A/N: This story is the first of a loose series of one-shots I started writing a while ago about Jacen's growing-up years. The name Jacen means "healer", and so I decided to explore a the way little Jacen touches the lives of his family and friends. More stories will be forthcoming, though I can't promise a time frame.

Hera knows she has to go to Ryloth eventually, but she's still uneasy about the whole idea even as she double-checks the Ghost's hyperspace coordinates. It would be so easy to switch them somewhere else. For a moment she considers again going to Lothal to see Sabine, but stops herself. Might as well get this over with, she tells herself as she pushes the lever.

As the white stars turn into blue streaks, Jacen snuggles up against her chest, yawns, and closes his eyes. She yawns herself, and stares aimlessly into hyperspace, blinking to try and stay awake. Gods, I wish Kanan were here. She tries not to dwell on his absence too much but sometimes it's just too kriffing hard. The tears fall slowly at first, then more rapidly, until she's nearly sobbing, her breaths deep and quick, her lips trembling.

Eventually, she's jerked back into the present by Jacen's tiny, hungry whimpering. Mechanically, she double checks the autopilot, prepares some milk, feeds him, burps him, and settles him down in his cradle for another, hopefully longer, nap.

As she settles back into the pilot's seat, Chopper whirrs some slightly derogatory remark about helpless organic younglings, but Hera doesn't even bother responding. Instead, she leans back and gazes at the stars once again, and tries to think of how in the galaxy she's going to tell her father about Jacen.

It's evening when they finally land on Ryloth, and Hera comms Cham as soon as they get there. "Father, I was wondering if I could come visit tonight?"

"Hera?" He asks. "Where are you? What's going on?"

"I'm here on Ryloth."

"I didn't hear from you after Yavin-I thought you didn't make it."

"Couldn't comm, didn't have a secure channel for a while." It's the truth, mostly. She realizes guiltily that she hadn't even thought of letting him know she was okay; only thought about comming him to tell him about Jacen before deciding that visiting might make things a little easier. Or, rather, realizing that visiting would force him to actually listen to what she has to say rather than disowning her without hearing the full story.

"I don't see why not." Cham's tone is a little more amicable after her explanation. "Have anyone with you?"

"Just me."

"You need a place to stay-"

"No, the Ghost will do. I'll only be here til tomorrow."

"Well, then, how about dinner?"

"Okay. See you in…" Hera calculates the amount of time it'll take her to feed and change Jacen, and walk to the house. "An hour or so?"

He agrees, and shuts off the comm abruptly.

Hera speeds through mothering Jacen, all the while distracted and distressed. She puts on a tiny bit of makeup to hide her puffy eyes, slips Jacen his cozy little wrap, and grabs a small satchel packed with milk and diapers. Then she sets off on the long walk home.

When they finally arrive, Cham's greeting is almost friendly.

"Hera." He opens the door, lekku twisted in a welcoming gesture.

"Father." She twitches her lekku in similar fashion, and steps inside.

Jacen shifts a little in his wrap and opens his eyes just a twitch, letting out a tiny mewing noise. Cham notices, and glances down her chest, sighing.

"You said you didn't bring anyone along this time." He scowls, and his lekku grow stiff. "What is this, another street orphan?"

She feels her cheeks flush as her brain scrambles to find the right words. Her Ryl accent creeps back into her voice as she corrects him. "No. He's my son."

"Your...son?" His voice is cold, harsh. "But-but he's human!"

"Half-human." She reaches up and runs her fingers along the green fuzz on the top of Jacen's head, taking a deep breath and trying to steady her shaky legs.

"You mean-"

"Hybrids come in many different forms."

Cham sighs again, and crosses his arms lightly. "Who's the father?"

"Kanan."

Cham's quiet now, and she struggles to read his reaction, but he's a blank slate, lekku, eyes, and body betray little emotion, only a vague thoughtfulness. And, perhaps, a bit of sorrow, no doubt at the realization that his grandchild will never know his father.

"Do you-want to hold him?" She finally asks, twitching uncomfortably.

At this offer, Cham seems to soften, and he reaches out slightly. Hera lifts Jacen and gently hands him to her father. Cham's posture goes from rigid to relaxed and his lekku move out of their defensive position. Jacen blinks up at his grandfather, and Cham's lips twitch upwards in a slight, hesitant smile.

"He's so tiny." He says at last. "What's his name?"

"Jacen. Jacen Syndulla."

Cham looks over at her, first in surprise, and then a sad smile spreads across his face. Hera thinks she sees a single tear trickle down his face. "You named him after your brother?"

Hera nods. Warm, salty tears course down her own cheek, and her throat grows tight as the memories of her mother and brother overwhelm her.

Finally, she chokes out, "Is that. . .I mean, do you mind? I wasn't sure what you would think but it seemed like a good way to honor him."

Cham steps forward and embraces Hera with his free arm.

"It's. . .it's wonderful, Hera."

For a long moment, there's no sound except for their tears and Jacen's faint snoring. And then Cham adds, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I know I've been too hard on you ever since you left Ryloth. . .can you, would you, forgive me?"

Hera nods, and chokes out, "Yes, father."

She knows it'll be a long time before they'll be fully reconciled, but this is an important step. And as she snuggles Jacen late that night, she kisses his forehead lightly, and marvels at how much love and joy and hope a tiny babe can provide.

"Good night, my little miracle."