Alas, I don't own Star Wars and don't have the necessary credits to buy it from Disney. I grudgingly acknowledge their ownership: I do not own anything in the galaxy far, far away or make any profit from this, except for my own enjoyment, and hopefully a review or two. ;)

A pink cape, jewelry, and a pair of slippers had all just joined the scraps of wrapping paper on the floor.

Leia's tall stack of presents was dwindling, and so was the little princess's smile. While the gifts from her mother's admiring and enthusiastic subjects had been given with the best of intentions, they hadn't been the best choices: Leia wasn't one for pink sparkly baubles. Nonetheless, she had smiled and said thank-you for every single one. Bail, watching, couldn't have been any prouder.

Now, though, Leia's efforts were growing strained. A droid could have looked more expressive than the newly turned five-year-old, as she plastered on a painful grin. "Thanks." She shot a weary glance at the remaining presents: Apparently, she wasn't holding out much hope that they might hold anything more interesting than the prim clothing and accessories.

As funny as Leia's attempts at diplomacy were, Bail couldn't stand to leave his little girl disappointed for much longer. After the last of the presents from the public had been opened, he led Leia to a more private room and handed her a wrapped package. "There's one more present for you, sweetheart."

"Is it from you?" Leia asked, perking up. She peeled back the paper, then leapt up with an excited shriek. "Oh, thank you, Daddy!" She inspected the picture on the box; A full ten seconds later, she was ripping it open and pulling out a piece of shiny plastic. Assuming a mature pose and tough expression that were incongruous with the tiny girl, Leia touted the toy blaster.

Out in the hall, a senator bearing a present for Leia Organa held a splutter of blaster fire. He turned and ran back down the halls. "Guards!" he shouted to the two men standing on duty. "I heard blasters. Queen Breha, Senator Organa, and the Princess are in danger!"

Gripping their weapons, the three men sprinted to the room where the royal family had been celebrating Leia's birthday. They took up positions on either side of the door and thrust it open with a powerful kick. One of the men thrust up his blaster…

Only to find the royal Princess of Alderaan on the other end, holding the Senator hostage with a plastic toy. Wide-eyed, Leia dropped it and held up her hands. As the toy hit the ground, the sound mechanism went off: Pew pew pew!

Bail gave the sheepish trio a wry look. "Thank you for rescuing me."

The poltician glanced at the princess retrieving her weapon and remembered the present he had dropped in the hall after hearing the blaster noises. Maybe the sparkly hairclips inside hadn't been the best choice after all.

o0o

Owen glumly wound up the trinket composed of small gears and odd parts, sending it marching through the shadows falling across the table. When he'd seen the strange little toy droid in a crate of junk the Jawas were trying to pawn off, he had thought it would be the perfect birthday present for Luke. The boy had always been obsessed with the Jawas' odds and ends.

This time, though, Luke had his sights set on something bigger: "Uncle Owen, can I please, please have a bantha?"

"Luke, we have parts on the farm that need fixing," Owen had explained patiently. "And the E9-1 droid will need to be replaced soon. We simply don't have the credits for a bantha, or the huge amount of food it would eat."

"But you wouldn't have to buy milk, so you would save credits!" Luke said. "And he would be my best friend." Owen decided not to mention that a "he" would not be producing milk: Luke already asked enough questions without his uncle providing material for more.

The boy was warming to the persuasive arts. "Yes, he would be someone I could talk to. Then I would stop pestering E9 all day, and he could get more work done."

"But, Luke," Owen protested. "Banthas and their fodder stink. And I'm allergic to their fur."

"If you're allergic, your nose will stuff up, and you won't smell it!" Luke exclaimed. Apparently feeling he had won the argument, the sandy haired four-year-old gave his uncle a sunny smile and skipped out of the room. Owen leaned over, peering through the crack of the door to watch his nephew. E9 had just shuffled into the house, and Luke was standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to reach the droid's ear. "I'm getting a bantha for my birthday," he said in a loud whisper, then beamed in Uncle Owen's direction.

A bantha was out of the question, of course, but Owen couldn't help dreading the moment when Luke would come out of his bedroom, hair tousled with sleep, eyes wide with excitement, expecting a bantha- only to find a few trinkets in its place.

A hand squeezed his shoulder. Without looking up, Owen said bitterly, "This is all I can give him, Beru. A toy made of Jawa scrap. While somewhere, his sister will be receiving birthday presents in a palace."

"I doubt she will be getting a bantha," Beru said, smiling.

"No, but I'm sure she got what she wanted." Owen sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "He just dreams of having a pet, like any little boy, but I can't even give him that."

Beru's eyes lit up. "Maybe we can."

The next morning, Luke raced out of his room. His hair was tousled with sleep, his eyes were wide with excitement, and he couldn't wait to see his bantha.

And there it was, sitting at his seat at the table: A shaggy, cuddly stuffed bantha. Luke stood and stared at it. There was a moment of silence in which Owen and Beru barely breathed, but then a bright grin spread slowly across the child's face. Luke rushed to the table and snatched up the bantha with one arm and the droid with the other.

"Oh, boy! Thanks, Uncle Owen. Thanks, Aunt Beru," Luke beamed. He flung his arms around Beru, not noticing the weariness in her eyes or the way she sat stiffly in her chair, the result of a long night with much sewing and little sleep. Owen was suffering the same ailments, having loyally stayed up with his wife until she had finished Luke's toy. It had all been worth it, though, Owen mused, just to see the smile on Luke's face…

The boy's next words, though, jerked him out of both thought and sleepiness:

"I'm going to name him Obi-Wan."

"Beru, were you telling the boy stories about the Jedi again!?"

A/N The moments in these ficlets probably won't occur chronologically, as I will post them as I write them, and I will write each when I am inspired (And we all know inspiration doesn't strike in chronological order!) Anyway, thanks for reading, and please leave me a review if you would like to read about a certain milestone for Luke and Leia.