"...What do you mean, 'not an excuse', past trauma is in fact a perfectly reasonable reason to be tense when you are reminded of it, especially when you've been too busy saving the galaxy to work out a - knot in your brain, that you thought you'd already successfully worked around."

She puts a hand to her head, pressing with her knuckles. "I apologise. I did not mean to trouble you with this. I... take your point, but it still seems a small thing, next to everything else. And I really would not have expected to be so troubled, being who I am."

"...I'm hardly troubled by helping you, as I've no doubt you would wish to help me were our situations reversed.  There is nothing to apologize for.  And...  The small things make it easier to work on the big ones."

"I would."

She doesn't have a confessor here. She didn't expect to need one so soon. 

All right. She squeezes her eyes shut and composes herself.

"...Thank you. It was - this is surprisingly difficult to talk about. I was young. It was... I don't really know where to begin. I think it's the fact of being... enclosed, somewhere it isn't even possible to walk away from. I... ah. I have a feeling I could tell a penitent how to do this but somehow not myself."

"So talk me through it, then; how would you guide a penitent who needed that help, to the right state for help to be...  Ah, well...  helpful?"

...

Some part of her is flinching away - actually nearly all of her is, she notes distantly, she's just carrying on anyway because of course she is.

Ophelia is not of the Faith - she's not prioritised formally converting and baptising her, just yet, she is esteemed in the view of the Goddess and she has the sense that's something she should... back up with more than bracing words. But she's close enough. Logically speaking, the Prophet himself was a heathen to begin with. It still probably would have been a good idea to talk to him. And it's not as though she'd be exposing herself to danger, here.

"...I am not sure. Tell the story, I think. So. I was born outside holy lands, in the far north. When I was young - fourteen, I think - my village was raided and burned, and I was carried off. It was... not pleasant treatment." Her voice is still cold and commanding, it's at odds with the words themselves. "I was chained, below decks, I do not know how long, I did not see the sun. They did other raids, captured others, they kept me for some time. I... do remember dwelling on the fact that to escape would be to drown. I couldn't, anyway. I..." she stops for a moment. She still has no presence in the Force, but the muscles of her jaw are working and her whole body radiates tension. 

"...ah.

"...Well.  At least I know where to find professionals at dealing with that sort of trauma, because I employ far too many of them."

"...Don't...  You shouldn't push yourself to tell me something that you're not ready to say, in any case.  These things take time to be ready to talk about, and talking about it before you're ready can worsen the wound."

"So do I." Her lips twitch a little. Humour does help. "In a sense I employ all of them."

"Thank you. But - it was a long time ago, I can speak of it. It isn't the first time ever. It did surprise me how badly being here affected me."

"...Food is scarce aboard ship, normally slaves were moved and sold on quickly. I am not sure why they kept me so long. I was raped quite frequently, I suppose that goes some way to explaining it, though why me in particular I can't imagine. They kept me isolated, but I found ways to talk to other slaves. I tried - thinking of ways to escape, ways to get people to work together even if only to die - that's when I was Chosen. There was... a man I could have healed, that day, could have saved, and I didn't. I needed all my strength for the plan, and - She did not renounce me, for that, and it did work, in the end."

"...The Academy was a far different flavor of bad, because they were trying to make the initiates become the overseers, but...  I can, regrettably, relate to that decision."

"...I'm sorry to hear it. It is - in many ways a sort of decision I make often, now. We cannot do all the good we would like."

Why does she feel suddenly hollow? ...Because she was talking about why being aboard this ship is distracting her so badly, and now she's discussing something else, all of a sudden. She shifts her posture into an awkward sort of knot, muscles tight. 

"...You seem very tense."

Her mouth twitches into a tiny smile. "I am very tense." Her fingers drum on the seat beside her. 

She extends her hand towards Beryllia's, sitting down and looking away, off into the middle distance, because she'd feel a bit safer that way and Beryllia reminds her too much of herself.

...She takes her hand, after a moment, she is wise enough to do that. She physically forces her fingers to relax, her palms are uncomfortably sweaty and prickly but she can hold on. She squeezes a little. 

She probably doesn't get enough human contact these days. 

Ophelia squeezes back, slender fingers rubbing soothing circles into Beryllia's hand.  The sweat wicks away, instinctively.

"I feel as though I should ask if you would like a hug, though I really do understand if the answer is that you would not."

She nods a little jerkily and leans in. 

Then there will be a warm and firmly supportive hug.

That does, in fact, help, which shouldn't be surprising. 

After a moment she puts her arms around her too, and a little of the tension starts to recede. She's tangibly wiry and thin to the touch.

"...Thank you."

"It's the least I could possibly do, I feel.  You remind me so much of myself, and there are many, many times I've wished for a hug from someone who I didn't - make, no matter that her development was her own doing."

"...you should eat more," she murmurs, after a moment.

...In that case she sort of shifts her position and - holds her more? She really doesn't understand how to do this, but this kind of thing is actually important for people. 

"Ah. It would be good if I could, I'm not sure it's sensible prioritisation."

You're doing just fine.  Like that, yes.

"It is, in fact, sensible prioritization for you to fuel yourself properly for all the important things you get up to.  You need food to do things, you know?"

"I'm well aware. I do. But - the demands of my duties are always growing and there are constant emergencies, making myself eat and taking time to ensure it would be a significant tradeoff. ...There are two other Most High Priests in active service, that is all."

"...Acquire a ready supply of snackable foods for in-between moments, if that's not what you already do.  Force knows that's how I manage, sometimes, when there's enough things that I can't delegate all cropping up simultaneously.  A bag of nuts, or something."