Jaina was wide-awake. Though it was early in the morning, nothing was going to convince her of sleep. She had to practically force shove Jag back to the apartment. After a few days of sitting in bed seeing family and friends, being as protective as ever, Jaina had the silence and calmness she deserved.
She watched curiously as the little figure stirred in her arms. Though the lighting was dark, she could still make out the little face as anxious as her own. His constant squirming had been odd at first, but when she thought about it nothing was different. I've carried you inside me for nine long months, and then hours of labor. This is easy.
A small smile crept over her face as he clenched and unclenched his little fists. He had her brandy eyes, and her father's lips, therefore inheriting her family's famous lopsided grin. She softly stroked his dark hair, paying close attention to the white lock running along his right temple. So small, so perfect.
Yet she had seen the innocent corrupted before. A strong emotion flooded her heart. Finally realizing the depth of Mara's sacrifice. Knowing she would make the same one if it came down to the final choice. No one remotely dangerous would breath on him with the Sword of the Jedi around. Watch yourself Jaina, you've made those kinds of promises before. No, Jaina would not be like her parents. Out living two of their three children and raising the granddaughter they never knew about. Neither Jaina nor Jag would let that happen. Jaina kissed her son on the forehead, allowing herself a brief moment to touch his bright shining force presence. Her little beacon of hope.