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“It looks good on you.”
Leia gave Amilyn an exasperated look.
Today was the anniversary of the first day that the two of them had met, pathfinding their way down a mountain. Not that they’d been immediate friends – they’d both had biases about the other that they’d had to overcome – but still, when Amilyn had wanted to commemorate the day, Leia had acquiesced. Though had she known that she would end up where she was now, coated in splotches of powdery white flour, she might not have been so amenable.
They had been trying to bake kaancha cookies, an Alderaanian delicacy similar to shortbread which Leia remembered fondly from childhood. The only ingredient missing was a special spice native only to Alderaan and - to their knowledge – not grown anywhere else in the galaxy. Leia had initially been resistant to what she considered “wasting precious resources,” but Amilyn had worn her down. What neither of them had realized, was what horrible bakers they were – though to the last Leia would insist that it was because of their primitive cooking set-up.
“Just give me that,” Leia grumbled gesturing at the now thoroughly floured baking sheet.
Amilyn attempted to hide a smile as she passed the tray, purposely leaving another floury handprint on Leia’s arm.
Leia glared at her as she began to section and carefully twist the dough into intricately braided spirals.
Amilyn stood by and watched Leia’s practiced fingers as they quickly laced the tiny strands of dough together, mirroring the braid she wore in her hair. It was almost magical to watch, the way she seemed to move through the motions with such ease.
“Do you want to do one?”
Amilyn looked up into Leia’s questioning eyes. Slowly, she nodded, unsure of her place in this sacred Alderaanian tradition. Sure, she’d unbraided Leia’s hair before, and on occasion Leia had let her help with her braids or do a simple three-strand braid down her back. But this; this was different. Braids – true Alderaanian braids – were sacred to Leia. They were one of the few pieces of her home that she had left, and Amilyn had always respected that. Braids were only to be done by Leia’s hands, not butchered by unpracticed learners.
Amilyn’s hands shook slightly as Leia placed her smaller hands over Amilyn’s long ones. She placed a kiss gently on Amilyn’s cheek and began to give quiet instructions as she guided Amilyn’s fingers to weave the strands of dough together.
It was messy, but it was there. Simpler than Leia’s, but an Alderaanian braid nonetheless.
“It’s perfect.” Leia pressed a kiss to Amilyn’s lips.
“What does it mean?” Amilyn had recognized the pattern that Leia had been braiding into her cookies - an altered version of the friendship braid – but as she looked at her own cookie, she didn’t recognize it as something she’d seen Leia wear before.
“It’s called the mari-romaan. There’s no word for it in basic, but it loosely translates to ‘braid of the honorable spouse’.” Leia exhaled and continued quietly, “Traditionally, it’s the first braid taught to an outsider marrying into an Alderaanian noble family. It’s especially important in the royal household where it indicates acceptance as the Queen or Queen’s consort …”
Leia continued on about the symbolism of welcoming an off-worlder into the highest-ranking Alderaanian families, but Amilyn had stopped listening. It’s the first braid taught to an outsider marrying into an Alderaanian noble family. Marrying into an Alderaanian noble family.
Leia was cut off by Amilyn’s lips pressed firmly against her own, and delicate hands lacing into her braids.
After a moment, Amilyn pulled back and smiled.
“You’ll have to show me how to do it again. I’m going to wear it for our wedding.”
Leia kissed her again; the unbaked cookies on the counter completely forgotten.