"Four years old today, Anakin. You're getting so big."
The sleeping boy does not stir, continuing to snore softly against his mother's chest. It has been a long day for the young heir to the Skywalker legacy. Uncle Luke and Uncle Lando showed up to help celebrate his birthday, planning to give him his first trip to the HoloFunWorld on one of Coruscant's further moons. They had to take a rain check, though, because the boy wouldn't go without his mother.
"I'm sorry that I'm not around enough, buddy," his mother continues to whisper into his ear, though she knows she is talking to herself. Her hectic, political job kept her from accompanying him on the proposed daytrip and tied her up all day. As if Han's accusing sighs hadn't been enough to expound her tenfold guilt, Anakin's open blue eyes had spoken volumes of his hurt. It was as if that wide-eyed look soaked up every emotion she was feeling, processed it, understood it, and still felt betrayed.
Those soul-searching eyes are closed now, perfectly, unimaginably content to be in his mother's arms, sitting on the couch of their Coruscant apartment.
"Your world is full of new discovery and new life. Every day you learn and grow. I'm sorry I miss so much. I want to be here, Anakin. Do you know that?"
"He knows," a deep voice answers for the sleeping boy. "Anakin knows everything there is to know about you. Sometimes I think he knows you better than I do. You're his hero. You know what he said when I told him you couldn't come home?"
"Did he cry?" Leia asks guiltily, looking up from her baby to her husband.
"Nope. His face fell, but then he put on this 'diplomatic' face he must've picked up from you. 'Dat's kay,' he said, 'I have my birthday tomorrow.' He wouldn't let us open presents or eat the special dinner or anything."
The Princess of Alderaan, who isn't known to be quick to tears, wipes the moisture from her eyes and kisses the top of Anakin's dark head.
"I already told Winter that I wouldn't be coming in at all tomorrow. It's not fair to him. How can he be so selfless? He's four!"
"He's just copying his mom. He's a really smart kid. It's almost scary."
"What if he turns out to be as powerful as Luke says he is?" There is a hint of fear in her voice. Solo knows exactly what she fears; by all accounts their youngest son's namesake was a child prodigy. This Anakin has already shown signs of greatness. The whole galaxy knows what happened to the first Anakin.
"He has all of us to teach him the difference between right and wrong. We just gotta raise him and Jaina and Jacen as best we can and hope for the best."
She lets out a small sigh. "Things were easier when they couldn't talk or walk. They are growing up so fast."
"Yeah, but they're loads of fun now that they can hold a conversation. They're all smart, and that means they're smart asses. And we better enjoy it while they still think we're cool. Wait about five years and the twins'll think we're the lamest people in the galaxy. I think you're safe with him, though." Han sits down next to his wife and son. "I think he'll always think you hang the stars. Like I said, he gets you. Guess I'll have to be the bad guy."
She smiles, first at Anakin and then at her husband. "He thinks you're pretty cool, too. I have no idea what he's talking about when he starts going about mechanics. You're his hero, too."
"For now," Han snorts with a grin, meeting the Princess's gaze. "But soon big Jedi Master Uncle Luke'll be cooler, 'cuz he gets 'im."
"Well, you're still my hero," Leia assures him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "And I'll always think you're 'cool'. Even if you're a little scruffy looking."
"Hey, who's scruffy-lookin'?" Han smirks, brushing a hand over his wife's cheek and kissing her lips.
Anakin shifts and whimpers in his mommy's lap, murmuring under his breath as he settles back down and resituates his head on his mother's chest. His parents laugh silently.
"Did he just say 'No, Uncle Chewie. You're too smelly!'?" Han whispers.
Leia chuckles and nods, sighing contently.
"Maybe we should put him to bed," Han says.
"I'll tuck him in," the young mother answers, trying to stand. "Oof. He's getting too big for me to carry. What are we feeding him?"
"Good old-fashioned Corellian fare," Han chuckles, helping her to her feet. "He likes to help me in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he's inherited his mother's culinary skills."
He gets a light elbow for that one before she walks off to put Anakin in his bed.
"Happy Birthing Day," he grins to her back, saving himself.
She can't help but return his smile over her shoulder.
*~*~*
"Mom! Mom! Get up! Get up!" Jacen's voice penetrates the sanctity of Leia's dreams.
The princess groans and opens her eyes slowly to find two pairs of brown orbs identical to hers staring down.
"C'mon, Mom!" Jaina echoes.
"Come on where?" Leia grumbles, blinking away the sunlight filtering through the window.
"We gotta get goin'. Anakin's birthday stuff!" Jaina continues, joining her twin in shaking the bed.
"Where is your brother?"
"Sleepyhead's still snoring," Jacen giggles. "Daddy said we'll get him up all together."
"Oh, Daddy sent you in, did he?" She hides a grin as she focuses on her husband's teasing face in the doorway.
"Yeah. Let's go!" Jaina cries, reaching for her mother's hand and trying to pull her out of bed.
"Okay, okay. I'm getting up," Leia laughs, playfully pushing the twins off of her and swinging her legs out from under the sheets.
The twins run ahead to wait in front of their brother's door.
"Good morning, Daddy," Leia grins, pausing to plant a kiss on Han's lips.
"Ew, c'mon!" Jacen stage-whispers as Han's hands slip around Leia's waist.
"Time to wake him up?" Jaina asks, her hand hovering over the lock opening.
"Wake who up?" a tiny voice questions as the door slides open to reveal the sleep-tousled form of Anakin Solo, brown hair sticking up at random places and little toes encased in footed pajamas. He rubs the sleep out of his blue eyes with the incoherence of a tired little boy and then scans the faces of his family inquisitively.
"You," his mother smiles as she approaches him and smoothes his messy hair. He half-grins up at her and swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Since you didn't have a good birthday yesterday, today's your new special day."
"Will you go to HoloFunWorld?"
"You have me all to your self today," she assures him. He embraces her waist enthusiastically.
"Thanks, Mom."
"C'mon, Anakin! Dad, Jace, and I made breakfast! Uncle Chewie and Threep helped, a little."
"They cleaned up the mess your sister made when she forgot the lid to the blender," Han teases, hoisting his younger son into his arms. "Don't worry, champ. I made sure it's edible."
"My favorite?" Anakin asks, his eyes widening excitedly at "blender."
"Yeah! It's your favorite," Jacen answers. "We made it special for you."
Han and Anakin lead the procession into the kitchen with Jaina and Jacen pulling their mom along by their grips on her hands.
Once in the kitchen, quiet Anakin begins to softly dictate where everyone is to sit, leaving room for Skywalker and Calrissian at the request of his dad.
"You sit here, Uncle Chewie," he orders in his soft voice, laying a hand on the chair he is speaking of. Chewbacca barks his agreement and tousles Anakin's cowlicky hair. When he's seated everyone, he crosses his arms over his small chest and surveys his handiwork.
"Where are you going to sit, Master Anakin?" Seethreepio asks as tactfully as possible. Threepio treads softly around the young machine whiz-kid for fear of being dismantled or reprogrammed.
The boy thoughtfully looks around the table, full except for his missing uncles' seats.
"Right here," he says with four year old confidence as he climbs into his mother's lap. "This okay, Mommy?"
"Wonderful, darling," Leia smiles, kissing the top of his head. He looks up to return her kiss. "Happy Belated Birthday, Anakin."
Stealing the phrase from his parents, he returns, "Happy Belated Birthing Day, Mom."
The twins groan and mutter their complaints about their brother's 'goody-two-shoes'-ness before Chewie growls them into silence and smiles at the youngest Solo boy.
There's nothing wrong with being a Mama's boy.