Kessel Run Week Seven Challenge: Write a story between 100 and 1,000 words that is entirely introspection. No spoken dialogue, no action.

Fatherhood (Ronan and Mara Jade, 17 BBY)

It was strange, Ronan thought as he sat in the rocking chair beside the bedroom window, holding their daughter as Nadira slept, how being a father changed everything.

He'd known it would, of course. But that intellectual knowledge was nothing more than the vaguest shadow of premonition compared to the rush of emotion when Mara was born, when he held her for the first time, when he suddenly understood the description he'd once heard of parenthood, that it was to forever have your heart go walking around outside your body.

Right now, being a parent was relatively—well, not easy, exactly, but straightforward. Mara was still tiny and helpless and the most important thing was simply to keep her warm and dry and fed and loved. Ronan knew that it wouldn't stay that simple for long.

How he wished his own parents were still alive to seek guidance from. Nadira's parents were, true, and he was profoundly grateful, but he wished that he could have asked his own father how he'd felt at this point in life, and how he'd managed to always be so calm and steady. He wished he could ask his mother how exactly it was that she'd created the warm and loving environment Ronan remembered growing up in. He and Nadira were very young themselves to take on the raising of a child, and as incredibly happy as he was, there was an edge of fear as well. He didn't really know what he was doing, and Mara deserved the best.

Mara. A name that had no familial significance, nor was chosen for any greater meaning—a pretty, soft-sounding name that rolled easily off the tongue. They had both liked it, and it created a nice rhythm with the surname Jade. Nadira's father, detail-oriented as always, had looked the name up and pointed out that it meant "bitter." Nadira had only shrugged. "Bitter isn't always bad. Good caf and dark chocolate are both bitter. Bitter is strong and distinctive. And," she'd added privately to Ronan later, "it's a pretty name, and I like it."

So Mara she had become, for no deeper reason than that it felt right, and now it was hard to remember why any of the other names they'd discussed had ever been in contention. Of course she was Mara, had always been Mara, could never be anyone else.

And Mara deserved the very best. Not just now, when giving her his best was as easy as this, as easy as changing a diaper and holding her close and rocking her back to sleep in the middle of the night. She deserved the best always, in all things, and how was he going to do that? How would he know how to make her feel safe and secure, and that she could always come to him with any concern? How would he teach her to be strong and kind and to always try to do the right thing? How could he help her to neither be discouraged by setbacks nor overconfident in success? How was he supposed to know how to fix things ranging from scraped knees to broken hearts?

The prospect was terrifying and exhilarating and he hoped so, so much that he was up to the challenge, and knew that nothing mattered as much as this, as doing everything he could to make sure his little family was happy and secure and that Mara had room to grow into whoever she was meant to be, to achieve all the potential he was sure she had.

Even now, as tiny as she was, he could see her personality beginning to develop. Much to his delight, she had begun to smile when spoken to, a big toothless smile that melted his heart. She was so aware, turning toward every sound and making obvious efforts to focus on the faces above her, and he'd swear that yesterday she'd tried to lift herself into a crawling position.

Nadira's mother had been gently amused; at not quite two months, Mara was still a long way from that milestone. Ronan knew that, and he knew that she couldn't have crawled, of course—she hadn't quite managed to lift her own head yet, after all. But her flailing of limbs had already begun to have an air of purpose to it, and he was sure it wasn't merely his own partiality behind the determination he was beginning to associate with Mara. She was bright and strong-willed, and if she decided that she wanted to crawl early, he had no doubt that she'd manage to do exactly that.

But for now she nestled sleepily in his arms, gazing at him through half-closed eyes as they rocked, his sweet, perfect baby girl, and all those challenges were in the future. Right now all that mattered was loving her.

And that, Ronan could do.