Private Light Serenity

[Aiden Porte]

Naboo
Theed Gardens
Tag: Runa Trozky

The public gardens of Naboo were alive with gentle sound: fountains spilling into crystalline basins, songbirds trilling between flowering branches, and the soft chatter of citizens drifting along vine-wrapped paths. Sunlight filtered through canopies of green, dancing across polished marble benches and reflecting on the lily-strewn ponds. It was a place for civilians and Jedi alike to come and enjoy the view and focus on themselves.

At the heart of it all, seated upon a low stone platform beneath an old ancient tree, rested a Jedi Knight. His posture at ease as he sat cross legged, his cloak lightly shifted faintly in the breeze. Hands folded upon his knees, his breathing was measured, steady, each inhale and exhale threading into the rhythm of the gardens themselves. The curve of his saber hilt lay at his side, untouched, as much a part of him as the serenity he projected.

Though eyes remained closed, his awareness reached outward, interwoven with the life around him. He felt the whisper of insects stirring in the grass, the quiet patience of roots deep in the soil, the passing joy and weariness of those who strolled nearby. In this place, there was no divide between Knight and world, only harmony, quiet and profound.

Passersby slowed in their steps, hushed by his presence, sensing without knowing that peace radiated from him like sunlight. To the Naboo, and the High Republic, the Jedi had always been guardians, but here he was not warrior, nor diplomat. He was just a still point of calm amid the ever-turning current of the galaxy.

 

[Runa Trozky]

TAG: Aiden Porte
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber (Amethyst Blade)

​

Theed was alive with color and calm that day, with sunlight spilling across the streets. She carried herself without haste, savoring the way the air moved gently through the city, warm and fragrant with life. Each step was unhurried, her stride more a quiet wander than a purposeful march, as though she had all the time in the galaxy to admire Naboo's beauty.

Rows of Queen's Heart flowers lined the paths, their bright blossoms arching gracefully over the stonework. Their colors were rich, almost too vivid to be real, like something painted onto the world. She leaned closer to one as she passed, drawing in its delicate fragrance. The scent was light and sweet, carrying with it a sense of grounding, a reminder to breathe deeply and be present. That small indulgence wrapped her in a fragile spell of joy, as fleeting as it was precious, before she moved on.

Her destination was familiar, the tree she often sought in the gardens, its shade a refuge from the bustle of the city. There she would sometimes sit for hours, letting the sounds of water and birdsong guide her thoughts into calm. It was a place she had come to treasure, not just for what it offered in grandeur, but for the simplicity of its stillness.

But when the tree came into view, she paused. The spot was no longer hers alone. Someone was already seated beneath the branches, legs folded in meditation, posture perfectly at ease. He seemed quite untouched by the world around him, lost within the current of the Force.

How curious...

She hesitated at first, considering whether to speak. A greeting hovered on her lips, but she did not voice it. To intrude upon such serenity felt wrong, like casting a ripple across still water. Words, even kind ones, seemed clumsy in the face of such quiet.

So instead, she turned to one of the marble benches nearby and settled into it. The stone was cool against her palms as she rested her hands upon it, her body relaxing into the seat. For a while, she allowed herself only to watch.

The sight was captivating. The steady breath, the complete surrender to stillness—there was something profoundly beautiful about it. She found herself wishing for parchment and a pencil, some way to sketch the lines of the moment before it faded into memory. The gardens themselves seemed to conspire in the scene: the soft rustle of leaves, the play of sunlight through branches, the hush of the fountain nearby.

She let her eyes linger, not with impatience, but with quiet appreciation. If nothing else, watching another surrender to such calm was its own kind of meditation. And so she remained, content to simply be, sharing in the silence without ever breaking it.

 

[Aiden Porte]

And yet, even in stillness, he was not alone.

He felt her before he heard the soft shift of fabric on stone. A presence, warm and attentive, settling just beyond the tree's roots. Not intrusive, not probing, simply there. Her emotions flickered like light through colored glass: curiosity muted by restraint, appreciation edged with a kind of reverence. She did not speak, though words had been tempted to form. That, more than anything, held his respect.

Without opening his eyes, he allowed his awareness to widen, extending the current of his meditation to meet her own quietude. He did not force it, only invited. like offering space on a path, or lowering a lantern into the dark so another might walk beside it.

The gardens shifted with that subtle joining. The breeze carried the scent of Heart blossoms across the shade, the fountain's cadence softened, even the songbirds seemed to linger nearer. For Aiden, there was no boundary between his silence and hers. Two souls resting in the same stillness, bound not by speech but by the shared act of being.

In time, he drew in a longer breath, slow and steady. His eyes opened. The sunlight spilled through the canopy, silvering his gaze as it found her seated on the marble bench. He let a faint smile curve, quiet and genuine, a wordless acknowledgment that her presence was welcome, and that her decision not to disturb had been seen, and honored.

"Greetings, Would you care to join me?" The Jedi Knight spoke in a soft and humble tone, as he showed a smile.

Runa Trozky

 

[Runa Trozky]

TAG: Aiden Porte
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber (Amethyst Blade)

​

She didn’t rise from the bench immediately. Instead, she let his invitation hang in the air, thoughtful eyes tracing the lines of his posture, the calm that seemed to radiate outward from him like ripples across still water.

A small smile touched her lips. “Tempting,” she admitted softly, “but, I really came by for some quiet contemplation, in the company of this tree.”

She shifted slightly, turning on the marble seat so she faced him more directly. There was no hesitation in her tone, only an honesty edged with quiet amusement. “Besides, watching someone else so fully at ease… that has its own kind of peace.”

Her smile lingered, faint but genuine. “I have though, been here to this very spot, many times, to ponder, or like you. To meditate”

She leaned forward a fraction, resting her forearms lightly on her knees. “Even at night. Under Naboo’s moons. And here, watching you, it feels… peaceful, soothing...”

Her hazel eyes softened as she studied him, the curiosity clear in her gaze. “I may take your offer, but I am wondering. ...Whats your name??”

 

[Aiden Porte]

Aiden's smile deepened, the quiet ease of it reaching his eyes as he turned his head slightly toward her. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, dappling the space between them with shifting patterns, as though the garden itself wished to be part of the exchange.

"You've chosen well," he said at last, voice low, threaded with the same calm he carried in stillness. "This tree has listened to more meditations than either of us could count. Its roots have been keeping company with Jedi longer than I have drawn breath."

He let his gaze rest on her without pressing, open and patient. Her words carried truth, not flattery, and he honored that with the simple gift of attention.


When she asked her question, the corners of his mouth curved again, warmer this time. "Aiden Porte," he offered. The syllables hung between them like a stone placed into a still pool, small, but carrying ripples outward. "Knight of the Jedi Order. Though, in moments like these, I prefer simply… Aiden."

His head inclined just slightly, acknowledging her curiosity, but also her restraint. "And what of you? You seem no stranger to stillness. The gardens speak fondly of those who linger often beneath their branches."

Runa Trozky

 

[Runa Trozky]

Her brow arched slightly, the faintest gesture of thought as she weighed his words about the old tree and its long company with Jedi past. She let her gaze drift upward, tracing the branches where sunlight wove itself through green, dappling the earth like fragments of memory.

“I suppose you’re right, it has…” she murmured at last, her voice carrying the quiet cadence of reflection. Her hazel eyes lingered on the canopy above. “There’s a particular aura… a peace and serenity that surrounds this tree, I suppose.”

She let the silence breathe before her focus returned to him, steady and unhurried. “Though it’s the first time I’ve seen you here,” she said, studying him as though committing the moment to memory. “I am quite sure if I had in recent memory, I would have remembered you. You do seem to leave quite the agreeable impression.”

A subtle smile swayed at the edge of her lips, a warmth held in check yet unmistakable. When he offered his name, her eyes brightened, catching the light with an answering spark.

“Charmed…” she said softly, the word slipping into the stillness with an almost deliberate grace, as though she were testing the weight of it before allowing it to settle between them.

Her gaze lowered briefly, then rose again to meet his with quiet assurance. “Runa Trozky.” She let the introduction find its place in the air before adding, with a nod, “Also a Knight of the Jedi Order. You can call me Runa.”

Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aiden Porte | Equipment: Lightsaber (Amethyst Blade)
​

 

[Aiden Porte]

Aiden inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgment, though it was tempered with something gentler than formality. Her name found its place within him easily, like a familiar note settling into the harmony of the gardens.

"Runa," he repeated, the syllables quiet on his tongue, as if speaking them anchored her presence more fully into the moment. His gaze lingered on her with the steadiness of one who saw beyond surfaces, the Force had already whispered the truth of her composure, her curiosity, the ease with which she wore silence.

"I had not expected to meet another Jedi here," he admitted, voice touched with a softness that carried no reproach. "And yet it feels… fitting. Perhaps the tree wished for company beyond my own." His hand rested lightly against his knee, fingers brushing the fabric of his robe, an unconscious echo of the calm he kept.

For a moment, his eyes drifted upward, following hers toward the lattice of branches where sunlight filtered like threads of gold. The peace there was undeniable, an old serenity rooted deeper than memory. When he looked back to her, his smile returned, faint and warm.

"Then we share more than stillness, Runa." A brief pause followed, his words settling like stones into the quiet. "It seems only natural our paths would cross here."

He let the silence breathe again, not out of hesitation, but out of respect for the calm she cherished. When he spoke once more, it was with the openness of one offering both acknowledgment and invitation.

"Would you care to join me? The tree has listened to many meditations… I think it will welcome another."

Runa Trozky

 

[Runa Trozky]

Runa let the sound of her name linger in the quiet between them, carried on his voice with a weight that seemed more thoughtful than casual. She regarded him in turn, her expression calm, yet touched by a flicker of curiosity that softened the otherwise steady lines of a Jedi Knight.

“It does seem this tree has a gift for weaving unlikely threads together,” she said, a trace of warmth threading through her otherwise measured tone. “Though I must confess I did not expect to meet you here either, perhaps that is reason enough not to dismiss it.”

Her gaze followed the dappled light through the branches for a moment longer before she lowered herself gracefully beside him, settling with the practiced ease of one who had meditated in many such places but still found each space unique.

“The Order teaches us to listen,” she added quietly, “to what the Force reveals in silence as much as in action. If the tree has listened so long, I suspect it knows truths even we may overlook.”

She turned slightly then, meeting his eyes with a look that carried both calm composure and the hint of something unspoken.

“Then I shall. Stillness is always stronger when it is not kept alone.”

She let the words linger between them.

“So I would be honored to join you. The garden seems to welcome it.”

Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aiden Porte | Equipment: Lightsaber (Amethyst Blade)
​

 

[Aiden Porte]

Aiden shifted slightly to make space beneath the great trees shade, his movement unhurried, almost ritual in its simplicity. The quiet affirmation of her presence felt less like an intrusion and more like the completion of something the Force had already begun to weave.

When she settled beside him, he drew in a measured breath, letting the scents of blossoms, moss, and sun-warmed stone fold into his lungs. "Then let us listen." he said, the words little more than a murmur, yet carrying the calm conviction of a promise.

Closing his eyes once more, he allowed his awareness to unfurl outward. The garden breathed with them, the rustle of leaves became the rhythm of their exhalations, the gentle hush of the fountain aligned with the stillness between heartbeats. And through it all, he felt her presence, distinct yet harmonious, like another instrument joining a melody already in motion.

He did not seek to guide her meditation, nor to test it. Instead, he left space, an open field in the current of the Force where her stillness and his could mingle freely. The tree's roots, old and patient, seemed to anchor them both, while its canopy sifted the sunlight as if to shield this moment from the rest of the galaxy.

After a long silence, Aiden spoke again, his voice low, steady, as though woven into the very calm they shared. "You're right. Stillness grows stronger when shared. Even the Force, vast as it is, speaks most clearly when we choose to listen together."

Runa Trozky

 

[Runa Trozky]

Her gaze lingered on him; soft, bright, quietly contemplative. There was something measured in the way Aiden shifted to make space, not hurried, not careless, but intentional; as if even the smallest gesture held its place in the moment.

Rising from the marble bench with unhurried grace, she crossed the short distance and lowered herself into the place he had left for her. Settling cross-legged, she adjusted her robes with a faint rustle, the movement deliberate but unselfconscious.

Runa let her gaze follow the sway of branches above them as though the tree itself breathed in time with their silence. She did not force her breath to match Aiden’s, and yet soon it had, falling into the same rhythm.

Then she closed her eyes.

The Force greeted her with familiar constancy, but it was not alone. His presence lingered there as well; peaceful, steady, and safe within the quiet they now shared.

When he spoke again, her lips curved faintly. “Perhaps that is why meditation so often feels different in company,” she murmured, voice carrying the hush of reflection rather than debate. “Alone, the stillness is ours alone to tend. Together, it seems to stretch further… like a horizon one cannot see the end of.”

Her eyes shifted to him, studying his calm profile for a beat longer than was needed before she turned them forward again. “Though I admit,” she added lightly, almost playful in its restraint, “I had not expected to share that horizon beneath this tree.”

Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aiden Porte | Equipment: Lightsaber (Amethyst Blade)
​

 

[Aiden Porte]

Aiden let her words move through the quiet like ripples over still water. He did not answer at once, choosing instead to breathe with her, to let the truth of what she said take root in the silence they shared. When at last he opened his eyes, he turned them toward her, not with scrutiny, but with the soft steadiness of someone who had learned the value of simply seeing.

"The horizon is always wider than we expect," he replied, his tone thoughtful, threaded with a gentle humor. "Even for those who spend their lives seeking to know it." His gaze lingered upward then, tracing the sunlit canopy where the branches seemed to lean protectively over them. "Perhaps that is why the Force favors moments such as these, so it may remind us that not every truth is found in solitude."

His voice quieted, his words falling into the hush of the fountain nearby. "And I admit," he added, echoing her candor with a faint smile, "when I came here today, I had not expected to share either. Yet…" His eyes returned to her, calm and open. "…the tree seems to know better than both of us."

For a time, he left it there, letting the garden carry the weight of silence again. The sense of shared stillness, of something unhurried and genuine, settled deeper with each breath.

Runa Trozky

 

[Runa Trozky]

She did not answer at once. Breath slowed, falling into the rhythm of his voice, the fountain, the subtle sway of branches overhead. Words lingered within, settling like stones cast into still water, their ripples threading through thought and presence.

Her eyes remained closed, yet she felt the canopy above; light fractured against leaves, scattering patterns she did not see but sensed, a shifting warmth that brushed across marble and robe. Fingers pressed lightly into her lap, grounding the moment as silence stretched between them, not empty but full; woven of his steadiness, the garden's pulse, the Force humming beneath both.

“Perhaps the tree knows more than we give it credit for,” she said at last, her voice tinged with quiet amusement. “It has stood long enough to show what we sometimes lose sight of. That the horizon is not beyond reach, only hidden from unseeing eyes.”

Her lips parted faintly, breath leaving slower than it came, words folding back into silence. Eyes lingered on him, steady, unreadable for a moment longer, before turning outward again to the expanse of garden and sky.

The shared stillness deepened, not passive but very alive, carrying weight in the way air pressed against skin, in the measured rhythm of breath drawn together. Presence settled into that horizon, unhurried, infinite, carried in the quiet recognition of what had already been found.

Then her eyes opened...

Thoughtfully, she turned to him, touched by the quiet honesty in his words. For a moment longer, she let the silence hold them, the nearby fountain's peaceful cadence of falling water filling the spaces between breath. Then she rose, smoothing the folds of her robe as if gathering the moment into motion.

“The garden has given us stillness,” her eyes lifting to the canopy where light sifted down in warm fragments. “Perhaps it would grant us clarity, too; if we carried this with us beyond the shade.”

She turned back to him, a faint curve at the corner of her lips, neither urging nor insistent. “Would you care to walk with me? The path winds toward the western part of the gardens. I think the horizon we speak of waits there.”

Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aiden Porte | Equipment: Lightsaber (Amethyst Blade)
​

 

[Aiden Porte]

Aiden rose with her, the movement unhurried, as if standing were simply another way of honoring the stillness they'd shared. He inclined his head, a quiet smile warming his features. "I'd be honored," he said, the words settling easily between them. "The garden has already done the hard part."

He fell into step at her side, letting the path decide their pace. Pebbled stone gave beneath their boots with a soft grit; beyond the hedges, water flashed like bright thread where channels fed the ponds. Queen's Heart blossoms arched over the walkway, casting rosy shadows over sunlit marble. Somewhere deeper in the grounds, a bell in Theed struck the hour, clear, unhurried, its echo slipping along the colonnades like a blessing.

The Force kept close, not a mantle so much as a companionable presence an unbroken current that had learned their tempo and chose to match it. A breeze combed through the tree leaves, sending a single petal skimming ahead; Aiden watched it drift and smiled, resisting the reflex to guide it with the Force. Some truths did not need help to find their way.

"Clarity rarely comes when chased." he said after a time, voice low, thoughtful. "But it has a habit of keeping pace with those who walk lightly." He glanced to Runa, the look steady rather than searching. "When you come to this tree, what do you ask it to listen for?"

They turned toward the western terraces. The path unfurled to a broader view, gardens stepping down in green ribbons, the Solleu's glint beyond, sky widening in a soft arc as if the world itself took a long breath. Aiden slowed, letting the horizon present itself on its own terms. He felt the shape of the moment settle: two Jedi, a shared quiet, the promise that whatever answer came would belong to both the garden and the road ahead.

He met her gaze again, open, patient. "If the horizon waits there," he said gently, "we'll know it by the way the air changes when we arrive." He nodded toward the sweep of lawns and light. "Lead on, Runa. I will listen."

Runa Trozky