A/N: Another chapter! And not several weeks apart! Please review.
"Goodnight, Han."
In the midst of a slightly sorrowful day, a huge party full of diplomats, entertainers, and the like, Han Solo was completely worn out.
"'Night, Breha. Tell Leia goodnight for me," he replied, shuffling back to his room, flat-footed. He was half undressed by the time he had reached his door, more than eager to leap into bed and call it a day. He smiled weakly when he laid eyes on his bed.
A few minutes later, and he was tucked securely between the down feather comforter and pillows, his small body sinking into the mattress. However, Han soon discovered that he was not able to find sleep. Feeling as sluggish as ever, he crossed his arms behind his head in a casual manner, and tried to get himself to "count the nerfs" as Aunt Tia was always saying.
On nerf number thirty-seven, which he imagined to have gray stripes and orange flecks in its fur, Han didn't feel the difference. As a matter of fact, he felt more and more awake with each outrageously patterned nerf.
It was in his boredom that he noticed a small patch of silver moonlight cast across his floor, illuminating the wing of a toy starfighter that he had left there. Han stared, fixated, at the brightness that looked as though it were conveying a great sadness. The very shade of the moonshine was just. . . Indescribably melancholy.
A fresh amount of his interest piqued, Han ventured over to the window that the light was coming from. It was months before when Han had realized the brilliant view that he had - a lake, expansive and wonderfully clear, was spread far out between the mountains. If ever he looked through the window, it allowed him to see every inch of the glassy lake which conveniently enough reflected the moon.
Tonight, Han observed, the moon was a crescent, having just passed over new moon a few nights ago. The thin sliver was beautiful to him in a strange kind of way, because it rippled slowly on the lake below. The constance of it all was somehow comforting.
It was comforting, really, because of the fact that neither the lake, nor the moon, nor the snow-capped mountain peaks would be disappearing soon. Each of them came back every morning and every night. Han liked knowing that they would never change, always stay. He liked that the moon, no matter where you saw it from, was the same, and that the mountains were always in precisely one direction.
He only wished the people could be the same way.
It had been weeks since Leia's "announcement" party, and she had quickly proved that she was difficult child in some of the strangest areas. She refused to nap, preferring to play or roam around the nursery long hours into the night. She was fussy about diaper changes, which was why Bail had personally assigned Threepio the job. Leia seemed to take a liking to the droid that Han could not understand.
Other than late nights and a lack of normal sleep, Leia was cooperative and an overall pleasing child. Yet at the times when she did go to sleep, it was never very peaceful for very long. When Han saw Breha or Bail in the morning, both looked slightly more haggard than they had the previous day, mostly caused by the intense, and yet unexplained, bouts of crying Leia sometimes had during the night.
Every night since the party, Leia would suddenly awaken in the middle of the night, screaming and crying. At the worst of times, Han could hear the fuss going on a floor above him as people scurried to hush the little Princess. No one, least of all Han, understood why the baby had such inconsolable episodes.
Hence, today was the day a specialist would be examining Leia's condition, and hopefully prescribing a treatment. Doctor Cerean, a child specialist of some sort, arrived an hour after breakfast. Han though that he looked far older than Bail, probably into his sixties, and was mostly bald, a small patch of white hair gathering behind his ears and above the nape of his neck. Despite his lack of hair on his head, there was enough to make up for it in his eyebrows, mustache, and cropped beard.
The entire family was present when the doctor was conducting his examination. Leia made not a sound as he lit up her nostrils, mouth, and ears. She was always a good child in front of those she didn't know.
"Physically, Your Majesty, the Princess is as healthy as ever. I think that the root of the problem lies in her mind," stated Cerean without thinking who he was in the presence of.
"Whaddaya mean?" Han snapped, "She ain't crazy!"
Even though the Organas hushed him, they seemed to agree.
"No, no! No, of course not! What I mean to say, is that maybe she is, pardon me, having "nightmare" from a severe memory or trauma. Some child psychologists have researched certain theories that some babies can carry memories from the womb or of their parents. Some of the more dubious sources believe that infants can even remember things from "heaven," if there is one.
"Of course, that's quite far fetched. However, it is plausible that Her Highness does recall some things while in the womb. Perhaps if there was stress inflicted on Your Majesty while you carried her?" He addressed Breha now.
There was a pause as the Queen thought through her stories quickly. "Of course there were stressful times, doctor. Do you really think that this is the cause of Princess Leia's nighttime episodes?"
Cerean stroked his beard contemplatively for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I do. Unfortunately there's no definite treatment for this sort of subconscious thing, especially for a child as young as Her Highness. But at the same time, I don't think that you'll really need to worry about that much longer. These nightmares of hers should fade within a few months, if not a few weeks.
"The best thing, I think, would be feeding the Princess traditional sedative herbs in some sort of formula. I'll compose a list of things."
"Thank you very much, Doctor."
"Of course, Your Highness."
Throughout the session, Han had been thoroughly skeptical of the doctor and his theories. What kind of hokey business did he run anyway? Sadly, Han had been assured by Bail and Breha that the doctor knew what he was doing.
"Grown ups," Han mumbled under his breath as the rest of the family left. Nial, who was still in the room, heard his friend's quiet scoffing.
"Yeah, I know," the other boy shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe the doctor's right."
"Whatever. I don't think any herbs are gonna help, that's all." He ventured over to Leia's crib. Her round brown eyes looked at him with an amused kind of curiosity. When he gently ran his fingers across her stomach, she giggled adorably.
"Hey, Princess." It was the name he'd gotten used to calling her, firstly because it was a kind of nickname for girls, and second because it was her true title. Leia smiled toothlessly, her arm flailing enthusiastically. "You try to sleep better, huh?"
"You hungry?" Nial's stomach growled. Han started laughing - they'd had breakfast a few hours ago.
"You must have a black hole for a stomach. Sure, I'll get a snack. Maybe Goldenrod will let me have some honeycrust."
"But Master Han, I have heard honeycrust is not healthy for your teeth," Nial said in a high, girly voice. "I do not want to allow you to get cavities, because after all, it is in my programming to serve humans and understand their behavior, along with being a total nerfherder!"
Han was laughing at Nial's almost perfect impression of Threepio all the way down to the kitchens.
