Chapter Text
Orson Krennic was scared of very few things, but secretly, one of those things was children. They were loud, ran around, did what they wanted and, most of all, said exactly what was on their mind right to your face. But Lio had told him that all children got older and you could teach them to listen to you, if you did a good job as a parent. He had also told Orson that there were few greater things one could with ones life apart from raising another good citizen of the Empire and, against his better judgement, that had swung it.
Nevertheless, Krennic remained mildly nervous when they stepped into the Kinderblock some half past midday, asking to see which children were up for adoption.
“We have a spread,” said the Caregiver lazily, waving at the room full of children. “Take your pick.”
“Can we talk to them?” asked Lio, and Krennic looked at him nervously. He didn’t think he had spoken to a single child since he himself had been one. Maybe this was a bad idea…
“Sure,” shrugged the Caregiver lazily. “If they want to talk to you.”
The two of them had awkwardly stood by the door as in front of them, the screams and chatter of children echoed around the room. Every so often, Orson would wince at a yell, turn away as one child attempted to tug the hair off another, duck as a ball flew his way.
“Maybe children aren’t for us, Lio,” he said. “This is a lot of… chaos. Perhaps a fish would be better.”
“We already have a whole fish tank embedded into our living room wall,” Partagaz replied. “One day you will have no more space for any more fish.”
“We can always buy another tank,” said Krennic sulkily, shaking his head as he looked around the room one more.
Then he saw her. She was small, so very small, her knees tucked into her chest as she read from a child’s datapad, oblivious to the world around her. Something in Krennic’s gut landed softly, reached up a tentative hand, and tugged on his heart.
“That one,” he said to Lio. “That little girl there.”
The Caregiver looked up from inspecting his nails, peering over in the direction that Krennic pointed.
“That kid? Her name’s Dedra. Dedra Meero. Parents got put away for something or other, they’re in a prison somewhere, I think. She’s a quiet one, though,” he said.
Krennic turned to Partagaz, a knowing look on his face and, just as he suspected, his husband also had a twinkle of a smile in his eyes.
Lio held her all the way home. She had fallen asleep some ten minutes into the journey, and Krennic had almost been alarmed had how unresisting she had been. She had said a light hello when the Caregiver had explained that they were looking to adopt her, and not much else. But her eyes… Krennic noticed how she looked everywhere, drinking in every little thing her gaze touched. Whether it pleased her or not, he was not quite sure, but Krennic approved. There was something in his gut that felt good about this little one.
He had held back as Lio had carried into the bedroom they had prepared, had set her down gently on the bed. She had continued to sleep, and the two of them had quietly switched off the lights and taken a step back to give her some space.
“I’m sure it’s very overwhelming for her,” Lio had said.
“What do we do now?” said Orson. “Get her some bread? Bring here some cookies?”
Lio stared at him, flabbergasted.
“She’s not a pigeon, Orson,” he chided. “Let’s just come back a little later.”
A little later, when they both dared to check in, she was sitting formally on the bed, wide blue eyes open and looking at them.
“Hello Dedra,” said Lio. “Would you like some dinner with us?”
The first week sped by, and Krennic had never felt so exhausted in his entire life. He had taken the week off work in order to ensure that he could do his new dad duties properly, but he had still not realised that taking care of a small human being would be quite so draining.
The second day in, she had started to speak. Lio had taken many efforts to explain to her that they were going to be her new fathers, but she had merely nodded at the time and the two of them had worried that she might not be happy considering them her new parents.
So Krennic had nearly punched the air when, later that evening, she had asked him if he could read to her.
“Please, Papa?” she added quietly.
“She called me Papa,” he said to Lio, when the two of them were settling down for bed later that night. Me! Papa. Her first words to us.”
Lio had stayed quite still upon hearing that news, and, after a moment, nodded slowly.
“Good for you, Orson,” he replied gently. “It’s good to know she’s opening up to us.”
Orson had nudged him playfully at that.
“Don’t you worry,” he said in a sing-song voice. “I’m sure she’ll give you a name very soon.”
By the end of the week, they had enrolled her in a kindergarten connected to a good school, and Orson had learned, after a particularly disastrous shopping trip, that little Dedra was not one for frills or bright colours, sincerely hated anything too fluffy, and railed against Lio trying to get her hair cut into a similar shaped bob as the one he possesed.
“Lio,” said Krennic through gritted teeth, as Dedra pulled at his hand with all her might. “Getting her hair to look exactly like yours is not going to make you her favourite.”
So on the Monday, Krennic had sat Dedra down at the end of her bed, and did her hair up into two neat little plaits before checking over her uniform. The sets of uniforms and gym clothes had not been cheap, but she looked smart and well put together, and Orson felt a little swell of pride. Yes, they were giving this little kid a much better life and a much better education than she ever would have had in that Kinderblock.
“The class sizes are not too big, and they have high acceptance rates into any academy she might wish to go to,” Lio had said to him, back when they had filed the school registration.
Krennic had checked this with care. For any Imperial position, yes, if she excelled, her new school would be an excellent step up. But he had also checked their acceptance rates for the planet’s fashion and arts colleges as well, just in case.
The first few days seemed to go well. Krennic was pleased - and surprised - that she did her homework diligently, even though it was just colouring and counting, and she learned spellings quickly. At first, Lio had said he would be the one to pay attention to her school grades, but Krennic couldn’t help himself. He knew, in his gut, that there was something very special about this kid, and every little thing he noticed about her seemed closer and closer to proving him right.
Then Friday happened.
Orson was back in the office, his head pounding over a mountain of paperwork on his desk from the week off, and a meeting in the morning with a disgruntled Tarkin who seemed to use the occassion to whine and whinge even more than he usually did.
He had just finished popping an energy bar for lunch when he saw the message from Lio on his data pad.
Called in by school, it read. I am on my way. No need to disturb your day.
But it had disturbed his day, in the end. In the quiet of his office and between files Krennic’s mind ran. Was she hurt? Had a child been aggressive with her? Some of those upper-class children could be terrors, even more so if their parents were a pain too. What had they done to her?
He left work hurriedly and on time.
When he strode into their apartment, he could hear Lio already talking from their living room.
“… and that kind of control is important to learn, Dedra,” said Lio. “That is vital. The calibration of one’s thoughts and emotions to the appropriate level at all times allows us to control situations so that they do not control us. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Dad,” Krennic heard her say.
Orson cleared his throat, and both Lio and Dedra turned towards him.
“What’s happened here?” he asked.
Dedra turned to Lio, who had begun to open his mouth, but changed his mind upon seeing her gaze.
“Go on,” he said to her encouragingly. “Tell him.”
She turned back to look at Orson, her eyes wide and defiant.
“There’s a girl at my school with curly hair, and a boy called her a sheep and made her cry, and I told him to apologise but he wouldn’t, and so I slapped him.”
Krennic began to chuckle. Lio shot him a glare and he quickly reverted to an awkward cough.
“Oh no,” he said, his heart not in the words at all. “Well, that is terrible.”
“Yes,” interjected Lio firmly. “It is, isn’t it? We do not simply slap people.”
“No…” said Krennic, his eyes on his partner, trying to figure out what he should say versus what he wanted to say. “No… perhaps there are times… oh, no. There are no times… definitely not. Slapping. Very bad. Only occasionally app -”
Lio coughed.
“I mean to say,” attempted Krennic, still fighting down a smile. “That is never appropriate.”
“Good Lord. Exactly,” said Lio, with a stern look. “Yes Dedra, we do not slap people. I applaud your sense of justice, but remember, calibrate your emotions. Now, I’d best check in on dinner.”
Krennic’s eyes followed Partagaz all the way out of the living room before he quickly went to the little girl’s side, and crouched down near her, a sparkle in his eyes.
“Tell me,” he said eagerly. “Did the boy cry?”
Dedra nodded.
“He tried not to, though, but he failed,” she added. “They were big tears too.”
Krennic allowed himself a smirk, and gave her a little pat on the arm.
“I feel like slapping some of my colleagues sometimes, you know.” he said, the image of Tarkin’s face instantly popping into his mind. “But I can’t just slap them willy-nilly. I have to pick my moment, you know?”
“Pick my moment?”
“Yes,” he affirmed, keenly aware that the toddler was hanging onto his every word. “Timing is everything, do you understand?”
Dedra paused, allowing his words to turn over in her mind. Then she nodded seriously.
“Okay, Papa.”
He patted her gently on the head.
“That’s my girl,” said Krennic fondly. “Papa’s very, very proud of you, the boy deserved it. Don’t tell Dad, but we’ll get ice cream after school tomorrow.”
Almost one hundred and levels lower, in a far less prestigious area of Coruscant, Eedy Karn watched in vague despair as she watched her son meticulously tailor the uniforms of the action figures his Uncle Harlo had bought him.