Jobal, Luke, and Leia stood still in the middle of the hall, staring at a huge picture on the wall.

"It doesn't look like her," Luke asserted, studying closely the image of this young child in regal clothes and elaborated makeup and hairstyle. He was mesmerized by her grandiosity.

"That was the intention, dear," Jobal said, admiring the portrait of Queen Amidala. Ever since Padmé's passing, she would often find herself staring at that picture for hours straight, just reminiscing all the things that her daughter had once been. "Padmé believed that she couldn't be seen as an individual during her reign; she couldn't be humanized, so she erased every aspect of her identity. Even her name. She wasn't Padmé, but Queen Amidala. That's the name she chose for herself. The name she wanted to be remembered by."

Luke listened attentively, trying to attribute those qualities to the woman he knew. "She looks like a force of nature."

"That she was," Jobal agreed proudly, "One of the best queens we've ever had — and I don't say that merely because I'm her mother. No, she was truly outstanding. The Naboo relation to the Gungans has restored all thanks to her, and that's just one of her many good deeds as our Monarch."

"Gungans?" Luke asked, unaware of who they might be.

"Oh, they're the native population of Naboo," she clarified, "They had a tense and uneasy relationship with the Naboo until Padmé stepped in and united the people, making us stronger than before."

"She sounds so — ethereal."

Jobal gently laughed. "On the contrary, my dear. She's one of the most grounded people you'll ever meet. A great aspect to have when you're looking to guide a whole planet."

Luke nodded, interested, but knowing that politics behind politics relied solely on the women of his close family. Hence why he finally let go of Amidala's picture and turned over to his sister, who was still studying the figure with admiration.

"You're very quiet," he observed, leaning with his shoulder in her direction.

"Oh, let her be, Luke," Jobal intruded, "It can't be easy being here. For neither of you. To have us hovering and pointing and making accusations that don't involve you."

Luke dismissed her worries with a smile. "Have you ever seen Padmé out of words? Out of arguments?"

Jobal tilted her head, taken aback by the suddenness of the question. "I haven't, in fact. Why do you ask?"

Luke huffed. "That's Leia."

Leia rolled her eyes at her brother's perception. "I'm just thinking."

"Yes, dear, there's no trouble in taking a time to reflect," Jobal spoke strongly, and Luke had to hide his sneer at how much she was trying to stay on their good grace. He saw how terrified she was of losing her daughter and these two strangers all over again, and he felt for her.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, despite Jobal.

"I'm thinking," she paused briefly, "Looking at her, and looking back — a lot of things that I didn't understand now make complete sense."

Padmé approached them from behind, relieved that she had finally found them after her mother had kidnapped the twins away from the chaos. Not that she worried that Jobal would do anything that wasn't to their benefit, but she was slightly afraid that her grandmotherly presence would be too much at once. Especially when they weren't used to so many people hovering over them.

Yet, a more homely part of her stopped her from making herself seen immediately. Instead, she leaned back against the wall and silently watched their interactions unfold.

"Can you be a little less vague than that or are you having a moment?" Luke teased his sister, earning a sigh from her.

"I came to Naboo once, when I was 16," Leia reminisced, "On a mercy mission. On Alderaan, the crown didn't just pass on from generation to generation, you had to earn it. The heir had to undergo challenges to prove their worthiness of the title — the challenge of the body, challenge of the mind, and challenge of the heart. For my challenge of the heart, I chose to go on missions to deliver supplies to various suffering populations, particularly those suffering from the Tyranny of the Empire. It always felt wrong that I and Alderaan would have everything while so many people out in the galaxy were struggling under Palpatine's rule, so that's where I chose to make a difference."

Jobal placed her hand on the small of Leia's back in a gentle gesture, and Padmé immediately winced at it, even more so at the comment that followed—

"It's so beautiful, dear, the way you talk about her."

"Her?!" Luke asked, frowning.

"Alderaan."

Padmé raised her hand to her forehead in despair; she really needed to have a conversation with everybody in the household that they couldn't just idly mention Alderaan in conversation without Leia resorting to her defense mechanism and snapping at them.

"I came to Naboo during one of my mercy missions," Leia abruptly changed the matter, slightly leaning forward to evade the unwelcomed hand on her — Padmé sighed in relief when Jobal understood her aversion to physical touching and didn't push further into it. "Precisely, to Onoam — that's one of Naboo's moons, Luke. Onoam is a beautiful place, providing housing for the wealthiest people, but it also housed medicinal spice mines, which by law had to be worked by sentient beings rather than droids. I came bringing aid to miners facing difficult working conditions, I came to help, so I was rather surprised when the miners met the safety equipment with dismay. Turns out the imperial officers were taking their equipment away, either as a punishment or under the claim that the equipment was defective so they could sell it for their own profit."

"You would think that the Empire would at least be more subtle about their tyranny on the Emperor's own home planet," Jobal said, defeated.

Leia sadly nodded. "I couldn't let that carry out, so I met with your current queen, Dalné. I was covered in dust so I borrowed a dress from Dalné, and as you can see from Padmé's picture, Naboo's monarchs tend to — dress up, especially in comparison to Alderaan's simple traditions. So I was wearing this fancy and extravagant white dress as we went to talk to the Grand Moff in charge of Onoam, ah, what was his name again? Grand Moff Panaka."

Padmé's eyes widened; Quarsh Panaka, the head of security of her mandate, the man that she and her fellow teenaged handmaidens used to play tricks on, had become a Grand Moff for the Empire?!

That couldn't be; Quarsh Panaka was a good man—

"I did my best to bring to Grand Moff Panaka's attention the situation of the miners, but he simply didn't care," Leia said sourly, "Instead, he was far more interested in who I was. He asked me about my adoption, he asked how long before I had been born, he asked me about the identity of my birth parents. Then, he said he would be speaking to Palpatine about this exceptional daughter that the Organas had adopted."

Padmé suddenly felt dizzy, and she was forced to lean her hand against the wall before she fully lost her balance. It didn't matter that Leia's story was too many years into the past, it didn't matter that Leia was now safe and sound in front of her; the mere idea of Emperor Palpatine coming close to either of their children made her sick to her stomach.

"I couldn't understand it back then, but today, looking at this picture of Queen Amidala, I finally can put the pieces together," Leia continued faintly. "I — I look just like her. Grand Moff Panaka must have been close to her because he immediately recognized me. He looked at me and he saw that I was Padmé's daughter, and he was going to tell Emperor Palpatine all about me."

"He didn't," Luke pointed out. "Otherwise you… You would have been dead or taken immediately after, Leia."

Leia wrapped her arms around herself, overpowered by all the memories that were coming back to her.

"The only reason he didn't was that he was assassinated two seconds after I left his presence."

"Captain Panaka is dead?!"

Jobal turned around with her heart beating a little faster than before as she was startled by Padmé's loud exclaim. Padmé hadn't intended to make herself heard just as of yet, but she had been taken aback with that information — there was still a big part of herself that cared for the man that had done everything in his power to keep her safe during her reign.

Unlike Jobal, the twins barely flinched, still staring at the big picture in front of them.

"Padmé, I thought I had taught you better than to eavesdrop on conversations to which you weren't invited," she lectured her daughter.

Padmé was still too fazed aghast to defend herself.

"She wasn't eavesdropping," Luke spoke on her behalf.

"Whatever does that mean?" Jobal pondered, confused.

"We knew she was here the moment she came in," Leia answered softly, her eyes fixated on the image of Amidala rather than on Padmé standing right behind her.

Padmé took a few steps ahead, enough to pass by the twins and position herself in front of the frame on the wall.

"Captain Panaka is dead," she said again, a little more composed this time.

"Whoever you're talking about died alongside the Republic," Leia elaborated. "Grand Moff Panaka was assassinated on his chalet on Onoam after a bomb went off. Had Queen Dalté or I said just another word to him, we would have died alongside him."

Padmé looked at her with her heart thundering on her throat; yet, she knew that the memories of her close call to death weren't what bothered Leia the most.

"It's for the best that Panaka died," Padmé concluded. "History would have gone a lot differently if his death had been delayed by just five minutes and he succeeded in making a call to Palpatine."

"Yeah," Leia visibly shivered. "It's funny, my mother was one of the strongest women I ever met. No matter what happened, she always remained calm and collected. But I never saw her as shaken as that day, when I told her what had happened — and it wasn't due to my close encounter to death. No, she was terrified of what would have happened to me if Palpatine had learned about me. I only understand it now."

There was that hand on her shoulder again, and Jobal missed Padmé's glare on her. Leia did her best not to pull back this time again.

"There is no greater love in the galaxy than a mother's love for her children," she said. "You only comprehend the depth of it once you become a mother yourself, but the mere idea of losing your child… It's terrifying. Especially when Palpatine himself is threatening this child of yours. I understand very well the fright of your mother, child."

In a gesture that surprised even herself, Leia placed her hand over Jobal's hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Jobal," Leia spoke earnestly, turning her head slightly to look at the woman that she was supposed to call her grandmother. "I might be unable to relate to the pain of losing a child, but… I understand. I understand more than you think."

"Oh, dear," Jobal said softly, stepping forward to embrace Leia in an unasked-for hug — a hug that she probably desired ever since she learned of their parentage. Leia was caught off guard, and her spooked eyes showed as much. Luke had to place his hand over his lips to hide his sneer at his sister's panicked face. "To go through such an immense trauma and yet remain tall on your feet is only proof of your strength. I might have only met you now, but I've always known of you, and I've seen all that you conquered in spite of your pain. We are so very proud of you, Leia."

Padmé and Luke were equally surprised to see Leia soften in Jobal's arms. Leia remained silent.

"Mama," Padmé called her mother's attention, encouraging her to let go of Leia. "We need to talk."

Jobal pulled back, cupping Leia's cheeks with both her hands. "I can imagine you looking just like Padmé when you were younger. You still do. I see her perfectly in your eyes and in your smile. You're just as beautiful."

"Mama," Padmé said again.

"Yes, Padmé, we've all heard you," Jobal cut her out. She let go of Leia and turned to Luke at last. "I'm trying to remember him, but my memory isn't what it used to be. We don't have a single picture of him, you know. It's such a shame that he died so young, he was such a phenomenal young man. I'm trying to see him on you, like I see Padmé on Leia. I think you have his eyes."

Luke looked down, a little self-conscious. He had been told, time and time again, of his resemblance to Anakin, but there was a twinge in his heart knowing that these people had met Anakin in his prime and only remembered him for it.

"He does," Padmé concurred, a little annoyed that her mother was trying to deflect. "Mama, please."

Jobal sighed exaggeratedly, evading Padmé's eyes at all costs. "Padmé, I'm not sure I'm ready to hear of all the terrible things you were forced to endure."

"But they happened, your dread to hear about them does not erase the fact that they happened," Padmé explained gravely. "Mama, I don't want to hurt you, but leaving you in the dark isn't any better. You're owed an explanation, Papa — is owed an explanation."

"I'm fine with you just being here, you know," Jobal cried. "Padmé, I can content myself with little."

"Well, I can't," Padmé rebuked. "I can't be content with being back and pretending all is good when I know nobody has hurt this family more than I have."

"Padmé," Jobal said, lifeless.

"Enough running away, Mama," Padmé demanded softly, taking her mother by the arm and leading her out the galley into the big living room — a common room big enough for everybody to settle with enough space not to become crowded, despite the great number of people there. "The twins will gather everybody else. We need to talk."

Luke and Leia nodded, each leaving in a different direction, as they had already pinpointed the presence of everybody in the house.

"They're extraordinary people, Padmé," Jobal commented, sitting down heavily in one of the couches. "I barely know them, and I can already tell that much. Their grandiosity runs in the family."

Padmé nodded. "Luke is desperate that you'll like him. He lacked a proper family growing up and that's all that he seeks for, that sort of familial approval. Leia, on the other hand, is a lot more reserved. She lost everything, and she struggles to become attached to other people, so scared she is that she will lose everybody she lets in. That doesn't mean that she doesn't want to be here, or that she doesn't want any affiliation with her Naberrie family. She just needs to take things on her own tempo."

"Padmé, you don't have to explain your children to me," Jobal interfered, "I think they're remarkable people. And I am so thankful that you brought them home with you."

Padmé let out a sigh, hoping that Jobal's happiness would somehow prevail as she came to know what had happened twenty years ago.

Leia walked through the door to the study where she knew she would find Ruwee Naberrie, while her brother set out to gather Sola and her daughters alongside Han, who were still assembled in the hearth.

She had expected she would find him brooding, trying to make sense of everything that was going on. Instead, she found him rather composed, sitting behind his desk. What caught her attention the most, however, was the hologram he was watching.

"Sometimes it feels as if nothing could ever have been worth the terrible price we paid. But when we think of those people who perished in the conflict, when we think of our loved ones that no longer stand with us, it falls onto us to preserve their memory and remember that they died for justice. For liberty. For peace. We might have lost them, but we never lost the ideals that they died for."

Leia immediately recognized the voice as her own, and she knew him to be watching her speech at the press conference where she had addressed her guilt and grief for Alderaan. She had never watched it herself, and her memories about what she had said were foggy, as she was functioning on autopilot back then. Now, she acknowledged how her words might have eased the soul of the grieving men.

"They died fighting for what they believed in, and, thanks to their sacrifice, we've stepped out of the darkness back into the light. As survivors, we owe it to them to keep living, to make it worth what they died trying to achieve."

She compressed her lips in a thin life, watching his expression over her reflection on the hologram. Leaning against the doorway, certain that Ruwee had already noticed her presence there.

"As the New Republic consolidates, we are in the eternal debt of these heroes. Because of them, the galaxy is restoring its path in the light again. Heroes like Bail Organa, my adoptive father and Viceroy of Alderaan, who started the Rebel Alliance alongside Mon Mothma and Padmé Amidala."

Ruwee Naberrie paused the transmission at last. He clasped his fingers in front of his chin and looked up at Leia through his lashes.

"You brought her back to life."

Leia crossed her arms, taking the liberty to walk further inside the room and sitting in a chair across from him.

"Nobody had spoken about her ever since the Republic had fallen," he digressed. "Nobody dared to remember her."

Leia's lips turned up sadly. "It was too dangerous to speak of one who died for freedom when the people in charge were against freedom itself."

"That never stopped you, child."

Leia shrugged. Her choices were her own; she couldn't speak for the rest of the galaxy.

"I hope, my dear, you wouldn't think I implied that I bear any blame for you regarding what happened to your home planet," Ruwee said, "I had poorly phrased myself in a moment of anger, although I wasn't angry at you."

She looked down; she hadn't come there to talk about Alderaan.

Ruwee didn't push her, turning his eyes back to the hologram.

"That's her, isn't it," he pointed to a woman standing behind Leia in the transmission, "Padmé."

Leia hummed in acknowledgment.

"I asked her to be there with me," she explained, "Talking about Alderaan takes away my strength, and she was there to support me."

"Just like you're here to support her," he inferred. "I just hope we aren't stealing her of her strength."

"On the contrary," she assured, "You fuel it."

Ruwee shuddered; he wasn't so sure about that.

"I was outraged, to say the least, when the remaining imperial officers accused you of being to blame for Alderaan," he continued, lost in thought. "When it was announced that you were to give a public statement, Jobal and I eagerly watched it. Although we didn't have a voice, my family was never complicit with the Empire. So we watched your speech — and what a beautiful speech it was, my child. Very inspiring, very moving."

"Thank you," Leia accepted warily.

"But the most curious of it all was my wife's observation to me — she looks like Padmé. I thought she was referring to you, of course, as you publicly shared my daughter's views on liberty and antifascism, you shared Padmé's fire. Today, I understand Jobal was referring to the woman standing behind you. She was referring to Padmé herself."

Leia swallowed uncomfortably.

"Padmé sent me to find you," she said at last, "She wants to talk."

He ironically huffed. "Talk. I find myself a little too angered at my daughter to talk to her."

"Let me rephrase, then," she prompted, "Padmé will do all the talking. She just wants you to listen to her."

"I suppose I can give her that benefit."

When Leia and Ruwee made it back to the living room, everybody else was already gathered there. Although there was an empty spot next to Han, Leia chose to sit next to Padmé, just like Luke did; even though they had only met Padmé recently, this story belonged to them nonetheless.

Padmé soon found herself holding both of their hands; they were, after all, her strength.

"Thank you for sitting here with me," Padmé started, only to find out she had no idea how to go beyond that.

"We're all just looking to understand," Sola said; like Padmé herself, she was sitting between both her daughters, having her hand resting on Ryoo's womb. "Because, Padmé, you don't understand the toll that your death left on us."

"It was all very sad," Pooja reminisced. "I don't have many memories of you, Aunt Padmé, but I remember just how it was like. Because the sadness — it never stopped. It went on for years and years and even though I didn't exactly understand what was happening, or why my Aunt Padmé no longer came back home, I felt it. I felt it all."

"I think it might be for the best just to let my mother speak," Luke interfered, waving his free hand carefully. "I don't mean to undermine your grief, but before we start pinning on her the sorrow that her death brought, it's for the best that you listen to what she has to say."

There were lots of soft mumbles, but they seemed to agree to it.

"Okay," Padmé began again, having established her ground. "Well, I think it's for the best that we recall some events that took place during the fall of the Republic. More precisely — the Jedi purge."

A tension took over the room that went further beyond the story Padmé was telling.

"There's no need to recall it, dear," Jobal said sadly. "We are all well aware of it."

"Mama, you might be aware of it, but what it actually means," Padmé told her, sounding more patronizing than she intended. "You had to be there to see the consequences that the eradication of the Jedi brought."

"In case you've forgotten, Padmé, you weren't here either," Sola intervened, angry at her sister's audacity. "You have no idea what the purge meant for us."

Padmé frowned, uncertain of the origin of the hostility. "If I recall correctly, you, nor anybody else in this room, had any ties to the Jedi. I was the only one who knew them, I was the one who — who married them."

Unexpectedly — and surprising no one except for the strangers in the room, and Padmé did consider herself to be one of the strangers — Ryoo let a painful sob escape her lips as she protectively embraced her womb. Sola pulled her daughter in half a hug, her hand lingering over Ryoo's back.

"Shh, it's okay," Sola whispered to Ryoo, but the uncomfortable silence that had taken over the room made it possible for everybody to hear her. "You're alright now. The baby is alright."

A twinge hit Padmé's heart as she wondered what her sister had meant with that. She looked at Pooja, but the young girl's face was unreadable, so she looked at her parents, and there was only pain written on theirs.

"I don't mean to pry, but," she said hesitantly, "What — What is happening? What happened?"

"We suffered from the Jedi purge just as much as you did, my dear," Jobal answered melancholically.

When she noticed that her mother wouldn't say anything further than that, she turned to her sister.

"Sola? Talk to me."

Sola simply shook her head, as it wasn't her story to tell. Instead, she gently rocked Ryoo back and forth until she had calmed herself enough to breathe again.

"Forgive me, Aunt Padmé," Ryoo said shyly. "Hormones."

"Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for," Sola stated, in her brute yet reassuring manner of being.

"Your mother is right, Ryoo," Padmé said, "I am just trying to understand, because Sola is right — I wasn't here for the past two decades. I don't know what took place here. That said, you're not under any obligation of telling me of your turmoils. They belong to you, and you don't have to revisit them on my account."

"Isn't that what you're here for?" Ryoo sniffed, "To revisit your past on our account?"

"It's a choice I made for myself, yes, and one that I had made long before I came here," Padmé explained, "I knew that, if I ever were to make amends to my family, I would have to tell them everything that happened. However, Ryoo, the same doesn't apply to you."

"Can you — Can you tell me about the Jedi purge?" Ryoo asked, "I mean — we know of it, we have a general idea of what happened. But we weren't involved with the Jedi, and you're right, Aunt Padmé — we never understood what the implications of it meant, not until it was too late."

"You don't have to humor your aunt, Ryoo," Sola advised her.

"I'm not," she said, "I'm trying to understand it myself."

Sola sighed in defeat, giving Padmé the clearance to proceed.

"Well, the Jedi Purge marked the ending of the Clone Wars, just as it was the end of the Republic," Padmé started, a little hesitant and watching her sister closely for signs. "It was a period in which the Jedi Order was destroyed by the Sith — namely, Palpatine and Vader — and all the Jedi were hunted by the Galactic Empire to near extinction. Very few Jedi escaped Palpatine's extermination, and the ones that did had no choice but to go into exile, doomed to never use the Force again so the Empire's inquisitors — evil agents tasked with hunting down the remaining Jedi or anyone else that expressed their presence in the Force — wouldn't find them."

"Why?" Ryoo asked, her voice crumbling. "No, I get all that. Theoretically, I understand what happened. What I can't understand is why Palpatine would go to such great lengths to assure the Jedi were no more."

"Palpatine knew that, as long as the Jedi lived, his power would be at risk," Luke stepped into the conversation, knowing that his mother wouldn't mind. After all, he was the authority on the Force in their family. "He needed to make sure that the Jedi wouldn't come back to threaten his reign. That's all he ever feared — the loss of his power, so he dedicated unlimited resources to guarantee that the Jedi were gone, and that the Jedi wouldn't rise anymore."

"Which leads us to the second matter at hand," Padmé pitched in. "Palpatine couldn't just certify that the Jedi were no longer a threat, he had to ensure that nobody else would set out to destroy him. The Emperor was merciless, and he didn't spare the life of any Force sensitive child that was born under his reign. He killed them all—well, he killed almost all of them."

She referred to the twins sitting each by her side and the great lengths that had taken place so their Force sensitivity would be hidden from the Palpatine. After all, they were the only hope to ever bring him down and restore peace to the galaxy again.

Ryoo looked down, her lips trembling. Sola tried to soothe her with her hand tracing circles on her back, but they both knew it was in vain.

"It's not fair."

Padmé firmly nodded, even unsure as to what Ryoo was talking about.

"Children — innocent children, shouldn't have to pay with their life for something they didn't ask for," Ryoo argued, struggling with her emotions. "They — They're just children! They've barely been given a chance to draw in the breath of life!"

"No, it's not fair," Padmé agreed. "But Palpatine was a merciless man. He did not care for the life of others, only for his own."

Unaware of it, Padmé tightened the grip around the twin's hands. Her heart ached at the mere scenario that Palpatine might have found them and killed them — or, considering they were the children of the Chosen One, worse.

Ryoo anxiously agreed with her head, her arms still protectively rubbing her belly.

"Ryoo," Padmé spoke her name, "What happened?"

"I…" Ryoo struggled to even begin, but she still pushed Sola away when the mother told her she didn't have to speak about it. "I had a son, seven years ago."

Padmé simply assented; she knew it to be a sad story already.

"He was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen," she reminisced, a sad smile shaping the corner of her lips as the image of her son blessed her mind. "They drew his blood, to make sure he was perfectly healthy. And he was — he was perfect in every single way. Turns out he was too perfect, and he had been cursed with the Force on him when he was born. I only learned about it after they came for him and ripped him away from my arms, away from my chest, and I was only returned a small lifeless body to bury."

Luke grew uncomfortable at the story; of course he was aware of the fate of every other Force sensitive child in the galaxy, safe for him and for his sister, but to know that a blood relative of his had undergone the unbelievable trauma of having her child taken from her arms — it didn't sit right with him.

Unconsciously, he found himself holding even tighter to Padmé's hand. Leia, however, had let go of it altogether.

"It's a generational thing for the Naberrie family," Pooja spoke sourly. "Every generation here, a woman is cursed to lose their child."

She looked at Jobal, then at Padmé, then at Ryoo. Then, she looked at Leia, silently telling her that the both of them were safe from the curse, as Ryoo had already paid the price on their behalf.

Leia lowered her head, uncomfortable with the implication.

"The difference, Pooja, is that your grandmother and Padmé both got her children back," Sola lectured her younger daughter. "Ryoo will never have that chance."

Pooja fell silent.

"This baby was an accident," she announced quietly, almost ashamed of herself for it. "Shiloh and I had agreed, all those years ago, that we would never have a baby again. Even if the odds of us having yet another Force sensitive child were slime, as they told us, we just couldn't do it. We couldn't put yet another child through it, we couldn't put ourselves through it. I know it was whole seven years ago, but our pain is still as big as if it had happened yesterday. And now that I'm pregnant again… My trauma haunts me every minute of every day."

"I'm sorry, Ryoo," Padmé said softly. "You didn't deserve to go through that."

Ryoo held Sola's hand so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

"I didn't," she agreed. "I was going to have an abortion, you know. I was going to end it."

She left that information lingering in the air, like she was still cogitating it, even though she was clearly past the time frame to terminate her pregnancy.

"What made you change your mind?" Leia asked, her voice about the only steady factor in the whole room. She didn't think she was overstepping on boundaries, not when Ryoo had set up the narrative for everybody in the room.

Besides — everybody else seemed too emotionally shaken to act rationally.

Ryoo looked deep into Leia's eyes.

"You."

Leia frowned, leaning slightly backward as she tried to decipher what that meant.

Ryoo's cheeks flushed immediately, and she looked rather embarrassed.

"That probably creeped you out. Sorry, that wasn't my intention," Ryoo forced out a laugh. "Please don't go thinking I'm one of those stalkers who are just obsessed with you."

Leia smiled at her empathetically. "Ryoo, I've been living underground ever since I was nineteen, surrounded by nasty men whose first goal was to score and maybe overthrow a government afterward. It takes a lot more to creep me out."

Unlike all expectations — Ryoo laughed a delighted laugh.

"Hm—I don't think you're supposed to laugh at that, Ryoo," Pooja reprimanded her sister.

Ryoo's face fell again.

"It was a joke," Leia reassured, "It was supposed to be funny."

"And my sister doesn't make all that many jokes, so you better laugh while you can," Luke added, making a face at his sister that only those sat across from them could see.

Leia huffed in annoyance, earning a smug smile from Luke and laughter from both Ryoo and Pooja. Even Sola, despite all the tension, seemed rather amused by it.

"What I meant, Leia, is that I watched your speech. The one where you addressed Alderaan," Ryoo said, her voice taking a more serious tone. "It was just before I finished my first trimester, so I still had time to have an abortion, and… I was still weighing on my options, and… I heard your speech. There, you said you were Force sensitive, and I think that was what astonished me the most of all the things you said. And Pooja — she was just as confused as I was, after all, she did know you, and she had no idea about it. So, I thought… If you could do it, if you could hide your powers from the Empire, maybe I could do too. Maybe, if my child turned out to be Force sensitive again, I would be able to protect them."

Leia smiled decorously; that was the difference she had always sought to bring to the galaxy. World peace, yes, but also the smallest sense of safety in the lives of the most insignificant beings.

"The Empire fell, Ryoo," Leia said. "Although we're still fighting its remnants, the Sith are dead. They cannot harm the galaxy anymore, they don't have the power to harm the children of the Force anymore."

"And if it brings you any peace of mind, Ryoo," Luke pointed with his chin, "We'll be here. When you give birth, Leia and I will be here to ensure the safety of yours, and of your child. No agent of evil will dare to go against us."

Tears streamed down Ryoo's cheeks again, although they were tears of gratitude this time.

Sola, however, did not appreciate two strangers she had just met making empty promises to her daughter — promises that she would believe and be left scared and heartbroken when they failed to fulfill.

Padmé saw that her sister was about to explode before she could warn her own kids.

"But you're not family," she accused, offering the twins a pointed glare. "You're under no obligation of leaving your daily lives to play babysitter with relatives you have no emotional connection to."

Luke's traits changed from his usual happiness to a hint of sorrow; did his family not want him there at all?

Leia went back to her public persona, a cold veil falling over her expression.

"Sola," Padmé held a threatening tone. "There was no need for that. My children are not to pay for how I hurt this family."

"Your children are intergalactic heroes," Sola threw it back at her, "Why should I expect that they would forsake their duties to come here to protect a random child?"

"Because, ma'am, it's not forsaking our duties when our duty is to protect every citizen of the galaxy," Luke argued, and he didn't hide his hurt at her implication.

"Mummy, that was unwarranted, even for you," Ryoo spoke up, leaning slightly away from her mother.

"Well, forgive me, Ryoo, I didn't know that looking out for your best interest was unwarranted," Sola replied sourly.

"You know that's not what I meant," Ryoo rolled her eyes. "But you—you had no reason to go after them when they were being kind! Just kind, mummy! When the galaxy has been haunted with ugliness and bruteness for so many years now, you'll abnegate the first sign of selfless compassion that comes on your way? That's unjustified."

"Exactly! Why would we trust the first people that show us mercy when this new world order is still so frail?"

"Because if we don't accept it, if we treat with mistreat all acts of gentleness that come before us, then the new world order will be for nothing."

"I would just like to add," Leia commanded the room with her voice before things started to get even tenser, "That Luke and I never break away from the promises we make."

Ryoo held her head proudly at that.

Sola looked at Leia again, her eyes red.

"Heaven's sake—you gotta stop doing that," Sola grunted. "You already look too much like my sister. You don't have to keep reminding me by having her exact same personality, too."

If Leia was amused by the comment, she didn't show it.

By then, Padmé's fingers rested heavily on her forehead; she was exhausted already, and she had barely had the chance to say anything.

"I think we're getting a little sidetracked," Jobal finally chipped in; she and her husband had been simply watching everything unfold silently, inferring from every little interaction — and she had started to notice the fatigue of her daughter. "Why don't we go back a little—Padmé, you were talking about the Jedi purge."

"Yes," Padmé agreed, relieved that someone still remembered why they were gathered in the first place. "I made ignorant remarks on how stray our family was to the Jedi Purge, and I sincerely apologize for that. But since you understand beforehand what it meant to be a child of the Force, you can understand the position I found myself in when I was pregnant with the children of not only a Jedi Master, but the children of the Chosen One himself."

Silence fell over the room again, just like their stares dove into the twins.

"I assume that, to protect them, you were forced to give them up," Ruwee concluded, mildly gesturing at them.

"Lots of measures were taken to assure the safety of the twins," Padmé affirmed, finding it hard to make eye contact. "I, however, was not consulted in any of those choices. Everything that led to my separation from my children happened without my consent."

Luke placed his hand on Padmé's back. He, too, found it very hard to sustain visual contact, unlike his sister, who kept her posture high and intact.

"W—what?" Jobal's voice broke again. "You — you were stolen from her?"

"I was told they were dead," Padmé spoke hoarsely, and she thought it important that she told it on her own terms; she dreaded that any blame would be placed on the twins or the life they had. "A Padawan to whom I was close with during the Clone Wars faked my death, just like the Jedi Masters I was with faked the death of my children— when I didn't even know I was with twins myself. We were all separated from one another, each of us ending up in a separate corner of the galaxy for our own protection."

Ruwee was now standing, pacing back and forth as he tried to understand her words, as he tried to place his anger at those responsible for making his little daughter suffer — even though he had nobody tangible to blame.

"That doesn't make sense," he claimed, louder than anybody else in the room. "The children would be endangered wherever in the galaxy they were because of their Force sensitiveness, but at least they would be safe if they were kept with their mother!"

"Papa," Padmé called for him, wishing to tame him before he said something he would regret. "The twins couldn't be kept together; their presence in the Force together — would be too loud. The Emperor would come for them in a heartbeat."

"Then at least one of them should be kept with you!" he yelled, his hands on his hips. "Their mother! Instead of — being tossed to strangers!"

"Papa, everybody is a stranger to a baby," Padmé reminded. "The twins did have families, they weren't tossed to orphanages to fetch for themselves. They had — mothers."

"Their rightful mother," Ruwee said, bitter.

Padmé instinctively stretched her arm in front of Leia, stopping her from snapping as she knew she was bound to. "Papa, let's not invalidate their families, alright?"

Ruwee crossed his arms, turning his face to the three of them.

"I assume you were given to your father's family," he addressed Luke, "You bear his last name."

"That's right," Luke agreed with a bow. "I was given to my uncle and my aunt — my uncle was my father's stepbrother."

"So you were kept within your family."

"Well," he tilted his face, "I didn't share any blood ties with them. My uncle was my father's stepbrother. They fostered me."

"Fostered?!" Jobal emphasized, outraged. "They didn't even — adopt you?!"

Luke opened his mouth to say something, but Ruwee was already speaking over him.

"So you were given to your family," he concluded, despite Luke's objection. "What about her?! She was thrown to the wolves, to a family that wasn't her own, to people that had no emotional connections to her! She should have gone to us! Her real family!"

Leia tensed up, and Padmé could not stop her from reacting this time.

"The Organas were my family," she snapped, "Bail Organa — was Padmé's best friend in the Senate. He couldn't have honored her more than by taking his little girl after he was told she was dead."

Ruwee looked at his granddaughter angrily.

"We buried you, child," he accused, "We buried you, and your brother, alongside your mother. And yet Bail Organa had the audacity of coming to our own home back then to bring us the news that Padmé had died during a confront with the clones, while still carrying you? When in reality he was scheming to take her child home with them, instead of leaving you with us? I won't stand for that!"

"And what are you going to do?!" Leia, in her own fury, stood up as well. "My father is dead. All quarrels you might have had with him or anybody else in my family became pointless the moment Alderaan became dust."

Padmé had her head buried in both her hands. She couldn't believe how everybody's attention was diverting from the main point, and they were all coming out more scathed than they were at the beginning of the night.

Han, on the other hand, looked very well like he could punch someone for upsetting Leia, but for her own sake, he was behaving himself to an extent.

"Why don't you sit back down, Papa," Sola suggested. Padmé shook her head at how her sister was up the twins' neck barely minutes before and now she was trying to defend them from her father.

Ruwee clenched his fists, him and Leia staring bitterly at each other. Until Ruwee saw the hurt in her eyes and decided to be the better man, stepping away.

Leia dropped herself down the couch without elegance.

"Well, I believe matters are becoming rather intense," Jobal concluded; when she looked at Leia, she noticed the young girl was doing her best not to cry. "Why don't we take a break, dinner must be almost ready by then."

"I haven't — I haven't said anything!" Padmé protested, indignant. She just wanted to get it out of her chest already, so they could move on.

"And look how badly it's going already," Jobal said, still looking at her recently acquainted granddaughter. "A nice meal will do wonders to cool off our heads a little."

Not bothering to wait for other people to weigh in on a possible break, Leia hastily got up and left the room without a single word.

"Damn it," Padmé cursed, hands still pressed to her temples. And if things couldn't get any worse, she made them, as she turned to her father and spat, "Did you have to say all those things?"

"You don't get to blame me for being enraged at how the situation was handled all those years ago when we were the ones who suffered the most!" Ruwee howled.

"And why do you think you can blame her?!"

Ruwee tilted his head at her. "I'm not, Padmé. I'm blaming her father."

"That doesn't make it any better!" she raised her voice too, but forced herself to take a deep breath. "Look, if you're interested in any kind of relationship with your granddaughter," she pointed towards the door where Leia had left through, "You can't keep throwing Alderaan to her face — and I'm not speaking to Papa only."

Luke leaned on his knees. "She carries a whole lot of guilt for what happened. Speaking of Alderaan to her will make her hostile, and I know my sister — that's not the impression she wants to leave on you. She wants you to like her."

"We do like her, Luke," Jobal insisted. "We like the two of you all right."

Luke sighed, catching sign of Han trying to sneak out. "Don't."

Han gritted his teeth in annoyance. "Don't, what?!"

"Go after Leia," he stated the obvious. "She wants to be alone for a while."

"Oh, she wants to be alone but she's talking to you right now?!"

Luke chuckled tiredly. "She's not. She shut herself off completely to me — proving once again that she wants her space."

Grunting, Han crossed his arms.

Pooja looked at them funnily. "She shut herself off—are we missing something here?"

"Yeah. About twenty-three years on their life," Sola pointed out.

Luke giggled again. "Actually — my sister and I can talk to each other through our Force bond."

Ryoo placed her hand on her chin, interested. "How does that work?"

"Well," Luke scratched his head, "It's like we can sense, intuitively, what the other is thinking, feeling, really, and—"

"It's mind-reading," Han summarized with a gesture, "They'll creep you out."

Padmé huffed a hollow laugh, anticipating the faces of her family when Luke and Leia accidentally slipped from their good behavior and started doing it again in front of everybody.

"Well then," Jobal nodded with her head, rather fascinated with the concept. "I will check on dinner, and you can telepathically call your sister over to eat with us."

Jobal left the room, too, leaving Luke to crash onto his mother while she tenderly put her hand on his knee, all while Han strolled from side to side, waiting for Leia to come back.

A/N: i can confirm that none of the things I had set aside for this chapter are actually in this chapter

anyway, I had about the worst week ever so this is your cue to make me happy with your lovely comments