Life continued apace but eminently more bearable. Life on Tatooine did not become easier but Ahsoka felt her strength ebb back to her as the moons waned and waxed until she found herself ready to deal with the planet at large. It was not just the food which had given her a new lease, but what it represented. Though she would never underestimate the feeling of flesh beneath her teeth again it was not for that that she hunted so often. She was careful to take no more bantha than would be missed but the desert had other rewards to offer. She shot as many womp rats as she pleased, though their meat was tough and tasteless, and had once stumbled across an eopie, clearly lost in the dunes but game all the same. Her own larder was stocked, the Larses were kept supplied, though she never asked what they did with the large quantities she delivered, and the rest she packaged neatly and stacked in the back of her speeder. She and Ennen had developed something of a system; at her sign Ahsoka would take her speeder at night, leaving the children safe at home, and hunt. From there it was no difficulty to make her way to the slave quarters, especially now that they had become so familiar to her. It was easier after that first time, the slaves less hesitant to accept what she left for them to find. She took care that they never saw her but she heard a name whispered under breath as she leapt away across rooftops. She did not stay long enough to hear it.
She felt as though some essential part of her had been given, or rather, won back.
She had kept herself and the children as stable as she could have hoped. Her income from the garage, and the commissions that Varn so reluctantly handed over, kept them in good repair. She struggled to describe them as comfortable but she had seen the realities of life on Tatooine. They had a roof, food, water and a little extra besides. It was more than she had dreamed of being able to scrounge when they had first arrived.
There were times when she passed cantinas spilling into the streets on her way home, times when she would see bounty hunters, spacers, beings of ill-repute and she would struggle to beat down a twinge of…something. Nostalgia? Some small and reckless part of her remembered just how well high risk and high reward went together but she never entertained the thought further. It wasn't so long ago that those people were more familiar to her than the woman she had become, a woman with a job, a home and two small children. She packed the thoughts of the past away. She had friends here, at least of a sort, and family, again of a sort.
Sometimes her first few days on Tatooine seemed a lifetime ago, and she would wonder just how many lifetimes she would be expected to live before she could find one to keep. Uncertainty had dogged her very step in those early days whereas now it was a distant but constant companion. She was under no illusion she would have been able to survive without Owen and Beru when she arrived with the children in tow. It was one of the greatest satisfactions in life to be able to pay them back in turn.
They managed their farm well between them, turning a decent output from the vaporators but when Beru mentioned a blocked valve high up in one of their older models Ahsoka was there the next morning. When Owen caught the seasonal influenza two years after she arrived she had run herself into the ground making sure that their farm remained profitable while Beru tended to him.
She had even managed to pay off their initial loan of the vaporator; though against strenuous objections. Owen had looked ready to outright refuse but she was ready to dig her heels in when Beru sighed with a smile. Ahsoka had handed her the credits with no doubt in her mind that they would simply turn straight back around and spend it on the children. At any given time about half of the twins' possessions were at the Lars homestead instead of their own.
The children, for they were children now and no longer infants or even toddlers, had grown beyond her wildest dreams. She had had some inkling in those early days that they would grow into being themselves, two distinct little people, but it had been hard to appreciate when the only thing she could glean from them were glimpses of amorphous minds, still forming and becoming.
At four years of age they had grown into individuals.
Luke was curious about every single thing that caught his attention and ran to investigate them as soon as he could see her attention flicker. His first word had been a very earnest "Why?" and as much as Ahsoka felt like she spent half of her life turning on the spot looking for the wake of chaos he inevitably left she always took the time to answer as best she could. Not that she was often his first choice; whenever they arrived at the Lars homestead Luke would follow Owen around as if he were Ekkreth himself. It often ended up with him in the garage and Owen carefully explaining the various parts of a vaporator to him. She doubted Luke fully understood but the never stopped him from going. Invariably, it ended with Ahsoka trying and failing to scrub the oil stains from his clothes.
Leia was a fierce little thing, a head of dark hair to her brother's blond, a scowl to his grin. She stuck closer to Ahsoka that Luke, often content to sit peaceably on her lap while Ahsoka and Beru spoke. She was quiet when she did so, but Ahsoka could feel her young mind ticking over as she listened, not fully understanding but listening and remembering all the same.
It was during one of those evening visits that Beru had first taught Ahsoka how to deal with human hair. Luke was happy to have his cut short and out of his eyes but Leia had refused which had led Ahsoka straight to Beru's door.
"Now cross that strand over the middle one- no, don't let go. Here, switch your hand like- yes, that's it." She said as Ahsoka made her third attempt at a braid. She couldn't say that this was one of the problems she had anticipating in raising human children and certainly not one of the more challenging ones, but she was willing to stand corrected.
Leia didn't complain as she sat stoically in the middle of the kitchen table, even though Ahsoka was sure she must have been tugging uncomfortable. Once more she spared a grateful thought for her lekku.
"And then what?" Ahsoka asked in trepidation, remembering some of Padmé's more elaborate hair styles.
Beru helped her tie of the end of one of the braids and left Ahsoka to do the other one. "Now you can pin them into buns. Where do you want the buns, Leia?"
Leia gave the question the serious consideration it deserved before patting the crown of her head. "Here." She said definitively, "Like Auntie Ash."
Ahsoka tried to keep from too obviously melting but if Beru's badly hidden smile was anything to go by she did not succeed. Ahsoka pinned them carefully to the top of Leia's head, smoothing down the escaping wisps with her hand.
"What do you think?" She asked. She didn't have a mirror to offer but Leia patted them gently before breaking out into a grin.
"What do you say?" Beru asked her.
"Thank you, Auntie Ash." She said seriously before giggling as Ahsoka swung her from the table and onto the floor again.
"You're welcome, kiddo. Go and grab your brother would you? We should get home before it gets too cold."
Leia ran off to find Luke and Beru sat at the table as they waited.
"Like Auntie Ash, huh?"
Ahsoka grinned. "You should have seen the day I had to tell her that she wasn't going to grow her own montrals. Devastated."
Beru laughed and Ahsoka was just about to launch into a similar tale of Luke trying to give himself facial markings with their toothpaste when they heard the sound of children inbound. A crash, a laugh and a muttered "Don't tell your aunts." before the door opened and Luke dragged both his sister and his uncle through it.
Covered in engine oil.
Naturally.
Those far distant memories of martial command came in useful when making their goodbyes and herding the children into the speeder. Her life had become significant lighter when they both mastered walking under her own steam but there were times when she dearly missed being able to haul them around like a sack of tubers.
By the time she had them strapped in and raised her hand in farewell the final sunset was upon them. The children's energy waned as she wound through the dunes and, without looking back at them she began humming, a gentle tune she couldn't remember the words to.
By the time she pulled up to their home they were both out. Luke slept with his mouth open, Leia with her head tilted to one side. Ahsoka smiled as she unbuckled them. Sometimes it seemed impossible she would ever be able to hear her own thoughts again with the two of them tearing through the house but like this, both of them asleep against her as she negotiated closing the speeder and then opening the door, it seemed impossible that these could be the same children. She envied their energy frequently.
They were heavy now, and it was awkward to carry both of them at the same time. When standing they reached her thigh and it seemed incredible that she had once been able to wear both of them at the same time. They shared a room and so when she finally managed to get them both tucked into their own beds, thankfully without waking either, she was treated to a rare sight. It wasn't often she had the time to look at both of them at peace; normally if Leia wasn't pulling at her hand then Luke was tearing off into the distance. It was with a wry sort of shock and an echo of that old familiar guilt that she realised this might be the happiest she had ever been. She had thought she knew happiness; it was in the snap of a canvas tent, the press of a thousand brothers and the smile in her master's voice. It was being surrounded by beings just like her, from a thousand different planets but who could all hear the Force singing to them in ways they didn't yet have the words to articulate but intrinsically understood.
But it hadn't been true. The gathering gloom of Coruscant had seeped through the Temple's stones stalking the hallways like a beast and a child had no place on a battlefield.
She sighed as she looked at the children. Luke had shifted onto his side and Leia snuffled in her sleep. Sometimes she felt older than her twenty-one years.
She turned out the light as she left them. She checked the locks and security systems before seeking her own rest. She fell asleep to them feel of her children's minds chasing dreams in the room across from her own.
Days continued to run like sand through her open fingers. The children grew so quickly that sometimes she wished she could cup her palms and catch the sand before it fell, but each new day brought some new discovery and would be gone before she remembered. It wasn't long until she was going to have seriously consider putting them into the local school.
There was little she could get past Beru but she had laughed when Ahsoka confessed it to her.
"I'm told it's common." She said kindly, "Children change so quickly it puts the rest of us to shame. Just remember to take a step back and appreciate it once in a while."
It was good advice that would have once crippled her with self-reproach when she thought of Anakin and Padmé but time had dulled the edge of the blade. When she looked into their faces now she could see their parents but, perhaps, and in her most secret of thoughts, she thought she saw a little of herself there too.
She tried to remember Beru's advice. Her house was no longer the empty estate it had been. She had a work bench piled high with parts she had bartered for with jawas, scattered toys from the children and another rug, this one larger and thicker than the first, spread upon the floor. The old Med-droid, EMK14-71, remained a silent a taciturn presence in front of her but seemed warmer when set upon the children.
The children themselves, running underfoot, playing, fighting, demanding her attention, made the house into a home. They drove the shadows from the corners, broke open the silence with fat little hands.
She took them with her most places she went. They stayed with Owen and Beru while she worked from time to time but over the years there had come to be a space in her workshop covered in toys they had left behind, blankets and the two faded cushions that Varn had never asked for back.
She wondered, sometimes, when she should take them with her everywhere. They had not met the grandmothers yet. Not yet.
The next morning she decided to take them with her to work. They were rambunctious and loud but her project list was under control and despite his unease Varn had never actually got around to telling her to stop bringing them.
The workshop was familiar to them now and they were happy enough to run over to their things. Leia fell upon her flimsies and colourings immediately and Luke seemed content to dismantle yesterday's creations in favour of building it anew today.
The peace wouldn't last forever but Ahsoka worked while it did.
Halfway through the morning the door to her workshop swung open and Ennen passed through it. She was a regular enough presence that the children cried her name when they saw her but her smile was somewhat pained as she greeted them. They didn't notice, too busy babbling at her and trying to pull her into their games. Ahsoka had not known how to explicitly address the difference between freeborn and slave to children their age but Ennen herself had handed it with tact only a few months before. She had told them carefully, and with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, that her time was not her own, that she would need to do what she was told no matter how much she would rather spent time with them instead. It was a sanitised explanation and one that Ahsoka knew they would need to add to as the years rolled by, but it had obviously had enough of an effect that when Ahsoka clapped her hands to get their attention and sent them back to their games they went willingly enough.
When she was sure their attention was diverted she turned to Ennen. Ennen's face was still in a strained smile but it dropped when the children turned away.
"It's Master Varn." She said lowly, "He's been at the cantina."
Ahsoka frowned in confusion, "When has he not?" She asked.
Ennen shook her head. "It's worse today. It's the…anniversary."
Ahsoka wanted to ask for more information but there was a crash from the front of the shop followed by a muffled curse.
The children looked up.
"Right." Said Ahsoka. She turned to where she kept her odds and ends, bolts and screws, washers and nails. She gathered as many as she could, dumping them all into a tin and shaking it. She made her way to the children.
"Hey, kids?" She asked, "I need to go talk to Ennen for a minute, do you think you could help me sort these out? Sort them all into little piles?"
Luke lit up and Leia looked determined not to be outdone by her brother. She handed them over and watched for a moment to make sure they were absorbed in the task.
She went back to Ennen. "Right, let's go." She followed Ennen down the hall and onto the shop floor where they found Varn trying to get his feet back beneath him using the counter to take his weight.
It was a pathetic sight. His knees bucked as he staggered upright and his hands shook. He had a deathly pallor which, while not unusual for him, was alarming. When she got closer the stench of him made her wrinkle her nose.
"Ashla!" He managed when he saw her, slurring her name. "I need the, I'm looking for the… you know…" he waved his hand vaguely in front of him as though trying to pluck the word from the air. The effort nearly over-balanced him. "Manifest! I need the manifest! Numbers don't add up…keep telling Ennen…"
He slumped back down to the floor, back sliding down the side of the desk.
Ahsoka looked at Ennen.
"I had to pull him in from the doorstep." She said. "I can't get him up the stairs on my own."
Ahsoka sighed. In all honesty she doubted she had ever seen Varn fully sober but he was normally quiet, skulking around the shop, prone to fits of melancholy and pettiness in turn. He was a negligent fool but he usually made an effort to be an unobtrusive one, at least when he knew the children would be out the back.
"Alright, come on then." She said, steeling herself. Up close he was an even sorrier state, clearly unwashed for several days. He had a burst blood vessel in his left eye. She ducked to get him upright, pulling his arm over her shoulders while Ennen did the same on his other side.
His head lolled and he looked vaguely surprised to be upright and see her so close.
"He would have been twenty-four by now." He muttered as Ahsoka fought to keep him steady. "Twenty-four. Ha! That's older than you."
"Get him to the stairs." Said Ennen, and together they began hauling him in the right direction. Slung between them he mumbled but was of little use in marshalling his own limbs. The stairs, narrow and steep, proved to a logistical problem, but Ennen went ahead and waited as Ahsoka gritted her teeth and took more of his weight.
Ennen went to unlock the door to his bedroom and Ahsoka looked around. She had never been up into Varn's personal apartment and it was tidier than she had expected. Almost barren and devoid of furniture but swept. Ennen swung the door open and revealed a room with a sleeping mat and dresser. There was a mirror, dirty and cracked, but little else.
"Come on then."
Ahsoka dragged him forward once more, and went to dump him on the sleeping mat when he grabbed her arm tightly. She fought the urge to make him let go but when she looked at him there was a fierce light in his eyes that she hadn't seen before.
"I heard what happened with Cen's men, Ashla. I heard what you did to them. Good on you, good on you, girl."
She broke his grip and stepped back. He groaned as she took her support away, all but falling onto his sleeping mat. Ahsoka watched him for a moment, disconcerted, but it was evident he wasn't going to be able to leave for some time. She turned to Ennen, perhaps to ask if there was something they should do or what had happened, but Ennen silence her with a gesture.
"Do we need to do anything else?" Ahsoka asked lowly.
Ahsoka watched as Ennen dropped to one knee beside Varn and put two fingers to his neck. She took his pulse, checked his temperature with the back of her hand and carefully pulled an eyelid open. Her movements were confident, well practiced. She shook her head. "He'll sleep it off."
Ahsoka nodded, at a loss. She wanted to ask a question but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. Wordlessly, she followed Ennen down the stairs and to the door of her office.
Ennen didn't even wait for her to speak. "It's the anniversary of the day his sister and nephew were killed." She said. "Twelve years ago now. His sister used to own this place, practically raised him before she had her son."
Ahsoka's mouth felt dry. "What happened?"
Ennen smiled though there was no humour on her face, "Some Hutt enforcers were running a protection racket around these parts. She refused to pay even when they threatened to call in her loans. They came back three nights later, killed her, killed her boy. Only reason Master Varn made it out was he was out late drinking in one of the bars. He was the one who found them."
She felt sick at the image. She'd always thought, somewhat scornfully, that Varn was a caricature of Tatooinian sleemo, and it discomforting to feel pity for him.
"His sister," said Ennen, before breaking off. She cleared her throat, "She was a good woman. Not perfect but…good. She told me she'd free me if I worked well for her for ten years. Of course, she never told Master Varn this, or if she did then it's more convenient for him to forget. But she was the one who got me out of that Palace so I'll always owe her for that." Ennen's voice was rough and when Ahsoka looked at her she was surprised to see that her eyes were wet. "Will you excuse me?" She said and all but fled before Ahsoka could answer. It seemed that Varn was not the only one still mourning, she thought heavily.
She went back to the children. They were much the same as she had left them, sorting nuts and bolts between them, but she felt their relief at her return. Not for the first time she wondered how much of the world they perceived between them, how much was intuition and how much was impressions from the Force that they lacked the experience to separate.
She crouched next to them. "How we doing?" She asked and tried to smile.
Luke happily dumped various scraps of metal into her cupped hands and Leia seemed content to let him explain. Ahsoka watched them and tried not to let her thoughts wander to the room above them. She could feel the pall of misery and grief creeping from overhead and the thought of Varn, drunk and rambling in the same building as the twins, hung like a weight around her neck. She knew that realistically Varn was unlikely to offer any real threat to them and she had no doubt that should she be proven wrong she would be able to protect them from him, but not all harm was physical. There would be time enough, especially on Tatooine, for the children to see all that the planet could show them. Just for a little while longer, she told herself, let me keep their world bright just a little while longer.
"What do you think about getting lunch at the market?" She asked suddenly, cutting across Luke's ramblings.
But far from looking put out Luke grinned. He loved the market.
Leia looked at her suspiciously, "Can we get jogan dumplings?"
Ahsoka smiled. She was in little danger of spoiling the children here and there seemed little harm in agreeing.
"Dumplings for my little dumplings." She said and held out her hands. She spared a thought for Ennen, locked up in her office, and resolved to bring something back for her. She thought of Ennen's voice breaking and Varn's vice-like grip on her arm. She felt no guilt or trepidation in leaving the garage, though it was only just approaching noon. She squeezed the children's hands once and let them pull her along.
Leia stuck close to her side while Luke pulled her along, hunting for the stall seemingly by smell alone. They were a fixture of Mos Eisley as much as the sandstone blocks that comprised it by now, and though they attracted some looks they were easily met by a nod and, occasionally, a quick word.
There were some who looked at her and nodded back, men, women, and beings that were neither, who wore collars and rough spun fabrics. Some she recognised from her nighttime jaunts throughout the slave quarters and some she did not. They nodded at her, but she caught quick, fleeting smiles when they glimpsed the children. Another worry to add to the rest; soon the children would have to be told of their heritage and of the many beings eager to meet them.
Leia wanted to say hello to Kuna as they went past her stall and it was all Ahsoka could do to hold Luke in place until they could make their way onwards again.
Eventually they wound their way back to the shop. The children were still eating, hands and faces sticky with the deep fried fruit but utterly content. Ahsoka watched them as they ate. Sometimes four years seemed like an eternity and sometimes she was scared that she would blink and another four would have passed before she knew what had happened. Four years was longer than she had ever been a padawan. It was longer than she had been with Anakin, longer than she had ever been in the war although it seemed impossible to her now. Those years seemed to be most of her life when she looked back. It seemed impossible that the children were eating in front of her when she could have sworn that it was only a few months ago that she was still warming their formula for them.
They arrived back and Ahsoka knew there was no point in pretending that she would get anymore work done today. Her mind was unfocused and her eyes kept drifting back to the children. In the end she gave in. it was a very early end to the day but there was no chance of Varn finding out in the state he was in. She sent the children off to Ennen to give her the extra dumplings she'd bought while she packed away her tools. Ennen might still refuse a gift if it came from her but she wasn't going to be able to resist the children. They'd been more helpful than they knew in that regard; it had made her laugh the first time she had realised that every friend she had made on Tatooine had been the result of thrusting the children under their nose and waiting for them to melt.
She could hear Ennen's voice through the hall, talking to the children. They'd be there a few minutes yet she knew. She took out her commlink and took a breath. She had enough time to make a call.
By the time the children came back she had her smile fixed back on an her commlink put away. She couldn't hear any noise from overhead but she didn't relax until they were speeding out of Mos Eisley and back into the open desert. She wondered if that was how Ennen felt all of the time.
She waited until the front door had closed behind them before turning to them.
"How do you two feel about starting school?"
The night before the children were due to start school she awoke in the small hours of the morning. For a moment she wasn't sure what had woken her until she turned over and came level with Luke's pale little face.
"I had a nightmare." He told her.
She sat upright and opened the covers to him. He clambered in quickly, huddling against her side. It wasn't exactly unexpected. When she had made the call to Reta Darklighter to see about getting the twins started on an education they'd initially been thrilled. It helped when she told them that Reta had a son only a few years older than them and that there would be other children there besides. It was a small school Reta ran, but then there weren't many children around to attend it. Ahsoka had signed them up for four days a week, all of the days that were offered, and prayed that it would be a good thing for them. The twins' world was somewhat small: home, the Larses, the shop. It would be scary for them and Ahsoka could only pretend that it wasn't equally frightening for her.
So sure, they'd been excited at the outset but over the course of the week, and as their first day grew closer, Ahsoka could feel the anxiety growing between them. Even Luke had been less likely to escape, choosing to shadow her almost like his sister.
It wasn't a surprise he'd woken her up hours before his first day.
"You had a bad dream?" She asked through a stifled yawn.
He nodded but didn't say anything.
"What about?" She asked.
He hesitated a moment before the story came tumbling out of him. A stream of childish anxieties; school, what if none of the other children liked him, what if Leia didn't want to spend any time with him, what if, what if, what if.
Ahsoka listened even as she relaxed. Just regular dreams, nothing prophetic or ominous. Just regular dreams that she could deal with. She let him talk himself out until he was almost back to sleep. She eased him into laying down, pulled the covers up and waited.
It was barely five more minutes until the door creaked. Leia stood on the threshold. She didn't say anything as she padded over to Ahsoka's other side and climbed up onto the bed. Ahsoka helped her get under the covers.
"Was Luke scared?" Leia whispered.
Ahsoka nodded.
"I'll stay so you both don't get scared." She said, all badly hidden relief, before curling up and burrowing further under the covers.
Ahsoka smiled but didn't say anything. Leia relaxed until she, too, was once again asleep.
She was sure she was in for an uncomfortable night with little elbows and knees keeping her awake but she fell asleep easily, all that she loved within arms reach.
But dawn came swiftly and it hardly seemed any time at all until she was easing out of bed, trying not to wake the children. It was another half an hour before she had to start getting them ready and she had enough to occupy herself until then. She was nervous too, she realised. It was a strange feeling. She had thought about schooling frequently as the twins aged and she knew they would have to attend eventually, but standing on the edge of the moment of sending them away felt like something almost momentous, one of their early steps into becoming their own independent people, perhaps.
She busied herself with making their breakfasts and tried not to think about it.
It wasn't long until it was time to wake both of them. With bleary eyes and many yawns she chivvied them into eating their breakfast and then into dressing. They didn't have much in the way of smart clothes- and what use would they get out of them if they did?- but she made sure they were presentable, taking her time in making sure that Leia's hair was neat and Luke's shirt was tucked in.
"Ready?" She asked them before they left. She looked down at them, Luke jittery and Leia solemn and wished that she had a holo-cam with her.
The drive over to the Darklighter farmstead was quiet, abnormally so for one with two children. It wasn't long until the speeder drew closer and Ahsoka killed the engine only a short walk away. She got the children out of the car. She knelt in front of them.
"You have your lunches?" She asked them, more for her peace of mind than theirs, "And your water?"
They nodded.
"Got you flimsi?" She asked.
They nodded again.
"You remember my commlink number?"
She made them repeat it back to her before she smiled. "You're both going to have so much fun. Remember if anything goes wrong you call me right away. You both be good."
"Yes, Auntie Ash."
"We will be, Auntie Ash."
She opened her arms and almost fell backward as they both threw themselves at her. She held them tightly a moment longer before standing. She smiled at them. "Go on then!"
It was a strange sort of sadness as she watched them walk, hand in hard, to the front door of Reta Darklighter's farm. In fact, she hesitated to call it sadness at all, a type of melancholy perhaps, to see them walk away from her, but touched with joy and pride, such overwhelming pride. It was the first time, the first of many times in their life, where they would go on to explore the world without her constantly by their sides.
The door opened when they got close enough and she saw Reta Darklighter welcome them in with an easy smile. She raised her hand when Reta looked out. It didn't look like her own early schooling had, there were no vaulted Temple ceilings, no crèche full of other initiates. It was little more than a few local farms pooling their children but she was glad of it all the same. She had worked out with Reta what would be owed and the woman wanted nothing that wasn't easily obtained, mostly just a supply of fresh meat. She took a last breath as the door closed before forcing herself to turn back to the speeder.
It was still early for her to head into town but she felt at a loss. Too much free time had not been a problem she'd encounter thus far on Tatooine and she wasn't sure what to do with it now she had it. Unbidden, she remembered what she would do in the Temple. Anakin had always despised meditation but sometimes, when he was elsewhere in the city and her friends and classes couldn't keep her attention she would seek out Master Obi-Wan and ask if he would meditate with her. He often obliged. She thought of her wandering mind of late and the roil of emotions in her chest. She hadn't meditated in years but a some small part of her wondered if it might calm her like it used to. If, perhaps, she could find a familiar solace-
She veered suddenly in her speeder. There was always more work at the shop. She might as well head in early, keep her hands busy and hope that her mind would follow. She pushed the uncomfortable notion of meditation from her thoughts.
She arrived early, parking on the street and entering through shop floor, Varn's startled face turning to her before he dipped his eyes again. He hadn't said anything since she and Ennen had dragged him up the stairs but he didn't ask why she didn't bring the children in anymore either. She didn't stop to say good morning with Ennen, not with Varn so close by.
The morning passed slowly with her attention flicking to the chronometer frequently. She wondered what the kids were doing now? Were they playing with the other children? Had Leia loosened up enough to make some friends? Was Luke able to sit still long enough to listen?
She turned herself back to the project manifest. For a while she managed to lose herself in a short circuited water filtration unit and it wasn't until Ennen finally came through that she checked the clock once more. Only noon.
"How's it going?" Asked Ennen, badly hidden amusement in her voice.
Ahsoka gave up the pretence and groaned, "Badly." She said, "I think I might be more nervous than them." Though even as she said it she remembered their little hands clutched together as they walked to the front door.
Ennen smiled. "They'll be fine. Although you look like you might vibrate out of your skin. Master Varn's gone to the cantina, why don't you take lunch?"
She didn't roll her eyes at Varn though it did make it easier to work without him lurking over her shoulder.
"Yeah I think I will." She said, standing straight and trying to work the crick from her back, "You want anything from the market?"
Ennen demurred as she always did and Ahsoka made a mental note to get her something anyway. She headed out the front, across the shop floor which was no more reputable looking despite her continued efforts and into the market.
It was easier now that the margins were no longer so thin as to prohibit the occasional indulgence. She could smell meat cooking from somewhere and wandered until she found the stall she was looking for. Skewers of meat rotated over an open brazier, fat dripping into the fire below. There was a time when she would have asked what meat it was before buying one but those days were past. She ate it over a cupped palm as she looked for somewhere where she could buy herself and Ennen a caf, something strong enough to keep her awake through the afternoon.
It was only then, as she began to properly look around, that she noticed something unsettled about the market. At any given time there were at least a dozen laws being broken about town, from contraband to scams, but that was normal and no one ever batted an eye. Now though, she watched as people busied themselves uneasily. Patrons moved from one stall to another, no conversations held between them, exchanges unusually brusque.
She narrowed her eyes as she looked around them. Something was off. After only a bare moment of indecision she closed her eyes and reached for the Force. It was always with her, always moving through her but sometimes, in the thick of running after the twins, hunting and work, she forgot. But she opened herself to it now and let it wash over her. Mos Eisley was always a torrent of duplicity and deceit, with eddies of treachery running slickly like oil over water, but today there was something different. She frowned as she tried to grasp it, though it eluded her at first, ephemeral and thin.
Anxiety.
A thread of trepidation that linked the people hustling themselves through the market like stitches in a great tapestry. She wondered for a moment what could have caused such great unity of feeling before her attention was caught.
"Ashla!"
She turned at the sound of her name and saw Kuna waving to her. She made her way over. Kham was sat by his mother pulling apart a smaller processing unit and separating the components.
"Kuna." She said warmly when she reached them. She and the twins visited Kuna from time to time and she passed her home every time she went into the slave quarters.
Kuna didn't return her smile. "Have you heard the news?" She asked lowly, hands clasped tightly together as though to stop her from wringing them.
"About the storm this week?" Ahsoka asked, confused. She couldn't imagine why anyone would care about a storm still days away in a place like Mos Eisley, especially when it had been tracked for so long.
Kuna shook her head. "No, not that. About the new trade routes."
"Is it really that bad?" She said, still not quite able to place the reason for the shroud of unease about the place.
"There was a new announcement from the Core today, they're talking about re-establishing trade routes with the Mid-Rim and cracking down on taxing imported goods."
Ah, now she understood. Talk of new taxes was enough to set anyone on edge, let alone the denizens of Tatooine. "Was it about Tatooine specifically or the Outer Rim in general?" She asked, trying to sound casual. The news wasn't as alarming as she had initially feared but the idea of an Imperial presence set her teeth on edge.
Kuna looked around and grabbed a holo-net projector she had on her desk. "Here." She said and turned it on.
Ahsoka wasn't prepared for the image that appeared in front of her.
It was the Senate, or at least the mockery of it that existed now, and taken from a distance.
Palpatine was there.
She had forgotten what he looked like now. In fact, she barely recognised him, the sagging flesh of his face, the stoop and curve of his spine. He looked malformed, grotesque, and yet the whole of the Senate listened in rapt attention as he laid bare his new reforms. She barely listened as he spoke. She couldn't look away from him. There was a figure behind him, a hulking great black frame of a droid which stood silently as Palpatine expounded at length. She looked back to Kuna.
"Transmission took a couple of weeks to get here but they're going to start re-opening the routes soon." Kuna worried at her thumbnail, "I'm not sure how much more tax we can take."
Ahsoka tried to find a smile for her. These things come and go, she told her, the plan would probably die in the vacuum before it even reached them. All this she said with a smooth voice and a comforting touch of the hand. When she left Kuna felt steadier in the Force, reassured.
Ahsoka went to the caf vendor and bought two cups. She barely registered the heat of it as she took her first sip.
So that was Palpatine. The last time she had seen him in person he had been jovial, avuncular even. The last time she had seen him in a holo it had been with her master kneeling at his feet and she hadn't been able to bear looking too closely. Intellectually she had known he was still out there, but it was something else to see him passing down his edicts from on high.
Where was Anakin in all of this? She couldn't picture her old master being content to play at politics, he'd barely had the patience for it before he had given into the Dark Side of the Force and she couldn't imagine he had learnt any restraint since. For a moment the fear that she had felt on Alderaan overtook her; for a single moment it felt like he could be lurking within arms reach, ready to materialise from the shadows, round the corner or else simply appear and tear away everything she had built.
She hurried back from the shop.
She pressed the caf into Ennen's hands and waved away her protests before shutting herself away in the garage. She was no less distracted now than she had been before but she was no longer thinking about the children at school.
Nothing has changed, she told herself over and over again, you knew he was out there, nothing has changed, but still she was unnerved.
For all she still did not want to meditate she did go as far as to take a deep breath and hold it. She counted to three, released it. Repeat. She felt her heart slow as she blew out the last breath. She looked around her. There was enough work to keep her occupied and she had been right earlier when she mentioned the storm to Kuna; it had already been upgraded twice and Owen had commed her both times to let her know. She had enough worries to be getting on with. She had no need to borrow them.
She told herself she felt better as she packed up that afternoon, and she told herself so many times that she started to believe it. It wasn't until she pulled up to the Darklighter farmstead and saw the children come barrelling towards her that she truly felt it.
"Auntie Ash!"
"We met so many other kids-"
"Ms Reta says she's going to teach us how to read good-"
"Better!"
"We're going to read better and-"
Ahsoka laughed and held her hands up to slow them down. "One at a time, one at a time! Did you have a good day?"
They nodded furiously. Behind them Reta nodded from her doorstep. Ahsoka resolved to comm her at some point to check the children were as happy with the new arrangement as they seemed but she was relieved by the chatter and exuberance; the silence this morning had unnerved her.
They told her all about their day on the ride home, and all through dinner. Ahsoka frequently had to remind Leia to keep eating, and for Luke to remember to actually chew his food. Talk of tax impositions and trade routes seemed like foreign concepts in their home, with the lights lit and the world barred outside of the front door.
She listened to their stories even as she tucked them into bed that night. They had wilted some time after dinner, the excitement of the day having finally taken its toll as they yawned their way through the evening. They looked so very small tucked up in bed and exhausted, but they felt incandescently bright. For a moment she let herself feel it before she brought her shields back up to hide them all once more.
It seemed utterly impossible to fathom how they could exist in the same universe as Palpatine and the government that he had rotted straight through to its core.
The week passed peacefully for the most part. Getting the twins ready for school became just another part of the morning routine at the Sokath-Skywalker estate. There were a few mornings early on where one or both of them would backslide into reticence but they were easily cajoled by the idea of seeing other the other children, children who were quickly becoming their friends.
She didn't realise quite how good a friends they were making until the end of the week when Leia, upon first getting into the house, announced that she was going to marry Biggs Darklighter.
"I knew this day would come. It's been lovely having you with us, Leia." Ahsoka said, starting on the dinner prep.
"It's not fair." Said Luke, kicking at the floor, "You don't even like him."
"Do to."
"You only want to marry him because I said I was going to marry him first."
She watched them bicker and wondered if she should step in when Leia screeched and chased after her brother like a child possessed. For the first time Ahsoka thought it might have been a good thing that her hot-headed little girl wasn't in line to rule a planet. She should step in, and she would, she told herself, just as soon as it stopped being funny.
"Dinner!" She called above the racket and both of them abandoned their attempts at fratricide and ran over. They showed her their hands were clean, mostly because she could remember the crèche masters making her do the same when she was their age, before taking their seats. She watched them tuck in before turning back to serve up her own meal.
"So you like the other kids then?" She asked them and then forestalled further protests, "Kids apart from Biggs Darklighter."
"Yep." Said Luke, through what must have been about two spoonfuls of dinner, "Jura said he'd teach me how to walk on my hands tomorrow."
Ahsoka smiled, "That's pretty impressive. Leia?"
Leia was somewhat neater than her brother and finished her mouthful before speaking. "Yun said we could be friends even though she's already best friends with Lilat."
Ahsoka set her own meal down and joined them, "That's great news."
She saw, with some amusement, Leia send a sidelong look at Luke. He looked back at her with bulging cheeks.
"Auntie Ash, why don't you have any friends?" Leia asked abruptly.
Ahsoka sputtered a laugh, completely off guard. "I have friends." She said, still laughing. "I'm friends with Owen and Beru."
Luke swallowed his mouthful. "They're family, they don't count." He told her.
"Well what about Ennen?" She said.
Leia shook her head. "She works at the garage. She said that free people can't be friends with slaves."
Ahsoka was going to need to have a chat with Ennen, it seemed, about how to explain the intricacies of complex social relations to children who were only just approaching their fifth birthday.
She racked her brain. "Kuna! I'm friends with Kuna."
Leia looked at her; there were times, unnerving and infrequent, where Ahsoka got the feeling Leia was looking right through her. "Kuna's scared of you." She said.
"What? No, she isn't." Ahsoka said gently.
"She is. She's scared of everyone. I felt it. Luke felt it too."
Her appetite receded as she put down her knife. "You felt it?" She asked, "What did it feel like?"
She watched the pair of them struggle to find the words to describe what they had felt. She knew the sensation all too well; a flash of cold, something wet and unpleasant sliding down the spine, settling in the stomach. She felt it now. She had known they were Force sensitive since they were born, and strong at that, but this was the first time she had seen the evidence of it. They were so young.
"Auntie Ash?" Asked Luke uncertainly, "did we do something wrong?"
She dredged a smile up for them and forced herself to pick her knife up again. She shook her head. "You just surprised me is all."
She let them chatter away to each other over the course of the dinner, her hands moving of their own accord as she collected their dishes and set them aside to wash. Her hands gripped the counter as she turned her back. Time, time, never enough time. She made a decision.
"Would you like to hear a story?" She asked, back still turned. She turned to face them slowly, two suspicious little faces looking back at her. Stories were usually reserved for putting them to bed and the suns were still in the sky. She joined them back at the table.
"What about?" Asked Luke.
"Would you like to hear a story about my friends? The ones I had before you were born."
It was the first time she had ever mentioned anything of the sort in front of them. Beru and Owen had never asked anything of her past after those first few days and certainly never in front of the children. Luke and Leia were older now, their minds growing and adapting but still learning to question. She didn't think it had ever occurred to either of them that she had ever lived anywhere else but on their little farm in the middle of the desert.
There were so many stories they would need to be told. It wouldn't be long now until they were old enough for her to take to the Grandmother's and hear their culture for themselves, but tonight was not the night for that. Perhaps selfishly, she wanted to share a little of her own past with them. She wanted them to know where she came from, where their parents lived, who she had loved. She wanted to give them a story of their own.
But where to start?
She thought about it as they settled down on the nest of pillows and blankets she pulled to the floor. There would be time enough for tales of the war and heroics, time for stories of mothers and fathers in the years to come. She would save the stories of Master Obi-Wan for a time when she would be able to talk of him without the phantom feeling of his chest stilling under her palm. Tonight she wanted something more happy than sad, for the sadness would come soon enough whether she wanted it or not.
Two expectant faces lifted to look at her.
"It all begins," she said, looking down at them, "with a man named Master Plo."
She watched them as she told the story of how Master Plo had found her in the forests of Shili, their faces rapt as she added flourishes and twists to her tale.
It hurt to say his name but, perhaps, not as much as she thought it would. Master Plo was surely dead, she couldn't remember the exact lance of pain in the maelstrom of Order 66, but she knew with cold certainty that he was gone. But a strange thing happened as she told her story to the children. It wasn't that the pain of his death was lessened; but rather that it was eclipsed. She remembered the timbre of his voice as she told them what he had told her those many years ago, the security of his presence as he lifted her in his arms. Like poison from a wound, she thought. Was this what the Temple had been trying to teach her, she wondered, was this what it felt like to let go? Somehow she didn't think so. If there was a way to let go of her attachments to her former life, or indeed her life now, she hadn't found it, nor would she wish to. She had known for years now that this wasn't the type of pain that would ever fully heal, merely become easier to live with.
No, it reminded her of something else entirely; of Owen and Beru, of still water running deep.
The comparison stayed with her throughout the story, through the evening and well into her nighttime routine with the children. She tucked them in, pulled Leia's blanket straight and smoothed back Luke's hair. She kissed both their foreheads. There had been a time when she had looked at the desert and despaired of ever being able to scratch out a life in it. Now she knew she would do anything to protect the life she had built in it.
She stood upright and put all thoughts of the past away.
The next morning arrived with the same burgeoning routine as the week before. The children were acclimatising to school and Leia barely even grumbled as Ahsoka pulled back her hair into a single braid. Luke watched the process from the his spot by the front door, already anxious to be outside and on their way.
The journey passed without incident. She began her journey into town from the Darklighter homestead. She didn't have to be at the shop that morning but she had promised Kuna she'd take a look at a processing droid that had come her way. Fallen off the back of a spice freighter, she'd been told and Ahsoka had smiled and not inquired any further.
The market felt sluggish as she wound her way through the rows of tables. Beings of all species and ages were setting up their stalls and hanging their canvases overhead in preparation for the beating heat. Most of them were enslaved, waiting for their masters to arrive once the day's business was underway. She was ignored as she walked through them but she felt a spark of attention follow her, though she did not see nor feel any eyes upon her. It would not do any of them any favours for them to acknowledge each other.
She found Kuna on her usual patch, already set up.
"What do you think?" Kuna asked as she drew close.
Ahsoka whistled low when she saw what Kuna had laid out before her. A droid, a fairly recent X-series from Dakar and in decent condition, as well as a solid looking processing unit.
"Impressive." She said, kneeling down beside them. The droid was powered down, eyes dim and head canted down. Its serial number had been buffed off but she made no comment. She looked around but no one was paying them any attention. "How much did you pay for these?" She asked lowly.
Kuna looked at her anxiously before checking their surroundings for herself. "About a third of what I think they could be worth." She said in a rush. "I looked at them myself but could you make sure they're functional? Just a check! I can't be caught selling faulty circuits."
Ahsoka looked at her, hard. "Are they faulty?"
Kuna worried her lip, "I don't think so. But…"
Ahsoka waved her off. "I'll check." It didn't take long to pry off the casing and check the droid. Some wear and tear, a patch job over the central processing board but a well executed one; overall in working condition. Kuna's attention flitted between watching her work and the patrons of the market place. Ahsoka finished quickly.
"They're good." She told her, to Kuna's obvious relief. She didn't protest when Kuna handed her her canteen though she took the shallowest sip she could manage. "You can sell them. You should be able to turn a decent profit on them too. Just…sell them quickly." She looked once more at the panel where the eight digit serial number should be.
Kuna nodded quickly. "I don't know what came over me." She said, eyes wide. "I saw a Spacer outside Mandrell cantina last night trying to fence them before he went off planet and I'd bought them before I even thought about what I was going to do with them."
Ahsoka frowned, "Why was he trying to get rid of them?" She asked.
"People are getting nervous." She said, "Lotta people trying to cut their losses and sell off anything that might make them any trouble before the new taxes come into effect."
"They're going ahead with it then?"
"Announced it last night. All imports and exports off planet have to be declared and taxed accordingly."
Ahsoka held back a snort. "Yeah, I can imagine that might make a few people around here nervous."
The pall she'd noted over the market previously made a little sense now, as did the desperation to be on the up and up. It would calm down, she was sure, when they realised that Palpatine's new Empire had far more important things to worry about than a little backwater like this. But, nonetheless, she felt the weight of it settle back across her, though she told herself once more that nothing had changed.
"They said something about…sumptuary tax? I don't know what that means."
"Taxing luxury goods." Ahsoka said absently, "What luxury goods does Tatooine even have?"
"I'll find the holo-vid. I barely understood half of it."
She let Kuna search through the recent transmissions on her holo-projector and was saved from having to say anything by a soft chime. She looked at her commlink, reading the latest update.
She sighed. "Sorry Kuna, I have to go. The storm's been upgraded again. I'm going to have to go and pull the kids out of school before they get stuck there."
"Found it!" Kuna said, straightening up.
She put the projector between them and pressed play. Ahsoka wished she could leave, turn her back on the image of Palpatine and pretend she hadn't seen it, but she couldn't. She couldn't look away. She listened as he allowed his generals, his moffs, his puppets and play things declare their new order. His face was in shadow, only the lower half clear but she could see enough. She didn't know how long before talk eventually began to taxation, extending past the core, the Mid-Rim, the Outer Rim. She barely listened as she watched him. He was utterly still, the pretence of an affable old man gone, and in his place a predator. He inclined his head, only briefly, when that same black droid she had seen in the last transmission came into view, positioning itself at his elbow.
The sound was tinny but understandable as one of the newly appointed ministers carried on, "-sanctions will be imposed against systems which are deemed to be non-compliant-"
"I should go." Said Ahsoka.
Kuna nodded but didn't look away from the transmission, frowning intently as though she were trying to pull its meaning from the wavering image.
"-under our glorious Emperor and the esteemed Lord-"
Ahsoka pocketed her commlink and made to leave.
"-Vader."
Her blood froze.
"What did he just say?" She asked numbly.
If Kuna noticed her reaction she didn't say anything. "Lord Vader," She said distractedly, "the one in the armour."
She didn't want to look. She couldn't.
She looked.
The droid- no, Vader, inclined his head at the mention of his name. What she had first taken for machine was not, that unwieldy mass of armour, that menacing shadow that lurked behind Palpatine, surely it couldn't be, it wasn't-
She had known Anakin was alive for four years. The mere mention of him had sent her fleeing across the galaxy. In her memories he was as she had last seen him, even after all this time, skin tanned, hair too long and cheeks too hollow, though lifted by what could have been a smile. She had preserved him in her memory, pressed between one page and the next. For a moment all she could think about was Master Obi-Wan, that terrible wound that had bloodied his robes and stopped his breath. She had known all along that Anakin had done that to him, but she had never considered what blows Master Obi-Wan must have dealt in return.
She had imagined, perhaps, in her darkest musings, the yellow eyes of the Sith. She hadn't imagined this.
"I have to….the children…" She managed before she turned and fled.
She hurried through the market, pushing passersby to the wayside. She all but threw herself into the speeder and locked the door behind her with a shaking hand. Her head dropped to the wheel as she struggled to gain control over herself. She had the strange feeling that she was going to vomit, that that sudden and icy fear that had flooded her was pooling in her stomach, making her want to retch. She took a deep breath and released it through her mouth.
Nothing has changed, she told herself, everything is as it was.
She had no reason to fear taxes or economic sanctions. Anakin had no idea where she was or that his children even existed. Palpatine had no reason to send him here. Nothing had changed.
And yet she had seen him, the gleam of durasteel and plastoid, the mask that hid his face. Was he still under there? Was there still some part of him that lurked beneath that armour, burned and mutilated, but human still?
She started the speeder.
Now was not the time.
She did not feel the passage of time as she sped across the desert. She ignored the shake in her hands and the impulse to kill the engine and simply sit where no one could see her. She tried not to feel anything at all. She kept her breathing even and her mind as still as she was able. When she drew close to Reta Darklighter's abode she allowed herself to reach out, to feel the burning bright present of the twins in the Force ahead of her. She gathered herself enough to paste a smile on her face by the time she knocked on Reta's door.
"Ashla." Reta said as she greeted her, "You heard about the storm then?"
Ahsoka forced her tone to remain light. "I thought it best to take them home before it hits. Just in case."
Reta looked over her shoulder and Ahsoka followed her gaze. There was a growing dimness on the horizon, too far out yet to pose a threat to them but it wouldn't be much longer. Her smile was fixed when she turned back.
Reta had turned back to the house but Ahsoka waited on the doorstep. She heard Reta call for Luke and Leia and from how quickly they reached the door, possessions already packed, she guessed that she wasn't the first parent to arrive early that day.
"Are you sure you won't prefer to wait out the storm here?" Reta was asking, "We have the space."
It was a kind offer but Ahsoka was barely listening. Luke and Leia didn't look like they were paying much attention but she reached for them, a hand on each one of their shoulders. She could feel the delicate bones beneath her hand. She wanted them safe, away from anyone that could pose them any threat, where she could defend them with everything she had.
"Thank you." Said Ahsoka, "But we'll be going now."
She led the twins away quickly, and hoped that Reta would attribute her manner to anxiety about the storm. They were unusually quiet as she buckled them into the speeder. They barely spoke as she turned towards the gathering darkness and gunned the engine.
It wasn't a great distance but the wind was already picking up by the time she pulled up to the homestead.
"Get in the house!" She called over the wind as she got the car under cover. She was barely a moment behind them and slammed the door shut, barring it as she went.
"Leia, go make sure all the windows were closed. Luke, go get the rags for under the doors."
They ran off to their familiar tasks as Ahsoka ran through their usual checks before a storm. The speeder was undercover, the vaporator dealt with and the light well sealed. She checked the children's work surreptitiously, but needlessly. She stood in the middle of the room and turned a slow circle.
They were safe. They were hidden.
She closed her eyes and drew a breath. When she opened them the children were watching her from the doorway to their bedroom. They were holding hands.
She tried to smile. "You both okay?"
"Yes." Said Luke, his voice small. For a moment he stood with his sister before dropping her hand and running at Ahsoka. He collided with her legs and clung to her. It was difficult to get him to loosen his grip so she could bend and return his hug but she managed.
"Hey now." She said softly, "What's wrong? We're okay. The storm's outside, we're safe in here." But Luke just shook his head and clung tighter.
Ahsoka looked up at Leia, uncharacteristically still hovering in the doorway.
"What's wrong?" She asked again, gently.
Leia shuffled her feet before coming over too, slower than her brother.
"You were sad." Leia said. "We felt it. You were sad before you came to get us." Her lower lip wobbled. "You're sad now."
Ahsoka dropped to one knee and looked at them both. "I'm not sad, see?" She smiled at them, "I'm not sad now I'm with you." She gathered Leia in her arms too and held them both. She bent her head and waited as they hugged her back as tightly as their arms could manage.
The wind picked up outside. The children shifted nervously.
"Come on then." She said, pulling back. She found she was smiling, smaller, but more genuinely. She felt more stable with both of them within arms reach. "Time to hunker down."
It had been their custom since that first storm to spend the night cuddled up on Ahsoka's bed as they waited for the storm to pass overhead. She watched as they ran into their own bedroom and heard them pulling the blankets off their beds.
The wind howled outside. She looked up.
"Ready?" She called.
They reappeared with a bundle of blankets between them and she had almost put it from her mind when an alrighty crash of thunder came from overhead. Leia shrieked and Luke looked fit to run. Ahsoka gave a disbelieving laugh. She made her way over the locked door, unbarring it, her hand on the handle.
"Auntie Ash, don't-"
She threw it open and looked outside.
A thunderstorm, a true thunderstorm. Rain came lashing down from the sky, slanting from the pitch dark sky above. She laughed again, disbelieving. She had heard of the desert rains in the Wastes but she had never seen one for herself. The air was cool and and fresh in a manner which she hadn't felt since she had moved out into the desert where the suns baked everything from the ground to the inhabitants. She held a hand out of the door and closed her eyes as she felt the water hit her palm.
She had to feel more of it. She stepped over the threshold and felt the rain on her skin, felt the cool water hit her montrals, land on her upturned face and slide down her collar. She laughed again, she felt wild with it. It felt like being made anew.
Peeking out from the doorway she saw Luke and Leia, watching with wide eyes. They had never seen rain before, she realised, not once in their whole lives had they known rain on their skin. As she watched Leia slowly reached her hand through the door before snatching it back. She watched as Luke visibly steeled himself before running out of the house, running to her and clutching her hand as though she could anchor him to the sand against the storm overhead. She grinned at him.
"Don't be scared, Luke. It's only rain."
She saw the fear seep from his little body as his hair plastered against his forehead. Without looking she held a hand out to Leia and, after a moment, felt another little hand slip into hers.
She gave them a moment to feel the rain as she had, to see their world expand just a little, before she bundled them back inside. After that came the chaos of finding dry clothes, towelling of Luke as he tried to escape and brushing out Leia's hair from her braid. But still, it was not long until they were all sat upon her bed, nestled in every blanket they had in the house.
The children had looked at her expectantly when they were settled and she knew what they were after, though she made a production of letting them convince her. Her new stories were much in demand.
She told the story of her first hunt on Shili, sanitised so that she didn't give scare either of them overmuch. She needn't have worried it turned out, Luke listened, rapt, as she described the Akul and tracking it through the grassland that surrounded her village. He cheered when she told them how she had hunted it singlehandedly, trekking miles from the village before killing it so it couldn't hurt anyone else. It was a fairytale to them, something far removed from anything they had ever known or were likely to know. She left out the villagers that had been killed before her and the terrible teeth that had come within an inch of ending her life. She left out how that night had been the very first time she had ever consciously used the Force. For a moment she wished she still had her headdress to show them. She thought that Leia would have enjoyed it.
When she came to the end of her story she paused. The storm was truly overhead now though neither child seemed much afraid anymore. The sensation of cool air wouldn't leave her. She didn't know if it reminded her of Coruscant or if the holo-transmission had simply made everything feel terribly close.
"Can you tell it again, Auntie?" Asked Luke, pulling at her hand.
Perhaps it was time.
They were still young, young enough to accept whatever she told them. It would be so easy to keep these stories within her, to tell herself they were too painful to tell, too much for children to hear. She could stay silent, tell herself for years and years that the children weren't old enough, soon they would be but not yet. She could tell herself that stories from the slaves would come soon, stories of Ekkreth and gods and the desert, that there was no need for her stories as well.
She could, but she wouldn't.
"How would you like to hear a story about your parents instead?" She asked carefully.
"We don't have parents." Said Leia, a rote line that she had known all her life, with no particular sadness attached to it.
Ahsoka looked down at the two of them. There was Padmé's nose, Anakin's hair. There were their children.
"You did once." Ahsoka pulled them in closer, "Would you like to hear about them?"
She started as far back as she knew, the grandmother whose grave they saw every time they visited their aunt and uncle. Perhaps they were too young to know what all of it meant, and she knew that she would tell this particular story many times over during the coming years but she started listened, wide eyed, as she walked them through their history. They did not question why she paused or cleared her throat, they did not know enough to wonder why she smiled, or why she stopped. They made her describe Padmé three times. They were enraptured when she described Anakin to them. She made them laugh when she told them about how much trouble he would get in when Master Obi-Wan would scold them both.
She talked until her voice was hoarse from overuse and their eyelids drooped. Leia dropped off first, slumped against Ahsoka's side. She eased her into laying down and watched as Luke shuffled down of his own accord. His eyes were almost closed but he looked up at her blearily.
"And you loved our dad?" He asked when she finally stopped whispering to them.
Ahsoka smiled at him, stroked a finger down his nose. "I loved your dad."
"And that's why you're our aunt?" He asked, eyes closing.
"That's why I'm your aunt." She echoed.
His eyes closed and he did not open them again. Her heart ached but it was a feeling that she knew well, and it was not as sharp as it could have been. It felt as though she had exhausted her emotions until they were dull and muted. It felt like when, a lifetime ago, she would release her emotions into the Force and let them be carried far away from her. The pain would come back, she knew, this particular would have to be lanced again and again, but perhaps some of the joy would not be entirely forgotten either.
One night, many years ago, before she had ever considered that the War could ever end, she had been sandwiched onto a troop transport and sat between Anakin and Master Obi-Wan. They had been talking over her head and she had thought that she had been doing a good job of pretending to be alert until she felt Anakin place Master Obi-Wan's wadded up cloak onto his shoulder and pull her head down to rest against it. She had given up trying to pretend at that point and fell asleep to the sound of tactics being discussed without her and the rowdy laughter of identical voices. She had slept soundly for the first time in a long time.
She looked down at the two children asleep on either side of her. It reminded her a little of that night as she looked at Luke with the blankets pulled up to his chin, and Leia curled up into a ball.
Three lost children, she thought to herself and tried to keep the hysterical bubble of laughter trapped in her throat.
She would tell them the stories, stories about Anakin and Padmé, Master Plo and Master Obi-Wan and deal with the pain it caused because they deserved every scrap of them she could give them.
The pain she could deal with, especially with the children close by and safe, and especially when not all of the joy was yet leeched from remembering their faces. But memory was mutable, and more than anything she wished she could keep it still, to preserve it like crystal. But not everything belonged to the past completely, and the news of Vader had disturbed her memory like a stick through silted water. She could tell the children about Padmé, about Anakin, but when she tried to remember them herself…she couldn't keep it straight in her head. It was either Vader telling her he would never let anything hurt her, or it was Anakin, stalking through the shadows of the Temple laying waste in his wake.
It wasn't something she was going to be able to solve tonight.
In the kitchen she had left her holo-projector. She could go and get it right now— see all of the transmissions for herself, try and delineate the edges of her master, or Vader, and where the two bled into each other. Or if there was anything familiar to her even left. She could sit there and delve into it, she could read the articles and try and parse the meanings that were hidden between the lines. She could get up and surfeit herself on it.
But Leia was tucked so tightly into her side and she could hear Luke snuffle in his sleep as he turned over.
She stayed where she was.
Outside the the storm, the terrible whistling winds and the driving rain, abated.