FLASHBACK: FOR WANT OF A MOTHER

This chapter takes place four years before Dalla's betrothal, directly after the crash that killed Lana Blackwell. Those of you who have read my other works are familiar with the fountain of love and kindness (and occasionally, raw terror) that is Mina Bonteri. She and Dane were pillars of support during Shara's divorce, and they answer the call yet again during the Blackwells' time of need.

This chapter is dedicated to Lydia, the reigning champion of belting out Disney lyrics, and my choir teacher who spent more time with her students than her own family during the Christmas season - LS

...

The Polaris careens into harbor so fast Dalla's almost certain they're going to wreck again. But then again maybe she's only thinking that because they've just been in a wreck, or because she still can't see straight with the throbbing in her head.

Uncle Jamos smiles down at her and lifts her up a little more. He can still carry her even if she is thirteen years old. "Almost there, Chirn Bait. I think I can see your aunt already."

"Where?"

"Don't try to look," he says hurriedly. "Stay where you are and we'll be there in a minute."

"Jamos, what's happening? Is she okay?" For once her father's voice wavers instead of ringing.

"She's fine. I just told her we were almost home." Jamos turns around so Marlon can see Dalla in his arms. "How are the boys?"

Does he have to ask? Thias stands by Marlon's side like a tin soldier, swallowed by a sailor's coat. Cade's clutching Marlon's leg and sobbing he wants his Mom.

The others start to crowd around the gangplank, those helping the wounded jockeying to the front. Jamos nearly twitches from restlessness while they dock and finally lower the gangplank. Two of his crew carry a sailor with a mangled leg down first and then he's down like a shot, forgetting all about keeping her head still in his rush to get on dry land.

As soon as they're off the docks Jamos searches the crowd for Shara while he rushes for the Hold. "She has to be around here somewhere. Probably found your father first," he looks around. "They'll meet us back at the Hold."

"Captain Jamos!" A heavyset woman muscles her way through the crowd. It's Maris, the pub owner who's noticeably stopped tasting the brew. "Captain Jamos, my husband. Have you seen him?"

Jamos stutters with rare speechlessness but the salt gods shine down on him in the form of another woman. Shara shoves her way to Maris' side and lays one hand on her shoulder and the other on the pubkeep's abdomen. "I'm sure Ness is just on the ship waiting for the wounded to get off first, Maris. If you wait back with the others he can find you faster than if you're running around. All this stress can't be good for you and your little one."

Maris nods frantically and runs off to get a better view of the ship. Shara turns to Jamos.

"Thank the salt gods." She hugs him and gives him a quick kiss, careful to keep from pressing against Dalla. "How is she?"

"Awake for now," Jamos tilts Dalla so Shara can see her better. "Marlon says it was a lifeboat straight to the head."

Shara pushes Dalla's hair from her face and tries hard to keep her expression even. "Mina and Dane are inside waiting. Where are Marlon and the boys?"

"Still on the ship."

Her voice drops. "Ness?"

Jamos just shakes his head. Shara swallows hard and whispers the hardest one. "Lana?"

He can't move. He can't respond, but the silence is enough of an answer.

They stand frozen until a dark-haired man in a purple cloak rushes up to them and holds out his arms. "I'll take her. Go find the rest of your family and we'll meet you inside"

Shara mouths thank you to the man. "Dalla, this is Dane Bonteri," she says and gestures for Jamos to hand her over. "He's my friend from the south and he's going to take you home. The rest of us will be over very soon."

"You're in good hands," Dane takes her from Jamos and speedwalks toward the Hold. "I have one just about your age back home. We're going to take good care of you." They reach a back door and Dane momentarily blanks. "Your aunt forgot to tell me the door code."

A rose-shaped pin at his collar catches the light. "Bonteri," she mumbles. The sigil and the name finally click in her head.

"Your bannermen, dear." He smiles. "But I don't think that's the code. We really do need to get you inside."

She rattles off the code mostly by force of habit and Dane rushes inside. Dalla almost cries out from the heat - salt gods, she hasn't been warm for a lifetime.

"One more question and then you can rest," Dane promises while her vision threatens to fade away. "Which one of these rooms is yours?"

…

"The cold must have numbed you," Mina Bonteri says and wrings a washcloth over a basin. "No wonder you hardly felt anything in the water."

"Do we have to do this?" Dalla winces when she blots it against her face. "Where's my father?"

"Your father is talking to your uncle," Mina explains. "Right now Shara's drawing a bath for your brother Thias so he can warm up. Cade is asleep with your cousins, so it's just us for now." She wrings out the washcloth again and rust-colored water drips away. "I think we're almost done here."

Good. Gentle as Mina is, every touch to her swollen face hurts. "Okay."

Dane looks up from whatever he's doing across the room. "Mina, did you give her any medications?"

"With a head injury like this? No." Mina drops the washcloth in the basin and sits Dalla up. "She's all done. Are you ready?"

Warning bells go off in Dalla's head. "Ready for what?"

Dane picks up his project: a tray loaded with gauze, adhesive strips, and she doesn't know what else.

Mina bear hugs her from behind before she can move. "Dalla, you have broken bones and we need to set them for you. Dane was trained to do this in the militia. He'll be very gentle, I promise."

"W-what about anesthesia?" she sputters. She doesn't see anything of the sort on Dane's tray.

"We can't risk knocking you out with that head injury. Not with all your healers scrambling to take care of everyone else." Dane explains, snapping on a pair of gloves. He lifts something else off his tray: Dalla's stuffed brylk from when she was a baby. "Your aunt told me his name is Mr. Brylk. Will you hold him for me while I do this?"

Dalla nods and Dane places the stuffy in her hands.

"Good girl." He makes sure she has good hold on the stuffy. "Now until I'm done here, breathe through your mouth."

…

"What's going on in there? What are they doing to Dalla?"

"They're just setting her nose, Marlon. She's okay."

"Then why in the salt gods' names is she screaming? She didn't scream on the water." Marlon furiously pounds on the door. "Dalla!"

Mina smooths Dalla's hair while someone else, Jamos probably, wrestles Marlon away from the door. "Marlon, come back to your room."

"Why won't you let me see my family?" Marlon pleads. "My son is in the tub so I can't see him, my baby boy is asleep so I can't see him, my daughter's injured so I can't see her and my wife -." His voice breaks. "My Lana…"

Mina starts humming into Dalla's ear to drown out the sound of her father's sobs while Dane finishes setting her nose.

…

Her perpetually clean-shaven father has stubble when they finally let him into her room. That jars her more than his whirlwind entrance or poorly concealed grief.

"Hello." He does his best to smile at her and sits on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." She experimentally touches her swollen nose and winces. "They won't let me sleep."

"They have to wake you every hour to check your concussion," Marlon explains. He knits his hands in his lap. "Thias and Cade are alright. I spoke to them a few minutes ago and they're in the living room with your uncle and Portia. If you'd like I can ask Jamos to bring her to see you."

"I don't think the Bonteris want Portia in here slobbering over everything."

"You're probably right," he says and turns away, unable to meet her eyes. "Dalla, you were hurt so badly I'm not sure what you remember. D-do you understand what - what happened to your mother?"

For an answer, Dalla bursts into tears.

Marlon's facade of strength cracks only a little bit while he hugs his daughter.

"The Harkons are on their way," he manages. "All of them. Grandmother Flint, too. And we have Dane and Mina here; they said they'll stay as long as we need."

But Dalla doesn't want Dane and Mina. She doesn't want Grandmother Flint. She doesn't want Glover and Adria Harkon or their twins or even Miranda. Right now she wants the same thing every sick or injured child wants: her mother. And her mother's not coming now or ever.

Marlon says something that might be "I love you" but is too choked with emotion to be sure.

He doesn't leave until she passes out again, though he starts crying before that.

…

During a few not-real hours where all the kids are asleep, Marlon staggers into the sitting room with the other adults. Jamos holds out a cup of tea and even though Marlon's a caf person he takes it.

"How is she?" Shara asks.

"Asleep," Marlon rubs his temples. "And the boys? Are they better?"

"They're asleep too." She guides him to a chair and has him sit. "I think we're done for the night; we just have to remember to wake Dalla every hour."

Mina raises her hand. "I'll take care of that."

"Thank you." Shara takes Jamos' hand. "I should talk to all of them tomorrow. I lost my mother when I was young too."

"I'll take care of it," Marlon snaps. "They're my children. It's my job to help them -."

"Brother, you need some help yourself," Jamos interrupts.

"I'm fine!"

"No one is fine at a time like this."

"Marlon, you have to be strong for your children," Shara urges. "And before you can do that, you need to have your own head in order. For all of your sakes. This is such an important couple of weeks. You have to show the kids you can accept help when you need it. If you let us help you, you're showing how much you care about them. You want to be a good parent for them."

"How does that have to do with now?"

"My father didn't!" Shara snaps, losing her patience for a moment. "He and I were so close, but those few weeks made all the difference for me when I grew older and when I started seeing Sanjay. You need to do this so when your sons get into trouble, or when someone like Sanjay Rash comes up to your daughter and tells her she's pretty, they knows they can trust you with anything."

Marlon sinks back into his seat. "I'm sorry, Shara. It's been a long week."

Shara nods, the apology accepted. "The Harkons are supposed to be here tomorrow. You go with Glover and the rest of us will take care of the children."

"Alright," he agrees. Glover Harkon never fails to have the right words to say, Ephraim and Elinor can play with Thias and Cade, and salt gods know Dalla could benefit from some time with Miranda. "Do their children know?"

"Glover says he and Adria talked to them. They say Miranda is coming prepared."

When it's Miranda they're talking about Marlon doesn't know what all that means, but whatever it is it's going to be good.

"We can use some of that," he admits, just a little of his smile returning.

…

"How's the nose?" Mina asks Dalla the next morning after breakfast.

"Okay. My mouth isn't." The only thing they let her eat was yogurt, and the chill makes her teeth ache.

"I'll take the next one out of the conservator earlier," Mina says and checks the bumps on her head for the hundredth time. "Tell me again what year it is."

Dalla's about to tell her when someone stampedes down the hall and throws the bedroom door open.

Dalla smiles. She knew who it was the second the knob started turning: try as her parents might, Miranda Harkon never really mastered the fine art of knocking except on refresher doors. The joke is that's the reason she doesn't have any younger siblings.

"Hey girl!" Miranda chirps and pushes in. She manages a bag through the door and meets Dalla's eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Dalla's smile freezes on her face, and suddenly her nose hurts very much.

Miranda, even at twelve years old, is a shoo-in for the Miss North Sea pageant her mother won years ago. She's beautiful, beautiful in the way that makes people ask Glover if he has a blaster rifle ready. Their coloring is so similar that when Miranda has her hair down, she could be Dalla's sister. And even though Dalla's never going to be beautiful like her, people always said she was pretty.

Tears come to her eyes. She doesn't think anyone's going to say those things now.

If it was just the two of them, it would be disaster: Dalla would have burst out sobbing, Miranda would have run in and tried to take care of her and made things worse. But luckily for both of them, Mina is there. And both on the Parliament floor and off it, Mina Bonteri is a freaking miracle worker.

"Sorry, dear," she says and quickly escorts Miranda out of the room. "She's on pain medication. Can you give us a few minutes?" Once Miranda leaves she shuts the door, turns to Dalla, and wordlessly hands her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," she takes it and cleans herself up as best she can. "I'm sorry. It's such a stupid thing to cry over -."

"Sweetie, you are thirteen. My son cried over getting jogan juice on his favorite shirt a few weeks ago. This is normal."

Dalla nods, grateful to have an excuse no matter how flimsy.

"It's not going to look like this forever," Mina reads her mind. "Once the swelling goes down it'll be almost like it was. Hold on." She fishes around in her bag and grabs a compact. "See? It's going down already. Just give it some time."

"I can't believe this." She wipes her eyes. "My mother is dead, my father and brothers are grieving, and I'm crying over my stupid face."

Mina sits down on the bed, arms crossed. "Of course you are. It must hurt terribly, and it's your face. It's the first thing you see when you look in the mirror. And you are thirteen years old. To be honest, I was a little worried you didn't cry about it until now. The young lady who just came in, is she your friend?"

"Miranda."

"She's very pretty." She chooses her words with a surgeon's touch. "And so are you. My mother told me when we meet someone new the first thing we notice is their eyes, and once the swelling goes down you have eyes in spades."

"It's no use," Dalla moans. "I heard Dane talking with the healer. They say they can't straighten my nose or teeth and nothing's ever going to look the same again. Nobody's going to want to marry me."

"I highly doubt that."

"Why would anyone want to marry me for any other reason than to get at House Blackwell?"

"Because you're a sweet girl and any family would be lucky to have you for their son. I have it on good authority that at least one person is crossing their fingers for it." Mina hands her a second handkerchief to replace the one that's become a soaked mess. "Take a deep breath."

She does.

"Give me a hug. You need a hug."

That instruction's easy, because she does. Dalla opens her arms and sticks to Mina like a barnacle.

Mina pats her back. "Are you ready to see your friend?"

"If I didn't scare her off." Some greeting she gave Miranda.

"I'll go get her." Mina ducks into the hallway and returns momentarily with Miranda, who's now significantly calmer, on her heels.

Miranda half-smiles. "Pain meds are the worst, right?"

"I guess." Dalla scoots over so Miranda can fit on one side of the bed.

"Fear not," Miranda continues and gestures to her bag. "I came prepared." With that she upends the bag onto the foot of the bed, spilling its contents everywhere: two bottles of brightly colored nail polish, hair elastics, a deck of cards, and an ungodly number of holodisks.

Dalla grabs one and reads the label. Just as she suspected: it's Miranda's favorite holoshow, a musical comedy about a secondary school show choir. "You didn't."

"Aye, I did," Miranda says and pops a disk into her portable holoprojector. "We're bingeing the entire series."

Mina raises an eyebrow. "What show is this?"

"It's a musical, Senator Bonteri," Miranda says with her best innocent smile. "I'm sure you're going to love it."

…

"Miranda, can we please fast forward through the recaps? We already know what happened on the last episode."

Miranda looks up from her current task of painting Dalla's nails bright pink. "Girl, I'm painting your nails. The least you can do is give me my recaps."

"I painted your nails during the last episode."

"You painted my fingernails. I'm painting your toenails. That's worth a little extra."

Dalla sticks her tongue out at Miranda and fast forwards through the recaps anyway.

"You're going too far!" Miranda protests. "You're going to skip the part with Notluiski Papanoida! That part always makes you happy."

"Ladies?"

The girls look over to Mina, who's currently playing solitaire with the dedication of a true fan or someone trying to keep from going insane.

"If I have to hear Notluiski Papanoida sing a showtune, I might just go crazy," she says, still placidly playing cards.

Dalla looks to Miranda. "Uh, 'Randa? I think it might be a good time to put in that holo about the pink Zeltron who goes to law school."

Miranda nods and abandons Dalla's nails in favor of switching out the holodisks. "Thank salt gods I stole this out of Elinor's room."

Mina pulls her chair up to the head of the bed. "This looks better already."

Dalla doesn't stay awake for much of the holo, despite it being one of her favorites. She nods off sometime when the Zeltron heads off to law school in her signature pink and comes around during the climactic trial scene.

"Is she waking up?" Miranda whispers, looking away from the holo.

"Let her sleep," Mina croons and readjusts Dalla's blankets. "She's had a long day."

…

Mina Bonteri wouldn't be surprised if none of the Blackwell children remember their mother's funeral. With Lana Blackwell's body lost at sea, already given back to the salt gods, her family members each take a corner of an empty shroud and heave it over the rail and into the sea.

"We asked for Lana and she was given," Marlon says. "You led her to House Blackwell, where for fifteen years she was my loving wife and the mother to our three children." He composes himself. "She lived her life in the light of the salt gods, and we ask you welcome her home to your halls to live out all of eternity."

He nods to his children, who each press a thumb to their lips and extend their hands, palm facing outward.

"In the light of the salt gods," they all say.

"In the light of the salt gods," the rest of the ship repeats.

The crew turns away from the salt formation and sails them back to the Hold. While they walk down the gangplank Mina comes up to Shara and takes her free hand. "That was a beautiful service."

"It was," Shara reaches around her back to snag Emoth before he can run off. "The children seem to be handling it all right."

"It's the older boy I'm worried about, Thias." Mina looks over her shoulder to check on the children. "Dane says he's barely said a word."

"Ephraim took him into the bay to go sport fishing and he seemed okay then," Shara replies and tries to grab another child. "Jamos, can you please -?"

Jamos nods and swoops little Arkon onto his shoulders to free up another hand so he can grab Emoth and Cornel. "Come on, kids. We're going back inside."

Shara looks around for her eldest but he's well in hand, following Dane around like a second shadow and talking a mile a minute. ("I'm a Dane too! Well actually I'm Kason Dane, but still!") As the rest of her family runs ahead she and Mina go in a side door.

"It's not like Thias to be so quiet," she worries. "He's usually so loud and lively; he's never like this! I'll have to ask Lana about it, she -." Shara stops cold.

Mina places a hand on her shoulder while Shara's face crumbles.

"Why don't we have a talk?" She suggests and shoves open the nearest door to give them some privacy.

Shara sobs as soon as the door shuts. "I can't believe this is happening! Ever since Melaana...I never thought I would have a friend I could trust but as soon as she said hello I knew I could tell her anything. During the whole divorce mess she was right by my side, you saw that. She was my best friend! When I married Jamos she was so excited to be my sister she cried. We were pregnant with Emoth and Cade together, we raised our children together. She was like my other half and now she's gone and I don't know what to do."

Mina knows where to start. "The first thing you're going to do is take a very deep breath." Shara takes two. "Shara, I know I can't possibly understand what you're going through. But I know it's going to get better. You have Jamos and your children and your brother in-law and Dane and I; all of us will stand with you during this."

Shara sniffs.

"I didn't know Lana long, but you both stayed in my home during your divorce. While you took care of your business Lana and I spent a lot of time together. She missed her baby girl and liked to hold little Lux. We talked all the time and if the galaxy can use more of anything, it can definitely use more Lana."

"More Melaana, too."

"Oh, those two are probably talking up a storm now." She smiles just thinking of Lana and Melaana being friends.

Shara laughs humorlessly. "May the force be with everyone else there."

May the force be with all of us here, Mina thinks and gives Shara a hug from her seemingly endless supply. She doesn't have to be a psychologist to know Lana was the tower of support in this family, and now that she's gone the Blackwells are going to have a hole as ever-present as their daughter's scarred face.

At least for a while. Shara's strong as they come; Mina's sure she can pull herself and her family through in one piece. And as long as she's spent with Dalla, Mina's drawn one conclusion: that girl is her mother's daughter, through and through.

…

Thank you all for reading, and don't hesitate to leave a review! (Thank you, Starwarshobbitfics, for yours!) DuchessKenobi and I would absolutely love them.