For otterandterrier, who was promised fluff in exchange for writing a snippet – it isn't quite fluff, it's a bit more serious, but I hope you enjoy.
Midnight Hunger
It started at dinner.
Or rather she would've said it started earlier but to him it started then, when he felt her nudge his inner sole with the tip of her foot and tilt her head meaningfully midway through the meal. He glanced over at the baby, saw no obvious signs of distress – heard nothing in her quiet babble that sounded like the Alderaanian equivalent of whining or cajoling or anything he expected from a three-year-old eating trying new food ("I always ate what my parents ate and I ate it right beside them; children shouldn't be relegated to a separate table with only bland mush on plastic plates") – and frowned at Leia. In return, Leia raised her eyebrows and tilted her head again before dropping her eyes to her food and pressing her lips together. He looked a moment longer at Lynnie and then he noticed what Leia was noticing. Namely, that if Lynnie kept this up she was probably going to choke.
She was perched on a few cushions so her head really should be higher – instead it was maybe four inches from the plate and her cheeks were practically bulging. Leia had meticulously cut Lynnie's food into perfect little bites and those little bites were now being shoveled into her tiny mouth very, very fast. Hardly chewing... Most of all, he noticed her expression: so intense and focused and serious, staring straight at her plate. Solemn, practically – and his chest ached and he thought fuck, baby, fuck…
"Slow down, sweetie, hey-hey-hey." He set his palm on her back to get her attention and she practically jumped, jerking back – "Whoa, baby, s'just me…" A quick look at Leia, and she was quick to cut in, reaching her hand across the table without hesitation and squeezing Lynnie's tightly, searching her eyes.
"Avais-tu peur, honey? Regarde Mama – hey. Hey…" She gave her a reassuring smile and stroked her hand and Han couldn't stop thinking about his hand, how it had touched her and made her scared. Had never done that before – sure their relationship wasn't nearly like what hers was with Leia but they'd get there soon, and she loved when he carried her, swung her around… his hand had touched her back when she was eating and she had jumped. Another warm, genuine smile from Leia, who was so careful and deliberate about finding the baby's eyes when she spoke to her. "Hey, 'loved. You're okay here."
Lynnie, who had been trying to hide her face behind her plate, finally smiled back at her a teeny bit, all shy. "Sowwy."
Leia reached out again and smoothed her hair gently and still he thought about his hand, how it had burned her like that. "There's nothing to be sorry about, honey. No sorry. Okay? No-no. D'accord?"
"... d'accowd."
"Good. Go on and play now. Lynnie? Go on, aller chercher tu amis."
She went off after Leia had given her a few more reassuring smiles and squeezes, and once she had cleared out Leia turned to him and raised her eyebrows way up, widening her eyes, as if to say, See what I mean?
He was still looking after her, jaw set rigid.
"Han."
"Wha – er, sorry, I––"
"Oh, Han – please don't worry, please." She squeezed his hand then, trying to catch his eye. "She did it to me this afternoon during her lunch – she really just jerk exactly like that, it really upset me too."
"Yeah. Yeah, no, m'fine."
"I know she can be a teensy bit jumpy but she's been improving so much – but then you saw – I mean, you did see the way she was – she was eating so fast."
"Yeah, I saw." Still looking after her, still tense.
"Is she – could she possibly be so hungry? She looked so serious too – it's very troubling, I just..."
He waved his hand clumsily, dismissive, not really hearing her – "Leia, could you just––"
She was already clearing the table, lips pursed. "Oh, please don't speak to me like that."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to – sorry. M'sorry, let me help."
But he was in his own head for the rest of the night – sitting on the sani just watching her play in the bath, sing-songing to herself in Alderaanian as she carefully navigated her plastic boats, looking on quiet as Leia combed out her hair and whispered in her ear and made her giggle. Leia had to come get him and prompt Aren't you going to come say goodnight? – when they made it over to her room she was already asleep. When he went to turn in and Leia was still at the kitchen table hunched over her work and rubbing her eyes instead of cajoling her into bed he let her yawned "Oh, I'll just be a little longer, I don't want to leave this undone" lie even though he knew she'd be up for at least another hour. Laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, thought about eating fast, flinching, jerking away. Those big eyes flashing at him when he put his hand on her back. That serious little face, four inches from her plate. He knew that kid. He knew that face.
The next day when he came home in the evening (because she was still home then – had rather famously given the iciest of stares to anyone who'd raised questions about her taking a maternity leave – Leia who spent her days doing full work at home while easily assenting to the baby's desire to never let go of her leg, who was a perfect mother), she pulled him straight to the baby's room by the wrist before pulling the blanket and top sheet back. There on the mattress: the remains of a whole sleeve of crackers, what looked like wrappers for some of those bars Leia substituted for breakfast, some berry stems, cookie crumbs…
Han nodded slowly, setting his jaw. "Huh."
"I was stripping the beds––"
He took a moment to linger on the sheer improbability of hearing her say those words – I was stripping the beds, gods, who was she – before interrupting with, "Yeah, no, I get it…"
"I don't know what to even – I'm so…" This was maybe the first time he'd seen her, in this whole time, looking genuinely… not even confused or distraught but… sad…
"Y'know what this is, yeah?" he said in a low voice, moving closer to sift through the crap on the bed, letting his fingers fall on every hungry thing.
"I think I can guess." She was hugging herself, face back to being business and collected. "Have you ever heard her? In the middle of the night?"
"Nah but she's light on her feet."
"Still." Hugging herself tighter, breaking a bit. "I'd like to think I'd hear her. Wake up."
He nodded to himself. Voice still low. "Where's she now?"
"I think playing under the kitchen table with her friends."
"Mhm." Stems, wrappers, crumbs... She was so tiny – how her tiny stomach must have hurt… fuck…
"I'm so – angry, I'm so – where is the oversight on these facilities, where are the people who are supposed to be advocating for these – children, Han it's outrageous…" Going through the motions of righteous indignation when her voice actually sounded very unsure and scared. Very young, she sounded very young. She was still so young – there was still – he never thought he'd say this – a helluva lot she didn't know…
"Yeah." He turned a wrapper over in his hand. "Outrageous."
"Han?" Her voice sounding impossibly small. "When you were – when you were young? Did you ever…?"
Running his fingers over the soft sheet, the one Leia had so meticulously selected, so ready to give her everything, so optimistic. His voice was completely and totally flat. "Yeah, Leia, I stole food as a kid."
"Not – not when you were hungry, though." So small, so nervous. "I mean, afterwards. Later, once you – had enough?"
"I didn't ever – 'have enough' then. When I was a kid. I just – grew up. Alright?"
Her hands on his shoulders, kneading softly, her face pressed against his back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
"S'alright." He took another look at the bed and then he began to briskly sweep the mess of the bed and into a small waste basket. "I can talk to her."
She opened her mouth and he sighed, edgily enough that she flinched in response––
"Yeah, you can translate. Obviously. But – yeah. Yeah. Tonight, before she goes to bed. I'll talk to her."
He was off on the Falcon during dinner and after and Leia could only pick at her food, watching the baby shovel and gently putting her hand on her wrist to remind her to slow down every few moments, her movements slow so as not to startle her. Watching her thinking how much can I do, how much can I give you? How much more can I give you, because I will give it to you, I want you to have it. Lynnie's shy, silly smile – "Ma-ma, porquoi tu is looking at me?"
"Just 'cause je t'aime, baby." Did she know that? Does she know that? Should I say it more? How can I make her know? Tonight she slipped into the bath with her, let the baby try to shampoo all of her long hair, she'd squealed with delight, did she know, do you know, do you know how much you mean to us? Not sure who she was talking to, in her mind, anymore - thinking to Han, too, don't you know? Don't you know how much you mean to us? "'Cause I love you very much."
She was under the covers with the baby, both of them in white nightgowns with wet braided hair – her favorite kind of night. She'd been given three of the "friends" to hold – "these with you, Mama, d'accowd?" – and she clutched them eagerly – maybe if she held them tight enough she would know, know how much she meant to them? Her favorite kind of night – Lynnie clinging to the collar of her nightgown and whispering into her ear everything she thought a secret, her hushed voice slipping between Basic and Alderaanian to confess that sometimes she liked to take a nap on the floor under the kitchen table, sometimes her "friends" liked to sleep in Mama's bed, sometimes she held up a towel and pretended her hair was all long and pretty like her mother's.
"Guess what?" she kept whispering in Lynnie's ear, serious and solemn.
And every single time she looked up at Leia anxiously, seriously, nervous. "Wha?"
"Je t'aime."
And always she acted like she was so happily surprised and pressed her face to Leia's breasts to hide how gleefully embarrassed she was at her big silly smile and Leia thought how many times do I have to say it before she isn't surprised anymore? How many times had Han – she was still surprised, maybe, sometimes, when he said it.
She stroked Lynnie's wet braids and thought about Alderaan, and home, and someone saying Mama – her mother never hearing someone call her Mama – but she liked to think her mother would be proud. She liked to think of her mother. She liked to think about calling up her mother and crying out How do I make everything perfect for her? How can I smooth it all, make it all perfect?
She was still stroking her hair contemplatively when the bedroom door cracked open a bit more, more light streaming in. Lynnie clutched at the front of her nightgown and Leia sat up, patting her hair and murmuring a few words before squinting in the light. "Han?"
"Sorry, I – sorry, lost track of time. Hey, you guys." He waved his fingers lightly and Leia felt Lynnie move to rest her head in her lap, content and comforted that it was him.
"Where've you – … it doesn't matter. Come say goodnight."
"I actually…" He shifted, then came in and kneeled beside the bed and brushed his hand Lynnie's hair in her lap. "Hey, baby… you still awake?"
Leia's soft voice, sounding not so much like a reminder of everything still between them but instead a gentle echo, a reinforcement – her and me both, we love you very much, your mama and I. "Es-tu réveillé?"
She nodded sleepily, peering at him, putting her thumb in her mouth.
He stroked her hair, smiling a little at her. Fond. "Can I show you something?"
Her and me both, we love you very much, your mama and I. "Peut-il te montrer quelque chose?"
She plucked the thumb out and gave a little nod. "...Otay."
"Okay. Good." And then he was lifting her up easily, kissing her hair quickly before heading off to the kitchen, Leia trailing behind, curious.
He stopped before the fridge and shifted her to his hip before opening it and whispering something to her, Leia couldn't quite make it out. Something – in Alderaanian, was that possible? It sounded vaguely like it, but that couldn't be right. The same word, repeated as he held her while lightly. It took her a second to recognize it, and then she placed it – Plenty.
And then – moving around all of the food, as if demonstrating it and – had he learned, did he really know the Alderaanian names for almost everything in their fridge? Touching and then leaning fully into the fridge so she could touch too. Everything they had, each word, her correcting him while giggling when he got it wrong. And then again – plenty. Opening every drawer of produce, peering into each carton of milk or juice, counting eggs, letting her inspect it all. See for herself.
See for herself – what would Leia have done? Probably sat her down and talked to her, prepared a speech; he was saying very little other than these few words, instead gamely unscrewing tops so she could peek at how much jelly they had left, how much tomato sauce. Letting her see it for herself. Plenty. Plenty. Dipping and lifting her to reach every crevice. Patient when she stuck her fingers places, squeezed fruit, made his shirt sticky and stained. Moving through each cabinet too. Patient. Plenty.
"Assez pour toi and moi and your mama, okay, baby? Assez. Beaucoup." Tapping her nose. "Okay, baby?"
Smiling a little shy, whispering around her thumb. "... otay."
"Promise? Okay? You've got it?"
Taking out her thumb and smiling a little more. "Ye-es."
"Okay. C'mon now."
And then they were sitting cross-legged on the floor and he was opening one of the few drawers she could reach, pulling out a metal box with a lid – something from the Falcon? Shined up a bit – and was he pointing along the side, the letters of her name, carved in there? She was tracing it, repeating back the letters all soft.
"That's you, right?"
"C'est me."
"Okay. Good. This is for you. You only. Okay? Just you."
"Just me."
"Okay. Open it up now. Go on."
She glanced back at Leia, who nodded. "Ouvrez-le, honey."
She opened it slowly and he was biting his lip, wearing a crooked, nervous smile.
Leia's hand flew over her mouth. Lined up so neatly, maybe twelve in all, were tiny bags of snacks, perfectly portioned. "Only you. Okay? For – Lei, how d'you – 'middle of the night'?"
"Au milieu de la nuit… oh, Han..."
"Au milieu de la nuit. If you're hungry. Er – it's affamé, right? Affamé. Milieu de la nuit. Okay? Just one, okay? Une? But it's yours, baby, all for you. Okay?"
She was running her fingers over each little bag, then retracing her name along the side. "Moi."
"Yes. You. Lynnie. Okay?"
"Otay."
"Okay. Bedtime now. Go on and put it back."
"Répondez, honey." Leia, faintly, unable to look away from them.
Lynnie returned the box to the drawer and closed it, then turned to him and held up her arms.
He was so cool, so calm – like this was parenting as usual, no big deal. "You want up? Okay, we can do up. C'mere now."
Instead she rushed forward and hugged him tightly, almost too tight – clinging hard, not saying a word.
"Hey, alright – hey-hey." Hugging her back warmly, a little surprised. "Mm, hey there, you." He rested his chin on the top of her head and mumbling, so quiet Leia almost missed it. "Hey, you. 'Ve been there. I know. I'll look out for you, alright? Just – mm – gotta trust me, alright? I know."
Lynnie's confused whisper as he scooped her up, glancing at Leia for translation. "Quelle?
"Mm, nothing. Je t'aime, je t'aime."
She smiled a little into his neck as they headed back to her room, Leia lingering in the kitchen. "Oh… je le sais…" Oh, I know that.
"What's that, hon?"
Yawning wide as he settled her into her bed. "Je le sais – je t'aime – love tu."
He beamed and kissed her forehead. "Hey. I love you too."
When he was back in the kitchen Leia was waiting there, leaning against the table, contemplating him.
"Hey. Sorry I missed bedtime, I––"
"How do you say 'it's okay' in Corellian?"
"Hmm… vse normal'no."
She nodded. "What about, 'you amaze me every single day'?"
"Mm…" His voice low and content as he watched her move closer to him. "Something like – vy menya udivlyayete kazhdyy den."
"What about, 'you're an incredible father'?"
"Ty neveroyatnyy otets."
Her arms around his neck, her lips along his jaw. "And I'm so lucky and grateful."
"I mne tak povezlo i blagodarno."
"And I love you."
"I ya lyublyu tebya."
"And I love you very much."
"I ya ochen' lyublyu tebya."
"And I love you so very much, Han."
"I ya ochen, ochen lyublyu tebya. Leia." He reached up and smoothed her hair. "Approximately."
He ducked his head slightly to kiss her, but she stopped him. "Wait. Repeat it one more time."
"Ya ochen, ochen lyublyu tebya, Leia."
She nodded seriously. "Slower?"
"Ya ochen, ochen lyublyu tebya, Leia."
"Ja… ochen, ochen... lyoo-blyoo... tee-byah." She smiled at him softly, looking up through her eyelashes. "Han."
"Eh. Not too bad," he teased, smiling crookedly.
She kissed him, then smiled against his mouth. "Mm… merci." Kissed him again, a little harder. "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime…"
"Hmm…" he said, stroking her hair and grinning again well she held him tight. "So in Alderaanian, how would you say – I know?"
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