"I'd have a fic(let) request - from your Orbit verse (maybe), Leia getting pregnant just before/shortly after Ben's first birthday. I feel like you could do an amazing job on that haha (if you don't want to it's fine just thought I'd ask)."
Background on Orbit is really not necessary – all you need to know is that they have the canonical Endor baby and that Leia has a bit of an identity crisis when he's born.
Exceptional Leia
"Ma-a-ama!"
"Hey Lei? Where'd you get off to?"
"Just a second!" she called, and she locked the 'fresher door behind her before removing the home test from its ten-minute hiding place in the center of the tissue roll and held it in both of her hands and looked at it – and sat on the lid of the sani and looked at it – and pressed her lips together and looked at it – and shook it a bit and looked at it, and looked, and looked.
"Ma-ma…"
(And then Han's voice, chattering to him, all animated and enthusiastic and distracting, probably swinging him around…)
This new thing – this talking thing – proving quite a – significant development, in their lives, in her life – being called, so transparently – and now, sitting here, looking at it, trying to look at it as Leia and hearing Mama, Mama– oh… trying to think about it as Leia, how Leia would feel – Mama! Ma-a-ama!
Pregnant. Pregnant, again. Pregnant, again, now. Again, now, today––
"Sweetheart––?"
She swaddled – wrapped, wrong choice of words, wrapped – the test in tissue and shoved it into the waste basket beside her before washing her heads and calling quickly, "Coming!"
And then she was up and at it and on – striding out of the 'fresher and clapping her hands together and sing-songing, "Hi, 'loved, hi – don't worry, I didn't go far! I'm sorry!" before sweeping the baby out of Han's arms and planting a kiss on his temple. "Didn't go far – I didn't go far!" Another kiss, bouncing him and beaming at him when he giggled and clapped. "How're you doing, huh? Are you excited for your party? Baby?" A rush in her ears – baby-baby-baby… She shoved it way back. "Huh? Are you excited?
Han chuckled, leaning back on the couch, and she shot him a look. "Sorry I just – mm, Ambassador-Senator-General-Princess, such a fuckin' mommy, who would've thought…"
"I am not a mommy." She meant it to sound playful and as an afterthought she shifted the baby to her hip all dramatically, but it came out sounding just a bit sharp instead. I am not "such a fuckin' mommy." I cannot have become merely "such a fuckin' mommy," I…
If Han noticed the sharpness, he didn't indicate it, and instead gave her a cheeky grin. "Dunno – baby on your hip, kid-talk babble, baked a cake from scratch today…"
Baby-baby-baby – mommy, such a mommy…
"Flour smudged all over your pants…."
"Oh, sounds very glamorous," Leia sing-songed to Ben, tapping his nose and trying to keep her voice light and sweet and even. On. "What do you think? Does he like it? I think he likes it."
And yes, there he was, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her small waist – kissing the baby's head, earning a da-a-addy, and then pressing a hot kiss to her neck. Growling low, teasing, playful, "I love it."
Yes – he loved it, he loved it – and didn't she love it too? Didn't she love flicking red and blue dye into frosting she'd made herself and twirling it into purple – didn't she love how it felt to sit in that chair he'd assembled with Ben in her lap, whispering the words to a board book and smiling soft as the baby eagerly pressed his fingertips to the pictures – feeling him fall asleep pressed up against her, his warm hand by her breast, hearing him whimper when she left a room like she was his world – didn't she love the sound of screeching laughter from the 'fresher when Han inevitably turned bathtime into an elaborate adventure?
She loved it, he loved it – and regardless – but regardless – another baby would… would what? Wasn't she rushing to conclusions – and why did it feel like having another baby would be to say she was happy and if she didn't she wasn't… just because she loved being Ben's mother didn't mean she – another baby, now – and just because she loved Ben didn't mean she loved being – "such a fuckin' mommy," what if she didn't love being such a fuckin' mommy, for months and months she had done everything but loved it, lived in a fog of purposelessness – she couldn't, wouldn't go back to that, she couldn't…
Two babies was so different from one baby, it was so – being the mother – mama – mommy, ugh, what a word – to two babies was so different from being Leia Organa who also had a young son – and she was working so hard to find a way to be Leia Organa who also had a young son… another baby now, when her body had finally begun to feel like her body again, another baby – now…
He loved it, she was selfish, she felt sick. Was she going to be sick? She'd give away her hand if she got sick, and she needed to figure out exactly how she was going to tell Han before anything else.
Han. Han. Arms still around her waist, content and simple, had only a second gone by? Arms – his hand on the spot on her waist above her right hip, his thumb moving back and forth ever so slightly on the nearby plane of her stomach – maybe not now right, not right now, nope, no, no, no––
And then perfectly in sync, she and the baby straightened up and smiled faintly; a second later they heard the chime of the door. "That'll be your uncle," she said to him, all sunshine, her heart pounding hard, no-no, no-no, no-no, would pound pregnant if the emphasis were on the right syllable, and she could feel it pounding too when there they were, their meager collection of friends and family – Chewie, Luke, Wedge, Kirin, Carlist, a few other stragglers – around the plain cake with plain purple frosting and one candle, the baby on her hip, his fist holding tight to her hair, singing Happy birthday dear Be-en… She remembered all of her birthday cakes, towering, tiered concoctions with pure-white frosting and blue fondant flowers… the picture of her at her first birthday in some frilly white thing, cake all over her face, little curls at her ears, all laughs, her mother kissing her cheek, her father kissing the top of her head… her parents had been such parents, her life had been so full, she'd been given a life so full… her mother had carried so many children and she had never felt ambivalent about a single one of them…
"Ha-a-appy birthday to you!" She sang the last line in the baby's ear and the tickle of her breath bringing back the smile that had faltered from being crowded. Sensitive, sensitive – her parents had been such parents, such a fuckin' mommy… her baby, so sensitive… Leia Organa's young son…
"Make a wish, buddy!"
"Ben, blow out the candle!"
Too much noise, again, and too much pressure – Ben's face was back home against her neck, though she could feel the small, shy smile on his face. "Sweetie? Would you like to blow out your candle?" she murmured, and at her voice he pulled his face away. His eyes looking up at her beseechingly, their own little world so private, so perfect the way it was… "Blow it out with Mama, come on now."
And to everyone's delight, when she bent him over the two of them blew out the candle together, his eyes alight at the thrill of everyone else being pleased with him. She showered his face in kisses, hands holding him beginning to quiver – "You're so big now! You've gotten so big!" And everyone saw that she loved him, that they were their own little world, and were pleased with them.
Later, sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch, chatting with Kirin and picking at the remains of her cake, she was longing for a drink – declining a glass of wine had been hopelessly difficult, she'd never needed a drink more than now, never ever. In fact, she was so busy longing for a drink that she hardly noticed the baby crawling rapidly across the floor from his uncle and father until Kirin laughed and called out, "Princess, I think you have a visitor!"
There he was, cake all over his face, smiling at her shy. Always like that – like he wasn't sure she'd take him into her arms and hug him, like it was always such a pleasant, perfect surprise that she was his mother. "Oh! Hello!" she said, making her face a little parody of shock. "I missed you!"
And she brought him into her lap and kissed the top of his head and squirmed only a little when he stood up on her thighs to try to pry a lock of her hair from her tightly coiled braids – "Hold on, baby, here, here…" She carefully, fully unwound a piece of her hair from her left braided bun, the strands long enough to hit the floor when sitting, and Ben wound it around his left hand and curled up against her, content, while she went back to her conversation.
As she and Kirin chatted about diasporic feminist politics she could hear, on the other side of the room, Wedge and Han chatting as they attempted to assemble the as-always much-too-much gift Luke had procured for his nephew. (She was more of a coloring and wooden blocks type of mother, whereas Luke as an uncle seemed to know the latest baby-related gadget… was that because she'd grown up with everything and still enjoyed these more basic pursuits while Luke had spent his whole childhood coveting? But Han had had so little and he wasn't big on flashiness either… maybe because he'd transported not-inexpensive crap for such not-inexpensive people… or…) Wedge then, not judgemental, just observant: "S'in a bit of a mommy phase, huh?"
She could hear Han snort but tried to keep her eyes on Kirin, on trying to wipe Ben's face. "His whole life's been one big mommy phase."
"He'll grow out of it," Wedge said amicably.
"Yeah, we're not worried. Dunno, I think it's pretty cute." She could hear, too, Han taking a swig of his beer, and she was certain her mouth was literally watering… a drink, a drink, a–– "S'pretty hard on Leia though."
"Really? 'Cause they seem like they're their own little world."
Han grunted. "She deserves to be able to use the 'fresher with him on her ankle, or read a novel or whatever. Have a drink. Take a break."
Have a drink! Have a drink… take a break… maybe he would understand? Maybe…
Take a break, she could use a break, but her mother had never taken a break, her mother had never longed for a drink. Her mother had carried so many children and she had never felt ambivalent about a single one of them…
"Either way. You guys seem like you've got it made."
She could sense Han's crooked, genuine smile even if she couldn't see it. "Yeah? You think so?" Sounding optimistic and shockingly earnest.
"Yeah." Wedge patting him on the back in that way men did. "Domestic bliss, all that? I uh…" Voice very low, then, but she'd always had excellent hearing, "I know it was rough for a bit there, but… you guys seem really, really happy."
"Huh. Glad to hear that." His casual, understated tone, his nonchalant tucked head. "S'all her. Amazing mom."
"Yeah, that's obvious."
She leaned back so she was gazing at him from upside down, smiling at them, on, on, on. "Tha-ank you." Kissing the baby's hair as he squealed from being bent backwards, dipping him again so he practically screamed. Domestic bliss. Really, really happy. Amazing mom. "Can you say that? Can you say 'tha-a-a-ank you, Daddy'? Say 'tha-a-a-ank you, Daddy'…"
"Tay Daddy! Ta-ay da – Mama!" Rocking him almost all the way to upside down again, listening to him squeal. Her hands were shaking hard, her smile was huge. Was she overdoing it?
Han, for his part, snorted. "Sure you turned down that drink, sweetheart?" Yes, she'd overdone it.
"Just relishing in my domestic bliss," she said from upside down over the baby's squeals, flashing him a sparkling smile.
Han frowned. She'd overdone it. "Careful, Lei. S'got a stomach full of birthday cake."
She made a show of sighing and righting the two of them before scooping up the baby and standing up, collecting plates. "It was good, wasn't it?"
Chewie roared his agreement, and Luke called out, "So good, Leia! Where'd you learn to bake like that? You're amazing."
"Oh, it's actually a recipe in the Mommy Handbook?" she said, bopping Ben on the nose for his attention and then counting into his ear – one, two, three… – each plate she picked up. "Yes, right when you give birth, they present you with this very extensive flimsi, everything you need to be just the perfect housewife – sorry, homemaker. And you know, it was apparently quite a hassle for them to find me on a remote military base, but they did manage it…" Her voice had come out a bit sharper than she intended, and it showed on everyone else's faces… oh…
"Alright, alright, point taken. It was really good though."
"Thank you," she said tightly – four, five… all of this bending and dipping was not agreeing with her stomach – "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
She managed to hold off on vomiting until everyone had cleared out, but when she did it was spectacular: kneeling as the baby cried for her outside the door, staring at awful purple liquid cake chunks, upchucked remains of the icing she'd dyed so carefully his favorite hue. It took her a second to realize she was crying – soundlessly, maybe just from the acid taste and ache in her throat, but there were definitely a few hot tears running down her face, then more than a few.
"Sweetheart?" A few hard raps on the door. "Y'alright in there?"
"Fine!" She gagged again and whimpered. She could feel the wrapped-up, not-swaddled test in the bin like it had a Force presence, burning in the back of her brain, searing her. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant – the emphasis on the wrong syllable, a heartbeat in reverse, skipped up, all panicked. Pregnant, wife – wife, mommy – mommy, babies – babies, two babies, two babies before she turned twenty-six. Telling High Command – telling Mon – that she'd need another leave. Looking in Mon's eyes and telling her she'd have two babies before she was twenty-six – you're an incredibly impressive young woman, Leia. Not that there was anything wrong with that – with having two babies back to back, so young. For other people, maybe.You have exceptional promise. Asking for another leave – another leave, and before that the exhaustion, the unwieldiness, the inability to fly. To be taken seriously as a diplomat by foreign powers. But she had never been other people.
"Ma-a-ma…"
"Leia?" More raps. "You sick?"
"The cake – the cake didn't agree with me," she called back, struggling to keep her voice composed. She wiped her mouth, flushed the sani, and brushed her teeth quickly. "I think the Mommy Handbook listed the recipe wrong…"
He was right outside the door when she opened it, the increasingly anxious baby on his hip, frowning and suspicious. "You okay? You want some water?"
"I'm fine." She met Ben's eyes and forced a smile. "Hi, 'loved, don't worry, I didn't go far – hey, did you get that thing from Luke all set up?" And she held out her arms expectantly for the baby.
Instead, Han shifted Ben to his other hip, bouncing him a little."Yeah, we did – you sure you're alright?"
"I'm really fine – you were right, it was all that rocking." Smiling at the baby again, a little desperately. "All that rocking, right honey? Guess you can hold your cake better than I can."
She held out her arms again and this time he passed her the baby, who immediately wrapped the same lock of hair tightly around his hand. She held him close and walked over to the couch. Pregnant. Pregnant. Promise. Pregnant. She sat down and clutched the baby, let him press his face to her neck and hold too tight to her hair… Exceptional promise. Mommy. Amazing mother. Exceptional mommy.
"Princess…" Han's voice, softer now. More awkward, too. He was lingering in the entrance to the room, looking at her. "Were you – um. You look like you've been crying."
"Me?" Her voice sounded strangled. "No. No."
He moved slowly, casually, but then he was sitting beside her, real concern on his face. "Something's wrong."
She smiled at him as Ben continued to thread his fingers through her hair, slowly unraveling the fronts of the braids into some soft frizzy nest. "Nothing's wrong, honey."
"Yes it is. You're lying to me."
"Nothing is wrong." And she held Ben tighter and willed herself to believe it. "I – nothing is wrong, Han."
"Leia, you're spooking me––"
She shut her eyes and whispered it into the baby's hair. I think I might be pregnant again.
"What was that?"
"I think I might be pregnant again." Her lips an inch above Ben's head, her eyes open but focusing on the baby's hair intensely. What would she do when he could understand her? Who would she whisper her secrets to?
She could feel Han take a deep breath. "Is that so," he said, very slow, even and unreadable as ever.
"I mean I'm not sure but… I did take a home test."
"I thought you had––"
"I did. I mean, I do. I mean, presumably it's still – in there, but."
She looked up at him, finally. He was looking at her thoughtfully. "But," he echoed.
She shrugged slowly and he smiled a little bit at her and kissed her softly, lingering there. Lips so close to hers. Looking at her eyes closely as if by looking close enough he could read her mind. He wasn't the first to try.
She broke first and flicked her eyes down to where the baby had fallen asleep against her, hand still clutching tight to her hair. She kissed the top of his head, she couldn't stop doing that, it felt so right, it felt so…
He exhaled again and put his arm around her lightly. "Huh."
Leia looked up. "Is that all you're going to say?" Her voice sounded hoarse, too needy.
His mouth twitched. "S'this why you were crying?"
"I wasn't – crying, I was––"
"Sweetheart, look, just––"
"I wasn't crying. I wasn't." She shook her head. "I wouldn't – I wouldn't cry."
He nodded slowly and the inside of her head was screaming Say something! Say something! At them both, at either of them, really – somebody, say something!
She stroked Ben's back and tried to make an improbable return to the land of sleep schedules and mothering. "Oh… he must be so exhausted…" Shifting a bit – "I wouldn't want us to wake him. I'll go put him down." And then get into bed and put a pillow over my head and close my eyes for seventeen hours…
"I got it."
"No, it's fine, I––"
"S'lifting, Lei."
"Oh." She felt something collapse inside of her. What would she do if she couldn't carry him? What would she carry?
He took the baby from her gently, still watching her as she worked to pry his fingers from her hair, and headed off to Ben's bedroom. She regretted this immediately, felt so exposed without him splayed across her lap. Mommy, mommy. Exceptional promise.
She could hear Han murmuring in the other room to the sleepy child, reassuring him back into sleep. A part of her wished he would pick her up, too, and put her to bed, promise everything was alright, let her sleep easy for so many hours. A pillow over her head for just in case she started crying.
Then he was back, sitting close to her, hand on her knee, thumb stroking, looking at her.
"Did he give you trouble?" she asked softly.
"Mm-mm. No trouble." His voice soft, too. Gentle, cautious.
"Good." Then she bit her lip and said nothing.
After a moment: "So. You wanna tell me how long you've known?"
"Just today, just – earlier, just before the party – I – my period, and I just. Had a hunch."
He nodded slow. "Uh-huh. And do you know how far––?"
"Not far along I don't think."
Another nod, slower still. Watching her very, very cautiously before saying, "So there's still a lotta – options, then."
Her hands immediately flew up to her face and then his arms were tight around her, holding her close, whispering frantically, "Hey-hey-hey, no-no-no, no, hey – just 'cause you seem so spooked, sweetheart, hey, that's the only reason I would ever suggest – hey, hey-hey, I love you, shh…" Rocking her gently… "Shh, Leia, shh…"
"I'm fine," she insisted into his shirt, her throat tight, her voice strangled. "I'm fine, I'm just – feeling a little – emotional, is all. You're right, I am a bit – spooked." She pulled back away from him and rubbed her eyes. "But I'm fine. Really."
"We uh – we don't have to talk about this right now, alright?" This voice, then, the tip-toeing voice, the I-don't-wanna-set-you-off voice, the one for when he didn't think she was being rational but wanted her to feel she was being taken seriously. "You must be – you're probably feeling like shit, we just had a bunch of people over – can go lie down, I'll finish cleaning up."
"How do you know I'm still feeling like shit?" She said it very delicately, all stiffness and angles.
He shrugged. "Dunno, last time it'd hit you bad this part of the day, at the start, so."
Last time. Right. A little under two years ago. She'd been pregnant or the mother of a less-than-year-old baby for almost two years. She would be pregnant or the mother of a less-than-year-old baby for another two years.
"I don't know how you can stand it," she said suddenly, looking anywhere but at him. "Not knowing where I'm at – I feel like I'm going to explode."
"Explode…?"
"Waiting. To know. Where you're at."
"Didn't realize you were – waitin' for something."
"Oh, I don't know, Han, I told you that I'm – that we might have another child, I guess I was waiting to hear whether that appealed to you or not," she snapped, almost without realizing it.
He was trying very hard to be patient, she could tell. "Of course that appeals to me – love you, love Ben, I'd love – any kid that ended up joining us, I – feel like that's sort of a given. Feel like you know that."
"So you'd – you think we should…?" She swallowed and looked at him evenly. "You think we should have another baby."
"S'not…" He shook his head. "I – hm. I just. I feel like the question isn't do-we-want-another-kid-or-not, it's…"
"Now," she supplied easily, and he frowned and shook his head slightly like she was sort-of, not quite right… was she being crazy? Was it not so soon? A little under two years apart, that was – fairly normal, she supposed? Was this a thing women did, this four year commitment to babies inside them or clinging to them, was she crazy, did he think she was crazy?
(Babies inside them – immediately she felt that old rush of fear she'd had almost two years ago, the one about genetics and twins, twins…)
"Yeah, that," Han was saying, "and also that – last time – " She wished he'd stop saying that, last time, last time, as if there were a whole litany of times she'd been pregnant to which he might be referring, "Last time was really – hard. On you." Before she could react he'd plowed ahead, continuing, "And now with Ben and this whole Mommy thing, it just seems like, for you – I mean the kid can barely stand you putting him down––"
"Hard on me?"
He looked surprised at her surprise. "Yeah, like – physically I mean. Physically." Tripping over his words to correct himself as her mouth pressed into a firm line. Right so physically and then also there was that three or four month period of crippling depression immediately after his birth. "I mean you were – real sick, during the first part, and then fuck the whole thing when he was born… when they weren't sure if you'd pull through, I just..." He shook his head.
"Right," she said tightly. Hard on me. Crazy. Four years. Mommy. Exceptional. Exceptional mommy.
"I mean that was…" Shaking his head again. "Fuck Leia, I've never been so scared, I… shit."
"Right," she repeated.
"So with that, I just…"
"Well, I don't know." Her voice was tense, broken, not her own. "I mean, don't let me get in your way… I would hate to feel like I'm – depriving you of something, I…"
"Hey, don't go twisting my words like that, you know that's not what I said."
"No, I just – if I knew your – reservations were something as small as 'hard on me,' I'd––"
"Leia, just quit it."
"I'm not trying to be cruel, I'm being serious. I want to know what you're thinking and feeling, this was – helpful for me, I'm sorry if I gave an impression otherwise, I really am, Han, really." She kissed his cheek quickly and tried to look genuine. "I really… I'm really – flattered – I'm moved, I think. That you would want to have more children with me."
He gave her a funny look, looking completely taken aback. "'Course I would. You're my wife, and I love you."
Suddenly her face felt very hot and her throat very tight. I would. You're my wife. I love you. I love you so I would. I would if I loved you. If I loved you, I would. She cleared her throat. "I… I think I'm going to take you up on your offer. To finish cleaning up, so I can lie down for a little while. If that's still okay?"
"'Course it is." He kissed her forehead warmly, soothingly. "We'll figure this out, alright? Love you so much."
She kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand and forced a weak, watery small and hoped he believed it. "And I you." 'Course I would. You're my wife. I love you. I would, I love you. I love you, I know. I love you, I would. And slipped out of the room and into their bed. And willed herself to fall asleep for seventeen hours and wake up Leia Organa and know what to do. And tugged the covers up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut and placed his pillow over her head, just in case she cried. And willed herself to fall asleep for seventeen hours and wake up Leia Organa and know what to do.
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