[ Alone in her residence, this could be a good time to seek him out. It's all thanks to a younger Luke that she's sending off a short video feed to her son.
She's much older than the version that's stuck here. How she's come to age thirty-some years into the older woman he would be more familiar with, who knows. Leia's seated, hands on her lap. Under a sleeve, out of sight, her nail digs and drags slightly against a finger. Possibly a nervous tick? Something to keep her grounded? She looks calm but sad, weakened, tired and yet...hopeful. ]
I'm sorry.
[ Two words, the weight and meaning behind them heavy, said with the utmost sincerity. ]
[ He'd seen her network post, of course. Part of him had wanted to reach out, desperately- but he had crushed it. Viciously. He'd spent the rest of the day in the woods, wearing himself out to the point of exhaustion with pointless physical exercise, pouring himself into every furiously powerful blow against imaginary foes. If his uncle arrived, the one he remembered rather than the pale shadow of his former master in the body of a boy-- he would have to be ready. It was this fury that kept him focused.
But he couldn't keep sparring with nothing but his demons forever. Tired and weary, he dragged himself home, where his mother's message was waiting. He watched it through, swallowed, put the device down and paced. Picked it up. Replayed it. Replayed it again, and again, until he no longer needed to- until he could see it just as clearly in his mind.
It was a trick. Wasn't it? It had to be a trick. He needed it to be a trick. He cursed, slammed his fist into the wall once, twice-- then snatched the device up with an angry flick of his fingers, summoning it to his hand, and stabbed in a reply. ]
[ She'd sat there waiting for his reply. Anything. Her thoughts raced. He wouldn't reply, why would he? He had every right not to and to be upset with her, furious. The same as she was with him. But with the old age came about a resignation, a tired one. Defeat, perhaps.
All of these emotions, all of these memories. The illness she could feel threatening to overtake her. ]
[ He stared at the words, an incredulous fury building under his skin as he thought of the empty, angry years, all the opportunities she hadn't taken to- to what, exactly? Rescue him? ]
[ Leia closed her eyes. That was a question she’d ask herself constantly when she was left to her thoughts, left alone to her remorse, to the ghosts that followed. ]
[ He holds his device tightly for a moment. There are so many bitter, vicious things he could snap out in response to that, and he wants to hurl every last one in her face- but something has changed in her. He sensed it before, when he couldn't fire on the bridge of the rebel ship- and he senses it now. All the things that he had believed about her feelings for him... none of it seems so certain any more.
[ To see him in person where they aren’t surrounded by war, it would be a nice change. There are also some things she wishes to tell him but in person.
Should she be pleased for him? Leia could argue that she and Han hadn’t raised him to become a killer, to kill his own father, however since when had they properly raised him? They’d clearly left a bad impression on him as far as parenting went. ]
[ He knows this can only end badly. He knows. But his fingers are moving already. ]
There's a small park in De Chima. I've sent the co-ordinates.
[ And he does. He stares at the screen after the message is sent, trying to fight through the tangle of his thoughts- but it's too frustrating. Instead, he dresses quickly and steps out before he can change his mind, his muscles still sore from the punishing workout he put himself through earlier. ]
[ It’s a relief when she receives the coordinates. It means he’s agreed to her request. Though chances are he would beat her there, he isn’t the one with a small shuffle in his step.
As she’s already dressed she leaves the house and makes her way to the park. Is she nervous? Yes. But why?
The cane she’d picked up soon after waking and finding how much she’d aged, it taps the pavement with each step, breaking through the silence that follows her. ]
[ He is there already, of course- standing perfectly, unnaturally still, the tension coiled up inside dangerously tight. He wants to pace- but he doesn't want her to see him like that, stalking back and forth like a caged animal. He wants her to see him strong. Controlled.
Unwelcome concern tugs at his heart as he sees her approach- she's so old.So old. So many years separating them. He swallows, and waits for her to come to him. This is her silence- let her break it. ]
[ Seeing him there, Leia only pauses briefly. He was waiting. There were so many more emotions going through her upon seeing him standing so tall and so still. Relief, concern, love. Each fell and sat heavy in their own right in her very being. This was her son, her flesh and blood, a man who carried his father’s height and his mother’s eyes.
When she stops, there’s but a few feet separating them. Her fingers tighten over the top of her cane. She tilts her head to meet his eye, gaze searching his face. What does she say? Are you well? Are you eating? Does she reach out for him?
Physically? No, not yet. With the Force? Yes, like a gentle brush against his jaw. ]
[ This is dangerous. He knows it. Something of her has been here in this world since before he arrived, but he's been able to keep some kind of distance with her being younger- as if she were a living holovid of a time before he even existed. In moments of weakness he had chosen to see her as he needed to, yes, but she had always been something separate from the woman who approaches him now.
She is his mother. It sits within him, that knowledge- heavy, solid, immutable. She is his mother, and a part of him will always ache for the comfort she had once been able to give him, when he was small and didn't yet understand that comfort wasn't for people like him.
He meets her eyes. Forces himself to. He is firm and strong, he is the power she feared would destroy him. And he is tired. Hollow and lost. He is both these things. But neither side of the struggle under his skin flinches away from her as she reaches out for him through the Force. ]
[ She'd wanted so badly to reach out when he'd approached her ship, in those last few moments before she'd sensed the incoming shots fired that would send her and her crew out into space. Then she could only sense the turmoil and struggle within him, the worry in herself, the longing that he would come home.
Now, here, Leia gives a faint smile, grateful that he doesn't pull away or push back her touch with the Force. ]
[ There's no smile in return. Something in him twists- but he won't allow it to reach his face. He swallows, keeping his eyes steady on hers even as everything that boils beneath the surface aches to run. To her, from her- both at once. ]
[ Leia doesn't want him to run from her. Although she and Han were the ones to push him away, him running from her is the last thing she wants right now. She doesn't have much time, she knows this, and perhaps...he knows this as well. Things cannot go unresolved between them.
A small step closer is taken, her focus as unwavering as his as she watches him. ]
[ He doesn't flinch. She asked him to come meet with her, he came. Mostly, to prove to the both of them that he isn't afraid of her. That no matter what she could say or do, he has made himself immune to further injury.
To see you for myself, with my own eyes. Not in dreams, not in memories. I wanted to see my son.
[ And now she has. It's been too long. Fleeting brushes with the Force, she needs more than that, but Leila won't push him. She knows they've hugged, her younger self, from the past. How unfair is it that it's been what feels like ages since she'd had such an opportunity. ]
[ There's a very slight tremble at the edge of his voice. The storm raging under his skin whirls and tumbles, very barely contained by the unnatural rigidity of his stance, the steeled resolve in every muscle and sinew that holds him together. ]
[ Her voice comes out soft, hoarse. Emotion feels thick in her throat. ]
Of course I do. Ben—
[ Not thinking, just acting on her emotions and what she can sense from him, Leia reaches out for his arm, a hand hopefully finding a place at his forearm. ]
Edited (That was an angry icon oops 😩) 2018-09-05 00:44 (UTC)
Video; a day or two into aging event
She's much older than the version that's stuck here. How she's come to age thirty-some years into the older woman he would be more familiar with, who knows. Leia's seated, hands on her lap. Under a sleeve, out of sight, her nail digs and drags slightly against a finger. Possibly a nervous tick? Something to keep her grounded? She looks calm but sad, weakened, tired and yet...hopeful. ]
I'm sorry.
[ Two words, the weight and meaning behind them heavy, said with the utmost sincerity. ]
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If his uncle arrived, the one he remembered rather than the pale shadow of his former master in the body of a boy-- he would have to be ready. It was this fury that kept him focused.
But he couldn't keep sparring with nothing but his demons forever. Tired and weary, he dragged himself home, where his mother's message was waiting. He watched it through, swallowed, put the device down and paced.
Picked it up. Replayed it. Replayed it again, and again, until he no longer needed to- until he could see it just as clearly in his mind.
It was a trick. Wasn't it? It had to be a trick. He needed it to be a trick. He cursed, slammed his fist into the wall once, twice-- then snatched the device up with an angry flick of his fingers, summoning it to his hand, and stabbed in a reply. ]
Why are you doing this.
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All of these emotions, all of these memories. The illness she could feel threatening to overtake her. ]
Why wouldn't I?
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You tell me, General. Why didn't you.
Forgive me
It’s no excuse, but I was afraid.
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He sensed it before, when he couldn't fire on the bridge of the rebel ship- and he senses it now. All the things that he had believed about her feelings for him... none of it seems so certain any more.
He breathes. ]
Then you should be pleased for me.
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[ To see him in person where they aren’t surrounded by war, it would be a nice change. There are also some things she wishes to tell him but in person.
Should she be pleased for him? Leia could argue that she and Han hadn’t raised him to become a killer, to kill his own father, however since when had they properly raised him? They’d clearly left a bad impression on him as far as parenting went. ]
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But his fingers are moving already. ]
There's a small park in De Chima. I've sent the co-ordinates.
[ And he does. He stares at the screen after the message is sent, trying to fight through the tangle of his thoughts- but it's too frustrating.
Instead, he dresses quickly and steps out before he can change his mind, his muscles still sore from the punishing workout he put himself through earlier. ]
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[ It’s a relief when she receives the coordinates. It means he’s agreed to her request. Though chances are he would beat her there, he isn’t the one with a small shuffle in his step.
As she’s already dressed she leaves the house and makes her way to the park. Is she nervous? Yes. But why?
The cane she’d picked up soon after waking and finding how much she’d aged, it taps the pavement with each step, breaking through the silence that follows her. ]
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Unwelcome concern tugs at his heart as he sees her approach- she's so old.So old. So many years separating them. He swallows, and waits for her to come to him. This is her silence- let her break it. ]
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When she stops, there’s but a few feet separating them. Her fingers tighten over the top of her cane. She tilts her head to meet his eye, gaze searching his face. What does she say? Are you well? Are you eating? Does she reach out for him?
Physically? No, not yet. With the Force? Yes, like a gentle brush against his jaw. ]
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She is his mother. It sits within him, that knowledge- heavy, solid, immutable.
She is his mother, and a part of him will always ache for the comfort she had once been able to give him, when he was small and didn't yet understand that comfort wasn't for people like him.
He meets her eyes. Forces himself to. He is firm and strong, he is the power she feared would destroy him.
And he is tired. Hollow and lost. He is both these things. But neither side of the struggle under his skin flinches away from her as she reaches out for him through the Force. ]
I'm here.
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Now, here, Leia gives a faint smile, grateful that he doesn't pull away or push back her touch with the Force. ]
As am I.
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You wanted to see me. Are you satisfied?
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[ Leia doesn't want him to run from her. Although she and Han were the ones to push him away, him running from her is the last thing she wants right now. She doesn't have much time, she knows this, and perhaps...he knows this as well. Things cannot go unresolved between them.
A small step closer is taken, her focus as unwavering as his as she watches him. ]
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For Kylo Ren, this is almost a test. ]
Then what is it you want from me?
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[ And now she has. It's been too long. Fleeting brushes with the Force, she needs more than that, but Leila won't push him. She knows they've hugged, her younger self, from the past. How unfair is it that it's been what feels like ages since she'd had such an opportunity. ]
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[ There's a very slight tremble at the edge of his voice. The storm raging under his skin whirls and tumbles, very barely contained by the unnatural rigidity of his stance, the steeled resolve in every muscle and sinew that holds him together. ]
Do you see him now?
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Of course I do. Ben—
[ Not thinking, just acting on her emotions and what she can sense from him, Leia reaches out for his arm, a hand hopefully finding a place at his forearm. ]
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rages third time is a charm
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