Private Blood from a Stone

[Corazona von Ascania]

“So the ends are justifying the means,” she considered. That did seem fairly Sith. And imperial. Could one determined man turn everything on its head? Stranger things had certainly happened.

“Of course you’re not stupid. But you’re not infallible. No one is - not my brother, not myself, not Fatine. Right now, you’re telling me what will happen if everything falls under your control. But what if it doesn’t?”

Cora frowned - it wasn’t an expression entirely made of disapproval. A healthy amount of concern for Acier as a person had woven itself into the grave features of her face.

“I can admire wanting to prevent another catastrophe instead of doing damage control after the fact, but it doesn’t sound to me like you’re trying to sink the Covenant - it sounds like you’re trying to reshape it into something that works for your own ideals.“

Like a proper Sith.

“Ideals that you’ve been fairly vague about. I don’t begrudge you for not wanting to tell me everything that’s going on inside your head, but understand that it makes you difficult to trust. Sith don’t exactly have a history of staying true to their w-“

A muffled cry emanated from somewhere beneath the table. Cora’s brow furrowed, letting her speech die in favor of fiddling with the datapad in her lap.

“Ah,” she said. “Someone’s awake.”

She looked back up to Ace. By Ashla, he was young. He held himself like he was older, but he couldn’t hide the youth to his features.

Cora pushed her chair back from the table as she rose.

“Would you like to meet her?”

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis - Von Ascania Manor

Equipment:
Nightwear | Cybernetic Arm

"Yes."

He said it without hesitation. The ends justified the means. Always. Ace had learned that long before the Covenant. Bonadan didn't give you the luxury of ideals, it gave you results or consequences. The galaxy hadn't contradicted that lesson. If anything, it reinforced it. The Covenant had only sharpened it further.

Cora's questions weren't wrong, though. The what ifs. The gaps. The lack of guarantees. He'd already turned those over himself more times than he could count. Failure wasn't some distant possibility. It was expected. He'd learned that too.

Thrantin flickered briefly through his mind, his conversation with Lysander months ago. A similar argument, but the same concerns. Lysander had dismissed them, said he couldn't afford to think that way.

Ace never agreed. Planning for failure was the only reason you survived it... but he didn't say any of that out loud. He just listened, patiently waiting to explain.

But then a sound cut through the quiet, small and muffled. Ace's head turned instantly, body tightening without thought as his attention snapped toward it. His posture shifted, subtle but immediate, awareness sharpening as instinct took over. The sound of something vulnerable, something that couldn't defend itself...

His mind filled in the gaps before it needed to. Danger. Something wrong. He was already bracing to move, but then Cora spoke. Her tone was calm, almost routine.

The tension in him eased, not all at once, but enough. A quiet exhale slipped from him as the edge dulled, his stance settling back into something less reactive, but still all the more alert.

Then she looked at him, what she said next caught him off guard. Completely. His eyes shifted to her quickly, a flicker of surprise breaking through the otherwise steady composure.

"I…" His words stalled there for a second. "…okay."

He stood, pushing back from the table and falling in step with her without hesitation. His attention drifted ahead again, back toward where the cry had come from.

"She alright? Does she need anything?"

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's lips pursed in faintly withheld amusement. Ashla, this Acier was one of the most serious teenagers she'd ever encountered. He hadn't flinched under the scrutiny of his girlfriend's elder sister, but the cry of a baby knocked him off kilter.

"She's alright," Cora insisted quietly as they made their way down the dimly lit corridor. Lingering, tired delight tinged her voice. "Probably just hungry or in need of a change. When you become a parent, you can tell the difference between an 'I'm hurt' and an 'I want something' cry."

She was careful to open the nursery door, but the hinges squeaked regardless. Ascania manor was centuries old, and many aspects of modern technology hadn't yet made its way into the family home.

With a gentle wave of her hand, Cora bid Acier to follow her as she stepped closer to the bassinet. It was made of sturdy, ornately carved wood.

She had slept there once, long ago. Lysander, too.

Luciana's little wails began to lose steam as she was lifted into her mother's arms. "Oh, there we go," she cooed. "What's the matter, hmm?"

The babe curled one tiny fist into the collar of her mother's tunic. She turned her head, throwing moonlight over dark, wispy curls.

"Not hungry," Cora murmured as she checked over her daughter. "And she's dry."

Lifting her head toward Acier, she smiled. "I think she just wants to be held."

The mother swayed, gently bouncing her child while one hand rubbed along her little back in slow, soothing circles.

Wide blue eyes stared at Acier with the unabashed intensity that only a child could produce.

"Would you like to hold her?"

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis - Von Ascania Manor

Equipment:
Nightwear | Cybernetic Arm

Ace didn't move at first when Cora asked. The question landed strangely, not because of Luciana, but because of everything wrapped around her.

When you become a parent…

His gaze dipped, something uncertain flickering behind the composure. Cora's words had been playing on his mind ever since she'd said them. Ace had never really thought about it. Not seriously. A future like that had always felt… distant. Conditional.

A father. The idea sat wrong. Could someone like him even be one? He didn't know what that looked like. He hadn't been raised by one. His own father was more shadow than man, more warning than example. And his mother…

She had loved him enough to run. Enough to let him go. But what he had left of her wasn't whole. Just fragments. Feelings he couldn't prove were real.

Still, he stepped forward. When Cora placed Luciana in his arms, Ace adjusted instinctively. One arm supporting, the other steadying. His posture changed, not softened, just… focused differently.

She was tiny. That was what hit first. A quiet breath left him as he looked at her, dark wisps of hair, wide blue eyes, slow uneven breathing, small movements without awareness or fear.

Then Orryn surfaced. Not clearly... never clearly. Just impressions. Warmth. Being held. Something close, something safe... before the galaxy had a chance to touch him. He'd never known if those were real. Or something he'd made up after.

Holding Luciana now, he wondered.

Was I ever this small in her arms?

A small breath of a laugh slipped out. Barely there. Was this really how it was supposed to be? Not war. Not survival. Not constant calculation. This. A child in someone's arms. A quiet room. A life that hadn't been touched yet.

His eyes stayed on her. Untouched... That was the word. No empires. No orders. No violence. Just… possibility. And something in him tightened at that.

New life was precious. Pure in a way nothing else stayed. His focus sharpened as he imagined her older. Growing up without any of it. Without the galaxy reaching for her. Without needing to become something hard just to survive.

And then the thought turned. Because that kind of galaxy didn't exist on its own. It had to be made.

Moments like this didn't pull him away from what he was doing. They justified it. A baby like Luciana was exactly why order had to be brought to the galaxy. Not the kind that reacted after the damage was done, but the kind that stopped it before it ever reached her.

His gaze lifted slightly, distant for a second, then returned to her. One part of him saw something sacred. The other saw one more reason not to fail.

"…Hi." He said quietly, voice softer without thinking.

He looked down at her for another moment, then glanced up toward Cora.

"How do you… keep it like this?"

The question came slower than the rest of his words had all night. Like he was choosing each part of it carefully. His gaze flicked briefly back to Luciana before returning to Cora.

"...Safe, I mean. Without turning everything into something it's not."

Corazona von Ascania ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

“Careful, now,” Cora murmured as she transitioned her daughter into Ace’s arms. He was still stiff enough for the sight to look terribly awkward - but charming, in its own way.

Luciana’s attention remained on her mother, blue eyes following the shape of her hair and the sound of her voice even in the dim lighting. When Ace exhaled something adjacent to a laugh, the babe’s fickle focus flicked up to the strange face that now held her. She squirmed once in unfamiliar arms, nestled against an unfamiliar heartbeat, then settled for the moment.

Cora looked on, quiet, as Acier seemed to be both lost in his own thoughts and present within the experience of holding Lysander’s niece. Had her brother told him about the girl? The silence was profound, and it wasn’t made any less so by his sudden question.

The blonde scrunched her brow in thought.

“Well, I try to look at things as they are. What do you mean by ‘turning everything into something it’s not’?”

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis - Von Ascania Manor

Equipment:
Nightwear | Cybernetic Arm

Ace caught it immediately. Cora hadn't answered him. Not really. She'd taken his question, turned it slightly, and handed it back. Whether that was intentional or not… he couldn't tell. And that bothered him more than it should have.

He didn't respond at first. His gaze dropped instead, settling on Luciana in his arms. Blue eyes. He studied them a moment longer than necessary, noting the resemblance without needing it pointed out. There were pieces of Cora there already. In the shape. In the quiet way she settled after that initial resistance.

Then there was something else. Subtle. But not nothing. The Force brushed against his awareness, not loud or insistent, but a faint pull of a current beneath still water. Potential. Untouched. Unformed. He didn't react to it outwardly, but it registered, filed away with everything else he noticed and didn't say.

Then his eyes lifted back to Cora.

"How do you keep things safe…" He started, quieter this time, less like a question thrown out and more like something being worked through in real time. His brow tightened faintly, searching for the right way to say it.

"…without corrupting it."

The words hung there for a second before he exhaled, something heavier sitting behind them.

"That's not--" He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly. "That's not what I meant."

His gaze flicked back down to Luciana for half a heartbeat, then returned to Cora. This time, he didn't look away.

"How do you stop the bad things from closing in on people you love…" He said, more plainly now, the edges of it sharpened by something real underneath, "…without becoming a monster yourself."

Ace had always known the kind of love he carried ran deep. Fierce. Uncompromising. The sort that didn't hesitate when it came to protecting the people he cared about. He would do whatever it took. He already had.

But this… this was different. Cora was a mother, and even he could recognize that kind of love for what it was. Something deeper. Broader. Almost immovable. It felt… close to the Force itself.

Which only made the question sit heavier. Because he couldn't see how morals, even a Jedi's, survived what the galaxy demanded.

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora looked on, giving Acier the space to work through his clarification. Her gaze tilted towards the window, where streaks of silvery moonlight played along bare tree limbs. With the contrast, you could see the shadows of little buds dotting each branch.

A herald of spring.

"Do you think that monsters are the only ones who can protect?"

A breathy, half-hearted little sigh left her, because she knew what he was asking. What was that saying? Die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

"I have people keeping me in check. People who are honest - who care for both me and her - who haven't been afraid to call me out when I do something questionable."

Cora lifted her head and brought Ace back into the center of her attention. Slowly, but wholly.

"I would do anything to protect her. Perhaps, one day, I'll have to forgo Jedi teachings to do that. I hope not.”

Cora's gaze slipped down to Lucy, one little hand grasping for the nearest ashen lock of hair. It was the way that Ace held her which captured the mother's attention; uncertain but reverent. Something precious.

"I do wonder how you can you look at her how you are, and still insist on supporting an ideology that has made an untold amount of mothers cry for the children they've lost."

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis - Von Ascania Manor

Equipment:
Nightwear | Cybernetic Arm

Cora's first question lingered and he turned it over quietly, not dismissing it, but not resisting it either. A "monster," to him, had never meant mindless cruelty. It meant someone willing to cross lines others wouldn't. Someone who could do what was necessary when everything else failed. So… yes. He just didn't say it like that.

Luciana shifted faintly in his arms, and Ace adjusted her without looking, one hand steadying her against his chest. The movement was careful, a small reminder of the life still resting in his hold.

Cora's words about having people to keep her in check stayed with him longer than he expected. For a moment, faces passed through his mind.

Sibylla. Lorn. He'd brought them into his orbit for that exact reason. People who could challenge him. Ground him. But even then… that only went so far. At the end of it, the decisions were still his. They always had been.

His gaze lowered again as Luciana's tiny hand caught in one of his ashen locs. He didn't react, didn't pull away. Just let her hold it, fingers curling and uncurling with quiet curiosity.

Cora wasn't naïve, at least. He gave her that. She understood there might come a point where her ideals wouldn't hold. Where she'd have to choose. It meant she wasn't blind.

Her last words, though, they gave him pause. His pinky shifted slightly, hovering just close enough for Luciana to latch onto if she wanted. His eyes stayed on her as he spoke.

"Mothers have been crying for their kids long before the Covenant came along." His voice stayed calm. "Places like where I'm from… there's no ideology. No Sith. No Jedi."

He shook his head slightly.

"Just people hurting each other because they can. Or because they have to." He paused. "Seen kids disappear over less than a handful of credits. Seen people get used up and thrown out like scrap. No Order or Republic came to save us. Some of them didn't even have anyone left to cry for them."

He adjusted Luciana in his arms, settling her.

"You've got people to keep you in check. That's good. I didn't. Not where it counted." His thumb shifted absently against the fabric around Luciana. "Where I grew up, you don't get to wonder if something feels wrong. You do what works… or you don't last long enough to regret it."

He briefly cast a glance around the room

"You grew up with all this. Maybe that's why you think there's a better way." Then, his gaze fell back to Luciana. "I see it and think… if I hesitate... someone else won't..."

Ace met Cora's eyes again, staying on her this time.

"...someone who doesn't care about rules. Or morality."

Ace let what he said settle for a moment, before adding one last question.

"You asked how I could look at her and still push that ideology. How can you tell me you'd do anything to protect her, then act like it's different when I'm willing to do the same for Fatine and my loved ones?"

Corazona von Ascania
​

​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora didn’t move to intervene when tiny fingers curled around Acier's hair. For a few long moments, they simply felt the texture of something new, ignoring the proffered pinky.

She couldn’t imagine what he had gone through because, well, she hadn’t. They’d been raised in fundamentally different worlds, and there was value in their contrast. Idly, she wondered if Makko Vyres would be able to provide Acier with the sort of understanding that came only from experience - her husband had been effectively orphaned at a young age, and spent his early years fighting for survival within the brutal gang culture of Denon’s poorest district. Based on what he'd told her so far, she estimated that Ace had come up in roughly the same environment.

“You’re right,” she acknowledged, gesturing to the nursery - to her home - as a whole. Ancient stonework wasn’t luxurious, but it was austere and stalwart. A symbol of the nobility that had endured in the Ascania line for hundreds, thousands of years on Ukatis. “I grew up with this - with security. I never had to fight for my meals, or worry about where I was going to sleep. I can sympathize with you, but I can’t truly understand it.”

“But,” she added, “the love, warmth and protection was something I had to cultivate. Everything here might look nice, but it came with its own set of rules you had to learn for survival. Rules that she won’t have to play by.”

Cora didn’t motion towards the infant, who was curiously curling and uncurling her grip on the stark-white lock of hair. It was left up to Acier to interpret whether she meant Lucy, or Fatine. Or both.

Then, her voice lowered, soft and kind, edged with a distant sort of pain that she never seemed to be able to shake:

“I don't know what you've been through, and I can imagine that what I’ve been through can’t compare - but I do know what it is to suffer in circumstances beyond your control.”

Horace’s face flashed through her mind, as if always did. Perfect teeth pulled into a sneer as he scored shame and humiliation deep into the marrow of her bones where it resonated even after everything else had healed.

Cora’s teeth graze at the inside corner of her lip. “There’s a difference,” she added quietly, “between a hypothetical scenario in which I forsake Jedi teachings to protect my child from danger, and actively participating in a war machine that has killed and displaced millions.”

Lucy chose that moment to yank on Acier’s hair with the unprecedented strength that seemed to be packaged into every small, fragile baby.

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis - Von Ascania Manor

Equipment:
Nightwear | Cybernetic Arm

Ace didn't react when she agreed with him. He'd didn't need validation for things he already knew. His eyes followed her gesture instead, taking in the nursery and the quiet weight of a home that had endured long before either of them were born.

But when she continued - rules… survival - something in his expression shifted subtly. Fatine. She didn't talk about her childhood much. Neither did he. But he'd seen enough, heard enough between the lines to know her life hadn't been as simple as it looked. Not just comfort. Not just ease.

"...You're right."

It came quiet, without resistance. When Cora spoke about rules that she wouldn't have to live by, his gaze dipped briefly to Luciana. He took it as her. It was probably better that way.

As Cora continued, his attention shifted again this time to her right hand. The metallic one. His eyes lingered there for a moment, not staring, just… noting. Filing it alongside everything else she'd revealed without saying outright. She knew something about suffering. Not the same as his, but it wasn't nothing.

Her last point, though. Hypotheticals vs active participation. He understood where she was coming from. But that was the problem. Her defense was that her actions would be reactive, a last resort, crossing the line when there was no other choice. By the time you were forced into that choice… it was already too late. Damage was done and the lines would be crossed anyway. Just slower.

His thoughts moved quickly, lining up the way they always did now. If something was inevitable, waiting for it only made it worse. Stopping it before it reached that point? That was the only way to actually protect anything. Anything else was just… clean up.

He was forming the response until Luciana yanked his hair. A sharp hiss slipped through his teeth before he could stop it. His head tilted instinctively with the pull, trying to ease the tension without jarring her.

In the moment, it felt worse than any hit he'd ever taken from Arris Windrun . His jaw tightened slightly as he adjusted his posture, still holding Luciana steady despite the awkward angle his neck had been forced into. He didn't pull away, he simply endured it. But there was a limit.

"…What do I do here?"

The question came out calm but there was something under it. Unfamiliarity. A lack of footing. His eyes flicked back to Cora, one brow tightening slightly.

"You can… take her back now."

There was the faintest hint of something there. Not quite embarrassment. Not quite defeat. Just the quiet acknowledgment that this... this wasn't something he knew how to handle.

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Again, pensive silence fell between the pair. Acier listened, quiet and solemn.

It would take a while, Cora figured, for the both of them to truly absorb this conversation. Just as her tired thoughts began to wander into the moonlight, Luciana insisted on a sharp reminder of her presence.

"Oh," Cora pressed fingertips against the twitching line of her smile, stifling an unfeminine snort. Tiny cackles emanated from the bundle in Ace’s arms.

Acier was like ice. Calm, grim, sure of himself - and he'd been knocked off kilter twice by a four month old. Children had a way of bringing out parts of a person they'd rather keep hidden, as Cora and her husband had learned over the past sixteen weeks.

Instead of moving to reclaim her child, Cora remain where she was, adjacent to the crib. She swallowed down the laughter that bubbled in her throat.

"Take her wrist," she instructed, quietly amused, "and bend it forward gently. She should let go."

Without knowing specifics, it was evident that Acier had lived a harsh life bereft of a soft touch. Yet, instinct told her that he would have no trouble being gentle.

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Ukatis - Von Ascania Manor

Equipment:
Nightwear | Cybernetic Arm

Ace didn't move at first, still caught in the awkward angle Luciana had forced him into, her small fingers wound stubbornly through his hair. Cora's voice cut through it, calm, measured. Instruction, not correction.

He followed it without question. Carefully, he shifted one hand, organic fingers closing gently around Luciana's wrist. There was a moment of hesitation, this still felt foreign, every part of it. But he did exactly as she said, bending it forward just enough.

The tension eased and her grip loosened. Ace slipped his hair free without pulling, without rushing, easing back just slightly as the pressure left his scalp. A quiet exhale followed, more felt than heard.

He adjusted her after. One arm steady beneath her, the other supporting, shifting her just enough so she sat comfortably against him. Secure, but out of reach of his hair.

Ace let out a low breath, shoulders loosening a fraction as the moment passed. His gaze lingered on her for a second longer before drifting, not far, just enough to think.

Cora wasn't what he'd expected. Not from a Jedi. Not from her. He'd half-expected judgment. Distance. Some quiet, polished disapproval... of him, of what he was, of what he represented. A Sith. A stranger. Someone from a life far removed from theirs. And a "commoner," on top of it.

Instead, she'd been… patient. Measured. Thoughtful in a way that didn't feel rehearsed. She didn't agree with him, that much was obvious, but she hadn't dismissed him either. She'd tried to understand. That part… sat strangely with him. Not unwelcome. Just… unfamiliar.

His eyes lifted back toward her, quieter now. Less guarded, if only by a margin.

"Thanks."

The word came simple, without weight behind it, but not empty either.

"She's… easy, when you know what you're doing."

It was an observation, spoken like he was still figuring it out as he went. He glanced back down at Luciana briefly, then toward the cradle, then back to Cora again.

"She probably wants you."

It wasn't said like he was eager to hand her off. Just… acknowledging where she belonged. It was getting late... or early. The weight of everything they'd said hadn't quite settled yet but tiredness was beginning to creep in, and he imagined it wasn't just him.

Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

A slow smile bloomed over the tired lines of Cora's face when she watched Ace extract himself from the tiny, iron grip of a little tyrant. Careful, methodical, almost reverent.

It helped that the girl's mother was lingering only a foot or so away.

Luciana raised tiny half-curled fists to her eyes, and rubbed the backs of her hands against her brow - or as best she could, with such limited control over her extremities. Still, the gesture was easily recognizable.

"Oh, come here, love," Cora cooed as she gently took her child from Acier. Now in familiar arms, Lucy's chin rested against her mother's shoulder.

For about a minute, Cora simply swayed on her feet. She hummed the softy melody of an old Ukatian lullaby, absently trying to picture the woman who'd once murmured it to her. Had it been her own mother, or a governess?

"I won't tell you to leave my sister," she whispered. Her lips pressed to the crown of Luciana's head, but her eyes lifted toward Acier. "We both know that if I try to forbid this, she'll only throw herself into danger."

Lucy inhaled sharply through her nose. Little fingers curled into the collar of her mother's shirt, and Cora stopped swaying for a moment. Then, her daughter relaxed.

Cora let out a quiet huff. Slowly, she lowered Lucy down into her crib.

"Just don't do anything that puts her in danger," she muttered.

Once the baby was settled, Cora straightened. She'd half expected Ace to spit vitriol against the Jedi, but he at least seems thoughtful. More than that, he was young and perhaps, deep down, hurt. Not by any one person, but by corcumstance.

Perhaps he would change his mind, perhaps not. Still, Cora fixed him with her full depth of her attention and spoke softly:

"If you ever decide that this isn't the path - then reach out to me. I will answer."

Acier Moonbound