Work Text:
Shmi comes to the Temple earlier than her cousins. Not because she shows signs of aptitude any younger, but because it’s practical. Mara and Luke are there; their daughter must come with them.
The less battle-inclined padawans (hell, even the masters) delight in another infant to teach the fundamentals.
Mara’s possessive though. Leia had three children to herself; Mara already shares one with Luke.
She snaps at Kennan and only feels a little badly about it after.
Mara takes Shmi to one of smaller retaining rooms to learn. Shmi can’t levitate the ball; it might have something to do with Mara’s own lack of concentration on her daughter.
“Mommy, why were you mad at him? He just wanted to teach me something.”
“I know, but sometimes mommy can be selfish and wants to keep you to herself. Or daddy.” She sighs. “You shouldn’t be like this, understand?”
Shmi does and stands, throwing her short arms around Mara’s neck. It is a gesture Mara never would have attempted with Syrule or Antar. (It’s cruel how she looks Jade; save Luke’s eyes and inexplicable ringlets.)
Mara runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair, counting the shared breaths, knowing they both feel the nonstop pulse of the Force, until Mara feels it’s safe to let go.
Shmi lets go as well.
Impulsively, Mara leans forward to kiss the tip of Shmi’s nose. In turn, Shmi grabs Mara’s face and holds her there and the pair dissolve into giggles.
“Come on, we have to get back to practicing. If you get through this fast enough, Master Kennan might still be around.”
Even with their redoubled efforts, it takes Shmi a little longer than Mara expects to finally levitate the ball, but Shmi still expresses all her excitement in hugs and squeals.
They search the corridors for Kennan, with no luck. They do find Set though (confirmation all three will be home tonight), who tells them Kennan’s left for a mission.
So much for Shmi having two new abilities to show Luke. Mara’s proud anyway – their baby can harness the Force at an age when neither of them dreamed of it.
Luke’s already there when they arrive home, and he and Shmi meet halfway for him to swing her up in the air. Mara leans on the wall.
It’s not hard for anyone to see where Shmi gets her open affection from, but Mara defies anyone who dares say she doesn’t love their daughter as fiercely. Of her old associates, Karrde had the least surprise in his eyes when he found out she was pregnant.
(He shrugged. “You’re a woman of deep loyalties.” It isn’t loyalty though.)
Shmi happily recounts the thrill lifting the ball with the Force to Luke, asking for Mara’s confirmation at her great feat.
“It’s true,” Mara nods, smiling.
“Well, it’s all a lot better than when I was still learning to levitate,” says Luke, just inviting trouble.
“What did you do?” Shmi asks, eyes big.
“I didn’t listen to Master Yoda at all – I thought I could get my old X-wing out of a swamp all by myself and I failed completely. The problem was I didn’t believe in the Force.”
“That’s silly, daddy.”
Hard to think of Luke, so earnest in his devotion to the Jedi and the Force, training to be a Jedi with no faith in it.
“Yes, very silly,” he replies, raising an eyebrow at Mara, annoyingly knowing just what she’s thinking.
“Master Yoda didn’t tell me that.”
It takes them both a moment for Shmi’s words to sink in. The old master must finally be coming back for his young charges.
A shudder runs down Mara’s spine then it goes rigid, but not for the reappearance of Master Yoda.
Before Shmi was born, she made Luke promise he would not come near her. In her heart, Mara knows if Shmi wants to speak to him when she’s older, she, Mara, can do nothing to prevent it, but she can protect her now.
(As it turned out, Leia already made a similar deal with him regarding her own children. Mara let out a shaky breath, but Luke was still troubled.)
But now, ghosts coming to the children – Mara is justifiably anxious.
“Master Yoda’s harmless enough,” says Luke.
Shmi’s brow furrows in confusion.
Shmi long since put to bed and Luke close to sleep himself, Mara keeps awake.
“He’s kept his end of the deal, right?”
“Hmm,” Luke’s voice muffled in her shoulder.
Truthfully, Mara isn’t so afraid of Anakin Skywalker’s ghost coming to Shmi anymore. (He’d tell her of grandmother and great-grandmother, far better people than him.)
No, it’s her own past which seems long overdue for a reappearance. She’s never bothered to look up where in the galaxy Antar and Syrule Jade have gotten themselves – dead, maybe – but her notoriety’s only grown since she left the Emperor’s service.
The Emperor’s Hand didn’t have a name, but Jedi Knight Mara Jade does. The poor excuses of her own parents could be waiting for the opportune moment to show up in her life, to destroy everything and everyone she’s worked for and loved.
Vader couldn’t, the Emperor couldn’t; like hell Antar and Syrule could.
“Never mind.”
Mara drifts off easily.
Shmi crawls in between them in the morning. It’s an excuse for Luke to stay in bed longer, for Mara to wake up earlier.
----------
When the news reaches Coruscant that Naboo is finally memorializing the contributions of its long-gone queen to the rebellion against the Empire, it’s Ahsoka who takes it the hardest. Luke supposes she never got over leaving Padmé behind when the Republic fell.
The image of his mother in his mind is still only the holo Leia keeps with her, though the word conjures a mixed image of the woman in the holo, Aunt Beru, and more clearly, Leia and Mara.
They’ll all go to Naboo for the ceremony. Leia and Han went recently with their brood, but Luke hasn’t returned since before Shmi. Mara’s never been at all.
When the current queen thanks Leia for her work in piecing together their mother’s contribution to the Rebel Alliance; Luke hangs back.
Even Leia is at odds with Naboo’s intense court etiquette. It is difficult to reconcile the woman in the holo with the court dress of the queen before them, but when presented with Padmé Amidala’s official portrait, there is no avoiding it.
Luke prefers the woman in the holo: happy, in love, if a little tired around the eyes.
After a meeting with the queen and her council, discussing the appropriateness of the memorial, a tour of the palace, a large multi-course meal, and the prospect of having to go through Theed formally tomorrow, Luke’s ready to escape to the house by the lake. They all are.
No wonder their mother felt the same.
The sun hasn’t completely set, so Luke takes Shmi out to the elevated gardens. There are few opportunities on Coruscant for her to see sights like this.
“I bet it looks even more beautiful at your grandmother’s this time of year, what do you think?”
Shmi nods, continuing to stare at the sun dipping below the mountains.
The approaching footsteps are not anyone’s Luke recognizes; he draws his attention to the new arrival. An older woman, one of the members of the queen’s council. Damn, he wishes Leia was there, she’d know who this was.
She extends a hand; Luke frees one from holding Shmi and shakes the stranger’s.
“Saché Lago, Master Skywalker, we haven’t been formally introduced, but your reputation precedes you.”
Luke’s glad for the red and pink reflection of sky.
“And this is your daughter, I take it.”
Shmi turns around long enough to look shyly at the woman, then buries her face in his shoulder.
“Do you want to speak to Senator Organa, I’m sure –”
Saché Lago waves a hand, “Either of you will do, there’s just never a chance during these state visits for one-on-one talks.”
People are usually delicate and even-handed when it comes to discussing Padmé with him (what else could she have come for?); her brusqueness takes him by surprise.
They sit on a bench. Luke lets Shmi go; she runs off look at the colorful trees.
“I worked with your mother years ago. Worked is a loose term. We ran against each other for the queenship – she won.” She looks out to the mountains, “How different it would have been if I had won.” Then, to him, “She was never shy about her dissent with Palpatine.”
Luke’s chest puffs up in pride slightly; Saché seems to be watching for it.
“Oh, I never cared for him either; I just wasn’t going to risk my system on an unpopular opinion.”
Luke tears his eyes away from Shmi, “What do you want from me?”
Saché extends a hand; a holo in her palm.
“We weren’t friends, but I did know her at it a time in her life when few did. If you or Senator Organa would like to speak to someone, I will do what I can.”
Saché stands and leave, but with one last look over her shoulder. Shmi returns to Luke, elbows propped on his knees.
Luke looks to her and then to the holo, still not on.
“Would you like to see you grandmother?”
Shmi nods vigorously, smiling. Her enthusiasm bolsters his own.
Luke pushes the button.
It’s a small group of girls. It almost hurts to realize how young they all are.
His mother is in the center; her curls, the same ones he or Mara has to work through each morning.
Shmi’s.
Heart and throat too full with emotion, Shmi acts first, “Is that grandmother?”
Luke can only nod.
Shmi’s arms wrap tightly around his knees in a tight hug. Luke bends over and kisses her on the top of her head.
Finally reigning control of his emotions, “You ready to go to the house tomorrow with your cousins?”
“And you and mommy.”
Luke lifts Shmi up, “Let’s go find her. Make sure she’s excited as we are.”
Daylight’s last hues glint in Shmi’s red hair.