Ben Solo was five years old when he first asked his mother about his grandparents.
The knock on the door was sharp and hollow, like metal on metal in the night. Leia Organa let out a sigh and set her datapad aside.
What is it, Threepio?"
But when the doors opened, it was her son who stood there, holding some kind of metal toy. A tool, more likely, something Han had given him, however many months ago he'd been here last.
Don't think about that. Don't think about him. Leia forced her face into a smile.
"Mommy?"
"Ben, it's past your bedtime." Above the datapad, a holographic map of a contested supply route flickered and spun. Leia had to get this done tonight. If she didn't, the convoy set to go out tomorrow would either be delayed, or would be forced to use the old route, right past a known base of Snoke's.
But her son still stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and his hair unruly. Leia's smile softened, grew genuine. She opened her arms.
"Come here. Sit with me. Did you have a nightmare?"
"No." Ben's cheek was warm against Leia's arm, his breathing as calm and soothing as his bright, pulsing presence in the Force. "Mommy?" He looked up and over his shoulder at her. "Do I have a grandma and a grandpa?"
Leia's next breath was sharp, and she made herself let it out slowly. "Not anymore," she said. "Why?"
"Ennis has a grandma and a grandpa."
Leia nodded. "That's right." Ben had been on a playdate today, that was all. "Ennis's mommy was a pilot. Did you know that?"
Ben considered this, nodded. "Her X-wing exploded."
It was a crude explanation, but true. "That's right. And his daddy is a mechanic, here at the base."
"Like Chewie?"
Leia didn't think Chewie would especially like being called a mechanic, but the comparison still made her smile. "Sort of like Chewie. And like Chewie, he's very busy. So his parents—Ennis's grandma and grandpa—help take care of his family, too."
The datapad beeped—an incoming messsage. "Is that all, Ben? I really need to finish this tonight."
"Wait!"
The urgency in Ben's voice was enough to still Leia's hand, though her eyes darted to the lighted screen.
"Why don't you and Daddy have mommies and daddies?"
Leia closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. Reminded herself that Ben had no way of knowing what he had asked. "Your father never knew his parents," she said slowly. Carefully. "We think they died when he was just a little boy. And my parents... My parents died on Alderaan."
Ben watched her face, unblinking, unmoving. "Alderaan exploded too."
"That's right."
A silence fell over the room, and although it was not the answer she had most feared giving, a sudden rush of memory swept over Leia. Why wasn't Han here? Why did these questions have to come in the middle of the night, when she couldn't at least wake up Luke and beg him to answer them for her?
"Do you want to see their picture?" She pushed the words past dry, tense lips. It was better than having to explain, at least, how Alderaan had "exploded."
Ben slid from her lap, or Leia picked him up, and he stood, silently, watching her with those same deep eyes as she opened a drawer, slid her hand to the back, and pulled out the ancient datachip. It was a treasure, something one of the last Alderaanian survivors had given her—an old news broadcast, saved for reasons sentimental to someone else in another place, another time. Bail and Breha Organa, standing together on the balcony of the palace where she had grown up.
Ben stared at the image, flickering into life in the space above Leia's console. For a moment, the beginnings of a smile played across his lips. But then, whatever it had been fell away, and he looked Leia in the eyes again.
"They don't look like you." He said it like a question. "Ennis's grandma and grandpa look like his dad."
Leia swallowed. "That's very... perceptive of you, Ben." Tears were welling up in her eyes. What would Han say, to something like this? He'd have a better answer than she did.
The datapad beeped again. But this was her son. This was Leia's son, and she knew she couldn't lie to him.
"Do you know what it means to be adopted?"
Ben shook his head.
"Well, you know where babies come from, right?" This, at least, she had told him—thank the Force for pregnant comptrollers. "That you grew here"—she rested one hand on her stomach—"until you were old enough to be born?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, sometimes the mommy who grows the baby can't take care of it. Maybe she dies, like Ennis's mommy. Or maybe she's very young. Or very sick. Or very poor. And sometimes there are other mommies, whose bodies can't have babies, but their hearts are very big, and those babies whose first mommies can't take care of them go to live with a second mommy, who loves them very much."
"So my grandma wasn't your real mommy?" Ben's eyes narrowed, and the space between his eyebrows lined.
Leia looked back at the flickering image, at Breha Organa waving to the crowd. "She was my real mommy, Ben."
"What about your other mommy? Your first mommy?"
"I don't know," Leia lied. She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve and picked up the datapad. "I'm sorry, Ben. I really have to take care of this now." She pressed another manufactured smile onto her lips, and pressed the com button. "Threepio? I need you to put Ben to bed."