I Am Back You Probably Noticed That I Did Not Post Anything For Visions Of Mandalore. I Have Been Too

I am back You probably noticed that I did not post anything for Visions of Mandalore. I have been too busy with life and then stopped writing. Anyways, I am still busy, but I am now back and will keep writing and writing. So, Visions of Mandalore is getting postponed till December of this year (2025) because it still needs a lot of work. I will try to post a sneak peak or two just so you get an idea of what it'll be about. Love you -Lux

FIC ANNOUNCEMENT

PERSONAL PROJECT

Hi, I also came here to announce my Star Wars fanfic Visions of Mandalore, which is heavily based on the Mandalorian Civil War. This event was basically the war in which Obi-Wan and Satine met before the Clone Wars. I really wanted an official Star Wars story based on this event, but then I thought: I will just write my own story. This story will include a little bit of everything: romance, friendship, teamwork, politics, drama, and so much more.

Coming to Tumblr and Ao3 November 2024

The Way It Comes To Be- Chapter 3 (DIRECTOR'S CUT)

Chapter summary: Thorin is already recovering from the hardships he endured at war, but now he has to face new situations that are ahead of him.

Link on Ao3

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Thorin x Bilbo, Kili x Tauriel

***

Chapter 3: New Ways To Rebuild

Thorin stood at the head of the round table, surrounded by the key figures of the newly formed alliance: Thranduil, Bard, and their respective advisors. The room, though tense, was filled with an air of ambition and determination.

Thorin began speaking. "Indeed, we have much to discuss if we are to ensure a prosperous future for all our people."

Thranduil nodded in response, his expression serious yet hopeful. Bard leaned forward, hands clasped together, ready to engage in the critical discussions ahead.

"The people of Laketown are in dire need of assistance. Winter is approaching, and they have lost everything. We must prioritize their relocation and the reconstruction of their homes."

"Erebor will provide the necessary resources,” said Thorin. “We have ample treasure, and it is our duty to use it wisely. However, this assistance must be part of a larger and mutual agreement that benefits all of us."

"Agreed,” Thranduil said. In return, the Woodland Realm can offer our expertise in sustainable forestry and agriculture. We have knowledge that can aid in rebuilding Laketown and ensure it thrives once again."

The elves in the council nodded in agreement and Thorin spoke up again. "And what of trade? A steady flow of goods between our realms will foster stability and growth. We need to establish clear terms and routes for trade."

"Trade is essential, but so is security,” replied Bard. “We must ensure that our borders are protected. Our recent alliance must be solidified with mutual defense agreements."

“I think a joint defense initiative would be the best idea,” Thorin collaborated. “Erebor, Dale, and Mirkwood could be standing together as a formidable force against any potential threats."

Thranduil placed his head to the side, unsure if he agreed with Thorin or not. "We can establish regular meetings between our military leaders to coordinate and share intelligence. Trust is key, and transparency will be our strength."

At that moment, Bilbo entered the room, carrying a stack of maps and documents. He placed them on the table and looked around, sensing the weight of the discussions.

"I found the maps and the initial draft agreements for review,” Bilbo began. “I believe it’s crucial that we have a clear understanding of the territories and resources at our disposal."

Thorin smiled at Bilbo, appreciating his diligence and foresight. "Thank you, Bilbo. Your assistance in these matters is invaluable. Now, let us review the maps and start drafting our agreements."

The group gathered around the table, examining the maps and documents Bilbo had discovered. They began to outline the details of their trade routes, resource allocation, and defense strategies.

Bard then said, "We could also have cultural exchanges between our peoples. Understanding and respecting each other’s traditions will strengthen our alliance."

Thorin and Thranduil looked at each other questionably, unsure of what to think. The elves and dwarves despised each other since the beginning of time. Even if some clans have formed alliances with each other as a necessity, the disagreements between them still lingered through the course of existence.

“I think we should simply leave that to the people of our respective societies. I wouldn’t impose any unwanted interactions,” said Thranduil.

Thorin rolled his eyes and said, “What are you trying to imply with that, Thranduil?”

“I was not implying anything, Your Majesty,” Thranduil responded with a hint of sarcasm. “I was just saying that it should simply be up to the people to decide who they want to exchange cultural engagements with or not.”

“Listen here, if you still have a problem with us dwarves let me remind you that YOU REFUSED TO SEND HELP WHEN EREBOR WAS BEING CAPTURED YEARS AGO! IT IS YOUR FAULT THAT WE ARE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW!”

“Well, it is not my fault that your people failed to stop Smaug from wiping out your entire race!” responded Thranduil.

“Our fault? NOBODY ANSWERED OUR CALL FOR HELP!” yelled Thorin.

“Enough!” Bard raised his hands, stepping between the two leaders. “This bickering will NOT help us rebuild our societies. We must look to the future, not the past. Stop focusing so much on your differences and let us move forward once and for all!”

Thranduil took a deep breath to calm himself. “You are right, Bard, let us focus on our common goals.”

Thorin nodded, though his eyes still burned with anger. “Agreed. We need to find a way forward, together.”

Bard continued, “If cultural exchanges are to happen, they should indeed be voluntary. But we can still create opportunities for our peoples to interact, should they wish to.”

“Perhaps we could organize joint festivals or markets. Places where people can come together naturally,” said Thrnaduil, regaining his calm.

Thorin, softening slightly, added, “And maybe we can establish some neutral zones where trade and dialogue can flourish without old grudges interfering.”

Bard smiled, seeing the conversation return to a constructive path. “These are steps in the right direction. Let us put aside our differences and work towards a future where all our peoples can thrive.”

These discussions continued long into the day, with each leader contributing their ideas and concerns. Despite the challenges that lied ahead, a sense of optimism filled every corner of the room. They were forging a path to a future where cooperation and unity would bring prosperity to their lands.

When the sun began to set, the leaders decided to pause the meeting and continue early the next day. The council had seemed to be successful, and everyone hoped that it would continue to be like that. The elves went to their respective tents, Bard and his advisors headed towards Dale, and the dwarves headed to the gates of Erebor.

On the walk to the palace, everyone was talking to each other and talking about the success of the meeting. All of Thorin’s company was now filled with hope and excited to rebuild Erebor.

“I almost thought Thorin was going to beat the living shit out of Thraundil for a sec!” laughed Dwalin.

“Let us be glad he did not, because that would have started a complete new war,” interfered Balin.

“If it weren’t for Bard, I don’t think we’d be walking out of here in one piece,” Bombur added. Thorin just rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement.

“And once again, our Master Burglar came in handy once more! How did you manage to find all of those dusty maps in the huge mess the palace is?” asked Bombur.

“Oh! Well, I already explored the library multiple times since we got to Erebor. I was trying to find something to read multiple times until I stumbled upon those maps a few times,” replied Bilbo.

“Bilbo DOES have keen eyes,” Gloin said, “He was the one who found the keyhole to the gates of Erebor. Without him, I don’t think we could’ve found it at all!”

“Even if Bilbo has keen eyes, Thorin is the only being he has eyes for,” whispered Kili to Fili. The blonde dwarf then burst into bouistrous laughter and to started to spread the joke to the rest of the company, which made everyone have fits of loud giggles. Thorin just placed his hand agianst his forehead, knowing exactly what they were talking about.

“What are you all giggling about?” asked Bilbo, curious.

“Oh, just Kili saying something dumb once again!” said Bifur, trying to play dumb. Bilbo just shrugged and continued to walk with the rest of the dwarves to the palace. As they made their way to the palace gates, Bilbo could sense the tension from Thorin’s energy. He seemed extremely stressed and tense about something, probably the meeting. Bilbo could sense it by the way he had been so quiet and slightly isolated from the group. However, the hobbit felt that the meeting wasn’t the only thing that was stressing him out.

When the Company got inside, Bilbo went after Thorin to check on him. The dwarf was in the Throne Room, looking absently at its surroundings. It looked a lot more organized since the battle, but it still needed a lot of work. Some pillars were still needing to be built, and there were still some scraps from the walls.

“Thorin?” Bilbo called out. The king turned around to see his hobbit a few feet away from him, looking slightly concerned. His curly, golden hair was messy and tousled from the wind, and his hazel eyes seemed to be almost shining with the gold floor reflecting on them; his shirt was also slightly unbuttoned, which made Thorin stare at his exposed neck for a bit too long. His gaze lingered, but he quickly pulled himself back to the present.

“Bilbo,” Thorin smiled, relieved and nervous to see the man in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to check on you. You look extremely stressed out and worried. I know that the council that just happened probably wore you out, but…I feel like there is something else on your mind worrying you,” said Bilbo.

Thorin sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “You’re right, Bilbo. The council was exhaustng, but it’s not just that. The weight of everything...it’s overwhelming. The kingdom, our people, the alliances... and my own doubts.”

Bilbo stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked at the dwarf’s distressed gaze. “Doubts? About what?”

“About whether I’m truly fit to lead,” Thorin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve made so many mistakes. I let Dragon Sickness consume me, I almost lost everything. And now, rebuilding Erebor... it’s daunting. I fear I might fail.”

Bilbo’s heart ached hearing Thorin’s vulnerability. He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on the dwarf’s forearm. “Thorin, you’ve been through so much, and yet you’re still here, fighting for your people. That takes incredible strength and courage. You’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you.”

Thorin looked into Bilbo’s eyes, feeling a mixture of gratitude and longing. “Your faith in me means more than you know, Bilbo. I’ve also been wondering about something…”

“What is it?” Bilbo asked, sensing hesitation in Thorin’s voice.

“Are you planning on leaving Erebor?” Thorin asked, his tone shifting to a sad one.

The question struck Bilbo like a lightning. He has been missing the Shire quite a lot since he left it. He missed the green fields, the simplicity of his life, his books, his rocking chair, and the comforting energy of the place. However, he also found comfort in being amongst the Company. They were like his family, the family he never had, yet, the pull of home– his real home– lingered. He knew, deep down, that a hobbit wasn’t meant for the halls of the mountain.

However, there was something in Bilbo that was pulling him back to the Lonely Mountain.

But he didn’t know what it was…

Unless…

“I… I am not sure,” Bilbo responded, his voice trembling. “I…I still need to think about it. I’ve thought about the Shire, of course. I miss it– the quiet, the familiar comforts. But…”

Thorin’s eyes darkened slightly, his grip on the edge of his tunic tightening. “But?”

Bilbo swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on him. “But leaving… you all behind… it’s not an easy decision.”

Thorin stayed still as he listened, his face expressionless and his heart pounding. “You are a hobbit, Bilbo. I would never stand in the way of your return to the Shire,” Thorin said. His voice was steady, but there was a finality in the way he spoke, almost as if he were bracing himself for the answer he didn’t want to hear. Thorin had prepared for countless battles, but the idea of Bilbo leaving was one he was not ready for or could even face.

Bilbo frowned, sensing the subtle wall Thorin had put up. He was offering Bilbo freedom, but there was an undercurrent of feeling that Thorin wasn’t voicing. “I know you wouldn’t,” Bilbo said gently, his own voice growing softer. “I just don’t know what I’ll do yet. Part of me longs to go back to the life I knew, but another part…”

Bilbo trailed off, not entirely sure how to explain the complexity of his feelings. He was not even sure what was pulling him back. It wasn’t just the Company, or everything he had shared with the dwarves. It was something else, something specific, something he was not ready to admit just yet.

Thorin’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, his posture remaining steady, but there was an air of quiet tension. “You are not bound to Erebor, Bilbo,” he said carefully. “You have fulfilled your duties and more. If you wish to return to your home, no one here would hold it against you.”

Bilbo’s heart clenched at Thorin’s words. The logical part of him knew that leaving was his right, that the quest had always been temporary, something to return from. However, the thought of walking away from Erebor, from everything they had built, filled him with a deep unease.

“Thank you,” Bilbo said quietly, unsure of what else to say. “I appreciate that. I just… I need more time to think. I don’t know where I belong right now since, well, things have changed.” His voice was soft, uncertain, as if he were still trying to make sense of his own feelings.

Thorin gave a small nod, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. “Take all the time you need,” he said, his tone measured, though there was an unspoken weight behind his words.

The silence stretched between them, filled with all the things neither of them could bring themselves to say. Thorin didn’t ask for more, and Bilbo couldn’t yet give it, leaving their conversation suspended in the space between their unsaid truths.

Bilbo shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable with the tension lingering between them. “I’ll think about it,” he repeated, though the words felt small compared to the storm of emotions swirling in his chest.

Thorin inclined his head, his eyes softer than before. “I understand,” he said, though his voice carried an edge of something—perhaps regret, perhaps acceptance. He didn’t press Bilbo for more, didn’t beg or plead for him to stay. Instead, Thorin offered what he always did: a steady, unshakable presence, even in the face of uncertainty.

However, Thorin wanted to beg Bilbo to stay in Erebor. The words hovered on the edge of his lips, heavy and unspoken, but pride, that stubborn companion of his, held them back. He was a king, after all– meant to be strong, unyielding, and self-sufficient. How could he ask, no– plead, for someone to stay for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with duty or the crown?

Because Thorin– no matter how much he hated to admit it– needed Bilbo.

He didn’t need him as an advisor or to fulfill some practical role within the kingdom. No, this need was something deeper, something more terrifying. It gnawed at his insides, a raw and unfamiliar sensation. The Lonely Mountain, restored to its former glory, felt... empty without the hobbit’s quiet presence. Bilbo had brought light into the shadowed halls, a warmth Thorin hadn't realized he craved until now.

Thorin’s fists clenched involuntarily at his sides. This wasn’t the kind of weakness a king should even reveal. Not to his council, not to his people– perhaps not even to Bilbo himself. Yet, it gnawed at him, the fear of watching the hobbit walk away, taking with him that rare, fleeting sense of peace Thorin hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

And yet, Thorin remained silent.

***

Notes: I wish gay people existed.

Por Cualquier Otro Nombre (By Any Other Name) Capítulo 3: Los amigos viejos no se olvidan

Escrita por: @rowansparrow @rowansparrow-writing. Traducida al español por @mofftarkinsthunderthighs

(Cover creada por @hockeyjedi13)

Resumen: Rex te sigue al trastero del bar para

Rex follows you to the back room of the bar to check on you, and you trade stories about what used to be.

Esta historia NO ES de mi propiedad, le pertenece a RowanSparrow (Ao3) y @rowansparrow @rowansparrow-writing en Tumblr. Esto es solo una traducción. Todos los créditos van a Rowan.

Clasificación: Audiencia General

Advertencias: leve consumo de alcohol y maldiciones, y un poco de apuestas

Ships: Rex x lectora, Fives x lectora, Echo x lectora, Clon OC x lectora, etc.

Tags: #ByAnyOtherName, #BAON

Palabras: 1.7k (traducción: 1.9k)

Link a la historia en Español (Archive of our Own)

Capítulo 3 en Inglés

Historia completa en Inglés/ENG (Archive of our Own)

Lista a la lista capítulos en Inglés (Tumblr)

***

No esperaste verlo otra vez.

Por supuesto, una parte tuya esperaba que te encontrarías con él en 79s de nuevo. ¿Pero cuáles eran las chances de que él estuviera ahí? Cielos, ¿cuáles eran las chances de que él incluso recordó tu nombre?

Entraste al bar con precaución medida, consciente que no estabas con tus amigas ahora. Aunque ellas no te ofrecieron mucho apoyo moral la anterior última vez que fueron aquí para una salida, aún se sentía extraño venir sola. Vacilaste, buscando a Rose, envolviendo tus brazos a tu alrededor, y de repente sintiéndote increíblemente ansiosa cuando no apareció de inmediato.

Esta ha sido una estúpida idea.

Sacudiste tu cabeza. Si ya estabas adivinandote a ti misma, tal vez lo mejor era simplemente irse y salvarte de la vergüenza. Te diste la vuelta hacia la salida rápidamente, lista para salir. Cuales sean los pequeños dioses que están allá afuera deben haber estado cuidando esa noche, porque antes de que atravesaras las puertas, alguien se chocó contra ti.

–¡Ah, kriff! Perdón señorita!–El clon gorjeó, cuidadoso al estabilizar los vasos en sus manos mientras se movía rápidamente a tu alrededor. Reconociste la huella en la armadura del soldado. Él fue uno de los hombre que sacó a Rose de ti la noche que se conocieron.

Te paraste de puntas, con tus ojos siguiéndolo a una mesa redonda en la esquina de atrás de la cantina. El soldado se apuró y se sentó, distribuyendo las bebidas y luego pasando una bebida ámbar al hombre en su derecho. También lo reconociste. Incluso desde una distancia, la barbilla y el tatuaje numérico en su frente eran difíciles de no reconocer.

Los soldados parecían que estaban esperando por las bebidas reabastecidas, porque tan pronto como el soldado con la huella de la mano en su armadura tomó asiento, el tatuado inmediatamente empezó a repartir cartas.

Te acercaste un poco más, intentando echar un vistazo de los otros jugadores sin ser demasiado obvia. Tal vez venir aquí fue una buena idea después de todo…

–No, no, ya repartiste la última mano, di’kut.– Un soldado con un de la República mientras le dio un manotazo a las manos del otro hombre.–Es mi turno.

–¡No!– Él protestó.–Echo tenía la última. ¡Después fue a traer bebidas así que ahora es mi turno!

–El objetivo de que yo traiga bebidas era para que puedas repartir mientras yo no estaba.– El que se llamaba Echo arrastró sus palabras.

–Dejen de pelear y solo repartan las malditas cartas.– Otro clon rezongó. –Sabrá la fuerza que ya perdí suficientes manos a Rose. ¡Terminemos con esto!

Tu corazón dio un vuelco. Rose. Intentaste verte discreta mientras te acercabas más para ver el resto de la mesa.

–Ah, no seas un mal perdedor, ‘Case. Tendrías más suerte con tus cartas si dejaras de mostrarlas a mi la mitad del tiempo.

–¡Eso es trampa!–

–Entonces pon tus cartas hacia arriba, vod

La risa de Rose fue lo que finalmente te hizo voltear completamente para enfrentar a la mesa. No estaba con toda su armadura esta vez. En cambio, llevaba una armadura debajo del cinturón, pero la parte de arriba de su cuerpo solo era el traje negro que los clones se ponian debajo de las piezas de armadura. La parte de arriba de su traje estaba levemente desabrochada, mostrando un triángulo del pecho de Rose y lo que parecían ser tatuajes adornando su piel de bronce. Algo de la piel expuesta era suficiente para que tu boca se vuelva completamente seca, una intimidad más tentadora que si estuviera desnudo de abajo.

Sospechabas que Rose debió haber sentido tu mirar. Mientras la mirada del soldado se desplazaba de sus cartas, sus bellos ojos se dirigieron directamente a ti. Luego, por un momento, te congelaste, tu mandíbula abriendo y cerrándose en pánico mientras pensabas en algo que decir, una explicación de por qué estabas acechando en las sombras, mirándolos.

Pero Rose dio una sonrisa.

–¡Oye! ¡Yo te conozco!

Los hombres en la mesa se dieron la vuelta y sentiste el calor subir a tus mejillas.

–Solo estaba- lo siento, y-yo no quise interrumpir-

–Nah, ¡Ven aquí! Tenemos espacio.– Él alcanzó sobre su hombro, agarrando una silla de una mesa cercana y la balanceo por encima sin esfuerzo. La puso justamente a su lado.–T/N, ¿no?

Asentiste; tu voz no estaba por ahora. ¿Recordó tu nombre?

–Chicos, esta es T/N.– Rose señaló a los hombres alrededor de la mesa.–Por ahí, esos son Fives y Echo.

Echo te dio un pequeño saludo y Fives sonrió, ofreciendo un pequeño saludo con dos dedos.

–Este es Jesse, Kix, y-

–Hardcase.– El soldado [inmediatamente] a tu derecha se introdujo y te ofreció su mano. Ya agarraste y él la sacudió con vigor.–¿Sabes jugar Sabacc?

–Eh… no.

–Lo vas a aprender rápido. ¡Rose te puede entrenar! Él es natural.

–Eso es porque él es un estratega y hace trampa.– Jesse murmuró, tomando un trago largo de su bebida. Rose arrugó su nariz y le flasheó una pequeña sonrisa. Fives luego repartió las cartas a todos, y cuando cada hombre tenía una baraja completa de cartas, Rose te entregó sus cartas.

–Esto aquí es el bote de mano.–Rose explicó, apuntando a un montón de lo que parecía chatarra enfrente de él.–Y ese más grande es el bote de Sabacc. Los ganadores de mano se llevan el bote de mano, y quién gane el juego en general se lleva el bote de Sabacc. ¿Tiene sentido?

Asentiste, intentando seguir a lo largo.–¿Qué están apostando?– Preguntaste, alzando una pequeña bolsa de lona más cercana a ti. Te arriesgaste a echar un vistazo y te sorprendiste de encontrar dos caramelos duros.

–Contrabando.– Hardcase respondió con complicidad.–O lo que sea que tengamos.

No que tuviéramos créditos para apostar.

–Cartas arriba, cariño.– Rose te dijo, alcanzando el dorso de tu mano para inclinar tus manos hacia atrás. Incluso a través de su guante, podías sentir el calor de su palma contra tus nudillos. Lo miraste y él te dio una sonrisa encantadora.

–Ya, Fives repartió… así que Jesse debería empezar, ¿Si?– Kix asintió hacia la mesa. Rose se movió para que él se sentara un poco detrás de ti. Su brazo colocado alrededor de la parte de atrás de tu silla y miró a las cartas por encima de tu hombro. Movió su cabeza abajo, sus labios apenas rozando tu oreja mientras hablaba.

–Tu objetivo...–Rose murmuró en una voz solo para ti.–Es no sobrepasarse de veintitrés. Cada carta tiene un valor diferente.

Sentiste un escalofrío recorrer tu columna e intentaste concentrarte en el juego mientras Rose te guiaba en silenciosamente de atrás. Hardcase fue el primero en bombardearse, teatralmente tirando sus cartas a la mesa en un suspiro. Jesse, Kix y Echo fueron eliminados cuando pasaron de 20. Luego el juego se derivó a Fives y a ti.

Then it came down between you and Fives.

Fives te examinó desde el otro lado de la mesa, arqueando una ceja. Sacó una carta y sonrió afectadamente, sosteniendo su baraja cerca de su pecho.

–Estás en veinte.–Rose susurró a tu oído.–Si sacas algo arriba de tres, vas a bombardearte. Puedes esperar que tu mano sea más alta que la de Fives… o puedes sacar una carta.

–¿Qué piensas?– Fives sonrió mientras inclinaba la cabeza hacia ti.–¿Te sientes afortunada?

Miraste a Rose de nuevo en busca de orientación, pero el solo encogió sus hombros. Sonreíste, volviendo haci turning back to Fives

Sacaste una carta.

Te abriste un camino hacia el trastero de atrás, apuntalando tus palmas contra las repisas mientras tratabas de estabilizar tu respiración. Tu simplemente no podías recuperar tu aliento; tu pecho apretando más fuerte con cada inhalación rasposa que intentabas.

Te hundiste a tus rodillas, tus manos pegadas detrás de tu cabeza y acurrucada sobre ti misma mientras luchabas por tener aire.

Brevemente registraste la puerta abriendo y cerrándose detrás de ti. El crujido de la armadura apropiadamente llamó tu atención mientras el Capitán Rex se arrodilló enfrente de ti. Él delicadamente apartó tus manos de tu cabeza.

–Respira.– Él murmuró.–Vamos. Inhala conmigo, exhala conmigo.

Intentaste coincidir con su respiración, las lágrimas corriendo por tus mejillas y arruinando tu maquillaje.

–Inhala...exhala.–Rex repitió, extendiendo una mano para limpiar tus lágrimas.

–¡No!– le espetaste, alejándote de sus manos. Rex las sostuvo en rendición, sentándose sobre sus talones.

–T/N, necesito que respires, o voy a tener que llamar a Kix.

Cerraste tus ojos, intentando tranquilizarte. La sangre latía a través de tus oídos, e inhalaste un respiro agudo.

–Inhala… exhala… inhala… exhala… eso es.

Lentamente, tu respiración se relajó y te apoyaste contra la pared, tu cabeza golpeando contra el duracero.

Rex suspiró y se sentó con las piernas cruzadas frente a ti.–Lo siento… Yo… yo no debí venir.– Dijo suavemente.–No nunca quise molestarte.

–No es tu culpa.–Finalmente dijiste, frotándote la cara con las manos, por agotamiento.–Simplemente es…– Inhalaste un suspiro profundo.–Duro.

Se sentaron en silencio por harto tiempo. El zumbido distante de la música y los gritos de la cantina eran los únicos ruidos a su alrededor, hasta que Rex finalmente habló.

–Era uno de los únicos que podía soportar.

Dejaste que tu cabeza se inclinara hacia él y levantaste una ceja.

–Rose, digo.– Dijo Rex, mirando sus manos.–Amo a todos mis hermanos. Pero los chicos en Torrent… pueden ser insufribles.

Te reíste.–No me imagine. Fives ya es lo suficiente malo cuando está borracho y viene a molestarme. Estás atascado con él todo el tiempo.

–No tienes idea.–Rex esbozó una pequeña sonrisa y pellizcó la tela de su guante.–Rose… él actuaría cómo los demás, a veces. Hacer travesuras con Fives y Echo. Hacer algo estúpido en el campo de batalla y terminar con Kix, seguro. Lo usual. Pero Rose…–

Rex sacudió la cabeza con cariño, como si estuviera recordando una memoria lejana.–Rose era amable.

Levantaste las rodillas hasta el pecho y cerraste los ojos; una ola de relajación calmandote mientras escuchabas al capitán clon.

–Era el tipo de soldado al que siempre acudían los shinies.– La voz de Rex llegó a través de la pequeña habitación y centurreaste suavemente, imaginando a Rose hablando con el joven vode de ojos brillantes recién salido de Kamino.

–Los tomaría bajo su alas, mostrarles las literas abiertas… les diría donde esconder sus equipos. Después de sus primeras batallas, él sería el que se sentaría y hablaría hasta que se durmieran

Abriste un ojo al escuchar un golpe duro. Rex se movió para apoyarse contra la pared al lado tuyo, sus ojos también cerrados; su cara relajada mientras hablaba.

–Era un buen chico.–Rex murmuró. –Y cielos...él te amaba.

–No.–Susurraste mientras sacudes tu cabeza, dándole una pequeña y triste sonrisa.–No… ahora no.

Rex lo entendió y puso su cabeza encima de la tuya en un gesto afeccionado. Le dió un apretón reconfortante. Luego pareció recordar de repente con quién estaba hablando y rápidamente retiró su mano. Rex se aclaró la garganta y se puso de pie.

–Entonces.–Agarró su casco del suelo, y luego incómodamente comenzó a avanzar hacia la puerta.–Voy a-voy a dejarte sola. Felicidades por la inauguración. Lo hiciste bien.

Se fue rápidamente después de eso y te quedaste atrás, mirando al techo y pensando en el pasado.