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It was Life Day. Growing up on Alderaan, Leia had been aware of the holiday, but had never observed it. It wasn’t until meeting Chewbacca four years ago that she’d begun to celebrate it with him, Luke, and Han. She hadn’t realized how much this new tradition had come to mean to her until right now. When it was Life Day again, and Han was still gone, frozen in carbonite, and Luke was off doing some Jedi thing or another, cagey as ever since Bespin.
A year ago, they had all celebrated Life Day together on Hoth, on the Falcon. Chewie had made a delicious, traditional Wookiee meal with ingredients he’d been gathering for months. After dinner, they’d sipped a surprisingly good Kashyyyk wine and just talked. It had been wonderful. Low-key, but with a sense of belonging she’d been missing since Alderaan.
Now, she was alone. Chewie was around somewhere, of course; he always was these days. But without her boys, she felt desperately lonely. She knew Luke would be back at some point, but he had changed so drastically in the past few months, she barely felt like she knew him at times. And Han… it had been ten months. Ten months. She had been trying so desperately to hold onto hope, onto conviction that they would find him. But with disappointment after disappointment, it was hard to believe they would ever be successful. At what point did she give up? At what point did she stop being so selfish and stop misusing Alliance resources? At what point did she force herself to accept that he was gone? Was she being ridiculous? Wasting time and money to save one man?
She put her head down on the dejarik table. A year ago, they’d all been together. It had fallen apart so quickly. She knew better than anyone that life could change completely, without warning. And as she’d rebuilt after Alderaan, was it time to start rebuilding again?
Leia heard some rustling in the small galley. Chewie walked in, holding two mugs. He sat opposite her and pushed one of them across the table. He whuffled softly.
She took the mug. It was warm and had a tiny crack in the rim. The tea was a dull green color, not particularly appetizing, but the smell was pleasing. Woody and natural and comforting.
<<It’s a traditional holiday tea from Kashyyyk,>> Chewie said. <<It’s called saava.>>
Leia took a small sip, the hot liquid burning her mouth slightly but also warming her from the inside out. It had a hint of pine, and it tasted like winter. It felt like a warm, wonderful Wookiee hug.
She set the tea down and looked up at Chewie. His gentle blue eyes looked concerned. He drank some tea himself, then put his mug down and reached for her hand, squeezing it carefully.
<<I know it’s hard. I miss him too,>> Chewie said. <<But, speaking as a Wookiee, ten months is nothing. Do not give up yet, Princess.>>
Leia sighed. “I’m not giving up,” she said. “I’m just so disheartened. What if we never find him?”
Chewie squeezed her hand again. <<We will find him. Whether he is alive or not, I don’t know. But we will find him and find closure to this. I won’t stop until we do. He is my family and I will do nothing less for him.>>
That was part of it, Leia admitted, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She was pragmatic and realistic, but also loyal to a fault. If there had been even the smallest chance that her mother and father were still alive, she would have dedicated her life to finding them. She would never stop fighting the Empire, but she would never abandon her family either.
And for all that she and Han had been through together, for all that she loved him, she hadn’t accepted that he meant that much to her. That he was family and that she would be just as dedicated to finding him as she would her parents. It was some final, internal wall she’d kept up. But it was crumbling. In the face of Chewbacca’s devotion, she knew her feelings were no less.
Leia took another sip of the fortifying tea. She met Chewie’s eyes again and nodded. “Okay. We find him. Whatever it takes, however long it takes. He’s my family too.”
Chewie roared and stood up. He came around the table and pulled her into a big hug. Like the tea, it warmed her from the inside.
<<Next year, Han will be with us.>>
“I don’t know what I would have done without you these past months, Chewie,” Leia said.
Chewie rumbled happily. He put a hand on Leia’s head, his long fur dangling into her eyes. <<Happy Life Day, Princess.>>
One Year Later
Leia flopped onto the couch in her apartment. She was exhausted. The last trimester was unbearably uncomfortable. She could barely walk, could barely sit, could barely do anything. And in addition to the physical discomfort, there was the ever-present anxiety that she would have a child soon. What would that mean? How would she cope? Without her parents, knowing who her biological father was? Not to mention the nursery wasn’t finished, and she still had to finalize plans for her maternity leave and host the Felucian conference next week. It felt like an overwhelming mountain of responsibilities. And all she really wanted to do was sleep.
She flung an arm across her eyes. It wasn’t her intention—there was so much to do!—but she started dozing off, enjoying the quiet and the stillness for a few minutes.
DING. The door sounded loudly, announcing an entrance. The noise startled her from her sleep and she sat up, annoyed at the interruption. Han was in the doorway, holding a small crate. She scowled, knowing it was unreasonable and that he had every right to be in his own apartment. But she’d been increasingly annoyed with him of late, and how small his role in this whole baby thing amounted to.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Han called cheerfully, oblivious to her stormy mood. He put the crate on the table in front of her.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s a package from Chewie. For Life Day, I bet,” Han said, sitting next to her.
She looked at the crate and frowned. “That’s today?” How had that completely escaped her notice? She knew it was coming up, but hadn’t realized it was today . She was distracted with the pregnancy, she knew. And with Chewie back on Kashyyyk, it was easier to forget, but still....
“He must be missing me,” Han said.
Leia smiled to herself, knowing it wasn’t only Chewie who was bereft without his friend. “Actually, it’s addressed to me,” she pointed out.
“What? That can’t be right.”
“Why not? Chewie likes me more than you most of the time anyways.”
Han scowled, folding his arms and leaning back against the couch.
Leia opened the latches on the crate and took the lid off. A hologram started up from inside and a small figure of Chewbacca was projected in the air.
<<Hello, Princess. Missing you this time of year. I miss Han too, but don’t tell him that. Let’s plan to all spend next year's Life Day together with the baby.>> The figure of Chewie growled and disappeared.
Leia missed Chewie too, but she would never have taken him away from Kashyyyk during its first Life Day freed from the Empire’s tyranny. The planet had been preparing for its annual celebrations for months, ever since the last Imperial troops had been evicted.
Leia reached into the crate and pulled out a long wooden box. She lifted the lid and a familiar scent filled the air. Pine, winter, warmth. Hand-tied saava tea bags lay nestled inside the box. Memories of the previous year came flooding back—the fear, the guilt and the loneliness. The emotions stopped her short and she bowed her head under their weight.
“Hey!” Han said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down into his shoulder. “Chewie wouldn’t want to make you sad.”
She sniffed. “I’m not sad,” she said, “just remembering last Life Day.” She placed the tea box on the table and buried herself in her husband’s arms. “It was the exact opposite of this.”
Han held her close and kissed her hair. “Can’t say I remember last year’s Life Day.”
Leia laughed and nestled her head into his neck. “I’m so grateful you’re here. That you’re okay, that we’re together. I don’t know if I would have believed it a year ago.”
She remembered the desperate loneliness. How the coldness of her despair contrasted to the warmth and love radiating from Han now. She let go of all the things nagging at the back of her mind—the conference, maternity leave—and let the relief wash over her. She had her family—a husband who loved her, a brother who’d be coming over for dinner tonight, a baby they’d get to meet soon, and a dear friend who looked out for all of them.
Leia pushed out of Han’s arms and beamed at him. He rubbed a hand up and down her arm before saying, “It’s nice to see you happy.”
“You make me happy,” she said simply, truthfully. She leaned forward to give him a warm kiss. “But you’d make me even more happy if you brought me a cup of that tea.”
Han laughed and stood up after giving her another quick kiss. “Whatever Her Highness commands.” He picked up the tea box and was turning towards the kitchen when he stopped. He reached back into Chewie’s crate and picked something up. He showed Leia the object: a handmade plush toy of a Wookiee, its gray and brown hair soft, warm and real.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, taking the toy from Han. “He’s so sweet!” She petted the doll’s silky fur. It still seemed like an abstract concept that there’d be a baby to play with it in just a few months. She envisioned all of them together next Life Day—her, Han, Luke, Chewie, and the baby—and was filled with contentment. She grinned up at her husband. “I can’t wait for next year.”