a/n: welcome to Jaina's anthology!
8 ABY
Coruscant
As far as morning routines went, since Han's retirement theirs had changed - a little. Not much. Well, a little much. Leia had expected he might start sleeping in later, considering he had no pressing responsibilities. Yet for a while, habit persisted - and her early morning alarms woke him up, anyway. He generally found something to do - and sometimes, that something was being up a smidge before her, and poking around making breakfast. She had told him more than once to just roll over and go back to sleep when she silenced her alarms and got up for the day, yet he rarely did, and she attributed it at least somewhat to his desire to make sure she was fed, without having to stress about when she'd get time to eat during the busy New Republic morning, and his concern over how she was starting her mornings these days - which was, usually, hanging over the sani.
This was one of those mornings he was up before her, shuffling around in the 'fresher with a razor and lazily scraping off the stubble on his jaw. Idly focusing on his reflection in the mirror, he tried to guess if the alarm or the nausea would wake her first this morning - increasingly, it was the nausea, waking her up almost an hour before she needed to get ready and get going, a fact which made Han anxiously grumble over whether or not she was getting enough sleep. He trusted her to know herself, and if she was overdoing it, but he still worried. As a former general, with no real commitments at the time, he had plenty of time to devote all his time to worrying about Leia, though thus far, he was pretty sure he'd reigned it in enough that he wasn't driving her completely up the wall.
Not completely. Halfway up, maybe.
He shook off his razor in the sink, and glanced down as he heard soft jingling - the bells on Zozy's collar, announcing his presence. Han had made the bells mandatory after the third time Zozy snuck into the kitchen, silent as the grave, and - accidentally, of course - nearly tripped Leia. It was a measure that had her rolling her eyes a little, but Han wasn't about to let her have a bad fall in their own home - not on his watch, and not because of her precious pet.
Zozy sat on his haunches and peered up at Han, tongue lolling out happily.
"She up?" Han asked him.
Zozy chirped. He swished his feathery tail, and cocked his head. Zozy had a habit of cuddling around Leia's ankles when she was dealing with her morning trials, and to Han's chagrin - at first, he'd learned not to take it personally - Leia preferred the mooka's affection to Han's. She was snippier and more temperamental, nowadays, but those moments were always followed by contrite horror, and Leia swearing up and down she wasn't using hormones as an excuse, and she was so sorry. Han had stopped treating it as a personal attack a few weeks ago, recognizing that the resurgence of some of her more mercurial attitudes was not a regression of any of the healing strides she'd made with her post-traumatic stress disorder - it was just hormones, and he didn't want her to feel worse about it than she already did.
On cue, Leia half-ran into the 'fresher, sleepily stumbling in. She headed for the sani, then abruptly stopped in front of it. She put a hand to her forehead, and one on her hip, and closed her eyes, frowning. She took a deep breath, and then started to pace slowly behind him. Zozy wagged his tail at her happily. Leia made a soft, frustrated groaning noise.
Han peered at her, studying her in the mirror.
"Gonna be sick?" he asked, leaning forward and going about his shaving as if all were normal - this was normal, now; new normal.
Leia continued to pace gingerly. She shook her head.
"I don't think so," she said faintly. "False alarm. No," she stopped, lunging for the sani again, and then stopped again, sighing. "Maybe, yes," she muttered to herself.
She put both of her hands on her stomach and bowed her head, taking a few more deep breaths.
"Can you go turn my alarm off, before it rings?" she murmured tensely. "The noise has been...really," she trailed off, as the alarm started to sing in the next room. She winced hard. "Han," she urged.
He dropped his razor and went to turn it off, and heard her start to get sick as soon as he walked out. Fumbling, he slapped at buttons on the damn thing, trying to silence it as quickly as possible - it was an obnoxious, klaxon-like wailing noise, loud and persistent enough to ensure she wouldn't sleep through it at her tiredest. Han figured that was a relic of days long gone, though; he knew Leia rarely slept deeply enough that an alarm wouldn't wake her up. That kind of sleep was long lost, a rarity, to a woman who had been through as much as she.
He tossed it back onto the bedside table, and strolled back into the 'fresher, only to nearly run into her. She was hunched over the sink, letting the water run to rinse the basin. He rested his hand on her back lightly and muttered an apology; she shook her head.
"Sorry," she retorted. "Couldn't make the sani."
He gave her an amused look, given how close the sani was to the sink, but said nothing. She straightened up a little, and winced, moving to the side. Grimacing, she lifted the lid of the sani and bent over it, waiting. Han opened the medicine cabinet above their sink and started wordlessly preparing a little cup of mouthwash for when she was done. He set it aside, careful not to crowd her - he knew she hated to have him hover - and picked up his razor again. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her straighten up, a hopeful little look on her face, only to pitch herself over the sani and start to vomit again, her shoulders collapsing in defeat. Realizing her hair had mostly come loose from its braid, Han stepped over and gingerly held it back for her until she was done.
She finally lifted her head slowly, and groaned, and Han slid his hand gently back over her hair. Then, he picked up the little cup, handed it to her, and stepped back a little. Zozy wove around her ankles sympathetically. Turning her head slightly to acknowledge his help, Leia nodded slowly, toasting him with the mouthwash.
"Thanks," she said faintly.
She rinsed out her mouth, spit in the sani, and flushed everything, turning to lower herself to sit on the edge of the 'fresher basin. She ran a hand back through her hair and sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. Han finished up shaving, keeping an eye on her out of the corner of his eye. He watched her lean down and stroke Zozy between the ears, clicking her tongue at him softly, and then she stood up, sidling over and reaching for her tooth brush. He made room for her, and since she leaned into his side pretty heavily - unexpectedly affectionate, which was rare, any time she was dealing with the morning-or-whenever-it-decided-to-strike-sickness - he rested his hand on her lower back and bent to kiss her temple.
"Feel any better?" he ventured gruffly.
Leia gave a half-hearted shrug.
"You know it...fluctuates," she mumbled. "Comes in waves."
She squeezed a thin layer of toothpaste onto her bristles, looking up at him narrowly and meeting his gaze in the mirror.
"Your shaving cream," she warned, nettled, "smells. I asked you to use mine."
Han frowned, moving his hand soothingly over her spine.
"No, you said my aftershave, not the foam - "
"Well now it's the foam. Can you get away from me?" she asked sharply.
With no change of expression, Han just nodded and stepped back, raising his hands. He backed into the doorway, patting his palm over his jaw and neck to rub in excess water, and tapped his foot, deliberately refusing to react.
"You think anythin' sounds good for breakfast?" he asked calmly. "Toast, with some citrus fruit...?" That was usually good for her, and some tea that Malla made sure they were well-stocked in, full of electrolytes and other nutrients.
Leia nodded, and lifted her head, her eyes swimming.
"I don't really want you to get away from me," she said, her lashes fluttering. "You just...smell so unappealing," she squeaked.
Han choked back a laugh, raising his eyebrows. He waved his hand dismissively, snorting.
"'M gonna go cut up some mint," he told her seriously. "Then I'll smell like mint. Settles your stomach, usually?"
She nodded again. She put her toothbrush in her mouth forlornly, and he added, just for good measure:
"Don't worry about it, Leia."
She smiled at him gratefully around the toothbrush, and he left her smiling, making his way into the kitchen to start fixing something for her to eat. Even if she just nibbled at it, it always made him feel better. He knew how fast-paced things could get at her office, and now was really not the time for her to miss out on food. He got out some fresh mint, and the water-infuser they used to make sure there was always ice cold mint water in the fridge. He also squeezed citrus fruit over two pieces of bread before popping it in the toaster - something he'd figured out usually helped, too. Getting the bread nice and toasty, and adding salt and citrus juice to it, was almost like a home-made citrus-infused cracker, and Leia said sometimes it was all she could even consider eating.
She shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later, and leaned against the island counter, accepting the glass of fresh, cold mint water with a rueful smile. Han sliced up a piece of citrus and turned, handing her one of the fresh pieces, and she took that, too, nibbling on it hesitantly. She'd thrown a robe on over her t-shirt, and tied up her hair into a knot at the back of her neck - no sound of the 'fresher running, so she was dragging her feet today.
"I'm so tired this morning," she grumbled around the rim of her glass as she took a sip. She sighed. "It kept me up all night," she confided.
Han picked up the cutting board and moved to stand next to her, continuing to slice. He looked over at her with interest.
"How long you gonna keep calling it 'it'?" he asked.
She wrinkled her nose stubbornly.
"We will find out when we find out," she retorted.
"Can't we nickname it or somethin'?" Han asked. "'It' sounds kinda creepy."
"Sure," Leia agreed. "Your spawn kept me up all night."
Han grinned.
"Spawn. Adorable," he said, deadpan.
Leia smiled gently. Han glanced down at her abdomen.
"Still can't feel anything," he said, furrowing his brow - he tried, sometimes. Just rested his hand there in bed, or while they were watching the Holo. Leia was unconcerned, but reassuring -
"You will, in a few weeks," she promised. "I know Dr. Mellis thinks its eerie that I can feel it. The finer details of the Force fascinate her," Leia murmured. She felt like sometimes, it made Dr. Mellis skeptical of how much Leia needed her help - but Leia very dearly needed her expertise. Innate senses were not at all the same as medical prowess.
"Be easier on you if you weren't Force sensitive, I guess," Han said. "You'd get more sleep."
"Mmhmm," Leia murmured. "Well, I guess it's training me to function with little sleep."
"You already do that," Han retorted. He paused, and looked up. "You want to just go in a little late? Push some meetings?" he proposed warily - she didn't always take such suggestions kindly; he'd been accused of coddling her more than once. Han had a strong suspicion that, despite having been pregnant before, she was still out of her element a little, and having a hard time adjusting to the fact that she really might need to make certain changes. That or - she was concerned about how it would look to her colleagues.
She shook her head, but didn't bristle.
"I'm already working a half day," she pointed out. "We have that sono."
Han nodded. He spun around and grabbed the toast as it popped up, dropping it quickly onto a plate and then setting it down next to him while he finished cutting the fruit. Hearing the toaster, Zozy came scampering in, parking himself at their feet with a jingle of his collar and getting ready to patiently beg for scraps. Leia grinned at him. Han started moving fruit from the board onto the plate, nodding to himself.
"Uh-huh," he said. "That sono," he repeated.
That sono being - the one they had never gotten to last time, not in the way they were supposed to. The one they'd see today was a week or two after the one she'd miscarried at, when she'd been barely conscious for the last sono. She was on edge about it, despite also being quite sure that there was nothing wrong - it seemed that even though her senses assured her all was well, and she insisted she was fine-tuned enough to know it was different, there were vulnerable, fragile parts of her that still worried her body might betray her suddenly.
He stuck a piece of fruit on his thumb and lifted it to his mouth.
"Gonna be fine," he soothed.
"I know," Leia said, reaching over to take the plate. "I know, and what I've read, and what Dr. Mellis has said is that - all this morning sickness is usually a good indication, it means possible toxins are being identified and purged," she trailed off. "And, you know, I wasn't...really sick, last time. Only once or twice," she murmured.
Han dropped a wilted piece of fruit to Zozy, and he caught it. Leia gave him a look. Han glared back innocently, and shrugged.
"You can't even resist the animal baby," Leia pointed out, for the hundredth time. "How are you going to make yourself discipline the Solo baby?"
Han smirked.
"Hey, I had no discipline, when I was little," he pointed out. "I turned out great."
"Jail is discipline, Han. You went twice."
"Builds character."
Leia elbowed him gently, rolling her eyes. She laughed. Han licked his thumb, and furrowed his brow, straightening up a little.
"What were you sayin' about the alarm, earlier?" he asked. "The noise?" he prompted.
"Hmm?" Leia mumbled through a mouthful of toast. "Oh," she said. She put her toast down, and furrowed her brow a little, looking down at her plate. "The noise," she began.
"Makes you nauseous?" Han asked.
Leia shook her head.
"No, it startles the baby," she said, uncertain herself. "I think. The couple times this week I've woken up to it have been very...distressing, and disconcerting," she explained. "And I'm used to that noise. I think it's scaring," she pointed at her abdomen, "him," she said.
Han raised his brows.
"Or her," she said, shrugging - and Han glared. "I need to pick a different tone."
"But you've had that alarm tone the whole time," Han started slowly. "And last time, too."
Leia nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm further along," she said softly. "And this one isn't sick," she added, pressing her hand against her abdomen gently. She reached out with her senses, and felt the bright, breathing life she was now so attuned to. "That's kind of fun, you know?" she murmured. "The hearing developing."
"Think it can hear me?" he asked curiously.
She nodded, crunching into the second piece of toast.
"You better watch your language," she warned blithely.
Han smirked, and turned back to the leftover fruit. He picked up another piece and dropped it down to Zozy, and Leia rolled her eyes again. She checked the time blinking at them from the chrono on the stove, and bit into some of the fruit, scowling. She needed to get moving, if she didn't want to attract attention coming in late - she was well aware that there was rampant speculation among the masses about her potential condition. Her own inner circle was openly and obviously suspicious, though she and Han told no one, officially. Even her father and Luke and - the handful of others - who had figured it out were feigning ignorance, since they had been told to keep silent until Han knew, and were waiting obediently for it to be announced to them.
Leia brushed off her hand on her robe, and set her plate aside, leaning over to brush her lips against Han's cheek. She lingered a moment, pressing her nose into his cheek, and then, even as he turned to give her a proper hug, drew back sharply, with a pinched, resigned look on her face - she was almost positive she was going to vomit again. Han gave her a sympathetic look, reaching for the mint water to have it ready, and Leia spun towards the sink, and started to heave.
The white-trimmed, lavender coloured walls native to Dr. Mellis' practice always had the soothing effect they were designed for. It was a demure, unassuming colour that evoked a peaceful contentment in happy patients, but was not too bright and garish for those in mourning who needed something a little softer. Having experienced both feelings in rooms like this, Leia felt it was the optimal choice. A significant aspect of Dr. Mellis' practice, however, was that she always tended to her patients herself. She was recognized among the core worlds as one of the best, an elite researcher, and capable of extreme precision and discretion, and she only took on as many patients as she felt she could personally and intimately attend do. Rare emergency instances sometimes hindered her, but she had never missed one of Leia's private appointments, or passed it off to one of her midwives, and that only added to the trust Leia had in her. The most significant aspect was that Mellis generally eschewed the use of droids unless they were needed for monitoring purposes; she considered them cold, bothersome, and incongruous in an environment that was meant to nurture sentient life, a belief that certainly eased Leia's mind.
"So," Dr. Mellis began, as she moved around on her rolling stool, sitting in front of her sono machine and entering the appropriate programs. "How are we feeling? Still dealing with nausea?"
Leia turned her head away from Han to watch the doctor work. She nodded, frowning.
"I don't think it's as bad as it could be," she said.
Dr. Mellis grinned, turning towards her on the stool.
"Heroic," she said brightly, "and, I think a good way to look at it. Framing things positively. I like it."
Han snorted; Leia shrugged.
"I'm…happy it's there," she said. "The morning sickness."
"I understand," Dr. Mellis said. She lifted her chin and looked over at Han, tilting her head. "And you? Adjusting okay?" she asked wryly. "Mood swings and all?"
Han nodded, resting his elbows on the exam cushion.
"What mood swings?" he asked, deadpan.
Dr. Mellis ticked up an eyebrow.
"Smart," she remarked.
Leia reached over and covered Han's hands with one of hers.
"He's a saint," she said seriously.
"Of course, people say that about Han Solo all the time," Dr. Mellis agreed.
Han laughed, shaking Leia's hand off and clasping it between his. Dr. Mellis scooted forward again, and gestured at Leia's abdomen.
"Roll up your blouse whenever you're ready," she instructed.
Leia complied with one hand, and Han tilted his head, resting his temple on his knuckles and watching her. She tucked the folded fabric under the band of her bra, and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling anxiously. She breathed out, and Han squeezed her hand pointedly.
"You know it's gonna be fine, Sweetheart," he said.
"I know," Leia said quietly.
She did she just…wanted confirmation from someone who did this for a living, instead of a mystical entity that let her sense things, but sometimes seemed as changing and whimsical as the wind.
"He's right," Dr. Mellis said pleasantly. "Of course, he doesn't know anything, he's just being optimistic," she added blithely, and Leia smiled wryly. "You're out of your first trimester, every blood test and genetic screen we did was perfect," she listed. "This will be a little cold," she added, turning to smooth gel over Leia's bare abdomen. "Losses do get rarer, the longer you carry. And you've got a great," Mellis paused, rubbing an antiseptic wipe over her wand before she lowered it to Leia's skin, "uterus."
"See, I'm always sayin' that, too," Han said, straight-faced. "Aren't I, Leia?" he poked her wrist.
Leia rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.
"Shut-up," she muttered affectionately.
She couldn't help but vaguely remember the silence, amidst all the noise, that she'd heard after her miscarriage, while the nursing tech searched, searched, searched, for –
"Hear that?" Dr. Mellis asked calmly.
Leia lifted her head, blinking.
- a heartbeat.
She looked at the screen, where the clear, pristine image came into focus and seemed to ripple, peacefully, with the unmistakable sound that she remembered, and could sense, sometimes, in her blood, and in the back of her mind, if she attuned herself to the Force closely enough – a heartbeat.
"Nice and strong," Mellis murmured firmly.
She studied the screen for a moment, her expression intent, then reached up and traced an outline with her index finger, showing them what she was looking at.
"Baby is awake," she said, indicating a movement. "Moving feet…here," she went on, looking back to Leia. "Normally, I'd tell you you'll be able to feel this in a week or two, but you already do."
Leia nodded.
"Yes," she said quietly.
She leaned her head back again, and rolled it to the side, looking at Han. He straightened up, giving her a smug look – a smug look with the appropriate amount of relief hiding in there somewhere.
"Well," Dr. Mellis drawled. "Han, in a few weeks, you should be able to feel movement," she said. She moved back a little, holding the sono wand in one hand, and held her palm out, wiggling her fingers at Han. "Give me," she said.
Han loosened one of his hands from Leia's and handed it over. Dr. Mellis pulled his hand closer to Leia, and pressed it right under her navel, applying gentle pressure. Han flattened his palm – Leia wasn't showing enough for it to be obvious, as long as she wore loose clothing, but there was a swell there that hadn't always been.
"As she gets further along, try here," she said. "Most partners tell me that's the easiest area to sense something."
Han nodded, concentrating.
"Feel anything?" Leia murmured.
Han tilted his head.
"Uh," he started. "Is it moving?" he asked.
Leia nodded. She pointed at the screen for him, so he could watch the slow, molasses-like movements on screen. Han finally shook his head, hesitantly pulling his hand back.
"Nah," he cleared his throat. "Not yet." He furrowed his brow. "What's it feel like?"
"Butterflies," Leia supplied. "Carbonation," she added.
"Oh, so like you feel when you look at me?" Han joked, smirking.
"No, I feel irritation when I look at you," Leia retorted swiftly.
He poked her in the arm, and she slapped her hand gently against his chest, laughing softly. She turned her head back to the screen, and pointed at some of the numbers.
"All of these are good?" she asked earnestly.
"Most of those don't have anything to do with health," Dr. Mellis said gently. "But, your blood pressure is right where it should be, and the rhythm is exactly what we want at eighteen weeks. I don't see anything to worry about."
She smiled, encouraging.
"What I'll do is take a few photos for you to keep," she explained. "I'll write current measurements on the back, and the most accurate due date I can project. I know you need that to set your maternity leave in order."
"You still have the same estimate?" Han asked gruffly.
"For the most part," Dr. Mellis said. "Leia's easy. She's the only patient I have who closely pinpoints her conception date for me," she laughed. "Though, babies work on their own schedule."
Dr. Mellis began to clean up the sono wand, and turned to tuck it away, beginning to give commands to the machine. Han sat back, crossing his arms and turning his head pointedly to Leia. She glanced at him through her lashes, compressing her lips, and Han gave her a look, arching his brows.
When? - he mouthed at her, exaggerating the word so she could read his lips. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. He crossed one leg over his knee, tapping his hand against his foot. W-h-e-n! – he demanded silently, intensely curious.
Leia feigned innocence, turning to look at the sonogram.
"She, uh, tell you when that was?" Han asked loudly, directing the question at Dr. Mellis.
"I had assumed you were there, Han," Dr. Mellis fired back smoothly.
Han narrowed his eyes at her back, and Leia smirked.
"Can you tell if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked.
Her eyes on the screen as she began measuring, Dr. Mellis paused, studying the image.
"Not with complete confidence until about twenty weeks," she answered. "Though I know what you're having. I read the genetic blood screens," she added. She turned to them. "Would you like to know? I thought you didn't."
Han pointed.
"She keeps calling it 'it,'" he accused. "So, I think we need – "
"No, we don't," Leia interrupted.
Han glared at her lightly.
Dr. Mellis looked interested.
"I thought maybe you knew with your," she nodded at Leia's head vaguely, "abilities."
"I think I will, when it's time," Leia offered, accepting the towel Dr. Mellis handed her to clean off the sono gel. "I think I was…starting to know, with the other," she murmured, looking up at Han. "But we don't care, do we?" she asked, uncertainty creeping into her tone.
"'Course not," Han said hastily.
Leia nodded.
"He just doesn't like calling it 'it,'" she said, handing off the towel with a murmur of thanks. She hesitated, looking at her abdomen a moment before she began to roll her blouse back down. "I don't think I can know until it knows," she reflected, "and it doesn't…have awareness of that sort of thing."
Leia looked up, shaking out the wrinkles in her blouse.
"It's just a lot of primitive, intense emotion – fear, or hunger, or fatigue," she listed – basic needs.
Dr. Mellis looked fascinated, and Leia blushed a little.
"I still need you," she assured her.
Mellis laughed.
"For some things," she agreed. "The Force won't be able to set an epidural for you, if you so choose. Though," she added, cocking her head curiously, "I suppose it might treat you better in the way of meditative techniques, if you decide to go the so-called natural way."
"So-called?" Leia quoted.
Dr. Mellis clapped her hands and stood up, sliding her stool away.
"I don't believe in that nonsense," she said simply. "Short of injuring the mother, there's no unnatural way to have a baby. Medical advancements are not unnatural, they offer choice, and comfort. You'll do what's right for you," she said firmly, "and I will respond to your wishes so that everything goes safely."
Han ran his hand over his shin, still leaning back in his chair. Leia nodded, and then turned to look at him.
"Make them give me the epidural," she said dryly, "even if I try to get brave."
"You're brave as hell, Leia," he retorted.
"Sweet-talker," she accused.
He flashed a grin at her, and Leia sat forward a little, bending her knees and pressing her bare heels into the cushion – her feet were prone to slight swelling now, and she'd taken her shoes off for the duration of the appointment.
"Arkadia," she said slowly. "Would you say I am in the clear to tell others?"
"That is up to you," Dr. Mellis said. "It's not for me to decide what you're comfortable with. I'm also not one to tell you to keep a pregnancy under wraps just in case it ends in a loss. You need support when you're mourning."
She crossed her arms.
"If it reassures you, though – again, you look fine. Healthy. And I think you can tell, deep down, this will go how you want it to."
She smiled wryly.
"On that note, do you think it would be cheating if I submitted a wager to the gambling houses concerning if you are pregnant, and how far along you are?" she asked. "Under a pseudonym of course."
Han snorted, and Leia made a face at the reminder – the Media; relentless, as always.
Dr. Mellis laughed, and uncrossed her arms.
"I'm going to head down to my tech room and get a few Holo-sonos for you," she said. "Should take about ten minutes. Do you have any questions?" Mellis looked between them expectantly, and Leia looked to Han, arching her brows. He shook his head, shrugging, and the doctor inclined her head pleasantly, and turned to go, leaving them alone moments later with the gentle click of the door.
Leia was still for a moment, and then sat forward, swinging her legs off the exam cushion and turning towards Han. Her ankles brushed together as her feet dangled, and he uncrossed his leg, leaning forward. Her placed his hands on her ribs lightly, his thumbs brushing her stomach, and took a deep breath.
Leia ran a hand through his hair, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple, sighing in relief.
"Han," she started thickly.
"I know, Sweetheart," he said giving the same sigh of relief. "I know."
"Thank the stars," she whispered, swallowing hard.
She had trusted her feelings as deep as they ran, yet still, the doctor's confirmation that all was well meant everything to her. The apprehension she'd felt just walking into this appointment evaporated, but for a brief moment, running her hands over Han's neck and shoulders, she took some time to think of her mother, and appreciate her strength.
Han lifted his head, and brushed his knuckles under her jaw, smiling at her.
"How're you feeling?" she asked.
"Me?" he retorted, raising his eyebrow. "What about you, you're the one – "
"Han," she said his name again, softly. "It's starting to get so real."
He hushed up a little, and nodded.
"Yeah," he agreed, lifting his shoulders. He pressed his palms together, and then rested his chin on his fingertips. "'M feelin' pretty good, Your Worship," he said. "You?"
She nodded fervently.
"It's felt like getting to this moment of…confidence," she said, "has been slow, but now it's going to move so fast," she murmured.
Han nodded again –he could see that, could see time colliding, day after day, until forty weeks – which seemed like an eternity – was really no time at all, and the baby would be here, and he'd be able to have the same tangible relationship Leia already had.
She pressed her palms on either side of her thighs and leaned forward, staring at him. He tilted his head.
"We can start tellin' people, yeah?" he asked.
Leia smirked dryly.
"You know most of the people who matter already guessed," she snorted. "Father's not stupid. Luke senses it. Chewbacca smells it," she sighed, feigning consternation. "I accidentally told Carlist. Mon Mothma probably figured it out; I've taken several mornings off, or gone home early."
Han glared at her.
"Oh, and Tavska, she's in charge of my schedule, and it's the same pattern, more or less, as last time. I can't hide anything from Winter. Pooja noticed I stopped drinking; she probably told the entire Naberrie clan her suspicions – oh, and Mara knows – "
"Leia," Han grumbled. "Leia!" he stopped her, furrowing his brow with a smirk. "Hey, the point is, they don't officially know."
She bit her lip.
"Are you angry?" she asked quietly. "That – there were people, who knew before you?"
She had never really asked, or explicitly told him that was the truth – but Han would have known that Luke and Chewbacca, particularly, would have figured it out. And is it had gone longer and longer, after his retirement, and Leia hadn't revealed anything, Bail had gotten restless, dropping thinly veiled hints about his increasing suspicions while Han feigned ignorance and Leia just rolled her eyes at them all.
Han shook his head.
"I like how I found out," he said huskily, sincerity written all over his face. He lifted a hand, and pointed at her. "Next time, though, I wanna be first." He arched his eyebrow menacingly. "I wanna know the night it happens – night, yeah?" he said, fishing for information.
Leia shoved his hand away, tilting her head back and laughing. Han squeezed her knee, making her jump, give a soft shriek, and pull her knees up, grinning at him.
"Or not night?" he tried, giving her a look of concentration, lifting his hand and ticking down fingers as if to count back weeks. "C'mon, you at least gotta tell me if it was on the Falcon – I'll give the old girl a real good clean – "
"Han," she laughed, lunging forward and taking his face in her hands. "Does it matter, does it really matter?" she asked, her voice softening. She ran her fingers over his jaw. "We're having a baby," she said. "You, and me."
Han nodded. He reached up to touch her wrist gingerly, running his thumb over her pulse. Impulsively, he pulled her down into his lap, tilting his chin up, his nose inches away from hers. She didn't much care that they were still in the exam room; she was happier than she imagined she'd be in this moment, and Han was looking at her in that way he had.
"What are you thinking?" she murmured.
He leaned forward and kissed her collarbone.
"'M thinkin," he said slowly, "it's a damn good thing I came back to get you on Hoth."
Leia smiled, and slid her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. She pressed her nose against his temple, taking a deep breath to savor the moment, and gave a small nod – because that about summed it up. It was a damn good thing he had come back to get her on Hoth – and then some.
-alexandra
story #376