A lighter, shorter chapter to bridge us into the last two events before our story wraps.

10: Liftoff

"Han?" Leia called with a strained voice over the sound of Ben's shrieking. She looked over at him, raising her eyebrows as she bounced the baby a bit more urgently, and Luke gave his sister a sympathetic look. She looked exhausted, there was no denying that, and the fact that Ben had been irater than Luke had ever seen his nephew surely had a whole lot to do with that. But there was also something strangely familiar about the quick rhythmic patting of the baby's back, almost like the way he'd seen her check the safety on a blaster or order a line of strikes – the epitome of Leia-ness, being an expert. Funny, maybe, that everything else he could think of that Leia was an expert at just happened to be part of the war-machine. But still. As she called out, "How much longer, do you think?" and made a show of rolling her eyes while moving to swoop Ben from side to side, she looked like – well. She looked like she knew what she was doing.

"J'second, sweetheart––!" Han, calling, then, plus Chewie roaring skeptically.

Leia made a peeved face, even though she knew as well as he did that Han was mostly just being paranoid about the baby flying for the first time and was checking everything over on the ship about a hundred times too many – or maybe because of that fact, 'cause he supposed that kind of thing could be grating against a backdrop of endless hours of baby hysterics, when to Luke it was mostly just endearing.

But of course – it couldn't be easy for Leia, in general, given the occasion. Honestly, he could've forgotten that Endor would be their second stop, not their first, given how quiet she had been about their actual first destination. In fact, all she'd really said about it was to remind him to bring formal clothes.

Second destination: Endor, for the one-year anniversary of the destruction of the second Death Star. First destination: an Alderaanian refugee camp, for the sixth anniversary of the planet's destruction. Leia had asked them to accompany her, very quietly – the first time she'd done a visit for the anniversary, since it'd been full-on wartime the years before. There'd been so many years of him and Han and Chewie sitting with her through that date, trying to keep her occupied, that it only occurred to him this year that this was less than ideal – that ideally, she'd want to be with her people. The few of them that remained.

When she'd asked, his first thought, honestly, had been – me, too? So much of Leia's life these days seemed segmented off, into her and Han – there was definitely a time when they'd been a threesome, a foursome, and even when Han and Leia were together before the baby it'd been like that, honestly, that is, he'd been there for Ben's birth and everything – but for four months they'd been so very much – their own thing. Their own little family.

But of course she was his sister, his sister who was Alderaanian – it was hard not to split sister-Leia and Alderaan-Leia into two separate people. When he'd talked to Chewie about it, the Wookiee had said he'd had a similar reaction. And, Leia had said, more casually than he know she felt out about it, It'll be Ben's baby-naming, as well. It's traditional, for family to attend. I would so like to have you there – Chewie as well. His nephew who was Alderaanian, too. Which meant the four of them – five of them – were back together on the Falcon for the first time in a long time, to support her.

"He's so neurotic," Leia murmured, and Ben, as if insulted on Han's behalf, shrieked louder.

"He's such a dad," Luke corrected, giving a half smile.

"What? Sorry, I can't hear, I – Ben-ben-ben, sh-sh-sh, come on, sh-sh-sh, I know-I know-I know…" Holding him tightly to her chest now and patting his back, her face screwed up in annoyance.

"I said he's such a dad – here, let me try – Ben! Hey Ben, look over – peekaboo! Hey-hey-hey – peekaboo!"

Ben screamed louder, squirming angrily, but Leia gave a tired, amused grin. "He loathes being condescend to – Ben, you loathe being condescended to, don't you, yes, yes, you're thinking, Uncle Luke, how could you think I would consider peekaboo at a time like this! Yes!" Catching his little fist as he screamed and giving it a shake. "How could you possibly think I would deign to consider peekaboo––"

"He still at it?" Han grumbled, shuffling into the cockpit and wiping his forehead with his arm.

"Naturally," Leia said with a harsh laugh, her voice unnaturally loud to be heard over Ben's cries. "He hasn't quit since… gods… Here, Luke, will you just – my nose is desensitized, I can't tell if he needs a change anymore––"

Luke blinked in surprise as Ben's wriggling, thrashing bottom was shoved by his face. "Um, he smells fine to me?"

"Right, that's what I thought – why am I second-guessing myself, honesty…"

Han groaned as he practically collapsed into his seat, Chewie close behind. "You try feeding him again or––?"

"Yes, that did occur to me once or twice," she retorted sharply, rolling her eyes and pacing the small span of the cockpit, which seemed to calm Ben a little bit.

"What about that – the thing you were doing last night, with his gums…"

"Yes, but every time I touch something on this bucket of bolts I dirty my hands and I'm not about to stick my greasy dusty soiled fingers into his mouth."

"You know he's a Solo too, not just pure princess – got a strong system, little Falcon grease not gonna bring 'im down––"

"Han Solo he is a baby!"

"Alright, alright, forget it!"

"He's been up all night, did you say?" Luke asked worriedly. "Lei, you want a break? I can walk with him––"

"Yes, thank you, that'd be lovel––… oop, nope, uh-uh, that's okay, we'll just stick with Mama for now, uh-huh? All the time Mama, all night and all day, Mama-mama-mama, princesses don't take breaks – okay, Han, look – just – go through whatever pre-flight you can, we'll sit down just before, okay? Okay… we're okay, yes we are…"

"This one," Han grunted, pointing at Ben, "s'apparently teething, and this one––" indicating Leia now, "S'been up with nightmares, and those go back to that one…"

"And this one is so very eager to prove what a wonderful dad and husband he is, so…"

"So. Sleepless Solos – and Organa, and Organa, Kriff––"

"I didn't say a word… right Ben, did Mama say a word?"

"Yeah but I could see it all over your face – and I told you, I don't have a problem with it at all – Chewie, 've I ever said I have a problem with the princess keeping Organa––"

"Oh yes – sleepless – yes Ben, oh yes – mhm, I know, I know – no sleep for us, nuh-uh, no sleep…"

"S'when she was talkin' about making this one Organa that was I like––"

"I thought you were taking some meds for those nightmare, Leia," Luke interrupted over the rumble of the Falcon starting up, frowning.

"I am, but they're not – quite strong enough anymore, for these, as it were," she confessed, continuing to pace with Ben and trying to soothe him after the sound startled him. "And fear is one thing but it's very difficult to medicate away grief…"

"Oh, Leia, I'm sorry…"

"It's fine – it's been difficult, of course, but it's fine. Ben, isn't that true? Isn't that true – we're fine, we're fine… our fathers do not need to suggest rubbing Corellian whiskey on our gums because we are fine…"

"It was a joke!"

Leia turned to Luke, still pacing small circles, and gave him a look that could kill. "It was not a joke."

Han, then, punching up the usual series of flashing buttons: "Hey, Your Worship – 'bout time to buckle him in…"

"Surely we can wait another moment – sh-sh, we're comfortable here walking, yes we are, we're finally getting a bit comfort––Han!" Leia shrieked, grabbing onto the walls as they lurched.

"Said you should sit down…"

"Unbelievable," she muttered, but Luke could tell that she was smiling a little, even when Ben started to whimper and whine when she tried to wrangle him into his seat, her grip on the back of Han's chair tight as things got bumpier. And he wanted to smile, too – if only because this was so – typical, they were being so typical, bickering in the Falcon, needling each other, this fussy little thing somehow fitting right into the picture as though it'd always been there. "Say Captain, this is unbelievable… I know, I know, you don't have to tell me twice – I'm so angry, I'm so angry about my seat, I'm so angry that there ever was a Disaster such that I had to be a seat – I know!" Watching her grimace when Ben spit out the pacifier she'd managed to find. "Ben, please, come on now…"

"Princess, c'you try to keep it down––"

"I'm sorry, are you the one wrangling the four-month-old? Go on, flyboy, are you waiting for something?"

"Can't think straight, don't wanna – fuckin'…"

[He's worried he can't fly perfectly with the baby screaming, and if he doesn't fly perfectly, he's worried the baby will keep screaming,] Chewie grumbled as clarification. [Or worse – be scared.]

"Han Solo you have flown this ship amidst ceaseless Imperial fire––!"

"Yeah, but I didn't have my kid on the thing then!"

"Ohhh, he's being sen-si-tive… Ben, can't you calm down and appreciate your da calling the Falcon a thing and being sen-si-tive…"

Ben screamed louder in response, and Leia snickered.

"He doesn't seem to appreciate it," she quipped. "Han, you're fine – just go on, he'll tire himself out eventually."

"Fine, but I don't like it – Chewie – punch it."

The Wookiee roared a teasing, [What was that?]

"Oh, fuck off you big fuzzball – do it!"

It took a second for Luke to appreciate that as they jerked into a hyperspace, the ship had gone silent save for the roar of the engine. The baby had stopped screaming.

Luke looked over at his nephew in the seat wedged between his and Leia's – his eyes were wide, and he was waving a fist dreamily, cooing.

"Oh…" Leia said, noticing too, and she smiled a broad, tired smile. "Oh, yes – mhm, Ben, look! Look, I know, I know… yes, the lights, I know, I know, it's lovely!"

Ben clapped and laughed, and Leia laughed too.

"Yes! Yes, it's lovely – Han, dear, you need to – yes! Oh, you love it – yes, yes you do, of course you do, of course you'd love to fly…"

"S'that, sweetheart?"

"Han, here – take the baby, hold on," she said determinedly, going to unbuckle him.

"A little busy flyin' the ship here, princess…"

"You can do that with your eyes closed, just trust me… here… yes, yes I know, you're very happy, mhm – here you go…"

She was holding out the baby a bit precariously and Luke could see Han make an anxious, annoyed face before taking him, setting him on his lap with his hand on his middle with a frown.

Ben waved his hand at the streaks of light and laughed again, then clapped happily. And Luke watched his friend notice, and break from a furrowed brow into a surprised grin. "Yeah, you like that? All the lights?"

He tickled the baby and Ben squealed with laughter again, bouncing happily.

"Yeah, I know the feeling – first time up in the air and all that… not like anything else, huh? You like that a whole lot, yeah?"

Luke looked over at Leia – she was smiling sleepily, leaning back in her seat with her knees drawn up, watching.

"Mhm. Tell you what," Han was muttering, "Can go up whenever you like, alright? As much as you want, whenever you wanna. M'always game."

Ben was snuggled against him now, sucking his thumb and looking wide-eyed at the whole galaxy outside the Falcon. Chewie was teasing Han mercilessly in rumbling roars, reaching out every so often to ruffle Ben's tiny fluff of hair. Han himself had his eyes trained on the sky, but a crooked half-smile playing n the corner of his mouth. And Leia, bless her really, had the same skeptical puckered expression as always on her face, but loosened her grip on her knees and quietly dozed off. And for the first time in a long time, Luke felt something simple radiating from this impossibly complicated crew: contentedness, and familiarity.

It's traditional, on Alderaan, for family to attend.

Of course they'd be there. Noisily, probably crash-landing, and with baggage in tow – but yes, of course they would.

XX.

"Relax," Han said, watching as Leia jerked from her seat on the bunk when she heard footsteps. "S'just me."

"Oh..." Leia said, exhaling and relaxing but setting the apparatus aside. "Sorry — when it's the baby I don't mind, really, but with the pump it just feels — like being walked in on in the fresher or something. I suppose because with the baby it's pastoral but without it's just — er, not very attractive."

"Well. Whatever gets the job done."

"Sure," she allowed, smiling faintly. "Though unfortunately I did need to make use of some space in the freezer, so much for the sanctity of the ship as un-babyified… where is Ben, anyway?"

"Spending some quality time with his uncles in the cockpit. Was told that I should get some sleep."

"Mm — he's staying settled?"

"Seems like it."

"He loved hyper, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Han said, smiling a little as he sat down beside her. "Somebody tell Luke, might have a pilot on her hands instead of a Jedi."

"I'll leave that one to you…" She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled sleepily up at him. "Hi."

"Hey there, sweetheart."

"What're you looking at?"

"Just – you."

"Well, I'm flattered."

"Thinkin' about you."

"Mm."

"Just – this time of year. I always just." He exhaled noisily, squeezing her shoulder. "I feel so damn sad for your, princess. Just…" He thought about the night before, how Ben had refused to let anyone hold him but her, screaming when she stopped massing his little gum lightly, but how she was post-nightmare and sweaty and crying, just holding the baby and trying to soothe him while crying… silent tears down her cheeks, she'd been screaming about her father, her real father Bail… he couldn't explain it, she wasn't hysterical or shoving him away, just sad, not coping poorly, just – just really sad. Which happened, sometimes.

She'd just given him a what-can-you-do smile as she'd wept and soothed the baby and let him put a blanket around her and make her tea. Probably the most intimate moment of knowing her thus far: taking a tissue and holding it to her nose so she could blow. A visceral second of feeling really, really – married.

She'd needed help and she'd let him give it to her. A year ago, she'd be freaking out in the 'fresher and sobbing Don't come in, I'm fine, don't come in!

He was – proud of her? Of them.

"I feel sad for me too," Leia said simply.

"You nervous?" She'd been rehearsing the speech she'd been delivering for the congregation for days.

"I don't know. Less so, I think, than I expected. I think I'm more nervous to see if they'll – remember me is the wrong word, but."

"Take you as one of them?"

"Yes. I mean – I've been… having a baby and shooting Imps and they've been – struggling for water. And Alderaanians don't shoot."

"You're one of them, Lei. You know that."

"And I also feel very tired. But I feel – I don't know. Clear. My head feels clear."

"Good," he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. "I love your head."

She snorted. "You love head."

"Alright, alright, easy Your Highness. Awfully – what's the word? Crass."

"But not untrue…" she murmured, smirking a little, but it was playful. "I'm glad we're having sex again. I missed it."

Han choked a little. "I mean, yeah. Uh – same."

"But we have to be careful, you know… I don't know if I could do this again…"

"Hm," he said neutrally, squeezing her shoulder again.

"Or if so, not for some time, at least. There's time, anyway…"

"Uh, yeah. Loads of time. Lemme tell ya, princess – you don't even know what's coming. You're gonna love your thirties and that's still how much away, another five years?"

Leia laughed, twisting away from him and lying down in their narrow bunk contentedly. "I'm going to love them, am I? Is that so?"

"M'loving mine. Met the girl of my dreams…"

"Ah, see, well, I met my husband when I was a teenager, so," she teased.

Han made a face. "Yeah. Don't remind me."

"Hm?"

"Don't remind me I spent a year jerking off to fantasies about fucking a nineteen-year-old, Kriff…" he groaned, stretching out on the bunk beside her.

She grinned broadly at him, propping herself up on an elbow. "You're quite the cliché, you know. Taking a much younger wife and knocking her up immediately."

"Ugh…"

"I can't wait to hear all about what forty is like next year…"

"Hey now, that's crossing a line," he growled, pinning her and kissing her neck as she laughed.

"Aren't we supposed to be sleeping?"

"I can think of some ways we can tire ourselves out…"

"Maybe you, old ma––Han! Stop it, stop it, I can't breathe!" she screamed as he tickled her, and as he smirked and kissed her soft skin and listened to her laughing Han was abruptly transported back ten months ago, lying here in the bunk beside her, kissing whatever of her skin was closest and tickling her, seeing her smile for the first time in a long time. And then how suddenly, she'd turned to him, smiling down at him in his spot with his lips by her breasts, and stroked his hair. And said breathlessly, "Han – what if we just – did it?"

"Hmm?" he'd mumbled, busying himself with the valley between her breasts.

"I mean what if we just – said fuck it, you know? I mean, what if I did – did, actually – have your child? This child."

He'd stared up at her from his spot, chin resting on her sternum, speechless. She'd told him maybe two weeks ago, and while nothing was certain there was a direction she'd seemed to be leaning in, and this certainly wasn't it…

"In seven months we would just – have a child, I'd just have your child, and we would have a baby, you and I – why don't we just do it?"

"Uh," he'd said slowly, clearing his throat, "I mean, you seemed to have – reservations..."

"I think we deserve some happiness, don't you? This war is ending, we've given it everything, surely we're owed one by now – surely we can be happy, we deserve to be happy. Surely we can do something as mundane as—"

"Mundane?"

"I want to have your child. This child. I've deserved that, to be happy with the person I love… is that alright with you, Han?"

He stared up at her, wide-eyed, taking in her gorgeous tousled tresses and her flushed cheeks and her shining, determined, mind-made-up eyes. "You – want to have my – baby," he echoed. You think a princess and guy like me…?

"Well this specific baby, here — I know we can't feel anything but..." She took his hand and held it over her warm, flat abdomen. "We can do anything, Han. They can't take anything away from us anymore unless we let them."

He'd stroked her stomach with his thumb. "Sure," he'd said, laughing a little. "Sure, Okay. Why not?"

"Exactly," she'd said, echoing back words she – politician, practical, planner, pragmatic – had probably never said before. "Why not?" And the she'd kissed him harder than ever, practically jumping on him and smiling and laughing.

"Who are you and what have you done with my princess, huh?" he'd teased.

"I love you," she was saying, kissing him all over. "And no one can ever compel me to give that up, ever again. I love you, I love you, I love you!"

And yes there were moments – a lot of moments – during the following months where she'd lost that eagerness… every time a diplomat treated her like shit, every time she could feel a mentor's judgement, every time a military doctor shrugged helplessly, poked around inside her and said we'll have to figure it out together when the time comes, every time they fought, the two of them, shouting for long hours and then fucking it away afterwards, about her going off on this mission or that, doing this training or that – I think you like it this way, don't you! Telling me I can't run, that I ought to stay put! Isn't this how you've always wanted me! Knowing my place! Taking her hard and growling this is where I want you, this is how I want you right now…

And he still couldn't think about those horrible moments just before and after the baby was born. Before when she was holding both of his hands and leaning in very close and saying to him very seriously, muffled by the oxygen mask – I cannot do it, I can't, I can't Han, tell them I have to stop! Afterwards when she was mostly just mumbles, when folks came to see her and he had to turn them away, but he couldn't turn away.

But still – that girl, two months from Endor, telling him Fuck it, fuck it! Having never said anything sexier – I want to have your child. Here she was, now – laughing a little, her hair messy, rings under her eyes, but happy. Crying in the night still, but handling it. They were going to handle it.

"I love you," she was saying now, kissing his cheek. "But I really do want to try to sleep some."

"Yeah," he said. For the first time in a long time, he felt okay about shutting his eyes and letting his own guard down, too. "Yeah, let's do it."

#

Just a nice short bridge chapter… there are two more (which are much more eventful) after this one and then we're all done.