hiraeth - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past
The galaxy map wavered in front of her as details of the incident report flew by, but the words didn’t register.
She might have been looking at the flickering, blue holographic image of Dantooine, but what Grey was seeing was the rolling hills stretched out in front of her in her mind’s eye. Family picnics under the shade of the tall Blba tree where her parents had exchanged their vows. The sharp scent of the spiced tea that was served at breakfast, along with her father chiding her older brother as he demolished the stacks of hot, steaming Dantooine flapjacks. Her mother’s not-so-hidden smile when her daughter had difficulty sitting still long enough to meditate properly.
She also saw fire. Pillars of flames reaching high up into the dark sky. The coppery tang of blood in the air and screams long rent silent. Her throat raw and hoarse, as the still forms refused to move no matter how hard she shook and begged. The smoke that filled her lungs from the burning house taking everything away that once was hers.
But there was also the cold. A chill that started at the base of her spine, and settled in her gut before she had ever made it back to the homestead. Was it the Sith responsible for the destruction, the Dark Side creeping up, or the feeling of death reaching out through the Force as her mother drew her last breath she never knew. Just that it was moving. Climbing up her spine and coiled around her, trapping her with it’s cold cold cold—
It was the feeling of worn, leatheris wrapping around her fingers that brought her back. She was still on Odessen, staring vacantly at the map of Dantooine. She felt Theron’s gaze on her, the concern practically radiating from him, but she couldn’t look at him lest the control on the here and now slip away again. Heedless of anyone else in the war room watching, his hand enveloped hers completely, giving a reassuring squeeze. A silent promise that she doesn’t have to go back there. And even if she chooses to, it won’t be alone.
She swallowed, forcing herself to focus on the text that was still flying by. Reports of pirates invading, of farms being burned. It had nearly been thirty years since she last set foot on Dantooine. It wasn’t home anymore, that had gone up in smoke a lifetime ago. But it was still home to many, and they needed help. She gave Theron’s hand a return squeeze as she stared at the map.
