a/n: if 'Salute' was the end, this is the closure. i have known that this (roughly, with some minor tweaks, and timeline adjusting) is how we 'end' so to speak since i wrote The Naberries. it's been a long time coming, and i'm beyond delighted to share - knowing, of course, that this sort of thing usually is either loved, or hated, when so many people have their own desires/ideas about what should happen. i hope that this is loved, but no matter what - thank you immensely for the support while i wrote this universe, and thank you so much for the eager following. there's only fun left to do now - and i do hope you all stick around for the anthologies and one-shots that will come to you as they come to me.

now, for one final time, a timeline refresher:

ANH (O ABY), ESB (3 ABY), ROTJ (4 ABY), Identity began in 4 ABY (prologue - 2 Months post Battle of Endor), spanned 5 ABY, and ended with the wedding in 6 ABY. The Naberries and Backlash covered 6 ABY. Casualty (and Recovery) covered 7 ABY, and ended with the Haven opening during New Year's Festival Week, 8 ABY. Forward bridges further into 8 ABY, which then leads into Salute, which took place mid-to-late 8 ABY. Which brings us here, to a significant time jump meant to answer many questions with happy answers:

this story 'verse will always remain au.

Identity Epilogue

"Legacy"

15 ABY

The sun was setting over Coruscant, and on a smoky, humid summer evening, Leia made her way through the ferocious planetary traffic, her thoughts idling as she piloted the familiar path to their home in the Conservation district.

The air was thick with its usual pungent smog, something she had never quite gotten used to. Despite the many years now that she had called Coruscant home, there was always a part of her that wrinkled her nose just slightly, and compressed her lips into the barest grimace, when she took a deep breath and was confronted with the toxic pollutants of the city planet instead of the fragrant, crisp air that had beautifully defined Alderaan.

She still ached for the comfort and peace of her extinct home world. It was an ever-present, quietly painful nostalgia that she carried with her in all aspects of her life - that ache though, it was a natural thing, a heartbreak that would never subside, and even during moments when her sole focus was work with the Alderaanian Council or with the Yavin Haven, she found less and less reason to dwell on the sorrow of it all. The past was immutable. She had learned that many times over, and come to respect it. She had first found equilibrium, a way to sustain herself, as a displaced princess of a lost world, and as the years went on and spirited her further and further away from that defining moment of loss, against unbelievable odds she'd found inspiration, optimism, hope, belonging, family -

Calling Coruscant home might have once seemed an undesirable, nonsensical thought, and yet it was reality now. Even so - home was more so than ever about who she shared it with, rather than physical roots, and in the abstract, comforting sense, she had homes all over - her work, and the nucleus of her life, on Coruscant; her familial bonds on Naboo, the connection to her culture and her salvaged people on Yavin, the beloved privacy and freedom of Corellia - home was so many places now that it overwhelmed her, and she was so grateful for that when she thought of a time when she'd feared she'd never again feel safe and sound, or connected to the galaxy she had fought to save.

Traffic ebbed and flowed, cramming into standstill bottlenecks and frustrated jams, and then loosening unpredictably. More than one pilot gave a startled double take at a glimpse of the New Republic's Chief of State alone, flying herself home in a neat, well-kept yet hardly luxurious personal speeder. A small smile touched her lips; it was an odd sight. She rarely transported herself anywhere these days, as a security detail was nearly always attending to her movements, and for private excursions, she preferred Han's piloting. When she did fly alone, it was usually after dark and low-profile, so she wouldn't draw unwanted attention. Political unrest was at an all-time low, and she was generally supported and well-liked, but in a galaxy so vast credible threats were an endless concern. Han hated when she did it - an assassination attempt shortly after she'd taken Mon Mothma's position had shaken him badly, despite no harm actually coming to her. Her head of security had reluctantly yielded to Leia's intentions tonight, if only because there were no credible threats against her, and Leia was leaving her office later than usual, after the evening Media blitz around government buildings had subsided.

Once in a while, she needed the simple freedom of flying herself home in a little solitary jaunt. She could clear her head, reflect, shed her political persona before she got home, instead of clinging to it in the back of a motorcade, working up until the doors closed and her detail left her at the door of the apartment - on those days, she often needed some time to decompress when she walked in the door, and that was not always possible.

The rushing wind snagged at her hair, but for the most part, her braids held, and she swerved around a few taxis that lagged in the flow of traffic, distracted by Holo advertisements or their blinking comlinks. Her commute was not quite long, but not short, either; she was perfectly willing to endure a longer trip for the comforts of living further out from the pulsing core of the city. She adjusted her feet and dropped the speeder's elevation, diverting from main traffic to drift to her designated path back to the complex.

Soft, earnest excitement started to course through her, as it always did at the end of a long day. Tonight more so than usual she indulged in giddiness, as her arrival home tonight precipitated a much needed vacation that would begin tomorrow, when the Falcon whisked them all off to Naboo for the opening of Luke's magnum opus, and then later on to Corellia, for all kinds of personal indulgence and radio silence from politics barring any true emergency.

As far as her position went, the day had been uneventful; when she had unexpectedly assumed the position of Chief of State when Mon Mothma stepped down to seek treatment for an illness, she had been eager for the challenge, but daunted by the prospect. The sequence of events that landed her here had been as whirlwind and unpredictable as much of her involvement in the Rebellion itself had been. When Mon's Vice Chief had been removed from office in the aftermath of a gruesome corruption scandal, Leia had put in a bid for the position during the emergency election and won. Her actions had been strategic in testing the waters for a possible Chief-of-State run in the future - further down the line, or so she planned. Mon's diagnosis had gone from mild to worrisome quickly, and she'd made the difficult decision to retire from public service, handing the reins to Leia.

It was not the first abrupt turn of events that Leia had handled, and she'd taken those reins from Mon with pride and determination, and a fair amount of nerves and personal strain, as at the time she'd had a relatively new baby at home - a baby who had also not been entirely factored in to her plans. She had expected not to run for Chief of State proper for another few election cycles, but she knew that Mon's qualms would be soothed if her life's work was in capable hands.

If it hadn't been for Han - and the rest of her close knit family, but Han deserved the most credit - Leia didn't know how she would have managed it all. Han, who had just gotten back into the swing of contracting and working and living an adult life separate from his children, had put that on hold and stopped taking contracts again. Han, who had never once accused her of failing to balance everything, who had never made her feel like a bad mother or a distant wife - conventional wisdom always seemed to say that as marriages went on, spouses took each other for granted, got bored, searched for fulfillment elsewhere - not her marriage. She expressed doubt, once, about becoming Chief of State before anyone was ready for it, when the children were so little still and she was barely recovering from the chaos of the youngest, and Han had just told her she had to, she had to do it -Leia, what we fought for is so much more important to me now,he said, pointing at the little ones playing on the floor, you're the only person I trust with the world they're going to grow up in.

Now, a year after that tumultuous upheaval, routines had settled, life was what it was - and strangely, she was less stressed and bogged down in the office as Chief of State than she ever had been as Ambassador at-Large, or as Vice Chief. She was almost able to liken herself to a figurehead again - like she had been as Alderaan's Princess. She had more control over her schedule, and a powerful ability to delegate - not to mention charisma and trust from many that made things easier for her, in many ways. She made it a point to be home for dinner every night; tonight was an aberration in that she had stayed quite late just to ensure everything was neatly organized and in place for her designated Vice Chief to handle things while she was on her brief sabbatical.

She breathed easy, with Tavska still faithfully in command of her office and more than capable of directing things and aiding the acting Chief. She was ravenous for the upcoming downtime, looking forward to it with uninhibited relief. It was deserved, and it was shaping up to be glorious - and she always did love celebrating Luke's accomplishments, especially knowing this Temple on Naboo marked a culmination of his research and soul-searching, and the beginning of his real life's work.

It would be a welcome affair indeed to have all of them, friends and extended family, together on one planet with ample time to spend together. Leia hadn't seen many of the Naberries in over a year now, and both Luke and Mara had exclusively been on Naboo for the past three months. Beyond that loomed the prospect of Corellia, and the chalet in the mountains was paradise in the summer season, especially if they could make it down to the ocean and introduce the baby to the beach.

She supposed he wasn't really a baby anymore, but she also supposed she'd be referring to him as the baby for the rest of his life

She shook her head a little and blinked, making a sharp directional adjustment at the last minute to avoid missing her turn and losing her way home. Han would never let her hear the end of it -You flew yourself and got lost? She compressed her lips into a grin, dropping elevation some more to drift up to the gated community and present her iris and fingerprint for entry into the property. Then it was into the hangar, where she settled the speeder next to various other ships she and Han owned, including a trainer that Leia had told him ten times was not appropriate for a five-year-old -

Han had grown more confident in their children's durability than she had, though. His first year or so as a father had been anxious and protective, but as the years went on, he shook off the nerves and gained confidence. She had plenty of confidence, too, and was by no means a panicky or coddling mother, but Han was present for more routine scrapes and bumps than she was, and more use to it. He was particularly clever at immediately deciding who might be melodramatically milking an injury for the sake of attention.

The Falcon's ramp was down. Their part of the hangar was a private enclosure, and Leia peeked up the ramp before she headed to the lift, thinking Chewbacca might be in there. No sign of him, but she did notice the scent of fresh engine oil, and assumed one of them - Han or Chewbacca - had been down here earlier to ensure the ship was prepped for the trip tomorrow.

Chewbacca would make his own separate trip to see his family, and Han and Leia would stop by Kashyyyk before their return to Coruscant to pick him up and spend some time with Malla and Lumpy.

The lift from the hangar up to the penthouse was not particularly long, despite the many stories she traveled. Lightening speed without a bit of a shudder was the beauty of this elevator, and as Leia keyed her iris for the top floor and then selected the appropriate button – access was strictly controlled to all residences in this building – she started to smile, already envisioning walking in the door.

No matter what successes she experienced in galactic politics, or what achievements she saw take place, the best part of her day remained coming home, and she was careful to make sure she never lost that feeling. Critical treaty negotiations completed and shaken on came close to the way she felt when she opened the door to her family – but only close; never eclipsed it.

She palmed the front door and was immediately greeted with noise, with the aroma of something spicy that had been cooked for dinner – and with Zozy, laying in wait at the entrance, older and calmer now, but doggedly perched just inside, waiting for her to come home.

When he saw her, he chirped in relief, and swished his tail, and Leia felt a twinge amusement – the poor dear had no doubt interpreted her unusual tardiness as a danger, and she clicked her tongue at him softly for comfort, pausing to stroke his snout.

The Holo was on; she could hear it droning faintly as she rounded the corner; someone's crying was drowning it out – Max, she identified immediately, as she immersed herself in her senses, now that she was home, and settled comfortably into her connections with the Force.

She stepped into the sitting room, and blinked in the bright sunlight – Han had both the balcony doors open, and the sun was still sinking, flooding the open room in burnt orange and warm air. He sat on the floor, his back against the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, rocking Max in a lazy cradle.

Noura sat behind him, combing her hands through his hair and humming. She appeared to be trying to braid, though she had little comprehension of how to do so, and Jaina, Jaina was –

"Jaina, if you fall off that balcony, I'm gonna get real mad," Han threatened mildly, without turning his head to look.

Leia lifted her chin, poised on the brink of the room, silent, before she broke into their routine.

"'M not gonna fall, Daddy," Jaina's voice drifted in from the balcony. "I just like looking down!"

Leia could see her now, skipping around the crescent shape of the balcony, hugging her small arm around the columns and pausing to glance down into the courtyard. It would be a real accomplishment for her to actually fall; the slits between columns were close enough together that Jaina would have to doggedly squeeze and wriggle to get between them, and yet she was adventurous to a fault – so much like her father –

Noura looked up and lifted her hands out of Han's hair pleasantly.

"Mama," she announced, waving happily.

Han turned his head. Leia beamed and waved back at Noura. Han perked up, sitting forward and shifting Max – he was fussing stubbornly, content to lay in Han's arms and whine. Leia knew if he was being held for comfort, Han must have done everything under the sun to assess what was wrong and tend to it, ultimately coming to the conclusion –

"He wants you," Han said, bracing one arm on the floor and standing. He balanced Max in one arm, and stepped forward, unfazed by the baby's crying – Han had always been more comfortable with the babies crying than she had. Of course, it didn't physically hurt him – though she handled that better as she got more experience – but he was good about remaining calm and shrugging off the anxiety; his philosophy was if they were fed, dry, well-rested, warm, comfortable, and still kept crying, he'd just hold them until they stopped.

Leia pursed her lips and took Max from him, murmuring to him softly as she settled him on her hip. He was such a sweet baby, a little clingier than the girls had been, but then, Leia clung to him, too, because he was her last, and she occasionally felt some guilt for weaning him and leaving him much sooner than the other two.

"Here I am," Leia said softly, brushing his hair back gently. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Max reached up to clutch at her hair, sniffling, and quietly calming down.

Jaina skipped in from the balcony, stopping in the threshold and peering at them. She hung out by the door for a moment, and then came dashing in, crawling up on the sofa next to Noura and leaning back, grinning. She kicked her feet, her eyes wide with excitement.

"No more sleeps to Naboo!" she said.

Han turned and gave her a look.

"We're leaving in the morning," he reminded her. "You still have to go to bed tonight."

Jaina looked back at him wickedly, smirking.

"No more sleeps!"

Han raised his eyebrows and turned back to Leia, silently communicating with her – if Jaina had gotten it into her head to stay up as late as she could, they might be in for it –

Leia laughed quietly, letting out a breath. She shrugged, and kept her voice low.

"If we let them tire themselves out tonight, maybe they'll sleep the whole flight," she whispered.

"There's an idea," Han said.

He reached out to place his hand on the back of Max's head, and leaned forward to kiss her, lingering to rest his forehead against hers. She reached out to squeeze his upper arm tightly.

"How was your day?" she asked quietly. "Was he like this all day?"

Han shook his head, pulling back. He folded his arms.

"Nah," he said, "just a little fussy for the last hour." He reached out again, stroking Max's hair back and looking at him intently. "He's a tough little guy, but I think he gets frustrated," he said.

He let his hand fall, and then held it in front of Max, signing to him. Max smiled, his eyes starting to dry up, and waved back at Han, then making the same hesitant little sign with his hand. Han grinned proudly.

"He learned that one today," he said proudly.

Leia lifted her hand and signed proud to Max, and then love. He beamed at her and scrunched his nose, falling against her shoulder. His head knocked hard against her collarbone and she winced, but cherished it all the same.

"I think he's so fussy cause he can't hear himself cry that well," Han said, brow furrowing, "and he thinks we can't hear him. And they," Han jutted his thumb over his shoulder at the girls, "scream at him 'cause they don't get that it still hurts his ears," he snorted.

Leia nodded, tilting her head to look at Max's face. He looked back at her happily; reaching up to stick his thumb in his mouth, and Leia let him have that small victory this time. He'd been born with no hearing in one ear, and they were unsure how good his hearing was in the other. He responded to their voices, and was learning to talk fine, but they still worried – Leia had known something was wrong the moment he was handed to her; it had just taken her some time to analyze what it was.

They had no explanation for it, and he was healthy otherwise, so they moved on with it a part of his life. It wasn't something they were in a hurry to immediately fix - nuanced procedures called for invasive brain surgery, and while his quality of life was okay and he was happy, Leia and Han both hesitated to let anyone open his skull. They had decided when he was older, if he wanted some sort of mechanical fix, he could chose that.

"Daddy taught Max the new sign, so I taught Noura," Jaina piped up.

She nudged Noura, and Noura obediently lifted her hand and performed the sign. Max lifted his head and mimicked it back at her. Leia tucked his head under her chin and kissed him, smiling at the girls.

"You're good sisters," she praised.

Noura stood on the sofa and walked forward, reaching out. Han moved closer so she could grab his leg and lean on him for balance, and she swayed back and forth, sticking her hand half in his pocket. She pointed to her thin hair, and the little braids woven in it – each with a Zozy feather tucked in.

"Pretty," she said. "Look, Daddy did twists!"

"Very pretty," Leia complimented. "I hope those had already fallen off Zozy. You know we don't pluck him."

Jaina nodded vigorously.

"I watched her," she said. "Noo-oo-oo plucking," she sang.

Noura reached her other arm out, and Leia stepped forward, bending to give her a kiss and a one-armed hug. Noura was patient and thoughtful and always seemed to be thinking hard, and it was a damn good thing, too. At two-and-a-half and barely thirteen months older than Max, she had never gotten the kind of sole attention Jaina had, and Leia always worried she'd neglected Noura because of how fast Max came along.

She was often asked if Max and Noura were twins – Tatooine twins, Han said dryly, referencing the colloquial term for babies born so close. Close as the twin suns – she and Han, never accustomed to using prophylactics with each other, had gambled poorly with a terrible mix of birth control and the antibiotics she'd taken for a sinus infection. When Noura was four months old and Leia realized she was pregnant again, she'd handed the baby to Han and cried for an hour before she managed to tell him what was wrong.

Han had turned white, swallowed hard, and – Well, we wanted three, Sweetheart.

He was such saving grace.

She had been so apprehensive about having twins, and sometimes she wondered if that would have been easier – she wasn't so sure, though she and Luke had friendly rivalries about it. Leia was damn near positive Mara would tell her twins was the harder end of the deal – at least Noura was sleeping through the night, and self-soothing fairly well when Max was born.

Noura leaned her head against Han's waist.

"Book?" she asked Leia. "Ruh-ruh-read?" she asked, yawning through the word.

Han picked her up, tickling her ribs gently and looking at Leia over her head.

"I told 'er you'd read the bedtime story," he said gruffly, turning his head to Noura. "But," he suggested brightly, "why don't we let Mama eat, and then she can read? That means you get to stay up even more past bedtime," he whispered secretively.

Leia shook her head.

"I'm alright," she said. "I can eat later."

"You gotta be starving, it's after twenty," Han argued.

Leia nodded. She looked around her – at Max, contently sucking his thumb, Noura, looking at her happily, and Jaina, smugly sitting on the couch, reigning over the kingdom like the firstborn scoundrel-princess she was. She looked back at Han, tilting her head.

She'd had her alone time on her flight home; she didn't need it right now – and while the children were still awake, she wanted to sit with them and enjoy it, start the closeness of their upcoming vacation now – the stimuli over the next week would be hectic, as thrilling as it was, and one quiet night to preempt that was not too much to ask.

And – tiring the children out before a close-quarters hyperspace flight was certainly an appealing idea.

"Noura Mé," Leia said, matter-of-fact, "what do you want to read?"

Noura's face lit up at the prospect of choosing a book – and Leia hoped that love of reading stayed with her forever. Jaina leapt off the couch, ready to run and fetch it, and Leia lifted her eyes to Han's again – smiling.

It was all she ever did these days – she smiled.

She was Chief of State, but to him she was always just Leia. His Leia, privately, comprised all the things she'd ever been - Princess, prisoner, soldier, Ambassador, wife, mother, leader - and something else entirely unique that only he possessed. Even if she had not explicitly told him this is where she wanted to be someday, he'd have known. He'd felt it in his bones since the day the war ended, and certainly there had been moments - more so then, than now - during which he loathed the idea of always sharing her with the public. That opinion had changed drastically after his children were born, when he started to give more of a damn then ever about the world they'd give them, and eventually leave them. A core precept of his thinking these days was - please, let us make sure they don't ever have to fight a war.

Leia was more capable than any of guiding and maintaining a stable Republic - and the way she did it while never for a second forgetting family or friends amazed him every day.

Han's footfalls were soft in the main hold as he crept around, slipping into the galley to turn off the light, and checking the cabin, one more time, to make sure everyone was tucked in and still asleep. He smirked at the sight of all three of them safely tucked into the bunks - despite so much insisting that they were never going back to sleep, the steady hum of hyperspace lulled them faster than they could blink.

He leaned against the open hatch, one arm braced on the doorway, his head resting on his forearm. Jaina slept flat on her back, one arm dramatically draped over her face, sprawled out on his and Leia's bunk as if she owned it. He figured she did - once she was old enough to toddle, and still an only child, Jaina had never stayed put in the bunk he'd modified for the babies; she always crawled out and scrambled into bed with him and Leia. There had never been any use in telling her there wasn't quite enough room. Noura and Max were back to back on the spare bunk, Max's thumb falling out of his mouth, Noura snoring softly with her mouth wide open. Han grinned - he couldn't blame people when they asked if the little ones were twins; they looked alike, and were so close in age, so inseparable.

Not twins - just, as Bail had once grumbled, an indication of Han's inability to keep his hands off his wife, even years after the honeymoon phase. Leia's father hardly bore any real animosity towards his son-in-law for the unplanned littlest - he knew how much stress it had caused both Han and Leia, and had, as always, been an invaluable and reliable help. It helped that Max's first word had been Baba, the name they all called Bail, and the Viceroy had remained quite smug that Han's only son did not follow in his daughter's footsteps and ask for him first.

Han shifted his weight and lifted his chin, looking over all of them critically one last time - snug, sleepy, and comfortable, they'd be out for most of the flight. He left the door open, for easy access and so the sound of it closing wouldn't wake anyone, and walked lightly back through the ship to the cockpit.

A control panel made a suspicious, stuttering noise as he passed, and he lazily slammed his fist against it. It popped and hummed back to its normal rhythm, and Han smirked. Right after Jaina was born, he had gone through what for him amounted to a crisis of self; suddenly, his beloved ship had seemed like a death trap, and he had almost lost his mind and considered getting rid of her - he couldn't trust his newborn baby in a ship that constantly broke -! Leia had refused to allow him to sell it, rolling her eyes at him and talking him off the ledge, and he loved her all the more for it. The old girl just seemed to get stubbornly more indestructible as the years went on, as if the Falcon was insisting: see, you can trust me; I'll keep them safe.

He did trust the Falcon, because he trusted himself, and his main priority was keeping them safe without smothering them. Jaina - Jaina had been the recipient of some smothering, but then, she was their first. Noura had taught them how sturdy babies were when she seemed so understanding of Max's arrival, as tiny as she was - and confidence in parenting came with trial and error, experience and age. He and Leia were both capable of identifying real danger, and differentiating it from perceived parental worry. He thought they were growing up well - he was sure they were, with the right amount of balance between the street freedom that had made him tough, and the care, attention, and safety that had educated Leia and made her the woman she was.

He ran a hand back through his hair, stifling a yawn, and walked into the cockpit, peering over the looming back of Chewbacca's seat. As expected, he found Leia there, curled up with the mug of tea she'd brewed. Steam furled up towards her face lazily, and Han leaned on the back of the seat, about to say something, until he realized she was asleep. Holding the mug loosely, her head held up as if she were alert - but asleep, all the same. He snorted quietly and reached down to gently pry the mug from her hands, moving past her and setting it aside on the control console.

Leia's hands fell to her lap and her head lolled back against the seat. She sighed sleepily, and Han sat down in his pilot's seat, leaning back into a comfortable slouch and watching her. They'd been up late last night, up early this morning for their pre-dawn jump to hyperspace, both looking forward to Naboo and the promise of a relaxing few weeks away from politics and work and the pressures of every day life. It was more of a vacation for her - Han's work was not nearly as demanding, high-risk, or high-stakes as hers, but when she was able to relax and leave politics behind for a while, he felt better, too.

"Han," Leia murmured, eyes closed. "'M not asleep. I was drinking that," she mumbled insistently.

He smirked, folding his arms.

"Well, it's right there on the console, Madam Chief," he retorted.

Leia nodded.

"Mm-hmm."

Han tilted his head. Her hair was pulled back in a single loose braid, though it had been tighter when they'd boarded the Falcon. Max had plucked at it, loosening it and loosening it to entertain himself, and she hadn't bothered to tuck it all back into a neat plait. He preferred it that way - he had always been attracted to her messy hair, and it was no different now. She seemed tired, but healthily so, not exhausted - both of them were always pleasantly tired these days, anyway. Real sleep, the way they used to know it, had become an endangered species the moment Jaina was born, and they were still trying to preserve its existence.

Her eyes flew open and she gazed at him hazily for a moment. She smiled, and sat up, stretching, and letting one leg fall from the chair. She stretched to reclaim her mug. As she did, Han wondered what it was like - what it was really like, because she talked about it with him, but he'd never truly understand from her perspective - to run the galaxy and then come home and listen to one of Jaina's wild stories that had no real plot at all, or braid Noura's hair, or soothe Max when he was crying about nothing (again). His work was different - he contracted; essentially, he did what he wanted. A version of smuggling, with the proper papers and permits - he trained pilots, he consulted on things, he helped Luke with some of his expeditions when he needed to get out - he did, indeed, often partner with Carlist to track down Alderaanian artifacts that had been stolen, and turned up in the underground markets. Han's contacts in the bazaars and black markets still served him well sometimes - some, even better, now that he had influence and power.

He kept that old life at arms' length, but respected it where it was needed, and what it had taught him, and eventually led him to. For the most part, he was the steady figure at home, though they had one caretaker and two babysitters they called on occasion. Other than one brief stint when Han had agreed to a reactivation of his military service solely to assist in attending to a very credible insurgency threat in the regions around Tatooine - regions he knew well - he did more of the day-to-day, mundane parenting, though he didn't think of it as doing more. As far as he was concerned, Leia had physically had the children, and everything else was easy.

She disagreed. On some tearful nights, when everyone was crying, or days when Jaina was stubborn and angry, and Noura only wanted Han, and Max was fussy, she swore that childbirth was the easiest thing she'd ever done, compared to this.

He'd missed them like hell when he was working with Dodonna and Madine on that mess in the outer rim. For most of it he'd been based near or on Coruscant, within an easy jaunt home and helping with strategy, but towards the end of it he'd been in the thick of the space battles, with more passion for fighting would-be fascists and separatists since he wanted a stable republic for Jaina and - well, at that time, Leia had been pregnant with Noura. He'd been home for her birth, but deployed for about six weeks after, until the threat was entirely extinguished. He had returned, Dodonna, calling that his swan song, had retired, and Leia, who had taken longer maternity leave since he would be gone, had been on the verge of going back to work when - Max.

She told him, frequently and stubbornly, that if he hadn't been deployed, she'd never have gotten pregnant with Max so quickly, because she wouldn't have missed him so much. After Jaina, she'd been so distracted, tired, and sore, it had been much longer than the prescribed six weeks before they were intimate again; after Noura, it was almost immediate when they got the clear. It had been a whirlwind, yet somehow they had balanced it. She said Max was without a doubt her easiest pregnancy - Jaina average, Noura awful, and the one between Noura and Jaina, nothing really at all, a thing he still wasn't sure he understood. It had been right when all of that was settling, when they had a firm handle on everything, and he was back taking contracts and getting out more and more, that Mon had taken ill, and Leia had stepped into her position.

And now - things settled again, as they always did. He had finished up some consulting work with the New Republic fleet just last week, and Luke wanted him on Naboo a couple times a month to teach flying and marksmanship. Luke was adamant about drawing his instructors from a tightly vetted pool of close-knit friends and people he'd trusted, now, and Han - Han just enjoyed watching how Luke's life had exploded into chaos in the last year. He and Leia both found it amusing, they supported him, but made a show of kicking back and offering sage advice.

Luke was as compassionate, thoughtful, and kind as ever - but fatherhood had thrown him for a loop.

Leia licked her lips and leaned her head back, her foot swaying.

"You think Jaina's going to change her mind about wanting to go to the reception?" she murmured.

Han snorted.

"Not a chance," he warned. "Pass up a chance to be at a grown-up, fancy event?" He shook his head. "We shoulda told her no."

Leia shrugged lightly.

"Oh, I'm happy to have her there. It's a good introduction to that sort of thing, though I'll never make them go to events. I think she'll get bored and act up."

Han smirked.

"Not a problem - even better excuse than usual," he drawled.

Leia rolled her eyes fondly. Han certainly loved his children - and almost as much, he loved that at galas and fundraisers and political events, he had perfectly valid excuses now to sneak out early under the pretense of needing to go home to check on them, or relieve the sitter. If he had Jaina visible to pick up and march out -

"It will be a good time," Leia reminded him. "Luke's worked so hard."

There was more than enough truth in that - Luke's efforts over the past few years had been an intensive effort continuing to scour the galaxy for Jedi lore and history, talking with scholars, analyzing old documents, learning from his own long dead mentors, and combining all the information he could, and all of his good intentions and bright hopes, into a new Jedi Academy, which he settled on Naboo, in honor of his mother. He said Padme was as much a victim of the failures of the old Jedi Order as much as she was a beacon of heroic resistance and a martyr for the old democracy, and he wanted to redeem the Jedi legacy by honoring her. Han figured that somewhere in there was a desire to redeem Vader, in some way, by further lionizing the woman he'd betrayed.

The kid had fought an uphill battle against those who mistrusted the Force, who either didn't believe in the Jedi, or conflated them with the Sith, but had persevered, and the result was this magnificent, sprawling educational institute that they would all see in its grand glory at the inaugural reception in a few days - Jaina's first official public appearance, and the culmination of so much of Luke's work. A culmination, but not an end - he wasn't starting a new Order, but something entirely unique.

The Force - that sort of hokey stuff he'd always been wary of, when he believed in at all, was another thing he was less suspicious of. Luke's ambitions and projects were an inexplicable thing all their own, but the first time Jaina had flung a stuffed animal across the room with her raw sensitivity, Han had gotten it into his head real quick that he'd better start trying to understand, even if he never really got it.

And he was damn proud of his brother-in-law, even if the kid was a hell of an enigma, most of the time.

"Mmhm," Han grunted. "Yeah," he mumbled, stifling a yawn.

Less of an enigma, actually, since Mara had the twins and anxiously he came seeking Han's advice for all kinds of relatable things.

He ran a hand back through his hair and over his jaw, rubbing his face. He blinked, suddenly tired, and turned to check that their flight path was still steady, and all of their controls were set correctly and running smoothly. Leia tilted her head at him, and handed over her mug of tea. Han took it, stifling a smaller yawn.

"You can go to sleep, Han," Leia said, amused. She gestured at the controls. "I can handle this."

"Know you can," Han retorted. He took a drink of tea and handed it back. "You go to sleep, you're more tired," he retorted.

Leia set aside the mug. She got up and tip-toed over to his chair, sitting down on his lap and lifting her hand to run in back through his hair. She shook her head, a soft, reprimanding look in her eyes.

"It's not a competition," she reminded him.

She kissed his temple, and rested her forehead against his, lowering her voice.

"You know I think motherhood is scarier than politics," she whispered. "Senators are easy."

Han tilted his head back and grinned lazily. She had a point - both of them had faced bad politicians and brutal dictators and everything in between, but nothing really compared to the diplomatic battle that had taken place week Noura decided she was never going to let anyone brush her hair again, or the negotiations that had occurred the day Jaina put one of the Falcon's dice in her mouth and and threatened to swallow it.

He glanced at the dice hanging unobtrusively from the dash - still two, though one had very determined teeth marks on it. It was an incident that taught Han never to underestimate the ingenuity of a three-year-old who had just been told she absolutely could not play with the NaviComputer, and please stop taking the lid off that sippy cup or Daddy is banning you from the cockpit.

Leia's hand drifted to the back of his neck, and started to massage gently. Han closed his eyes contently, relaxing and idly thinking about the upcoming weeks. It would be good to see the Naberries again, especially Maiah and Iver, who they hadn't seen since Indy's Diplomatic Academy graduation last year. Rouge would be there, too, and they hadn't seen Rouge since she'd taken some of her Alderaanian girls to Theed to mentor them at Amidala's Library, just a few months ago. And - he knew Leia was anxious to check in with Mara. She and Luke had visited for two weeks a month ago, and things had seemed a bit difficult for her.

Han wrapped his arms around Leia's waist and pulled her closer. It really was an unnerving thing, sometimes, to be sitting in the pilot's chair of a rusty old ship with the Chief of State in his lap. He only thought of it in the abstract, thought of how funny it would be if some of the public caught a glimpse into their fiercely guarded private life. So many of them wouldn't recognize the Leia they knew, but then, so many of them refused to see her as human anyway. It made compassion more difficult.

Leia rested her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes.

"Jaina's awake," she warned under her breath.

Han ran his hand over her thigh, shrugging. If she had any sense, Jaina would sneak out of the bunk room without waking her siblings. If she didn't, there was a chance Leia could soothe the little ones back to sleep through her connection to them. The nuances of that still fascinated Han. It had been so rough at first, when Leia was learning to manage the new aspect of her sensitivity, and Jaina was adjusting to the overwhelming stimulus of life itself. Han had been more out of his element than most new fathers, trying to learn first how to be a parent at all, and how to navigate it when a Force-sensitive wife and baby who constantly set each other off while trying to find a way to balance and manage their connection.

He had made the mistake of sort of assuming she'd have an easier time soothing and adjusting to motherhood because of the Force, because it made her so intuitive while she was pregnant, but that wasn't always the case. Jaina was still like any other new baby, scared of the world she'd come into, and Leia was like any other new mother - always hard on herself, and trying to figure it out.

"She's going to play Dejarik," Leia whispered.

"You spyin' on her?" Han teased gruffly.

Leia shook her head. She reached up and tapped her temple primly.

"She asked me."

She furrowed her brow, and lifted her head a little, frowning. Han gave her a look, arching his brows.

"She up to something?" he guessed, easily identifying the look on Leia's face.

Leia frowned more deeply.

"She feels...sneaky," she murmured.

Han leaned forward a little, and after a moment, Jaina came sashaying slowly to the door of the cockpit, peeking around at them. Her hair streamed behind her in a knotty tail, and she swung one of her legs back and forth before hopping into full view. She eyed them curiously, and put her hands on her hips.

"May I...get some...snacks?" she asked, cocking her head. "If you are not...busy," she said, narrowing her eyes, "kissing."

Han grinned. He pretended to lean forward and try to kiss Leia, but she dodged him, giving Jaina a critical look. Jaina bit her lip, wilting under her mother's probing stare.

"Oh, yeah," she said, hopping forward, her little brows knitting. "Max, he looked like he might fall outta the bunk," she said solemnly. "So I put him on the floor."

Han's grin faded, and he glared at her. Jaina threw her hands up cutely, shrugging, and Leia gave her a dubious look - Jaina's attempts to protect and care for Max were often sweet, sometimes absurd, but mostly just baffling. Han wasn't sure if she was just a silly little thing, or if she was a smidge jealous of the babies, as their attention had admittedly been wrapped up in the little ones, and exhausted by them - and that had been very abrupt for Jaina, going as she had from being an only child to being one of three within about thirteen months.

Leia got up, shaking her head, and sighed, ruffling Jaina's hair as she walked past to tend to the baby. Max was a good sleeper, but it wouldn't take long for the chilly bunk room floor to wake him up and make him unhappy. He watched Leia go, and then folded his arms and slowly swung his seat towards Jaina, arching an eyebrow pointedly.

"What if you had dropped him when you picked him up?" he asked sternly.

Jaina shuffled her feet. She lifted her hand, extended it, and summoned Leia's mug of tea, letting it drift forward and into her cupped hands. She didn't spill a drop. She looked at Han over it earnestly, her expression stern.

"I don't drop things, Daddy."

Han laughed.

"C'mere," he muttered, extending his arms.

Jaina started to leap forward, remembered she was holding tea, and lurched to the side, searching for somewhere to set it down. She set it back on the console, making sure it balanced, and then turned and hopped up into Han's lap, pulling herself up by his shoulders. He caught her and held her steady, but let her do most of it herself, as she liked the independence. He tugged her hair playfully and kissed the top of her head, holding her chin gently and giving her a mock stern look.

"You know Max doesn't belong on the floor," he chided.

Jaina widened her eyes innocently, and then scrunched her nose, giggling.

"It was a trick!" she confessed. "Can't trick Mommy," she added.

Han nodded in agreement. He'd known Jaina to play such a trick before, specifically on her grandfather. He'd seen it. When Max was much littler, not mobile at all yet, Han had come to pick up the children from Bail's residence and snuck in to watch him interact with the kids, only to see Jaina sweetly agree to keep an eye on Max while Bail took Noura to the bathroom. She had checked her surroundings, then plucked Max off the couch, placed him gently on the floor, and turned around and let out an ear splitting shriek and told Bail he fell. That was a parenting exercise more difficult than any - trying so hard not to laugh and encourage her like he wanted to, and instead giving a reprimand when he really ought to have captured the look on Bail's face in a freeze frame for the annals of history.

Jaina had inherited so much of Han's charm and mischief, though Bail was adamant that plenty of that mischief could be accredited to Leia. Named after Han's mother, and Leia's too, in the unique way they'd devised, she had always seemed to him like the final piece of a puzzle, the greatest victory, and the best threshold he and Leia had ever crossed. Noura and Max were natural extensions of that, but even though his relationship with Jaina, Han felt more apart of the Organas, and the Skywalkers, and - everything really.

He stood up, swinging Jaina onto his hip. She was too big to be carried very often, but he still spoiled her sometimes. Letting go of her seemed like giving the rest of the permission to get older, too, and he wasn't ready for that. He whistled softly and gave her a look, marching out of the cockpit in search of Leia - he'd check on her, check on the other two, then fix Jaina her snack.

When he stopped in the doorway of the bunk-room, Leia was asleep on the small bunk with both Noura and Max, snuggled up in the cramped space. She looked perfectly content, and Han turned his head, sharing a look with Jaina - he put a finger to his lips to indicate letting her sleep, and Jaina nodded earnestly. He took her into the galley - he'd split a bottle of fizzy juice with her, so she didn't have too much sugar, and portion out some crackers, and then he'd show her some metrics and pretend to let her fly the ship, and let Leia rest for as long as she could.

The Jedi Academy that Luke had founded on Naboo was a testament to his perseverance. It breathed; it felt lifelike, a living representation of Luke's soul-searching, his personal struggles, his quest for answers, and his vision for not only a redeemed Jedi Order, but a redeemed galaxy, and a respect and knowledge for the Force that was taught to all, rather than secreted away but elites. He was adamant, day in and day out, that he had no interest in sanctity or religion; he had made such strides in uncovering all of the practices and codes of the past, and in the end, he had left most of them by the wayside.

He had compiled myths and legends, laws and real history, and determined what he felt to be the ultimate failure of the Jedi: the eschewing of attachments. Nothing under the stars could have persuaded her brother to break with his attachment, his Mara, and when he'd been introduced to his nieces and nephews, Leia had known Luke would never choose a life that deprived him of children of his own - nor would he demand anyone else make that choice. He was creating not a priesthood, but a commune of learning, a community.

Academy - it was his school; his haven. A haven for those sensitive in the Force, the descendants of those who had been hurt by the rotting doctrines of the old days. He was redeeming not just his father, but the ills of the brotherhood that had helped break his father, and Leia was so proud of him - and so happy to stand in his spotlight for once, and be at the christening of his grand achievement giving her tacit of approval as Chief of State, to the Jedi reborn.

She took her time walking through the hallowed halls of the campus. It was all at once smaller, and larger than she'd expected - the hearth of what would be a network, she knew, as the years went on. He had saved many already, brought students here - sensitive or not - who had nowhere to go but were fascinated with scholarship, who wanted to learn and research even if they might not have power, and inspired all of them. Luke was as much of an inspiration as ever, and she did not rush to the central reception hall as she and Han explored; there would be time to see Luke, and he was reveling in his moment.

Leia was mingling with guests. She spoke politely to acquaintances and searched out the faces of more familiar people - and she and Han kept their eyes on Jaina without letting her know she was being watched closely. If she knew they were eyeing her, she'd try to escape. If she thought she was free, she'd stay close. Much like her mother had always been in the palaces on Alderaan.

She watched as Jaina took a skipping leap forward, then stumbled and fell forward, landing on her hands and knees. She raised her eyebrows, watched Jaina blink, look around sheepishly, and then stand up, darting back towards Han. She tucked herself against his leg, reaching up to grab Leia's hand tightly.

"I fell," she whispered loudly.

"Told you to stop runnin'," Han retorted.

Jaina stuck her tongue out just a little, but held Leia's hand. She stayed close, that is, until they entered the main room, returning from their quiet little tour of the place, and Jaina caught sight of so many familiar people. Her face lit up, and she hopped forward, lifting her arm and waving. Leia smiled at the sight of her father standing with Rouge, and Pooja Naberrie, and loosened her grip on Jaina's hand.

"Baba!" she laughed, her soft leather boots echoing as she ran to him.

Bail crouched down to catch her and swing her up, laughing. He held her high above his head, touched his forehead to hers, and then gave her a hug, and Leia beamed, warmed by vague memories of being greeted the same way, when she would see her father after his long Senate sessions on Coruscant. Jaina slid her arms around his neck and squeezed, then turned, happily chattering to Pooja and Rouge.

A hand on her shoulder; Leia turned to find Sola there, and lifted her arms to hug her, smiling at her aunt.

"I'm surprised you brought her," Sola said, brows raised, as she kissed Leia's cheek. "It's good to see you - and you, look at you," Sola clicked her tongue, her eyes running over the vivid red dress Leia had chosen for the evening. "You've had three babies? It's not fair."

Leia flushed a little. Han ran his hand over her shoulder smugly; he'd said as much earlier. She rarely dressed in such sleek, tastefully revealing finery these days. The last truly scandalous gown she'd worn was - was it Han's retirement? And she usually chose more muted, prudish fashions for her work. She did not think she looked at all the same as she used to, but it didn't bother her much, it never had. She'd have traded thinness and good looks for Jaina, Noura, and Max without a second thought.

Sola turned to greet Han, giving him the same chaste kiss on the cheek, and turned to wave at Jaina. They were all gathered in their respective homes in Theed tonight - Leia and Han staying with Jobal and Ruwee, as they had the most space - but most, save for Luke and Mara, would travel back to Varykino tonight to spend the next week or so.

"She must be thrilled," Sola noted.

Leia nodded, sighing. She looked around protectively - she and Han were fiercely protective of their children's privacy. Leia had worked tirelessly before Jaina's birth to ensure enforceable laws were in place regarding the Media and the children of public figures. She had come down so hard on the first paparazzo who had attempted to photograph a baby Jaina that it was not the problem it might have been. Save for a few harmless photos taken in public places that were done from a distance, without disturbing or scaring her daughter, she was confident that she had kept the three of them almost unrecognizable, especially the babies. It would become harder as they grew, but for now, they were closely guarded; Jaina's full name had been released, but Leia was almost certain that most people were uncertain if 'Noura' was the confirmed name of her second daughter, and she was quite amused with the guessing games that were still going on about Max - the top bet was usually Prestor.

Which wasn't, she thought, watching her father listen seriously to Jaina's current tale, an entirely absurd guess; Max had almost been Max Prestor. Bail himself had asked that if he was going to be honored in the name, he be allowed to choose it, and he'd given him Breha's - Antilles.He said that Breha had always wanted to name their son Antilles, if it had ever been in the cards.

"Ruwee vetted the Media, and secondary vetted it through Winter," Leia murmured. "We trust them."

Any official photos of the event that included Jaina would be passed through Tavska for Leia's approval, anyway, and Leia hadn't decided if she'd allow them. Perhaps if there were any of Jaina with Han, Han looking as threatening as he did whenever a holo got near his daughter.

They moved closer to the group as it grew, exchanging greetings with Pooja, Rouge - Leia lifted her head to acknowledge Ruwee, surrounded by some scholars. She knew Luke was here somewhere, and in a moment, she'd go searching for him. For now -

"How's Max, Noura?" Pooja asked excitedly. "I know I'll see them later, but - were they sad to be left at home?"

"With Jo?" Han snorted - Jobal had stayed behind with the little ones, Ryoo's youngest included. "She'll spoil them rotten."

"Niaz, too," Ryoo piped up, joining them with Whyler at her side. "She made the mistake of thinking I was done, and now Maiah, Iver, and Niaz are ruined," she said fondly. "Jaina Yvaine Solo, is that you?" she asked, squealing happily. She leaned forward and smoothed Jaina's hair, kissing her nose. "You grew!"

Jaina beamed, flushing happily at the attention.

Ryoo and Whyler had Niaz about a year after Jaina was born - Ryoo, accusing Leia affectionately of reminding her how good it was to have a baby, and Whyler, swearing up and down he was going to murder Han for putting that idea back in his wife's head. Niaz chased after Maiah and Iver like any much younger sibling was wont to do, and Maiah was often told to put up with it as she was regaled with embarrassing stories of her five-year-old crush on Han Solo.

"Twins here?" Han asked them.

"Yes," Ryoo said, waving flippantly. "Indy is watching them in that he's occasionally dragging his attention away from his boyfriend to pretend he's watching them," she said, pointing through the crowds of people at her eighteen-year-old son. Indy stood near a refreshment table in animated conversation with boy his age and his height, oblivious to the thirteen-year-old twins weaving their way through the crowds.

Leia watched as Maiah and Iver came up to them, Maiah darting into the circle. Maiah gave Leia a curtsy, grinning at her with a shy wave, and then turned and folded her arms, eager to whisk Jaina away for their game - they were eight years older than her, but still the only three children here, as far as Leia knew. Winter had planned on coming, and bringing her youngest, who showed some signs of sensitivity, but she and Tycho were tied up at the Haven.

"Hi, Mai," Jaina greeted, snickering at how musical it sounded. She slouched in Bail's grip, and pouted her lips at him. "May I play?"

"Oh, I think you better ask Mom and Dad," Bail said solemnly, turning to them. He mimicked Jaina's pleading look, and Han rolled his eyes.

Han glanced at Leia, and Leia inclined her head cautiously.

"Don't break anything," Han said sternly. "That includes artifacts, tapestries, cutlery," he was still listing items as Bail let Jaina down, and she started to scamper off, "lamps, furniture, your bones, anyone else's bones," Leia laughed and put a hand on his arm, "or hearts!" Han finished dramatically.

She looped her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment. It was so wonderful to feel safe letting Jaina roam - and Naboo was the safest Leia ever felt, whether that was due to the healing she'd found here once upon a time, or the genuine calm of its people. It was wonderful to leave her work behind for a while - even if her position never left her - and wonderful to feel at ease in this place, where the Force hummed in her ears and danced through her. She felt at ease with it, rather than intimidated; she rarely thought of the Force as a dangerous entity anymore. It had been used in brutal ways by vile individuals - but so had many other things in human history, and now, how could she ever abhor the sensitivity that had given her the most incredible connection with her children?

Watching them discover, and use it, too, was eye-opening and exciting. Their innocence with it was joyful and inspiring, and their little losses of control were often funny, or at least indicative of needs they were otherwise having trouble expressing. Even Han, without any Force sensitivity at all, knew that the tangled knots in Noura's boot laces meant she wanted them off, off, please, Daddy, though she couldn't yet unlace them with her own power, she only knotted them further.

Han shook his shoulder a little, looking down at her with amusement. Leia blinked, and realized they were all looking at her - she'd been spoken to. She lifted her head, eyes wide, and Han laughed, his shoulders shaking.

"You put her in a fancy gown, take 'er out of the office, she forgets how to function," he joked. "Glass of wine, she'll be asleep."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Leia murmured. "What did I...?"

"I asked if Zozy came with you," Bail said.

"Hmm," Leia sighed. She glanced up at Han, an eyebrow raised. "No, he's staying with Yorev," Leia said.

Yorev was their caretaker, an young Alderaanian who had served as a nanny since Jaina was little. Zozy liked him, and he seemed to be the best choice for a keeper, as Zozy had grown increasingly anxious about space travel as he grew older, and was somewhat of a nightmare if he was dragged to a succession of new places.

"And how is Mon doing?" Rouge asked gently. "We hear very little."

Leia took a deep breath. She smiled a little sadly, but nodded encouragingly. Mon was responding to treatment well, but she was sad to be away from the political world that was so beloved to her. Leia often asked for her council even if she didn't need it, to keep Mon's spirits up. She was sure Mon knew that was the case, but she appreciated it anyway. She started to offer a more generic, verbal response, but she caught sight of Luke, and her heart sped up. She lifted her head more and tugged at Han's arm. He was a little removed from the crowds, smiling, watching - and Leia excused herself and Han from the group, making her way to him.

He beamed at her as she approached, and Leia was so full of pride for a moment that she almost burst into tears. She hurried closer, and let go of Han, giving into some giddiness and throwing her arms around Luke's neck. He caught her hug happily, squeezing tightly.

"It's incredible, Luke," she whispered, pulling back to meet his eyes fiercely. "It's magnificent."

Luke swallowed hard.

"It will be," he said confidently, proud of his achievement, and inspired still, to make it better, to keep it pure. He nodded his head, showing Leia what he'd stepped aside from the crowd to watch - Jaina, sitting off in an a garden alcove with the Vex twins, a small native bird perched on her elbow. She appeared to be whispering to it, and after a moment, she coaxed it to take a flower petal from Iver's hand.

Luke took a deep breath, grinning.

"That's exactly what this place is for," he said, filled with admiration for his niece, and anticipation, and excitement, as he thought of what his own daughters might be able to do one day.

"Yeah, thanks for keepin' an eye on her - watch it, or she'll bewitch that bird into squawking in someone's ear for a trick," Han warned, leaning forward to envelope Luke in a strong hug. He thumped him on the back, pulling back and holding him at arms length. For good measure, he ruffled the kid's - still the kid, always - hair and nodded firmly. "This is really somethin', Luke," he said seriously.

Luke reached up and squeezed his hands, tacitly thanking him for his support. Leia touched her hands to her lips and then reached out again, moving closer. She searched Luke's expression, maintaining an awareness of Jaina, and feeling for her brother's presence in the Force, gauging his mood on a deeper level. He was nervous, relieved, proud, invigorated - happy; so happy.

"Not a delusion of grandeur?" Luke asked smugly.

Han snorted.

"Not hokey, either," he said.

"Luke," she began gently, folding her arms. "How's Mara?" she asked intently.

To her relief, Luke smiled brightly. He shrugged.

"Good, she's good," he emphasized. "Whatever you said to her really helped," he added earnestly. He leaned closer, arching a brow; "at least, she doesn't think Beru hates her anymore. She's been more open to help, and Jobal and Sola come over a lot."

Straightening up, he glanced over to the side, and gestured, his face glowing.

"See? You can ask her," he said.

Surprised, Leia turned. She had thought Mara wasn't going to attend. Until very recently, Luke said she had trouble leaving the twins with anyone else, which was naturally affecting her ability to decompress and cope. There she was, however – crouched down in front of Jaina, stroking the little bird's plumage. She seemed to sense the attention, and straightened, giving Jaina a little wave.

She made her way over to them, though she did not offer hugs or kisses; Mara had remained physically cool to everyone she encountered save Luke. She did incline her head, a peaceful expression on her face, and Leia sensed much less stress rolling off of her.

Holding her hand out, palm up, Mara drew it in front of her as if making a presentation and nodded, glancing at Luke slyly.

"Yes, I've been convinced to leave my babies with a sitter," she drawled.

"Be careful," Han said, deadpan. "Sitters are gateway drugs. You leave 'em with a sitter once, next thing you know, your father-in-law takes the kids for three days and you forget to notice."

Leia elbowed him, giving him a look; don't scare her. Han grinned, and Mara arched one thin eyebrow, cocking her head.

"I certainly would notice if my father-in-law had the girls," she said dryly.

Han, well aware of the reference to Vader, still gave her a serious look.

"Depends on how tired you are," he confided.

Mara laughed, and Leia shared a relieved look with Luke to hear it. It was genuine, and Mara seemed so much lighter than she had the last time, and Leia knew it must be a liberating feeling for her. Getting over the nervous, initial fear of letting someone else care for your babies was difficult, but Han had a point – after you got used to it, it was almost too easy to do.

Mara and Luke's twins were about six months old. From what Leia had been able to tell in her conversations with Mara – and Luke – Beru, the younger one, had trouble bonding, while Jade had a good temperament but was often distressed by her sister's anxiety. And Mara, of course, faced the same adjustment issues Leia had, though with more Force sensitivity in her house, and more travel – and she and Luke tended to isolate themselves more on their quests, which they were learning to stop doing now that the had the twins.

"You two comin' up to Varykino after all?" Han asked gruffly, figuring it might be a possibility

Mara and Luke looked at each other, and Luke rested his hand on her shoulder, shrugging lightly.

"We're thinking about it, later in the week," he said. "We'd like to see everyone," he said mildly.

It's a lot of people, Luke thought, and Leia nodded calmly – She's still wary of parenting in front of people. Leia inclined her head, offering back her own thoughts – A lot of people mean a lot of help, she added mildly.

"How are Max and Noura?" Mara asked. She pursed her lips. "Wasn't Max starting to walk, the last time we saw him?"

Han laughed.

"He can walk," he said, "but we think Noura told him to knock it off, y'know. Warned him it means he stops gettin' carried as much."

"His hearing?" Luke asked earnestly, reaching up to touch his own ear.

Leia lifted one shoulder.

"He perceives the world a little differently," she said quietly. "I don't think he's losing hearing in this other ear," she added. "He picks up signs well."

"We're going to teach them to Beru and Jade, too," Luke said.

She smiled at him warmly. Han put his arm around her shoulder, and Leia leaned into him, turning her head to look at Jaina. The bird she had tamed was nowhere to be seen, no doubt set free. Jaina looked over at Leia, and Leia smiled at her, tilting her head. Jaina got up and sidled away from Maiah and Iver, running over carefully. She darted through Mara and Luke's legs, and then settled at Leia's feet, leaning her head back against her knees.

Looking down at her, Leia stroked her hair, and Jaina looked up sheepishly, and gave a little yawn. Leia grinned, and glanced at Han wryly before she looked back at Luke, sharing good, long, understanding look with him.

They had both come so far, done so much, found so much healing and peace, and their pivotal roles in a previous generation's battles had ended, leaving them to their own devices, their own futures – and their own happiness.

Luke had pushed her and helped guide her in so many ways – on paths of forgiveness and exploration of her powers – and without him, perhaps she never would have found her ways to meditate, reconciled herself with her heritage, seized the confidence to confront her bloodline. He had been as important to her, and to the galaxy, as Han was, and she was happy to see him content now – happy for their children to grow up together.

Luke looked back at her, and smiled.

Varykino was much as he remembered it, a peaceful, secluded palace out in the Lake Country. It sort of reminded him of his and Leia's Corellian chalet, but there property was much smaller, and they did not invite guests to it. Varykino was a kind of gathering place; it had history and charisma, and Han was glad to see it again. Though they had forged close relationships with all of the Naberries over the years, he and Leia had not been back to Varykino since their first introduction to the Naberries - not for lack of invites, but for lack of time.

It had just become harder and harder for Leia to take long stretches away, and Varykino was a place that demanded the luxury of a long vacation.

The trek from Theed up to the Lake Country had been somewhat of a hassle, as both Max and Noura had woken up when they were moved to the Falcon, and Jaina was irritable and tired from the excitement of being up so late, and out with adults. Still, almost everyone had agreed that it was better to make this day a long one, and travel up to the lake house at night, rather than waste half of the next day traveling and settling in. This way, despite how late they arrived at Varykino, all the little ones could be re-settled into bed, sleep in a little later - and the adults could benefit from that, and start the regimen of relaxation fresh tomorrow.

Han hoped Luke and Mara could be persuaded to come up. He didn't see the kid enough anymore, and he missed that. He'd like to get to know his nieces better, too. They weren't even a year old, but if there was one thing he'd learned over the past few years - almost six, to be exact - it was that even little babies had plenty of personality. All three of his definitely had their differences - a prime example being that Jaina went to sleep almost immediately when settled in to their rooms at Varykino, while Max and Noura both stubbornly refused, for their own reasons. Noura, because she wanted to explore, and a little because she was usually unsettled as long as her brother was unsettled, and Max because - he was Max.

Leia theorized that because he had his hearing problems, he was constantly overstimulated by all of his other senses. It would probably be true of any other baby, but it was doubly true of a Force sensitive one. Han had tasked himself with getting Noura to sleep - without waking Jaina back up, and in spite of Max's anxiety, and Leia was in the parlor area tending to him. He'd quieted down half an hour ago, and that was around the same time Noura had started to sleepily nod off in Han's lap.

He shook his head to keep himself awake, eyeing her affectionately as she stubbornly tried to keep her eyes open, tapping her fingers on the Holo picture book Han had let her play with. As each colourful image scanned by, she blinked more heavily, and he grinned, running his hand over her hair soothingly. Once asleep, Noura was good - the best sleeper - of all three of the kids. She used to frustrate the hell out of Leia but falling asleep while she was feeding, leaving Leia in the constantly dilemma of not wanting to wake up a sleeping baby, as the sleep was a blessing, but not wanting to sit around aching because Noura hadn't eaten enough.

She pushed aside the reader and leaned against his chest, letting her head fall back, and her mouth fall open. Han patiently waited a good five minutes before lifting her, shifting from the chair he was in to his knees, and settling her next to Jaina on the cozy pallets on the floor. Varykino was massive enough for them to have bigger suites, with a room - or two - for the children, but Leia had liked the idea of staying in their same room, and she thought all three of them might sleep easier if they were close to their parents while they got used to the place.

Han figured by the end of the trip, they'd have to ransack the house trying to find what nook or secret passage Jaina had scouted out and decided to sleep in, and they could always move Noura and Max into the antechamber if they needed any privacy. Then again, there was always the shower - with three kids, he and Leia had gotten particularly good at the intimacy acrobatics needed for a good, shared shower. He suspected they had at least five more years of Jaina believing they cared that much about saving water before the jig was up.

Jaina rolled onto her side as Han put Noura down, and Noura's eyes fluttered. She peeked at him through lidded eyes, her expression suspicious, but seemed to decide it was okay that he had put her down, and rolled over. She yawned, reached out to put her hand on Jaina's back, and then drifted back to sleep, her nose twitching cutely. Crouched, Han looked between them both, making sure they looked safe and comfortable, and then reached behind him to brace a hand on the chair and leverage himself up. He turned off the Holo reader and set it aside, pausing to admire them one more time before he snuck out - even in her sleep Jaina looked like she was up to something, and Noura looked so much like Leia it astonished him.

He left the room, rubbing his neck. He was exhausted, but not quite ready for bed. Sore, but alert - under his breath, he grumbled a few choice swear words; getting older sure as hell wasn't a joke. It felt like he had woken up one day to his muscles and joints deciding they were done with his shenanigans - and he wasn't old by many standards, he just felt it more sharply in comparison to Leia's age.

She was sitting on the sofa in the antechamber, still in her evening gown, Max cradled in her arms. Han rounded the sofa, placing his palms on the back of it and leaning down to watch. He pressed a kiss to the top of Leia's head, and she turned her head, looking up a little, rocking Max gently back and forth. She'd slid down the thin, glittery sleeve of her red gown so that it draped down her shoulder, baring her chest. She tucked Max's head against her breast, and Han arched his brows.

"How's he doin'?" he asked, always just a little more protective, a little more worried, about their youngest. He tilted his head. "Hey, are you feeding him?" he asked, interested.

Leia shook her head. She sighed, humming softly.

"No," she said after a moment. "I haven't been able to in a while now," she admitted mildly. Han nodded - that's what he'd thought. He knew it bothered her; she felt Noura and Max had both been neglected in that respect, Max particularly, but as they had learned with Jaina, Han simply couldn't help as much if she exclusively breastfed - and with Max and Noura as close as they were, and her sudden ascension to the highest political position in the galaxy, she'd needed all of his help, as much sleep as she could get and, frankly - less sore breasts.

"I miss it," she offered thoughtfully, "and I think he soothes better against bare skin."

She brought her arm up and kissed Max's cheek.

"He likes it there," she murmured.

Han cut his eyes at her. He ran his hand over her shoulder, stopping at the back of her neck to massage lightly, and smirked. Leia tilted her head back into the massage, and glared at him mildly.

"If you make one comment that sounds even remotely similar to 'like father, like son - " she warned.

"Wasn't gonna," Han placated innocently.

And he wasn't gonna. He hadn't made jokes like that for the girls, and he wouldn't on Max's behalf. That sort of thing was within Lando's realm of behavior - and Han was sure he meant it harmlessly. He'd just never thought of Max eating as something to be made...sexual. Dashing and chivalrous as Lando could be, when he turned the charm on, he'd retained some of the cruder tendencies of the streets, though Han had noticed Tendra, and their two-year-old son, Kofi, were starting to tame him even more than honest business had.

Instead he turned his nose against Leia's neck for a moment, nuzzling below her ear.

"I do like it there," he mumbled affectionately.

She smiled, and he lifted his head, kissing her jaw, than pulling his hand through her hair.

"You sure you don't want one more?" he asked slyly.

Leia gave a soft, breathless laugh. She nodded - she would miss her babies, but she was done. She and Han both were.

He straightened up and came around to the sofa and sat down close to her, the side of his body aligning with hers. She leaned into him and got more comfortable. As she adjusted, Max shifted, turning his head around sleepily to look. He spotted Han and smiled. Han waved at him. Max let his head loll back and stared at Han, upside down, grinning, and Leia laughed quietly.

"Here, take him," she said softly. "My arms hurt. He's heavy."

Han did so, and Leia drew her feet up on the couch and stayed close, leaning against his arm. He held Max in the crook of one elbow, and Max buried his face in Han's ribs and settled back down easily, his hair sticking up at odd angles all over. He had the same dark gold hair Han did, growing more thickly by the day, and despite her father's preferences, Leia refused to cut it just yet. She leaned against Han's arm contently and tickled Max's feet gently, watching him smile and flush happily. Han watched her play with the baby for a moment, and then cocked his head.

"What'd you say to Mara?" he asked curiously.

Leia looked up at him, her lips pursed uncertainly, and Han shrugged.

"Luke said whatever you told her, it helped," he repeated. "I was wonderin' what you said."

"Ah," Leia said softly. "Well," she reflected for a moment.

Han was curious about what sort of wisdom she'd thought was most important to impart to a struggling mother. He had had a handful of conversations with Luke, when Beru and Jade were newborns, giving him tips he'd thought had worked. But Mara and Luke were both Force sensitive, and he wondered if that changed Luke's perspective a hell of a lot.

"I told her to try and squash the idea that Beru hates her," Leia said flatly. "Beru wouldn't nurse, and she wouldn't stop crying, ever. I told her if she needed help, ask for it, even if she needed help getting out of bed," Leia murmured. "I don't know if I ever felt what she's feeling, but it got so hard some days," she said. "Still does. And," Leia hesitated, "I told her if Beru doesn't want to nurse, fine, give her a bottle and don't take it personally."

Leia blushed a little, but she looked defiant.

"I can't imagine breastfeeding two at once. I booted Noura when I had Max, and I used to feel bad about it, but," she shrugged. "Noura's fine. And I doubt Beru is going to resent Mara for a bottle if she doesn't want to nurse anyway. You know," Leia ended, "I told her - whatever, within reason, makes motherhood easier and more comfortable for her. You can do that without neglecting the baby. A bottle isn't abuse, anymore than me letting Jaina cry for a minute when I was too stressed and overwhelmed to comfort her was. I am a better mother when I am taking care of myself, too."

Han nodded thoughtfully. Leia shrugged.

"If what I said did help her, I'm glad," she said quietly.

"I bet it did, Sweetheart," Han told her.

She looked up at him, and smiled.

"Girls asleep?" she asked softly.

"Mm-hmm," Han murmured gruffly. "Noura gave me a real mean look when I put her down," he snorted. "Looked just like you for mosta the time we were on Hoth," he teased.

"Oh, dear," Leia gave a mock sigh. "How will I break the news to her that that look failed miserable at dissuading you?"

Han laughed. Max sat up, shifting forward. He reached up at Han, grabbed his shoulders and stood, balancing on Han's lap. He leaned forward, and Han caught him, letting the little boy wrap his arms around his neck and rest his head on his shoulder. He shifted his arms so he was holding him, and started to rub his back. After a moment, Leia lifted her head to check, and nodded.

"He's falling asleep," she said.

She let her head fall.

"I'm going to take Noura out to Padme's grave tomorrow," she said. "I think if I show her the carving, she might be able to understand that's where we got her second name."

Han nodded - sounded like a good idea to him. They also had plans to introduce Max to water here; the lake was a great place to learn how to swim. None of their children expressed any interest in Coruscant's ubiquitous indoor pools, but given them fresh water or salt oceans and they were almost fish.

"Think Jaina had a good time?" he asked.

Leia laughed breathlessly. She nodded.

"She liked the attention - the Alderaanian media was eager to see her," she mused. She sighed. "I hope none of them end up too punch-drunk on notoriety."

Han rested his cheek on Max's head.

"Nah, they won't," he said gruffly. "We're doing' good with 'em," he added smugly.

Leia smiled. She closed her eyes, and Han leaned his head back, repeating the same process with Max that he had with Noura. He held him a little longer to make sure he was good and asleep and then, for lack of anything better to do, kept holding him. He and Leia both tended to always hold Max just a little bit longer, because one day, they'd put him down and never pick him up again - and that would be the end of having young children.

Han clung to their little years gratefully. Every once in a while, he was still amazed this life had happened to him at all - that he'd gone from the orphan street urchin he'd been, to a disgraced Imperial reject - and so on, and so forth. Ending up married to a Princess, who ran the whole galaxy, with three little kids who -as far as he could tell - liked him a whole lot, and thought he was doing a good job...it was nothing he'd ever thought he'd get, and protecting it meant everything to him.

He never once missed the old days, his so-called old life - never once. He had plenty of fun, plenty of challenge, plenty of adventure, right here - and he still had Leia. She had, for so, so long, been all that mattered to him, and she remained that important to him. Their lives were hectic and full of chaos now, and would remain that way as long as the children were under their roof, but when they had let all three of them go, it was still Leia he'd have to hang onto, and keeping their marriage strong was just as important to him as being the best father he possibly could.

His old habits died easy; he lived for the future, for his legacy - not in terms of pride, but in terms of being sure Jaina, Noura, and Max were free in everything they did, and that was an invincible goal.

Leia nudged his shoulder with her nose, yawning.

"Go lay him down," she murmured. "You and I can just sit together."

Han nodded, and sat forward slowly. Leia sat up, leaned over to kiss the back of Max's head, and straightened, pulling the strap of her gown back up and watching as Han carefully took Max into the bedroom to put him down with the girls. Han felt her eyes on him, and found her still watching intently when he came back. He rubbed his shoulder and winced; Max was getting heavier. Leia smiled at the gesture and scooted to the edge of the couch, gesturing in front of her. Eyebrows raised, Han sat down eagerly, accepting her tacit offer of a massage. He leaned back against the sofa, and Leia sat behind him, pooling the skirt of her gown between her thighs and draping her legs over his shoulders. She reached down and began to gently knead the aggravated muscles. Her braid fell over one shoulder and tickled his neck.

Han leaned back into her, giving a soft groan of satisfaction at her touch.

"You r'member when I slept on this couch?" Han asked gruffly, eyes closed as he tilted his head back.

Leia's foot brushed against his ribs lightly.

"I remember," she said softly.

Han shook his head. The one - and only - night he'd slept away from her out of anger. He vividly remembered how disgusted with himself he'd felt the next morning, punishing her like that when he knew she already had trouble sleeping.

"I never did ask you if it was comfortable," she murmured primly.

He shook his head, grimacing. His lashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes, a slow smile drifting across his face. She bent forward and put her hand under his chin, holding his head still to give him a kiss. She nudged his forehead with her nose, then pulled her hand back through his hair and went back to his shoulders. He stared at her contently, clearing his throat.

"You see any Vader in them?" he asked - only a little triumphant.

Leia pursed her lips. She looked up, gazing across the room at the cracked open door to the bedroom. She thought of everything that had led them here, and tilted her head, pensive.

"I think," she began in a whisper, "there is the potential for Vader in all of us."

She licked her lips.

"What I've learned is we choose our own identity," she murmured. "That's the whole damn point. That's what matters."

Han nodded. He closed his eyes, letting his head rest between her legs. He felt as confident as he always did that no one who grew up with Leia as a mother, surrounded by people like Luke and Mara Skywalker, Bail Organa, the Naberries - even Carlist Rieekan and Winter Celchu and Rouge and Evaan and Lando - no one who saw that much diversity and love, that much victory over impossible odds, ran the risk of following in darker footsteps. And - himself, too; he had enough well-earned faith in himself to know he was a good influence.

Leia combed his hair back through her fingers, resting her cheek on his head. She closed her eyes, remembering, yes, the night he'd slept on this couch, and so many other things, too. Her thoughts lingered idly on the memories - not dwelling, but appreciating; the good, and the bad. It was poetic that this was the place they'd fought one of the greatest battles of their relationship, besides perhaps the personal battles they'd fought to have it in the first place, and now Jaina, Max, and Noura slept blissfully in the next room, and she never let Vader, or any other part of her past, dictate her happiness anymore, and Han had long since quit doubting his place at her side, or his potential to be good enough for a better world.

They both know who, and what, they were: they were survivors, and they were free.

the end.

- alexandra

story #374