Bail found his wife standing over their daughter's bassinet, the early morning light filtering in through the window. It cast an elongated shadow of the queen halfway into the nursery. He hesitated in the doorway, having made his way here after he woke up to an empty bed beside him.
Breha, almost sensing his presence, turned her head, her chin touching her shoulder, her hair down her back in a long, simple plait. "I wanted to watch her sleep," she whispered, her words interrupting the stillness of the room, the moment. "I just can't believe she's ours."
He smiled and crossed to her, hands encircling her waist from behind. He pressed his mouth against the hair at her temple. "I know," he said. "But she is. She's not going anywhere."
Breha leaned back against her husband, pushing her fingers against his knuckles. "She's so tiny." Bail had told her the story of her birth, that she'd come early - too early, really - but that she was strong, a survivor.
"She'll get bigger. She's healthy." She's safe, he thought but didn't say out loud. There was more to the story that he needed to share with Breha, but not yet. In time.
Bail bent down and pressed a kiss to the side of Breha's neck.
"I can't get her to stop crying," Breha said, panic streaking her flushed face. She held Leia in her arms and paced, the nursery dark around her. She still wore her nightgown, despite it being late morning, but the three of them had been awake since much too early in the morning, when Leia had begun crying. A blanket was thrown over one shoulder. She looked at Bail, shaking her head. "I don't know what else to do."
"Maybe she just needs to cry it out," Bail suggested, which wasn't any different than any of the other suggestions he'd had over the last five hours.
Breha shook her head again. "What if something's wrong?" She lowered her voice, spoke hoarsely. "What if she needs her mother?"
Bail took his wife by the shoulders. Leia, who was still wailing, was between them. "You're her mother, B. She knows that."
Tears prickled at Breha's eyes. "I -"
"Stop," Bail said, firmly, but at the same time with love. "Take a deep breath." It was hard for him to concentrate on Breha with Leia, red-face and screaming, right there too. As Breha did as instructed, as the glowing colors of her pulminodes peeking through the low collar of her nightgown, Bail noticed that Leia's screams began to lessen too. He rubbed Breha's shoulders. "That's it, sweetheart."
Breha's face was as sticky with dried tears as their daughter's was. She looked down at Leia as the baby hiccupped and finally quieted. "How -?"
Bail swallowed. "I think she could sense how upset we were," he admitted quietly. "And it was making her more upset too."
Breha rubbed her fingertips over the crown of Leia's head. "Bail."
"I think she'll fall asleep now," he continued on, ignoring her stern use of his name. He knew exactly what she was asking, and he didn't know how to answer her. "We should get some sleep too."
Someone told Breha it wasn't a good idea to let the baby sleep in the bed with her and Bail, but after a long evening of fussing and feeding, the fact that Leia was finally asleep was all that mattered. And if that meant she and Bail were too exhausted to move from their bed to take Leia to the nursery to sleep through the rest of the night (hopefully), then so be it.
She glanced over at her husband, sitting with his back against the headboard, one hand curled around their daughter's head. He yawned and turned, meeting her eye.
"Do you think we'll ever get a full night's sleep again?" Bail asked.
Breha smiled into a yawn. "I'm sure we will," she said. "One day. A long time from now. A very, very long time from now."
He moved his hand from Leia and reached out for his wife. "I wouldn't trade the sleepless nights for anything," he said.
She interlaced their fingers and squeezed his hand. "You did good, Bail Organa," she whispered. "This is perfect."