a/n: i bet it's really hard being a force sensitive mother if you have no idea how to control it.

Leia stood in the spacious kitchen, staring silently into a steaming mug of kaffe. She swirled a spoon through it slowly, mixing in a frugal amount of sweetener. She always used to drink kaffe black, but she didn't like the harsh bitterness so much anymore.

The lights in the kitchen were dim, kept low due to the late hour, and Leia turned her head slightly as she heard footsteps in the hall. She tapped the spoon against the edge of her mug and laid it down gently on the counter. Han rounded the corner, rubbing his hand over one of his eyes tiredly. He rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head affectionately as he slipped past, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

"Where's your shirt?" Leia asked, noticing he was without it – he hadn't been when he'd gotten up an hour ago to help her.

"Ben has it," he answered, moving forward. He leaned on the counter next to her, setting his glass down. Resting on his elbows, his head came to her shoulder, and she angled her face towards him, lifting her brows.

Han smiled.

"He kept grabbing it when I tried to put him down," he said, "so I took it off and gave it to him."

Leia smiled back, softly.

"That's sweet," she said quietly. "Is he asleep?"

Han shook his head.

"He's playing with the shirt," he said. "But he's quiet." He paused, looking down at the steam curling up from her kaffe. "I think he might fall sleep on his own – why're you drinking that?" he asked, changing gears. "It'll keep you up."

She shrugged.

"I can't sleep anyway," she told him. "That's the worst kind of exhaustion, being tired yet unable to sleep."

"I told you I'd stay up with him," Han said, a little edgily.

Leia had been up with Ben for two hours before Han came to the rescue – increasingly, it seemed that Han was always coming to her rescue where the baby was concerned. She knew he hadn't literally been crying all night, but it felt like he'd been screaming unhappily for at least those full two hours, and yet when Han had walked in to help her, his eyes thick with sleep, Ben had quieted from five-alarm distress to mere fussing in what seemed like a second.

"I still won't sleep," Leia murmured.

Han frowned thoughtfully.

"Okay, why don't I take him down to the Falcon, and if he acts up again, you'll still have some quiet – hey, whoa," he broke off suddenly, when she bowed her head and brought a hand up to cover her eyes. "What's wrong?"

She bit the inside of her cheek hard, swiping her fingers over her eyes. There wasn't really any use – tears had already started to fall, and she'd stopped hiding them from Han years ago.

"I don't want you to take him away because I can't handle him," she said shakily. "And it's not – it's not the sound of the crying, it's not just that, Han," she said desperately. She turned to him, pushing her fingers against her ribs, near her abdomen. "I can feel his distress. It's physical. Even when I'm at the Senate, I know when he's crying."

Han reached out and ran his hand over her back lightly.

"I didn't meant you can't handle him," he said warily.

She wiped her cheeks and wrapped her hands around her mug, looking down at it.

"I know," she said. She lifted the kaffe and took a long sip, licking her lips slowly. "When he stops crying, my muscles ache like I've been in a battle," she admitted hoarsely.

Han watched her silently, swallowing hard. It was a difficult adjustment, but in the past four months since Ben had been born, Han sensed something more than the average new-parent shock was going on with Leia, and he wasn't sure he could put his finger on it. Until now, though, she'd never mentioned that she was affected by Ben's distress even when she was halfway across the city. He straightened up a little and moved closer, sliding his arm around her shoulders. Putting his face near hers, he nudged her cheek with his nose, pulling her into a sideways hug.

"It'll get better, Leia," he said.

"I'm not miserable. I don't dislike him," she said quickly, her tone almost panicked in how defensive she was.

He nodded – Gods, he hadn't meant to imply that. The last thing he needed was her doubting her maternal affections.

"I meant he'll get used to being alive," Han joked. "He won't cry all the time."

"He does cry all the time!" Leia gasped. "And I can't fix it! I can't ever calm him down, unless I'm feeding him!"

Han gripped her a little tighter, shooting a glance over his shoulder and down the hall.

"Can you believe I thought you'd be the one who was bad at this?" she asked, laughing mirthlessly.

Affronted, Han pulled back a little, giving her a look that was a mixture of amusement and hurt, his eyebrows going up.

"You thought I'd be a bad father? Leia, what the – "

She sensed the slight irritation in his tone, and she shook her head, reaching out to grasp his free hand.

"No," she corrected emphatically. "No, I just thought you'd be the one who didn't know what you were doing, or who freaked out," she trailed off, her cheeks flushing. "I didn't think you'd be a bad father," she said heavily. "I thought I'd be better at it than you because I'm his mother," she finished in a small voice.

He put his lips next to her ear.

"Well, that's very Old Republic of you, Your Worship," he whispered smugly.

Leia turned her head and met his eyes, her smile not quite lighting up her face. She sighed heavily, her throat tight again. Han reached up to draw his thumb across her cheeks, saying nothing as he caught a few more tears.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she confessed in a pained voice. "I can't soothe him – you just walked in there Han, and took over, and he smiles at you, he wants your shirt," she listed – she caught her breath, stopping short of sounding hysterical.

"Look, Leia, you're tired, it's been a rough week with 'im – things'll look better in the morning – "

"Don't write me off like that!"

"I'm not writing you off," he snapped, raising his voice.

Leia's eyes narrowed, and he stepped back, thrusting one of his hands out.

"It's not as bad as you think it is," Han said, quieting down. "He cries plenty when he's around me."

"But you can calm him down and I can't!" she burst out, rounding on him. "I was in there with him half the night, Han, I rocked him, I sang to him, I fed him," she listed, her voice cracking. "I'm supposed to enjoy this time with my newborn and I can't because I'm just – I'm just hurting all the time," she said, her hand lingering near her abdomen again.

Her voice softened, and she closed her eyes lightly.

"In that meeting I was in last week, when he had that cough," she said shakily. "I felt like I was going to pass out the whole time – I had a headache, I felt squeamish," she confessed. "It was killing me not being there, and when I got home, Chewie gave him to me and he just screamed and screamed – "

"Leia – "

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm not good at this, Han, I'm not doing it right – "

"Leia!" he said again.

She broke off at his tone, and before she could say anything, a splitting pain struck her temple – which she knew to mean that Ben was about to start crying. True to form, his cries sounded down the hall a mere nanosecond later, and Han rubbed his jaw. He held up his hand.

"Stay here," he ordered, turning on his heel.

Leia turned back to the counter helplessly, slamming her fist down.

"Don't do that!" Han called down the hall testily.

Leia lifted her hand and looked at it – was it the noise that had bothered Han, or the violence of the frustration? She felt like locking herself in the bathroom and sobbing. It wasn't depression she was feeling – she was familiar with that from the past – she just felt stressed and achy all the time; apprehensive and worried, and she was afraid Ben was dissatisfied with her, despite how much she loved him.

Han came back into the kitchen with Ben, wrapped in his t-shirt, and leaned his hip against the counter, holding the baby against his shoulder easily with one arm. Leia pushed her hair back miserably – even in her downtrodden mood, though, the sight of him holding Ben could make her smile. Han was looking at her intently, something glimmering in his eye.

"What?" she asked warily.

She reached out and laid her hand on Ben's back, rubbing lightly. He'd stopped crying, but at her touch, he shifted his head in agitation. She stopped moving her hand, keeping it there as she looked up at Han, her face pale.

"I think I know what the problem is," Han said gruffly, hurrying on, "and I think you need to talk to Luke."

Leia drew her hand back, her brow furrowing. She pursed her lips, taken aback – it was simply unexpected that Han would suggest she seek out Luke instead of him. Han generally took very personal offense to her confiding in anyone but himself. When she didn't say anything, Han cleared his throat, shifting Ben a little higher on his shoulder.

"He's like you, isn't he?" he prompted.

Leia stared at him for a moment, and then realization flickered, and she started to cotton on.

"He's Force sensitive," she said slowly, inclining her head – yes; Luke had told her that was almost inevitable, considering their lineage, and she'd easily been able to confirm it before he was born.

"Maybe," Han said carefully, "you two constantly upset each other," he reasoned. "'Cause you don't like it when he's upset, and he's too little to control anything."

Stricken, Leia stared at him. She felt like she should have known that without being told – she'd never allowed Luke to instruct her in the ways of the Force; she had no interest in being part of it, but he'd warned her a baby would be uncharted territory – in the Old Republic, Force sensitive children had been separated from their parents as early as possible, and their were no records of what new motherhood with Force sensitive babies was like.

She swallowed hard.

Luke would probably be able to teach her how to partition off her emotions when she was feeling stressed, or uncertain, or frustrated – to keep them from upsetting Ben. He might be able to teach her to control the connection between them so she wasn't dwelling on him when he was in perfectly good hands, and feeling those debilitating, sharp pains when he was sad, or angry, or sick –

Leia leaned against the counter, staring at Han as if he'd just turned all the lights in the galaxy on.

"You think if I just calm down, he'll like me?"

Han laughed.

"Sweetheart, he likes you," he said, rolling his eyes a little. He thought about it a moment, searching for a comparison. "You know how sometimes you have to turn Threepio off so I can focus?"

She glared at him.

"Am I Threepio in this analogy?"

Han snorted.

"Yes," he teased.

He shifted Ben, and moved closer, handing him to her. Ben twisted in her arms, snuggled up in Han's shirt, and rested his tiny palm against her chest, his large, dark eyes open and staring at her. Han touched her chin and looked at her intently a moment.

"Just relax," he soothed.

She kept his gaze for a moment, and then looked down.

Ben, curling his hand up near his mouth, looked back at her silently with Han's eyes. He reached out and grasped at her face, and Leia pressed her lips to his hand, smiling brilliantly at him.

He smiled back.

Han folded his arms, and stepped back.

"You need to talk to Luke," he said again.

He felt a little disarmed, as he usually did, that there were things Luke could assist Leia with that he could not, but at least tonight, in this moment, he'd figured out what the problem was – and with great relief, too, because Leia's increasing insecurities about the baby – that should have been getting better the longer they had him, not worse – had been taking a toll on Han as much as they had her.

"In fact," Han went on suddenly, "why don't we make Luke take him all day this weekend, and I can work on those sore muscles you're talking about."

He gave her a suggestive look, and she blushed, nestling Ben a little closer – she'd have to think a little on handing him off to Luke for a whole day; that was asking a lot of her brother. She nodded though, grateful for the offer. Han reached out and ran his hand over her shoulder confidently.

"You're a good mom, Leia," he said simply. "I don't think a bad one would worry so much."

She smiled softly.

Han cleared his throat, and she looked up to see him giving her a playfully expectant look.

"You're a good father," she said, laughing a little. Her cheeks turned pink again. "I'm sorry I – "

He waved his hand, smirking; he wasn't really miffed at her for it. More than one person who'd known him before the Empire's demise had given him a skeptical – some even a horrified – look when he told them Leia was going to have a baby. He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, biting back a yawn. He ran his hand through his hair.

"You want me to put him down?" he offered.

"No," she murmured. "I'm going to stay up with him awhile."

Han nodded, and left her in the kitchen, relieved to be heading back to bed – considering how tired he was all the time, he hated to imagine how Leia felt with the physical straight on top of it.

Leia carried Ben from the kitchen down the hall to his nursery, settling herself in the rocking chair in the corner. She stroked her fingers over Ben's brow, and he turned his head into her touch, blinking at her sleepily.

Watching him now, silent and calm in her arms, soothed by her own relaxed state and Han's ability to bring that out in her, she let herself consider that there was more to the Force than the threat of darkness; in neglecting the understanding Luke offered her, she'd damaged her ability to control raw power and bond with her son.

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes lightly, restfully. She was able to sense the moment Ben fell asleep, and still she didn't put him in his crib and return to bed; she stayed in the chair with him all night, until the sound of Han making breakfast in the kitchen woke her up the next morning.

gah, it just breaks my heart that in the EU 'verse and now in the Sequel 'verse Leia had sons who grew up to turn bad, and she worried so much about her parenthood in the first place. repeat after me: princess leia deserved better (and han solo never would have bailed on her).

-alexandra
story #280