Ben was three months old when he laughed for the first time. He'd been giving his favourite people (and Wookiee) shy little smiles for a good six weeks when they tickled his toes, or kissed his cheeks, or sang his favourite song (not a lullaby but much to Leia's alarm a Corellian drinking song).
He still accompanied both his parents to work, although he had a clear preference, which he expressed whenever Han left the house without taking him. He would cry and fuss and huff for half the morning while Leia did her best not to be offended. Han said it was just the Falcon, and he wasn't really wrong. Ben loved the ship. He slept better on board than anywhere else, and he loved sitting in the cockpit or at the engineering station or in a maintenance pit with his father, cooing away and staring at the lights surrounding him.
Ben would happily laze in Chewie's arms all day long, staring up at his gentle blue eyes and humming softly. Chewie would nod and growl quietly as if they had some sort of mutual understanding.
That isn't to say that Ben wasn't well behaved when he went to work with his mother. He loved sitting on her lap as she typed away at her console, and cuddling with Mari at her desk, and cooing at senators and diplomats when they came to visit Leia. But at the same time, he quickly made a name for himself throwing toys across conference rooms, grabbing at datapads, and shouting into the microphone when Leia made public speeches with him. The tuft of black hair on his head, his oversized ears and the big brown eyes that matched his mother's exactly meant that everyone was so enamoured with him that his more questionable behaviours were always overlooked.
Predictably, it was the Rogues that made him laugh the very first time. They were the other reason he loved working with Daddy. If Ben was in the hangar, they spent their days entertaining him with X-Wings or age-inappropriate toys and tools, or just by carting him around with them wherever they went.
This particular day, Wedge was in the cockpit of Red Two with Ben on his lap, tinkering with the navigational system while Ben hummed and cooed and idly fiddled with a switch which did nothing but turn the headlights on and off. The switch beside it however, which Ben clumsily bumped while Wedge wasn't quite looking, activated the thrusters and sent the X-Wing off its platform and halfway across the hangar.
Wedge swore loudly and quickly shut the engines off, checking all over Ben for any injuries. Ben spent a single moment looking surprised before, like a miniature Han Solo head-to-toe, laughing and reaching for the switch again.
"No thank you, sir," Wedge said quickly, grabbing his hands and taking a few calming breaths as the other Rogues hurried over to them, followed closely by Han. "Kid's gonna be a crack pilot," he said, handing Ben to his father. "No doubt about that."
Ben was four months old the first time Han left them to go on a trip for the New Republic. Leia took the baby down to the docking platform to see Han off. Ben beamed when he saw the Falcon, and bounced in Leia's arms as Han left the last-minute touch-ups he was working on to say goodbye to them. He pulled Leia close and kissed the top of her head while Ben squirmed, vying for his attention. "I won't be long," he said gently before taking Ben into his own arms and holding him close."You be good, okay, kid?"
Ben clutched at his jacket, and started to cry when he passed him back to Leia. "Daddy will be back soon," she told the baby, kissing the top of his head as Han kissed her, climbed up the Falcon's ramp and took off.
Ben screamed for six hours, barely drawing breath. Leia was distraught that he might not stop crying until Han got home in three days.
Eventually, the baby exhausted himself and fell asleep in her arms, but it was months before she let Han leave the planet again.
Ben was five months old when Han started to worry about his education.
"Should we be reading to him?" he asked suddenly one evening after he'd put Ben to bed. They were lounging on the sofa, Leia finally relaxing after a month of speeches, meetings, negotiations and debates had eventually led to a signed amendment to the Galactic Concordat.
"I do read to him," she said, swivelling around on the sofa and putting her feet in his lap. "Please," she said, waving vaguely at them.
Han smirked and picked one foot up, beginning a gentle massage. "Sometimes I forget you're a princess, and sometimes-"
"You seem to sometimes forget where my feet are placed," she said primly.
Han grunted, looked down at where her free foot lay in his crotch, her toes wiggling threateningly, and swiftly changed the subject. "When do you read to him?"
Leia shrugged. "When I feel like it. I've got kids' story chips on the datapad, you can read them to him whenever you want."
Han sighed. "I dunno. I'd probably be too slow to make any difference to him."
Leia reached up to rub his shoulder. "It doesn't matter how fast you read it, Han. He's so small, it's really just about him listening to your voice now anyway. And you don't have to read to him, you could just tell him stories. He won't know the difference."
Han thought about that for a moment. "My Ma used to tell me stories. She couldn't read at all."
"Well there you go. And you know, if you did read stories to him, I bet your reading would get faster."
"It's too late for that."
"It is not too late and we both know it. When I met you, you couldn't even write your own name."
Han clenched his jaw. "No need to go over it again."
"Well there clearly is a need because you're still convinced that your lack of an early education makes you stupid. The Corellian government failed you, Han. It's as simple as that."
Han grunted. "I just…" he swallowed and switched to massaging her other foot. "I'm glad we can… raise Ben here."
"Me too," Leia whispered, pulling her feet away from him and settling herself in his lap instead. "But I also wish you could have grown up somewhere like this."
Han wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair. "Ma tried so hard," he mumbled. "She just… There's only so much you can do, you know?"
Leia nodded, taking his hand. 'She loved you and she kept you even when it was hard. That says a lot about her."
Han sighed. "She always said she just didn't want me to get put in a home 'cause she grew up in one and they were… they weren't good."
"I wish she could see you now," Leia whispered. "With your little boy."
He clenched his jaw. "Anyway," he said, clearing his throat. "You think he wouldn't mind me readin' to him?"
"I think he'd love it."
Ben was eight months old when he learned to walk. Han was horrified. The information he'd heard had told him his son wouldn't be on his feet until he was around a year old, maybe even older. Leia supposed it was the Jedi in the small boy that made him so physically able.
He'd only been crawling for a month or so, and that alone had made their lives fairly difficult. Han had become used to having Ben 'help' him work on the Falcon. He quite liked sitting Ben on the ground beside him and talking to him while he worked. But once Ben could move, this activity was more or less out of the question. Han tried, of course, but gave it up when Ben fell into a shallow maintenance alcove and came out covered in grease and with an angry lump on his forehead.
Leia, on the other hand, had enjoyed taking Ben with her to Senate meetings or trade negotiations. He'd sit quietly in her lap, playing with a toy or babbling softly to himself. Once he knew he could get around on his own, though, he would spend the length of any meeting wriggling and squirming and whining to get out of her arms.
In the end, Ben took his first steps and said his first word on the same day. Han and Leia were in the kitchen arguing, not about anything much. Han had left greasy handprints on the door of the conservator when he'd come home, Leia had woken him up before sunrise that morning when he'd only landed the night before from a week-long mission, Han had let Ben watch almost two hours of HoloNet programmes, Leia had spent too long at her offices, Han needed a haircut, Leia had washed his shirts wrong.
Ben pulled himself up onto his feet using the leg of the nearest chair, and bounced happily for a moment, giggling as his parents turned to look at him. He let go of the chair and took a wobbly step towards them. They grinned and knelt on the ground in front of him. "Are you going to walk to us, baby?" Leia asked, holding her arms out.
"Come on, kid. You can do it," Han said, beckoning Ben towards him.
Ben grinned at them both before taking a few rushed steps towards Leia, stumbling into her arms. Leia beamed and kissed his cheeks. "Good boy! You walked to Mama!" Ben giggled some more, reaching for her face.
Han huffed, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. "Nice to know who your favourite is, kid," he grumbled.
Ben reached one hand out to Han and smiled brightly. "Dada," he said softly.
Han grinned and ruffled Ben's hair. "Yeah, I forgive you."
Ben was eleven months old when his parents started thinking - in the case of one of them - and panicking - in the case of the other - about his birthday.
Leia hesitantly stepped through the Falcon's corridors, a holodisc clutched in her hands.
"You lookin' for somethin'?" Han asked when she reached the main hold. He was in a maintenance pit in the floor so she could only see his head.
Leia laughed. "Just you, hotshot. I wanted to ask you something. It seems silly now though, I think I'll just…"
"No no no," Han smirked, climbing out of the pit and taking her hands in his own. "What's this?"
She sighed. "It's… When I was a girl, my parents used to take a holo of me every year on my birthday, asking me these questions like, 'Who's your best friend' and 'What do you want to be when you grow up'. I wondered if I could… Do the same thing with Ben? But I know… the birthday thing is… weird for you," she shrugged. "So it's okay if you don't want it."
Han pulled her close for a moment. "It's not weird for me, I just… don't know how to do kids' birthdays. I dunno what's supposed to happen or anything. Everyone has all these traditions they did when they were kids and I don't even have a real birth date. It just makes me feel kinda stupid. That's all."
Leia frowned. "You do have a real birthday, Han."
"Yeah, sure. One Carlist Rieekan helped me make up when I enlisted with the Alliance. It's not a big deal, I just don't know what I'm doing. But I want him to… have things he remembers we did. You wanna do this holo thing then let's do it. But I hope you know he's just gonna say he wants to be a pilot every year," he smirked.
"You're insufferable," Leia mumbled fondly, pressing her face to his chest.
He held her for a while, rubbing her back and letting her rest in his arms. "Hey, uh… Where's Ben?"
Leia laughed. "He's with Luke."
Han kissed the top of her head. "Can we watch it?"
She pulled away slightly to look up at him. "Watch what?"
"Your holos," he said, reaching for the disc in her hand.
"Oh. I'm sure they're embarrassing."
"Well sure, why d'you think I want to see them?"
They sat at the bench behind the Dejarik table, the disc stuck in the side of the table so it would project onto the surface. Han wrapped one arm around Leia's shoulders and pulled her close as he booted it up. "Dad had this copy in his things on Yavin IV. Carlist saved it for me," she whispered.
A tiny, shimmering-blue baby girl appeared on the table, wispy dark hair on her head, wearing some sort of ceremonial gown which seemed to be annoying her more than anything else. They heard Bail's voice. "It's little Leia's first birthday today. Honey, can you look at me? Look at Daddy," he cooed. "If you look at me for the holo, I'll let you take your silly dress off and put on something more comfy, how about that?" Baby Leia perked up at that, and gave him a bright, holo-ready smile, swinging her legs cheerfully.
Leia curled up on the bench, pressing herself into Han's side. He held her close, gently stroking circles on her shoulder. Before long, she was crying, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as she watched the holo, her parents making frequent appearances through the years.
On Leia's fifth birthday, Bail asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. She screwed her face up in thought for a few moments before she decided. "I'm going to be the boss so everyone listens to me and does the right thing," she explained confidently. Han snorted and Leia elbowed him in the ribs, wiping her tears while she laughed as well.
On her seventh birthday, Breha asked her if she wanted to get married someday. Leia wrinkled her nose. "Um, no. Boys are stupid and they don't listen. I don't want to be stuck with one forever."
Han smirked at this and gave her a small nudge. "Changed your tune, huh, Highness?"
"Not really," Leia said dryly. "You are stupid and you don't listen."
Han kissed her cheek. "I listen sometimes," he said softly. "You were a pretty cute kid. And your Mom and Dad… They seem great."
Leia nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. "I wish we had holos of you too," she said softly, smoothing a hand over his chest as she looked up at him.
Han rubbed his chin distractedly. "Wouldn't be anything much to see anyway."
"I bet you were a cute kid," she shrugged. "A precious little Corellian boy dreaming of escaping to the stars."
Han cleared his throat. "Well anyway, I can take charge of Ben's birthday holos if you want."
Leia kissed his jaw and nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'd like that."
Han spent the lead-up to Ben's first birthday with his head buried in a datapad, obsessively researching birthday traditions, but flicking over to racing scores anytime Leia came close. She caught him one evening and sighed, pulling him close. "You don't need to panic," she eventually said.
"'M not panicking" Han mumbled.
"You've been staring at that screen for days, Han."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well. You know I'm not the best reader. It takes me a while."
That wasn't really a lie. Most days, he had Leia read his reports to him out loud to save time. She thought it was a crying shame that somebody who could learn a new language in two days could barely read, and she was in the middle of drafting a new Galactic Education Bill centralising access to education for all children, regardless of their ability to pay for it.
"Ben is turning one," she said.
Han blinked at her. "I know. That's why I'm… I wanna do it right for him."
"He won't even remember his first birthday, Han,"
"Um," Han said. "Well there'll be holos."
"He'll just want to play with some new toys, see his family, and eat some cake. And that's all he'll want to see in a holo when he's older."
Han nodded and let her hold him, trying to relax a little. "You still want me to do the cake?" He asked.
"Well, I know you don't want me to do the cake. And I do want a homemade one," she said.
"'S that what your parents did?"
"Goodness, no. They used to have huge ridiculous fancy cakes made at some overpriced Alderaanian bakery. Which was nice and all. But it wasn't very personal. I always liked when I went to my friends' birthday parties and their parents had made their cake," she shrugged.
Han smiled. "So this is just a Ben tradition?"
"It's an us tradition," she said. "That okay?"
"Yeah. That sounds good."
"MadaDada!" Ben shrieked from his cot when his parents slid open the door to the nursery. He pulled himself up and bounced happily, clinging to the rail.
"Good morning, my big boy," Leia cooed, pulling him into her arms and trying to flatten his unruly hair out a little while Han came over to kiss his nose.
"Happy birthday, big guy."
"Ah," Ben said happily, cuddling up to Leia for a moment before starting to squirm.
Once they had him changed and dressed they sat him up in his highchair to open some presents while Han cooked Corellian flatcakes for breakfast. It took the small boy a few minutes to understand the concept behind the entire enterprise, but he quickly caught on and set to pulling the decorative paper off of each gift, discarding whatever the gift was into a pile beside him, and playing with the paper, babbling loudly.
"That normal?" Han asked, an eyebrow raised as he brought their breakfast over to the table.
Leia laughed. "I think so," she said, taking a bite of food and pulling some of the toys from the highchair tray, removing them from their boxes so Ben could see what they were. "Look, honey. This is an X-Wing like Uncle Luke's," she said, holding the toy up and pressing a button on the side which made it light up and make sounds.
"Well that isn't going to be annoying at all," Han grumbled around his food as Ben grabbed the toy and waved it around happily.
Ben started to eat as well, clutching the X-Wing in one hand and eating the bite-sized pieces of flatcake Leia had cut up for him with the other. "Ahdadadadada," he babbled around his food, squealing and waving his arms happily when Chewie entered the room, wishing him a happy birthday and ruffling his hair. Ben gave him a garbled growl back and Han chuckled.
"That was a good try, kid. Hey, your Uncle Luke's coming over a bit later. And Uncle Lando too. And some of Mama's work friends," he told him.
"Mama," Ben agreed, patting Leia with a sticky hand.
Leia kissed his tiny hand and then wiped him down once he'd finished eating. Chewie, meanwhile, had piled eleven flatcakes onto a plate and was digging in, his growling a little muffled as he asked Han a question.
Han shrugged. "Whenever you're ready, pal. But I did tell you, you didn't need to-" He stopped talking when Chewie cuffed him over the head with a giant paw before handing Ben a wrapped present.
Ben grinned and kicked his feet wildly, grabbing at the gift and starting to pull the paper away. Inside was a hand carved wooden model of the Falcon which fit perfectly in Ben's hands. He beamed and looked at Han. "Dada!" he said, waving the model at him happily before shoving one end of it into his mouth and gnawing on it.
They propped him up on the sofa, his Falcon clutched in his hand as Han set up the holo-recorder. "Okay, kid," he said, waving at Ben from behind it. "It's your birthday, huh? What have you got there, can you show me?"
Ben looked down at the toy in his hand and held it up. "Ah… Dada," he said, waving it a little.
"Daddy's ship, huh? And uh… what do you wanna be when you grow up, Ben?"
Ben frowned slightly, looking very serious, but clearly not grasping the question. "Dada," he said decisively.
"Told ya," Han said smugly, giving Leia a smirk. "Pilot. He wants to be a pilot."
"Who's your favourite, Ben?" Leia asked.
Ben thought very carefully about that before pointing directly at Chewie and saying, clear as a bell, "Dada."
Although small, Ben's party, like so many other things, overwhelmed him and he spent the entire afternoon latched onto Han, holding his collar so tightly Han was concerned he might rip it clean off. In his other hand, he held his little wooden Falcon.
The grown-ups sat scattered around the apartment, snacking and chatting, regaling each other with war stories and peacetime complaints. Ben fiddled with his toy, resting back against Han's chest, the low rumble of his voice soothing his anxiety.
At one point, Luke tugged Leia into the kitchen with a frown. "What's wrong with Ben?"
Leia rolled her eyes and sighed at him. "I don't know, Luke. He only has fifteen words. I think it's just too many people all at once. He's okay with Han."
Luke chewed his lip anxiously. "Can't you feel that he's distressed?"
"You need to spend some more time with him, Luke. This is normal. He's a toddler, things distress him. Yesterday I had to shut myself off from him because he was throwing a fit about Bith beans and I was trying to work.
"I felt that," Luke said seriously.
"He's just very sensitive, which is not a surprise to anybody who knows Han as well as we do. Now will you get the cake out of the conservator and carry it out there for me? Thanks," she said, patting his arm condescendingly on her way back to the festivities.
"Ooooh," Ben said cheerfully as Luke carefully carried the cake out and set it on the table. "Nummy?" he asked, looking up at Han.
"I hope so, kid," Han said sheepishly, standing up and settling him on his hip. "Can you see the shape?"
"A-a-a cat!" Ben yelled, kicking his feet and pointing at the cake.
Leia laughed and kissed his cheek. "That's right, it's a Loth Cat. Daddy stayed up half the night making sure it looked just right," she said, nudging Han fondly.
"Here," Han said gruffly, starting to cut the cake up and handing Ben a piece laden with frosting.
Ben grabbed it eagerly and shoved some in his mouth, munching slowly and beaming as he tangled a sticky, frosting-covered hand in the back of Han's hair. "Dada," he said thickly, crumbs flying out of his mouth.
"I love you, bud," Han whispered, kissing his cheek.
Ben lay against Leia's chest, snoring softly, his mouth tinted orange from the cake he'd spent all afternoon snacking on. Leia relaxed back on the sofa and sighed, running a gentle hand up and down his back before suddenly bursting into tears.
Han looked up from his datapad in alarm and grabbed her hand. "Sweetheart," he said softly, careful not to disturb the baby. "What's wrong?"
"He's so big," she sobbed, pressing a kiss to the top of Ben's head.
The baby squirmed and fisted a hand in her braid, his eyes slowly opening.
"He's still a baby, honey."
Leia sighed. "It's already gone so fast. Before we know it he'll be grown up and gone."
Han kissed her cheek. "He won't be gone. We'll still see him even when he's big."
"No we won't," she said stubbornly. "He'll be off across the galaxy just like we were."
He frowned slightly. "Sweetheart… We're both orphans," he said, a little bewildered.
Leia pressed her face into his shoulder. It did happen sometimes. Less often now, but they were still only two years out of the war, and she spent every day holding things together so tightly that sometimes the mere sight of Han caused a complete disintegration. His gentle eyes, already understanding her without her having to open her mouth. His arms, reaching for her as if he'd been waiting all day just to hold her. His heartbeat, strong against her skin as she pressed herself to his chest, clutching at him, desperate to confirm that he was here.
And he was. And he held her. And eventually she fell asleep in his arms, the sheer physical and emotional tolls of the day finally catching up with her.
And Han carefully moved her, settled her on the sofa and scooped Ben up into his own arms, careful not to wake him. He changed him and cleaned his face a little, Ben slowly, lazily waking up and babbling groggily at him before going back to sleep as Han tucked him into his cot.
Leia barely moved as Han carefully lifted her into his arms, carrying to their room. He tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead and whispered, "Sleep, my love," in Corellian. As he climbed into bed beside her, he pulled her close to him, needing the comfort of her closeness just as she needed his. Their little boy was growing fast. The galaxy was changing around them. Everything seemed uncertain, transitory. Except for this. This, the feeling of her asleep in his arms seemed so permanent, solid and perfect that Han relaxed, drifting off to sleep himself.