Private Bridges and Binds

[Briana Sal-Soren]

The first spring breeze had whipped through her open window to waken her an hour earlier, carrying with it the balmy scents from the Estates garden below. Rominara flowers and poplar trees just beginning to flower again.

The last of the snow had finally begun to melt the week before, and by the time she’d finished devouring her light breakfast of nuna eggs and bacon, washed down with a heady cup of tea, the pale stone of her bedroom banister was dusted in tiny white flower petals and golden pollen. Signs of renewal.

It was a strange juxtaposition, given that she felt anything but renewed.

“Make your father proud.”

Brandyn’s words had struck her hard, playing on an endless loop ever since she’d left Crait. For him, of all people, to throw their father in her face? After everything they’d survived together… after everything they’d fought so hard to reclaim…

Perhaps, that was just the nature of their relationship now, forever tarnished, both of them cursed to eternally doubt the other because of the missteps they’d both taken after their parents deaths — a deep scar that would be ever present in their dynamic, no matter how hard either of them fought to regain some state that might resemble something close to normalcy.

Briana exhaled slowly and frowned at the hilt of her brother's lightsaber resting on the wooden nightstand, the physical manifestation and reminder of their rift, then reached out and drained the last remnants of her tea to the dregs, unable to stare at it any longer.

The day had barely begun, and already her mind was heavy with thoughts she had no space for, among everything else.

Scooping up her dishes, Briana padded her way towards the kitchen. She could figure out what to do about her brother, later.

Sera was already preparing for lunch at the worktable, but paused as she made to take Briana’s dishes until she waved her off. “I can wash them,” she told her by way of greeting. Up to her elbows in some sort of meat pie, the android gave Briana a soft smile and left her to it. She’d always been a droid of very few words, graceful in the way that her mother had been.

“The poplar trees are finally blooming,” Briana observed rather pointlessly, peering out the kitchen window at the garden beyond as she rinsed off her plate, fork, and cup.

Sera laid an ornate lattice crust atop the pie and began carefully pinching the edges together, making quick and deft work of it. “Mmmh, yes. I noticed earlier. Spring is in full swing. It’ll be nice to have fresh flowers in the house again,” she responded softly. “Your mother always loved this time of year.”

The mention of her mother sent a fresh pang through Briana’s chest, though she kept her features cool and in check, methodically drying each hand on a nearby towel, trying to push away the sudden flood of memories before they could marinate her mind and remind her of all the moment’s she’d taken for granted. “She did,” Briana managed after a soft swallow. “Always made sure every vase was filled the moment the first blooms popped.”

It was still strange, remembering that her mother had been gone for almost three years now. Stranger still, to imagine what life might be like were she still living and breathing. Would she be proud of the paths her children were taking, or ashamed and embarrassed? Mercifully, that particular line of thought was interrupted before she could travel any further down the trail, feeling her awareness pulled in another direction when out of nowhere, the echo of him, burst across her consciousness. The minute his foot crossed the threshold of the Estates gates, the warmth of everything he was, cast down the reforming mental link in announcement of his arrival.

Vizion.

She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts, so exhausted from the previous weeks day and all it'd entailed, that she’d already forgotten of his promise, his plan to stop by so they could finally have that long-overdue ‘talk’ they kept pushing back.

"Kriff," she muttered under her breath.

| TAG: Vizion Trozky |

​

 

[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

The promise of spring was beyond welcome this morning as Vizion made tracks from his apartment in the planetary capital of Theed, out to the Gallo Mountains where the large estate Briana called home was located. An expansive property she lived in, alone at times, with only Sera for company.

It gnawed at him, this breadth of months, seeing abundantly how she had taken the death of the Hapan Prince he’d only learned of, by virtue of news coverage, was an old flame. With how much more unresolved pain she was likely carrying around… one evening wouldn’t have made much of a dent at all. At least not in that.

But it messed with him. That one night changed his trajectory, despite the evening’s outcome. It put a pause in the direction of his thoughts that wondered, perhaps, if he should take a page from the Jedi of old after nothing had worked out in his personal life for as long as it had. He’d had enough to fill his days - was it worth it, was it a good idea to split his attention? Was he even meant to?

All he knew was how inexplicably certain it felt, being with her. Clear alignment. The most sense his life had made in too long, and that was a hell of a thing to untangle when the imagery of her had hardly fled his mind since. Was it just in his head?

A weak sense of her grew stronger the closer he got to the gates, slipping through and making for the door. They had to talk. He couldn’t keep existing like this, as if they had never been anything to each other. As if nothing had ever happened. As if he wouldn’t give a damn if she had been hurting.

Soon enough, the buzzer rang, and he waited, pulling the strap of his bag over his head to hang on one shoulder. He didn’t know how long he’d be out here, but if he had to come all the way out here, it could be a good chunk of the day, so he brought his day with him, more or less.

Maybe it’d be overkill. Maybe not.

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

​

She'd waited by the door the moment she saw him coming up the parapet, steeling herself whatever this conversation, or more accurately, this confrontation, might bring.

Months had passed since the last time they'd really spoken. Not just shared pleasantries in the Temple halls, or awkward exchanges about the weather, but words that actually meant something — passing one another like shadows in the night.

After that night, she'd suggested they both take some time apart to gain some semblance of clarity, once the haze of lust and passion had faded. She'd been in a bad spot at the time — and still was, if she was being honest; chasing down distractions in whatever form they came to drown out the creeping thoughts whenever she slowed down. She'd wanted to protect the both of them, to keep them from falling into a rhythm that could only end in pain.

That'd happened anyway.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions, or something like that. Even when she was trying, she had a knack for driving the people she cared about away, or loosing them to something worse, for good.

Up until Crait, Briana convinced herself that what'd happened between them was the end of it. One night was all they'd have, and she'd have to carry it. Finally, she'd hammered the last nail into the coffin of whatever was left of their relationship, their friendship. But, then he'd surprised her, standing by her at the conclave, telling her he was ready to talk and have that conversation she never thought would happen.

The timing of it could have been better.

Briana slid her hands over the slate blue fabric of the jumpsuit she'd hurriedly thrown on, catching her reflection in the corridor mirror as the buzzer went off. A flash of tired eyes, her hair still slightly damp, but pulled half way back and curling over her shoulders, jaw set in a way that made her think of her mother whenever she was bracing for bad news.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, unhinging her jaw and trying to relax herself, gathering up the dredges of her composure and whatever pieces of herself she could haphazardly tape together.

Pressing her palm flat to the sensor after a few heartbeats, the door finally opened.

Vizion stood on the other side, as damnably handsome as ever, with a bag casually slung over his shoulder and looking a tinge as uncertain as she felt. There was an odd sense of comfort in that.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, tried on a smile. "Hey," she managed, stepping back just enough to make way for him to come inside. "You made it." As if this was just any other day.

TAG: Vizion Trozky

​

 

[Vizion Trozky]

EMERALD HEIGHTS
GALLO MOUNTAINS ☛ NABOO

He waited at the door, but he didn't end up waiting for very long. Either she was attentive… or she had been waiting, but two instances of being greeted at this door, months apart, weren't enough to make any kind of assumption about that.

Least of all when the differences were so stark.

The last time Vizion had been here, Briana had made herself presentable — she had been for the entirety of that day. First, she wore a mask he saw through when meeting him at the spaceport; later, she was very much dressed to kill and he was, in the end, a willing victim, all too easily coerced into acting in ways he didn’t… or ways he never used to act.

That one night changed him in ways he needed to change to find the answers to questions he was left with. Questions that he had to ask of himself, and information he needed to gather about whether he could handle whatever path his relationship with Briana might take.

All that effort, all that searching within and without himself wasn’t in vain, though it all led him right back around to where he was now, looking at her, wearing no mask or armour at all, as if she had just rolled out of bed not long before opening the door. As if she was that girl he used to know, and knew far better. As if she was done hiding from him.

A half smile warmed his face at the sight, but his brow lightly furrowed at her uncertainty, felt as much as seen in her attempt at a smile. Vizion let the bag slip from his shoulder to rest in the doorway with a light thud, and stepped inside only enough to pull her to him, enveloping her in a strong embrace. He could wait to escape from the spring chill for a moment or two longer.

“Hey," he breathed, low and soft. It didn’t matter if any of that was true of her, or not. He knew where he stood. “Sorry it took so long.”

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

The moment his arms wrapped around her, Briana found herself leaning into it, arms sliding around his waist to embrace him in turn and let the perceived tension between them fade in the breadth of that simple action.

No words were said right away, though there were several questions that'd flitted through her mind in the short span of a millisecond.

Most of them centered around his whereabouts these last months, wondering how much he knew about what'd happened on Hapes, and where his mind was now, since the last they'd spoken? Did he forgive her? Briana debated asking him but, breathing in the faint scent of pine needles, clean linen, and spice, feeling his warmth? ... She wasn't sure she cared about the details, not when his presence felt like a soothing balm being lavishly applied to some deeply wounded part of her soul, in desperate need of relief.

“Don’t apologize,” she murmured, arms tightening around him as she let herself settle, rested. “I’m just glad you’re here, now.” For all of the anxiety she’d felt after seeing him walking up that parapet, she realized she meant it, completely.

When she finally pulled back, it was only enough to meet his eyes, her hands still loosely resting at his side. "Sorry, I..." she shook her head and let her arms drop, adjusting herself accordingly and tucking a sable curl behind the curve of her ear, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile as she stepped fully back, widening the door for him.

"Come on in." Briana offered, "I was just cleaning up from breakfast, but I could have Sera make you something if you're hungry? I know there's at least some tea still sitting, or if you want to warm up, there's a fire going in the common room."

The attempt to subtly ease them into a gentle rhythm before confronting the difficult conversations the day would inevitably bring, clearly apparent.

TAG: Vizion Trozky

​