![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonofgodzilla posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
adventdrabblesTitle: Abeloth fhtagn
Universe: Star Wars
Character(s): Luke Skywalker, Sarco Plank
Rating: U
Warnings: N/A
Summary: He was old now, old beyond his years, the hot chocolate cooling in the mug at his side, yet still, when he thought of those years, Luke Skywalker felt a chill run down his spine.
Length: 321 words
Author's Notes:For Prompt 02. also: external link.
Abeloth fhtagn
Who was it that had first introduced him to the beverage, he asked himself. It was not really a question, as he recalled full well that had been Lando Calrissian, ever full of surprises, who had first taken his hands and placed the warm mug of chocolate and milk in his, a dash of brandy mixed in for good measure.
He reached up, removing his reading glasses, placing down the datapad on desk before him and feeling the warmth rising from the mug beside him. How many years had it been, Luke Skywalker asked himself, his golden hair now faded grey, his face now lined with the shadows of hard won experience; how many years since the shape of that unspeakable evil had sunk into the Lake of Apparitions; how many years had he been waiting for her return, the Dagger of Mortis forever in reach, his every moment spent in expectation of her revival.
He was old now, old beyond his years, and as the years slipped away from him, as the world forgot all that had passed in those dark years when Coruscant and countless other worlds had been under the sway of that ancient force. Those stories had become exactly that now, nothing but stories. Abruptly Skywalker recalled, with sudden clarity, a reunion with the vicious scavenger, Sarco Plank, on his home-world of Melitto.
‘The old mother sleeps,’ he had said, his expression unreadable behind his chitinous mask. ‘She is not dead, but instead, she sleeps, awaiting her time once more.’
A chill had run down his spine as he gazed upon the other, upon the tattered red cloak, the electrostaff ever at their side.
‘In her house, the mother waits dreaming. Prepare yourself, Nobody’s Padawan, the day of her return is not so far, far away.’
His hands holding the mug tightly, it seemed then to Luke Skywalker, that the warmth of his hot chocolate had dulled.
Universe: Star Wars
Character(s): Luke Skywalker, Sarco Plank
Rating: U
Warnings: N/A
Summary: He was old now, old beyond his years, the hot chocolate cooling in the mug at his side, yet still, when he thought of those years, Luke Skywalker felt a chill run down his spine.
Length: 321 words
Author's Notes:For Prompt 02. also: external link.
Abeloth fhtagn
Who was it that had first introduced him to the beverage, he asked himself. It was not really a question, as he recalled full well that had been Lando Calrissian, ever full of surprises, who had first taken his hands and placed the warm mug of chocolate and milk in his, a dash of brandy mixed in for good measure.
He reached up, removing his reading glasses, placing down the datapad on desk before him and feeling the warmth rising from the mug beside him. How many years had it been, Luke Skywalker asked himself, his golden hair now faded grey, his face now lined with the shadows of hard won experience; how many years since the shape of that unspeakable evil had sunk into the Lake of Apparitions; how many years had he been waiting for her return, the Dagger of Mortis forever in reach, his every moment spent in expectation of her revival.
He was old now, old beyond his years, and as the years slipped away from him, as the world forgot all that had passed in those dark years when Coruscant and countless other worlds had been under the sway of that ancient force. Those stories had become exactly that now, nothing but stories. Abruptly Skywalker recalled, with sudden clarity, a reunion with the vicious scavenger, Sarco Plank, on his home-world of Melitto.
‘The old mother sleeps,’ he had said, his expression unreadable behind his chitinous mask. ‘She is not dead, but instead, she sleeps, awaiting her time once more.’
A chill had run down his spine as he gazed upon the other, upon the tattered red cloak, the electrostaff ever at their side.
‘In her house, the mother waits dreaming. Prepare yourself, Nobody’s Padawan, the day of her return is not so far, far away.’
His hands holding the mug tightly, it seemed then to Luke Skywalker, that the warmth of his hot chocolate had dulled.
