A very different type of chapter, but I think you'll like it.

14

Here's what Leia realized: it was shockingly easy, to tell a lie, once she didn't have to tell it any longer. That is, once she'd done it all it took to maintain was just – not mentioning it. And it wasn't really a lie so much as an omission… she told Han that some recruitment materials with her image had been leaked once it had been done, she told him that Mon had asked her to meet and expressed serious concerns about the news of her pregnancy becoming public, she told him she had the sense that she was being ousted for political reasons now that you mention it, she told him when High Command reluctantly put her in charge of a substantial amount of translation and procurement just two days after the leak, even planned to make use of his expertise when it came to ship parts. It was just that she told him those things without mentioning that Evaan had leaked the images or that the duo were conferring regularly on her relative standing among the ranks. And also that she told him them in between sex and more sex and making out and meals and listening to him gripe about the troops he'd been put in charge of – me, a general! – and watching him play Sabacc with Lando and bumming around on the Falcon with him and letting him rub her sore fingers after she sewed, always sewing, ever more slack into her pants, her dresses, her sore lower back after a day of barking out orders and storming around and being very much on her feet, after bickering about doing so.

And so in this way a week flew by, maybe a week and a half, she couldn't be sure. She'd never thought of time in increments of weeks before, really, she had always thought in terms of the Alderaanian lunar calendar long past its destruction, but of course the few materials on pregnancy she could access seemed very insistent on the week-as-module, so – well. There it was. There it was – too risky to extend past their own servers, so having a woman she barely knew, Kes Dameron's wife who'd had a baby two years earlier, forward her the little leaflets she still had downloaded. Shara Bey – she was a pilot and Leia always wanted to ask Han – did he know her? Had they ever exchanged words?

Kes Dameron and Shara Bey's baby – toddler, really, a little boy – lived with one of his grandparents, they didn't see him often but when it was safe they did receive holos, they spread through the troops like wildfire because they were so sweet. Leia thought about this child often when she reflected, like tracing a well-worn groove, things that made her ill-suited. This was one of them. Not only the lack of grandparents – orphans, all of them, everyone she loved! – but the two years of not-seeing. Children deserved constancy, stability, they couldn't be held on retainer like some kind of fluffy flattery babified equivalent to having a kept woman. Well. Leia had never promised to be someone who didn't pass judgement. And anyway, really, there was no reason why even if the Rebellion faced loss after loss that Shara and Kes shouldn't live to see many more years. They were safely, dangerously, painfully anonymous agents, another reminder of how many people were willing to give up everything for this cause she had so badly complicated via a lack of condoms.

Something felt – off, she knew. Something had shifted, something felt not-right. She'd read all of the intel on the second Death Star and knew that the plans were due quite soon, and yet plans for attack seemed to be stalling. Luke hadn't been in touch and then abruptly reached out, not to her but to Han, to say he'd be longer than expected. She'd felt sicker, this past week and a half, than she had since she'd thought she'd merely had the flu – her whole body seemed like it was resistant, like it was battling it out with its tenant for space and losing. She'd always felt alienated from her body, as long as she could remember but especially since the Death Star, but never before had she felt it was full-on in revolt.

She didn't know, too, why she was determined to hide as much of it from him as possible. It wasn't like she felt ashamed? Or like it wasn't his fault as much as hers? But she stuck to sex in the dark now, and griped most of her gripes about pain – in her feet, in her back, in her breasts, everywhere – to Evaan or her subordinates, and tried to hide mood-swings as best as she could. When she couldn't, she excused herself or else mocked herself to great excess. And she could tell it was getting to him – he'd snapped once, "no one'll call you a pussy if you cry, we all know you're pregnant, relax for once, alright?" and when he put a protective arm around her when her balance seemed off and she shoved it off, he shoved it back on and narrowed his eyes. The sleeping situation was still shit but when they really couldn't fit he'd still indulge her by letting her fall asleep in his falling-off-the-bed arms before he slipped off to the crew bunk or her unyielding sofa. But the idea of being so – pregnant in front of him… it bothered her. A lot. Even though now she was more open about settling her hands on her stomach because how could she not, or making dry comments about it to her recruits – I've grown a second skeleton between these transmission's interception and this interpretation, let's not hesitate a moment longer – or sometimes if she felt especially reckless a do you feel that, that movement there? Even the unborn are disgusted and up in arms at the thievery this supplier has attempted, we mustn't back down now, we will do better – somehow with Han it just felt – too much, too vulnerable. The same reason he still hadn't seen her hair down, which was surreal, but now that it was a thing she couldn't give it away willy-nilly. Sex in the dark.

Han… he seemed so – not sad, recently, but contemplative, worried. Like he was looking past her. He was working hard, they both were, which was probably why he felt so far away, that and her fib. She wondered what he said, when people inevitably ribbed him – why did she feel like he just shut them down? Why did she suddenly, for the first time really, feel like she'd taken something away from him?

Gods, she couldn't wait for this to be over. She just wanted him – them – back. (She'd only had him for a handful of weeks, it wasn't fair!)

That sense of distance, of losing him really, losing their depth, was why, despite her initial instinct that she should merely go alone, she now had Han standing beside her, holding her hand automatically, as she should outside the door of the women who would be her houseguest's parents.

She was still wearing her uniform – her modified uniform, as it were, but oh how it felt good to be in uniform again – but she'd redone her braids to utmost perfection, not a flyaway in sight, her eyeliner especially dense so she didn't look pitiful, or like a young girl. Han looked – concerned, annoyed, the way he always did, brow furrowed, expression unreadable. She squeezed his hand for his attention and when he was looking at her, gave him a mild look, eyebrows raised just a tad, and he exhaled noisily in acknowledgment and seemed to relax a bit before knocking on the door a second time. She was just thinking she didn't know what to expect and then, suddenly – the door was open.

The woman on the other side was a few inches taller than Leia, maybe, very slight, maybe forty, with a bright, almost silly smile – "I'm so sorry, I really did hear you the first time, we're not that old, but the boiler just went off and then I was caught you know – tea, door, tea, door––"

"Of course," Leia said in a voice she hoped was gracious, giving her best polite, princess smile – her mind reeling––

"Stel," a voice interrupted, and then there was the other woman, taller, cropped grey hair, angular features, apologetic but warm smile, hand on the first woman's shoulder, and as they stepped inside and exchanged introductions, Han all eyebrow-raised handshakes and smug looks at their "I mean – yes, I know"s at his name, her trying to be formal as well only to be embraced by them both, Leia thought with sudden acute clarity – I shouldn't have been worried about Han, I'm the one who will not make it through this encounter.

When was the last time she'd be hugged by someone older than her? Carlist, maybe, when she'd wept to him about being unable to be a mother. There was something awful and safe about it, how she felt known in the Hi, honey, of course, like she'd been caught in the act of crying and had been doing a bad job of pretending to be fine all along and could finally ease into it. But she didn't – couldn't – ease into it.

Han had his hand on her lower back as he made casual small talk about the few unusual baubles decorating the sparse unit, identical to her own – fuck him, this was what he did wasn't it, made small talk and charmed women – while she felt herself rapidly free-falling. It was one thing to know she was precarious, it was another thing to be recognized as such. Warmly embraced with soft, safe sympathy – Hi, honey, of course. She felt out of control, she wanted her mother.

"––Princess?"

"Sorry?" Leia asked, snapping back into awareness and pasting on a polite smile.

"I asked if you wanted any tea, Princess." Lu, then, the taller woman, peering at her with a worried smile.

"Oh – Leia is fine, please just call me – tea would be – yes, please, sure – I'm sorry, I've had a long day and––"

"Not a problem," Lu said, nodding warmly but still looking concerned as she drifted towards the kettle. "Is there a particular kind…? Stella's nicked about everything from mess, so––"

"Hush, you – I promise," Stella added reassuringly, turning to her and Han, "we're good people, good values, all that..."

"Mint's good, right?" Han asked her, touching her hair briefly and also frowning. "With the stomach, you've been into––"

Who are you? Leia thought, peeved – Since when do you dote like this, what are you playing at, trying to prove? "Mint's lovely. My stomach's been a bit unsettled," she said, giving another polite smile.

"Mint it is," Lu said, echoing none of her polite professionalism and instead almost painfully good-natured.

"You must be so uncomfortable," Stella said sympathetically, leading them over to the couch, "But thankfully you're at the end of it now."

"Yep," Han said amicably, "but she's hangin' in," and she shot him a dirty look like, Since when do you know whether or not I am 'hangin' in'? as he helped her lower herself to the sofa. If he noticed, he ignored it.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that – I just heard through Carlist that you've taken up leading a whole division again, I can't even imagine, you're quite a remarkable young woman…"

Leia gave a prim nod of thanks. "I believe in doing my part to serve," she said lightly, taking the tea from Lu, who – gods! – took the time to warn her it was hot as Han rested his arm on the edge of the couch behind her.

Lu sat in one of the chairs beside her wife and snorted. "Sure, but everyone serves while – how many weeks is it now?"

Leia found herself staring into her tea. "Um. A few after seven months, I – maybe 30?" Her voice came out a bit fainter than she'd hoped.

"Right, I forgot you won't have seen a proper medic – that's just – well. You don't need another two Rebels telling you how strong you are, you surely have enough."

"Yeah, but it doesn't seem to get through to her, so," Han noted smoothly, giving her a crooked grin, but Leia just bit her lip. She hated this. She hated this. She hated this.

She listened to some light small talk about where people were from, how long they'd been in the service, et cetera, not really participating, noting when Han grinned and murmured against her ear that all things considered, he really liked them. Hells, she really liked them – they were warm and funny and frank, they were down to earth, they were planning on resigning their commissions and doing community organizing on a planet Leia'd never even heard of but that they assured her was home for them, they loved each other. And yet… she was only really listening when Stella placed her hand on Leia's knee and said, so serious and searching, "I don't know if anything's changed about your situation since we first spoke to Carlist, but we just want you to know – if you decide you need a home for your baby, we'd love to provide it."

Leia gave a small nod, not looking up, so still. "Of course. Thank you. I – I mean." She looked up at Han, who gave her a go on, nod, all whatever-you-want, "I mean, yes."

Stella gave her knee a squeeze. "Whatever you want, dear. I – I know it's improbable but I feel for you, I really do."

"It's really – it's a real gift, Princess, to do this," Lu said seriously. "Leia, I mean," she corrected, but she was smiling. "Really."

"Yes," Leia said faintly, feeling herself dissociating further, recoiling from that warm touch. "I mean – of course. I – we – I want her to – have a good – a safe…" She trailed off and looked back into her tea, now cold. A good. A safe. It would have that, with these women. Better than she could ever, she knew that – she just wished she didn't have to see it so goddamn vividly.

"Her? You don't know the––"

"No I just. I alternate," she murmured, "I don't – I don't want to become too attached."

"Of course," Stella said kindly. "And off of that – we discussed, and we really feel that if you – both of you – want to be – a part of the baby's life, or receive updates – anything, really, we can always discuss, we're open––"

"No," Leia said, surprising herself with the interruption. "No, I don't want – I don't want of that. Please," she added, trying to lift her chin and sound firm. "I mean, if it's all the same – I really would rather – I mean – I think – I think I would prefer limited – no contact, really. No contact."

She could feel Han staring at her – not revulsion, not anger, even, just – concern.

"I actually – I mean." She was tripping over her words, her body rigid. "I would just – I would like this to just be done with. By which I mean, really think it would be easier for me – for us – if we weren't – if we weren't reminded," she finished clumsily. "And I wouldn't want to confuse – I just think that you would be her mothers. His mothers, its mothers. And. If there's no benefit, if it's all the same – I mean I never knew my birth parents and I wasn't troubled – I would just – I really would prefer no contact. None."

Her hands were shaking, she knew, and everyone was staring at her, Han's arm descending to squeeze her shoulders as he tried desperately to catch her eye. How could she explain? That the more she knew – about them, about the life they planned to give it, about the thing itself – the more she knew she was setting herself up to be broken, the more vulnerable she was making herself to fancies of want and longing that were in no one's best interest, least of all the houseguest's? That it would be impossible to allow this to just fade away into the backdrop of her life if she gods received updates, or even was just able to imagine its life without her – that then she could think about it, that then it could never be a clean break? She needed this to be a clean break. Leia would never survive if it weren't, she couldn't handle another loss, not one she could feel acutely, imagine. The houseguest needed this. It needed to live without her. It needed a life that she'd been scrubbed from. Otherwise everyone would be hurt...

After a moment, Stella said slowly, "If that's what you need, Leia. Of course."

Leia nodded rapidly, trying to control her constricting throat, and sipped down more of her tea. After another long moment, Lu cleared her throat. "Listen – this may not be the best moment, but because I knew you'd be swinging by today, I filched a stetho from medical. You can absolutely say no, please, but I know I at least thought it might be neat––"

"Lu––" Stella was hissing.

"No, that's – of course," Leia said graciously. "Of course. I – with all due respect, I don't think – I don't think I will be comfortable coming back here – spending time – until – its birth, so – I think for now – I think that'd be fine by me, of course."

"I hope it wasn't something we––"

"No, I just – I didn't realize how much I preferred things to be more anonymous until this moment," Leia said honestly. "I think you're both lovely. I have all the peace of mind I need – right, Han?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, his grip on her firm. "I mean – yes."

"So. I don't think I'll listen but if you'd like to I think that's very sweet," Leia said, and she meant it. I think it's so sweet that you want it, I just wish I didn't have to see it so up close.

Which is how she found herself peeling back her shirt, looking at that long, strange dark line down her middle and the pop of her belly button and the scaly stretch marks on her side, as two women each took a turn listening to a stetho pressed against her abdomen. Han was holding her tighter still, pressing his lips to her hair and for the first time in a long time she felt like he understood her, where she was at – that he didn't think she was selfish. That he felt for her.

"Are you sure neither of you would like to hear?" Lu was saying. "It's actually quite neat."

She was so surprised, thus, when Han said suddenly, "Sure, I'll try it."

He took the device, and Leia gave him a startled look. "Aw, c'mon, princess," he said, wearing that crooked sad-happy smile. "S'just a listen."

She shook her head, but watched as he popped one of the earpieces in and moved the silver disk over her belly, his brow furrowed before his face lit up with a surprised grin. "Lei," he said. "It's really cool."

She shook her head again, but when he took her hand and squeezed it, she realized he wasn't oblivious – he knew, he knew what she felt, and he was telling her there was no way it would be a totally clean break, it would always be impossible, so why not have this one moment, right, why not?

She took the other earpiece and there it was, late on rent, inconvenient, belonging to someone else now, making a temporary home inside her, fleetingly something of the two of them: wha-whoosh, wha-whoosh, wha-whoosh. As her returned smile grew watery, yes, she knew – there'd be no perfect clean break.

#

Just stay with me guys, I promise it'll all pay off. And please comment! Especially if you're a follower who's never commented! You don't know how much it means – I know logically there are 60+ of you following, but I often worry I'm sending these chapters into the void!