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Chapter Text

The moons had just risen over the grassy plain of the Sanctuary, casting a soft blue light over the land.

Where there had once been countless tents constructed in haste to house the hundreds of Force-sensitives and their families, now there were four large buildings, built from the Lothalian stone that surrounded them and reinforced with permacrete and ebonwood. Embedded within the walls of those buildings were windows made from odd shapes of stained transparisteel bonded with bronzium depicting the tales of the New Jedi Order; how mere younglings and Padawans came together with their faith in the Force to defeat the evil Galactic Empire. 

Scattered around the central buildings designed for use as a school, a community dining and recreation center, and dormitories, remained several modest homes. They were homes that belonged to families who didn’t feel safe returning to the world outside of the Sanctuary, even though peace had been restored. Some of them were families of Force-sensitives who chose to train but wanted to know that their loved ones would be protected.

Many of the pathfinders had decided to remain in the Sanctuary as well, having made the decision that they would spend the rest of their lives helping to maintain the sacred ground and work alongside the Jedi; either to honor the memory of their own Force-sensitive loved ones, or because it was the only place that seemed like home after several long years. 

A handful of houses were scattered distantly from the central square. The homes were still modest but exuded a different warmth than those of the families and pathfinders who remained in the central Sanctuary. They were the dwellings of a handful of Jedi that had found more than their strength in the Force during the war and embraced it; those who eschewed the notion of the old Order that they could not love and submit to the will of the Force when called upon.

Though they were few in number, they were welcomed and their bonds encouraged. 

They’d all lost enough during the war, including too many of their own. Taking into account the losses they’d incurred before the war combined with their losses after, who could blame them for living their lives in whatever manner they wanted? Was the act of acknowledging emotion or creating a union with a life partner really that detrimental to a Jedi’s ability to act out of duty when even the most loyal followers of the rules of old were still slain in the betrayal? It didn’t seem as if the guidance of the Force protected those Jedi any more than they protected the Jedi who were a little less stringent with the previous regulations.

If the Force did not will it, it would not be.

That’s how Caleb had come to put it, anyway. 

Jedi Knight Hera Syndulla’s eyes tracked to the other side of the small village that the Jedi now called home, her gaze finding the wall with the many names of the fallen carefully etched into it. She knew them all by memory, had stood before the wall and traced her fingers along the names too many times and for too many hours. Each time that she did, her fingertip always lingered on Lia’s name the longest.

There were other names there, of course. Master Secura, Master Billaba, Master Windu – even Master Kenobi, though he’d survived the betrayal. It wasn’t long that after Quinlan found him on Tatooine that the beloved Master passed, falling victim to his former Padawan. For some reason, those losses carried a different significance. The ache that once gripped her every waking moment for her Numa, for Master Secura, would strike on occasion but more often it was fond memories she found. All of the early losses seemed to follow that pattern; blending together into one singular pain rather than hundreds or thousands of individual heartaches.

All except for Lia.

Lia was the one that would always linger in her heart.

The Togrutan girl that had doubted herself so much in her early days in the Sanctuary, that struggled to catch up to her peers and spent a significant amount of time fighting her own confidence eventually found her strength in the Force, just as Hera promised that she would. It was with her newfound conviction and power in the Force that Hera’s first and only Padawan gave her life to protect two much younger Padawans. The two Padawans, still alive and safe with their family in the Sanctuary, surely would have fallen had Lia not intervened. 

While she was proud of her Padawan and always would be, it didn’t ease the ache that she carried for the teenage girl. Hera knew without doubt that particular ache would never fade.

She was also in no rush to take on a new Padawan; instead she had retreated to overseeing the operations of the Sanctuary on a nearly exclusive basis. There were several other new Knights and two Masters that could help with the new generation of Jedi.

The feeling of strong arms embracing her from behind drew the faintest of smiles to her lips. Hera closed her arms over Caleb’s and she tilted her head to the side, allowing him to tuck his chin against the crook of her neck. Their bond in the Force was as strong as ever and there was no hiding when her mind was fixating on things beyond her control, or things that they still had to lose; the little worries that would forever linger in the minds and hearts of any of the survivors.

Nights like tonight, it was neither of those things left her in quiet observation of the Sanctuary. Tonight was no more than her normal ritual of visually assessing the land before her in quiet vigilance to ensure that all was in order.

“I promise that it’s all still there,” he teased gently. “Nothing has happened since the last time you checked.” 

The acceptance of peace had come so easily to Caleb where Hera was waiting for something else to happen. It wasn’t intuition or dread that led her to believe that something would happen; it was a feeling of restlessness that she didn’t know how to shake. What did you do with the rest of your life when you felt like you’ve completed what you’d been called to do? Surely, there was another purpose for them now beyond merely seeing to the safety and training of Force-sensitives.

Things couldn’t stay peaceful forever, could they?

Hera bit back a smile. “Don’t push your luck, Dume. I’m still working out a deal with the Force about trading you in for somebody less obnoxious.”

“Actually, I did some extensive research on that today. It turns out that there was some information on that in one of the ancient texts. It’s nothing significant, just a statement that the return policy expires after twenty-five years and since we just crossed that mark, you’re out of luck. You’re just stuck with me forever now,” he answered before pressing a kiss against her neck.

“Besides, you don’t really want to get rid of me, do you?” His voice had dropped an octave when he asked that question.

Letting her eyes close, she tilted her head further, allowing Caleb greater purchase of her skin. “Keep doing that and I might reconsider,” she murmured. 

Always more than happy to oblige, he continued to spread slow and gentle kisses along the length of her neck. Rough fingertips spelled out words of love in aurebesh along her abdomen as he did. They had the rest of their lives, they had peace, they had each other. 

Why did she feel so restless?

“For fuck’s sake,” a voice groaned from behind them. “You literally have your own place. Right. over. there. Why is it so hard to walk across the little bridge to your own place?” 

“Quinlan,” Tala chided gently from beside him. “Let them be.”

“You have not had to put up with this as long as I have,” he grumbled back at the woman. Even though he was still as grumpy and brash as ever, Hera knew he’d very much come to love Tala, even if he had a hard time putting it into words or actions.

“Good to see you too, Quinlan,” Hera said with a slight smirk, easing herself from Caleb’s embrace to face him. “What took you so long? You said you were only going to be gone for a couple of days?”

“Did something fall apart while I was gone?” he asked with an arched brow.

“No,” Caleb answered for her. “Just like it never does. I’m waiting for her to start a war just because she doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

With a scowl, Hera elbowed him in the side. “I’m fine. There’s plenty to look after. I’m not going to start a war just to keep myself busy.”

Besides, that’s what disappearing out into the distant plains to train with her lightsaber for hours on end was for, she did not say.

“About that,” Quinlan said, digging through a utility pouch at his side. He pulled out a small black duraweave satchel and less than gently threw it in their direction. “You’ve got better things to do than start a war or fuck around with your lightsaber all the time to keep yourself busy. Besides, I’m tired of waiting for you to get this shit over with.”

Caleb snatched the satchel out of the air before Hera could. He opened it up to find two bracelets, made up of a silver-white metal.

“Is this doonium?” he asked, glancing up at Quinlan.

“Yes, it’s doonium. That’s not the point,” he sighed. “Look at them.”

“I am looking at them and I see doonium,” Caleb replied with a sarcastic grin. 

“Oh, give them here,” Hera huffed, pulling them from Caleb’s hands.

They were doonium, a mineral that had been used in the construction of both of their lightsabers. It was only three years ago that they learned that doonium was a mineral that was native to both Lothal and Ryloth; it just another one of those strange things through the Force and their bond that manifested itself in their lightsabers. She turned the bands over in her hands, examining them closely.

Obviously, there was something else that Quinlan expected them to notice. 

As she turned one of them slowly, the light of the moons caught something faint, a discontinuity in the otherwise smooth band. When she drew the band closer to examine it, she felt warmth rush to her face. It wasn’t a discontinuity of the metal; it was engraved with a word. Though she already knew what would be engraved on the other bracelet, she ran her fingertip over the word on the opposite bracelet anyway. 

Okz and Okbeo.

Her eyes turned up to meet Quinlan’s. Though he wore the same patently impatient expression he always had, there was a hint of happiness that she could see hidden beneath his gaze after the many years they’d spent together. 

“Since somebody hasn’t gotten a clue, I figured I’d help him out,” Quinlan said flatly, casting an over-exaggerated irritated glance in Caleb’s direction. 

“Wait, what?” he asked, pulling the bracelets back from Hera’s hands. It was obvious when he found the same inscriptions that had drawn her up short.

“Oh,” he said quietly, the word coming out almost like a soft exhale. “Oh.”

Okz and Okbeo.

Husband and Wife.

“There. I did the hard part for you,” Quinlan said, unable to hide a smirk. “Now you just…get it over with. You can thank me by remembering that you have your own place.”

“Quinlan!” Tala said, smacking his arm. “That’s not how that works. You can’t just tell them to put them on and not do something. It’s supposed to be a celebration.”

Hera opened her mouth, feeling the flush of her face start to run down her lekku. “Oh, we don’t need–” she started, stumbling over her own words. She’d never given much consideration to that sort of thing at all but the few times she had, she knew that making a big deal out of it was something that she was not at all interested in. Ultimately, she had even decided that they didn’t even need to make that sort of commitment, let alone make a big deal out of it. “I mean, thank you but that’s just–”

“Nonsense,” Tala said with a dismissive wave of her hands. “As a child on Naboo, we always held a feast of Smoked Kaadu Ribs, Five-blossom bread, and Mirial tea cakes.”

“Which is exactly what took us forever to get back because somebody needed to go shopping in six different systems,” Quinlan muttered. 

“It was three,” she retorted. “And it will be worth it. Tonight we can all rest and tomorrow, we’ll have a feast.”

Still feeling the furious rush of warmth in her Face, Hera looked down at the bands that Caleb held. He seemed to be looking at with awe.

They were bonded in the Force. They knew they’d always be together.

For her, she’d truly believed that it would always be more than enough. They didn’t need any declarations or commitments or some crazy ceremonial nonsense to know that they’d spend their lives together. The Force made its intentions clear from the day they were born. That was enough, right?

At least that’s what she had thought.

Now, as she studied the look in Caleb’s still downcast eyes, she could see that there was nothing he wanted more in the galaxy. 

“Fine,” Quinlan relented with a sigh. “Tomorrow we feast, whatever. Tonight, you two take care of that so we can all stop wondering when you’re going to pull your head out of the banthashit pile. You should two have been the first of everybody to do all of that nonsense.”

With a shake of her head, Tala prodded Quinlan along. Though she could hear the low sound of the woman lecturing him, Hera couldn’t quite make out the words. Why was she paying attention to them? Why was her heart suddenly racing?

Caleb shifted next to her. He’d opened his mouth as if wanting to say something but then closed it again. Instead, he tucked the two bracelets in their satchel and then tucked them into his pocket.

“Come on,” he said gently, lacing his fingers with hers. 

“Wait, where are we going?” she asked, though she was already letting him tug her along. 

“You’ll see when we get there,” he smiled faintly, leading them in the opposite direction of the bridge that led to their personal dwellings.

The words reminded her of their teenage years at the Temple on Coruscant when they spent too much time trying to find a spot of their own; one in which the Masters would not catch them breaking the rules. She smiled at the sweet feeling of nostalgia and surrendered herself to whatever Caleb was plotting.

Though it had been months since they’d needed to make an escape to their spot, it was just as they’d left it. Tucked under some rocks was the bag that contained several blankets and pillows they’d slowly accumulated over the months when the spot had been a necessity. Caleb spread each one out carefully, throwing the pillows down as they always preferred them, like he’d done this very thing last night and not sometime last year. 

Reaching out, he took her hands in his. With their hands clasped together, he noticed that she was trembling almost as much as he was. Lowering to his knees, he silently beckoned to follow and she came willingly. What was he supposed to say? Was there something special they were supposed to do? 

They’d always been one whole in two halves.

Maybe he’d felt a twinge of jealousy that he shouldn’t have when some of the other Jedi had made public their decision to spend their lives together. He’d considered finding some way to ask or some manner in which to make it official. He couldn’t count how many times it had crossed his mind. Hesitation had consistently held him back, though. They already had something that the others didn’t have; they had their bond.

Even when he reminded himself of that, he couldn’t deny the longing to one day call Hera his wife, even if he’d never found the courage to ask.

Now that the opportunity was literally handed to him and the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy was right here before him, he could stop shaking. Never one to be at a loss for words, he suddenly found that he couldn’t find the right thing to say. Some of the others had done frivolous things – large ceremonies and celebrations, dances, and cultural traditions – but that’s not who they were.

It had never been who they were. 

Caleb finally pulled himself from his thoughts and forced his gaze up to meet hers. When he did, all he could see was his past and his present. He saw the one thing in the galaxy that he could ever hope for as his future; the woman he loved. Hera was and always had been his everything. With that thought, his hands found a new steadiness as he removed the small satchel from his pocket and then slid the bracelets from inside them. 

“Be my forever?” he asked gently. 

Hera nodded, the moonlight shining in her soft gaze. “I’ll be your forever.”

Caleb took her hand in his, clasping the doonium bracelet around her wrist that was engraved with the word Okbeo – wife. He leaned forward then, wanting nothing more than to kiss her but she pressed her hand gently against his chest, stopping him just shy of her lips.

“Be my forever?” she asked, her voice low and sweet. 

Smiling widely, he nodded – probably too enthusiastically. He probably looked like a ridiculous nerf and he didn’t care. “I’ll be your forever.” 

Gently, Hera pulled the bracelet from his hand and clasped it around his wrist on the same side that he still wore her Padawan beads. Okz – husband. 

He was her husband.

Feeling the curl of Hera’s hand around the back of his neck, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her body against his. 

“There’s definitely no exchanges now,” he teased gently before lowering his mouth to hers. 

The public ceremonies were fine for the people that wanted them. What they had? It was so much better than that. Here, there were no rituals or rites; no constant throng of people keeping them separate for hours upon hours with congratulations or useless chatter. There were no fancy dresses or over done tunics, no scrambling to find music for a cultural tradition. 

No; their wedding was perfect. It was him and the woman he loved in the stillness of night. With moons and stars as their only witnesses. they had become husband and wife. 

It was beneath those same bright stars and the silvery light of Lothal’s moons that they slowly stripped each other bare. They kissed and touched each other as tentatively as the first time that they’d made love. Fingertips appreciated every curve of each other’s body, lips grazed tender flesh in places that they hadn’t touched in ages in favor of frenzied and frantic sex whenever they found the time for each other. 

With his wife in his arms now, Caleb found that he never wanted to stop appreciating her body with gentle awe. It felt like their first time all over again. He wanted to kiss and caress every part of her, and he did, drawing soft whimpers or whispered pleas for more out of her full lips. With a gentle touch, he slid his hand beneath her thighs and angled his hips against hers. Just as they’d done hundreds of times before they joined as two souls in one body; it was the same sweet feeling they’d shared hundreds of times before yet somehow new. 

“I love you,” he uttered against the skin of her neck, his hips rocking gently into hers.

Hera echoed the words, her arms lightly draped around his neck. Her fingernails dragging lightly along his scalp sent a shiver down his spine and he retaliated by spreading open mouthed kisses down tchin. With nobody surrounding them except the mountains and the heavens, they did nothing to quiet their utterances. 

With the knowledge and strength they gained in the Force over the years, they opened up to each other in body, soul, and bond; each feeling what the other could as Caleb steadily moved within her until neither one could take any more. The fiery passion that burned between them continued to blaze, driving them from desire to need. 

In one easy motion, Caleb rocked back onto his knees, pulling Hera along with him. With their foreheads resting together as they began to move more desperately. They kept their gazes fixed, each daring the other to look away first. Moving his hands between their bodies, Caleb began to stroke along her swollen and tender flesh, punctuating each gentle touch with a powerful upward drive of his body into hers. 

Trembling took over their muscles once more; this time, not from nerves but from the pressure that was building in their bodies. He could feel the burgeoning heat low in her abdomen, the dam threatening to break, could feel the thrum of her heart and the way that it slowed in those sweet moments before release. 

When she tightened around him, a breathless smile spread over her lips, and he was powerless to hold out — nor did he want to. Together, truly together, they shared the high of their orgasm in a way that no other lovers could. Even after he’d fully spilled into her, they merely eased back onto the blankets, his half-hard length still embraced by her body.

After pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, Caleb broke away with a grin. “You know, I hope this supposed feast takes all day to prepare.”

Hera gave a smile of her own in response, “And why is that, Caleb?”

It hadn’t even been an hour and Caleb was certain that he would never tire of being able to call Hera by the name that he’d wanted to for such a long time. He’d never grow tired of what they’d become. “Because,” he said softly, “I intend to spend all night making love to my wife.”

“I still don’t understand when this happened,” Trilla said, shoving another piece of Five-blossom bread in her mouth. She didn’t bother swallowing it as she continued her statement with her mouth full, “I thought that weddings were supposed to be boring and long.”

Cere shook her head with a smile of bemusement. There would never be any changing her Padawan – now Knight – and everybody knew it. They’d all come to accept it, even. Some might have even called it endearing. 

“Weddings do not have to be public rituals, Trilla,” she said with a small smile and her consistently patient tone. “My homeworld didn’t celebrate unions so publicly.”

“That’s fine, I guess,” Trilla sighed. “But when did all of this happen? It still doesn’t make sense. None of us even knew it was happening. And why wasn’t there a big deal about it?”

Obviously, Trilla enjoyed these little weddings but wasn’t about to say that out loud. All that was left was for her to question exactly what she missed out on and wonder why she wasn’t notified first.

“Last night,” Hera explained, somewhat impatiently, “and we just wanted it to be us.”

“Yeah, but when did you decide this was happening?” Cal pressed. “Caleb, I thought you would have at least told me.”

With a small grin on her face, Hera watched as her husband rubbed at the back of his neck with a slight flush rising to his cheeks. “It’s kind of a complicated story,” he finally forced out.

“Nothing complicated about it,” Quinlan said loudly, in between bites of his Kaadu ribs. “I had to smack the dumb boy over the head to make him realize he was being stupid, and then he quit being stupid.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Caleb protested.

Hera couldn’t hold back a laugh. “It was just a little like that, love.” 

Trilla made a gagging noise. “Save that for your own time. Some of us are trying to enjoy this amazing food.”

Unable to help herself, Hera arched a brow at Trilla before very intentionally leaning over to kiss Caleb. It was a lingering kiss, one much longer than she’d typically allowed herself in the presence of others, outside of Quinlan. She was never one to give up an opportunity to poke the gundark. 

“Come on,” Quinlan groaned. “Some of us really are trying to enjoy the amazing food.” 

Hera gave a nonchalant shrug and hoped the warmth of her cheeks wasn’t as obvious to everybody else as it felt after putting on such a public display of their affection. “You’ve only got yourself to blame, Quinlan.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “If it weren’t for the food, I’d be questioning my decision.”

Tala laughed and leaned over to press a kiss against Quinlan’s cheek and said something against his ear that only he could hear. That was the closest they’d ever come to showing affection in front of anybody, but Hera knew how much he cared for her. Though he’d had yet to overcome that restlessness that was so ingrained into his personality after his career as a Jedi, after the Purge and throughout the war, Tala was always right there with him by his side. 

Quinlan would probably always be wary of allowing himself to fully love, Hera knew. Still she thought that maybe, perhaps, one day, that he’d let go of that past and look to the future. Isn’t that what people did in times of peace?

At least, that’s what she was going to try to do.

Chapter Text

“What is up with Numa lately?” Trilla questioned pointedly. “She’s all over you. Like all the time.”

Hera reluctantly opened her eyes and found that the datapad that she’d been pretending to read while resting her eyes for just a minute had gone into sleep mode. Again. She knew that maybe she and Caleb hadn’t been getting as much sleep as they should be lately, but really, that was starting to slow down. 

Kind of.

A little.

“What?” she mumbled in response, remembering that Trilla had asked her something but realizing that she hadn’t even registered the woman’s question.

“Okay, I know it’s my favorite joke to make but you actually look a little green,” the dark skinned woman said, eyeing her warily. “What’s wrong with you?”

Forcing out a sigh, Hera looked up. “I’m fine. Just tired. It was a long night.”

Trilla snorted. “Yeah, I bet it was. It’s been almost two months of long nights. You still never look like that.”

Too tired to even glare at Trilla, Hera just stared blankly at her. “Look like what?”

“You look like banthashit,” she answered plainly. Unexpectedly, she reached out to put the back of her hand against Hera’s forehead. “Not warm. Or any warmer than usual, I guess. Do Twi’leks run fevers?”

“Yes, we run fevers. No, I’m not sick,” Hera sighed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. I’m looking at you and you are very not fine,” Trilla argued. “If you were fine, you would have threatened my life by now for irritating you. Or your lekku would be doing that thing where you’re telling me the Twi’leki equivalent of fuck off, Trilla. You are so not fine.”

Okay, so maybe Hera didn’t feel great, but she wasn’t not fine. She was just tired. That’s all it was. She needed some sleep. 

Trilla eyed her closely, as if examining her from head to toe without laying a finger on her. Then she looked back up at Numa before looking back down to Hera. Her blue eyes narrowed slightly and she started counting something out on her fingers in silence. 

“What are you doing now?” Hera muttered. She wanted nothing more than for Trilla to go away so she could close her eyes again.

“Trying to figure out how long Numa has been following you around like that,” she answered, still counting on her fingers.

“What the hells does Numa have to do with anything?” She really was too tired for all of this and Trilla wasn’t dropping it. A soft sound that sounded like a startled gasp and a scoff all at the same time drew Hera’s eyes up to meet Trilla’s.

“What now?” she groaned. 

Grinning like the Loth cat that stole the blue milk, Trilla looked down at her. “You’re totally knocked up.”

“I’m what?” Hera said, certain that she’d misheard what the woman said.

“Knocked up,” she repeated. “Impregnated. Expecting. With child. You. Are. Having. A. Baby.”

Was that excitement in Trilla’s voice?

The only thing that Hera could do was stare blankly at Trilla. Was she an idiot? Did she even know the odds of a Human and Twi’lek having a baby? Surely she wasn’t that stupid.

There was no way Hera was pregnant. She and Caleb hadn’t planned for that. They hadn’t even talked about it. What was the point of talking about something that wasn’t even really biologically possible? There was a reason she gave up on all the suppressants ages ago. 

Finally, Hera forced herself from her train of thought to give a shake of her head. “I’m definitely not pregnant. I’m just tired.”

Behind her, Numa whined and gave a gentle nudge of her shoulder. 

Fuck.

“Yeah? Might wanna tell that to Numa,” Trilla said with a smirk. “Go lay down. You look like crap. I’ll handle your so-called job today.”

Hera even didn’t have a chance to argue with the snarky woman as she was already walking away.

Furrowing her brow, she tried to figure out how long she’d felt off. By Twi’lek cycles, she’d never know if she was pregnant because they didn’t follow the same pattern as Humans. She’d be four months along before she ever noticed if she was going by that alone. Honestly, she couldn’t even remember the last time that she’d even paid attention to the timing of all of that anyway – they’d been too busy training and then fighting and it’s not like there’d ever been a reason to keep track of those things.

Humans and Twi’leks didn’t have babies. That wasn’t a thing, at least not a significant thing.

Numa had been following her around a lot though, and she’d been doing it for several weeks. It wasn’t normal that Numa was so active about the Sanctuary that way. She usually stayed at the maw of the cavern in case they should have any unexpected guests. Hera assumed that it was a sign of something to come that just hadn’t happened yet.

Warily, Hera looked up at the giant white Loth wolf. She almost didn’t want to ask the question, let alone know the answer. 

“Is that really what’s wrong with me?” she asked anyway, her voice quiet. “I’m pregnant?”

In response, Numa gave a soft whine and a nudge of her shoulder.

Chapter Text

While his wife was an incredibly gifted pilot, a fierce combatant, and an excellent leader there was one thing that she’d always been utterly and completely terrible at: lying.

For as long as they’d been together – almost all of their lives minus a couple of awful years they’d both rather forget – Hera was always the first one out of bed. She was always the last one to bed, provided Caleb hadn’t coaxed her there himself. Even as infants, Caleb slept more than she did. She never slept, she never got sick, she was always ready to go for almost anything.

In all of their years together, the most that she’d ever dealt with were headaches and even then it was only her talkative lekku that did the complaining about them, not Hera. Still, he knew something wasn’t right. She kept telling him that it was nothing, that she was just tired.

She was a horrible liar.

Quinlan and Tala had just returned from checking in on a Force-sensitive family that had elected to leave the Sanctuary and then picking up a round of supplies. Usually, when anybody came in with supplies, Hera was always right there, diligently checking everything in on her datapad. She never trusted anybody else to do it; she had a system.

There were supplies and things to be checked in. Quinlan was standing right beside those things with that face that always made Hera say something sarcastic to him. Tala, though, was notoriously absent.

And Hera wasn’t checking in the supplies.

The two men eyed each other suspiciously for several long minutes in silence. 

Caleb was the first to break. “Okay, where are they? What’s going on?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? I was going to ask you the same question,” Quinlan blurted out. “Tala is acting all weird.”

“Hera is too,” Caleb bemoaned and then stopped. “Wait, what’s Tala doing?”

“I don’t know,” he answered with a wave of his hand. “Being all secretive. She keeps disappearing every time we stop somewhere and she’s buying something but she won’t say what. Any time I ask her about it, she tells me it’s none of my business or that I’m being paranoid and it’s just supplies.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Quinlan narrowed his eyes at Caleb. “What’s Hera doing?”

“She’s just being weird,” he sighed. “I swear that she sleeps more than I do and we’ve never been like that. I mean, ever. Even when we were infants she didn’t sleep as much as I did.”

“You are a sloth,” Quinlan agreed with a slight nod. “Just sleeping, though? Maybe she’s got something on her mind.”

Caleb shook his head. “No, I’d know if she was worried about something. She can’t hide that from me.” 

“Can she hide anything from you?” he countered.

After a moment, he shrugged. “I guess not? Maybe I’m just being paranoid and she really is just tired. I would think if it was something like her being sick or it being bad foodstuff, that it would have worn off by now. It’s been weeks.” 

Quinlan stared at him blankly before proceeding to slowly ask, “Why would you think it’s bad foodstuff?”

Giving a shrug he recounted the only odd thing that came to mind outside of her new sleeping habits, rambling the answer off. “There was a day a couple weeks ago, I made some rycrit for dinner and she didn’t want to touch it. She couldn’t even handle the smell of it. I’ve never seen her get sick and I thought she was going to be. But her sense of smell is stronger than ours so I thought maybe it had gone bad. But like I said, that’s been weeks ago. It wouldn’t be that.”

Groaning, Quinlan brought his palms to his face. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Have you made rycrit since?”

Caleb felt his face contort in confusion. Why the hells would that matter? “No, she hasn’t wanted it.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned again.

“What? What’s wrong?” Caleb asked. “I don’t get it.” 

Grabbing him none too gently by the arm, Quinlan dragged Caleb toward the medbay. Why they were going to the medbay, he had no clue. Tala wasn’t a medic and Hera was just tired; she wasn’t sick. 

Numa sat at the entrance of the medbay and gave a low growl as they approached. Caleb looked at the Loth wolf dubiously. “Really, Numa? You know I’m not scared of you. What are you doing?”

Beyond the protective wolf, he could hear Hera’s voice.

Maybe we should do another one to be sure. 

Hera, if I take any more blood, you’re not going to have any left. I think that five is plenty of confirmation. A sixth one isn’t going to change the results.

But we only did two Twi’lek ones and three Human ones. Maybe if we do another Twi’lek one—

This is a good thing. It’s okay. Tala’s voice was gentle. 

She even sounded happy.

“Move it, Numa,” Caleb said, nudging past the still growling wolf, who responded by giving a rough nudge of her nose to send him landing face first on the ground. 

Hera jumped up from the cot just in front of him. When he looked up, he could see that she was holding a gauze strip to the crook of her elbow and her face was flushed. Green eyes widened as they stared down at him and her mouth fell open. 

“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret,” she said immediately. “I just didn’t know. I wanted to be sure. I swear I wasn’t—” Hera fell quiet and she seemed to be trying to search for some sort of words that wouldn’t come.

Caleb got to his feet and it was then that he saw a myriad of little plasform containers with little lines or signs that he didn’t understand. He looked back to Hera in confusion. “What do you mean you weren’t trying to keep it a secret? Hera, what’s going on?”

Quinlan came up behind him, placing an entirely unnecessary firm grip on his shoulder that he’d feel for the next couple days.

“You know how Twi’leks and Humans only have children at a rate of one in every three million?” he asked, sarcasm oozing from his voice. “Who would have ever guessed that the Twi’lek and Human born bonded in the fucking Force would fall into that one in every three million category?”

Feeling his eyes grow wider, Caleb looked to Hera for confirmation. She gave a slight nod, her eyes just as wide as his. Was that a smile on her lips? Was she going to cry? Was that what was wrong with her this whole time?

Caleb wasn’t sure and he didn’t get a chance to ask. The only thing he was sure of is that Quinlan definitely didn’t try to catch him before he hit the ground. 

Chapter Text

“Seriously, how much vomit can one person hold?” Trilla asked, holding Hera’s lekku back from her face. “And don’t you have to, y’know, eat something, in order to puke it back up?”

“Fucking Human hormones,” Hera muttered, her face still buried in her bucket. The stuff had gotten so bad that she had her own damn designated bucket. Now that there was nothing really coming up anymore, it was a matter of dry heaving for the next two hours. That was, at least until she tried to put something in her stomach again.

“Twi’leks don’t get morning sickness?” Trilla asked.

The woman had been a non-stop string of curiosities ever since there was official confirmation that Hera was indeed pregnant. If Hera had the energy or the strength to tell her to go the fuck away, she would. But at least she was good for holding her lekku out of the way when Caleb wasn’t there to do it; which was often considering that Caleb seemed to have an incredibly weak stomach when it came to her incessantly irritated stomach.

Humans. Fucking. Humans.

“Not like this,” she mumbled, pushing herself up. 

“Hey, easy,” Trilla said, lurching forward. “The last time you sat up like that, you passed out on me. Numa was not happy about it either,” she said, grabbing Hera’s shoulders. “And I think we need to hook you back up to those fluids. This is like the eighth time you’ve puked today.”

“I think you just want a reason to jam a needle in my arm again,” Hera grumbled. 

“That’s my reward for listening to you puke all freaking day,” Trilla replied, the grin evident in her voice. “Come on. I don’t want a lecture from gramps about not doing my job”

Hera let the taller woman pull an arm over her shoulder and hoist her off the ground and back toward one of the cots in the medbay.

If this is what the next however many months was going to be like, she wasn’t sure she was going to survive. Hera Syndulla-Dume, Jedi Knight, Survivor of Order 66, victor in the war against the tyranny of the Galactic Empire – cause of death? 

Puking.

Trilla just as gentle as she always was while she started yet another IV. For all of the cross words and snark that she normally spouted off, she really was something of a soft hearted soul. She didn’t mind teaching Padawans but her true weakness was for the younglings. Cere had mentioned a long time ago that she’d practically raised the younglings they saved.

Idly, she wondered if that’s why the woman had taken up spending so much time with her. Even if Trilla wouldn’t say it out loud, maybe she was genuinely excited that Hera was pregnant. For all of the moaning about her puking and the millions of questions she asked, she seemed to want to take care of her. 

It made Hera feel slightly guilty for being short with her most of the time. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Don’t mention it,” Trilla said, waving it off. “Like I said, it’s my reward for dealing with all of the puke.”

Silence lingered between them for a few moments. Hera watched with half opened eyes as Trilla pretended to check the IV bag and line, and then glanced at the catheter in her arm, feeling around the insertion site with her fingertips to make sure that the fluids weren’t infiltrating the tissue. Every once in a while, though, Hera caught Trilla’s gaze drifting to her abdomen. 

There wasn’t a lot of information on hybrid pregnancies and what to expect. They knew from the holocron that Caleb was a fairly big baby, at least at three months old. Hera was abnormally small so they couldn’t go based on her stature. All she knew is that her clothes no longer fit and her stomach already felt huge despite the fact that she couldn’t keep anything down. If everything on the holonet was right, she wasn’t even at the halfway point, yet.

“You’re staring at my giant stomach,” Hera commented dryly. “I haven’t felt anything yet if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s just a whole lot of huge.”

Trilla’s face flushed slightly. “I didn’t mean to. Not really anyway. It’s just – you’re not that far along for a Human pregnancy and a Twi’lek pregnancy is supposedly only three weeks shorter. I feel like that’s a whole lot of baby bump for someone who is only supposed to be around sixteen weeks pregnant.”

“Caleb was a big baby,” she mumbled, although she was certain that Trilla had made Hera show her the holos at least four times. She already knew Caleb was a big baby and she already knew that Hera was incessantly pissed off for three months and didn’t grow as a result. They’d been over it a million times. Using either one of them as an estimation of what to expect was pointless.

“No,” Trilla said slowly. “Hera, I really don’t think that’s all Caleb. Not by himself anyway.”

Hera opened one eye to look at her. “What are you talking about now?”

“I know that the whole baby thing was a crazy long shot anyway and there isn’t much data…but have you ever seen anything about Humans and Twi’leks having more than one baby?” Trilla asked slowly.

“I think there was one on Ryloth? Or I thought I read about one,” Hera mumbled, closing her eyes again. “I think the kids were like two years apart, but he was a clone– and I don’t even know if the story was accur—”

“No,” she said, interrupting Hera’s explanation. “I mean more than one baby at the same time. From the same pregnancy.”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked at Trilla who looked a little too excited by the idea.

“No,” she answered immediately. “And it’s not possible. There’s no way it’s possible. Plus there’s a chance that— I mean, I’m still puking and stuff and it seems to be growing but everything says that until you make it to six months that hybrid pregnancies are touchy and even then there’s chances of birth defects and– there’s no way there’s more than one in there. I already told you that we’re not getting our hopes up about one. Even one was practically impossible. Two is definitely not a thing.”

“Double the Human hormones could be double the misery,” Trilla shrugged. “It would explain a lot because that belly is all baby. Plus it wouldn’t be the first time that you and Caleb did something freaky weird.”

Hera remained quiet for several moments. This hadn’t been something that she and Caleb were expecting to begin with. He was over the moons, outside of the part where she was constantly vomiting. But Hera? She was terrified. She couldn’t keep anything down, she was already of an abnormally petite stature and Caleb was huge. Most importantly, almost all hybrid pregnancies didn’t end happily. 

Anything and everything she could find on the holonet always carried that harsh reminder.

“I’m actively not thinking about it,” she finally said. It was the closest that she’d come to an admission that she was scared. 

“Well, since I’m stuck being your nurse-maid, I’m actively thinking about it for you and I’m going to have the medic to get us some stronger no puking meds and maybe some fluids with some sort of nutrients in them,” Trilla answered in a tone that sounded annoyed but came with a gentle squeeze of Hera’s hand. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

Chapter Text

“Love, is there any more of that meiloorun juice in the conservator?” Hera called out from the bedroom. 

Caleb shuffled tiredly back into the kitchen that he’d just walked out of, his arms already full of red root chips and leftover nerf. He dug through the conservator to find the juice that his wife was going through at a rate that would put the galaxy at a deficit by the end of her pregnancy. Even though he knew that she wouldn’t use it, he grabbed a cup so she could pretend to feel at least slightly civilized before chugging it straight from the bottle. 

While he was happy that her appetite returned, he sure as hells missed sleeping. For whatever reason, her appetite seemed to only come around at three in the morning. After making his way back to the bedroom, he settled against the headboard of their bed, shifting from the position of husband to server droid.

“Juice first, babe?” he asked tiredly.

Hera snorted at that. “I am far from a babe right now. I look like one of those puffer pigs.”

And now it was time for the shift back to husband.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured, leaning over to press a kiss against her temple. Gingerly, he ran his hand over her growing belly and then leaned over to leave a kiss there. He whispered to their still growing child that he loved them. That was something he could do for hours, no matter what time of the day or night: just talk to their baby about everything and nothing at all. Sometimes he’d sing to them if Hera would put up with it. 

He looked up to notice that Hera hadn’t touched any of the food that he brought her. There was an odd expression on her face instead. It wasn’t pain, concern, or fear. It looked more like confusion. The expression faded momentarily and then just as quickly returned.

“Caleb,” she said with a soft gasp, grabbing his hand. She pulled his hand to the opposite side of her very pregnant belly and pressed her hand over his. 

“What is it?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Wait,” she murmured. After a few minutes of nothing, she frowned. “Talk to it again.”

Doing as he was told, he lowered his lips to her abdomen, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Your mother says I have to talk to you. Little does she know that it’s three fifteen in the morning and I have a class at why do you hate us thirty, but you’ll learn quickly that you have to do what your mother says because she’s absolutely terrifying if you–”

And then he felt it, just a small thump against the palm of his hand. He looked up at Hera in wonder, his eyes widening. “Is that?”

She nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. “I think so.”

They knew that the baby was growing, they were still waiting on a scanner being brought in that could give them confirmation that the development was okay, but this was the first time that the baby had actually moved, at least that he’d felt. There’d been a couple times that Hera thought maybe she felt something but it wasn’t anything consistent and she was too afraid to believe it was the baby.

But this, he could feel. He felt their baby moving. 

Their baby was growing and moving. 

Even with the wide grin on his face and his hand still pressed against the opposite side of her stomach, he pressed another kiss against her growing belly. He laid his ear against her stomach, as if he would be able hear something going on inside if he listened hard enough. 

“I love you,” he murmured. “I love you both so much.”

His words were answered with a solid thump against his jaw. With his brows knitted together, he looked up at Hera. “Did you–”

Hera’s eyes were wide. Her hand flew to the side of her belly that he’d been resting his cheek against. “That can’t be right,” she said, almost to herself. “It was just over here.”

“They’re still over there,” he said, feeling the thump beneath his hand.

“But how can it be over here too? There’s no way that it could be that big, not unless you’re part bantha,” she said, shaking her head. “There has to be something wrong.”

Caleb traced both of his hands lovingly along her stomach, still feeling the occasional thump on completely opposite sides.

“Hera,” he said slowly. “I don’t think that the baby is as big as we think it is and I don’t think it’s anything wrong. I think there’s two babies in there.” 

Chapter Text

“Okay, I do not remember sending out any invitations to this private party,” Hera said pointedly, glaring at everybody who wasn’t her husband that had gathered in the medbay. 

“I’ve been holding your lekku out of your face for the better part of the past six months. I didn’t need a ticket for this event because I totally earned it,” Trilla answered. She made it clear that she had no intention of leaving by moving in closer on the screen of the scanner that hadn’t even been powered up yet.

“I’m on a need-to-know basis because I’m the one who has to figure out where to find a fucking medic that knows how to handle hybrid pregnancies,” Quinlan grumbled. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

“Language!” Caleb scowled. “Not in front of my kids.”

Cal’s pale face flushed, nearly matching the color of his hair. He rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted, “There might have a pool going about how big it is.”

“You,” Hera said, extending her finger at him. “Out. Now.”

That left Tala. She gave a gentle smile and there was sympathy in her gaze. “I’m just anxious to see. I can step out,” she offered quietly.

Hera shook her head. “No, you can stay.”

“Still quite the crowd,” the medic chuckled, powering up the machine. 

“It’s going to be a smaller crowd if anybody so much as says a word about how enormous I am because I’ll kick them off of a cliff myself,” Hera muttered, looking pointedly at Trilla.

“I helped you puke,” she reminded her. “And I’m waiting to say I told you so when there are two of them in there.”

Quinlan scoffed. “What the hell do you mean there’s two in there? There aren’t two in there. There can’t be two in there.”

Tala shushed him, taking that same gentle chiding tone that she often did with him. “There can be two in there. It wouldn’t be the first set of twins in the galaxy.”

“I’m fairly certain that it would be the first set of hybrid twins in the galaxy though,” the medic pointed out, seeming almost gleeful at the idea. 

Hera already felt like the size of the bantha and if everything was okay – which, if the fact that they spent most of their waking hours trying to break her ribs was any indication, they were – they still weren’t done growing. 

When did she start thinking of them as they?

When did she start knowing there were two in there without having to see it on a screen?

Silence fell over the small gathering around her.

Hera gripped Caleb’s hand tighter; partially because she was scared there still might be something wrong and partially because she was afraid he’d pass out again like he did when he found out she was pregnant. The medic dropped a whole lot of blue goo on her stomach and slid a transducer over her abdomen. She held her breath, waiting to see anything, to have confirmation that everything was okay.

The smile on the medic’s face told her the one thing she somehow already knew. 

“There are most definitely two in there,” she said, pointing to the outlines on the screen. It wasn’t the greatest picture but it was easy to see there was more than one baby. 

“Holy shit, I was right!” Trilla said with a triumphant pump of her fist in the air.

“Language!” Caleb said again. “They can hear you!”

“Well, if they’re anything like their mother, their first word will be fu–” Trilla started but then stopped when Hera glared at her.

The medic laughed lightly and continued to scan along her enormous belly. “I see lekku bumps here,” she said, pointing to the two outlines along one of the heads. “So somebody takes after mom.”

Hera didn’t care if they took after her. She cared if they were okay. After several more minutes of waiting, the tech pointed to the screen again, “No lekku here, so we’ve got one that takes after dad, too.” 

“But what about everything else?” Hera blurted out. “Do they have arms and legs and eyes and hearts and – all of the vital things. I don’t care who they look like. I care if they’re actually healthy and not going to be…like all the articles say they’ll be.”

The medic laid a hand over Hera’s, which was she wildly flailing about. “They’re both perfect and healthy. I see no developmental abnormalities at all.” 

“This isn’t going to work,” Quinlan said with his hand covering his mouth. “We have to leave, Hera. There’s no way we can do this here.”

“What?” she asked, practically coming up off of the cot. “What do you mean, leave? I’m not leaving.”

“Delivering one baby was going to be scary enough…but two?” he asked, incredulously. “We can’t do that here, Hera. What if something happens beyond our capabilities? What if something happens to you?” 

“And what if there are still people out there looking for–”

The medic cleared her throat, silencing all of them. “For now, mom and the babies are healthy. We’ll keep a close eye on everybody and go from there.”

Hera was not in the least oblivious to the fact that the medic was looking directly at Quinlan as she spoke. Silently, she was already telling him that he needed to start looking for someplace safe, someplace equipped to deal with twins at the least. The medic’s words of reassurance weren’t the truth; they were a means of trying to keep Hera calm. 

That was fine. 

Let them think that they’d lulled her into believing them.

She didn’t have to tell them if she was going into labor. She didn’t have to leave the Sanctuary, their home, to give birth to her children. She’d be fine right here and she’d prove it whether they liked it or not.

Chapter Text

“Unless you’ve come bearing meiloorun juice, nerf steaks, or a way to accelerate this pregnancy, I highly recommend not going in there,” Caleb grumbled at Quinlan as he stalked toward the medbay.

“Kicked out again?” he asked with a smug grin.

“Fourth time today. One more time and it will be a record,” he drawled. “She has never been able to sit still.”

“Yeah. When the medic said bedrest, I almost offered to take you to the other side of the galaxy to wait this one out,” Quinlan smirked. “Medic say anything about how the babies are looking?”

“Still strong. Still growing. They just don’t have much more room to grow. I told the medic they needed to make sure there weren’t any sharp objects closeby because I think Hera’s considering removing vital organs just to prove a point,” Caleb sighed. “Bedrest isn’t going to hold her over much longer. At the very best, the medic think she’s got four weeks if she stays on her ass like she’s supposed to.”

“Worst case scenario?” he asked.

“There’s nowhere else for them to go but out and the medic says based on her experience with normal twins, she’s giving it two weeks tops and she said that was being generous. Hera won’t hear it. Twi tried to break a rib yesterday and nearly succeeded, I think. Hairy is too low for the medic’s comfort,” Caleb sighed.

He rubbed his hands over his face, the exhaustion of the past few months having fully caught up to him. “She was there. She knows that the Empire is gone. I don’t understand why she’s so resistant to letting us get her to a medcenter that can make sure that all three of them are safe.”

“You may have been a little sedated or near dead at the time, but I remember an eighteen year old woman who didn’t trust the people I implicitly told her to trust with you. She wouldn’t move from your side until I turned her own tricks against her. Only this time, there’s no tricks to be used. She’s being protective of her babies,” Quinlan explained. “It may literally take sedating her to get her out of here and to someplace that can handle this delivery.”

“No, I don’t want to do that,” Caleb said resolutely. “She’ll see sense. I think a couple more days and the more scans she sees, the more that she’ll understand that we can’t stay here to do this.”

Quinlan chuckled darkly. “Have you met your wife? I bet she’d sooner go into labor and try to tough it out on her own to prove a point before she told anybody that she’s actually in labor.”

“That’s why I’m sitting here,” he sighed. “I figure if she keeps kicking me out, at least I can hear something if she starts having problems. Trilla and Tala volunteered to take shifts watching her as well. The problem is that I don’t know what to do after that.”

“I’m working on that part,” Quinlan assured him. “Capital City Med knows they can handle the twins. They aren’t sure about the hybrid part, but really – who is? If we can at least convince her that we’re staying on Lothal and not going too far, maybe she’ll change her mind.”

“And if not?” 

“Then we sedate her,” Quinlan responded. The words sounded nothing like a joke.

Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night when she woke to a sharp and cramping pain tearing through her lower abdomen. The intensity of it was so much greater than those of what the medic had called ‘practice contractions’. She clenched her jaw tight, trying to breathe through her nose, doing her best to not make a sound. 

The medic said four weeks at best.

It had only been twelve days and she’d stayed in bed like they told her to.

The cramping eased up and she let out a slow and steady breath. She felt the shift of the babies inside her, both of them noticeably lower in her stomach than they’d been before. The medic’s words kept echoing through her mind: the only place left for them to go is out.

Out.

Out where there could still be at least one person looking for Jedi, for Force-sensitives, for babies. Her babies. 

Breathing and digging her nails into her legs kept her quiet through another two rounds of the contractions that seemed to come too close together. 

They were safe here, they were all safe here, and they would be fine. She’d done way more difficult stuff in her life. Just because some stupid medic and Quinlan and practically everybody else was telling her she couldn’t, she knew that she could. She was going to, whether they liked it or not.

Another few minutes passed and she started to relax, thinking that maybe it had just been another one of those fake contractions because they were so irregular, when another one hit. She couldn’t stop the loud whimper that escaped her lips before she clamped her hand over her mouth. There was no way she was leaving the Sanctuary.

Hera knew she could do this.

As the cramping subsided, a strong wave of nausea swept over her and she looked around frantically for the bucket that she kept by her bed, though she hadn’t really needed it. With her hand still clamped over her mouth, she sat up, trying to breathe her way through the nausea. Just as she did, the bucket appeared in front of her and a pair of familiar hands pulled back her lekku.

“It’s time to go, Momma,” Trilla told her in an unusually gentle voice. “I’ve been sitting in the corner behind you for almost an hour and those aren’t letting up. It’s time. You can’t do this here.”

Hera shook her head fervently in between dry heaves. “I can.”

“You can’t,” Trilla said again, this time more firmly. “You’re not going to. I’ve spent too much time being your nurse-maid and holding your lekku while you puke not to get to hold these babies. I also need to keep you around so when they do something gross like spit up, I can give them back to their mother.”

Emotion pricked the corner of Hera’s eyes, a combination of pain and being afraid of what was out there. “We can do it here,” she repeated helplessly. “We could have missed something, someone could still be looking for–”

Trilla’s hand rubbed her back gently. “You’re right. We don’t know what’s out there. But if you think I’m not going to be standing outside that medcenter with my lightsaber blazing, ready to stop anything or anybody that messes with my nieces or nephews or whatever things you’ve been growing, you’re wrong. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten in a good fight, anyway.”

Hera looked up at her, tears slipping down her cheeks as she clutched her stomach. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cal and Zatt, too. We’ll keep you safe, Hera, all of you. But you have to stop being a stubborn pain in the ass,” she said. “Especially when those babies have to deal with whatever happens when you’re a pain in the ass, too.”

A shuddering breath left her lips as her stomach tightened again. Despite the pain gripping her, she finally nodded. 

Trilla gave a high whistle and Numa was there a second later. “That’s good because Quinlan’s plan was to drug you and he already has the medcenter on alert. Caleb is warming up the U-Wing.”

With Trilla’s help, Hera had barely made it onto Numa’s back before she froze. “Wait, Caleb is warming up the U-Wing? He’s not flying is he??”

The woman snorted. “Fuck no. I said I wanted to meet these babies. We’ll be lucky if he’s conscious by the time we reach the med center. I’m flying.”

Hera let out a soft sigh of relief and then hunched forward, holding onto Numa with one hand and curling her arm over her stomach with the other.

“Thank fuck,” she mumbled and then quickly added, “don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll consider it. As long as you promise I get to hold them after Caleb does,” Trilla grinned, walking alongside Numa as they slowly made their way to the tunnel.

Chapter Text

Technically, things weren’t supposed to work this way. It should have been Hera holding their children, introducing them to him for the first time. It should have been her chest that they laid against for the first time, her face the first thing that they saw.

The medic had told them that Hera’s petite stature would be a challenge. It was something that they’d planned for. 

What they hadn’t planned for is Twi to go into distress while Hera was stubbornly trying to do it herself. They hadn’t counted on Hairy to quickly follow suit. At least they’d ‘partially planned’ on Hera starting to hemorrhage; the medic said partially planned because actually planning for it meant it was going to happen without a doubt. 

Using the phrase partially planned didn’t prevent it from happening but it sure as hell kept Hera alive.  

Things weren’t supposed to have gone this way but they had. 

Hera was slow to wake up from the anesthesia. The specialist told him that it was likely a combination of how long she’d fought to try to deliver the babies naturally and the sheer exhaustion from that, along what he suspected was an intolerance to sedating medications. They’d assured Caleb, multiple times, that she was recovering as expected.

Even then, he still felt unsettled, seeing how pale she was in combination with all of the fluids and the blood being transfused into her body; all of the things they were using in an attempt replace what she lost. 

Carefully, he leaned over and kissed the top of her head, murmuring a soft I love you. It was only the thirtieth time he’d done it in the past ten minutes. This time, it seemed to have worked.

“Caleb?” she murmured, her eyes still closed and voice hoarse, still thick with sedation. 

“I’m here,” he assured her. “Everything is okay.”

When she tried to shift in bed, she gave a slight whimper and her hand flew to her abdomen. 

“Take it easy. They had to work fast so you’ve got quite the incision,” he soothed. “Let me help you.”

Still heavily drugged, Hera waved his hand away. “I don’t need hel–” the words seemed to finally register and she forced her eyes open. It was obvious that she was still very much under the effect of all the medications by the glazed over look in her eyes. “No, wait. Wait. What happened? What do you mean?”

Caleb smiled gently, easing an arm around her to help her adjust in bed so she looked a little more comfortable; or at least not laying at such an awkward angle. “You gave me two beautiful and healthy babies in a somewhat dramatic fashion,” he answered soothingly

Hera smiled, her eyes still too heavy to stay open. “They’re okay?”

“They’re absolutely perfect, Hera,” he said softly. “I can’t believe how amazing they are, how amazing you are.”

With a sad smile, he watched as she tried to force her eyes open, fighting the effects of the anesthesia and analgesics they’d given her. 

“Wanna see them,” she mumbled.

“As soon as we get you awake,” he assured her. 

“Mm awake now.”

“Okay,” Caleb said with a small smile, knowing that she was already half asleep again. They told him that it would be a while before she would come around and he had been worrying. Talking to her, if only for a couple of minutes, eased that worry. All three of them really were okay.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but he didn’t mind. They were all healthy.

Just a little while longer and they’d all be together; Okz and Okebo, A’kei and Sama. 

Chapter Text

“Not going to lie, I never pictured Caleb with green skin but I think it’s kind of an improvement to the original,” Trilla said, her voice pitched so much higher than normal as she cooed her words in the direction of the infant in her arms. 

“No, he looks like his mother,” Caleb contended. 

Hera looked up from her daughter, who was alternating between nursing and dozing, with a bemused smile on her face. “That kid might have my skin tone, but that his those ears are the only thing he got from me. Now this one, on the other hand,” she said, looking down at her daughter. 

The little one they’d referred to as Twi had Caleb's skin tone but it was lightly speckled with little jade freckles over her face, chest, and arms. Her eyes were the same striking blue green of her father’s but thankfully the girl had gotten Hera’s nose and chin.

Both of them were so much more perfect than she could have ever imagined, then she’d even let herself imagine.

But then again, she’d never imagined anything like this; a future where they’d become parents. 

If somebody had told her when they were sixteen that this would be their lives one day, she would have laughed in their face. That wasn’t how the Jedi Order worked. Their lives would be trying to find time for each other in between training Padawans and fighting shadow syndicates. That was her idea of a perfect life when she was sixteen.

Now? 

Now she couldn’t picture a life that was more perfect. 

For the third time, Trilla’s comm link went off and she groaned. “I’m the one who dealt with all the puking. I think I deserve five more minutes.”

“He’s just gonna keep doing it until you let him take his turn,” Hera smirked. “Go on. I’m sure you’ll be back here in twenty minutes trying to abduct my children.”

With an exaggerated groan, Trilla put the boy in Caleb’s arms and then reached out to run a fingertip over the one of baby girl’s lekku bump. “I told you everything would be okay, Momma.”

Hera smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

Trilla gave a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, well, you still owe me. That was a whole lot of puke.”

Caleb chuckled as she left them alone. “It’s terrifying how she is the way she is but she turns into a puddle of mush for babies.”

Trying her best to adjust her gown and failing miserably, Hera finally gave up, and settled for pulling up her blankets instead. She might have been eager for Quinlan to meet the babies but she certainly wasn’t interested in showing him anything else.

A slight smile tugged at her lips. “I’m pretty sure that the promise of babies was the only reason she was so eager to hold the bucket.”

Before Caleb could respond, Quinlan all but burst into the room. “It’s about damn time that I finally get to see these babies,” he grumbled loudly.

“Language,” Caleb reminded him, but it was with a smile on his face. 

Hera’s eyes met Quinlan’s and it seemed like there was pride in his eyes; like he’d recognized the impossibility of this life that they’d all found together. 

“At least I said damn,” he muttered at Caleb before turning his attention to Hera.

“You look like banthashit,” he told her gently, reaching out to grab her hand in a grip that was gentle. There was a whole lot of concern and an easily discerned look of relief in his eyes. “Maybe don’t give us a scare like that anymore?” 

“Oh no,” Hera said. “This was definitely a one-time thing since these two decided to break everything on their way out. You better enjoy it while you can.”

Quinlan’s gaze softened as he allowed his eyes to fall to the baby girl in her arms for the first time. When she extended her daughter out for him to hold her, he eagerly accepted the offer.

“What’s her name?” he asked, his voice strained in a way that she’d rarely heard.

“We named her Jo,” Hera murmured. 

“For Jocasta,” he said fondly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Caleb pushed himself out of the chair he’d been sitting in and nudged Quinlan toward it. “Sit your grumpy butt down,” he said jokingly. “There’s two of them, y’know. I don’t trust you to handle them both standing up, old man.”

With an eagerness that Quinlan had never shown them, he did exactly as he was told. Hera watched as her jade skinned baby boy, with all of his thick dark brown hair and the beginnings of his father’s same heavy brow, was carefully deposited into Quinlan’s arms. 

“I would have never imagined that you’d look good in green, but it’s absolutely an improvement,” Quinlan said, sounding more awed than sarcastic.

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” Caleb asked, feigning exasperation. He already loved his son and everything about him more than anything in the world and it was obvious to everybody. The commentary that he looked better in green was something he’d easily forgive.

Obviously too taken with the two infants in his arms to respond to Caleb’s dramatics, Quinlan’s eyes fell to her son.

“What’s his name?” he murmured.

A sudden wave of unexpected tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. Fucking Human hormones. Hera smiled softly as she looked up at the man who saved her from one very stupid decision so many years ago and a couple of subsequent stupid decisions after that. The man who cared for her when she had nobody left in the galaxy and nursed her back to health even when she was being a stubborn ass teenager. The man who helped her find Caleb against all odds. Who saved their lives from the Inquisitors. Who helped her protect the Sanctuary. Who helped them take the galaxy back.

Who made the galaxy safe for her babies.

There was only one way that she could ever thank him for everything that he’d put up with, for all that he’d ever done for her and Caleb. 

She watched him closely as she answered his question in a soft voice. ”We decided that we wanted to name him Quin.” 

A single tear streaked down his dark skin, skidding across the golden tattoo across his face. She could tell by the line of the tattoo, even though most of his face was obscured by his hair, that his face was turned up in a smile. She could see that maybe, perhaps, somehow, had finally happened. 

She could see her son was calling Quinlan home to stay and asking him to look toward the future. 

As she watched him closely, there wasn’t a doubt in Hera’s mind that Quinlan was listening. 

Okz and Okebo, A’kei and Sama.

Zen’ka.

Husband and Wife. Son and Daughter.

Family.