Small Things

Rating: Kid-friendly

Spoilers: Through RotS

Summary: It was the small things that made Bail's life worthwhile.

There were times when Bail Organa doubted his idea to adopt the daughter of Anakin Skywalker. Most of the time, Leia was a loveable creature who was the absolute joy of hs life. But there was still that quarter of the time when her shrieks could be heard throughout the palace--when he'd gladly turn her over to her father and the Emperor to raise.

He wondered sometimes if Obi-Wan had the same issues with Luke, but knew it was too dangerous to ask. Breha's untimely death just a year ago didn't help matters. Neither did the fact that Breha made him promise to find another mother for Leia. His daughter had already lost her first two mothers. He wasn't sure she needed to lose another. And there was the matter of his pride. He was convinced that he could raise a little girl as well as any woman could. Except that not every little girl was a force-sensitive four year old who had inherited both her mother's passion and her father's strong will, in addition to a refusal to listen to anyone.

"Dadd-EE!" Leia shrieked as she ran into his study. The latest nanny was only steps behind her. He'd tried every nanny-droid available in the galaxy, but none had been able to keep up with his little girl. The palace staff took bets on how long each nanny would last. Few made it longer than two weeks.

"What is it, Leia-bee?" He scooped her up in his arms, settling her in his lap.

"Can I help you with work?" She looked at his datapad, trying to work out the words on the screen. "I'm good at writing speeches. I wrote a speech for Nanny Bo yesterday, 'cept she didn't like it."

Bail ran his free hand through his daughter's light brown hair. A few people commented about Leia's porcelin skin and lighter coloring. Both he and Breha were both dark. But the entire castle, and most of Alderaan, also knew about the problems he and Breha were having conceiving a child. The cancer that had eaten away at her insides had made it impossible for her to carry a child. At least no one questioned his motive for adopting Leia or where she came from. She was obviously a child of exceptional breeding—when she behaved.

"Why don't you tell me your speech? Maybe I can incorporate it into the one I have to give to the Imperial Senate tomorrow," Bail encouraged, stroking her hair.

Leia settled against his chest, her cheek leaning against the front of his tunic. "It's about how princesses don't have to take naps 'cause they're too old," she replied with a yawn.

Bail waved Nanny Bo off, knowing this was one more childcare aid he'd have to cross off his list.

"And what are your supporting arguments?" he asked gently, reaching out to scribble an idea on his datapad while he held Leia close with his other hand.

"Princesses who are four are too old for naps," Leia replied with a yawn. "'Cause they're too old, and they don't have to listen to other..." A soft snore completed the sentence.

Bail looked down at the little girl in his arms, wondering if he was going about this all wrong.

"I can't give her another mother," he murmured to Breha's ears, wondering if her spirit was somewhere to hear him. "But I can be a better father and govern her the best way I know how."

As if she knew what he was talking about, Leia snuggled in closer as she slept.