a/n: anthology-esque as these are, they (as you'll see) are also sort of ... exposition-y, place-holders! that being said, again, this is set after 'Forward' (the Identity tag) and will tie into 'Salute' when I write it.

Girl Talk

"The Terrible Crossroad"

With impeccable posture that had been bred into her – by the same regiment of proud royal aunts who had schooled the Princess – throughout years of formal training, Winter knelt on a pillow on her living room floor, head held high, eyes cast straight ahead.

In front of her was a sleek, white chrome decorative table that held a fresh bottle of wine and two glasses, as well as a smattering of snacks that accented the particular brand of wine. Behind her stood Leia, wielding shears with finger loops of carved pearl, attentively tending to Winter's hair in a familiar ritual that echoed their long-faded teenage years.

Until they had reached the requisite ages of thirteen – the age when they also began to don white, and only white – either Queen Breha, one of the royal aunts of the blood, or a specially vetted and selected stylist, had tended to their hair. Upon entering their adolescence, they had undertaken the responsibility for each other, learning the intricacies of their culture's traditional hairstyles, and receiving power over their own tresses – so long as they refrained from cutting it, of course.

Hair was important on Alderaan; there was pride in how it looked and how it was cared for, and there was pride and intimate trust in who it was shared with and when. Leia's hair, in particular, had intricate rules that governed it, due to her position as heir to the throne – and the respect for her hair was something that, for the most part, Leia had held on to even when she had strayed away from some cultural adherences.

True, she had worn it down in public prior to her marriage to Han, but more than anything that was a symbolic stunt aimed at those who had tried to marry her off; she denoted her lack of availability by loosening her braids. She had cut it only to stake a claim on her own narrative, adding a unique measure to the mosaic of who she was, and how she became that woman – yet deep down, she girlishly valued the traditions regarding hair, and because of that, she had been quietly delighted to return to much of it with Winter back in her life.

Tonight, as she had many times throughout their sisterly upbringing, Leia trimmed and tended to the edges of Winter's hair, taking time to make it crisp and fresh, while livening it up with subtle layers at Winter's request – Winter, for all her interest in the dynamic and new, was still not amenable to cutting her hair short as Leia had.

Though of course, by standard human female definitions, the length Leia now maintained was not necessarily short.

"Is he really angry about it?" Winter ventured, keeping her head still to aid Leia's work, one of her light blonde brows ticking up with amusement.

Leia pursed her lips fondly.

"Not angry in any real way," she answered. "Mock angry. You know the kind."

"Mmhm. The way Tycho is 'angry' when I'm using all the hot water and he 'has' to share a 'fresher with me."

"That kind of angry precisely," Leia agreed, and shifted to the side, clipping up another section of Winter's sleek, icy hair. She laughed. "At least Tycho has the good manners to give an excuse. Han just barrels into the 'fresher with me. As if he got lost on the way to the kitchen."

Winter snorted, and Leia shook her head, lowering her gaze to study some split ends. Han had evidently forgotten that tonight was one of their standing girls' nights, and Leia had to admit that when she told him 'I have to go cut Winter's hair,' it sounded like a magnificently shallow cover-up for something else.

"Had Han planned something for tonight?" Winter asked.

"No," Leia murmured, tilting her head. "I think he's just forgotten what to do with himself when I'm not around," she reflected blithely.

"I wonder what Tycho does when I'm not around," Winter mused, starting to tilt her head. Leia pressed her fingertips firmly against Winter's temple, and guided her head back into position.

"I almost nicked your ear," Leia warned.

"I'm sorry."

Leia snapped the shears threateningly, and then went back to work, combing her fingers lightly through the next section.

"Tycho could use a haircut," Leia noted under her breath.

Winter let out a groan.

"I know. He won't shave it," she whined, her lashes fluttering. "He's in some sort of facial hair contest with his cadre and he thinks he has a chance of winning."

Leia sighed in sympathy.

"What can you do, though?" Winter asked mildly. "He likes how he looks with it, too," she added, "and I don't feel right nagging him to shave it – it's not as if I'll fall out of love with him for the sake of the damn beard."

Leia shrugged thoughtfully.

"I once told Han I liked one of his jackets and he wore it for the next two weeks," she said. "I wasn't even trying to influence him to my preference," she went on, "so, Tycho might very well scrap the beard when the contest is over if he knows you're more dewy-eyed over him clean shaven."

Winter sat quietly for a moment, contemplating that. Then –

"You were dewy-eyed over one of Han's jackets?"

"I didn't say that," Leia muttered.

"Yes, you did."

Leia narrowed her eyes at the back of Winter's head, and then shrugged.

"Well, quite frankly, Winter, Han wears the fuck out of some of his jackets."

Winter laughed, holding up her hand for Leia to pause so she could nod her head in appreciation of the statement. She curled her fingers in, extended the pause to reach out and take a sip of wine, and then settled back, letting Leia go on.

Leia clipped up another section of hair and nudged Winter's shoulder to adjust her angle, as Winter cleared her throat –

"There's a bit of a sticking point there, though," she mumbled, hesitating. "I don't feel comfortable asking him to concede to my preference because I refused to do that for him a few weeks ago and I was very emphatic," she explained, and arched a brow. "I may have referred to my body as my personal temple."

Leia laughed under her breath.

"And Tycho asked when Rouge Organa took over your mind?" she teased.

"Something like that," Winter muttered.

"What was the issue?" Leia asked.

She unclipped a layer of Winter's hair, brushed out some of it, and then began attending to the final section, her interest piqued. Tycho and Winter didn't fight very often; their relationship was mild, and harmonious, less tumultuous than Leia's had been in its early years.

Winter seemed to think about it for a minute, and then sighed, frowning thoughtfully.

"Hmm. He wanted – actually, let me start – has Han ever asked you to wax yourself bare?"

Leia sheared off a few dead ends, stopping to blink.

"Wax my – oh," she said, promptly retuning to her work. She shook her head, and then remembered Winter couldn't see her. "No," she answered simply.

"Has he ever…you know, made a comment about hair, between your legs?"

Leia parted her lips, pausing again.

"No," she said again, lengthening the syllable this time, as if she were unsure what Winter wanted to hear. She arched a brow dryly before carefully going back to the hair on Winter's head. "He's never seemed shocked it was there," she added, bemused.

Winter snorted at that, her brows going up.

"I should hope not," she said mildly. "And you've never waxed it bare of your own accord?"

Leia wrinkled her nose.

"For what purpose?"

"My sentiments exactly," Winter said, her shoulders relaxing in relief. She held out one hand. "I mean, it isn't as if I'm cultivating Kashyyyk between my legs, I've always been attentive to keeping it neat – "

"Naturally."

"—and I'm aware it's a norm on some planets to wax it, even laser it off – "

Leia stopped for a moment, resting her wrist on Winter's shoulder.

"Tycho's Alderaanian," she said. "He knows that's an uncommon practice among our women," she pointed out.

"Uncommon?" Winter quoted. "It's damn near rare. I've never known an Aldie woman to do it," she noted.

Leia nodded in agreement, lifting her hand slowly to return to her trimming.

"It looks girlish," she said uncomfortably. "I never understood the practice."

Winter seemed more relieved by the minute, bolstered by Leia's solidarity.

"Neither did I. Tycho – "

"He's Alderaanian," Leia reiterated, her brow furrowing again. "I can't imagine he'd demand that of you - did he spent all of his time on deployment watching Coruscanti blue smut – "

"It wasn't a demand," Winter said hastily. She chewed her lip for a moment. "It seems after he lost me, he stayed away from Alderaanian women. He stayed away from any significant attachments at all."

"Professionals?" Leia asked grimly.

"No," Winter said mildly. "Flings. Waxed flings, apparently."

Leia nodded. She shifted her weight, and then used her fingertips to tilt Winter's head forward just a little so she could start her finishing touches.

"He asked me if I'd consider trying it," Winter said. "He wasn't derogatory, and he made it clear he'd never expect me to keep doing it if I didn't like it, too," Winter trailed off. "I suppose I took more offense than I should have," she reflected.

"How so?" Leia asked levelly.

"I called him an immature man child and made him sleep on the sofa."

Leia winced.

Winter sensed the wince, and grimaced at herself.

"In my defense, I can't help that I felt criticized," she said firmly. "I've slept with men before who were absolute ingrates about body hair, and I was quick to show them how far that attitude would get them – I didn't expect Tycho to be into it."

"I can understand that," Leia murmured sincerely. She clicked her tongue. "I can't believe there are women all over the galaxy who have to roll the dice and see if they end up stripped bare with a man who thinks it's his right to have a woman waxed bare."

Winter held up one hand, indignant.

"I don't understand why he'd have any interest in having me look like a little girl," she said, exasperated. "That hair is my womanhood. It's there for a reason."

Leia finished up Winter's hair, and began combing through it with her fingers, and then a silver comb, making it shine, and massaging Winter's scalp lightly. She tilted her head back and forth, thinking, and then set her tools down, nudging Winter's back with her knee to signal she was free to move. Leia took her wine glass from the table, and collapsed back lazily on the sofa, hesitant.

"Mmmm," she murmured. "I don't know if it's that perverse," she said slowly, holding up her hand for Winter's patience as Winter took her wine, and her seat, and looked at her skeptically. "I know what you mean," she justified, pursing her lips, "that's always my first thought, too," she shrugged, "but it's so commonplace outside of Alderaan, and maybe it's just an aesthetic thing for some men. I don't think it's an automatic association with…any unnatural proclivities."

Winter sighed.

"No, I don't either," she agreed grudgingly. "That wasn't fair. And I don't think that's why Tycho asked, I don't," she agreed again, nodding. "He just got used to it on the women he was sleeping with – but then I get caught in this loop of, well, why are they doing it? Who decided that was the sexy trend, that ought to be the norm? Are all of these women waxing bare because they prefer it, or because it's ingrained in the greater majority of society that not waxing is ugly, and unsatisfying to men?"

Winter arched her brows.

"Tycho merely asked me if I'd try it and I lost my mind and unloaded an Alderaanian feminist tirade on him," she hissed, incredulous – then she laughed a little, and flushed.

She shook her head.

"I mean, what would you do if Han asked you to just," Winter snapped, holding her wine glass out, "wax it all off?"

"Tell him that he knows damn well long hair is a staple of my culture and then make him braid it with his tongue," Leia retorted, deadpan.

Winter arched a brow at her, and sat back, shaking her head with a wry grin and taking a long sip of wine. Leia smiled at her, leaning back against the armrest.

"I don't think it would cross Han's mind to ask," Leia said, offering a less dramatic answer. She thought about it for a moment longer, her brow furrowing a little. "Han's…never said anything negative about my body," she said slowly, wracking her brain for any incident. "If there's anything he doesn't care for, he doesn't comment on it," she said. "He's more apt to be vocal about what he likes."

Leia took a sip of her wine.

"Annoyingly vocal."

"Did you just whine about your husband's constant flattery of you?"

"Well, sometimes I'm trying to get work done and Han's gotten it into his head that he's very attracted to the way I hold a stylus, and the next thing I know I've got an unfinished speech and – "

"A climax? Keep complaining, Leia."

Leia smirked.

"I have told him I don't particularly care for facial hair," she said, "though Han's never been one to grow beards anyway, so it's not the same predicament," she said logically.

They were both silent for a moment, and then Winter stretched one of her hands out, holding the palm up.

"I just don't want to do it," she said, "wax. So I feel like I can't tell Tycho to shave his beard for me, not if my preference is an encroachment on his autonomy."

"You're right," Leia said simply.

Winter glared at her.

"Feel free to offer some advice, some sage council, some – "

"He's just not going to get what he wants in this case," Leia said flatly. "There will be another time where you don't get what you want in the relationship," she offered. "But you'll be happier, because you didn't concede on this point, and this point means something to you. There's no harm in that."

Winter sighs.

"It seems incongruous. Incomplete."

Leia sighed, tapping her index finger against her glass.

"That's how it goes," she murmured.

Winter lifted her hand and ran it back through her hair.

"Would you ever do it?" she asked. "If Han asked you. If he said he just wanted to try it with you."

Leia chewed on her lip, wary. She didn't like the idea. Like Winter, she'd never had any desire to engage in such a practice, and it was a practice outside the norms of her upbringing.

"I don't know," she said flatly. "Unlikely," she decided. "I don't think he'd ask," she added honestly. "I'm sure Han's slept with women of both persuasions and women on a gradient in between and he's shown no aversion to the state I keep myself in," Leia shrugged. "I would think because he's a grown man and he knows better than to be squeamish about a little hair."

Winter rested her head on her palm.

"The first time he saw you naked," she asked quietly. "Were you apprehensive he'd be put off because you don't wax?"

Leia laughed hoarsely.

"I didn't give it a second thought," she said. She cocked an eyebrow thoughtfully. "There was a lot going on," she murmured hesitantly. "I already knew he was attracted to me. I thought he might think I was too skinny. But that…no, didn't cross my mind."

Winter nodded.

"That's the feeling I like, that I want my daughters to have, if I have daughters," she said. "I don't want them taking their clothes off and being wary that the man they're with – if they're with a man – will act like their body hair is an aberration. Stripping down with confidence and owning the way my body naturally is was one of the most powerful things I learned from matriarchal culture and," Winter paused, sighed, "for a split second, Tycho took that away from me."

Her brow furrowed.

"But I know he didn't mean that," she added slowly. She frowned, and looked up again. "I think I just wanted to have a sounding board for all of this," she admitted.

Leia nodded. She pointed to herself.

"Board here," she offered.

"Are you tired of my sounding yet?" Winter retorted, sipping her wine.

Leia grinned.

"Not on your life."

Winter compressed her lips, running her hand through her hair again.

"I might do it. I don't fucking know," she swore breezily. "I'm adventurous, right? That's my thing."

Leia made a noncommittal noise.

"What's that noise?" Winter demanded.

Leia lifted her nose loftily.

"Are you the adventurous one?" she teased. "I do believe that last we checked, I have checked a box you haven't," she noted. "Unless Mr. Celchu has been granted the privilege of taking you from behind?"

She accented the word the same way Winter had so scandalously done during one of their precious conversations about the act.

Winter glared at her, affronted.

"No, he has not," she began, indignant.

"The title belongs to me, then," Leia bragged.

Winter lurched forward.

"You know, Your Highness, I may not sacrifice my principles for Tycho's pleasure, but I will smash them to pieces to one-up you!"

"I would expect no less," Leia snickered.

Winter arched a brow though, her eyes lighting up.

"There's an idea," she said smugly, winking at Leia. "I could offer him that in exchange for him never bringing up the waxing again."

Winter shook his head incredulously.

"What has my life come to – a bald pussy or a backdoor entry? This is a monumentally terrible crossroad - !" she shrieked, and Leia brought up her hand to cover her mouth, trying to avoid spitting wine all over the place at Winter's characteristic vulgarity. "Is this marriage, Leia? Is it?"

Struggling to quell her laughter, Leia was finally able to swallow, and she rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath, and lifting her shoulders carelessly.

"Winter, I've done things solely for Han's pleasure before, and he's done things for mine, and sometimes in the middle of all that we both get something incredible out of it we never expected," she said honestly. "Values aren't black and white issues, and you aren't betraying the sisterhood if you try something with your husband in the privacy of your home!"

Winter sighed, gritting her teeth good-naturedly.

"Yes. Okay. I know that," she said firmly. "Perhaps I wanted permission granted from my sovereign," she said, feigning a bow.

Leia held up her wine glass as if it were a ceremonial sword.

"Ask it of me," she said sternly.

"Can I – maybe, I haven't decided yet – wax my – "

"Don't say that word, Winter – "

"—my, um, nether regions – "

"That's almost worse."

"—at my husband's request, without betraying the matriarchy?"

Leia brought her wine glass down and gently tapped it on Winter's shoulder.

"You may."

Winter feigned a bow again, and then straightened up.

"Not going to, though," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Leia laughed.

"Wax a little design into it as a compromise," she suggested flippantly.

"The emblem of the rebel alliance?" Winter joked.

Both women dissolved into laughter, and Winter turned, reaching out to retrieve the bottle of wine to offer them both a refill. Sighing happily, she shook her head, appreciating Leia's company. Her hair swing over her shoulder and she glanced at it before shaking it back.

"Thanks for trimming that – I love the way the ends feel after a cut," she said, handing Leia the wine and watching her top off. She tilted her head. "Oh, you – I just realized you didn't demure on the wine tonight," she said.

Leia nodded, refilling only a little and setting the bottle aside.

"Started bleeding yesterday," she said mildly. "No harm."

"Ah," Winter breathed, nodding in understanding. Leia shrugged, pressing the glass against her lips. "It – happened so fast last time, yes?" Winter asked hesitantly.

Leia nodded, the bridge of her nose twitching a little.

"Scary fast," she said softly.

"Is it bothering you?" Winter asked. "You were so focused on clean living and eschewing wine regardless – "

"Mm, no," Leia answered, swift and certain. "There's a little bit of a thrill in a life without contraception, and there's no reason to stress, so I've loosened up deliberately. It'll happen when it happens," she said, reflecting only briefly on hers and Han's renewed attempts at having a baby. "Han and I are in a good place. And, ah," Leia let out a breath, shaking her head, "at this point, what with us hoping to move soon, I'd rather not get pregnant until we're settled."

Winter perked up, keying in on that.

"That's right, the move! Leia! We should have done tonight at your place, a sort of – last hurrah," she protested, gesturing around her own apartment.

"My place is a wreck," Leia said dryly. "I am in a pre-moving frenzy of sorting things and wondering where I acquired things and reminiscing over things I found in storage corners," she listed. "And then Han throws his shoes and shirts into boxes that are for packing and I gripe at him about it and then somehow we end up on the floor and I'm wearing the shirt he threw in a packing box – "

She broke off, both of them laughing, and Winter rolled her eyes at the romance of it.

"You settled on a new place, then? The one you mentioned a month ago? You closed?" she prompted.

Leia lifted her hand.

"Decided on it," she said, amending Winter's question: "Closed? Not entirely. Han is still haggling over the price – formalities aside, it's ours."

Winter arched a brow.

"Why is he haggling?" she asked. "He knows you're rich enough to buy all of Coruscant, right? You're richer than most crime syndicates put together. You're -"

"I know I'm rich, Winter."

"My question stands."

Leia smirked a little.

"He likes to haggle," she said. She snorted wryly. "It gives him a hard on."

Winter burst out laughing.

"Hard on? Are we saying that now? Hard on?"

Leia shrugged, blushing. She grinned.

"I told him if he really succeeded in bartering a significant price change on a place in the conservation sector, I'd take off work for a week – radio silence included – and go away with him."

Winter whistled.

"The kind of prize he'll work his ass off for," she noted approvingly.

"He likes to be challenged," Leia said. "He likes having me to himself, too."

"More time to knock you up."

"Yes," Leia said, with a short laugh.

Winter sat back and folded her arms, balancing her wine against her forearm. She furrowed her brow thoughtfully, tilting her head.

"I've been thinking about that lately, having a baby. I can't decide if I – we – ought to go ahead and have one ourselves. Tycho and I."

Leia was silent, unsure what Winter was asking.

"You think I should?" Winter asked, more blunt.

Leia gave her an alarmed look.

"There is no possible way I can answer that for you."

Winter shrugged, nodding.

"I – well, I want my kids to grow up with yours," she said earnestly. "I don't know if it feels right right now, but I have no reservations about having kids, I want them, so," she trailed off.

Leia shook her head emphatically.

"It never feels set-in-stone, inarguably, perfectly like the right time, but don't rush," she said earnestly. "We don't have to have babies at the same time for them to grow up together. You and Tycho just got married. Don't rush," she said again, "don't rush any of it."

Winter nodded thoughtfully. She fell silent, and touched her hair again, admiring Leia's work, soothed by the freshness of it. Still pensive, she looked up, her eyes scaling the walls of her home, up to the second level, oval loft that was part of the high vaulted living room.

"Your new apartment is more like this, yes?" she asked, lowering her gaze slowly. "Though with a greenhouse room?"

Leia nodded, her lips pursed lightly. She had specifically sought a place with one of Coruscant's famed greenhouse rooms, the planet's indoor, botanical wonderland of an answer to the lack of yards and parks available on a world covered and polluted by cities.

"It is similar to this in that it has two levels," Leia said, "though it's less post-modern."

"Is it strange to move?" Winter asked quietly.

"I thought it might feel strange," Leia said. "That apartment was the first place that was mine, and at the same time, the first place that was ours," she said. "It feels right to move on, though," she said. "It was a place of healing and transition that…is complete now."

Winter nodded.

"There's a lot of – affirmative charging forward, this year," she said, a little dreamily. "The opening of the Haven really set that in motion, for me. I know it was hard for you, but – "

"It was a turning point," Leia agreed. She was silent for a moment. "My miscarriage was still part of the…venom, of the past," she closed her eyes briefly, taking a sip of wine. "This whole year has just been – about, um, not living anchored to the trauma of the war."

Winter smiled softly, her eyes on Leia's intently.

"That's lovely."

"It has been," Leia agreed quietly – sincerely. "I feel like – Han's retirement will mark the end of an era, in a way. That era."

"Speaking of that, are they going to subject him to a Gala?" Winter snorted.

"In theory," Leia said, a somewhat impish smile touching her lips. "I have intentions to influence it so that it is more…what Han would enjoy. Without irritating elite feelings, of course."

Winter inclined her head in agreement.

The two women sat in silence for a moment, basking in the ease of each other's company. Winter shifted, setting aside her wine glass for a moment to play with her hair, and Leia indulged in her wine a little more than usual, content with the state of her affairs for the moment.

"Where might you and Han go, if he wins his haggling game?" Winter asked breezily, yawning mid-sentence, her words muffled as she talked through it.

Leia let her head fall back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. She shrugged – the obvious answer was their chalet on Corellia, but perhaps they'd venture somewhere different. She didn't dwell on it – she decided she and Winter had talked enough men and marriages for the evening.

Instead, she proposed a new topic –

"What do we think about this new black lipstick trend?"

i'm guessing black lipstick gets a solid 'no' from the viceroy.

- alexandra