Accismus⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• Anakin Skywalker⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

84.

Just as Sol and Obi-wan feared, Sol felt the first signs of labour while Obi-wan was at work.

He had been excelling at the harvesting plant and the new income was a blessing. They were able to prepare for the birth with nutritious formula and a large cot to house the twins for when they slept. It appeared as if things were on the rise, but even though Sol grew more and more frustrated by the constant kicking inside her stomach, she constantly worried for when her due date came around.

It took a great deal of strength and energy to continue to shield her signature. With the help of Obi-wan, her white flame was dulled enough to blend into the realm unnoticed. She was barely able to simmer the white energy to a candlelight as most of her power was going to the twins. They lapped up her rays of light and grew stronger with it every day. Obi-wan had said that they would be strong with the ways of the Force, and that they would undoubtably hold the ability to become Jedi Knights. 

Before Order 66, this would have been amazing news. But now, while Jedi were being hunted, it brought the question of their safety. If Sol's children were Force-sensitive and had the opportunity to become Jedi, they would be a target for the Empire. The Emperor would not like to hear that the Jedi were being reborn, as it could mean the return of the Republic and the thriving of the light side of the Force.

But before Sol could begin worrying about this, she had to go through the agonising process of childbirth, which began on an afternoon two days before her due date.

As Sol made her way from the bedroom to the bathroom, she felt a twist in her stomach. She paused in her waddle and stood in the hall, staring at the wall in front of her. The twist wasn't painful at first. It was more of a tug to her navel, something that she used to feel when the Force was warning her of something incoming. But when a dribble of liquid ran down her leg, Sol threw her hand up to lean against the wall as a splitting pain attacked her insides.

'Oh, kriff,' she hissed, her waist-length hair falling in front of her face as she looked to the floor. Her eyes scrunched shut and she let out a suppressed yelp with the pain spreading from her stomach. Sol tried to ease its sharpness by helplessly gripping at the bump that was dying to release its hold, but she learnt quickly that it was futile.

'Oh, no... oh, lord... not now, please... not while I'm alone...'

They had planned for this circumstance, but Sol had spent every day praying it would be unnecessary. She prayed that she would go into labour in the evening when Obi-wan was by her side, and that the Lars' contact would only be used for some support during the birth. But Sol had believed that she was objectively unlucky, because Obi-wan was in the middle of his shift at the plant, and she knew that the birth was going to be quick. She didn't know how she knew; she could just feel it by the way the pain travelled from her stomach to her waist, and by how the sweat soaked through her linen dress within seconds. The twins were coming, and Sol was terrified. 

It took a moment to find the strength to push off of the wall of the hallway. Sol had to force her back to take the weight of her stomach as it had done for the past eight months, and with a strained cry, she made her towards the steps. The transmitter was on the coffee table of the living room, as it was the most central place of the house. No matter where Sol was in the complex, she could make it to the transmitter with several steps. It was an advantage to have such a small house, but when each step Sol had to make were twice as painful as the last, it made no difference to her.

With loud 'oof's and 'ahh's, Sol was able to make it into the living room. She gripped her stomach that sent ripples of shock and twitches through her body. She couldn't help but let out exclamations and couldn't control the shake in her hands. As Sol reached for things to lean on, her fingers appeared trembling and covered in sweat. The transmitter was within reach and Sol let herself fall back onto the sofa, hoping it would ease some of the agony. But it didn't fade in the slightest, and Sol was forced to fumble with the keypad to type in the Lars' farm's number.