Leia was glad that the women of the village had decided it was time to move on from their fishing. From the riverside, she walked with Nakia, Himah, and Rewa to a great earthen lodge situated in the middle of Casita. Across the worn pathway was what Rewa had told Leia was the school. At the commotion of the women returning, dozens of bright and eager faces spilled out and called and waved to their mothers. "Sipho!" Nakia hollered to her own little boy who stood at the outer edge of the assembled crowd. "You get back inside now!"
Rewa chuckled, nudging Nakia's elbow as she brushed past. "He is just happy to see you."
"He sees me every day. He doesn't see the teacher every day. Why can't he be excited when he sees the teacher?"
"What age groups are there for the school?" Leia asked after surveying the crowd of children. "And do they all take the same lessons together?"
Rewa answered, "Sending your children to school is optional. Most mothers teach their children themselves. Their speech, letters, numbers. Whatever they believe their children need to know. So, for the most part, school is more for ... upper level learning."
"Are there ever families who don't teach their children?"
"Leia." Nakia rolled her eyes. "Our husbands are smugglers. We all want our kids to learn."
Rewa snickered, and no one argued the jest.
They approached the entry to the lodge and Rewa beckoned Leia, "Come. We have much to show you still."
The lodging was filled with music and laughter. They scattered across the room in groups, but mingled all together, laughing and hollering. Some sang while they worked, cutting up fruits and fish and trading amongst each other. Others were set to work with various art projects: beading, weaving together grasses, twine, and ribbons, or carefully shaping wet molds of clay.
Rewa handed her basket of fish off to a passerby who swept it away across the room to her group. The women led Leia to the other side of the lodge, seating themselves amidst a pile of twigs and leaves. "Forgive me- I was wandering outside yesterday," Rewa whispered to Leia, leaning close. "But we are not simply housewives. Marriage is a partnership, and we have our own worth to add to our homes." She picked out a few threads and went about stitching them together. "I don't suppose you saw a glimpse of the city, did you? The markets?"
"You make the products and sell them to the vendors."
Rewa beamed. "The vendors pay us well, too. They make good credits off pottery weaved works especially."
A surge of guilt hit Leia, and she bowed her head mournfully. "Rewa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that as a slight against you or anyone else here—"
Rather than seeming expectant, Rewa appeared more amused by the insinuation that Leia had meant offense in the midst of her heated argument with Han. The woman smiled and shook her head. "You are a strong woman— just the perfect fit for Han. You were raised to take on a career led by men, then went on to lead a military— also dominated by men. Leia, you've managed to grabbed onto control and find the life you want for yourself despite the obstacles. I would be frustrated too if I was apparently forced back into a more "fitting" role.
"But there's nothing wrong with the life you can have here. You can still be in control, do what you want, find something that makes you happy. You don't have to fit the ideal feminine image to be a good mother or a good wife."
It was impressive how spot-on Rewa had hit the mark. Leia had spent all her youth training and studying to join the senate and the Rebellion. The obstacles had been stacked against her from day one, and few had believed Leia Organa would make it far on her own. She was a woman— no, a girl. She was young, foolish, inexperienced. She didn't know enough about the galaxy to lead its people. She was too young to become a senator and make decisions. She was too weak to do anything meaningful for the Rebellion. She was small and skinny, and she was a poor swimmer. She was too innocent, too polite or modest to even touch a blaster— too weak to fire one. But if Bail Organa was going to use his influence to put Leia at the forefront of the Rebellion, then she could sit at a table all day with the rest of the politicians. Then, Bail died. Now, Leia was too emotional, too broken, too grief-stricken to possibly be in the right mind. She didn't know real war, didn't know what kind of sacrifice it took to fight the Empire. She was a princess; she didn't know what it meant to be a soldier, to bleed, to fall, to get back up.
Leia had fought so hard for so long to earn her place, and she'd still been fighting. Now, she was in love, pregnant, forced to stay behind while Han risked himself to keep her and their child safe. She felt like she'd surrendered to everyone who had sworn she wouldn't get anywhere. The Senate job hadn't worked out, and neither had the Rebellion, so now she was giving up, running away to hide from the shame. She had succumbed to the inevitable and was now taking her place at home. And she despised it.
"Being a mother is hard. It takes bravery and perseverance and strength and grit. It takes a lot— a lot that some bureaucrats just don't have. And it's important! Report me to your general, but I believe it's just as important as the job you had for the Alliance. Maybe, even more."
Leia chose to blame it on hormones when her vision blurred with salty tears. She was too relieved and in awe at Rewa's words to feel humiliated, and she wiped them away without a second thought. "Thank you, Rewa."
"Don't worry so much, dear. You will have plenty to worry over later."
Just as Leia returned her attention to the others in her group, watching them carefully weave, her stomach filled with little flutters again. She smiled to herself, settling a hand over her small curve. I'm sorry, baby. Mommy's still getting used to this.