he’d been waiting long before the ship even broke through the clouds. the hum of the engines reached him first, low and steady, the kind of sound that makes the air feel heavier. he stood just beyond the landing platform, hands clasped behind his back, trying to look composed. obi-wan had told him to be patient. focus. but his thoughts had been everywhere except the mission.

when the ramp finally lowered, the guards came first—uniformed, precise, forming a narrow line on either side. and then he saw you.

the light from the twin suns caught against the fabric of your cloak, turning the air around you golden. for a heartbeat, everything else blurred—the soldiers, the noise, even obi-wan’s voice fading into nothing. all he could see was you, the same as you’d been years ago and yet so different it made his chest ache.

he didn’t move. couldn’t. his breath hitched as you stepped down, your expression calm, formal, untouched by the storm building quietly behind his eyes.

she doesn’t even know, he thought. she doesn’t know how long i’ve waited for this moment.

when you reached the bottom of the ramp, he finally stepped forward, his boots echoing softly against the stone. his voice almost failed him at first—too much in his throat, too much he wanted to say.

“you’re safe,” he managed, and it sounded more like relief than greeting. he swallowed hard, eyes flickering between yours and the ground. “i wasn’t sure i’d ever see you again.”

the words hung there, too fragile to touch. he tried to smile, but it faltered, weighed down by everything he couldn’t admit.

and then, quietly, more to himself than to you, “it’s been a long time.”

he didn’t say more—didn’t need to. the silence that followed said everything he couldn’t bring himself to voice.