Heritage-Chapter 12

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Padmé stood very slowly, never breaking eye contact. The room was in a sound vacuum. Not a single noise was uttered, even the voluminous layers of her skirts kept their whispers unvoiced. Inside her though, was chaos. Every fear and hope she had held for all those lonely years made her waver unsteadily on her feet, the impact of the moment enough to make black spots dance in her peripheral vision. This is it, she kept thinking. This is it. You’ve finally made it. This is it.

When she finally tested the meager strength of her vocals chords only one utterance made it through. “Luke.” It was spoken in a sigh, soft and swallowed in the heavy silence.

He took a step forward and all of a sudden the clammy hush that had enveloped the common room evaporated. “Oh gods,” she murmured and didn’t realize she had collapsed until she found herself caught in his arms and looking up into his wondering face. She took her careful time finding her feet again, holding onto the broad plane of his shoulders to steady herself. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled at last. Whether it was for having to be caught or for abandoning him upon birth she didn’t know, and supposed it didn’t matter.

He continued to hold her firmly, as if afraid she would crumple again. His blue eyes were the exact shade Anakin’s had been, she noted. The knowledge warmed her.

She had her memories, but they faded sadly with time. The exact definitions of her husband’s face became fuzzier as decades went by. Soon it had been harder to recall the way his mouth had moved when he talked, and even the particular inflections of his voice were less clear than they used to be. Eventually she had to meditate for hours to recollect the warmth his hands induced when he touched her. But she could see all those things when she looked at her son. Every good thing she had ever cherished about Anakin lived on this man. He would have been so proud.

“For what?” he asked back. Neither of them seemed to feel the gazes of the others in the room, the hesitant stares.

Padmé swiped at a tear as it slipped from the corner of her left eye. “Everything.”

He pulled back but kept his hands on her shoulders. A look of awe passed over his face, that, she noticed, was lined with small and numerous stately scars. Each one spoke of a different battle won, of the difficult life he had led. And all of those things could have been prevented if not for her own stupidly bad choices. “Then you are my mother.” He shifted his stance, his weight going from foot to foot. “I can feel it,” his tone was animated and sure.

That was something Anakin would have said. It was probably the entirely wrong thing to say at a time like this but it slipped easily from her lips. “Your father would have been so proud of you.”

Padmé was crushed in his embrace then, both of them sobbing at the memory of the man and for the reunion that was far too long in coming. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was the only thing that kept running through her head. She had to make him understand that it hadn’t been her fault, her choice. She had thought so many times that if she had been in a better state of body and mind the day he and Leia were born that Obi-Wan would never have taken them from her. She wouldn’t have allowed it. But Anakin’s fall had devastated her, she had almost died in child birth, and Obi-Wan had been so…compassionate. He had held her hand and told her the things she needed to hear. There had been logic and reason in him, something she had always relied on and rarely gotten.

“I know,” was Luke’s answer, soft against her ear. “Me too.”

She pulled back, not out of his touch but enough to look him in the eye without having to tilt her head up uncomfortably. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me either,” and by the pitch of his pronunciation she knew he meant it.

“You can’t forgive me this easily,” she continued.

He shook his head gently. “I forgave my father a very long time ago. But you I never had to.”

“I left you!” she insisted. “I let Obi-Wan convince me and then he took you away where I could never find you—”

“Because it had to be done,” his nod was resolute. Oh, he looked so much like Anakin!

“How can you know that?” she gasped, clutched in the vice of guilt. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know what Obi-Wan told me. He said that we were hidden to keep us safe. If you didn’t love us you wouldn’t have cared enough. And now you’re here. Why else would you be?”

Padmé bit her lower lip, amazed by his capacity to forgive. She sighed deeply and shook her head. “There’s so much I want to say and don’t know how.”

His smile was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen. “Let’s take it one step at a time, then.”

• * *

At some point during the emotional greeting most of the observers had slipped away to allow some privacy. Although Jaina itched to see her grandmother’s dreams finally come to fruition—as well as the miraculous fulfillment of Luke’s most unlikely wish—she knew that it wasn’t her place. So she filed out behind everyone else, Jag Fel still angrily in tow. Even if she would never admit it aloud, she almost enjoyed annoying him. The fact he had given her an excuse to put him in binders was even more delightful. She was rarely challenged in such a manner, and so their banter was oddly exquisite on some level.

But at the moment the joy she derived from ribbing the stiff-necked colonel took a backburner to her want to know what had happened with her mother. For some reason her dad and Uncle Luke had come home without Leia, and whatever reason was behind it could not be good.

Outside the Jade Sabre Jacen, Anakin, and Mara congregated around Han to hear the news. Jaina, unwilling to be distracted, looked for any way to temporarily pawn her hostage off on someone else. Seeing that Wedge Antilles was, after all, his uncle, he seemed as appropriate a scapegoat as any.

“Where are we going?” Jag demanded.

“I thought you might like to meet your family,” she smiled, pulling him towards the edge of the landing platform Wedge, Iella, and Admiral Ackbar had claimed.

“How do you know I won’t convince him to help me go free? He is my uncle,” Jag scoffed.

“Let’s say I have a feeling,” she replied dryly. “Hey, Wedge!”

The three New Republic officers looked up at her intrusion. “What is it, Jaina?” the general asked gently.

“Wedge Antilles, meet Jagged Fel. Jag, meet your Uncle Wedge. You two have a nice time,” she winked and jogged back without another word.

“Hey, kid,” her dad nodded gravely as she shouldered her way between Jacen and Anakin to hear what was being said. “I was just telling them about your mother.”

“What happened?” she gasped. Jacen’s arm settled around her shoulder and she knew then that it wasn’t bad; it was worse. The sinking feeling in her gut expanded.

“Well,” Han drawled softly, “we found her. We talked to her. We tried to get her out…and she wouldn’t come.”

Jaina’s shock was eclipsed only by Mara’s “What?” they both squealed together.

“I don’t understand,” Anakin exclaimed next. “How could she not come?”

“I don’t know any better than you,” Han sighed, his inward torture evident. “She went on with some sort of bantha poodoo about destiny, and the will Force. She said they needed her. Like her place was with them…” he trailed off bitterly. Jaina had never heard Han Solo sound like that before, not at the most dire of times. His timbre froze her soul.

“That’s crazy. Leia would never do that,” Mara spat. “Han, what happened?”

“It was like she wasn’t even really there,” Han told her. “Like she was speaking but the words weren’t coming from her. I think they’ve brainwashed her,” he concluded grimly.

“So you just left her?” Jacen asked at last. So far he had been the most quiet of the bunch. “You gave up?” his indignant reproach more than evident.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Han replied, meeting Jacen’s cool accusation with a fiery retort. “They stunned us and shipped us off before we could do anything. And she just watched. She didn’t even try to stop them.”

“Why wouldn’t Mom want to come home?” Anakin queried, sounding genuinely confused. “There had to be a reason. She’s smarter than that.”

“Well that’s what I thought too,” Han ground. Jaina’s heart went out to him, fearful of his rage and despair. She had never seen him like this and wished she never had. All of a sudden his thinking shifted and he demanded, “But who is that woman? Is that really Luke and Leia’s mom? And how the hell did she get here?”

“Her name is Padmé,” Jaina pounced on the subject. “I found her on Nirauan. She’s been hiding there since the Jedi Purge. After the Empire fell the Chiss who lived there wouldn’t let her leave. And yes, she is our grandmother. I’m sure of it.”

Han shook his head slowly. “That’s a hard pill for me to swallow, Jaina. There’s been more than one kook claiming to be Anakin Skywalker’s wife over the years. What makes this Padmé any different?”

“Besides the fact we all can sense the truth of it? Her story has no holes. It all makes sense. And she knows things she couldn’t possibly know otherwise,” Jaina told them all. “I know it’s hard, but couldn’t you see how much this meant to them both?” she waved at the Jade Sabre. “Even if you have doubts, Dad, for their sake, don’t question it right now. I know it’s the truth. Let that be enough for now.”

He nodded slowly, running a tired hand through his hair. “Okay. You’re right.”

“Now,” Mara switched subjects, “before we do anything else need to fill you in on what’s been happening here politically. We’ve come up with a plan…”

• * *

“Thank you,” Luke smiled at his wife, taking the steaming cup of hot chocolate she offered. Mara took a seat on the divan beside him, sliding under his arm and sipping her own cup. It was the first moment they had been alone since his return, and the spectacular sunset reflecting off the Coruscant high rises and through the window of their balcony provided a perfectly intimate setting.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

He glanced down at her, only seeing the brown tip of her nose from under the mane of luscious red hair. “So what next?” he voiced both their thoughts.

She drew her legs underneath her and leaned further into his chest, letting his chin cup the top of her head. “A lot of things,” she sighed. “It’s been a very long day. So much has changed.” Her face lifted to his. “Your whole life not the least of it.”

He chuckled despite himself and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I don’t think it’s hit me yet. Watch out when it does though.”

She laughed in return and pressed her face back against his neck. “Yeah, I had a feeling.” She paused briefly then said, “Do you think Padmé will be okay in the guest room? I mean, she went right up when we got here.”

Luke nodded, the accumulated scruff on his chin grating against her smooth forehead. “I think she’s exhausted, that’s all. I am too. I’m torn between being euphoric over having found her at last, to being miserable because Leia’s not here to share it with me. This should have been our moment together. She’s just as much Leia’s mother as mine.”

Mara’s hand squeezed his knee comfortingly. “She has something to find, about herself or the Force I don’t know, but there’s something big on her horizon. I can feel it. And there’s nothing we can do but watch and hope. She’ll come around, Luke. And then you’ll have that moment.”

“I hope you’re right,” he laid his hand over hers. “And I certainly hope you’re right about this whole plan we’ve put together.”

“Can’t you feel it?” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and laid the question before the Force. He received no definite confirmation, but the feeling was positive. “It seems right,” he agreed. “But Borsk is going to want our heads before this is over.”

“Let him try,” she growled.

He grinned at her customary panache. “I just hope I’m as popular as you all seem to think.”

“You’re the most documented man in history,” she scoffed. “There’s more holodramas out there on the life of Luke Skywalker than sand on Tatooine.”

“Have you been to Tatooine?” he quirked a brow.

“You know what mean,” she punched his shoulder playfully.

“But what about Parck and Nirauan? You think they’ll bite?” he continued.

“I think between Wedge and Jaina, we’re coming dangerously close to breaking Jag Fel,” Mara concluded with an air of finality.

“How do you figure? He and Jaina snapped at each other all evening and he looked really uncomfortable around Wedge.”

“Exactly,” she nodded. “Am I the only one here who remembers the first ten years of our relationship?”

“You mean the part where you tried to kill me? And then eventually settled for verbal assault?”

“That’s the part,” she grinned. “Remind you of anyone?”

“Oh,” he frowned. “Oh. Wait. No, not Jaina. She’s not old enough.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” she shook her head. “And I know my apprentice.”

He sidestepped the uncomfortable notion about his niece and said, “That doesn’t explain Wedge.”

“The kid is a Fel, remember?” she shrugged. “Doubtful that he’s very comfortable showing emotion. But knowing Wedge, he’s not going to be put off easy. He hasn’t seen Syal in years. Jag’s going to be just another member of the Antilles family in no time.”

Luke rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “What are they going to do with him until then?”

“I think they convinced Jaina to let him out of the binders,” Mara told him. “He’s going to bunk with Jacen and Anakin until then, just to make sure.”

“That should be interesting,” Luke rolled his eyes.

“No doubt,” she agreed wryly. Then she stood with a yawn, still holding his hand in hers. “Come on, farmboy, I think it’s time for us to go to bed.” She followed the phrase with a suggestive wiggling of her eyebrows.

His smiled broadened. “Lead the way.”

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• Part of the Star Wars fanfiction Heritage

Heritage Chapter 10| Chapter 11| Chapter 12| Chapter 13| Chapter 14| Chapter 15| Chapter 16| Chapter 17| Chapter 18| Chapter 19