Carson noticed none of it; the cheery apologies from people that he’d smashed into, the desperate complaining of destitute souls to their government, and the lauding of those seeking nothing more than a nod that they could take home to their families. His eyes were inside the building, a mixture of fear and joy as his feet steered him towards his daughter.

All the commotion from outside diminished so that the light chink of metal on duracrete echoed loudly in his ears, and the gently swish-swish of the paper as it settle to the floor sounded like a wire brush on gravel against the silence in the room.

How long he stood there, within arm’s reach of Aricia, he could not count. He was aware, dimly, that the noise outside had abated, as if the crowd was collectively holding its breath in anticipation of his actions. Finally, lamely, he spoke.

“I…it’s…” He fell silent and stood for another moment before stooping swiftly to retrieve his daughter’s dropped items. He did not look at them, but his hand jerked several times as he held it out, palm up, to Aricia.

As Aricia reached her arms around him he felt constriction in his throat, a kind of pain in his nose, and a slight tingle at the corner of his eyes. He cleared his throat several times to avoid breaking down in the store but despite his best efforts a single tear welled in his left eye and rolled down his long nose where it balanced for a few seconds before falling into her hair.

The silence was palpable, the actions meaning far more than any word could ever say but Jory felt that something needed said, after all, he had hardly talked to his daughter at all in several years. The problem was that he did not know what a father said to his daughter after so much silence, so many years of near total neglect.

As the stood there, locked in an emotional embrace he began to remember the day they met; he had very nearly lost her then. He could recall, with perfect clarity, how they had survived those first few weeks, he had seemed to think that pretending she did not exist would make things go better, at least until he realized that she was already pulling away. After that he had tried to take an active role in her life, of course he had never been a teenaged girl so relating to her was difficult at best.

His next move had been to find her a female role model; disastrous did not begin to describe how that idea went. Things finally started to work out when he started to pay attention to what she surrounded herself with: art. After he secured her a position in the Coruscant Academy of Art things started to go well and seemed to do so until she turned eighteen.

Perhaps it was her choice of boyfriends that started it all, but Carson knew the real reason was that he’d distanced himself from her when she started dating. It was fear that she’d pick someone that he’d never approve of, and the understanding that he’d never approve of whomever she chose. It was a decidedly irritating thing for a father to watch his daughter (even one that he’d only known for some three years) grow into an independent woman.

Still they stood, Carson stiffly, his daughter languid, and people had begun to stare. Something, or someone, had to break the silence, to move at least. A thousand things rushed to his mind, hundreds of apologies to make, hundreds of promises to reiterate. ‘I love you’ and ‘I’ve missed you’, or ‘I’ve been a fool’ among them, but they all vanished beneath the shame of having said all of them to himself at one point without ever picking up the comm. to call her.

Finally, after what could have been minutes, or hours, Carson stirred, a slight shifting of his feet and, without breaking the embrace, spoke.

“I have been thinking of leaving the Senate.”

He had allowed his job to rob him of the life he could have had years before too, when he was a mere soldier; Helen, his love, had been neglected ‘for a greater cause’. True, then he was ordered to do the job that he’d signed up for, true it needed done, true his efforts combined with that of millions of others had finally won freedom for the rebellion, but it had cost him a wife and a child.

Later he had devoted himself to the Senate so much that, when Aricia showed up he didn’t appreciate her the way he should have. She could have been his second chance. True, Helen was gone, but he’d gotten a glimmer of the ‘family life’ that he’d always dreamed about. He’d let that slip through his fingers as well. This time though, he was determined not to make the same mistake.

“I know,” he whispered softly into her hair. He held the embrace for a few moments more before gently unfolding himself. The crown outside had seemingly doubled in size and a few people actually had their faces pressed against the transparisteel so they could oggle the Senator in a rare moment of emotion. He cleared his throat again and glanced around the room.

“This is a nice place you’ve established here, I didn’t know that you…this is really amazing Aricia.” He completed his turn and returned his eyes to her. “You’ve grown up so much,” he said softly. “I wish I hadn’t missed it,” he finished, and he meant it.

Then he asked her to dinner, she would smile, though she could feel the ring weighing down her apron as she frowns slightly, "Umm...I would love to, but I kind of...already have plans for tonight." Farland better be worth this, worth not spending time with her father. Worth putting off fixing their relationship for one more day.

She would let out a sigh, her shoulders sinking for a moment as she nods her head "Actually, yes" she spoke softly. She was hopeful about this dinner date though she did not want to hurt her father, that was the last thing she ever wanted to do. She would try to smile to him "I'm not really sure though if you want to we could go out tomorrow night." she would flash him another smile "I will even dress up if you want, or you could come over to my place and I could make you dinner, if you wanted." She would smile a tad bit more. She was trying, she wanted to be around him, she wanted him to be part of the life. She would even move back in, if he wanted her to, so they could be a family.

Aricia would watch him look at the paintings behind her and off to the side, she would frown slightly. Her artwork had gone considerably darker over the years, one painting tucked far in a back corner that was barely visible, looked oddly like blood on a white canvas. She would take in a deep breath "Are you sure? It would be no problem to make dinner, but if you want....I can meet you at your office" she would smile again.