Chapter Two

Leia leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her temples with tired hands. 
The insistent blinking of the comm light on her desk suddenly became an
irritant, and she reached impatiently for the receive switch.  Her level
of tension escalated as she heard the recording of Han's terse message -
and the time of the message:  nearly an hour ago.

Leia glanced guiltily at her desk chrono, groaning as she realized that,
once again, she had missed dinner with her family.  How could it be this
late?  Another missed communion!  No wonder the annoyance in Han's voice
was so pronounced.

This was the third night in a row she had left her family waiting; the
second time she had not even listened to Han's message until much later
than his original call.  Embroiled in diplomatic entanglements while
heavily involved in extensive research of her own, the time Leia spent
with her family was rapidly dwindling.

She had paid dearly for her holiday with Han.  Since their return, Leia
had increased her workload out of an abundance of guilt, feeling an
urgency to accomplish as much as possible before she had to remove
herself from her diplomatic duties for a potentially damaging leave of
absence.

The message center beeped again and Leia skewered it with a look,
debating the wisdom of answering the call.  Making up her mind, she
stood and walked over to retrieve her cloak from the stand in the corner
of the office.  Pulling it about her, she strode purposefully from the
room with measured steps, leaving behind her the persistent beeping of
the system, its quest for answers on temporary hold.

Sweeping her cloak about her shoulders, Leia stepped into the corridor
and began the long walk through the governmental wing of the Palace to
the residential wing.  As she walked she fought nagging guilt at having
let Han down - again - and her footsteps beat the annoying accusation: 
again, again, again, again!  In the background of her consciousness
lurked her 
intentionally removed sense of duty, and its admonishment for her lack
of dedication to the project at hand, whose presentation was due
tomorrow.  Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow!

Leia wished her footsteps would shut up.

Halfway down the Grand Corridor, Leia pulled up sharply, her inherited
Jedi senses alerted by a silent alarm.  Trained she might not be, but
she was receptive enough to detect the presence of the Force when it was
near.  She searched the corridor with her eyes and her Sense for the
presence of her brother, as far as she knew, the only other Jedi on
Coruscant, besides herself and her children. 

No, not Luke, she thought.  But something, some Presence, here in the
Palace.  But where?

Her eyes were drawn to a lonely hallway off to the right, near the end
of the Grand Corridor, leading to a dim little alcove.  It was one of
those small details that she had become so accustomed to, in her daily
journeys through the passage, that she no longer really noticed that it
was there.  But now ....

//Leia Organa Solo...Leia Organa Solo...//

Leia walked slowly, mechanically toward the opening, drawn by an
unidentified force, yielding to a mysterious summons, fearful yet
impelled to follow the cryptic calling.

//Leia Organa Solo...Leia Organa Solo...your Destiny lies with
us...come...// 

A cold shiver darted down Leia's spine as she reached the mouth of the
hallway and moved silently toward an ancient doorway, long abandoned. 
She put her hand to it and pushed, somehow not surprised when it slid
open without resistance.

Leia stepped into a dimly lit alcove, reeking with the stench of age and
decay, and she paused on a landing that led to a cold, dark expanse of
stone steps that descended into the bowels of the Imperial Palace.

//Leia Organa Solo...//

Now fearful, she stood frozen, trying to ignore the persistent calls,
chilled, the icy grip of Darkness suddenly all around her.

Quietly at first, building to an agonizing crescendo, came the sound and
the sense of human suffering.  The cries of untold numbers,
Force-sensitives all, reached for her, wails born of misery and despair,
begging, pleading, beckoning her into their fold.

//Leia Organa Solo...Leia Organa Solo...your Destiny lies with us...//

Tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she experienced a
measure of their pain.

Leia shook her head violently, backing away, retreating from the
clutches of the Darkness and dashed back out into the hallway, slamming
the door behind her and running on frenzied feet down the corridor. 
Still the maddening litany followed.

//Leia Organa Solo, in your Strength we place our trust...//

Turning the corner to the residential wing, Leia slammed hard into her
brother as he suddenly appeared before her.  His Jedi senses keenly
attuned to her turmoil, Luke caught her shoulders as she looked up at
him, panic dominating her dark eyes.

//What is it?// his Sense asked, alarmed at the look on her face, drawn
and blanched, and in her eyes, huge and plainly frightened. 
Automatically, Luke reached out through the Force, seeking the presence
of the unborn baby girl deep within Leia's womb, quickly detecting the
reassuring warmth that surrounded the embryo, the resonance of the tiny
beating heart.  Assured of the well-being of the child, Luke now turned
his full attention to his sister. 

Leia consciously steadied herself as she felt his Sense-probe, her hand
reflexively reaching for her abdomen and giving it a gentle rub.  With a
monumental effort, she pushed the darkness of the preceding moments into
the anxiety storehouse in the back of her mind, and erected a delicate
mental block to deter her brother should he try to examine her
thoughts.  It was not something she felt like discussing at the moment
and she would prefer to forget it; better yet, pretend it had never
happened.  More than likely she was simply worn out, she told herself
reasonably, and the experience nothing more than paranoia bred of
overwrought nerves, scraped raw with the raging hormones of early
pregnancy. 

Taking deep, even breaths, Leia mastered her fear and quietly resumed
her normal mask of composure.  "We're both okay," she assured her
brother.  "I was just feeling a little ill and was in a hurry to get
home."  At his concerned expression, she patted his hand.  "It's okay,"
she repeated.  "It was only a sampling of things to come."

Later, in retrospect, she would despair at the grim irony of her words. 

Luke took her by the arm and steered her toward the lift that serviced
the upper levels of the Palace, his eyes studying her with concern.  

"You're on overload," he announced as they continued down the corridor,
"and it's not good for you or the baby.  Is Han at home?"

"Oh, yes," Leia grimaced.  "I've missed dinner for the third night in a
row, and I don't imagine he's very happy right now." 

Luke studied his sister in silence as they rode the lift to the
residential section.  In next to no time they were there, and as the
doors opened he ushered her into the corridor.  They continued toward
the suit occupied by the Solo family, both of them deep in thought. 

"So why haven't you told Han yet about the baby?" he finally asked
quietly, having plucked the secret from her mind as they walked.  They
had reached the door to Han and Leia's suite, and he swiped his palm
over the sensor on the door.  "You know how much he loves the kids. 
Don't you think he'll be happy about this one, too?" he asked, as the
door slid open.

"Oh, it's not that," Leia shrugged, entering the suite and dropping her
datapad on the table just inside the door.  "I suppose I've been
reluctant to tell him because we've had so many other things to deal
with since we got back from our trip."

She looked sideways at her brother and smiled a sad little smile.  "I'm
spending more and more time away from home, if not in my office then
flitting about all over Coruscant, putting out fires; you know the sort
of thing.  Han and the New Republic have always been in competition for
my time - and this doesn't even bring into consideration the occasional
interference of the Force." 

Leia gestured with a slender manicured hand.  "I don't have any idea how
he will react to the reality of another baby at this juncture in our
lives.  Anakin is eight years old.  We thought he would be the last." 
She shrugged again, glanced down at her as yet unchanged middle and
sighed.  "But I suppose I'll have to tell him soon, or he'll figure it
out for himself."

"Who'll figure what out?" Han asked, entering the living quarters from
the direction of the children's wing.  He came up to his wife and
greeted her with a quick hug and a kiss, then pulled back, looking from
her to Luke and back again, clearly waiting.

Leia patted his arm and stretched to kiss his cheek. 

"We'll talk about it later," she whispered in his ear, "after the
children are in bed."  She felt a suspicious flicker in his Sense and
worried for a moment that he had already put two and two together and
come up with six.  They would be a family of six!  The thought was
sobering, even to her.

"Okay," he conceded, disgruntled at being omitted from their confidence,
but unwilling to press the issue.  "I can wait."   Luke felt the
underpinnings of jealousy in Han's Sense and took the silent cue to
leave them alone.  Patting Leia's hand, he leaned in to brush a kiss
against her cheek.

//Take care//, he instructed her.  //Special care.//

Leia projected a promise to comply and blew her brother a kiss as he
headed out the door.

Turning her attention to her husband, she pressed another conciliatory
kiss on his cheek, rubbing it in gently with her fingers.  "I'm sorry I
missed dinner," she said quietly, and allowed herself to be led to the
couch, where Han pulled her down beside him, one arm around her
shoulders.  She snuggled against him, glad to finally have a few moments
alone with him after such a disquieting day.  "Where are the children?"  

"In their respective baths," he rumbled, nodding toward the back
portions of the suite.  "Chewie promised to keep an ear out for them
from his room."  He looked down at her dark head on his shoulder and
kissed it, breathing her scent.   "Winter hinted earlier that you might
have something to discuss with me."  

So now Winter knew, too.  Leia had thought her secret safe from those
who saw her every day, and was fairly certain that Han had not yet
noticed anything out of the ordinary.  Winter, however, with her laser
sharp memory, had apparently not missed the similarities between the
recent morning behavior of her mistress and that of the early days of
Leia's other pregnancies. 

Inwardly Leia groaned, knowing that the debilitating morning sickness
she had experienced in the past would all too soon be upon her, and Han
would then have full knowledge of this new little being she carried
within.

She closed her eyes and turned her cheek into Han's chest, her Sense
embracing the comforting feel of him as she leaned against him, their
renewed intimacy caressing her mind and her heart. 

"Later," she murmured against his shirt.  "Just let me rest for a bit,
please."  She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, surrendered to its
greater will and snuggled against her husband, her eyes closing in spite
of herself.  "I just want to rest my eyes for a few moments," she
continued drowsily before lapsing into silence.  How she longed for an
escape from the
ceaseless responsibilities which now consumed her life! 

She would tell Han her news that evening, she resolved; later, after the
children were asleep and they were alone together in the warm cocoon of
their bed.  For now, she wanted only to sit here and lean against him,
luxuriating in the warmth of his thoughts against her mind, his fingers
playing in her hair, his tender ministrations helping to soothe the
anxieties of the afternoon.

********************

She was alone in a forest devoid of color...a forest familiar yet
somehow alien.  She darted between the trees, searching, knowing yet not
knowing where she was and what she sought.  All about her was a
pervasive Darkness such as she had never known, a darkness of spirit, a
feeling of dread so oppressive she felt as if she were being crushed by
it. 

Somewhere, up ahead, just the other side of the meadow, someone or
something was calling her, urging her onward, commanding her to attend. 
She ran and ran, and just as she burst through the wall of tall
grass...  

Leia startled awake, gasping, her head jerking violently off of Han's
shoulder.  She sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, feeling tiny beads
of perspiration break upon her brow.  Was this another Jedi vision, she
wondered, like the one she had experienced on Endor?  Or was it just a
bad dream, born of fatigue and worries over the future?

"Whoa, sweetheart, it's okay!" Han soothed, drawing her back against
him, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.  She forced herself to lie
passively against him, breathing deeply, for the second time in as many
hours wishing she had perfected the Jedi calming techniques that Luke
had shown her.  Presently she was able to breathe evenly, and finally
looked up at Han, feeling a guilty twinge at the deep concern she saw
clouding his hazel eyes.

"I'm fine, really."  She patted his hand where it rested on her
shoulder.  "I'm just going to have to speak with Luke about these
sendings."

"Sendings?" His brow wrinkled in confusion.  "What kind of sendings? 
You mean like a vision, through the Force?"  Now Han was further
worried.  He had experienced first hand a sending of his own, courtesy
of the witch Gethzerion during their time on Dathomir, a grisly
experience in which he had been forced to witness the systematic
slaughter of hundreds of innocent people, all on his account.  The
thought of Leia being subjected to such an upsetting experience made his
insides twist.  

"Sometimes, it's like pieces out of a dream, bits of a puzzle I have to
sort through and interpret," Leia said thoughtfully.  "Other times, it's
very real, a definite clear message; then again it can be an image, of
something or someone, like a window into the future."

"So which version was this one?" he asked, encouraged that it was
nothing of the kind he had endured, his guilt-ridden jealousy soothed by
her willingness to discuss the matter with him, though Luke was clearly
her first choice for consultation on anything Force-related.

"The first type...I think."  Leia paused, trying to grasp at already
fading memories of what she had seen.  "I was running in a dark forest,
searching for someone.  And someone was calling me, almost commanding my
presence."  She shook her head in frustration, wishing she had Luke's
insight into the implications of this type of vision, which she had
always had a hard time interpreting.  "It was all so confusing!  I
really hate it when this sort of thing happens!"

They were silent for a moment, each deep in thought.  Han finally spoke
up.  "How many of these visions have you had lately?"

Unconsciously she braced herself; this was not the way she had intended
to tell him.  But perhaps the Force knew when was best to break news of
such import.  "Recently, only one other," she said carefully.  Her
experience in the alcove of the Grand Corridor somehow didn't seem to
count as a vision; to her mind it was more of a hallucination.  "It came
to me about six weeks ago," she continued quietly, "our last morning on
Endor." 

He absently stroked her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. 
"What sort of vision was that one?"
 
Leia took a deep breath, clearing her mind of its recent turmoil.  And
suddenly she knew how to tell him, and it felt right somehow, for her to
be seeking his comfort and assistance over a matter that affected them
both so deeply.  "It was a vision of our daughter," she answered softly,
sitting up and watching him, reaching into his Sense, not quite fearful
of his reaction yet unsure of exactly how to put it into words.

"Jaina?" he asked, that silly grin of his spreading across his face at
the thought of the little girl.  "What was she up to?"

"No, not Jaina," Leia murmured, taking his hand and drawing it to her
abdomen, pressing it warmly against her.  "The daughter I'm carrying
right here."  She sensed the thunderclap of his awakening like a
physical jolt, his surprise rapidly evolving to delight as the reality
of her words enfolded him. 

"You're pregnant?" he breathed, the words coming out half question, half
statement of fact.  At her nod, the brilliance of his smile melted all
of her misgivings, and she relaxed against him as his arms pulled her
close again.

"A baby!," he crowed, hugging her tightly, jubilantly.  "And after all
this time!" he chuckled.  "Well, aren't we something?  Six weeks, huh? 
That would put it just about...," he paused and his mouth curved into a
devilish grin as he counted back to a happy memory, "...an Endorian
baby!"  He gave her a roguish wink.  "Hey, Your Worship, we should have
expected it!"

She laughed in his embrace, relieved to have her secret finally out in
the open, enormously pleased with his reaction.  But then, he had always
been a good father, she thought; she should have known he would react
this way.  "So are you happy about it?" She looked up at him from the
circle of his arms, knowing his answer in her heart but longing to hear
the words.

He grinned down at her, squeezing her again. "Oh, yeah."  He kissed her
soundly on her upturned lips.  "Yeah, you bet I'm happy!  A little girl,
huh?  You said you saw her in a vision, back on Endor...?"

Leia nodded, reflecting on the moment with a dreamy smile.  "Yes, our
last morning there.  I woke up and suddenly there she was; this
beautiful little fair-haired girl with Luke's blue eyes, and she looked
so much like Anakin did as a baby that it was obvious to me she was
ours.  After the vision faded, I realized she was already here, inside
of me."    

Han kissed the top of Leia's head, feeling a delicious warmth sweep
through him at the thought of their baby growing within her, another
little life they had created during their magical sojourn on Endor.  The
whole matter had a feeling of rightness about it, though hard to
explain.  But it made him happy.  It made him more than happy.  He was
ecstatic, and proud, and honored and, above all, grateful to whatever
greater force was at work all those years ago to bring him together with
the woman he held in his arms.

He lifted her chin with a finger, took her face in his hand and kissed
her gently, with a near-reverence that brought tears to her eyes.  "I
love you."

"I know," she whispered, completing their old inside joke, and smiling
at him through misty eyes.  And then he kissed her again with such
tenderness that she felt rather silly for keeping the news from her
husband for as long as she had.

There was a time and place for everything, she thought happily; even
unexpected little Jedi babies conceived on lovely, magical Endor.