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Everything’s Gonna Turn Out Alright

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“Aw, come on!” Han cried out, flopping his head against the back of the sofa.

Leia chuckled, watching her husband’s dramatic reaction to the latest episode of The Great Coruscanti Cook Off. “Han, it’s just a show.”

“Oh, like how that nerf soufflé was just a soufflé? That was a masterpiece! Ayla should have made it to the finals!” Han exclaimed. “She was robbed—robbed!”

Leia made a show of rolling her eyes, but her wide grin betrayed her amusement. “I’m sure she’ll be invited back for the Fete special.”

“It’s not the same,” he pouted, flipping through the holo channels until he found an old Nabooan soap opera rerun. “Want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, I’m alright,” she said, swinging her legs off his lap and sitting up so he could leave.

He patted her thigh as he stood. “Junior isn’t hungry?”

She absently rubbed her large stomach. “Not right now. She seems to be on her own time.”

“Just like her mother,” he teased, heading into the kitchen.

Leia barely heard him, continuing to caress her daughter through her belly. She wasn’t as nervous as she was with Ben, him being her first child. But she felt different with the little girl nestled inside her.

Her anxiety wasn’t based in parenting, but rather having a daughter—a little girl coming from her, the woman who never got to be a girl. She closed her eyes, thinking about her own mother—she grew up in nobility, like her mother before her and her mother before her, and raised Leia in much the same way. But this baby girl was going to grow up differently, and it was uncharted territory for her mother.

“Credit for your thoughts?”

Leia’s head jerked up, startled by her husband’s appearance. “They’re worth more than a credit,” she replied automatically.

He cocked his head to the side. “So a nova crystal then.”

“Something like that,” she nodded.

Han sat beside her, swinging her legs back into his lap and rubbing her calves. “Talk to me,” he rumbled.

Leia hummed a little. “We can’t call her Junior forever.”

He nodded. “We did give Ben his name when you were five months along.”

“And now I’m seven months with her . . . She should have a name.”

“Okay . . . Any ideas, princess?”

Leia winced. “Oh, I don’t know—do you have any ideas?”

Han raised an eyebrow. “You? No ideas? Since when?”

She shrugged. “Haven’t thought about it too much.”

He was quiet for a minute. “How about Breha?”

“No,” she replied automatically.

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s my mother’s name, not hers.”

“Well, more than one person can be named Breha, sweetheart.”

“It’s my mother’s name,” she repeated.

He drew patterns on her legs. “Y’know, you haven’t told me much about your mom.”

She feigned innocence. “Haven’t I?”

“Not at all.”

“Huh,” she grunted, playing with the hem of her dress.

Han took her hand and massaged it gently, something that never failed to relax her.

“What was she like?”

A small smile crossed her face. “She was the best mother . . . The Alderaanian people love—loved her, and for good reason. Most noble families had their staff do most of the day to day activities, but Mama was never like that. She insisted on holding me, feeding me, changing me from the moment she brought me home. Mama was an only child and never raised a baby before, but she always dove in head first.”

“Sounds like she loved you.”

“She did. She always made sure I knew that. No matter how busy she was with festivals or diplomatic visits, she always made time to sit with me and talk with me about my day. I never felt second-best or unimportant—I was always her top priority.”

“Everything you could ever want in a mother,” he noted.

“Exactly,” she whispered, a dreamy smile on her face.

They rested in companionable silence, passively watching the soap opera.

“Why wouldn’t you want to name our daughter after someone so remarkable?” Han asked his wife softly.

Leia looked up at him with her big brown eyes. “Breha was a queen, raised into nobility like every other woman in our family before her. I can’t put that kind of pressure on our child.”

“But she was also a loving mother and devoted wife—a good person. Like you.”

She shook her head. “Mama—Breha was part of my old life. The part that died when Alderaan exploded.”

Han’s jaw twitched and he tightened his grip on her legs. “Old life, new life—those are not real things. You can’t pretend the past didn’t happen, no matter how much you want to.”

Leia swallowed hard. “I want to just . . . move on. Put the past behind me. Keep it in my memories.”

“But your past is what led you to who you are today. The way Bail and Breha raised you . . . You are a strong, capable leader with a kind heart. One of the best people I know. All the values you were raised with, the ones you displayed while we were blowin’ things up during the war, the ones you’re making sure Ben has, that’s what you’ll give our daughter.”

Her eyes had welled with tears. “I’m scared,” she choked. “I don’t know how to do this—I want to raise her Alderaanian, like my mother raised me and her mother raised her, but there’s no Alderaan.”

“Yes there is,” he murmured. “In you and the other survivors. In the memorials and the traditions. And in our children.”

Leia took a deep shuddering breath. “What if I don’t live up to having a Breha?”

“Not possible,” Han replied simply.

She stroked her belly, feeling her daughter wiggle around inside her. “Breha,” she whispered.

Han smiled softly, rubbing her calf.

“I still want her to have her own identity, though,” she murmured. “What if we called her Rey?”

“Rey,” he rumbled. “That’s her name.”

“Rey,” she smiled.

“MOMMY!!!!”

Han and Leia looked towards the door. Ben and Luke had just returned from their uncle-nephew play date, and Leia barely had enough time to open her arms before her three year old son bounded into them.

“Hello, my love,” she cooed. “How was your day?”

“Fun!” He cheered, crawling up to hug his daddy.

Han hugged him tightly, kissing his hair. “Hey womprat?”

“Yah?” He asked

“Mommy and I came up with a name for your baby sister and we wanted to run it by you.”

“Okay!” Ben grinned. Luke took a seat on the couch, curious to what they were going to say.

“What do you think of Rey?” Leia asked her son.

“Wey!” He lit up like a Fete tree and rubbed her stomach. “Hi Wey!”