[Sighing, Edge reaches out a hand; his Hebby Repp passes him the swords he'd dropped what seems like a lifetime ago. He sheathes them, using the gesture as an excuse not to look at the communicator.]

Maybe you'll be less of a stranger when you haven't lived months from one day to the next... Maybe it'll be easier to make the most of our time when we have a little bit closer to the same amount.

[If not for the time difference between the Feymarch and here, he might have taken things much differently. Convincing himself she'd come back would have been easy, after all, with the right combination of willful denial and egotism. If she'd gone somewhere he could have visited himself, even easier; what girl could resist a dashing monarch swooping down on her to give her a ride in the Falcon?]

But this isn't just a reunion. We have troubles here. There are dangers and enemies to face. Not every waking moment like old times, but we're needed here.

[He assumes she'll join the fight willingly and without hesitation... the same he'd assume it of anyone he liked and respected. Childish though he may be in some ways, Edge still has the ironclad determination and sense of right that makes some decisions easy for him no matter how conflicted others might be.]