deercountry | Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls...

She nearly pointed out that Obi-Wan had flat-out told her that he was taken away from his family as a child. But she stopped herself, both because she knew it was out of her grudge against him and because she was fully aware of the fact that family never started and ended with blood.

Instead, she shrugged. "With thousands, if not millions, of versions of reality out there, it's pretty safe to assume that in some of them, they are. Which means there's always a chance they might show up here."

And just as much a chance that they wouldn't.

"But he is here. And deserves to be happy, but has to do it here. Because we're kinda stuck."

Ezra opens his mouth, closes it, presses his mouth together and then decides, no, he's going for it.

"You know, that's all that lack of attachment actually means. At least as I understand it. Try to control reality, or other people, and you'll bring unhappiness to yourself and probably the people around you. You can love people, and hold them...but not that tight."

"I've never really thought of attachment as control," she admitted, sipping her tea. "Kind of the opposite, I think. My father always said that you absolutely cannot control who your heart yearns for." She laughed a little. "Believe me, I'm sure my mother could be plenty inconvenient for him."

But he loved her. And loved her fiercely. Right up until...

She shook her head. "You would have liked him. My father. He was a wonderful man. Calm, like Obi-Wan. But...poetic. Dreamy sometimes."

"He does sounds like someone I would have liked. I'm not even sure I disagree with him about the heart feeling whatever it's going to feel."

He carefully takes a long sip of the tea. "Obi-wan's my brother. There was a time and place we decided, together after the spell was broken that it was still true, and I don't want to change that, even if I could. But here it's just my choice, and my feelings to deal with. It's not this version's problem."

"Problem? Why would that be a problem? Who doesn't want to have a brother?" Especially one as pleasant as Ezra.

But it only took her a fraction of a second to follow his meaning.

"You mean, this version isn't as...open? Is that it?"

"Anakin is his brother," Ezra says evenly. "Do you want to even imply to Anakin there's this kid Obi-wan might, maybe, someday, love nearly as much? I don't. I had to talk Anakin into letting me visit their house again, just as fellow Jedi from the future."

He shrugs. "And ok yeah, maybe Obi-wan's a little less inclined to be demonstrative. Except I'm not even sure that's fair to say. He told me his home was always open to me and I had his support, like, immediately. Just because I was a padawan that turned up here."

Edited (word order) 2022-01-18 23:21 (UTC)

She had to let out a small sigh. Of course it was Anakin who was the problem. Anakin, who seemed to think the entire multiverse revolved around him. Anakin, who killed without reason or remorse.

Anakin, who she was desperately trying not to hate.

This wasn't helping.

"Well," she said, "I had ten brothers. I think there's room in everyone's heart for more than one. And I think Obi-Wan is wise enough to realize that. Eventually."

"He said I'm welcome. And Anakin hasn't vetoed that. We'll see what happens from there," Ezra replied. That's all he has to say, at this point.

Then he deliberately smiled brighter. "Wanna see pictures of some of my friends and family who are back in the galaxy?"

Oh, that subject change wasn't subtle at all.

Neither was the smile.

But Ariadne wasn't going to argue the point. Ezra would do what he felt he needed to do. And their friendship was still too new for her to question him.

So she smiled in return. "I would love to!"

But it worked! And besides, he really would like to show her some pictures.

He pulled a hand held holoalbum out of his cloak pocket and flips it on, so it projected an image. "First up, my mom and dad, and tiny me. This is the only picture I have of them. My foster sister Sabine found it for me, because she is also great. Best birthday present ever, honestly."

He was aware that probably said something sad about his birthdays, but to be fair, he had good reasons to usually be sad on his birthday.

Ariadne leaned forward to look at the image. Strangely, it was a technology similar to something back in Valeria. The Elves sometimes captured images in crystals, which would project into the air above them, when properly heated. She hadn't seen one in a long time, but wasn't the least bit thrown by it.

On the contrary: She grinned.

"Look at you!" she said cheerfully. "You're so cute!" She was aware that some Humans took offense to the word 'cute,' but she couldn't help it. He was cute. "And you look just like both of them!"

Ezra had things he took pride in, but if he minded the sort of vulnerability implied by 'cute', he wouldn't have shown her this picture. He just beamed.

"I think I have my dad's nose." And flips through pictures quickly, looking for the next one he wants. "And here's Kanan and Hera. I never called them mom or dad-"

He shrugs. "But they were my foster parents."

At the sight of the strange woman, Ariadne's eyes widened to the size of coins. It wasn't her kind face or pretty eyes. Not even the way she had her hand on her mate's chest. Nope. None of that.

"She's...she's green!"

If Ariadne wanted to meet Ezra's family before, that urge suddenly doubled. Someone green! Who wasn't an Alastrian?

Extraordinary!

Ezra glanced between Ariadne and the picture of Hera, confused by the strength of that reaction.

"Yeah. She's Twi'lek. They come in lots of colors, but green's not uncommon. Lots of species in the galaxy, in a whole array of colors. I've probably got some kind of non-human somewhere in my family tree. When I grow my hair out, it's less black and more blue."

She pressed her fingertips to her lips, as though she were trying to restrain her smile. Of course, it meant nothing here. And even less in Valeria. But the idea of it...that it was perfectly normal for someone to have green skin. That they could walk about, just like anyone else...it was so beautiful to Ariadne.

So beautiful and so anathema to everything she'd known.

And there was something even more beautiful in Ezra's confusion. That he was so matter-of-fact. It made her like his galaxy a whole lot more.

Shyly, she ducked her head, as she worked to restrain herself. She wanted to giggle, it was so wonderful. "Well," she said, "as someone with blue hair, I think it's a very, very good look!"

He'd seen her coloring change, and had realized on some level that she presented a more human look said....something. But it could just more convenient in Trench, which was almost entirely populated by humans. And she's alluded to her people being killed for being different, which he empathizes and sympathized with -

He was beginning to realize just how deep that fear of being regarded as other might go for her.

Keep it light, he told himself.

"I thought it suited you," he replies, matter of factly. "Sabine, her hair is brown naturally, but dyes it all the time. She'll get bored or well, be in some sort of mood, and switch to something else."

People in Ezra's universe were funny.

Savage had said almost the exact same thing.

But Ariadne just smiled and nodded and took it as a pleasantry, happy to change the subject. Especially when a convenient opening presented itself. "Sabine is another member of your family?" she asked. "Your adoptive one?"

He nodded, and flipped through pictures to land on another one.

"There we go. That's all of the...Specters, we called ourselves. The main crew of the Ghost. Sabine's the one of the far left. There's some other people who were around at times. Taught me some pretty important stuff, even. But not as close as sharing living space for years, you know?"

Did she know?

Ariadne had certainly lived in shared spaces throughout her life. First the forest. Then the palace. And Deerington and Trench. But she was only just beginning to understand the pleasure that came with found families.

So maybe she did know.

She smiled, her eyes examining the group. It was kind of incredible how different they all were. And yet still part of the same family. Yes, she definitely wanted that.

"Why do you call yourselves that? Specters, I mean."

Hmm. How to explain.

"Code names. For when we did job and missions. It was less important later when the Empire knew who we all were. But like, I was Specter-6, because I was the newest."

He paused. "You have to understand, when I come from anything - and I mean anything could be twisted by Imperial authorities into a crime punishable by work camps or execution on the spot. The Empire runs on fear."

"Believe me," she said softly, "I understand that."

The Empire and the Red Dragon weren't all that different. She supposed it was mostly a matter of scale. The Emperor conquered whole plants. The Red Dragon savaged kingdoms. She was sure he'd try to take on a planet, if he could.

Fortunately, he couldn't.

"I wish I had a cool," she was pleased with her use of the word 'cool,' "code name, like that. I just had to pretend to be courtiers a lot." Which was only fun half of the time. "I would have loved a title. Maybe...Valeria's Hand? That would sound cool, right?"

He was never happy when someone understood living under that sort of regime so intimately, but Ezra smiled sympathetically anyway, and then his smile got bigger at her use of 'cool'.

"Definitely sounds cool," he replied, firmly. "So who or what's Valeria? Or did you pull that out of thin air?"

She laughed. "Valeria is the name of the kingdom where I grew up," she said. "After my homeland was destroyed. I learned a lot of valuable skills there. How to read and to write."

A pause. She swept her eyes from side to side, a playful smile in the corner of her mouth.

"...how to find things that belonged to people and get them for other people."

"Had some jobs like that, too," Ezra admitted.

"Do Alastrians not have written lnaguage, or were you just not old enough to learn before you lost your family?"

It was an insightful question. One that no one had ever asked her. "We have an oral history," she said. "I can write the words phonetically, but if we ever had an alphabet, it's long lost. Probably under the same waters that swallowed up our island, a thousand years ago."

Ariadne never thought much about Alastrian history. Not that far back, anyway. It was a bit like a dream. One you'd just woken up from, one that was drifting away like smoke from a candle.

"My father hoped I would become the pack storyteller, when I grew up," she mused. "The keeper of all of our memories."

Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls...

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