The little cake, neatly boxed in a plain white box with a lovely little bow on top, was precariously balanced on the stack of datapads Anakin was carrying up in the turbolift, but he’d somehow still managed to distract Luke and Leia enough that they had not realized their father carried a fancy confection as he escorted them home from school.
Luke was certainly the easier of the two to distract. If you asked him about the air cars zipping overhead he would chatter on happily for hours. Leia, though, was already a sharp and keen observer of her surroundings.
Thankfully, correcting her brother, or even her father, was possibly her favorite pastime, and Anakin was able to lead Luke astray just enough to keep Leia occupied. So what if they bickered the whole way home? The cake he had ordered two weeks earlier just for tonight would be kept hidden until the entire herd of children was in bed, and he and Padme could snatch a few, sweet, blissful minutes of romance together….before they both passed out from the exhaustion of being parents of five, not to mention their jobs with the Republic.
Anakin was feeling rather proud of his smuggling ability as he crossed through the threshold of their apartment. It was hard to fool his children. Harder still to hide sweets. But he’d done-
The stuffed bantha came out of nowhere, with no warning, flying like a fuzzy, well loved missile. It took out the cake box and the pile of datapads. With a squelching thud, the cake met the marble floor, sliding along it, leaving a trail of soft, airy cake and rich, creamy frosting for a solid meter. The remains came to rest at Padme’s bare feet.
They both stared down at it for a few moments, baby Jinn babbling in Padme’s arms. Then she lifted her eyes, meeting Anakin’s. She was trying not to laugh.
Anakin sighed, and shrugged. “Happy All Hearts Day, angel.”
Padme gingerly stepped around the decimated cake, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. “Happy All Heart Day, Ani. I’m sure it was delicious.”
“The food on the Coronet is better,” Aled whispered to Korkie.
“That’s because they season it on the Coronet,” Korkie whispered back, reaching for the salt a third time.
Aled took the salt from Korkie. “I mean, the rest of the trip has been nice enough.”
Korkie nodded. “I’m not sure I’m the cruising type, if I’m being honest.”
Aled tasted his entree, then discreetly placed his napkin over his plate, giving up. He sighed, smiling sheepishly at Korkie. “Me too.”
Korkie followed Aled’s lead, trusting that the food wouldn’t be improved with more salt. He gestured to a server droid, who trundled over.
“Yes, Senator Kryze?”
“We’re finished with these. Could we have more wine and our dessert?”
The droid did a little movement that seemed meant to be a bow. “Of course, Senator. We here on the Halcyon aim to meet your every desire.”
Korkie struggled to suppress an eyeroll. Every droid and crew member had rattled off that line or something similar in every interaction since they came aboard.
“I desire some food with actual flavor,” Aled muttered under his breath as the droid moved off.
Korkie snorted a little laugh, then leaned in, kissing Aled quickly. “At least the company isn’t bad, I hope?”
Aled smiled, and kissed Korkie, a little more lingering this time. “The company is exceptional. The best I could ask for, in fact.”
Korkie leaned close, resting his forehead to Aled’s. “Happy All Hearts Day, cyare.”
Lily spun the comlink around in her hand, watching the sunset from her little, damp perch, her long legs dangling over the ledge, the quiet pink sea lapping ever so gently at the base of the cliff.
She’d been alright. It had been months. She’d moved on, busying herself by helping her family with the myriad of new babies. First little Jinn, taking turns occupying his big brothers and sisters with Korkie and Ahsoka. Then back to Mandalore, doing what she could to be helpful for her aunt and uncle, overwhelmed with a toddler and a bedridden Bo, and then a tiny, premature Edi. Her own parents had had it the easiest, with just the one baby and all the time in the world. Her time “helping” them was mostly walks with her dad and Avi and drinking early morning cups of tea while her mother nursed the baby.
So, she’d been ok, happily diving into her family in a way she hadn’t in years, ignoring the lingering sting of it.
She huffed out a sigh, and caved, playing the message again.
“Hi Lily. I know it’s been awhile, and I know we agreed to it and all. And this may be a stupid day to call on, but I just wanted you to know I still think about you. And I miss you. And I know we were never going to work, but, you know, it was really great while we had each other, you know?
Anyway, that’s it. That was all I wanted to say. Give your family my love. Dica sends theirs. Happy All Hearts Day, Lily.”
Lily flicked off the comm, resisting the urge to hurl it into the sea. That would be dumb and unnecessary.
She wasn’t mad at Tiana. Not really. They’d ended on mutually agreed terms. They didn’t make sense as a couple. Not really. Not once they were outside the high pressure of finding Dica.
But it still felt bad.
It still hurt to see Tiana, now with her hair cropped short, her high cheekbones filled out from living in stability for the first time in a long while.
Lily realized, though, as much as the sting was still there, really more a dull ache most of the time, that this was her doing as much as Tiana’s. They had come to the same conclusion, and they had ultimately decided, together, to part ways. She really couldn’t be mad at Tiana, because to be angry with Tiana meant she should be angry with herself, too.
And she knew, no matter how much she wanted to be churlish and crabby about it, that it had been the right decision.
With another sigh, Lily stood up, shaking life back into her limbs. She took a moment to admire the stars, just now beginning to pin prick the darkening sky. Then she climbed back up the cliff face, scaling the railing meant to keep sightseers on the little viewing platform.
She shoved her hands in her coat- the breeze was picking up with the setting sun- and ignored all the starry eyed couples, heading back toward her ship.
Maybe she’d call Tiana back in the morning.
Tol’ket woke with a start, then realized, with maddening embarrassment, that it was his own snore that had startled him.
He sat up with a groan, only to find Bo sprawled on the sofa, her feet in his lap, snoring her own soft snores. Their glasses of wine sat half drunk on the low table, the bottle still two thirds full. He snorted a laugh.
“Wild night,” he said to no one in particular.
Bo grumbled her way to semi consciousness. “What?” She propped herself up on her elbows, blinking her green eyes blurrily at him.
“I said we had a wild night,” he repeated, gesturing at their wine.
She looked where he pointed. “Oh, gods,” she moaned, flopping back down into the cushions of the sofa. “What have we become?”
Tol’ket leaned over her, kissing her, relishing her sleepy affection. “Parents.”
She laughed. “I am a fan of the kids. I am less a fan of wasting good wine.”
He patted her leg, then gently moved her feet to the cushion beside him, standing and stretching the stiffness from his body. “Don’t worry, my darling,” he said, giving her a wink. “I’ll pour the wine back in the bottle, and only you and I will know.”
Bo sat up, swinging her feet to the floor. “It’s going to take us three years to get through that bottle at this rate.”
“Perhaps by then the children won’t leave us so exhausted that we’ll actually be able to finish an entire glass in one sitting,” he called over his shoulder as he moved through the house into the kitchen, carefully pouring their wine back into the bottle before sealing it tightly. They were hosting a small dinner party in a couple of nights. He was sure he could pawn off this particular bottle on their guests, and no one would realize.
By the time he’d made it back to the sitting room, Bo had rallied enough to tidy up, picking up some of Eli’s toys, folding Edi’s blankets and neatly stowing them away. He grabbed her hand, stopping her, and pulled her to him. “Leave it.”
“If we’re not going to be able to survive a little romantic evening, I might as well tidy.”
“Who says we can’t have a little romance, hmm?” he asked, tipping her chin up so her eyes met his. She smiled at him before kissing him with the same fire that had done him in so many years ago.
And then through the baby monitor, Edi squawked in hunger. They broke apart, laughing. “Edi. Edi says we can’t have a little romance,” Bo said with an amused sigh. She turned to go upstairs and tend to their baby, but Tol’ket stopped her, pulling her back to him.
“I got her. Go take a bath. We’ll resume this in a little bit.”
“I’m going to be asleep in a little bit,” Bo said with a frown, before nestling her head into the crook of his neck. He buried his nose in her hair, and breathed deep. She smelled like home.
“That’s alright.”
She pulled a little away, looking into his eyes, a brow quirked quizzically. He smiled and kissed her forehead. “This is the life we wanted, cyare. I’m ok with falling asleep on the sofa three sips into our wine, and feeding our baby while you take a bath, just to settle down and to sleep with you again.” He kissed her again, then whispered in her ear, “That’s romance for me right now.”
She melted against him, and he enveloped her in his arms. She was struggling to physically bounce back from her difficult pregnancy and Edi’s terrifying birth. He knew she hid it well, but he knew Bo was exhausted. He kissed her once more. “Go. Relax. You got all day with her, anyway.”
She nodded, kissed his cheek, and resumed her path back upstairs, this time to their bath. “Happy All Hearts Day, cyare,” she called over her shoulder.
He moved to follow her, to go get Edi and feed her, before she woke Eli up, too. “Happy All Hearts Day, love.”
“She really is just perfect,” Obi-Wan sighed, laying Avi back down in her bassinet. “Why does it feel so different this time?” he asked, looking over to Satine.
Satine patted the bed beside her, and Obi-Wan moved hastily to slide back onto the plush mattress, settling into the pile of pillows and cushions. Satine offered him another bite of the cake they were sharing before answering. “Do you worry we loved the others less?” she asked.
He shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. “No. Well, I don’t think that’s what it is. It just feels so….quieter with her.”
Satine laughed, and pulled his chin toward her, kissing his cheek. “Darling, we were barely twenty when we had Korkie. And we had him in the midst of a monumental rebuilding and restructuring project. He was a welcomed distraction, but we were so terribly busy and stretched thin.” He nodded thoughtfully, stealing another bite of cake, before taking a sip of wine, letting her go on. “When Lily Bo came along, things were slightly quieter on that front, but we already had a five year old. And then we went and adopted a traumatized nine year old while in the midst of having a brand new baby. We were insane.” Satine tipped her head back into the pillows behind her, chuckling to herself at the memories. Oh to be full of youth and enthusiasm.
Obi-Wan looked over at Avi again, who was, as months old infants tended to do, still sleeping soundly. “Insane in a strong word, darling. More like willfully optimistic.”
“Yes, maybe that.” Satine smiled at the exhausting but happy memories and took a bite of their cake. “Avi feels different because we are older and settled. Our people are safe, our government is stable and well managed, and she’s the only child we have now. We loved Korkie and Lily and Ani just as much as we love Avi, but now we get to enjoy her in ways we didn’t necessarily get to enjoy them.” She frowned a little. “It’s actually rather sad, now that I think about it.”
Obi-Wan pulled her close, practically scooping her into his lap. She barely managed to save the cake from tumbling off the bed. “Oh darling, don’t be sad. I am sure they would all tell you they were very happy children. It’s quite common for siblings to have very different experiences growing up. You can’t possibly tell me that you and Bo had the exact same experiences, now, can you?”
He was right. Of course he was right. Satine did not have to think hard at all to know how different her early years were from Bo’s. “You’re right, Ben. I suppose we did do a very good job, considering.”
“I think all of our adult children are exceptional humans, frankly,” Obi-Wan said with a rather smug expression. “And I am sure Avi will follow right along in her brothers’ and sisters’ footsteps…..just….remarkably far behind.”
Satine smiled, feeling rather smug herself, especially after hearing that Lily had finally accepted a position with RHI that she had been pondering for months. “They are remarkable.” She sighed, content, looking over to Avi. “And she is perfect.” Then she turned to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Thank you for giving me this life, my love. Thank you for being such an exceptional father.”
He framed her face with his hands, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs. “It is I who should be thanking you, Satine. This is a life I never once thought was possible for me, yet, here I am, a proud father and extremely lucky husband.”
“You don’t believe in luck.”
“No, I suppose not, but whatever made you ask me to stay, I am grateful for it.” He kissed her tenderly, then smiled again. “Happy All Hearts Day, Satine.”
She smiled back, feeling dizzily, girlishly in love with him all over again. “Happy All Hearts Day, Ben.”