deercountry | (no subject)

She caught his scent and turned to watch him approach. And it was an absolute delight to see the way that he looked around at her trees. Clearly, even if he was from a desert, he respected plants.

And it pleased her very much.

Pulling her hood down off of her hair, she walked to meet him, her cheeks and the tip of her nose a little pink (maybe more purple) in the cold. "You found us!" She turned to glance back at her pear tree. "You see, Sophia? I told you he would."

Oh yes. She talked to her trees. Sometimes, they were the best listeners in town.

Not the best at giving advice, though.

Luke did not find that the least bit odd, either -- look, the Force moved through all living things. Just because he couldn't hear or understand something's voice through normal means, didn't mean it didn't have one. Instead, he smiled, reaching a hand out as if to assure Sophia that he had made it, before turning his attention to her.

"Sorry if it took me awhile," he said. "I'm still trying to get used to where everything is."

"It doesn't help that there aren't any maps," she said. "Although, I guess, I can understand why. Sort of."

Really, it was taking a lot of effort on her part not to draw out maps of her own, every time she wandered through the streets, trying to become more familiar with the town. But if that fell into the wrong hands...well...people might get upset with her. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for leading some disaster to anyone's front door.

And as much as she liked Trench, there were plenty of potential disasters around.

"Anyway," she said, stepping back, gesturing broadly with her arm. "Welcome. These are my trees." She pointed to each of them in rapid succession. "Sophia, Jane, Toby, Araceli, Morgan, Dagmar, Sara, Tyler, Zabrina, Alison, and Kevin." She turned back to Luke with a smile. "I named them myself."

Luke nodded gently in agreement, though he couldn't help but feel... preoccupied. It definitely felt like Airy was stalling, like her thoughts were focusing on him, but also... elsewhere, troubled. He kept his attention on her, could almost feel it in how she moved, but he said nothing, instead letting her show off her love for the trees around them.

A soft smile came to his face as he followed where she was pointing with his eyes, before he politely inclined his head.

"Hello, all of you," he said to the trees, before tossing her one of his soft smiles.

It was nice of him to do that, to treat the trees like people. Many others, Sleepers and natives alike, laughed at her. If not in front of her face, that definitely behind her back, when they thought she couldn't hear.

Luke was different.

And she was going to have to keep reminding herself of that fact, again and again. In light of what... Well, it was still kind of strange to think of Anakin as a father, let alone his father. Completely different temperaments, for one thing.

Also, Luke was much more appealing.

"Unfortunately, they're the only ones really thriving in this weather. I don't have enough experience with greenhouses to build my own. But when the weather turns, I'm hoping to plant tea and vervain and maybe even some flowers."

Luke shrugged casually at that.

"I could help," he began. "Build a greenhouse, I mean. They're not much different than the herbarium my aunt kept, just on a larger scale. The hard part would be scavenging for parts."

Besides, it would be a warm day on Hoth before he turned down the opportunity to build something. He found himself reaching out again, placing a hand on Sophia again and feeling the life humming beneath his fingers. He definitely would be remiss if he missed out on the chance to bring even more green to the area as well.

"It might be best to wait until the weather is warmer regardless, if only to make it easier to build," he continued, letting his hand drop as he turned back to her.

She looked suitably impressed. "You can build things out of glass? That's...incredible. I mean, I've always thought there was something kind of magical about glass. A stone you can see through. I guess because where I grew up, we didn't have much in the way of glass. When I moved to Valeria, I remember I used to spend hours looking at windows. Especially ones with stained glass. It was just so beautiful..."

And she realized, then, that she had probably just said more than she'd said at whole parties and balls. Maybe she was rambling. It was all true, of course. But it was just tumbling out.

Shaking her head, she gestured to the house. "Would you like to come inside? I can't really cook, but I do know how to make tea. To warm up."

Luke couldn't help but smile as she started rambling; he enjoyed it when she started rambling like that, if only because it always seemed like she was in another world, seeing it as visibly as if she were actually there. When she pulled herself out of it, shaking his head to assure her it was fine, before casually coming to her side as they started toward the house.

"I never say no to tea," he assured her. "As for glass... well, it's superheated sand, and a few other things. I've never made it before, but I have an idea how to do it."

"Sand?" She smiled, shaking her head. It made absolutely no sense to her. But she supposed he would know.

With a brief brush against the back of his hand, she led him into the house. The lower level was a great room, with high windows and hardwood floors. She'd begun to arrange tables and shelves and cabinets with the few dried herbs she'd managed to collect over the fall. It wasn't exactly a shop yet, but it was a start.

In the corner was a tight, spiral staircase made of metal. She trotted up and around, her feet so light that she barely made a sound. Up on top was Ariadne's apartment. It was small--only one room--with more high windows. She didn't have a lot of furniture. A four-poster bed, with gossamer canopy, and a low wooden table surrounded by pillows in bright jewel tones. "Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the area around the table.

Luke followed behind her, not intentionally trying to match her light steps, but ended up doing so anyway. He paused at the entrance, peering around at the cute and small surroundings, before following after and moving to take a seat, though he hesitated in sitting down.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just stay close. I was banished from the palace kitchens, back home. For a...small fire." Not that she thought she was really going to cause another one. She knew how to boil tea, after all.

She went over to her little kitchenette, swirling off her cloak and folding it up on the countertop, before she started preparing the kettle. Underneath, she was wearing a plain, white cotton dress, laced up both sides, under either arm, with brown leather thongs. It made her look willowy thin. Of course, it didn't help that she'd more or less lost her appetite, over the last few days.

For all of her talk, there were no mishaps as she lit the stove.

"Did you...enjoy Life Day?"

Luke frowned slightly at how thin she was, that feeling that something was wrong nudging at his mind even stronger than before. He glanced up at her question, a bit surprised, though the frown remained.

"I mostly kept to myself; it took me some time to realize 'Life Day' and 'Christmas' were generally the same thing," he replied, before he finally let out a breath, blurting out what he should have asked earlier:

"Are you all right?"

She stared down at the tea kettle, carefully lighting the flame underneath it. It wasn't that she was actually afraid of starting another fire--she was extremely cautious when it came to fine of any kind. More, it was a slight stall, as she debated how to answer his question.

The old her would have lied.

But Ariadne was beginning to separate her past from her present. And was surprised at how much easier it made life, connection, even...family.

So no. No lying. But she did have to choose her words carefully.

"I have a friend here named Dean," she said. "He's...like an older brother. We've always looked out for each other. But the thing is...I kind of failed him recently. He was killed. And there was no way for me to stop it."

A number of emotions ran over Luke's face, worry and concern and clearly being upset and everything else. His mouth worked a number of times, trying to come up with something more significant than I'm sorry, while also dealing with the absolute dread over the uncomfortable sense that he already knew who was responsible.

"...my father?" he asked softly.

It probably shouldn't have surprised her all that much. Luke was very smart. And intimately familiar with the situation.

And Obi-Wan probably treated him like an adult. Whereas she constantly felt like he saw her as a child.

Well, it wasn't like she was going to lie to him now. She nodded slightly. "Someone told your father some horrible lies about Dean. And he just..." She could feel warmth behind her eyes and she had to push it back. No more crying. She refused to let herself cry again. "...killed him for it. And I wasn't there and it's my fault..."

Luke felt like he'd just been stabbed, and he ran a hand over his face, pausing to rub at his temples. This hurt his heart, knowing that his father was just such a mess even before he was Vader, that he didn't even know where to start with helping him heal. Right now, though, the only thing he could do was try to comfort his victims, and the people affected outside of that.

He stood then, going over to her and holding her by her arms.

"Airy, it isn't your fault," he urged her gently. "Don't blame yourself for my father's actions. It was probably better that you weren't there."

He didn't know this Dean, but just going off of what Airy already said about how Anakin treated her... he could guess that Dean's fate might have been even worse than just death.

"I could have saved him." The unspoken truth of it being that she would have sacrificed herself to save the man who had become the older brother she always wanted. She would have let Anakin kill her before hurting him.

In truth, she would have let Anakin kill her before hurting anyone. Or, almost anyone, maybe.

That was just the way she thought. And fought. And was prepared to lead her life.

Her head fell heavily, her hair hiding her face as she struggled to keep those tears in check. It would be completely embarrassing to cry in front of a Jedi. And Luke's opinion mattered to her a great deal.

Luke let out a heavy breath, bowing his head as well. This was just... such a mess; part of him wanted to be sour at his father, to call him out on the terrible person that he was, but he didn't have the heart for it. He had already resolved to drag him back from the Dark that had consumed him, and that wouldn't change just because his father was younger here. Stars help him, though; he never would have thought of Vader as more rational than his past self, but...

He shook the thought away after a moment, reaching under Airy's veil of hair and gently cupping the side of her face with his hand.

"You both would have died," he said honestly, before shaking his head again. "Airy, I'm not very familiar with 'Anakin Skywalker', but I know Darth Vader. I know the man he becomes. I watched him destroy two whole fighter squadrons and an entire Rebel base, by himself, just in an effort to capture me."

He broke off a moment, letting out a shuddering breath. "I... don't need to have known my mother to know that he would have done worse for her sake, even for the sake of someone he sees as her."

She looked up at the unexpected (although, truthfully not unwelcome) touch of his hand. If nothing else, they both understood that Anakin wanted blood. She had no idea what 'two whole fighter squadrons and an entire Rebel base' meant, but it was probably a large number of lives lost.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of Deans.

"I'm not her," she said, on a slight exhale, because Luke, at least, understood that part. "I'm not a great senator. I'm not a diplomat. I'm not even Human." Anakin knew all of that, of course. And he knew how she fought.

How dangerous she was, as well.

"I don't know how many other ways I can make that clear to him. He's seen my real face. Which..." Luke hadn't, had he?

Luke smiled gently; he wasn't sure if she had outright said as much -- too much had happened, and between the place itself messing with him, it was hard to keep track of everything -- but he had gotten the impression this wasn't her true form. It didn't bother him, and the soft shake of his head was his way of saying she didn't need to elaborate if she didn't want to.

"I know you're not," he said softly. "And even he may not, but he's a stubborn man that doesn't know when to give up. At all."

A bit of sourness may have crept into his voice at that last bit, but Airy probably wouldn't blame him for being annoyed with his father. The man had been miserable as he knew him, and attempted to make his life miserable as well, but not all of it had been his fault. There was the whole issue of Obi-Wan and Yoda not being honest with him from the start as to what happened to his father, and blaming his recklessness for leading to him not being ready for the burden of the truth.

But Airy didn't need all that dumped on her, so he held it back, instead gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Let me talk to my father, when he recovers from his fall," he urged her gently. "I will do everything I can to get him to back off."

"Do you think he will?" she asked. "Recover, that is."

It was in her nature to expect the very best. To have a sunny and optimistic outlook. But she lacked the right information to truly understand the Force. And maybe she was also a little stubborn about it herself.

Which was entirely due to her inability to comprehend the things Obi-Wan Kenobi said about attachment. That just made no sense.

But as for Anakin, she certainly liked the idea of him getting better. Still, that wouldn't undo what had happened. Dean still had been traumatized. And she'd nearly gone off on a rampage of her own. Recovery would be...tricky.

Luke's gentle expression turned a little sad at that.

"I've already saved him from the Dark once," he said softly. "When the Emperor tried to kill me, the love he had for me brought him back. I know I can do the same again. I believe in the goodness in him, and I'm not going to give up on that."

He let out a faint laugh at that, shrugging his shoulders slightly, before letting them slump a little.

"I guess I'm as stubborn as he is," he continued. "But I know he can recover; I've seen him do it once, he can do it again, no matter how hard it will be."

And no matter how much he had to help him and his victims heal along the way.

Somehow, Luke believing it made Ariadne believe it too. She was sure that Obi-Wan wouldn't approve of 'love,' like that. But Alastrians? Alastrians were terribly fond of all three types of love. It was what held their society together. Or, at least, what did hold their society together once. Before they were hunted down and destroyed like animals.

"I believe you," she said.

And right then, of course, the tea kettle let out a piercing whistle, as if to remind them of its presence in the room. Smiling meekly, Ariadne turned to get it, but paused before she really stepped away from Luke.

She was Alastrian. Her entire soul was Alastrian, up to and including her deep belief in the power of love. She couldn't hide it from herself. So, she supposed, she couldn't hide it from him either. So she changed. Standing right there next to him.

It wasn't dramatic, exactly. More like waves of heat rising off of a warm pavement. The colors of her form rippled and changed, swirling like a wet water color. And when it stopped, Ariadne was in her natural form: Skin green as the underside of a maple leaf, hair blue like candy floss, her lips dark lavender.

Luke jumped slightly when the tea kettle went off, realizing he was just seconds away from doing something to help her that... probably would have been really stupid now that he was thinking on it. He flushed in embarrassment, though that quickly disappeared into a look of awe as she changed before him; he had never seen anything in the galaxy quite like her, yet still by other species standards she was almost... plain. More human-like despite the almost Twi'lek skin coloring than anything else.

She was still beautiful too.

He smiled warmly at her show of trust, letting his hand drop in favor of wrapping both of his around hers, giving them a squeeze, before letting go, allowing her to tend to the tea kettle.

"Where do you keep your cups?" he asked, moving to help.

She flushed slightly purple, but Luke's reaction was the best possible reaction she could have hoped for: Practically none.

Not that she'd doubted him. Everyone from that world seemed uninterested in her skin. But it was reassuring.

And it made her squeeze his hands in return. She would wait a while, before telling him just what that meant in her culture. No need to overwhelm the poor man.

"The cabinet behind the stove," she said, stepping back to go to the kettle. "I'm not sure I have two that match. Pick whichever ones you like." It hardly mattered.