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Han couldn't believe how small he was.
Granted, he hadn't been around many babies – at all, really – but the kid he held in his arms was just so damn tiny he didn't seem real.
His kid. Little Ben Solo.
He had been kicked out of the room about an hour into Leia's labour. The doctor said that he and Leia's bickering was "putting her under stress". Apparently the doctor couldn't see that she was winning the argument.
So he spent the next fours hours standing impatiently outside the door, Luke and Chewie right there with him. Everything was gonna be fine, right? Sure. It was safe to say he had a good feeling about this. But every time he turned to look at Luke, he could tell what the kid was thinking, he could tell his thoughts kept lingering to his own mother and the fact that she didn't survive – no, that was obviously different. Leia was fine and healthy and too damn stubborn to let anything happened to herself. She had lived quite a life for someone in her early twenties, she wasn't about to let childbirth get the best of her. But... still.
Chewie was entertained greatly by watching Han worry. He had complete confidence that all would go smoothly. Of course he did. They had worse odds, right? Anyway, Chewie did his best to lighten the mood, his moans and growls cutting through the awkward silence, poking fun at how serious Han has. "Can ya blame me? I think Leia is rubbing off on me." He was actually glad to have Chewie there. He just knew how to make Han feel a little better – even if it was through merciless teasing.
The room Leia was in was soundproof. Which was both good and bad. When Han had been in the room, Leia's screams and moans were almost sickening to listen to – reminding him of terrible things, of her terrible nightmares full of terrible memories – and it honestly killed him a little to hear her suffer. But out here he couldn't here a thing; no sounds al all to tell him if things were going well or not. (Of course they were going well, Solo.) Would they come tell him when it's over? Would they let him in? Would they let him see his kid?
Leia wanted a boy. When he asked why she merely shrugged and said she always wanted an older brother – he said she technically had one since Luke was born first but apparently that didn't count – so she wanted to have a boy first, if she were to ever have children. When she asked Han though, he had no preference. Hell, he hadn't ever given gender preferences a though until Leia had announced she was pregnant – in a very nonchalant way, too; they had just been reunited after about two weeks apart, catching up on what they had been up to and it had just came out.
Han was fine with a boy or girl, he supposed.
After hours of waiting – was this how long all labours took, seriously? – the doctor finally poked his head out of the door, a med droid hovering behind him.
The two men and the Wookiee immediately straightened up, all eyes on the doctor.
"It's over," he said, mostly to Han (who was the most nervous, more nervous than he'd ever been in his life, which was crazy). "Your wife and the baby are perfectly fine."
"Well, what is it?" Han asked. "I mean, is it a boy or girl?"
"Why don't you come see for yourself?"
Han turned to glanced behind him, brows pulled together. Luke grinned at him, nodding and barely containing his excitement, blue eyes sparkling brightly. Chewie was similar, ushering Han to the door with his long arms.
The smuggler took a few steps forward, stopping at the doorway. The doctor smiled his friendly, disarming smile, stepping out of the way. Through the door, Han caught a glimpse of his wife nested in the cot, with white – probably fresh – sheets draped over her small frame. It was interesting to see her with a flatter stomach once again, after spending months with her so swollen. Seriously, she was huge. Han wondered if it was because she was so short (and he'd voiced this too, only to receive an elbow to his gut, once again reminded not to mock his wife's height).
Clearing his throat, Han crossed the threshold into the room. Leia looked up from the bundle in her arms and he finally got good look at her face. She was exhausted. Her face pale, with dark eyes and dry lips. Her hair damp from sweat; she probably hadn't had a real chance to freshen up yet. But she also probably didn't care. Yet, somehow, despite her fatigued appearance, there was a glow to her. Strange and light, something Han couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe Luke could explain it better, what with the Force and all, but then again, maybe it wasn't a Force thing.
Maybe it was a new mother thing.
"I'll give you two some privacy," the doctor said, leaving the room, with the med droid behind him.
Han nodded as the doctor shut the door, turning back to his wife, who was still waiting for him to speak.
"Hey," he said lamely. (Smooth, Solo.)
Leia still smiled, that beautiful, damn near perfect smile of hers, that she tried to hide by ducking her head. "Hi," she replied. Her voice sounded different too. Hoarse and dry.
"How ya feeling?" Han asked when he reached the bed, fingers immediately stroking her damp hair.
"Sore, actually. Thanks for asking."
Han scoffed. Only Leia could be so sarcastic after childbirth. "Sorry, princess; I'm a little out of my depth here."
Leia's dark eyes softened and she lifted one hand to catch his own, nursing the baby with one arm. "I'm only joking, dear." Her attention returned to the baby when he fussed briefly. She rocked him a few times and he quickly fell silent in his slumber once more. Her gaze returned to her husband. "Say hello to your son."
Han swallowed, eyes glued to the kid nestled against her chest. "Never thought I'd see that day." It was meant to be a joke but it came out far more serious than intended.
"I know what you mean," Leia agreed, sounding very lost in thought.
And even he he thought things like that, he felt like it was wrong Leia should, too. She should be able to feel very proud, not pondering over whether she deserved it (as she probably was). He felt obliged to lighten the mood. An act of goodwill in light of his new child.
"That's a Solo nose right there, sweetheart. Make no mistake." He grinned when she snorted, always satisfied with her reactions.
It did bring her smile back, too. As expected, of course. "Whatever you say, Solo. But he has my eyes, which you'll see when he wakes up. Now, you wanna hold your kid or not?"
The smuggler said nothing. Well, he tried but his throat was dry. There's a question he never thought he'd hear.
Still silent, he offered his arms out awkwardly. How did one even hold a baby?
Leis seemed to suspect his concerns – as always – and glanced down at her own arms, the arms the baby rest snugly in. "Like this, flyboy. Remember to cradle the head."
He sat on the bed, careful of where his wife rested, and tried to mimic Leia's arms as best he could. When she was satisfied, she gently brought the baby up and into his waiting arms.
So here he was, cradling his kid, his baby, in his arms.
And he absolutely loved it.
Though having kids was never really something he was deadset on having, there had been times, albeit rare, that his daydreams would toy with the idea of children. The mother he couldn't picture – because back then he obviously didn't know who, if anyone, his future wife would be – but he could picture the kids. Little tykes with brown hair and wide eyes, running around the Falcon, playing games of hide and seek with Chewie, listening to stories of all his great adventures. Of course, even he wasn't selfish enough to want to raise kids up in the lifestyle he lived. It wouldn't be fair. So kids had always out of the question, just brief ponders in the distance, daydreams and nothing more.
Until now.
Now he had a son. A son. He went from growing up alone to having a family of a giant furball of a best friend, beautiful and bold wife, her heroic and dorky brother, two infuriating droids, and now – a son.
He was now someone's father. Someone's role model, someone's protector, someone's unconditional best friend. True, he was actually those things to the other members of his mismatched family, but he was all those things to just one little guy now.
He suddenly didn't feel so confident.
His face had pinched up, looking stricken and in deep though.
Leia noticed, she always did. "What is it?" she asked softly, propping herself up on her elbows.
"What if... ya know, what if he doesn't like me?"
If someone else had said it, Leia would have scoffed it off. Laughed maybe. But Han? Suave, confident, cocky, sarcastic Han? He really didn't believe that, did he? Did he?
But she understood. Reflecting on it, a part of her hated her real father – loathed him for what he'd done to her and to others. But she hadn't been raised by him; they hadn't known of the other's existence. However, as much as she loved her parents, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be raised by her real mother and father. What it be like to hold love for them, rather then subconscious feelings of resentment. But maybe that was selfish, because she had a fine childhood and she was raised with the morals of her parents, she was raised to do the right things, to fight when others couldn't. It was better than what Han experienced. She wondered if he resented his parents too. It didn't matter; now, now they had a chance to raise their child and show their child love and happiness and family and maybe the things that they had both missed out on themselves.
"Han, what kind of talk is that? You're his father – of course he'll like you; he'll love you. Unconditionally." She gave him a wry smile, that 'I know all' smile only she could pull off. "He'll be your biggest fan."
Maybe he just need to hear those words (especially from Leia because she never lied to him) because suddenly all his thoughts seemed crazy. Sure, maybe he and Leia weren't gonna be experts on parents and, sure, they hadn't been raised by their real parents, but they were gonna do their best. They were gonna give their kid everything they had. And they had Luke and Chewie, they had Artoo and Threepio, they had Lando, they had their dear friends from the rebellion and anyone else they could ask for help from. The kid would have a childhood like no other, that was for sure.
Leia noticed that the door was now ajar and resisted the urge to laugh. "You may as well come in now," she called, voice drifting out the room.
Han frowned at her, about to ask what she meant when Luke and Chewie shuffled into the room, looking sheepish. And curious.
"Luke!" Han crowed, excitement building up again. "Get over here, kid. Come see your new nephew."
Chewie muttered something and Han rolled his eyes. "Yes, he's your nephew, too, ya big fuzzball."
Luke strolled over, giving his sister an awkward, one armed hug, before looking at the baby Han was practically flaunting at this point. "Alright," he chucked, coming to stand next to his brother-in-law. "Let's have a look."
Despite internally mocking Han's pride, Luke felt something bold and wonderful wash over him. The newest addition to their crazy little family. The room was filled with something – something like happiness only better, and the Force was sparking in strong surges all around; new life was surrounding them and Force was encouraging them to rejoice.
"May I?" Luke asked, mimicking Han's arms.
Han was very reluctant to give up holding his kid. Probably too reluctant. Still he handed the baby over carefully, with Luke looking just as apprehensive as he first did. Once holding the baby, his eyes slid shut, whether he meant to or not, and he simply just stood there, embracing the child carefully. Han wanted to ask what the hell he was doing but he had a pretty good idea. All thing involved Luke eventually led to...
"He's strong with the Force," the young Jedi mused. "I can already tell. I could feel the change, you know, when he was born, I could feel a shift in the Force. And now, its surrounding us so strongly."
Mother and father exchanged glances. "Is that... good?" Han asked, a little hesitant.
Luke broke into a wide, youthful grin. "He'll make a great Jedi someday – if he wants to be, I mean."
Leia hummed contently but Han brushed if off. One thing at a time.
"Chewie?" Luke offered the baby to the Wookiee next to him, who held out his furry arms almost immediately.
Luke gentle handed off the child once more. Much like Han, he never thought he'd see the day that arrogant, smooth talking smuggler he called his best friend would ever have a kid. But stranger things had happened. And much like Han, he didn't see very much babies, which was a shame because human babies were so funny looking. Cute, but funny looking.
The fact that Chewie seemed to know how to hold an infant better than he did irked Han more than it should have. The Wookiee moaned quietly, rocking the baby a few times.
"I know; a Solo nose. That's what I told her." Han gestured at Leia. "She said he has her eyes so we'll have to wait and see and she's right."
"She has a name, Solo," Leia retorted, smirking at him. "And I think I'd know if he had my eyes."
"We'll see, sweetheart."
Chewie handed the baby back to his father, who couldn't understand why his was so damn thrilled to be holding him again. (It's only been few mintues, Solo; calm down.)
"So," Luke asked, "what are we gonna name the little rebel, huh?"
Silence feel upon the group.
Now there's a daunting task. A name. It was hard to choose something so permanent. Something so personal. One's name corresponded with one's identity. Sometimes, the only thing someone has is there name. How did you just suddenly chose – and for someone else for that matter?
Han suggested the name Chewbacca Millennium-Falcon Luke Organa-Solo; after his favourite people and things, which he said were listed in order. The name was a joke. Sort of.
Leia revoked his naming rights then. (Although later when Han insisted the kid's middle name at least be Chewbacca, she didn't protest, and neither did Chewie for that matter.)
They threw around several names. Argued a bit too. Han couldn't decide on just one and Leia was incredible fussy. Han wanted something short. Leia wanted something meaningful. Chewie was suggesting names nobody else could pronounce.
"We can't make a name out of all our initials, Han."
"Luke, there is no way I'm naming our kid after Vader... oh, well, we aren't naming him Anakin either."
"Chewie, I feel like I don't even have enough teeth to pronounce that one."
Luke suggested a name after that. A simple one. To those who didn't know the Skywalkers and Solos, it was just another name. They wouldn't understand the weight, the significance behind the name. Without the man that the name belonged to, they very well could have never met. They possibly wouldn't be in this room, surrounding a baby and tossing around the name. A simple name.
Ben.
The others all looked up at him, He hesitated, cheeks flushing slightly. "I get if you wouldn't want to... I just thought I was better than suggesting Obi-Wan or, or Anakin..."
Leia held up a hand to gently silent him. "Luke, dear, it's alright," she assured. "You can suggest what ever names you want. They're all going to be better than Han's original choice... Han?"
He wasn't listening anymore; he saw staring off past them. Something clicked. Something about that name just seemed to work. It just did. Han could feel it, and he didn't need the Force to do so. "Ben," he tried, testing how the name sounded on his tongue. "Ben Solo..." A grin was slowly spreading across Han's face. And not his usual smirk; a full blown, completely content grin. "I like the sound of that. Leia?"
"Well... it's simple... and meaningful." Her smile was practically identical with Han's. "I love it. How could I not?"
Relief washed over Luke and his grin quickly matched the others. And after arguing about names for about an hour, there were no standing around with goofy grins, staring at the newly christened child, who now had a name they all agreed was perfect.
They spent the next few minutes silently marveling over the baby – over Ben – until Leia eventually dozed off, head lolled to the side and lips parted slightly. The midwife came in then, politely asking them to leave, to give the new mother some space; she'd had a long day. The three complied. Well, mostly. It took Han every ounce of self-control to hand the baby over to the midwife's waiting arms, and not to just run off with his kid. Leia probably wouldn't be happy about that though. So he handed Ben over, but not before he brought the baby to his face, deeply inhaling that new baby smell (why do babies smell so good?) and pressing kiss to the soft skin of the forehead. After the midwife had Ben, Han gave Leia a matching kiss on her forehead – and she smiled in her sleep – before slowly backing out of the room, with occasional tugs on his arm from Luke, leading the way. Han saw the midwife place his kid into a little cot next to his mother's bed.
Han couldn't believe how small he was.
His kid. Little Ben Solo. He had a golden future ahead of him, Han just knew it.