Steel Meets Silk [Commander Colt x F!OC]

1- Shadows on the Horizon

The soft light of morning poured through the windows, casting long, delicate shadows across the marble floors. I stood by the large glass pane that framed the expansive gardens beyond. The air was still cool, the scent of fresh earth mingling with the faint smell of jasmine. The world outside seemed so... normal. A serene, calm place, untouched by the turmoil that was making its way toward us. Or maybe it was already here. I wasn't sure anymore.

My conversation with Padmé lingered in my thoughts. The war isn't that far away, she had said, her voice tinged with concern. She had seen something in the future I couldn't see yet. The weight of it had pressed on me long after the gala ended. The idea that the Republic's war for peace might actually matter to me, that it would be more than just a headline on a datapad—it felt like a storm gathering on the horizon.

I had tried to brush it off, tried to tell myself that it wasn't my fight. But there was something in Padmé's gaze—something in the quiet strength she carried—that made me feel the cracks in my bubble, the bubble I had carefully curated for years. My life had always been one of luxury and security, untouched by the harsh realities of the galaxy. But now, I couldn't escape the feeling that it was all about to change.

I made my way to the kitchen, the motion almost automatic. I prepared something simple—a light breakfast of fresh fruit, delicate pastries, and coffee.

But as I sat down at the dining table, the food didn't hold any appeal. I absently picked at a pastry, my mind too occupied with my father's words from the night before. You're ready for this. He had said it with such confidence, as though I could just step into his world without question, without hesitation. But the truth was, I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure I ever would be.

The reality of my life—this perfect, curated world—had started to feel like a cage. Every decision I made, every step I took, was expected, planned out in advance, as if my choices were already written in stone. And yet, the more I tried to hold on to the structure of it, the more it felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

I could still hear Padmé's voice, her quiet warning about the war's effects on the galaxy. I wish it were that simple, she had said. I wondered if she knew how hard it was to imagine something so far from my reality. How could I understand what it felt like to truly be affected by the war when I had never known anything but comfort and privilege?

I stood up abruptly, unable to sit still anymore. My legs carried me back to the window, where I looked out over the estate again, trying to find something solid to cling to. But the world beyond seemed distant, unfamiliar. The war, the markets, my father's empire—all of it felt like it was closing in on me, threatening to erase the life I had always known.

As I sat there, lost in thought, the sound of a knock on my door broke the silence. I knew who it was before I even stood up. My father, always punctual, never one to be late. His presence was almost as predictable as the steady tick of a clock.

I opened the door to find him standing there, impeccably dressed, his posture straight and commanding. The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air as he gave me a brief, assessing look.

"Morning, Sweetheart," he greeted me, his voice low and steady as he stepped inside, taking in the quiet of my apartment. "You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep," I replied, pushing the cup of tea aside. "I've been thinking about last night."

"What's on your mind?" he asked, his voice a little more serious now, as if he sensed something was amiss.

"I've just... been thinking about a conversation with Padmé," I admitted, not sure if I wanted to admit the unease I felt. "She seemed... worried. About the war. About the impact it's having on the galaxy."