Chapter Text
The togruta wants to be surprised, but it’s telling that she’s not as she takes in the sight of Ezra Bridger now approximately two years old.
Ezra reaches out for her immediately, taking the togruta a little bit aback, but the development doesn’t surprise Kanan or Hera. Not any longer.
Kanan doesn’t move to hand him over though, not until Ahsoka offers to take him. Showing it was alright. And Ezra is triumphant as he settles in the other force sensitive’s arms.
“Hondo managed to get us this,” Hera offers the chit, noticing the older woman’s lip twitch in the slightest at the name. The twi’lek doesn’t blame her, but she’s immediately curious about the history the two apparently have together.
Immediately Ahsoka plugs the chit into the table so it’d project the schematics. Blueprints; not even complete ones, and only for a single part that would be needed for the overall machine that had turned the padawan into a youngling.
Kanan sighs, putting his head in his hands for a moment. The war had been grating on, and as of late it’d seemingly been getting worse. Not that he doesn’t absolutely adore little Ezra, but he’s beginning to wonder how the Ghost crew got on without their specter six in the past.
With Ezra so little it was even worse and more tiresome because he had to be watched, unless...Kanan doesn’t sit well with the thought of leaving Ezra on base in the care of others.
It’d be hell on their bond, his mind, his heart. Even if it was technically safer. He can’t exactly think of anyone of base he’d truly trust to watch a force sensitive child either, not with Ezra moving around objects, and needing to be shielded in case of lurking Inquisitors.
Except, well the answer is technically right in front of him. The only problem being Ahsoka likely didn’t have the time for that.
He must have been projecting his thoughts because Ahsoka startles him, “I can reach out through the network. See if they can find something more-” she sighs but not in a bad way but more of a way that showed she was surprising herself, “And I can watch over Ezra when you seek out any of their leads,”
It’s a relief to the couple although they are still the slightest bit stricken, Ahsoka knows it’s not because they don’t trust her. It’s because they don’t trust themselves without the boy in question in their midst.
Ezra looks between the three of them with wide sapphire eyes that practically will their soul’s into submission. They’d do anything for the boy.
The youngling rests his head gently against the woman’s chest plate, little hands holding onto her larger one.
“We’d appreciate it,” Hera admits, and Kanan can only nod. He hadn’t slept in at least a week, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his padawan who had been insistent on sitting in on his meditations and crawling with him into bed at night so he’d at least get some sort of rest.
The captain doesn’t look any better, now that she was also a general with meetings and a hectic schedule on top of watching over Ezra on missions when her crew was out. She was tired.
“Why don’t you rest? I’ll hold onto Ezra and go through the network,” Fulcrum smiles, ushering the two out. It wouldn’t be a hard task, plus Ezra seemed alright with holding onto her for now.
The tired couple sag with relief, getting to their feet stiffly. Ezra earning a kiss to the head from each of them before they returned to the Ghost for some much needed rest.
Ahsoka takes to babysitting well, better than she thought she would.
Ezra sits still as Sabine trims some of his hair, it starting to get unruly. Chopper twirls his top below, snickering and trying to get her to mess up and even encouraging her to dye the boy's hair.
The girl briefly considers the dying job, especially when Chopper returns with a can of her paint the exact same shade as Hera. The droid urging her to change his hair to that specific color.
Sometimes she forgets Hera is just as much a parent to the droid that she is to her. It is a funny thought though, but in the end their captain probably wouldn’t actually like it.
Kanan would probably have a heart attack as well, his protective instincts flared enough when Ezra so much as got near her paint! They can't imagine he'd react well to dying his hair.
Both Mandalorian and droid know Zeb would laugh his ass off, but on this occasion it’s Hera and Kanan’s word that is final. So she doesn’t go through with the dye job, shooing the droid off to go and get the broom. Needing to sweep up the trimmed raven hair that had fallen.
“You like it?” Sabine questions, showing the boy a mirror. It’s not a big change, Ezra not really noticing anything other than his nape didn’t feel as sweaty and nodded with a smile.
“Thanks bean!” the little boy replies happily, getting to his feet and toddling off, likely to go and tell Kanan or whoever else he could find to show them the trim.
Zeb doesn’t know why Ezra insists on sitting in his lap as he cleans his bow rifle but the boy is persistent. Enough that begrudgingly he allows it even if it makes him nervous when doing his work.
Having to keep the bolts far away, the polish, oil, and tools out of the little boy’s reach, and not knock into the boy as he works. It makes the process a good ten minutes longer than it needs to be, but he doesn’t mind as much as he should. Or anyone would expect.
Not when Ezra watches attentively, expressive eyes amazed as if he was doing rocket science and not providing simple weapon upkeep. But if the kid gets some enjoyment out of it, he won’t make fun, the task brings him too much of a relief for him to say a thing at all.
Even if he still did find it a little peculiar the small boy was so immersed. It could be the movements, or something just particularly Ezra. The lasat didn’t know, not having much knowledge on younglings, let alone human ones.
Said youngling sniffles, nose twitching before he sneezes. A small sound that has the lasat’s ears turning, it doesn’t happen again, and the kit doesn’t smell sick which is a relief. The crew didn’t need the stress of a sick child, force knows they didn’t, and the boy’s master probably wouldn’t survive it.
“You think I cleaned it enough?” he asks gruffly, looking down at the boy. Ezra takes a deep and thoughtful look at the item before looking back up towards the lasat and nodding.
“Mhm,” the boy hums through his smile. Zeb’s large hand ruffles the boy’s hair at that, taking him into his hand with so much ease sometimes Zeb worries he’ll unthinkingly send the kid flying.
“Good, now let’s go see what’s for dinner,”
“Sweets!” the boy insists and Zeb knows he’ll have to find a treat for the boy as well. After he had a proper dinner of course.
“Oh my little star sweeper. I’ll sweep the stardust for you,” Hera’s voice hums melodiously, rocking the youngling in her arms. It was just the two of them for night, the rest besides Chopper who was in the cockpit on a mission.
The child’s eyes flutter with her song, a smile pulling at his darker complexion, the act only just making her realize the scars on the boy’s cheek had stayed. Odd since not even the boy’s memories as far as they were concerned had stayed. They are sensitive as well, the small body shivering as she just barely runs her thumb over them.
“La la lu,” she continued to humm, taking a seat on her bunk, one leg tucked underneath her as she stared down at her youngest. Brushing his bangs out of his face and running a finger down his nose.
The act earning a soft contended giggle, his eyes almost fully closed now. But as always Ezra would always try to stay up, lashes fluttering.
“Little soft, fluffy sleeper,” her tone is lilted with amusement, teasing because obviously the boy wasn’t sleeping. This clearly known to Ezra whose cheeks turn rosy as she bundles him further in blankets.
“Little wandering angel,” she settles back, tucking the boy to her chest, “Fold up your wings,” her finger drags over his nose again, “Close your eyes,” and the boy does.
The captain smiles down as his soft breaths paint her throat, wondering why sleeping babies happened to make everyone around them so sleepy as well.
“La la lu,” The twi’lek hums, her own eyes shuttering; the rest of her family coming to mind. Especially the man who was raising this delight with her, “And may love be your keeper,” she knew it was.
The woman manages to get the last of her song out, not exactly singing any longer, more like tiredly yet endearingly instructing, “There now little star sweeper. Dream on,” before falling asleep herself. Completely unaware Chopper had been recording from the doorway all along.
Kanan gets the recording from Chopper at a good time, especially since Master Yoda’s spirit or presence-whatever it was the pair still weren’t sure, instructed them to seek out Malachor: the place Jedi go to die.
It isn’t enough to quell his worry, but it’s just enough to bring a smile to his face and intrigue Ahsoka who leaves him to rewatch again and again on his own. Either preparing for the trip already or taking her own second to ponder what was to come next.
When they get back to base, Ahsoka walks off into the sand searching for something he doesn’t know but he assumes for some odd reason he will in time while he boards the Ghost.
Hera is off, Zeb doing target practice, Chopper scrubbing the hull while he could feel Sabine and Ezra in Phantom. But they weren’t alone in the ship, another small presence was there as well. It’s explained once he gets inside, the pair curled on the floor with a loth-cat between them.
“You look like crap,” Sabine says honestly, already picking up on his slumped posture and rigid jaw that only evens out when Ezra shouts:
“Dad!” his little arms up in the air so Kanan would pick him up, which he did. Pressing an absent kiss to the boy’s temple and tucking the boy against his shoulder by the back of his head. Ezra settling in and down immediately, their bond filled tenderly as the youngling latches on comfortingly. Completely subdued and staring down at the loth-cat in Sabine’s lap.
Purposefully zoning out the rest of their conversation to focus on sending affection and comfort at his father.
“Thanks, you tell Hera you brought a stowaway on board?” he retorts with not much mirth, absently running a hand over the boy’s back.
“No, but I was going to take it back outside once Ezra was done playing with it,” Sabine returns, eyes imploring. Already aware something was amiss.
“If Ezra had his way, the ship would be chock full of them,” Kanan huffs with a laugh, sending a look meaning he’d explain later while they were all together. The teen simply nods, getting to her feet and bringing the loth-cat with her.
“You see the video?” she asks absently, a smile tugging at her lips just thinking about Hera and Ezra getting ready for bed.
“Yeah,” The Jedi smiles, letting her go down the ladder first before following after, nudging at Ezra so the child could wave the cat goodbye before Sabine put it back outside.
“She’ll be in an hour, Bail just needed to discuss something with her,” the girl adds, making sure the cat went down the ramp, skittering past Chopper which wobbled and startled the cat further away.
“It’ll go on longer if Ahsoka joins in,” Kanan sighs, his distress clearing when Ezra looks back up at him, ultimately forcing him to calm down and smile.
“Did you wanna eat dinner in the mess then or make something here?” the girl asks conversationally, although it’s not her only reason for asking because the answer would surely explain the severity of whatever plight the Jedi and potentially all of them would be facing.
Kanan knows this and makes sure to offer her the same assurance he does Ezra, “Let’s all eat together. Check what we have, I’m sure we can put something together,”
The girl nods, trying to return his grin and ease her own tension, “I’ll go get Zeb so he can help,”
They all knew the last time Kanan had gone away Ezra had been terribly upset. Down right depressed. But something in Ezra must know this trip was something much worse because the kid was screaming his little lungs out.
Trying desperately to hold on as they tried to disentangle the child from Kanan so he and Ahsoka could set out for Malachor. Kanan is practically frozen through the process, feeling the boy weep even across their bond, begging him to stay.
Ahsoka looks ready to intervene, truly debating if she should smother the child with a couple of sleep suggestions but in case something went wrong the pair deserved a proper goodbye, so she refrained.
“Ezra,” Kanan finally comes to, voice strained. Carefully he takes the boy’s face in his hands, the teen sniffling, seconds away from wailing all over again. But he doesn’t, knowing Kanan is speaking and it nearly hurts the child not to listen to his father.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll be back for you. I promise,” he continues, placing a kiss to the boy’s forehead, “It’s going to be okay,”
It’s not okay, not when Kanan loses his sight and Ahsoka loses her life. The only upside to the journey being she’d taken Darth Vader, and his Inquisitors with her.
The Jedi doesn’t mean to fall into such a depressive isolation because of it, but he can't exactly help it. And when Chopper brought him home, Kanan couldn't even try to offer any comfort to the child reaching out to him.
Really only content at the moment to be embraced by Hera and even that is almost too much. How could he lead this crew? How could he be her knight? And how could he possibly be the boy’s master without his eyesight?
Kanan doesn’t know.
Meditation is lonely, he hadn’t realized he’d gotten so used to Ezra joining him in the act. There’s an urge to go get him, pick up the child and continue on, but his loathing doesn’t allow it. The guilt keeps him on his knees, the realization that he’d been neglecting his padawan, a young child who was depending heavily on him now, more so than ever eating away at him.
It’s because of this Kanan figures out exactly what-or more accurately who Ahsoka had sought out when she’d walked into the sands. A hulking being if his presence and the shift of the earth meant anything; one who’s voice shook him to his very core.
The Bendu, the very in-between.
Kanan picks up his child for the first time in months in the way he’d wanted for so long, especially with Ezra’s clearly projected want. Opening their signature back up into the air and immediately he fills it with near desperate apologies.
He doesn’t feel as if he deserves it, Ezra’s forgiveness, because the boy although still seemingly distraught gives it immediately. The Jedi is suddenly forced to face the horrid thought and potential realization that it was more than likely the child had felt the pain of his eyesight being taken away by crimson red.
It’s not the only realization that hits him, the other being that when they finally cured Ezra, he wouldn’t actually see it. And dear force he missed him.
This whole situation was conflicting, odd, but could anyone in their crew expect anything less from this war? Certainly less than a de-aged padawan, or possibly more, Kanan didn’t know how to judge the affliction at all.
Ezra doesn’t respond well to the sight of his injury, and it certainly brought forward some hurt feelings in the older man but he ignored it. Ezra obviously projecting his upset about the wound loudly. Thankfully not afraid or disturbed by the injury, simply sad he’d suffered it.
The toddler whimpers, hands gently brushing over the healing scars. There’s still some heat radiating off it that makes a few tears slip from the boy’s eyes, and Kanan gently wipes those tears away.
Letting him know everything was okay. It was nice to connect in such a way, Ezra’s small fingers offering some comfort.
The Jedi doesn’t realize the kid was putting forth some energy to actively heal him some, not that it would get his sight back or anything but the wounds wouldn’t be as inflamed.
Kanan let’s Ezra inspect the mark for some time, until the boy yawns and reaches for his chest. Kanan tugging the child close in response, pressing pleased kisses to the boy’s hair.
“I’m sorry kiddo, but everythings okay now. Or it will be, I promise,”
The trip to Malachor offered an escape to an old sith lord, one instantly intrigued at the pair of supposedly long since dead Jedi. One who even had a padawan.
A young one if the holo the man had on his ship meant anything. He’d been looking for an apprentice, always really, needing one to keep with the rule of two, and the although the child was young, he was powerful.
Strong enough that he could feel a bond between the two, it shouting out loudly as he blinded the Jedi. So much power in such an impressionably small package. What a perfect apprentice, one that would be especially easy to take with his master injured and a seemingly busy crew. And even with the crew around, they’d be no match for his sabers.
The zabrak waits to strike, noticing the old forlorn Jedi had seemingly gotten himself back together in the time it’d taken him to find them. It certainly makes things harder but he knows patience, enough to wait until he sees the master and his supposedly Twi’lek wife walk off the ship together.
Then the lasat went off with the droid to a hastily set up target range, leaving only two on board the ship. A young signature he could surely face off-they weren’t even force sensitive- and exactly who he was looking for.
The youngling padawan.
It’s all too easy then as he hides his signature, stepping on board and seeking his new apprentice out. He finds the Mandalorian first who is almost quick enough to draw her blasters before he uses the force to smack her head into the wall and send her careening to the floor unconscious.
And Ezra, the name the droid had said, that the bond had told him, looks up at him fearfully. He smothers the child in a sleep suggestion and runs, knowing that the single ounce of fear was enough to alert his master being the kid didn’t have proper shielding yet.
The former pseudo sith clamps down forcibly around the boy’s signature then, hiding it so his master couldn’t track him.
“Ezra!” The man’s voice is loud, worry palpable and the alarms are blaring on the base immediately. Maul only just manages to get on his ship and take off in time for the blind man to actually come into sight.
His teeth pulled into a snarl that made the zabrak laugh, the boy’s former master pathetic in his eyes. Unable to even save the child in his care.
It was splendid.
He takes the boy to Dathomir, sapphire eyes wonderfully defiant as they stare up at him. The child somehow having brushed off the sleep suggestions, waking up early. What an intriguing prodigy indeed. And to be potentially spoiled on that blind has been, a remnant of a long forgotten past? Maul had certainly gotten there in time.
“Oh Ezra, don’t fret. We will be gods, and nothing of your old master will matter. Nothing at all,” it’s obvious the boy doesn’t believe him, looking up petulantly.
It’s a dream come true.
Kanan is livid, this type of anger completely foreign to him. So much so he has to carefully ward the darkness it tries to bring off, it won’t help him find Ezra.
His child had been stolen, by a red force sensitive zabrak. At least that’s what a concussed Sabine had said. And Kanan knows exactly who that must be: Darth Maul.
A former sith lord.
Darth Maul had stolen Ezra, two year old Ezra, a defenseless youngling padawan. It's horrifying.
Thankfully due to the bond, although their distance is far and Ezra is young, Ezra does as he always did before. Learned in the face of danger, because if he isn’t mistaken there in the distance the youngling is reaching out.
Across their bond Ezra tugs at him, it’s small, as if the boy was doing it quickly and quietly, whenever he could. Only his padawan even while so young could be so careful and intelligent enough to plan out how to attract his attention without Maul noticing. Kanan loved that kid with all his heart.
“Kanan,” Sabine pops up, exiting her room. She shouldn’t be out of bed, and he’s about to escort her back but she extends something to him that he feebly takes. Unable to tell what exactly it is through the force until it’s actually in his hands.
It’s a mask, and as his fingers run over the decals he struggles for a moment to make out what the engravings are. A flash of Rex’s helmet sits behind his eyes, and Kanan finds his breath stuttering.
Jaig eyes were of grave importance to the Mandalorians, and they weren’t earned easily.
“Bring him home,” the girl instructs, and she doesn’t have to but he appreciated it regardless. He nods, feeling out, farther than he thinks he’s ever been able to before, and wraps himself around his child’s signature.
“I’m coming Ezra,”
Kanan knows immediately as he lands on Dathomir, this isn’t a place to raise a child. His son wouldn’t be raised here and certainly not by a sith lord that didn’t love him.
“My, my, you’re either brave or foolish,” Maul’s voice taunts from the left, the sound of a saber, and then another a fraction of a second later igniting.
“The only foolish one here is you for taking my kid,” Kanan returns tightly, he can feel Ezra in a building and he won’t be leaving without him. The Jedi ignites his saber and prepares for war.
“Those eyes don’t exactly strike fear Jedi, especially when the real ones beneath don’t work,” the zabrak continues to taunt, swinging his saber in an arc Kanan easily deflects, turning his saber in his hand quickly to push back the other end and somehow manages to send it back and take off one of the man’s artificial legs.
It’s easy from there to swing his saber back up into a proper grip and take off the man’s head as he falls. It hits the ground with a thud and a scrape; likely from his horns hitting the dirtited ground.
Kanan clips his saber back to his belt then, long strides quick and true as they move towards the building. Ezra waiting, and Kanan’s not prepared for the fear he feels when the boy takes sight of him.
“Ezra?” he questions gently, hesitantly reaching out to take the boy into his arms. The boy’s breath is short, barely breathing at all, and immediately Kanan is doing his perfunctory sweep over the teens head, shoulders, and back to make sure the monster hadn’t done any damage.
The youngling is as still as a stone in his grasp and he can feel his gaze boring through him absolutely terrified. He doesn’t understand because Ezra hadn’t been this afraid before, scared no doubt but the threat was gone and the raven haired boy is even more petrified now.
Was it because he’d killed Maul? Had he slipped to the dark side for a moment? His child was seemingly afraid of him, why?
“Oh,” the mask on his face is heavy and the only thing that’s really changed. He slips it off quickly, holding it with his elbow and almost instantly the boy calms, reaching towards him to twine his small fingers into his sweater and cry with relief.
“Daddy!” the child sniffled, and Kanan figures the mask is something the boy will have to get used to as he tucks him close to his chest. Hugging the child as tightly as he dared.
“It’s me, I’m here,” Kanan chuckles softly, immersed in relief, letting those little hands brush over his scars yet again. The scars aren't as warm as they used to be.
“C’mon Ezra, let’s go home,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on the boy’s head as he headed back to the ship, Chopper warbling at him, asking why it took him so long, although the droid isn’t as volatile or loud as it usually is. Likely for Ezra's benefit.
There’s only one part they need left, one more set of schematics needed to be found so they could have their fourteen year old padawan back but they certainly aren’t rushing. Still working avidly to achieve the goal but with Vader gone, along with the Inquisitors, Thrawn also having been delt with, the Empire is effectively losing.
New rebel cells popping up everyday, and the sith lord Sidious will be no problem at all. Not when Obi-Wan Kenobi reappears from the shadows of isolation, speaking of a potential plan that could end up taking the monstrous sith lord out once and for all.
It is only made better when Master Yoda, who was not dead either, came to help. Kanan was more than ready to assist them, hopefully with Ezra at his side as well.
Time could only tell.