Title: Quiet Moments

Main Characters: Dorme and baby Leia

Summary: Dorme spends a few moments reflecting with baby Leia.

Notes: This has the possibility to spin into a series of one shots, not quite sure yet though.

Thanks to: The Baby Think It Over program for making me taking the 'Leia' (my baby simulator) home for the weekend thus giving me inspiration, and kotorchick for being an awesome beta. As always, George Lucas is the one who can use one hundred dollar bills for paper towels, not I.

Quiet Moments

I look down into her young face. It has the same defiant features that I know came from both mother and father. Her dark brown eyes seem to gleam with a fire from within, and her hair is dark and soft, curling in ringlets around her face. Her posture is tense, and I can tell tonight there won't be any caving in from her. At least, she won't be this early in the game

Upon looking at her, you would think she is merely a baby, the infant daughter of Bail Organa, King of Alderaan. And indeed, according to all public records, she is. But that isn't the whole story. I am one of the few who know the truth: in this baby's hands and in those of her twin brother lie the fate of the entire galaxy. She already has perfected the first art of a leader: she can definitely make her voice heard to all. Who knew little lungs could hold so much air?

She lets forth another ear piercing set of screams, quickly letting me know that she will not be happy with just simply being rocked. No, she's hungry, and so I get the bottle out and place it to her lips. She accepts it greedily, and begins sucking quite happily. Her small hand curl around the bottle tightly with a strength unusual to most her age. She looks up at me with eyes that seem to say, 'thank you,' though if her parentage is any indication it's more likely to be an, 'about time!'

Her parents: Anakin and Padme; The Hero With No Fear and the Outspoken Senator of Naboo. No one would have thought it possible. After all, he was a Jedi. They were not to know love. Yet I was Padme's trusted confidante, and again one of the few who knew the entire story. One of the few who ever will.

It saddens me greatly to think of milady. She was so kind, so strong, always very brave, but worry was never far from her doorstep. As Queen Amidala, it was the survival of her people. As a new Senator, it was the peace effort. And during the war, it was of everything. Was Anakin alive? Would the Senate survive? Would the war ever end?

Her heart hung heavy with the burden of these things, and I wished I could take it all from her. She would sometimes get sick from the stress of it all, taking to her bed for one day, for that's all the time she would allow herself, no matter what I said. In fact, that's what we thought the morning sickness was. Another time when her body demanded a break from the overbearing load she put on it.

This wasn't like the other spells though. This didn't end after a day in bed, or a drink of herbal tea. It persisted, till finally she had no choice. She had to see a doctor. The ride there was tense. She kept twisting a handkerchief, the one that Anakin had brought her from the Outer Rim a few weeks ago. It had been the first time she had seen him in four months, and their parting held more pain than any before it. She would never admit to it, not even to me, but I knew it to be so. She couldn't hide her love and longing for this Jedi, just as the doctor couldn't deny the truth of her condition, though she made him recheck the data at least seven times. Padme, Senator of Naboo, former Queen, wife of a Jedi knight, was going to have a baby.

She wore on her face a look of joy and fear, equally mixed. This, of course, would end the game of secrecy. A marriage you could hide, tough as it was to do so. A child though? This changed everything. Of course, she had always told me that someday she would like to have children, but not now, not in the middle of the Clone Wars. But then again, the Force (which I then still had some skepticism over) rarely asks us when would be our ideal timing.

Five months later, Anakin came home, and I had never seen him so happy. From there though, the memory's run together like water. Hearing Padme try to soothe him after a night of bad dreams, Obi Wan coming for that fateful visit, Palpatine becoming Emperor, then Mustafar. Her body passing by me, lifeless and quiet on its way to the final destination, and finally volunteering to be the princess' nursemaid, so as to watch over her. I choose not to revisit these, now or ever. They are too painful, too strong to be contained, and I fear what would happen if they were released. I must focus on my charge, this tiny princess now, who seems to be through feeding.

I rock her in my arms, attempting to lull her to sleep. Alderaan's cool night winds blow in and tickle her face. She coos, and a smile graces her angelic features. It reminds me of her mother's smile. Innocent and genuine. I would give anything to have Padme see this sight. She is the one who should be here holding her daughter, not I.

Milady's thoughts after the discovery were constantly of her unborn child. Would they have her love of politics, her stubborn nature, her brown eyes and hair? Or would they be like Anakin? A roguish grin constantly adoring their faces, strong, so full of passion for everything they did. She vowed that she wouldn't miss a thing in their life.

Now, though, she is gone, and I am left to witness these simple moments, moments that Anakin stole not only from her, but from himself. For now he is Darth Vader, more machine than man, the Emperor's assistant that goes terrorizing the galaxy. I live each day in fear that he will discover the truth: that Leia is his. I won't let him have her. She and her brother are our only hope. We have to protect them at all costs.

"Dorme, is she asleep yet?" I hear the Queen's voice from the door, but I don't turn to look. I don't dare move a muscle and disturb the tiny baby's content state.

"Not yet, your Majesty, but I have a feeling it won't be long now. She's putting up quite a fight though," I whisper back to her.

"That doesn't shock me," and I can almost hear the smile in her voice. The door shuts with hardly a sound, and I return my attention to Leia.

Her eyelids begin to close ever so gently now. I can tell she's fighting sleep hard, but sleep in the end is winning out. It's at times like these that I like to imagine her future. I know she will play a major part in it, but how? Will she be like her father was? A warrior, fighting for what was right? Or will she be like her mother, holding her own in the political arena, making the voice of democracy heard everywhere?

Allowing myself to relax a little, I lean my head back and sigh. Who knew that my life would turn out this way? I had always imagined surviving milady for the rest of my days, and I happily excepted it, for it brought me much joy. I would have gladly given my life for hers at any given time, such was my devotion. But part of me knows that I am still protecting her by guarding her daughter, for Leia is so much like her, yet so much like her father as well, a perfectly blended mix of the two.

I begin to slow in my rocking, and eventually come to a stop. Her eyes fly open again, and I return to the gentle swaying motion. Those deep brown orbs never leave mine, and for some unexplainable reason, I begin to tell her a story. One I know that she will not remember, but one that she will come to hear again someday.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy much like this, there lived a slave boy and a child queen. Their fates, however far apart it may seem, were bound together, and this is how . . . "

And as I weave my tale of the past now erased, the future gently falls asleep in my arms, and I allow myself to enjoy this rare quiet moment.