A/N: so many new characters to introduce! this chapter turned out to be a little crowded, but I think it ended up alright haha

safe to say- although all these characters belong to the star wars universe (save for Shiloh), their personalities are all mine. unfortunately all that we've gotten from them in canon were a few thrown lines in the padmé's books, rip

Eventually, Jobal Naberrie hadto let go of her daughter.

It was probably the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, even harder than burying that same daughter to eternally rest, but she did; and when she did, Padmé saw the tears streaming down her face and disappearing in the brightest smile she had ever seen.

"Oh, Padmé," Jobal cried, and her vocabulary seemed to consist almost exclusively of Padmé's name. "You look so beautiful, Padmé."

Padmé smiled, resting her head on Jobal's hands on her cheeks. She probably didn't; she was aged and she had adopted a simpler way of life and she was nothing like Padmé Amidala had once been. Yet, she believed her mother.

"We thought you were dead, Padmé," Ruwee spoke, and, like his wife, his voice was on edge. However, there was a bruteness there that Jobal's lacked; no, there was only love in Jobal's voice. "We buried you."

"I know," Padmé agreed weakly, finding it hard to look at her father's eyes; scared as to what she would find there. "I am so sorry for what I put you through."

"You came back," Jobal said emotionally. "That's all that matters, Padmé. Oh, Padmé, you're alive…!"

Jobal started weeping again, but she did it as she ran her fingers through Padmé's hair and absorbed every little change in Padmé's appearance.

"Come on, my love, let's go inside," Jobal prompted, her arm already around Padmé's waist to guide her inside. "Oh, you must miss home so dearly. And Sola! We must call her immediately. She doesn't live too far away, she'll come in a heartbeat. Oh, and we must let the little ones know too, although — they're not so little anymore, are they now. Oh, Padmé, they have grown so much ever since you last saw them. Ryoo and Pooja have become the finest girls you can imagine. And I know that they still remember you. Even Pooja, who was so little when it all happened—"

"Mama, wait," Padmé broke free of her hold before she was fully dragged inside. She took a step back, gesturing behind her, and only then did Jobal and Ruwee notice they weren't completely alone.

"You brought friends with you?!" Ruwee inquired, and Padmé frowned at how offended he seemed.

Her father was not taking it all too well, and it had barely been five minutes. Padmé took in a long breath to calm herself.

"Ruwee, behave," Jobal reprimanded her husband. With her cheeks still wet and one hand strongly attached to Padmé, she gestured towards the three strangers. "Come along, dears."

Luke was the first one to climb the steps while trying to contain his enthusiasm. Leia followed closely behind, with Han being the last one — after all, he wasn't family.

"Mama, Papa, this is Luke," Padmé presented him first, somehow amazed at the immensity of his smile as he cordially bowed to his grandparents. "And this is Leia. And this—" she looked behind herself to find Han, "—is Han. He's Leia's… boyfriend…"

Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Padmé's hesitancy to place a word at hers and Han's relationship, instead taking one step forward and respectfully lowering her head to the elders in front of her. "It's an honor to meet you."

Ruwee narrowed his eyes at them, especially at Luke and Leia, almost like he recognized them from somewhere, and he wordlessly left back inside, fixating on that thought.

Jobal looked at Padmé, her mother's instincts telling her that there was something more about these people, but she didn't press at it when Padmé forced a weak, anxious smile.

"Let's go inside, shall we? The porch is hardly the place for us to get acquainted. Did you bring baggage? Oh, leave it there. I'll have someone come pick it up."

This time, Jobal was successful in dragging Padmé inside, and she didn't bother to certify that the three strangers were following them — giving them just one second to breathe without their presence.

"Nice folks," Han muttered, and neither twin could identify the sarcasm — or lack of — there.

"Let's just take it easy," Leia instructed with a gesture. "It's a lot to take in."

"They're taking it in just fine," Luke inferred.

Leia gave him a look, "That's not the impression I'm getting."

"All things considered, I think they're taking it better than I would have expected," Luke suggested.

With a sigh, Leia conceded. "Let's go in. We don't want to be rude."

The moment Luke Skywalker stepped inside, an inevitable wow escaped his lips, which was immediately followed by a female elbow between his ribs. Rubbing the sore spot, he was mesmerized by the place. The foyer consisted of a high ceiling, leading towards the stairways to the second and third stores of the house. Still by the entrance, there was a hearth room, and they found Padmé and her parents there.

Padmé looked tense, sitting with her back perfectly straight — just like she would when she was fourteen and a Queen, trying to look taller and more confident than she really is. Ruwee had his back anchored against the wall, arms firmly crossed in front of him and a hard expression written over his face, while Jobal talked incessantly to someone over the comm.

"Yes, dear, she's alive! This isn't a prank, Sola, I would never joke about something like this. Your sister is alive and well! Oh, Sola, you must come at once. Do call Ryoo and her husband, will you? This is a miracle, Sola, a miracle! You all must come. This is the happiest day of my life, Sola, hurry up, will you, honey? See you soon, ta ta."

Jobal turned around back to Padmé, her smile still big and bright.

"That was your sister, she couldn't believe it," she said, sitting down next to Padmé. "She will be right over. I told her to call Ryoo, and Pooja is staying with Ryoo for a couple of weeks, so she'll come, too. Oh, dear, I know this must feel overwhelming, but everybody will be so happy that you're here. You're alive, Padmé…!"

"It's not overwhelming for her," Ruwee grunted. "She knew we were alive. She's not the one entitled to be overwhelmed."

"No, but she's not entitled to your anger either, Ruwee," Jobal pointed out, her face for the first time taking a graver expression, even if it disappeared too soon. "Oh, darlings, don't just stand there. Come on, sit, make yourself at home."

Leia gazed at Luke briefly, seeing him swallow hard in discomfort. As expected — by her, mostly — tension was already starting to arise. Still, she was the first one to accept Jobal's offer, lodging herself in a two-seater sofa. Han was about to take place by the arm of that same sofa, until he saw Leia's scolding eyes on him and chose to civilly sit next to her, as a normal and well-educated person would.

Luke preferred to stand, but he tried to look a little less tense. Leia decided not to look at him anymore to see how badly he was failing at that.

"Ruwee, darling, why don't you go make yourself useful and tell the cook that dinner will be a little more elaborated today?" Jobal suggested, carrying the same sweet tone as Leia's when she was giving an order disguised as a request. "You must be starving from the trip. Where are you coming from?"

"Coruscant," Padmé answered cordially, attempting at a smile while she erased from view her father silently leaving towards the butler's pantry.

"Coruscant! Just like old times, then," Jobal said cheerfully, then turning to Leia, "She used to be a Senator, you know. She would travel between Coruscant and Naboo all the time, although the travels grew less frequent towards the end."

Leia smiled diplomatically, and hers was far more convincing than Padmé's. Not because Padmé lacked training, but simply because that wasn't her family that Leia was dealing with.

"It's thrilling but assiduous the life of a Senator," Leia proposed, and if she felt Luke rolling his eyes at her over-politeness, she ignored it.

"You're most right, dear," Jobal concurred, "Leia, is it not?"

"That's right."

"It's a lovely name," she continued, pensive, her eyes now fixated on Leia. Looking at her from head to toe, until Leia crossed her legs, uncomfortable at the inspection. Jobal delicately nodded with her head, saying, at last, in a whisper, "You look like her."

And then she turned to Padmé again, leaving the comment in the air. Leia pressed her lips together, her hands now clasped over her lap.

"Mama," Padmé gently called for her, although she said nothing else.

"Forgive me, Padmé, I just can't contain my happiness," Jobal said earnestly, extending her hand to place a lock of hair behind Padmé's ear. "I am so happy that you're home. Padmé, you don't understand what it is like for a mother to lose a child. It is the worst feeling there is."

Padmé's initial thought was — she did; she knew exactly how it felt like. However, she didn't enunciate just yet, not when Jobal started crying in front of her — and this time, she wasn't crying out of happiness.

"Oh, Mama," Padmé leaned forward and hugged her mother again. Allowing her mother to cry against her chest. "I am so sorry, Mama. I'm so sorry."

Jobal tightened her arms around her daughter; she never wanted to let go. She didn't move until she quietened her sobs into sniffs.

"It's alright, child," Jobal said, her voice shaking as she wept her tears away. "You're home again, and that's what matters."

Padmé shook her head. "No, it's not alright. And I will tell you everything soon, I will explain everything, and then you and Papa will decide whether to forgive me or not. For now, I just want to have one moment of peace, you know? Before we dive into the complexity of it all. I am — exhausted from all the complications. All I want is a moment to be free of worries, just to be with you and Papa, like when I was a child under your protection."

Jobal cupped Padmé's face. "There's nothing to forgive, Padmé."

Ruwee announced his entrance with a bitter laugh, and he carried a cup of whiskey on his right hand. "I beg to differ."

"Ruwee," Jobal lectured him again. "Don't you think it's a little too early for drinking?"

"My daughter just came back from the dead, Jo," he replied grumpily. "I think a drink is very due."

"Ruwee," Jobal kept saying his name, "Can't you at least pretend to be happy?!"

"You're very mistaken, my dear, as I don't have to pretend to be happy," he offered. "I don't recall the last time I was this happy."

"He has a very funny way of showing it," Luke thought at his sister. "Hey, just like you, Leia—"

Leia's neck snapped back until she found her brother. "I will shut off our connection if you don't have anything useful to say."

Discreetly shaking his head, Luke huffed. Leia gracefully turned back around only to find Padmé's panicking eyes on her, because of course she knew what she and Luke were doing. Leia looked apologetically, mouthing sorry and straightening her back again.

Lucky for her, Jobal Naberrie didn't catch a sign of all their wordless interactions. "You sound very accusatory for someone who claims to be happy, Ruwee."

Ruwee merely shrugged, dropping down at a big armchair. "I'm sorry if that's your perception of me, Jobal."

Jobal narrowed her eyes at her husband before turning back to her daughter.

"You look so beautiful, Padmé," she commented, "Tell me what you were up to these past years. I must know everything."

"I—" Padmé stuttered, "Already?"

"You're right, we should wait for Sola," Jobal concluded. "She'll want to know, too, and we don't want to overwhelm you so you'll have to tell everything twice. Oh, poor Sola. She didn't take your death easily."

"None of us did," Ruwee emphasized, raging.

Padmé swallowed hard. "Papa, if you have something you wish to say…"

"Ruwee, don't," Jobal stopped him. "Now is not the time."

Padmé reached out for her mother's hand. "Mama, let him speak. It's okay, I understand. I was dead, and now I'm not, and Papa is allowed to feel angry. I would rather we confront this now than to postpone it only to have an outburst later on."

Ruwee placed his glass over the sofa armrest. "This is family business. It shouldn't be discussed in front of strangers."

"These are not strangers, Papa," Padmé assured, briefly looking at the three of them. "Not to me. They're… They're family. They're staying, they're not going anywhere."

He tilted his head, "That's the thing, Padmé, you have a too modern concept of family for my old mind. You throw them away like they don't matter at all, only to what—go find yourself a new one?"

Padmé looked down on her hands, anxiously fidgeting with them over her lap. "That's not fair, Papa."

"Not fair?! I know I have taught you better than to resort to the unfairness of life, Padmé," Ruwee pointed a finger at her, "But since you want to speak about unfairness, I'll start. Unfair is you faking your own death and leaving your family to mourn you! You broke our hearts, Padmé!"

Padmé did not defend herself. She accepted her father's chastisement with her head down.

"If I may," Leia spoke up for the first time, leaning her body slightly forward. She knew she shouldn't interfere, but she hated seeing how vulnerable Padmé looked as of then; that wasn't the fierce woman she knew. "Padmé didn't have a choice. She did what she had to protect both herself and you, her family."

"You may not, child," Ruwee rudely addressed her. "Just because Padmé wants you here, you don't get to speak over my household. You did not undergo my family's grief."

"Just because you're mad at Padmé, Ruwee, you don't get to redirect your anger at a poor darling that you've just met," Jobal reprimanded him. "Leia has done nothing to you."

"Then tell her to leave so we can have this conversation in private," he demanded, "Tell them all to leave!"

Luke took a step forward, "Sir, I understand that our presence here is an inconvenience. You don't understand why we've come and I assure you that in time all your questions will be answered. However, for the time being, and I say this with the utmost respect for you, sir, but we're not leaving unless Padmé asks us to. We're here for her, after all. To support her."

"To support her in seeing her family?" Ruwee disregarded everything else he said, "Well, Padmé, I didn't expect we were such a big burden for you. You should have stayed dead if that was the case!"

"Ruwee!" Jobal yelled. "I don't care how angry you are, you will not say that ever again! Your daughter came back to you, and you'd better swallow your bitterness because I know that you're not better off without Padmé. You forget that I shared your grief for twenty-three years, and I'll be damned if you do anything that leads me to lose my daughter again."

Although Ruwee looked at his wife fuming, her words were enough to silence him, or maybe it was the betrayal written over Jobal's eyes that he was doing everything in his power to scare away their daughter again. Either way, Ruwee found solace in his drink again.

Jobal ran her hand against the corner of her eyes, taking a deep breath to recompose herself.

"We don't want you to go, Padmé," she stated, the unsaid loud and clear in the air — please don't go again, Padmé.

"I know, Mama," Padmé smiled shyly, at last looking at her mother again.

She leaned forward to kiss Jobal on the cheek before standing up, and she ignored Jobal's loud gasp as the elder woman thought she had decided to leave nonetheless.

Padmé stood tall directly in front of her father, her fists clenched to her sides. Ruwee looked up at her indifferently, like he was expecting her to throw a show, but he was not ready for all the words that poured out of her lips—

"You and Mama always taught me the importance of family, Papa. You taught Sola and me that we can always rely on each other, no matter how silly the circumstances, and you taught us to support one another when we were going through something. When the choice of ever coming back home was taken from me, I could not rely on you, I could not support you. I had to hurt you in order to save you, and I will not apologize for that. If you can't forgive me for choosing to keep you safe at all costs, then we'll both have to live with it for the rest of our lives."

She didn't falter, and Rubee looked vulnerable for the first time.

"You and Mama taught me the value of family, and you cannot fault me for making a family elsewhere. You taught me that I should always protect those dear to me, because if I show how much I care for them, they might just do the same for me. Well, Papa, that's what they're here for. They're my friends, my family. They've been with me during the most pivotal moments of my life and I would never come back home if it weren't for them, supporting me, being there for me. Because I showed my love for them and now they're doing the same for me. Isn't that what you always taught me, Papa? Isn't that what you always wanted for me?"

She was digging her nails deep into her skin as she spoke, and somewhere during her speech, Ruwee lost the will to look at his daughter. His gaze fell to the floor and he was no longer holding the glass of whiskey.

Seeing that her father had subdued, Padmé walked closer to him and dropped to her knees in front of him, both finding his hands on hers and forcing him to acknowledge her presence there.

"Papa," she started again, her words tamer, "Coming back home was the hardest choice I ever made. They gave me the strength to return, they reminded me of what it's like to have a family. That doesn't mean there was ever a day that passed by that I didn't think of you, or of Mama, or of Sola, or of everything that I was missing out with my being gone. And I knew that coming back would raise too many questions, too many feelings of hurt and betrayal for the way I simply walked out on you, but I had to come back. Because, Papa, I already missed out on too much, and I don't want to miss out on anymore. Above all, I don't want you to miss out on the rest of my life, on everything that I achieved for myself in these past years."

Ruwee shakily pulled his hands away from her, looking away. He sat on her words until they started to weigh on him, and, without his awareness, teardrops started to stream down his cheeks. He remained pensive for a moment, and then the blank expression on his face turned into painful sobs, and he found himself crying in the arms of the daughter that he had buried decades ago.

Jobal was smiling, although her eyes peacefully rested on Leia and Han sat across from her, as she wanted to ensure father and daughter of their privacy.

"Ruwee's always been headstrong, you see," she commented to the couple, "Much like Padmé. Politicians, you know? No matter how small their positions are, they always carry this quality with them. Pooja inherited it too. Unlike Sola and I, and perhaps even Ryoo — we are rather gentle and docile by nature. In the end, Padmé was always the only one who could ever knock some sense into him."

Leia nodded in concurrence, briefly looking to her brother, only to find him already staring at her. Huffing to herself, she smiled at her brother's innate amiable soul.

"You have to understand, Padmé, this is a lot for your old man," Ruwee whispered to his daughter, cupping her face with both his hands and immersing himself into the immensity of her kind eyes. "I'm used to burying my daughter every time I wake up in the morning after being blessed with the dreams where she's still alive."

"You don't need to explain yourself, Papa, I understand," Padmé said, "And this isn't a dream. You don't have to be afraid of opening your eyes anymore."

Ruwee rubbed his thumbs across Padmé's cheeks. "I believe you, child."

Padmé smiled warmly; knowing that they still had a long way to go but the first step had been taken already.

The front door was thrown open all of sudden, retrieving everybody's attention towards it and revealing a desperate woman walking in.

"Where the fuck is she? Padmé?"

Padmé quickly rose to her feet again and suddenly it was just the two of them there, everybody else faded from existence. Several feet from her, Sola froze.

Padmé slowly walked towards her. She couldn't understand the thrill coming from her chest as she now realized her sister was the one she had been looking forward the most to see her sister, even more than her own parents. She missed their sisterly bond, perhaps even more than usual as she was now bearing the twins' annoying sibling habits beforehand. Mostly, she missed being annoying with her own sister and sharing their secret codes, and just gossiping about everything and nothing at all.

She stood right in front of Sola and stopped moving, too. Her mother had been too happy to see her, her father had been heartbroken, and she had known it from the moment she saw them. Sola's face, however, was blank, safe from her shaking pupils at the sight of her sister.

Padmé waited. She had mastered the art of patience during her exile.

And she wasn't at all surprised when Sola struck her palm against her face.

"Sorry, I needed to check that you were real real," Sola claimed.

"I see," Padmé responded raspily. "Did you get your proof?"

"Yes," Sola nodded, "Real in flesh and bone. Striking you was always inconvenient, your pointy and flat face hurt my hand more than my slap hurt you."

"Hm," Padmé hummed, "Some things never change."

"Actually, your face went from flat to flabby."

"And the same can't be said about you?"

"Of course not, sweetheart, facial liftings do wonders for the skin."

Padmé rolled her eyes, but her lips opened into a bright smile.

"Come here, you old hag."

Padmé choked half a laugh, half a sob as Sola stepped forward and welcomed her in a sisterly embrace.

"You're older than me," Padmé commented, holding her tight.

"Still a hag nonetheless," Sola assured her.

"Okay."

When Sola pulled back at last, she left her hands on Padmé's shoulder. "Oh, I hate you. Heaven's sake, Padmé, how much do I hate you."

"I know," Padmé said, smiling with the corner of her mouth.

Sola's eyes wandered past Padmé. "You're going to introduce me to everybody else?"

"Right," they broke their physical contact and walked side by side into the hearth again.

Luke was waiting for them on his feet, and Leia politely stood up as well as Sola entered the room.

"Sola, this is—"

"Shut up, Padmé," Sola silenced her, raising her hand in the air to guarantee Padmé's quietude. A frown took over her expression as she enchantingly studied the young boy in front of her. "I know you, don't I?"

"I—" Luke stuttered, nervously clasping his hands in front of him. He couldn't infer whether she was recognizing him from his inevitable resemblance to Anakin or from the HoloNet. "I don't know…?"

"You do, Sola," Ruwee spoke up again, and he didn't bother to greet his older daughter. "They're famous."

"What?" Jobal scowled her eyes at her husband, "Nonsense, Ruwee. Your mind is playing tricks on you. They're just — kids."

"I might be a retired politician, Jobal, but that doesn't mean I turned a blind eye to the political situation to the rest of the galaxy," he explained. "My daughter died fighting against the Empire. The only way of keeping alive was to closely follow everything that the rebellion she inspired to create did against the Empire."

Padmé gazed at father silently; the wound of her death wouldn't be magically healed from her return.

"I've been watching them ever since they arrived, trying to put a face to their names," Ruwee continued, "I think I've finally figured it out."

Luke and Leia exchanged apprehensive looks.

"Well, Papa, don't keep us in suspense," Sola prompted, seeing that the three strangers were too uncomfortable to start speaking for themselves.

"That," Ruwee Naberrie gestured towards the boy, "Is Luke Skywalker, the Jedi known for defeating Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader."

Sola and Jobal's eyes fell on Luke, making him rather sheepish. No matter how long it had passed, he would never feel at ease with this alleged fame that fell onto him given his status as the last Jedi.

Especially when — the credit was misplaced. Luke's only role in the destruction of the Galactic Empire was the goodness in his heart that allowed him to see the light persevering within Anakin.

"My my, we have a celebrity amongst us," Sola commented, her arms crossed. "I should have expected my sister to be mingling with the rebellion. It suits her, where else would she go that would require her to fake her own death?!"

Her question was rhetorical, and Luke forced a smile at his aunt. He wouldn't overstep over Padmé's right to tell her story on her own tempo, but he wished she would just get on with it so he could drop the façade.

He didn't like pretending, principally not amidst family.

Jobal got up, her attention for the first time in the evening not entirely centered around Padmé's presence. "Master Skywalker, what an honor to meet you. The entire galaxy is in your debt, you know, we owe our freedom to you! And to have you escort my Padmé back home — I might be more indebted to you than any other sentient being in the galaxy."

Luke clumsily accepted Jobal's hand. "There is no debt, Mrs. Naberrie."

"Oh, please, call me Jobal."

"Of course, Jobal," he bowed his head, "I'm just Luke."

"Just Luke," Sola reiterated, still studying him carefully. "Funny, that's not from where I thought I recognized you. I had tied your face to the Jedi, yes, but to a completely different one."

Not expecting him to answer, Sola gazed at Padmé. Padmé swallowed uncomfortably, begging with her eyes for her sister to take it slowly; lucky for her, Sola seemed to have understood the message all too well.

"I — don't know how to answer that," Luke stuttered.

Sola laughed it away, turning to the third woman standing. "I assume you're a big shot, too."

Leia crossed her arms, apprehensive, and if she had any intention of speaking, Ruwee Naberrie beat her to it.

"She is," he said, looking curiously at Leia's profile. "That's Leia Organa."

Jobal narrowed her eyes at him; her husband was mistaken, she knew better than him. "No, it's not—"

"Leia Organa, now, where have I heard this name before…" Sola spoke over her mother, staring pensively at the young woman in front of her.

Ruwee was quick to provide, "That's the princess who got her planet blown up."

Leia's jaw became tense and her hands dropped her sides rigidly; the silence that took over the room was uncomfortable and every strangers' eyes had fallen upon her.

Yet, she did not look down, she did not flutter. She spoke with every conviction in her body, "I did not blow up Alderaan."

"What? For heaven's sake, child, no one in their sane minds would think that," Ruwee grunted, sounding almost too angry. "That was the Empire's desperate attempts at silencing you. Look how well that turned out for them."

Leia did not acknowledge the compliment.

Jobal gasped a loud sigh, having the attention back at her — intentionally or not.

"I was so certain," she cried in a whisper that everybody heard. Her glassy eyes turned to Leia, "You look just like her, you know."

Decided to save Leia from the Alderaan conversation that she wasn't there to have, Padmé returned to her seat next to her mother. "Well, Mama, that's where things get complicated."

Jobal shook her head, disheartened. "You were pregnant, Padmé. We not only lost our daughter but our grandchild, too. And to have you come back home without them… Something terrible must have happened so you'd lose them. Oh, my Padmé, the pain of losing a child is so unbearable, you should never have had to go through something so — so cruel!"

"You're right, Mama, it's a kind of pain I wouldn't wish on anybody else," Padmé said emotionally, avoiding looking at either of the twins — Leia had sat back down again and Luke stood by her side, with his hand on her shoulder; the moment was coming. Things were about to get even more intense. "I never got to carry in my arms the baby that I carried in my womb, and there's not a day that passes by that I don't think of all the things that I missed."

Sola and Ruwee looked at her with pity.

"Oh, Padmé," Jobal cupped her face once again, both to provide comfort and because she suddenly longed for physical contact with her daughter. "To think you had to go through that alone…"

Padmé sighed heavily; she sometimes wondered if her pain of losing her baby would have been easier to carry if only she was surrounded by a strong and loving support system.

"Mama, it's okay," she said, more convincing this time, "It's perfectly okay now."

Jobal looked at her with a scowl. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Padmé."

Padmé stood up again, positioning herself next to the twins.

"Mama, Papa," Padmé addressed them with the same voice she would use at the Senate. "You've met the heroes of the rebellion, Master Skywalker and Senator Organa. Now, I would like you to meet my twins — Luke and Leia."

Leia had her composure intact, like she was once again sitting through a royal ceremony at the palace of Aldera, her face blank from any expression. She held her head high, even though she made eye contact with nobody. Luke, on the other hand, dropped his gaze to the floor, anxiously tracing invisible lines on the ground with his foot. Yet, there was a shy smile on the corner of his lips, one that he couldn't get rid of.

If Han had already been deeply ignored ever since they stepped inside, he then became invisible.

"W—what?"

Joba was the first one to utter a sound; she was confused, unable to make sense of things. Unable to understand how these two kids that bore different last names and different titles were suddenly related to her daughter—

Ruwee abruptly stood up, and the look on his face was unreadable. He walked closer to the twins, examining from head to toe, trying to assess with his eyes the words that he was struggling to process with his mind.

"Well well well," Sola was the only one to act coherently. "This is an unexpected surprise. Twins?!"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am," Luke pronounced himself, as being the closest to Sola had him assuming he ought to answer her.

"Ma'am? Do I really look that old?"

"Sola," Padmé reprimanded her.

"Not the point, right," Sola nodded with her head. "I feel old, though. How old are you again?"

"Twenty-three," Luke said, biting his tongue before he accidentally called her ma'am again.

"Twenty-three—oh, I am old," Sola concluded, "I can't believe it's been twenty-three years since my sister died, it feels like yesterday. No offense to your life, Padmé."

"None taken," Padmé moaned.

"Padmé was so certain she was having a boy, at least she was half right about it," Sola continued, carrying on with her goofy persona for the sake of Padmé's sanity, who was very much losing her mind regardless next to her. "Hey, kiddo, I'm your aunt, I know I'm not that good looking but you can look me in the eye. I promise I won't turn you into stone."

Luke laughed nervously but did as he was told. "You'll have to forgive me, this feels very new to me."

"To you and everybody else in the room," Sola offered him a pointed stare. "Welcome to the family. Making things awkward is our specialty."

Luke clumsily took her hand. "I am afraid I don't know how to answer that, either."

Sola displayed her lips flatly. "My goodness, you're just like him. He didn't know how to respond to my bickering, either."

This time, Luke clung to his silence.

While her parents were still in shock with the information, Sola directed her eyes towards Leia's frigid expression and posture. She was about to address her when she was reminded of the third stranger next to her niece, so she decided to talk to him first.

"And who you might be?"

"I'm just the designated pilot," Han shrugged, although his hand on Leia's back might have hinted at something else.

"He's being modest," Leia finally said — and she couldn't believe she was actually saying those words about Han. "He's a decorated general with the rebel alliance."

Sola hummed. "I don't think he's the only one being modest," she referred to their close physical contact, making Leia blush.

Sola sat over the coffee table, allowing her to be at the same eye level as Leia. Leia established eye contact, but her expression was still blank.

"Mama is right, you look just like my sister," Sola commented softly. "You have the same eyes, the same — fire in your eyes."

Leia compressed her lips, saying nothing. Sola smiled sadly at her.

"Padmé?" Jobal called for her youngest daughter; her cheeks were wet. "I—I don't understand."

Padmé turned to her mother with lifeless eyes.

"These are your grandchildren, Mama," she answered simply, "In the end, that's what matters."

"Things are never that simple," Ruwee alleged, that same anger from before back on his voice. "You gave your own children away?!"

Padmé didn't miss the accusatory tone there. "If things are never that simple, Papa, then we shouldn't simplify them."

She held her gaze on her father, not allowing his rage to cower her.

"I understand that it's a lot to process, everything is," she commanded the room with her voice, "But I'm home, and I've brought your grandchildren, too. I don't expect things to go perfectly, but I would assume that you would show at least some eagerness that the grandchildren you were so enthusiastic for still live."

Before anybody else could answer, the front door swung open again — clearly ringing the bell was a foreign concept for the Naberrie family. Two women came in, wearing outfits that weren't that far away from pajamas, and they rushed to the hearth where everybody else was.

"Padmé?!"

"Leia?!"

Ryoo and Pooja exclaimed the names at the same time according to which women first caught their attention. Ryoo still remembered her aunt from her childhood, after all, she had been almost ten years old when she was put on a black dress and told she had to forever say goodbye to Aunt Padmé. However, Pooja had been only five, and her memories of Padmé were scarce, almost nonexistent; to her, Padmé had always been a myth, a force larger than life that she just happened to share a bloodline with.

Leia jumped on her feet; for the time, her face broke into some relief of meeting someone she was acquainted with already.

Padmé, on the other hand, looked at her grown nieces with awe.

"You're pregnant?!"

Ryoo protectively put her hands over her womb, a hesitant smile breaking into the corner of her lips. "Aunt Padmé, I would have expected at least a hello first."

Padmé brought her hand to her mouth, slightly embarrassed. "You'll have to forgive me, Ryoo, but the last time I saw you you were just a child, and now you're with a child yourself."

Ryoo walked up closer to Padmé, leaving her sister and Leia to simply stare at each other. "That's what you get for skipping out on family, Aunt Padmé. We grow up."

"That you did," Padmé said, and they hugged at last. "You're turning my sister into a grandmother. Has she forgiven you for that already?"

Ryoo anxiously laughed. "I think she's doing alright, all things considered."

Padmé looked over to her sister, unable to understand how Sola's face remained unresponsive to her teasing, but she stored that information for another opportunity.

"Leia?" Pooja said the Princess's name again. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you get the memo, Pooja?" Ruwee spoke bitterly. "I assumed you would, since you spend more time amongst the politics of Coruscant than here with us."

Pooja frowned at her grandfather, unsure as to why he was suddenly so accusative of her job as a Senator when he once was so proud that she had set out to make a difference at the Imperial Senate before it got dismantled.

"Grandpa, you'll have to be a little more specific than that," Pooja demanded, seeing that Leia was too dazed to start speaking for herself. Which by itself was odd, as Leia was one of the most outspoken people Pooja had ever met.

"It would seem that Princess Leia is your cousin, Pooja."

Pooja's jaw dropped as she stared at Leia again. "Get out of here."

Leia self consciously wrapped her arms around herself; she had been trained for all sorts of diplomatic situations growing up, but never for something as surreal as that.

"N—no, that's not possible," Pooja opposed, laughing to herself. "She's the Princess of Alderaan, she — she's an Organa!"

Ruwee ironically huffed, "That's what we're trying to understand for ourselves, Pooja."

"Will all of you take a step back and breathe for a second," Jobal finally started talking again, "You're quarreling the poor things. They're not used to being ambushed like this."

"They?" Ryoo asked, more confused by the second.

"Hi, I'm Luke Skywalker," Luke stepped in, making himself seen for the two new people in the room. "Leia's twin brother."

"Twin brother? Leia doesn't have a twin brother," Pooja exclaimed, sure of it.

"I thought you were a Jedi," Ryoo pointed out.

Luke chuckled nervously, "Those aren't mutually exclusive, you know."

"I wouldn't know, the Jedi are extinct," Ryoo replied, a cold expression over her face.

"Hopefully, not for long," Luke answered honestly.

"I think Mama is right," Sola announced, banging her hands against her thighs. "It's rather crowded here."

"Thank goodness we didn't bring Shiloh, then," Pooja said to her sister.

"Shiloh?" Padmé asked, her eyebrows shot up.

"My husband," Ryoo declared. "He wanted to come, but — he's not a Naberrie by blood, and he wasn't here when we lost Padmé. He doesn't understand our grief, so we judged it better for him to stay behind. At least for tonight, while things get a little — less tense."

"You sensed that things would be tense?" Luke innocently asked, unable to refrain from his excitement that he might have found another Force sensitive person.

"It's a logical deduction when your mother calls you screaming and wailing that her sister was alive," Ryoo spoke gravely.

All eyes fell on Sola again.

"What?" Sola acted baffled, "Can't a girl have a moment here anymore?!"

Padmé swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," she whispered because she didn't have the strength to speak louder.

Sola shot her shoulders up and down. "Your apology is irrelevant. We buried you and we mourned you in spite of your apology."

"I didn't have a choice."

"No, Padmé, you made a choice," Sola corrected her. "We're the ones who didn't have a choice but to drown on our grief for you."

Padmé swallowed her pride and didn't try to refute that; she had no right to erasing her family's grief just because she had come back.

"Why don't we take it easy," Jobal suggested, as she was the only one not stuck in the past but just thrilled to have her daughter back. "We're overwhelming Padmé and the twins."

"And they're not overwhelming us?" Ruwee threw back at her.

Jobal policed her husband with her eyes. "If you want to remain bitter at Padmé, Ruwee, I won't steal that from you. But I'll not allow you to lash out at the kids, they had no control over any of this. They were babies when it all went down."

"Yeah, babies that we didn't get to see! Or to hold!" Ruwee accused loudly. "Babies that we buried. We mourned for them just as we mourned for Padmé."

"If it makes you happier, Papa, I mourned for my babies too," Padmé informed, her fired fueled by Ruwee's misplaced anger at the twins. "Every single day ever since the day I died, I felt the loss of the baby I never got to carry. You're not the only one who lost everything, I did too. I lost my family, I lost Anakin, I lost my children, I lost — my name. I mourned for you all just as much as I mourned for myself."

Ruwee fell silent, and he was the only one still gazing at Padmé. Everybody else was looking away.

For a long time, father and daughter simply stared at each other, tears sparkling in both their eyes.

Decided she had had enough, Jobal stepped towards the twins. "Come now."

Sola frowned at her mother. "Where are you going?"

"Look what you are doing to them. His hands are trembling and she's so pale," Jobal accused, gently grabbing Leia and Leia by their wrists. "Family is already difficult enough when you're not being ambushed by strangers you've just met. Come now, dears."

Without much of a choice, the twins left the room alongside Jobal.

"That woman loves grandchildren way too much," Sola inferred, then turning her head towards her daughters. "I'm afraid the days of spoiling just ended for the two of you."

"This isn't funny, Sola," Ruwee reprimanded her.

"Well, Papa, you have to admit it kind of is."

Shaking her head, Padmé left after her kids, leaving five adults behind to brood.

Sola sighed, leaning back on the coffee table she was still sitting on. She narrowed her eyes at Han, "Who are you, again?"

"I'm Shiloh," he answered, deadpan.

She laughed loudly at that. "Well, Ryoo, you heard the man. Better bring out our own Shiloh tomorrow so—what's your name again?"

"Han."

"—So Han here doesn't feel too left out. Welcome to the family. It's chaos, you'll love it."

Han huffed.

Bothered that they were all dealing with the situation as if nothing major was happening, Ruwee left the room as well.

A/N: okay, yeah, that was a rollercoaster lmao poor naberries

let me know what you think!