The various lights of the bridge of the docked Millenium Falcon were all that could be seen in Han Solo’s eyes. He stared blankly, confusion the only emotion that Leia could barely derive, seeding away the reflections of blue and red and trying to get to the hazel-green.
“Han,” Leia said, placing a hand on his. There was no change. “Han? Did you hear me?”
Han finally met her gaze. His lips were still parted, but he searched her. He tried to swallow his fear, but it came right back up.
“You’re sure?”
Leia smiled and nodded, almost laughing.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Han finally allowed himself a chuckle.
“Wait, r-really?” He asked again, he couldn’t believe it. “You’re…” He loosely pointed at her stomach, looking as if he couldn’t stomach the words himself. “Right now you’re…”
Leia laughed again.
“Yes, now,” Leia said. “I’ve been told I’m about three months along.”
Han Solo finally accepted it as the truth, grabbing her by the shoulders with a giddy smile and forcing them both to stand up as they hugged.
The moment, however, was soon interrupted by a x-wing docking into the bay, sliding in carefully to the space station, obviously by the hand of a great pilot. Han and Leia withdrew from the hug to see red and gold blaring their vision. They squinted, even though they already knew who had arrived.
Leia and Han approached the X-wing as the ramp lowered to the ground, Leia preparing herself to spill the beans to her brother. However, she forgot all about it when she saw what he was carrying instead. Her hand unlatched from her husband’s.
Luke placed down a little green thing, with large, circular, brown, almost black eyes and fuzzy, pointed green ears. The little tyke was barely big enough for his own clothes, and he cooed as he looked at all the twinkling lights of the space station. His little gaze, however, looked at Leia when she knelt before him, studying him with a smile.
“Such a little thing to produce such a large beacon,” Leia said, gently rubbing his ear with her thumb. She looked up at Luke. “Does he have a name?”
“He doesn’t talk yet,” Luke explained. “But he told me through the force that his name is Grogu.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Grogu,” Leia said with a smile, before picking him up and holding him like Luke was. “I’m sure we’ll give you a fine home.”
“Did he tell you anything else?” Leia asked Luke, who approached.
“His species ages differently,” Luke continued. “He is technically fifty years old, but still very much a child. He hasn’t mentioned anything about biological parents, but he’s repeatedly called the man who found him his father. I suspect we’ll be getting a couple visits from him.” Luke smiled, seeing how Grogu leaned his head onto Leia’s shoulder, dozing off and likely tired from the trip.
“I think he likes you,” Luke observed.
“It’s probably because–”
Leia bit her tongue.
“Because what?” Luke asked, Leia smiled.
“I’ll tell you later,” Leia said. “After dinner. Han’s cooking.”
“Hey, wait a second,” they heard Han object behind them. “Can’t Chewie just do it again?”
