Disclaimer: All characters below are property of George Lucas and LFL. I am merely playing with them briefly.
A/N: This story was written for a dear friend, whose husband died unexpectedly a few months back.
Grief Counseling
The rebels on Yavin celebrated, despite the boxes they packed and the dead they mourned. Watching that gray orb of death explode into a billion pieces, thanks to the new kid named Skywalker, had been a victory for morale and for the Rebellion. Some of these people had been fighting for twenty years, some only for a few months, but everyone knew how important the victory was, how crucial to the cause.
Leia Organa, former Princess of Alderaan, had changed after the awards ceremony into a more practical, but still-regal, white flight suit. She had pitched in with the mechanics and anyone else who looked like they needed a hand, sometimes pointing people in the right direction, other times hauling heavy pieces of machinery to a transport.
Now, though, she was hidden, in a tiny room that may have been a chapel at some point. Three rows of stone benches on either side of a narrow aisle faced a large stone slab with the picture of the sun on it. A primitive, but understandable, god, Leia thought.
Leia didn't have a religion, per se. Alderaanian culture focused on service towards others, the common good. Some of the older nobles believed in a divine being, and there were brief whispers of the Force, which Leia wanted to dismiss but had a hard time doing.
But after everything she had been through in the past few weeks, she needed some faith. Faith that her mother and father, friends, and pets were in a better place than the war-ridden galaxy that had caused their untimely deaths. She wondered if her father could see her now, sitting on a celebrating planet, the pieces of their victory burning up around them through the atmosphere.
"You brought us this, Father," Leia whispered to the altar, feeling her cheeks suddenly wet. "If not for your association with General Kenobi, we never would have found Luke Skywalker. This boy saved us…boy, he and I are the same age. You would like him, I think."
There was a cough behind her, and Leia wiped the tears away before turning around. Luke Skywalker leaned against the doorway, doing what she presumed was an imitation of their other companion, Han Solo. Luke looked uncomfortable, his arms across his chest, and his smile was forced, a little unsure. She nodded and he entered the chapel to sit down beside her.
"I don't know who to pray to," he said. "Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru...Obi-Wan, Biggs…they're all gone. I don't have anything left." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Except the Rebellion…and you."
It was Leia's turn to cough. "Well, I was going to say…you have R2-D2, as well. I mean, if you want him. He never seemed to like me very much; always did his job, but not like 3PO. Maybe with you he'll be happier."
Luke's smile returned, more comfortable this time. "You think of droids like that to—how they're 'feeling' if they're 'happy'? I thought I was the only one…"
Leia shook her head. "My father thought it was a little strange too, but my mother said it was in the genes."
He cocked his head to the side. "She talked to droids too?"
"No not her, my…my real mother. I was adopted." She lowered her brown eyes. "I don't know why I just told you that; I don't think I ever told my parents I knew." She shook her head. "I don't like to talk about it."
Luke slipped a tentative arm around her shoulder. "It's okay. Why don't you tell me about Alderaan? It sounds like a really nice place."