If I rested here a while more, would you hold me to your heart

[neverlosemyfocus]

It had been a relief to leave Coruscant, as her pregnancy progressed to the point where she could no longer disguise it, where she was showing too much. She couldn't take the chance of someone from the Temple seeing her, and getting word to Obi-Wan. And Alderaan was... peaceful, in a way that Coruscant could NEVER be, not with so many people inhabiting its surface. The distance from the Temple, from the place she used to call home helped. She didn't have to worry (although she did, she couldn't stop herself) about being seen, about him finding out. She was still careful, but she could relax.

A little.

Pregnancy was difficult on Siri. She was exhausted, drained in a way that she'd never experienced before. It was almost as bad as the weakness she'd felt after surviving her injuries on Azure. Losing her footing on what had been her last mission with Obi-Wan was only the beginning of her clumsiness. She moved awkwardly, tripping and stumbling sometimes over what was only slightly uneven surfaces.

And that wasn't helped by the dizziness that seemed to linger with no provocation. If it wasn't for Breha she wouldn't have known how to deal with any of it. But the queen – her friend, had stayed by her side as much as she could, as had Bail.

She was more destructive, now, as her control of the Force slipped through her fingers. She hadn't had this sort of loss of control since she was a youngling, and it disturbed her. As did the loss of emotional control. Despite her training, and the years she'd spent learning the ability to control and manage her emotions... it did nothing to help the mood swings. Which only made her loss of control of the Force worse. So she withdrew as it worsened, keeping to her rooms or one of the more isolated gardens. She didn't want to cause anyone harm because she couldn't kriffing maintain control.

It was the garden she was slowly making her way to now, settling wearily onto a carved stone bench set beneath a stand of Hydenock trees. “Kriff,” she breathed, frustrated at her inability to do anything without feeling as though she’d run a parsec. She cradled the swell of her stomach with her hand, thumb brushing soothing, absent-minded half-circles on it.

It was times like this, when she was alone, that she missed Obi-Wan the most. Missed the Order. More Obi-Wan than the Order, anymore. But she'd done this, made the choice she did because of him. To keep him from losing the only home he'd ever known. The only thing he'd ever BEEN. She'd had to let him go. It was the only way.

But she still missed their conversations. Their arguments and banter. His humour and reserve. Just... him. There was no point in clinging to the past. This was her life, now. She couldn't stop missing him, though. She would always miss him. And worry about him, the more she heard about the fighting in the galaxy, the war.

“I hope I can tell you about him, someday,” she murmured softly. He could never know their child, but she found it difficult to consider never telling their child about him. Perhaps she could simply tell their child about her friend.

She could at least do that.

The Alderaanian wind blew through her hair, carrying with it the scent of starblossom and T'iil flowers, and Siri closed her eyes.

A broken mess

[neverlosemyfocus]

“KRIFF,” Siri spat, flinching at the force of the explosion of pottery and marble, twisting away from it in an instinctive attempt to shield herself and her unborn child. She was shaken, and more than a little unnerved. She'd been... upset, and angry for no kriffing reason that she could determine. The Force had swelled within her, and just as quickly fluttered and pulsed and slipped out of her grasp... and the statue exploded. As did the large pillar it was displayed on.

“Siri!” She could sense Bail before he reached her, his hands settling on her shoulder, turning her to face him and pulling her gently away from the mess she'd left behind. “Are you all right?” Shards of broken statue and broken pillar had left her injured and bleeding, but she was all right. Turning inward, she reached out, carefully, so carefully, towards her unborn child, almost frantically checking to see if she was all right.

Thank the Force.

“I'm all right.” She turned worried, plaintive blue eyes up at him. “We're all right. Did I hurt anyone?” Force, tell me that I didn't hurt anyone. He shook his head, and she couldn't breathe for the relief coursing through her.

“Only yourself,” he replied, reaching out to touch the blood trickling down her cheek.

That was all right, then. As long as her... unexpected loss of control hadn't hurt anyone. She stared at the wreckage that had once been a statue on display, uneasy and more than a little afraid. She had been fortunate this time, blessed by the kriffing Force.

What if she wasn't, next time?

Remembrance can be a sentence, but it comes to you with a second chance in tow

[neverlosemyfocus]

Siri was exhausted, absolutely aching, her hair drenched with sweat. She had been in labor for hours, and the pain of it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. But it was worth it. So very, very worth it. She gazed down at the tiny being nestled in her arms with something like awe. HER child. Their child.. A gift from the Force.

And he would never know her. Even though it was necessary, even though it was the only option she had, the only way for her to keep him from losing everything... it still broke her heart. Tears trickling down her cheeks, she pressed a gentle kiss to her child's head. “I love you,” she breathed quietly.

“What are you going to name her?” Bail asked softly. She traced gentle fingertips down her child's cheek, before looking up at him with a sad smile. She'd had to learn Old Corellian for a mission, once, and she'd never really forgotten it. One word in particular came back to her now.

Larel. Love.

“Larel,” she told him. “Her name is Larel.”