Private Quiet Galleries

[Meri Vale]

The exhibition had been advertised across several universities as a collaborative project between local artists, historians, and the museum itself. Admission was free for students, an arrangement Meri suspected existed solely because it was considerably easier to convince students to visit museums voluntarily if they did not have to pay first.

She had come expecting paintings. Instead she found history.

The exhibition, titled Cities Remember, occupied several galleries devoted to architecture, landscapes, and historical reconstruction. Ancient temples stood beside modern skylines, carefully researched recreations hung beside imaginative interpretations, while recovered fragments of masonry, decorative carvings, and architectural drawings accompanied many of the works. It was less an art exhibition than a conversation between artists and historians, each attempting to reconstruct places that no longer existed in quite the same form.

Meri moved slowly from one display to the next, lingering far longer than most visitors. She rarely looked only at the painting itself. Instead, her attention drifted toward the accompanying notes, restoration sketches, excavation photographs, and architectural references. Every so often the corner of her mouth would twitch as she quietly approved of a particularly careful reconstruction or mentally corrected one that had taken an understandable artistic liberty.

Eventually she stopped before a large painting depicting one of Bastion's older districts before decades of conflict had scarred it. It was beautifully rendered, the afternoon light spilling across weathered stone and narrow streets with remarkable warmth. For several quiet moments she simply admired it before tilting her head ever so slightly.

"The masonry on the western façade is from a later restoration..." she murmured almost to herself, more thoughtful than critical. "...but the light is exactly how it would have looked."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon had not come because he was a university student. He had come because wherever people gathered to preserve beauty, he almost always found himself wandering in eventually. The exhibition felt less like a museum and more like stepping through someone's memory. Every gallery offered another place rescued from oblivion, if only in pigment and stone. Solon moved at an unhurried pace, sketchbook tucked beneath one arm though he had yet to open it. Instead he simply looked.

He gave every display its due, lingering before each long enough to appreciate the choices the artist had made, but the pieces that held him longest were not necessarily the most technically impressive. They were the ones willing to indulge in a little imagination—reconstructed gardens whose flowers might never have bloomed quite that way, idealized skylines touched by sunsets perhaps brighter than history remembered, or architectural studies that hinted at what a ruined archway might once have become. They reminded him that memory was not only preservation. Sometimes it was hope.

The large painting of Bastion drew him next. He studied the warm stonework, the narrow streets, and the cascade of afternoon light spilling between the buildings. Before long another voice, quiet and thoughtful, reached him.

"The masonry on the western façade is from a later restoration... but the light is exactly how it would have looked."

Solon glanced toward the young woman standing nearby before returning his eyes to the canvas. "I think you're right." His tone carried no certainty, only quiet admiration.

"I wouldn't have noticed the masonry at all." A faint, self-conscious smile tugged at his lips. "Architecture has always been... adjacent to my interests."

His lavender eyes drifted back across the painting. "But the light..." He paused, searching for words worthy of the image before him. "...it feels remembered instead of invented."

He tilted his head ever so slightly. "The buildings tell you where you are." His gaze lingered on the glow washing over the weathered stone. "The sunlight tells you what it was like to be there."

Solon let the silence settle for a moment, reluctant to disturb either the painting or the stranger's contemplation. "I suppose that's the part that reaches me most," he admitted softly. "Even if every stone were perfectly accurate, without that warmth it would only be a record. This..." His eyes remained fixed on the canvas. "...this feels like someone missing a place."

 

[Meri Vale]

For a few moments Meri simply studied the painting again, this time following the path of the sunlight rather than the stonework. It was curious how quickly his observation had shifted her attention. She still noticed the later masonry, the slightly altered proportions of one corner building, the liberties the artist had taken with a decorative cornice. Yet now those details seemed almost secondary to the warmth spilling between the narrow streets.

"I don't think I've ever thought about it that way," she admitted after a thoughtful silence. "When I look at something like this, I'm usually trying to determine whether it could have existed. Whether the construction techniques are consistent, whether the restoration is plausible..." She paused, considering the painting with renewed curiosity. "You're asking a different question."

Only then did she glance toward him properly, noticing the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm. The observation immediately answered several questions she had not yet asked. "You see the experience before the evidence," she said, not as criticism but as quiet realization. "I suppose that's why you noticed the light before the buildings."

Her gray eyes returned to the canvas. "History spends a great deal of time trying to establish what happened." A faint smile appeared. "Art seems more interested in asking what it felt like." She let the thought settle for a moment before adding, with the slightest trace of dry humor, "I suspect the two disciplines would argue with one another endlessly if they were people."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon's cheeks warmed ever so slightly at her admission. A shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he looked back toward the painting, grateful for the excuse not to maintain eye contact for too long. "I... suppose I have a habit of doing that." His fingers shifted unconsciously against the edge of the sketchbook beneath his arm. "I almost always ignore the practical in favor of the idealistic." There was no pride in the confession—only quiet acceptance, as though it were both a strength and a flaw he had long since stopped trying to separate.

When she spoke of history and art arguing endlessly, a soft laugh escaped him. "I think they probably would." His lavender eyes lingered on the warm glow painted across the city before continuing. "But I also think they'd be forever partners." He glanced toward her again, finding it a little easier this time.

"History gives art something real to build upon. Without it..." he gestured lightly toward the canvas, "...beauty risks becoming untethered." His gaze drifted back to the weathered streets captured in paint.

"And history, without someone willing to dream a little..." A thoughtful pause settled between them. "It would become rather bland. We'd know what happened, but perhaps never understand why anyone loved those places enough to remember them."

He smiled faintly. "I think idealism keeps history alive. It reminds us that these weren't simply collections of stone and measurements. They were homes. Streets people wandered. Windows someone looked through every morning."

Only after the thought had settled did he realize they had been speaking for several minutes without introductions. His ears reddened ever so slightly. "Oh—I'm sorry." He offered a small, almost embarrassed smile. "I'm Solon. Solon Rey."

He gave a polite incline of his head, the manners of an old Core upbringing surfacing as naturally as breathing. "It's nice to meet someone who notices details I'd never even thought to look for."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri found herself smiling, small but genuine, as Solon described history and art as partners rather than rivals. It was not an argument she had encountered before, yet the more she considered it, the more it settled comfortably into place. She had spent years learning how civilizations were built, expanded, and eventually forgotten. Rarely had she stopped to consider why those places continued to matter after the people themselves were gone. His answer did not contradict her own understanding. It completed a part of it she had never realized was missing.

"I think you're right," she said thoughtfully, turning back toward the painting. "Archaeology spends a great deal of effort trying to reconstruct the physical world. We measure walls, catalog foundations, compare construction techniques..." A faint smile touched her lips. "But none of those things explain why someone chose to sit beneath a particular window every evening, or why a street became someone's favorite route home. The evidence tells us what survived. It rarely tells us what was loved."

When Solon apologized for forgetting introductions, she let out the quietest hint of a laugh. "I was beginning to think we might spend the entire afternoon discussing the painting without ever learning each other's names." She offered him a polite smile that carried none of the practiced formality of diplomacy, only quiet sincerity. "I'm Meri. Meri Vale. It's nice to meet you, Solon."

Her eyes drifted briefly to the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm before returning to him. She continued with gentle honesty, "I don't think noticing different details is a disadvantage. If everyone observed the same things, we'd only ever ask the same questions." She glanced back toward the painting once more, the warm afternoon light seeming subtly different now than it had only a few minutes earlier. "I probably would have walked away still thinking about the masonry." The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "Now I'll probably remember the sunlight too."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

A quiet laugh escaped Solon before he could stop it. "So the archaeologist becomes the philosopher." The words left his mouth lightly, almost teasing, before his expression shifted to mild alarm.

"I... um..." His ears colored a noticeable pink. "I'm sorry—I assumed archaeology because of what you said about reconstruction and masonry. If I've completely misread that, please pretend I didn't." He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before letting his hand fall away.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Meri." There was an easy sincerity to the words. It was nice, he realized, to speak with someone who could appreciate beauty from such a different perspective without dismissing his own.

When she spoke of asking different questions, Solon nodded enthusiastically. "I couldn't agree more." His gaze wandered briefly around the gallery, where visitors drifted from piece to piece at their own pace. "If everyone thought alike..." A faint grin crossed his face. "...it would make for a terribly boring galaxy." His tone carried just enough playfulness to soften the observation. "There'd be no surprises. No one to point out the things we'd overlooked."

He looked back toward the painting one last time before turning to Meri. "How much of the exhibition have you seen already?" His fingers tapped lightly against the spine of the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm. "And..." He hesitated for only a heartbeat, smiling with quiet hope. "If you don't mind the company, perhaps I could return the favor."

He gestured toward the adjoining galleries. "You can continue teaching me how buildings tell their stories..." A faint sparkle appeared in his amethyst eyes. "...and I'll see if I can convince you that every painting has its own sunlight waiting to be noticed."

 

[Meri Vale]

The alarm that spread across Solon's face caught Meri completely by surprise. For a heartbeat, she simply stared at him before a soft laugh escaped her, warm enough to dissolve any awkwardness before it had the chance to settle. "No, you didn't misread anything," she assured him, still smiling. "I'm studying archaeology at the Academy on Naboo." A hint of amusement lingered in her gray eyes. "Though I don't think anyone has ever called me a philosopher before. I'm fairly certain my professors would insist I'm simply asking too many questions."

She looked back toward the painting, considering everything they had discussed over the past several minutes. It struck her that, despite approaching the same canvas from entirely different directions, they had somehow arrived at the same place. She had begun by examining the structure beneath the image while he had begun with the feeling it inspired, yet neither perspective had diminished the other. Instead they had quietly woven together into something richer. It was...pleasant. Unexpectedly so.

"It would be a terribly boring galaxy," she agreed, her smile widening just enough to betray how much she enjoyed the thought. "Imagine an excavation where everyone noticed the same broken wall, or a gallery where everyone admired the exact same brushstroke. We'd stop discovering things about the world..." Her gaze drifted toward the visitors wandering between displays before returning to Solon. "...and probably stop discovering things about each other, too."

His invitation drew her attention back to the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm, then to the hopeful expression he wore. There was something wonderfully earnest about it, free of expectation, offered simply because he thought they might enjoy seeing the rest of the exhibition together. Meri found herself smiling before she had consciously decided to. "I'd like that." She stepped away from the painting at an unhurried pace, glancing toward the adjoining gallery. "Although I should warn you..." There was the faintest glimmer of mischief in her voice now. "If I start talking about construction methods, you'll have to stop me before I accidentally turn the exhibition into a lecture." Looking back at him, she tipped her head ever so slightly. "And in return, you have my permission to point out every bit of sunlight I would have walked straight past."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

The tension that had crept into Solon's shoulders melted away with Meri's laugh. He let out a small sigh of relief, a sheepish smile following close behind. "I'm glad I wasn't completely inventing a profession for you." His expression brightened. "Though perhaps archaeologists and philosophers aren't all that far apart."

He considered the thought for a moment. "I've always imagined philosophy is mostly asking questions that very few people in the galaxy are actually capable of answering." There was no teasing in the statement now, only quiet admiration.

As Meri turned her attention back to the painting, Solon found himself watching not the artwork, but the subtle change in her expression. It fascinated him to see someone genuinely reconsidering something they had already examined so carefully. She wasn't abandoning what she knew; she was simply making room for another way of seeing. It was... refreshing.

He had met more than a few students over the past year who treated their discipline like a fortress, every conclusion carefully defended against anything that threatened to complicate it. Meri seemed to do the opposite. She welcomed complication.

When she remarked that people would stop discovering things about one another, Solon gave an approving nod. "I think that's already a little true."

His smile softened. "It's a sorry thing when people become so convinced their own perspective is the only correct one that they stop listening altogether." His lavender eyes wandered briefly around the gallery. "The galaxy is far too large for any one person to see all of it."

The warmth returned immediately when she accepted his invitation. "It'll be nice having someone to walk through it with." As Meri began her warning, Solon's hopeful smile faltered. His brows lifted ever so slightly. A warning?

For one dreadful heartbeat his imagination leapt to all manner of terrible possibilities. Perhaps she disliked crowds. Perhaps she intended to scrutinize every display for hours. Perhaps—"If I start talking about construction methods..."

His worry vanished so quickly it left behind only an amused laugh. A light giggle escaped him. "Oh." He smiled, shaking his head. "I don't think that'll send me running."

He adjusted the sketchbook beneath his arm as they began toward the next gallery. "Structure isn't foreign to artists." His fingers rested thoughtfully along the worn cover. "I sketch, but I also write poetry... and compose music when inspiration is kind enough to visit."

His smile became almost bashful. "All three need structure before they can become anything meaningful. Rhythm. Meter. Composition. Perspective." He gave a small shrug. "Even the most emotional piece usually rests on a very practical foundation."

He glanced toward her. "So if you begin explaining why a particular arch could support a roof for centuries, or why an entire district was planned the way it was..." Another quiet laugh. "I promise I won't flee."

His violet eyes drifted toward the next display waiting beyond the doorway. "And if I notice you becoming a little too absorbed in the engineering..." He smiled warmly. "...I'll simply point out whatever feeling I think the artist was trying to preserve."

There was a gentle confidence in the offer now. "Between the two of us, perhaps we'll manage to see the whole picture."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri listened with quiet attention as Solon spoke, finding herself increasingly intrigued by the ease with which he moved between different forms of art. Sketching had made sense the moment she'd noticed the well-used book tucked beneath his arm, but poetry and music had come as a surprise. She had always thought of them as separate pursuits, each requiring years of devotion on their own. To hear him speak of them as though they naturally belonged together made her wonder if artists viewed creativity the same way archaeologists viewed history, not as isolated subjects, but as different pieces of the same story.

"I never really thought about it that way," she admitted as they wandered into the next gallery. Her eyes lingered briefly on a sculpture before returning to him. "I suppose every discipline has its framework. An excavation has methodology. History has chronology. I just...never considered that music and poetry have an architecture of their own." She smiled thoughtfully. "It makes sense, though. If they didn't, they'd probably feel as though they were missing something, even if you couldn't explain exactly what."

His promise not to run at the mention of engineering earned another quiet laugh. "That's reassuring. Most people politely endure about five minutes before their eyes start searching for the nearest exit." She folded her hands behind her back as they slowed before another display, her gaze moving naturally across its details before lingering on the accompanying placard. "I should probably return the warning, then. If you start explaining rhythm and composition, I'll almost certainly ask enough questions to make you regret bringing them up." There was no apology in her voice, only the easy honesty of someone who knew curiosity was simply part of who she was.

She grew quiet for a moment, considering his final thought before looking back toward him with a gentle smile. "I think I'd like that." The words escaped before she had time to overthink them. She glanced toward the next painting, feeling unexpectedly at ease walking beside someone who seemed just as interested in learning as he was in teaching. "Not because I think either of us will see the whole picture," she amended softly. "I'm not sure anyone can." Her eyes settled on the painting ahead, already wondering what he would notice before she did. "But I think we'll both leave having seen more than we would have alone."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon listened with the quiet attentiveness that seemed to come naturally to him, his smile never quite leaving as Meri drew parallels between music, poetry, and archaeology. He gave a thoughtful nod. "I think that's exactly it." His gaze wandered over the next display without yet truly seeing it, his mind still lingering on the conversation.

"Some artists would probably disagree with me." A soft chuckle escaped him. "There are those who say certain kinds of music or painting have no structure at all—that they're simply expressions of pure inspiration." He tilted his head ever so slightly.

"But even then..." His fingers brushed absentmindedly over the cover of his sketchbook. "...a painting begins with a canvas, charcoal, pigment, or stone. Music begins with an instrument, or perhaps a voice... sometimes several woven together." A thoughtful warmth entered his expression. "The soul of the creator may carry the work anywhere it wishes, but those choices have already created a foundation. Even freedom starts somewhere."

He glanced toward her, pleased to see she genuinely seemed interested in the idea. Her next remark drew another quiet laugh from him. "Only five minutes?" He smiled sympathetically. "I don't think you'll have that problem with me." His voice held easy confidence—not arrogance, simply certainty. "I tend to find art in just about everything."

His eyes drifted across the carved frame surrounding the next painting. "There really isn't much chance of you boring me." When Meri warned that she'd ask endless questions about rhythm and composition, Solon laughed again, the sound light and genuine. "I should hope so."

He looked at her with quiet sincerity. "Without questions, we'd learn very little." A brief pause. "Not just about the artwork..." His smile softened. "...about each other, too."

The admission came naturally, almost before he'd realized he intended to say it. "I'm rather hoping that's what today becomes." He gestured lightly around the gallery. "Learning about the exhibition..." His lavender eyes met hers for a brief moment. "...and getting to know you while we do."

There was no pressure behind the words, only earnestness.

When she spoke of neither of them ever seeing the entire picture, Solon nodded in agreement. "I think I'd be disappointed if I ever understood a work of art completely." He turned his attention at last toward the painting before them. "There should always be something left unsaid."

His eyes traveled slowly across the composition. The piece depicted a broad public square at dawn, the first light spilling over towering facades while only a handful of figures crossed its expansive stones. The architecture dominated the canvas, imposing and meticulously rendered, yet the people were painted almost as afterthoughts. Solon stood quietly for several moments. Then he smiled.

"The first thing I notice..." He raised a hand, indicating one of the small figures near the edge of the square. "...is that everyone looks as though they're walking away from the sunrise." His head tilted thoughtfully.

"It makes the city feel grand..." A faint melancholy entered his voice. "...but it also makes it feel lonely." His eyes lingered on the tiny silhouettes. "It's beautiful, but no one seems to have stopped to enjoy the morning." He smiled to himself. "I wonder if the artist meant that... or if it's simply what I wanted to find."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri listened quietly, finding herself smiling more with every passing moment. There was something wonderfully reassuring about the way Solon spoke. He never dismissed another perspective, even when he offered one of his own. Instead, he seemed to gather ideas together, fitting them alongside one another until they formed something larger.

"I like that," she said softly. "That even freedom has a foundation."

Her eyes drifted to the sketchbook beneath his fingers before returning to the paintings surrounding them.

"I suppose archaeology is the same." A thoughtful smile touched her lips. "People sometimes imagine we're searching for answers, but really we're searching for enough pieces to ask better questions."

His hope that today would become a chance to learn about one another warmed her more than she expected. It was such an uncomplicated thing to say, free of expectation or pretense. She met his lavender eyes for a brief moment before a faint blush encouraged her attention back toward the painting.

"I...I'd like that too."

The artwork drew her in as she let herself stand in silence beside him. She followed the lines of the buildings first, tracing the careful geometry that seemed almost impossibly precise before her gaze finally settled upon the tiny figures scattered throughout the square.

She smiled when he pointed out that they were all walking away from the sunrise.

"I don't think I would've noticed that." There was admiration rather than embarrassment in her voice. "I was too distracted by the buildings."

Her eyes lingered on the towering facades.

"The artist spent so much time making them feel permanent." She paused, considering the contrast. "The people almost disappear beside them."

She folded her hands loosely in front of herself.

"It's funny..." she murmured. "You saw loneliness." Her gaze remained on the canvas. "I think I saw memory." She tilted her head ever so slightly.

"Buildings are strange that way. They outlive almost everyone who ever walks through them. We restore temples that have stood for thousands of years, but we rarely know the names of the people who built them, or who crossed their courtyards every morning."

A gentle smile returned as she looked back toward Solon.

"Maybe that's why I like ruins so much." Her expression brightened with quiet enthusiasm. "They remind me that history isn't really about the stones. It's about trying to imagine the people who left them behind."

She looked back to the painting one last time.

"I wonder if that's why the people are so small." A thoughtful pause followed. "Not because they aren't important...but because the city is remembering them long after they're gone."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon's smile lingered as Meri spoke. "People sometimes imagine we're searching for answers, but really we're searching for enough pieces to ask better questions." He quietly committed the sentence to memory. It sounded like something that belonged in a journal.

As they moved deeper into the gallery, the paintings gradually became less important than he had expected them to be. Not because they lacked beauty. Quite the opposite. Each piece had become an excuse to watch someone else's mind at work.

Every so often he found himself stealing another glance toward Meri before returning his attention to whatever canvas stood before them. There was an earnestness to the way she looked at things, a curiosity entirely free of vanity. She seemed almost incapable of pretending to know more than she did, and equally incapable of resisting the desire to know more.

He realized, somewhat to his embarrassment, that he had begun anticipating her observations before forming his own. It was... nice. More than nice. There was a quiet warmth beginning to grow inside him, innocent enough that he barely recognized it for what it was. Like an eager loth-cat discovering a new companion, he simply found himself wanting to keep walking beside her.

Her thoughts on the painting drew him back from his own wandering reflections. He looked at the canvas again. Then at Meri. Then back again. A thoughtful smile spread across his face. "I think..."

He paused, considering both perspectives together. "I don't think we disagreed at all." His eyes drifted once more to the tiny figures disappearing into the streets. "I saw loneliness because everyone was walking away." He lifted his gaze toward the towering buildings. "You saw memory because the city remained." A quiet breath escaped him. "But perhaps those are the same story."

He stepped just a little closer to the painting, careful not to crowd the viewing space. "The city remembers..." His finger hovered—not pointing directly at the artwork, but tracing the broad lines of the architecture through the air. "...because the people are gone." His voice grew softer. "And it feels lonely because memory always belongs to something that's no longer here."

He smiled faintly, as though the realization had surprised even him. "I was focused on the people." He looked toward the buildings. "You were focused on what survived."

Then his lavender eyes returned to Meri. "Together..." Another warm smile. "...we noticed that neither really exists without the other."

He let the thought settle between them before adding, almost sheepishly, "I think that's becoming a habit." His fingers found the edge of his sketchbook again. "You'll point out something that has endured." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "And somehow I'll start wondering who laughed there... who waited for someone at that corner... who hurried home before the rain."

He glanced once more at the painting. "I suppose that's why art like this works." His smile softened. "It invites two strangers to stand in front of the same canvas..." His eyes met hers for a brief, lingering moment. "...and somehow leave seeing more than either of them could have managed alone."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri found herself smiling as Solon spoke, not because she had been proven right, but because he hadn't tried to decide whose interpretation was better. Somehow, he had simply picked up both ideas and held them together until they made something neither of them had noticed alone. It felt...easy. The kind of conversation where neither person had to defend their thoughts, only share them.

"I think you're right," she said quietly. "They are the same story." Her eyes returned to the painting, lingering on the tiny figures crossing the square. "Maybe that's what makes history so difficult." A thoughtful smile crossed her face. "You can spend years studying the same place, and then someone asks a question you never thought to ask."

She looked over at him as he admitted that it was becoming a habit. A soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

"I was just thinking the same thing."

There was a hint of surprise in her own voice, as though she'd only realized it while saying it aloud.

"I keep noticing things because you point them out first." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear almost absentmindedly. "Usually when I look at paintings, I spend all my time wondering whether the architecture is accurate, or if the artist changed something because it looked nicer." She glanced back toward the canvas with an amused smile. "I don't think I've ever stopped to wonder whether anyone in the painting was lonely."

Her gaze drifted slowly across the gallery, taking in the other visitors quietly wandering from one work to the next before settling once more on the painting before them.

"I think that's my favorite part about learning." Her voice softened, thoughtful rather than excited. "Not finding answers..." She smiled faintly. "Finding someone who notices things you'll probably never see on your own."

For a moment she simply stood beside him in comfortable silence, looking at the painting with fresh eyes.

"I wonder..." she murmured. "If the artist knew people would still be standing here talking about this years later."

A small smile returned as she looked over at Solon.

"If they did...I think they'd be happy we disagreed first."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon's expression softened as Meri spoke of all the questions a place could leave behind. A quiet sigh escaped him. For a moment, he wasn't looking at the painted city at all. He was thinking about Coruscant. How many stories could that world tell? The jewel of the galaxy, some called it. The center of civilization. The place from which governments proclaimed themselves rulers of stars they might never personally see. That distinction had made Coruscant desirable for thousands upon thousands of years.

And desirable things were fought over. Governments rose. Governments fell. Flags changed. Armies marched through the same streets that generations before them had sworn would stand forever. Somewhere among those countless stories was his own. Solon pushed the thought gently aside.

When he looked back toward Meri, she was tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His attention caught upon the simple motion. For reasons he couldn't have explained, he watched for a heartbeat longer than necessary. There wasn't anything remarkable about someone moving their hair. Yet somehow—

Solon blinked and redirected his attention toward the painting before she could notice him staring. "I think sometimes the artist changes things without even knowing they're doing it." His voice returned to that thoughtful cadence that came so easily when discussing art. "You mentioned wondering whether the artist altered the architecture because it looked nicer. Sometimes that's deliberate, certainly. Composition can demand things reality doesn't provide."

He considered the towering structures again. "But sometimes I think reality simply bends a little on the way through the artist." A small smile touched his lips. "That's the soul entering the work."

Solon gestured lightly toward the painted city. "To someone cataloging this place, those buildings might be brick and mortar. Steel and wood. Measurements, construction methods, dates..." His lavender eyes flickered toward Meri with an amused smile. "All those things I'm relying upon you to explain to me." Then he looked back at the painting.

"But the artist remembers how enormous the buildings felt when they stood beneath them. Or how warm the stone looked at sunset. Maybe a doorway reminds them of someone they loved. Maybe one particular street always felt lonely." His expression became more thoughtful. "So when they paint it, those feelings get mixed into the brick and mortar whether they intend them to or not."

Meri's question about what the artist would think of them standing here years later earned a quiet hum from Solon. "Hmmm." Then came a small, mischievous smirk. "I think it depends upon the artist."

He shifted his sketchbook beneath his arm. "Most artists know people will interpret their work, but I don't think we're actually creating it for some hypothetical person standing in a gallery years later. At least..." His eyebrows rose. "...I don't." He chuckled softly. "But the really good artists—and the ones with absolutely enormous egos—probably expect exactly this."

Solon gestured between Meri and himself. "Fifty people standing here and discovering fifty completely different meanings." His smirk widened. "The ones with enormous egos will tell all fifty people they're wrong." He gave a quiet laugh. "The good artist will probably be delighted."

His expression softened as he regarded the painting again. "Because they managed to put one feeling into something and somehow inspire fifty more." His gaze moved from the canvas toward Meri. "I think that's what I'd want." There was a touch of vulnerability in the admission.

"If something I made ever ended up hanging somewhere like this, I wouldn't want someone to tell me they'd figured out exactly what I meant." Solon smiled. "I'd much rather hear what they found in it."

His lavender eyes lingered on hers for just a moment. "Especially if it was something I'd never noticed myself."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri's attention returned to the painting as Solon spoke, but she found herself thinking less about the city and more about what he was saying. The idea that an artist might change something without ever consciously deciding to fascinated her. Archaeology demanded that she separate what she could prove from what she merely suspected, but art seemed almost to invite the opposite. A building could be taller because that was how it had felt to the person standing beneath it. A street could be darker because of a memory that had nothing to do with the weather that day. She smiled faintly at the thought. "That would probably drive an archaeologist completely mad," she admitted. "Trying to work out whether a doorway really looked like that, when the answer might just be that someone important used to stand in it."

She studied one of the painted facades again, trying to imagine how much of what she saw belonged to the city and how much belonged only to the person who remembered it. "But I think I understand what you mean about the soul entering it." Her brow furrowed slightly as she searched for the right words. "When I draw something at a site, I'm trying to record exactly what's there. Measurements, damage, how pieces fit together. Except..." She paused, realizing something that made her glance toward him with a slightly sheepish expression. "I always spend more time on the parts I like. So I suppose I'm doing it too, aren't I? Someone looking through my notes years from now might think a particular arch was terribly important when really I just thought it was beautiful."

His joke about artists with enormous egos earned a laugh, and Meri shook her head as she imagined someone standing beside their own work and systematically informing every visitor that they had failed to understand it. Solon's answer was much nicer. She liked the idea that something a person created could become larger than whatever they originally meant for it to be. "I think I'd want that too," she said. "If fifty people found fifty different things, then whatever you made gave all of them something." Her expression brightened as another thought occurred to her. "And you'd probably learn something about them from their answers. Maybe as much as they learned about you from the piece."

Meri met his lavender eyes when they returned to her, holding his gaze for a moment before a small smile appeared. "So now I'm curious." Her eyes dipped toward the sketchbook he had been carrying since they met, the question almost inevitable after everything he had just told her. "You keep talking about what you'd want someone to find in something you made..." She looked back up at him, curiosity written plainly across her features. "Are you ever going to let me see what's in there?" There was no demand in it, only a sixteen-year-old's poorly concealed interest and the beginnings of a playful smile. "Or am I supposed to spend the rest of the exhibition wondering?"

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon laughed softly at Meri's admission. "That might be one of the few times I'd advise an archaeologist not to search too hard for the truth." His gaze followed hers toward the painted doorway. "Imagine spending years trying to determine its architectural significance, only to discover the artist's explanation was..." His voice took on a deliberately solemn quality. "'That was where my grandmother waited for me after lessons.'"

A small grin betrayed him. "Though I suppose that would make the doorway important. Just not in any way you could measure." He listened with growing interest as Meri described her own drawings. Her sheepish realization brought a brighter smile to his face. "Exactly." There was perhaps a little too much enthusiasm in the answer.

"You are doing it." Solon looked delighted by the discovery. "You're trying to be completely objective, but you're still choosing where to spend your time. You can't help it." He glanced toward the painting again. "And whoever eventually sees those drawings won't know that the arch received more attention simply because Meri Vale thought it was beautiful."

His eyes returned to her. "They'll only know that you gave it more of yourself." For a moment he seemed quite pleased with that phrasing. "So maybe archaeologists aren't quite as safe from putting their souls into things as they'd like to believe."

The thought that interpretation could reveal as much about the observer as the artist made Solon quieter. "Yes." His smile softened. "I think that's one of the reasons I like showing people things I've made."

There was a brief pause. "Well..." His expression turned sheepish. "In theory, anyway."

He looked at the people wandering through the gallery. "If I show you something and you see loneliness, perhaps that tells me something about what I made. But it might tell me something about you as well. Someone else might see freedom. Someone might see hope. Someone else might find it terribly depressing." A faint laugh. "And somewhere in there I get to learn how fifty different people experience the same thing."

His gaze returned to Meri. "I suppose art lets people tell you things about themselves without realizing they're doing it."

Then her eyes dropped. Solon followed them. Straight to the sketchbook beneath his arm. Oh. His confidence evaporated with astonishing speed. "Are you ever going to let me see what's in there?" Solon's lavender eyes widened slightly.

The playful smile appearing on Meri's face did absolutely nothing to help. "I—" His fingers tightened around the sketchbook. "I mean, yes. Of course." He swallowed. "It's only..."

The young man who had spent the last several minutes confidently discussing the nature of artistic interpretation suddenly seemed considerably more interested in the floor. "It's different when it's mine." His cheeks had begun to color. Solon knew perfectly well how ridiculous that sounded after everything he'd just said. Knowing that did not make handing over his sketchbook any easier. Still, the prospect of leaving Meri wondering for the rest of the exhibition was somehow worse.

He pulled the sketchbook free and opened it. Immediately, he began thumbing through pages. Far too quickly. "There's quite a lot." A glimpse of an immense cityscape vanished beneath his thumb. Another page showed wild countryside rendered with considerably softer lines. Then came something almost entirely abstract. "Landscapes."

Another page. "Urban and wild."

Another. "Abstract pieces."

His nervous page-turning slowed slightly. "And geometric chiaroscuro studies. Those are mostly experiments with light and shadow and shapes and—" He stopped himself before his explanation became an excuse not to actually show her anything.

Solon looked up at Meri, cheeks still warm, and gave an embarrassed little smile. "What sort of thing did you want to see?" His thumb moved along the edges of the remaining pages.

"As I said, I have landscapes, abstract work, the chiaroscuro studies..." He hesitated. There was one category he had conspicuously avoided. His gaze briefly wandered toward Meri's hair. Then immediately back to the sketchbook. "...portraits."

The final word emerged rather more quietly than all the others. Solon held the book between them, suddenly looking as though he had offered Meri something considerably more personal than a collection of drawings. "So..." A nervous smile tugged at his lips. "You choose."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri's playful smile softened almost immediately when Solon's confidence disappeared. She hadn't expected the question to make him quite this nervous, especially after listening to him speak so easily about art and everything an artist left of themselves within it. For a second she wondered whether she should tell him he didn't have to show her anything, but then the pages started turning. Her eyes widened as little pieces of his work flashed past too quickly for her to properly see them. A city disappeared beneath his thumb, then countryside, then something made almost entirely of shapes, and Meri found herself trying unsuccessfully to follow all of it. "Wait, you're going too fast," she protested with a laugh. "I barely saw any of those."

When he finally stopped and offered her the choice, Meri looked down at the sketchbook with considerably more care than she had before. It suddenly felt different knowing how difficult it had been for him to open it. These weren't paintings hanging in a gallery for strangers to examine. They were his, carried around beneath his arm and apparently guarded much more carefully than all his confident talk about interpretation had suggested. "You know, after everything you just said about wanting to know what people find in your art, you're making this look very scary," she teased gently. Her smile made it clear she wasn't making fun of him. "But I'll make you a deal. You show me yours, and I'll show you mine."

She reached for her own tablet and lifted it slightly between them. "Mine isn't really art like yours is," Meri added quickly. "It's mostly drawings from sites I've visited. Buildings, carvings, pieces of things I couldn't identify..." Her nose wrinkled as she remembered what else was buried among those files. "And a lot of notes written around them. Some of them probably only make sense to me." There were half-finished sketches, measurements squeezed wherever she had found room, questions she'd meant to look up later, and more than a few excited observations that seemed much less intelligent when read days afterward. She hugged the tablet lightly against herself with a sheepish smile. "So if I'm allowed to see something you're embarrassed about, you can see all my scribbling too. That's fair."

Then she remembered that he'd actually asked her to choose. Landscapes immediately tempted her, and the studies of light and shadow sounded interesting after everything they'd been discussing, but there had been something noticeably different about the way he'd offered the final category. Meri's curiosity never stood much chance against that. Her gaze slipped from the sketchbook back to his lavender eyes, a hint of that earlier playful smile returning. "Portraits." She gave the answer with surprising certainty before curiosity made her lean just slightly nearer to the open book. "You said that one like you were hoping I wouldn't pick it, so now I really want to see them."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon winced slightly when Meri caught him flipping through the pages too quickly. "Sorry." He stopped, only to realize that stopping meant she could actually look at what he'd drawn, which somehow wasn't much better. Her teasing observation earned an embarrassed smile.

"I know. I realize how contradictory this must seem." His thumb worried at the corner of one page. "I meant everything I said. I would love to share what I make with people. I'd love to hear what they see in it." His gaze dropped toward the sketchbook. "I'm also absolutely terrified of doing it."

A small laugh escaped him at his own expense. "Apparently idealism and courage aren't the same thing." He looked back to Meri, and some of the nervousness softened. "But you've listened to me ramble about art for..." His eyes briefly swept the gallery, as though only now realizing how long they'd been wandering together. "...quite a while now."

A warm smile appeared. "And I think you'll come at it from the right angle." Not that Solon could have defined what the right angle was. Perhaps it was simply the certainty that Meri would be curious before she was judgmental. That seemed enough.

Her proposed bargain immediately made the prospect more appealing. "You'd really show me?" His attention shifted eagerly toward the tablet she raised. When Meri insisted that her drawings weren't really art like his, Solon's brows rose. "No." The objection came with unusual immediacy. "Absolutely not." His smile widened.

"You've already admitted that you spend more time drawing the things you find beautiful. You don't get to tell me that isn't art now." There was gentle teasing in his voice. "Buildings, carvings, mysterious pieces of ancient civilizations..." He nodded toward the tablet. "And all your thoughts surrounding them? I'd very much like to see those." Even the notes intrigued him. Perhaps especially the notes. A finished drawing showed what Meri had seen; the scribbled questions around it might show him how she'd thought. "So yes. Deal."

Then Meri chose. "Portraits." Solon froze. Of course. Of course she'd chosen portraits. His cheeks warmed further as she leaned a little closer.

"I didn't say it like that." He had. He knew he had. His gaze met her playful one, and Solon surrendered with a tiny sigh. "Fine. Perhaps I did."

His fingers returned to the pages. The problem wasn't that he disliked his portraits. Quite the opposite. People who knew he drew them occasionally asked to sit for him, and he was comfortable enough with his ability to accept when the subject interested him.

Meri probably wouldn't ask. She didn't strike him as someone who would particularly care about having her likeness captured merely for the sake of possessing it. And yet, as Solon searched for the portrait section, his mind betrayed him by returning to that simple movement from earlier.

A loose strand of black hair. Her hand rising. The absentminded motion of tucking it behind her ear while she continued talking. He still couldn't explain why he'd noticed it. He could explain even less why some part of his mind had already begun reducing the moment to lines and shadows.

He wanted to draw it. Solon swallowed. That presented a problem. If she didn't ask him to draw her, would it be terribly strange if she discovered later that he'd done it anyway? Probably. Maybe. Yes?

His fingers stopped. Thankfully, none of that existed on the page yet. "Here." He turned to a section containing several portraits in succession. There were strangers captured in passing, faces remembered from crowds and quiet moments. In the sketchbook. There were clearly more deliberate studies: carefully rendered expressions, profiles, hands resting against faces, eyes caught looking somewhere beyond the page. Some were polished; others consisted of only enough charcoal and graphite to preserve whatever had originally caught his attention. This section started with family. Solon stared at them for another second.

Then, before nerves could convince him otherwise, he held the sketchbook out to her. "Your turn." Once Meri took it, his hands suddenly had nowhere to go. Solon clasped them loosely behind his back, rocked almost imperceptibly onto his heels, and tried very hard not to look as nervous as he felt. He failed. "Take your time."

A tentative smile appeared. "I promise I won't explain any of them unless you ask." After everything he'd said about interpretation, it seemed only fair. He wondered silently if she would be able to tell the first were relatives. Still, his lavender eyes flickered between Meri and the sketchbook. He could only hope for the best.

Spoiler

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri accepted the sketchbook carefully, perhaps more carefully than she would have handled almost anything else in the gallery. The nervousness in Solon's expression wasn't lost on her, and somehow it made what he had handed her feel more important. She was curious, certainly, but she didn't immediately start flipping through the pages. Instead, when his hands disappeared behind his back, her gaze followed them before returning to his face with a small smile.

"Your turn too, remember?"

She held out her tablet to him with her free hand. "You don't get to stand there watching me look at yours while your hands are conveniently empty." There was a little nervousness beneath her teasing now too. Showing him her tablet had sounded perfectly fair when she'd suggested it. Actually handing over years of sketches, half-finished observations, and notes written whenever something caught her attention felt rather different. "And I should probably warn you that mine isn't organized nearly as well as your sketchbook."

Once Solon had the tablet, Meri finally lowered her eyes to the portraits. She started with the first page and, despite his invitation to take her time, initially felt oddly self-conscious about doing exactly that. It faded as she began studying the drawings. Her attention moved over the expressions, the profiles and the smaller details he'd chosen to preserve. Some were obviously more finished than others, but Meri found herself lingering just as long over the incomplete ones. Sometimes there were only a few lines, yet those lines had apparently been enough for Solon to decide the moment was worth remembering.

"These are really good," she said, then immediately made a face at herself because that sounded terribly inadequate after everything they'd just discussed. "No, that's not what I mean." She studied one of the earlier portraits again before glancing up at him. "You notice people."

That seemed closer. Meri looked back down, turning the page more slowly this time. "Not just what they look like. It's like you're trying to catch whatever they were doing when you decided you wanted to remember them." Her eyes returned to the first few portraits. There was something different about them compared with the strangers that followed, a familiarity in the way he'd drawn them that she couldn't quite explain. She studied them for another moment before looking up at him. "These first ones...are they your family?"

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon accepted the tablet with considerably more enthusiasm than he'd surrendered his sketchbook. "Right. The deal." He smiled as he took it, but there was also unmistakable relief in the exchange. This was better. Much better. Watching Meri experience his drawings in real time would have been excruciating. He would have watched every shift in her expression and convinced himself each pause meant she'd discovered some terrible flaw. Having something else to occupy his attention gave him somewhere to hide.

And, fortunately, Meri's tablet proved genuinely fascinating. Her warning earned a quiet laugh. "I don't think mine is organized either. I go through phases." He began moving through the files. "I'll become fascinated with shadows for a while, then suddenly everything is landscapes. Then portraits. Then something else entirely."

At first he studied the drawings themselves, but increasingly Solon's attention drifted toward the notes surrounding them. Some were precisely what he'd expected: measurements, classifications, observations on damage and construction. He didn't pretend to understand all of the technical language, but he appreciated the meticulousness behind it. Others were different. Questions squeezed into margins. Details she'd returned to more than once. Small observations that seemed unnecessary if her only purpose had been to document what was physically there. Those fascinated him. He was still reading one when Meri spoke. "These are really good."

Solon glanced up. "Thank—" Her immediate correction stopped him. His lavender eyes widened slightly as she tried again.

"You notice people."

The warmth began in his cheeks almost immediately. By the time she explained what she meant, Solon was blushing properly. "That's..." He glanced down at Meri's tablet, suddenly bashful. "That's probably one of the nicest things anyone could say about them."

Good would have been perfectly acceptable. He'd have been pleased with good. But Meri had noticed what he was trying to do. The realization left him simultaneously embarrassed and ridiculously accomplished. "I don't really want to draw someone's face just because it's their face," he admitted. "I want to remember why I noticed them."

His smile lingered as he returned to her tablet. "And since we're apparently giving proper critiques..." He turned it slightly toward her, indicating one of her sketches. "These are very well done." Before she could dismiss the compliment, he continued. "And your notes are incredibly thorough from an archaeological perspective—or at least they seem that way to someone whose archaeological expertise began about half an hour ago." A playful smile. "But there's more here."

He gestured toward several of the less technical annotations. "You don't just see walls and dust, Meri." His expression softened. "You notice what interests you. What you find beautiful. You ask what things were for, but sometimes you also seem to wonder what they meant to the people who were there." Solon tapped lightly beside one of her observations. "There's an artist hiding in here whether you admit it or not."

Then came her question. His eyes moved immediately toward the sketchbook in her hands. "These first ones...are they your family?" Solon shifted closer to her, leaning just enough to make certain which portraits she meant.

"Oh." For a moment there was something softer in his expression. "Yes." He pointed toward the first. "That's my grandmother." The next. "My father." His finger moved again. "My mother." Then to a portrait of two figures together. "And those are my parents." There was an unmistakable tenderness in his voice. Whatever else those people might have been to the galaxy, the drawings contained none of it. They were simply his family.

Then Meri turned far enough for Solon to see the next portrait. He stopped. His cheeks, which had only just begun recovering from her compliment, immediately turned red again. "Oh." The portrait was of a young woman—or certainly appeared to be. Delicate features, familiar auburn hair styled differently, clothing selected to soften an already slight frame. Anyone comparing the portrait carefully with the young man beside Meri might eventually notice similarities.

Solon stared at it for a moment. "That one..." He swallowed. "Technically, it's..." His fingers tightened slightly around Meri's tablet. "Well..." There really wasn't an elegant way to explain it. "It is me." His eyes flickered toward Meri, nervous but trusting.

"My mother gave me a cover identity when I had to escape Coruscant. Someone who couldn't easily be connected to Solon Rey." He looked back toward the portrait. "Freia." There was no humor in the name, nor embarrassment over the disguise itself. If anything, Solon's expression became thoughtful. "Freia Kaella." His voice softened. "She was supposed to be younger. A refugee girl. Forgettable enough that officials wouldn't look twice."

He paused, considering the portrait alongside memories that were far more complicated than charcoal could capture. "Eventually it became safe enough to be Solon again." His gaze remained on the drawing. "But Freia was me for long enough that I couldn't simply think of her as clothing and forged documents."

A small, uncertain smile appeared. "So..." He nodded toward the portrait. "This is how I see Freia. I would never have been so bold to dress like that though."

Spoiler

Grandmother

Father

Mother

Parents

Freia