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It turned into a habit of sorts.
And Kleya loved having habits, it kept her sane. Dropping by the command center after the end of her shift to wish Mon Mothma a good night was one of them. They were in the early stages of their personal transaction, as Kleya liked to call it.
“It's a relationship,” Vel had said, and having the nerve to sound annoyed.
To which Kleya had replied, “Don't be so vulgar.”
They were not sharing a bed yet. Too intimate, and too impractical in terms of war. Especially when the other part was the leader of the rebellion she had been building for most of her life. And Kleya did not care for impracticalities.
So she settled for little pecks on the lips (tongue was only added if they had time), subtle smiles during boring meetings, intense hand-holding when they thought nobody was looking, and a quiet ‘good night’ after the end of a shift.
And Mon seemed to be okay with that.
When Kleya reached the command center, she found Mon and the princess, leaning over a map, brows furrowed, and complementing each other's observations and ideas.
Kleya smiled tiredly to herself, deciding not to pierce through the bubble they were in. She could survive this one time without wishing Mon a good night. But when she turned around, she heard Mon's voice.
“Kleya.”
Mon's expression had softened, looking at her.
“I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“You did no such thing,” she tilted her head, a soft glint in her eyes. “Can we help you?”
Kleya shook her head slightly. “No, I'm heading off. I was just coming to say good night.”
She noticed the princess looking between her and Mon, clearly amused.
“Oh,” realization fell on Mon's face. “Yes, of course. Good night, Kleya. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Kleya nodded at Leia. “Princess.”
“Sergeant.”
They were going to be there until sunrise, Kleya knew. She was no stranger to working overnight, of course. But she worked alone, and she liked it that way. Mon, on the other hand, had Leia, her mini-me. A younger, and somehow bolder version of her.
Kleya wondered if there was more to it than work – if Leia could see a little bit of her parents in Mon. And if Mon could see, in Leia, a little bit of what Leida could have turned out to be, had she followed her mother's steps.
Too much to think about. Too little time.
***
It was rare for Mon to join her for breakfast at the recreational area. It happened once, over a week ago, and now.
Hard to mingle, Mon had said. Everyone else either stared or avoided staring altogether.
“I'd rather not make my agents uncomfortable.”
And Kleya had merely rolled her eyes and called them stupid, or something between those lines. As surprising as it seemed, Mon Mothma was the most approachable person in the entire base. She could actually pay attention to the rants of an Ewok and still manage to be nice about it.
Kleya hated those things.
But Princess Leia, just like Kleya and Vel, was not intimidated by Mon in the slightest.
She approached their table confidently, tray in hand. She looked at Kleya first. “Sergeant.”
“Princess.”
Then, she addressed Mon, “Senator, can I have a little word?”
“Surely,” Mon placed her mug back on the table. “Should we go now?”
“No, it can wait. It's just a few details we need to discuss about the transportation routes,” she glanced over at the table occupied by the group of misfits she called friends. “I should go now,” Leia sighed.
Han Solo tried to balance a spoon on top of C-3PO's head, and young Luke Skywalker, with a large grin on his face, found humor in it.
Kleya felt bad for the princess.
“Gods help us,” she muttered. And Mon, who had also been looking, chuckled.
“I believe they're a good fit for Leia,” ever the optimist.
“Imagine the bad,” Vel dropped into the seat next to Mon, a piece of bread in one hand, a mug in the other. She'd always had this horrible manner of eavesdropping on them.
“Your cousin is right, for a change,” Kleya said, earning a glare from Vel.
“You two, agreeing with each other? Must be the end of times,” Mon smirked into her mug.
And every now and then, Kleya would feel the princess glancing over at the adults’ table.
***
After the first three days in Hoth, Mon fell ill.
Her body was yet to become accustomed to lower temperatures. And she was far from being the only one; half of the base was coughing and sneezing around like they'd been taking turns licking the same doorknob.
Kleya was not surprised she hadn't caught it. She'd always had a health of steel.
“I need to-”
“You need to rest,” Kleya cut her off.
“I need to run by the new reports, Kleya,” Mon said, her voice weak, her nose congested. “I can't stay in bed all day.”
“I can bring the reports to you later.”
“General Syndulla,” a cough, “she wanted to talk to me.”
“Mon,” Kleya finally sat on the bed, placed a hand on her knee. “Princess Leia got it covered. She can handle it.”
She was a natural, if Kleya were to be completely honest. Her voice carried across the room, people actually listened to her. They believed in her, as they believed in her father before her.
Mon's mouth fell shut. She knew Kleya was right.
“I don't want to overload her,” she sighed.
“You're not.” Kleya took her hands. Her thumb caressed her knuckles. “Leia is doing just fine. You taught her well.”
Mon's face softened. She intertwined their fingers. “Bail did, not me,” she mused.
“Why not both?” Kleya shrugged.
Mon chuckled, squeezing her hand. A peaceful silence fell upon them, with only the sound of their breaths turning into a small fog in the cold.
And then, quietly, Kleya added, “Bail is not here; he hasn't been here for a long time now.” A beat, and she continued, “But you have. And you became important to her.”
Mon looked away, a distant sadness in her eyes.
“The only time I was supposed to be a role model to a young girl, I failed.”
Kleya let the words sink in, heavy in their meaning, and even heavier in memories. She could only imagine how hard it must have been for Mon. How hard it still was.
Losing someone to death was one thing. Losing someone to the circumstances of life was another.
“Leia is not Leida.”
She wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say. But Mon nodded, wiping a single tear away.
“I know.”
***
A knock on the door. It was Leia on the other side.
“Princess,” Kleya frowned. “Is everything all right?” Surely a personal visit, so early in the morning, could only mean something urgent.
“Sergeant,” Leia smiled nervously. “I apologize for showing up so early. I just wanted to check in on Mon.” She gestured at a box Kleya had just noticed she was holding, and explained, “I also brought these. Vel told me she likes her tea in the morning.”
A box full of tea bags. Considering the rations are limited and separated equally, Leia must have stolen those.
Kleya wanted to smile. She didn't.
“She's in the bedroom,” she said, stepping aside.
Mon had been feeling melancholic and sour, having to be attached to the bed and strictly forbidden to read a datapad was doing a number on her. Kleya had to deal with her sullen mood – and even worse things, like constant visits from Vel.
So it was a nice change to see her lightening up at the sight of Leia.
“I'll leave you both to it,” Kleya excused herself, as Leia sat on the edge of the bed, with Mon attentively listening to all of the updates she had for her.
***
Kleya hadn't been alone with Mon in days. They'd meet over meetings, or at the cafeteria, or Kleya would spot her somewhere in the distance, and Mon would wave at her.
It didn't bother her. She had too much on her plate to even care, anyway. Most days, Kleya would even forget her own name. Missing intimacy was not something they could afford.
She saw Mon across the cafeteria, walking beside Leia, deep in conversation.
Kleya was glad to see them growing closer. She smirked into her caf, relieved that nobody was looking. She wouldn't know what to do with a witness to her emotions.
“What are you smiling about?” Vel asked, coming out of nowhere.