The Republic has fallen.
In the final days of the Clone Wars, Chancellor Palpatine died under mysterious circumstances. With the Senate struggling to retain a sense of unity, it was the perfect time for the Separatists to strike. And strike they did...
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Lux's homecoming was about as happy as Ahsoka expected it to be.
The landing pad their airspeeder had left that sunny afternoon before the auction felt smaller, less open, now that it was crowded with guards, servants, and solemn Onderonian nobility. Ahsoka felt a pang of longing for the villa as the ship Lux's father had sent them touched down, but she didn't give herself the luxury of hanging back as Lux took her hand and helped her down the exit ramp.
She was surprised to see Lady Chrysilika standing alongside the Imperator, her two young children tucked under each arm. Her hair hung over her shoulders in long locks that glittered like flames in the sun – and the way they arced off to the sides of her body, framing her pregnant belly, drew Ahsoka's notice immediately.
Padmé's old lessons in the language of dress sense prickled at the back of Ahsoka's mind, furtive and vague. Without secondary insight from the Force, sifting through her memories for the key to decipher this presentation was beyond her.
Ahsoka gritted her teeth. She'd only been away a month, but it was amazing how natural it had become to use her non-corporeal senses whenever she needed them. Cutting herself off now felt like her first brutal months in chains all over again.
Beside her, Lux took a deep breath. Recognizing the tense way he held her hand as a subtle display of nerves, she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a thankful smile touching his lips, then withdrew to greet his father. She followed at a respectful distance.
Lux's little half-siblings strained against their mother's arms, trying to get to him, but a warning look from their father stilled them. By the time Lux had crossed the platform, they were perfectly – if a little sullenly – composed.
Lux flashed the pair a grin before bowing once to his father, a shallow, practiced thing that conveyed more with its gracefulness than it did with its depth. He bowed more deeply to Lady Chrysilika, though, and Ahsoka smiled. The stately redheaded Human woman was something of a recluse, and it was rare to see her and her husband in the same place. It was good to see someone giving her proper respect; most of the time, Ahsoka honestly forgot Zakhan Noreino was married.
"Son," Zakhan said as Lux straightened, his voice low and expressionless.
"Father," Lux replied calmly. He crossed his arms behind his back so that only Ahsoka would see how tightly his hands were balled up into fists. "I put the finishing touches on my report on my way here. I'll have it sent to your–"
"Later," Zakhan said, waving his hand dismissively. "We must talk business."
"Business?" Lux echoed.
With barely a nod to his wife and two younger children, Zakhan stalked off, motioning for Lux to follow. Lux reached back to take Ahsoka's hand with a strained smile, and together they jogged to catch up.
