The cliff's edge overlooked Dathomir's crimson wastes, where twisted spires of stone rose from the dust like the bones of dead gods. Asajj stood at the precipice, close enough that one strong gust could send her tumbling. She didn't care. The wind whipped around her, pulling at her clothes, and she welcomed the discomfort.
Her arms crossed tight over her chest, fingernails digging into her biceps hard enough to draw blood. The pain helped. Grounded her. Kept the other pain—the worse pain, the kind that had no physical source—at bay.
She wasn't crying.
She wouldn't cry.
Crying was weakness, and Asajj Ventress had abandoned weakness years ago when Ky Narec's blood soaked into Rattatak's dust.
But the words kept echoing in her skull regardless, sharp and cruel and perfectly aimed: "I can't imagine why your mother would give you up."
Footsteps.
Asajj's entire body went rigid. She spun, hand dropping to her lightsaber, and found Wanda Maximoff approaching across the rocky ground. The witch's expression was carefully neutral, but her hands were raised slightly—not threatening, just visible. A peace gesture.
It didn't matter.
Asajj lunged.
She closed the distance in two strides, grabbed Wanda's collar, and shoved her backward until the witch's heels hung over empty air. Scarlet energy crackled between them, but Wanda didn't unleash it, didn't fight back.
"What do you want?" Asajj's voice came out somewhere between a snarl and a sob. "You'd better turn around and leave. Now. Before I throw you off this cliff and see if your magic can fly."
Wanda met her gaze without flinching. "I'm here to apologize."
"Apologize." Asajj laughed, the sound brittle and broken. "That's it? Great. Apology noted. Now leave."
She released Wanda's collar, turned her back dismissively.
"No."
Asajj froze. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder. "What did you say?"
"I said no." Wanda took a breath, visibly steeling herself. "I came here to apologize properly. Not just say the words and walk away. So you're going to listen."
"Or what?" Asajj's hand went to her lightsaber again.
"Or nothing." Wanda's hands stayed at her sides. "You want to fight me? Fine. But it won't change what I said. It won't make it unhappen. And it won't make either of us feel better."
The truth of that stung worse than any insult. Asajj's fingers tightened on her lightsaber hilt, but she didn't ignite it. "Talk fast."
Wanda nodded. She looked uncomfortable, which gave Asajj a small, petty sense of satisfaction. Good. Let her squirm.
"I don't trust you," Wanda said bluntly. "I don't like you. You've fought my friends, hurt people I care about, nearly killed my brother. None of that changes just because we're standing on the same planet."
"Wonderful apology so far."
"I'm not finished." Wanda's jaw set. "But I also know that I lost control. What I said about your mother—that was cruel. It was designed to hurt you in the worst way possible, and I knew it when I said it." She paused. "That makes me an asshole. And I'm sorry."
Asajj turned fully now, arms still crossed, expression guarded. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why apologize?" Asajj tilted her head. "You clearly meant it. I could feel the intent behind the words. So why come here and pretend you regret it?"
"Because—" Wanda stopped, frustration flashing across her face. "Because Illyana and Merlin asked me to try. To be better. To not fight with their cousin." She met Asajj's eyes. "And because your mother was my friend."
The world tilted.
Asajj felt her breath catch, her chest tighten. "What?"
"Ilsigi." Wanda's voice softened. "She and Merlin's mother, Tina, took care of me when I first arrived on Dathomir. I was... not in a good place. Lost. Barely holding myself together. They helped me. Taught me. Gave me purpose again."
She looked away, toward the crimson horizon. "So using her memory as a weapon against you? That's not just cruel. It's disrespectful to someone who showed me kindness when I desperately needed it. And I'm sorry for that."
Asajj couldn't speak. Couldn't process. Her mother—Ilsigi—had been friends with this woman? Had taken care of her? The revelation twisted something fundamental in Asajj's understanding of the situation.
"Were you there?" The question came out hoarse. "When she died?"
"No." Wanda's expression tightened with something that looked like guilt. "But Illyana was. Your mother was one of many Nightsisters taken by someone named Zalem. A dark witch who'd left Dathomir decades ago and came back with... bad intentions."
"What happened?" Asajj's voice had gone flat, empty. Shock, perhaps. Or the emotional equivalent of bleeding out.
"It's a long story."
Asajj gestured sharply at the empty cliff. "We've got time."
Wanda hesitated, then nodded. She moved to a flat boulder near the cliff's edge and sat, leaving space for Asajj. After a moment, Asajj joined her, maintaining careful distance.
"A few weeks ago," Wanda began, "a group led by Zalem invaded Dathomir. She'd left the clans years before—cast out, I think, for studying forbidden magicks. When she returned, she came with mercenaries, dark side artifacts, and a plan to forcibly drain the Nightsisters' power."
Asajj listened, silent.
"She kidnapped dozens of Nightsister Held them in a ritual circle, siphoning their life force to amplify her own abilities. Ilsigi was one of the first taken—she fought back when Zalem's forces attacked the village. Fought hard. But there were too many."
Wanda's hands clenched in her lap. "Tina, Merlin's mother, was taken too. When we realized what was happening, I gathered everyone who could fight. We stormed Zalem's stronghold—an old Nightsister temple she'd converted into a fortress."
"And?" Asajj's voice barely qualified as a whisper.
"We were too late for some." Wanda's eyes glistened. "By the time we broke through, Zalem had already drained several Nightsister completely. Their bodies were... empty husks. Ilsigi was among them."
The words landed like physical blows. Asajj felt each one impact, felt pieces of herself crack and splinter.
"Tina survived," Wanda continued quietly. "Barely. She held on long enough to see Merlin one more time. Then she... let go." A tear tracked down Wanda's cheek. She wiped it away roughly. "I tried to save them. Used everything I had. But some wounds go too deep, even for my magic."
"What happened to Zalem?" Asajj's voice had gone cold. The grief was still there, massive and overwhelming, but fury rose alongside it, giving her something to focus on besides the pain.
"I stripped her power." Wanda's eyes glowed faintly scarlet at the memory. "Tore it out of her, piece by piece. Reduced her from one of the most dangerous dark witches I'd ever faced to just... a woman. Powerless. Broken."
"And then?"
"Her daughter killed her." Wanda's expression held no sympathy. "Rose Lai. Zalem's heir. She executed her own mother for what she'd done to the clans. Mother Talzin approved it."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken grief. The wind howled across the cliff face, carrying red dust that settled on their clothes, their skin, their hair.
"If I'd come back sooner," Asajj said finally, voice cracking, "even a month earlier... I could have stopped it. Could have saved her. Could have—"
"No." Wanda's interruption was gentle but firm. "You couldn't have. None of us could. Zalem had been planning this for years. She had artifacts, mercenaries, preparation. Even with you here, the outcome might have been the same."
"You don't know that."
"You're right. I don't." Wanda turned to look at her. "But I do know that blaming yourself for not preventing something you didn't know about is a waste of energy. Trust me. I'm an expert at pointless self-recrimination."
Asajj wanted to argue. Wanted to insist that she could have made a difference, that her absence was the real betrayal. But the words stuck in her throat, because deep down, she knew Wanda was right.
She hadn't known. Hadn't been here. Had been too busy serving Dooku, fighting the Republic, drowning in the dark side's endless demands.
And now her mother was dead.
"I never got to know her," Asajj said, the admission feeling like pulling out her own teeth. "Just that one memory. Her face. Her smile. Then nothing."
"She talked about you sometimes." Wanda's voice was soft. "Wondered where you were. Hoped you were alive. Safe. Happy, if that was possible." A pause. "She knew what you'd become. The Nightsisters have ways of learning things. But she loved you anyway. Never stopped."
That broke something inside Asajj. She felt the fracture, felt grief and rage and decades of abandonment issues crack her open like an egg. Her hands shook. Her breathing came ragged.
She still didn't cry. But it was close.
"Why?" The question came out broken. "Why did she give me up? If she loved me, why send me away?"
"To protect you." Wanda looked away again. "From what, I don't know. That secret died with her. But Illyana remembers your mother talking about it once—said there was someone hunting for something on Dathomir. Someone powerful. Dangerous. The clans sent you away to keep you safe from whatever it was."
"It didn't work." Asajj laughed bitterly. "I ended up a slave anyway. Then a Padawan. Then a Sith acolyte. Safe wasn't really in the cards for me."
"No. It wasn't." Wanda's agreement held no platitudes, no false comfort. Just acknowledgment.
They sat in silence for a while. The twin suns tracked slowly across the crimson sky, painting long shadows across the rocky ground.
"I should have come back sooner," Asajj said finally. "Not for Zalem. Just... to see her. To know her. Even once."
"Yeah." Wanda's voice was thick. "You should have. But you didn't. And now you have to live with that, same as I have to live with not being fast enough to save her." She turned to meet Asajj's eyes. "Welcome to the guilt club. Membership is permanent and the meetings never end."
Asajj almost smiled. Almost. "You're terrible at comfort."
"I know." Wanda stood, brushing red dust from her pants. "But I meant what I said. I'm sorry. For what I said about your mother. For using your pain as a weapon. That was beneath me."
"It was." Asajj stood as well. "But I've done worse. To people who deserved it less."
"That's not exactly absolution."
"No. But it's acknowledgment." Asajj looked at Wanda—really looked, seeing past the enemy, the Avenger, the outsider. Seeing just another woman who'd lost too much and survived anyway. "Your apology is... accepted."
Wanda blinked, surprise clear on her face. "Really?"
"Don't make me regret it."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Wanda turned to go, then paused. "For what it's worth? Your mother would be glad you came home. Even if it was too late."
Then she walked away, leaving Asajj alone with her grief and the crimson wind.
Asajj stood there for a long time, staring out at Dathomir's twisted landscape. Her mind churned with everything Wanda had told her. Zalem. The kidnappings. Her mother's death. The fact that Ilsigi had spoken about her, thought about her, loved her despite decades of separation.
Dooku's betrayal felt small by comparison. The Sith, the Separatists, the endless war—all of it seemed distant now, irrelevant.
Her master had abandoned her. Mother Talzin advised patience, strategy, planning before revenge. And maybe they were right. Maybe rushing off to kill Dooku would only get her killed. The dark acolytes. The Separatist military. Sidious himself.
Any one of them could end her if she wasn't careful.
The fear settled over her like a shroud. She'd been so focused on rage that she hadn't stopped to consider consequences. To think strategically. To plan.
Ky Narec would have been ashamed of such recklessness.
Asajj closed her eyes, breathing in Dathomir's dust-laden air, and tried to center herself the way her first master had taught her.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the footsteps approaching until they were very close.
Her eyes snapped open. Her hand went to her lightsaber.
And she turned to face whoever had come to disturb her solitude.