertips brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, the gesture small, unhurried, intimate. His hand lingered near her cheek, not touching again, just close enough for her to feel the warmth there.

"I'll leave so you can change." he said softly, his tone steady but carrying a trace of warmth that betrayed the quiet amusement beneath. "The springs beyond that ridge are shallow, calm. Perfect for easing back into movement. Your body will thank you for it. And I'll be there wiht you."

He left to give her, privacy, as he glanced back over his shoulder then, catching her gaze again, steady, sure, full of that quiet promise he carried in everything he said. "You said you wanted a day you'd remember," he murmured. "Let's make it one."

Aiden exhaled slowly, the soft sigh of a man surrendering to peace for the first time in far too long. The air around the springs was warm, kissed with the faint scent of mineral and wildflowers. He unbuckled his belt with an unhurried precision, folding his tunic and trousers neatly beside the stone bench before straightening again, the Naboo breeze brushing cool across his bare skin.

Down to just his shorts, he stepped toward the edge of the pool. The warmth rising off the surface met the chill of the air, sending small eddies of mist curling around his legs. For a heartbeat, he simply stood there, eyes half-closed, listening to the sound of falling water, feeling the pulse of the Force thrumming gently through the springs like the planet's heartbeat itself.

Then, with a slow, controlled breath, he descended. The water embraced him in instant, soothing heat, wrapping around sore muscle and old scars alike. His body eased on instinct, tension he hadn't realized he still carried bleeding away into the depths.

He dipped lower until the water brushed his shoulders, his hand trailing through it absently, eyes lifting toward the canopy above where sunlight broke through in shifting gold fragments. For a long, quiet moment, Aiden let everything else fade, war, duty, worry, leaving only warmth, water, and the soft rhythm of life returning to calm.

"Force…" he murmured under his breath, almost to himself, a quiet awe in his tone. "I'd forgotten what stillness felt like."

 

[Arhiia Voronwe]

Tags: Aiden Porte
​

The sunlight spilled through the trees, catching the edges of Arhiia's blonde hair as she stepped into the clearing. Every movement was deliberate, careful, yet with a quiet confidence she hadn't felt in years. She set her clothes and cane aside, letting the warm light trace the line of her shoulders, the gentle swell of her chest, the soft curve of her waist, and the long, toned length of her legs. The modest swimsuit she had chosen clung just enough to suggest the shape beneath without daring to reveal too much, highlighting her blue eyes and the natural glow of her skin.

“Well…. Here goes nothing…” she said softly to herself.

She paused for a moment, letting the gravity of the moment settle over her. The water at the springs glimmered like liquid glass, reflecting sunlight across her bare arms and collarbone, and a shiver ran through her. Not from the cold, but from the anticipation, the delicious tension of being seen, fully, by him. Her pulse quickened. The feeling of wanting him so completely, without shame, both thrilled and unnerved her.

Step by careful step, she lowered herself toward the water, letting it lap against her ankles, then calves, feeling the heat of the springs contrast with the soft breeze. Each step revealed a little more of her curves as the water climbed, outlining the gentle swell of her hips, the subtle tension in her thighs, and the elegance of her posture. Her blue eyes never left him, locking onto his, and in that gaze lay everything she felt — awe, desire, trust, and the thrill of surrendering to the moment.

By the time the water reached just below her chest, she paused, drawing a deep, steadying breath. Her body, still healing, protested only slightly, but she ignored it, leaning into the warmth and the closeness. The fear of wanting him, so openly, sent a shiver through her — but it didn't shrink her. It made her sharper, more alive.

Then, slowly, she moved closer, each step a careful rhythm that drew her nearer to him. She let herself imagine the brush of their arms, the closeness of their bodies, the mingling of their breath. Her pulse raced, her cheeks flushed, but a small, almost daring smile curved her lips.

Finally, she reached him, and the water wrapped around them both, soft and yielding. She let herself lean into his chest, arms around him, the warmth of his body meeting hers. Their breath mingled, slow and shallow, as she rested her head near his shoulder. She felt the solid, quiet strength of him beneath her, the steady heartbeat that had carried her through so much, and allowed herself to melt just a little against him.

“I could get used to this you know…” she said with that slight mischievous curl of her lips, but her own cheeks betraying her as they flushed at the close proximity of their two bodies, a stark contrast to the water.

Fear lingered at the edge of her awareness, but it didn't control her. Instead, it sharpened every sensation: the feel of water sliding over her skin, the warmth of him, the light of the sun on her back, the curve of his arm around her. She let herself be wholly present, fully awake, fully herself — womanly, alive, and utterly drawn to him.

“So… tell me one thing you’ve never told anyone… and I might give you state secret intel myself.” She said with that subtle jab and poke she seemed so fond of doing when around each other — bit the truth? To her — there was still so much she didn’t know about him, so much she wanted to know about him.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Arhiia Voronwe​

Aiden turned his head slightly as she stepped into the light, and for a long, unguarded moment, he forgot how to breathe. The sunlight turned her into something unreal, all warmth and motion, gold and sapphire, every inch of her alive in a way that made the world itself seem to hush in reverence.

He didn't move when she descended into the water. Didn't speak. Just watched, the rhythm of her every step slowing the pulse that thundered in his chest. The surface rippled around her legs, the reflection of the sun sketching liquid fire along her skin. Every instinct in him warred between restraint and awe, between the discipline drilled into him by years of Jedi training and the simple, human ache of being utterly taken by her presence.

When she reached him, the water parting around her, Aiden finally drew a breath. The warmth of the spring mingled with the heat rising between them as she came close enough for him to feel her heartbeat echoing faintly through the water.

He met her gaze, clear, blue, alive, and for a moment he saw everything: the fire that kept her standing through pain, the laughter that never really left her eyes, the courage that still outshone the scars beneath the surface. When her arms came around him, he allowed himself the smallest exhale, the kind that wasn't just relief, but surrender. His hand found the small of her back, a steady, grounding touch, fingertips tracing idle circles there as if memorizing that she was real, that she was here.

Her voice, teasing and soft against his ear, made him huff a quiet laugh under his breath, low, genuine, warm. The vibration of it lingered between them, the sound carrying over the water like a secret.

"There was a time," he began, voice low and even, but with an undertone of something unspoken, "When I didn't think I'd come back."

He let the confession hang in the air, his gaze drifting briefly toward the water's surface where light fractured across it like pieces of memory. "Not recently," he clarified after a moment, his tone softening, "A few years ago, when things were much darker. When the Naboo Republic was just being formed, and I was lost between what I was supposed to be and what I was actually becoming."

The water lapped quietly against his skin as he continued. "There were days I stopped recognizing myself. I'd tell myself I was fine, that as long as I kept helping, kept fighting, I was still doing what was right."

He exhaled, the faintest trace of pain flickering across his face. "But I wasn't fine. I was…hollow. And there were nights I thought maybe I wouldn't make it back at all. Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't know who would be waiting if I did."

His eyes lifted again, meeting hers across the gentle shimmer of the water. "Fear does strange things to you when you're alone long enough. Makes you believe you're beyond being understood." He paused, searching her expression. "I think that's what I feared most, not dying, not failing, but being seen in that state. If you had known me then…I don't know what you would've thought of me."

Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the springs soak into him. The steady rhythm of her breathing against his chest was all he needed to feel grounded , the slow rise and fall, the quiet reminder that she was here, alive, real. He drew her closer, one arm settling around her back, the other hand trailing lazily through the surface of the water.

The sound of the waterfalls filled the quiet between them, a constant, peaceful whisper that seemed to match the calm in his chest. It was rare, this kind of stillness, rarer still to share it with someone who understood without words. He let himself breathe it in, the scent of her hair, the way her fingers occasionally brushed against his skin, soft and steady.

He turned his head slightly, his lips brushing close to her temple, his tone shifting into that teasing warmth she always drew out of him. "Though, if I'm confessing things…" He paused, pretending to think, though the grin pulling at his mouth betrayed him. "I should probably admit something far less dramatic than a Jedi secret."

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, the kind that softened the air between them. "I read more than I let people think," he confessed, the amusement clear in his voice. "Not just the tactical logs and mission reports, either. I mean everything. History, philosophy, the old Republic poets and stories" He glanced down at her then, eyes glinting with quiet humor. "Even a few of those ancient romance manuscripts that Jedi are absolutely not supposed to have time for."

He leaned back just slightly, giving her room to look up at him, his smirk deepening. "You'd be surprised how much you can learn from a Nabooan love poem if you read it between the lines."

The laughter lingered in his voice, but beneath it was something gentler, the truth of how much this moment meant to him. He brushed his fingers along her arm, letting the motion speak where words fell short. "But I think," he added, softer now, "No story I've ever read compares to this. To right now."

The wind carried the faint scent of blossoms from the forest above, mingling with the steam of the springs. Aiden tilted his head back slightly, breathing in, his voice a quiet murmur meant only for her. "I've spent years searching for peace in books, in training, in duty…and somehow it's right here. In the water. In you."

He pressed a soft kiss to her hair, his words almost a whisper. "Your turn?"