Private Balance in Small Things

[Makko Vyres]

LUCIANA

Corazona von Ascania
Makko padded slowly through the dim quiet of the house, bare feet silent against the cool stone.

He couldn't help but think that the old Ukatis house would have benefited from underfloor heating. Not that it would have been on at three in the morning.

Luciana rested against his chest. She was warm and impossibly small, her tiny hand fisted in the fabric near his collarbone. Skin to skin. Makko was wearing pajama trousers and had wrapped a blanket over his shoulders.

He had read that it helped. He didn't much care for any science behind it. He felt closer to his daughter and she was much more likely to fall asleep like this. He swayed gently, instinct clumsy but determined, murmuring nothing words under his breath just to give her something to anchor to besides silence.

Luciana wouldn't remember this. He leaned her back just a fraction to look down at her closed eyes beneath dark curls. Even that slight motion had her draw in a breath and he quickly brought he back close before she could start screaming.

She wouldn't remember this moment, but he would. He had few pleasant memories from his own childhood of his parents. They had been there in body - technically - plugged into the Net. Lost in streams of sensation and data that left no room for a small boy with too much restless energy.

He had learned early how to heat his own meals and how to patch his own cuts.

Makko was learning how to be a father on lesson at a time.

On the sofa across the room, Corazona stirred. The blanket slipped from her shoulder as she blinked awake, blue eyes unfocused at first, then finding them in the half light.

"She's down again," he dared to whisper.

Corazona had brought Luciana out here for a more comfortable position to feed. Makko had followed and walked and bobbed Luciana to try and settle her to give Cora a rest.

He stepped closer to the sofa, careful not to jostle the sleeping bundle against his chest.

"I'm a good human mattress," he said. A faint smile ghosted across his face, but it did not hide the emotion beneath it. He brushed a thumb lightly over Luciana’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall. "I don’t know if I’m doing this right," he admitted quietly.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Makko didn't have to follow her out of the nursery. Cora wouldn't begrudge her husband if he wanted to remain tangled in the sheets, chasing a few more broken hours of desperately needed sleep.

She didn't remember passing out on the couch. Hazy, shadowed shapes blinked into view behind tired eyelids.

Even in the dim lighting, she could make out the line of Luciana's tiny back cradled in Makko's soft touch. Beset by exhaustion in the early hours of the morning, she couldn’t help but find the simple view worth a thousand nights of lost sleep.

Had her father ever held her like that?

"She may be small," Cora murmured while adjusting the straps of her nursing camisole, "but she feeds like a vacuum pump."

She’d been encouraged to hire a wet nurse, because that was how things were done on Ukatis. At least, among aristocratic families.

The last few weeks had been a warpspeed blur of late nights and early mornings. Inconsolable crying blended with the sweetest moments. Cora had never dreamt of this level of exhaustion, nor of this delirious happiness.

Makko's admission came soft and quiet, on the cusp of a tender gesture. Cora drew her legs from the latter half of the couch to make room.

She smiled at the slight bundle pressed to his chest, a little hand curled into the blanket.

"She thinks you are. And so do I."

Cora watched the tiny rise and fall of Luciana's back. Could she even dream yet? If she could, what was she envisioning?

"I miss her when she's asleep," came her whisper.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko smiled and held back a chuckle, careful not to let it jostle the small, sleeping weight against his chest.

"Vacuum pump?" he murmured. He looked down at Luciana. "If you used less energy screaming you might not need as much to eat..."

As a first time parent in the first few weeks of chaos, he immediately felt guilty for saying it.

He stepped closer and eased himself down onto the edge of the couch where Cora had made space. He moved with exaggerated caution as if he were defusing something volatile.

Sometimes moving helped. Sometimes moving woke her up.

Luciana gave a faint sigh but did not wake. Makko stilled instantly, breath caught, until her tiny body settled again into that steady rhythm.

"I miss her when she’s asleep too," he admitted.

He glanced down at their daughter and smiled in silence for a moment.

"When can babies smile?" he asked suddenly. It constantly felt like there were things he didn't know.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora too, held completely still until Lucy settled back against her father's chest.

Then, she nestled her chin gently against the crook of his neck, suppressing the urge to press a kiss to their sleeping daughter's forehead.

"In a few months, I think," she whispered back. They simply sat there in silence, listening to the cadence of Lucy's breathing as if it was the only thing needed to sustain them.

"It feels like we're flailing sometimes, doesn't it?" It was phrased carefully, slowly. Cora had many younger siblings, but she had never been responsible for midnight feedings, changings, and the like. "A part of me was surprise that they just…let us leave the hospital with her."

The nurses had seemed so knowledgeable. They'd assured the couple that Lucy was perfectly healthy, and yes, that they would most likely be fine. They'd settle into a rhythm on their own through the chaos.

Even in the dark, Cora's eyes traced along the shapes of loose, wispy curls. It made her impossibly happy for their daughter to have inherited Makko's hair. She wondered what else their daughter had inherited, and from whom.

"We fought so hard to get here, didn't we?"

Cora couldn't help but think that all the pain they'd endured was worth this singular moment. Exhausted, slightly delirious, but happier and more fulfilled than they'd ever been.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko smiled in silence for a fee seconds. He was imagining Luciana smiling at them both. It was hard to even think of what that would feel like. Just imagining it was almost overwhelming.

"Flailing?" he echoed quietly. "Yeah. That sounds about right."

They had just walked out of the hospital with packs of medicine and an impossibly small baby in a speeder seat.

His hand shifted instinctively, broad palm spanning more of Luciana’s back than seemed possible. She felt impossibly small beneath it. Fragile. She had already upended their entire world with nothing more than a cry and a grip of her fingers.

"Turns out they just hand you a human being and wish you luck."

Luciana stirred at the vibration from the laugh that almost formed. He went very still, but all she did was turn her head to the other side.

His thumb moved in slow circles through the blanket.

When she asked if they had fought hard to get here, his jaw tightened slightly. Not in anger. It was simply Makko passing through all the memories.

"Yeah," he agreed. "We did."

He thought of Denon’s underlevels. He thought about watching her wedding on a small screen.

"I used to think about fighting for survival," he murmured.

"It's about more than that. We fought so we could have our family. Our life. And more for her," Makko said, looking down at Luciana.

"The lift wasn't... Like... So traumatic? We're still going to have more in a few years?"

"Sorry," Makko added. "That sounded so blunt. You know what I mean."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

In the dark, Cora lifted a brow. Silence reigned for a few long seconds, but it wasn't the uncomfortable sort.

"You want more so soon?" she teased.

A few beats passed as she looked down to Luciana. So small, so precious, so very curled against her father. Safe and warm and loved. She would never want for the familial affection her own parents had been denied.

The lift had been traumatic, but with that trauma came the rapture of their daughter. Perfect and healthy, despite the less than ideal birthing suite.

"Yeah," Cora breathed. "I'd like for her to have siblings. Maybe in a few years. Preferably in a hospital bed with a team of doctors and nurses."

Once they were settled with Lucy, they'd introduce the chaos of another baby into their lives. The thought didn't feel as distant in these small hours, somehow.

Does one ever get truly settled with a child?

"You're a good father," she murmured. "Look at how comfortable she is with you." Cora brought her hand to rest against Makko's own as he cradled their daughter. "I just…want to protect her from everything forever."

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

"You want more so soon?" she teased.

A glance of fear was the only answer she needed. They hadn't even been intimate again, let alone truly considered when would be right for another child.

He glanced down at Luciana. He knew they wanted at least one brother or sister for her. That was enough for now.

"You're a good father," she murmured.

Makko’s breath left him slowly when she said it.

The words settled somewhere deep in his chest, somewhere that still remembered cold kitchens and glowing screens and two figures who had been present only as silhouettes.

Makko had never trusted praise easily. But he always hung from every one of Cora's words.

"Thank you," he said quietly. The low sound of his voice didn't seem to disturb Luciana when she was tucked in like this. Already she reacted to their voices and recognised the scent of her parents when she was close.

"I feel like I'm just guessing. But we're doing okay aren't we?"

His thumb kept its slow, careful rhythm against Luciana’s back. He was very aware of the weight of her. The warmth. The steady trust in the way she slept against him without hesitation.

"I don't want her to ever have to think about whether we love her. Not even if she becomes a rebellious teenager."

He swallowed once, jaw tightening for a brief second before it eased again. His gaze shifted to Cora, softer now.

"We won't be able to protect her from everything. But we can give her protection to be whatever she wants to be."

“Well be there for her.”

He glanced down at the dark curls resting against his skin.

"We should see if we can set her down," he said quietly.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora watched the way Makko's thumb brushed over Luciana's back. Steady, like a metronome. Warmth broke through the fatigue and washed over her, and she realized that love did not always need to be perfect. It could be tired and groggy and at three in the morning.

"We'll be there for her," she murmured. "More than what we had growing up."

Unlike Makko, Cora never lacked in resources. She had a warm bed, prepared meals, and protection. But a life of heavy expectation had been met with cold, disassociated parenting.

Cora nodded slowly to Makko's suggestion, but she was slower to move. She stretched before her bare feet found the cold stone floor again, and something in her missed their old apartment on Coruscant.

Luciana's crib had been Cora's own. A sturdy hand-carved wooden piece, made to last through generations of Ascania children.

"Easy now," she whispered, trying her best to pry tiny fingers from the blanket at Makko's collar without waking their daughter.

"How is she so small but so strong?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko grimaced as Luciana was peeled away. In the end he let the blanket go with her.

Makko’s fingers hovered, uncertain for half a second, before he surrendered the blanket with a reluctant exhale. The fabric slid free inch by careful inch, Luciana’s fist resisting with surprising determination.

"She negotiates like me," he whispered.

Her arms flailed once in protest, startlingly strong for something so impossibly small. Makko instinctively leaned closer, broad hand shadowing her as if he could shield her from gravity itself.

He held it again as she was lowered down towards the cot.The carved wood caught a sliver of dim light. Generations of Ascania children had slept there.

Now his daughter would.

Luciana made a soft sound as her back met the mattress. Makko froze entirely. His heart pounded with absurd intensity.

Seconds passed.

She wriggled once, twice, then settled, one hand still loosely clutching the surrendered blanket.

Makko did not move.

He counted three more breaths just to be sure.

Only then did he slowly straighten, exhaling like a man who had just completed delicate surgery.

"Sleep?" he whispered as he stepped back.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora reached down into the crib, slowly as though she would disturb the air around their daughter. Gentle fingertips skimmed along her impossibly soft, though sparse hair before pulling back.

“Good job,” she whispered. Getting Lucy to sleep could sometimes be a whole production.

Before they could retreat entirely, Cora carefully adjusted the bulk of the blanket that Luciana had insisted upon bringing with her. It was pushed mostly to the babe's side, bundled so that it would not accidentally smother her in the night.

“Sleep,” she agreed.

Even as the pair shambled their way back to bed, Cora felt like she was moving through a dream. They’d been on autopilot for the last few weeks, and though she’d suffered significant exhaustion on Jedi missions, she hadn’t been prepared for this level of sleep deprivation.

Aurelian had been right; Luciana was a little tyrant. One that her parents would gladly serve.

“Hey,” Cora called softly. She reached across the tangle of blankets to cradle Makko’s face in her palm. It was a soothing touch, one that she felt anchored them both.

These little moments were as important as they were instinctive.

“How are you doing?”

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko had barely made it halfway into the blankets before the mattress dipped again beside him.

He had already begun to drift into that fragile space between waking and sleep when Cora’s voice pulled him back.

"Hey."

He turned his head slightly into her hand without thinking. Her palm was warm against his cheek. For a moment he simply stayed there, eyes half closed, leaning into the contact.

"Tired," he admitted quietly. No surprises there.

The corner of his mouth twitched faintly.

“But… good. I think.”

He opened his eyes then, focusing on her properly in the dim light. His thumb came up to rest lightly against her wrist where her hand cupped his face, absent-mindedly tracing the edge of her pulse. She was always beautiful. It didn't matter if she was exhausted, wounded, in the middle of passion or a battlefield. She was always perfect.

"I kept kind of trying to imagine this. It felt more real when I felt her kick. But it still kind of felt like something... Ahead. And now we're all here."

A faint smile appeared, tired but genuine.

"I feel like her dad."

"Does that...sound really silly?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Not at all," Cora whispered.

Watching him interact with Luciana - as much as one could interact with a newborn - warmed her in a way that was both new and familiar. Their little family.

Years ago, she couldn't have imagined this. Now, they were here.

Cora's thumb swept over Makko's cheekbone, caressing him to a steady rhythm. They'd chosen Ukatis as their home, and with it had come some unpleasantry and scrutinization of their relationship. It had largely been directed at Makko.

"Thank you," she murmured. "For just…being here."

It sounded like an odd thing today, but it felt right in the moment. "I know that Ukatis hasn't always been the most welcoming place for you," she added. "But I'm grateful that you made the choice to come here. To have our daughter born here."

Makko Vyres