Millions of children were born in the year following the Battle of Endor as the grip of the Empire finally started to slip. Their generation brought about a population boom unlike any the galaxy had seen before. They were born on Core Worlds and on isolated planets in the Outer Rim. They were born in slums, in palaces, in villas, on homesteads, in tiny villages, in crowded cities, and on freighters and transports across space. They were born to people who hadn't wanted to bring a child into a galaxy teeming with war and tyranny, to conscripted Imperial soldiers who'd found themselves suddenly free, to politicians, to merchants, to emancipated slaves who'd escaped their captors in the chaos of the war ending, to soldiers of the Rebellion, to spice miners, and to droid mechanics.

One was born to a smuggler and a princess.

Leia sat quietly in her seat behind the pilot's, watching Han as he looked through his charts, preparing for a jump to hyperspace. She held one hand to her stomach where, for almost six weeks, a tiny life had been growing. She'd felt the child's presence as soon as it existed, but the chaos of building a New Republic, commanding over battles that still raged across the galaxy, and trying to find an apartment Han Solo would be happy to live in semi-permanently had meant that they'd barely had ten minutes alone to discuss what they were going to have for dinner, nevermind this.

"So when we get there, I'm just meant to sit quiet and look pretty?" Han said, swivelling his seat around to smirk at her, but the smile vanished from his face when he saw her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She gave him a small smile and shook her head. "Nothing's wrong, I… I need to tell you something."

Han frowned. "Okay," he said slowly, reaching for her hands.

"I'm going to have a child," she said slowly, watching him carefully.

Han blinked at her for a few moments. "Is it mine?" He said stupidly.

"Excuse me?" Despite all his arrogance, he still seemed completely unable to fathom that she was all his. She actually found it quite insulting, but they both had their insecurities. "Of course it's yours."

"Oh," he said again, staring at her and then looking at her stomach. "Did you have a test?"

Leia shook her head. "I can feel him."

The right corner of Han's mouth quirked up. "A boy? How do you know?"

"I told you. I can feel him," she said, reaching over to touch Han's cheek. "He feels like you."

Han was quiet for a while, looking down at his hands. "I don't…" he began, paused, then started again. "I never really had someone… A father," he managed. "I won't know what to do but... I'll be here."

"You'll figure it out. You always do," she said with a smile. "I don't know how to be a mother either, but we'll work it out together."

"You had a mother," Han said quickly. "I… My father…" he paused for a moment, weighing up how much he wanted to tell her. "He sent me away. What if I… I dunno… What if I do the same thing?"

Leia kissed his forehead while she processed this new information and tried to untangle what he really meant. Over the four years they'd known each other, he'd let slip only a handful of tiny glimpses of his life before they'd met. This was the first time he'd ever mentioned his family. "You won't. Because I can see how much that still hurts you," she said, resting her hand on his chest. "You'd never do it to your own son."

Han clenched his jaw and nodded, turning his chair back around and pretending to focus on the charts again. Leia stood and kissed the top of his head, leaving him alone in the cockpit, knowing he'd need time. She certainly had when she'd first realised she was pregnant. She passed Chewie in the passage and smiled tightly. "Keep an eye on him for me."

Han didn't speak again until they landed in Hanna City, and all he said was, "We're here." He stayed on the Falcon with Chewie, working on repairs while Leia set about unpacking their meagre belongings in their new apartment.

Eventually, as Leia stood in their bedroom working on unpacking his clothes, she heard his footsteps in the hall. When he reached the room, he leaned heavily against the doorframe, trying to look casual. "It's okay to be nervous," Leia said without looking up at him, focusing on folding one of his shirts. "Or afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Han snapped, folding his arms.

"I didn't say you were," she snapped back. "I just mean it would be okay. I'm sure you never expected to… settle down."

Han shrugged. "I've thought about it before."

Leia sat on the bed and patted the space next to her. Han frowned slightly and sat beside her, his hands in his lap. "With who?" she asked.

Han looked very puzzled for a few moments. "With… With you."

"Oh," she said, laughing lightly. "I thought you meant… before, before."

Han smiled and shook his head. "It's just you, Princess," he said softly, looking down at his hands. Eventually he asked, "Will he be… Like you and Luke?"

Leia reached for his hands and gave them a squeeze. "Maybe," she said. "Probably. Luke could help him though, train him."

Han frowned and shook his head. "I dunno about that."

Leia sighed. "We don't need to worry about that now. Here, see if you can feel him," she said, laying back on the bed and pulling him to lie beside her. She placed his hands on her belly while he looked bemused.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going to be able to feel anything," he said, in case she might have forgotten.

"You don't need the Force," Leia said, rolling her eyes. "Just close your eyes."

He did, trying to concentrate on whatever it was she wanted him to concentrate on. He relaxed, his hand rising and falling with her breath, and he thought of their son, of what he'd be like, of the things they'd do together, of what he'd be able to teach him.

Eventually, Leia spoke up. "Do you feel him?"

Han opened his eyes and shrugged. "I dunno. I love him," he said, watching where his hand lay.

Leia smiled. "That's what I meant."

"We will need to manage the media coverage carefully," Mon Mothma said gently, leaning back in her chair and watching Leia, who sat nervously across the desk from her. "We will be told you are not fit to lead, that you are distracted, that the decisions you make will be emotionally driven. This complicates things significantly. I don't suppose you've considered… discontinuing… and trying again later?"

Leia frowned deeply. "Excuse me?"

Mothma sighed. "I only mean, this hasn't come at a convenient time. It would be better for you to wait until after the Republic is better established. Until you're married."

Leia stood up, one arm slung protectively across her abdomen. "You're talking about my child."

"Princess, we have fought so hard for so long. We've all lost so much. In many ways, you are our figurehead, more than I am. And if people don't trust you, if people think that you're making rash, emotional decisions. We could lose everything."

"This is exactly what we were fighting for," Leia said fiercely. "A safe galaxy for our children. What better symbol for that than the Last Prince of Alderaan? Growing up with the Republic we're building here."

"This isn't just about you either, Leia. People are already… opposed to your choice of suitor, and if he's to now be…"

"No," Leia snapped. "I am not having this conversation with you again. Han is not my suitor. I am not a piece of property for you to sell to the highest bidder. I decide who I'm going to love. Nobody else," she said, leaving the room in a rage, wishing she could slam the door shut like she could on the Falcon where barely any of the door auto-hydraulics worked.

She was storming down the corridor, unsure of where she was even going, when she collided with somebody large and solid leaving Carlist Rieekan's office.

"Will you watch where you're going?!" She snapped, taking a step backwards so she could look up at their face.

Han grinned his lopsided grin and reached for her. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, pulling her to him and frowning as she sagged in his arms, grabbing a handful of his vest. "What's wrong?"

Leia shook her head. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Rieekan just wanted to make sure I was lookin' after you. He wants to see you himself. Congratulate you and all," he said, rubbing her back. "Bad meeting?"

She nodded, pressing her face further into his chest. "Can we go home?"

Han frowned. "Uh… Sure," he said uneasily. "You don't have any… more meetings or somethin' later?"

Leia chuckled. "Is that what you think I do all day?"

Han shrugged. "Don't you?"

"No, hotshot. I don't."

Han smirked and lifted her chin up a little so he could kiss her. "Let's get you home."

Leia slipped her hand into his and held it tightly as he took her out to where he'd docked his speeder. She really hated the way he drove. But he got where he was going fast. And she wanted nothing more than to be in their own home, away from the rest of the galaxy for a little while.

"So," Han said as he pulled into the afternoon traffic. "You gonna tell me what's got you so worked up?"

Leia glared at him, her hands clasped tightly around handfuls of her dress. "I am not worked up." Han threw his hands up in surrender and she whacked him. "Drive."

"You are a bit worked up," he said eventually. He never knew when to stop. Occasionally she was thankful for it. Most of the time it was infuriating.

"If you must know, Mon Mothma thinks that I should have an abortion," she snapped.

Han nearly ran up the back of the speeder in front of them. "What?"

"She thinks it would be politically advantageous for me not to be pregnant right now."

Han went quiet for a few moments, seemingly concentrating on the traffic. "Is it because of me?" He eventually asked.

Leia sighed and reached for his hand. "She had a few reasons."

Han pulled his hand away. "Yeah, well I bet if you were married to a prince or a politician she'd have a few less reasons."

"What does it matter? I don't want to be married to a prince. They're all boring and ugly."

Han gave her a small smile. "Well I'm certainly neither of those things," he said, although she could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"People will say that I'm not fit to lead, that I'm making emotional decisions because of my condition."

Han grunted. "Anyone who says that has never met you."

"Mon wasn't saying it was true. She was just saying that's what people will say. And the media and our opposition will have a lot to say. But I don't care. I actually think a baby will look good for us. If I'm bringing a child into this new galaxy, I must have high hopes for what we're going to achieve here."

"But… He's not a political weapon, Leia. He's a baby," Han said, his voice softer than usual.

Leia reached for his hand again. "I know that. I know. But he will get turned into one, especially at the beginning."

Han frowned and nodded, but kept his mouth shut as he docked the speeder by their apartment. He held Leia's hand as they went inside, sitting her on the sofa and rudely dismissing their culinary droid BX-778 from the kitchen so he could fuss around making a pot of Kashyyykian tea himself.

"I want him to be a little kid," Han said, bringing out two cups of tea and handing one to Leia as he sat beside her.

Leia moved closer to him, curling into his side. "He will be. He'll be our little boy. Look at me," she said, nudging him until he met her gaze. "I don't care what they think. I have everything I want right here. Okay?"

Han clenched his jaw before nodding and pulling her close. "I know he won't have a normal childhood. I just don't want him to grow up too fast."

Leia smiled and kissed his cheek. "Because you had to?"

He shrugged. "We both did."

Leia nodded and sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "We'll protect him as much as we can."

"As much as we can," Han agreed.

The pregnancy was harrowing. Their baby was as turbulent as their relationship. He kept Leia up most nights kicking and rolling around. One such night, she was sitting up in bed, trying to make her way through some new reports that had been sent through from Republic outposts in the Outer Rim. Every now and then, she had to give Han a shove in the back when he started to snore.

As she read, her baby kicked and kicked until finally he went still. Leia frowned and touched a hand to her belly. The baby kicked some more, and she was filled with a vision of a small, bright light trying to force its way through a deep darkness. When she came back to herself, Leia started to climb out of bed to see if she could get in touch with Luke. Han woke with a start and reached a hand after her.

"What's wrong?"

She moved away from him, needing Luke's advice, not Han's comfort. "I need to talk to Luke. I'll be back," she said, leaving the room.

Han sat up and watched her go. He waited a few minutes before making his way out to the living room. Leia had Luke on a holo and was speaking quietly. "It was the baby. The darkness was… passing over him and I didn't see him get out."

"Don't worry," Luke said gently, as Han hovered in the doorway, out of sight. "All Jedi have to fight the darkness. It's inside all of us. We have to find balance. He will too. We'll help him."

Han went back to bed. There was nothing he could do to help her. This was Luke's area. He pulled the blankets up and tried to sleep, but found himself waiting for Leia to return.

Eventually, her light footsteps sounded in the hallway and Han opened his eyes again.

"You didn't need to stay up," she said with a fond smile.

"I didn't really mean to," he grumbled, rolling over to face her as she climbed in beside him. "Can I do anything?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"Everything's fine," she said, pulling the blankets up over herself. "I just got worried about him."

"The baby?"

She nodded.

"Why?" Han asked, reaching out to gently touch the place where his son grew.

"I just had a bad dream," she said dismissively. "He's fine."

Han pulled her a little closer, wishing he could protect them both better than this.

Leia had the same vision almost every night until their son was born. One night when she woke up from the dream, she opened her eyes to find Han already awake and watching her. "Hey," he said softly, pulling her close.

Leia pressed herself as close to him as she could get and held onto him.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, Leia working on calming her breathing, a hand pressed to her small bump.

"You okay?" Han eventually asked, pushing her hair back from her face.

Leia nodded, but didn't speak.

"And is he okay?" Han asked, covering her hand with his own.

Leia nodded. "He's okay. Can I ask you something?" she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Han shrugged, fighting off a yawn. "Sure."

Leia thought about how she'd word this for a moment. It had been bothering her for months now. She decided to be direct. "When I told you I was having this baby, you said that your father sent you away. Where… where did he send you?" She asked.

Han sighed unhappily and tried to pull away from her. "I don't wanna talk about this."

"Why not?" She asked, sitting up.

Han sat up too and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why should I? It doesn't matter now. He's dead, probably."

"It matters to me," she said, reaching for his hand and frowning when he pulled out of her reach. "I want to know you. And not just the good parts. I want to know what's hurt you. Where you came from."

Han swallowed and clenched his jaw before turning to look at her. "After he lost his job he tried to make his money back gambling. He just ended up with a lot of debt," he said. "He was never gonna be able to pay it back and they were gonna kill him. So he sold me to one of 'em. I was 'sposed to work until I'd earned back his debt."

"When you were a child?"

He nodded. "I was seven. But I got out when I was eleven. Probably still be there now otherwise."

Leia looked so horrified he wished he hadn't said anything. "I'm sorry," she said eventually.

Han shrugged. "You didn't do anything."

"I'm sorry for pushing you. I didn't think… I didn't know."

"That's why you asked," he shrugged again. "Just forget about it, huh?"

Han had never consumed much mainstream media. He rarely had access to the HoloNet while he was travelling and, outside of checking racing line-ups, had no interest in anything outside his own immediate realm of concern. When their relationship had first become public knowledge, he'd been blissfully unaware of incessantly being a topic for discussion on every morning program in the Core systems, and didn't have a clue he'd been dubbed 'Best-Looking Off-Worlder in Hanna City' until Leia told him. She thought he'd preen and boast but instead he just blushed and disappeared into a maintenance pit on the Falcon for the rest of the afternoon. So Leia was surprised one morning by him grunting over his caf, "Do you know they're calling him 'The Scrumrat Prince'?"

Leia blinked at him. "Who?"

"The baby," he said, pointing to her stomach.

She put down the datapad she'd been reading from. "I thought you didn't watch the news."

"I don't. Lando told me. He thinks it's cute."

Leia sighed. "He was bound to get a tabloid nickname, Han."

"Yeah well, I much preferred 'The Last Prince of Alderaan.' That was cute."

"What is a scrumrat anyway?"

Han huffed and downed the last of his caf, dumping his mug into the washer. "I guess you've never been called one before," he said, pulling his jacket on.

"Han-"

"'M working on the Falcon. I'll be late," he said, storming from the apartment.

Leia sagged in her seat and held her head in her hands for a moment. The last few weeks had been relentless. For both of them. Imperial remnant groups scattered across the galaxy had caused six uprisings against the New Republic - three of which had seen either Han or Luke or both of them sent to manage the aftermath.

Han had been sent to command a rescue mission on Malastare where a diplomatic envoy had been abducted by Imperial sympathisers - the entire operation had gone horribly wrong and Han was one of the few soldiers who made it out alive.

Leia had made a speech to the Senate the previous week about her plans to eradicate child slavery throughout the galaxy, starting with Corellia and Kessel - this had led to three systems (all of which profited greatly from the ancient systems of slavery they were maintaining) refusing to sign the latest amendment of the Concordance, and the media labelling Leia as unstable and emotional, and speculating wildly about Han's childhood on Corellia and what links this might have to Leia's announcement.

The Falcon's hyperdrive had blown on the way back from a recon mission and needed seventeen parts replaced - Leia had gently suggested that perhaps they should look into investing in a new transport given the cost of the repairs. Han hadn't spoken to her for three days.

Not to mention the fact that she was due in just under two months. She was still being sick at least three times a day, and snapped at Han most times he said anything at all.

Leia finished the tea she was drinking, some Kashyyykian blend that had been the only thing that would settle her churning stomach, and pulled her coat on, sending a quick message to Mon Mothma that she was taking a sick day. Mothma would be glad. She'd been trying to have her take an early maternity leave since she was about twelve weeks pregnant.

She made her way, a little hesitantly, out to the dock where the Falcon sat. She could hear occasional clanging and Corellian curse words as she climbed up the ramp, and found Han in the engineering bay arguing with a fuel line. "Honey?" She said softly, reaching out for his arm.

Han turned to face her. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm sorry for… leaving like that. You don't need that right now," he said softly, staring at the ground.

Leia sighed fondly and reached up, tilting his chin up a little, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry. I haven't been here for you, Han."

He frowned and shook his head. "I don't need-"

"Yes, you do," she cut him off. "Which is normal and fine and exactly what I signed up for here."

"But you're… busy," he shrugged. "It's fine. I'm fine," he said, gently pulling away from her and going back to his work. "Scrumrat's just a word for a street kid. A kid who works for a cartel or belongs to a slaver or somethin'."

Leia nodded. "Like you did."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Like I did."

"Have you thought about a name?" Han asked suddenly, interrupting her speech writing.

"What?" She asked, rubbing her eyes as she looked up at him. They were lounging by the Falcon's Dejarik table. Well, he was lounging. She was sitting up straight with her datapad leaning on the game table, trying to concentrate through her raging headache and frustratingly persistent nausea, still plaguing her when she was due to deliver their baby in a month. She didn't need him making things difficult by speaking.

"For the baby," Han said, gesturing to her stomach in case she'd forgotten it was there. "He'll need a name."

Leia waved a dismissive hand at him. "I haven't thought about it."

Han bristled and crossed his arms. "Sorry," he grumbled. "I just… I wanted to talk about his last name."

Leia frowned at that and looked up at him again. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think he should get yours," Han said, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with them.

"Why? Is that a… some kind of a tradition on Corellia?" She was almost positive it wasn't, but she couldn't come up with any other reason why he'd want this.

Han shook his head. "No. I just think it'd be… nice. I mean, you're doing all the work here, right?"

She kept frowning at him. "What is it really?"

He clenched his jaw and tried to avoid her gaze. "Mine isn't… It's made up," he said quickly.

"You… made it up?"

"No, I didn't." He sighed, sitting back against the bench and looking at the ceiling to avoid her gaze. "When I signed up for the Academy they had to put a last name on the form and I didn't have one. The guy asked who my people were and I said I didn't have any of those either, that I was on my own. So he put 'Solo'. And it just… felt right," he shrugged. "But I don't think our son should have it. He should have a real name."

Leia pulled him into a hug. "It is a real name. It's your name," she said quietly. "And I want him to have it."

"Where's Leia?" Luke asked, looking around the apartment as if she might suddenly materialise.

"She's at work. Will you sit down?"

Luke frowned at him. "Han, I have told you so many times. If you two are having a problem, you need to talk to her."

Han rolled his eyes. "We're not having a problem. I have to ask you about something. Do you want caf?"

"Sure," Luke shrugged, watching him carefully. The anxiety was rolling off of Han in waves as he pottered about the kitchen making their drinks. "So is everything okay?"

Han nodded. "Yeah. I just…" he sighed and brought two mugs over, handing one to Luke and leaning on the counter. "I wanted to ask you about your Uncle."

Luke froze with the mug halfway to his mouth and stared at Han for a moment. "My Uncle?"

"Yeah. He… You grew up with him, right?"

"Yeah…" Luke said slowly. "He was just a moisture farmer, Han."

"I know, but… He raised you. I wanted to ask… I dunno…" He shrugged. "What he was like, what he did with you. I don't… I've got nobody else to ask, Luke, and I never… I just don't wanna be like my father," he eventually managed to get out.

"Oh," Luke said softly, everything suddenly falling into place. "You think you're not gonna know how to be a Dad."

Han clenched his jaw, aggressively sipping at his drink. "I… Well how would I?"

Luke shrugged. "I think it's the kind of thing you just figure out when it happens." Han seemed completely unsatisfied with that so he pressed on. "It must have been hard for my Uncle. I don't think he knew my father that well, and he never expected to get landed with me. But they couldn't have their own kids, I know they tried." He shrugged. "As much as I called them 'Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru', they were my Mom and Dad."

"So…" Han began. "What did he… How did he… What did he do?"

"Uh…" Luke wracked his brain for anything that might be helpful. "When I was little he used to let me come around the farm with him to help. I don't think I was much help at all. But I liked just sitting with him and talking to him. He always listened even if he didn't say much. He taught me how to fix things and how to tie my shoes. I dunno," he shrugged. "I just always knew he was there if I wanted to talk to someone. I knew he cared about me. I think that's all that really mattered."

Han nodded slowly.

"Why don't you ask Chewie? He is a father, Han."

Han waved a dismissive hand. "I already did. He was no help at all. He said I'd just figure it out. Everyone keeps saying I'll just figure it out. But everyone telling me that had their own father. I've got nothing to go on."

Luke sighed. "All he'll need is for you to love him, Han."

Han frowned, fiddling with his mug. "But I don't think that just happens. My father…" he trailed off.

"You're not your father, Han. You're your own person, and you're constantly loving people you don't even want to. I don't think you'll have any trouble with your own kid."

He was born screaming. After almost two days of working to bring him planet-side, Leia could barely move her arms to hold him as they placed him on her chest. Han, sitting behind her and holding her to his chest, helped her move to cradle their son properly. The baby had a shock of black hair on his head and he flailed his tiny fists around as he cried. Han kissed Leia's cheek as she stared at their baby's small face. "Look at him," she said softly, twisting slightly so she could kiss Han back.

"I need to weigh him," the medic droid said loudly, reaching over and taking the baby from them. His screams seemed to escalate and he flailed some more. "He is large and strong," the droid said as it weighed him. "Four point four five kilograms," it said, measuring his length as well before wrapping him tightly in a blanket and giving him back to them. "And fifty-six centimetres. A very large baby."

He certainly didn't look very large to Han as Leia cradled him to her chest. In fact, he looked so small and fragile that Han quickly decided he'd wait at least a few days before he held him.

"He looks like you," Leia said softly, smoothing the tiny boy's hair back from his forehead.

Han smiled, holding her a little closer. "I guess he does."

Once the baby had eaten a little and fallen asleep, and the adrenaline of meeting him had worn off, Leia finally fell asleep herself. Han carefully disentangled himself from behind her and lay her down properly in the bed. He had every intention of leaving the baby in her arms until he woke and started to fuss.

"No no no. Shhh," Han hissed. "Your Mom's asleep."

The baby continued to fuss, starting to escalate into small cries.

As Leia began to stir, Han grabbed the baby and cradled him close to his chest. "Don't cry. You'll wake her up. She needs to rest, you gave her a lot of trouble gettin' here you know?" he said softly, patting the baby's back. He settled quickly, clumsily fisting a hand in Han's shirt, his eyes still scrunched closed. "And I'm pretty sure you're meant to keep those little arms in here," he said, carefully stuffing the baby's arms back into the blanket. "Now," he said, keeping his voice soft as he sat in a chair beside the bed. "What are we gonna call you, huh?"

"Ben," a voice said softly from the bed. Han looked up, embarrassed she'd been watching him talk to an infant as if he could understand him.

"Ben?" Han pulled a face.

"Like Ben Kenobi. He brought us together didn't he?" Leia said, watching the baby.

"I guess he did. Ben," he said, testing it out, and the tiny boy opened his eyes. Han beamed. "Well would'ya look at that? You've got your Mom's eyes."