She was running through the flower field at Starfall. She was lost, the cabin no longer in sight. Tears streaked her face as she sobbed, sprinting, feeling the tall grass whip at her cheeks and lash at her exposed arms as pale blue eyes spanned the big blue sky, vision swimming as heaving gulps shuddered in her chest.
"Mama! Mama!"
She cried out in the emptiness, hearing nothing but her pounding heart, the sussuration of the grass as wind buffered through it. Could feel nothing but a growing sickness as she ran, ran until she twisted her ankle, skidding her palms into rough earth and tumbling to the ground. Where was her mummy at? She could feel herself growing sick, with fear, with worry, until two pale arms reached out for her, picking her up effortlessly and snuggling her into her chest.
"Hello, little Starshine," came the familiar, crooning voice of her mother, and she let out a thin wail as she wrapped her arms around Amariel's neck, whole body shaking with the sudden relief giddying over the sick feeling of despair. Burying her face into the crook of Amariel's neck, she deeply breathed in her scent, the familiar sweet smell of lilacs and a flower that she bred herself; a small, potent white flower that she called Amarialis silviana. Amariel's silver dream.
"I'm here, Starshine. Mommy will always be there for you. Hush..."
The flicker of those dead, golden eyes flaring in vivid detail. That vacant face, a twisted facade of her mother's dissecting, ever-present stare. Feeling her knees threaten to buckle, as bile crawled up her throat. Clutching to the desk so hard as the security holovid played over and over, so hard that the wood creaked in protest.
Her mother's gentle hands framing her own, her long white hair a curtain for both of them as she gave her one of her rare smiles. "My little Starshine," she murmured, pressing a kiss to Silvi's forehead. "There's nothing your mummy won't do for you. So don't you cry, my Starlight, I'll always be here."
But you're not! She wanted to scream, to fling it back in her mother's face. You can't just leave me like that! To face that world, alone, I---
She choked back a sob, feeling her whole body tremble. But as she watched the footage, again and again, she gritted her jaw. Blue eyes burned with a fierce light, and she scowled, glaring at the dim figure behind her. Etching the face to memory, committing their voice. She would watch them die. She would not give them the satisfaction of hiding away, of letting her mother's death become nothing in the tide of many other deaths.
A glass shattering. Her mother, standing shell-shocked as she announced that she would be leaving, that she wouldn't use Ilana's blood-money to continue through life. "...No," her mother began shaking her head, an emotion flickering across her face, one Silvi had only seen a few times before.
Fear.
"No, you can't, you mustn't," her mother's voice, like it was yesterday. The fear, vanishing into anger, into something tight and intense, with golden eyes flashing darkly as her hands settled on her hips. "You don't know what's out there, Silvi. You don't know what the Consortium is like! What politics are like! Do you know what danger you'll encounter? Don't you understand?"
Silvi could feel her face flame at her mother's flung words, at the woman's insinuation of her ignorance. "And whose fault is that?" she hissed, glaring at Amariel. "All you do is stand around, dragging me to balls and events and pining for that Jedi bastard! When are you going to realize that I'm not your doll anymore, and that he's never coming back?" There was a bitter satisfaction at seeing her mother flinch, but it was touched with guilt, burning with rage. "I'm done with your 'protecting' me, Mother. Go find your fucking lover, and cry him a river. But I will not hide in your shadow anymore."
With that, she spun off on a heel, hearing her mother call her name. Like a bell, ringing in the night, over and over.
Eyes slowly peeled open, gritty and sore. Grey light filtered through her room, and her throat ached. Slowly sliding upright, she pressed her palms to her eyes as she relived her mother's hurt expression, over and over, as she left. Recalling the last time she saw her mother, it was standing there with that heartbroken expression on her pale face, one hand reached out as though to stop her before the door whooshed shut.
I should have talked to her.
She clenched her eyes shut, letting the guilt, the grief swell up, bitter and cold. She had to turn to someone. To talk to someone who didn't know her mother, that wouldn't smother her with condolences and memories of her mother.
She closed her eyes, feeling tears pool in her eye sockets, before they tracked down her temples, a silent plea flung into the galaxy.
Ezra(@Sreeya). Hear my wish. Talk to me, please. Tell me...
She let out a slow, shuddery breath, as she tried to stifle the sob that still threatened to break free, the scent of lilacs and Amarialis silvana permeating the air.
Tell me I'm not fully alone.