A small introspective piece.... Can't write a plot !
Usual disclaimers apply; these are not my characters.
E-Mail good and bad is appreciated.


Reflections.

Industria9@hotmail.com

 
I have sat in this chair many times in the last few years. It is 
where I sit to dry my hair, to braid it, to brush it out last thing 
at night. This is where I prepare for the day that lies ahead and 
where I sit late in the evening cleaning that day from my face. 
Every now and then I sit here just to think, staring at the 
reflection looking back at me...this face that is me; but somehow 
isn't. This face in the mirror .... wife, mother, sister, daughter, 
leader, princess?
Yes, these all describe me and yet none of them do. Sometimes 
when I look in the mirror I see none of these people. I just see Leia.


I believe I am a good mother. Motherhood  was not something I 
considered when I was growing up.
Other girls I'm sure play with dolls and imagine they are holding 
their future babies. I imagined, dreamed I was part of the Senate 
when I was a little girl. Bail raised me that way and I have never 
resented that upbringing. I have always taken pride in fulfilling 
my duty, my destiny as I saw it then. No, I did not dream of children.

Not remembering my mother I worried that this would affect in 
some way my being a mother. Is nurturing passed on from mother 
to daughter? On bad days during my pregnancy I cried because I 
knew no lullabies to sing to my unborn child that my mother had 
sung to me. On good days I sang old Alderaanian lullabies and 
managed not to cry.

Holding my child when she was born I suddenly accepted that I 
was a mother. As I held my daughter  and looked at her for the 
first time I knew my mother had also lived through this moment in 
her life. Kissing my daughters brow I could sense my mothers 
familiar touch all those years ago.
I feel a bond between the three of us, my daughter, my mother and I. 
My daughter smiles at me a lot. She is a happy child as I am a 
happy mother. I do not remember my mother but she remembers me. 
My mother soothed me as I soothe my daughter. I am content with 
that knowledge.


I am a good sister, or as good a sister as I can be. The bond I 
share with my brother is new to me yet it is as old as I am, as 
we are. It is a bond of friendship, of love and of hope. We are 
sometimes still shy of our feelings for each other. I think we 
miss the familiarity that growing up together would have fostered 
between us. Brothers and sisters should have many years of pointless 
arguments and sibling rivalry to look back upon. They should also 
have years of support and shared memories to lean on.

We try to overcome those lost years but intimacy between us can not 
be rushed. We are careful with one another as friends are. I long 
to not feel the need for care. Han and Chewbacca are like brothers. 
They row, they lean on each other, they support one another...there 
is no need for undue care. There is a familiarity between them that 
transcends friendship. Luke and I are still friends who just happen 
to be brother and sister. In time I hope we will be brother and 
sister who just happen to be friends. Our bond remains one of 
friendship, of love and of hope.


I was raised to be a good leader and princess. Both are so much 
a part of me there is nothing I could do to change it. I can live 
no other way. I see other people, other beings and if they need 
help I have to try to do something. I see a wrong and I must try 
to right it. I see a duty and I must fulfil it.
I sometimes long for the freedom to look away. 
I used to imagine Han and I living together on a distant planet 
where nobody knew who we were.  
Just looking after ourselves. Minding our own business while 
everyone around us minded theirs. Oh what luxury I thought! To 
be able to start again and live as I imagine some people do live, 
closing their door at night knowing nobody will call on them until 
morning. Of course it was just an idle dream. An impossible dream. 
I will always organise, help and lead in some way. I will always 
expect a call in the night. It is what my father expected and I 
gladly honour that expectation. It is what I was raised to do. 
It is what I know.


Am I a good daughter ? Are you still a daughter even when your 
parents are long gone? I believe you are.
When somebody mentions the word father, I still think of Bail. 
He raised me and therefore is my father. But raising a daughter 
with any hint of secrecy must be a hard task. I look at my daughter 
and I cannot imagine it.  Did he look at me and see my fore fathers 
looking back at him ?. In his darkest hour did he wonder what I 
would become? Or was he always sure of me; sure of himself and 
what he passed on to me ? Sometimes I am haunted by both of my 
fathers. Anakin Skywalker haunts me for obvious reasons. Bail  
for less obvious ones. My role as daughter is less clear to me 
than my other roles. I had no chance or desire to be a daughter 
to one. The other I freely gave my love to as he did to me. 
What of trust ? Can I look back and say either of them trusted me ? 
Both hid from me and I am unsure now that I do not wish to hide 
from them. I sometimes long for Lukes belief in his father or 
Hans acceptance of never knowing his. I try to remember the happy 
times with Bail. They are all I have left. I pray they are enough.
I try to be a better daughter.


It is in the role of wife that I am most content. I think though 
this has more to do with Han and less to do with me. It is easy to 
love him. "What's not to love ?..." I smile thinking of his words.. 
He is not perfect and there are things not to love but love by its 
nature is blind and I am happy to be forever in the dark where he 
is concerned. Once while I sat and gazed at my reflection in this 
same mirror his face joined mine, questioning me silently with 
a look, worried by my stillness. "What are you thinking?" he 
asked softly, his hands resting on my shoulders.
"Wondering who she is" I replied catching his eyes with mine 
in the glass as I relaxed against his hands. 
"She's my next breath" he whispered as he bent and kissed the 
top of my head. Alone again in the mirror my face smiled back 
at me. This man who says more with his eyes than his mouth 
will ever utter still manages to amaze me every now and then.
He demands nothing from me except that I do not hide from him. 
He is clever enough to realise that I do this sometimes. He 
demands honesty from me above all else. So I am honest and he 
loves me because of who I really am, not in spite of who I am. 
I could wish for no more from a partner in life.
He is my rock,  my tormentor, my escape, he is my lover, 
my saviour, my hope; he is my scoundrel. How could I not be 
happy in this role as wife and lover? He accepts with open arms 
and an open heart everything I have to offer him and he still 
asks for more from me. And I gladly give as I gratefully receive.

Who is this person who looks back at me from the mirror? 
She is everything I mentioned but she is none of them in total. 
This person remains aloof even to me, a familiar face who 
remains unfamiliar. Han says he knows her well. It is this 
person he makes love to he tells me; not the mother, the 
daughter the sister, the leader, even the princess. He says 
she is the person who fills his heart.
This is who he sees, so I most welcome her and accept her; 
I must cherish her as he does.. She is happy with me even if 
I am not totally happy with her. And so I smile at that person 
and Leia smiles back and I begin to braid my hair.