The yellow clay structure nearest to the river bank had been empty for years, Rewa had once said. The last family to occupy it had moved to the Outer Rim some years ago once all their children had grown. Five children, Rewa had clarified with a smirk as Han and Leia's faces had split with shock. The parents had added to the home so that it was larger than most others in Casita just slightly. It had a second room which Rewa explained had been for the children. There was a living room space which was also the dining space, complete with a counter and fireplace for cooking. Overall, the cob shelter wasn't what Leia had ever imagined for her first own home, but the small abode felt— right. Like it could be home.

Leia turned sideways to see Han still carrying out his own inspection of the structure, hands stuffed in his pockets, the whisper of a sigh just on his lips. When he looked to her, she could see the doubts swimming in his eyes, could sense his concern radiating from him in little ripples. He was trying so hard, trying so hard to hide it, trying so hard to figure it all out. For them. Leia reached out to him, stretched her arm out for him to take. Hesitantly, he drew her into his arms, held her delicately against his chest. She settled into his embrace, snuggled against him, and she pulled on his chin until he obeyed and glanced down at her. "Han?"

He grunted, "What do you think, sweetheart?"

It wasn't merely to assure him, to lie and display a facade of calm, but genuine hope, and a foreign enthusiasm for their future that Leia told him with all the conviction she had, "I think this could be home."

The Aldera Royal Palace had been Leia's home until she'd left. She had spent all her childhood and most of her teenage years in the room halfway down the corridor on the fourth floor— just below her parents'. Every Winter Fete Eve and A-Day were celebrated in the Kjerik Hall with the palace staff, foreign dignitaries, and other Elder Houses. Many a sunny afternoon Leia had spent outside with Breha in her gardens, walking through the fields and naming each flower as her mother carefully picked a few to braid into necklaces and crowns for her little princess. Her father's study had been downstairs, nestled in a quiet corner of the palace— a small office with a comfy chair Leia always feel asleep in waiting for her father to finish his work for the day. The Organas had had a small cottage home closer to the mountains for when the winter when the snow was just perfect to play in, but the palace had been steady. Even when high up in the majestic mountains, Leia would find herself missing her familiar bed in Aldera.

Happy memories could be made anywhere— Leia knew— but, since her homeworld had been destroyed, she had taken to the belief that there was something special about having a grounded home with family to make those memories. And, if she were to guess, Leia figured Han felt the same. Han Solo had as much pride in his planet as the next Corellian despite the childhood he'd lived out among the streets. For him, home had moved constantly— never the same bed (if there was a bed), or the same building for that matter. Up to the day they had frantically fled from Hoth, Han had sworn up and down that the nomadic lifestyle was the only way he could live, but Leia had long suspected it was just another part of the act.

Between the two of them, their meager possessions which they'd come with on the Falcon consisted mostly of just old Rebellion-issued blankets and fatigues and motel-quality soaps Han had collected to keep on his ship. Everything else— all the essentials they ever needed were provided for them by the Alliance. Perhaps, stolen or smuggled, but they were a promise, one less worry for the soldiers risking their lives. The realization had come to Han earlier, but he got the feeling that Leia was just now approaching the same turn of thought. They had nothing, and the Rebellion wouldn't be providing for them anymore. They had not a single legitimate Imperial credit to either of their names— only death warrants worth more than star systems. Han was beginning to grow frustrated, muddling his mind for an impossible solution.

They were digging through the various cargo spaces of the Falcon now, looking for anything to use in their new home. Han's sorting was more absent-minded at this point, and he was more tossing items from one side of the ship to the other compared to Leia's meticulous searching with her lasts of supplies they would eventually require beside a list of whatever they had found instead. Shuffling through a pile in his cabin, Han tossed aside a thin, gray blanket.

"Wait!" Neither of them had hardly spoken in minutes, and Han nearly jumped at the sound of Leia's voice. He looked up to see her pointing at his discard pile. "I like that one."

"Like what?"

"That blanket. We should take that inside."

Han retrieved the threadbare blanket and held it up. "This old thing?"

"Too many memories to just toss it, don't you think?"

Han held the blanket in both hands, one thumb stroking the nubby fabric. He couldn't remember where he'd first gotten it, but Leia was right— the ragged piece of cloth carried a few valuable memories from just the last few years. It was the same blanket which Leia had found years ago on a certain trip to Yavin IV when she'd draped it over Luke's shoulders as she offered him comfort in the midst of his grief. Hours after that brief conversation the two had shared, the blanket had been discarded when Luke had fallen asleep in the crew lounge, and Han had draped it over Leia, trying to offer his own comfort to the stone-faced princess. More recently, Han recalled their first night together in his bed; he'd been dumb enough to forget to lock the door when Chewie barged in to complain about something Han had left out, and Leia had frantically seized the blanket from the floor to shield herself. It wasn't much, but it was a remainder, a token of the first three years— the beginning of their story.

"At least take it inside," Leia further implored. "It doesn't deserve to be left in here."

"Sure, sweetheart," he promised, gently laying it in a box of other items they were taking into their new home. "Maybe, we could use it as a baby blanket."

Leia's eyes flashed with amusement, lips rolling to bite back a laugh. Pursing her lips, she decided, "Or, maybe we should keep that just between us. We'll find a nicer, newer one for the baby."

Han smirked. "That's fair." He made a mental note to venture into town one day so he could look for a blanket appropriate for the baby. It was already in his plans to look for materials to start building a crib and, perhaps, a rocking chair for Leia.

Though they hadn't been in Casita for very long, Han was starting to realize how quickly time was passing. Leia was already nearing the end of her first trimester, and her abdomen bore the slightest hint of a curve. If he was being honest with himself, Han was overwhelmed with each new reminder as the entirety of the situation became that much more real. The realization of their impending parenthood was setting in like a healthy dose of adrenaline. Leia's physical symptoms were beginning to become more apparent, a daily reminder of how much their lives were about to change. The pair had all the faith in the galaxy that they would get the swing of parenting and figure out what they had to, but the doubts remained. Neither Han nor Leia truly had any experience interacting with children let alone caring for one. Han was sure he had never even held an infant before, but Rewa had promised them she would show them the ropes before it came time for their own little one to arrive.

Chewbacca was fond of giving Han a hard time over the whole scenario. The wookiee had been fairly shocked when Han and Leia had told him about the surprise pregnancy, and he'd enjoyed teasing Han with all the shenanigans and parenting mishaps he could imagine taking place, but Chewie was genuinely and truly and happy for Cub and the princess. He had a cub of his own back home on Kashyyyk, and he'd told Han that there was nothing to panic over; cubs were much less scary than they seemed. But, he promised Han, he'd still be there to help with the baby. With Han's genes, stars knew Leia would need all the help she could get!

"You know," Han piped up, tossing the blanket aside. "Rewa was saying they've got a lotta' yarn and stuff at the markets in town. Maybe, she could teach us how to make one. That'd be real special."

Leia nodded in agreement. "Maybe, I could," she suggested. "If you're making the crib and a dresser. Let me do something."

He snickered. "You gonna' knit?"

Eyes dancing with mischievousness, Leia shrugged. "I'm already getting bored. It'll be something to do while we wait."

"Yeah? Something tells me it won't feel like we've been waiting that long."