After all those years of working with 3PO and being around R2, she was completely prepared for the performance of the adorable little droid, who did seem somewhat similar to various models she'd encountered in her previous life. Nothing had been quite like this though, and she couldn't help but wonder what else had changed so starkly since she'd gone into hiding. Aside from the obvious, of course.
"Oh no, that must have been horrible," she sympathized with a sincerity borne from her lifetime of political dealings, stepping nearer to lean in and get a closer look. "I could take care of that for you, if you'd like." Turning to Poe, she added, "My home really isn't far. You could both get your bearings there before deciding how to proceed."
It was stupid to offer, she knew that full well, but where so much of her had died that day on Mustafar, this one piece lived on. She couldn't deny her need to help, to make someone else's life better as she was able. So she made the offer and prayed to the gods of far away Naboo that this choice wouldn't be the death of what little she had left.
Poe just nodded once, glancing down at the droid as that dome tilted back as if to ask him what he thought, "Okay." And then to her, just as warmly as before: "Thank you. Truly. We weren't expecting to find anyone out here."
Though that was mostly because by all reports the planet was no longer inhabited, and that was something he was going to puzzle over later, hoping that he'd just managed to find a different planet than he'd been aiming for in that last desperate jump.
"I wasn't expecting someone to crash their ship next to my home," she replied easily, a bit of humor slipping into the words. "It seems a day for surprises."
She never had visitors out this way. Once, from one of the older women at the nearby farm who had seen her light in the distance one night, but she'd carefully made the woman aware that she preferred her privacy and had since been left on her own. Any concern for the widow on the far edge of the settlement was now expressed solely during her days in the village, for which she was always openly grateful.
Gesturing in the direction she'd come, she added, "It's just this way." It would be nightfall soon, and it would be better for everyone if they were out of the forest by then.
That was something that most forests had in common, Poe had come to learn. Even on Yavin 4 even though it was technically a jungle, perhaps a rainforest, it was better to be inside once the sun went down and before planetrise, as the gas giant itself did provide enough light to see by, though it wasn't the same as the actual sun.
"Lead the way." He replied, gesturing and shouldering the bag of supplies and the projector once more, though once they'd started walking he added: "Though maybe you can at least tell me how far off my calculations were, we were aiming for D'Qar."
"D'Qar?" The name made her falter, her attention diverted enough from where she was walking that she stumbled slightly, catching herself against one of the trees. She hoped he didn't notice the higher pitch in her voice, the planet he mentioned one very familiar to her. It was so near to Naboo, it couldn't not be.
"We're a few dozen parsecs from Dantooine, D'Qar is practically on the other side of the galaxy." How had he possibly managed to get so far off course? Had his ship been that badly damaged even before the crash?
That revelation had both Poe and the droid drawing up short, a series of expressions crossed Poe's face, confusion and disbelief followed by a sort of puzzled resignation, glancing at the droid who'd made a concerned hoot, "Yeah, I guess we might have gotten that wrong. We were kind of in a hurry, might have transposed some numbers in the jump calculations."
Though that wasn't the kind of thing he did even when he was distressed. He supposed there was a first time for everything.
Transposing numbers for jumps to hyperspace wasn't something that happened, especially not when a droid did the calculations. Not to this degree. There had to be other factors involved, otherwise it just didn't make sense.
Glancing between the two of them for a moment in concern, she tried to come up with an explanation and failed terribly. "That could have ended very badly for you. I'm glad you're both alright." And despite having just met them, it was true.
It didn't, not really, mostly because that was a surefire way to drop oneself into a black hole or the middle of a planet, though most automated hyperspace engines and calculation systems knew what coordinates planets were at and to avoid them, but there were plenty of other mishaps that could easily have happened.
Mostly because Poe didn't think his calculations had been wrong, but that still didn't explain how he'd ended up here.
"Guess we got lucky." He said, sounding a little puzzled, almost as if he were going over the calculations again in his head, and he might well have been, but there was an equal chance that he was trying to puzzle out where he'd seen her before.
"It would seem so," she murmured in agreement, wondering absently what Obi-Wan would say about such luck. Her old friend likely would have offered some wisdom about the Force and then added a quip that would have made them all smile. She missed him.
Continuing along the path, she quickened her pace slightly as the sky began to steadily darken above them, and a minute later the trees began to thin until they emerged at a clear stretch of land with a tiny stone cabin near the treeline. There was a small garden at the side of the house with a variety of herbs, a lean-to covering a pile of firewood prepared for the winter ahead, and despite clearly being old, there was something cozy about the little house. She'd worked hard over the years to make it somewhere she could find a small amount of solace.
The softer, more genuine smile returned at the sight of the homestead, it suited her in a way he couldn't quite quantify, but it was obvious that it was something that a lot of work had been put into, and it reminded him of his family homestead even despite the fact that the two looked nothing alike.
"Looks like you've been here a while." He said by way of observation, because while he wasn't positive that she was from somewhere else, the house seemed too new for her to have grown up in it, which didn't necessarily mean she wasn't a native, but was usually a good indication.
"A few years," she confirmed as they reached the front door, which she opened without the use of a key. There was no point in locking doors here, and she had little of value to be taken anyway. "After my husband died in the war, I needed a fresh start. A quiet life seemed best."
It was a patchwork of truths that were easy to craft into not quite a lie. Luckily, few of the locals had ever inquired too deeply into her past, the pain she still felt over Anakin's loss aiding in the deception. She let it show now as well, a weariness in her expression as she stepped into the house and then moved aside for her guests.
There wasn't much to the house. One large room that held a dining table chairs and a cluster of worn armchairs in front of the fireplace. A kitchen was off to the side of that room, herbs drying at the window, and there were two doors at the far end - one for the fresher and the other for a bedroom that was hardly more than a closet. It wasn't much, but it was more than many had, and just like the outside, she'd done her best to make it feel like a home.
He nodded, because he knew better than to ask questions about a statement like that, though mostly that was because it didn't even occur to him that her war and his -while essentially stemming from the same sequence of events- weren't the same war.
The first thing he said was: "Thank you. Not a lot of people would do this." That said, he set both the bag of supplies and the projector case down just inside the door, digging a cleaning cloth out of the supply bag, ready to wipe the smudge off of BB-8's dome, when the droid snatched the cloth with a manipulator claw and trundled over to Eirtaé with an entirely too forlorn hoot.
It was something that made Poe have to bite the inside of his cheek again to keep from laughing, though the smile was threatening to break through all the same.
The fact that other people wouldn't do it was exactly why she felt she had to. There had to be some good left in the galaxy, even if it was only of her own making. In times such as these, everyone needed reminding that there was something worth fighting for.
She very nearly laughed herself at the droid's dramatics, the performance utterly endearing. "I didn't forget," she offered as an assurance before kneeling down and taking the cloth. Getting right to work, she decided to share a little story that the droid might appreciate.
"You know, this isn't my first time cleaning up an astromech. That was almost two decades ago, when one saved my ship during an attack. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for R2, and I've had a fondness for astromech droids ever since." She leaned back, studying that spot on the dome that had been 'damaged', then smiled. "You're good as new."
Poe straightened at that particular designation, and BB-8 chirped a query. Certainly there were other R2 units out there, not just the one that the General had more or less in storage, hoping that Commander Skywalker would come back and claim it someday.
He was sure that some of those other units were likewise referred to as 'R2' with that same sort of fondness, but something still pushed him to ask: "R2-D2? White and blue? Silver trim? Likes setting things on fire?" That one he didn't know from personal experience, only from stories, but it didn't surprise him any given as how astromechs only had limited defenses to work with, it was part of why BB-8 took an arc welder to anything it perceived as being a threat.
Padmé was so at ease with the two of them that she didn't notice her slip until that inquiry was posed, and then-- Her facade slipped, the mask cracking to reveal affection at the pyrotechnic antics she remembered hearing about, followed quickly by a wash of fear across her expression. If he knew R2-D2, what else did he know? Who else? Had he known Anakin during the war? Had she been right to worry that the Empire had finally found her?
Standing, she stiffly turned toward the kitchen, her usual abilities completely abandoning her as she tried to convincingly explain away the misstep. "Yes, that's the one. I was fourteen at the time, and it's been years since our last meeting."
That just left Poe even more confused, having fallen still himself, running over mental calculations again, how old he thought she was against how long he knew R2 had been in low-power mode, hidden away and none of it was quite adding up.
What he finally said, a little quieter, genuinely confused, the kind that started to border on concern was: "I... get the feeling I'm a lot more lost than I first thought, and I realize that this is going to make me sound like I hit my head, but what year is it? Galactic standard, not local."
She'd been about to move into the kitchen proper and use the distraction of making tea to pull herself together when he... Well, when he asked what he did. And yes, it very much did sound like he'd hit his head, which left her worrying over injuries she couldn't possibly treat on her own.
"It's been four standard years since the formation of the Galactic Empire," she answered, glancing back at him over her shoulder with a concerned expression. It seemed the best measurement to use when she wasn't sure of his allegiances, and most of the village spoke in those terms regularly, leading her to believe the rest of the galaxy might as well.
He made a startled, choked little noise at that, and BB-8's dome spun around to look at her, giving the impression of reeling back in surprise just briefly before the droid rolled quickly to Poe's side, as if the pilot needed support due to the shock, "But then that's... but I'm... but... no."
It wasn't that he didn't believe her, the problem was that he did, and he knew that he wasn't going to live this down if it was some kind of prank orchestrated by Snap and Jess and the rest of them, but he didn't think it was that, either.
Very quietly, a moment later, he said: "I think I need to sit down."
Something was wrong. The concern Padmé was feeling swelled up like an ocean wave and she immediately moved to Poe's other side, her own worries completely out of mind. Her instincts had always been to look after others, and even after the end of her world, that hadn't change.
"Have a seat by the fireplace. I'll get a fire started, it's cold here at night." Keeping her tone calm and soothing, she raised a hand to his back and gestured toward the plush chairs with her other in an attempt to guide him over.
"I can do that." He said, sounding just a little distant, but something to focus on, something to do would help get him out of his head, even if it was only for a few minutes, "You were about to go do something, I think?"
She'd certainly been moving with a purpose when he'd asked the question that had yanked the metaphorical rug right out from under him, but that was one of the things he wasn't letting himself think about just yet, mostly just hoping that those whirling thought processes had settled a little bit by the time he got back to them.
"I'll make us something to drink," she confirmed gently with a nod, completely understanding the need for a few minutes to process everything happening. Whatever was the matter would keep until they were settled, and perhaps they'd both be better prepared to face it then.
With one last glance between her guests, she moved into the kitchen, navigating the space with relaxed ease. The kettle was filled and set to boiling, a canister of loose leaves and herbs taken down from a little shelf. She tried to focus on what she was doing, intending to give him the space he clearly needed, but her gaze wandered to him more than once.
Perhaps surprisingly, Poe actually knew what he was doing as far as starting a fire. Fire in a fireplace was different than a campfire, a little, and he knew how to do either. With a Pathfinder for a father, it would have been difficult for him not to know how to set a campfire properly, at least.
When BB-8 moved in to help, Poe said something quiet to the droid, gesturing towards the bag of supplies, which sent the little astromech off digging through it, coming up with a carefully secured package of koyo fruit, which it then trundled off into the kitchen with, apparently asking for a dish for them.
With the fire started, Poe finally peeled out of his jacket, leaving it hanging on the back of a chair, and while he was still reeling a little, his thoughts were no longer running around each other in circles. He was no closer to knowing what had happened, but he wasn't quite as overwhelmed by it.
"Thank you," she murmured to the little droid as she took the package, understanding the request despite her rusty binary. The tea had steeped by the time the fire was crackling to life, and with a deep breath, Padmé carefully carried the two cups and dish of fruit to the small table beside the chairs.
"Feeling better?" There was a knowing look in her eyes as she settled into a chair, wrapping her hands around her own cup. The tea was strong but soothing, and she hoped it would help him through this, whatever this was. He looked as if his world had just been upended and her heart went out to him for it.
He nodded a little, holding onto the cup much the same way, brow creasing just a little, "Still confused." He admitted, "But there's not much that losing my cool over it is going to help."
His brow creased then, rolling the cup slowly between his hands before taking a sip, looking at her once more, "I'm going to say something, and it's going to sound crazy, and I know it is, but it's the only thing that makes sense." He pressed the tip of his tongue against the edge of his teeth just briefly, as if he had to brace himself before continuing with: "I think I'm from the future. Or, I mean, this is the past, to me."
It does sound crazy. Completely crazy, like some of the holodramas that had been popular in her childhood. But the way he said it, the visible tells of his own struggle with the theory, leave her wondering if perhaps somehow it might be true.
"Tell me about this future." There's something of her old self in the words that were meant to be request and instead came out gentle order. Firm enough that she might be taking this as seriously as he seemed to be. Returning her cup to the table, she shifts in her seat, turning to better face him and curling her legs up onto the chair. He has her full attention.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Oh no, that must have been horrible," she sympathized with a sincerity borne from her lifetime of political dealings, stepping nearer to lean in and get a closer look. "I could take care of that for you, if you'd like." Turning to Poe, she added, "My home really isn't far. You could both get your bearings there before deciding how to proceed."
It was stupid to offer, she knew that full well, but where so much of her had died that day on Mustafar, this one piece lived on. She couldn't deny her need to help, to make someone else's life better as she was able. So she made the offer and prayed to the gods of far away Naboo that this choice wouldn't be the death of what little she had left.
no subject
Though that was mostly because by all reports the planet was no longer inhabited, and that was something he was going to puzzle over later, hoping that he'd just managed to find a different planet than he'd been aiming for in that last desperate jump.
no subject
She never had visitors out this way. Once, from one of the older women at the nearby farm who had seen her light in the distance one night, but she'd carefully made the woman aware that she preferred her privacy and had since been left on her own. Any concern for the widow on the far edge of the settlement was now expressed solely during her days in the village, for which she was always openly grateful.
Gesturing in the direction she'd come, she added, "It's just this way." It would be nightfall soon, and it would be better for everyone if they were out of the forest by then.
no subject
"Lead the way." He replied, gesturing and shouldering the bag of supplies and the projector once more, though once they'd started walking he added: "Though maybe you can at least tell me how far off my calculations were, we were aiming for D'Qar."
no subject
"We're a few dozen parsecs from Dantooine, D'Qar is practically on the other side of the galaxy." How had he possibly managed to get so far off course? Had his ship been that badly damaged even before the crash?
no subject
Though that wasn't the kind of thing he did even when he was distressed. He supposed there was a first time for everything.
no subject
Glancing between the two of them for a moment in concern, she tried to come up with an explanation and failed terribly. "That could have ended very badly for you. I'm glad you're both alright." And despite having just met them, it was true.
no subject
Mostly because Poe didn't think his calculations had been wrong, but that still didn't explain how he'd ended up here.
"Guess we got lucky." He said, sounding a little puzzled, almost as if he were going over the calculations again in his head, and he might well have been, but there was an equal chance that he was trying to puzzle out where he'd seen her before.
no subject
Continuing along the path, she quickened her pace slightly as the sky began to steadily darken above them, and a minute later the trees began to thin until they emerged at a clear stretch of land with a tiny stone cabin near the treeline. There was a small garden at the side of the house with a variety of herbs, a lean-to covering a pile of firewood prepared for the winter ahead, and despite clearly being old, there was something cozy about the little house. She'd worked hard over the years to make it somewhere she could find a small amount of solace.
no subject
"Looks like you've been here a while." He said by way of observation, because while he wasn't positive that she was from somewhere else, the house seemed too new for her to have grown up in it, which didn't necessarily mean she wasn't a native, but was usually a good indication.
no subject
It was a patchwork of truths that were easy to craft into not quite a lie. Luckily, few of the locals had ever inquired too deeply into her past, the pain she still felt over Anakin's loss aiding in the deception. She let it show now as well, a weariness in her expression as she stepped into the house and then moved aside for her guests.
There wasn't much to the house. One large room that held a dining table chairs and a cluster of worn armchairs in front of the fireplace. A kitchen was off to the side of that room, herbs drying at the window, and there were two doors at the far end - one for the fresher and the other for a bedroom that was hardly more than a closet. It wasn't much, but it was more than many had, and just like the outside, she'd done her best to make it feel like a home.
no subject
The first thing he said was: "Thank you. Not a lot of people would do this." That said, he set both the bag of supplies and the projector case down just inside the door, digging a cleaning cloth out of the supply bag, ready to wipe the smudge off of BB-8's dome, when the droid snatched the cloth with a manipulator claw and trundled over to Eirtaé with an entirely too forlorn hoot.
It was something that made Poe have to bite the inside of his cheek again to keep from laughing, though the smile was threatening to break through all the same.
no subject
She very nearly laughed herself at the droid's dramatics, the performance utterly endearing. "I didn't forget," she offered as an assurance before kneeling down and taking the cloth. Getting right to work, she decided to share a little story that the droid might appreciate.
"You know, this isn't my first time cleaning up an astromech. That was almost two decades ago, when one saved my ship during an attack. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for R2, and I've had a fondness for astromech droids ever since." She leaned back, studying that spot on the dome that had been 'damaged', then smiled. "You're good as new."
no subject
He was sure that some of those other units were likewise referred to as 'R2' with that same sort of fondness, but something still pushed him to ask: "R2-D2? White and blue? Silver trim? Likes setting things on fire?" That one he didn't know from personal experience, only from stories, but it didn't surprise him any given as how astromechs only had limited defenses to work with, it was part of why BB-8 took an arc welder to anything it perceived as being a threat.
no subject
Standing, she stiffly turned toward the kitchen, her usual abilities completely abandoning her as she tried to convincingly explain away the misstep. "Yes, that's the one. I was fourteen at the time, and it's been years since our last meeting."
no subject
What he finally said, a little quieter, genuinely confused, the kind that started to border on concern was: "I... get the feeling I'm a lot more lost than I first thought, and I realize that this is going to make me sound like I hit my head, but what year is it? Galactic standard, not local."
no subject
"It's been four standard years since the formation of the Galactic Empire," she answered, glancing back at him over her shoulder with a concerned expression. It seemed the best measurement to use when she wasn't sure of his allegiances, and most of the village spoke in those terms regularly, leading her to believe the rest of the galaxy might as well.
no subject
It wasn't that he didn't believe her, the problem was that he did, and he knew that he wasn't going to live this down if it was some kind of prank orchestrated by Snap and Jess and the rest of them, but he didn't think it was that, either.
Very quietly, a moment later, he said: "I think I need to sit down."
no subject
"Have a seat by the fireplace. I'll get a fire started, it's cold here at night." Keeping her tone calm and soothing, she raised a hand to his back and gestured toward the plush chairs with her other in an attempt to guide him over.
no subject
She'd certainly been moving with a purpose when he'd asked the question that had yanked the metaphorical rug right out from under him, but that was one of the things he wasn't letting himself think about just yet, mostly just hoping that those whirling thought processes had settled a little bit by the time he got back to them.
no subject
With one last glance between her guests, she moved into the kitchen, navigating the space with relaxed ease. The kettle was filled and set to boiling, a canister of loose leaves and herbs taken down from a little shelf. She tried to focus on what she was doing, intending to give him the space he clearly needed, but her gaze wandered to him more than once.
no subject
When BB-8 moved in to help, Poe said something quiet to the droid, gesturing towards the bag of supplies, which sent the little astromech off digging through it, coming up with a carefully secured package of koyo fruit, which it then trundled off into the kitchen with, apparently asking for a dish for them.
With the fire started, Poe finally peeled out of his jacket, leaving it hanging on the back of a chair, and while he was still reeling a little, his thoughts were no longer running around each other in circles. He was no closer to knowing what had happened, but he wasn't quite as overwhelmed by it.
no subject
"Feeling better?" There was a knowing look in her eyes as she settled into a chair, wrapping her hands around her own cup. The tea was strong but soothing, and she hoped it would help him through this, whatever this was. He looked as if his world had just been upended and her heart went out to him for it.
no subject
His brow creased then, rolling the cup slowly between his hands before taking a sip, looking at her once more, "I'm going to say something, and it's going to sound crazy, and I know it is, but it's the only thing that makes sense." He pressed the tip of his tongue against the edge of his teeth just briefly, as if he had to brace himself before continuing with: "I think I'm from the future. Or, I mean, this is the past, to me."
no subject
"Tell me about this future." There's something of her old self in the words that were meant to be request and instead came out gentle order. Firm enough that she might be taking this as seriously as he seemed to be. Returning her cup to the table, she shifts in her seat, turning to better face him and curling her legs up onto the chair. He has her full attention.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
only a decade late
shh shh is fine (and omfg popover menu sorry about that)