Chapter Text
That sat opposite each other, a steaming mug in hand.
The smell of rain hung in the air, raindrops pattered on the roof. Instead of breaking the humidity, it doubled it. Mixed with the steam from the tea, the room resembled a sauna.
Little lamps created a soft glow and emitted a chemical which warded off Yavin’s numerous critters. Between the plants, tapestries, and lamps, Vel thought her décor provided a sanctuary for her and Kleya. A place to recover.
Kleya couldn’t- or wouldn’t- eat in Vel’s presence. The food Vel had left out for her would occasionally disappear, so she could eat, but it wasn’t a communal activity quite yet.
That was okay. It would be soon enough.
Instead, they found solace in tea. Thoughtfully selecting a blend, swilling warm water through the porcelain teapot and cups, weighing the leaves, steeping the tea for a precise time- all had become a ritual for them. It was frivolous, yes, but a mutual bonding activity. If there was nothing else to talk about, there was tea.
Sometimes they stared wordlessly into their mugs, as if trying to desperately trying to find some hidden message within the residual leaves. Other times they had earnest conversation, tentatively reminiscing.
Kleya was curled up in the chair like a loth-cat, dressed in Vel’s clothes, drawfed in a large fleecy rebel issued blanket despite the oppressive humidity. Her wounds still not properly healed- the crater in her forehead still very much pronounced, the gashes over her eyebrow and lips still refusing to scab over. They would heal in time, of course.
Scariest was Kleya’s sheer frailty.
The way she accepted things with a placid face. Didn’t challenge Vel as she administered medication, simply closing her eyes whenever a cannula was inserted, remaining in a meditative state until it was all over. Leaning into Vel’s palm as she felt her forehead for fever.
The fire which had stoked Kleya for so long was now a whispering ember. She was lost.
If Vel was less astute, she’d have assumed this was a long lost relative of Kleya’s. This vacant young girl looked nothing like the woman that had ruthlessly demanded the assassination of Andor all those years ago.
“I have a constant blur of needy panicked faces in the window, of which you are one of many”
If the day those words had been spat in her face you’d have told Vel that Kleya would soon become the needy panicked face in her window, she’d have balked. Now, Kleya absently shuffling about her flat in her spare slippers seemed almost normal.
It had been nearly three years since their positions were reversed.
She’d become reckless, she knew that now, throwing herself headfirst into any available work from the most obscure rebel channels, leaving for missions mere hours after returning from the last. Surviving off adrenaline and a cocktail of stims which would have probably comatosed the average human being. What she thought had been a new lease of rebel spirit was actually blind stupidity and a disregard for her own life.
“I want my next mission”
“Your mission is to stop it. I know about the smuggling”
“Aren’t I more useful to you this way? I finally have no distractions- nothing left to hold me back- is this not what you’ve always wanted?”
Luthen said nothing. The wind whistled through the concrete corridors of the housing complex, cutting straight through Vel.
“She would have wanted me to keep going”
Another painful moment of silence. Vel was painfully aware it sounded like she was convincing herself rather than him.
“Not like this she wouldn’t! This is just pure recklessness- its suicide. So you go out on some backwater planet at the hands of pirates for smuggling? Where does that leave us?”
He drew a breath. As much as she didn’t want to accept it, Luthen had a point.
“Vel, the rebellion needs you, and I need you too dammit, but not like this.”
He stopped, looking her squarely in the eyes. He adopted a more gentle tone.
“You’re the best I’ve got. Now take some time off- we’ll be here when you’re ready”
Vel had skulked off back to her flat, took a fistful of pills, several drops from that damned vial, flopped on the sofa, and fell asleep for the better part of two days.
She wanted to say that she was plagued of dreams of reuniting with Cinta, replaying their final moments together in a crescendo of love and greif- but she wasn’t. It was a hazy sort of sleep, the kind where you don’t know you’ve drifted until its ten hours later and by the time you realise what’s happened its caught you again, and no matter how hard you try to fight it nature always wins.
On the third day, there was a knock at the door. The blinds were open, light filled the apartment, dust floated in the air like ethereal atoms. In another universe Vel would have startled, but in this one she was too groggy to even consider being alert. Staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t physically bring herself to peel herself off the sofa. She felt so hollow yet so heavy, as if she was atomically bonded to the sofa.
The knock came again, more insistent.
Vel’s body and mind were on two separate planes, her mind halfway down a hyperspace lane to wild space, hurtling at a million miles an hour, and her body stuck here on this wretched sofa. A bomb exploding wouldn’t have triggered her reflexes.
More knocking. A strange pattern.
Whoever it was would eventually realise they had the wrong flat, she thought.
The knocking became more desperate.
Fucks sake let me grieve in peace.
Eventually there was a beeping sound.
Her door hissed open.
For a fleeting moment, Vel hoped it was Cinta- just coming back from the shop. Coming back to her flat where everything would be okay, and she'd wake up from this nightmare and have her miracle right next to her again. Ghorman would just be a horrendous nightmare Cinta could comfort her over.
Vel looked towards the door.
It was the last person she’d hoped to see in this state.
Kleya.
On top of the crushing numbness, Vel now felt excruciating embarrassment.
There she stood, all pristine and perfect. Hair twisted, perfect shopgirl uniform, shoes gleaming.
And there Vel lay, practically paralysed.
“I came to offer condolences”
She’d just lost her girlfriend, and now Kleya had broken into her flat and was attempting to make small talk. Great.
“How did you get in here” Vel croaked out. She hadn’t spoken in nearly three days. Her throat stung.
They remained in silence for a few moments.
“I have an override key for emergencies. This constitutes an emergency.”
Vel just looked at her. She didn’t have time for this.
The air hung heavy for another full minute. The sort of silence that rung in your ears, battering your head and leaving you itching to just say something.
“What do you want? Just here to see me at my lowest?”
Vel knew she was being unreasonable, but she didn’t have any social niceties left in her.
“I came to check in on you”
Their eyes met for the first time. Vel’s body was shrunken, as if her skin had clung to its skeleton just a little tighter. She was tinged slightly grey. Her eyes, usually a bright blue, were pale and milky, as though someone had drained the life force from her. It was as if death still loomed over her.
She knew she looked bad, but the way Kleya’s eyes widened slightly indicated that it was worse than she thought.
“Luthen want me back already?”
Kleya sighed.
“We’re concerned about you. I came to make sure you hadn’t done anything… reckless.”
Vel sighed, staring vacantly into space. She could tell Kleya was walking on eggshells, scared of tipping her too close to the edge. Vel couldn’t physically get up from the sofa, let alone indulge these social cues.
“Well, I’m still here”
She noticed Kleya’s eyes tracking the flat. Probably about to make a saccharine comment about the mess, or the sheer amount of bottles and droppers Vel had lying around. She was simultaneously past the point of caring, and tensing in anticipation of a dressing down.
Instead, Kleya made a beeline into the kitchen.
What was she doing?
If the clink of porcelain being set down didn’t answer her question, the familiar creak of her tea cupboard being opened was.
Without looking she knew that Kleya was on her tip-toes trying to reach the tea, sorting through the boxes to find the right blend.
Vel laid her head back on the sofa as Kleya filled up the kettle and flicked it on.