Private The Warm Winter

[Corazona von Ascania]

This winter on Ukatis had been relatively mild.

Mild winter meant earlier planting. Early planting meant higher yields, but an increase in pests. Their harvests were expanding both in number and type, with a projected abundance by the summer months. Success, unfortunately, doesn’t preclude from growing pains.

A mild winter also meant more temperate days.

The last time they had met beneath the oak tree overlooking their childhood home, Cora had been sitting. Wounded, she could only rest her back against its broad, gnarled trunk.

Now, she stood. Stood swaying on her feet, murmuring soft words to the well-wrapped bundle in her arms. Little coos and gurgles floated up from the blankets and bubbled around her heart.

Keeping in touch with Lysander was akin to holding a hot brand. It burned her, yet Cora could not find it in her to let go. It wasn't rational, but familial bonds never claimed to be anything but.

How could he have made the choice to embrace the very same power that had hurt her? That had hurt Ukatis?

Lucy babbled away in her arms, content with the world. Cora would shield her from it if she could, all of it - but she would know her Uncle.

How he wanted to be known by his niece was up to him.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Corazona von Ascania​

Sounds that were impossibly gentle reached his ears; it wasn't Cora, but Luciana, and he found himself slowing. Despite the risk involved, he had only just returned to Ukatis. Madelyn Lowe 's investigation was tightening. Even after obligations upon Oublette were completed, it did little to quell her suspicion.

The Covenant was ever vigilant for a leak, though Lysander never shared information with anyone. Still, his communication with Cora, even if it often felt one-sided, would undoubtedly invite suspicion to the wrong eyes.

Useful as it was, the office in the Senate building on Coruscant could never compare; for someone who longed for life and open air, only this place resembled home. Lysander crested the rise and the oak came into view. He stopped a few paces short. From the glimpse he caught of his niece, something in him tightened; not fear, but something he didn’t quite have a name for..

The breeze snatched at the edges of his jacket. Black.. naturally. Everything was. Unmistakably Sith in every single detail. At his side hung the curved lightsaber hilt. He knew Cora wouldn't approve, but he didn't bother to hide it; this was who he was now.

“I’m sorry,” the words slipped out before he could second guess them. “That I couldn’t be here sooner.”

There was a small flex of muscle along the line of his jaw. “Things on Coruscant..” He hunted for words that didn’t sound like an excuse. It proved difficult. “They’ve been complicated.”

A breath unwound from his chest. “I’ve missed this place.. and it’s really nice to see you again, Cora.”

His emerald gaze descended to the tiny, swaddled miracle nestled in her arms. New life.. new hope. A warm smile ghosted across his lips, disturbing the severity of a youthful visage. The scar along his cheekbone moved with it.. a fresh line from Genarius, a twin to the one his sister bore. Strange how the galaxy carved them in parallel. There was something poetic in that, he supposed. But then again, she had always been his north star, no matter how far Lysander wandered from the Light.

“.. She’s so small.”

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Lysander did not look much different than when they had last met - somehow, though, the subtle changes that had accumulated over time made him seem different. Feel different.

But not too different. He was not so far gone down that winding, dark path that she couldn't recognize her own brother through the sharp cut of his jaw, nor the grimness of his clothes.

She said nothing to his mention of Coruscant, but something painful tightened her expression. It was like salt in a wound. A wound that was growing faster than she could try and mend it.

Coruscant had, at one point, been her home. When Marcel had disowned her, she'd live in exile from Ukatis. Cora had never felt quite at home in its vastly urban terrain, but it had embraced her during a time of struggle.

Soft babbles came as a momentary reprieve from the cycle of grief that felt endless. Cora couldn't help the way that she smiled, tender and tired, down at her daughter.

"She is small," came her murmured agreement. Two fingers skimmed a dark, wispy curl back from the babe's forehead. "But she's healthy. Loud, too, when she wants something."

Cora has come to the realization that she wasn't a particularly good Jedi. She was overly sentimental and played favorites. With Ukatis, with her family. She could name a handful of contemporaries who would've had her head for fraternizing with Lysander. Even more would, or have, levied sharp criticism at her.

Lysander's path had been his own choice. So was her own.

Cora turned so that Lysander could see Luciana's face. She'd sent him photos, well aware that it couldn't compare to seeing the child in person. Her skin had evened and smoothed out post-birth, and now several months old, she could fix her wide blue eyes on Lysander in what amounted to an infant's ceaseless curiosity.

"Why don't you put that lightsaber down," she gestured gently with her chin to the curved hilt clipped at her brother's waist, "and come hold your niece?"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Corazona von Ascania​

Lysander wasn’t sure which stung worse, being aware of his sister's ache, or that she tried to hide the wound from him. It shouldn't have surprised him, not after their last encounter, but the pattern still felt like betrayal.

At first, it was strange as his hand hovered near the hilt, like he was unsure whether to comply or resist; after years in the Outer Rim, such a request sounded like a death sentence.

But it was the inquisitive gaze of a tiny, curious face that drove Lysander to heed her beckoning, as something tugged deep within.

“.. right,” murmured into the space between them.

With a click, he crouched down, placing it at the base of the oak tree.. the same tree that had witnessed their growth and now the fracture. Lysander only wished she might allow him to mend what had broken. A hesitant step drew him closer, as though approaching something fragile. In that very moment, the Sith persona melted away, leaving behind something far more vulnerable.. a brother.

Closing the short distance, he scanned her features like some kind of mysterious puzzle; of course he was searching for anything familiar, which was why his focus shifted back and forth a few times. And there they were, Cora's eyes, and glimpses Makko too. That was enough to elicit a huff of air.. amusement. The color in his gaze warmed. And finally, a genuine smile, a sight reserved only for a select few within the Covenant. Brief, sure.. but it was nice..

“She’s beautiful.. you’ve done well.”

Three months late..

Even with an invitation, something in him sought reassurance.. even rarer for the blonde.

“May I?”

Both hands rose and opened with a tremor as he reached for the niece that knew nothing of him. Someone too new in the galaxy to judge what he’d become.

“Hello there.. there you are, hm.”

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

At last, the clouds seemed to part over her smile. Cora could still recall a time when she’d held Lysander in this way. Granted, she’d been much younger then. Just a child herself.

“Mind her head, now,” she murmured as the babe was carefully transferred into her brother’s arms. Cora showed him how to support Lucy’s neck in the same way the nursemaids had once taught her to support his own.

For her part, Luciana didn’t seem fussed my the change in hands. Wide blue eyes stared unabashedly up at Lysander. The warmth of her mother was replaced by that of her uncle.

“She looks different now than in the pictures I sent you,” Cora murmured with no small amount of fondness. Those had been shortly after Lucy’s birth, wrinkled and pink. Now, her cheeks were beginning to fill out with that baby-brand softness.

So much had separated the pair of siblings. Distance, time, and ideology. They both struggled to come to terms with how decisions affected their relationship, but in this moment, Cora could only see her brother.

There was still good in him. Still compassion, still tenderness. She saw it, clear as day, when he gazed down at the bundle.

“Her birth was…intense. In a stalled elevator.” Amusement curled at the edges of her tone as Cora shook her head. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

It was dramatic enough for one of those holodramas they couldn’t help but devour.

“Still,” she continued softly, “everything went well in the end. I’m glad that you have the chance to meet her. And…” A sharp intake of breath filled the space between words. “And just to…to see you again.”

A tiny, chubby hand broke free of the blankets. Little fingers grasped for her uncle’s long blonde hair, familiar in its shape and color.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Corazona von Ascania​

Luciana's weight wasn't the first thing that undid him. She was warm in a way that surprised Lysander, like a tiny sun gathered into blankets, placed into the crook of his arms. As his sister spoke, he was careful to adjust his wrist, so that he could give support beneath the hinge of her neck.

He’d held weapons, holocrons, wounded Sith, dying enemies, but.. nothing had ever emanated this pure and gentle light simply from being alive.

From a body that seemed to float effortlessly, there was a soft rise and fall of her breathing. Fingers quivered momentarily, and he silently prayed that Cora hadn't noticed.

The story that unfolded made his eyes dart upward. Honestly, he couldn't tell if she was joking or serious at first. What was he supposed to say with that information? A lone brow arched skeptically. If he weren’t so occupied cradling his niece, he totally would've given her the signature roll of his eyes.

“Only you,” came words with fond exasperation. “Only you would manage something like that. Were you alone?”

And well, the rest stayed where it probably belonged. Brotherly and wry. You idiot, how did you even manage that?

Could've been worse. With their family, it usually was.

The confession was dragged from a part of him rarely visited. "I'm.. glad too. I don't get to be here as much as I'd like."

Something brushed softly against his forearm. Was she on the verge of fussing or tears? Chubby little fingers curled around a lock of his hair with.. unexpected strength. His head bowed, leaning closer to meet hers.

"Hey, careful! That's attached."

The hold stayed firm.

"You really don't want to let go, do you?

A little puff of air brushed his sleeve.. accompanied by a sound that could have easily been mistaken for a figment of his imagination. But then it came again.. a light airy giggle that danced on the wind.

"Alright.. you can keep it."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora could’ve spent an eternity watching the way Lysander’s nervous apprehension turned into reverence as he cradled Luciana.

Something so small, so tiny, had instantly made her galaxy stop and hold its breath. Now, she’d done it again.

Cora’s lips pursed, then quirked upwards at Lysander’s tone. A crumpled little smile that recognized the affection in her brother’s voice. “No,” she said. “I wasn’t alone. I had the King of Naboo for a midwife.”

The circumstances of Luciana’s birth felt so far away, now. It had been chaotic and stressful beyond any measurable degree, and yet, it had lead to moments like this one. Quiet, soft moments of mutual tenderness.

“Makko got us out,” she added. “So he was there to see his daughter born, and Aurelian’s pocket square became the galaxy’s most expensive baby blanket.”

Cora took a half step closer when Lucy grabbed a lock of Lysander’s hair, but didn’t yet intervene.

For her part, Luciana gazed up at Lysander with wide blue eyes. She felt the warmth of his arms and the faint rumble in his chest as he spoke. He leaned in closer, and Lucy’s chubby cheeks split into a gummy, toothless grin.

It was a sound that her parents would never tire of - that light, grunting bubble of laughter. All the while, her little fist remained rooted in blonde locks.

“Careful,” Cora mused in warning. “She likes to-“

With a happy squeal, Luciana’s hand jerked, and she yanked on her uncle’s hair with surprising strength.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Corazona von Ascania​

Cora’s warning fluttered through the air too late to make any difference. Lysander's brows shot up in surprise. Strange, almost.. a Sith Knight of the Covenant, emissary, squad leader, currently held in place by a hand no bigger than two of his fingers!

.. And that was alright. Carefully, he shifted his stance, easing so she wouldn't be jostled.

Slowly, the vibrant gaze drifted down toward the small tyrant wrapped snugly in his arms. After a slow blink, the next breath released blossomed into a soft laugh.. like he was rediscovering a sound after so many years without it.

"Well," came the softer voice, mindful of the space they shared, "I see the warning came with excellent timing.."

Lysander was quite unsure how to proceed without forcing her grip open. So, one hand moved on, settling to support her comfortably. It was becoming easier..

“She’s very determined,” he noted after another moment. “And in this family.. that definitely checks out.”

The warmth made him momentarily forget he was very much at his niece's mercy.

“I’m aware of him.”

Through a different context of course. Intelligence briefings. Diplomatic tendencies. Potential trade alignment.

“Midwifery wasn't among his listed talents on file,” added with a modest smile.

Another enthusiastic yank followed, paired with a gleeful little noise.

“Luciana, if you keep that hold much longer, your uncle may have to negotiate for his hair.”

A forward tilt accompanied the words. “But.. that’s alright. Every good alliance starts with just a little stubbornness.”