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The stars danced merrily across the vast expanse of space, whirling on in an endless dance that would continue until it eventually consumed them. At a certain point in space, near a certain star, a green-blue sphere spun on its axis, three moons forming a tripartite dance of their own around it. Bright clouds swirled across the surface, moving so slowly to the observing eye as to be almost motionless.
The planet was Naboo. Its moons had names, but he didn’t remember enough of his galactic geography lessons to pull them from memory to mouth. He recalled something about mining and gas and Gungans, but there were so many more planets in the galaxy more important in the grand scheme of things than Naboo.
His own connection to the place, he hadn’t learned until much later.
Ben Solo sat in one of the Ghost’s passenger seats and stared out at Naboo. His grandmother had been born there. According to most reports, she’d died there too, but his own experiences had left him with a rather different impression.
If he thought about it, he might be able to dredge up memories of some visit or another, likely spearheaded by his mother in one of her endless political dances. But thoughts of his mother brought up thoughts of his father, and he wasn’t quite ready yet to be that introspective around others.
“My goodness, this place seems like it hasn’t changed in sixty years!” said Ahsoka Tano, from the other passenger seat. She raised a wrinkly orange hand and pointed towards Naboo. “You see that lake? I saved that entire ecosystem from being poisoned, you know.”
“You’re pointing at the entire planet,” Hera Syndulla replied from the pilot’s seat, her green hands loose but confident on the controls. “If you wait another minute, maybe we can actually see the lake you’re talking about.”
“That one,” Ahsoka repeated, shifting her hand a micrometre and pointing at no lake Ben could see. “A few hours outside Theed.”
“Tano, you can’t see Theed from up here.”
“Of course I can. It’s right there.”
It didn’t seem like she’d moved at all, so Ben leaned a little towards her and looked at where he thought she was pointing. She caught him doing it and gave him a stern, imploring look.
“Tell Syndulla I’m right,” she demanded. “Theed. Right there. You can see it.”
Still unused to Ahsoka Tano speaking to him with anything less than full poison in her voice, Ben blinked in an attempt to buy himself time to respond. From the copilot’s seat, another, softer voice answered instead.
“The planet is in aphelion, Master. Theed is currently on the other side.”
Ahsoka, who had not done much moving beyond lifting her arm, still somehow managed to lean further back in her chair and grumble. “Younglings telling me I don’t know Theed. I know Theed. It’s right there. Theed. Next to the lake.”
“I believe Naboo is currently approximately sixty-eight percent lake, Master.”
Ahsoka shot Ben a look, folded her arms, and leaned forward to address the speaker. Her long blue and white lekku fell out of her lap and brushed the floor as she stuck her head between the two forward seats. “I wasn’t aware that backtalk or the incessant need to be right came from the Jarrus side of the family. I don’t recall your father being like this.”
“You haven’t met my father,” Hera quipped.
“I have met Cham Syndulla at least three times.”
“And how eager are you for round four?”
“Ask me later.”
“I believe,” said the man in the seat in front of her, more hesitant than either of the women, “that I learned to backtalk from you, Master.” When he finished speaking, there was a silence like everyone was trying to figure out how to properly react.
Ben would say nothing. If there was someone on the Ghost with the most reason to actively despise him, it was the slim man sitting in the copilot’s seat: Jacen Syndulla.
Ahsoka’s mouth pursed, but Ben already knew, after just a few months of traveling with them, that she’d never be crueler to Jacen than telling him his bantha steak was a little bland. She turned her head to Hera, lekku sliding across the cloak on her back, and let out a theatrical sigh.
“Unbelievable. You hear him? I know you raised him better than that, General.”
Hera, whose own green lekku were hanging down behind her headrest and in front of Ben’s face, turned to give Ahsoka’s look right back to her. “If my kid couldn’t backtalk with the best of them, I’d consider myself a failure, Commander .”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Ahsoka threw up her hands and sat back. “I know when I’m beaten.” She unbuckled her crash webbing and stood up. “Solo, you handle the Syndullas. I’m going to see what Chewbacca and that droid are getting up to. I do not trust them together.”
“Chop’s alright,” said Hera.
“That is a blatant lie, Hera Syndulla, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
Ahsoka left with a few more snipes at Hera, who fired good-naturedly back. Unsure where he should put his eyes, Ben inadvertently found himself sharing a rueful smile with Jacen.
Though he was a solid five years older, Jacen Syndulla had always been slimmer and shorter than Ben, all the way back to their shared days at the Jedi Academy. He had short brown hair that curled around his peaked ears, highlighting more than hiding the green tinge to his skin that was most visible there. His eyes were very blue, his mouth small and smiling, and Ben was suddenly transported back almost a decade to the first time they’d met at the Academy.
(The same Jedi Academy, Ben’s darkest thoughts reminded him, that you blew up).
Though Ben had chosen to be severed from the Force, Jacen had not, and it was obvious the second he picked up on Ben’s sudden terror, since the little smile slipped from his face and he looked away.
“Sorry,” Ben muttered, which was about as much as he could ever seem to manage. “Can’t… really control it, anymore.”
“No, it’s—it’s okay.” Jacen looked back up at him, but only held eye contact for a moment. “I don’t like to remember either, but it’s… it’s important, right? It’s important we talk about it?”
Ben nodded, his tongue thick in his mouth.
Jacen laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, I sound like Ahsoka, don’t I? Sometimes it seems like she thinks she can save anybody if she just talks at them long enough.”
Despite himself, Ben felt a laugh bark its way out of his throat. For a second, Jacen looked just as surprised, but then a big smile cracked across his face and they were teenagers again, sharing a laugh over some dumb joke at Luke’s expense.
“If we’re all done regretting taking the old lady on board,” Hera interrupted, glancing over her shoulder at them, “maybe one of you could go tell her to strap in? We’re starting our approach.”
“I’ll do it,” Jacen said, unbuckling himself and standing up. “Chopper listens to me best.”
“The hell he does,” Hera said, grinning at her son. When he returned it, Ben noticed just how much he looked like her when he smiled.
Hera chuckled, firming up her grip on the yoke. “Maybe we can teach her where Theed actually is, too.”
Surprisingly, Ben found himself smiling too. “Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”
“They sure have, kid. They sure have.”
***
Once they had landed in Theed, Ahsoka got a bug in her montral about taking Ben and Chewbacca somewhere she wouldn’t specify.
“We’ll just be a few hours. Maybe a day or two, depending.”
“Depending on what, exactly?” asked Hera.
Ahsoka shrugged, which seemed to be her favourite move when she felt like being obstinate. “Depending. Can you handle the boys while I’m gone?”
One of Hera’s brows rose. “You mean my son, that I’ve known his entire life? Or my droid, who’s been in my crew since I was twelve years old?”
“I don’t trust the droid, but that’s between him and me.” At Hera’s feet, Chopper the astromech droid whistled nastily and pointed the fuel line he was working on threateningly at Ahsoka. Ignoring him, she stepped around the ramp to pat Jacen kindly on the cheek. “And I suppose it’s just an old woman’s nature to make sure her student is safe. You will stay safe, right?”
Jacen nodded dutifully. “We’re just going to Ohma-D’un for a cargo run, Master.”
“Oh, anything could go wrong.” She stepped back to Ben’s side, glancing over her shoulder at Chewbacca, who was negotiating poorly with a speeder rental. “Gungans know how to party.” She sighed and threw a hand over her eyes. “Why did I send the Wookiee to get the speeder? Why didn’t any of you stop me?”
“This is a lot funnier,” Hera replied.
“I hope the Gungans lick your entire face,” Ahsoka grumbled. She waved them off distractedly, squaring her shoulders and walking over to help Chewbacca with his quickly escalating negotiations.
Ben had a sudden flash of memory. “Oh, Ohma-D’un is the moon,” he murmured. The Syndullas stared at him (and Chopper, which was worse). He felt himself going red. “I couldn’t… remember the name. Of the moons. When we were approaching. So when you said—uh. Yes. Thank you.”
They stared at him some more, and then Jacen let out a bright peal of laughter. It made Ben feel even more embarrassed, but the idea of making Jacen (or anyone) happy instead of upset was… not a bad feeling. And when Jacen stopped, putting a hand over his mouth and going as red as Ben felt, it seemed like altogether a pretty good feeling.
“Well, with that,” Hera said, rolling her eyes, “I think we can get this show on the road.” She nudged Chopper with her foot and pushed Jacen gently towards the ramp with her elbow. “Let me know whenever the old lady tells you where you’re going.”
“I heard that!” Ahsoka hollered over.
Hera put her hands on her hip and hollered back. “I hope so!” Ahsoka gave her a very un-Jedi-like gesture, making Hera laugh. “Okay, alright, let’s get moving.” She shunted Jacen up the ramp with her hip, but he paused halfway up and called down to Ben.
“Comm us if you need anything!” He waved, then seemed to realize what he was doing and glued his hand to his side.
“We will be gone for four hours,” his mother grumbled. “You two can talk when we get back.”
“I—yes, I—” Jacen stammered, going redder than before, “I knew that. I mean, I understand that. I mean—”
“Goodbye, Ben!” Hera stated, giving up on gentle and just straight shoving her son into the ship. As the ramp closed, Ben found himself returning Jacen’s stupid little wave, not entirely sure why.
“Well!” Ahsoka announced, striding up with a grouchy Chewbacca at her heels. “It only took what little remaining dignity I have, but I have secured us an open-air speeder that we can take to Varykino.”
“Why are we going to Varykino?” Ben asked.
Ahsoka smiled the kind of smile that revealed no helpful information but a lot about how smug she was feeling. “I suppose you’ll just have to find out.”
Chewbacca grumbled something that made Ben happy that few people spoke Shyriiwook. Ahsoka held a hand up in front of his chest, making him stop short and growl down at her.
“Don’t you start with me, Chewbacca,” she said, not turning around or looking up. “You promised me you’d have the speeder booked before we arrived, so I am well within my rights to make you flail a little bit.”
Chewbacca grumbled another something sarcastic, but Ben had caught on something else Ahsoka had said.
“You pre-planned this,” he realized. “Is this—is whatever you’re planning—why we’re here?”
“It can be two things,” Ahsoka said without inflection. “Now, the speeder is just over there, and I don’t suggest sitting behind me while we fly. These lekku are long and they will hit you in the face.” She gestured from her eyeline to her knee, encompassing the entire length of her head-tails.
Chewbacca muttered something about how she didn’t need to drive.
“Let an old woman live a little,” she snarked right back. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll both think I drive like the old lady you all keep reminding me I am.”
***
Ahsoka did not drive like any old woman Ben had ever ridden with, unless all the old women he’d ever known secretly moonlighted as podracers. He’d been trained as a fighter pilot, lived through countless battles, and he recognized the same madcap piloting style he’d seen in various hotshots throughout his life. He’d even been one, once.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
When Ahsoka slowed them to a stop what felt like six incredibly windy seconds later, Ben didn’t even look around before he hopped out of the speeder to the ground. Dangerous piloting was fine, sure, but only when he was doing it.
He paused. Could he even do it, anymore?
He came back to the sounds of Ahsoka and Chewbacca bickering. While the Wookiee was clearly some kind of actually grouchy, Ahsoka seemed to delight in the nattering back-and-forth she often imposed on him. “—I know exactly where we are, Chewbacca, and this is the right place.” Chewbacca yowled. “It is . Do you not realize I was making a joke before? I’m an old lady, I make jokes. I know where we are.”
“You have no idea where we are,” Ben sighed.
Ahsoka’s lips pursed, but she didn’t snap at him. “The registry says they live here. They previously lived here. It follows that they still, barring any unforeseen nonsense, still live here.”
“‘They’?”
Ahsoka didn’t answer, rolling her shoulders and walking off across the smooth cobblestones that formed the front garden of the estate she’d taken them to.
And it was most certainly an estate. Looking across the sweeping architecture, the high, domed roofs, the wide doorways open to the air, Ben thought about how he’d probably be a lot more impressed had he not grown up surrounded by the opulence of the Galactic Senate. Still, the breeze blowing in across the lake was warm and soft, and the only noises to be heard were the quiet call of waterfowl and Ahsoka’s sharp rap on the door.
“Why aren’t you pressing the buzzer?” Ben asked, coming up to stand a little behind her. “Didn’t you say they were expecting you?”
Ahsoka looked back at him over her shoulder, grinning wide to show her sharp predator’s teeth. “Now, when would I have ever said that?”
Before Ben could respond, the huge wooden door in front of him started to slide open. Once it had opened enough to admit maybe a particularly limber Ewok, a woman’s face appeared in the gap.
“I don’t believe we’re expecting anyone,” the woman said, her brown eyes peering out at the three of them. She appeared to be around his mother’s age, maybe a bit older, with only the last little bits of brown still visible in her straight gray hair.
She spent the longest time looking at Ben, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. The fewer people who could place him, the better. His hair was short and he was wearing colours again, but he had probably the most notorious face in the galaxy.
Ahsoka saved him (which was only fair, seeing as it was entirely her fault). She smiled big and bright and held out her arms. “Hello, Ryoo.”
The woman’s eyes shot back to Ahsoka, going wide, before the door swung open and she ran out to give her a hug. “By Kylantha’s Whim,” she gasped, “Ahsoka Tano?! Here? I didn’t think we’d ever see you again!”
“I’ve been busy,” Ahsoka said. “Vacations don’t come often for those like me.”
“Well,” the woman called Ryoo said, holding Ahsoka at arm’s length and looking her up and down, “I can’t argue with that. But I’d have at least appreciated you letting me know you were alive.”
“You’ll have to forgive an old woman, Ryoo. My memory, you know—”
Ryoo snorted, an action which seemed to make her look years younger. “You’re not that much older than me, you know. I’d like to pretend I’m still young, so if you could keep pretending too, I’d appreciate it.”
Ahsoka nodded solemnly, but it was ruined by her genuine smile.
“Now,” Ryoo went on, pushing the door open wider and gesturing them in, “you are in luck today. Pooja and her entire crew are here as well. I know she’ll be pleased to see you. But you must introduce me to your friends.”
Ahsoka waved up at Chewbacca, who growled a polite hello. “I assume you recognize Chewbacca.”
It was quite the long look up at Chewbacca for Ryoo, who wasn’t even Ahsoka’s height. “I can’t say as I’ve had the pleasure of enough Wookiee company to be able to recognize their greatest hero at first glance.” Chewbacca, easily flattered, yowled happily and knelt down to give her a hug. “Oh! This is nice!” She struggled a bit to see around Chewbacca’s unruly fur, but she eventually found Ben again. “And you must be…?”
Ahsoka was watching him carefully, which should have been his warning. “This is Ben. Han and Leia’s son.”
Ryoo’s eyebrows shot all the way up to her hairline. Even after Chewbacca released her, she didn’t move to welcome Ben for a solid three seconds. Eventually, she regained her composure and, stitching a smile onto her face, walked over and pulled Ben into a hug. It was not long, but it was not perfunctory, so Ben stared at Ahsoka in a silent plea for help.
She was not forthcoming, but Ryoo helpfully filled in the gaps. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, stepping back and smiling politely at him. “I’m Ryoo Naberrie, your mother’s cousin. This is the Naberrie family home.”
Ben stared at Ahsoka once more, feeling the world fall away beneath him. She hadn’t just taken him to visit an old friend: she’d brought him to the very place his grandmother had grown up.
***
“Now,” Ryoo said, leading them down an elegantly decorated hallway, “you’ve just missed lunch, but everyone is sitting in the salon at the moment listening to Hira play.”
“Is that your youngest?” Ahsoka asked.
“Oh no. Inyo is almost eighteen now. Hira is—you remember Miloe, my oldest? Hira is her daughter. She’s only five years old, but already we can tell she’s going to be a beautiful viol player.”
“Did she finally settle on a career?”
Ryoo laughed pleasantly. “Oh, eventually. Naboo is a haven for artists and politicians, you know, and Miloe was never particularly fond of either of those. She actually—you’ll never believe this, Ahsoka—but she’s currently second lieutenant of the Queen’s Guard.”
“I seem to recall a little girl who couldn’t keep herself out of trouble,” Ahsoka mused.
“Must be her father’s influence,” Ryoo said. “Or her aunt’s. I was a perfect child.”
Ahsoka flashed her a doubting smile. “Were you?”
“Compared to Pooja? Or you?” Ryoo placed her hand on her chest. “Or, goodness knows, Padmé ? It’s a wonder my mother ever let us have any children at all.”
“I think she probably likes having a big family.”
“You have no idea. She’d kind of hoped my aunt would—”
Ben followed dumbly behind the two women, the sound of his grandmother’s name blocking out any and all noise around him. He flashed back, vividly, to the only time he’d ever interacted with his grandmother. Or… with her spectre? Or had it been a dream? The point was, it had been vicious and furious and all he could remember was the feeling of her fists carving their way through his chest as she screamed at him for being an soulless monster.
The woman Ryoo was remembering with Ahsoka did not sound much like that at all.
“And this is the salon!” Ryoo announced, stopping in front of an ornately carved door that, like all the doors Ben had seen so far, was very large and very ostentatious. From behind it, he could hear the sounds of strings being plucked and a light little melody. “Now, we weren’t expecting anyone, so if you’ll give me a second to prepare the crowd for you…” She held up a finger, pushed open the door, and slid in through the crack.
Ben wheeled on Ahsoka instantly.
“What are we doing here?!”
She had not been the least bit afraid of him as Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, so she wasn’t going to blink at yelling from Ben Solo, just some guy. Her expression did not change in the slightest. “We are visiting family.”
“Yes, my family, which you didn’t—”
The door creaked open, and Ryoo’s head popped back into the hall. “Okay!” she announced, “come and meet everybody!”
Still furious at Ahsoka, Ben was completely helpless as she wrapped her hand around the door and pulled it all the way open, walking into the salon without a care in the world.
“Ahsoka?!” someone exclaimed, rushing Ahsoka and pulling her into a huge hug. “You could have told us, Ryoo.” She glared at Ryoo over Ahsoka’s shoulder, letting Ben see that she looked very much like Ryoo indeed. A little younger, a little taller, a little rounder, but very very clearly her sister. His other cousin.
“Pooja, I clearly wanted it to be a surprise,” Ryoo said. While Pooja leaned back in to hug Ahsoka once more, Ryoo raised her voice to address the room. “Alright everyone, say hello to our guests!”
A chorus of “hello”s from a room full of pale, brown-haired people rose up and almost overwhelmed Ben’s senses. There appeared to be anywhere from fifteen to twenty different people, a whole range of ages, but who all shared one or two particular traits that linked them as family. The same shape of eyes, or the same pointed nose, they were all very clearly family.
His family.
Ryoo, beside him, was making a valiant effort to do introductions over the chorus of curious voices rising from her assorted horde. “—you remember my husband, Ian. And there’s Miloe and Hira, and her father, Uli. And then Pooja’s eldest, Kisnei—yes, that’s them sitting next to Pooja’s wife, Junita. Kisnei? Kisnei, can you hold up—thank you, dear! That’s Oren, Vexel’s son. You remember Vexel? Vexel, dear, can you wave to—thank you, love. Lenora, the pretty woman sitting next to him, that’s his wife, isn’t she beautiful? And there’s—Inyo, Inyo put that away, we’re doing introductions— thank you, Harnot. Harnot is Inyo’s boyfriend, and we like him very much here, don’t we, Ian? I said, don’t we, Ia—Inyo don’t you make gestures like that to Ahsoka, you were raised better—”
Ben let the noise crash back over him. It was easier than trying to pay attention. It was also easier than trying to parse out why Ahsoka had dragged him there.
“Now, I don’t know whether you all remember my stories about my friend Ahsoka,” Ryoo said, having clearly finished her decade’s worth of introductions, “but this is her. Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Master, Commander of the Republic Army, and a very good friend to me and Pooja growing up.”
Ben knew that at least one, if not both, of those titles was something Ahsoka did not look too fondly on, but the old schemer held her tongue. After the chorus of welcomes died down, Ryoo moved on to Chewbacca, who the younger kids had been staring up at with wonder from the second he’d walked in.
“This is the great hero Chewbacca: warrior, Rebel, and one of the Heroes of Yavin.”
Several of the Naberries clapped at that. More recent than the Clone Wars, Ben supposed.
When it came to introduce him, Ryoo hesitated. It only made sense. But she soldiered on with only that brief moment of uncertainty. “And this young man is Ben Solo. Your cousin.”
Half the Naberrie clan was off their feet in a second, rushing over to him and peppering him with non-stop questions. Sure, heroes and commanders were cool, but apparently a new cousin with a golden arm and a look of terror was ten times as interesting.
Looking around for help, Ben noticed Ryoo smiling as the children crowded around him. Ahsoka and Chewbacca were both watching with expressions a little harder to parse. And next to Ahsoka, Pooja had a look on her face that told him she knew exactly who he was and what he’d done, and she’d just as soon see him gone as ask him to sit down.
Whatever she was going to say was quickly forgotten, though, as there came the sound of a door and tinkling bells as a soft voice called out from somewhere nearby.
“Oh, Hira, why did you stop playing? I was singing along while I pulled the weeds.”
The voice was soft, but it cast a spell on the Naberries, who stopped talking instantly as a woman with long white hair stepped into the salon. She had gardening gloves on, a straight back, and a face lined with the wrinkles of someone who’d spent their life in the sun. She hooked a trowel into her belt and wiped a few specks of dirt off her rolled-up sleeves. “Hira?” she repeated.
“Sorry, Grangran,” little Hira said, walking up to the old woman and laying a hand on her leg. The old woman removed her gloves and placed a bony hand on top of Hira’s brown curls. Hira smiled and pointed to Ben. “We have guests.”
The old woman looked up at where she was pointing, squinting to get a better look across the room. She gasped suddenly, loud as a blaster firing in the quiet room, and her gloves fell out of her hand.
“It can’t be,” she said, raising a hand to her heart and taking a step forward. “You…” She walked closer, something akin to wonder on her face and blue eyes quickly starting to shine with tears. She stepped up to Ben and, despite him having never seen the woman before in his life, she lifted her trembling hands and pressed them gently to his face.
Even though the tears were falling freely down her face, the old woman was beaming. She was shaking her head in disbelief and actually started to laugh.
“You look just like her,” she said, smiling as bright as the sun. “You look just like Padmé.”
“What?” Ben whispered.
“Ben Solo,” Ahsoka said, taking over introductions for the old lady, who was clearly too moved to do them herself, “may I introduce you to Sola Naberrie, your great-aunt.”
***
His aunt Sola (his aunt Sola, his grandmother’s sister Sola) did not leave his side for the rest of their visit. She manouevred him to one of her many couches and sat down with him, wrapping one of his hands in both of hers. What was odd was how she didn’t pepper him with questions. The others did (except Pooja, who watched him with her mother with an unmasked glare), but Sola simply sat with him and smiled, occasionally asking him if he’d heard of a particular double viol player or what he liked to eat for dinner.
Ryoo had enough talk in her to fill a room, Ben quickly learned, but so did most of the Naberries. They were almost frighteningly polite, but Inyo got to a point where he was tired of it and threw something at his sister’s head, which got the rest of them to drop the formalities and talk like normal people. After all, they were all family.
They were all family.
Ben did not, could not, participate in the conversation. If he’d tried to talk about his own family, he’d be forced to reckon with what he’d done to rip it apart. In fact, that may have been Ahsoka’s plan. The old, meddling Togruta sat next to Ryoo’s husband and was chatting away with him like they’d been apart only weeks instead of years. Chewbacca, who was better with children then he’d ever let on, was being used as an impromptu jungle gym.
“Oh dear,” said Sola, breaking him out of his fugue, “it’s getting a little loud in here. Do you mind accompanying me out to the garden? I find myself seeking that solace more and more as I age.”
“Oh, I—um, of course.” He stood up, Leia Organa-branded training spurring him into offering his aunt his hand without even thinking about why he was doing it. A few months ago, he’d have fought the instinct on principle, but he was so lost these days that it came back like it had never left.
“Thank you, dear,” Sola said, using him as a ballast as she stood and intertwined their arms. “Now, the garden is just back this way. If you would?”
She was an old lady, and she was slow, but her back was straight and she walked without hesitating, and it struck Ben how odd it was to be around an old woman who was just, you know, a normal old woman. His mother was General Organa, and Ahsoka was the most learned Force adept alive, but Sola, as far as he could tell, was just a nice old lady.
“Do you do much gardening, dear?” she asked as they rounded the corner. The garden, like everything else at the Naberrie estate, was huge, pretty and immaculate. Ben only recognized about a quarter of the flowers and vines that had been carefully curated in the raised square plots that spread throughout the garden. “It wasn’t my first choice of hobby, but I just find that seeing the flowers grow through the year makes me feel… content. Do you see what I mean?”
“They are very pretty flowers,” Ben said politely, because he didn’t have anything else to say. He reached out and gently dragged his artificial fingers across the petals of a particular golden bloom. The colours were almost identical.
“Oh, you have a good eye,” Sola said, coming up beside him. “The Chandrilan Goldeneyes only just started flowering this month. I like to have them here, by the balcony, because they look simply amazing when the wind blows through at sunset.”
Ben wasn’t really listening, the flower’s name having stirred another memory. “Chandrila,” he breathed, remembering high spires and fancy gatherings and stark, stark white.
“Oh, that’s right! You were born on Chandrila, yes? I suppose that’s how you knew the Goldeneyes. You have the Naberrie eye for beauty, I can tell.”
Her words, though kind, had just further pushed him into the memory spiral. He’d spent the first few years of his life on Chandrila, and returned to it quite frequently, but that entire part of his past was wrapped up in all the hurt and pain he’d gone through and imposed on others. He didn’t deserve to be standing there, petting a pretty flower and being told he knew what made things beautiful. Nothing could ever be beautiful, not with him around.
He withdrew his hand and let it fall to his side. “You are being… very kind to me.”
“Of course,” Sola said, so confident she didn’t even look up to say it. “You’re family.”
“I don’t… know you.”
Sola hummed. “Well, you did only just arrive. Give it time.” She sat down at the plot of Goldeneyes and began picking things out of the dirt. “Could you grab the shears there, next to you?” she asked. “Goldeneyes have a tendency to grow as many blooms as can fit on the stem if left unattended, which just means none of them have the chance to really blossom.”
“I—okay.” He leaned over to the other plot and picked up the shears, holding them out to his aunt. Instead of taking them, she pointed out a few errant blooms on the Goldeneyes and looked pointedly at the shears, going back to picking the stones and branches out of the mulch. Left with nothing else to do, Ben reached down and began pruning, following Sola’s directions to remove all the extraneous flowers from the stems.
Eventually, he no longer needed her to point out which ones needed trimming, and started doing so on his own. When they’d finished the plot of Goldeneyes, she had them move over to a box of vivid blue tubers (Iridonian Flask Flowers, apparently) and start replacing the soil. Once that was done, they changed the water for the Gungan Water Lilies, and then reinforced the stems of the Corellian Ivories with little poles.
They barely spoke as they worked, but the more gardening Ben did, the less and less his brain spun itself in circles worrying about what he was doing and what Sola was thinking and how he was all going to inevitably mess it up. It was just him, his aunt, and the flowers, with the warm breeze coming off the lake every so often.
“Oh dear,” Sola said after a long while, “I’ll be back in a minute. I need to freshen up.” She stood up and removed her gardening gloves, wiping her hands down on the dirty coveralls she was wearing. “Keep at it with the Cathar Biteweed, will you? I’m not so good with the thorns anymore.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She placed her hand to his cheek again and smiled, and it sent a very different feeling down to his heart the second time. She walked off, he knelt back down over the thorny Biteweed and got back to clipping.
Within a few moments, though, he heard the brisk steps of someone coming into the garden. It couldn’t be Sola, who did not walk nearly as fast nor as forcefully. He set down the shears and looked up, which is how he saw Pooja striding determinedly towards him, a dangerous set to her jaw.
It was probably polite to stand up. He did so, trying to wipe his hands off on his pants without looking like he was wiping his hands off on his pants. “Um, hello—”
“I know who you are,” Pooja said, stepping right up into him and jabbing a finger into his face. When she frowned, she did not look much like either her sister or her mother. “I know exactly who you are.”
“I, um…”
“Don’t think for a second that I trust you just because my mother looks at you and sees her sister. I know who you are, Kylo Ren. I know what you’ve done.” She glared up into his face, looking less and less like the assorted Naberries and more and more like his mother had looked at her fiercest of enemies. “If you step even a toe out of line, I will kill you on the spot, do you understand me? I lost my aunt to a man like you, and I will lose no more family to men who think they’re owed grace just because they’re sad . Am I clear?”
All the calm he’d collected gardening with Sola slipped away from him in an instant, coiling down his legs and collecting in a pathetic little puddle at his feet. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
“I don’t want you here,” Pooja continued, “and I don’t want you around my mother. I will give you today based only on the trust I have for Ahsoka, but then you leave . There will be no discussion. Understood?”
He nodded.
Pooja pursed her lips, looking like she still had something to say, but then she just let a little frustrated noise roll in the back of her throat and stormed off.
Once she was out of sight, Ben slid gracelessly to the ground, metal arm clunking noisily against the polished stones. She was right, of course. What was he thinking? He didn’t belong in a nice house with a nice old lady gardening . He was a murderer. He was a villain. He’d specifically signed up to work with Ahsoka and the crew of the Ghost to pay back some small amount of the harm he’d done, but there was no way that was ever going to be enough.
“What is even the point,” he groaned, smacking his head back against the plot. “I’m just wasting everybody’s time. I’m just… it doesn’t matter what I am. I can’t change it. I shouldn’t even try.” He sighed. Why was he even trying?
The sound of footsteps once again brought him back to reality, though it was a third set approaching, neither Sola nor her furious daughter. The steps were accompanied by the swishing of a cloak, letting him know it was Ahsoka well before she saw him sitting sullenly on the ground.
“Oh, we’re having a moment, are we?” she asked.
“Go away.”
“Oh, we are, then,” Ahsoka grumbled, lowering herself to the ground a bit away from him. “Had to be having it on the ground, did we? Couldn’t have had this around a set of nice, comfortable lounge chairs, huh?”
He suddenly wanted her to shut up. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why did you bring me here?” he snapped, turning to glare at her. “Why did you spring this surprise attack on me out of nowhere? Are you still punishing me? I already hate myself, Tano, what more do you want?”
Ahsoka stared at him coolly for a very long while. Eventually, she leaned her head back and looked up at the clear Naboo sky. “Why do you think I brought you here?”
“To remind me of what I’ve lost, because of my own stupid choices.”
She snorted. “It will never cease to bring me great joy to tell you how wrong you are, Ben Solo.”
“Of course it won’t.”
She flashed him an irritated look. “What is here, Ben Solo, that I wanted you to see? What is there to learn from this lesson I have foisted upon you?”
“That you’re an unpleasant old harridan who enjoys tormenting people who won’t fight back— Ow!” He rubbed his upper arm, where a rock had suddenly caromed into it at full speed.
A second rock floated placidly above Ahsoka’s palm. When she was satisfied he wasn’t going to sass her again, she let it tumble to the ground. “Ben Solo,” she said, seeming to be pushing the words out against her will, “you carry a great weight. Most of it deserved. But the greatest weight of them all is what you feel you have done to your family.”
He said nothing. She was right.
“The reason that I brought you here,” Ahsoka went on, still chewing on her words like an overcooked meatloaf, “is to give you something to reduce some of that weight. Look around you. Look at what is here.” She raised her hand and gestured towards the unseen salon, where voices and viol music could still be heard. “You have not ruined your family forever, Ben Solo. You still have family. You still have family here, and family that would be happy to have you.”
He stared at her in confusion. To him, Ahsoka and kind gestures were rarely copacetic. And even then… “I don’t deserve this,” he whispered.
Ahsoka threw up her hands in frustration. “I don’t know if you deserve it, Solo! I’m not going to make that call! But I know that you’ve spent the last three hours out here with the only aunt you’ll ever have gardening up a storm, feeling calmer than you have in months.” She slowly got to her feet, bones creaking as she rose with one last glare for him at having “forced” her to sit with him. “I’m not willing anymore to be the person who decides who ‘deserves’ a moment of happiness here or there. But I saw the chance to bring some joy into the life of a person wholly without it, and it felt like the right thing to do.”
He stared up at her with some indescribable emotion coursing through his veins. “That was… very kind of you,” he whispered.
For the first time, Ahsoka Tano really smiled at him. A golden petal floated in on the breeze and settled on her outstretched hand. “I don’t want to be bitter anymore, Solo.” She turned the translucent petal to and fro in her fingers. “I think we should take what little joy we can where we can find it.” She cast the petal over to him and walked off, still not quite so moved as to not loudly complain about her knees all the while.
He caught the petal with the fingers of his artificial hand, turning it gently about and watching it catch the sun’s rays. It really was something to see. And if he turned it just the right direction, the fading sunlight made it a perfect match for the gold of his arm, allowing him to pretend, even for a moment, that he was part of something beautiful too.
“Ben?” Sola’s voice called. “Are you still there? I can’t see you?”
Shaken for the third time from his thoughts, he leapt to his feet and waved awkwardly at his aunt. “Yes, I’m here! Sorry, I was, uh, taking a break?”
Sola smiled when she saw him, but for the first time, she seemed a little nervous. “Oh, well, good. I was worried you’d wandered off.”
“No, ma’am.”
She came up to the same plot and sat down beside him, patting his arm absently as she reached down and started pulling up some weeds. He could tell, even without the Force, that she had something to say.
Perhaps Pooja had spoken to her. Or maybe she hadn’t. He wouldn’t know until he knew.
“You know,” Sola finally began, turning some soil over in her hands, “I was never a gardener, professionally.”
“You could have been,” he said, because it seemed like the correct thing to say.
Sola laughed quietly. “You’re very kind to say so. But no, I wanted to be an artist, like my mother. And then I wanted to be a politician, like my sister. And then I wanted to be a mother, and I suppose that ate up enough of my time that I stopped wondering.”
He didn’t say anything to that. He wasn’t sure what he should say.
“Now, here on Naboo, we tend to leap into our futures fairly early on. Your grandmother, you know, was elected Queen at thirteen. But the problem with choosing so quickly is you sometimes arrive at the other side, fully burnt out on whatever it was you chose, with so much of your life left ahead of you.” She rustled a few seeds in her palm, then threw them off to the side. “So there’s a fairly well-established tradition of choosing an entirely different path whenever you hit that wall. Sometimes you’re my age, but other times you could be much younger. And we have so many paths to choose from. You could be a politician, or an artist, or a field worker, or… perhaps a gardener?”
He then saw where she’d been headed, and stared at her in confusion. “You can’t think… me ?”
Suddenly both her hands were on his arm, holding it tight and looking up at him imploringly. “I don’t want to force you into anything, Ben. I know you’ve got to go off and have your adventures, just like your grandparents, but… you remind me so much of your grandmother, and I’ve missed her so much since she’s been gone. We used to garden like this, her and I, when we were younger. She loved the Goldeneyes, too.”
He stared down at his aunt, seeing the kindness in her he’d never bothered to look for in his grandmother. But even still. “You… know the things I’ve done,” he found himself saying.
“I know,” she said, letting his arm go, “and it’s not my place to tell you how to feel about any of that. I’m sure no young man wants to stay and help his aunt tend to her flowers, but… It really has been so nice spending today with you, nephew. If you could, maybe, see your way to visiting an old woman every so often and helping her prune the Biteweed thorns, could I ask that much of you?”
She smiled so wide and bright that he found himself on the cusp of smiling too. It was such a simple request: just come by sometimes and help her garden, but she’d laid it out with no strings attached, no demand for penance or expectation of obeisance. Just a kind old woman who wanted to spend time with her family. With her nephew.
With him .
Ben Solo smiled at his aunt. “I think I’d like that.”