CW: mentions of infertility and miscarriages.
Leia didn't expect to have so many opinions about the house. Claimed she didn't have time for any of it, there were far more pressing matters to attend to, then Han painted the living room wall an off-white and she couldn't remain silent. Or he tucked the donated sofa and chair against the back wall when they clearly belonged against the front and arranged as more of a seating area. He grumbled that this information would've been helpful earlier but made the changes.
She lost the battle over the kitchen table, though. Han argued it doubled as a counter and he and Chewie did most of the cooking. If it was a question of two-thirds of them slouching to work versus one-third getting on to a stool to watch or eat, majority ruled.
It was wide, solid enough to support both their weights, and also served as a divider between living room and kitchen. Leia liked running her hands over the top, the smooth wood and dark stain, knowing Han made it for them. It wasn't an elegant piece but it was perfectly suited to the room and them. Of course, she still liked to make a show of climbing up on the stool, adding the occasional groan or sigh for effect.
Leia sat up straight, her hand on the side of her stomach, as she released a hiss of breath. Han put his fork down and looked at her.
"You okay?"
"She's up to something." Leia took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "Not sure if she's commenting on your meal or not."
"She knows who makes the best dinner around here." Han gave her his cocky grin. "No matter what Chewie thinks."
They waited for another signal, both their gazes locked on her stomach. When nothing happened, Han rubbed his hand along her side before pulling it back. He had yet to feel the baby move and did his best to hide his disappointment with each missed opportunity.
Leia actually gasped the first time she felt the baby shift. She was in the bedroom, sitting on the floor with flimsies and datapads spread out in front her, when there was a distinct flutter. She sat perfectly still with a flimsie in her hand, felt almost paralyzed, not knowing what she should do or what would happen next. Intellectually, she understood what had happened but she wasn't prepared for the emotional reaction.
The baby moved. This was real. This was happening. This would soon pull focus from everything else that required her attention.
Leia's first instinct was to rationalize it away. Thought it must be gas or indigestion, though it didn't really feel like either. She had been deep into reviewing Ferra's records of ships entering the Ysper port, feeling desperately behind schedule, and maybe she had imagined it. Except that it happened again.
She dropped the flimsie and both hands went to her sides. There was no denying that one. She bit her lip and looked up at the skylight, mostly to keep her eyes clear of tears.
She could hear Han on the first floor, struggling with the heater that refused to engage properly or stay on for any length of time. He sounded frustrated. He was comming Chewie, looking for a tool on the Falcon, swearing about old machines and rotting wires.
He looked angry when he stomped up the stairs and she felt guilty about disturbing him for a flutter. A flutter that had since stopped. He rested his hip against the end of the bed, arms crossed, as he waited for her speak. She looked around the room like the words might be hidden somewhere. There was only the bed. Her side of the quilt straightened perfectly while his was still rumpled and half-turned down. The bed wasn't quite like the one in her dreams but waking up their first morning and looking up at the skylight, the blue sky above them, she recognized the feeling. Whether it was Eloira or Ysper, the bed and endless sky, or Han snoring softly beside her, it felt right.
"There was a flutter." She was whispering and didn't know why. Flutter suddenly seemed like a ridiculously inadequate word and the urge to cry returned.
"A draft?" He looked at the windows, adding another task to his list.
"The baby moved." She held a hand out and he crouched beside her. Leia felt suddenly embarrassed. She called him away from his work, kept herself away from hers, for nothing. "It was small but I felt it. Twice. I think."
"You think?"
It was his half-smile that did her in. His soft hazel eyes watching her. It still amazed her that he figured out the right times to push her and when to give her space. It was hard to believe he was the same man who proclaimed, No reward is worth this.
"I didn't know what I was supposed to do." She laughed. "What's the protocol for a flutter?"
He sat beside her, leaning against the wall and throwing an arm over her shoulder. "Who needs protocol? Thought we were just making this up as we went along."
That was, in part, what made her nervous. Feeling the baby move reminded her that she wasn't fully prepared. She wasn't ignoring her pregnancy or not acknowledging the excitement but had yet to fully address the coming changes. It sometimes felt as though an entire house was being built around her as she studied port records and comms systems.
Han reached across the table to grab Chewie's plate, almost knocking over a pile of wires in the process. He noticed Leia roll her eyes and growled in response.
"Don't say it, Princess."
"Say what?" She flashed him her most innocent look. "And don't call me Princess."
The other battle she was apparently losing, and still refusing to give up on, was whether or not the house, the kitchen table in particular, should be treated like the Falcon. She appreciated all the work Han and Chewie had done, were in the midst of doing, to fix up the place but she didn't want to live in complete chaos.
Right now, the table was covered in various parts and supplies that Han insisted he needed. The heater finally worked once he rigged up a side panel but the removed parts were still stacked and waiting for reuse. There was an old stereo he found in town—or rather almost ancient since it was clearly older than Leia—and planned to turn into a radio-comms unit. Or, you know, set up because music might be good. There were small canisters of bolts and screws and a micro-fuser in pieces that was apparently worth saving. To top it all off, two potted plants sat in the middle of the table because Chewie claimed the skylight provided the only direct source of sun and if he was going to live on a planet for months he was going to grow something.
"We should have asked when she'll be able to hear us." The baby had settled down but Leia kept her hand on her side. "It seems early for her to be responding to our voices now, don't you think?"
"How would I know?" He stacked their plates on top of Chewie's. "The doctor said we could contact them anytime."
"I don't want to be a bother." She looked down, smoothed her shirt over her rounded belly, still amazed by its size. Still slightly worried that she was going to get so much bigger.
Han leaned in, one hand on the back of her stool, and kissed her. Leia brushed hair back from his forehead, trying to flatten the fly-away bits, then frowned when they popped right back up.
"There's no taming me, Baby." Han gave her another kiss before carrying the plates to the sink.
Leia considered pointing out that calling himself untameable as he cleaned up the kitchen after making dinner for his growing family might be considered a contradiction. Instead, she decided to hold her tongue and admire his frame as he moved about the room.
That part had never been an issue. Perhaps she didn't notice right away, there was a lot going on when they first met, but certainly by the time she placed the medal around his neck she was well aware. He was a fine specimen of a man. She would have denied it under oath or torture but she enjoyed watching him walk around base. Tight pants and low-slung holster. Shirt opened to mid-chest, or done up and straight, or shirtless. He moved liked he knew everyone was watching and didn't care what they thought. For a period of time she told herself she was watching for the eventual crash. Then admitted she was attracted to him but that was the end of it. Then it was the perfect distraction and why shouldn't she admire him now and then.
Once they were lovers, she had the additional thrill of knowing exactly how his body felt. The ripple of his muscles, the arch of his back as entered her. She knew the pattern of his scars so well she could draw the map from memory. Knew he was almost ticklish when she ran a finger lightly down his side. His nipples could be so sensitive a perfectly timed lick could elicit a spasm.
But here, on Eloira, in their house tucked in the woods, it had reached new levels. Watching him work to fix the place up, make it livable, had the potential of driving her over the edge. She never thought she would be the sort of woman immensely turned on by a partner caring for her, taking care of her, but it was hard to argue against the evidence. Dix and Aendi helped out at various times but she had no interest in jumping their bones, so to speak. It was all Han related.
He took over the workshop, fixed up and learned how to use the tools and machines, so he could fix the cabinets and build their table. Helped Chewie with the security system. Cooked their meals. When he went for a shower at the end of the day, often covered in dust and grease, stiff and sore, she slipped into the stall with him. Ran her hands over his body, soaping him down and rinsing him off. Knelt down to take him in her mouth. Wrapped her limbs around him as he lifted her up and pressed her against the wall.
They had made full use of having a house to themselves and not being confined to the Captain's cabin. Christened every room and counter top. As quick, as loud, as slow, as often as they wanted. They would be back with the fleet soon enough, back to cramped quarters and figuring out how to care for a baby on a Rebel base. This was a temporary situation that, she had to admit, had its benefits.
"It feels strange to say our daughter." She let out a slow breath. "Feels more real."
"Having a being growing and moving inside you, telling you what you can and can't eat, didn't feel real?"
"A different version of real, I suppose." She leaned back, rolling her head side-to-side. She spent the afternoon hunched over her datapad and her neck and back were now paying the price. "Depending on what we learn tomorrow, we could have half a dozen planets accounted for. I'm still not sure how we can establish a secure line of communication but it feels like a small victory to have identified this many."
"Knowing they're there and getting them to talk to you are too different things. You can't bust in and announce Princess Leia has arrived."
"No. Not bust in." Leia looked around the room. She should have brought her datapad to the table. "But they all have unique codes to contact the Alliance. If we could get a hold of that list."
"That something Rieekan can do?" He turned back to look at her. "He got that level of clearance?"
"He does but he would need an excuse to look. Mon could but I'm not sure if she could do it easily on her own." They didn't want to draw attention to the Sulltarr system. If someone was watching Rieekan they might make the connection. Eloira was small and out of the way but whoever was searching would reach them eventually. "Good thing the doctor cleared me for all espionage activities."
She finally related, the flutter convinced her she needed more information, and they had their first clinic visit that morning. Filled out all the forms about citizenship and residence, how they intended to pay. Waited in a tiny room filled with expensive equipment for the doctor to arrive. Han was nervous, seemed almost like a caged animal at times. Alternated between holding her hand and pacing the room. He had been so insistent that they go but still seemed deeply suspicious about everything around them. She found it almost amusing until she didn't and told him to sit down or get out.
The doctor was an older woman who quickly put them at ease. She reassured them Leia and baby were healthy and everything was progressing as it should. Gave them a list of vitamins to take, things to watch out for, and their expected due date. Hearing that they were more than halfway there sent a rush of panic through Leia. She struggled to take in everything the doctor said and so grateful for Han, squeezing her hand to provide some comfort and asking a surprising amount of questions.
The doctor gave them a copy of the ultrasound holo without charge and said they didn't have to come back until closer to her due date when their resident's insurance kicked in. Unless anything seemed off or they had any concerns. Leia decided she needed to start making mental notes on everything that felt right so she would know if anything felt wrong.
"We need think about names." She needed to start making a lot of notes. How did she get this far in her pregnancy without a single list?
"Suppose." He flicked the switch on the kettle and went back to rinsing off the dishes. "You don't want to name her after your mother? Aren't there some Princess rules about naming kids?"
"Breha isn't a common name outside Alderaan. It would look suspicious if our child was named after the traitor Queen." Could she still say outside Alderaan if there was no Alderaan? "And we definitely aren't naming her after a cartoon character."
They had stopped by Aendi and Dix's after the clinic and shared the news they were having a daughter. Calla was over the moon, of course. She danced around, chanted I knew it, I knew it, and listed off the names from her favorite characters in her favorite programs and why they were perfectly suited for their daughter. Han scowled, made a show of refusing to entertain any of Calla's suggestions, which only made her laugh and suggest more.
A beep sounded. The monitor by the door lit up and Han moved quickly to check it. He slid open the panel and flicked on the screen.
"Do you see anything?"
"Nothing." He shook his head and pulled his commlink from his pant pocket.
She only half-listened as he and Chewie reviewed the monitors. They had spent the afternoon updating the cameras and security system around the property and expected bugs might need working out. Chewie put most of it together, placing monitors in the house, the workshop and Falcon. He spent weeks climbing trees and testing signals. It was designed to detect anyone entering the property from either path, the road or the woods. The biggest issue with the system so far was it worked too well, picking up animals moving through the trees and sometimes rustling leaves.
"He thinks it was the wind hitting one of the sensors." Han shoved the commlink back into his pocket. "He wants to put up an anemometer to measure wind speeds."
"Does that seem like overkill?" She started to push herself off the stool as the kettle sounded but Han got there first. "Someone might notice how much equipment we have in trees."
"We're not the only ones around here with a set-up. Besides, Chewie's good at this stuff." He dropped a tea bag in her mug and poured the water. "Wookiees are tree-huggers but they've picked up a lot since the Empire took over. You should see the set-up in his village on Kashyyyk. No Imp is getting within five miles without them knowing. But, yeah, an anemometer might be overkill."
"I do like that Chewie tries to be several steps ahead, though. Now if only we could figure out a reliable and secure method to communicate with Rieekan." She nodded thanks as he placed the mug in front of her. "Or anyone for that matter."
It drove her mad. They were in a mid-rim, thoroughly modernized system and there was no easy way to send messages. Forget about having a real-time holo conversation with someone. It was always risky communicating with Rebels but this was insanity. Every signal going in and out of the Sulltarr system was catalogued and checked at random. They had only been on Eloira for a month and she had heard half a dozen stories of people being notified that their calls were investigated and cleared. The notice always came after the fact and no one mentioned what happened if the results were otherwise.
Han and Chewie managed to leave the system twice, both times under the guise of picking up supplies. They sent and received messages but it was a frustratingly slow process. Leia was trying not to lose her patience and wasn't doing a good job of it.
It was good to hear Luke's voice, though. He sounded better, more like himself, yet still reserved. He wanted her to know he was going back to his training. He promised his master he would return and there was so much more he needed to learn and understand. Didn't know how long he would be but would return when needed.
That made her cringe slightly. They were likely on Eloira for another five months, assuming everything went according to plan, and that seemed like a long time for the Alliance to be without all four of them. Not that the Rebels couldn't survive without them but they played integral roles. She and Luke, in particular, were seen as symbols of hope. The Princess who lost a planet and now led an army. The farm boy who destroyed the Empire's ultimate weapon. In an organization of hidden or shadowy figures, they were known entities. Even if not everyone recognized her face.
"We can do regular runs soon." He rested against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll look legit. Even have some orders to fill. That last one out was too close a call."
It took a lot to rattle him but having the Falcon pulled in for a random background check—so they claimed and Han couldn't quite believe—put him on edge. He insisted it wasn't a big deal and he handled it, but she knew there was more to it. According to Chewie, the Sulltarr officials took too long checking their credentials, asked too many questions about how long they played to say in the system.
[Solo almost lost it. He was ready to race back here to get you. Get you out.]
After that, Han and Dix worked out the plan of Pon Atere the woodworker. It was a good cover for coming to Eloira, and for renting and fixing up the old place that came with a shop and equipment. It was a good excuse to get around the system and beyond. It required some builds, faking orders for delivery, getting a business license. Even if they were only on planet for five or six months, it would make everything easier.
As it turned out, though, Han liked it. He had a knack for working with wood. Chewie taught him about grains and joints and he spent hours perfecting his skill. It didn't take long before he was building pieces that weren't half-bad and then pieces that were reasonable enough to sell.
They had a template to follow. Menek's father moved easily around the system, passed messages between contacts. Leia had already connected a few of the dots and tomorrow's meet-up would hopefully close another loop. The government's goal was to create isolation. Convince everyone to stay in their lane, keep to themselves and not cause a fuss. Leia's goal was to lay the thread that allowed everyone to find each other. To remind them that they weren't alone.
"Have you gone over everything with Menek?"
Han shrugged. "Not much to go over. He went out with his dad and knows the drill."
"He's eager to please." She laced her fingers together and rested both hands on the stomach. It wasn't quite a shelf yet but she was getting there. "He wants to please you. You need to watch he doesn't do anything stupid. Basically, what I am saying is, don't let him do anything you would do."
"Nice."
"I'm serious." She may be serious but she still smiled at him. "He's not like either of us were at eighteen. Until his father's death, he had a comfortable and mostly sheltered life."
"More comfortable than living in a palace?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I had all the creature comforts but you know damn well what I was involved in and what I had already experienced by then."
"I know." He laughed. "Just needed pointing out."
"I know he's capable, and eager, but his world is upside down."
"We got this. Chewie and I know what we're doing, Menek knows the area. It's a simple job."
"Right. And nothing ever goes wrong on the simple jobs."
They didn't bother trying to hide their identity with the cell. Leia thought they had already wasted too much time. They met up on their third night in Ysper in a backroom of the tavern and Leia quickly took stock the group's dynamics.
Ferra was irritated by the short notice. She didn't like having to come up with an excuse for her family. Ferra was as officious and appraising as she was when taking down their information as they arrived on Eloira and, of course, she and Han immediately butted heads.
Menek didn't take it quite so in stride. His eyes went wide and even though he tried for a quick recovery he couldn't hide his excitement.
"My dad would've been real glad to meet you."
"Dix and Aendi have told me a great deal about him." She smiled at him. Leia could sense a nervousness about him and suspected it was about more than grief. She knew he was still reeling from his father's death, understandably, and it was compounded by his mother's sudden remarriage. "I'm sorry we never had the opportunity to meet."
Gren started the cell with Dix. Brought in Ferra. He made the first in-roads with Burnesh, selling him furniture and specialty items for his vacation home, arranged to have Dix work as his handyman. Menek first became involved when he was sixteen and proved himself quickly, picking up extra work at Burnesh's place.
"What we need is to get into Burnesh's house."
"Keep telling you, I can get you in any time."
"Breaking in is risky. Long game, remember?" She sipped her tea. "But if we don't find a way in soon, I might take you up on that offer."
"We can get past his security system. I can get in the safe. It would be better if he wasn't around but I can do quiet."
Leia snorted. Almost choked on her tea.
"Menek's probably still skinny enough to fit through windows."
"You are definitely not taking Menek!" She shook her head when he flashed his got you smile. "I don't question his loyalty but I worry about his enthusiasm. I don't want him to find himself in a situation he isn't ready for."
"He's trying to continue his father's work. You understand that one." Han stepped forward to rub at some blemish on the table. While she saw the table as perfect, he saw it as a flawed first attempt. "And probably has some messed up idea of saving his mother."
"I'm not worried so much that Menek might reveal anything to her but she might notice something. Ask questions."
"Yeah, she'd have to pay attention to something other than her wallet to see what's going on." He licked his thumb and tried to rub out whatever didn't look right to his discerning eye. "And that ain't likely."
"But Elihan might."
Ishlin, Menek's mother, knew nothing about Gren and Menek's activities. And according Dix, until she remarried, she had little to say for or against the Empire and little interest in changing the system of power. She liked order. Liked her social status in town. But Gren's death brought chaos and grief and she wanted no part of it. Then Elihan swept in and whether or not she officially supported the Empire, she had no issues supporting someone who believed the Emperor could do no wrong.
"Yeah, that guy's gonna be a problem."
"Maybe I should go with you." She played with the tea bag, bouncing it up and down in her mug.
"I'm going to buy equipment for the shop." He rested a hand on the table and leaned in. "Why would Pon Atere need to bring his pregnant wife to pick up a table saw?"
"Because he trusts his wife's opinion on this important business decision." It seemed like a reasonable enough excuse to her. "Or perhaps Liliana wants to do some shopping in the big city."
"Liliana's version of shopping is prowling around government buildings and eavesdropping on conversations. Long game, remember?" Han didn't smile but his eyes had a bit of glint. He knew her a little too well and was more than happy to throw her own words back at her. "Chewie's the muscle to get the equipment and Menek knows his way around. We'll get the saw, check in with the contact, and home by nightfall."
"Fine. I take it back." She sipped from her mug. "It's a brilliant plan."
Han chuckled. "You're only saying that because you thought of it."
She looked at him over the lip of her mug with innocent eyes. Han shook his head at her, still smiling, and turned back to the sink.
Leia tried to be mindful of the cell's dynamics and the work they had already done. Sulltarr was a system that claimed freedom but lived in practical lockdown. Dix and the small group had managed to gather information on suspicious supply shipments and indirectly led to a valuable contact within the Ministry of III. She made sure they knew the Alliance was appreciative of their work and that it contributed to the rebellion. However, it was almost impossible for Leia to not take control of the situation.
While Aendi thought the group was struggling since Gren's passing and needed a boost to redirect, Leia knew she might be seen as overbearing. Ferra seemed slightly resistant at first but that didn't last long. A month into their stay on Eloira, Leia was working on a plan, several plans, to collect and move information in a more systematic fashion. She had years of working in spy networks and that was knowledge she could put to use. Leia felt certain there was more than a few rebel sympathizers in Sulltarr and she planned to connect them. She watched her father and Mon help build the Alliance. She could do the same here.
The biggest indicator they had that there were more cells in Sulltarr, and that there was far more going on than they initially suspected, was Gren delivering more than data. Menek went with him occasionally and reported that equipment and devices sometimes changed hands.
"I didn't go with him for the actual pick-ups or drop-offs so not sure how it worked. Think it was a prearranged spot and he didn't usually see an actual person." Menek leaned forward in his seat. He was anxious to remember every detail. "Sometimes he came back with a package and said we had to make another stop. Mostly transponders from shuttles. One time it was a coder box. Another time it was a prototype of a new battery or booster or something."
Leia and Han looked at each other as Chewie let out a low growl from the back of the room.
[What did it look like?]
Dix, Menek and Ferra stared at Chewie and it took Leia a moment to remember that they didn't understand Shyriiwook.
"He asked what it looked like." Han nodded at Menek. "The booster. Or battery."
"Mechanics weren't really Gren's thing." Dix chimed in instead. "He didn't really provide many details.
Only thing he said was it was small. Not much bigger than a blaster."
[Do you think it's the same one?]
Han shook his head. "No idea, pal."
"Do you think you would recognize it if you saw it again?" Leia stayed focused on Menek.
"Maybe." He shrugged, looking a bit despondent. He didn't want to disappoint. "I might."
He wasn't certain when Chewie returned with Myka's booster. It looked close, similar, but he couldn't say for sure. It was about the same size as the one Gren delivered but heavier. Menek remembered it as being made of a lighter durasteel. Fewer buttons.
[Could be the next model. Imperials were bound to improve on the design.]
Leia couldn't argue with Han and Chewie's reasoning but wasn't ready to admit Myka provided the design. The prototype could have been seen or copied when on Ilani Station. Someone else along the way could have stolen the design. Myka wasn't exactly a securities expert. Who knows how many people he told along the way. Or this could be an entirely different booster and have nothing to do with Myka or his prototype. Either way, she wasn't ready to commit to the idea that it was Myka who provided the prototype or dealt directly with the Imperials.
"Do you want me to pick up stuff in Atroum?" He turned the tap on again.
"No." She held her mug with both hands. It was hot but soothing. "I can go when I'm on my walk."
It was part of her daily routine, at least until the rains took over or she was less mobile, to take the path into town and walk through the streets. She smiled at people, popped into stores, followed a new route every day, all the while memorizing faces and patterns. It was true that no one really paid her much mind. The town was clearing out and everyone was going about their own business. It was surprisingly easy to explore and observe.
It was how she first encountered Nilsan Burnesh. She spotted a man through the wine shop window, holding court and waving his arms as he spoke, and knew it must be him. He paused as she walked inside, nodded hello, and went back to his story about a truly marvelous bottle of Dullstan red he enjoyed last time he was on Hosnian Prime. She wandered through the store, listening in, and recognized him as, what Han would call, a mark. The perfect combination of self-important and desperate for attention.
When she took the bottle of green Alava wine to the counter, he smiled at her again. It didn't have any sinister or sexual undertones. It felt like he considered it his duty to greet and acknowledge every citizen of Ysper. Leia was reminded of Dix's comment that Burnesh liked to think of himself as a benevolent Lord.
"I'm surprised by your selection." He called to her in a booming voice. "The Alavan wines are usually an acquired taste."
One of the men beside him, who she later realized was Menek's stepfather, sneered. Leia felt a far more sinister vibe coming from him.
"But refreshing once you have." She had never had an Alavan wine and had no intention of drinking this one. But she didn't want to be obvious about spying so grabbed the cheapest bottle she saw. "Acquired the taste, that is."
When she handed the bottle to Han and explained what happened, he furrowed his brow in confusion.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"
She often ended her stroll at the tavern. Joining Aendi for a tea in the office or walking with her to pick up the girls at school. She could ask about whatever she observed that day. Fill in a few more blanks. Aendi didn't know everyone but she knew enough. The connections and history. The changing landscapes and fortunes over the years. Leia assumed Dix, who was more involved and determined in the rebellion, would be her main source but it was Aendi.
To Leia's surprise, a pleasant surprise, they discussed more than visiting Imperials and Burnesh's habits around town. Aendi took the lead on these conversations, Leia trying to maintain a natural detachment, by asking questions. Leia realized it was perfectly normal to ask how was someone was feeling, especially a pregnant woman, or if she had more energy in her second trimester but Leia wasn't used to it. Beings tended to stay away from the personal when it came to the Princess.
"Good." That seemed like a generic enough response. Friendly but not an overshare. And it wasn't a lie. She did feel better lately. Stronger. "It's an adjustment, of course, but I am adapting."
But I am adapting. Leia recognized how robotic that sounded. It was no wonder others referred to her as the Ice Princess or said she could only think about or discuss topics related to the rebellion. It was a fair analysis.
"I'm sure." Aendi closed the top clasp of her jacket. The air was nippier than expected. "There are expected timelines but everyone's experience seems to be unique. My cousin was sick the entire time. Through all her pregnancies. By the time she was on her fourth one, I knew she was a sucker for punishment."
"Four kids sounds like punishment enough."
Aendi laughed. "Exactly."
"How did you get along?" Leia looked into the schoolyard. The first few kids were leaving the building and running toward the play structure. "With your pregnancies."
"The girls are adopted."
Leia quickly looked at Aendi, checking for signs of hurt or defense but she seemed perfectly calm. At ease.
"I didn't know." Leia followed Aendi's cues and remained calm. Aendi didn't consider it rude or a problem that Leia misspoke. "I'm adopted, too."
"Right. I did know that." Aendi turned to look at her. "I'm having a flashback now of seeing you and your father on the news. Maybe when you went to the Senate. Dad said the Queen of Alderaan took in a war orphan and now she's the princess."
"Tank kept up on Alderaan rule?"
"Think it was more an interest in the war orphans."
Aendi waved at Calla as she exited the building. Calla returned the wave then went back to talking to her group of friends.
"We tried for a few years but I couldn't get pregnant. Had two miscarriages." Aendi kept her eyes on the school yard, waiting for a Basia sighting. "We were on the list to adopt for maybe six months when we got word an infant was available. The hitch being there was also an older sister and they hoped to keep them together."
"How old was Cala?"
"Almost two." Aendi waved as Basia ran toward them. "We kept their names. It was a connection to their mother and their home planet."
Basia ran straight at her mother, almost slamming into her legs. The girl hugged Aendi's thighs and looked up with a bright smile. She then turned to Leia and wrapped her arms around her hips.
"Leelee!"
The girls decided during their first dinner together that Liliana was too long to say. Too many syllables. They chose Leelee, even though it wasn't that much shorter and lee and li weren't quite the same sound. Leia quickly understood that logic didn't factor into a lot of their decisions.
When she got home that afternoon Leia found Han in the workshop. She sat beside him as he worked, going through everything she'd learned that day. The girl's adoption and Aendi's miscarriages. How that conversation extended into talking about Leia's own adoption and her mother's struggles. That it was hard when they brought the girl's home because her mother was gone and Aendi didn't know what to do. That her relationship with Tank shifted as he stepped in and provided a quiet but steady hand. The difficulties in being an only child and understanding sibling dynamics. That Dix, who grew up with a large extended family, thought the best solution was always to let them work it out on their own.
"No Rebel talk?"
"Excuse me?"
"You haven't told me anything you learned today about Burnesh or Imperial flight patterns."
She stumbled over her words, realizing she had strayed off topic. Insisted she did ask Aendi about who owned the vacation house on the hill. She did learn more about Menek's stepfather.
"Hey." He looked up from his work, tilted his head so he could catch her gaze. "It's good. Nice when you have other interests."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He was doing it again. Holding her center. One side of her mouth crept up and she bit her bottom lip. "I have plenty of interests."
Han didn't misread her signals. He dropped the spanner on the table and almost leapt at her. Leia laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he pushed the tools aside and lifted her on to the work bench.
"You gonna miss me tomorrow?" He stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Kissed along her neck.
She tilted her head to the side. "You're only gone for a few hours, remember?"
She laughed as his tongue moved back up her neck and he nipped her ear lobe.
"Just wondering if we should stock up on any activities." His hand grazed over her breast and he got the small gasp he was looking for. "Since we'll missing any spontaneous meet-ups."
She leaned to the side and turned to face him, placing a hand on his cheek. "And we wouldn't want to fall behind."
His hand went to the back of her head as he leaned her back and kissed her deep and slow. There was no rush, no one else demanding their attention. It was just the two of them. Leia turned in her seat so he could step between her legs. Her hands went to his waist, pushing up the hem of his shirt, her body relaxing into his.
She liked this fluid existence they were devising. How they could easily disappear into each other and shut everything else out. It was sex, certainly, but also comfort and rituals. He still read to her many nights, or when the rain kept them indoors. For her birthday, he brought her a sweet bun, this time from a bakery, and listened as she walked him through the palace's botanical garden. He kissed her and then the baby every morning, every night before going to sleep, even if he was too tired to speak.
"What was your mother's name?"
Han pulled back to look at her. "What? Why?"
"Why?" She cocked her head and smiled. "Did you forget we're having a baby? It's traditional for the parents to decide on a name."
He stepped back like he was dodging a punch. Grabbed the other stool before it tipped over.
"What's she got to do with it? My mother."
"What's she…?" Leia shook her head. It felt like whiplash to go from an intimate moment to this—Han coiled and ready. "Seems like that should be obvious. We can't name her after my mother so the next logical step would be to consider your mother."
"Well, consider something else."
He moved back to the sink but there were no dishes to wash. He turned the tap on then off then rested his hands on the counter and leaned forward. She watched as his head dipped. His shoulder muscles tensed and he gripped the counter. He was trying to calm down.
"Why are you angry?" Her words were sharp, perfect diction. She tried to keep her voice even but her defenses were rising. "Is there any reason why you won't tell me her name?"
"We're not naming our kid after her so what does it matter?" He picked up a plate to dry it and it slipped out of his hand and crashed in the sink.
"First off, we only have three plates so you better not have broken that one." She returned her hands to her mug, trying to center herself. "Secondly, you're not answering my question."
"Name our kid whatever the fuck you want, Leia." He put the still intact plate back in the drying rack. "Don't know how many times I gotta say I don't care."
"Actually, you have never said that you don't care. You've only avoided the topic that you quite obviously care about." She needed to maintain some composure or she might throw the mug of tea at him. "And I'm not sure how I should react to the idea that you don't care what we name our daughter."
"What the fuck difference does it make?" He turned back to her, his face contorted. She hadn't seen the look in a long time and knew it meant he wanted to run. "She's not going to be a Solo or an Organa. Her birth certificate will say Atere."
"Which is why it's important we give her a name that means something to us." She put the mug down. The tea was getting cold anyway. "So we've determined that neither of our mother's names will work. Mine because it could give us away as at best Alderaan and Rebel sympathizers and at worst the daughter of the dead Queen. Yours because, well, some mysterious Han Solo reason that no one will ever be privy to."
She was poking at him. Stirring him up. She felt the guilt rising even as she was doing it. All those times he listened and responded to what she needed. Argued with her or waited as she released the anxiety, anger or fear that threatened to take over. Held her. Reminded her of solid ground and strength and love. That there were some things she didn't have to worry about. But she had so little experience doing that for him and was at a loss as to how to do it now. He rarely allowed that vulnerability to show. When he left a door open long enough that she could see a way in.
"Drop it." His jaw was clenched and eyes dark. His arms were at his sides, still gripping the counter. The new scars along his knuckles emphasized by the pressure.
His hands had a new layer of calluses, cuts and scrapes as he learned tools and wood, pushed himself to do better. She could feel the difference when he touched her. His rough palms that could be so gentle. She came to think of the calluses as the next part of their story, the life they shared, because they didn't have individual paths anymore. Everything from this point forward was together. Wherever this war, this life led them, even if it meant time apart, they would always belong to each other. He helped rebuild her, piece by piece. Never ran from her pain, never shut her out. But she was starting to see that maybe he never really let her in.
"You won't tell me your mother's name? After everything. Where we've been, where we are." She leaned back, suddenly exhausted. "Is it a trust thing?"
"Don't…" He shook his head. Couldn't decide if his hand should be on the back of his neck or hip. "This is bullshit. One's got nothing to do with the other."
"Explain it to me." She felt drained. Like lying down wouldn't be enough. "You aren't going to say her name but could you at least let me know why."
"There's nothing to say, Princess." His voice was a warning growl. "I know this disappoints your Rebel bleeding heart but not every story is worth telling."
He was trying to bait her. Keep the fight going so he could storm out. Slam the door behind him.
She could see his cracks but not the pieces. They were all so deeply buried it was impossible to see their size or shape. Identify how and when they were formed. She wanted to help him, help him heal like he helped her, but there wasn't much she could do if he refused to acknowledge that anything was broken.
"My Rebel bleeding heart has nothing to do with it." She sighed. "I'm only trying to understand."
Han pushed himself away from the counter, grabbed his coat off the back of a chair as he made his way toward the door.
"Going to the shop. Don't wait up."
"You need to stop doing this."
"I'm not in the mood, Leia." He pulled his coat on. "Don't need the damn speech about me withholding or whatever. I talk plenty. You're just pissed that I'm not doing what you want."
"You've never revealed a damn thing on your own. You only admit anything when you've been caught." She sat up straighter, her energy restored. Not her anger but her strength to fight. "I hear women talking in the fresher and you have to admit you slept with Lt. Onorux. You have to tell me about Bets because we couldn't go there without me finding out she took care of you when you were a boy. And you didn't tell me we were likely to run into yet another person you slept with and I had to learn that information in front of a group of people who already think I'm a stuck up rich girl. You would be perfectly happy if you never had to admit a single thing that happened to you before the day we met."
For a second, he looked almost hurt but he blinked that vulnerability away and the anger returned.
"Thought you didn't need to know where I come from to know who I am."
"That's still true." She held his gaze. "I've accepted that you would reveal very little, if any, a long time ago. I don't push you to find out more and you know that's true."
He didn't acknowledge her comment but didn't turn away.
"I wish you trusted me with that information but I understand that's not how it works for you."
His hands went to his hips and he dropped his head back. "I trust you. You know I fucking trust you."
"I've made the decision to go into hiding and have a child with you without knowing your real birthday. Or your real name because we all know Solo was picked up somewhere along the way. I don't know if you have siblings. Anything about your father other than he wasn't a very good one. I don't know if your mother is alive or dead. Or almost anything about your childhood other than it sounded hard."
He was fighting his instincts that told him to run. She could see him practically twitching, anxious to get out the door and away from this conversation.
"Fine. You don't want to tell me your mother's name. I'll add it to the list and I'll learn to live with that one, too." She pushed her mug back and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table. "But you need to figure out how to deal with your anger because you're not going to do this to our daughter."
It took a moment for him to register her words. His eyes more confused than angry. Hazel eyes she found such solace in and hoped their daughter shared.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what I said." She watched him carefully. Waiting for the coming rise. "Children ask questions. Think about the thousand questions Calla has about the baby. We'll have to navigate certain things as parents in helping her understand polite or impolite questions but I'm not going to allow you to fly into a rage because she asked you if you have a middle name."
"I'm not flying into a rage."
She raised an eyebrow and he let out an audible sigh.
"You won't do this. React with visible anger. Swear. Storm away." She titled her head to the side. Lowered her voice but kept it clear and true. "Look at her the way you're looking at me now."
Han looked down quickly. Rubbed the back of his neck a few times before raising his head again. His jaw was still clenched but his eyes held something new. Not fear. But also not his usual confidence. Not the look that said he knew how to get himself out of any trap, every jam.
"Again, I'm not suggesting you should reveal anything you don't want to. They're your stories and you can decide when and how they're told."
"Thanks."
She took a deep breath. "I'm not telling you what you should do. I'm telling you what you're not going to do."
"Look." He stepped closer. He was getting his grit back. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not going to fuck this up. You know I love you. I love this kid."
"And how many times do I have to tell you I don't doubt you? Or how much you love us. That's not my point." She shook her head. "I'm saying do whatever you need to do, figure it out because our daughter is not going to live in a world where she thinks topics are mine fields and she has to work around her father's moods or emotions."
"I'm not…"
He dropped his head again. Ran his hand through his hair then over his chin. He looked lost. Like he was waking up from a deep sleep and didn't recognize his surroundings. She wanted to go to him, hold him, draw him to her. Their pattern, when words were stuck and emotions high, was to rely on the physical. Let their bodies connect and close that divide. Be vulnerable and protective and together. She should reach out to him, pull him close, wrap herself around him, but she stayed perched on her stool.
"I love you, Han Solo." She used air quotes when she said Solo and thought she saw a flicker of a smile. "All of this is rather messy and definitely unconventional but I chose this and I chose you. I know you're going to be an exceptional father. I honestly don't want you to be anyone other than who you are. You irritate the hell out of me, and I recognize that might on occasion be reciprocated, but I love all of you. A surprising and sometimes frightening amount."
It still hit her in the center of her chest when she looked him. Felt him move beside her in bed. His breath against her neck. Watched him learn how to work with wood, build something with his hands. Try and fail and then succeed. His ridiculously cocky grin and the way his entire face lit up when he laughed. He thought half her ideas were likely to fail but did them anyway because he believed in her and, despite constant protestations, he believed in the rebellion. It scared her sometimes because she didn't know someone could love her so fiercely, so completely. It could be overwhelming to see herself through his eyes but also so powerful, so safe, so thrilling.
"But this can't happen. I will help in any way I can but this is on you."
He didn't nod. He didn't run. He watched her, arms at his sides, jaw unclenched.
"Our daughter is going to be up against enough obstacles simply by being our daughter. I won't say if we win the war but rather when, I know what it's like to live in the spotlight and have parents everyone knows. That everyone believes belongs to them. I want her to be curious and courageous, like her father, and I want her to know that we are always her safe space. So keep your past as locked away as you want but figure out how to acknowledge that it exists without looking like you've got an itchy trigger finger."
Leia turned on the stool and awkwardly pushed herself off.
"Where are you going?"
"To bed. I am now utterly exhausted and done with this day." She put her mug in the sink and started toward the stairs. "I'll probably be asleep by the time you come up. Wake me up before you leave in the morning."
She climbed the stairs without turning around and didn't hear the front door open or close before she stepped into the fresher.