Anatomy of a Bouquet

by EmeraldTeller86

Summary:

Axel Greylark is set to be released from prison in 33 rotations.

Chapter 1: Focal Flower

Notes:

I’ve never crashed out about a character like I’ve crashed out about Axel Greylark, so I had to write SOMETHING about him.

The harsh slide of flimsi under the glass barrier and the flash of a red stamp made Axel Greylark double take. 

“Denied?” he asked, putting his shock on full display for the prison attendant. “What do you mean denied?” 

“It means you can’t go, Greylark,” the rather pudgy snivvian guard remarked, shoving the flimsi forward further toward the prisoner. 

Axel grabbed it, reading it over. He knew not to waste his breath on the attendant who had nothing to do with the actual declination for his furlough. 

“Can I speak to the warden about this?” 

“The answer’ll be the same,” the snivvian said with a shrug. It was borderline sympathetic. “Look, Greylark, you’ll be out next month. Your parole processing has started, and that's a headache for the warden.” He snorted. “Providing you a two-hour furlough to a maximum security area would be double the headache.” 

“But I gave ample notice!” Axel argued. “And I’d paid the officers accompanying me overtime.” 

The snivvian was clearly done with the argument. “You’ll be free to go wherever your parole officer permits in—how many rotations you got left?” 

“Thirty-three,” Axel gritted out, still rereading the carefully constructed words he had written in a borderline plea to leave prison for a meager two hours on his own funds. 

“Thirty-three. In thirty-three days, you can let your parole officer know you want to go to the Jedi Temple, and they might be able to work something out with Temple security.” 

Axel was still reading over his request. The anger surfacing actually wasn’t that difficult to fight with rationalization. He was still a convict, and his life stopped being his the moment he consented to this sentence. He opened his mouth, still, to argue further. 

The guard didn’t understand that thirty-three days would be twelve days too late to see Gella’s ascension ceremony to Jedi Master. 

And Axel telling him would have no impact on the red ink stamped on his request to be present at it. 

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting my assignment then.” He slid the flimsi back under the glass. He knew better than to keep paper. 

“Give it two weeks or so,” the guard said, stashing away the flimsi in a drawer. “They typically correspond to whatever halfway house you’re assigned to.” 

Frustration flashed in him as he recoiled. The words I don’t need to go to a halfway house almost came flying out of his mouth, but he caged them in. 

“I thank you for your time.” Disappointment bled into his words, and he couldn’t just stand there with open wounds, so he turned to leave. 

“Greylark, you’ve got another message,” the guard barked. 

Axel stiffened, turning back over. He wasn’t expecting anything from his mother or Gella. He half considered ordering the guard to check the validity of it. He had enemies, and receiving a threat right now would not be ideal. He was already going to have to retreat to his cell and deeply breathe away his negative emotions.

The guard pushed a button, and a finely typed message appeared on a screen on the glass. 

Hi, Axel. 

It’s Phan-tu. I know you sent me a message about six months back. Sorry that I never replied. 

Axel couldn’t read fast enough. 

Xiri & I are coming to Coruscant for Gella’s Ascension Ceremony. She said you might be able to come under heavy security. I was hoping we could talk if you have the time. Xiri & I are on a tight schedule, and I understand your time at the Temple has to be brief. 

He let out a long breath. 

Gella has kept us updated on your progress. I’d like to see it for myself. Xiri isn’t really keen on talking to you, so please don’t expect it from her. 

Let me know if it’s a possibility. I’ll reply this time. I received your last message right when we found out Xiri was pregnant again. You can imagine how preoccupied I was. 

I know you’ll be released soon. Please understand that the trespass order still stands. You may not enter Eiram ever again. If Gella’s right about you, I know you understand why. 

When Axel finished reading, he knew he had to get back to his cell. It’s not like prisoners never cried at the inmate calling service center, but Axel was not one of them. 

He made it back to his cell, grasping the sink like a lifeline and breathing in a delicate rhythm. 

You deserve this, Axel reminded himself. Missing Gella’s ascension ceremony was nothing compared to the harm he had caused. It stung, and he couldn’t place why it scraped at his heart so badly. 

You’ve disappointed her, he chided himself nonsensically. He had disappointed her in worse ways. In far more harmful ways. 

He breathed in and tried to explain why the pain was so unbearable. 

It’s because he was so close, wasn’t it? He wanted to do this one thing for her. He was ready to be there and be a proper friend. Being invited to the Jedi Temple was not commonplace for citizens. It was her bearing a very vulnerable piece of her and inviting him in to share it with her. 

But his past mistakes prevented him from being able to be there for her. 

And Phan-tu… 

Axel had sent messages to both Phan-tu and Xiri expressing how sorry he was about …everything. He didn’t expect them to reply. He just wanted them to know that he regretted the pain he had caused. Both to the city and to their friendship. 

Gella told him that she spoke about him sporadically to them. Axel was clearly a sensitive subject, and she knew better than to constantly bombard them with sentiments that he was better and should be forgiven. 

Phan-tu should never forgive him. Xiri shouldn’t either. 

Yet, Axel hoped they would. He shoved the hope back down. 

But he did want to talk to Phan-tu, selfish as the thought may be. He wanted to talk to Xiri too, and he loathed himself for it. 

A part of his punishment was accepting the reality that his apologies were often unwanted. The people he hurt had the right to avoid the mere thought of him, and he had to respect that they didn’t want reminders in the form of apologies or closure-providing conversations. 

“Greylark!” a voice boomed from outside his cell. Axel turned to face it, blinking back the moisture in his eyes. “Nattai’s here to see you.”

Notes:

Alright gang… I’m challenging myself to not overwrite this.

Chapter 2 will be out next week.

Chapter 2: Secondary Flower

Notes:

"I will not overwrite this"

Gella had never visited this late, so Axel figured, as the guards looped his cuffs through the bars on the visitor table, that he was about to get a very solemn, the Force called me here. What’s wrong? 

He wanted to scoff. Gella never said the Force called me to you (probably for the sake of her own pride). 

He took a deep breath and breathed out the odd note of selfishness. Gella had admitted that the Force brought her to him on more than one occasion, but the Force had a lot of places it seemingly desired Gella to visit at a rate that seemed like her allowance should be doubled.  In the grand scheme of the Force’s bidding, her need to visit him probably came down to the single digits in terms of percentage. 

Yet all the same, Gella Nattai came strolling into the visitation room with a neutral expression to anyone else, but to Axel, it barely was contained joy. 

It’s not for you, he insisted to himself. He was properly convinced by the time she sat down without so much as saying his name. 

“Well, if it isn’t my almost-Jedi-master coming to see me—” He glanced dramatically at the chrono. “—past dinner? I’m shocked, Gella. I thought you went to bed just before sunset.” 

Gella leaned back and crossed her arms. 

Yep. Definitely not for me, he thought bitterly. Then, he changed the thought pattern. It was nice to have a reminder that she had other things going on that made her happy. 

If he even made her happy…

“I was in the area,” Gella said nonchalantly, but her expression turned quizzical as she sat down. “Hi, by the way.” 

“In the area?” Axel asked. He added an odd note to his tone as if accusing her of lying. He wanted to make it sound like his usual teasing along the lines of ‘Sorry excuse—I know you missed me,’ but it came out just a tad too accusatory to land how he wanted.  

If Gella noticed, she did not show it. “It’s a long story. I was on a relief mission to Chrisophsis, and I was pinned down with a group of local healers trying desperately to get to a rural settlement. I’d been there for months without word from the Republic, but I had been sending messages. At the last moment, before I surely thought we were about to be jumped, three Chandrillan transports dropped down, picked us up, and took us to our destination. 

“The lead pilot had funded the excursion himself when he got our distress call. He spent the next week helping the humanitarian cause before he ran out of supplies. He went back to Chandrila to get more and petition their Parliament for help. The next month, he came back with a lot more aid and the title of Senator.” 

“Sounds impressive,” Axel said, trying to keep his voice passive as sickly curiosity brewed. 

“With the planet far more stable, the Force called me elsewhere quickly. Today, though, I was accompanying Master Sun to a Senate Committee meeting, and the Senator, Ross Tambin, was there. He wanted to catch up, so we went to dinner in the Federal District.” 

Gella’s voice was lovely. He loved listening to it. He could admit that much to himself, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to make it stop. 

It must have shown on his face because she looked at him puzzled. “Do you know him?” 

“Unfortunately,” Axel said, trying to wrangle the grit out of his words. “Very good associate of my ex-fianceé. He and Lu-reen weren’t friends, per se, just in the same circles. So, I unfortunately got to witness a lot of his uncouth behavior with alcohol and friendly nightly pursuits. He made a big show of it, too.”

“Sounds like the old you would have gotten along splendidly with him,” Gella deadpanned. 

Axel recoiled in disgust. “What? No. No! I may have dabbled in the finer tastes, but I wasn’t sleazy about it. Also, he hated me for stealing his ticket to Senator Faraday’s home office.” 

Axel pushed down a wave of regret for his ex-fianceé. He hadn’t been kind or true to her because he hadn’t learned to be true to himself yet. But at least he left her. Ross was the kind of man to have latched on. Not to love but to suck the soul of her money, her family status, and her life. 

“Uh huh,” Gella said with just a smidge of condescension. “He didn’t really seem like the type you describe." 

“Because people like the old me are good at plucking their best traits—from a plethora of distasteful ones—and presenting only them as their authentic self,” Axel argued. 

“You think I can’t read people?” Gella said neutrally. 

“What? No. You’re great at it. Clearly. All I’m saying is that he’s a scumbag.” 

“Maybe he was six years ago,” Gella said with a shrug. “But he seemed nothing but sincere tonight. He’s doing good work for those even outside his system. The Force led me back to him.” 

The comment made him clench his hands together. She noticed.

“Well… do you think it’ll lead you back to him again?” 

“Maybe if he is sincere,” Gella said diplomatically. “I’d imagine we could work well together.” 

Axel bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a quip. Gella had found herself another Axel Greylark archetype, except this one wasn’t incarcerated and genuinely seemed to impress her. The quips danced on Axel’s tongue. “And here I thought I was special, but all along, you just had a type.” However, instead of sending the bite out for her to judge, he let it ring in his head. 

Gella taught him a regrettable lesson on her third visit. He had been particularly snappy from the lack of alcohol (at least, that’s what he would blame in retrospect), and she got up and left. 

“That wasn’t funny, Axel.” 

“I wasn’t trying to be funny! Wait, Gella, I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t want to be spoken to like that. I hope on my next visit, you’ll have a better understanding of how friends speak to one another. ” 

Gella’s visits were a privilege. If he wanted to quip and be smart, there was a very real chance she would not entertain him. 

“I’m upsetting you,” she observed flatly. Her eyes scanned his face. “And you were upset before I got here. What’s wrong?” 

“See, you’re an excellent read of character,” Axel remarked, throwing in charm that he knew would fall flat to her. When her scowl amplified, he sighed. “They denied my request for furlough.” 

Gella said quietly, “Oh,” after a moment. 

The lack of emotion on her face was driving bitterness that he had no right to. Gella shouldn’t care if he couldn’t go. She shouldn’t have invited him. 

But she had invited him, and he had let her down yet again.

“Yes, well, now you can give Ross my unused invite,” Axel said before properly thinking how ugly he intended it to be. 

Gella raised a brow. “Really?” 

“What?” Axel said defensively. The anger and frustration rose before he could adequately rope them down. Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he would rather pick a fight with her than imagine her with some other man eating at Coruscant's fine dining. “You-you clearly enjoy his company, and he would probably rightfully enjoy the experience since he’s so altruistic about cultures outside of his world.” Besides, his motivation for his remark wasn't rooted entirely in bitterness. Gella deserved friends like that. Friends who could do nice things for her and celebrate her accomplishments. 

Axel watched her, tapping his thumb on his wrist and almost hoping she would get up and leave him. 

“Axel,” Gella said his name slowly. “I barely know Ross. The Temple is a sacred place. Not to mention, Master Ascension Ceremonies are a closed practice. I wouldn’t just invite anyone. The only non-Jedi I invited are you, Phan-tu, and Xiri.” 

Axel had to bite his cheek again because everything she had said stung his eyes like each implication was far too spicy for his prison food-adjusted palette to handle. He looked away and, out of the corner of his eye, watched her exasperation turn into concern. 

“Axel, talk to me. Really talk to me,” Gella urged. 

He had spent so long denying her honesty when they first met, but now, hoarding his sincerity from her was unnatural. Still, it wasn’t entirely comfortable for him to bear his vulnerability. 

“I’ve let you down in so many ways, Gella.” Axel let out a shaky breath, and his chest tightened painfully. “I wanted to be there for you. I know this is a big accomplishment, and you honored me with your invitation, and, kriff, I know in light of all I’ve done, this is trivial, but if I had been the person I am now six years ago, I could be there for you. 

“I want to be there for you, and I can’t. It’s my own fault, and this isn’t about me—I’m not trying to make this about me or my disappointment. But I am… I’m disappointed.

“I had this grand plan of showing up, even in cuffs, receiving deserved scrutinizing glares, surrounded by guards, but with a bouquet for you.” He stopped when he realized his vision was blurry. Even bleary, he saw the shock on her face. It morphed into something gentle for him. “I know it might sound dumb, but it was the first thing I thought of when you invited me. I wanted to do one mundane show of appreciation for you and your accomplishments. And prove to myself and you that I can handle being outside these walls and doing good. But instead, I’ve let you down again.” 

Gella waited for a beat and then reached out to grasp his chained hand. She could do that—reach for him when he was prevented from doing so. 

“Axel, you haven’t let me down.” 

He shook his head, but she did not relent. 

“I’m not upset,” Gella assured. “I wanted you to be there because, well, you’ve helped me get to this point.” She smiled—not to show him she was happy but because she genuinely was. “The ceremony is a formality. Lots of masters don’t even choose to have one.

“And you can buy me a bouquet when you’re a free man, Axel,” Gella assured with a squeeze of his hand. “I know you recognize me and my accomplishments. And I know you’re appreciative. You don’t need to show up with flowers that’ll die in three rotations to show me that.” 

The tightness in his chest greatly lessened. 

“And you’re allowed to be disappointed. That’s a part of this,” Gella argued, gesturing to the building that held him. “You miss out on things. But you’re so close.” 

“I don’t know,” Axel said, taking his hand away. “I’m not sure parole is a good idea—” 

Gella looked exasperated again. “Axel...” 

“They won’t even approve me for a two-hour furlough under heavy guard! If they can’t trust me to go to one flower shop and stand in a building full of highly skilled Jedi, why should I think I’m ready for halfway assimilation?” 

“Don’t catastrophize,” Gella ordered. “Did they not tell you why it was denied?” 

“Well...” 

“It was probably security logistics and time constraints,” Gella rationalized. “Am I right?” 

“Maybe,” Axel said, wishing he could cross his arms over his chest and lean away from her coolly. Her attitude had turned chilly since he took his hand away, and he was re-acquainted with the reality that the chains prevented him from reaching for her. 

“You’ll do fine on parole,” Gella stated firmly. 

“What if I don’t?” 

Gelal said, matter of factly, “Then you’ll end up back here. Which you are entirely in control of. Remember that, Axel. You can’t control rejection or feeling disappointment, but you can control how it influences you. 

“Don’t lose faith in yourself because you got told no once. Rejection happens. Don’t... don’t internalize it.” 

“I’m not trying to,” Axel told her sincerely. He gripped the bar pinning his cuffs down. “I stopped asking for things, and before, when I wanted something…”

“You got it, right.” Gella hummed. Axel almost felt compelled to smile as she searched for what else to say. “You’re going to have to learn how to advocate for yourself and others, and a part of that is pushback. Sometimes you accept the pushback, and other times you have to fight it.” 

“And should I fight against this rejection?” 

“No,” Gella said firmly. “I think you being denied attendance at an event outside of prison is just another aspect of your incarceration.” 

Axel winced. 

“And I think it’s an opportunity for you to embrace rejection and disappointment.” 

“You sound like a much nicer version of my therapist,” Axel grumbled fondly. 

Gella let out a single chuckle. “Because I’m your friend, and she is not.” 

Axel smiled through another pang left in rejection’s wake. This one was duller, familiar. 

“Well, now that we’ve made this all about me,” Axel said with an exaggerated sigh. “How are you? Are you excited about your rank increase?” 

Gella beamed then, not with a flashy smile but with true light in her eyes. 

“It’s challenging,” Gella admitted. “There are moments when I’m walking through the Temple, passing by so many Jedi who have done more for the Galaxy than me or… made fewer mistakes, I don’t feel like I deserve it. I was counseled that feeling unworthy might just be humility or harmful self-doubt.”

“And..?” Axel prompted, opening up his palms. 

Gella smiled. “Remember when I first told you they offered me the rank of Master?” 

He smiled back. “That it was about damn time?” He relaxed then, putting his elbows on the table. “You looked so crestfallen, too. You walked in here like I had insulted your favorite bland shade of beige to wear. Only for you to reveal you were so torn over getting a promotion of a lifetime.” 

Axel's smile grew at her look of annoyance. 

“Yes, well, despite your rather apathetic approach to my inner struggle—”

“I was not apathetic. You were being ridiculous.” 

“It was what I needed to hear,” Gella finished pointedly. She gave him a look of fond ire. 

“Aw, because you value my opinion?” 

Gella blinked, and her smile fell into her signature scowl. “Yes. Yes, Axel, I value and respect your opinion.” Her scowl shifted into something he couldn’t recognize. It was bordering on sadness when she wiped it off back into a scowl. “I… Nevermind.” 

“No. What is it?” Axel squeezed her hand. “Tell me.” 

“You’re not a Jedi,” Gella said after a moment. “You might not understand, but I think my greatest challenge hasn’t happened yet. My rank seems premature when I know I’ll face another, greater test.” 

“But don’t you think you should face harder challenges when you are a master?” Axel prodded. “Don’t you think whatever advanced studies you’ll have access to will help?” 

Gella considered this. “No. I don’t think there’s anything else I can study to help with this. I just have to face it.” 

Axel tried to be sympathetic, but he didn’t understand what in Sith’s Hell she was talking about. Not because he wasn’t a Jedi, but because she was being purposely cryptic. 

“Well, face it and learn, I suppose.” Axel cracked a smile. “Besides, nothing can be a bigger challenge than me, don’t you think?” 

The smile that appeared on her face was hard to place. At first, it seemed rueful, but then she twisted it into something kinder. “I’ll let you think that.” 

“Hey!” 

She laughed briefly before checking the chrono on the wall. 

Axel rushed out, “Phan-tu messaged me. Or did he tell you? He said he walked to talk to me at your ceremony.” 

Gella turned back to him. “Yes. He mentioned that he wanted to see you. I can tell him he can come here if you’re available.” 

Axel debated telling her no. The only visitors he ever had were Gella and his mother. It wasn’t a pleasant experience to come into the prison. The first time Gella came, she entered the visitation room bristling because the guards had given her a far-to-thorough pat down and took her lightsabers. 

“He can…” Axel conceded. 

“Good,” Gella said with a certainness that made him uneasy. “I’m sure it would be a productive conversation.” 

“More productive than this one?” Axel teased through his uncertainty. 

Gella waited a moment before retaking his hand into hers. “You know how you used to say you were very good at wearing people down? I think instead of wearing me down, you’ve sharpened me. We sharpen each other. 

“It wasn’t always easy. Painful, at first, but we both benefited from it in the long run.” She gave him a sharp look—one he must have helped craft if what she said was true. “Don’t expect Phan-tu to be as willing as I was.” 

“I won’t,” Axel replied, daring to glance at the chrono. It was late. They would kick her out soon. “Because I can’t be there in person for you, congratulations. I mean it, Gella. You do deserve it. And I’m not just saying that because you saved my life thrice. You do. You’ve done so much good for the Galaxy, and you deserve some well-earned recognition.”  

The slight blush that crept onto her cheeks gave him a well-needed ego boost. “Thank you, Axel. I’ll remember that.” 

He wished they could sit in the comfortable silence that followed for hours, but the clock ticking toward his release was also racing to declare visiting hours over. 

“You’ll be here for my release?” Axel asked tentatively. 

“I don’t want to make any promises,” Gella offered in a diplomatic tone that would impress his mother. “If the Force wills it, yes. If not, I promise to visit you as soon as I can.” 

“You just made a promise,” Axel pointed out cheekily. 

Gella rolled her eyes before standing up. “Next time I see you, you won’t be in stun cuffs.” 

“Next time I see you, you’ll be a Jedi Master,” Axel said. 

The Jedi Knight smiled and bid him goodbye. He didn’t know when he would see her again. 

Once, he waited two years. 

He hoped he would only have to wait 33 days. 

Notes:

Me? Overwrite dialogue? Never!

Rewrote this three times, and each reiteration got longer and longer.

Chapter 3: Textural Flower

Notes:

If you have trypanophobia, please be advised that the first half of the chapter revolves around the object of said fear. It stops at the break.
-
Yes, this is overwritten and late, my bad!

The first thing Axel noticed when they opened the door to the meeting room was not his parole officer but the large and lengthy needle by the man’s right hand. 

“Mister Greylark,” the iktotchi man at the table said, holding a datapad in hand. “Bring him in.” 

They pulled out the chair for him, given his own were bound. He put his hands obediently on the table so they could be chained to the bar when the iktotchi officer waved them away. 

“Remove the manacles.” 

The guards exchanged a glance, both looking like they’d rather not, but they did as they were told. 

Axel met the man’s eye as he rubbed his wrists. The iktotchi was a burly, tall man by the looks of it. He wore a subtle grimace as he extended a hand. 

Axel, confused by the gesture initially, stared at it. He didn’t have anything to give the man, but it wasn’t an open palm facing upward. It almost looked like…

No one had shaken Axel Greylark’s hand in years. 

Cautiously, Axel took the extended hand. 

“Officer Peblo. Coruscant Parole Board. I’ll be overseeing your parole for the next ten years.” 

Axel smiled. Something flashy to mask how much the gesture moved him. “Axel Greylark. Future parolee. Pleasure to meet you.” 

Peblo did not return his smile as he slid his hand back to the datapad. Though, Axel’s eyes immediately wandered back to the needle next to it. 

“I chip my parolees myself,” the iktotchi said briskly while scrolling on the datapad and crossing out some content with a stylus. “I’ll do it once we formally go over terms.” 

“I was there at the parole board,” Axel said eagerly. Though, he was anything but eager to have that needle shoved in him. Still, he knew the importance of this relationship. For the next ten years he would have to prove he was competent and compliant to this man. “I reviewed them before coming here, too.” 

“Correct,” Officer Peblo said starkly. “However, you are my responsibility.” He looked up from his writing. The iciness appeared in his eyes like rapid frost.

 “You are violent . You have influential friends. And, most interestingly of all, you did not petition for your own parole, which means you have certain reservations about being released. So, I’m going to use some discretion and alter some of the terms for my own safety and that of others. Now—” He pointed a sharp finger at him. “—you’re going to tell me exactly what those reservations are.” 

Axel could admit that he hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Because I could very easily keep you in here.” 

A flash of alarm passed through Axel. He had spent the past year arguing against his freedom. It had been others presenting carefully constructed evidence that his rehabilitation would slow if he were to stay incarcerated. But now, with freedom so close he could touch it, he regretted ever speaking his doubts aloud. 

“If it’s fear, I need you to tell me what you’re afraid of. Afraid of your old cult members getting a bit of revenge? I can help with that. Afraid of fucking up? I can help with that, too.” Officer Peblo leaned in. “Don’t worry. I’ll send you back in here the moment you do.” 

Axel had to fight the ice creeping through his veins. The coldness the iktotchi exuded was palpable. “It’s complicated. I’ve killed. I’ve ruined lives. I cannot take back my past actions, and most would agree that other than killing me, staying here is what’s fair. Though, obviously, I’m sure you know, incarnation isn’t such a simple solution. But… my reservations are that I might not deserve to be released.” 

“You’re not being released. You’re going on parole. Which the justice system says you do deserve,” the officer said bluntly.  “That’s up to you to prove it, and if you aren’t deadset on proving it—” 

“I don’t want to prove anything. I just want to atone. That’s it.” Axel realized interrupting the man was a poor choice far too late when the man’s heavy brow set deeper. 

“Good,” the Officer said. Axel let surprise seep into his features. “Let’s start by outlining the parameters for how you can atone.” 

Axel swallowed, folded his hands, and nodded. 

“I’m reducing your mother’s guardianship to 26 hours a week. Consider it 24 hours with an hour buffer for late arrival or early departure from the halfway house.”  

Axel opened his mouth to argue but promptly shut it. “And the board approves?” 

“Yes.” 

“And can I ask why?” 

The iktotchi frowned, and Axel resisted cringing. “Because I don’t trust flight risks two nights off-leash. Prove that you’ll abide by curfew for a year in the halfway house, and then we can talk about extending you a two-day weekend.” 

Axel bit his cheek but nodded. “My mother won’t be pleased.” He intended the statement to be light, but the officer’s mouth remained in a hard line. 

“I’m sure your mother wasn’t pleased when you blew up Erasmus and escaped prison.” 

Axel clasped his hands tighter. “No. She wasn’t.” 

“Then I’m sure seeing her son in her home once a week rather than in prison would be pleasing in comparison.” Officer Peblo sighed as if this conversation had taken weeks of his time. “You will follow all the halfway house rules. I’m sure you’ve read them, yes?” 

“Yes,” Axel said softly. “Although, I did have a question.” 

The officer said nothing. 

“My parole conditions didn’t mention anything about sobriety, but the halfway house rules make it clear I can’t drink, but once I leave…?” 

Peblo raised a brow. “Your offenses weren’t committed while intoxicated. You’re not legally bound to sobriety-focused treatment, but your halfway house is a sober living environment. If you want to drink at your mom’s, that is your own choice.” 

Panic plagued Axel suddenly. “No. No, I can’t.” 

“Then don’t,” the Officer said simply, though Axel heard hints of surprise in his voice. “You’ll have access to treatment in the halfway house, and if you’re worried about temptation, you can stay there the full week.” 

The officer passed the datapad over. “If you don’t have any other questions about the house rules, sign here.” 

Axel skimmed them again, and his brows crinkled in concern when he got to the bottom. 

“My check-in date is two days after my release,” he pointed out, heart pounding.

Officer Peblo waited for a beat, and Axel could swear it was almost sadistic enjoyment watching him panic. Two more days were nothing in the grand scheme of his incarceration, two more days away from parole he didn’t deserve, and two more days to wait for freedom he would use for good. 

“I’ll let you have that two-day weekend vacation with your mother,”  the Officer said slyly. 

Axel signed. “Here.” He handed the datapad back to him. 

Peblo kept his stare cold. “Every other week for the next three years is 26 hours. Am I clear?” 

“Crystal as the gems on Christophsis.” 

“Good. Now, about when you are under your mother’s guardianship...” 

Axel listened intently to what was mostly just a review of his parole board’s original orders. There would be unannounced visits. The officer would do a house inspection before release, and no weapons of any kind could be kept at the residence. He could not fly, he could not leave a certain perimeter, and he could not move his funds. 

“You’re to tell me if you have any visitors. I know your mother has a lot of allies, but I need names if they want to stop by while you’re there. And I need names. And I need 48-hour notice from you or her, so I can vet them. If someone drops in for a surprise, you tell me the second they get there.” 

“I won’t have visitors,” Axel said, though he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll be sure to let my mother know, though.” 

Officer Peblo carried his disbelief as a scowl. “Really? You don’t plan on bringing anyone over? No former ex-girlfriends coming to see you?” 

Axel dared to laugh. “I’m a different man than those old tabloids, I promise.” 

The officer did not find that amusing. “Mister Greylark, I understand trust and honesty are often a carefully constructed bridge between two people over time.” His frown deepened. “But that isn’t the case here. Your honesty is not something I have to earn. It is my right. Even if you don’t want to be honest with yourself, you must be honest with me.” 

Axel shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He did not like how this conversation had gone from the start, but trying to overtake it would not work in his favor.  

“So, just to reiterate, you need to tell me if you have visitors at your place of residence. You meet a girl at the bar and want to bring her to your fancy Greylark estate? Tell me as soon as you’re in that cab.” 

Defensiveness spiked through the Coruscant Prince. I’m not going to any bars, he wanted to argue, but he knew better. 

“Yes, sir,” was Axel’s response instead. “And, if you want my honesty, I only have one friend. I’m assuming you’ve looked at my visitation record.” 

Peblo looked at him, unimpressed. “I’m sure you’ve made friends in here, and I’m sure you’ll make more when you get out. It doesn’t matter if you have one friend or twenty. You need to tell me who they are and when they’re at your residence. Can we move on?” 

One brisk nod later, and the parole officer was clarifying more terms. Again, they were all words Axel had heard at the board meeting, but some Peblo found a particular need to stress. 

“You fly, I send you back here. You hold a blaster in your hand; I send you back here. You commit any crime, I send you back here. Minimum of three months. You go to Erasmus? Three years, and that’s if the Queen is feeling generous. I find any detonator paraphernalia of any type. You’ll spend your whole sentence in here. Make no mistake: I’m not here to keep you accountable and on the right path. I’m only here to send you back to prison when you fuck up. Am I clear?” 

“Yes, sir,” Axel said quietly. 

The officer was not finished. “You kill again? Life. If anyone from your little cult contacts you again, and you don’t tell me immediately. Life with additional charges of treason and conspiracy. Any crime of a violent nature? I’m assuming life.” Peblo’s tirade seemed finished then. The man leaned back in his chair. “Any civil filings you make, you need to tell me.” 

“Civil filings? Like marriage?” 

Peblo shrugged. “Anything civil. Any flimsiwork that might be passed to a judge’s eyes, I need to be aware of. Any contact with law enforcement, tell me...” 

 “I’ll send you a diary every day then.” 

Peblo rubbed his brow. “Please don’t. Save it for your therapy team. Oh, speaking of, I need access to that.” 

Axel shifted to look at what the man was pointing at. The black plastic of the L11-C00 monitor was just below the right cuff of his prison jumpsuit. Axel was about to tell him he didn’t even have access to the data it provided when the datapad was slid back to him. 

“Sign there so your psychiatrist can release that data to me.” 

Axel hesitated. “Am I violating terms if my lithium levels drop below a certain point?” 

“No. I need to be in the know if you’re at a higher risk for mood swings. It will make things easier for both of us.” 

Axel tapped the stylus on the table. “Can I refuse?” 

“No.” 

Advocate for yourself, that pestering Gella voice urged him. “This wasn’t part of the board’s term. I have a mental health team monitoring those levels.” 

Peblo wore a much uglier scowl than Gella. “Mister Greylark, remember what I said about honesty. Giving me that data is as honest as you can be.” 

Axel bit his cheek, pretending to read over the contract in his hand. “If I start to feel or act impulsively and think I’m in danger of violating terms, I will tell you.” 

The iktotchi opened his mouth, likely to tell Axel that he needed the data anyway, but he shut it as Axel signed. “The monitor will only tell you how much lithium is in me. Not if it’s working.” Axel gritted his teeth but released the tension with a sigh. “Will you need consent to access all my health records?” 

“No. Your therapy team will only report back to me that you’ve gone. Not what you discuss.” He took the datapad back. “You will meet with me biweekly. I’ve got your work schedule here. 0900 to 1700 at the Ministry of Agriculture. So, we can meet around 1900. We’ll pick the day once you’re adjusted to the halfway house.” Officer Peblo paused. “I’ve seen your work on Level 2765.” He looked like he wanted to say more about the community garden Axel had drawn up, proposed, structured, and funded. It wasn’t Coruscant’s first artificial light garden in the undercity, but it was currently the only operational one. The artificial lamp lights were expensive, and unfortunately, Coruscant’s undercity had earned its reputation for thievery. The entire garden was raised and operated by droids that distributed the food instead, with no entry points for sentients to sneak in and steal the bulbs. It wasn’t pretty, but it was operational (according to reports) and was getting citizens fed. 

“You will go to and from work via public transport. You’re looking at about a standard hour commute from the halfway house.” He gave him a pointed look. “We can discuss personal vehicle usage when you are out of the house.” He continued, “If you need to go work on a garden site, let me know.” 

“I have plans to build an acre-long one on Level 1987,” Axel said immediately. “I know. Ambitious, but given the three-year success of my first, I think the Ministry will consider it.” 

Officer Peblo hesitated. “Why not the upper levels?” 

“Pardon?” 

“It would be easier to grow plants with real sunlight.” 

Axel cringed. “Very complicated answer. Yes, it would be. It is. But… Coruscant’s upper levels don’t need community gardens. It’s better for the communities that need them to be in closer proximity. Shipping logistics. Travel. Also, well, let’s just say upper communities like to push back on the idea of them. They think it would attract lower levelers to uh, well…” 

“Come to the surface,” the officer finished. 

“To put it politely, yes.” Axel considered his next words carefully, “Though, I would love for community gardens on Coruscant to be community-run rather than essentially a garden factory. It’s just those damn bulbs.” 

Whatever interest the parole officer had in Axel’s service project, he promptly dropped it. “Right. Well. Level 1987 is out of your approved perimeter, so please get permission before you venture down there.” 

He spent a good twenty minutes going over the conditions of employment and how half his salary would be taken back by the state as reimbursement for his stay in the prison and his rent at the halfway house. 

“Any other questions?” Officer Peblo pushed a few buttons on the pad, presumably to send all conditions to his mother. 

Axel couldn’t help himself, “How badly is that going to hurt?” He weakly chuckled. 

Officer Peblo did not entertain him. He reached for a briefcase under the table before standing up. “They warned me you would try to be funny.” He knocked on the door. 

“I am funny,” Axel grumbled. 

The guards from earlier came in, almost bordering on excitement from the looks of it. 

Oh great, Axel thought as they surrounded him on either side. 

“Hold him here.” A starkly cold hand pressed down on his neck while the iktotchi grabbed his elbow and put it on the table. “Hold him here.” The other guard held down his arm. The zipper of his jumpsuit let out a sound of protest as it was dragged down to expose his lower back. 

Axel had not been touched this much in half a decade. His body didn’t know what to make of it, and he struggled to keep his breathing under control as he reminded himself exactly what was happening. 

“You’re right-handed?” Peblo said in a gruff voice Axel was coming to hate. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He ordered, “Flex your shoulder toward me.” Axel did as he was told, and he was rewarded with a sharp pinch to the right of his shoulder blade. 

“Relax it.” 

The stark smell of rubbing alcohol filled his nose, and he winced away from the cold despite himself. Two fingers prodded at the muscle. 

“This is a muscular implant. It’ll rest on the very top of the fiber. There is a minor chance of it migrating. You’re welcome to get it checked out at any clinic if you’re worried. Just—” 

“Tell you?” Axel guessed, but his heart was pounding so against the table it wavered his voice.  

“Any tampering with this or its signal will get you sent back here,” Officer Peblo told him, sounding uninterested. “If it stops working or you remove it, I’ll have to do this process all over again.” 

You know most men who bend me over a table and jam something in me at least share a drink with me, Axel was so incredibly tempted to say. 

But he knew better. 

“It’s got an internal numbing agent that’ll activate around a minute after insertion, so don’t freak out when you lose sensation in the area. Take it easy on that side for at least 48 hours. And where is that…?” He grumbled as he moved back to the briefcase and tossed out what looked like a spherical loth cat. He put the stress ball in Axel’s left hand. “If you want to tense up, tense up your other side. For the love of the gods, loosen your grip on his neck.” 

“They always struggle,” the female guard argued. 

“This one won’t.” 

Axel could not fathom how this man read his buried determination. Every deep breath was a struggle against his instinct to panic and rebel against the hands holding him down. 

“How many more rotations you got, Greylark?” There was a clicking sound. It was frankly akin to a blaster being charged. 

“Twenty,” Axel said. Though, he did want to snark because why didn’t his parole officer know that? 

“Give me twenty seconds max, and we’ll be done.” 

Axel had endured a lot of pain in his life. Injury was nothing new to him. The anticipation of a wound, though, made him want to run. 

You need this, he reminded himself. Not the pain itself. Pain as punishment was not helpful for him. It was a quick reward and a distraction against real growth. That’s why he had loved picking fights on the prison barge. He always knew, deep down, he needed punishment of sorts, and a quick punch in the face hurt like hell. 

But then it was over. He paid his dues without change. He could get punched a thousand times. Each one would hurt, so it was enough. 

No, he needed this to hold himself accountable. A physical connection to his punishment at all times. All he would have to do is flex his shoulder to feel the tie back to real punishment. 

Officer Peblo didn’t trust him yet, but Axel had to trust himself. Still, the tracker was a guardrail that eased the tension in his muscles. 

It still hurt like a bitch. 

“Ow, you son of—” 

A very loud click cut the Coruscant Prince off from cussing out the man responsible for his semi-freedom. 

“Bad part’s done.” 

Axel felt the guards shift as he half imagined the cranky iktotchi giving them looks of I told you so. 

The hands came off Axel as he felt a band-aid of sorts placed over the puncture. His jumpsuit was zipped back up. He winced at the slight movement it took to look down at his lap where he had the squished ball. The cat’s eyes looked comically gouged out. 

“Sit up.” The officer sat back down, sorting the equipment back into their places in the briefcase. 

Axel did, already feeling the displeasurable numbing sensation. “Sorry about your cat.” He put it on the table, watching it reinflate slowly. 

Officer Peblo crossed his arms. “It served its purpose. Let me check to see if the tracker is online, and then you’re free to go rest. Go to the med center in two days to get the dressing removed.” 

The datapad chirped on cue. “You’re good to go.” The officer stood up, extending his hand again. “I’ll see you in about a month.” 

His right hand buzzing, Axel still took it. He stood, giving as much strength into the shake as he could. 

“I look forward to building that bridge with you.” 

Strong doubt was written on Officer Peblo’s face, but he shook his hand before dropping it. “I’ll be in contact.” 

 

---

A visitor summoned Axel a week later. An unscheduled one that interrupted him from a needed workout. 

Axel hated to admit it, but his therapy team still drove his muscles into knots. 

Let’s talk about your father. 

Let’s talk about your feelings toward Force Users. 

Let’s examine your relationship with influential people. 

The only option to get the knots out was to lift and pull heavy objects until his muscles lost the strength to be wound up. 

“Visitor,” the guard said curtly, cuffing him. “Royalty. Your guardian approved.” 

I’ll reply this time, Axel mocked himself as the guard ushered him into a more restricted visitor center. 

It was like the one Gella had to use the first few times visiting him. A glass panel separated the inmate and visitor with only four small holes. He didn’t need to be chained to the table, though. 

Phan-tu Zenn walked in, sheepishly cringing away from the guard when the door was shut. 

Axel was now all too aware he had no idea how to approach this. If Phan-tu had messaged him about his arrival, Axel would have at least rehearsed a few scenarios. Should he come on strongly apologetic? Exude familiar charisma? Or…?

“Sorry, I didn’t give much notice,” Phan-tu said, grabbing the chair. It made an awful screeching noise they both winced at. He sat. “I wasn’t super familiar with how the process worked.” 

Axel took a moment to take his former friend in. Appearance wise, Phan-tu looked mostly the same save for a few wrinkles around his eyes. Those eyes were still gentle and when he had spoken, a soft smile was present. 

“You…” Axel realized he still didn’t know what to say. “It’s not a problem. I wasn’t doing much.” 

Awkward silence cast over them. 

“Gella said you weren’t coming to her ceremony,” Phan-tu said. 

“Yes. I requested, and I wanted to be there, truly, but I made choices and… missing out on her ceremony is just one of many consequences.” He cringed. Now was as good a time as ever to start the real conversation. “I’m sorry, Phan-tu. For everything.” 

“I…” Phan-tu started, looking around the small section of the prison they were in. A place for visitors at that. “I read your message. I wanted to see for myself if you were better.” 

“Trying.” Axel swallowed. “Effort every day.” 

“What exactly do you do?” 

“I talk,” Axel admitted. “I confess, really. I make plans for a productive future.” 

Phan-tu nodded. “You’re being released in two weeks.” 

“I am.” 

“What will you do?” 

Axel folded his hands. “I, uh, met with my parole officer about that two weeks ago. My full-time work permit was approved. I’ve been working for the Ministry of Agriculture in here for the past five years. I’ve proposed and stretched out artificial light community gardens for lower levels on Coruscant—one of which is functional. When I leave, I’m hoping to work hands-on with them.” 

Phan-tu blinked. Axel resisted cringing. “…that does sound productive.” 

“I’ve met my site leader, and she’s actually from Eiram.” 

Phan-tu tensed. “And does she know?” 

“Yes.” Axel swallowed. “I’m not going to be assigned to Eiram, don’t worry. Although, I—” I have some ideas, he wanted to say, but he knew his suggestions were premature. “I won’t leave Coruscant for another three years. My parole is serious. I can’t… I won’t be able to do a lot. I’m chipped since my offenses were violent, and if I violate a single condition of my parole, I have to come back here for a minimum of three months.” 

“And what’re your conditions?” 

Axel knew them by heart, and there were a lot of them. “I have to be sober. I can’t own weapons of any sort—even carrying knives is an offense. I have to ask permission to go to any building or residence that has more than two security officers. I cannot leave Coruscant. I cannot travel more than 150 kilometers from my halfway house or guardian's house—vertically or horizontally—without written permission…” He kept listing them, and Phan-tu gave no indication he wanted Axel to stop. 

“And it’s three years?” 

“No,” Axel admitted with a sign. “It’s ten.” 

“Ten?!” 

“Yes.” Axel couldn’t understand the shock on Phan-tu’s face, so he reminded him, “I blew up your city!” 

“But, you—” Phan-tu started stuttering. 

Axel couldn’t place why the Prince’s shock irritated him. “Yes, it’s a fifteen-year sentence. Five years in here, three years in a halfway house, and seven years letting me know the justice system is always keeping an eye on me.” 

“That’s… more than I expected,” Phan-tu said gingerly. 

“I didn’t appeal for parole either,” Axel said with a shrug that almost seemed defeated. “My head therapist—the meanest therapist you’ll ever meet, by the way—recommended me for it. She said that if I stayed in here too long, I wouldn’t trust myself to leave. That I would cling to the concrete and durasteel bars in fear I would make another damaging choice.” 

Phan-tu opened his mouth, but Axel feared it would be something too sympathetic for him to handle. 

“Oh. One more thing: if I ever come in contact with one of my old associates from the Path, and I don’t report it immediately, I’ll be charged with conspiracy & treason and go away for life. My parole officer made sure I knew that one.” 

Phan-tu looked confused at the interjection. “Are you?” 

“In contact with anyone from the Path?” Axel scoffed, letting his mask slip back on. “What did I just say?” 

“No.” 

Axel’s face broke into a frown. He knew what was coming. 

“Are you worried about making a damaging choice?” It was a question, but it felt like a test. Axel had sworn to embrace honesty, but if he told the truth here, there might be consequences. 

“Yes,” Axel said quietly. “I’m trying my absolute best to put trust in myself to do the right thing every time, but the fear will always be there. Hopefully it’ll keep me in line. 

 “I know there will be temptation. The galaxy so lovingly offers me my vices with outstretched palms, but… I have done a lot of practice with the tools I need to resist them. And I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again. If I do then… then I’m breaking faith with those who are risking a lot to put it in me.” 

“Gella’s right,” Phan-tu said so quietly Axel knew he wasn’t meant to hear. Still, his entire being perked up. “I… missed you, Axel. I did. You came into my life like a tidal wave breaking on the beach, and then you left like a hurricane. I would have liked to play in the wet sand without worrying about the storm.” 

“So wonderfully poetic,” Axel took the risk to joke. “I missed you too. Oh! Uh, congratulations on the future little one.” 

Phan-tu’s entire demeanor shifted from pensive to disastrously excited. “Thanks, Axel. We have one already. She’s actually outside with Xiri now. Don’t tell Xiri, but I hope this one’s a boy.” 

“Well, don’t say that,” Axel said with a chuckle. “Surefire way to jinx it.” His smile fell. “Xiri’s here?” 

Phan-tu nodded, stroking his chin. “She wasn’t interested in speaking to you, but I think she did want to see where you were being kept.” 

Axel tried not to visibly deflate. “Oh. Yes. Well, in thirteen days I’ll be kept under my mother for one day a week and a halfway house for the rest. If you’re interested in touring the Greylark Residence, I could arrange that,” Axel joked instead. “Just tell me now because my parole officer has to vet my guests.” 

Phan-tu looked at him skeptically. When he spoke, it was not what Axel was expecting. “You’re missing Gella’s ceremony by twelve days?” 

Axel wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Yes was the correct answer, but Phan-tu had said it so sadly. 

“You’re going, right?” Axel asked. 

“Of course,” Phan-tu said. “That’s why I’m here. On Coruscant.”  

“Could…” Axel hesitated. “Could you do me a favor?” 

Phan-tu mirrored his hesitation. “What kind of favor?” 

Axel looked at the chrono, and he turned to the guard behind him to ask sweetly, “Officer, could you get me a pen and flimsi, please?” 

The guard looked at Phan-tu, who waved. 

The pen and flimsi were given, and Axel scrambled to write. “They’ll check my message before you leave. Just to make sure that, y’know, I’m not communicating with my former associates.” A gleeful smile overtook him. 

Phan-tu still looked skeptical. “And your message is…?” 

Axel rolled the flimsi up and shoved it through the plexiglass hole. 

Phan-tu looked up at Axel when he finished reading. His expression twisted in pain. “Axel…” 

Axel couldn’t fight the panic off his face. How could he have been so naive? Phan-tu owed him no favors. He owed him nothing except well-earned ire and detestment. 

“You love her,” Phan-tu said sorrowfully, folding up the flimsi. 

The Coruscant Prince found no words, ideas, or notions to respond. 

“You know she’s a Jedi, right?” Phan-tu asked.  

He did. “Well, yes,” Axel said with a slight laugh. “You’re going to her Master Ascension Ceremony.” 

Phan-tu opened his mouth and shut it several times. “She can’t, Axel.” 

Axel scowled in a way that would put Gella’s usual one to shame. “I didn’t write I love you, so you better love me back on it, did I?” 

“You do, though.” Phan-tu’s voice was so soft, and realization increased with every word. “You love her.” 

Axel bristled. He had spent the past five years being interrogated. This felt all too familiar, and he knew by now that honesty was the best and his policy, but this was different. 

“I know what she is. I know what I am,” Axel clarified. “You know, this was one of my very mean therapist’s first discussions with me. She saw through me too because I wasn’t careful enough. I brought up Gella and her faith in me at every session, and I got properly torn out for it

“You have to do things for yourself. Not just for her. Not just because you want a pleased reaction from her. Then she went on about these horrible scenarios of Gella dying and how I would have to rely on intrinsic motivation from now on.” 

Axel smiled ruefully. “She also pointed out several times that Gella was a Jedi. That… it didn’t matter how much I changed or loved her—I never said I loved her. She came to her own conclusion on that—Gella said vows, and Jedi seldom break them…” 

The Eirmani Prince looked at the note again. “Have you told her?” 

“No,” Axel said softly. “What good would that do? She did say vows. I don’t want to interfere with her… path.” 

Phan-tu shot him a skeptical look. 

“I don’t!” Axel said, exasperated. “She went on some date with that sleazy Chandrillan Senator—” 

“Gella? Our Gella? Went on a date?” 

“—and I didn’t even get jealous,” Axel argued, breaking his best policy. Phan-tu wouldn’t know it, though, so no harm done. “She can do whatever the damn Force wills her.” 

Phan-tu hummed, choosing to read over the words again. Axel pushed away the rising regret of even giving him the note. “The Force wills her to visit you a lot.” 

“We have good conversations,” Axel rationalized with a shrug. 

“I don’t doubt that,” Phan-tu muttered, properly folding it this time. “Alright. I’ll give it to her.” 

Phan-tu stifled a laugh as the pout on Axel’s face lit up into brilliant joy. “And there’s this floral shop on level 5127 between 9th and 10th Street on the corner of Abernue and Flemlock. Get her something purple. It’s the only color I know she likes unless they make flowers that look like sandy cardboard. 

“And I can pay you back for them in thirteen days—” 

“Axel. I won’t make you pay me back, but for the love of the Force—” Phan-tu leaned in, smirking at the curious expression creeping onto Axel’s face. “Do not break her heart again. Xiri and I will kill you and leave half your body rotting in the desert and half to the krel sharks.” 

Axel felt the urge to taunt him back, but even the thought of breaking Gella’s heart squashed all his humor away. “I’d rather die than hurt her again, so…” Axel smiled. “Good plan?” 

Phan-tu scoffed fondly. “You really are something, Axel.” 

“I try,” Axel said quietly, “to be something good.” 

“I can…” Phan-tu hesitated. “I can see that. That-that doesn’t mean that I trust you or particularly want to be friends again.”

It hurt to hear, but it wasn’t unexpected. “I understand.” 

“But I’m glad that you’re not coming out of here with the intention of selfishness or revenge. Or… seeking to destroy another city.” 

Axel shrunk. “Yes, I know that my mother sent relief aid galore to Erasmus, but if there’s anything—I don’t want to overstep—but if there’s anything I can do to help your city—your planets—I do have ideas. Ones that would be covered by the Ministry of Agriculture.” 

Axel waited as Phan-tu looked at the crumpled flimsi in his hand. 

Finally, the Prince said, “When I’m king, I’ll consider it.” 

Axel swallowed the lump in his throat to say, “I hope that’s still many years to come.” 

Phan-tu looked away from him. “It’ll come quicker than Xiri and I are ready for, regardless.” 

Axel felt it then. He had the urge to joke, but he would not do it to be cruel. “I don’t envy royalty. Becoming a king has to be the worst kind of promotion.” 

Phan-tu let out a dry laugh, meeting Axel’s eye again. “And you? Forever Coruscant’s prince.” 

“Forever?” Axel scoffed. “I believe I lost that title long ago.” 

“And yet you never became a king,” Phan-tu pointed out. 

“Thank the Force,” Axel said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Thank the Force? Gella really is rubbing off on you.” 

Axel smiled. “Thank the Force for that, too. Yes, she’s always raving about it in some fashion. Jedi and all that. She seems to think the Force calls her to you and Xiri, too. Though, I can’t understand why she can’t admit she wants to be around her friends.” 

Phan-tu nodded, though a grim expression overtook him. “The Force did call her to us twice. There was a bad revolt near the Rook about a year after we had established the treaty. She helped calm things down. Then…” The Eirami Prince paused, looking pained. 

“You don’t have to tell me—” 

“When Xiri gave birth, it… I almost lost her. The pregnancy itself wasn’t difficult, but the Monarch and my mothers had spent at least six months debating where Xiri should give birth, and then when it was happening, they still hadn’t decided.” 

Axel balked. “Are you serious?” 

Phan-tu swallowed thickly. “We were on a ship in Eirami space waiting for them to make up their damn minds. It should have been an easy delivery, but given how stressed Xiri was from arguing with her father and the lack of medical equipment on the ship…” The Prince winced. 

“...I crashed the ship into the Eirami Ocean or landed since we did float. Gella delivered Cordelia, but Xiri suffered a lot of blood loss. By the time med evac got there, she had been passed out a while. It was a long recovery. The Monarch was not happy. He wanted to be with his daughter, but no one on her medical team—Eirami and E’roni doctors—would clear moving her. So, I…” Phan-tu winced. “…ruled E’ronoh for a bit while the Monarch and Xiri were on Eiram. Gella mostly stayed with Xiri to help with Cordelia and to smooth over the Monarch’s rage.” 

Axel blinked in shock. “I’m so terribly sorry that happened.” 

Phan-tu shrugged. “We’ll be better prepared for this birth. He’ll be born on the Rook with an extensive medical team. E’ronoh wasn’t that abrasive toward my temporary regency, so I have hope my children will rule successfully.” 

“Gella only mentioned that you two had a baby. Not that she delivered it under duress,” Axel said. Though, when she had mentioned it, it had been right after the two-year stretch where she didn’t visit. There had been a lot to fill him in on.

“Well, delivered might be a stretch, but she was the only one on the ship that stayed fully conscious for the whole ordeal,” Phan-tu said with a slight chuckle. “I’m very grateful for her. I wouldn’t have my family otherwise.” The Prince shook the flimsi once. “I mean it, Axel. Don’t hurt her again.” 

“I won’t.” It felt good to say it with such certainty, and for a moment, Phan-tu’s face told Axel that he believed it. 

A trilling comm cut through the silence, and Phan-tu clicked it on. “Daddy!” 

Xiri A’lbaran’s exasperated voice warbled through the comm. “She wants to go to the—” 

“Park! ” the toddler’s voice finished.  

Axel had to laugh at Phan-tu’s wince. He said something apologetic to his wife while the little princess repeated park. The former Coruscnat Prince waved him off. 

“Go. Duty calls.” 

Phan-tu chuckled. “Coming, Xee.” He stood up, clutching the flimsi. “Who do I show this to?” 

“They’ll stop you to check it before you walk out of the other room.” Axel looked down at his folded hands. “Thank you again. For coming. For even wanting to come, your highness.” 

Phan-tu nodded, face suddenly serious. “Where’s the flower shop again?” 

Axel jovially repeated it. He watched Phan-tu leave with a gentle smile. He stayed in that chair until the guards fussed. 

He couldn’t even remember what he wrote on the flimsi. Though, it did concern him that Phan-tu had so easily seen through his emotions. He did love Gella; that much was true. It had taken him so much to clear his prejudice toward Jedi and admit it to himself in those damn caves beneath Dalna. 

He wanted to be proud of acknowledging it, but it was the finest double-edged sword money could buy. 

“Lamenting over something you can’t have?” Phan-tu had asked him once. Axel had avoided the question on Eiram then, but now all he could do was bask in it.

Notes:

Listen, the reason why this is late is because the first half of the chapter suddenly NEEDED to exist.

Me? Overwrite dialogue? No.... never...

Happy Valentine's Day ig!!

Chapter 4: Foliage

Notes:

Sorry, this is so late and overwritten! I have my screenwriting workshop on Wednesday nights, and everybody's notes for basically everyone's scripts that night was lack of conflict (not my script--my scripts are always perfect and flaw-free /j) However, that DID influence me to amp up the conflict in each interaction. So... some bloating in the dialogue.

But overwritten is just code for more content of Axel being pathetic, so I'll take it as a win!

The morning of Gella’s ascension ceremony, Axel’s mother came to visit. He welcomed the distraction, even if she didn’t call it that. Officially, this would be the last visitation for her. After leaving the room, she would fill out numerous forms to assure responsibility over him for one day a week under guardianship. 

The visit was mostly filled with her experience meeting with Officer Peblo and giving him a tour of the residence. 

“Your parole officer is...” 

“Unappealing in every manner?” Axel finished for her. “He’ll be excellent.” 

Kyong chuckled but then explained in great detail about him tearing up the penthouse. He demanded specific tools for her gardening be locked at all times when Axel was in the apartment. He stressed over and over again that Axel was not to drive or fly because all moving machines were “heavy-handed weapons.” Though, then, she paused.

“He mentioned that you wouldn’t be drinking of your own choice. Do you want me to remove all the liquor and wine from the residence?” 

“No, Mom.” Axel gave a second-long smile. “It’s up to me to control my urges, but thank you for the thought. Though, a lock on the wine cellar isn’t a bad idea.” 

Kyong smiled the worry off her face. “I’ll be more than happy to do that. And I’m so excited.” 

Axel mirrored her excitement, primarily for her sake. The disappointment of today pressed into him uncomfortably. The fear of thirteen more days suffocated him. The anticipation of freedom pried both those emotions away. 

“I do wish Officer Peblo would have let me keep you for the whole weekend,” Kyong remarked solemnly. 

Axel chuckled smoothly. “I think it’ll be good. I’ll have more opportunities to build a community in the halfway house.” 

“I met with your house manager too. Stern woman, but kind.” 

“Trying to butter you up for funds?” Axel suggested coyly. 

Kyong waved him off. “She seemed sincere about taking your rent directly out of your salary. If anyone awaits a bribe, it’s the Ministry of Agriculture.” 

Axel sighed dramatically. “Isn’t my free commission and funding of those gardens enough?” 

“I doubt it,” Kyong said. “They’re taking a risk hiring you. It would be less of a risk if they knew you could front bigger projects.” 

Axel winced. All his inheritance went into rebuilding Erasmus save for the mandatory 1.5% required to keep it in the savings account. 

“You will have the trust eventually,” Kyong pointed out. “So, maybe—” 

“I’m sorry? The trust?” Axel repeated. “Your trust fund is for your grandchildren.” It had been something he had resented growing up. Axel’s father had written in plain ink that his wife then son would benefit from all his wealth at the time of death. Kyong’s wealth, upon her passing, was to go into a trust with staggered release to twenty charities she supported and her grandchildren. 

“Who don’t exactly exist,” Kyong pointedly brought up. “It’s a revocable lifetime fund, so I could change the name of the trustee at any time.” 

Axel raised his eyebrows in alarm. “I don’t think you can make a felon still serving his sentence a trustee.” He knew all too well the rush he got from gaining and losing money. Having next to no personal funds was another guardrail he needed. 

“I won’t,” Kyong said with a shrug. “I would prefer to keep it in my nonexistent grandchildren’s names, but if that doesn’t happen… I’d be fine putting in yours and whatever service project you’re working on when the time comes.” 

“Please don’t speak like that,” Axel urged. The thought made his pulse jump against the cuffs. 

Kyong smirked. “Why? Because the thought of having children terrifies you or my inevitable passing?” 

I’m not having children, so no fear there, almost came rushing out of his mouth. He didn’t want to have that conversation here. He also didn’t want to have a conversation about her dying while he was in a prison jumpsuit. 

He knew his family, which consisted of the two of them and a few distant cousins, had essentially an infinite amount of wealth. They weren’t the Grafs (thank the Force) or the upcoming San Tekkas (thank the Force), but the Greylarks had dabbled in just about every kind of lucrative business since the dawn of the Republic. He knew a lot of money was still floating around his name, but he couldn’t trust himself to handle it. 

Not now. 

And especially not when his mother passed. 

“Both,” he offered lightly and diplomatically. He pivoted, “So, what kind of grand party are you going to throw me in thirteen days?” 

Kyong humoured him. She smiled so easily, even here. The weight of the Chancellorship taken off her shoulders accentuated her smile lines. His mother had not stopped working exactly. She was deadset on building a school in the Outer Rim, and she had been working on the logistics of it for the past five years on top of her very in-demand political consulting for all sorts of government systems. 

He hadn’t tarnished her name that much, which he was eternally grateful for. 

After Axel had laid out exactly the kind of grand buffet he wanted, he carefully added, “And can you invite Gella too? Would that be alright? We can spend the next day together. Just the two of us. But, I invited her to my release, and it would feel wrong to sort of ditch her for dinner.” 

Kyong smiled. “Of course, Axel.” She squeezed his hand. “Now, I’ve got a lot of forms to sign and contracts to glance over.” 

“I’ll see you for dinner in thirteen days, then,” he said, the phrase so normal that it no longer seemed so frightening. 

The next morning guard escorted Axel to a familiar room. Unlike most of the prison rooms, this one had a least a splash of color (the color being brown, but it was a stark contrast to all the grey). It also had an arm chair, modified on one side so that the prisoner could be cuffed to it. Still, it was fine leather that felt like as close to comfort as prisoners could get. 

His head psychologist was behind her desk, a huge piece of almost art, carved from a rare tree no doubt. 

Dr. Tierney barely even waited for him to sit down and be cuffed before spitting a question about how the visit with his mother went. 

Axel, to prove his good mood, flashed her a killer smile. “Wonderful, doctor. Truly.” 

Dr. Tierney was a sour mid-fifties Pantoran whose only joy in life was to snap at her clients, blame all the Galaxy’s problems on alcohol, and glare at her notepad. Axel had accused her of not paying attention on her third visit, only for her to explain snarkily that her notes had to be extensive in case the court took an interest in a terrorist’s rehabilitation progression and wanted to subpoena the record. In the past five years, Axel could have sworn the woman had not said one particularly nice thing to him, but he still put in effort to gain her kindness. 

Remembering her second favorite thing in life, Axel told her: “I told my mother about my planned sobriety. She was very supportive of it.” 

The pantoran did not look up from her datapad. “Good. Accountability.” She cleared her throat. “How’re you feeling about that?” 

Axel shrugged. “I’m sure it won’t be easy, but I do fear your wrath, so…” 

“If that’s what’ll motivate you.” Dr. Tierney rapidly wrote that down. “How’s your mood?” 

“Good.” 

“Baseline?” She looked at him and saw his confirming nod. “Good. Before we get started, I do apologize, but my granddaughter is having emergency surgery next week, so I won’t see you again until you’re in the halfway house. Michelle will see you twice next week to make up for my absence.” 

Axel offered condolences, but internally, he outright jumped for joy. 

Mrs. Michelle was the best —the most cheerful rodian in the galaxy. She actually looked at him during sessions and sprinkled in praise when Axel had earned it. He had felt comfortable enough to cry in front of her on multiple occasions. He had also unfortunately cried in front of Dr. Tierney once, but he would sooner die than repeat that incident. 

Axel figured that his therapy team was carefully constructed, but the good cop/bad cop role Dr. Tierney and Mrs. Michelle played was comical. Dr. Wyles was an older human man who showed Axel his lithium levels, asked two questions about his mood, and then sent him on his way. Jax, a burly devaronian, was the group therapist who would not continue with the team. He was an ex-con himself, and all of the prisoners gravitated toward him. 

Axel liked him, but Michelle was leagues better. 

Mostly because Michelle loved the gossip and grandeur of Axel’s old and new life, she truly liked listening to him talk about his social escapades and took full advantage by making him replay certain scenes where he had either treated someone poorly or been treated poorly. 

That sounds like a fun memory, but looking back, I think repeating that behavior now would hinder your progress. 

Dr. Tierney did not say nice things like that. She would have said, Can you recognize the pattern of self destructive behavior? Do we need to reflect more on how your choices were harmful to yourself and others? 

He was experiencing a lot of anxiety about his release, and he would have to come clean about it to Dr. Tierney, but he would much rather have Michelle’s gentle reassurance than Dr. Tierney’s psychological breakdown of his justified worry. 

“How’re you feeling about your release?” 

Axel smiled so he didn’t curse. “Nervous. Excited.” 

Dr. Tierney nodded. “Did you devise a schedule for your first weekend home?” 

“I talked with my mother about that this morning, actually,” Axel said. “I don’t have a strict release time, though. She’ll pick me up, and we’ll eat dinner at home.” He paused, licking his canine. He wanted to omit a detail very badly, but omitting details never from Dr. Tierney never served him. “I invited Gella, too.” 

Dr. Tierney raised a stern brow. “Ah. Then what? For the next day?” 

Axel held out his hand, touching a finger with each item. “Haircut. Shopping. Gym. Movie.” 

The pantoran nodded in approval. Though, when she was finished making note of that, she opened her mouth and then closed it. 

Axel braced for what was coming. 

“Gella. Did she say she was coming?” 

Axel rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “No. She said she wouldn’t make me any promises.” 

“Ah.” Obnoxious scribbling followed. “Are you prepared for her not to be there?” 

Axel breathed in deeply. It didn’t matter how fresh the insecurity brewing in him was; Dr. Tierney just had a knack for reaching in and throttling it. “Yes.” 

“Alright.” A few seconds of scribbling. “One of the first things I want you to do when you get to the halfway house is find consistent friends.” 

Axel scoffed, but he let her keep talking. 

“I have plenty of clients who came into that environment apprehensive, but it's a place of growth and healing. You will be able to tell those who aren’t dedicated to their progress fairly quickly. Find the ones that are, and work on forming bonds.” 

“Gella is a consistent friend.” 

Dr. Tierney shot him a testing look. “Axel, being flaky is quite literally written into her religion that she follows diligently.” 

Axel braved a laugh. “I don’t think the word flaky is written in the Code.” 

Dr. Tierney let him know she was still not amused. “You were distraught when she didn’t come to visit you for two years.” 

“Well, of course. I was worried about her.” 

“I’m sure,” Dr. Tierney deadpanned. “Still, nonattachment is a tenet in her life, and I want you to form relationships where you can have healthy attachments. People that will keep you accountable, but also bring you support, comfort, and joy reliably.” 

Gella does all those things, he desperately wanted to argue, but he knew that Dr. Tierney had a point. 

He had been very upset when she disappeared for two years. It had impacted him, and he swore that he’d learned from it. Gella was a Jedi. A fact he had known and despised about her from the moment meeting her. Then, he’d loved it about her. 

And now he was back to resenting it. 

No, he corrected himself. It’s a part of who she is. 

Dr. Tierney looked at him. “I’m just a little worried that when you get out of here, and she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings—” 

“What feelings?” Axel demanded, realizing his mistake after it had left his mouth. 

“Do you need me to point them out?” 

“Sure.” Axel glanced at the chrono. With one arm chained to the chair, he couldn’t cross his arms, but he would have. “Why not?” 

Dr. Tierney took a careful second. “You really care about her. You worry about her, you celebrate her, and you want her to like you. You care about what she thinks of you more than anyone else.” 

“She saved my life at her own peril twice. I owe it to her to be better,” Axel said softly. 

“You also owe it to yourself,” Dr. Tierney pointed out sharply. “You need to be better for you, not for someone else.” 

I know, the frustrated thought pounded on his tongue. Instead, he sighed, and it came out quietly. “I know.” 

A rare gentleness came onto the psychologist’s face. “I’m not saying you can’t have a relationship with her. I’m only advising you to give her the same emotional investment that she can give you. Once you’re out of prison, you’ll be vulnerable with your routine removed. I want you to be cautious and get a new routine set up as soon as you can.

“Your relationship with Gella and your mother is going to shift as well. There’s going to be no more prison in between you. You’ve discussed that with your mother.” She gave him a pointed look. 

But not with Gella, he realized. “No.” He cleared his throat. “Gella and I haven’t talked about it.” Only that I was allowed to buy her flowers, a little sickly voice of hope chirped. 

“Right.” 

“But Gella—” He stopped to force frustration down. “Gella doesn’t really do relationships. I don’t think anything will change. She’ll come visit when she wants, but her duty is to the Force. She’s-she’s a Master now.” 

“And are you completely okay with that?” 

“Yes,” Axel decided. 

Dr. Tierney nodded. “It’s okay if you’re not.” 

“I am.” He wanted to move on. Dr. Tierney had never liked Gella. 

You’re very attached to the authority figure that arrested you, she had said critically during their first session. 

But not mentioning Gella was being dishonest, and honesty was his policy. Though, every time he mentioned her, Dr. Tierney pointed out how essential routine and consistency were for him. Gella can’t provide that for you, Dr. Tierney had told him in hundreds of different ways. 

“Phan-tu and I had a productive conversation,” Axel said lightly. 

“Oh? Tell me about that.” 

Axel reflected on that conversation, highlighting that Phan-tu believed he’d changed but wasn’t open to friendship—though, it was tentative that he would accept Axel’s agricultural planning when he was king. 

“Excellent.” 

“He, uh.” Axel rubbed the back of his head. “I asked him to get Gella flowers for me. For her rank increase.” 

Dr. Tierney raised a cool brow. “And did he?” 

“I won’t know until I’m out.” 

“I know that you had to process a lot of disappointment about not being able to go to that.” 

“I did, but… maybe it was for the best. I’m a controversial figure, and Phan-tu mentioned that his wife wanted nothing to do with me.” 

Dr. Tierney hummed. “Xiri?” 

Axel nodded. 

“Well, how’re you accepting that?” 

“Well enough,” Axel said quietly. “I want to—I want to directly reconcile with Eiram and E’ronoh, but I understand if they—the heirs and the people—don’t want me anywhere near them again.” 

“That’s a good thing to accept.” Dr. Tierney scribbled on her datapad rapidly. “You were closer to Phan-tu, and you saved his life twice. And I think, arguably, you hurt him a lot more than Xiri because of how much he trusted you.

“She might just be protecting him because she knows he’s more receptive to trusting you.” 

Axel nodded, thinking about how she would snap at him on the Amaryliss anytime he antagonized Gella.  “Yes. She’s very protective.” 

“So that likely means listening to her. Don’t try to reach out again.” 

“Right. Right, respect the boundaries of those I’ve hurt,” Axel echoed. “Respect any future boundaries too.” 

“Have boundaries for yourself as well,” Dr. Tierney affirmed. “Watch the influential people in your life. Even if they were friends previously.” 

“I don’t have any friends save Gella.” 

Dr. Tierney gave him an unimpressed look. “Axel…” 

“I know! I know. Individuals from my past will probably want to reconnect to leech off me again. I know . Avoid relationships that will do me harm.” 

“You know, but do you feel prepared?” 

“Yes! Very.” Axel scowled. “Mundane life going forward. I’ll get to spend a day with my mother, live at the halfway house, go to work, make normal friends, and so forth. I’ll make it clear to any old associates that I won’t associate with them anymore.” 

“Then I think you can ease some of your anxiety about your release, then. I know a lot of your worry is about messing up again, but you have all of the tools and knowledge to avoid it.” 

He hadn’t expected that. 

“Stick to your routine. It’s a safety net that you can control. So long as you do what you plan, you’ll be able to avoid your vices. You can gradually start introducing things outside of it—like dating and big social events—once you reacclimate back to society. But I cannot stress how important routine will be to you. Do not go jumping into major life events until you know you can trust yourself to always fall into routine.” 

Axel scoffed. “My mother brought up grandchildren today.” 

Dr. Tierney looked at him with curiosity. “Has she ever done that before…?” 

“No. Not outside discussion of her trust,” Axel said quickly. Then, with an odd note of hurt, “Before my incarceration, she knew I was too broken for it. I was a public mess. She knew better than to suggest I drag offspring into the mix.” 

“So… well, how did it feel when she brought it up?” 

“I don’t want children,” Axel said. 

“That’s a fair decision,” Dr. Tierney said. “Children are a lot of responsibility and a lifelong commitment.” She paused. “Was her suggestion overstepping?” 

Axel sucked on his cheek. “A little. I worry that… I worry that she’s ready for me to be the perfect Greylark again. Find some socialite and start a family. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not. 

“I don’t trust myself to be someone’s partner or father. I don’t know if I ever will.” 

“Well, that’s good self-awareness. I don’t think raising a family is out of the realm of possibilities for you, but you definitely need to spend time building trust in yourself. Reflect and improve on how you treat others in romantic relationships, too.” 

Axel winced. “I know.” He dared to joke, “I’d like to keep my broken engagements at three.” 

 Dr. Tierney shook her head as she wrote that down. She shot him a cold look. “Once again, choose your relationships wisely. Don’t go after people who only want to enable you or see you as a means to an end. You deserve healthy, consistent relationships that lead to partnerships with people you can be entirely honest with. Tell your mother that you’re focusing on yourself first, then partnership, then the joint decision for children.” 

Axel opened his mouth to agree when the guard outside knocked on the door. 

Odd, Axel thought, glancing at the time. 

Dr. Tierney waved them in. 

“He’s got a visitor.” 

Axel watched the psychologist send him a stern questioning look. “I’ve got fifteen more minutes with him.”

Axel turned toward the door and asked, “Who?” 

The guard held up the datapad. “Princess A’lbaran Your guardian approved.”

“I’m sorry, did you say A’lbaran? ” Axel asked, shock written on his face. 

“Tell the Princess I’ve got fifteen more minutes with him,” Dr. Tierney snapped. 

The guard rushed out a yes ma’am and slipped out. 

Axel choked out an, “I—” He swallowed, unsure what to say. “I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Do you want to talk about your upcoming conversation with her or your feelings about your release?” 

Axel considered the question. “I can’t control Xiri. I can control my feelings about my release.” 

Dr. Tierney gave a rare look of approval. “Good, Axel. I have faith in you. I do. You’ve put in a lot of work.” 

“There’s more to be done.” 

“Take it slow,” Dr. Tierney said. “You have a pattern of taking on too much and getting frustrated to the point of burnout. You’ve done a lot already.” 

Dr. Tierney continued to emphasize routine, sobriety, and consistency until his ears were just about to fall off. 

“Two weeks,” Dr. Tierney stressed. “If an emergency arises, I’m sure Ms. Michelle will give you everyone’s comm code next week.” She glanced at her datapad. “Make sure you rest up after this conversation. Sleep . Watch your mood. Don’t act like the weekend is your last bit of freedom. You’re going to have to be careful. You haven’t encountered your typical triggers for mood swings in five years—” 

The guard came in. 

“Wait! Wait,” Axel said, standing up and making a motion to stop the guard from uncuffing him. He stood up awkwardly with one hand cuffed to the chair and extended a hand out to Dr. Tierney. 

She immediately scrutinized it. 

“I will watch my mood. Sleep. Stay sober. Avoid known triggers. Establish and keep my precious routine. Not doing anything  crazy this weekend.” 

Cautiously, she got up from her desk and shook his hand. 

“And I will be in your proper office in two weeks.” 

Dr. Tierney gave me a look that suggested she wanted to roll her eyes. “Good luck with the Princess, Axel. Be mindful.” 

Out of all the Amaryliss crew, Xiri had changed most appearance-wise, mainly due to the large bump in her mid-section.  

Axel sat, keeping up with her cold glare from behind the plexiglass, but he was confused as the guard roughly grabbed his cuffed hand and snapped another manacle connected to the chair’s arm. 

“She wanted maximum security measures,” the guard explained. 

Axel held his complaint under Xiri’s scrutiny. Wound tight like a vexis, she looked prime to strike. 

“Hello, Princess—” He made sure to say her title with respect rather than condescension. “—sorry to keep you waiting. I was with my therapist. I’m surprised you’re here—” 

Xiri got visibly angrier with every word he said, and he had half the rationale to stop talking, but he didn’t think he was saying anything provocative. 

Then, she spat out, “You made Gella cry.” 

That shut him up. 

What? When? How? tried to come flying out of his mouth all at once. Instead of sounding like coherent words, he let out a garbled choke. 

That also seemed to piss the Princess off. 

“I’m sorry?” Axel asked. His heart went into overdrive. Why? What had he done? He never wanted to see or hear about her crying. The memory of her curled in on herself, sobbing when those horrible creatures were running around, was enough to make his blood run cold. 

When? Was this recent? A time in the past? 

How? His mind reeled for any sort of action that would have hurt her. Guilt hit him like the debris from the tower of Erasmus. 

Orin? No. She had explicitly forgiven him for that. But maybe she missed him at her ceremony and blamed him all over again? 

He could barely ask the question on his dry tongue. “How? When was this? What did I do?” 

Axel couldn’t even ask a soft-spoken question without pissing her off. Her brows pinched and twitched. “You’re pathetic . But I’m sure you know that by now.” 

That did not answer his question, and panic struck him. 

Was she hurt? Had her injuries from Dalna flared up? 

The panic on his face must have irritated her further because she spat, “Those kriffing flowers and that damn card.” 

Oh. 

That was a lot better than Gella being hurt. 

He visibly relaxed, and that pissed the Princess off too. “And you had the nerve to drag my husband in it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking for clarification. “Did she not like the flowers?” 

Xiri’s lower lip trembled, and it was apparent she wanted to shout. “What do you think?” 

Axel sputtered, then said, “I actually have no idea! I—Gella told me I could buy her flowers when I got out of prison. I didn’t—was she that upset that I found a workaround?” 

Xiri glowered at him, spitting out an angry laugh. “You can’t be this naive.” 

“I am. I am very out of the loop,” Axel explained desperation in his tone. “I didn’t mean to upset her, Xiri.” 

“Well, you did, Greylark.” 

Axel opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to run away. The pull to avoid the harm of his actions was so tempting—so familiar—that he almost stood up. 

“Why?” Xiri demanded. 

“Why what?” 

“Did you give her those damn flowers?” Xiri was practically seething. 

“Because I wanted to make her feel appreciated. You know—like when you graduate, you get a bouquet. She seemed fine with it,” Axel rationalized. His mind was still reeling as to why she could possibly be so upset. He tried retracing their conversation, and he had told her his entire hypothetical plan. She hadn’t shot any of it down, had she?

“Oh, so it was entirely selfless?” she accused sarcastically. 

“Yes!” Axel exclaimed. Frustration was now itching below his skin. Why had the flowers made Gella cry? What could I have possibly said in the note? 

Why wasn’t Xiri telling him. 

“I truly did not mean to upset her. Was it—did she get in trouble for them?” 

They were flowers for kriff’s sake! The Jedi Order wasn’t so rigid to slap a Jedi Master on the wrist for receiving notes and flowers, were they? 

“No, she—” Xiri exclaimed in frustration. Her glare shifted into resignation. “I don't know why I bother with you.” 

Axel licked his lower lip before sighing. He took a calm breath in and said, “I don’t know either. You have every right to be angry. You trusted me, and I hurt you. I hurt your husband. I ruined your wedding. I am immensely—” 

Xiri shouted, “You hurt Gella!” 

Axel blinked. His heart tightened as he waited for the Princess to continue, anxiety spiking and telling him she’s hurt again—you hurt her again. 

“You hurt her the most,” Xiri hissed. 

“I did,” Axel admitted. “I did. I hurt her in unspeakable ways—” 

“Well, you should speak them. Give yourself a damn reminder of what you did.” 

Axel winced. 

“Maybe then you’d stay away from her.” Xiri scoffed with so much bitterness in the simple sound. “I love her, Greylark. I love her more than you ever could. Then you even think you do. She saved all of us, but she brought my daughter into this world.” Xiri sniffled. “I owe her everything you do a thousand times over.” 

Anger, double fold, came creeping back into her words. “And I love her enough to respect her damn vows, even if it feels like I’m ignoring someone who is my sister. I sure as hell don’t send her handwritten letters and flowers. I know that you’ve lived the life of a playboy that got to seduce and fuck anyone you wanted—” The Princess’s lip wobbled. “—but you may not come into her life and play roughhouse with her feelings because it could ruin everything she’s worked toward.” 

Xiri sniffled and wiped her eyes, red-rimmed from anger. Though, when she looked back at him, she seemed to realize him for the first time. Instead of a subject of loathing and past resentment, she saw someone who she had once called a friend. Her veil of anger almost dropped entirely. 

“And she was so happy yesterday, Axel. She looked like she could fix every problem in the Galaxy—the confidence, the certainty, and then she opened that damn letter, and…” 

The revelation was a welcome relief before Axel processed how bittersweet it was. The flowers hadn’t upset her, but the gesture had moved her. 

Softly, Captain A’lbaran said, “She looked like she was holding her heart in her hands, Axel. All that confidence and certainty just disappeared.” 

He couldn’t imagine that his quickly scribbled words had done that. Still, he had to appreciate Xiri retracting her hostility. He almost wanted to laugh at Dr. Tierney being right. 

“I… Princess Al’baran, I told your husband this, but I am very aware that Gella is a Jedi. I am also very aware that I am a felon and will be a convict for the next ten years. We… I’m not trying to be anything with her other than maybe her friend.

 “I know how important it is to her—being a Jedi. I would never try to jeopardize her livelihood and life’s ambitions. If I overstepped with the letter and bouquet, I’ll acknowledge it and make it clear it won’t be repeated. 

“Also, not to antagonize you, I swear, but you were physically at the ceremony. Isn’t that demonstrating some form of attachment?” 

Xiri blinked, scowled, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, she told me once that it was always difficult to form bonds with others growing up, and she had to reflect on how much she cared about my family because she never had experienced that level of closeness.” 

 Xiri huffed in frustration and shook her head. “After I gave birth to Cordelia, the Council advised her to let other Jedi handle our sector. And that she had to reflect on her attachment to Phan-tu, me, and our daughter.” 

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Axel decided. “She’s built rapport with its future leaders.” He scoffed. “The Jedi Order has to be one of the most counterintuitive organizations in the Galaxy. What is so wrong with visiting your friends? Investing in them? Especially since your friends are a very valuable royal couple.” 

“She—” Xiri sighed again, frowning. She sharpened her eyes, likely distasting his conversational comment. 

 “I don’t know. Fear of loss? The Dark Side? She explained it once. But I haven’t seen her since she departed Eiram. When Cordelia was born.” 

The future Monarch of E’ronoh chuckled darkly. “Then, when I do see her again, she tells me how often she visits you .” 

Axel’s heart got dunked in guilt. “Oh.” He pushed any gloating he might want to drag up aside. Aw, so you’re jealous that Gella’s giving me all the attention, Princess? 

He didn’t trust the plexiglass’s strength to fend off Xiri’s wrath in the slightest. …and it would be mean to say. 

“If it’s any comfort to you, you’re not a threat to the Galaxy like me. I’m sure the Council is aware that she arrested me and well, if I leave here and immediately blow up another city, I’m sure that doesn’t exactly look good on her record.” Axel dared to smile at Xiri’s face which was stony. “Plus, she invited you to her little Jedi Graduation. She cares about you enough to invite you into her sacred home. Quite literally. I do think it’s sacred.” 

Xiri’s thin frown upturned for a brief moment. It didn’t last long. “I don’t want your comfort.” 

“I understand.” Axel would have put both hands up in surrender, but only one was available. 

“I want you to stay away from her.” 

His hand fell back down, slowly. 

“I want you to get out of here and find other being’s life to ruin,” Xiri ordered. 

“I don’t intend on ruining anymore lives—” 

Xiri snapped, “You know what I mean! Go find someone who hasn’t taken vows of nonattachment. Anyone else. Preferably not another criminal, but not Gella.” 

“I really don’t think that she’s at risk of breaking vows for me,” Axel argued with a slight laugh.  

Xiri blinked, in what seemed to be dumbfoundment. “You—Why do I bother?” 

Axel shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you only here to reprimand me about the bouquet? Phan-tu mentioned you didn’t want to speak to me.”

“I didn’t,” Xiri said briskly. “But, I…” She paused, licking her teeth. “You left a better impression on my husband than the last time we saw you. 

“I’ll always remember how you saved us, Axel. Even if you were just playing a part when we were taking hostage, you saved me. You saved Phan-tu. Twice. I know you weren’t playing a part when you took that sting for him.” 

Axel’s eyes smarted. 

“You broke our hearts, Axel. You did. I suffered betrayal after betrayal from so many E’roni soldiers and even from my own squadron, but yours somehow hurt the most. 

“I don’t know if I’m capable of forgiving you.” 

That hurt, but he nodded in understanding. 

Xiri kept going, “I do know that I’d rather not be actively angry with you.

“But then, you pulled that stunt with the bouquet—I told Phan-tu not to do it, but he had this weird sense of duty to you, of all people.” 

A lump formed in Axel’s throat. 

“And I am. I’m angry. I’m angry that you make her care about you.” 

Axel pressed his hands together. “Xiri, I—I don’t make her do anything.” He weirdly choked on the last words. She started shaking her head. 

“You were always good at making people like you.”

“But I’m not that person anymore,” Axel argued carefully to watch how defensive he got. “I don’t want people to like me. I want people to know me.” 

Xiri seemed surprised when he said that. 

“Not know about me or of me, but know me. Know all my past flaws, my current ones, my ambitions, my goals, who I am. And if they don’t like it, they can leave. I’m not pretending anymore. 

“Xiri, I promise. She knows me, and that’s—that’s why she cares. I’m not putting on a front like I did on Pipyyr so she would worry about me, and so that I could take advantage of her. I’ve been completely honest with her since I broke her out of that cell on Dalna. 

“You’re protective of her. You love her. I get it. I’ve hurt her. You are under no obligation to believe me when I say that I will never hurt her again, but I’m being honest with myself when I say I will never hurt her again.” 

Xiri scrutinized him for what felt like an hour. She finally broke their awkward staring contest. 

“I’d like to test your honesty.” 

He had to admit that this felt fair. “Go ahead?” 

He hoped she going to ask something ridiculously niche and personal. If she asked him which of her (likely) objectively cringe-worthy baby names he preferred, he might be tempted to leave. 

(Phan-tu had definitely named Cordelia). 

“You want her.” 

He opened his mouth, shut it, and waited for his mind to come up with a word other than the string of Kriff, shit, dammit echoing in his head. 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Clarify,” he had the audacity to say. 

Xiri leaned forward tauntingly. “You’d love to sweep her off her feet the second you get out of her, pluck her out of the Jedi Order, put her in your bed, and have her for the rest of her life.” 

He regretted asking her to clarify so incredibly much. In fact, he regretted ever meeting Xiri A’lbaran. He especially regretted coming into this visitation room. 

Sweat ran between the back of his shoulder blades, and he tugged at his jumpsuit collar with his free hand in an attempt to make himself cooler. Though, her demand was not going anywhere, so he looked her square in the eye. 

“Yes,” Axel said softly, but not daring to look away from her.

 Smug satisfaction crept onto the Princess of E’ronoh like a creeper girdling a tree trunk. 

 Then, much firmer, he added, “But that doesn’t mean I will or will even try to.” 

Xiri’s face softened a fraction. “I don’t believe you.” 

“I love her more than I want her!” 

That response hung in between them for a long while. Xiri was stunned into silence, and Axel was surprised he had admitted that out loud. 

He composed himself, quipping, “And while I don’t love her as much as you, as we’ve established, I love her, Xiri.” His tone turned more sincere. “When I danced with her at your wedding reception, I asked her if she wasn’t a Jedi, could we be real friends. She told me if ‘I wasn’t a Jedi, I wouldn’t be me,’ and I resented that so badly. I didn’t want to be friends with—much less love—a Jedi. 

“But now I accept it. I accept that I love her. I accept that she’s a Jedi. And I accept that those two things are moderately incompatible in a traditional sense.” He smiled, mostly to himself. “Was that honest enough for you?” 

Xiri still displayed some of the most tightly closed-off body language known to the Galaxy. 

He waited patiently for her cold stare to abate, but it didn’t. 

“Loving her won’t stop you from hurting her. You started loving her when she gave you that damn parachute, and you still hurt her over and over. 

“And you will hurt her again.” 

She said it with such certainty it terrified him. He wanted to argue, but she kept going. 

“I don’t know how. I don’t think it’ll be as big of a betrayal as murdering innocent people and blowing up a city, but it’ll be something. And when it happens, I want you to know that I have no reservations about killing you.” 

She stood up, and Axel gulped, scooting back all the way in his chair.  

She towered over him, truly testing his faith in the plexiglass. “So if you do something, anything, that makes her cry again, you better find a the deepest hole in the Galaxy to hide in because—” 

The door swung open, followed by a loud bang. 

Three huge and burly but entirely sheepish guards hovered tentatively behind a toddler with pinched brows and auburn hair pulled into tight buns on her head. 

“Mommy!” 

Xiri’s entire personality did a 180. She stood up immediately, picking up her daughter and giving the guards a sharp look. “Cordelia, how’d you escape Daddy?” 

How’d she grab the handle? Axel wondered because in front of him was a toddler who barely stood past her mother’s knee. Still, though, he was smiling. 

Despite her mother just about threatening to skin Axel alive, Cordelia was arguably one of the cutest kids he’d seen. Anyone could plainly see she was Xiri’s, and even more obviously, she was Phan-tu’s. The little green freckles—maybe even the exact pattern of them—were his. 

“I wanna go home!” 

“We will after I get done talking to the very bad man.” 

“Aw, you waited to see me before leaving?” Axel dared to tease. How likely was it that Xiri would threaten violence in front of a child? “I’m touched.” 

 “Watch it, Greylark.” 

“She’s very cute. Much nicer than you. Though, I suppose I’ve given you every reason to hate me, and you haven’t told her yet.” 

“Oh, I told her,” Xiri said smugly before kissing her daughter’s head. 

On cue, Cordelia pointed. “Bad man.” 

Axel had to smile. “Perceptive. She’ll make an excellent Queen.” 

Xiri believed that. Maybe it didn’t matter who it came from, but it felt good to watch her agree with something he said. 

Her demeanor changed from adoration, looking at her daughter, to melancholy as she looked in the distance. Then, to him. 

“I wouldn’t have her if it wasn’t for Gella.” 

Cordelia smiled at Gella’s name, nuzzling into her mother. 

Axel wanted to tell her that he understood. He could only imagine the kind of debt he would owe someone for saving his child. 

Though, he couldn’t imagine oweing Gella any more than he already did. What more is there than everything? 

Axel braved a question in the silence. “I’m… Why do you think I’ll hurt her again?” 

Xiri scowled, adjusting Cordelia in her grip.

“Because you love her.” Xiri gave him a look of pure loathing. “And you don’t see it yet, somehow, but she…” The Princess cut herself off to glare at the wall. 

Axel blinked. “But she?” 

Xiri cursed. “No. Figure it out on your own.” 

The inmate opened his mouth to protest. How was he supposed to avoid hurting Gella if Xiri was withholding details? Though, given how her hostility had only increased during their conversation, he wasn’t hopeful that he was going to get anything out of her. 

“Well, uh, thank you for visiting. I’m glad you and your daughter are well, and I hope you have an easy and safe delivery with this one,” he said diplomatically. “And I’m sorry. Truly. For everything. For all the harm I’ve caused.” 

Very obviously surprised, both at Axel’s compliment, apology, and the subtle dismissal, Xiri nodded curtly. Still, she hesitated as she began to head toward the exit. 

Xiri stopped in the doorway. She turned toward him, eyes full of blazing ire. “She loves you too.” 

There was allegedly air in the room, but none of it reached Axel’s lungs. 

“And that could ruin everything for her,” Xiri said, completely calm. “Nothing would hurt her more than to lose her family, Axel. Her purpose. Her life’s work. And you’re selfish enough to take it away to get what you want.” 

She took no joy in the pain and confusion blending on his face. “Goodbye, Axel Greylark.” 

Cordelia outright laughed and waved. “Bye bye, Bad Man!” 

Axel should have waved back at her. He should have joked that Cordelia was his favorite visitor he’d had in five years. 

But he couldn’t even come up with the quip. 

The only thing his brain wanted to think was, “she loves you too.”

Notes:

Yes, I am aware of Beware the Nameless. Sorry if Xiri was a lil ooc, but conflict (and we know Gella, Phan-tu, and his mother aren't going to cuss him out like he deserves, so...)

Additional Core Four one-shot taking place between Chapters 3 & 4 here as an apology for being late!

Chapter 5: Ribbon

Notes:

...yes this is late, but it's 11.5k words so hopefully that makes up for it!

Axel: idk im just a lil nervy felon idk if im a good boy idk yet im scared maybe i should just stay in prison

Axel the SECOND he gets out of jail:
Where Is My Gella I Have To Show Her That I Am The Goodest Boy WHEREISSHE

Despite Axel wishing he could dismiss the weight of Xiri’s words, he couldn’t. He explained to Mrs. Michelle how definitely Xiri had declared that he would do harm again and, in turn, got a careful reminder that he was in control of himself and that only he could make the decision to do harm. 

“I don’t know if it’s that simple.”

“It has to be,” Mrs. Michelle said gently, holding a cup of tea in her hand. Mrs. Michelle’s office was starkly similar to Dr. Tierney’s. Except the chair she had her clients sit in was green, and she kept a box of snacks next to it. 

Axel rubbed his chin. “Xiri’s worried that my feelings about Gella will cause harm.” 

Mrs. Michelle hummed, putting down the tea. “Can our feelings and thoughts harm others?” 

Axel tightened his jaw. “No. Not unless we express them outwardly.” He tensed. “But Gella is a Jedi.” 

The rodian hummed. “She is. Does she seem the type to read your mind without permission?” 

Axel sighed, rubbing his temple now. “She did when we weren’t exactly on the best terms.” 

“When you might have been a threat?” Mrs. Michelle suggested, not unkindly. “And does she seem like the type to not understand that we can’t exactly control our thoughts?” 

“No.” Axel swallowed. 

“Then I don’t think your thoughts are going to harm her, Axel.” The rodian gave him a warm smile. “What feelings are you worried about?” 

Axel smiled and withheld a chuckle. “Oh, c’mon, you know.” 

Mrs. Michelle returned his smile as if she ever dropped it. “Why would those feelings hurt her?” 

“Because she’s a Jedi.” 

Mrs. Michelle gave a little friendly shrug. “I’m sure Jedi know how to handle attraction from other beings toward them.” 

Oh. Right. How completely logical. 

“And I think it would be good to have a conversation about the boundaries of your friendship, given your release will change a lot,” Mrs. Michelle pointed out. 

Axel agreed. “I am trying to be honest, though. And I worry this is an instance that I won’t be able to be.” 

“How so?” 

“Because I don’t want to lose her,” Axel said quietly. 

Axel swallowed, shifting in his seat as he explained how Gella had been advised to stay away from Xiri due to attachment concerns. 

“You can accept that she can’t be yours,” Mrs. Michelle said gently. 

He accepted it. He had accepted it. This was not a new point. It only surfaced because the situation was testing him. So, incredibly soon, there would be no prison holding his longing emotions in a container. He would have to take responsibility and reign them in himself. 

He had to. Otherwise, he would prove that Xiri was right. The last thing he wanted was to grow his selfish feelings into tangible actions that would harm them both. 

“You can approach the conversation with honesty. Maybe don’t make it a headstrong declaration of lifelong love—that might make her uncomfortable,” the Rodian said with a chuckle. “Start with the basics. You’re friends. Her support has meant a lot to you. You owe your life to her. But you can acknowledge her position on attachment and ask how your relationship needs to look going forward. Sound fair?” 

Axel agreed. 

There were a million other small things he had to finalize before his release. He locked down the schedule of the weekend of his release for a safety net. He contacted his boss to reaffirm his start date. He listened to his lawyer review his parole terms for the fifth time. He wrote a letter thanking his case manager (despite never meeting them). 

Then, one morning, he woke up on his prison cot, in his prison cell, for the last time. Nothing was special about the day except the date. 

He carefully got out of bed, slipped into the communal sonic, groomed, and put on his jumpsuit for the last time. 

Other inmates knew, too. He got congratulatory pats on the back at breakfast and snarky looks from others as they ate. Some of them he would try to reconnect with after their own release, but most he knew would have to stay in this era. 

He went to the gym to settle his nerves. He found comfort in the physical and mental strength he gained. 

By lunch, though, the nerves were back. His body felt content from the well-earned use, but the yearning for out was battling against the comfort of in. 

He wished it were yesterday. 

He didn’t finish his food. Today, he had no group therapy scheduled, no assigned work, and a single word: Release had blocked his whole day. 

Release only came when the system beckoned him, though. Nothing was to be done except waiting for a guard to retrieve and bring him to processing. 

Going to his cell seemed wrong. He didn’t want to hide behind bars or embrace the familiarity of the closed walls. 

He went to the yard instead. The outdoor space wasn’t as oppressive as the rest of the prison, but it was no park. There was greenery and Coruscant’s sun even touched his skin. He sat on the carefully trimmed grass, closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. The stillness and focus helped calm some of his jitteriness. 

It wasn’t a complete cure, but it definitely mitigated the worst of it. 

“Axel?” 

Axel smiled up at Jax’s familiar voice. “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

“You were going to leave without telling me goodbye,” Jax pointed out, sitting beside him. 

Axel touched his heart fondly. “My case manager made sure I had a very important appointment with release. All day today. No time for silly things like group therapy.” 

Jax smiled. “They’re not making it easy for you, are they?” 

Axel’s smile faltered. “It’s just part of the punishment, I’m sure. Waiting.” 

“Your crimes are intergalactic. They’re probably just notifying all the places that you’ve offended of your release. Takes a bit.” 

“Oh,” Axel deadpanned. 

“I’m sure you’re sick of being asked, but how’re you feeling?” 

Axel swallowed thickly. “I don’t know. Everything. Nervous. Excited. I would kill for the anticipation to be over.” 

Jax nodded in sympathy. “First time I was let out, prison I was in had a strict at midnight policy. I could not wait to run out of there.” 

Axel chuckled. “So it’s a blessing in disguise that they’re turning the lock of freedom so slowly?” 

Jax flashed a wild smile. “I killed someone else before the sun was up. And I had served longer than you. It took a week for them to catch me. Plucked me from where my gang was hiding and dragged me out as an example.” 

Axel had heard the story before, but he listened fondly anyway. 

“I took those seven years behind bars for granted. Every day I sat plotting on how to get back at those who I didn’t get to hurt the first time.” Jax let out a long breath. “It took a second round to realize that the only person I had been plotting to hurt was myself.

“You’re the exact opposite.” 

Axel let himself smile at that comment until he noticed how deeply Jax was frowning. 

“Which is why I’m worried you’re going to end up back here.” 

Axel sputtered out a why. 

“I’m not worried about you reoffending. Your days of blowing up your buddies’ cities are over. No. Your weakness is that you want to atone. Parole will put restrictions on how you can do that. You may be tempted to break parole terms because you think violating them will help you purge the Galaxy of your mistakes.

“But that’s part of the punishment. You can’t do everything you want to do, even if what you want to do is good.” 

Jax clapped him on the shoulder. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have faith, but I am allowed to worry. Last thing I want is you to end up back in group, complaining about the time your mother didn’t notice your manic behavior because she sent you on a pleasure cruise where you ended up in a sauna with—” 

“Point taken! Point taken,” Axel said with his hands up before following in a chuckle. He drew his knees into his chest, folding his arms and leaning on them. “I won’t end up back here.” 

Jax nodded with a hesitant smile. “Just remember that your freedom is false until that parole chip is out of you. Your punishment is far from over.” 

It would never be over. Axel knew that. 

“But,” Jax said, smiling wickedly, “I think your incarceration is.” He nodded his head toward the east gate where two guards were approaching. 

Axel watched them come toward them for a second, evaluating their intention. Then, he tried to return Jax’s smile, but he knew that the one on his face was more woozy than anything. 

Jax seemed to think that was funny as well, standing up and offering Axel a hand. The inmate took the opportunity to hug him, catching him a little off guard before it was reciprocated. 

Jax pointed at him, taking a step back. “Remember, Axel, I don’t want to see you ever again, got it?” 

“Mr. Greylark?” the guard behind him said, sounding impatient. 

“Got it.” 

“And stay sober,” Jax called as he walked off. 

“Yes?” Axel replied, turning toward the guards, both with twin sour expressions on their faces.

“Your release has been processed. Do you have any items you wish to retrieve?” 

No. No, he wanted to get the fuck out of here and never need to come back. 

The guard cuffed him and escorted him to a section of the prison he had never been to. The wandering hallway took several sharp turns until they reached a plexiglass window where a nautolan woman with a snarling upper lip handed him another datapad with fine print on it. She surmised the information, snapped at him to sign here no less than fifty times, and then snatched it back. 

“Check his chip,” she barked. The guard behind her hovered a scanner over Axel’s shoulder blade and the machine beeped happily after a moment. The nautolan waved them off. 

Then, he was whisked into a nearby room. It looked identical to a cell in the facility, except the only thing in it was a humble metal bench attached to the room opposite the door. On it, sat clothes and shoes. His clothes and shoes. 

He was uncuffed, given orders to change and leave his jumpsuit in the room. The door slammed shut, and he was left alone with his clothes.

He approached them they they would detonate. His hands trembled when he forced his fingers to pick up the shirt. He held his very tentative and conditional freedom in his hand. Taking ample time to analyze the weight of it, he felt the fear, the doubt, the excitement, and the relief. 

He let out a deep breath, pushing out the fear and doubt. He removed his jumpsuit, breathing in the excitement, relief, and hope. 

He dressed quickly, mindful of the time he had taken to discard his prison wear and kncoked on the door. 

The guards opened it, and Axel held out his hands on instinct to be cuffed, but the guards shot him a quizzical look. They motioned him out. “You just signed into parole, bud.”

Axel wiped off the initital confusion on his face and replaced it with what he hoped was confidence. They steered him back to the window with the nautolan warden who spouted information he already knew: halfway house check in, curfew, felony parole expectations—

The more she talked, the dizzier he felt. His clothes seemed too light and heavy all at once. 

Her green finger over a button, eyeing the metal gate on the right. She spat out that his parole officer had been notified of his release and that his parole began now and would be effectively terminated in ten years and three months with a Federal Judge’s signature. 

She pushed the button, and the gate slowly opened. 

“Your guardian will check you out at the front.” 

He ignored the instinct to ask “that’s it?” or linger. He gave the woman a grateful mod and headed past the gate. Down this hall, the end was two plexiglass doors that had a warning written in red: 

ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION IS A FEDERAL CRIME. 

He only had a second to wonder if anyone had ever gotten so far when he saw who was on the other side of the glass. 

His smile was so wide it hurt, and he nearly broke into a run. 

“Slow down, Mr. Greylark!” 

Axel stopped, turning to the guard booth next to the doors, but the sharp order didn’t mute his smile. 

His mother smiled too, fighting off the urge to cry. Axel was impressed that she hadn’t slipped into her political stoicism.

She gradually slipped into her mask as she conversed with the guard, handing over her ID and nodding as the guard explained the responsibilities of guardianship that both Greylarks had heard at least a dozen times prior. Kyong acknowledged and confirmed every question the guard asked, but she only had eyes for her son. She barely looked down to sign her name on his final release form. 

The sentry asked him to give final consent to be released under guardianship, and Axel couldn’t say fast enough. 

Shaking his head with apprehension, the sentry said, “You’re free to go.” 

A loud click—more like a clang—signaled the locks had been released. He pushed through the doors so quickly that he was shocked they didn’t shatter. In front of him stood the woman he had probably let down the most, with a warm smile and outstretched arms. 

Axel couldn’t run into them fast enough. 

They had said so much to each other over the past five years. Not all of it good. Multiple times, Kyong walked out of the visitation room with frustration and disappointment. In turn, there had been several times that Axel considered skipping out when she visited.

But he never had. He owed it to her to show up. As his best self. In that visitation room and now. 

“Hi, Mom,” he whispered into her hair, treasuring her hold on him. He hadn’t hugged his mother in five years, and the thought made him hold her tighter. 

“Hi, Axel,” his mother said, pulling back with a bright smile. He mirrored it identically. Their eyes sparkled with the same tears, too. 

“I missed you,” he admitted with a quick wipe to his eyes, his smile refusing to falter. 

“I missed you, too,” Kyong said, taking his hand. “I’m so proud of you. I’m so glad you get to come home.” 

Axel faltered under the praise but eagerly walked with her out of the lobby and into the Coruscanti air. He had just been outside not an hour prior, but this was different. 

He heard the city's roar much clearer. Flashing signs glittered off in the distance as the sun set. Traffic flowed and waned in the sky. It was so untraditionally beautiful. 

His appreciation for beauty stirred up thoughts of something else beautiful. 

Someone. 

He smiled sadly at the Coruscant skyline, eyes drifting toward the Jedi Temple, decorating the upper level. 

Kyong ushered him toward a speeder. Axel approached apprehensively when he noticed it was not one from their regular fleet, nor was there a driver. 

“You're flying?” 

Kyong shot him a playful look. “Well, you’re certainly not.” 

Axel flushed with embarrassment. He would need to get used to people pointing out he was on parole. He conceded with a nod and climbed into the passenger seat. 

“It’s just, last time you flew, I think you crashed,” Axel pointed out wryly as he buckled. 

“Ah. Yes. After you lured me into a battle,” Kyong shot back, smiling so the blow would land less harshly than her landing on Dalna. 

Axel still winced. “Sorry, Mom.” 

Kyong smiled, booting up the simple speeder controls. “You’re forgiven if you don’t comment on my flying the whole way there.” 

He didn’t. There was too much to talk about. Kyong explained that she had bought herself a speeder with the security shackles of chancellorship removed. It was a collector's model, too. Her retelling of acquiring it amused him. 

Axel reiterated his schedule for tomorrow. “You’ll come shopping with me, right?” 

“Nowhere else I would rather be,” Kyong said fondly. 

Axel smiled, but a pang hit his heart. “Do you have my comm? I was going to try to reach Gella.” He hadn’t asked why she wasn’t here, and his mother hadn’t bothered to explain. The blanket excuse would be something like Jedi business. “Maybe she can come with me to the movie.” 

He regretted admitting his hope aloud because that sounded like… well, they both knew what it sounded like. 

Kyong shook her head. “I left your comm in your study. Sorry.” 

“No worries.” Axel's smile fell, but he picked it back up, admiring the cityscape once again. The energy of Coruscant revved him up. Not because of the chaos, but because of the opportunities. The first, was in this very speeder, and he wouldn’t take his mother or the chance to bond and grow with her for granted. 

He was disappointed that a certain Jedi Master wasn’t here, but, potentially, he had many opportunities to see her again. 

The speeder was still in the landing sequence when he noticed. The door was locked, but it was no match for a couple of rushed twists on the release. 

Axel heard his mother protest as he leaped onto the ground, and he probably scuffed the expensive pants he had just been reacquainted with. But the only tell of worry that affected him was Gella’s shocked face. 

Which was easy to discard because he didn’t care one bit about her worry about his meter jump or rushed behavior—she deserved to fret after pulling this kind of nonsense. 

The audacity for her to stand at the front of the Greylark Residence in golden robes, holding a bouquet of red sunrise lilies. 

But the Jedi Master did not recoil; she did not show any disapproval; she did not push him away when he embraced her so tightly the plastic protecting the bouquet crinkled. 

“Hi, Axel,” she said with a hint of a choke. She only embraced him with one arm, but her strength was still rib-crushing. He held her much more delicately as if he were afraid this was all a mirage and would shatter if he squeezed it too hard. 

Axel said, wispy and light, “You came.” 

“You’re crushing the flowers,” Gella complained, even if more than half the crushing was from her. 

Axel pulled back from the embrace, shaking with laughter strong enough to make the tears brewing in his eyes fall. She reached up to wipe them away, and he caught her hand like she had caught his chained ones so many times. 

“I thought…” Axel wiped his own eyes and turned to shoot a glare at his mother approaching them, still holding her hand. “You two went behind my back.” 

“Maybe,” Kyong said with a fond smile. 

Gella shrugged, but Axel could see mischief written delicately on her face. “My schedule has been a bit chaotic recently, and with the prison not able to get a clear release window… I figured dinner would be easier.” 

“And what’re you wearing? This is… nice.” 

Gella looked down, glancing curiously at herself. “Oh. You’ve never seen a Jedi in Formal Temple Robes?” 

Axel figured he probably had, but never on her. They were extraordinarily elegant, and the rich cream and gold made her look rich both in beauty and taste. 

Stop it, he scolded himself. 

He still couldn’t stop looking at her. Even as his mother ushered them both inside, he only wanted to keep needling her. 

“Got all dressed up for me, then?” Axel teased. 

Gella blushed, looking down at their joined hands. She was probably scandalized by someone holding her hand that long. “I’ve heard rumors that the Greylark Residence is one of the most luxurious places to dine in the Galaxy. I only wanted to look the part.” 

As they went through the grand doors of the lobby, Gella suddenly started. “Oh. These are for you.” 

Axel stiffened as she handed the bouquet over, shooting her a quizzical glance. 

“For completing your prison sentence?” she offered at his confused face. “And for five years of sobriety?” 

If she had been anyone else, Axel would have kissed her. No—not entirely true. He wouldn’t’ve kissed anyone else. Only her. But he couldn’t, because Gella was a Jedi. So, if Gella weren’t a Jedi, he would have kissed her. 

But Gella wouldn’t be Gella if she wasn’t a Jedi. 

So he didn’t kiss her, just stared at her worried face while his eyes filled with unshed tears. “Thank you. Really.” Then, he snarked, “Couldn’t help but copy me, could you?” 

Gella stared at him for a moment. “Not copying. Reciprocating.” 

Axel scoffed. “Yes, well, I made you cry with yours, and you made me cry with mine. So I suppose it’s only fair.” 

Gella stopped walking, scowling. “Who—” Gella grumbled, “Who told you I cried?” 

“Our favorite E’roni Princess. Not Cordelia. Though, I did like her.” 

Gella’s scowl erased itself, cautious optimism writing onto her face instead. “Xiri went to talk to you?” 

Axel nodded. “She did. Gave me an earful for making you cry.” They reached the lift, Kyong giving them a curious glance as she pressed the button. “I almost felt bad I had moved you so much.” 

Gella looked away from him. “It wasn’t the flowers as much as it was the card. You have awful handwriting, by the way.” 

Axel, affronted, stepped into the lift. “I wrote that in under two minutes with a prison pen that has no point. It was more like a crayon than anything.” 

Kyong chuckled behind them. 

“Don’t laugh at me, Mother!” 

“Well, it did look like a three-year-old had scribbled it,” Gella said, deadpanning the statement so well that the corners of Axel’s mouth turned up against his will. 

Axel taunted, “But you could still read it.” 

“After a lot of effort,” Gella shot back, suppressing a smile of her own. 

The lift dinged. The aroma of the long-anticipated dinner hit him, but he didn’t want to look away from their little staring competition. 

His mother ushered them out, laughing at some unspoken joke. 

He put the flowers in C-04L’s arms, who attempted to greet them. Kyong scolded him for being rude, and Axel made a grandiose show of apologizing to the confused protocol droid before pulling out a chair for his mother. 

Gella made a point to sit before he could do it for her. Her smile turned from gloating to soft when he took the chair beside her.

Serving droids appeared with decadent dishes. Almost-freedom tasted terrific, rich, and spicy. 

He nearly choked on it when a droid presented him with an old-fashioned glass. 

“Mom, I can’t,” Axel protested. Oh, he could. He very easily could. 

Sudden comfort hit him. You won’t . It was his own voice. You’re in control. You chose sobriety even when an out was offered. 

Kyong was quick to quell her son’s panic. “It’s an Unfashioned. Nabbooian citrus-herbal syrup, non-alcoholic spiced rum, honey, and aromatic bitters.” 

“Oh.” That’s why it smelled so heavenly. It was one degree off from the real thing. 

But it wasn’t—it was safe. He didn’t have the words to express his gratitude, but given how his mother was smiling with tears of pride in her eyes, she knew the depths of his thanks. 

He picked up the old-fashioned glass and raised it. “Not to make this about me—but this is about me, isn’t it? Cheers to my release, five years of sobriety, and to the next ten years of successful and insightful parole.

“And cheers to my excellent mother for her support and continued guardianship, and cheers to this random Jedi who wandered into my house.” 

“I was invited twice,” Gella pointed out with a reluctant raise of her glass. 

Axel didn’t even bother explaining his sarcasm. He was too busy groaning in delight with the first sip of his drink. “Oh, damn, that’s good.” 

The food was excellent too. Though, his mother kept interrupting to needle him about his job. Gella joined in at some point, and Axel seized the opportunity. 

“Really, nothing I’ll ever do will compare to Gella delivering the future Queen of the Eirami-Eroni system.” He shot her a killer side-eye. “Which you, for some reason, didn’t want to brag about.” 

“Delivered is a bit of a stretch,” Gella admitted sheepishly. “Xiri did all of the work. Cordelia’s shoulder was a little stuck, so I helped maneuver her, caught her, and cleared her airway of fluid.” 

“I think that by definition is a delivery,” Axel argued with a smile so potent it caused Gella to somehow become more bashful. 

Kyong raised her fork in agreement. She switched the subject to Gella’s work on Pastoria, which granted her the rank of Master. 

The Jedi Master recalled the details (on the humble side) of the wayseeking that brought tentative peace to the newly routed outer rim planet. 

The conversation drifted back to Axel when Kyong accidentally suggested they visit the new Republic outpost there. 

“Maybe in three years?” Axel suggested tentatively with as much humor as he could muster. “If I keep up my good behavior.” 

“Which you will,” Kyong insisted politely. 

Gella’s side-eye was much less polite. “How long ago did you build your community garden?” she pointed out. “Two years, now? And you still haven’t taken me there.” 

“Gella,” Axel chided. 

Gella shrugged, taking a sip of water. “Call it even.” 

“Ah. I see. I made you wait to see mine, so you’ll wait to show me yours.” 

Instantaneously with Gella’s choke on her water, he grabbed her hand and said, “I can show you it tomorrow. Or next week. I’ll continue to behave, and you can show me the planet you found.” 

The flustered Jedi Master coughed, taking another sip of water to mask her reaction to Axel’s jibe. 

His mother, though, genuinely seemed to have thought Gella missipped. At least, she did not comment on his teasing. 

“I didn’t find the planet,” Gella retorted. “The Force called me to help the people there.” 

“Well, I didn’t build the garden,” Axel retorted. 

Gella scoffed, squeezing his hand. “You designed it.” 

Giddiness overtook him from looking at her. All his quips died on his tongue as she reveled in her winning last word. 

His mother definitely noticed her son’s loss of speech from the argument. “You practically did build it, you know. You modeled a similar one in university.” 

“Modeled,” Axel shot back. He took a bite of food, chewing to avoid Gella’s curious gaze. “I modeled a lot of agricultural projects there.” 

“Well, now you’re implementing them,” Gella said with a small smile, taking away her hand. Her focus turned to her food. 

Axel, aware his gaze lingered on her for a moment too long, turned back to his food as well. He glanced at his mother after silence befell, pausing his fork halfway to his mouth at her contemplative expression. 

“You implemented them once before.” 

Gella’s attention went to his mother, wiping her mouth as Axel mouthed, ‘What?’ 

“The hothouse,” Kyong pointed out with a smile. 

“The hothouse?” Gella repeated. 

“It’s the—” Axel gestured up. “—flower garden. Upstairs. I didn’t build that, Mom.” 

“No,” Kyong said gently, “but you did implement solutions to stop the purple musk roses from overgrowing and killing half the other flowers.” 

“That was easy. What I’m doing now is large scale and trying to farm the most calories and nutrients out of limited space.” 

Kyong played unimpressed. “And you made the floral arrangements for Senator Tr’vo’s wedding.” 

“That wasn’t easy,” Axel said sternly, smiling. “You still owe me for that.” 

“You went around to every guest and pointed out that you made each centerpiece.” 

“They were good centerpieces!” Axel defended, noticing Gella’s confusion. “I could have made them better if you had given me more time.” Axel gestured. “See, there was this wedding—the Senator of Kuat and a Coruscanti woman my mother quite liked—big scandal.” Axel let out a long breath, looking back fondly despite it not being the fondest of memory. “Suddenly, I’m pulled out of a drunken stupor by my mother telling me I was suddenly in charge of the floral arrangements for a wedding for two people I don’t know because every Kuati Florist pulled out of Coruscant in protest.” 

Axel, smug as ever, crossed his arms. “And I did a damn good job. Especially for a crunch of two days. Fifty centerpieces, two arches, two bridal bouquets, at least three boutonnières, twelve bridesmaids bouquets, table runners—” 

Gella cut him off. “You made all of that by hand? ” 

Axel shrugged, wiping his mouth. “Of course. Quin helped, I guess.”  

The thought of the little droid squeezed his heart unpleasantly. 

Gella reached for him, giving him a reassuring smile that almost filled the hole of guilt forming in his chest. “I had no idea you had such a passion for floral design.” 

“Really? I never mentioned that I had a degree in Agricultural Economics?” 

“I thought you were focused on feeding people.” 

“Old me?” Axel scoffed. “No. I liked looking at pretty things, making pretty things, and maybe even making money off of pretty things.” 

“You brought a lot of joy to that Coruscanti woman by making her pretty things,” Kyong said with a chuckle. “And her husband.” 

“Didn’t Senator Tr’vo lose his seat for marrying her?” Axel questioned. 

Kyong shrugged in defeat. “They live here on Coruscant with three wonderful children. He has pension. They’re happy from what I understand.” 

“Maybe you should be a pro bono wedding florist more often,” Gella suggested wryly. 

Axel smirked, turning to her before his smile fell as he realized: “I haven’t made a bouquet in what, ten years?” His heart skipped a beat. A terrible idea had dawned on him. “What flowers did Phan-tu get you?” 

Gella shrugged, shying. “I don’t know. Purple ones? Zeillas?” 

“Just zeillas? Like a single flower bouquet?” 

“I think so? Why?” 

“Well, because I can make you a better one,” Axel retorted with a smile that lit up the dining room. “The hothouse still has all the blooms, right, Mom?” 

Kyong nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve been tending them all myself.”

 “We can go up there now.” 

His smile was not met with a mirror on Gella’s face. 

“I, uh…” 

His stomach tightened despite it being so full. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone with him. He hadn’t been someone safe to be with in the past. 

Gella’s eyes searched his expression—not for a threat. Her curiosity wasn’t scrutinizing. He didn’t know what she hoped to find. 

She found something. “If your mother’s alright with you taking some of her flowers…”

“Well, there wouldn’t be half the flowers without his handiwork.” 

Axel took that as all the permission he needed to stand up from the table. “I’ll make one for you, too. Greylark blue and gold.” He placed a kiss on his mother’s head. 

The former chancellor squeezed his forearm. “Be good.” 

Axel winked. “Always am.” 

“Uh-huh.” She shot a glance toward Gella, who looked a little lost as her plate was removed. 

Axel extended an arm for her. She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before taking it. Axel filled the walk to the hothouse with pleasantries. Gella confirmed she liked the food. He made her talk about her day, and she mentioned that she was now temporarily responsible for teaching Padawans learning to dual-wield.  

Axel did his best at listening over his pounding heart. It was a joy to be around her. To reach out and touch her without a chain in the way. 

“Here it is.” 

He heard Gella’s breath go away. The hothouse had always been an impressive aspect of the estate, and his mother had done an excellent job at keeping it. Flowers and foliage from what seemed like hundreds of worlds all lived and thrived here. 

He half-dragged her to a side workstation as she tried to take in all the colors in the garden. He opened a drawer on the side of it. 

“Now, you pick out the flowers you want.” He rummaged around more in the cabinet. “And I will hope there’s still ribbon in here.” 

“I thought you were making the bouquet?” Gella questioned. 

“I am.” Axel stood, holding a spool of white ribbon. He set it down. “But I don’t have the flowers yet, so get to it.” 

Gella scowled, gesturing to the bushes around her. “How will I know which ones to pick?” 

Axel leaned on the cabinet. “There are five major components to a bouquet. The focal flower, the secondary flowers, the textural flowers, and the foliage. I’ll handle the foliage. Pick ones that speak to you.” 

“That’s four components,” Gella retorted. 

Axel held up the ribbon. 

“Oh.” 

Her deadpan was so flat it made him burst out laughing. He wanted to hold her again, especially when she shied. When had his brave Jedi gotten so bashful? 

It was like she heard his internal question and took offense to it, grabbing the shears and going off. 

“I missed you,” Axel called. 

He heard her rummaging through the greenery. “I saw you this month.” 

“You know what I mean. And this month, really, Gella? Is that standard for you? Only speaking to your friends once a month?” 

He wanted to smack himself. He had pulled the looming conversation about what his release meant for their friendship closer, and he felt drastically unprepared. 

He heard her movements stop, and he braced for it to start. 

“Yes,” she concluded. The telltale snap of the shears echoed. 

“A month is long enough to miss someone,” Axel dared to say. He braved to look at her then, but she seemed to be in some sort of trance. Her steps were unnaturally light as she meticulously scanned each bush or stem. Even some of the leaves caught her eye—she traced the foliage at seemingly random intervals, but with such reverence, it could have only been deliberate. 

God. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The vibrant spectrum of colors seemed unnaturally dull compared to her, in plain Jedi garb and all. 

He swallowed thickly. “Gella?” 

“I thought you were getting foliage?” She strode with even more purpose, racing to snap off a white stem with a golden bloom. Their eyes met. “What?” 

He wanted to tell her. Tell her everything. How beautiful she was. How much he missed her. How he had loved her since she’d given him that parachute. How badly he had wanted to tell her that in the caves beneath Dalna.

Paralyzed by the echoing words, You’d love to sweep her off her feet the second you get out of here, pluck her out of the Jedi Order, put her in your bed, and have her for the rest of her life, Axel stuttered. And you’re selfish enough to take what you want.  

“Can we talk?” he said instead. 

Gella stood straighter. “Of course. We should.” She looked around. “Can I finish finding these…?” 

Axel rushed to nod. He made himself busy, trying to predict the color palette she would choose. He would match the foliage from there. 

“Thank you for inviting me up here,” Gella said, still focused on her quest. “The life here is cared for… and it’s strong.” 

“I didn’t even think to until dinner,” Axel joked. “I—I love my mom. I mean, obviously. But I love how she remembers the good parts of me, even when I was at my lowest.” He smiled to himself. “I completely forgot about that wedding. Probably had an open bar.” He winced. 

“Well, you can remember all the weddings you go to now,” Gella teased. Her movements had taken her to a corner where she abruptly stopped. “I’ve never been to a wedding.” 

Axel raised a brow. “Yes, you have, oh—” 

Gella shot him a wry look over her shoulder. 

“Well, you,” he started sputtering again. “You’ve been to a rehearsal. That’s part of a wedding.” 

Gella cut another stem free. 

Axel started plucking ferns up from the ground. He doubted it would look good with whatever monstrosity the Force was compelling her to make, but he needed to busy himself before he said something foolish. 

“I think about that rehearsal quite a lot.”  

Axel froze, forcing himself to continue to tug the stem he’d been pulling up. “I do, too.” He swallowed. “I should have danced with you all night.” 

He got up, etching to move away from her. The physical distance might make his palms less sweaty. 

“I would have liked that.” 

Axel turned to look at her, thinking he had misheard, but her focus was still on her bizarre arrangement of flowers. 

“How was your ascension ceremony?” Axel called, organizing the Baby’s Breath on the counter. “Taken advantage of your new rank yet?” 

Gella stopped. “I want to. The Force hasn’t called me to a particular area of study. I’m getting a little tired of conflict resolution. I’m hoping I get to look into foresight of some kind.” 

“Foresight? You want to predict the future?” 

Gella hummed in affirmation. “Yes. Well, not predict it so much as glimpse at it. I suppose that might be a little ambitious and a little self-serving.” 

“I think you’d make a great fortune teller,” Axel assured vibrantly. 

He couldn’t see her but knew she was rolling her eyes. 

“Maybe you should look into Force midwifery.” 

“No!” Gella spun around. “Absolutely not.” She snapped a rose from the bush. “Ow.” 

He watched her with some worry while she inspected where the thorn had snapped back at her hand. There was no blood, so he decided he wouldn’t make a fuss. 

Gella let out a long breath. Finished with her bizarre collection of blooms, she returned to him. There was something she wanted to say. He could feel it as she laid them out on the table. 

He was impressed with her selection. He could work with this. He got to it, sectioning off flowers by type and adjusting stem length. He removed the offending thorns as well while Gella collected herself. 

“I almost watched her die, Axel. Cordelia was completely fine. I put her on Xiri’s chest. I tried to get Phan-tu up so he could cut the cord, and I looked back, and I had never seen so much blood in my entire life.” 

“Xiri credits you for her life,” Axel pointed out. 

“I mean, I did what I could,” Gella said, exasperated at her own memory. “I managed to keep enough blood going to her head. 

“I thought I experienced fear on Orvax. I thought I experienced fear on Dalna. But watching her bleed out right in front of me…” 

Gella sighed. “A lot of Jedi could see it had shaken me. They encouraged meditative retreat to reflect on fear.” 

“And did you?” 

“No,” Gella said with a rueful shake of her head. “I stayed. Xiri needed me. The stability of Eiram and E’ronoh needed to be reestablished after their Princess almost died on Eirami water.

“I then got counseled that it might be best to return to Coruscant to reflect on attachment.” 

“I thought you were a Wayseeker. Why did the Council step in?” 

“It wasn’t the Council’s orders. It was concern from fellow Jedi,” Gella said with a shrug. “And they were right. I became terrified of loss. Of losing the people I care about. I took the death of my Master without much grief. She was older, and I had made peace with the time I got with her.” 

Gella swallowed thickly. “I lost that peace. I didn’t come back to Coruscant. I centered myself with the Force to realign my goals within it—to explore, to find, and to connect. That’s how I found Pastoria.” 

“Taking credit for the find now, I see.” 

Gella nudged him with her shoulder, but it turned into a lean. He noticed how intently she watched him prune leaves and remove thorns. 

“Yes, well, I arrived. Noticed the scale of conflict. I began the start of negotiations between rival clans, but I did call for help after about three months or so.” 

“And now the Republic has a wonderful new outpost in the Outer Rim on a gorgeous, peaceful planet near wild space because of a Jedi who loves to scowl.” 

Gella shoved him again, to little effect. He wrapped an arm around her for a moment before the inevitable reality hit that he could not do this one-handed. 

When he removed the half-hug, he glanced curiously at her. She was holding herself now, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. 

“I learned a lot on that planet,” Gella admitted. “About greed especially. That… that people would rather see others suffer than give up things with arbitrary value.” 

Axel’s hands froze. “You mentioned that the biggest challenge there was learning to be patient and open to understanding their beliefs.” 

Gella nodded, her body still tight. “I was raised opposite to them. Living altruistically is a fundamental part of me.” She swallowed. “I never placed value on objects or representation of power—just my sabers.” She licked her lip and took a step back. “I remembered how upset I was when you stole one.” 

Axel turned to face her with the intention to apologize. “Gella—” 

“That helped me understand,” Gella said quickly, surprising him but not looking at him. “That the value we place on things shouldn’t be ignored. It’s not easy living unattached to things we care about. It’s not a life most people can live. 

“So, instead, I changed the conversation to what peace could have them gain rather than what they’d be losing through compromise.” 

“And it worked.” Axel cut the ribbon.

“It was the start,” Gella confirmed, “but the Republic dignitaries did most of the work following.” 

Four more snips echoed. Axel inspected each dovetail before saying: “You’re selling yourself short.” 

“I am not. A start is a valuable thing.” Gella said it distantly as if she were talking to the air around him instead of to him. “It’s not the entire thing, and it’s not as glorious as the end, but a beginning should not be taken for granted.” 

“Well, here’s to beginnings then.” Axel picked up the bouquet and faced her once more. “Congratulations on your achievement, Jedi Master Nattai.” 

She looked at him like he held the Galaxy in his arms rather than an unconventional hand-tied bouquet. Shockingly, she had only picked out a few bland-colored flowers. Instead, she had picked a spectrum that had been reasonably maneuverable to blend with one another. It was larger than a typical flower shop would sell, but the weight in his arms felt right. 

“Axel, this is—” She stopped talking when he placed it in her arms. “You’re really talented. Thank you.” 

Axel smiled, though his vision was cloudy once again. “You’re welcome, Master Nattai. It’s the least I could do. I know I’ve thanked you a lot over the years, but really, thank you. You’ve been—” Everything. “—a true blessing. And I am forever grateful for the faith you put in me.” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but she chose a different action. She stepped forward, placed a hand on his chest, and he leaned toward her on instinct. And then—

Her eyes left his face and stared at her hand over his heart. Like she couldn’t fathom putting it there, she looked down at the ground and backed away. 

And suddenly, Xiri’s accusation wasn’t unfounded. 

“We, um, do need to talk, Axel,” Gella said, uncomfortable. He wished he could blame her excessive clothing and humidity, but he knew better. “I appreciate this gesture and your company, but—” She looked around desperately like the answer to her discomfort was anywhere but him. “I don’t know what to say.” 

Luckily, he did. 

“No. I understand,” Axel said with a sad laugh. “I know my release will change things between us. This won’t be a regular thing, I promise. However much company you are comfortable providing me, I will happily accept.” He tried to give her a genuine smile, but it didn’t catch. “Whatever our friendship needs to look like going forward, I’ll be an enthusiastic participant. You’ll have way more responsibilities now. Less time to visit your felon friends.” 

There was hurt in her eyes from the playful accusation, but she fought it off with a nod. She took the easy out he gave her, “Yes, I have more responsibilities and expectations with this rank.” Her expression went from discomfort to pain. 

He reached for her shoulder to steer her out. He savored the touch, knowing it would be the last one he would give her. 

He kept his tone cheerful. “Now, you go back to your Temple, enjoy your well-earned privileges, study up, and go confront that greatest challenge you were so worried about.” 

She froze in her tracks. Axel stopped beside her, studying her, but her focus remained solely on the flowers. 

“It’s you.” Gella brushed a rose with the tips of her fingers. “You are my greatest challenge.”  

Axel’s smile fell like he’d tossed it off the building. “I’m not trying to be.” Hadn’t he just given her an escape from him? 

She withheld her gaze, so he thought better than to try to reach for her. Maybe she was fearful that his past actions would reemerge. 

He licked his bottom lip. “I don’t want to be. I know I’ll have to prove to myself, to you, and to everyone that I’ve hurt that I won’t go back to my old ways every second for the rest of my life.” 

“No,” Gella said, plucking a petal. She waited for it to hit the ground before looking at him. “This isn’t about the old you. It’s about you.” 

His mind took off at a million kilometers a minute, trying to process what she was trying to tell him. What she was afraid of saying aloud. 

“Then… how can I be on your side? How can I help you overcome this challenge?” Axel offered. 

The Jedi Master opened and shut her mouth before shaking her head. “You can’t.” 

Axel dared to scoff. He felt the adrenaline crawl and grip his limbs. He knew they were walking on a fine line, about to fall. He didn’t know which side they would land together or forever on separate sides. “If I’m the challenge, yes, I can.” 

“It’s not that simple—”

“No, it’s not. You’re being cryptic, but I’ll play,” Axel said with a killer smile, but he let down every shield that might still be up. He stood up abruptly and walked away from her. “There. Is that helping?” 

Gella swallowed, looking at the blooms as if they had the words she wanted to say written between their petals. 

“If I said, ‘Alright, Gella, thank you for coming to dinner and our friendship for the past six years, but get out and never come back,’ would that help? 

“Or maybe I can go back to prison. Did the challenge get easier or harder with my release?” 

The smile on his face was wild. He forgot how fun it was to rile her up.

Gella let her frustration be known on her face and in the growl of agitation. “Axel.” She approached him, brows furrowed, but he closed the space between them. 

Standing so close, he took her hand in his. 

“Or is this better?” Axel asked, keeping his gaze on their joined hands before daring a glance at her face. Turmoil twisted her beautiful features, and, for a brief moment, he wondered if fighting his heart was the better—the moral—choice to make. 

He dropped her hand and stood back. 

Gella could make her own choices. She, with careful steps, reached for his hand again. 

“Yes? Helping?” Axel verified. She nodded, and he watched intensity bloom on her tumultuous expression. “Holding hands to defeat your greatest enemy?”  

Gella choked on a syllable but managed to get out, “Axel, you’re not my adversary.” 

“No?” Axel squeezed her hands. “You’re shaking.” 

Gella shook her head, laughing like his observation was absurd. “You’re not a foe. Just a challenge.” 

He hummed thoughtfully. “So, less like fighting a rancor and more like climbing a mountain?” 

Gella contemplated his question before nodding. “Yes, I’m climbing. And when I started, I had a clear path up and down, and it didn’t seem so tall. Then, it got steeper. There is no laid route. Now, it feels like I’m so close to the summit, but even when I get there, I won’t know the way back down.” 

A vulpine smirk broke out on his features. “Well, I do see how that could be challenging for someone so short.” 

The Jedi Master’s pinched brows and opening downturned mouth told him that he was about to get a well-earned retort, but she never got the chance. 

Axel cupped her face and steadied her at her waist. He caught her by surprise given the small gasp she let out. 

“You know what I think will help?” 

“What?” she breathed out. 

“If you stand up on your tip-toes,” Axel told her. 

Gella pulled back to look at him, searching for his intentions. He let them bear to her, stroking her cheek as her eyes perused his soul. He knew the line he had just crossed; he knew the line he had just asked her to cross. 

Heart pounding frantically, he promised, “I’ll meet you halfway. For this. For anything, Gella.” He would have kept talking: 

But Gella Nattai had gone up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. 

Axel Greylark made good on his promise immediately. With surprise, joy, anxiety, and awe, he bent down, gripping her waist a fraction tighter as he let the kiss deepen and linger. 

Gella broke it. The look she gave him shattered his fluttering, hope-filled heart. He braced for the slap of I shouldn’t have done that or that can’t happen again or even just a I’m sorry.

“That helped,” she said softly. “But I think I might need more.” She stiffened, surprised by her statement. “If you want to, that is.” 

He let out a single, broken-sounding laugh before he couldn’t disobey the instinct to kiss her a second longer. Her lips parted in surprise, and he reeled his excitement down. “I’ll give you as much as you need,” he swore each word between kisses, smiling as she chased his lips with each one. “Or as little as you need.” 

She dropped the bouquet, using the Force to slow the impact, and tangled her fingers in his hair. “More.” 

Axel whimpered into the next kiss. “Don’t climb down. Not yet.” 

His fingers tangled in her hair, deliciously thick and soft. “I’ll let you go back down whenever you need. I’ll help you get there, but please not yet.” 

She kissed him long, fierce, and hard. She tugged on his shirt right over his heart. 

He pressed her waist closer, and he used her small gasp of shock to explore her mouth with his tongue. 

Gella was a quick learner. He demonstrated; she repeated. He soon became well acquainted with her curious tongue and delightfully playful teeth along with her soft but demanding lips. She made him deliciously delirious and brought them both to their knees. 

Despite the absolutely ravenous beauty kissing him within an inch of his life, Axel paused when he realized that soil was definitely staining his shimmer silk pants. He pulled away, utterly amused by her fluttering lashes and confused scowl. 

He started laughing. “Gella, darling.” He kissed her again, biting her lower lip, which resulted in a sound from her he wanted to hear at least ten more times tonight. “I would love to do this all night, but I would rather not have you muddy your fancy robes.” 

Gella blinked away her fluster, looking down at the reality that her cream pants were indeed in soft soil. 

“Can I take us someplace to continue where we won’t risk getting a layer of dirt on us?” He squeezed her hand. 

She hesitated. 

He cupped her cheek. “Absolutely no pressure. I know you’ve already crossed a line in your beliefs tonight.” 

Gella opened her mouth and shut it, but she leaned into his touch. “I wouldn’t say I crossed it. More like it was moved.” 

Axel hummed. “Who moved it?” 

“Me.” 

“Aw. A Jedi Master moving her boundaries on affection for me? I’m flattered.” 

Gella rolled her eyes. “You’re not making this easy.” 

“No? I only make it easier when I kiss you?” Axel laughed at her exasperated face. 

Gella sighed. “That’s not what I meant.” She paused, looking down at the bouquet at her side. “I am a Jedi.” 

“I know—” 

“Interrupt me again and I’ll make you muddy for a different reason,” Gella threatened. 

Axel put his hands up in surrender. 

Gella glared but started again, “I am a Jedi. But I love you.” 

Never before had the words I love you made him dizzy, but the intensity in her eyes kept him grounded. 

“And love isn’t wrong. But love without possession is hard. So hard that Jedi were taught to stop pursuing romantic relationships a millennia ago. It’s not uncommon for Jedi to be tempted—we’re sentient beings, but I never had that kind of temptation. Not until you. 

“It was easy to love you without possession. First, you were terrible. I could never be tempted to want someone so selfish. 

“Then, you were in prison. I thought your past romantic pursuits would draw you away once you got out. But as I visited you more and more, I knew you more and more, and I—” 

“You thought I wanted someone else?” Axel laughed at the absolutely absurdity. “I quite literally said—” 

She picked up a rose and threw it at him. “Let me talk!”

“That wasn’t very loving, Gella!” 

“It’s not loving to interrupt someone!” Gella argued. “I realized you loved me. And I didn’t know what to do. Because I can’t be attached, Axel. I can’t betray myself, but I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to lose you either. And I thought I would have to choose.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Between my best friend and everything I’ve ever lived for. But I don’t have to… because you know what I am. What I’ll always be.” 

Light bloomed in his chest at her observation. “Of course. You’re a Jedi, and I can’t separate you from that.” He smiled and he basked in triumph as she mirrored it. “I love you, whatever that needs to look like. If that looks like showing you out of here with one more goodbye kiss, I’ll be more than happy. If it looks like kissing your breath away on the damn dirt, I’ll start muddying your robes now, but I’m hoping—” He grabbed her belt, smiling wickedly at her gasp. “It’ll look like taking you to my room and making love to you on 500-thread-count sheets that I’ve been dying to lay in for five years.” 

Gella scoffed and shied. “Thank you, Axel.” Gella bit her lip. When she released it, he couldn’t look away from the small imprint her teeth had left. “I can’t say how it’ll look like yet.”

“Well, let’s test our options!” 

She shot him a look of disdain before he pulled her up to her feet. He kissed her carefully, slowly, and made a point to painfully pull away. “Are you ready to say goodbye?” 

Gella waited a moment, closing her eyes and what he hoped was communing with the Force. “No.” 

“Great!” Axel exclaimed. “And we’ve already tried making out in the dirt, and I wasn’t a huge fan—I get a say too, don’t I?” 

Gella frowned. “Yes, of course. You didn’t like—?” 

He wiped away her doubts with a kiss. “I’ll kiss you anywhere, but the Greylark residence has a lot of better options than a hothouse.” 

Gella rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you would know.” 

“Well, I did live here for thirty years, darling.” He laughed, but the smile quickly fell at her uncertain expression. “You know what else I know?” 

Her look became sharp and suspicious. “What?” 

“You.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “A Jedi. A very serious, dare I say stoic Jedi.” 

She proved his point. 

“Who takes her faith and place in the Order very seriously. Someone who probably didn’t stray like the padawans notoriously known among my classmates at the Coruscant Academy for their one-night stands.” 

She blushed and looked down at the bouquet at her feet. 

“So I know that what I want might be new and maybe too much.” Axel took her hand and kissed it. “But I love you more than I want you. That’s how it’ll always be. Alright?” 

It felt so right to tell her that.

She watched him rub the spot he’d kissed with his thumb. He let his hope soar as she found his gaze. He embraced her gentle exploration into his intentions. 

“You’re still such a charmer, Axel Greylark.” 

“Well, I try—” 

She kissed the cocky smile right off him. There was nothing tentative or restrained about the way she kissed him now. She knew what she wanted, and he made her feel safe wanting it. 

The cockiness came back as heat built with each grab and harsh kiss she inflicted. “You still curious to unravel me, darling?” 

His palms moved to the back of her thighs. He took a gamble of grasping, and he hit the greatest jackpot of his lifetime. She wrapped her arms around his neck and that was all the cue Axel needed to pick her up. 

She pulled back from his frenzied kisses to tell him: “I’ve already unraveled you, but I’m curious to find out what the sheets will feel like.” 

He tried to rebut, but she used the Force to pick up the bouquet and kissed his words away. 

It took a lot more effort than he would ever admit to get her to his room. Anytime he stopped kissing her to go around a corner or press a lift button, Gella let him know that was absolutely unacceptable. 

His lips were tingling by the time he keyed in his code. He barely had time to admire the same decor he’d picked out a decade ago before she was tugging at his collar to punish his crime of being too tall. 

“Gella,” he laughed, taking her hand and walking her over to the dresser where he could put the flowers down. “I never thought I’d be the one saying slow down tonight.” 

The Jedi Master balked in embarrassment that almost made him feel bad for laughing. “Sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Axel assured. 

She gave him a faint nod, kiss-bitten lips parted. 

And they parted more for him when he pressed another bruising kiss into them. 

His touches got greedy. He actively resisted the temptation to fall into muscle memory for kissing a beautiful being. Gella didn’t need harsh gropes or her clothes torn off, and so Axel didn’t. 

But each point of physical contact made his want apparent. Fingers pulled at the front of her belt and threaded through her hair. He used the leverage to turn her head to the side so he could plant assertive kisses on her throat. 

Gella, so incredibly reactive it made him groan, gasped with each one. 

The Coruscant Prince’s blood was so hot he knew his shirt needed to be off or there was a genuine risk of overheating. 

Her thighs hit the edge of the bed and she froze. He pulled away. 

God. She was beautiful. Flustered, chest heaving, and lips covered in evidence of his kisses. 

They shared the air, panting, until he smiled and said: “hi.” 

She returned his smile shyly. “Hi. Hi, Axel.” 

He leaned closer, resting his forehead on hers. “You alright, darling?” 

Gella looked away and nodded, but he cupped her jaw and back into her line of sight. 

“Gella, I’m not a pesky mind reader like you so pardon me for asking, but how would you like this night to go?” 

Gella opened her mouth, but no words reached his ears. 

Perhaps she was lacking imagination. Luckily for her, he possessed it in surplus. 

Axel was all too aware of how eager he sounded when he asked, “Would you like to hear my suggestions, then?” 

Gella considered him before nodding. 

“Right. Before suggestions, here are some non-negotiables: 

“I need the most honest feedback you can give me. If I do something you like, tell me. If I do something you don’t like, tell me. And you’re more than welcome to Force-push me off you if I do something you despise.” 

“Axel,” Gella groaned as he laughed and brought her into a hug. He held her for as long as he thought they both needed. He dismissed the slight tremble going through his body that, and she took several deep breaths. 

Axel assured as he stroked her hair,  “The only things we will do are things we’ll both enjoy, alright?” He pulled back to look at her. 

“Alright,” she confirmed. “Your suggestions?” 

Axel smirked, grasping her hips. “I figure out how to get all these Jedi issued layers off you. Mine will come off much easier.” He winked. “I get you on this bed, keep helping you overcome your challenge, and if we want to go further than we can.” 

Gella swallowed and moved a bit away from him. “Further?” 

“I’d like to touch you,” Axel murmured, keeping his hand on her but letting her have the space she needed. “Bring you pleasure you so very much deserve.” 

“What about you?” Gella asked. 

Axel scoffed. “My Jedi, I’ve been celibate save for my own hand for six years, and now I’ve got the woman I’ve been pining after for those years right in front of me. You won’t have to do much.” 

A smile, a nervous one, appeared on her face as she came closer. 

“I’ll show you what I like if it comes to that,” Axel assured. “Now, can I start unraveling—“ A wicked smile broke out on his face. 

Gella rolled her eyes at him as she shoved him away, but he caught the hand on his chest. 

“—all these layers, or do you want to talk more.” 

He squeezed her hand as she averted her eyes. 

“My robes have never been unraveled before.” She swallowed audibly. “By someone else I mean.” 

“Would you be more comfortable if you kept them on then?” Axel asked. 

Gella seemed taken aback. “I thought…” 

“Oh, one of my other non-negotiables is that you’re as comfortable as possible.” His heart was ready to jump out of his chest at this rate. “If all you want to do is get on the bed and kiss me until morning, I will be a very happy man. I’m already a very happy man.” 

Gella leaned into him. “Your desire for other things is very loud.” 

Axel blinked. “Well, apologies that I’ve lost my touch on hiding how badly I want you.” 

“Axel,” Gella groaned. 

Honesty was the best policy. “I’ll tell you outloud, too. I’d love, and I mean, love to be inside you tonight after I’ve unraveled you with soft touches and plenty of kisses.” 

Axel was still wearing his shirt, but her reddening face seemed to warm his chest through the fabric. 

“Read me all you want, by the way. Blanket permission. But, listen to me, because I can’t exactly control my thoughts right now: My desire doesn’t outweigh your comfort.” 

Gella waited a moment before pressing herself impossibly closer. “I trust you.” 

Axel swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed down the memories betraying her. Instead, he cradled that trust right in his heart as leaned down to kiss her. 

He evaluated the ridiculous amount of layers she was wearing. Despite his disdain for his cape wearing, she was wearing something very similar. He undid the gold clasp around her neck, and the cloak hit the ground with a surprising loud thud. 

The rest of the layers were all currently wrapped by a thick leather belt resting on a golden sash. He could have sworn the sash had been a different color before, but her kisses were making seeing even the gold-plated Jedi-order insignia buckle hard to make-out. And even harder to undo, but he almost had it. 

He stopped abruptly, noticing her twin lightsabers holstered at either side, destined to hit the floor. 

Axel made sure to catch her eye and keep it. Delicately, he reached for both sabers at the same time. Her mouth parted in surprise but didn’t stop him from unclipping them. 

Holding them was still just as shockingly intimate as the first time. He smiled at the memory of breaking her out of the cell as he set the twin blades down on the nightstand within reach. 

He opened his mouth to ask if that was an alright place for them, but she stopped him with her own mouth, pulling at his collar with such vigor that he knew he needed to get it off otherwise she would rip it. 

He pulled back to discard the tunic, but he stopped when he noticed how her eyes were glossy, looking at her sabers then back at him. “Thank you, Axel.” 

He pulled his shirt over his head, reveling in how Gella’s demeanor went from longing to hungry when her eyes raked over his naked torso. He hissed when her calloused palm ran down from his heart to his navel, and the combined look of nerves and want she gave him spurred him into a frenzy. 

He tossed the belt off her. His shoes were easy to discard; hers less so. He kept a mindful watch of her face when pulled down her pants. Her tabards came off without much fuss. When he grabbed the hem of her tunic, he made sure to kiss her soundly. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered against her lips. 

Breathless, she obeyed, sitting on the edge and lifting her arms up in compliance. 

Axel almost flung the damn thing across the room for its offense of keeping so much of her beautiful skin for his eyes, but he didn’t. He let it drop near his feet as he memorized every inch of her skin available to his eyes. 

“Can I tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on or will you get all smart with me?” 

Her sharp look told him she would, but her blush told him the compliment landed. 

His shimmersilk pants piled next to her robes, and he climbed on top of her. He adjusted their position immediately when she tensed. He sat next to her instead, letting her desire pool and build with each kiss until he felt comfortable to subtly nudge her to straddle him. 

His face cradled in both her hands, she pulled away from his kisses but sunk deeper into his lap. Axel gripped her hips tighter. The heat coming from between her legs was divine even through two layers of fabric. 

Gella shied again, her eyes drifting into the room. “Axel?” 

“Yes?” He got ready to reassure her again that there were no expectations whatsoever and he wanted her to feel safe over all else. 

“I don’t want the flowers to die.” 

Oh, Alex loved her. 

He brought his Jedi impossibly closer and chuckled, “I’ll get a vase when we’re done. I promise.

“But I can’t make them live forever,” he pointed out, the statement unnaturally heavy on his tongue. 

She looked at him curiously. “Yes. I know.” She let a hand trail from his face to the scar over his heart. 

Axel wasn’t ashamed that he trembled under her touch. 

“I’ll savor them for as long as the Force allows.” She pressed her lips to his jaw on a journey to kiss all the way down to his heart, so she didn’t get to see how he blinked away tears at her promise.

Notes:

…apologies for taking 89 years to fade to black but I HAD to have him hold her lightsabers and appreciate them.

Also I could NOT tell if Gella was wearing formal attire at the rehearsal my b if she was.

Next chapter will be out as soon as its done! And once it's posted, I will officially have dewormed myself of Axel Greylark brainworms (I have two sequels to this that are already partially written)(will I ever be free?)(no)

Hope y'all enjoyed!

Chapter 6: Vase

Summary:

Axel & Gella get star to in an episode of Love After Lockup.

Notes:

Check updated tags!

The morning after he was released from prison, Axel Greylark believed in the Force and thanked it as the sun graced Coruscant’s skyline. 

The light woke him up, but he didn’t need sight to know Gella was curled around his left side. His arm and half his leg were buzzing from lack of oxygen, but he couldn’t care less when her heartbeat was pressed rawly against his ribs. 

He wanted so very badly to laugh. In disbelief? In joy? At the pure irony of it all? But he didn’t want to wake her. 

The probable chance she would leave right away weighed heavy in his heart. He had savored her in every way he could last night. He wished he could do it again (yes, for reasons on the self-serving side and) because he wanted her to experience his physical display of intimacy without having to face the foreignness of every touch. 

Seeing such a brave person be so nervous but willing was strangely touching. Her disdain for wearing anything except her Jedi-issued attire had been noticeable on E’ronoh, and last night, her vulnerability in wearing nothing was apparent. 

But she let him take each layer off anyway, and she trusted him enough to be curled up naked next to him all night. 

He treasured that. Her trust, her vulnerability, her willingness, all of it. He treasured her. 

And he worried when the sunlight hit her eyes, the time for treasuring her would be over. 

He smiled ruefully at the irony of his past self. How many beds had he left before the sun came up? Uncountable. How many times had he laid in the early morning light praying that whoever he had drunkenly brought home would leave? Also uncountable. 

He frowned, dismissing the delve into his past regrets. Gella was not a regret, and she was still here, nestled in the crook of his asleep arm. 

Her dark lashes fluttered, and he sighed. She stiffened, taking in her surroundings. He willed blood back into his arm to lightly stroke her back, letting her know he was awake. 

Her hand lying on his chest stirred, the contact sending sparks across his ribs. She stretched, pushing away from him a fraction of an inch. 

Axel exhaled, getting ready to face the goodbye. It’ll be alright, he reminded himself. Don’t fight it. This is the right way to love her. 

Her dark, all-knowing eyes met his. 

Axel wished he would have given in to his desire to imagine Gella like this, naked for him in the morning after, but he seldom did for the past five years. However, even with infinite mental preparation, he still would have been pitifully unprepared for the sight and feel of her: 

Those thick lashes fanning over the warm brown of her eyes. The way her brows pinched immediately. 

The swell of her breasts pressed on his side. The pressure of her well-muscled leg on top of his thigh. Her calloused palm on his chest. The fact she cuddled up to him at all. 

Just how much of her touched him. 

Axel’s hand rubbed her lower back, but he readied to remove it to let her get up. Instead, she smushed her cheek back onto his chest and grumbled, “I don’t want to get up yet.” 

The surprising statement made him laugh. “You don’t have to,” Axel said hopefully. His hand stroked up and down her back, and he dared to grab the covers that had pooled at his midsection and pulled them back up. “Good morning, by the way.” 

She glared a little as the sheets and comforter covered half her face, but she snuggled closer. “I don’t want to take up your time.” 

Axel cautiously embraced the hope she was giving him. He knew the danger of disappointment grew steeper when hope elevated it, but he couldn’t help wanting . Just a little bit. “My haircut appointment isn’t until noon.”

Gella nodded on his chest. Her hand wandered on his body, exploring the plane of warm skin and muscle.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched her not entirely conscious touch. The contact was curious and innocent, nothing more than tangibly discovering that touching another being’s body passively was enjoyable. 

It felt so good to be touched. Her shyness last night was understandable and adorable, but it did have disadvantages.  

Most of the touches she gave him had to be with a bit of an encouraging nudge or with a prompt, so there was little anticipation or anything completely organic. 

But this touch was entirely Gella. 

She stopped abruptly when she reached his arm, which wasn’t currently being crushed by her body. She had lightly grasped his bicep before retreating her arm back as if she had been burned. 

Axel looked down quizzically and then took an educated guess. 

He grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips, and then placed it back over his heart. 

She looked up, so adorably bashful and curious that he wanted to blush with her. 

“Don’t stop. Felt good,” he confessed, leaning back into the pillows. He sighed in bliss when she took his encouragement. He traced up and down her spine, smirking at her shiver. 

God, he wanted to stay in bed all day. Forget the haircut—Gella hadn’t made a comment on the length of it. What if she liked it as it was? 

Shopping? He had plenty of clothes. He groaned internally as he reminded himself that he would need legitimate, plain work clothes for the ministry in two days. 

He needed to go to the gym. 

And he wanted to see a movie. 

He ran a hand through his hair and couldn’t deny the need for a haircut either. 

So he would have to get up. 

But Gella didn’t want to get up yet. 

…Which was proving deadly to his left arm. 

He closed his eyes, throwing his other arm over his face, and breathed in the moment. He relaxed a fraction since she hadn’t immediately run off, but the oncoming reality taunted him. 

But he promised himself that he could accept it: Gella was in his bed, and he would not think of plucking her out of the Order so he could keep her here. 

He pouted. “Gella?” 

“Yes?”  Her fingers skated along his clavicle. 

Accepting that this moment was fleeting only made it more special, and he didn’t intend to taint it with awkwardness or heavy questions. 

When Axel didn’t answer, the Jedi Master looked up, brows pinched in annoyance. Her heartbeat picked up against his side. 

He smirked. He intended to fill this moment with only the fondest of experiences. 

Axel tapped his bottom lip, aware of the thrill of the gamble. 

Gella raised a brow. “What?” 

“C’mere,” Axel ordered. 

Gella scowled, retreating under the covers. “Why?” she asked, muffled. 

Axel pulled them down in protest. “Because I miss you.” 

Gella tightened her grip around him. “I’m right here.” 

Axel chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You know, you’re so cute when you’re shy.” 

A legendary scowl confronted him. He pouted even deeper. “Can my brave Jedi spare me a kiss?” 

Gella glowered and looked like she was about to lose a fight with the urge to roll her eyes. 

A flicker of defiance sparked in her eye. She pressed a kiss to his rib. 

Axel pinched her. 

Gella hissed, grabbing that bicep she became fixated on. 

Axel smirked before it turned into a taunting smile. 

Her scowl doubled, looking from his face to his arm, sizing him up. “That wasn’t very loving.” 

Axel Greylark couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He melted a little deeper into the pillows. The comfort of the fine linens and the fact this beautiful woman loved him made him warmer than the sunlight gracing their naked bodies. 

Surprisingly, Gella smiled, too, at her admission. Her scowl faded into that bashful look he was loving more by the second. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Gella,” Axel said, sounding pompous. “How can I make it up to you?” 

Gella hummed. “Can we stay in bed for a little longer?” 

Axel groaned dramatically. “If you insist.” He yanked his left arm out from under her and rolled over. Relief hit his left side immediately, though he did mourn the loss of her body heat. He snickered when she sat up, knowing she was scowling again. 

“Axel,” she admonished, exasperated. 

He peeked over his shoulder, not surprised she was using the sheet to cover herself. He was half-tempted to yank it down, but he knew better. He, a thousand times over, would rather be comfortable entirely naked, but he would gladly give her the option of a little unnecessary modesty. “Yes? What is it, darling?” 

“You turned away.” 

“Yes. See, you’ve been cutting off circulation to my arm all night.” Axel lifted his pins-and-needles-ridden arm up. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

Axel teased, “You should be. I’ll take a kiss as an apology.” 

Gella sighed theatrically and leaned down, still keeping one damn hand on the sheets. She hovered over his lips, pulling back for a split second before kissing him. 

Axel’s toes curled, and his little temper tantrum conceded. He rolled flat on his back to get closer. There was no rush or frenzy with this kiss, but it wasn’t lazy either: sweet, intentional, and long. 

She pulled back, lashes fluttering. “I could get used to this.” 

Her eyes widened, shocked she had said it, but she didn’t retreat. 

“I could too,” Axel murmured with a sad smile. “You’re very pleasant to wake up next to.” 

Gella turned contemplative. “I’ll have to take some time to meditate on—” She sighed. “—this. I can’t deny that the Force has pulled me to you and that you understand my position, but…” 

She was too beautiful to look so tortured. “Gella, darling, you can’t get used to this.” He smiled sadly. He knew it was cruel, but he couldn’t help being a bit of a scoundrel. “I’m not allowed overnight visitors at the halfway house, and I don’t think my roommates—” 

Gella has previously said she would never kill him, but the look on her face right now proved otherwise. “You’re impossible, Greylark.” 

“Oh, but that’s what makes me so fun, isn’t it?” He kissed her and laughed into it when she kissed him back. 

It was better to be impossible, he decided. Putting labels or expectations on their relationship would not end well. He would respect any parameters Gella gave, but he wasn’t strong enough to give them. 

Dr. Tierney would be thrilled to hear it. 

Gella must have still been pissed at his little fake-out because both hands grasped his hair, tugging punishingly. 

The sheet fell, and instinct took over. He cupped her breast. She arched away for a brief second before leaning into his touch. 

She breathed out his name divinely. 

It ignited a fire in him that he would one day have to extinguish, which made it burn hotter in the moment. 

The Jedi Master had let Axel handle her a lot last night. He was fully aware of how powerful she was, but he had picked her up, moved her, and made minor adjustments to their positions all night. 

She extended that trust into the morning, and he wouldn’t let it go unsavored. He moved her onto her back, climbing on top of her. 

“Axel,” she breathed out again, grip on his hair far less punishing than a moment before. The man in question laid a trail of kisses from her jaw to her collarbone. 

Gella tensed when he got past her breast. 

“What’s wrong?” Axel asked, cupping her face. He stroked her cheek delicately and gave a reassuring smile when she met his eye. 

“I can’t,” Gella said awkwardly, sounding more like a squeak. 

Axel’s heart sank. Right. Right! He could handle this. No attachments. He readied to climb off her, but he had to ask: 

“Can’t what?” 

Gella blushed, sinking into the mattress, her lovely black hair fanning out on the pillow. 

God, she was beautiful. 

“I—” She couldn’t keep his eye. She huffed in agitation. 

“Can you give me a hint?” Axel asked. Better just to get it over with. “Do you need to leave?”  

“No, but…” She let out a frustrated sigh. “I think my body needs a break.” 

Axel’s brain short-circuited in two different directions. He remembered last night and successfully rewired his thoughts. “Oh. You’re sore,” he said like the highly educated convict he was.  

Gella bit her lip. “Yes. I’m sure it’s normal—”

Axel shut her up with a lingering kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry.” 

He swore up and down and around the Galaxy that he would never hurt Gella Nattai ever again, but last night had been a beautifully cruel hypocrisy. 

“A bath would help,” Axel suggested, nuzzling his nose into her temple. 

Gella hummed, relaxing back into the mattress. 

“And just because I climb on top of you doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you, darling,” Axel said wickedly against her jaw. 

Gella squirmed. “Axel.” 

“What?” Axel crooned. “It’s the truth.” 

“Your desire is very loud,” Gella retorted as he nipped at her neck. 

“Invading my thoughts?” He gasped in mock offense. 

Smugly, she shifted her thigh, brushing up against physical evidence of desire. 

Axel scoffed. “That’s hardly fair. I’ve got a beautiful naked woman under me. You know, if you want to play dirty, Master Jedi…” 

He kept her eye, opened his intentions, and trailed two fingers down between her breasts, and they made it to her navel before she warned him again. 

“Axel—” 

“Trust me,” Axel promised. “‘Won’t do anything you don’t like.” 

She gave him an apprehensive nod. 

“Yes?” 

She huffed in frustration. “Yes.”

His fingers carried on their little journey, but he never took his eyes off her. He watched how her chest heaved with anticipation, how her abs relaxed once he passed over them, and how she shifted away when he cupped her center. 

Axel chuckled smugly against her earlobe, “Your desire is very loud, Master Nattai.” He rolled the loud like he could savor it on his tongue. Oh! He could, couldn’t he? 

Gella turned her head to shoot him a look of disdain, but he brought his hand up just a tad higher and drew three little tight circles with his fingers. 

She breathed out his name in the way that drove him into ruin, and he shifted to kiss down her body again. 

“Won’t hurt you,” he promised. “Never again. Lemme kiss it better.” 

She met each kiss, suck, and swirl of his tongue with an eager buck of her hips. His mouth reduced her vocabulary to three words: Axel, please, and more.  

Axel’s desire grew too strong to ignore. He pulled her down to the edge of the bed, chuckling at her shriek of surprise. He knelt and took himself in hand. 

“How lucky am I to have the pleasure of eating out a Jedi twice?” he whispered against her. 

Said Jedi Master did not find that amusing. Gella’s well-muscled grip shoved him right back against her. The vibration of his laugh made her shudder, but he did not dare pull away until he made her rightfully finish. 

He kept one hand on her thigh, keeping her in place while he chased the last thread of his pleasure. He allowed himself a brief moment of respite, falling back on the rug while he messied his abs. 

Axel had knelt for a lot of beings, but she was his favorite by far. She peered down curiously at him when she caught her breath. 

“You alright?” 

Axel laughed. “Yes. Yes, Gella.” He remembered her comment from earlier. “Still sore?” 

She clicked her tongue. “Human mouths can’t exactly reverse muscle fatigue, Axe.” 

Kriff wanted to hear her call him that again—right now—even if it followed a ridiculous statement like that. 

He got up and kissed the top of her head. “Bath, then?” 

He knew that she wanted to protest. It’s not that bad, Axel or I’ll be fine without, but she intelligently kept her ineffective complaints to herself. 

But he also knew the look she gave when she was reading his emotions. 

She moved off the bed with a nod and body language telling him not to even think of carrying her. He respected her wish, not knowing whether to feel proud or culpable for her tender gait. 

Axel was used to people gushing over his suite's opulent bathroom, but Gella didn’t marvel at it for a second. He marveled at it for her, bragging over the stone's pedigree and tub controls. Jets, two dual faucets, a fountain specifically to wash hair, and oils worth a thousand credits by the drop. 

Except when he turned the faucet on, the sound made every hair stand up. Beside him, Gella sucked in a breath, desperate for air as if it were dwindling around them. Axel breathed much softer but quicker. He might draw the water right to him if he were too loud. 

Logically, he knew that thought was nonsensical. Water didn’t attack on auditory cues, but his critical thinking had slipped away to panic because the water was flowing into a bathtub. 

The both stood paralyzed at the tub’s increasing water volume. The water wouldn’t even reach past Gella’s navel yet, but it might as well have already submerged them. 

“I didn’t realize…” Gella trailed off. 

“I didn’t either,” Axel said, refusing to take his eyes off the water. “I can—I can turn it off!” He scrambled for the nozzle, but Gella caught him.

“No.” She looked away from the water, directly at him. “We have to face this.” 

Oh, his stupid little righteous spiritually aligned monk, no, they didn’t! He had a shower right next to them, for kriff’s sake!

But the Jedi Master took a single, steadying breath and climbed into the tub. The water made this horrific sound when her feet made contact with it, and a somehow even worse one when she sat down. 

When her eyes met his again, all he could hear was his own thumping heart. You’re just as brave as me , Gella had told him for some bizarre reason last night. 

“You’ve always been braver than me,” Axel joked as she tugged on his hand. He evaluated the tub for probably the tenth time. Luckily, with her in it, it seemed ten times more appealing. 

He climbed in. 

“You can adjust the level, right?” Gella asked as she sat down, sounding more apprehensive as the water covered her leg. 

“Of course.” He sat down opposite her but still kept a tight hand on her. “Do you want it off?” 

He wanted it off. The sound of running water next to his ear made jumping out sound so pleasant. 

“I think I can handle it another inch higher,” Gella decided. She shook her head. “I can’t believe I never realized—I’ve never taken a bath like this. Even on Eiram…” She trailed off, lost in those intense thoughts of hers. “I guess I did refuse to go in the water. And when we crash-landed in the ocean, I was entirely focused on Xiri.” 

Axel nodded. Hearing her talk made the water closing in on him less prevalent. “I haven’t taken a bath since… before I first arrived in the Eirami-Eroni system.” 

“That’s what, almost six years?” 

Axel wanted to joke about his prison shower arrangement, but the sound of the rushing water seemed to be going straight into his head and sweeping his words away. By the second, more and more of him became covered in water. 

“Axel? How do you turn it off?” Gella's words sounded like they were submerged, too. 

He was drowning again. Water stung at his throat, burned his lungs, filled his stomach, and dragged him under. 

Then, the bombarding sound ceased. Gella was in his lap, fingers pressing the button he used to turn it on. The water went up to about his navel, but the threat of it covering his face was gone. 

“Focus on your breathing,” Gella ordered, so sharp but sweet. “You’re in your bathroom. You’re safe. You’re not drowning.” 

Axel couldn’t swallow to clear his tightening throat—the fear of choking was still there. He could, however, wrap his arms around her and press his ear to her heart. The rapid thumping contrasted with her controlled breathing. 

Gella’s afraid too, he reminded himself and took comfort in it. He hadn’t been alone in those caves and wasn’t alone now. 

So, no matter how badly he wanted to get out of the source of his fear, he refused to leave her alone with it. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I love you.” 

Gella brought a wet hand to the back of his neck, the weight of it delightful. “I love you too.” 

He sighed, laced with bliss but still shaky. “Gella, I… I’m sorry. I had no idea I would react like this.” 

Gella cupped his face. “I didn’t either.” She made her Jedi-fighting face, and it was enough to make him smile. “We’ll just have to tackle it.” 

“It’s not so scary now,” Axel decided, though his voice sounded airy. He looked down. “Is it helping?” 

Gella hummed. Her focus clearly hadn’t been on her aching muscles until now. “I think? I appreciate the thought.” 

Tracing wet patterns on her back, he soothed his flagging panic with distraction. “First time I was on the receiving end, I could barely walk without wincing.” 

Gella leaned against his chest. Her weight, despite pushing him down toward the water, provided comfort. 

“The only thing that helped was to be in the bath,” Axel admitted. 

He got another hum. “It really doesn’t hurt.” 

“Just feels like you used some never-used muscles?” 

Gella nodded, her face heating his chest. 

“Good to hear,” Axel murmured. He didn’t want to stop talking. Even shallow, the water made noise—small splashes that he had never bothered paying attention to when he’d taken baths before. Why was this bath different? Why did the water sound so much louder? Was it closer to his ears?  

“Breathe,” Gella ordered. 

“It’s the noise,” Axel admitted. “Keep talking.”

“About…?” 

“I don’t know. Anything! What’s your favorite color?” 

“I’m indifferent to colors.” 

“Splendid, Gella. Great. Mine is—” 

“Red. I know.” 

“You should win an award for your conversationalist skills, Master Nattai!” 

“We’re talking, are we not?” 

Axel huffed. Fine. Fine, small talk was out of the question. “Fine, let’s have an awkward morning-after talk. I’ll start: Is sex ed a part of a Jedi’s education? Or do they let you figure it out on your own?” 

Gella sighed. 

“If you don’t keep talking, I’ll start panicking—” 

“Yes and no,” she answered. “Nonattachment is a very early-taught tenet. Younglings go to school with a curriculum modeled after the Coruscanti Districts, so we learn about reproduction just like all other children. But Masters normally give clarification on attraction and relationships to their Padawans when they get to that age.” 

“And what is that clarification?” 

“The risks,” Gella stated simply. “Attachment and the danger it carries. The emotional aspect of it. The physical aspect, too. All the nuances and risks of engaging in sexual activity. They teach us about consent and when to seek medical care. We aren’t neglected.” 

“I didn’t say you were!” 

Gella shot him a look of ire. “What we do have to figure out on our own is if the way of being a Jedi—living for the will of the Force—is what’s best for you.

“Plenty of Padawans do take advantage of their lack of responsibility to explore, but they get a taste, accept that it’s there, and then move past it. It’s not unheard of.” 

“But you never did?”

“Well… I was very serious about my place as a Jedi. 

“The first time I kissed someone, I told Master Mar within the hour.” Gella smiled at the memory. “I thought she would be stern. Lecture me until my ears fell off. She only asked if I was okay. She told me I didn’t need to apologize to her or anyone and that it was an experience I could learn from.” 

“And what did you learn?” 

“That I didn’t need to kiss anyone,” Gella said simply. “It wasn’t wrong that I had. But I could live without it.” She sighed, “But I did kiss someone else that same year. I didn’t tell Master Mar about that.” 

Axel chuckled. “Was that your one act of teenage rebellion?” 

Gella took a moment to think. “Yes? I had my first drink around the same time. Actually, I think that’s what led to the second kiss.” 

“You were much more aptly behaved than I was. I was properly rotten.” Axel winced but laughed through it. “Would you ever take on a Padawan?” 

“No,” Gella said smoothly, surely. 

I don’t want children either, almost came flying out of Axel's mouth, but he luckily heard how it sounded in his head. 

Gella laughed, and for a split second, Axel was worried that she had heard his impulsive thought. “What if I got a rotten one?” 

“You wouldn’t,” Axel assured, relieved. “Although, you do seem to have a fondness for rotten things.” 

The water was slowly losing heat. He shifted—the sound of splashing water grating. 

“You’re not rotten,” Gella murmured. “Not rotten at all.” 

“I was rotten.” 

“I didn’t say you were never rotten,” Gella argued. 

“I’m still a little rotten, surely.” 

Gella took a deep breath as if lying on his chest and conversing with him was so incredibly taxing. “You’re sitting in a bathtub, despite being petrified of the water with a woman who is also petrified of the water because you don’t want her to be in pain after you had sex with her.” 

Gella raised herself up to bump their noses together. “There’s not a rotten bone left in your body, Axel Greylark.” 

“Mmm, I think taking a Jedi Master’s virginity is a little rotten,” Axel said before kissing her. “But it’s good to hear that my bone health is good.” 

Gella rolled her eyes, retreating back to his chest before he caught her chin. 

“For the record, I didn’t take anything from you. We did something. Together. That we both wanted and enjoyed. And if you do tell anyone about this, don’t let them tell you that you’ve lost something.” 

Gella seemed a little confused by his seriousness, but Axel didn’t want to put any more would-be guilt brewing for ending her celibacy. Even if celibacy was a symptom of the Jedi Code rather than a tenet, Gella had changed how she treated it. 

“I won’t be telling anyone,” Gella informed him. 

Axel agreed. “I won’t either. Well…” He cringed. “Only people who are under provider-patient confidentiality rules.” 

Gella smirked. “I’m sure Dr. Tierney will be thrilled.” 

Axel snickered. Dr. Tierney would have some choice words and advice about Axel ending his celibacy on his first night out from prison. 

“I love you,” Gella said, the words tickling his skin. 

“I love you, too,” Axel responded, wet fingers dampening her hair as he stroked it.  

The reward of the water stopped outweighing the risk as it cooled. Axel didn’t know who was more eager to get out. She climbed out first, but he crossed the room to the towel rack and tossed her one before she could take another step. 

Gella begrudgingly let him dry her off, putting on a show of rolling her eyes but failing to keep her smile suppressed. 

The adrenaline of their bath dried with the water droplets on their skin, and he was submerged, once again, in the uncomfortable realization that she would leave soon. 

And that’s okay, he told himself as Gella covered her nakedness with the towel. The look in her eyes told him that her patience for being out of her robes had expired. Axel took her hand, not needing to speak or quip, as he guided her back to the bedroom to collect all the ridiculous layers to her outfit. 

He headed to his closet to dress as well, and he had the advantage of only needing to put on three articles of clothing. Buttons to his shirt still undone, he returned to the bedroom with the scandalous desire to see her getting dressed. 

But alas, she was clothed up to her tabards, searching for another layer on the floor. Axel made his way over to her to help her find whatever he’d help her lose. 

“Thanks,” Gella said when he found a beige cloth under the bed skirt. She reached for it, but an odd impulse overtook Axel, and he wrapped it around her. 

At first, Gella looked away from him indignantly as he fussed over the sash, but she didn’t vocalize her annoyance. Her irritation amused him, so he reached for her belt, too. He put it on her, adjusting the buckle to make it centered far longer than necessary. 

He handed her the cloak because he suspected she would not tolerate him putting it on her. Gella got her arms through, but before he could reach for the clasp, Gella’s fingers met the buttons on his opened shirt. Her fastenings were meticulous for simple clasps, worrying her lip between her teeth until she got to the collar. 

All irritation had left her. Instead, fondness seeped into her features, and her beauty humbled him once again. The weight of trust almost brought him to his knees. 

But he barely faltered when he finally connected the clasp on her collar. He kept her gaze, stepping back and admiring her formal robes. 

He mocked the excessive layers—he always would—but they came together artfully. 

There was only one part of her outfit missing. He retrieved the sabers. He studied them in front of her. He held her life in his hands. 

Axel dared to ask, “Could you be expelled for this?” 

Gella answered, certain of precisely what he asked, “It’s a possibility.”  

Axel swallowed. The seriousness of what they had done made the air thicker. Not for him, not really. The entirety of the risk lay on Gella. 

If this were their only congressional, she would suffer no consequences. Surely. 

He desperately didn’t want it to be, but the risk of consequences would dramatically increase if they had a repeat. 

Axel didn’t want to imply anything, so he didn’t tell her that if Gella were to be expelled, she would be well looked after. Axel would provide protection, money, comfort, companionship, and… things she might not even want yet. 

It made him sick to hope, for a moment, that she would be expelled. 

Axel squashed the fleeting wish by just looking at her. 

Gella would look amazing wearing anything—or nothing!—but her robes accentuated all the good she had done and would do for the Galaxy. And he didn’t want to think of a timeline where she couldn’t access them. 

“And you’re alright with that?” 

Again, with absolute certainty, she told him, “Yes. But it won’t come to that. Not if we’re careful and not if… we can let go when it’s time. When the Force calls me to serve or if you…” 

Axel nodded even though she had trailed off. He clung to the implication that it wasn’t time yet while fretting over what careful meant. He assumed it would be mostly on her end. She would be in a mansion full of mind readers, but Axel doubted the press wasn’t entirely off his tail when it came to his nightlife. 

One stray cam droid flies by, and…

“Careful,” Axel decided. “We’ll be careful.” 

And being careful meant Axel didn’t invite her to stay for breakfast. However funny it might have been to watch his mother gleefully scrutinize Gella for wearing the same robes from the night before, Axel didn’t want to get used to the Jedi in his family dining room. 

Not because he didn’t want her there—but because he did. Very much. 

Axel embraced the desire of all that couldn’t be for the first and last moment. Gella leaving the Order, moving in and letting him court her in ways that she would wrinkle her nose at, enthusiastically accepting his proposal, a public announcement, a wedding to end all weddings, and Axel would be a terrible father, but Gella—

Gella would be crushed to leave the Order. Axel didn’t exactly have a great track record with courtship, even less so with engagements. A public announcement would draw jealous eyes and scorning ones. He hated the thought of a massive wedding, and while Gella would be an excellent mother, she didn’t want kids—especially with someone who would be a terrible father. 

He cut his little fantasy off, but the dining room had been on his mind. It was simple, brief, and gloriously painful: Gella was at the table, still in her temple attire, sitting next to him while his mother dabbed the baby’s chin across from them. 

But that wasn’t meant to be. 

He didn’t mourn it long. It was nonsensical (and a bit terrifying), so it disappeared from his mind when her sabers clicked into her holsters. 

Gella took advantage of his closeness and kissed him. He smiled into it, even though he knew she was telling him goodbye. When she pulled away, blushing like she hadn’t just been naked with him for hours, Axel gave himself one more moment to appreciate her and what she had shared with him. 

It didn’t matter if he couldn’t have a future constructed by concepts of perfection with her. Axel could love her now, express it in whatever way needed, and receive hers in turn. 

He vowed not to let the dread of the ending eclipse the joy he had presently. He knew it would be easier said than done, but he still promised himself anyway. 

Axel broke the solemn atmosphere with a grin. “Does being careful mean you can’t take the bouquet home?” 

She could, as it turned out, and she even kept the vase he insisted she take with her. Gella wished him a good first day at work and other awkward (but genuine) ramblings in the garage while she stalled getting in her speeder. 

Something else needed to be said, and Axel had to be the one to say it. 

“I’ll have availability next weekend if you want to visit your favorite felon?” 

Gella froze her hand on the switch to pop the door open. They both held their breaths for her answer. 

She looked up from the vase in her hands. “I’ll let you know.” 

Axel controlled his hope. He did not let it flare out of control or consume him. Even throughout the next week, when he had to adjust to the halfway house, endure the judging scorn of his coworkers, and get an earful from Dr. Tierney, Axel did not rely on the possibility of seeing her again to keep his mood elevated. 

He was proud of himself when he reached the end of his workweek and barely felt a pang when she hadn’t messaged him. Axel stepped onto the transport to take him home for the first time for his weekly prescribed day of house arrest. Whatever parole board came up with the idea of giving their halfway house residents a day to themselves was impeccably intelligent because there was no way in hell Axel would consider breaking house rules knowing his free day was on the line. 

No. He would be a top-notch, sober resident. And in a year, Officer Peblo might give him two free days a week. 

Officer Peblo had briefly checked in with him to remind him of the parole terms. 

“Your Mother gave me ample notice of the visitor at your house this weekend, but I just want to remind you to stay on top of that,” he had warned. 

“Do, um, my visitors…” Axel had started, aware that he was about to ask a suspicious question. “Do they go on record?” 

“Yes. Why wouldn’t they?” 

“And who has access to these records?” 

“Mister Greylark, is there something you need to tell me?” 

Axel had said no and switched the topic. 

His comm pinged as he stepped out of the transport, preparing to walk the rest of the way. 

Gella wanted to see him. 

And so she got to. 

Axel had run home to change first, but he talked his way into walking her all the way from outside the Temple to the old sable tree. 

And the dumplings had tasted better than he’d ever remembered. Maybe because it had been six years since he had them, or maybe because Gella ate them with him, smiling while talking up a storm about her dual-wielding classes. 

But even if he had to eat them without her one day, they’d still be the best dumplings in the Galaxy. 

Tonight, though, he finished his meal and gleefully watched her stumble over her words to invite herself over.

Notes:

Their situationship is about to enter hall of fame levels. They’re about to out-do every preceding situationship. They’re about to redefine the meaning of situationship. Hell, they might be the ones to invent it.

Sequel will be out ASAP. First two chapters are 80% written. Gella POV too 🤞

Thanks for the comments and kudos!! They kept this crashout train 100% more fun.

Notes:

Update: This fic is undergoing some construction, so you may see the word count going down bit by bit. Please feel free to download the current version if you enjoy it as is!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Floral Design