Nothing's Like Before
Ariel sat quietly in the loft of her home in the old quarter of Avalonia. She had promised Rowan they would head out toward the docks later in the day. Ariel loved the way the Fortuna River looked toward sunset, the way the boats traversed up and down its length ferries bound for Prosperia, others heading away from Avalonia proper and up the river toward the countryside. The older woman, with graying hair at her temples, had spent much of her post-resurrection time keeping to herself. A few citizens wondered if she was truly Ariel Yvarro; Ariel simply lied and introduced herself as Josefina Corde. Not entirely wrong, but not entirely right either.
She didn't want to interfere or intrude. After all, she was supposed to be dead. The loft was quiet, filled only with the sounds of the old Crown City Radio playing songs from the Great Galactic War era, back when the galaxy was somewhat civilized, and she'd argue once, maybe twice, with her wife. Rowan was returning from a summons with Ivalyn, of all people. Ariel imagined Ivalyn might have wanted to talk to Rowan given the rumors of a reborn First Order on Zakuul. At least, if the rumors were true.
Even if they were, there was nothing anyone could do.
Nor could anyone truly bring back what had been lost, not even Ariel.
She scoffed slightly as she went to the kettle screaming in the kitchen. Tea, she thought to herself; a delightful persimmon and mint blend imported from Sejong. The Seoularians always knew a good cuppa. "Ro, is that you?" Ariel called out after hearing the door. "I've just poured tea, would you like a cup? We can do biscuits and sandwiches, if you like."