"Stay here, darling."
That was the last thing her father had told her when they had heard the screams echo across the Jedi Academy. It was hardly the time to ask questions when she saw the crowds of people running through the giant piazza from outside the windows. She watched as her father take his lightsaber and she trailed behind him in confusion.
"Listen to me. You have to stay where you are, okay? I'll come back for you." He knelt down to her height, brushing a strand of her unkempt hair behind her ears, "Stay where you are, sweetheart."
The sound of his soft and calm voice made her nod her head with great fervor. But when minutes had passed, and hours had passed, the little girl had began to worry. She knew that when her father had left, he would have come back for her shortly. It had never been like this. So, the child picked up her toys, trying to find some way of distracting herself. She then tried to find some way to communicate with her father like they had often done for fun. No response.
"He'll be back for us," She told the doll she rocked in her arms, "Daddy's a hero. That's what heroes do."
Banging. Rustling. More banging. Without any further thought, she stood up, immediately finding herself standing face to face with a curious masked figure. She eyed the crumbled ruins of the once sturdy wooden door he had just broken down and studied the figure who was standing before her. He had an unusual lightsaber, a design she had never seen before. It crackled loudly in her ears and the redness of its color glistened in the dark room.
"Get out of here, young Skywalker." He bluntly told her, the volume of his voice raising with each word, "I said get out of here!"
She reached for the practice lightsaber that was on the ground before the masked figure had flung it away from her. She gasped, looking at the figure in fear.
"Who are you?" She whimpered out, "Why are you doing this?"
He hesitated for just a moment. He slightly crouched from his tall frame, extinguishing his lightsaber. She could hear the sound of his erratic breathing and she watched him pound his chest three or four times in a row. He let out a guttural sound, the sound of a beast in anguish.
The young girl slowly inched towards him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"You're scared," She plainly told him, the wisdom of all her five years was surely not responsible for such an observation. His breathing grew irregular again and Breha watched as he stormed out of the room angrily with his ignited lightsaber.
"Breha!" The sound of a familiar voice caused the five-year-old girl to turn around, as the sight of a familiar face made her cry the tears she had been holding in.
"Uncle Han," She cried out, running towards him with no regard for any obstruction in the way. She was sobbing by the time he had caught her in his arms. She had seen and heard too much for a child of her age. A group of strange masked figures had terrorized the village she called home, had burned down all their dwellings, and had heard the anguished cries and screams of her own neighbors and friends as the masked figures hunted them down in cold blood.
"Shh, don't cry, kid," He patted her on the back as he quickly carried her away from the building, "I'm here. Uncle Han's here."
"Daddy," She tearfully said, in between the hiccups, "He told me to stay here."
"It's not safe here." He told her simply, "Auntie Leia wanted me to come and get you."
"Where's Daddy? Where's Mama?" She kept asking and Han couldn't find the words. How could he tell her the sight he had seen when he had run into the little girl's burning home. The terrible sight of the woman he called his sister-in-law against the back of a wall. He had to pry the blaster that was clamped in her sweaty hands.
"I forgive him." She had whispered with the last of her breath, confirming Han's worse fears. A warm smile swept across her hardened face, "Find her, find Bre-Breha."
Han didn't need to be told to find the child. He nodded, leaning forward and kissing the top of the dying woman's forehead. He bit his lower lip, finding it hard to keep his cool when he knew that a fifteen year old boy was responsible for all this. Han was worried. Han was scared but worse of all, he felt guilty for the deeds of that boy.
"No...time..." Her words were staggered. She paused for a second, realizing the thing Han would dread to have to do. No, she wouldn't ask that of him, "Go..."
"I'll find her." He nodded, jolting up and reaching for the blaster in his holster, "I promise. I'll find her before he does."
So there he had been, carrying little Breha Skywalker onto the Millennium Falcon without a second glance back. He ran up the ramp of the ship, shouting directions for Chewbacca. As they steered away from destruction that laid behind them, Han Solo knew that worse things were yet to come.
A/N: Summer vacation is officially here and I just wanted to write. I just wanted to get back into writing and it's been so long, I fear I've been out of practice! However, I wanted to share this, regardless of whether I am going to expand this fanfiction or edit through it thoroughly. Also an explanation for Rey's birth name. It's kinda my headcanon that Han and Leia had Luke name their kid and in return, Luke had Han and Leia name his kid. Anyways, thank you for reading! Please do review!
