[Each time he leaves and each time he returns, it seems to be a pattern. A new bump or bruise or scar to mark the passage of time and what it is that they have-had- all been fighting for. She would ask after each story in those quiet moments of peace between them, moments that had been too few and too far apart.
It is his face though that Padmé stays honed on, as if seeking and searching for the man she hadn't understood on Mustafar. The smile alone could break her heart in its genuineness. There is no darkness there floating around the edges, no hatred or anger to turn those eyes cold and hard. No rage that could bring tears to her eyes, although they come anyway. Exhaustion, physical and mental, for simply being removed from the situation does not erase all that had happened.
... that will happen?
It's a soft chime within her mind, a puzzle piece possibly falling in to place, although Padmé cannot say that she is certain. Words have just been words so far, information provided to her by strangers, and while she does not simply write it off, she also does not accept it at face value.
A shake of her head as her gaze drops to her hands, still holding that japor snippet between her fingers. A token from before the dark times, a token that seemingly has followed her to this place. Yet with a soft breath, her eyes once more rise to meet his own.]
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It is his face though that Padmé stays honed on, as if seeking and searching for the man she hadn't understood on Mustafar. The smile alone could break her heart in its genuineness. There is no darkness there floating around the edges, no hatred or anger to turn those eyes cold and hard. No rage that could bring tears to her eyes, although they come anyway. Exhaustion, physical and mental, for simply being removed from the situation does not erase all that had happened.
... that will happen?
It's a soft chime within her mind, a puzzle piece possibly falling in to place, although Padmé cannot say that she is certain. Words have just been words so far, information provided to her by strangers, and while she does not simply write it off, she also does not accept it at face value.
A shake of her head as her gaze drops to her hands, still holding that japor snippet between her fingers. A token from before the dark times, a token that seemingly has followed her to this place. Yet with a soft breath, her eyes once more rise to meet his own.]
No. No, there isn't. There is only you.