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Leia cursed. This was the fifth time she had tried to braid her stupid, kriffing hair in the last twenty minutes. It was frustrating beyond belief. She just wanted to hurry up and finish so she could get to breakfast. Start the day. Do something productive instead of sitting in her quarters and tugging and pulling and twisting at her hair.
She couldn't tell why it was being so difficult today. Maybe the coldness of Hoth had finally began to sink into her, rendering her fingers useless. It would explain why she seemed to fumble every little strand so that she had to start all over again.
Leia had sworn up and down that the cold had no effect on her. She was a princess of Alderaan. Her Challenge of the Body had been climbing Appenza Peak. She could handle a little cold. No matter how many skeptical looks Solo gave her, she would continue to give her blankets to the people who actually needed them. Like Luke, who the freezing weather seemed to be taking an especially heavy toll on. Or Kallus, who's bad knee always acted up with the chill. Even some of their older members, like Rex and the other clones, seemed to get stiff with too much cold. They needed it more than she did. She could handle it.
She tried once more to gather a part of hair, carefully pulling it into a section she had already created.
...
"Do I have to wear it like this all of the time, Mom? I like ponytails, and we aren't even attending any events today!"
Her mother shook her head softly. "No, Leia. Not all the time. But it is good to practice braiding."
"Why? TooVee always says 'because it's tradition, princess.' But TooVee says a lot of stuff! And then never explains it!"
"TooVee does say a lot of things, doesn't she?" At Leia's nod, she chuckled quietly. "But she is right. It is tradition."
"But what does that mean?" Leia groaned, frustrated. As always, the queen regarded her with gentle patience and fond amusement. She sat closer to Leia, and motioned for her to climb on to her lap. She carefully took her daughter's hair in her hands, running her fingers softly through it. Dispelling any knots that had made themselves at home in her brown waves. Also dispelling Leia's vexation. She closed her eyes and allowed her mother's quiet voice and light hands to balance her.
"Braids are traditional because they've been used for so long. In our culture, our way of life, they symbolize many things. Often, we as royalty wear them because they show what we aspire to be. What's one thing you know about braids, Leia?"
The young princess, distracted by the calming feeling generated by the delicate combing of her hair, blurted the first thing that came to mind. "They take forever."
"That's right. They take time, patience, dedication, and level-headedness. All important traits for monarchs to embody. It's what they have meant to our people for generations. It's like a promise. We wear them to show the way we hope to rule.
"We also wear them to honor those who came before. Our legacy, our family. We wear them to show others that the past means just as much as the present and the future." Leia opened her eyes and looked into the mirror in front of them. Up to her mother's braided crown. She tried to imagine generations of rulers wearing a similar style, each doing their best to govern their world in a way that was just and true. Tried to feel how each strand connected her mother to the kings and queens who came before.
The queen continued. "Certain braids are created by adding new segments of hair. This method keeps it strong and helps it to hold together. Just like how we are stronger together. As a planet. As a people. As a family. Just like these braids, we are bound. By our love and our dedication, for each other and for others. They symbolize connection and care. Devotion and love. Duty and service. That is tradition." Finished with her hair, she stroked Leia's cheek gently with her thumb, before tilting her chin up and looking into her eyes. "Do you understand, my love?"
Leia nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mom. I think I do."
Breha nodded. "Never forget, my darling girl, that respecting and remembering culture and tradition is important. But you should never be afraid to carve your own path. Make your own traditions." She turned Leia's attention back to the mirror, and tapped her head softly. There, two braids framed either side of her head, before they both gathered to meet in a ponytail.
Leia, surprised and elated, looked back to her mom, who was smiling lovingly at her. "Never forget, Leia. No matter what, you are bound to me for all eternity. You are bound to the Organa name, and you will always be a part of me. Just as I will always be a part of you."
The princess nodded. Then she hugged her mother gently, burying her face into her neck and taking comfort in her strong arms and glowing pulmonodes. She sighed as the warm feeling of comfort washed over her. "I love you, Mommy."
The queen pulled away only to plant kisses on her daughter's forehead, cheeks, and nose, eliciting high, clear, musical laughter. "I love you too, Leia. More than anything."
...
Leia shuddered and sobbed at the memory, albeit quietly. She gave up on the braids, instead moving all of her focus into containing the feeling of wanting to scream and cry. She muffled the sound as best she could and tried to stem the flow of tears.
She didn't have time for this. She really didn't. She had work to do, a Rebellion to help. People were counting on her. They needed a strong leader to help them plan and pull through in their constant struggle against the Empire. Not some sobbing mess of a girl who couldn't even get her hair to cooperate. With her father gone...
Her father. Gone. Just like her mother. And the rest of her planet. And it was all her...
"Leia?"
Her head whipped up, meeting bright blue eyes filled with concern.
Luke.
He was bundled up in an extra layer of jackets (probably Solo's,) shifting unsure at her door. His face was red from the cold, his blond hair tusseled and messy, probably from waking up only minutes ago. The sight of him shocked her, and she felt as if she had been doused with a bucket of ice water. (In more ways than one. The cold was all-encompassing now, her tears being the only thing remotely warm. In fact, they burned in contrast to her chilled cheeks.)
The surprise was enough to derail her train of thought, and as she tried to compose herself, she forcefully corrected those thoughts.
You are Leia Organa. Former heir to the Alderaanian throne. Part of the High Command of the Rebel Alliance. What happened to Alderaan wasn't your fault. The only ones to blame are the Empire. That's why you fight. To make sure it never happens again. She took a deep breath, before turning back to the jedi standing at her door. "Luke. Did you need something?"
"I--" he started, then stopped himself. He seemed to mull something over for a minute before opening his mouth to speak again. "Can I come in?"
Leia swallowed around the lump in her throat, then nodded. He moved forward, before shutting the door behind him and sitting down next to her on her cot. He was silent for a moment, just sitting still and breathing in and out, in and out next to her. Simply existing in the same space. While she hadn't originally wanted anyone to see her in this state, she had to admit his presence was a comfort. He didn't even have to do anything, but she felt some of the tension in her shoulders leave her. She felt safe. Leia wondered distantly if all Jedi had that effect. Obi-Wan had.
Besides, she trusted Luke. He was kind and selfless, and every bit the bright young man who had burst into her cell to rescue her. In the months since, they had become fast and close friends. When Leia needed advice or company, Luke was her first choice.
It wasn't long before he shrugged off his extra coat and layed it across her shoulders. It was large on him, and so it slightly engulfed her. "Luke," she protested. "Luke, take your coat back. You're cold."
"So are you! You're shivering." He reasoned easily. She looked down at her arms, and sure enough, they were quivering. She couldn't tell if it was from the cold or just aftershocks of her sobbing fit. Oh well. "And it's not my jacket, it's Han's, so you can complain to him."
She huffed a quiet laugh before quietly thanking him. They lapsed back into silence after that. Luke gave her time to get her shakes under control before asking, "What's wrong?"
So he did notice. If she talked about what was really bothering her, there was a chance she would only fall apart more. And she couldn't do that in front of Luke. Not again. She just couldn't. So, while it seemed like a stupid thing to say, she just sighed and reluctantly murmered. "I can't braid my hair. I keep messing it up."
She expected Luke to look at her with confusion or amusement, maybe make a nervous joke or simply just drop the subject. But he looked at her with nothing but empathy. "Leia. I'm sorry. I know what that means to you."
She regarded him with surprise. "You-- you do?"
"Yeah. Well. Maybe not everything. But I kind of know what braiding means on your planet."
"How come? Did you read it somewhere?" Leia questioned curiously.
"No," he chuckled, almost nervously. "Funny story, actually. We were at lunch a few days ago, and you walked past. You were chewing out some nerf-herder for something for other, and then stormed off, and Han made a comment about your braids being in a twist. And then I made the mistake of wondering out loud why you always wear your hair like that. And of course, Threepio had answers. But then he started explaining to everyone at the table, and Wolffe and that intelligence officer woman... dark brown hair, intese eyes, scary face, sits with Mon Mothma's cousin usually?"
"Kleya Marki."
"Right. They both looked ready to shut him off and maybe leave him outside for the night. So Chewie, Han, and I all went back to my rooms to eat. That way he could finish his lesson." He shrugged. "I don't remember everything, but it was interesting to learn about. Alderaan sounded like a great planet."
Leia hummed in agreement. "It was. It was home."
Luke leaned into her side. "While I didn't like Tatooine, and I wanted to leave it behind so badly... it was my home. And I miss it a little. If it was destroyed... I'd be doing a whole lot worse than you."
She shook her head. "You think so? I've kind of been a mess."
"I think you've been doing amazing. I cried like... three times the first week alone."
Leia hadn't known this. "Because of Obi-Wan?"
"Once, yeah. But also for Biggs. He was one of the pilots I was flying with and my friend from Tatooine. Also for my aunt and uncle. They were murdered by stormtroopers looking for Artoo and Threepio."
"Oh Luke." She didn't say anything else. She didn't have to. She just leaned into him as much he was already leaning into her.
"I guess we're both in the same ship, huh?" He sniffed, before turning to look at her. "We can at least solve one of our problems, though. I could braid your hair for you."
Leia blinked, surprised. "You would?"
"Only if you want me to. I know it's personal."
"No, no it's okay," it came out in kind of a rush, so she cleared her throat, and more calmly stated, "I really just need to get this done. I would be grateful for your help."
Luke nodded, brightening, and then moved to sit behind her on the cot. There was a minute where he just sat there. Leia frowned to herself. "You do know how to braid, don't you?"
"Yep! Yeah, I just realized nothing I know how to do is as... fancy as you usually wear."
"Just do what you know. It doesn't need to be fancy. Just functional."
"Functional. I can do that," he murmered to himself. He spoke up a moment later. "Have you got some hair ties?"
"Mhmm." She passed him the bag she kept, full of ties, pins, and travel-sized spray and gel. Courtesy of Solo himself.
"What happened to your ship?" She had asked.
"Nothing Luke, Chewie, and I can't handle." He grinned confidently. Luke frantically rushing up with an extinguisher combined with Chewbacca's yelping howl only caused her to raise a skeptical brow. "Don't worry, your Highness. We wouldn't imagine putting you behind schedule because an inoperable courier ship."
"The price on your head says differently," she murmered. Then, louder, "Besides, I'm not worried about that. It would be an inconvenience, but I care more about you coming back in one piece. All of you."
Solo blinked. "So you do care."
She huffed. "Of course I care."
He stared blankly, and she almost made a comment about the cold and how he was freezing up already, before he shoved a small pouch into her arms.
Leia frowned down at it. "What's this?"
"A little something extra. You know, old habits die hard. What, you've never heard someone say, 'once a smuggler, always a smuggler?'"
She chuckled quietly. "Not particularly. Usually, I'm not in the business of talking to smugglers."
Solo hummed smugly. "I guess that means I'm your favorite one, then?"
Leia rolled her eyes, smirking and ignoring the truth on the tip of her tongue. "Hardly. And that ego of yours is one if the reasons why."
He gasped indignantly. "You wound me, your Worshipfulness!"
Her eyes flicked to the Falcon behind him, and she turned on her heel. "Focus on your ship, Solo. Before Luke or Chewie incinerate themselves."
As the jedi started to pull her hair back, she realized that the exchange must have taken place after the conversation the boys had with Threepio about Alderaanian customs. He got me the supplies after learning how meaningful it would be. She bit back a huff of amusement. Maybe you are my favorite smuggler, after all. Not that you'll ever know.
Luke was murmering to himself and Leia strained to hear the quiet words. She almost giggled when she realized exactly what he was doing. "Left goes under to the middle, right goes under just a little. Scoop some hair and add it in, pull it tight and start again."
"Where did you learn that?"
"My aunt, Beru. When I was younger, she needed hair out of her face to help my uncle, Owen, out with the farm. She usually wore it in in a bun, but she said she wanted to try something new for a while. She taught me the rhyme so I could do it too. Mainly so I could do it when she didn't want to. When her arms were stiff and sore from working." His tone was light and full of nostalgia, and Leia found herself fondly imagining a young, blond boy braiding his aunt's hair before going to play out on the dunes.
"She said, 'You're so good at wiring already, Luke, this is just like it.'" She felt him shrug, her hair moving as his shoulders rose and fell. "She was kind of right. Wires don't slip as much. And unless you're trying to hotwire something in a hurry or defuse a bomb, wiring's not nearly as frustrating as braiding hair."
"You've got that right," she agreed jovially.
"I mean, I can't imagine how you do some of the things you do. The crowns and the loops, and--" he cut himself off. "Dank farik! Lost a strand, hang on."
"You better not let Threepio hear that. Or Artoo for that matter." Leia teased.
"Artoo cusses all the time!" Luke argued.
"I know. Hearing you do it and Threepio getting on to you only encourages him. We'll hear them arguing all day. And night for that matter."
"Ohhhh. Yeah, you're right." Luke agreed. Then he chuckled. "I've never met a droid as fussy as Threepio. My uncle and I cursed sometimes, and my aunt would get on to us, but it was always in a kind of teasing way. Threepio, though... he acts like I'm committing a war crime."
"Well, you are committing a war crime. Against etiquette. Which, to him, is arguably more important to him than actual war crimes." Leia explained.
"Hmmm." Luke got quiet after that.
She waited a minute before pushing. "What are you thinking about now?"
He was still quiet for a moment more, before responding, a distant, soft quality to his voice. "How Threepio is such a mother-hen. And wondering if my mother would have been as strict as he is."
"You never met her?" Leia questioned.
Luke shook his head. "Both my parents died right after I was born. When the Clone Wars ended. My father was killed by Darth Vader. But my mother... I never found out about her. My aunt only mentioned her a couple times, when I asked. She only met her once. But... she said she was kind. Understanding. Beautiful. And that my father was in love with her." While he exhaled a quiet laugh, she could hear the hurt underneath it. "Just another thing I should've asked Obi-Wan."
"He... he knew your parents?" Leia inhaled too sharply, the cold air stinging her dry throat.
"Yeah. My father, at least. They were best friends. He taught my father how to be a jedi. So he must have known my mother, too. I just..." He sighed, dejected. "I can't believe he's gone. He was the last tie I had to... anything."
Leia knew how that felt. How her heart had skipped with excitement at the thought of Obi-Wan, the kind jedi who had rescued her, been a friend to her, and even more amazingly, a friend to her birth parents. Only for that spark of hope to go out the second Vader struck him down.
Taking him away. Just like he did everything else.
She wanted nothing more than to turn to Luke then, the one person she knew shared her pain, to hug the jedi as tightly as she could, to comfort him and to be comforted in return. But instead, she sat still as his fingers continued to card through her hair, gently pulling it together.
Leia sighed. "I guess we just have to keep going, huh? For them?"
Luke agreed, his voice a rough whisper. "Yeah. For them." She felt him tie off the braid, then he moved to sit at her side again. "And... at least we have each other, right?" He knocked her shoulder softly. "We have each other, and Han and Chewie and Artoo and Threepio. You could be a part of our family. If you want."
Leia smiled. "I'd like that."
He grinned softly back at her. "We're all here for you, Leia. If you need soemone to talk to. Or you just need someone to sit in silence with... you have us. You're not alone."
Her chest warmed, and as she thought of the jedi, the pilots, and the droids she had met since receiving the plans to the Death Star, she knew it to be true. They were her family. They were her strength, her support, her Light. Leia knocked her shoulder against Luke's, imitating the motion he had performed only moments before. "Spoken like a true jedi."
He laughed warmly. "I'm trying to be."
"Luke," she shook her head in mild disbelief at her friend's obliviousness. "You already are."
The look he gave her then was quite possibly the warmest thing she had ever felt. Once again, she was reminded of how much he seemed to encapsulate his home planet. The bright hope each sunrise promised shone in him, and he only further proved what she had been trying to convince herself of. Obi-Wan might've been gone, but Luke brought back every hope his death had extinguished in her. We're going to win this. Together.
Then, he was pulling her up and off the cot by her arm. "Now, tell me if my braiding skills have gotten better or worse."
They both stood at the mirror, and Leia moved the braid over her shoulder to inspect it. Crisp and clean, the only hairs out of place being the little strands she usually left out close to her ears. "It's perfect, Luke. Thank you."
"No problem, Princess." He answered easily.
Luke stayed at her side as she continued to stare into the small mirror. But the braid was no longer her concern. She looked between herself and the friend beside her. Comparing. They didn't look much alike. But there was something about him. Familiar. She didn't know what it was, but she felt it. Words began replaying in her head, and the feeling swelled.
"Both my parents died right after I was born. When the Clone Wars ended."
"You are wise, discerning, kindhearted... qualities that came from your mother."
"But... she said she was kind. Understanding. Beautiful."
"But you are also passionate, fearless, forthright... gifts from your father."
"They were best friends. He taught my father how to be a jedi."
"So he must have known my mother, too."
"You knew her. My real mother. Didn't you?"
"Both were exceptional people who bore an exceptional daughter."
"At least we have each other, right?"
"You could be a part of our family. If you want."
A knock came at the door, breaking her from her thoughts. Luke moved to open it, and when he did, Solo, Chewbacca, and R2-D2 were waiting on the other side. "You two alright in here?"
"Of course," Leia answered. "Why wouldn't we be?"
"Your faces are red. And your eyes. And are those teartracks? I leave you alone together for five minutes and you both start crying? I thought you hated me, princess."
"We're fine, Han." Luke rolled his eyes, rubbing at his face "Just... remembering home."
"Oh." The pilot exhaled, gaze shifting carefully between each of them, before regaining its usual smug glee. (If laced with something a little softer.) "Well, we better head down to the cantine. You know how Chewie gets when he's hungry." The wookie took offense to this, hitting his co-pilot upside the head. "Ow! Come on, what was that for?!"
"How Chewie gets?" Leia frowned. "What about the mission to Bracca?"
Solo sniffed indignantly. "I thought we said we wouldn't mention that again."
"No one promised you that, flyboy."
Artoo blipped irritably. Luke squinted down at him. "You... why?"
The astromech twittered sheepishly. Luke sighed and began pulling Leia out of the room and pushing Han out of the doorway. "Artoo sent Threepio ahead to save us seats."
"Good, so why are we in such a hurry?" Han asked.
"Chopper and AP-5 are in there with Zeb and Kallus."
Chewbacca barked out a laugh. "It's not funny, Chewie. You know what'll happen."
Luke tugged both wookie and smuggler along, chatting animatedly, Artoo rolling loyally behind them. Leia followed, hearing Obi-Wan’s voice in her head once again.
"Yes, I think I had a brother. Really don't remember him. I wished I did."