Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Risky Business



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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

Roman never imagined he'd have a Jedi enclave mostly to himself. The Ukatian compound was larger than he'd expected, a place that practically dared him to run across them like a kid again. And he had.

Upbeat, shamelessly indulgent music spun from a battered old player he'd scrounged up. Roman moved with a looseness he rarely allowed anyone to see. Arms flailing, socks sliding, he spun through the main chamber, laughter bubbling up somewhere between his teeth and his chest. He had no real plan, no thought to tomorrow, just a moment to feel alive in a place that had held too much silence lately.

He'd even carved out a small space for himself here, though he'd brought almost nothing but his presence. A neatly folded blanket, a trunk in the corner, and a few small keepsakes. For a man like him, it felt almost decadent.

Another slide across the floor, socks squealing faintly against the stone, brought him face-to-face with her. Cora. She was hovering nearby in her chair, a mug of steaming tea balanced in one hand, her eyes fixed on him with an expression blending amusement and surprise. Roman froze mid-slide, his balance faltering. The music blared on, but the air suddenly felt too sharp, too full of heat creeping up the back of his neck.

He cleared his throat, scrambling for a robe he'd left draped across a chair. He wrapped it around himself in hurried motions, as if it could somehow erase what she'd just witnessed. "Didn't think you were back yet," he managed.

Quieter, steadier, his familiar tone returned. He tugged the robe tighter, shook his head once, then crossed the room toward her, leaving the music to play on in the background. "You shouldn't be sneaking up on me like that," he muttered, though the words lacked any real bite, more an attempt to mask his embarrassment.

He pulled out the chair across from her, sitting down with deliberate ease, grounding himself again. His eyes lingered on her cup of tea before flicking up to her face, softening despite himself. "How've you been holding up?" he asked. "Are the injuries still giving you trouble?"

 

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"By all means," Cora dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Don't let me interrupt you."

Steam curled from the cup, drifting around the subtle curl of her smile. While this wasn't what she'd expected to see, it was amusing – and frankly heartening – all the same.

Roman had a difficult life. When he'd returned to Ukatis, broken and bleeding and on death's doorstep, she thought he'd never smile again. She'd imagined him living in grim, gruff silence, a man with more scars than he had hope or love. Somehow, when he'd disappeared into the Ukatian treeline, Cora felt a subtle wind of change thread between them.

The months bled by. She hoped that Roman would find peace or purpose, perhaps both, among the endless fields and bales of hay. The enclave had been slow to form, and she was grateful for his help in both temple maintenance and teaching.

"I know I said I'd be back around nightfall," Cora paused to lift the teacup to her lips, taking a cursory sip of the amber liquid. Her eyes never left his own. "But the contracts I had to go over with Fabian were shorter than expected. Agreeable, too. I hardly had to interject on many of the points."

She left out the rest of the truth, as she tended to. That her energy had quickly waned, and the rest of the deliberations regarding refugee placement had taken place without her. While this would normally be a source of frustration, her mood had been suitably lifted by the sight before her.

When she'd heard what sounded like laughter in Roman's particular cadence, she'd nearly wept, having forgotten the sound. Cora had spent a moment lingering just beyond the doorway, out of sight, while she gathered herself.

"A little tired today, but nothing out of the ordinary." She gave the cup an idle swirl, watching the liquid within slosh gently against the porcelain.

"May I ask what inspired…"
Trailing off, she tilted her chin upward to gesture towards him. "...all of this? A native Serennian dance?"

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman settled into the chair next to her. He watched her closely, noting the curve of her hand on the teacup, the subtle fatigue around her eyes, and how her words often veiled unspoken truths. He sensed something was amiss with her, a truth he couldn't quite grasp, not yet.

When she suggested a Serennian dance, his brow furrowed, and that flicker of warmth vanished. His jaw tightened. He looked away, down at the floor, before his gaze returned to her.

"No," he said flatly, arms crossed. "Nothing from Serenno. Not anymore." His voice held a rough edge. "I was just bored. Thought I had the place to myself a little while longer."

He leaned back, shoulders relaxing against the chair, though his arms stayed folded as if to fend off the very mention of that old name and heritage. After a beat, his mouth quirked again, this time with a sharper edge.

"Besides, I'm Ukatian now. Ask anyone in the countryside. I've got myself quite a reputation these days." His tone turned wry, almost teasing, yet his eyes still held their usual searching intensity as they met hers. "The farmers' daughters, they've already named me: the Ukatian Dream."

He let the comment hang for a moment, then propped his feet on the table's edge, settling in with a deliberate ease he didn't truly feel. His gaze, softening slightly, narrowed as he squinted at her in quiet challenge.

"Now, enough dodging. You can tell me." His voice dropped, concern heavy beneath its steady calm. "How are you really feeling? Your injuries, your fatigue... the truth this time, Cora."

 

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No, not from Serenno.

Cora didn't know whether to be a tad concerned over Roman eschewing his heritage, or proud that he was one of the few who chose to be Ukatian. He'd been subjected to certain evils in his life, evils that largely stemmed from his aristocratic upbringing. Something she could understand. He was still healing.

So, she smiled.

"The Ukatian Dream, is it?" She mused, lips pursed with good humor while choosing to ignore his feet on the table. "That's certainly a new one." She could see it, though. Handsome, good-natured, and a hard worker. What farmer's daughter wouldn't eye him up as husband material? "Just make sure you don't go rolling around in the hay."

The time that separated them had not dulled Roman's instincts. In fact, they seemed sharper than ever, which was either a blessing or a curse. Cora sipped her tea while mulling over whether to brush off his concern or answer honestly.

"Some days are better than others," she admitted with a careful sort of calm. "This week has been particularly...challenging. The details with the High Republic have been finalized, but there's still a lot of work to do."

She rocked the teacup gently, letting the liquid inside stir for just a moment as she peered down into the dark amber sheen of it's surface. Cora lifted her head and smiled easily.

"You don't have to worry, Roman. I always find a way to manage."

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman's mouth twitched at her quip about hay. A low chuckle slipped out of him, rough-edged but genuine. There wasn't much he could say to that, anyway. Lending a hand to farmers, wandering the fields, that was half the point of his current wandering. It wasn't for money; he had plenty from selling off the Vossari estate. It was for the company, the laughter, the chance to feel young in spite of the scars that tried to steal that from him. He wasn't about to give her an opening to talk about marriage or warn him against squandering any charm people thought he had.

He settled deeper into his chair. His blue eyes, steady yet restless, narrowed when she dismissed her struggles with her usual calm. He'd seen that mask before, many times.

"You can tell me not to worry all you like," he said, the words sharper than he intended. "But I will. Always." He tightened his arms across his chest before letting them fall, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table.

"You don't have to just 'manage,' Cora. Not with me here. Not with Makko either. You've got people to lean on. You don't have to carry it all until it grinds you down."

His gaze softened as he leaned forward, his voice quieter but insistent. "Get some rest. Heal the right way. You're burning yourself out, and don't try to tell me otherwise. After Coruscant… you came back weaker. Different. I can see it."

He drew in a slow breath, forcing the edge from his tone, letting something steadier emerge. His hand brushed the table once, a small, grounding gesture.

"I just need to know you'll be okay," he finished, his voice rough but earnest. "That's all."

 

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As Roman reminded her that he would always worry, Cora's smile settled into something knowing, but no less appreciative. It was the sort of expression that said; I will worry about you, too. Always.

Because that was what family did.

She traced a finger along the length of her chair's armrest, suddenly longing for the day where the three of them - Roman, Lysander, and herself - went fishing on Naboo. Her biggest worry then had been cleaning lake ooze out of her hair.

Never would she forget the sound of their laughter, real and uninhibited.

"This isn't the sort of thing that heals with rest, Roman," she admitted carefully. Her smile grew tight, grew tired until it wasn't much of a smile at all. "I'm not certain if it will ever heal."

Cora slipped a hand into the collar of her tunic, palm resting against the gnarled wound at her chest. "Not completely," she murmured, almost absently.

For a few beats of silence, she watched Roman, and the way frustration altered his body language. The shifting tones of his voice spoke of concern.

For that, she couldn't never fault him.

"Is this your way of asking me for more work?" A thin blonde brow arched, a whisper of amusement shifting her expression. "You have done well in looking after the enclave. Perhaps I should give you more responsibility."

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman's chest tightened at her words. They landed heavier than he expected, heavier than he could carry without something inside him bending. He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, that she'd mend, that one day she'd wake and all of it would feel lighter again. But the way her hand lingered against the wound at her chest, the tired curve of her smile... that silenced him.

He remembered her differently. The Cora who laughed freely, the one who pulled him from his mischief back when they were still just Jedi. When the galaxy had been hard, yes, but not yet this unrelenting. She looked weathered now, as if too many storms had passed through her without letting her rebuild. It broke his heart to think there might be no going back.

He shifted, resting his forearms on his knees, head bowed slightly as though steadying himself. The muscles in his jaw flexed and eased. If she wouldn't heal fully, then he'd just make sure she never had to carry it alone. Whether that meant splitting logs in the fields, fixing the enclave's leaks, or being a fool on polished floors to make her smile... he'd be there. Always.

When her brow arched and she asked if this was his way of begging for more work, his lips twitched. The grimness faded for a moment, replaced by something lighter, something teasing. "No," he said, shaking his head with mock solemnity. "I'll help when you need it, sure. But let's be clear... everything else? That's up to me." He leaned back, robe loosening again at the collar, a glint of mischief in his tired blue eyes. "Roman is going to do what Roman wants to do." He gave a half-smile then, small but real, before glancing back at her, watching closely for the cracks she tried to hide.

 

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Guilt was always quick to sweep in and displace any other feeling. This time, it was guilt over seeing Roman wilt from her - admittedly dramatically grim - assessment of her own health.

So used was she to carrying burdens, that Cora instinctively sought to deny Roman his own grief. It took a conscious effort not to. She found it difficult to allow her loved ones to care for her in the same way that she cared for them, because it sometimes meant pain on their end.

Fortunately, her comment shifted the mood. Roman lifted it a little further, and Cora pressed her lips together into a thin line to keep from giggling.

"Roman is going to do what Roman wants to do," she repeated, a suppressed laugh causing her tone to waver pleasantly. "You're like a loth cat, you know that?"

In truth, Cora was glad for him. It soothed some of her anxieties to see Roman forging his own path, even if it twisted and turned and didn't have a set end. He seemed happier. Steadier. At peace with his demons, if only a bit.

"Still," she said, tone softening but not dropping in pitch. "I'm glad you came with me to Kadaara. It was grounding having someone I know and trust looking out for me in a sea of strangers. Were you able to talk with Aiden, at least?"

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman shook his head, a faint, crooked smirk touching his lips. "A loth cat? No. Not me. I'm not like anything else." He leaned back, stretching a leg out, a flicker of pride in his expression. "I'm unique. No one could dare be like me."

He let that statement hang in the air, his eyes narrowing playfully before softening as Cora mentioned Aiden. "I did speak with him. Briefly. But I see him often enough. I always make time." His voice dropped, a rough but steady tone. "He needs a friend now and then. I'll be there... just as he's been for me."

Still, the playfulness faded quickly. His mouth tightened, and his gaze shifted away, back to the memory of Kadaara. "That den of snakes…" He exhaled through his nose, a subtle scoff. "I still don't approve. The King can represent Ukatis without you at his side for every little display. He doesn't need you there to puff up his pride."

The muscles in his jaw worked before his voice grew low, a quiet edge underneath. "And that prince..." He cut himself off, his hands flexing against his knees. "The way he spoke about Lysander, as if he knew anything about him… I didn't like it. Not one bit."

The name hung between them like a shadow. Roman swallowed, his throat working. Speaking it always brought a pang, sharp and old. "He knew nothing," Roman said finally, his voice quieter. "And I should have said more."

His gaze lowered to the table, a flash of grief softening his features. "Lysander was..." He stopped himself, eyes tightening as he leaned back again. His voice steadied, though it was roughened, worn. "He was my friend. My brother, once. But we drifted. Now, there's just silence."

Roman's hand brushed his jaw, restless, before he finally met Cora's gaze again. "I don't need anyone using his name to score points at a table."

 

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Cora only offered a roll of her eyes – albeit a playful one – to Roman's quip about being unique. She certainly wasn't going to try and argue that point.

"I'm glad that you got a chance to speak with Aiden." Her gaze softened, the gentle curve of her smile genuine. "You two have been good friends to each other. It's important to hold on to something like that, when we can."

The moment Roman's expression soured, Cora knew where the winds of the conversation would shift. Ashla, she knew it from the moment she'd brought it up.

"Perhaps he didn't need me there," she murmured. "But, I needed to be there. If not for Fabian, then for Ukatis." A deep breath was drawn in from between the lines of her teeth as she sent her glance off to the side, perhaps, in a moment of tentative embarrassment. "For myself."

Aurelian wasn't mentioned by name, but perhaps that made the image of him – and of what he'd said – all the more potent. Tiny hairs at the back of Cora's neck prickled as they stood on end. Her eyes tilted down, finding the stone floor Roman had been prancing across only minutes ago.

Lysander.

The fabric of her tunic lifted against her chest in slow, deep breaths. For a moment, Cora let her eyes fall closed and sought her brother in the dark space behind her lids. Lysander's decision had left a crater of pain behind for those who loved him, who stood on a different face of the galaxy.

"No," she agreed softly. "He wasn't right to do that. He wasn't right to wield...his name like a weapon."

She had paused, because her mouth couldn't quite make the shape it need to pronounce her brother's name. Cora lifted her head, drawing in a slow breath through her nose before her eyes blinked open.

"Perhaps he had something of a point," she murmured. "A cautionary tale of what could happen when a Jedi falls from the path. That is why we do not rule." A beat passed, during which her lips curved into a thoughtful frown. "Or rather, why we shouldn't."

A long sigh escaped her. "But I digress," she began as he lifted the teacup to her lips. "It was cruel. Strange as you may think it, I believe that Aurelian might be better than what he'd said."

Cora tilted her head to the side as the rim of the cup hovered just below her lips. "Even though he's a pretentious, spoiled, bombastic and vain specimen of a man who wears entirely too much eyeliner."

With an amused little huff, she took a short sip of her tea.

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman slouched back into the chair, but it offered him no ease. He let out a sharp, bitter exhale. "A cautionary tale? That's all they'll ever reduce him to, isn't it?"

His voice turned gravelly, edged with tension. "Lysander wasn't just a lesson to toss around a table. He was…" Roman cut himself short, his jaw flexing. The words felt too large to speak. He sat forward instead, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the stone floor as though it might give him answers.

His chest rose and fell unevenly. He finally dragged his gaze up to her, meeting her calm composure. "I should've seen it," he admitted, his voice rougher, stripped bare. "We trained side by side; he was my brother before he was anything else. And still, I didn't see the path he was going down. Or maybe I didn't want to. That failure doesn't just go away." His hand pressed against the side of his neck, thumb scraping restlessly against his jaw. "It sits here every day. Haunting."

For a long beat, the silence held. Only the faint clink of her teacup stirred the air between them.

Roman leaned back at last, but his posture remained taut, like a bow pulled too far. His expression softened, though, a flicker of earnestness behind the storm in his eyes. "As for rulers…" He shook his head, a faint smirk playing across his lips, lacking its earlier lightness. "Fabian's crown doesn't make him the rightful one. You sitting there across from me... that is Ukatis' true strength. I mean the sheer sincerity of your dedication. You."

His voice steadied, low and sincere, carrying quiet conviction. "I don't buy into this notion that anyone sworn to serve should keep their hands clean of power. Who better than someone committed to putting their people before themselves? Who better than you?"

 

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Cora's jaw worked slowly beneath her skin, tightening into a clench before she realized it. "I should've seen it too," she admitted in a whisper, grave and guilty. "He…always looked to me for guidance, when we were younger. I should've known."

A slow intake of breath through her nose didn't soothe, but it did remind her to loosen the tension from her neck and jaw. "I don't want you to carry that blame, Roman." Her gaze flicked toward him, sincere to the point of being almost painful. "You were a student, as was he. You had your own trials to face. All of my excuses - that I was busy with council duties, busy with Ukatis, busy with missions - mean nothing, if I cannot even care for those who are most dear to me."

Being a Jedi was about balance. Accepting the will of the Force, even when it hurt. It was easier for them to individually blame themselves for Lysander's fall.

Because that was less painful than it being inevitable.

Cora took a sip of her tea, then stirred it with a tiny spoon, an act that should've come before the drink. The warm liquid and floral notes steadied her enough for the emotional tide to ebb back.

To the remark about Fabian, Cora lifted a brow.

"Fabian cares a great deal for the people of Ukatis," she insisted. It wasn't a lie, nor an embellishment. It was what she truly believed. "He is a good man."

Her watery gaze was quick to firm, but didn't harden into stone. "Dedication…" she trailed, as if savoring the particular taste of the word. "My dedication can have more impact without the burden of a crown."

Cora's upper lip curled just slightly, not exactly a sneer. There was something there, though - a thread that could be pulled. A bitter resentment that had lived in her since her first marriage. How walking the halls of the palace, even now, felt like being trapped in a cage all over again.

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION: Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman's eyes dropped at her words, the hard line of his mouth wavering. That restless tension returned to his frame. His broad shoulders hunched slightly forward, as though he wished he could fold himself smaller, less visible.

"I can't lay it all on you," he said finally, his voice low and rough with restraint. "Lysander wasn't just your brother; he felt like a younger one to me too. I should've done more." His gaze shifted away, narrowing at some unseen point, and his voice gained a flinty edge. "The signs were there. He would get quiet, or suddenly sharp. I knew the darkness was clawing at him. But I buried it. I was too consumed with my own shadows, my own anger. I could have spoken, warned you. I didn't."

He exhaled through his nose, slow and heavy, as if the weight of the admission pressed down on his chest. His eyes lifted to her again, softening with something raw. "I don't want you carrying all of this, Cora. You were busy; you had duties no one else could have borne. But me?" His lips twisted faintly with self-reproach. "I was just quiet and then I left. I'll live with that."

For a long moment, his jaw worked. When he spoke again, his voice carried a small ember of stubbornness, a fragile defiance. "Still, I can't believe he's gone forever. Not truly. The boy we knew, the brother... I have to believe he's not lost completely."

Roman fell quiet, letting the silence settle once the storm in him had tempered. His hands relaxed slowly against his knees, fingers uncurling as Cora defended Fabian. His mouth pulled into a faint, rueful smile, but it carried no malice.

"I didn't mean to stir that," he murmured, shaking his head. His amber-flecked eyes sought hers, steady and apologetic. "I only wanted you to know what I see, what I believe. But I spoke out of turn. Fabian will do well, I've no doubt. I'm sorry." His tone softened, sincere now, carrying no trace of his earlier scoff.

His shoulders eased, and he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Tell me, though: what can I do to help? To take some of the burden off your shoulders?" He paused, studying her features with quiet earnestness. "Maybe I can take over some responsibilities for a while. Just enough so you and Makko can breathe. Have a night that isn't just filled with politics or duty. You deserve that." The faintest ghost of a smile touched his lips. There was no jest or mischief left in it, only a steady offering, simple and true.

 

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Roman's frustration might've softened, but that's only paved the way for his guilt. Cora's heart ached as she watched his broad form begin to crumple in on itself, weighed down by shame and regret. She wanted desperately to take his pain, to absorb it as her own - after all, what was another drop of remorse within the ocean she swam?

Roman had a difficult life. His upbringing, much like her own, had been in a home of gilded barbs. All sharp edges, where softness was a true luxury.

With slow, careful movements, Cora placed her teacup onto the table and reached for Roman's hand. Pale fingers settled atop scarred ones.

"We will share this burden, then,” she insisted quietly. The corners of her lips lifted in a whisper of a smile. A sad, longing one. She couldn't deny Roman the space to feel what he did.

That was the difficultly with being overly protective; balancing care with freedom. Cora had trouble holding on so tightly that she ran the risk of being too restrictive.

"I don't know if what he gave up was worth what he gained, but the Force works as it does. Perhaps, one day, it will lead him back to us."


Cora settled back into her chair. Her chest lifted, then dropped with a heavy sigh.

"No, it's…" she trailed, searching for the words. "It's alright. Perhaps I was too harsh. Fabian and I are old friends. After what happened during the rebellion, I…"

Again, her voice drifted off. This time it wasn't for lack of words, but the uncertainty as to whether she should speak them. It took a long moment to rework her thoughts into something more presentable.

"After what I've seen, I resolved not to allow any man to take the throne that I thought was unworthy. I can only hope that my measure is the right one, arrogant though it may sound."


Roman's offer had her lips curling into a pleased little smile. Cora enjoyed the brief injection of levity.

"If you're offering,"
she began coyly, "I'd like to see you lead some classes. In the Force, in farming, or other practicalities - it doesn't matter. It doesn’t have to be often. Once a week, once a month, whatever you can manage.” Cora eyed Roman, flickers of mischief edging the pride in her expression.

"Like it or not, you make a good influence here. Those who come to train or visit can sense it. I think it would be good for you, too."

Roman Vossari Roman Vossari
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LOCATION:Ukatis Enclave, Ukatis
TAGS: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
Roman flinched slightly when her cool fingers touched his scarred knuckles. His hand twitched, an instinct to pull away, but he held still, letting her hold it. Her warmth seeped into him, softening the tension in his body. His gaze dropped to their joined hands, then met her eyes, a familiar ache stirring in his chest.

Her words caught in his throat. He wanted to argue, his jaw tightening, but when he saw the insistence and longing in her face, he simply gave a small, quick nod. "Then we'll share it," he murmured, his voice raw, the words a quiet surrender.

He listened in silence as she spoke of Fabian, the rebellion, and her refusal to let the throne fall into unworthy hands. Roman's gaze never left her, unwavering. She spoke like someone who carried storms and dared to balance them. He had always admired that about her, even when he didn't voice it.

But when she turned that same confidence on him, asking him to step into a larger role, to teach, to lead, Roman stiffened. His eyes darted away, his jaw tightened, and the faint line between his brows deepened. He leaned back in his chair, shoulders shifting, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Me?" he scoffed, the word low and disbelieving. His hand slipped from hers, restless fingers dragging across the table's edge as if he needed to anchor himself. "No, Cora. That's not who I am."

He shook his head slowly, self-consciously, his gaze fixed on the stone floor instead of her. "You say I'm a good influence, but I don't see it. Not for people who come here searching for light, for something better. They won't find that in me. I'm not whole enough to give it. I'm broken, haunted. The wrong man to help anyone."

Roman's hand curled into a loose fist on his knee, his knuckles white. "Physical tasks are all I trust myself with now. Fixing leaks, lifting stone, splitting wood. I'm just an extra set of hands. That's safe. But to teach?" He let out a bitter breath, shaking his head again. "I shouldn't be guiding anyone in the Force. I'm pretty sure it hates that I can wield it at all."

He finally looked back at her, his expression a mix of self-reproach and weary honesty. "That's the truth, Cora. Whether you like it or not."

 

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