Chapter Eighty-Two: Sure
On a few occasions, when they lived on Alderaan during the winter, Breha packed everyone up and took them to her favorite retreat. A plateau in the mountains with a beautiful cabin villa, sloping hills of snow, and a frozen-over lake. While there, she forgot as many of her queenly duties as she responsibly could and spent days doing activities that Ahsoka had only ever seen on the holonet.
Skiing was one of Breha's favorites. And Breha had taken great amusement watching Ahsoka try to get the hang of the sport. Ahsoka's attempts always ended in spectacular disaster, and Breha had never stopped teasing her about losing all that Jedi grace when she got on a pair of skis. Despite Ahsoka's embarrassment at her uncharacteristic lack of coordination on the devices and her complaining about it, every time they'd gone, she'd dragged herself up the slope to accompany her friend. Besides, Ahsoka had taken to ice skating on the frozen lake with a lot more grace. Breha, on the other hand, had never been able to get the hang of the activity. So the teasing always evened out in the end.
The thing Ahsoka enjoyed the most, though, was when they'd gather around the fireplace with hot chocolate. The children always fell asleep in front of the warm fire quickly, exhausted from the day's activities. Breha, never able to totally stop thinking about Alderaan and her people for long, would talk about initiatives she had planned to serve her people. When he was present, Bail would give his opinions, and every now and then, Ahsoka would chime in. Or they'd play some adults-only holo card or board game.
It always made Ahsoka feel like she was sixteen again, during the Clone War. While some of her worst memories were during that time, so too were some of her best. She vividly remembered nights sitting around a fire with Vader and Obi-wan and the 501st and the 212th while in between campaigns or during the long periods of waiting. Laughs, sarcastic remarks, teasing, crude jokes, curled up against Vader when it got too cold for her to stand. She'd felt so safe during those times despite all the danger around them.
So Ahsoka wasn't surprised that when her world lightened, she was sitting in her favorite corner of the couch in front of the fire at the cabin villa with a wool blanket over her. She was, however, surprised to see Breha in the other corner. Somehow she looked as beautiful and regal as she always did. Even with her dark hair tumbling down her back and falling into her face even despite pushing it behind her ear. Even in just a thin nightgown with a robe pulled over it.
"Breha."
"Hello, Ahsoka," Breha said. Her smile was big and met her eyes. "It's been a while."
Ahsoka was confused at first, not exactly sure what that meant. It depended on what she had been doing. On instinct, she reached out into the Force only to find it everywhere and nowhere. However, she did get her answer. The memory of fighting Sidious with Vader at her side. The ever-increasing abdomen pain that she just ignored. Vader allowing himself to be consumed by untold depths of the dark side, asking her to help him come back but not needing it in the end. Because somehow, he was a true master of the dark side. And then she'd felt another sharp pain, the call of her name, and nothing.
Oh.
"I'm dead."
Breha rolled her eyes. "You always were so dramatic. But no. You're not dead."
"But you're dead."
Breha sighed. "The word for those who have moved on from the physical plane is such a harsh word in Basic. But yes. That's true."
Ahsoka frowned but decided to just go with this for now. She'd seen, experienced, and heard of a lot of weird things over the course of her life. This didn't even make the top five weird. All those things had something to do with one Anakin Skywalker. But just because she was going with it didn't mean she didn't have questions—many of them.
"So, where are we?"
"You have just temporarily been brought to a plane that transcends the physical world and the limitations of physical bodies while your own body recovers," Breha replied.
"Okay…" Ahsoka paused. "Is this real, or is this my comatose brain giving me weird dreams?"
"You once told me that the Jedi believe that when a person dies, they return to the Force. Alderaanians say that we return back to Mother Alderaan. I always thought they were the same thing. So what do you think?"
Ahsoka thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Or maybe not a trick, but piecing together a bunch of fond memories. Yet, Ahsoka didn't even think her brain could come up with such a perfect recreation of her dear friend, right down to the small mole next to the woman's lip. Ahsoka didn't have the energy to ponder over such an existential question, though. So she put whether this was real or a memory out her mind and decided to let whatever it was be for now.
She shifted the blankets on her and crossed to the other side of the couch. She rested her arms in the woman's lap and then laid her head down with her face in the woman's stomach.
"I miss you, Breha."
The woman ran a soothing hand over the side of her montrals, something Ahsoka allowed few people to do in her life.
"I know. But as much as it would bring me joy, you can't stay here with me. The galaxy awaits you. The war may be over, and Palpatine gone, but people still need you."
"I'm not sure they do. Not as much as you say they do anyway."
She'd had a vision of her death after all. She'd been prepared to embrace her death. It was only by some miracle or action that she wasn't aware of that she'd circumvented it.
"Is this about your vision?" Breha asked.
Ahsoka started to ask how the woman knew about that, but well... Whatever this was, it wasn't a stretch that Breha knew about that.
"Somewhat?"
"On Alderaan, every future ruler is faced with a vision before they make their ascension to the throne. They aren't visions of the future. Not complete ones anyway. They are tests of character."
"And how's that?"
"They test you by asking you to confront your fears and sacrifice the things you cherish the most. Only by showing the willingness to do what is hardest do Alderaan rulers prove they are worthy to rule. You don't fear death. I fussed at you enough about your reckless stunts to know that," Breha said, poking Ahsoka in the side. "But you do fear leaving behind the people who you believe love and need you the most. Your children. Vader." Breha said Vader's name in that pointed tone that she always said his name. "By being willing to leave them behind to do something that would help them more than the hurt it would cause, that would help the galaxy despite hurting the people you cared for the most, you proved that you were worthy."
"Worthy of what?" Ahsoka asked.
Breha smirked. "You'll just have to wake up and see."
"I don't feel worthy. I feel like… I feel selfish. I know what Vader's done to people. I know they'll be angry about our relationship. All facets of it," Ahsoka said with a sigh.
She imagined she might be forgiven for being savvy enough to get him on her side. Still, many people would have a lot to say about sleeping with the man and having his child during the war. And for good reason. Goodness knew she'd have a lot of questions if one of her top generals or commanders came to her with this kind of thing. Questions about whether such a relationship put people in danger. Questions about their true intentions. Their loyalties.
"Do you think I did the right thing? With Vader. Be honest," Ahsoka added. She didn't have to, though. Breha had always been honest with her thoughts about everything. Not just Vader.
"At one point, I would have said I don't know. I probably would have leaned toward no. But now that I've had a chance to watch you both, I've realized that he is the harsh Alderaan winter, and you are the unyielding mountain that will not bow to the storm. Together, you create the rivers that help sustain our beautiful home."
Ahsoka laughed. "You would have been a great Jedi. That sounds like some proverbial stang they'd say."
"Well, I heard they were pretty wise."
"About some things, Breha. About some things," Ahsoka muttered as she started to close her eyes.
"Oh, no! You don't get to leave me yet," Breha declared. "I know for a fact you fell into bed with that man. You owe me details."
"Breha."
"Nope. You've got a long life ahead of you. I can't wait that long for the juicy details. You promised!"
Ahsoka hadn't promised anything, but she figured she could indulge the woman and sat up. She took a cup of hot chocolate that had appeared in the woman's hands before divulging the details Breha so craved. When she was done with that, she told Breha how Winter was doing ("She's going to make a wonderful queen when she turns nineteen."), how her pregnancy went ("You need better subordinate officers if they didn't notice you were pregnant, even if you were trying to hide it," she'd said, unimpressed.), the birth ("Test or not, Ahsoka Tano, I would never let you hear the end of it for doing something so recklessly stupid if I could. And don't tell me about saving the galaxy. It still stands."), and everything else she hadn't gotten the chance to tell the woman in the last year.
By the time she was done, both she and Breha were sitting curled up in the middle of the couch facing each other. Eyes heavy with sleep, Ahsoka placed a hand on Breha's cheek and said, "You won't be here when I wake up. Will you?"
"Quite the contrary. You won't be here when you wake up," Breha said, placing her own hand on Ahsoka's face. Breha smiled. "Send Winter and Bail my love. Tell them that I'm with Mother Alderaan, and we shall be reunited one day."
Ahsoka didn't answer, but she got the feeling Breha didn't expect her to as she closed her eyes. Or rather, the reality around her darkened, and her body began to feel achy. Then she was lying on what felt like a soft, comfortable bed. Certainly more comfortable than the ones she'd been sleeping in for the last year, including at the Rebellion Base.
Though she'd clearly been resting, she still felt tired. Like she needed a few days to recuperate. On instinct, she went through the motions she was taught to go through during the war when waking from unconsciousness. First, make sure all your limbs were there. Then figure out what she could feel. The soft bed. A weight sitting just next to her. With that done, she opened her eyes to assess where she was.
The first thing she saw was Vader sitting next to her, carefully watching her wake.
"Vader," was the first thing she said in greeting.
"Ahsoka," he replied.
He looked… like himself. Dark blond hair in neat disarray, wearing attire that was clearly based on the suit but not the suit and without a mask and helmet or all the clunky armor. And he looked exhausted. She could only imagine the chaos he was dealing with now that Palpatine was dead.
Ahsoka frowned at that.
Palpatine was dead. They had won. And she'd collapsed afterward. Before she could tell him about Mé. Before she could tell him that Luke, Leia, and Winter were on-planet taking care of said newborn.
"How long has it been?" she asked first. There might not be anything to panic about yet.
"Since what?" Vader asked.
Ahsoka frowned but understood why he asked. He wanted to make sure she remembered.
"Since you killed Palpatine and I collapsed. I think," Ahsoka said, unsure. She could be missing something.
"A little over a week."
Kriff.
Ahsoka hurried to try to sit herself up, but Vader held a hand to her chest.
"You just woke up from sedation."
"Yeah. And except for feeling like I got hit by a speeder, I'm fine."
"I'm not sure on what planet that's fine."
"It's an improvement from before. I felt like I'd gotten hit by a star destroyer before," Ahsoka said, falling into the easy banter she always fell into with Vader. Then she remembered why she felt that way. She tried to swat Vader's hand away. But he was unyielding. "Vader, I… The thing I needed to tell you. I…"
"If this is you telling me that you were pregnant, gave birth right before you confronted Palpatine, and left our newborn daughter with the twins and Winter in a docking bay levels below Imperial City, I discovered all that already," he said, sparing her the trouble. "They're safe. Mé's right next to us, in fact."
Ahsoka almost sat up to see for herself, more than anything wanting to take the baby into her arms that she thought she'd never get to hold again. But she resisted the urge. Mé was fine for now. Ahsoka needed to deal with this first.
Vader's feelings were being carefully restrained by him in the Force, kept away from their warm bond. After years of hiding all his weakness and constantly being aware of his emotions to protect them from Sidious, perhaps it was time to let him let some of that restraint go.
"Go ahead. Lay it on me. Might as well get this over with," Ahsoka said.
When he didn't immediately answer, she sent something like resigned reassurance across the bond, bracing herself for Vader's infamous temper. What she got wasn't anger. Not totally. It was there but in the midst of a lot more complicated feelings. Sadness. Hurt. Something that felt like the beginning of betrayal. Somehow, that was worse than if he was just angry at her.
"You're not angry?"
He gave her a pointed look, allowing the anger she sensed to project and briefly overtake his other feelings.
"Oh, I'm plenty angry at you," he assured her. Then he sighed as he brought the anger back under his control. "But that's not going to do either of us any good right now. I just want to know why you didn't tell me." Before Ahsoka could answer that, he continued, "Actually, I already know the answer to that. I get it. I don't have a great track record when it comes to these things. And I know you don't exactly trust me. But more importantly, why didn't you tell anyone else? What in Sith hell was going through your head when you decided to come here, knowing you were almost due, give birth by yourself in a ship, and then come to fight Palpatine? Do you know all the things that could have gone wrong? All the things that almost did go wrong?"
There was a lot in that to answer, but Ahsoka latched onto one particular thing and blurted out without thinking, "I trust you! What gave you the idea that I didn't?"
Ahsoka knew it was a stupid question before he pressed the memories against her mind of her explicitly saying so or him saying so and her not contradicting him.
"Right. Because that used to be true," Ahsoka said as she began to sit up again.
This time Vader let her, assisting her by propping pillows up behind her to support her.
"Used to be?" Vader asked when she was settled.
Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Vader, all things considered with our history, you think I would have been comfortable sleeping with you if I didn't think I could trust you?"
"Wouldn't be the first relationship with a woman I'd been involved in built on lies, secrets, and mistrust. Even if we denied it."
"Idiot," Ahsoka muttered as she reached over and grabbed his arm to pull him closer to her.
He caught himself before he could fall on her.
"Always with the name-calling."
Ahsoka ignored him and said, "I trust you. I trust you with everything precious to me. If I didn't, I would have been a lot less willing to leave our children behind to fight next to you while expecting to meet my death." She cupped his face with her hand. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put you in danger."
"So to protect me. That's no better."
"No. I… I've been very unfair to you in the past."
"Unfair. You haven't—"
"I let you apologize to me. Let me do the same, okay?" When he'd closed his mouth, she continued, "You've always been so magnificent to me. Since I walked off that ship on Christophsis and laid eyes on you. And the reason I was so angry with you was that you shattered all my expectations of you. Expectations that you didn't ask for and that weren't fair. And even when they were fair, they were expectations that were unfair to ask you to bear alone. Somehow, over all these years, you'd managed to hide your true plans, the twins, and me from Sidious. Funneled resources to the Rebellion behind his back. Ran his war while using it to our advantage to get allies in place.
"All while what you really wanted was just to have your family with you. All the while, worried not just for our safety but that you would let me down again. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for it. But it was unfair to ask you to carry all that alone. So not telling you about Mé… it wasn't that I didn't trust you, but that I didn't want you to break beneath the burden and stress of yet another secret or expectation to live up to. To make you even more vulnerable to Sidious than you already were. Can you forgive me for that, my heart?"
He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. Then he took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth. "There's nothing to forgive, my heart."
Still, Ahsoka felt a gentle wave of appreciation and gratitude across their bond. For recognizing his burdens. For recognizing his own sacrifices. For recognizing his attempts to make things right. Despite all his faults and failures.
Cries from Ahsoka's left immediately caught their attention. With speed Ahsoka usually only saw Vader display on the battlefield, he made his way around the bed and to the bassinet. He reached in and lifted Mé out, gently rocking and hushing her to soothe her cries. For a moment, Ahsoka wasn't sure how to reconcile this man in front of her, a doting, caring father, with the man she knew would kill without hesitation or losing sleep over it. Then again, duplicitous natures weren't just reserved for Vader, Ahsoka supposed. It was just incredibly stark with him.
When she didn't stop her whining, arms flailing as she geared up for the full-blown shrill cries Ahsoka remembered from when Luke and Leia were this age, Vader set her into the crook of his left arm.
"It's about time for your next bottle. Isn't it?"
"Give her here. I'll do it."
Vader looked at her and said, "You just woke up. Your body needs to finish healing."
"I've been asleep for a week. I'm fine. Besides, I'm made for this, even when I'm tired and still healing. People who just gave birth do it all over the galaxy," Ahsoka insisted.
Vader still looked like he wanted to argue.
Ahsoka twisted her lips. "Vader, give me my baby, right now."
He relented, sitting back on the edge of the bed and handing Mé over to her.
The gown she wore wasn't at all conducive to breastfeeding. Seeing her struggle with it, Vader helped her take off the offending item and readjusted the blankets to keep her warm. Once she'd resettled, Ahsoka managed to get Mé to latch on, and instantly, the girl's frustrated whining and squirming seized. Something about it suddenly made this real. It was real before. But before, she'd been sure her days were numbered. Desperately wanting to raise this child. Desperately wanting her not to be raised in a galaxy under a government that would hunt and kill her for her abilities. But never daring to hope she'd be able to have both.
And finally, after years of being afraid that Palpatine was lurking just over her shoulder ready to ruin everything, after years of him actually ruining everything, Ahsoka felt she could breathe. It was overwhelming. However, it wasn't only her own emotions. Something was coming from Vader. Something like he was feeling a myriad of emotions and wasn't sure which to settle on.
She looked up to ask him what the problem was but then found herself in his arms. He was conscious of Mé, though, holding Ahsoka in a way to not disturb her.
"I almost lost you," he said, shaky voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you were going to die. And I didn't know what I was going to do afterward."
Because he already knew what not to do. He already knew that to lash out at the galaxy would have been to tarnish her memory the way he'd help to tarnish Padmé's. Ahsoka knew he wasn't admitting that anytime soon, though. If ever.
"Of course, I wasn't going anywhere." Because even though she'd thought she was going to die before, it seemed so clear in hindsight that the Force had a lot more for them to do. That they would always be better as a team. "Remember? You're stuck with me, Skyguy."
That should have soothed him. Should have lightened the mood. But instead, Vader let her go and pulled back to look at her with a solemn, contemplative expression.
"What?" Ahsoka asked.
"During the Clone War, after your trial. You wanted to leave the Order. But I stopped you. I made you stay."
"You didn't make me do anything," Ahsoka replied, not exactly sure where he was going with this.
"Either way, if I hadn't convinced you to stay, you would have left. It was selfish of me to ask that of you, knowing that's not what you wanted. Especially given how much you struggled afterward. I know what it's like to be asked to put your own wellbeing and health aside for the sake of people who probably didn't even deserve it. To do everything people asked of you, and it still not being enough. But I…" Vader sighed, running a hand over his face.
"You have control issues."
Vader glared. "Not how I would have put it."
"But, it's true."
"Regardless, I should have let you make the choice to leave if that's what you wanted."
Truthfully, after a decade past, Ahsoka wasn't sure what she'd wanted back then. Hindsight had a way of contextualizing things. She had wanted to leave. That much was certain. But she'd also wanted to stay. She had been just as afraid at the prospect of leaving the only home she'd known as she had been of staying after such a betrayal. She'd almost made the choice right there in front of the High Council. As they gave her their empty platitudes and offered to make her a knight as compensation. So she'd overlook their betrayal. But she'd been tired after a long couple of weeks and just wanted somewhere to rest and think things through without being in the middle of a crisis. It wasn't a luxury she'd gotten often. For once, she'd taken it.
"What's done is done," Ahsoka said with a shrug. "No use dwelling on it."
"That is true," Vader agreed. "But it doesn't mean I have to make the same mistake."
Ahsoka furrowed her brow at that.
"You told me that the only reason you stay and deal with this political and social mess of a galaxy is for me. Because I couldn't leave it alone."
When Ahsoka said that, she'd been trying to stop him from jumping headfirst into a fight with Palpatine that they weren't ready to have. She guessed that didn't make it any less true.
"But Palpatine's gone now. You don't have to stay. You don't owe the galaxy anything. You can leave everyone else to duke out what to do with the Empire now. Go map the Unknown Regions and Wild Space. Take the children with you. I… I'd still have to make sure Palpatine doesn't have any more contingencies, but then I can catch up with you. Leave it all behind," he suggested.
Vader pressed his sincerity upon the bond to prove he meant it.
Ahsoka couldn't say that it wasn't tempting. She'd been fighting for half her life. It would be nice to leave it all behind and do whatever she wanted. To go wherever she wanted without having to worry about getting back to anything. She also knew she wouldn't be able to in good conscience. Neither would Vader. The wondering would eventually drive them right back here. They were too close to the center of it all to have the luxury of leaving it all behind.
"Sounds nice. But I honestly think I'd miss all this. It's the only thing I know. Besides, knowing us, we'd discover new planets and end up starting a new Empire or Republic or something anyway," Ahsoka joked.
That got a laugh out of Vader. Not a cruel or scornful one. Just a simple one to show he was amused. She hadn't heard that from him in a long time.
Then he asked, "Are you sure?"
A simple question. Yet Ahsoka got the feeling that it was more than that. His way of asking if this was what she really wanted. If she knew what she was signing up for. And that even if she didn't, that she'd be willing to put up with whatever within reason resulted from this choice. A challenge even. And in nearly fourteen years of knowing him, she'd never backed down from one of those. She didn't plan to start now.
"I'm sure," Ahsoka affirmed before looking back down at Mé, who was no longer sucking but just staring up at her. When she tried to move Mé away, she began to cry. When Ahsoka put her back, she settled right back to staring up at Ahsoka without sucking.
Ahsoka sighed. "You can't just sit there and stare up at me, Mé Breha Skywalker."
"It's a good view," Vader said, running a gloved hand over the girl's white hair. "Speaking of that. We need to talk about her name."
"It's already decided. I'm not changing my mind."
"It's not decided. There's no paperwork yet," Vader said. "You named her after your ex-girlfriend."
"To be fair, it's spelled differently."
"Which brings me to my next point. You named her after my dead wife?"
"She was my friend. And, also, to be fair, it's just the end of her name."
"Fine. But Skywalker? I thought your culture gave their children their mother's last names."
"They do. But when have either of us ever cared about tradition?"
They halfheartedly went back and forth over it for a while before Vader conceded on the grounds that she gave birth by herself in a ship; she got to name the baby whatever she wanted. By that time, Mé was burped, changed, and lying asleep in Ahsoka's arms. Vader also remembered that he'd left Bail Organa in the public sitting area with Winter.
Despite Vader's insistence otherwise, Ahsoka passed Mé to him while she put on a white and silver silk kaftan that cinched at the waist. Comfortable but presentable. The only reason she cared that much was to respect Bail's modest core world sensibilities. Otherwise, she just would have had Vader bring him into the room.
Honestly. Humans. She'd lived with the man and his wife for seven years. Bail was practically family.
Ahsoka contemplated leaving Mé. But not only did she not want to let the baby out her sight, she also knew it was time to come totally clean. That meant not hiding the fact that in addition to Vader being her informant and coconspirator, he'd become her lover, and they'd had a child. That was going to be a tense and awkward conversation with a lot of people, especially with High Command. But Ahsoka hadn't helped kill a tyrant only to continue to be a slave to the secrets said tyrant had forced her to necessarily keep.
They passed by the twins' room on the way, but both had fallen asleep, something Vader said they'd been randomly doing in the middle of the day as of late. Ahsoka wasn't surprised. It had been an exhausting few months—an exhausting few days.
Bail noticed as soon as Ahsoka stepped into the room with Mé lying across her arm and Vader standing next to her.
"Ahsoka," he said with more than a little awe and confusion in his tone.
"Aunt 'Soka! You're awake," Winter said, running across the room to hug her.
"It's good to see you too, princess. Do you mind giving us a minute to talk with your father?"
Winter seemed reluctant, but Bail cut in. "I'm not going anywhere, my darling."
Reassured, for now, Winter disappeared behind them. Once Ahsoka sensed the girl's cheerful presence was gone, she turned to Bail with a tired smile.
"We have a lot to talk about, my friend."
AN: 1) I'm going to pre-empt this question before it's even asked. I know a lot of you are going to be like, why in the memory/dream/otherworld plane did Ahsoka see Breha and not Padmé? A lot of reasons, but mostly because Ahsoka has moved on from Padmé. She'll always miss her, but she's accepted that Padmé's not there and has long stopped caring about whether she'd approve of things. But Breha is recent and with everything going on, Ahsoka hasn't had to sit with her death for long and she's not quite over it yet. Also, things change, people move on, and what Pamé would have done or thought about all this doesn't matter because, as has been a bit of a theme in this story, they have to keep living for the living.
2) Also, the question came up why Ahsoka specifically didn't tell anyone she was pregnant. There was no room to really fit it into this chapter outright so I will tell you. The reason boils down to security and trust. Ahsoka still has very deeply engrained trust issues even if she's pretty much gotten over that with Vader. Part of the reason she was so effective in the Rebellion is that people saw her as almost invincible. Whether or not that was true, it likely effectively detered anyone that might have had ill will to her or spies in the Rebellion. To announce the pregnancy was to announce that vulnerability (note that she says her balance was off, she couldn't use her lightsaber, and she was tiring easily). And she was not sure who might take advantage of that. So she didn't say anything. I implied that she didn't plan on hiding Mé when she was born. Just the pregnancy. I try not to spell everything out in works. I do address the things that need to be addressed while also assuming that my readers can and want to read between the lines and figure some things out. But... I got enough questions about it that I decided to answer this one outright.
3) Look at Vader. Learning to let go. He's glad Ahsoka turned down the out he gave her, but the fact that he even offered it and would have dealt with it. He's sorting out his priorities... or learning to anyway.
Hope you enjoyed. Review, favorite, and follow. I appreciate the support and your insights.
