It started with pregnancy dreams. Leia had heard from the few people she knew who had given birth that they weren't a myth — having vivid and bizarre dreams was a common side effect of growing a human. But the dreams she'd had recounted to her had been mostly strange and amusing, not frightening. Leia's vacillated wildly between the two categories or, even more horrifyingly at times, combined the amusing with the frightening in a confusing swirl of color and action that left her feeling exhausted and uneasy the entire day after.
Han was on a relatively short trip — only three nights without him — but his absence from the apartment apparently affected Leia and her dreams on some deep level. She kept dreaming of the carbon freezing chamber, of the months spent without knowing Han's whereabouts or whether he was even alive, of the frantic and frightening hours between his release from carbonite and their escape from Jabba's capture. It all had a surreal quality to it that felt loud and bright and slippery all at once. Leia had never felt less rested after a few hours of sleep in her life.
After two nights in a row of being terrorized by chaotic and disturbing memories of Jabba's palace the fear and pain that surrounded the entire situation, Leia decided she was on a sleep strike until further notice. She managed to avoid sleep for exactly one night before Han came home. He figured out what was going on pretty quickly, and though she occasionally liked to tease him by suggesting his instincts were an indication of Force sensitivity, in this case, she knew that he just knew her that well.
Just like Echo Base, Leia mused, recalling the short period of time spent on Hoth. The cold back then had made her nightmares worse, and she'd repeatedly pushed the limits of how many consecutive hours a person could stay awake and still work effectively. Both Han and Chewie — but mostly Han — had gotten onto her repeatedly for it, and both were able to spot a sleep-deprived Leia from a klick away. Luke had to rely on the Force and feelings; Han could take one look at his wife and guess with alarming accuracy how much sleep she'd gotten. He was rarely off by an hour.
The night after he'd returned from his trip, he managed to at least coax her into laying in bed, though Leia made it clear that she had plans to read and work through the night. Han protested briefly before hitting below the belt and bringing the baby into it. "They need sleep," he said nodding toward her belly.
"'They'?" she asked. "Don't tell me we're having twins now."
Han's eyes widened as if her just saying the words might cause the number of beings in her womb to spontaneously double. "No. No, we just don't know what they are yet and 'it' sounds wrong."
A smile played on Leia's lips. "I think they can get sleep no matter what I'm doing, hotshot."
He shook his head solemnly. "They get extra good sleep when you're sleepin'. Pretty sure I read that somewhere. If you don't sleep, they come out all sleepy and cranky."
Leia laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I hate to break it to you, but I pretty certain our infant child is going to be sleepy and cranky no matter what."
Han ignored her logic and moved closer to her stomach. He kissed the small bump that had made its debut appearance during the time he'd been gone before cupping his hand around the side of his mouth and stage whispering conspiratorially. "Look, kid, we're gonna hafta work together on this one. If I tell you a bedtime story, can you hold off on the scary dreams?"
Leia laughed loudly when he pressed his ear to her stomach as if listening for a response. Han held up finger and shushed her.
"They're considering my proposal." He paused to shake his head slightly.
"Never take the first offer," Leia said, tilting her chin down slightly to aim her instructions vaguely toward her belly. "Always counter. Even against your father." She paused, smiling mischievously. "Especially against your father."
Han scowled in mock irritation and lifted his head to again speak to her belly. "You drive a hard bargain, but I can make that work." He looked at Leia. "They want me to do all the voices during the bedtime story."
She couldn't stifle her giggle. "Oh, really?"
"A deal's a deal."
Leia forced a solemn expression and nodded. "Of course."
Han went quiet for what felt like several minutes, staring at her stomach with a furrowed brow, clearly deep in thought. Leia poked his shoulder and he refocused his gaze on her face. "Yes, Princess?"
She grinned and bit her lip. "We're waiting," she said, glancing to where she imagined their baby to be.
"I'm thinkin'," Han said, reaching for her hand absently. Leia smiled and laced her fingers through his.
"You never have trouble coming up with a story."
"I got plenty of stories," he said. "Not a lot that I'd tell a kid, though. They're kinda scary."
"Children's stories are all sort of creepy," Leia said. "They just get dressed up with cute pictures and magic and funny voices so the kids don't notice."
Han raised his brows. "Yeah?"
She shrugged. "All the stories I heard growing up were about witches kidnapping orphans and krayt dragons being killed for their eggs." She paused in thought. "Didn't hear a lot of the witches-kidnapping-orphans stories after that time I was kidnapped, though. I would have been fine with them, but apparently they were a sore spot for every adult and droid in my life."
"Can't imagine why," Han muttered. "I got it." He turned his attention back to Leia's baby bump and cleared his throat. "Okay, kid, a long time ago, there was this princess—"
"If this is going anywhere near where I think it's going, I'd like to request an amendment to the a long time ago," Leia said flatly. "I'm still in my twenties."
Han looked at her and shook his head, tsking. "You aren't the only princess in the galaxy, you know. I could be tellin' a story about any real or made-up princess and you just assume—"
Leia grimaced, feeling sheepish. "Sorry."
Han cleared his throat dramatically again. "As I was sayin': this is a story about a princess who rescued some guy from a giant desert slug—"
Leia rolled her eyes and tilted her head back against her pillows, feigning annoyance. Han glanced at her briefly to make sure she didn't mean it and, as soon as she smiled at him, quickly continued his highly sanitized, cartoonish rendition of his rescue from Jabba's palace. It hit all the high points, but in this version, the princess was dressed as a clown to perform for the slug, a young wizard threatened the slug with a lifetime of stale ration bars as opposed to death, and the little astromech droid served fizzy juices on the barge rather than spiced-infused liquor.
As negotiated, he did all the voices, and, while Leia felt Han's impression of the nameless princess could use some work and the voice he gave some guy was a bit of a reach, she had to admit, his desert slug impersonation was spot-on.
"When the wizard was done givin' the longest speech of all time, the desert slug said, 'Silence, you fools! Time for you to die!'" Han clapped his hands softly on either side of Leia's belly as if he were covering invisible ears. "Do beings die in kids' stories?" he said in a low voice.
Leia pursed her lips, not wanting to chance any of her amusement with his antics being interpreted as her laughing at his ignorance. "Surprisingly often," she said. "My favorite tale when I was quite small ended with a sinister wolf cat being baked into a pie."
He gaped at her briefly before shaking his head. "You need to talk to someone about the stories they were tellin' you as a kid."
Leia laughed. "I seemed to turn out all right."
"More'n all right," he agreed, kissing her hand.
Newly encouraged by his wife's relative normalcy despite the apparent horrors she'd been exposed to via bedtime story, Han continued with vague descriptions of action he hadn't actually been able to see and additional, completely fabricated heroics on the part of some guy.
"—and, while everyone was lookin' at the guy and the wizard, the princess went all sneaky-like and sprinkled salt on the slug—"
Leia sat forward, nudging Han's shoulder to get his attention, "Wait, would that have worked?"
Han shook his head. "Nah, it was just a rumor. People tried it all the time, though."
The thought of covert assassins sneaking up on Jabba with a sprinkling of salt to throw at him tickled her to no end. Leia couldn't help but giggle as Han continued.
Once he wrapped his story up, he gave her belly one last kiss before settling into bed, and kissing Leia goodnight. The plan — or Leia's plan — had involved her staying up, but between the comforting presence of her husband dispelling some of her anxiety and the fact that she'd laughed herself breathless only moments before, she felt an easy sort of exhaustion settle over her soon after Han turned his bedside light off. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.
The dream began, like so many of hers did, with a memory: her limited field of vision in Boushh's helmet, the eerie darkness of the corridors in Jabba's palace, the kriffing wind chimes that she'd run into at the entrance of the throne room, her slapdash release of Han from the carbonite slab on the wall, Jabba's horrible laugh. And then, it all devolved into an explosion of vivid hues, clown costumes, and handfuls of colorful salt thrown in the air like confetti. When morning rolled around, Leia couldn't say for sure that she was fully rested, but she hadn't woken herself or Han by screaming or whimpering or reacting in any way to what went on while she slept; she'd just…woken up, no terrifying inciting event necessary.
She wasn't ready to give Han's bedtime story all the credit (though he was certainly ready to take it). After all, there had been plenty of nightmare-free nights for Leia. But…she had to admit, she couldn't recall ever having a dream start as a nightmare and end as something else entirely.
"I think I need more practice," Han said the next night, shortly after Leia slid under the sheets on their bed.
She looked up from the novel she'd opened on her datapad with an arched brow. "What sort of practice?"
"Tellin' stories for kids. I know my story last night practically worked a miracle, keeping your nightmares away—"
"There's no way to prove that."
"—but I can't just tell the same story over and over. I need to practice comin' up with new ones."
"Kids like the same stories over and over," Leia said, barely skimming the text in front of her. Her heart wasn't in the argument; she'd liked his bedtime story whether it had changed the trajectory of her dream or not. But he was far too pleased with himself for her to let him jump right in with another one without a little sparring.
Han studied her for a moment before climbing into bed. "You're arguing just to argue."
Leia chuckled and set her datapad on her bedside table, wrapping her arms around his solid torso and kissing him. She tucked her head under his chin. "Yeah, kids get bored all the time. I think." She paused. "I got bored all the time anyway."
"You're antsy by nature."
Leia wrinkled her nose good-naturedly, her hand slowly moving to rest on her stomach. "Well, they're half me and half you, so chances are they'll be…"
"Antsy on antsy," Han supplied before pressing his lips to the top of her head.
Leia remained quiet for a moment, mind entirely made up, but enjoying the closeness with Han. It wouldn't be just the two of them much longer and she knew she'd miss the quiet moments.
Though the raucous moments have their merit, she mused, recalling their laughter from the night prior. Leia sighed dramatically, a smile on her lips. "Okay, hotshot, let's hear what you've got for the next story."
Han sat up a little too enthusiastically, nearly launching Leia forward. "Oh, I've got a good one," he said, settling in close to her belly and touching the small bump reverently. "All right, kid, do you wanna hear a story about the most awkward family lunch in the history of the galaxy?"