A Memory of Father
 By  E. R. Black

Summary: A short story about Bail Organa and his adopted daughter. A sweet story with a bitter ending, but enjoyable. It will only take a minute or two to read it. Come on, you know you want to...
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This is the third fanfic I've started, and so far, the first finished. It's very short, and has a brighter tone than the other two. I hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing. Thanks for taking the time. You'll live through it.

Bail Organa looked out over the Alderaanian Plains from his balcony vantage point, taking in each detail of the scene like every breath he breathed. Green grass rolled endlessly away, a small strip of blue was visible as the distant sea, and flying thrantas could be seen transporting passengers from here to there, swooping low over the grass, or soaring among the clouds.

He sighed and turned his attention to the small sort of courtyard below the balcony where he stood. He smiled to see his daughter, smiling, playing, laughing. His hand slid down the railing of the stairs leading to the courtyard below, as he placed each foot slowly to the next step, a simple task, but delayed as his mind was elsewhere. Following the curving staircase to the lawn below, he stopped short when he saw her fully.

She had woven a wreath of flowers for a crown, and her once neatly braided hair was beginning to fall loose. She undoubtedly looked beautiful, and wild; a refined tiger caught at play. For a moment, his eyes studied her face-unknowing of his presence-but saw another face. He saw her mother.

"Daddy?"

He blinked suddenly, snapped out of his short reverie. He smiled warmly at her, despite being caught daydreaming.

"Your aunts are going to throw a fit when they see the state of your hair, little princess."

Leia frowned, reached up with both hands, and felt the wispy curls that had fallen from loosening plaits. Her face split into a wide, toothy grin, and she let out a self-indulgent little giggle. Despite the grief it might cost her aunts, (who insisted on grooming her to become a "proper princess", as they called it) he realized that it was this, the little moments of play, that really counted.

Smiling a little self-indulgently himself, he plopped to the ground next to her. She lay back against the fresh smelling spring grass, and opened her eyes to watch the fluffy, gold-streaked clouds lazily float across the sky before her.

"I don't mind," She confided, "They're just looking for a reason to sit me down and rip my hair out trying to re-braid it."

"I don't know about that, Leia. Someday they're just going to hack it all off with a butcher knife," he said with a wink.

"Fair trade! They can chop it off if they want. I'd just as soon get rid of it all and save them the trouble of re- doing it."

He smiled a little, savoring the informal moment. It seemed that whenever he spent any quality time with his daughter, some unheard of hindrance would appear out of nowhere to take him from her. Someday, he promised himself, it would end.

"When did you get back from Coruscant?" She asked, opening heavy eyelids and looking up at him.

He sighed a little. "About an hour ago. Your Aunt Rouge threw another of her fits because I was late, and then I had a call…" he stopped, aware that he shouldn't try and unload everything onto her. "I was looking for you. You don't seem to like being found."

She gave him one of her toothy grins. "Only sometimes. How can I mess up my hair if Aunt Celly is around to watch?" she teased.

She slowly shut her eyes, relaxing into a daydream. "Someday I want to be a Senator, and go to Coruscant, and speak for Alderaan. You can teach me everything! And I'll get to meet the Emperor, and go to the Senate meetings-"

"Meet the Emperor? Why do you want to meet the Emperor?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him, as though it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. "Well doesn't everyone?"

He stared at her thoughtfully in the following seconds of silence. "You ought to get out more." She told him, sounding more like a peer than the twelve-year-old girl that she was. "Not everyone is like you, you know."

He smiled to try to hide his small waver of discomfort. She didn't seem to sense it. "I suppose I should. I think that we-"

"Aunt Celly is calling you." She interrupted, turned toward the balcony a story above as if expecting to see someone. Less than a split second later, Aunt Celly's face appeared.

"Bail-what on earth are you doing-I've been looking everywhere, I was about to scream for you-" she seemed to shudder at the thought of doing something so undignified.

He turned inexplicably to his daughter.

"She screamed, though." Leia said solemnly. "I heard her. Didn't you?"

"Bail, are you coming?"

He rose slowly to his feet and offered a hand down to Leia, which she accepted, then she proceeded to brush off her dress like the well bred Alderaanian princess that she was supposed to act like.

"Coming!" he called vaguely upward, then addressed Leia. "I'm sorry, sweetheart-I'll see you later, alright?"

She nodded, and he kissed her forehead, turning to leave-

"Daddy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You're helping the Rebel Alliance, aren't you?"

The question caught him off guard. A few stray words fumbled out of his mouth, but she waved them off.

"I know. It's okay, too. When I'm a Senator, I'll help them too."

A slow smile found its way to his face, and for a moment he felt proud of a daughter that was so fearlessly determined to follow in his footsteps.

"Bail-really! Come here…" His sister's voice called from somewhere above. With a final glance at his daughter, he raced up the stairs-but slowed when he reached the top.

The Alderaanian sky hung clear and blue above his head, and for a light-hearted moment, all was right in the world. Leia trudged inside through a door on the lower floor, and as he watched her receding form, he realized something very important.

He may not have been her real father. He could not have been her real father, he thought. But no matter who her real father happened to be, he alone deserved the title of "Daddy". And he would rather have that than all the riches of the Royal Alderaan Family. He would have that for as long as this time would last.

Six years later, Alderaan was destroyed by the Death Star's lethal blast, Princess Leia forced to watch aboard its deck. Restrained by a man she had never known as "Daddy", but perhaps genealogically responsible.

No one knew it would be over so soon.

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