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The only memories Asajj had of her mother were short spurts of sound and vague shapes, and occasionally those shapes would form up to make something physical-- a hand caressing her cheek, a face smiling down at her.
Sometimes, she even remembered the faint whisper of song. Gentle lullabies that would sweep her off to sleep in the wee hours of the night.
She supposed they were the same sort of memories most people might have if they’d only known their mother as an infant. Asajj didn’t usually linger on thoughts of the mother she never knew, wondering what her name might have been. Was she a warrior like her? A healer? Did her mother have a deep connection to the spirits as Asajj had observed many of the other Nightsisters had?
There were so many questions (too many questions) that she had surrounding this stranger who had birthed her only to give her away. How could she hand over her child, her own flesh and blood, to some pirate? The rare occasions that Asajj did think about her, she often mulled over how she could have allowed Mother Talzin to convince her to do such a thing. Surely the Nightsisters could have defended themselves against a lowly band of pirates!
They were more knowledgeable, more powerful, and had a sense of unity she hadn’t experienced in any other setting. How could they allow themselves to be threatened by Hal’stad and his men? What did Mother Talzin seek to gain by bowing to his wishes and letting him whisk one of her clan’s children off with him?
The thought angered her-- the women of her clan should have fought to protect her! She was just as much of a Nightsister as the rest of them, so why… why did they let him take her?
Her heart grew heavy, knowing that her sisters had sacrificed her for their own well being and security. Even if she understood there was no other way, Asajj didn’t want to accept that her life could be given up by the only family she’d ever known so easily, given up to serve a master whom gave her no other choice but to do as he wished.
It made her bitter and heartbroken, but how could she blame them?
Because even though they’d given her up, when Asajj had nowhere else to turn they accepted her back with open arms. They gave her a home again, a place she was safe. Safety was something she hadn’t felt since before Master Narec’s death… and they gave it to her willingly.
But they could never give back all those years when, instead of laying peaceful in her mother’s arms, being sung to and loved, she was forced to act as a slave for men who didn’t give a damn about her. If only, she had wished, she could have heard her mother’s lullaby one last time.
Then maybe all those years spent without someone to care for her might have been so much easier.