5/4/2

Traditionally, the Lifeday celebration is had a few weeks after the birth of the child. That's the one where the big party happens. The Lifedays that follow are smaller, private ceremonies just for the family.

But, with one thing and another, when Paige Tico was a little sprog only a few weeks old, they didn't do it. Too tired, too… everything.

Or maybe, it was just because now is better than then was.

But now, Paige is a year old, and Chewie can feel the tradition shifting, and the sense that this will become a hallmark of the Maji.

On the first anniversary of the lifeday, there will be a celebration, and a promise.

He stands behind Finn and Rose, who are holding Paige. Rey is next to his right side, Poe on his left… Kylo's several steps behind Rey, his hand in hers. Still… outside… ish, though he adds his voice, in as close to perfect as a human can get, Shariwook. Jacen is near, because he qualifies as an adult these days (though Chewie rolls his eyes at that, eighteen is a seedling. Granted, all of these babies in front of him are barely saplings by his count.)

But this is serious, the adults of the community, all of them, gather together to promise that they will invest themselves, their time, their talents to helping to successfully raise the new seedling, and bring it to fruition as a full, mighty oak of their home forest.

Something like that. He's leading the prayer, and most of the kids don't get the language, but they understand the intent.

They're swearing to the newest member of their clan, that they will put their lives on the line for this new life.

And that matters.

One hundred and thirty-seven years ago, Chewie stood at the first life day celebration that really mattered to him. He was standing next to his wife, and she was holding their first child.

He did it again five years later, and again ten years after that, and he had hoped to do it again, but the war came and the slavers with it and…

And they made their promises, and they planted the tree, and…

And he lost them. (And the trees fucking died in the war.)

He found his wife again, eventually, but…

They looked. They looked so fucking hard, but… They never found their babies.

And they tried… Between deals and smuggling and… Every port he and Han landed in, every group of stolen wookies, they tried, but the trail wasn't just cold, it was dead.

They never found his babies. And his wife never forgave him what happened. It wasn't his fault, not really, but… He never really forgave himself, either.

And it was easier to fly around with Han and just stop home every now and again to give his lady a pile of credits (They were married after all, and it was his job to provide and protect, even if he was shit at it. Even if he'd already failed in that so horribly that they lost each other, their home, and their children. Even if every time she looked at him, all he could feel was her rage at his failure… Even…) than to face her anger and pain and the marks on her body from her years of slavery.

The marks on his family of his failure to protect them.

And the silent rooms in their home where his children should have been.

Jacen wasn't exactly wrong about Han when he said Han was Chewie's pet. but he wasn't exactly right, either. Chewie found a person he could be close to, who needed him, who he could protect, and… He understands how, from the outside, that could sort of look like a beloved pet. But in the privacy of his own mind, Chewie tended to think of Han more like one of his sons. (His oldest son was just getting to the knows-everything-about-everything phase the last time he saw him, and Han reminded him of him a lot.)

And Han never blamed him for anything. And Han saved his life. And Han was… easy… to get along with.

And he helped to fill the hole where those empty voices lived.

And on top of it, they just clicked. He just liked Han.

His… body… liked his wife just fine. He got one whiff of her and just knew she was the one to make babies with; that their children would be strong and tall and perfect, (And Force, they were!) but personality-wise… It probably wasn't the worst idea he ever had to set a lot of space between them. But that's not uncommon for wookies. They don't mate for friendship. They have friends for friendship. They mate to make good babies.

Which is part of why human sexual relationships are generally weird to Chewie. It just usually seems like they're going about it the wrong way with the wrong priorities.

And it took a good ten conversations before he understood that humans could make babies accidentally, without intending to do it. (That's how many times Lando had to explain why Han and Leia were surprised that Ben was along for the ride, and Chewie's still a little shaky on that, but… Well, apparently Lando and Finn also ended up with, 'Oh, look, somehow doing the only thing that makes babies made a baby, I am shocked' situations. He shakes his head thinking of that. Humans are stupid sometimes.) That struck him as amazingly stupid design on the part of the Maker. But that's between him and his God.

The fourth time Chewie did this, he stood slightly behind Han, as he and Leia held Ben, and he made his promises to his fourth baby, the first of the human ones. The ones that wailed in a tiny, high-pitched tone, and fit in the palms of his hands, and had to be wrapped up tight in clothing and blankets to protect their soft, hairless skin.

He wonders idly if the tree they planted behind the house in Chandrilla for Ben is still there. The last time he saw it, it was a twisty thing, big, gnarly branches that went all over the place. It looked healthy enough, but it seemed like it was having a hard time finding the sunlight.

The fifth time he did it, he held Han and Leia, as they held a small crystal, a memorial for a girl who never fully formed, who didn't grow big enough to take a breath, for for that matter, to make much of a bump under Leia's dress. He offered his promises to a spirit beyond them and hopes for a better go around the next time.

They buried the crystal beside Ben's tree.

And then, as best he knows, they never spoke of it again.

But they felt it. Less than six months later, he and Han were done with trying to be respectable, and honestly, spending more time out and about, and less time with Leia, and the sadness she wasn't willing to allow herself, or the sadness she didn't want them to feel near Ben, because you can't really explain sadness to a toddler, not when they're wailing away, and Ben…

He never much liked Leia's idea of staying away from Ben when they were sad, but… Every time Han came home Ben just burst into tears, and… Mourning is hard enough in your own head, but having to try and deal with the toddler who just… can't understand and can't, and for that matter, shouldn't have to, control his own emotions…

They were better on their own.

The sixth time they did this, the only tree they could find was a tiny, sad little thing in a pot of all sacrileges. (It was barely as tall as Chewie… But they couldn't get anything taller than that into the Falcon.)

But, at least it was a tree, not some sort of ornamental shrub. (He glares at the small, bushy thing that Rose claims is a tree. Finn looked all over to find one of the bloody things, and spent way too damn much on it, but… In Rose's culture, itty, bitty trees that humans keep as pets in pretty little pots, so they can trim them into weird shapes, and then hand them down to their kids because they live hundreds of years are a big deal. There are a lot of things in this universe that Chewie thinks of as weird, pet trees, that should grow high and wide and tall, made tiny, is probably at the top of the list.) Cloud City wasn't exactly swimming in trees, so he and Han dug one up from their home outside of Hanna City, and brought it with them. Can't properly welcome a baby without a tree, so they were damn well bringing a tree, and that was that.

(He mentally sighs at the complete lack of trees here, today. In the celebrations at home, you'd plant a tree for your child, and your friends and family would also bring trees, add to the forest, extend the territory their clan would control for the next generation. But the only other person here who's even vaguely familiar with how lifedays work was ten days old for his own, never knew about the sibling they didn't name, and didn't attend Orlac's, because he was 'settling in with Luke' so he can't exactly blame Ben for not remembering that part of what the other family does is bring trees, too. Chewie glances out the window at the howling snow. Granted, any other trees would die pretty damn fast out there… When they get to Achc-To. They'll plant there.)

The final part of the ceremony, each adult takes the baby in their hands/arms, and makes them a promise, sometimes out loud, sometimes silently. The promise may be to the child, but the nature of it, and the upkeep, is between the promiser and his/her god/s.

Among the Maji, silent promises seem to be the norm.

So, he watches Paige, staring at the adults, eyes bright, and a little confused, as each one holds her close. Rey presses her forehead to Paige's, and thinks… something.

And then he watches the first of his hairless babies hold the latest of them, and bow his head to hers, offering… Something. Whatever it is, Paige appears to approve. At least, she's grinning as she grabs Ben's ear. Then she grins more as Ben… Chewie has to wipe his eyes. He's on the verge of crying at this, and he hates that, but…

Ben… found… made… He'd have to have made it, or got it made, or… There's no way it's the original one. The original one went with Ben to Luke's and… It was still there when they went looking for clues as to what happened and where Ben went. (It was hidden in the back of Ben's trunk. After all, Jedi weren't allowed attachments, and a stuffed toy from babyhood probably counted as an attachment.)

Chewie threw it out when he got back to the Falcon after Han died.

Han hadn't liked that, and Chewie told him he could go fuck his dead ass the fuck back off, he was not flying around with the pet stuffed animal of the man who bloody well killed him.

And that was that.

It's a blue and yellow stuffed tookka.

He's got Paige in one arm, still mentally talking to her, as she gnaws on the top fin of the tookka. Which is exactly the point of a toy like that. Something for a small person to hug and chew on.

He didn't know Ben even remembered it was a thing, but… Shit, he mentally whimpers a bit, and Kylo glances up at him, fast, looking like he just got caught doing something wrong. Chewie nods at him. It's okay, just… touching. When Leia was pregnant with Ben she made it for him. Because she had one as a small child. Breha had made it for her. And Breha had one her mother made for her, and on back.

He liked those memories, when the war was still smoldering, and they had important things to talk about, and he and Han were still useful, and there would be quiet moments in the Falcon, and the five of them could sit around and shoot the shit, and Leia would work on the tookka.

He clears that from his mind. Too much past, not enough now.

Here, now, Poe's finished his promises and is handing Paige over to Jacen who follows Kylo with another silent promise, and then return Paige to her mother.

The lifedays for his natural children, this part of the celebration could take hours. There were hundreds of adults, each of whom would make their promise.

This one took minutes.

But… It's a start. Finn's mentioned that Paige's little brother or sister is cooking away, likely because most of the kids were able to feel… him? her? within a few hours of Rose catching. There's no point to trying to keep a pregnancy quiet in this community. Half of them can feel it without being told, and then they promptly turned around and told the other half.

This time next year… The year after… They'll be on Achc-To by then, probably on an island with real trees, and there'll be a life day for the youngest Tico, and if baby Ren's lifeday is more than three years off, he'll be shocked.

Time will pass, and they'll gain adults. Poe's not really talking about his boy; he's still keeping that guarded, but Chewie's fairly sure he'll be bringing him home eventually. The older kids'll get out and about and start bringing people home, too.

Humans grow fast, live fast. Assuming Achc-To becomes a home, he'll likely get to see this baby hold her niece or nephew or child, and offer up her promises.

And maybe he'll be here for that nephew's child.

Possibly one more generation after that.

Probably not the one after that.

The holy ones say that a wookie in good standing, who's upheld the rights and his duties, gets four hundreds and a ten. That's the life of a good wookie. He figures he's in okay…ish standing and will likely see 380. But that's almost a hundred and thirty more years.

Plenty of time to plant seeds and watch them grow.

Han always, unreservedly, liked booze. He'd drink lighter fluid if it had enough alcohol in it, because it made him feel good.

For Chewie… well, first hour or so always felt good, and then he'd hit what Han would call the sensitive stage. (Possibly because wookies shouldn't be drinking alcohol made for humans. This does not happen when he drinks Grragkkah from home. Granted, the one time Han tried it, it knocked him flat on his ass for two days, so he doesn't bring it to human parties.) And by this part in the party he's well into the sensitive phase.

He's… thoughtful, and quiet, and well, as much as a 'walking carpet' can be, sort of just blending into the back of the room, sipping his drink, and watching.

Mostly watching Ben, who is either very studiously ignoring him, or here in a room with close to thirty people, most of whom are Force sensitive, there are enough other minds around him that he's not laser focused on Chewie. Which Chewie likes. Back in the day, if he turned his attention toward Ben when he was supposed to be doing something else, he noticed in a heartbeat.

His first baby, human one, somehow, when he wasn't looking, got old enough that he's holding his newest baby. He blinks a little, thinking… the man… kid… is barely 33…34… (When the fuck was the first Concordance Day?) that's not even adolescent by wookie standards. The idea that he's not just an adult already, but the kind of adult who is holding Chewie's current baby (and woe betide anyone who tries to suggest that Paige Tico is not Chewie's baby), standing next to his mate, (Speaking of when the fuck things? Ben got married. Ben got… well enough to get married. Ben got… Kylo-ed and… He blinks, making that line of thought turn off.) talking with her, and from the looks of it, desperately hoping for one of his own, soon, is staggering.

He doesn't see Han, but he can feel him. When the fuck did we get so old? he thinks.

The Han in his head laughs at that. That was their joke. Because Han got old, and Chewie… well… didn't. Forty-five years for him is just… not that much time.

But it was two-thirds of Han's life.

Ben really was a tiny little thing.

Okay, yes, really grasping that felt stupid, babies are, by definition, tiny, little things, but… Ben was little.

(Though Leia, who was perhaps on several more painkillers than were good for her mental filters, said something like, 'He's only little because you didn't push him out your twat. He's bloody enormous.' Chewie decided not to comment on that, though his wife had shared a few similar sentiments when he was cooing at how tiny his first son was, too.)

Leia hadn't wanted him in the room, which he agreed with. Han absolutely wanted him to stay nearby because if something was going to go pear-shaped, and the particular pear-shaped in question was a horde of pissed off Imperials, he wanted his best friend, his cruchalak, his Chewie there with the bowcaster protecting his family. (And if things went pear-shaped in any other direction, he needed Chewie there, so he didn't completely fall apart.)

(Chewie got the sense from the nurse that she didn't generally deliver babies in situations where the Dad, and his best friends, were both there and armed, with armed guards around the building, and the uncle was doing periodic fly overs just to make sure the sky above stayed clear. But it was Concordance Day, the first one, the signing was going on, and a LOT of people WERE NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT.) (Later, weeks later, they'd find out about the foiled bombing plot for the signing, and the snipers they caught on the parade route, and the collection of non-foiled bombings in other Rebellion, now New Republic, strongholds. Fortunately, Han and Leia's home didn't happen to be one of them. Mon Motha went home to ash and cinders, and Admiral Akbar ended up having to dodge laser bolts. For all the parties that went off smoothly, a lot didn't.)

He came… well, the way most babies do. There was a lot of yelling, Leia did not sound like she was having a good time, at all, and the nurses kept wandering in and out to check on her, and every now and again Han would wander out because they'd send him out to go get something absolutely no one in there needed, other than the fact that every few hours he needed a few minutes to get out and sag between Chewie and Lando and not be cool at all.

His mate was hurting, his child was taking his sweet time, because Ben was just dawdling about in there, and there was bugger all he could do about either of those things besides just stand around and be nearby and not freak out, so…

It was clear the nurses had not just delivered babies in the past, but also handled a few anxious mates, too. Every few hours they made sure Han had something to do that did not involve having to be in the room, and they told him to his face to take at least ten minutes to do it.

So, he'd head out, give them an update, and though it wasn't something Chewie did a lot, he'd pull Han close, give him a long hug (after all, if a Wookie is hugging you, you're not going anywhere) and make him just stand there and be calm.

It helped.

Eventually, there was less yelling. Lando worried about that, but Chewie waved it off. If your woman is in the part where she's pushing hard, she doesn't have the breath to yell about it, so by his understanding Leia getting quieter meant that she was focused on more important things, and then eventually things got really quiet, and by then Chewie was holding Lando's hand, (who at that point was swearing he was never going to have children) and then the small cry that newborns make, the almost cat-cry squeak of it, chirped through the room, and Chewie roared in satisfaction.

An hour after that, the nurses left.

And two hours after that, Han came to the door, looking exultant and exhausted, holding the tiniest baby Chewie had ever seen (also the first human one) and waved them in.

And then he handed Ben over to Chewie.

He was asleep, and he fit in Chewie's hands, and he had a shock of black hair that no one had expected, and ears that looked like scanner dishes, and his parents were utterly besotted with him.

He didn't make much noise. He did snuggle his face in against Chewie's chest, rubbing up against him, sleepy and content for a little while, until he woke up and offered a very startled squawk when he got a mouthful of hair instead of breast. That squawk morphed into a cry, fast.

Chewie handed a tiny, wailing banshee, (because three-hours-old, Ben didn't have gears between asleep and full-on scream) to his mother, while Lando called him a baby hog because he hadn't gotten any snuggles.

And he and Lando headed out because, well… privacy and all, and also Ben had the exact right cry register to just rip the ever-living eardrums out of a person, and they hadn't gotten around to telling Luke that Ben was here, so that needed to get done, and…

The nurse chuckled a little about the two of them more or less sprinting out, and did say that a baby's cry is designed to be as painful as possible for the people listening to it, so they'd get off their asses and fix whatever the problem was, but… once he got settled in, he'd be fine.

Ben cried a lot. And he was difficult to settle.

And… no one seemed to know what to do to fix the problem. Days went on, and he wasn't sick, and he was a fussy eater, but that's fairly common, and, okay, he wasn't a great sleeper, but that's common, too…

And…

Chewie sighs. And… covered a lot of those days and nights.

It's the sixth or seventh drink when it occurs to him that well, he does have his two babies here, and… Ben's last lifeday was… shit… he doesn't know. They don't use the New Republic calendar any longer, at least not in the sorts of places he tends to work, so he doesn't know when the hell Concordance Day is anymore. Plus, it's not like he can look outside and go, 'Oh, it's spring, so it's got to be soon.'

It was spring in Hanna City when Ben was born. What it is in Hanna City now, Chewie's got no idea. He hasn't been back there in at least two decades.

Part of him is thinking of sidling over to Kylo and just asking when the hell his lifeday is. Part of him wonders how that'd go. He'd probably get that soft, hurt look and then chew on his lip and act like he's about to cry and that just kills Chewie.

When he was little, when he was Ben, one thing he and Han were never sure about was if Ben got spanked too often, or not enough. Not literally spanked. Leia was emphatic about that. No one, for any reason, was going to hit her son. That's just… not how it was done on Alderaan. Chewie sort of rolled his eyes at that, because sometimes kids need a smack to keep them in line, but… He was Uncle Chewie, even if, as he pointed out, several times, he was the one who'd actually raised some kids before, and…

Yeah, that was probably a shitty position to put Han in, but… A lot of the time, to Chewie, it looked like Leia was doing it wrong. Or… at least… not the way he'd have done it. And, it'd have been one thing if it worked. If Ben got better. But he didn't, so Chewie, loudly, asked questions that didn't help, and made Han think things he likely didn't need to be thinking, but…

Ben was wild in a way that went with not enough discipline, and hurt in a way that went with too much, and… They just didn't know.

Chewie sighs a bit, remembering Kylo responding to him talking about he and Han trying to go after him. These days, it's abundantly clear the answer was got spanked too often. Chewie mentally, and sub-vocally growls at that. He still doesn't know if he should have pushed harder to try and get more control over how they raised Ben, or given in easier and let Leia have more lead over what was going on.

The demon was in Ben's head… What the fuck could have helped with that? Taking him on as a pilot and praying he didn't blow the ship when he got in a fury? Maybe? Or maybe that was a recipe for all three of them dead.

He sees Poe heading across the room with a drink. Poe's got to still know the Rebel calendar. He lurches up and heads toward him.

The party is rolling along, and the kids are providing a decent amount of noise, so…

It's true that Chewie can't exactly ask a subtle question, especially not in a small space if there aren't a lot of people there, but… There are a lot of people here, and some of them are at least tipsy, so…

He sidles over the Poe, which would work better if he weren't a third of a meter plus taller than everyone else here. Wookies do not, as a rule, sidle, if they aren't surrounded by other wookies. But no one's paying attention to him.

You know what day it is by the Republic calendar?

Poe's got to pause for a moment to think. He's a lot better with shariwook than he used to be, but he's still not what anyone would call fluent. The fact that this is an out of the blue question with no real context isn't helping.

Usually Poe talks to Finn and Finn talks to Chewie and it works.

Poe blinks and shakes his head. "Sorry. Uh, let me…"

Chewie holds up a hand, meaning stay quiet, because he's just as likely to pick Rey as Finn for someone to translate. And since he's not entirely sure what he's doing with this, he's not about to dump it on Rey. And since he doesn't know what he's doing with this, and there's no answer to that question that won't annoy Finn, he doesn't need to be the one translating, either. Instead, he looks over at Jacen, focuses on him, and thinks at him Come here.

Jacen looks pretty surprised, but he does disengage from the rest of the teens and wander over.

"What's up?"

Chewie explains.

Jacen laughs at that. "Shit, if you're gonna get him a present, I'm in, too." Then he turns to Poe. "He wants to know if you know what day it is by the Republic calendar. He's trying to figure out when the hell Ben's birthday is or was."

"Oh, uh…" He thinks a bit, and does a little math, and, "Ujleth 7, 39 ABY. We before or after it?"

After. Even Poe speaks shariwook well enough to understand that.

"Next year, then?" Jacen asks, looking very amused.

Chewie's watching his first baby bounce his current baby around. Maybe. He does look at Jacen, and then thinks to him. Next time we go for a fly, bring him along.

Jacen raises a brow. Really?

Chewie nods.

If he says no?

Then come alone. I don't think he'll say no.

Jacen looks over to Kylo, who's with Rey, and Ostrae, who is explaining, in a lot of detail, the desserts she made.

He'd like it if you invite him yourself.

Chewie nods. Maybe next time.

Poe stares at both of them, and it's clear he wants to butt in, but he decides not to. Families are complicated, and this doesn't need him in the middle of it.

Thirty-four years ago. On a warm spring morning. In front of a moderately sized group. Bigger than the one here today, significantly smaller than the crowd that might have gathered if Han and Leia had decided they wanted publicity for this, Chewbacca took a tiny little boy from his parents. He held the infant to his chest for a moment, letting him feel his heartbeat, and the soft grrs of him starting to speak, and then shifted him, so he could look him in the face, as he promised to him, to his Gods, to his parents, to the ghosts of his line, and the children this child would eventually sire.

To the past, to the future.

To life.

He held Ben Bacca Solo in his hands, and told him that he was his child, too. That flesh of his flesh he may not have been, but love of his love, he was. That he would always have a home with his Uncle Chewie. That he would protect him, and cherish him, and raise him up right, and that from that moment until he drew his last breath, they were family.

Ben gurgled a bit at that, but didn't cry. And for a tiny person with a visual focal length of less than a meter, he seemed to do an okay job of locating Chewie's face, and looking into his eyes. (Or so it seemed. Those little blue-black eyes fixed on his, and he stared up at Chewie, intent in a way that only Ben was ever intent.)

He's looking at Chewie now, too. That same intensity it still there, though he's confused, now. Even in this crowd he's apparently picked out that Chewie's feeling very intently toward him, right now. He looks worried. Thirty-four years later, and Chewie still knows that look.

He grumbles to himself. Part of him wants to just head over, slap a hand on his shoulder, and tell him it's fine.

But… It's not fine, is it?

It never was fine.

They tried. They all fucking tried, but… It never was fine.

He stands up to head out, and once out in the snow whirling around him, he waits. A moment later, bundled from head to toes, eyes barely peeking out from layers of black cloth, Ben is there, looking at him.

"Did you…" It's too windy. Even two meters apart, he can't hear what Ben's saying. Chewie knows he's talking, but it's whipped away.

Doesn't matter, this probably isn't a time for talking. He grabs Ben, and gently tugs the cowl away from his face, so they'll have skin to fur touch, and then pulls him close, so his face is pressed to Chewie's chest, and then he holds him.

Ben's frozen. Dead still. Chewie's not even sure if he's breathing.

Chewie strokes his hair. And he doesn't try to say it, though he knows that some of the rumble of his voice is there as he thinks Do you remember?

Chewie remembers. He held baby Ben this way. Held child Ben, and adolescent Ben, and once young adult Ben who'd been in such a flaming snit, he just grabbed the kid to calm him down, but after that… After that, he didn't let himself get within arm's reach. After that, he'd been learning to fight for years, and he was quick and wary and…

After that, he'd been, literally, untouchable because he wouldn't allow himself to be touched.

He's a lot taller now than Chewie remembers, and a lot thicker, certainly smells better than angry, hurting, rageful, hopeless teen Ben did, but… It still feels very similar. This is still one of his babies. The one that's named after him.

And he's shocked into perfect stillness by the embrace.

Finally, after too long, there's a tiny yes in Chewie's mind, and the feel of arms slipping around his back.

Chewie nods, his face against the top of Ben's head. And… he doesn't know what this is, probably not forgiveness, not yet, but… Maybe a place where things like that can happen. Maybe it's just… moving on. Putting the future over the past.

Or maybe it's just… Something that doesn't need a word or a label.

A lot of what he and Han had didn't fit into tidy categories and neat labels, so why would this be any different?