PROMPT: For Leia to stumble across some glimpse of Boba and Sintas' brief marriage.
Leia's having one of those strange, lucid moments, where she knows she's in a dream.
She fell asleep nursing Jonah, curled up on her side on the bed with her son beside her. She was exhausted to begin with, and between the soft, contented suckling noises of her baby and Fett's deep, even breathing on her other side, she drifted off.
And in this state of sem-consciousness, it's easy to feel the force flowing through her and around her. She feels Jonah's small but bright presence, and she slips between his thoughts as easily as a breeze.
Her sweet baby. He's warm and he's cozy by her side and he's dreaming. In his mind he's still nursing, and Leia can feel his satisfaction and see the fleshy blob that is her son's perception of her (Jonah is apparently not aware that she has two breasts). It may not be the most flattering image, but in the force his attachment is a glowing, tangible link between them.
She starts to drift again. Now she's in a hallway she's never seen before. There are voices. Angry voices. A man stumbles out into the hallway as if he was just pushed through a doorway and Leia is suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that surrounds him. He's choking on it. Not outwardly. Outwardly his brows are lowered, and his mouth is twisted with anger. Inside, he's drowning.
Two things are apparent to Leia at once. One, that's her husband. And two, he's young. Much younger than she ever knew him.
That's when the third thing hits her. She accidentally drifted into Boba's dream.
A woman storms out into the hall after him. Young, visibly pregnant, with fine black hair. There's only one person she can be. Sintas Vel. His first wife. "Is this what you want, Bo? You want me to get angry?"
"Why not?" He snarls in return. "Maybe you could try shrieking at Hegwinn until he pays up."
She backhands him hard across the face, and the sound echoes through the empty hall. Leia can feel the sting of it, not the physical pain but the deeper, internal sting and the helpless rage that wells up inside of him.
Sintas is crying now, tears running freely down her tattooed cheeks as she pulls back her hand and hits him again. He has plenty of time to stop it, but he doesn't. Her posture breaks, and she falls forward into his chest, sobbing.
Boba's arms stay at his sides, his hands curled into fists. Leia can feel how much he wants to shove Sintas away. How desperately he wants out. His face slowly smooths out into a cold mask.
"Don't cry," he says, and it's a sneering insult.
Sintas sniffles and swallows hard. "Sorry," she says, through her teeth. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hit you. I'm just so tired…I'll…make it up to you."
Leia's not sure if this is a memory wrapped in a dream or a dream based on a memory. She knows what's coming next, and wants to push away from it, but at the same, time she doesn't want to leave him there. Whatever this is, this memory, this dream, it's submerged in his despair.
She doesn't know for sure if she can pull him out, but she has to try.
Boba…you must have happier memories…
There's a soft blanket spread out on the floor of a threadbare apartment, and a baby laying on her stomach. She can raise her head, her dark curls wobbling as she kicks her arms and legs. Her face is…indistinct. He doesn't remember what she looked like.
Boba's sitting on a nearby chair, his back straight, his eyes watching Sintas while she's in a small kitchen area. There's anticipation all around him, but it has nothing to do with the food being prepared. It doesn't smell good. It won't taste good either. She turns, and casts an anxious look into the sitting area. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine." Boba leans forward a little. "She'll be rolling over soon."
"Really?" She comes a little closer. Something gray and runny is dripping off the spoon she's carrying. "She's too young for that, isn't she?"
"She's pushing up with her arms. And when you put her on her back, she twists to her side. Those are the signs."
"Huh. I didn't know that." She gives him a quick grin. "She's growing so fast."
"Yes. She is."
Leia can see how pleased he is by this simple exchange. She can also see the baby manual he read from start to finish.
Of course you did…
He's so young, and trying so hard. She wishes she could put her arms around him and rub his back and tell him it's okay to not know everything at seventeen.
And then everything shifts again, and the baby changes, and this time it's Jonah, sleeping in his hammock aboard Slave I. The details are much sharper.
He stirs, nuzzling the cloth against his cheek, his face scrunching in a tell-tale way. His mouth opens, and single, unhappy cry comes out before his eyes open. He's looking up at Boba now, and that same despair Leia felt in the hallway returns.
He'll never get it right. He'll never be able to-
No. You can. You will.
His hand reaches out and grasps the hammock, rocking Jonah gently. Jonah's eyes close, and Leia reflects that this alone is proof that this is a dream. She doesn't allow that thought to surface, though, because she's beginning to realize that she's now directing the dream. She's directing his consciousness.
It's a strange, almost horrifying realization, but at the same time it makes her feel powerful. She can influence him, through his dreams. She can make Boba love their son.
This is a power she absolutely should not have.
She wakes up. She wakes herself up out of sheer force of will, cold sweat prickling on her skin. Her husband is still sleeping beside her, and she doesn't dare move a muscle for fear of waking Jonah. She lays there a moment, her body drawn and tense, her mind racing.
She can't do this again. She can't risk it.