A/N: OOF. I'm back, though definitely feeling post Skywalker-movie-content sadness. I was working on this one-shot piece before TROS was released and it happened to fit in so nicely while remaining canon compliant that I knew I just had to finish it.

I hope that it gives you all a nice, intimate Leia/Rey moment that we didn't have an opportunity to see on the screen.

Enjoy!

(icon art - "A Balance" by Diana Novich)

The voices swirl around and are deafening in her ears, coaxing her, though she fails to understand the tongue of their whispers. She just knows.

Her hand reaches for the texts, illuminated by the single beam of light overhead that has found a crack in the ancient tree. The voices have become deafening in her ears with excitement but a joining presence interrupts their clamorous shrills.

"Who are you?" The question is accusatory but gentle.

Rey doesn't have an answer for that.

"We have everything that we need."

General Leia's words reverberated across her mind, soft waves against her consciousness after a tumultuous storm of thoughts: Anxieties, questions, regrets. Rey adjusted her grip on the fractured handle of her saber. How could the General be so certain?

She was unaware how much time had passed when she eventually felt Lieutenant Connix's hand gently on her back, advising her that the fresher was available. The previous buzz of chatter that had filled the Falcon's common space had dwindled to hushed conversations in the far corners of the freighter. They would be landing soon, though where Rey was unsure where as her attention was far across this galaxy.

Rey entered the fresher now. The water was just short of scorching as it purged her skin of lingering salt and blood, her open wounds stung at the stream's touch. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the mixed sensation of pain and cleansing that came with the water gliding across her bare skin. The heat, as it was comforting, gradually coaxed the materialization of images Rey rather forget: A battle-scorched throne room, littered bodies, the smell of scorched fabric – then, him, standing there, as if his likeness was also burned in her memory. Her body reminisced the shiver of energy that had coursed through her body, their abilities in those crucial moments tethered by their connection. Then, finally, his gloved hand extended towards her-

Rey gasped for air, a choking sob escaping her body as she hastily gripped the fresher's handle, it gushing icy water in response. Breathing heavily, she steadied herself with her palms splayed against the wall and her forehead pressed against the dingy tile. Her mouth hung agape and her tongue felt a saltiness that was no longer remnants of Crait.

She felt ashamed of her desire.

What kind of Resistance hero was she?

Another planet, safely tucked in the outer rim of the galaxy. For now.

Rey was admittedly a bit skittish of the Falcon, the sole vehicle carrying the remainder of the Resistance, being recognized by the local townspeople. You never know who may be loyal to the First Order 's vision or just looking to make off with some credits. Leia had scoffed at Rey's offer to take the freighter on her own to the outskirts in attempts to avoid drawing unwanted attention. "Don't let Han lead you to believe this piece of junk has more notoriety than it does." Rey had merely nodded in response, but did not miss the sad, wistful smile as the General turned away from her.

The small village was, surprisingly, welcoming of the unannounced arrival of their strange gaggle of tattered refugees. The remaining crew, eager to stretch their legs the evening, decided on an impromptu night on the town. Thought slightly tempted by the notion of decompressing at the local cantina and the potential of building alliances over libations, Rey politely declined their eager invite. She was grateful for the quiet that followed after the freighter emptied of guests.

She was presently laid on her back on the Falcon's master bed, loose strands of damp hair encircling her head. She had begged for someone, anyone, to take the pilot's private quarters. Its amenities and wide mattress, though worn and dated, had always felt too lavish for the former scavenger. She had pleaded with the former princess to take her rightful room, however, even Leia had ignored her. She instead chose to tuck away for a private moment in the freighter's cockpit. Rey surmised that they were likely a certain amount of comfort for the General to be present in the space her past partner not only once spent most of his time, but where they had shared adventures together. Rey could not deny feeling a sort of reverence when sitting in his piloting chair.

Rey knew she should go to sleep, as her body ached from exhaustion, but her mind was running so fast she was unable to grasp a coherent thought. Nonetheless, she whipped her legs off the side of the mattress and went straight for the opposite side of the room, as if drawn by an invisible energy. Crouched down, her hands quickly found handles against the wall's paneling to reveal a deep drawer. The Jedi texts, visibly weathered with an untraceable age, sat snugly inside. Rey's fingers grazed over their brittle binding before selecting one encompassed by faded crimson leather. Once returned to the bed, she opened the ancient texts up carefully onto her lap. Its foreign inscriptions boldly stared up at her and she could not help but feel slightly mocked and inadequate by their coded mysterious. Her narrow shoulders sunk from an invisible weight. We have all we need, Leia had said, but what was all exactly?

"Rey?"

A sudden tap on the door of her quarters jolted Rey in an upright position, knocking the text from her lap onto the floor. Kriff – it was delicate!

"Rey?" The surprise visitor repeated, this time Rey recognized the voice of Leia Organa. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Uh-" Rey now felt extremely silly, but still instinctively shoved the text under the covers of her bed like a youngling caught with a cookie. "Yes, come in!"

At her verbal permission, Leia Organa entered the room, looking regal as always. Her silver streaked hair was delicately braided to her side, resting on the shoulder of a deep maroon shawl pulled over her nightgown. She noted Rey's own loose tunic, bare shoulders, and pants, which Rey had grown suddenly self-conscious of. "I'm sorry, were you about to turn in?"

"No, Leia-" She faltered "Prin-General Organa." Rey grinned sheepishly at her fumble over titles. "I can't seem to sleep much these days anyway," she admitted.

Leia walked over to join Rey on the side of the bed, her hand motioning as if to wave any unnecessary formalities away. "Me neither."

Before she could discover for what she could owe this late night visit from the former Princess of Alderaan, Rey clumsily smoothed the unoccupied blankets and sheets, with care that the text remained covered, and reached for her hairbrush.

"May I?"

Rey was unable to hide her perplexed expression as she wordlessly surrendered her brush to Leia, who motioned for her to turnaround. With her back now towards the General, Rey felt gentle fingers immediately at work with her damp hair, soon followed by comforting sensation of bristles. Rey sat stunned. She couldn't recall the last time someone had brushed her hair.

Leia did not seem perturbed by Rey's silence, softly humming to herself as she worked through the day's tangles. She was the first to speak: "We've had a long day."

Rey chewed the inside of her cheek, unable to formulate a reply other than giving a soft nod of agreement. Though she felt gutted, she was unable to even faintly comprehend the anguish Leia was burdened with. Poe had shared with her the details of her dear friend's heroic last act just before the sacrifice of her own brother who, in his last moments also, saved the remaining Resistance. Rey squeezed her eyes shut at the memory of the sudden wave of contentment that passed through her as Luke left this life; a sensation both she and Leia had shared. She had imagined it was to remain in her memory just as vividly as the anguish of Han Solo as his lifeless body crumpled down the bowels of Starkiller Base. Her mouth had gone dry though her cheeks streaked with a new dampness. "I'm so sorry."

Her voice was tired. "So am I."

Brush, brush.

"But we must keep moving forward. It's what they wanted – lest their sacrifices be in vain."

Brush, brush.

"Especially Luke." Rey felt her heart twinge at Leia's mention of her late brother. "He always carried so much hope. His faith for beings in this galaxy and their innate goodness never wavered." Rey had heard the whispers and legends of the Emperor's fall at the hand of his redeemed apprentice, all because of a young Jedi who laid down his weapon: an act of forgiveness, a refusal to spill one's own blood. An act of love, not violence, was what had brought down the Sith.

She had stopped brushing.

"That's why it had hurt so much when he disappeared. If Luke had lost hope, what did it mean for the rest of us?" What did it mean about Ben?

Despite the weight of her remark and unvoiced question, Leia chortled to herself before once again returning her attention to Rey's hair. "I had a more difficult time with forgiving. Maybe that's why I was not the Jedi – it was for the best."

Rey needed to know more. "Darth Vader," She treaded carefully, feeling the weight of the next words on her tongue. "He was your father."

"Yes." Leia replied, her response both direct and shameless. "My parents, as I knew them to be, had shielded me from the truth for so long to protect me. They intended to tell me one day: whether it was when they knew I was safe or was old enough to posses such knowledge, I will never know." Rey sensed a longing rippling beneath the surface of her words as she continued. "Our parents' parentage was a guarded secret by my brother and I from the rest of the galaxy – everyone else who had known the truth was all but gone. That is, until a political opponent of mine made the discovery and felt it was best to be revealed to other members of the Galactic Senate." She gave a heavy pause. "The truth divulged from my hands put my integrity into question, costing my reputation to the Republic, and…" Her voice trailed. Ben.

Rey did little to mask her appalled expression, her mouth ajar slightly despite herself.

Leia tsked softly. "Politics can be a dirty game, my dear; one where hands get very dirty. Whether or not the individual seeks power for themselves or power for the people determines their character."

But you were a hero of the Galactic War – you gave everything, everything to the Rebellion," Rey stammered, her heart sinking at the thought of Leia Organa's home planet of Alderaan: an incredible loss of history, culture, and immense life, all just a mere pawn in the way of the Empire's destructive path achieving its heinous agenda. "How could anyone question your loyalty to the cause?"

"Fear can be powerful tool, causing distrust even amongst allies. I prefer to think that my senatorial peers felt so strongly in their obligation to protect those in the New Republic that they did what they thought was necessary." Leia huffed slightly before quipping dryly. "I suppose I can find some glimmer of integrity in that." A smile escaped the corner of Rey's mouth. Spoken like a true politician.

Leia's hands were working diligently now, pulling Rey's hair gently back from her face. She was enjoying the General's maternal attentiveness.

"So, yes, Darth Vader was my father – but only by blood – and his ending would never determine my story."

You have no part in this story. Ben's words echoed in her mind, as they did in times of quiet. Rey was haunted by the memory ever since she had escaped the crumbling Supremacy, but this time she detected a hint of weariness she had never noticed before. His grandfather's legacy was an obsession, a birthright that Ben Solo felt he needed to eclipse. It consumed him. His fear seeped his innermost thoughts: she had felt his vulnerability when their minds unexpectedly melded while his prisoner onboard the Finalizer.

The truth of his family was a burden. The truth of hers left her lost.

You come from nothing.

As if noting her uneasy silence, Leia soothed. "We are not limited by those who come before us. Rey-" Leia earnestly turned Rey to face her, her hands finding the sides of her arms with gentle grazing of her thumbs for reassurance. "One's lineage does not provide a map to one's destiny." The princess' chin dipped for emphasis, the following words were soft by did not lack fervor. "There are things stronger than blood."

Rey had no immediate reply but did not dare look away from the unwavering eyes that held her own. These honest warm brown eyes held unspoken stories of heartache, love, and resilience of a leader she greatly admired. There, she sensed Leia's overwhelming yearning to provide guidance to a young woman swept up in tumultuous time of familiar self discovery, yet, there was something else concealed behind her gaze that Rey struggled to identify. Could Leia be hiding something from her? Although the idea initially stung, Rey did not dwell on it. She thought to whispered conversations across a smoldering fire, private quarters, a touch of a hand –

She was in no position to be upset over secrets.

"Here." Leia's voice interrupted Rey's reverie. "Have a look."

Rey turned, startled by what she saw: the mirror across the Falcon's quarters, though tarnished and dingy, exposed far more than she had expected. A ghost of a scavenger stared back at her with hair pulled tightly into unmistakable three undeniable buns at the back of her head: the same woman she thought she left back on Ach-To. An abandoned young girl had once hoped she would be recognizable to those who might return for her, but had been replaced with matted, wet hair and forsaken hope.

The cave below the ancient temple island had revealed to her what she had most feared: she was alone.

You're nothing

A reassuring hand rested on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, prompting Rey to find its owner in the mirror. Leia returned Rey's glance with an affectionate smile – the kind that softly creased the corners of her eyes: a brief crack in the General's usual stoic composure. Unlike the frigid depths of the island, sudden warmth thrummed through her at what the reflection showed. She wasn't alone and, thanks to her mentor's tender attention, Rey's three buns had returned with new significance and reclaimed. She would no longer mourn that the cave failed to show her what she wanted to see but now understood it was what she needed to see.

No one else's journey would determine her story. She would build it herself.

What Leia said next both surged and broke Rey's heart. "I understand why Han liked you so much."

"I miss him." The words aren't said as much as they spill out of Rey. For a moment, she felt foolish. How could her grief even compare to that of his lover of a lifetime when she hardly knew him for a day? Maybe she mourned for what could have been.

However, there was not judgment in the reply - only fondness "I know."

Leia gingerly lifted herself from the bed and made her way to the quarters' entrance, pausing at the doorframe before turning to face Rey. "Chewbacca and I had an interesting conversation earlier," she began, her eyebrows drawn together in an inquisitive expression. "He mentioned your side adventure after departing from Ach-To before coming to our aide on Crait…" Rey squirmed where she sat. A part of her knew she was unable to avoid this forever. "So I have to ask: How is that a young Jedi is able defeat arguably one of the most powerful dark forces in modern time, while being heavily guarded no doubt, and manage to escape a crumbling Mega-Class Star Dreadnought with only a few cuts and a severed hilt of a lightsaber hilt to show for it?" Leia's inflection was curious, but not without a twinge of pride. "The galaxy is talking."

Rey remained tight lipped. She didn't give an answer but she need not to – she knew her face confessed it all. Leia's gaze was every bit as disarming as her son's.

"Well," A Skywalker trademark smirk tugged at the corners of Leia's lips. "'No one is ever really gone' - hmm." Her voice was barely audible, so much so that Rey wasn't sure if it was meant for her ears. "Even in death, my brother may have the pleasure of proving me wrong yet."

Rey's heart was in her throat now. She could feel its pressure, brimming at her lips and threatening to spill over as a confession – its ferocity made her sick. She needed to tell the General she had made personal contact with the Resistance's enemy, through circumstances they were both still struggling to understand. She had to tell her how she was such a fool and, despite her late brother's grave warnings, she went to him. He had betrayed her trust, only then to save her life to then betray her trust once more. Rey wanted to tell Leia that in spite her broken heart, she still sensed a glimmer of light in her son, but she was so afraid to hold onto it lest she lose herself in the process. How could the Resistance look to someone so effortlessly bullheaded yet so deluded at the same time?

"Leia, I –"

"Get some sleep, Rey," Leia swiftly interrupted, but her knowing expression read: A story for another time. "We have a lot of work left to do."

With one last wistful glance, the general promptly withdrew herself from the Falcon's quarters to retire for the evening and Rey, once again, was left alone with her thoughts. A flick of the light later, the ancient texts and hairbrush were all but abandoned as she slipped between the blankets atop of the master bed's lumpy mattress. The whirring of machinery of the freighter's usual antics was absent, leaving behind a silent void that was deafening. In spite of herself, her ears scanned the stillness, searching for the familiar low vibrating hum of a materializing connection. She wasn't sure if the deep exhale she released was from relief or deep disappointment.

However, she was unable to ruminate on it for long as the ruckus of the remaining Resistance clamoring up the Falcon's gangplank filled the corridors outside her door. She heard Poe shout something and Finn's boisterous laughter in response could be heard above the rest, followed by an unmistakable guttural growl of contentment. Had she ever heard Finn laugh like that - unrestrained, free from shackles and structure? These sounds were so foreign to her ears it was almost unnerving, yet, their rowdy entrance provided Rey with an unexpected comfort, quelling her aching art. Their bliss and camaraderie regardless of varying species and upbringings is what they were fighting for. It's what made this all worth it – Rey only hoped she could be worthy of their fight.

Rey brought her blanket up beneath her chin whilst burrowing the side of her face into the thin pillow. The white noise of her companions' – her new family - merriment and chatter lulled her to sleep.

I never felt so alone.

She wasn't alone – not anymore.

A/N: Ah, yes. There it is - a sweet mommy/daughter moment! Hoping to write out a companion piece soon of Leia/Luke about their adopted smol but we will see what time allows! Please drop a review and let me know what you think of this content xox

- Rose