tampered | ongoing;

Eying the library with a slight misgiving, Padmé removed the hood of her cloak, the fabric slipping back on her shoulders as she entered the building. After her initial experience in the City she had been as quick as she could about learning as much as possible, about the people, about the government or lack thereof, about the law and its enforcers, and so on. If she was to be stuck here she could at the very least, be informed. That much she had decided before anything else.

She stepped further in, looking around her in carefully handled interest and awe. Everything was different here.

Anakin wasn't here. Obi-wan had said as much.

But apparently there was someone who worked here, at the library, with that same surname. A Luke Skywalker. Naturally, she had come to investigate.

Was this someone from Anakin's future? His past maybe?

Or was it just a weird quirk of the Universe, throwing her a wild card with no relation at all? The only hair she had picked up on was the name factor.

Hands clasping in front of her, she walked through the stacks, eyebrow arching at some of the books, either because the titles were strange or the words completely foreign, or presumably, both.

It took her a while before she found anyone, his face turned away from her.

Clearing her throat so as to alert him before she actually spoke, out of courtesy, she paused.

"Excuse me, but if you have a moment, I'm looking for someone...I was hoping you could help me," she said in a simultaneously yielding and deliberate tone of voice.

He knew someone was approaching, of course. It was fairly difficult to sneak up on a Jedi, no matter how silently one moved. Lost in thought as he was, he didn't turn to greet the library patron, figuring if whoever it was needed help, they'd ask.

And they did.

He recognized the voice, but instead of freezing and composing himself, he jerked his head around in a panicked moment and made a sort of -- well -- strangled noise that might have resembled an oshit if Luke were the sort of person to swear. And then he DID freeze. What timing. Wasn't he just lamenting her presence wasn't he JUST thinking about how much MORE he looked like ANAKIN at the moment--

"I, er-- yes-- well I-- uhm." Pull it together Luke for the love of--

"Yes. I have a moment."

He still looked a bit shocked and startled, but he refused to let himself look away from her eyes.

She was so beautiful. He'd almost forgotten.

Her impulse reaction was actually a combination of things. Her tentative look went from that of patience to mild alarm, and then confusion, and then uncertainty as she took a step forward, a slight one admittedly. Was he alright? Had she startled him after all?

Then she looked at him clearly, her own moment of worry passing for him, and she paused, mouth open, ready to ask if he knew this 'Luke Skywalker' and where to find him.

Anakin.

She thought it, even if she didn't say it even as she blinked, bowing her head briefly to settle her mind.

One hand raised as she brushed some hair behind her ear, gaze moving up to meet his again, calmly, boldly, though not rude.

"Thank you. I am sorry if I surprised you," she paused here before continuing, "But I am looking for a young man named Luke Skywalker. He works here, reportedly, though I'm new here and my sources may or may not be what they seem to be." For a few long moments, she said nothing after that, simply looking at him unabashedly, scrutinizing. The similarities, she did not imagine them there in this bad lighting. They were plain, obvious even, especially to her. Surely Obi-wan had noticed?

And it occurred to her not for the first time that people who knew her here knew a few other things too, ones they were not telling her for whatever reasons. Though not exactly pleased with this, she could not immediately fault them for it either without knowing more about it.

Still, she was willing to go out on a limb, so to speak, and it wasn't much of one besides. The physical likeness. The name. It had to be him and he, apparently, had to be related to Anakin.

With a slight inclination of her head, she added, "Or perhaps I am speaking to him now?" If for some bizarre reason she was wrong, he seemed the sort to forgive a misunderstanding from her impression of him, brief, if distinct.

Luke had the strangest desire to hit his head against the bookshelf.

Instead, he calmed himself, and told her, "I'm Luke Skywalker, yes."

There was no use lying or dodging it. He was awful at lying, and he knew from experience that lying to this woman only inspired her disdain. Her calm demeanor impressed him - she couldn't have been in the City for a full day, and yet here she was, seeking him out. He wondered why - though he supposed he'd find out soon enough, and of course, it would be over Anakin. Whom he desperately wished was still in the City.

Despite his calm, Luke felt that old anxiety begin to coil inside him. The revulsion and self-loathing at the notion of Your mother doesn't like you! was one he didn't know how to deal with.

None of it showed on his face.

"... Is there something I can help you with?"

It wasn't a brush-off, and his tone of voice said he was not speaking just as some library employee. He was soft, and his gaze was respectful. He could tell that some spark inside her recognized him in some way; the ripple-reflection of another man.

At his answer, she nodded approvingly. To lie would have been unwise and unfair to both of them. Pausing, she swallowed a sigh as she offered him a half smile, and a sort of sheepish one at that. Here was the part she knew would be awkward before she even left her apartment.

"I realize you are working," she began, pausing, unclasping her hands, letting them fall to her sides. "But at your convenience, I was hoping you might walk with me a while. We are, it seems, not only from the same world, but linked by a common contact, one, Ana----"and she stopped quite suddenly, some flash of her own mistake showing on her face as she quickly followed that up with, "Knight Skywalker." She kept from biting her lip, a conscious effort as she held her head level, though not high while making such a strange request.

What other questions she had could be answered best in this way though, through time spent together as opposed to a questionable circle game of Q and A. But as she was in most ways, as she knew it, a stranger, she had no little confusion about how weird this must seem, not even forward so much as it was uncalled for probably. Her eyes never left him, bordering on being rude, but she tried to keep it a distant look, not too invested or prying, even though the truth was that she was curious, was in a way prying.

Also though, she simply wanted to seek someone out and rather than it being someone completely random, this name having passed under her notice seemed to call her out. So she followed it here, or rather, tracked the source. It was too late to take it back, not that she would, given the chance. She wasn't the sort to take actions she would rather take back an hour later if she could help it.

"Do you know me, Luke Skywalker?" she asked at last, a thought occurring to her that maybe this was the reason for his evident shiftiness. Did she make him uncomfortable? Or was this how he always was? If her expression changed, it was only to lighten slightly, as if to take some edge off of whatever she supposed might be making him squeamish.

"I'm actually here several hours early, I was ... restless, at home."

He spoke quietly, returning her small smile, and he put the last of the books in his area away as he did so. It seemed so mundane and yet so fantastic, meeting her here like this, seemingly at random. Calling the downed Falcon home. Working in a library of books, not datapads, and yet... it was somehow comforting. Maybe, if everything had made sense, it would have been overwhelming. There was an air of the incredible. There was a choice. He could hide from his anxiety and reject her, walk away.

He could do that, perhaps, in theory, but he would never. Despite it all, he wanted to know her, even though the potential for rejection terrified him in a way not even facing the Emperor had.

"It's just Luke," he said, the response almost automatic. "I did, yes. A little. Not from home, not really. From here."

A pause. To go there, or not? Anakin. How bitter he could easily become - his entire life dictated by his father, his negative emotions twisted up in another dimension entirely over the presence or not-presence of his father. Sometimes, just sometimes, when he was feeling particularly exhausted and out on the edge, he was a very young-feeling man who only wanted to scream at the darkness and beg Why did you fall? Why did you do this to me?

As always, he resisted.

"You are correct, about Anakin."

So he did not know her from their world. Interesting, was her first feeling on it. Odd, was her second. Why, was her third, but 'why' was a common theme since her arrival here and surprised her the least of all of her own reactions. Tilting her head at him, she blinked, still a little thrown off by the resemblance, though not in a bad way. Lest she judge him too much simply for that, she then looked away, focusing on the shelf of books nearest to her eye level. There was definitely the tone of someone, not necessarily in his voice, but something about this that signaled upset to her, some level of unrest. Rather than ask him how he knew Anakin, she waited before speaking again, choosing her words ever carefully.

"Where is home for you, here, Luke?" she asked, turning slightly to peer at him again, though nothing so direct as the forward stares she had been giving him previously.

Luke had a nervous habit of fidgeting with his hands, and he forced himself to stop with an inward sigh. He wasn't being fair, internally. She deserved all the support he could give her. As a newcomer, as someone from his world, as a person. Even just for that.

"A starship on the beach. Ships can't fly here, unfortunately, so we can't get her off the ground, but she's a big enough Corellian freighter we've more or less adapted her into a home. The Falcon. I live there with my sister, and Obi-Wan." There was a slight pause there, as if for just a moment, he'd hesitated on telling her: "Anakin stayed there as well, when he was here."

And then, a true pause.

"You did not. You, or... whomever that was."

He frowned slightly at that, and looked away. He wasn't entirely sure what had prompted him to make that last addition, but the words had been out of his mouth before the thoughts had truly formed behind them. Usually when he blurted things out like that, it was either him being a moron, or the Force inspiring some subtle fact he hadn't come into yet on his own.

Was she the same? Or had she simply aged enough - not that one could ever tell from looking at her - to transform her beyond the woman he had so clumsily known?

Edited 2008-09-11 09:40 (UTC)

Whomever that was? She arched a brow at that, turning fully towards him again, small amusement given away by the upward quirk of her lips. What did that mean? Did this place also attract alternate versions of people, she wondered. Would it be so different than aged versions, or cursed ones in which volitions and motivations were changed? Not so different as to being impossible, she mused.

"Falcon," she tested the name and then, "A strong name for a ship." Not yet walking anywhere, it occurred to Padmé that Luke spoke with a palpable wariness, or perhaps that wasn't the word, more like, uncertainty, when he mentioned Anakin, and she wondered at it though she did not comment. Something in her felt sad each time his name was spoken, but at the same time, proud, strong, even. And she had no reason to in the immediate sense, so she chalked it up to love and loyalty, as simple and long-reaching as those two things were.

But something did bother her, and rather obviously so.

"I did not," she repeated with no small amount of confusion. "I see," she said more quietly and then, "I thank you for taking the time to speak with me. You were under no obligation to and I am aware how strange this must seem to anyone, a stranger seeking you out, well not a complete one but you gather my meaning." That said, she did sigh now a bit, shrugging at him, a far less guarded gesture than she had so far given him.

"Obi-wan no doubt let you know," she paused, her expression again carefully softer, just degrees so but apparent, "He will be staying in my company for a while, at least, if that is not trouble to you for him to do so." She walked, moving in Luke's direction, stopping a little short of him. It was not just a courtesy. If for some reason they needed Obi-wan with them, she could either request lodging there as well or seek some other form of protection, and that last one more for the Jedi's peace of mind than her own.

Obi-Wan had not, in fact, mentioned that to them. Him. Maybe he'd sent a message to the Falcon; Luke didn't know. He'd been in a bit of a self-centered daze since Padmé's arrival. As such, it was a bit of a pang, but there was no evidence to betray that on his face.

Her close proximity made the situation feel weighted, somehow, and he found he couldn't take his eyes off hers. He realized he'd never so much as held her hand, before, and something welled up in his chest at seeing his mother like this. Strong and serene and with some sort of well-placed vulnerability tucked away within her, dignified.

"I'm.. sorry about all this," he said, something in his shoulders going - it wasn't defeat and it wasn't concession, but some opaque-feeling mixture; "As I understand it, you were younger than Anakin... and he was lonely without your companionship as he knew it, then. I believe he made you uncomfortable on some level and that... I did, as well. Perhaps due to our likeness."

He let his eyes drop for a moment, finally, and when he looked back up, he put a half-smile on his face, quiet, something of the farmboy creeping into his eyes. "Obi-Wan will probably like getting away for a bit. We're a little informal for him, I think."

Edited 2008-09-11 10:14 (UTC)

That last bit earned a laugh from her and her smile became something more akin to a broad grin, something that more clearly told of her youth and shed the somewhat restricted decorum of a diplomatic stranger.

"I can see how he might feel that way," she said. "Not in regards to you or yours," she clarified, composing herself again. "More that I knew him once at this stage in his life and he was...is very serious," she affirmed, but not in a critical way, just matter-of-fact. Her grin lessening, expression going pensive again, she studied him in a once-over, always coming back to his face.

There was something deeply honorable there, burdened, but strong, and, she suspected, some level of hurt, though where she drew that from was only intuition's best guess. Of course, being able to read people was, in a sense, part of her job. That she employed it outside of the Senate was almost strictly habitual. Catching herself, she tried to just look at him rather than examine.

Something in his eyes though, and his smile, made her both happy and sad for him at the same time. It hardly made sense. She had just met him, but there it was, just a feeling. It prompted her to reach out to him, but she stopped short, realizing not only the forwardness but also the fact that she did not know what she intended to do here. Pat him on the shoulder like a child? Tell him whatever concerned him could be resolved? To not worry?

Step back, she told herself and she did, letting her hand drop as inconspicuously to her side as possible, offering an apologetic look.

"Don't say that. You don't have to be sorry for any of that, Luke, truly," she said, voice far from loud but steady, an undertone of regal command she would never quite rid herself of. "Your likeness is not something you chose, I imagine, and as for my," she faltered briefly, "Companionship with Anakin, if that was anyone's fault, it was mine or his. Your apology is sweet, but not necessary as you did nothing wrong from what I can tell." The note on Anakin and herself bothered her, and perhaps a split second of that turmoil showed through but just as quickly she tried to mask it. If Anakin was not even present anymore, it was hardly something for her to agonize or worry over if she could help it.

Right now was not about Anakin really, anyway, though he was what had brought her here, his name at least. It was now, quite suddenly, about this Luke Skywalker and Padmé's own somewhat insatiable curiosity for people who intrigued her, and a gnawing feeling of something more that she could not quite put her finger on.

He let himself smile at Obi-Wan's description - expense? It was all out of affection; Luke loved the older man that he so inexplicably outranked. That thought made him wonder if Padmé knew he was a Jedi. He had no uniform, though he wore his lightsaber even then. He put it aside, in his mind. It was all just little building blocks of detail that compared him to another man.

Padmé's withdrawn gesture caught his attention like something shining just out if his line of vision. She was magnetic, in a way. He couldn't help but focus all of his attention on her, even if he wasn't looking at her directly. Part of him felt like he knew she was struggling against some internal knowledge, beneath the surface. He wanted to tell her everything was fine, and just take her back to the Falcon, where she belonged. With them.

Her words almost surprised him - not in their context but in the sincerity of them. Blue eyes on her brown ones, Luke extended his hand for hers, though he waited, just offering.

"..Would you like to walk with me, for a little while?"

"I would," was her simple reply, accompanied by the proffering of her hand, which she placed smoothly into Luke's outstretched one. Her fluctuating misgivings about coming here seemed to ease in favor of being replaced completely by a careful and deep interest. She kept step with him easily but in that same way she almost always traveled from one place to another: quiet, but aware, peaceful but hopefully strong. Or this was the person she so often hoped to serve her people as, at least. The key difference was the ever present and gentle upward curve of her mouth now. Something merely about being in his presence gave her a familiar sense of things, not entirely unlike Anakin himself, which once again led her to wonder how they were related, but she did not ask that.

Instead, hand adjusting carefully in his own, Padmé turned her head to glance up at him again, giving Luke a curious stare as she was prone to do when intrigued in a pleasant way. "You said you have a sister," she prompted, her voice some mix of soft and strong.

It was still surreal. He was forcing himself to forget, and found it was easy. Part of him had always thought, had he known her better, he would see Leia in her - but more and more lately, he saw the fire and aggression from Anakin in her. What would he see in Padmé?

"I do," he said. "A twin sister. Leia."

It was beautiful and mild outside, something he was thankful for. No ominous weather or over-brightness. Just something calm.

"We weren't raised together," he continued, "Hence the differences in our names and supposed origins."

He didn't point out that they, to this day, even with all the involvements of the City, still had no idea where they were actually born. Leia had Alderaanian citizenship, and Luke had a generic Galaxy-Pass from Tatooine, though no real birth records.

"I thought that might be the case," she said, and while she wasn't exactly smug about it, there was something about being right in guessing Leia was the sister he spoke of before he named her that gave Padmé a sense of satisfaction. By most rights, it was a childish pleasure at having won a secret game or the like, but for whatever reason, she still took heart in it, for whatever it was worth.

"This City is strange and yet, not so unbelievable as I expected it to be," she commented, not idly, but with a conversational air. "I feel fortunate, all strangeness aside, that there are others of the world I am familiar with," she continued, taking looks at Luke as she spoke that she interspersed with surveying their surroundings as they walked. Part of her felt badly, when she stole those glances, for all her intense curiosity and how much of it was or was not because of Anakin who was not even present.

But the resemblance was difficult to ignore, even without looking at him. Though the differences between them varied from stark and clear to ambiguous and interchangeable, the similarities also had their places, serving to slightly muddle her senses. Still, it was a simple enough--not to be confused with 'easy'--matter to focus on the basic task of walking, and her surface queries.

"Are you a Jedi, then?" she asked, one of the primary questions that she had debated long enough whether or not to ask. It was something she would find out eventually, she had reasoned, so why not now? With the honest, a straightforward approach was, at the very least, sensible. To this, she also presumed to know the answer but it was usually best to ask the subject, if possible. Eyes wholly on him again, her smile was careful but clear.

He didn't look back at her immediately when he felt her eyes on him, not wanting to give her the impression that he minded the staring. It wasn't like she was being obvious about it - whatever political training ruled her was still functioning. Her hand was small in his, but nowhere near childlike. Her gait was poised, controlled, but still elegant. He tucked all these little things away in his memory.

"I am a Jedi, yes," he told her. "Not so much like those you know, though. The Council has little involvement or say in how I live my life."

She mused on his statement for a while, eyes forward as she did so. That was something different, though something she would not completely fail to expect, especially if things continued to fall apart as they seemed to be doing back home.

Her eyes closed briefly as she pushed those thoughts away. She could do nothing for anyone back there while here.

In some ways, she thought of what he told her as brave and admirable, In other ways, it unsettled her. Did The Council no longer merit that say it staked in a person such as Luke's life? Or was this more personal? Was it something else entirely?

"If that's what is best for you, in whatever time you've been taken from, I can say I admire the sort of strength it takes to be willing to go against any organized body of power," she said at last. "And possibly, a bit of foolishness," she finished, though quieter, traces of good humor there, almost as if addressing an inside joke.

The smile he gave her at her remark couldn't help but be a sad one. How could he tell her that the Jedi Order had been destroyed, all those noble if so very stifled warriors and scholars slaughtered in such a hate-fueled holocaust? He couldn't. He'd rather let her think he was a little foolish.

Anakin had been a little foolish, after all. It was a curiously fine line. They'd both gone against the Council, but in different ways. Anakin had become Darth Vader and nearly destroyed the galaxy. Luke had redeemed it. A morbid line of thought, but an unavoidable one, given context.

"Are you settling in well enough?" he asked. It wasn't a blatant change of topic - perhaps she could tell he simply hadn't anything else to say, concerning the other. "The style here is strange, alien and archaic at once."

"I am, though it's only been a day, less even, adjusting here has not been unlike adjusting elsewhere," she said. "Point of fact, it is possibly easier as my duties here are not the same." The truth was that in some ways, left without her usual responsibilities, she felt a little more unsure of herself than she was accustomed to. Uprooted, might be another word. Yet she had arrived her unharmed, found almost immediate allies and assistance. Could she justify complaint? The answer was a plain and simple 'no' and she knew it. Keeping such thoughts to herself, she maintained a level composure on the outside front.

"It will take me a while longer to completely adjust of course but with the help offered so far, I doubt it could be made much easier than it has already been," she said with a note of gratitude there.

"It's strange, and unfair to be taken against our will," he said, "But not all bad. There is no war here, at the least."

Because he knew that she would be in the midst of war - as they all were, in some way. Except Obi-Wan, who hovered on the edge.

"Most people are kind. Some are not, but that's life everywhere."

"Fortunate," she remarked on the note of war, but said nothing else. It would be audible dwelling then and while she already found herself trusting Luke it was more a desire to withdraw from her own feelings on the state of home that she kept her silence a while longer.

But that's life everywhere.

It was true, though not a necessarily pleasant truth. She had never been able to see things as stark contrasts of good and evil, not in small part because she believed the two to more often be a mesh of gray than a well divided black and white. In all of us, she thought and made a point not to personalize it too much.

"Obi-Wan seems to think there are a number of dangers here. He also mentioned a police force, which he evidently supports," she said, walking once again with her hands clasped in front of her.

"There are a number of dangers, yes," he said, and the shrug in his voice is audible, "But they're the dangers of everywhere, in that, as we've established, not everyone is a kind person. There's the spin that as we're all from different worlds, some people are more dangerous than others, or far moreso than they might seem."

A pause. Then: "Obi-Wan takes his duty very seriously. I get the impression he's not himself without the Council ruling his life. He may cling to the idea of protecting you, to give himself purpose."

Brow furrowing just slightly, she frowned at him, walk slowing to standing.

"I understand how being taken without plan to a strange place could leave him restless...but without purpose? Surely he has had some point of focus and reason in his time here?" she asked, but even as she thought about it herself, her look made the gradual shift from perplexed to concerned. It did not bother her, having Obi-Wan at her side to assist and protect if necessary. To her it was both sweet and appropriate considering both the point in time he was drawn from and her own somewhat perpetual state of 'being protected', much as she was sometimes opposed to the general idea.

To protect was concrete, something one could, in essence, hold onto, a tangible duty, rather than upholding codes of moral or honor, as admirable as that too might be.

In the sense of making one's self feel useful in spite of circumstance, she understood.

"It must be difficult for him," she said quietly, eyes moving away from Luke and out around them.

He halted as well, and remained quiet as she made the connection in her mind. It wasn't a dig to Obi-Wan, but maybe to the Council. They'd wound up their toys so tight that without their owner, they spun sadly and without direction.

"It is," he said. "I try to understand him, but as I said..." he gave her a half-smile. There was no Council in his world. "He is very dear to me, all the same."

His eyes remained on her, though there wasn't any intensity or scrutiny in his gaze. He knew the scenery well, but he knew Padmé very little.

"I hope that you won't find the arrangements stifling. I don't think that you have any reason to be afraid, here. Leia has none."

Part of her agreed with what Luke said as far as 'danger' went. There was nothing about this place that suggested specific targeting as it had in their world. Yet another part of her felt heavier, a bit burdened with the thought that, in all likelihood, there was a reason to have fear in any place, and not least of all a strange City with curious contents as far as population and environment went. Still, that was supposing she became the victim of circumstance more than the next person, altogether too presumptuous but not unfounded.

"It's enough that you try," she said, not feeling in any place to judge, but complimenting him at least. "The effort, I'm certain he must notice, and the fact that he is still someone you care for, despite gaps in agreement or understanding, speaks more highly than it might if you had to try less." She paused and then shook her head, laughing a little at herself. "That is of course, only my opinion," she disclaimed, wondering at her own talkativeness. Something about being in his presence simply made her feel comfortable though, and maybe that was where the more casual nature came from.

"He must notice," she repeated herself, in reference to Luke's care for Obi-Wan, and his attempts, thus, to better understand him.

"Oh, he does," Luke assured her, "he just thinks I'm insane, is all."

Lightheartedness couldn't hurt, and it was a bit amusing - Luke still remembered when Obi-Wan had declared that he was the weirdest person he'd ever met, ever, his master Qui-Gon included.

"There are worse things to be," she smiled at him brightly now, hand finding his again as she started walking, not at all sure what direction she was heading them in, but supposing Luke would steer them if need be.

"He likes you," she commented a bit lately, leaving off the after thought of: as do I.

Somehow 'speaks highly of' didn't hold the same charm as a basic form of 'like', of one-to-one affection, of any kind. One inferred a sort of pride and properness, the other a more personal feeling of care and attention. Both had their places of course, but in this instance, the latter seemed closer to the mark.

He took her hand as she did his, walking with her. Her smile was warming, and he found himself returning it.

"You're good friends, aren't you? I know that he'd be older, when you're from."

And older to Luke, too. But that's not important; now was too soon to be thinking about things like explaining that. Obi-Wan was certain that Anakin would return, and on Anakin's return, they'd discuss informing Padmé of her relation to her children.

"We are. I met him as he is now, though I haven't even asked him exactly from when he was taken," she said, a bit critical of herself in that. She should have asked that, at least, she made a mental note of it, among all the other ones.

"In ways, he grows and maintains a great deal of that duty-bound nature, but his sense of humor improves also." This she shared with him, feeling it not unsafe information. That people grow, that they change, was common knowledge enough. Even more common awareness was that people often retain much of their old ways, through said changes, whatever they might be.

"Don't let me keep you from your work too long," she said suddenly, not looking at him, but attention still fully directed toward him. "You've already given me a generous amount of time." She refrained from the obvious part of 'having dropped in on you so unexpectedly', though her hold on his hand did not lessen.

"I don't technically have to be in for a while now," he said gently. "Thank you for coming to see me. I didn't expect it-" obviously, Luke "-but it's been pleasant. Can I walk you back to your building?"

Edited 2008-09-13 05:51 (UTC)

Padmé inclined her head at him ever so slightly, in politeness, respect, fondness, all of these things.

"You have been very kind," she reiterated. "You are welcome to accompany me. Lengthening our walk even briefly is to my preference, though you do not have to, of course." It was an opportunity for him to just go, given twice, because she still had her own questions about his initial awkwardness and, therefore, their relationship from the last time she had been brought here.

Had they been friends? She wondered. His reaction was not, in the stacks, as she would label one's reaction to a friend returned. Though perhaps that was in large part due to his surprise at being spoken to in general? Somehow, she doubted it. At least civil acquaintances, surely, she thought to herself, still not quite convinced really.

Despite her pointing out of the opportunity to simply return to the library and continue on herself, she did not remove her hand from his, simply waiting.

He wouldn't say no. Maybe there was a time when he would have - but not now, not with her. It was as if over the course of this afternoon, so much made sense, when it had been clouded in confusion and frustration, before. Yet they couldn't just go on walking forever; life progressed, even in the City. Padmé needed to get her bearings and get settled in. Luke needed... something. This, maybe.

And so he did walk with her back to her building, enjoying her company even in moments of silence, but not wasting smalltalk, either - for nothing was petty or frivolous, even the simplest-seeming things.

ongoing;

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