And they had chosen to join with their distant relations. They were now part of the Web of family.
As was the Jedi Mace Windu. His story was theirs, just as her heart was his.
Not all threads are easily severed. A Syblin child said, “Tell us the story again.”
A young Sa’ad beside her added, “Yes! It is…” She searched for the right term. “It’s sync.”
KinShan tried not to flinch. Along with his song, with which he’d bonded to the Hillian with the white and silver rings, Mace had also taught her some new galactic slang terms. She’d pretended more disapproval than she felt.
“The story,” KinShan said.
Mother Web said, Tell them. As I weave.
“Once there was a wounded world, a land of crystalline wonder. A land balanced on the edge of disaster. But Spinners never despaired, knowing that all existence is connected through the Web. And that one day, a warrior would come, the fiercest in the galaxy. Drawn by duty, but bound by love.”
“For you!”
“For us.”
And for you, my child. Do not steal from your own heart.
“For me.”
KinShan smiled, filled with a strange contentment, as Mother Web wove. Mace Windu, a thread from another, wider Web, knotted with her. Their lives linked, always.
And no one had noticed that of the hundred threads she had entwined into the necklace she had given Mace Windu, a dozen remained uncut. This was just a little gift to her own heart, a hope that somehow, in some way, the Web would be kind and her love might one day return.
But if he did not…what a time they had had.
What a wonderful, wonderful time.