Summary: “Your life has changed again. The floor has fallen from under you. You are a traitor. An imperial collaborator in a planet recently freed from imperial control. The very people you were allied against now hold your life in their hands. The people of Lothal may call you a Loth cat, but you’d sooner call yourself a Loth rat.”
After having spent the last few years as a political prisoner, you are finally given a choice as to what will happen to you now that Lothal is freed.
Warnings: Dead dove; do not eat. Implied / referenced SA, Implied / referenced domestic violence, implied / referenced torture, implied / referenced imprisonment. There is nothing explicit in this work or graphic, it has all happened in the past, but be mindful.
Word Count: 7,277 Words
Estimated Reading Time: 26:28
Part one of the Loth Rat, Loth Cat, Loth Wolf series.
“Please let me in,” the plea leaves Hera’s lips quietly as she stands on your doorstep, “I need to speak to you.”
A huff leaves your lips despite yourself and you have an urge to slam the door on her face. Seeing her nose break would certainly make things better. Being able to give her just a shred of the pain she caused you would go a long way to healing the terrible injuries she and the others have inflicted on you.
However, you decide not to risk it. Hera is a rebellion general and the rebellion has won. Lothal has changed hands and the fate of you and your child are at stake. You can’t afford to anger those who wield the power.
“What are you doing here? Have you come to arrest me?” You cross your arms protectively in front of yourself and offer her your best glare. The way she looks away breaking eye contact is some solace. A small reassurance that you have some power still when the last two years have made you feel so weak.
Hera crosses inside your home and looks around. Her steps are hesitant and her eyes scan the area from place to place. You can see her cataloguing everything mentally. Running a tally of what she sees and archiving it all to memory.
You are sure a part of her is resentful at the splendor of your home. Your house is the biggest on Lothal. A wedding gift from your husband. Art from around the entire galaxy adorns the walls and a large imperial banner hangs at the entrance. It’s a far cry from the tiny little apartment you had in Alderaan when Hera met you for the first time.
“I didn’t come here to arrest you,” Hera softly calls your name, “I would never. You aren’t one of them.”
Them. An imperial.
You grit your teeth at the way she looks at you. There is pity in her eyes and a deep sinking regret. She feels bad for you. You have-had the world at your feet, yet she’s the one who feels pity.
A quiet rage forms and you scoff.
“But I am, General Syndulla,” you wave to the splendor and riches around you, “I switched sides. Don’t you remember?”
You wish you could see yourself from her eyes. Idly, you wonder what she sees when she compares who you were back then to who you are now.
When you first met Hera 4 years ago, you were a young girl from Alderaan. Your parents were friends with the Organas and you had been raised a noble. The life of nobility was stifling and your only escape came from art. Eventually Hera’s travels led her to your home planet and the two of you had struck a friendship. When she had offered to take you with her, you had agreed and joined her crew.
Eventually, when Hera had allied herself with the rebellion, you had too. Alderaan had never been too involved with the rebels openly and held some freedom in the empire-as much freedom as a tyrannical government could offer anyway, so the cause wasn’t something you had been dying to join when you signed up for her crew. Yet the suffering of the galaxy was something you wanted to change. You joined the rebellion anyway because it was the right thing to do.
You had joined her and the Ghost crew and had been a rebel. You weren’t a fighter like Zeb or Sabine, a Jedi like Kanan, or a pilot like Hera, but you had experience with politics and could negotiate. When the crew bartered for supplies or needed to make a deal, you were there to step in.
You had been a rebel back then. Had believed in the cause once upon a time. When a young Ezra Bridger had joined the crew a month or two before you were captured, it was you who had made him feel like he could make a difference. The young, compassionate girl from back then would not recognize you now.
You had changed a lot in 2 years. You were now dressed in imperial finery. The dress you wore was especially commissioned and was in a striking shade of red. The jewels at your neck were from imperial conquests and denoted your status. Everything about you was imperial.
You were no longer that little rebel from Alderaan. That girl had died during the several rounds of torture you had endured after the people you had once called friends had gotten you captured. In her place now stood an imperial collaborator, a mother, and a wife.
You wonder if Hera recognizes you now. If she could remember the girl you had once been. What did she see before her now? A friend? A regret? A traitor?
Her eyes lower to the ground and she says your name again. This time, her voice is soft.
“You aren’t one of them. I know you. I know what happened-“
“Shut up,” you hiss out. Her words have struck a deep ache in you. You don’t want her to try and apologize. Not now. Not ever.
You spin away from her and rub at your neck. Somewhere beneath all the jewels in your necklace is a thin ring of charred flesh from where the metal bars had held you steady as the empire tortured you. The one request you had always made to your husband when he bought you a gift was that he please buy you something that would cover up the memory. You always told yourself that if you couldn’t see the scar, it was like everything never happened. Yet now it burns and aches beneath the glittering gems. An ugly thing in the gilded life you have now.
Hera’s words are infuriating. They strike a spot that has never truly healed. A betrayal and an abandonment that runs so deep that you could faint if you spend too long dwelling on.
Your finger points at her face, “Don’t tell me you know what happened. No one knows.”
It’s the truth.
Everyone on Lothal has heard the story of what happened to you. You’re the conquest of the Admiral. The rebel captured and turned into the spoils of war. You’re a story mothers tell their daughters as a warning. There are even rumors of parents scarring their children to keep their beauty from leading them to your fate. You wish your mother had done that to you too. Maybe then you would have avoided this happening.
“I am-“
Hera cuts herself off. No doubt she is remembering all the terrible rumors she’s heard. Lothal has plenty.
“We tried to rescue you. I tried. I broke protocol to try and get you back, but it was impossible. They had you secured in a facility. By the time we had finally made a plan to move in, you had been moved because-“
You squeeze your eyes shut. Her words are painful reminders of those first few months in captivity.
You had been captured about 2 years ago. What should have been a routine supply drop had turned disastrous. You, Sabine, and Ezra had been left unable to flee as soldiers surrounded you. There had been no other option but for you to sacrifice yourself for them.
They were just kids. You had a few years on them. You thought you could endure a few rounds of torture and that your crew would eventually return for you and save you.
You had been wrong.
What had followed for months was severe. Governor Pryce had overseen your torture herself. She had used every tool at her disposal to get you to crack. While she had succeeded in breaking you, she had failed in obtaining information. You had nothing to offer her in terms of plans or rebel troop information. In the end, she had labeled you a lost cause and suggested you be executed. Your death, she claimed, could be a deterrent to any other rebel faction on Lothal.
But you hadn’t died. Someone else had advocated in your behalf. Someone had decided you were worth sparing.
Another shiver runs down your spine.
At your silence, Hera continues.
“I know what he did,” her hand is gentle when she touches your shoulder, “We all know.”
You flinch away from her touch and bite your cheek. It is a nervous habit. The skin there is already raw from your time spent in the bunker awaiting news as to what was happening on the planet. It bleeds freely when you bite down again.
Hera thinks she knows what you went through, but she has no idea. No one does. After Pryce had been done with you, you had been broken. A month of repeated torture had left you destroyed. When she had told you about your execution, a part of you had been so relieved. Death would mean everything stopped and you could rest.
But then someone else had stepped in.
When you had been in Alderaan, you had studied arts and culture. Your parents had wanted you to be a good noble lady. They had spent money to have you learn everything they could about painting, music, dancing, and politics.
Those aspects of yourself had captured someone’s attention.
When you had been brought before the empire to be executed, Grand Admiral Thrawn himself had interceded. He had suggested that your background would prove useful in his studies of Lothal and Ryloth. Ever the art enthusiast, he had asked for you to be gifted to him.
Gifted.
Gifted.
Like you were a prize to be won or a thing to be given away.
He had gotten his way, of course. Pryce had handed you over to him. From then on, your true captivity had started.
Under Thrawn, you were made an imperial collaborator. He kept you at his side when he traveled and sought your council when he needed information. Broken and vulnerable as you were from the torture and imprisonment, his offer seemed like a small relief.
He didn’t lock you up in a tiny cell or beat you bloody. He didn’t starve you or drug you with a truth serum. Instead, he treated you like one of his crew. You weren’t trustworthy, had a guard nearby to keep you from fleeing, but he was civil. Polite. It was a change from Pryce and the other imperials.
You used your education to help him. Your background aided him in understanding the planet he was in. Over time, the two of you had grown rather close.
Having lost your crew and been left alone for so long in a tiny cell, his attention was a lifeline. He offered you the opportunity to feel like you had a purpose again-
Even if it came at a price.
Bile gathers in your throat but you push it down. A cruel laugh snakes its way past your lips. You shove her hand aside and perch yourself on the sofa. Your movements are refined, graceful, just the way he liked them.
“And what did he do to me? Hm?”
You want her to say it. Want to hear it from her mouth. You don’t think you can be the one to do it. If you say it, the words will get lodged in your throat.
Hera winces.
“I am so sorry,” she whispers. It’s all she can offer after a long silence. You look away.
Thrawn’s salvation came at a price. The Chiss soldier wasn’t altruistic. He sought the value of every person he met and didn’t like to waste his time. It wasn’t pity or selflessness that had made him speak on your behalf back then.
No. Not at all.
You had always been told you were beautiful. Your mother and father had often remarked that you could put a Twi’lek to shame with your beauty. It was something that had once made you blush and preen.
Yet that feature had become a cage.
You supposed it made sense. Thrawn was an alien. He was not respected in imperial spaces. The empire freely took his successes but looked its nose down at him. For every compliment he received over his strategy, there were two more slurs thrown his way behind his back.
It made sense that a man like him would look for a status symbol. He would need something to show off. A way to elevate himself and attain more respect.
And who better than the beautiful noble turned rebel from Alderaan? A human girl he could use for his advancement. His marriage to a human would legitimize his status among human soldiers. It would make him seem like he truly belonged.
You were the perfect candidate. You were educated in the arts which so fascinated him and were versed in politics which puzzled him. You were also high born and could have made a good match for himself back on Csilla had you been a member of the Ascendancy. Plus, you were young and beautiful. A little doll he could dress in finery and show off to when needed.
You ticked every box and fit all his needs. When he had saved you all those years ago, his help had come at a price.
And you had paid it.
Maker, you had paid it.
Recently freed, you had given up on the Rebellion. Your friends had left you for dead in the empire’s clutches, so what loyalty did you owe them? You had shed away your guilt and joined Thrawn willingly.
At first he had frightened you. Those glowing red eyes found their way into your nightmares. You dreaded the day he decided you were useless and discarded you. You did everything you could to help his efforts with the empire.
Eventually you had liked it. Some time with him had been a relief. He was not violent or cruel. He didn’t laugh like Pryce when you were hurt or taunt you about what had happened to you.
No, he was amicable. You quickly learned that he would be polite if you were respectful. That he would treat you right if you obeyed and that he saw you as an equal when you worked together.
When a soldier had insulted you under his breath, Thrawn had defended you. When you had cut yourself on a relic and hissed in pain, he had gently taken your hand to examine the wound. When you had woken up screaming from a nightmare of a droid shocking you over and over again, he had stayed up speaking with you gently over a cup of tea.
His treatment compared to the empire’s had soothed the trauma of your earlier captivity. Eventually, you had willingly accepted your place at his side. You knew you were his prisoner, that he would kill you if you tried to escape, but you didn’t mind it. As long as you were obedient, he was kind and respectful. So you became obedient.
And when the time came that he began to pursue you, you offered yourself willingly. When he invited you to his personal quarters one night with a pretext for tea, you went with him knowing what he truly had in mind. It was the price you had to pay for his kindness.
Your hands shake in your lap and you press them against your legs. Hera notices, of course. Her voice turns gentle, soothing.
“I know what he did. It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers, “None of it.”
“No,” you agree slowly, “It was yours.”
It was her fault. Had she rescued you then, she could have spared you everything.
You take a little delight in her flinch and the guilt that clouds her features. It’s a small comfort against all of the pain she put you through.
With time, you had given yourself completely to Thrawn. Eventually, the rumors had spread that you were his conquest. He always displayed the relics he stole from the empire’s colonization on his walls. You were just another one of the treasures he could boast about.
He married you and kept you locked in a manor. You were the pretty little human who boosted his status. Lothal called you the little Loth Cat caught in the jaws of a Loth wolf.
It wasn’t so bad. Being married to him had its perks. You had riches, status, and respect. His men were loyal to him. They saw you as an extension of his will and respected you. Under his name, you were no longer a rebel traitor. Now, you were an imperial bride.
And eventually you fell for him too. He was kinder than the others and respectful. He valued your input and praised your art. He treated you well and never struck you if you didn’t disobey.
You came to love him, or that’s what you told yourself. And while he wasn’t very expressive emotionally, you thought he loved you too.
You twirl the wedding band around your finger as you think.
“I was happy, you know, before you came. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” You close your eyes wishing she’d disappear.
If she were gone, maybe Thrawn would return. You aren’t too sure what happened to him, but you know he’s gone. The men he left stationed with you evacuated during Order 13 and Rukh left you and your son behind. That would have never happened if Thrawn were here to stop them.
The citizens of Lothal have also been celebrating for days now. Their shouts and cheers are pinpricks against your heart. You aren’t sure the specifics, but you’re sure your husband is gone.
“That’s not what Kallus said,” Hera sits at your side, “He said you looked like a ghost.”
Kallus.
The name invokes some small emotion in you. You haven’t thought of him in a while. Not since your husband had told you he was a traitor.
Alexsandr Kallus had been a friend to you. During your time with Thrawn, he had been one of the few imperial soldiers that had spoken to you with some respect. At first, you suspected it was merely because your presence was unavoidable with how close Thrawn demanded you stay with him. However, eventually, you thought you truly found a friend.
You weren’t quite sure what had happened to Alex after he had returned with a broken leg, but he had treated you better since. He made it a point to ask you about how you were doing or how you were feeling. If he saw a mark on you from when you had displeased Thrawn and he had given you a bruise, he would bring you ice or something to help.
He was kind. A true friend. It had hurt when he had left. You didn’t blame him for betraying the empire. You just wished he hadn’t left you alone.
“And what did Alex say?” You keep your voice steady but you are genuinely curious.
If Hera notices how gently you say his nickname, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead she stares down at her hands.
“He’s worried. The entire time we were working to free Lothal, he kept bringing you up. He made Mon Mothma promise you would receive immunity if we could free the planet. He said you needed our help the most.”
You taste blood from how tightly you are biting your cheek.
“He feels guilty,” Hera admits, “The night we picked him up on that escape pod, he practically wanted to take a ship to Lothal to rescue you. We all did. There was just no way we could get through the blockade.”
You hum quietly and look towards the stairs where Theon is sleeping.
“I wouldn’t have left if you had,” you calmly state, “I had Theon.”
Theon.
Mitth’eo’nuruodo.
Your first born son. A little Chiss-human hybrid with pale blue skin and your facial features. His pupils are your eye color while the sclera the same glowing red as his father.
He is perhaps the greatest gift you have ever received. Amidst the loneliness and torment of your time with the empire, your son is the one joy you have. You would have never have left him if Alex had arrived for you that day. Thrawn would have never have let you escape with him either.
Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see Hera touch her own womb. You aren’t quite sure what to make of that.
“I’m sorry,” she repeats, “For everything that happened to you.”
You want to tell her off for her apology, mock her guilt, and throw everything back in her face because her inaction is what doomed you to this, but you don’t. Instead, you rub at your arms in anxiety. You’re too tired to be angry.
“If you’re here, then Lothal is lost. Has the empire evacuated? Has Thrawn left?”
It pains you to ask that. You aren’t sure you are prepared for the answer. More than that, you aren’t sure which one you want.
You think you love Thrawn. You’ve been an obedient wife all this time and you share a son. He treats you well if you behave. Isn’t that what love is? Isn’t that all you can hope for as someone captured by the empire?
Hera nods once.
Your world shatters.
You close your eyes.
You knew he was gone. Thrawn would have returned for you and Theon right away if he hadn’t disappeared, but it still hurts. He’s been a constant in your life these past few years and now he’s gone. There’s an ache somewhere in your chest that pulses with grief.
“He and Ezra were on board a ship when it jumped into hyperspace. The windows were broken and Purrgil were leading it away. I don’t think the airlock was intact. I doubt anyone on board survived.”
She clenches her jaw. Ezra’s loss weighs on her. For the first time, you see how exhausted she is. There are dark circles under her eyes, her skin is a shade paler than normal, and her clothes are disheveled. She is grieving. Grieving Ezra and Kanan and the rebel fleet that died in a failed assault.
You feel the same way. The loss of Thrawn is painful. If he hadn’t taught you to maintain your composure and exhibit elegance, you think you’d scream and wail. Anything to release the emotions that swirl within you now.
Your chest feels heavy and you twirl the wedding ring around your finger. It is now the only memory you have of him besides Theon. You aren’t sure whether you want to keep it close or throw it away.
You let your head sag against the sofa instead. Staring up at the ceiling, you mull on your options.
If Lothal is gone, what remains? The empire has fled the planet. Perhaps they’ll return to reclaim it eventually, but does it matter? Their victory means nothing now that Thrawn is gone. Your one bargaining chip was your marriage. Married to a high ranking soldier, you and Theon could have been protected. Now, the empire has no incentive to keep you alive. Why waste the money sheltering you if there’s no one around to hold them accountable?
What then is left? You’re a traitor to the rebellion. A rebel turned imperial wife. You don’t think Lothal will welcome you with open arms. And Theon? Theon has the mark of Thrawn. One glance at his little body will give away that he’s a hybrid. On the entire planet, there’s only one alien with his particular species. It won’t be hard for the people of Lothal to guess his parentage. He wouldn’t be safe.
Plus, in your current condition, you don’t have a lot of options either.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
You hate how frightened you sound. You don’t like being afraid. Fear is paralyzing. Thrawn never liked you showing weakness.
Hera takes your hand. The touch is foreign but familiar. You haven’t been touched by someone who wasn’t capable of hurting you in years.
Your mind goes to all those years ago when she had offered you her hand in Alderaan. You had eagerly taken it then excited for the prospect of joining her crew. Now you aren’t sure if you would still make that choice. If you could go back in time to that moment knowing what you know now, maybe you wouldn’t have accepted her proposition.
“You have immunity. Mon Mothma agreed with Kallus. You are a victim. They don’t want to see you punished. Bail Organa also remembers you. You were friends with his daughter. He argued on your behalf. I did too. You have options,” she squeezes your hand in reassurance, “Organa has offered you asylum in Alderaan. Alderaan is an imperial ally and you were a noble there. It’s not unusual for them to offer you shelter as an imperial wife. You and your son would be safe. You could go back to Princess Leia and live there.”
Leia. You haven’t heard that name in a while. You aren’t sure you’d like her to see you now. Your old friend was a firebrand never giving up and never surrendering. If she could see you now, you’re not sure she’d forgive you for giving in.
“You could also stay in Lothal. The people of Lothal know you aren’t to blame. They feel terrible for what you endured. Your story convinced a lot of people to join the rebellion and fight against the empire. You and your son would be safe here,” Hera continues after a brief pause.
You remain quiet.
“Sabine offered Mandalore. Her family can offer you asylum. Your surrender saved her life. She can find you a safe place in Mandalore away from the civil war. Bo-Katan Kryse herself would grant you shelter if Sabine asked,” Hera suggests.
You dismiss the notion immediately. The last thing you want is to go to another planet torn by war. Theon deserves to grow somewhere safe.
Finally, Hera finishes.
“Kallus offered to take you with him. He and Zeb are going to Lira San. It’s the home planet of Lasats. What’s left of their species has returned home and is prospering there. It’s safe and away from the empire. Kallus can take you there to help you with Theon. He said you’re a friend.”
Lira San. You think you’ve heard of it briefly in your studies in Alderaan. Wasn’t it supposed to be a myth? The notion that it was found is intriguing, and Alex would keep you safe.
But you can’t go. Not in your condition. You pull your hand free from Hera and close your eyes.
“I can’t.”
It’s a quiet admission that confuses her. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t realize how your world is slowly falling apart. How you’ve been a ghost flickering through life these past 2 years and how nothing really makes sense.
You’ve forgotten who you used to be. You aren’t sure who you are now. You don’t even know if you can be someone again. You’ve forgotten how to be human.
Your life has changed again. The floor has fallen from under you. You are a traitor. An imperial collaborator in a planet recently freed from imperial control. The very people you were allied against now hold your life in their hands. The people of Lothal may call you a Loth cat, but you’d sooner call yourself a Loth rat.
And your family? Little Theon is all you have left. You need to protect him. His father isn’t here to protect you both anymore. That means you are on your own now for the first time in 2 years.
You feel trapped. You aren’t sure you can stomach any of this anymore. Abruptly, you spring to your feet. Your hands are shaking.
“Please leave,” you beg, “Let me think.”
You don’t wait for an answer. Even as she calls your name in concern, you ignore her and climb up the stairs towards Theon’s room.
He’s all you have left.
———————————————
To your surprise, it isn’t Hera who sits in the living room when you emerge back downstairs hours later. Hera has long since left agreeing to give you space. In her place is now the one person you’ve missed more than your husband.
Alexsandr Kallus stands up to greet you. A look of immense relief spreads through his face when you appear. He meets you half way and throws his arms around you.
You bury yourself in his embrace. He looks different now. His hair is different and there’s less conflict within him. He looks at peace for the first time in months. You like it. Freedom suits him.
He breathes out your name quietly in your hair. You close your eyes as tears threaten to escape. It’s tempting to suppress them, but you decide to let go anyway. Thrawn hated you expressing emotion, but you don’t think Alex would mind.
He doesn’t seem to. He lets you cry and you think you feel him tremble too. You swear you hear his own stuttered breaths as he holds you tightly.
Alex was a constant in your life. The only one who treated you kindly without expecting anything in return. He often defended you from everyone else and was there for you when you felt you would break.
Even now it seems he is holding you up. You aren’t sure how long you stay in his embrace, but eventually you find the strength to withdraw. His fingers gently wipe the tears still left on your face. You note that his own eyes are red.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, “I should have done more. I should have stopped it. Stopped him.”
You shake your head.
You can still remember the day the rumors began that Thrawn was keeping you as a conquest. You were sure you had seen Alex flinch the day after you had emerged from Thrawn’s chambers covered in bruises and bites. You reckoned he felt guilty that he hadn’t done more to stop it.
But you don’t want him to feel guilty, and you tell him as much.
The two of you sit by the window where the moons of Lothal are shining brightly. The moons have always made you smile. They remind you of Alex. Isn’t that what his code phrase had been? ”By the light of Lothal’s moons.”
It’s fitting for Alex. He always seemed to be a light in the darkness for you. The only friend you had who never mistreated you in your time on Lothal.
“Hera said you don’t know what to do,” Alex murmurs briefly. He’s holding your hand above the table the way he always did when you needed comfort. It’s a touch you missed.
You sigh quietly to yourself. Your head feels a mess and the road ahead seems so confusing. That’s another thing you’d miss about Thrawn. Thrawn gave orders and expected you to follow. You were obedient and that was easier than being free. You aren’t quite sure now what to do. The ability to decide for yourself is a dizzying feeling you haven’t experienced in a long, long time.
You shake your head quietly.
You wonder briefly what the others think of you. Do they pity you and see you as broken? They’d be partly right. Do they hate you and see you as a traitor? They’d also be partly right. Or do they see you with frustration? Someone freed who should know what to do the moment the chains fall away yet can’t seem to enjoy the feeling of the leash releasing. You reckon those people would also be partly right.
Any other prisoner of war would have ran the moment the cell door clanged open. You haven’t. You don’t think you remember how to be anything other than a prisoner. Somewhere along the way, you’ve lost yourself. The empire took a lot of things from you, yet perhaps that loss was the greatest of all.
You wish you could verbalize it. Put it into words in a way that would make sense to Hera and Mon Mothma and Bail Organa. A way for them to realize why it is that you stand at the precipice of freedom but can’t quite seem to let go. Maybe words could help them understand you-
But you don’t think you need to with Alex.
He’s always known just what you mean with a glance. You’ve always suspected it was because he was like you. Once loyal to the empire when his heart lied with the rebellion. Thrawn said he had the heart of a rebel and he was right. He had meant it as an insult then, but you think it was perhaps the greatest compliment he could have given Alex. His rebel heart is a steady, strong pulse. You envy it.
“What do you want to do?” Alex asks.
That’s a question you haven’t heard in years. It takes your breath away momentarily.
The empire hadn’t asked it when you were captured. Thrawn hadn’t asked it when he claimed you. Hera hadn’t even asked it when she presented you your options. No one had asked it in a very long time.
You take your time puzzling the answer. It’s an important choice that will set the course of your life. It merits plenty of thinking and strategy. It’s a long time before you speak.
“I want to get away.”
It’s such a simple answer when you finally verbalize it. You’re almost embarrassed it took you so long to realize.
You hate this manor. It’s a cold empty shell with nothing but the beauty of its relics to make it seem important. It feels so cold and uninhabitable. You’ve hated it since the moment Thrawn brought you here. Every inch of it is a memory of what you’ve endured. If you had a match and some fuel, you think you’d love to set it ablaze and watch it all burn.
Alex doesn’t hesitate.
“Then let’s go. Anywhere.”
He means to go with you, you realize. It’s a relief to hear him say it. You’ll have him at your side wherever you choose. You don’t think you deserve him.
It’s so tempting to take his hand and run away, but then the rest of your worries rear their heads. You remember the condition you find yourself in and feel some panic. It crawls along your skin and chokes you worse than the damned collar Pryce tied you to in that cell ever did.
“I can’t.”
You close your eyes to avoid seeing Alex’s disappointed face. He hesitates.
“Why?” He asks it so gently that you break.
You take his hand and move it to your womb. His touch is soft. It takes him moments to register what you are saying.
You found out a few days after Thrawn had left to go see the emperor. It wasn’t planned. The prospect of it now is terrifying.
Whatever child you will have, you are not sure you are ready to raise it on your own. Maker, your children will be hybrids of a species you don’t understand. You know nothing about how to raise them. Thrawn named Theon. He gave him a Chiss name and had plans for his upbringing to preserve his culture. You have no clue how to name another child. You don’t speak Thrawn’s language. You are ill prepared to go at it alone. The fear of it all keeps you rooted to your spot unable to seek freedom.
“It’s going to be okay,” Alex reassures, “You’ll be okay.”
He keeps his hand over yours gently. His touch is what keeps you from spiraling further. You close your eyes.
“I don’t even know what to name it,” you breathe out, “Thrawn picked out the names.”
Thrawn picked out everything. He chose what you wore and what you ate. He managed everything down to the last detail. You don’t know if you’re still capable of all those things. Freedom feels like a noose.
Alex doesn’t give up. He’s always been the one to talk you down from the edge. You’ve always wondered how it is that he knows exactly what to do to calm you down.
“Well what do you want?”
There is that question again. You ponder on it.
You want to get away from Lothal. Perhaps one day you’ll return and work on its efforts to readjust after empire rule, but that won’t be today. You want to go see Lira San and experience the mythical planet for yourself. You want to stay with Alex as one of the few people in the world you can genuinely trust. You also want Theon and your future child to live free and safe. You want all those things and more.
“I want to keep them,” you murmur. He nods.
“Then name them yourself. You don’t need him to do it for you. What name do you like?”
You ponder on that again.
You like Mikhal for a boy. It was your father’s name. He went by Miki sometimes. You think you could name them that. You also like Vanness for a girl. Your mother and father passed already honoring them seems like a fitting tribute. You could also use Alex as a gender neutral name. It’s a name with a lot of significance to you too although you’re too embarrassed to tell Alex that.
Thrawn would hate the names. They’re too core and not Chiss. He’d never let you use them, but he isn’t here now to stop you. The control he has on you is gone. For the first time in a long time, you’re finally allowed to decide on something for yourself.
So you tell him the names minus the last one. Explain their significance. He squeezes your hand and says he likes them too. It’s a relief to find someone who actually views you as an equal. You’ve been so used to being beneath someone that you forgot you were also a living being. You think you’ll like coming back to life after years of existing as a specter.
Finally Alex stands.
“You get to pick what happens now,” he looks serious, “Hera won’t force you into anything. I will support whatever you choose.”
You think of Theon and the child you’ll have now. They need a safe place to grow. That isn’t Lothal or Mandalore. Lothal is under threat of empire invasion to reclaim what was lost and Mandalore is under civil war. It’s not safe.
You think of Alderaan. Your parents are both gone, so there’s not much tying you down to it. You’ll also think it’ll hurt too much to live there with the memories of a girl you used to be who no longer exists. The little noble who left Alderaan to see the world never imagined the world could be so cruel. She forgot the most important lesson of all. She forgot that they hurt little girls everywhere-on every planet. Perhaps if she had remembered, she wouldn’t have ended up in someone’s cage. So you cross that name off your list with a feeling of loss, mourning the naive child that died so you could take her place.
That leaves one option. Lira San. Alex wants to go there. He’s told you about the guilt of what he did to the Lasats. If there truly is a world where the species is still thriving, he needs to see it for himself to assuage his guilt. You also want to see it too. It’ll be a fascinating study of culture and art. Despite everything that happened, Thrawn wasn’t able to rob you of that interest. That was the one thing he couldn’t take from you. It’ll also be a safe place for your children. The empire can’t reach it and the people are prospering.
There’s only one true option. It feels dizzying to be able to decide, but you think you can learn to like the feeling. It makes you feel alive.
So you stand with Alex and look out the window. You’ll miss the moons of Lothal. It’s perhaps the only thing you’ll miss on this planet.
“Lira San. It’s safer. Let’s go there,” you offer.
There isn’t an indication that you’ve made the right choice, you know. There seldom is in life. A lot of decisions aren’t followed by the sound of a buzzer or the sound of a bell, but you think you made the right one anyway. If for nothing else, it’s the right one for you. The first choice in a long time that you’ve been able to make for yourself. No one can rob you of that freedom now.
Alex smiles at you. It’s an innocent smile with no pain, malice, or manipulation behind it. You hope one day you can relearn to smile like that again.
“Then let’s go.”
The two of you pack quietly. You leave behind everything that has an imperial stamp or symbol. The suitcase isn’t very full by the time you close it, but that’s alright. You’d rather have few belongings than anything that reminds you of the empire.
Theon is with his nanny droid when you take him. Alex is the one to pick him up and it’s a surprise how easily Theon takes to him. Thrawn never held him, so he’s not used to a man picking him. Yet he leans into Alex like he can sense he’s someone safe to be around.
The nanny droid stares silently as you leave. Alex tells you the rebellion will check it to remove the tracker and the personality chip the empire no doubt implanted. That means that you’ll have to take Theon without it and wait some time to replace the droid. You don’t mind not having a nanny droid. You never really liked the old thing anyway. Thrawn had been the one to pick it out.
Finally the three of you abscond into the night. The manor door clangs shut behind you and you freeze. You half expect Rukh to fall out of the shadows and capture you, or perhaps some type of alarm to sound out. When nothing happens, you learn to breathe again.
It was all fear, you realize. All this time you were kept prisoner by the fear that had been planted in you by someone else. You make a vow then and there to never feel that way again.
The future is an uncertain haze. You should be nervous as Alex leads you to the speeder outside. It should be terrifying to face a world of possibilities where the path hasn’t been marked for you by someone else.
But it isn’t.
A strange feeling is slowly growing amidst the panic and pain. That little emotion marks the end of your captivity. It’s a tiny little bud now, but you think it could grow into something great some day.
It takes you a moment to place what that emotion is, but when you do, you feel a small sense of relief. That feeling is proof you haven’t been completely destroyed by what happened to you. That there’s still some humanity left in the empty shell you thought you had been reduced to.
Hope.
It’s hope, you realize, a powerful thing. It’s so strong that you understand now why the rebellion fought so hard to preserve it. That tiny little feeling is enough to restart your life again.
For the first time in a very long time, you finally feel hopeful, and that is enough to make you keep going.
I once said, and I quote: „I want to pull him by the mutton chops, tell him how ugly they are and then kiss him on the nose“ :) love this man
Mood. What a mood. Although, he somehow looks better, even with them, when he joined the rebels. Maybe it's because he joins the rebels that I'm willing to overlook how horrible they look.
Ugh, he just looks like he is hella soft and touch starved you know. Like he spent years as an Imperial and he doesn't know what it feels like to be caressed gently by someone and when he finally finds that special someone, he would be so reluctant to do literally anything but when he finally manages to trust them, he would want to touch them and be touched by them constantly.
And don't get me started on intimacy with this man. He is undoubtedly making sweet sweet love to you. I'm taking nuzzling into your neck as he moans how perfect you feel. Intertwining his hands with yours as he pushes slowly and deeply into you. Kissing the corner of your mouth as you call out his name. Groaning in pain when you flip him beneath you and ride him just as sweetly. Pushing his head back and growling in need when you stop and clench around his cock. Panting heavily when he meets your gaze and sees how wrecked you are, something mirroring his own desires. And fuck, when he finally comes, it's with your chests touching and your arms wrapped around his neck as he shoved his cock deeper into you, one arm holding your back closely to him while the other is around your neck to keep you near him so he can smell your hair.
Then it's cuddles.
Ughhhhhhhhhhh, yes. Soft boy for sure.
Until you convince him of something a little more different.
do you have any favorite anakin fics or just general star wars fics that you've read?
absolutely i can post some of my recommendations! it’s actually a bummer to me that Tumblr doesn’t have the bookmark feature like ao3, bc oftentimes i read something i like and then forget about it. these are just a few i remember off the top of my head.
also—i do occasionally read 18+ smutty fics, even though i don’t like to write them, so some on this list will be of that nature. funnily enough, though, i never read any Anakin smut. idk why. i can’t do it lol. it’s like…idk i am in love with him so i can’t read anything slightly sexual about him? who knows, man. so, sorry there isn’t more anakin stuff on this short lil list
Anakin & Obi Wan:
i love love love @stardust-kenobi’s “Reminiscence” series. very cute but also spicy and angsty
@meshlasolus’s “House of Memories” series is one of my current favs, and there’s a lot of it—if you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out (Obi-Wan)
@anatee has written some very cute Anakin content 💕
i follow @showxmethestars for their very very cute shorter form anakin x reader posts
i’ll just link this obi-wan smut here, by the lovely @im-poe-dameron. i went and found it for you bc i read it once and never forgot it lol it did things to me
Rebels characters:
@sith-lord has written some Kallus content, and I really really love Agent Kallus 🥰
also! @mrs-ben-kenobi writes for Kallus x Reader and I love it
@asterian also writes very well for both Kallus and Kanan, my favs
this is just what i could remember right now—if you’re not on this list but i follow you, feel free to message me and i’ll boost your fics!! bc i’m sure i followed bc i read and liked them haha. and if i don’t follow you, feel free to send me your fic! i always like recommendations. 😄
Alexsandr Kallus X Male Reader X Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Day 4: Audience- Alexsandr Kallus (Thrawn)
It was like any other night Kallus came back after a long mission. You knew you’d be meeting him later to welcome him properly. But, as always, he had to debrief.
This time, however, was taking exceptionally long. Thrawn only kept his officers if there was an emergency. If you had the clearance, you’d go see what was wrong, but your code cylinders barely granted you access to the break room with the good snack machines.
Instead you waited with an Ensign friend for yours at his station. He guessed it was just something to do with the Rebellion and there was nothing to worry about. You took his view to heart, trying not to think about anything bad happening to Kallus.
This was all foiled when the alarms went off. Your Ensign friend jumped to his position and you followed suit, even more worried now. It took you a few minutes to reach your station across the ship, but when you got there you finally saw Kallus. He was up on the command deck, speaking with Thrawn.
As much as you wanted to find out what was going on, the Empire didn’t take kindly to those that stepped out of line. You focused on your station in front of you, redirecting fuel lines to defensive positions.
The alarms continued to sound throughout the ship, and yet there was no sign of a threat. Thrawn and Kallus spoke in hushed tones and everyone worked hard at their stations. You thought it might be a false alarm until the ship shook, knocking a few people out of their stations.
An Admiral shouted an order to stay on task as everyone tried to stay upright. Kallus walked out of the bridge at a quick pace, giving you a curt nod on his way. From his pace you guessed whatever was going on was serious.
The sight of the famous Ghost ship flying past the windows of the bridge wasn’t something you thought you’d ever see. And, yet, there is was with twenty TIE Fighters close behind. The sudden appearance of Rebels put everyone on edge, their work now a secondary thought.
It took twenty minutes for the TIEs to chase the Rebel ship away. Thrawn kept everyone on alert for hours after everything died down. Even as you walked back to your quarters to collapse on your bed the ship remained on alert. That being said, even in your sleepy state, it was scary when someone pulled you into a room.
Kallus dragged you into the empty meeting room and pushed you down into the nearest chair. Once you caught sight of his familiar blond hair you put up no resistance.
“I have been waiting for this all week.” He rested his hands on the arms of your chair. “Days of chasing those pitiful Rebels,” His face lowered to hover in front of yours, not even an inch away from a kiss. “Finally.”
He moved in quickly, his lips moving hungrily to capture yours. His hand moved to rub you through your uniform pants as tongue began to explore your mouth. You let out a whine as he began to lightly squeeze at the growing bulge between your legs.
His response was lightning fast, separating from the kiss to focus on getting your pants off. He pulled them down in haste and let them fall around your ankles as he wrapped his lips around your hardened cock.
You hissed at the feeling of his mouth on you. Your hands gripped into his hair as he began to bob, setting a fast pace right away. You couldn’t help bucking your hips up to meet him as you chased your end. He moved his hands to pin you back down and hold you in place as he finished you off. Your cum spurted into Kallus’ mouth and he took every drop you gave him.
The ISB agent gave you a cocky smirk as he stood and brought you with him. He bent you over the meeting table and held you there, hand pushing your head down. The sound of his pants hitting the floor made your heart race with anticipation.
Kallus ground against your ass, his cock slipping between your legs and teasing you. His grip tightened and started to pull at your hair, just as you grew hard again.
“Alex, please!” You gasped.
“Hmm?” He asked.
“Come on, Alex, please get on with it!”
Kallus answered your plea with a swift motion, ramming into you without warning. You screamed out at the glorious mix of pain and pleasure. Kallus waited only a moment for you to adjust before setting a moderate pace.
Thrawn didn’t spend much of his time looking through security footage, but when he happened upon this he couldn’t look away. The first thing he caught sight of was your blissed out face as Agent Kallus blew you.
When he bent you over the table, Thrawn couldn’t help slipping a hand into his pants to relieve the tension. He waited patiently, hand only stroking softly, as Kallus got his pants off. He never thought he’d wish so much for the cameras to have sound when he saw that look on your face. Oh, to hear you begging to be fucked, a Grand Admiral could dream.
And when Kallus started actually fucking you, his hand couldn’t do enough. Kallus’ pace increased to a point that made Thrawn question if he was human. The hand on his cock made a feeble attempt to keep up and Thrawn had to reach down with his other hand to give some attention to his balls, trying to make up for the lack of speed.
Kallus thrusted into you again and again, keeping you pinned down against the table. His cock hitting that sweet spot every time and making you cry out his name. Thrawn came before he could stop himself. A soft grunt slipped out as he did, his gaze never leaving the sight of Kallus fucking you relentlessly.
He watched as you came, he could vaguely make out your lips mouthing ‘Alex’. Kallus, himself, seemed to cum just after you, his pace slowing to a stop as you both panted heavily. Thrawn’s hand had yet to leave his cock, in hopes that you and Kallus would have another round.
He was disappointed when Kallus pulled out and gave you a simple kiss on the cheek. The playful banter between the two of you as you got dressed made Thrawn wish he’d gone down there to see everything in person.
The Grand Admiral would definitely be checking the cameras more often.
Thank you you have blessed me with that Kallus content, may I ask what it would be like when he finds out the reader is pregnant or maybe some kallus and his kids headcanons?
My bOY yes of course
When you drop the news on him, there’s laughter, a bright look in his eyes as if you’d just accomplished something huge. He stands up and whirls you around in absolute joy, already going on about names and deciding which room to begin decorating and all of the things he has to get ready for.
The anxiety only settles in after the initial excitement high, finally having that moment where he realises the youngest child he’s ever interacted with was Ezra, who was functionally an adult by the time they spoke more than a few sentences at each other.
Then, you can find him pacing, mumbling to himself about how he’s going to end up losing the kid or forget to feed it or just all around suck at parenting. He kicks himself for not having thought of all of this sooner, and lays his head in defeat in your lap, his muffled voice only barely audible enough for you to hear, “I’m a failure already.”
The reality, though, is that... he’s actually pretty good.
He has a strict schedule that he adheres to when it comes to feeding, playing, etc. He has alarms set for it all. It’s... ridiculous.
And he’s one of those parents that tries to get the child to learn the alphabet when they can barely keep their head up by themselves. He has flashcards and everything, designed to get them started early. He gave up after about a week.
And when they’re still a baby, he has them laying on the bed with him an napping, or simply looking around the room, and he’s on his side with his head propped on his fist right at their side. He pokes their squishy cheek every so often.
It’s his way of considering how real it all is, how he actually has a family... when only a few years ago he’d felt trapped in a monotonous nothingness that still often haunts him in ways not many understand. And when the baby laughs when he touches them again, he finds himself grateful for each and every choice he’s made.
Once they grow older, when they run around and play with him every opportunity they can get, you all discover that he’s actually fun.
He’s the outdoorsy sort of dad, hiking and exploring, and being able to tell you a species of tree with just a glance. He never got the chance to enjoy things like that before, and he’s taking full advantage of it now. But... his camping is just a bit more high tech than what others would like. Yes, the mini-fridge was absolutely a necessity!
Once you have a gaggle of children, they all develop a pack-mentality that involves piling on him when he comes home from whatever work he had to do, until Alex sends them back in to see who can hug you the fastest. Great for wearing them out.
The one and only thing they’re barred from is the rebellion. No matter how strong his beliefs are, he will never let them get involved. He’s way too knowledgeable about the empire to take that risk, and he would lose himself if anything were to happen to them. He’d much rather be the one to take all the risks for the family’s sake, and know that they’re safe.
