deercountry | (no subject)

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.

Luke nodded at that, picking out two cups that didn't even come close to matching and setting them on the counter, before going to fish for some spoons and other things they would need.

"Anything else I can help with?"

Helping with Anakin was kind of what mattered. Even if she knew he meant in the kitchen. Ariadne shook her head. Her colors transformed again, going back to the way she usually was. And she picked up the tea kettle, bringing it over to the little table, where she knelt on the floor.

The Elves were a bit ceremonious about their tea, but she just poured it into the cups that Luke selected, setting the kettle down between them.

She was actually feeling a lot better. About a lot of things.

"I think," she said thoughtfully. "That it's long past time you told me another story. Maybe a cheery one?" She'd done enough crying for a good ten years.

Luke happily settled down, watching her work with a faint smile on his face. He glanced up at the suggestion of a story, before frowning to himself, stirring the tea as he tried to think of something cheerful that had happened in the last four years. There certainly hadn't been much, especially in the time between Bespin and the second Death Star.

"I could... tell you a story that ends hopefully, of how I ended up joining the Rebellion against the Empire," he began. "It take a long time to get there, though. Or, hm..."

He stuck his tongue in his cheek, trying to think. Cymoon had been dreadful, and his bumbling through Nal Hutta after that even worse.

"...or I could tell you about Han, and the time he gambled away our funds for the Rebellion?" he added. "That... ends kind of embarrassingly, though."

He paused again, frowning to himself. "...I don't think you want to hear about me getting conned into being a snack for an alien hive queen, even if that does have a happy ending."

She tried. She tried so, so hard. But in the end, she couldn't stop herself. She laughed. Not out of cruel intent, of course. It was only that they'd just gone on an emotional ride. And somehow, she hadn't expected to end up talking about Luke as some kind of 'snack.'

Weakly, she nodded, trying to cover her mouth with her fingers. "Oh, I think I kind of do want to hear about it," she said.

Her eyes glimmered like coins in a fountain.

Luke smiled slightly at that, happy to hear her laugh, even if it was at his expense. He leaned forward slightly, as if to draw in the fact that this was a for real story, and not anything he made up... because honestly, he was still trying to figure out everything that had happened during all of this, and if they hadn't collectively hallucinated the whole thing.

"So, there was an archeologist that used to be contracted out to my father -- her name is Doctor Aphra, and she's still alive, last I checked," he began. "After she split from my father, she got in contact with me. She had a crystal that had the consciousness of an ancient Jedi inside, and said she knew someone that would be able to unlock it and allow me to use it."

He paused, making a face at himself. "I was desperate for a teacher; Obi-Wan had died a year ago, and my efforts to try and find relics of the past and teach myself were only marginally successful. Learning from an ancient Jedi sounded like it was the best thing I could ever hope for, so I accepted."

Reasonable enough. Ariadne nodded. "I would have done the same thing, if someone offered me an Alastrian relic." No matter who they might have been aligned with. But she decided to ignore that part, because Anakin had already interfered enough with her day. She needed space from him and his horrible shadow.

She took a small sip of her tea, settling down, tucking her feet under her.

"I take it things did not go according to plan?"

"Oh, they went according to plan, just not my understanding of the plan," Luke replied, that sourness creeping into his voice again. "We needed to go to this place called Ktath’atn; the queen there only saw people once every year, to see if people could please her interest with something new and exciting -- Aphra put it she was 'very old and very bored'. Considering how scarce Jedi had become, she thought presenting me would get an audience with the queen."

He made a face; now that he was saying it out loud, he was seeing all the red flags that he should have back then. Hindsight and all that.

"It was the first time I had ever worn a suit, and even then, Aphra presented me as 'a farmboy from Tatooine' just because she knew it would get a rise out of people and lead to me demonstrating my abilities in order to protect us, even if it was by accident. It worked way too well; everyone was immediately dismissed except for the two of us."