39 BBY
Being the eldest daughter from a minor noble family on the Outer Rim, Athemeene had been raised with the terrible burden of knowing the exact course of her life from a young age. Ever since she was eleven and her mother gave her "The Talk'' she knew everything would end in marriage to someone of her father's choosing.
If possible he would choose a good man for her, someone he could trust to be kind to her, but in the end his desire for her to be safe and happy would be weighed against the potential benefits any partner could bring. A husband could be influential and awful, and if her father weighed the former more important than the latter he wouldn't be the one who had to live with the consequences.
Like any girl from the Outer Rim, she'd always dreamed of Coruscant. The silver center of the republic, the beating heart of the galaxy; the glitz, the glamor, the place where people mattered. All the holovids she watched as a child were produced there, all the songs she listened to, all the flimsy rags she had read. Athemeene had wanted to go there so badly for so long.
Well, that dream had died when she was married to a sixty year old former jedi. A few months before the wedding her father and mother had brought her into the family parlor and locked the door, before breaking the news to her as gently as they could. Count Dooku was in charge of the family now, and he would need an heir and a spare at the very least.
It was a great chance for the Raxus Serennos to rise among the wider House Serenno, and the new Count was a former jedi with a stellar record and a lot of influence on Coruscant. Didn't she love Coruscant? So they'd have lots to talk about. Of course she would be taken care of, and even get to live in the Serenno Palace! Wouldn't that be nice? Wouldn't it?
The wedding had been a large affair, despite how quickly it was arranged. Almost the entire extended Serenno family had come for the ceremony, all aunts, uncles and cousins, barons and lesser counts from Antar, Kooriva, Murkhana and other places she'd barely heard of. That wasn't surprising.
What really shocked her was seeing some truly powerful men mingling among the guests, figures like the Duke of Raxus himself, the insectoid Archduke of Geonosis, senators from the Republic and even the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order! Athemeene even recognised some more infamous figures, like the Viceroy of the Trade Federation, a man named Gaton Vizla who wore polished armor and insisted his rightful title was Mand'alor, and a tattooed Hutt named Sleheyron.
Whatever Athemeene had wanted, her marriage had become a subject of galactic diplomacy, drawing eyes from as far as away as Coruscant, and with many of the most powerful figures of the entire Outer Rim arriving in person.
At least she had been dressed for the occasion.
Her first impression of the Count had been… much better than the expectations she had set. Despite his age he was still tastefully handsome. Regal, tall, with a proud bearing and clear, calm brown eyes.
It was only as she was standing with him at the altar, waiting to exchange vows that she realized he was hardly paying attention to her. As they were there, together, at her actual wedding, with all the most powerful men in the galaxy watching them exchange vows, his mind was somewhere else.
It was more of a disappointment to her than she could have expected. To Athemeene, her marriage to Dooku was a terrifying, unavoidable event that would completely change her life forever; in contrast he barely thought of her at all.
After the reception they flew away together in Dooku's personal ship, the Count hardly even glancing at her. Sitting there with his head held high, a silver chain holding his cloak to his back and the natural imperiousness of his presence, for the first time in her life Athemeene felt utterly dwarfed by someone.
She had been nervous about when they would lay together for the first time. Athemeene had given away her maidenhood in secret years ago in a fling with a household guard, who was quietly let go when her parents found out. If the Count was surprised by her lack of virginity or even cared, Athemeene didn't know. What she did know was that of the two, the Count was by far the better lover.
The feelings of that night were indescribable. Despite barely knowing each other, the Count seemed to understand exactly what she wanted and when, he left her breathless and shuddering. Some kind of energy was flowing between them, that was the only way Athemeene could conceive of it.
There was a primal, ancient binding that connected them, and a potent crackling of something in the air. For those hours it felt like the entire galaxy hinged on this moment, that the two of them were crafting the future right then and there. At the end of it, Athemeene just… knew that the efforts were not for nought, with no further tries needed.
As she lay next to him, his large hands cradling her protectively she found herself unafraid of him for the first time. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage could work.
Then morning had come and the Count was gone. By the time she saw him again he was as cold, aloof and distant as he'd seemed before. He strode through the halls of his palace, not seeming to notice Athemeene was there. All they ever talked about was their schedules, and when it would be a good time for them to sleep together once more. Otherwise he offered her a personal budget, gave her permission to travel freely, and ignored her.
Those nine months were incredibly lonely, sometimes she wondered if anyone would even notice if she died. The empty halls of the Serenno palace were populated only by basic service droids, who rushed about their assigned duties with only the occasional beep of communication. In the face of boredom and isolation, Athemeene spent her time calling her family, getting to know her new homeworld and reading up for her impending motherhood.
Once her pregnancy started to show, even sex with the Count stopped. The Holocalls to her family became an almost daily occurrence, until she started to hear the annoyance in her parents and siblings voices and Athemeene decided to stop bothering them so much.
Her journey's across the planet became an excuse just to spend time with anyone, even a stranger who just happened to be offering museum tours. Athemeene spent much of her personal budget on pointless things like old artifacts and handmade wood carvings.
She even spent a day at a boutique blaster range just so the salesmen would spend time with her. A whole array of hobbies were picked up and dropped, from flower arranging and tea ceremonies to handicrafts and cooking.
Eventually the only thing she still felt truly connected to was her unborn child. Feeling the baby kick and squirm inside her became her greatest comfort. When time came for the delivery, Athemeene was frightened, but also excited.
She had been preparing for it for a long time, feverishly reading guides to motherhood that contained all sorts of scientific language describing the stages of development, dietary and psychological needs, recommended practices and more.
One thing that her reading made clear was the absolute importance of both parents to a child. Without a father and a mother actively involved in their life, growing children faced a wide array of social and emotional problems, and even scored lower on average in tests related to mathematics.
Almost any behavioral illness you could think of, from violence, to spice abuse, to thrill seeking and other forms of self harm, the common thread that linked many of them was the absence of a father, or a mother, or both. For her new baby to grow correctly, Athemeene would need Dooku.
The birth went exactly as she expected. The nurse droid that Dooku had purchased solely for this moment was well up to the task. The whole process lasted from late in the afternoon until just before midnight.
Athemeene strained, and groaned, and resented that her husband wasn't here to help her, but in the end her baby girl was born in good health. The nurse droid cut the umbilical cord, and Athemeene held her child for the first time, while the machine wheeled away to inform the Count of the good news.
Athemeene's girl was small, and wrinkled. The birthing fluids had dyed her skin a strange color, and she looked up at her mother with cloudy blue eyes before scrunching them shut again and beginning to wail. Athemeene had managed to shush her daughter by the time her husband arrived.
Whatever expression she had expected to see, Athemeene wasn't prepared for the sadness in the Count's gaze as he looked upon his daughter. "Well done, now our line is secure."
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