PART III - AWAKENING

Chapter Thirteen

Leia felt as if she were slowly emerging from a deep, dark pool, 
floating silently to the surface of wakefulness.  A strange, subtle 
pressure lingered far in the back regions of her mind, but she was so 
grateful just to be feeling so much better that to complain about such 
a minor detail seemed churlish.

With the exception of the early weeks of her pregnancies, Leia had been 
an exceptionally healthy person her entire life.  Her darkest moments 
as she lay ill had been the brief flashes of lucidity, when she was 
aware of the worried face of her husband bending over her, looking at 
her with such haunted eyes that she ached for him.

Now she missed him in the bed beside her, reached for his presence, and 
found him just as he came into her field of vision from the other side 
of the room, a bundle of soft yellow blanket in the crook of his arm.  
She smiled at him as he approached the bed, and eased down beside her.  
Bringing her fingers up to run along his now smooth chin, she tweaked 
his generous lower lip just before he bent and kissed her warmly.

"Good morning," he said, sitting back and studying her, assessing her 
condition with a critical eye.  She still looked like she might break 
apart with the barest nudging.  He moved to help her sit.

"Is it morning?" she asked as he pushed the pillows behind her back 
with his free hand.

"It is for you," he answered, the corners of his mouth turning up 
slightly.  "For the rest of us it's somewhere around mid-afternoon."  
He glanced down at the bundle in his arms, clucking softly at his 
newborn daughter's vigorous waving of her tiny arms.  "Cady here says 
it's dinnertime."

Leia smiled, and gathered her tangled hair in one hand, pushing it 
impatiently off her shoulders and behind her back.  She held out eager 
arms to take her baby and relaxed into this most intimate aspect of 
motherhood, warmth flowing through her with the exquisite bonding of 
mother and child that she had always cherished.  "My, how she's grown!" 
she exclaimed, her free hand caressing Arcadia's downy blonde head with 
a renewed sense of wonder.  She glanced back up at Han, her brow 
furrowed.  "How old is she now?" she asked, feeling a guilty twinge 
that she even had to ask.

"Eleven days this morning," Han answered, his eyes softening as he 
watched them.  He had always enjoyed this time in his children's lives.  
His wife assumed almost mythological proportions in the standard of 
care she lavished upon the new baby.  Han had often wondered if her 
maternal instincts were shaped by the legendary reverence for life that 
had been her Alderaanian upbringing, or if it were simply the essence 
of Leia herself.  Whatever was responsible, it allowed her to nurture 
her babies with a naturalness that Han thoroughly appreciated, and he 
relished these quiet times that he was privileged to share with them.

Leia relaxed against the pillows, examining her husband for evidence of 
his recent struggle.  She noted with relief the absence of the dark 
circles under his eyes that had been so visible the last time she had 
awakened.  He must have gotten some rest himself.  "You look like 
you're feeling better, too," she said, taking his hand and squeezing 
it. 

He nodded at her, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing their 
tips.  "Much," he agreed.  "Now that I've got my Princess back."

Her eyes misted, and she blinked back the moisture, ducking her head as 
she tended to Arcadia.  "Has Chewie brought the children back yet?" she 
asked, reaching for the presence of her other young ones, and just as 
quickly answering her question as she sensed the distance between 
herself and them.

"Luke took off a few minutes ago to meet them in the village," Han told 
her, smoothing her hair, which was a tangled mess from the many days 
and nights she had spent in the sickbed.  "I thought you might like to 
have a bath before they get back, maybe let me wash your hair for you?"

Leia sighed, embracing the comforting thought of a nice warm soak in 
the massive tub Han had installed in their bathing chambers, of the 
power of his fingers as they massaged her scalp, strong yet tender, 
like the love they shared.  She had always relished the times he would 
wash her hair for her.  "That would be lovely," she breathed.  "But 
first, I think I'd like something to eat."

Han winked at her.  "Already got you covered," he said, getting off the 
bed and crossing the room to retrieve a tray of fruit he had brought 
from the prep area.  He sat it on the bedside table, picked up a plump, 
egg-sized blumfruit, and held it up for her to sample.

Leia took a bite, sighing as she savored the taste of the ripe red 
berry.  Han tasted the immediate and surprising tang of the fruit in 
his own mouth, and inhaled sharply.  "What was that?" he breathed.

"What was what?" she asked innocently, flicking her tongue across her 
lips to catch the last of the tart juices.  He was compelled to lick 
his own lips, then his fingers, relishing the fruity taste with her.  

"Han?" Leia asked, concerned at his strained expression.  "What's the 
matter?"
 
Han caught himself watching their baby as she nursed at Leia's breast, 
and put a hand to his chest, feeling in his own nipple the tug of the 
infant's tiny mouth as she worked at eating.  He knew the thrill of 
lactation from deep within him, felt as if nutrients were flowing into 
the child from his own body, experiencing a simultaneous satisfaction 
in his belly even as Arcadia's was filled.

"Something's happening here," he muttered slowly.  "I don't know what's 
going on but it's weird."  He shook his head, frowning.  "Everything is 
so intense!  I can feel your pleasure at the taste of the fruit; I can 
feel Cady's pleasure with her dinner."  He shook his head again, 
looking at his wife with wondering eyes.  "What's going on?"


"I have no idea," Leia admitted, every bit as confounded as her 
husband.  She searched her rudimentary knowledge of the ways of the 
Force, wishing she had her brother's acumen of its mysteries.  "It 
sounds to me like you're somehow linking with Arcadia and me,  
experiencing the sensations that each of us are feeling right now."  
She lifted an eyebrow.  "Would you have any objections to my asking 
Luke about it?" she asked, a little uncertainly.

Han shook his head emphatically.  "None," he assured her in all 
earnestness.  "I told you, this stuff is over my head.  I'll leave it 
to the Jedi to solve.  Just tell me what you want me to do."  He looked 
back down at his daughter, eyes now closed, sated and happily 
surrendering to sleep.  "How about if I start by putting Cady back in 
her cradle?" he asked.  "Then I'll run that bath for you.  Maybe I'll 
feed you while you soak."  He stood and took the baby from Leia's arms, 
holding the tiny bundle against his shoulder, eliciting the mandatory 
burp before placing her in the cradle and covering her with a light 
blanket. 

Turning again to his wife, he grinned at her crookedly.  "Get ready for 
the ultimate in decadence," he warned, moving into their bathing 
chambers and preparing the bath.  Despite the residual weakness from 
her illness, Leia felt her pulse quicken, her senses heightened at the 
mere thought of her husband's touch.

Han felt it in the next room, and pondered this latest experience in a 
list of inexplicable occurrences since the birth of his youngest 
daughter.  No longer a barrier, now the Force was somehow binding him 
to his wife and child in an intimacy that was startling.

He returned to Leia, helped her disentangle from the bedclothes.  "This 
isn't going to be easy," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm not that heavy, thank you," she told him, with a touch of 
indignation, putting her arms around his neck as he lifted her easily 
from the bed.

"That's not what I meant," he growled.  Following Arcadia's birth and 
during her illness, Leia had lost all of the weight gained during her 
pregnancy.  Always a slight woman, she was now feather-light in his 
arms.  The feel of her against him as he carried her to the bath set 
Han's teeth on edge, and he groaned inwardly over the sad necessity of 
a lengthy recovery, knowing that it would be weeks before they would be 
able to resume their former level of intimacy.  He sighed heavily and 
resigned himself to many long nights of discomfort, wondering how in 
all the stars he would first get through the bath he had promised her.

He sat his wife on the vanity before him, suddenly shaky fingers 
fumbling to untie the ribbons on her nightgown.  She lifted a graceful 
hand and touched his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes.  "I 
know," she murmured.  "But it won't be for long."  She leaned against 
him, the touch of her lips shooting tiny sparks through him as she 
whispered into his ear.  "Just think of the payback."  She sat back a 
bit, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.  "What did you call it?  
The meat?"
 
They locked gazes for a moment, each refusing to give the first hint of 
a smile before suddenly and spontaneously erupting into great peals of 
laughter, and the tension between them shattered as if it had never 
been.  They embraced each other with the affection of two people who 
vastly enjoyed each other's company, and their amusement allowed them 
to get on with the proceedings.

Later, as he lathered her hair, filling his hands with the slippery 
mass and sharing her delight at the sensations wrought by his fingers, 
Han continued to ponder the change that had come over them.  He 
wondered at this mysterious link he now seemed to be sharing with his 
wife and baby girl, and fantasized about the added dimension this new 
contact would bring to his relationship with Leia.

If he could somehow survive the coming weeks.

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

"So this is the one," murmured a solemn young Anakin Solo, peering very 
seriously into the cradle beside the bed and sizing up his new baby 
sister.

Han knelt beside his younger son, rubbing the back of the little boy's 
soft dark head.  "What about it, pal?" he asked quietly.  "Think we 
ought to keep her?"

Anakin was silent a moment, as if making a decision of great import.  
He suddenly looked up at Luke, standing on the other side of the bed, 
watching them.  "If we can," he said solemnly meeting his uncle's eyes 
in a knowing gaze.

Luke flinched with a sudden chilling premonition, icy tendrils of dread 
creeping up his spine.  He looked sharply at Leia, desperately hoping 
she hadn't felt it as he had.  Whether it was the flush of new 
motherhood or simply weakness from her illness, he was grateful that 
she showed no signs of distress.

He returned his attention to Anakin, surprised at the apprehension 
evident in the young eyes.  He had the distinct impression that Anakin 
had his share of secrets, and Luke resolved to take the child aside at 
the first opportunity for a little talk of their own.

"Of course we can keep her, sweetie," Leia assured the child.  Lying 
back against the pillows, her freshly washed hair tied back with 
lavender ribbons and spilling over her shoulders to mingle with the 
bedclothes, she looked more fragile than Luke had ever seen her.   From 
the beginning, Leia had been the more dynamic of the Skywalker twins, 
always impeccably in control.

Years spent honing the finer points of diplomatic patience, coupled 
with the horrors of the Rebellion years, had toughened his sister into 
the somewhat imposing woman she was today.  It was strange - 
uncomfortably so - to see her in such a weakened condition.

Luke watched her as she interacted with her husband and children, 
wondering what it was about her that made her such a dominant 
personality.  He doubted that his sister realized the enormous amount 
of respect she had garnered among the citizens of Coruscant over the 
years.  Oddly enough, it had been her marriage to Han that had been the 
catalyst to capturing the hearts of the populace; legends and ballads 
had already sprung up as a result of Han's romantic kidnapping of her 
to prevent her from marrying another man.  By the time the twins had 
come along the public was thoroughly enamored of her, and they had 
taken her recent desertion hard.

Luke wondered what she would have to say about Mon Mothma's proposal, 
when and if he decided the time was right to tell her.  From the look 
of his sister now, he deemed it unwise to introduce any topic that 
could upset the delicate balance she had achieved since emerging from 
the mysterious fever that had very nearly taken her life.  They had 
much to discuss, true, but at the moment Luke felt it best to keep the 
affection heavy and the conversation light.

He looked at Jacen and Jaina, standing wide-eyed at the edge of the 
bed, gazing down at the tiny bundle in the cradle.  "Not much to her, 
is there?" Jacen asked his twin under his breath, and Jaina nodded 
agreement.

Han stood up and moved from Anakin to the twins, mussed their dark 
heads, and smiled over at their mother.  "Size doesn't matter, Jacen," 
he told his son.  "Look at your mother there.  She's just a little bit 
of a woman and look what she's done to me."  He winked at her as she 
stuck out her tongue at him. 

Luke studied their interplay, a stray flash of Yoda coming to mind:  
his lecture as they stood upon the damp, boggy ground of Dagobah.  Luke 
remembered his discouragement at the size of the X-wing he was supposed 
to lift from the murky waters of the swamp, but Yoda had raised it with 
ease.  Size matters not, he'd said.  Perhaps Han and Yoda weren't so 
far apart in their thinking after all.

"She wasn't so little the last time we were here," Jacen muttered and 
Jaina prodded him with her elbow.  "I told you what happened, Laser 
Brain!"

"I know what you told me," Jacen countered, and pointed at his mother's 
stomach then down to the baby in the cradle.  "But I still don't 
understand how it got from there to there!"

Luke turned his head away quickly as Han erupted into a sudden fit of 
coughing.  Leia looked up at her husband, the corners of her mouth 
twitching.  "Well, Han?" she asked, one eyebrow arched.  "Isn't this 
your area of expertise?"  She glanced back down at her son.  "Ask your 
father, Jacen.  He can explain everything."

"Nice," Han made a face at her, placed his hands on the twins' 
shoulders and steered them away from the cradle, motioning for Anakin 
to follow suit.  "All right, guys, that's enough visiting for today.  
Let's go see what Threepio's up to, huh?"  He leaned over to his wife, 
murmured threateningly.  "I'll get you bad for that one!"

"Promises, promises," she teased, and held her lips up for his quick 
kiss before watching him usher the children from the room, closing the 
door behind them.

Luke moved to the edge of the bed and sat down, looked at his sister, 
tentatively reaching for her Sense.  This was their first opportunity 
to be alone since that terrible evening just before she and her family 
had fled Coruscant, and he wasn't at all sure what to expect from her.  
The immediate and reassuring touch of her mind as it linked with his 
was as a breath of fresh air, their unity like coming home.  He smiled, 
meeting her eyes and sighing with relief.

She took his hand, smiling in return.  "I know," she said softly.  "I 
feel the same way.  I've missed you!" 

"I felt you reaching for me, on a couple of occasions, before that last 
call," Luke told her.  "You stopped yourself both times.  Why?"

She looked down at the coverlet, absently tracing its pattern with a 
finger.  "You know why," she said quietly.  For her, it was something 
too deep, too complex to even attempt to explain the intimate bond she 
shared with her twin.  Her feelings were awkward to think about, much 
less put into words, and she didn't want to make things even more 
complicated by trying to analyze the intricacies of their relationship.  
It just was.  Period.

Luke nodded understanding, content to let the matter lie.  "How are 
things now?" he asked, changing the subject.  "Between you and Han, I 
mean?"

Her eyes took on a dreamy expression.  "Fabulous," she breathed.  She 
looked back at him with enthusiasm.  "Did you know that he delivered 
Arcadia?"

A flash of insight struck Luke: the puzzling shift in Han's Sense that 
he had detected since their reunion, his uncanny ability to sense when 
Leia was yielding to the insistent calling of the mysterious tree 
during her delirium, and how he had reached within Leia's very soul 
with the strength of his love, pulling her back from the pit, 
instilling her with the strength to struggle back on her own.

In his exhaustive research into the teachings of the Ancients, Luke had 
read vague accounts of Force-transference.  This exceedingly rare 
phenomenon would sometimes occur in moments of supreme physical, mental 
and emotional exertion between Jedi and non-Jedi.  Luke had to consider 
the possibility that this was exactly what had occurred at the moment 
that Han had delivered the awesome presence that was Arcadia.  Somehow 
the touch of her father's hands at birth had imprinted upon her to such 
a degree that there was a shifting in her inherited talents.

"No wonder he has such a smug look about him when he holds her," Luke 
grinned, looking down at the tiny infant in the cradle at his feet.  He 
glanced up at his sister, hesitantly, wanting to ask, yet afraid of 
being denied.

"Of course you can," she murmured, nodding her head toward her new 
baby, the one she had feared losing to him.  He appreciated the 
concession she was making and vowed not to make her regret her granted 
permission.

Luke bent and picked up the newest little Jedi, cradling her in his 
arms.  He opened his senses to the essence of the baby, extending a 
tentative finger of Force into the tiny mind, and his tension faded 
visibly as he again sensed the supreme innocence of the infant's soul.  
So he had not arrived too late!

Luke Skywalker held his tiny niece in his arms, rocking her gently back 
and forth, and prayed to all of the Jedi Masters that he and his sister 
would be strong enough to protect the innocent from the evil he had 
foreseen.

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

Han came in later as Luke was settling the baby back in her cradle.  
She had not awakened while he held her and Luke sensed a certain peace 
about the littlest Jedi that had intensified at the touch of his hands.  
Luke made a mental note to reach out to Arcadia the next time her 
parents held her, to gauge the response they elicited from the infant.

Han moved to the bed and lounged beside his wife, crossing his long 
legs casually on the coverlet as he took her hand.  He held it to his 
lips and kissed her fingertips.  "How 'bout it, Princess?" he asked.  
"How're you feeling?"

"Stronger by the hour," she assured him, squeezing his hand, looking up 
at her brother.  "Thanks to the two of you - and the Force."

"Speaking of the Force," Han began, raising an eyebrow questioningly at 
her, seeking confirmation, and continued as she nodded agreement, 
looking back at his brother-in-law.  "We'd like for you to think about 
training the kids in earnest.  You know - Force-type stuff."

"They have tremendous talent, Luke," Leia offered.  "I can feel it.  
But I don't know how to guide it.  I can't fathom how to guide it in 
me, much less teach them how to do such a thing."

Luke smiled ruefully.  "You don't guide it, it guides you."  He nodded 
at her wrinkled brow.  "I know it's a difficult concept to grasp but 
it's something that you need to accept.  We can begin with the children 
any time you're ready.  But not you.  Not yet."

"And why not?"  She was aghast that he could deny her anything; she had 
become rather accustomed to getting her way.

"Because, your Worship," Han began with exaggerated patience, "you 
gotta get yourself well before you go off learning Jedi mumbo-jumbo, 
hocus-pocus."

"Oh, come on, Han..." Luke began, rolling his eyes.

"Don't get me wrong, kid," Han held up a hand defensively.  "I believe.  
I really do believe.  Ask Leia; she'll tell you.  But I also believe 
she needs to concentrate on self-healing right now, don't you?"

They both looked at the Jedi for support, Leia frowning at the look on 
her brother's face.  "Sorry, Leia," he said, shaking his head.  "I 
agree with Han.  You need to wait.  You've been far too ill, and I 
don't think it would be wise for you to resume your training until 
you've healed completely.  A Jedi must put so much energy - psychic as 
well as physical - into learning the ways of the Force.  It would be a 
tremendous drain on you at this point.  So let's give it a while 
longer, okay?"

At her downcast expression he reached over to pat her free hand.  
"We'll get to it.  I promise.  But if you are to refine your skills in 
the Force you must first learn to control your patience.  So relax!" he 
urged, squeezing her hand.  "Your convalescence is a golden opportunity 
to work on your inner defenses, finding your focus, perfecting your 
skill of self-healing.  Take your time.  Enjoy yourself.  Enjoy your 
new baby."  He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.  "Get well!" 
he instructed earnestly.  "Then you can go back to school."

Folding her hands in her lap, Leia grudgingly deferred to her brother's 
far greater insight into the method and time for her instruction.  
Although it was not all that she had hoped for, she was satisfied with 
the outcome of the conversation in that they had at least settled the 
question of training her children; she could be patient a while longer 
- if she must.

Luke stood, stifling a yawn, and stretched tired aching muscles.  "Hard 
day, huh, kid?" Han asked, looking up at him, one eyebrow cocked.

"Even a Jedi has to sleep sometimes," Luke reminded him.

"If you'll both excuse me, I think the time has come for this Jedi to 
get some sleep."  He bent to his sister and kissed her again.  "I'll 
see you in the morning," he told her, and, nodding at Han, turned and 
left the chambers, leaving them alone.

Leia leaned against her husband, opening her Sense to his essence, 
feeling the warmth of his long, lean body beside her on the bed, taking 
in the unique masculine scent of him as she relaxed against the 
shoulders that had provided her such firm support over the years.   She 
looked up at him, one finger tracing the scar on his chin.  //I love 
you, Nerf Herder,// she thought at him.

He took her chin in his hands, bent and kissed her like a starving man.  
"I know," he muttered when he came up for air, his lips against hers.   
Then he broke away with a groan, thinking of the many weeks of  
recuperation that lay ahead.  "But you're gonna kill me if you keep 
this up.  We don't all have the strength of the Jedi, you know.  Some 
of us have to wing it."

Han rose abruptly from the bed and moved to the bundle of yellow 
blanket that had just begun to squirm.  Bending, he lifted the infant 
into his arms and nuzzled the softness of her fair head.  "Cady saves 
the day," he murmured, focusing his attention on his daughter, trying 
to put from his mind the feel of his wife against him, the taste of her 
kisses.

Han sighed.  It was going to be a long road to recovery.  He hoped he 
was man enough to survive the trip. 

[End Chapter]