Notes: This fic is based mostly on the former EU - not because I don't like the new one, but because I do not know it as well as the original one.

So, FYI, books like "Leia, Princess of Alderaan" and the "Aftermath" trilogy are not taken into account here. On the contrary, I've drawn inspiration from *plenty* of books from the former EU. There will be a couple of minuscole references to "Rebels", at some point, but they're not that important.

That said, a couple of things for you to know before embarking into this emotional rollercoaster.

First of all, I have no idea how I ended up creating this giganormous headcanon of mine on Mon Mothma.

I know I liked her in the OT (in that one scene she seemed so strong!), and then I adored her in "Revenge of the Sith" and "Clone Wars" (and then "Rebels", WOW).

Then, I loved her in the books, and I loved her friendship with Bail, Breha and Padmé. And, all of a sudden, they looked like a family to me. I imagined them being more than just colleagues in the Senate - I actually saw them as best pals, having a drink in one's apartment at the 500 Republic, gossiping and arguing and facing the incoming disaster together.

And I needed to find a father to Mon Mothma's former canonical children, Jobin and Lieda. And I don't know how I ended up shipping *so hard* Mon Mothma and Bail Antilles, Breha's cousin and Bail's predecessor as Senator of Alderaan. I do think it's because I generally like minor characters and so I create huge backgrounds for them, and also because I really liked Antilles in the "Cloak of Deception" book (it might also have something to do with my undying love for Adrian Dunbar, honestly).

Something just clicked in my mind, and it seemed so right, and now he and Mon Mothma are my OTP in this fandom.

In short, this fanfic is going to be an attempt to put down in writing my headcanon, because I think her pain has never been truly analysed in any way. As such, it might be unclear and complicated and incomplete in some parts, but I felt the need to put this thing in writing to be able to reread it (and feel curiously happy about it). I'm sorry if some parts results murky for you.

I swear the next notes will not be this long.

Also, English is not my native language, sorry for any mistake :/

1. Mentorship – Bail (4ABY)

"A mentor is someone who sees more talent and ability within you,

than you see in yourself, and helps bring it out of you."

— Bob Proctor

At first, she thinks she loves him.

.oOo.

She is barely nineteen when she is elected at the Senate of the Republic, and can't believe her ears when her Mother tells her that the Senator Organa is going to be her mentor in the political arena. The Senator Organa. The man whose speeches she has almost learned by heart, the man her Mother regards as one of their closest friends and allies, the man Mon herself admires more than her own father.

She is nineteen, he is forty, and, in the hindsight, hers is the most blatant crush ever.

.oOo.

She wants to make him proud of her, to show him she is learning everything she could hope for, and from the very best. She has outdone herself plenty of time in the past years, only to demonstrate him that he's doing an amazing job in mentoring her.

He's always kind enough to ignore her foolish attempts to impress him.

.oOo.

She knows he's married, and of course she knows who his wife is, but still she thinks it had been a terrible injustice, because he deserves better than an arranged wedding with someone he doesn't love for the sake of the peace on Alderaan.

He speaks so rarely of his wife that she almost forgets she exists, but every time he says something about the Queen, his gaze is different, his voice softer. There have been days, in the recent past, in which Mon Mothma would have dreamed to hear that softness in his voice when talking about her. But she is growing up.

.oOo.

She learns of the miscarriages almost by chance. The first time it happens, a very pale Sheltay Retract has to explain her; the other times, she recognizes the symptoms in his odd behaviour. She sees him crumbling under the weight of the loss, time after time, unable to help his wife. She drinks with him in those occasions, and, behind the rage and the desperation, she sees he fiercely loves his wife. She feels his pain, and her working hard is not to impress him anymore, but to help him to deal with the work he has left behind because of the mourning.

He is not her mentor anymore; he is her friend.

.oOo.

She's twenty-two by the time he finally brings his wife to Coruscant to meet the other senators, and she has never seen him more proud and ecstatic. Her teenage crush is almost gone, and the respect and affection she feels for him have reached unbelievable levels.

Meeting Breha changes everything. Beautiful, poised, bearing herself with an innate grace that Mon admires, and even envies, the Queen is perfect at his side. As soon as Mon sees them together, the last relics of her crush are gone forever.

.oOo.

She still loves the man.

He's her best friend, and nothing will ever change their relationship; they help one another, they have the other's back in the Senate, they spend their time together talking about their loved ones. By then, Mon is part of his family, and he trusts her with his life. He tries to teach her how to drive a speeder, and fails, miserably. She tries to teach him how to cook Breha's favourite dishes without setting the kitchen on fire, and fails, too.

He is not just her friend anymore; he's more like the older brother she never had.

.oOo.

In the last decades, he has always been at her side, even if he wasn't materially next to her. She has always known that, had she needed him for an advice or some support, he would always be at the other side of a comlink, ready and willing to help her. Even when she was a renegade – she still is, now it's even worse – he was at her side, no matter how dangerous it was for him to try to contact her. And he contacted her also for the smallest things, risking his life, often to tell her something about Lieda and Jobin, about Antilles, anything he knew was useful to keep Mon focused on their objectives.

To think that he's gone forever, and it that way, it's unbelievable. It's unbearable.

She looks out of the trasparisteel window of her ship, and can't believe her eyes, won't believe her eyes. When General Draven and General Rieekan had told her what had happened, years ago now, she hadn't believed them. She had screamed, actually. She had screamed at two of her best men outside the privacy of her small, personal cabin, in the middle of the main command bridge, and she had collapsed. She had cried, unable to accept the fact.

Whoever has decided to call it The Graveyard was right. There's no name more fitting than this for the cold desolation in front of her, for the asteroid field that was once one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy.

She's crying, again. She's glad she has waited until the end of the war against the Empire to come here, because now she has all the time in the world to pay her respects to her family. She's glad Leia is not here – Mon has been strong for her, but she's not sure she would have been strong again, had Leia been with her in that very moment.

She put a hand on the transparisteel window, and feels the coldness of the space against her palm; she's feeling cold, too, empty; the rage, the pain, are both long gone, and she can only drown in the emptiness she feels inside.

Her best friends were on that planet.

Her husband-to-be.

Her children.

But they had won, in the end; they had paid a monstrous price in human lives, both sides had, but in the end the Rebellion had won.

She knows almost everyone wants her to be the next Supreme Chancellor. The thought worries her, but sometimes she feels something like pride at the idea of having so many people trusting her; true, she's the only original head of the Rebellion to be still alive, and she has a lot of experience in politics, yet the possibility leaves her dizzy.

She has been a politician for all her life. Her mother was a politician. Her best friends were politicians, two of them even Queens. Her husband-to-be was a politician. Her mentor was a politician. Her son wanted to be a politician, like his parents. They are all dead, now, and she knows she's their legacy.

They would have been proud of her – she can almost see Bail's grin at her designation, hear Breha's delighted squeal, and see Padmé's eyes shining with satisfaction. See Antilles looking at her, proud, in the corner, as always; Jobin squeezing Lieda into a hug. It's almost like they're with her right now, overlooking the Graveyard.

Mon Mothma smiles at herself. Eventually, she knows it, she'll drop the "Supreme".

Notes: Ok, so, first of all, thank you so much for having read all of this. Seriously, thank you.

Then, for me Bail Organa and Mon Mothma are one of the biggest BROTP in the Star Wars fandom.

Like, Mon Mothma entered the Senate as the youngest Senator ever, and Bail Organa became her mentor, then friend. They worked closely together, and believed in the same things. I can easily imagine them plotting together the creation of the Petition of 2000, Mon's passionate nature kept at bay by Bail's longer experience, or drinking something with Padmé after a looooong day at the Senate, or generally having each other's back. I mean, in the former EU, they even ended up prisoners together on the Death Star, and lived to tell the tale. They created the Rebellion, and led it until the Disaster.

100% best pals.