Apologies for the delay. Here's 4500 words to make up for it!

Two

She'd been snuggled in his lap for a little while, playing with a thread on her nightgown as he did his best to comb through her damp hair and arrange it into something like the nighttime braids Leia usually kept it in, when she said it, voice all soft and anxious, "… My mama has a mad at me…"

"What're you talkin' about, cutie?" he said, frowning as he tried to work through a particularly rough tangle.

"My mama has a mad at me…" she confessed again, burrowing tighter against him.

"She's not mad at you, no way. What makes you say that?"

"'Cause she not my hair… go sleep… my mama no do story…"

"Nah, she's just tired, baby," he assured her.

"Yes'day aussi. An' yes'day's yes'day."

"Yesterday too, huh? Well, you know she's been workin' real hard…"

Lynnie seemed to consider that, frowning a little, then shook her head. "No uppies," she whispered, twirling the string more insistently, shifting on his lap.

"Hmm?"

"…no go up… my mama…"

He nodded slowly. "Your mama's not picking you up?"

"Wanna go up my mama. Par'que je l'aime…"

"Yeah, I know, I love her too."

"Why she has mad?"

"Nah, she ain't mad, I promise – seriously, she isn't, don't worry…"

He stroked her hair, frowning, and tried to tickle her lightly into a smile, but he could tell she wasn't joking – she stayed nuzzled up against him, looking down, her lower lip trembling. "Je veux my mama…"

"She's just sleepy, I promise… hey…"

"Je veux… my m-m-mama…"

"Hey! Hey, don't get upset, don't get upset… she's not mad at you, I promise… hey…"

"My m-m-mama…" She wasn't full-on crying, but there were definitely tears, trembling a little – but when he went to hug her she wrestled away, her face red and anxious: "My mama, veux my mama!"

"Hey! Little hurtful, sweetie – hey-hey, Lynnie, lookit me. Hey. Hey." He held her hands and gave her a genuine smile. "Hey. She's not mad, I promise. I swear."

She blinked through more tears, peering at him and holding tight onto his thumbs. "Veux…"

"Listen. I know she's been a little grumpier and a little more tired… but I promise, she's not mad at you, okay?"

Hiccuping and whimpering: "Has mad – veux my – mad…"

"Hey-hey-hey. Don't – hey, no, don't be sad." He reached out to brush away some of the tears and tickled under her chin, suddenly desperate to see her smile – he couldn't let her think Leia was mad, right, he couldn't – but she swatted his hand away. "Listen. C'I tell you a lil secret? Gotta promise not to tell anyone."

"Secwet?" she whispered, a little intrigued, her hiccups fading a bit.

"She's not mad. Alright? She's just tired 'cause––" Surely Leia would understand, right? They were keeping this to themselves to avoid hurting her if, as Leia put it, something went sour – and if now this was hurting her – well, surely she'd never want her to hurt… right? He smoothed Lynnie's raggedy braids and smiled at her gently, for once the one a little shy. Thinking please, please let this be okay… please be happy, please let this make you happy like it's done to me. He took a breath and smiled again nervously. "She's just tired 'cause she's gonna have a baby soon, baby. Okay?"

For a moment everything was still, other than the sound of her hiccups. And then that voice, very soft and a little suspicious: "Baby?"

"Mhm. S'growin' in her belly so it takes a lot of energy, s'why she can't lift you up and all. So she's not mad, see? She's not mad at you."

Lynnie's voice was very skeptical now. "Belly?" she demanded suspiciously.

He laughed a little, returning to her hair, pleased that at least the tears had been averted for now. "Yeah, sort of crazy, right? But it'll be a baby – a brother or sister, for you to play with. You'll like that, wontcha?"

She peered at him a little anxiously, weighing the scenario with seriousness. "Maybe… – my Mama?"

"Your Mama, yep. And you will, I promise. It'll be weird at first but… well, s'not for a while now anyway. So you've got a lotta time to get used to the idea – we all do."

"Used to?"

"Used to a new baby. Or, the idea of a new baby – and then an actual baby, I guess… listen, you can't tell your mam I told you, alright? Our secret?"

"My Mama baby?"

"Your Mama, uh-huh."

"My Mama baby is belly."

"In her belly, yeah – well sort of, I guess, if ya wanna get technical it's like in her – s'like a pocket, sort of – that girls – women – well, anyway. It's complicated. When you're older."

"Pocket."

"Sure, let's call it that – s'gonna be our secret though, okay? When your Mama tells you you gotta act real surprised. Alright? 'Cause I told ya a little early, 'cause you're just so damn cute and persuasive… Okay?"

"Otay Daddy," she said, smiling shyly at him.

"Okay, so let's practice. Pretend I'm your mam, alright?"

"No-o, tu silly––"

"I know, I know, she's gorgeous an' has all that pretty hair, it's a little far-fetched, just go with it. And I – your mam, imagine me as pretty as her, alright? What's it you're always – joli? – and okay, I say to you, guess what, sweetie? You're going to have a little brother or sister. Now what do you say? You gotta act all surprised, alright? So what do you do?"

Lynnie seemed to pause and contemplate for a moment. And then she was up, leaping forward and throwing her arms around his neck, kissing the side of his face over and over and giggling and squealing. "Ma-ma! Je t'ai-aime!"

As he laughed and caught her and tickled her he found himself thinking back to what he'd done when she'd told him – hadn't exactly thrown his arms around her and kissed her, to be sure, though she'd also said it with a voice that was more well-shit than anything else, her face twisted into an ironic little smile, her whole body tense – I can't believe I'm saying this, Han, but I think I might be pregnant (followed up by I don't know what to do Han, I really don't even know what to say, how could we possibly have let this happen, I am so furious with myself I can barely speak) – what had he done, had he raised his eyebrows and said that so and asked her, slow and deliberately unreadable, what she wanted to do? Made sense at the time – what being a grownup was, being cautious, thinking about things from every angle. To walk with trepidation, consider all sides.

What it meant to be a kid, to be Leia's kid – responding to the possibility of brother or sister by throwing your arms around your mam and squealing – unambiguous excitement and joy and surprise, disbelief – a baby, there? My Mama, a baby? Because it was a bit shocking, when you thought about it – nothing into something, a puking princess into a plus sign into a heartbeat you could hear. Because their kid didn't yet know how to worry, didn't know how to be anything but ecstatic. Because any child of Leia's, found on the furthest edge of the galaxy or from inside of her, was probably a child worth jumping and hugging over. When was the last time he'd hugged her like that?

"Okay, okay, but listen, ya gotta be careful, alright? 'Cause your mam's a bit more delicate now, with the baby inside and all. So, you and me can keep on as always but you've gotta be more gentle with her. You got that?"

"Gentle my Mama parce que my baby, mhm."

"C'you show me gentle?"

"Ye-es." She gave him a very exaggeratedly soft hug, her movements slow and sleepy and smiley. "Maaaamaaaa," she whispered, giggling a little at the charade. "I lo-ove you…"

"Good. She loves you even more, sweetie." He ruffled her hair a little, grinning. "And I think you're alright, too."

"Daddy tu est alwight too," she said, completely serious, looking up at him.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it."

The next morning, Han got Lynnie up himself, both to let Leia sleep in a bit and also to remind her of what they talked about. It turned out, of course, that he didn't need to remind her: the very first thing she said – after stretching her arms out adorably and yawning, her little nighttime braids bouncing – was "Daddy I my baby now? Play sih-plait go is draw?"

Han laughed, shushing her and tickling her and thereby undermining the shushing. "She's still in your mama's pocket, silly. And remember, secret, right? Our secret?"

She frowned at him as he scooped her out of the bed. "Mama know is pocket?"

"No yeah, Mama knows about the baby, Mama just doesn't know you know. And we're gonna keep it that way, right? So Daddy doesn't get in trouble, huh?"

"No trouble Daddy," Lynnie said urgently, lifting up her arms so he could help her out of her nightgown.

"Yeah, I don't want trouble either, kiddo."

"Be good otay?" she said worriedly as he got her into her dress for the day. "No is trouble."

"Yeah Lyn," Han promised her, laughing, "I'll be good, don't worry about me."

As he fixed her breakfast, Han listened to Lynnie sing-song to herself in her shy little whisper, kicking her legs eagerly: "baby-j'taime-my-mama-my-mama…" He felt that feeling in him again, surging, like yesterday: pure, unadulterated joy. Joy he hadn't felt like he had really gotten to express about the new baby because of all of Leia's fears, her insistence on keeping this under wraps as much as possible, her anxieties about miscarrying he knew were based on all of Breha's even though that didn't make much sense. And his own anxieties that were feeding off of Leia's: about how he'd just felt like Lynnie was starting to really, truly trust him unconditionally, about how just because he could do one kid didn't mean he'd be good with two, about how fragile babies were, about Leia's health. How good it felt, how perfect, to watch someone be just purely happy about a baby, their baby – yes it was something be excited about, yes it was something good – good, and right, and happy. Like Lynnie knew something they didn't.

And then Leia strode into the room, rubbing her eyes and skimming a datapad, muttering in Alderaanian about running late – so wrapped up in her frustration that she practically tripped over the toddler who'd been waiting for her for twenty minutes with an especially shining smile and who immediately wrapped her arms around Leia's legs. "B'jour, Mama," she said, her voice almost reverent, planting a kiss on each of her mother's knees.

"Oh, hi baby, good morning – hi, hi…" she murmured, bending down to kiss the top of her head absentmindedly. "Mm, you're very affectionate today, that's very sweet – do you have the things for your hair? We'll have to be quick… are you excited to come into work with me today?"

"That today?" Han asked, trying to hide his panic.

"Yes-yes-yes, Bring Your Daughter To Work Day, my favorite holiday as a child, I said so in every relevant class assignment, because I loved to mess with my father's staff – and now it's my favorite once again you know, because now I get to bring you to my work to mess with my staff – let me go get those hair things."

"I do it, otay? Mama go sit. D'accord?"

"Oh! That's sweet…? But I can do it 'loved, just go get the bands and things."

"Mama sit s'il vous plaît."

Lynnie eagerly kissed her knees again, three times, and ran off to get her hair things as Leia sat down at the table to return to her work. She was so consumed in it, actually, that it took her a few moments to realize Lynnie had returned, sitting down across from her and just sort of staring at her with enormous, loving, awestruck eyes. What she'd whispered to him last night, over and over into his ear as he tried to put her to bed, and at least three times again this morning, tugging on his pants leg and whispering kinda shy: My mama? Dans son ventre? My mama really? My mama?

"'Loved! You startled me – do you need something?"

Lynnie blinked at her and blushed, sucking on her fingers and looking frantically at Han. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head just a bit, brought a finger to his lips – could a toddler pick up on decently subtle cues? More importantly, could this toddler? I don't want to tell her until everything is absolutely solidly safely along, until we've really thought about the perfect way to explain it, until we're certain it won't cause any upset…

"Nuh-uh."

"Then why are you staring at me? It's not very polite…"

"'Cause… 'cause. 'Cause-'cause. Je… t'…aime…!"

She was already distracted again, trying to fight off nausea and keep a piece of fruit down while catching up on work. "Oh… that's nice… I love you too, precious. Are you – you must be very excited to be coming to work with me today, aren't you dear? Now come here, I need that comb and I need that very beautiful hair. Thank you. Now. Braids or buns?"

Lynnie was just as loving and obsessive at Leia's work, following her around doggedly and eagerly, trying valiantly to push open doors for her and offering to take her notes. (Because Lynnie could not write, naturally, this mostly resulted in many, many diligent scribbles.) "Mama tu joli. Mama je t'aime," she kept insisting, grabbing her hand and kissing it until Leia had to pull it away and pet Lynnie's hair, asking with an amused smile, "What's gotten into you, darling?"

"No is in me Mama!" she insisted back, blinking at her.

"You're such a silly girl. Are you worried I'm going to forget?"

"Mama forget?"

"Forget that you love me? Are you thinking perhaps that you need to keep reminding me that you love me? I promise I always remember. Always," she assured, stroking her face, poking her dimple and grinning.

"No is… slip away in my head 'cause… playing or… or – or stories or… and then is 'member and gotta say. 'Cause… gotta is know sih-plait Mama? Know otay? Gotta je t'aime je'taime," Lynnie insisted, chewing on her sleeve.

"Well. I love you too, silly girl, so very much," Leia assured her, smiling a little confusedly. Lynnie scrambled up into her lap, and she winced just slightly, bringing her fingers to her lips and grimacing. "Oh – honey, I'm so sorry – I think I need to use the 'fresher – give me one second. Let me just go find someone to mind you…" She set Lynnie down on her desk chair and slipped out of the office for a second.

"Mama! Where is go!" Lynnie called worriedly.

"To the 'fresher and to find you a minder, don't worry darling. Carlist?" she called, before popping back into the office, Carlist Riekken in tow. "Lynnie, you remember General Riekken – Carlist, would you mind watching her for just a second? I'm just going to head to the 'fresher, I'm sorry, my stomach's been acting up… Je reviens tout de suite, 'loved. Be good now."

She kissed Lynnie's hair and rushed out; Lynnie, in turn, stuck her thumb in her mouth and peered up at him. He shuffled slightly, smiling at her – Leia's daughter, Bail Organa's granddaughter, her hair in a messy approximation of revolutionary buns. Thinking about Bail Organa struggling to wrangle little Leia's hair into braids, remembering giving Bail advice based on his efforts on his own daughters' hair – tiny elastics, he remembered suggesting, you need those teeny-tiny elastics. Did Leia remember?

"Are you enjoying visiting your Mama's work?" he asked gently in Alderaanian, and the girl widened her eyes at him, shocked and delighted.

"From where I is from…?" she whispered, hushed and thrilled.

"Mhm, I'm from Alderaan as well," he said, giving her another warm smile.

"Talk like my Mama et moi."

"Well, I should think so. We speak the same language, after all. We're one people."

"My Mama est tres joli…"

"She is, she is very pretty. And very smart, too. Just got a promotion, moving up in the world. You've got a great role model in her."

"Je l'aime…"

"Yes, I can tell. And she loves you very much as well, you know."

"I like talk like my Mama. 'Cause special."

"It is, it's very special."

"My baby is talk Alderaan?" she couldn't help but ask.

"… pardon?"

"When is come out my mama's pocket – parce que my Daddy no is talk but my Mama is et also I talk special aussi…"

"When – your baby––?"

"My Mama's baby… dans her pocket…"

He looked at her for a second, then asked, tilting his head to the side, "Is your Mama going to have a baby, Lynnie? Is that right?"

Lynnie nodded blithely, then asked again, "Talk is me et Mama et tu?"

"Well," Carlist began, smiling broadly. "I think if you talk to him or her enough, they're sure to pick it up. In fact…"

He was deep into an explanation, enrapturing Lynnie, when Leia returned, sipping mint tea she'd fetched and looking a bit worn. "I'm glad you two hit it off," she said, raising her eyebrows, then letting out an "Oof! Careful!" when Lynnie raced to her and hugged her legs, kissing her knees again.

"It was lovely as always, Miss Lynnie," Carlist said warmly, then he squeezed Leia's shoulder. "And, Princess – I'm sure we'll discuss further later, and I do have to hurry off to a meeting, but – congratulations!"

She blinked at him, smiling but confused. "Pardon?"

"I just found out – congrats!" he said again, grinning, before rushing out.

"You hadn't heard? Oh – thank you!" she called afterwards. "I suppose – the promotion – well. Well. We should probably go stop by and say hi to my assistant… I share her so the office is down the hall – are you up for an adventure, my love?"

Lynnie hugged her mother's legs. "Tu is go?"

"Come with me – we'll go exploring."

"I stay here d'accord?"

"You're such a funny little thing – c'mon now, don't be so shy. Don't you want to meet some of your mama's friends?"

"I fwiend."

"Of course you are, honey."

"Et daddy et mon oncle Luke Skywalker."

"Surely I'm entitled to more friends than that, yes? And I think some of them brought their own little girls – you could play with them?"

Lynnie shifted a little, weighing the option. "I pway you otay?"

"Okay. You and I can just play too. But we are going to go just walk down the hall to see Kirin, I know she has better castle-construction tools than I do here."

"… I go amis?"

"We can bring your amis too, yes. Deal?"

"… oui."

They inched down the hall that way, Lynnie taking slow, nervous steps, insisting on walking in front of her mother while holding her hand as if her little guard pup, her other thumb firmly in her mouth with one of her amis tucked in her elbow. "I go first. See otay," she insisted in a small but forceful whisper, her eyes determined, as Leia flashed some looks of apology at the harried staffers trying to move quickly around them.

A pause, though, for the group clumped in the hallway: one of Leia's close friends, Amilyn Holdo, whose wife worked in Leia's department and who had brought in their infant daughter to visit. "Amilyn!" Leia cried, beaming and hugging her, only for Lynnie to firmly insert herself in front of Leia's legs like a line of defense, interrupting the hug protectively. "Oof – Amilyn, you remember Lynnie – honey, come on," Leia said, squatting down and laughing a little. "What're you doing?"

"…nothin' otay? No is trouble."

"I know you're not in trouble, you're just being rather standoffish – you remember Amilyn? My friend? She has a name like yours, remember? Like you and your amis – amis… lyn…"

Lynnie held her grip on Leia's leg and shook her head as Amilyn laughed.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's been like this all day," Leia said graciously.

"Protective little squirt, huh?" Amilyn laughed, smiling warmly.

"No squirt," Lynnie whispered into Leia's knee.

"What's that, darling?"

"No is squirt. Girl."

"She wants you to know that she's not a squirt, she's a girl," Leia translated, trying to stifle her giggles. "Anyway – let me see her – oh, she's so sweet…" she marveled politely, smiling at the baby.

"Here, you should hold her."

"Oh no – that's okay… I'm no good with babies…"

"What! You can deal with Imperial warlords but you're 'no good with babies'?"

"I'm really not, they instantly begin to cry when they see me, I think it's the hair… here, we've been walking awfully slow, why don't I go grab the things I need from Kirin's office myself, and you can wait here, Lyn. Huh? D'accord? Attends ici, je reviens tout de suite. You can watch her for just a minute, Ami, right?"

Amilyn agreed easily, and before Lynnie could protest, her mother was striding quickly down the hall, gliding in that cool, perfect way of hers, like something from another time and place. Sometimes she thought her mother was an angel, except angels weren't really real, or maybe they were, it was a very complicated question.

"You don't have to talk to me at all," Amilyn was assuring her. "But would you like to say hi to my baby? She's not much of a conversationalist but she's very sweet."

"Hi baby?"

"Mhm, here," Amilyn said, and she picked her up so Lynnie was standing on the edge of the stroller, Amilyn holding her in place. "Can you see?"

"Oui," Lynnie whispered. "I see."

"Say hi? See, she's awake – look, she's looking at you."

"Hi baby," Lynnie whispered, and when the baby gurgled a bit and stuck out her tongue, she gasped, scandalized. "Is do spit!"

"Yeah, she gets away with it 'cause she's a baby… Pretty silly huh?"

"Silly… baby… hi…" Lynnie whispered, and she plucked her amis from her elbow and waved it gently by the baby's feet. "Hi is my amis otay? Hi!"

The baby laughed, and Lynnie whipped her head around again in shock. "Is laugh! I go – et is laugh!"

"Yep, she thinks you're pretty funny I guess."

"My baby is laugh?"

"What's that, hon?"

"My baby do laugh and spit?" Lynnie asked, blinking up at her.

"Your baby – s'this your baby?" Amilyn asked, pointing to the ragged stuffed animal.

"No-o – c'est mes amis – my baby…"

"Where's your baby? Is she at home?"

"My baby est in pocket."

"She's in your pocket?"

"Mama pocket et small," Lynnie confessed. "Et do spit et laugh?"

"Your mama's pocket? How's she fit a baby in there, silly?"

"Dans belly," Lynnie explained, exasperated, just as her mother returned, and then it finally clicked and Amilyn hugged her friend tightly and laughed, "Not good with babies! You fiend! Leia!"

"Ah – why exactly am I a fiend?" Leia asked, smiling uncertainly.

"This is so perfect – they can alternate clothes, you can give this one Lynnie's hand-me-downs and then I'll return them to you… I'd offer you my maternity things but I think the height different can't be overcome – you are such a little snake, oh, I'm no good with infants – Leia Organa!"

"I – I really – who told you that?" Leia asked frantically.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry – if you'd wanted me to know, you would've told me, I know, but you're too private for your own good sometimes – don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"No I – I mean – how did you…" Leia frowned, looking at her friend seriously. "How did you find out?"

"Little Miss my baby in my mama's pocket in her belly over here gave it away," Amilyn said. "Don't be too hard on her for spilling – I pulled it out of her, it's all my fault."

"I… what?" In a second she was squatting down, peering at Lynnie worriedly. "Lynnie? Why did you tell mama's friend that I'm going to have a baby?"

"… no trouble," Lynnie said from around her thumb, which she'd shoved into her mouth nervously.

"You're not in trouble – I just am trying to – who told you that, darling?"

"… no trouble Daddy otay?"

"Ah," Leia said, standing back up. "Looks like she and Han had a little chat without my having been told. If you don't mind, I'm just – I'm going to go sort this out. We'll catch up soon?"

"Of course," Amilyn said, smiling a little. "Good luck."

Back in Leia's office, Leia sat cross-legged on the floor wearing a contemplative expression, Lynnie hugging her waist urgently and whispering small apologies. "You're not in trouble, honey, I'm not mad at you," Leia promised, stroking her hair. "No one's mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong."

"No trouble?" she whispered, peeling her face away from Leia's blouse.

"No trouble. None. Listen to me. I'm just worried about you. I'm worried about how you'll take to all these changes."

"No change?"

"No – I mean things will change, I just worry it's too much, too fast – I worry you need more stability. I worry… I worry about so much, darling," she confessed, sighing. "I worry about so, so much."

"I no worry otay?"

"Liar," Leia said playfully. "You're just like me, you worry all the time!"

"I no worry," Lynnie repeated, but she sighed and laid down on the rug, resting her cheek on Leia's thigh. "Mama?"

"Yes dear."

"… my baby."

"Uh-huh," Leia replied distractedly, sighing again.

Lynnie frowned, then picked up her stuffed animal. In a quiet whisper, she sing-songed "Doo-doo-doo, go-is-laugh, go-is-play, my-baby-sih-plait-et-small…" and waved the tattered thing back and forth in front of Leia's abdomen.

"Whatcha doing, 'loved?" Leia asked, squinting a little in confusion.

"No is laugh," Lynnie declared, frowning. "Baby is laugh no is laugh."

"What?"

"Baby is laugh… doo-doo-doo…" She waved the toy again. "No is laugh? Ha-ha-ha?"

Leia blinked, then laughed herself, feeling suddenly, vividly emotional. "Amilyn's baby. Amilyn's baby laughed when you – no honey, if it laughed you wouldn't be able to hear her because she's all deep inside here, remember?"

"Oh. Is laugh inside?"

"I don't know," Leia said, unable to stop herself from beaming. "Maybe."

"I do otay?"

"Okay."

"Doo-doo-doo… tu-play-moi… my-baby… je-t'a-ime…"

There was something about it – how she looked so earnestly and eagerly right at her abdomen, how she sang with such quiet seriousness, how she offered up her favorite friend without hesitation – that made so much fear evaporate off of Leia like puddles after rain – leaving everything so clean and bright.

"You're my baby," Leia insisted, scooping Lynnie up into her arms and hugging her tightly. "You're my baby, my baby."

"Deux!"

"Two babies, my apologies – that's correct. You're a very good counter."

"My baby et my baby is deux is."

"Yes, that's right," Leia said, marveling at that unexpected sum. "Two."

#

Love to you all!