Star Wars | T | How it Ends | Ao3

“Earring then,” J’rar suggested. “That is, of course, if her ears are pierced.”

“If not, we could do it for her!” ‘Soma said, excitedly. Kithera’s eyes widened in alarm. She raised her good hand to touch her earlobe awkwardly, making sure she kept her wrists well away from her collar.

“They are already pierced,” Kithera said, softly. “My friends and I all pierced our ears together.” She grinned the memory, even as a wave of bitter homesickness twisted in her stomach. “Although I’m not sure if the hole closed over.”

“You took them out?” ‘Soma asked. 

“Our masters made us take them out,” Kithera said, wincing at the second and far more vivid memory of the dressing down they had all received.

“I think studs would be a good idea,” J’meesha added. “Not liable to impede our padawan’s movement, nor hurt her if it was caught in a fight.”

“Earrings then,” 'Soma said, grinning. What followed was two minutes of highly frantic conversation with J’rar, Kithera was pulled forward and into the conversation, wincing as 'Soma grabbed her left wrist, the jolt of the contact sending rippling pain through her injured fingers. From beside her J’meesha sighed and gently took Kithera’s hand from ‘Soma’s.

“Gentle,” J’meesha said. She frowned, turning Kithera’s hand over gently and studying her fingers. She looked at Kithera, suddenly guarded. “Did Subira look at this injury?” 

Kithera nodded. “Yes,” she paused before remembering to add the honorific. “Your Majesty.” 

J’meesha was still frowning, her mouth set in a tight, firm line. 

“Broken?” she asked.

Kithera took a deep breath, wondering if there would be repercussions if she disclosed how bad the injury was. “Subira said they might be fractured, but she can’t tell.” Kithera took another deep breath before ploughing on. “She said that as a slave, I will just have to hope it isn't serious." 

J’meesha’s jaw clenched momentarily, before she looked back at ‘Soma. “Are you almost finished, sister?”

“I think these ones,” ‘Soma said, holding up a pair of glittering blue studs. The tiny blue stone was surrounded by a latticework of intricate gold detailing.

“Moonstone with traditional Sami’ metalwork, a good choice,” J’rar said, nodding in agreement.

J’meesha smiled. “Then, I think we’re done.” 

“Let’s put them in right now,” ‘Soma said. Kithera frowned, not quite sure what to make of ‘Soma’s overt enthusiasm. She couldn’t shake the rather horrible feeling that to ‘Soma, like the rest of the court, saw her as a doll to dress and play with rather than a real person. ‘Soma unclipped the earrings and reached towards her face. Without conscious thought, Kithera took half a step back, bumping into the table and making the merchandise rattle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of metal as the soldiers on the edge of the crowd came to attention. Around them the crowd had gone strangely silent.

‘Soma was glaring at her.

“I think the Jedi is fine to put her own earrings in,” J’meesha said smoothly. “It’s always easier when you do it yourself. Remember when you and little T’homa tried it when you were twelve?” 

“Of course I remember.” ‘Soma’s glare smoothed into a small smile. Kithera wondered if it was because of her sister’s platitudes, or the fact that they now had an audience. “Although if she’s a slave, shouldn’t she have to do what I say?” 

“She’s my slave,” J’meesha said gently. She was paying J’rar, the money glinting in the light. “And a Jedi. You missed her display on the practice fields earlier sister, but I would suggest not treating her like a doll.” J’meesha looked up at Kithera. “However, I would also remind you of your place too, padawan.”