Chapter Text
Ryoo looked up from her datapad as Leia let hers fall onto the glass tabletop with a dull, dismissive thud. The sound echoed softly in the quiet sunroom, momentarily breaking the peaceful stillness. Leia eased herself into the plush armchair with a weary sigh, her body sinking gratefully into the cushions as if finally surrendering to gravity. Warm beams of late-summer sunlight filtered through the vaulted glass ceiling, casting golden patterns across the polished floor and highlighting the gentle curve of Leia’s pregnant belly. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the light soothe her like balm. A cool Naboo breeze drifted in from the open balcony, carrying the faint scent of flowering thalassa vines and rippling through the sheer curtains. Resting one hand protectively over her belly, she rubbed in slow, calming circles, her fingers tracing the quiet rhythm of tiny, persistent kicks beneath the fabric of her tunic.
Ryoo arched an eyebrow, pausing mid-stroke with her stylus. “This one is doing somersaults as well?” she asked dryly, her voice tinged with amusement as her gaze drifted down to Leia’s belly.
Leia shot her cousin a wry look. “If by somersaults you mean a full-blown party, then yes,” she said, her words heavy with a blend of fatigue and affection. She shifted slightly, adjusting her weight in the chair as another kick thumped against her ribs. “I don’t think he’s stopped moving since morning. I’m starting to suspect he’s training for a podrace in there.”
“At least it’s not twins this time,” Ryoo said with a knowing smirk, returning her attention to her datapad.
Leia snorted, her hand still resting protectively on her stomach. “Makes no difference,” she muttered. “Pretty sure it was ninety percent Jaina causing the chaos the first time. Jacen was just along for the ride.” A sudden wave of nausea rippled through her—sharp, brief, but enough to make her pause and close her eyes until it passed. She breathed through it, slowly, evenly. “Maker help me,” she murmured, half to herself, “why didn’t I learn my lesson the first time?”
Ryoo chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “We all ask ourselves the same thing, Le. And then, somehow... we do it all over again.”
Their shared moment of peace shattered with a sudden, high-pitched shriek from the hallway: “MOMMY!”
Ryoo didn’t flinch. Her shoulders slumped just slightly as she exhaled with the calm resignation only years of parenting could forge. “And then,” she said flatly, “we live with the consequences.”
A whirlwind of motion burst through the archway as Selia came barreling into the room. Her cheeks were flushed, curls bouncing with every indignant step, and her little fists clenched at her sides. “Elar ate my meiloorun custard!”
Ryoo’s voice rang out like a reflex. “Elar!”
A muffled reply floated back from somewhere in the depths of the house. “Coming!” A moment later, a boy emerged with a sheepish gait, the sticky remnants of stolen dessert smeared across his lips—a guilty badge he didn’t bother wiping away. Ryoo gave him a look so sharp and specific it could’ve sliced through starship armor.
“It was just sitting there!” Elar protested.
Selia’s small arms folded tightly over her chest as she stood her ground. “It was mine. I wrote my name on it with a marker!”
Leia, watching the familiar rhythm unfold, let out a soft chuckle. Some things, she thought, never changed—no matter how many years passed or how many planets you crossed.
Ryoo leaned over and ruffled Selia’s curls with a gentle touch. “I’ll deal with your brother,” she said, voice softening. “And we’ll go out tonight. He won’t get to come.”
Selia’s face lit up with a triumphant grin, and she darted out of the room like a spark.
“Selia, sweetheart, can you check if Jaina and Jacen are still asleep?” Leia called out.
A loud “Okay!” echoed back in response. Across the room, Elar opened his mouth—just barely—to offer a defense, but Ryoo silenced him with a single look, a subtle lift of her brow honed by endless practice. His lips clamped shut again, and he turned, shoulders sagging, and slunk away in silence.
“You’re on maternity leave,” Ryoo reminded gently, glancing at Leia as she sighed and reached for her datapad again, more from habit than need. “And vacation.”
Leia rolled her eyes. “So are you!”
“I’m just jotting down notes for the juniors and interns,” Ryoo said with a breezy wave, though her tone had the steely edge of someone used to managing crises before breakfast. “You know I can’t take my eyes off the newbies—hundreds of lives could be at risk if the structures they design aren’t up to par. No pressure!” She punctuated the thought by setting her datapad down with finality. “And I am done!”
With the speed of a practiced enforcer, Ryoo stood, snatched Leia’s datapad right from her hands, and returned it firmly to the tabletop. Then she took Leia’s arm and tugged gently. “Come on—let’s go down to the riverside. The weather’s too beautiful to waste, and workaholics like you need to remember how to enjoy a day off.”
From the corridor, a familiar voice echoed with warmth and familiarity.
“Ryoo!”
Luke Skywalker stepped into view, his robes road-dusted and weather-worn, the kind of wear that came from weeks on backwater planets. But his presence radiated calm, and something in his eyes—urgency, maybe hope—caught Leia’s attention immediately.
Leia straightened slightly. “When did you get back? Did you find the Force-sensitive you were tracking in the Outer Rim?”
“I did, actually,” Luke said, his tone shifting. His gaze landed on Ryoo with a sudden seriousness. “And I need your help.”
He barely finished the sentence before Ryoo raised a hand.
“Wait—hold that thought. I’m getting the distinct feeling I should be sitting for this.” She dropped back into her chair and crossed one leg over the other with a sigh. “Okay. Go on.”
Luke took the third seat across from them and leaned in slightly. “There’s this girl—”
“Oh stars,” Ryoo groaned immediately, cutting him off with a groan and a sideways glance at Leia. “Please don’t tell me she’s a pirate...”
“Han was a smuggler, not a pirtae,” Leia interjected in his defence. She felt it was better at least in someway. The look Ryoo gave her suggested she didn’t see the difference.
Luke’s mouth curved into an innocent smile. “No. Of course not.”
Ryoo exhaled audibly, visibly relieved, and reached for her cup of cold caf. But Leia, eyeing Luke’s expression, had a sinking feeling the reprieve wouldn’t last long.
“She is currently a smuggler,” Luke said, “More like a smuggler’s assistant. She was an assassin for hire,” Luke said casually, as if discussing a weather report.
Ryoo choked mid-sip. She coughed violently, spraying a fine mist of caf into the air and nearly dropping her mug.
Leia winced and reached over, patting her cousin’s back. “You really need to work on your timing, Luke.”
As Ryoo cleared her throat, Leia’s brow furrowed. A name stirred in her memory, surfacing slowly. She hesitated before speaking it aloud. “Is it... Mara Jade?”
She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the woman. Mara had helped Luke in the past and seemed to have left her old ways behind for good—but Leia knew better than most how shadows liked to linger.
Luke gave a small, thoughtful nod.
“Maker, Luke,” Leia groaned. “I know she’s changed, and I appreciate what she’s done, but don’t you think this is a little fast? Has she even agreed?”
“Not yet,” Luke admitted, “but I think she will. She... already seems to like me.” He said it with such earnest hope that Leia almost felt bad—almost. It was a bit too optimistic for her liking.
Ryoo dropped her head into her hand with a groan. “What is wrong with you siblings?”
Leia sat up straighter, indignant. “Us siblings? Excuse me—it wasn’t me who befriended a ten-year-old thief and smuggled him home like a lost pet... then decided to marry him a decade later!”
Ryoo threw up her hands. “Fine! My sister isn’t much better. Must be a family curse.” She turned to Luke with a suspicious squint. “Let me guess—you need my help to convince everyone this is a good idea and make sure it goes smoothly with family?”
Luke nodded, hopeful as ever.
“Why me?” Ryoo exclaimed, shooting another glare at Leia.
“Well,” Luke said with a shrug, “there was Han and Leia... and then that whole Pooja and Tharin situation.”
Ryoo groaned. “Why do my virtues always come back to haunt me? Fine. But I want to meet her first—after you convince her.”
“Thanks! You’re the best cousin ever!” Luke grinned.
Leia smirked as she heard Ryoo mutter under her breath, “I hate myself already.”
Luke went on, bubbling with excitement. “I’m sure Mara will be amazing—and one of the most powerful—”
“Powerful?” Leia and Ryoo exchanged a look.
“What are you talking about?” Leia asked.
“Mara’s incredibly strong in the Force,” Luke said seriously. “I can feel it. She has real potential to become a force for good.”
Ryoo and Leia stared at him, stunned into silence. Clearly, they’d both jumped to the wrong conclusion—and somehow, Leia didn't care how or why, it had to be Luke’s fault. She narrowed her eyes slightly as Ryoo leaned forward, recovering first.
“Then why do you need my help getting the family to agree to you training her?” Ryoo asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
“Not our whole family. Just... Mom,” Luke admitted. Then, after a brief pause, added, “And maybe Dad. I promised her I wouldn’t train anyone dangerous. She might not be thrilled about me taking on someone with Mara’s past.”
He suddenly looked between them, confused by their expressions. “Wait—what were you two thinking about?”
Leia and Ryoo exchanged glances, suddenly realizing how absurd their assumption had been in hindsight.
“We thought you wanted to marry her,” Leia admitted. She had to admit, it sounded ridiculous to just assume that now that she said it out loud.
Luke blinked, momentarily stunned—then burst out laughing. “Mara and marriage?” he said, already turning to leave. “Even I know that’s not happening in this galaxy.” He walked out laughing. “Mara Jade and a wedding! Imagine that!”
“Well on the bright side he isn’t thinking about training Dathomirian witch or princess of a matriarchal star clustor!” Leia said.