"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.
"Well for one thing? That Galactic Empire? Defeated, when I was two or three." He shifted his grasp of the cup to one hand so he could scratch at the back of his ear, not sure if telling her this would change things in the future, but he figured if that were the case, it already would have happened anyway, "Though, they're trying to come back, children of the Empire-that-was, wanting to bring back the former glory." The sarcasm in just that one word was practically thick enough to cut with a knife.
He didn't bother trying to explain that the Republic refused to see the First Order as an actual viable threat, because that was something that always frustrated him, and he was trying to keep this as uncomplicated as he could, "But they're going by a new name now, the First Order, and the Rebellion is still around, but since the Empire's using a new name, so are we, the Resistance. And being part of it, that's just... it's in my blood."
The Empire had been defeated. That singular thought echoed in her mind through all the rest of his words, nearly drowning out his talk of this First Order. Others would succeed where she had failed, and perhaps her children would--
"How far into the future is this?" There was an urgency in her tone that betrayed how desperate she was for the information, punctuated by the way she leaned in closer, barely able to resist reaching out to him. "How long does it take the Rebellion to succeed?"
"Thirty, give or take? From where I was before that half-calculated hyperspace jump, that is. So twenty-five or so before the Empire falls."
He was making a guess as to her alliances, but he was fairly certain that she wasn't an Empire sympathizer, if only because of how she'd treated BB-8, let alone taking the pair of them in when it probably would have been safer not to.
"Twenty..." The breathless murmur fell unbidden from her lips as she stared at him with wide eyes. Over two decades from now, the Empire would finally fall. It seemed like such a short time, yet it felt like a lifetime away. Twenty-five years of hiding herself away, being of no use to anyone. Twenty-five years of not knowing whether her children were alive or if she would ever see them again.
The tears that slide down her cheeks were startling, breaking the brief trance that had fallen upon her. She straightened slightly, steeling herself against the onslaught of emotions, and quickly and efficiently brushed the tears aside with the back of a hand.
He set his cup down, shifting forward in his seat a little, just far enough to catch her hand lightly between his own, he could understand that feeling of being unsettled, even distraught, and as she gathered herself again, he gave her hand a brief squeeze before sitting back again, picking up a slice of fruit to nibble at, if only because getting his blood-sugar back up after the shock was a good idea.
"It wasn't an easy road. I mean, I just know the history, not like I was there myself, not for the Empire, but I was for some of the aftermath, and definitely there for the First Order's rise." His brow furrowed a little then, debating, "There were a few splinter factions, they either did each other in or absorbed each other, but the First Order is the strongest of them."
It had been so long since she allowed herself to accept comfort from anyone, it felt almost strange to have Poe hold her hand. Strange and wonderful, his touch an anchor in a storm that she desperately needed, and she was so grateful to him for it.
Even after defeating the Empire, it wouldn't be over. There would be another thirty years of battles ahead, and who knew how many after that. The weight of it all threatened to crush her, and Padmé had to lean back against her seat to keep from feeling ill.
"I tried so hard to make the galaxy a better place," she said suddenly, more to herself than her companion. "To make it safer for my children." She gave a slight shake of her head, looking as utterly lost as she felt. "How could we have failed so terribly?"
"Thirty-some-odd years of mostly-peace isn't something to scoff at." He said, sounding earnest as anything, "And even then, something my ma' used to say was that even in the darkest of times you can find a light, and if you can't find it, it's up to you to be it."
A soft huff, amused, but not really a laugh, "And General Organa likes saying that if you can only believe in the sun when it's shining, you'll never make it through the night."
His mother sounded like a wise woman, like someone Padmé would have gotten along with well. Someone who got things done and didn't stop for any obstacle.
"General Organa?" She couldn't hide the effect the name had on her even if she tried. Immediately sitting up, she leaned across the space between them to grab Poe's arm, pleading with this man she'd only just met. "Do you mean Bail Organa of Alderaan?"
He was a little startled by that, but shook his head all the same, even as he placed his hand over hers on his arm, "No, his daughter. Leia." He didn't think he'd ever get used to using her name, mostly because she'd been 'the General' even when he was growing up, and using her given name just struck him as wrong.
The galaxy could have come to a crashing halt around them right that second and Padmé wouldn't have noticed. She barely even breathed, no longer feeling his hand on her own. "You know Leia? She's alive?"
Obi-Wan hadn't told her where he'd taken her children, the both of them agreeing it was safer that way, but it couldn't be a coincidence that Bail had a daughter sharing that name. Her dear friend had raised her child when she couldn't, and she would likely never be able to tell him how grateful she was.
His smile returned, broad and bright and open, "I know her, she's definitely still alive, she's my commanding officer. She's the one who sent me to check out D'Qar, see if there's anywhere we could drop a Resistance stronghold and have it stick."
There were stories of how the flora there would ensnare anything that held still long enough, and he was hoping they were exaggerations.
Leia, her tiny baby, following in her mother's footsteps to fight for the future of the galaxy. Could she really have expected any differently, especially when her little girl was to be raised by Bail?
"Is her-- Does she have any other family?" Leia would be a grown woman well into middle-age when Poe knew her. Perhaps she would have a family of her own, or maybe, somehow, she and Luke would find each other. It was dangerous to do so, but she couldn't help asking after her second child.
He had a better idea of who she actually was, now, and why he'd recognized her, but he wasn't going to call her out on it, not unless she brought it up herself, because it made sense now that she'd be in hiding.
While on the one hand he didn't want to lie to her, he also didn't think that telling her everything would do her any good either, and so he told part of the truth, "Yeah, got married to a smuggler, well, I mean, he was a general at the time too. A lot of people were then. Their son Ben and I were practically inseparable as kids." A shrug, "Then I went off to the Republic Academy and he went off to train with Commander Skywalker and we haven't really been in contact since." Especially when all he knew was that 'something had happened' and Ben was either dead or lost, or, he was always hopeful, in hiding along with Luke.
Her daughter, married to a smuggle. A part of her knew that she should be concerned over such a thing, it certainly seemed the motherly way, but she also believed in the good in people. If her daughter loved the man, then she hoped they have a happy life together with their son. Her grandson.
Commander Skywalker. Her children would find each other, then. There were no words to describe how much of a relief that was, or how it broke her heart to realize there had been no mention of her in Poe's description. She wasn't going to be a part of her children's lives then. But they would live, and she tried very hard to focus on that miraculous revelation.
"Thank you for telling me all of this," she said after a moment of silence, withdrawing fully back to her own chair and picking up her cup of tea again while something in her visibly closed off. The only way she could continue this conversation was to distance herself from both the pain and joy it had presented her. "How can I help you get back to your life, Poe?"
He could understand needing the distance, especially if she was who he thought she was, and he was happy to change the subject if that was what she needed, though the question had him shaking his head, just rolling his cup of tea between his palms again, "I don't know. If I did I think we'd be having a very different conversation."
He scrubbed a hand up over his face and through his hair, "We were on the wrong end of a dogfight, last-minute hyperspace calculation through a solar storm, or, well, solar loop, it wasn't really a storm. We were supposed to get to D'Qar and got here instead."
Dozens of thoughts tumbled through her mind as she considered the possibilities while sipping slowly at her tea. Her eyes stayed on the crackling flames as she examined one idea then discarded it and moved onto the next. Mathematical calculations and stellar phenomena were far from her area of expertise, but in the end it was just another problem to be solved, so she approached it as thus.
It was quite frustrating, though. With a sigh, she lifted a hand to rub at her eyes. "Perhaps the best hope for your return might be to recreate the conditions of your arrival," she finally theorized aloud, weariness creeping into her voice.
"That's what I was afraid you were going to say." He replied, another small flicker of a smile, this one more wry than actually amused, "Mostly because that's pretty much the only solution I could come up with."
BB-8 had, apparently, also been trying to work something out, just rocking slowly back and forth as if in thought, finally just hooting sadly in response, as if that was the only solution it had been able to come around to as well.
"I wish I had other resources to offer you," she said, forgetting for a moment that she was no longer in a position where anyone would even expect her to have such things. "If the Jedi were still--" But they weren't. The Jedi were all dead or in hiding, and her husband had played a part in that. Her expression wavered enough for her to look away, needing a few seconds to compose herself again.
"Just making sure I was inside before dark is plenty." He replied, "Means I'll still be able to try and figure things out in the morning." And maybe, just maybe, things would have corrected themselves by then without any input from either of them.
He doubted that one, but he could still hope for it all the same.
Just making sure he... But of course he wouldn't understand just how much she owed him for the gift he'd unknowingly given her. Even with the knowledge that she would have no place in their lives, her children would grow up. They had futures ahead of them that included a time of peace, and just knowing that would help her sleep at night.
"I couldn't just leave you out there," she rationalized. Looking to BB-8, she added, "Even with such a formidable protector."
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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."
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"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.
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He didn't bother trying to explain that the Republic refused to see the First Order as an actual viable threat, because that was something that always frustrated him, and he was trying to keep this as uncomplicated as he could, "But they're going by a new name now, the First Order, and the Rebellion is still around, but since the Empire's using a new name, so are we, the Resistance. And being part of it, that's just... it's in my blood."
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"How far into the future is this?" There was an urgency in her tone that betrayed how desperate she was for the information, punctuated by the way she leaned in closer, barely able to resist reaching out to him. "How long does it take the Rebellion to succeed?"
Were her children alive to see that day? Was she?
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He was making a guess as to her alliances, but he was fairly certain that she wasn't an Empire sympathizer, if only because of how she'd treated BB-8, let alone taking the pair of them in when it probably would have been safer not to.
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The tears that slide down her cheeks were startling, breaking the brief trance that had fallen upon her. She straightened slightly, steeling herself against the onslaught of emotions, and quickly and efficiently brushed the tears aside with the back of a hand.
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"It wasn't an easy road. I mean, I just know the history, not like I was there myself, not for the Empire, but I was for some of the aftermath, and definitely there for the First Order's rise." His brow furrowed a little then, debating, "There were a few splinter factions, they either did each other in or absorbed each other, but the First Order is the strongest of them."
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Even after defeating the Empire, it wouldn't be over. There would be another thirty years of battles ahead, and who knew how many after that. The weight of it all threatened to crush her, and Padmé had to lean back against her seat to keep from feeling ill.
"I tried so hard to make the galaxy a better place," she said suddenly, more to herself than her companion. "To make it safer for my children." She gave a slight shake of her head, looking as utterly lost as she felt. "How could we have failed so terribly?"
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A soft huff, amused, but not really a laugh, "And General Organa likes saying that if you can only believe in the sun when it's shining, you'll never make it through the night."
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"General Organa?" She couldn't hide the effect the name had on her even if she tried. Immediately sitting up, she leaned across the space between them to grab Poe's arm, pleading with this man she'd only just met. "Do you mean Bail Organa of Alderaan?"
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Obi-Wan hadn't told her where he'd taken her children, the both of them agreeing it was safer that way, but it couldn't be a coincidence that Bail had a daughter sharing that name. Her dear friend had raised her child when she couldn't, and she would likely never be able to tell him how grateful she was.
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There were stories of how the flora there would ensnare anything that held still long enough, and he was hoping they were exaggerations.
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"Is her-- Does she have any other family?" Leia would be a grown woman well into middle-age when Poe knew her. Perhaps she would have a family of her own, or maybe, somehow, she and Luke would find each other. It was dangerous to do so, but she couldn't help asking after her second child.
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While on the one hand he didn't want to lie to her, he also didn't think that telling her everything would do her any good either, and so he told part of the truth, "Yeah, got married to a smuggler, well, I mean, he was a general at the time too. A lot of people were then. Their son Ben and I were practically inseparable as kids." A shrug, "Then I went off to the Republic Academy and he went off to train with Commander Skywalker and we haven't really been in contact since." Especially when all he knew was that 'something had happened' and Ben was either dead or lost, or, he was always hopeful, in hiding along with Luke.
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Commander Skywalker. Her children would find each other, then. There were no words to describe how much of a relief that was, or how it broke her heart to realize there had been no mention of her in Poe's description. She wasn't going to be a part of her children's lives then. But they would live, and she tried very hard to focus on that miraculous revelation.
"Thank you for telling me all of this," she said after a moment of silence, withdrawing fully back to her own chair and picking up her cup of tea again while something in her visibly closed off. The only way she could continue this conversation was to distance herself from both the pain and joy it had presented her. "How can I help you get back to your life, Poe?"
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He scrubbed a hand up over his face and through his hair, "We were on the wrong end of a dogfight, last-minute hyperspace calculation through a solar storm, or, well, solar loop, it wasn't really a storm. We were supposed to get to D'Qar and got here instead."
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It was quite frustrating, though. With a sigh, she lifted a hand to rub at her eyes. "Perhaps the best hope for your return might be to recreate the conditions of your arrival," she finally theorized aloud, weariness creeping into her voice.
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BB-8 had, apparently, also been trying to work something out, just rocking slowly back and forth as if in thought, finally just hooting sadly in response, as if that was the only solution it had been able to come around to as well.
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He doubted that one, but he could still hope for it all the same.
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"I couldn't just leave you out there," she rationalized. Looking to BB-8, she added, "Even with such a formidable protector."
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only a decade late
shh shh is fine (and omfg popover menu sorry about that)