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Naboo, of all places, had never been a sight Leia thought capable of making her feel sick to her stomach. It was her home planet, and a beautiful one at that, not like Tatooine — the dustball her father had originated from and where her Aunt Beru still stayed for some reason the force could only know — or even worse, Han’s home-world, Corellia.
But that was exactly the problem, wasn’t it? Corellia and Tatooine. Similar in only the most awful and stubborn ways. The very reason her gut was twisting into knots.
On Naboo, her father waited to greet her, and here she was, flying in on her boyfriend’s ship.
Han was not a new boyfriend by any means. For force sake, he’d met her mother! They’d been together for years — or at least, Leia thought it had been years, the lines were very, very blurry in the beginning — and all the way through it Han had been very adamant about the fact that he would prefer not to hang around her father. Her father shared the sentiment, though Han seemed more afraid and Anakin more, well, doing the scaring.
When she’d recently been invited home to celebrate her mother’s birthday, though, Han had insisted on going with her.
“It’s not too late to back out, yknow,” Leia told him again as he landed the Falcon on the Skywalker family’s personal docking bay at the lake house. “You can just wait in the ship. Though you’ll be alone, they all want to see Chewie.”
“He’s always been more popular than me,” Han glared at the Wookiee beside him, who only shrugged at the comment. Leia would’ve laughed, but she’d learned the lesson long ago that Han may or may not take genuine offense, depending on the day. “But I’m still coming. I need to wish your mom a happy birthday, and I even brought her a gift!”
Leia and Chewie shared a suspicious glance. Han loved Leia’s mother, that had been clear ever since the two first met and only parted after a hug that lasted long enough for even Chewie to grow impatient (and Chewie is very patient, he’s best friends with Han Solo, he has to be). That being said, Han is a notoriously bad gift giver. He’s given Leia her own clothes for her birthday before — “I thought it was Lando’s!” — and he’s given Chewie socks for the last three life days. Human sized socks. Wookiee’s feet do not fit human socks. That’s not even to mention the time he had suggested Leia bring Anakin to Scarif for a birthday getaway. Her father on the beach, could you imagine!
It didn’t help that Han let absolutely no one see the gift he’d gotten for Padmé. He kept it wrapped in some grease stained cloth that was as of now poking out of his jacket pocket. Leia tried to snatch it from him, but his hand flew over it instantly, keeping her from getting it.
“Force sensitive my ass,” He sneered at her as he got out of his seat, his hand still protecting the package. “Luke could’ve gotten that!”
“Why don’t we call him here and find out!” She yelled back, as if anyone had ever been scared of Luke, and followed him out of the ship.
—
Han had ran to give Padmé a hug before Leia even could, but no one really minded. Leia thought it was sweet how much Han loved her mother, and even Anakin didn’t pay mind to it as he embraced his daughter — he may be suspicious of the boy, but he also wasn’t about to be critical of such a nice gesture.
Leia couldn’t exactly blame her father for being critical of Han. To be fair, it had been him and Luke who’d first encountered him. Han had worked with seedy beings of all species, but he had only entered Luke and Anakin’s radar when he’d began to unknowingly deal with Sith. In Han’s defense, he had no idea they were Sith, or what Sith even were — there had been no mention of shadowy figures with red laser swords in the Corellian curriculum, but there’d also been no school — and had he known he “probably wouldn’t of spent so much time around them, jeez”. It also seemed Han had no idea the Shyriiwook word for Sith, as it had been Chewie who’d contacted the Jedi for help in the first place.
Luke had shown up on official Jedi business, Anakin had just been bored, and while the two argued about who had authority, Han had managed to escape. That had led them on a wild Bantha chase for almost three whole moon cycles, before finding Han and his trusty co-pilot in a ditch with several lightsaber inflicted wounds.
Luke had brought them back to Naboo to be treated, knowing the council would be critical of their crimes if he brought them anywhere else. Anakin had even repaired the Falcon “in exchange for information” as he said, though Leia, Luke, and Padmé all agreed that there was no way in Mustafar Anakin Skywalker would ever pass up the opportunity to help someone and work on a ship at the same time.
After Han and Chewie’s full recoveries and a lot of late night talks between the two, Han had reluctantly agreed to Luke and Padmé’s suggested terms, and the two joined the Republic fleet as a personal pilot and escort for Leia. A senator did need one, Padmé had told her, and from that point on it was history.
Now, for the first time since Han’s stay all those years ago, Anakin saw him again. But unlike the rest of the Skywalker family, Anakin had not yet gotten the chance to become acquainted with Han as more than a smuggling criminal.
“Han,” Anakin said, reaching out a hand for the other man to take. Leia rolled her eyes behind him, noting how her father had deepened his voice to address him.
“Mr. Skywalker,” Han replied, also with a very, very fake voice, and now Leia couldn’t help but snicker along with Chewiee, her mother using her queenly talents to hold back from laughing too, but she still cracked a smile. Han looked to the three of them with panicked eyes, as if to say, “Could you not right now?!?”
“Let’s all go inside, then, shall we,” Padmé suggested, linking her arm with Anakin’s and giving Han’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
—
Seeing as it was Padmé’s birthday, Anakin had made lunch. Or, Threepio did while Anakin supervised. The droid had made five blossom bread, Shaak roast, and had included a very large assortment of fruits as well.
Han took a seat between Leia and Chewie, doing his best to avoid about a dozen mouse droids that zoomed across the floor.
“How do you all avoid these things?”
“You’re just clumsy,” Chewie told him, and he scrunched up his face in offense.
“They just seem more trouble than their worth,” Han grumbled, and Padmé gave him a warm smile.
“I modified every single one,” Anakin explained, beaming proudly at one of the droids as it banged particularly hard into Han’s foot, making him jump.
“It was that or a thousand Loth cats,” Padmé sighed, bringing a piece of shuura fruit to her mouth.
“How’s your ship, Han?” Anakin asked, pointing his fork at the boy as he spoke, an action that both Leia and Padmé cringed at but Han didn’t take much notice to.
“Good, actually,” Han smiled. He’d really appreciated Anakin fixing his ship, and he’d even admit it went a bit faster after the repairs. “Still the fastest you’ve seen.”
“I don’t know about that,” Anakin spoke suspiciously, as if he was getting at something. “I’ve been working on my old fighter, yknow.”
“You two aren’t racing on my birthday,” Padmé stopped the two firmly, and Leia agreed with a nod.
“Padmé..” Anakin whined, but she gave him a glare strong enough to shut him up. Han frowned, at least he knew where Leia got that talent from.
—
As the sky outside darkened, they gathered around the fire for Padmé to open gifts. Luke had holocalled, apologizing for his absence. It was a fair one, at least, as he was with Ahsoka exterminating a few slavers that had been found hiding out on Jakku. Leia and Padmé’s support of the a new bill had made slavery just as illegal in the outer rim as it was in the inner and mid planets, but some still stuck around. Everyone knew Anakin itched to be with them, but he also had complete faith in his son and former padawan.
Leia had given her mother a stunning pearl necklace, each gem caught by hand on Mon Cala. Chewie had crafted a set of embroidery needles made from the wroshyr wood of Kashyyyk. Embroidery was a staple of Naboo culture, especially for mothers and grandmothers, and had become one of Padmé’s favorite hobbies since her semi-retirement (her nor Anakin could never truly retire).
When they turned to Anakin to see his gift, he’d whistled — quite weakly, as it wasn’t quite his talent — and two, small birds came flying in. Upon closer inspection from Han, who’d gotten so close it’s wing had almost cut the bridge of his nose, the birds were made of metal, and only about the size of Leia’s thumb. They were gorgeous little things, that chirped happily and danced around them all, before finally landing in Padmé’s hair and clasping back the two loose hanging braids she’d worn.
“I know how much you love extravagant hair pieces,” Anakin smiled, and Padmé pressed a kiss against his lips happily.
Finally, it was Han’s turn. With shaky hands he’d pulled the crinkly package from his jacket pocket, more than a bit nervous to be going after such a spectacular show.
He handed it over to Padmé, and if she was put off by the disappointing looking package she didn’t show it one bit. She carefully unwrapped it as if it were covered in gold paper.
“Oh, Han, it’s wonderful!” She exclaimed, admiring the present. It was a fantastic little pin, which pictured Shiraya, the moon goddess of Naboo. Han had obviously crafted it himself, but it didn’t take away from how finely it was made.
“I remember all you told me about her,” Han explained sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She’s beautiful and has become quite special to me.”
“I’m glad,” Padmé said as she clipped the pin to her dress. “Shiraya has always watched over me, and I’m sure she’s watching over you too.”
To everyone’s surprise, Anakin nodded in agreement. “You don’t get to be such a good pilot without some celestial goddess on your side.”