Saga - PT So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail (Bail/Breha) - Completed

Title: So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail
Author: Briannakin
Characters: Breha Antilles, Bail Organa, many OCs
Timeframe: 28 BBY (onward)
Genre: Romance
Categorization: I guess since I’m ignoring much of the (confusing) Legends EU about Bail, this can be considered Disney-Canon.

Notes: The idea for this fic came from when I was writing Iron Butterfly. Some of the scenes come from flashbacks in that fic, but this won’t lead to that AU.

Also, this will probably be a longer story done in several parts (part 1 isn’t even done yet so I can’t promise regular updates just yet). So to keep my “Fic Attention Deficit” issues at bay, there may be several weeks between parts ending/starting, so I can do tags or PMs.


Prologue

She never believed In soul mates, love at first sight or fairytales. She believed that humanoids were bags of water, driven by chemicals with the goal to procreate. The notion of love was true, wonderfully divine and fundamental to all life, but it didn’t come in an instant and remain - without any effort at least - forever and always. Life never began with “once upon a time” and ended with “and they lived happily ever after.” She never believed in fairytales.

But perhaps that was a good thing. Because she never was a princess… not for very long anyways.

This is a story of a queen; a woman meant for so much more than fairytales.


Part 1

Chapter 1

“Karfling, piece of shavit, damned alarm.” Breha Antilles hurled the packet of curses at no one in particular as she ran down the pebbled path towards her speeder. She opened the back door and dumped her armful of flimsy and data-pad cards onto the already messy back seat. She quickly slipped her heels on her feet and got into the driver’s seat.

Flipping back her uncurled, unstyled mess of thick black hair, she pressed the ignition button. The old speeder whined, moaned and ultimately failed to start.

“Why TODAY?” she hurled at the sky. First her alarm chrono failed to go off, now her speeder had finally bit the dust. All on the day of her second staff meeting at Alderaan’s Ministry of Education. As a junior advisor, she had to be there.

Making a split decision, she kicked off her heels, picked them up along with all her flimsy work and ran to the nearest the transit-speeder stop, just outside of the neighbourhood where she and six of her friends rented a house. She was simply glad that she had grabbed a flowing tea-length skirt and black blouse instead of one of her usual tighter dresses to put on this morning. It was easier to run in; a small blessing.

Then the skies opened and began pouring rain on her.

At least she had forgone her make-up this morning.

* * *

Two transit speeders and a transit-train later, during which she decided that she needed an actual work bag and either a new speeder or a place in the city centre of Aldera, Breha ran up the large stone stairs of the Ministry of Education. She was so late for her meeting that she didn’t even have time to check her chrono to see how late she was.

Soaking wet and dashing through the halls barefoot, she paid no attention to who or what was around each corner. She was getting to her meeting, even if she killed someone.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, she turned a corner and ran smack into a moving object. Surprised, Breha fell backwards, dropping her flimies, datacards and her shoes. She tried to catch her fall by putting her hands behind her, but something in her arm snapped as soon as her palm hit the cold marble floor.

She screamed in pain. “Why can’t some kriffing windbags watch where they are going!?” she railed, trying not to cry. Suddenly aware of the beings gathering around her. Her cheeks started to go pink.

“I am so very sorry,” an oddly familiar voice said. Unfortunately, Breha was panicking about her clearly broken left wrist and the staff meeting she was clearly going to miss to look up. “Are you alright?”

Breha then looked up and was face to face with the Prince of Alderaan. Prince Bail Prestor Organa, face etched with a look of concern, was trying to hand her the heels that she had dropped. It was then that she remembered that the prince was here, meeting the new minister of education. Embarrassment turned into mortification.

Breha’s mouth went dry. “I… uh… sorry, so sorry… fault… mine,” she babbled as she tried to gather her belongings. She winced in pain as she tried to move her wrist.

“Oh, my, here,” Bail said, reaching forward and stabilizing her arm with his large hands. “I think it’s broken,” he told her. He then looked at the dozen people gathering Breha’s things. “Can someone call a medic?” He looked at Breha. “What is your name?”

She froze, forgetting her own name. It felt like an eternity before she managed to get out, “Breha Antilles.”

“Of the House of Antilles?”

She nodded.

“Is your brother Raymus?”

“Cousin,” she fumbled out. “Ray is my cousin.”

“Ah, he’s a friend of mine. Wonderful pilot.” He then smiled. “He has never mentioned such a beautiful cousin.”

Breha felt her face flash red and she was suddenly very aware of her sweaty hand in the prince’s. She tried to get away, but he held onto her wrist.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding genuine. “You don’t need some old man hitting on you when you’ve clearly had a bad day. But I don’t want you moving your arm. I think it may be serious. I’ll wait with you until the medics come.” He then looked up again. “Can someone let Breha’s superiors know that she is injured and isn’t to be penalized for missing her work today?”

One of his aids nodded and left.

“What room is your office?” Bail asked her. “I’ll get someone to bring your stuff up there.”

“516, but it’s fine, I can get it.”

“No, you are going to a medcentre.”

It was then that two uniformed medics came, bowed to Bail, then began to tend to Breha. Bail was gone before she had a chance to see him leave.

* * *

Breha sighed as the med-droid finished injecting the bone knitters into her wrist and began on the bacta cast. She had broken two bones in her wrist, but thankfully she did not need surgery. Her boss had already contacted her, telling her it was fine if she took the rest of the day off. Frankly, between the pain medication the medics gave her and her residual embarrassment, she simply wanted to go home, curl up with some choco-buds and maybe even a glass of Sullust Scotch.

“So, I heard you ran into our prince,” a voice chuckled from behind the medcentre divider. Raymus Antilles emerged with a smug grin. Tall, with a strong chiseled face, normally her cousin, who was more like an older brother to Breha since they were raised together, normally brought a smile to Breha’s face. Now, she just groaned.

“Go away Ray.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, clearly enjoying the situation. “Bail contacted me himself, saying he had hurt you and that he was extremely worried about you. I personally think it’s absolutely hilarious.”

The med-droid interjected. “We are all done here ma’am. You can be discharged now.”

“Come on Bre, let’s get you home.”

Raymus signed the discharge papers and got her in his speeder. There she told him about her positively horrible day.

“And it isn’t even lunch hour yet.” He actually had the gall to laugh. “Let’s get you home and in bed before you accidentally kill yourself. I’ll take a look at your speeder.”

“Thanks,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Is there any way I can get you to forget all this?”

“Nope, but you can keep me quiet.”

“How? Because if Deara, or worse, Grandmother,” Breha winced at the thought of her sister or her paternal grandmother finding out about today’s events, “found out, I would be killed.”

Raymus snorted. “Darn right. Anyways, I don’t know what I want from you to keep my silence. But when the time comes, it’s going to be good.”

“I would expect as much.”

* * *

That evening, Breha lounge on the couch with three of her roommates. They were all females that she had gone to university with. She had told them the story of the broken wrist, not that any of them completely believed her.

They were all in their pyjamas, eating take-out food out of plasti containers and watching their favourite celebrity gossip show. Gossipa! wasn’t just a holo-show on Alderaan, it was a culture; a way of life.

“Gosh, what a bunch of sexy beasts we are,” Oetiann said. She was a fiery red-head Breha had known since secondary school.

“I know,” Presha said with a snort. “And we wonder why we are all single.”

“Shut up you two,” Reesha, Presha’s twin sister, said as she grabbed the holo-remote. The twins shared the same soft features and soft brown hair. “News on the prince is on.” She turned up the volume.

Prince Bail Organa and his love endeavours was something of a common news story nearly every Alderaanian followed. Bail’s mother, Queen Mazicia was growing old and people surmised that she was ill. Bail, having no living siblings, presented somewhat of an issue to Alderaan’s future. Being male, he could not inherit the matriarchal throne - even if it was mostly a figure-head position - instead, he had to find a wife. However, at 39, he had never been in a steady relationship. As a result of all this, it had been the queen’s mission for the past two years to find her son a wife. All the nobel women of Alderaan had been profiled and then some were selected to go on dates with Bail.

Breha and Oetiann had both been profiled since they both came from noble families, however, both being 17 years younger than the prince, neither was holding their breaths to be selected. Not that either wanted to be forced into an arranged marriage. However, they, like every other citizen, enjoyed the news of Bail’s constant dates. After all, whoever he selected to be his wife would become Queen of the planet.

“I can’t watch this,” Breha said with a groan.

“Oh, come on,” Presha said, opening her data-pad. Anyone could access the information on the woman Bail was dating on any particular night, but only on the night he was dating her. “The ditz he’s out with tonight is 30, but she’s the daughter of some mining tycoon. Some real rich spoiled girl.”

Just as Breha was about to fight for the remote, Bail appeared on the screen, walking along with some bimbo. She was talking to the camera. He clearly was not listening and not enjoying himself.

Breha and her roommates laughed loudly. His misery was palpable, even through the view screen.

“Oh stars,” Reesha. “Alderaan is going to chaos.”

“If this woman becomes our next queen, I’m moving to Corellia,” Breha murmured, taking a sip of her scotch and fizz.

“Well, at the rate you’re drinking, your half-way to becoming some drinking, blaster wielding pirate,” Oetiann chuckled.

“Ah, shut up.”

“I think either of you would make a better queen than this dumb sloot — look at that dress!” Presha exclaimed. “I can see everything.”

Both Breha and Oetiann laughed.

“Never going to happen,” Breha said.

“Well, then,” Reesha said. “We’d better get packing for Corellia.”

“Then Breha had better pass the booze,” Oetiann said, swiping the bottle off the caff table. “Because we are all going too need it.”

Again, they all laughed.

* * *

“She was so beautiful,” Bail heaved as he sat in a chair by his mother’s bed. His mother was growing alarmingly thin, yet her elegance had not faded with age. She wore her grey hair up and had a white nightgown on.

“You’ve spent more time talking about this girl you ran into this morning than your date with Lanece Jecet,” his mother remarked. She tapped her data-pad a few times with a worn finger. “I take it you won’t wish to see Ms. Jecet again.”

Bail sighed. “She was a dud. Honestly, I could not stand her.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Queen Mazicia said. “Public opinions have been coming in on her and they are rather poor. No, you need a woman with her head on her shoulders - or at least one who knows she doesn’t. I know you are searching for love, but I am not doing so well.”

Bail closed his eyes. “I know. I just want to find someone both I, and the people, can stand.”

“Perhaps time for dating new women has passed. Perhaps you should contact Lady Kartas. I know she was rather… dim, but she is a sweet woman, good pedigree, and will do whatever you wish. Yes, you will probably have to rule behind the scenes, but you can do that.”

Bail could do that. He could rule Alderaan and just tell Lady Kartas what to say and do, but he did not want to do that. He wanted a wife he could have an intelligent conversation with, yet who did want want the crown to pursue her own agenda.

“Can you search the profiles for me?” Bail asked.

“The name?”

“Antilles. Breha Antilles.”

“Antilles - good family,” Queen Mazicia keyed in the name. “She’s here. Very pretty,” she remarked. “Good education, government job, but she’s 22. I don’t think her age is an issue, but she might.” She then turned off the data-pad. “You are tiring me, Bail. I need rest.”

“Okay,” Bail sighed, helping his mother lie down. “Goodnight.”

“You’ll find someone,” she said with a sigh. “I promise.”

 

I liked the entire piece here --- I know I've had quite a few days like this - but I never bumped into someone that I wanted to see again --- that kind of meeting is not in the cards for me. When you continue, please tag me in.

 

Nice to see a not-so-common romance explored and, though I'm yet to give your diary the comments it deserves, I am going to be reading this.

How great could it possibly be? A romcom set in GFFA!

So far, it reminds me of that film with Julia Stiles and a "prince of Denmark", though there are fine parallels with other chick flicks, such as Kate and Leopold. A classic romcom trope where everything that could go wrong on a seemingly random day goes wrong and, boom, there he is, the man of her dreams.

My favourite part would be the girls watching the news...getting mean towards random strangers and so on. You pictured this perfectly.

Eagerly awaiting more!

 

Liked the crashing into Bail scene his solicitude and her cousin's teasing. Loved the banter among friends too. Awww with Bail and his mother. She seems a sensible pragmatic sort and it's sad the reason she's pushing the marriage issue.

 

Always nice to see Bail and Breha fic! Interesting to think of Bail's courtship process as a reality tv show.

 

Ah! The meet-cute!
I just love this couple, and I'm so happy we are seeing Bail's side of the romance. He deserves a smart, compassionate woman like Breha, and so do the people of Alderaan.
Great angle to explore.

 

I actually thought more of a sassy Snow and Prince Charming!

But no matter what triggered this gorgeous idea of yours, it came out brilliant.

Prince Bail Organa and his love endeavours was something of a common news story nearly every Alderaanian followed. Bail’s mother, Queen Mazicia was growing old and people surmised that she was ill. Bail, having no living siblings, presented somewhat of an issue to Alderaan’s future. Being male, he could not inherit the matriarchal throne - even if it was mostly a figure-head position - instead, he had to find a wife. However, at 39, he had never been in a steady relationship. As a result of all this, it had been the queen’s mission for the past two years to find her son a wife. All the nobel women of Alderaan had been profiled and then some were selected to go on dates with Bail.

I would love to read more any time soon, if I can manage.

 

AN: Thanks everyone for reading!

Ewok_Poet:

AHAHAHA! The Prince and Me? I loved that movie as a pre-teen. I didn't even realize it, but I totally drew so much inspiration from that movie. I just found out they had 3 sequels. I tried to watch the first. It was REALLY BAAAD. I got like 20 minutes into it. And yes, the first chapter was majorly trope-y. (Hopefully) the future chapters will be a little less trope-y.

And I'm so glad everyone is liking the idea for a Bail/Breha fic. I've been having so much fun writing this.

Tag list: Gemma

Chapter 2

Breha sighed as she tried to continue to type with one hand. She had gotten to work after the weekend to find out that she did indeed - thankfully - still have a job. Not that her co-workers were going to let her forget the incident that left her in a bacta-cast. So she was content to eat her lunch in her small office while she caught up with work that she had missed.

There then was a slight knock at the door.

“Yes?” Breha called, brushing a piece of straightened hair out of her face.

The door opened and in the threshold stood the Prince of Alderaan. “May I come in?” He was wearing crisp grey pants with a muted blue sweater under an open black over-robe. His black hair was slicked back and facial hair neatly groomed. In his hands was a vase of deep purple riesum flowers.

Something inside of Breha made her want to crawl under her desk and disappear.

Somehow, her body stood up and curtsied. At least she was wearing shoes and had her hair done today. “Certainly, Prince Organa,” she rushed to say. “I’m sorry for crashing into you the other day, and I’m sorry for what I called you.”

He chuckled lightly. “Please, call me Bail,” he said, setting the flowers on the corner of her desk. “And don’t be sorry. It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I deserved to be called a windbag, Ms. Antilles.”

“Please, call me Breha. What can I do for you?”

“I’m here on pleasure, Breha, not business,” he said, flashing her a white tooth grin. “I was wondering if you would accompany me to dinner tonight…” he then looked down and clearly saw the cast. “To make up for me apparently breaking your arm.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said.

“Please. It would be my honour. Besides, I told my mother about your beauty. She looked you up and was very impressed with your resume.”

Breha tightened her posture. “I am not interested in becoming Queen of Alderaan.” She had no desire to marry someone she hardly knew and rule over a planet.

Something lit up in his rich brown eyes. “All the more reason for us to have dinner. I am tired of listening to women who only have power on their minds.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m saying yes, but only because I now feel sorry for you and my grandmother will kill me if I don’t. But this is purely professional. I do not want to end up on the headlines of Gossipa! as your latest suitress.”

His grin was priceless. “I will make reservations for Ernl’s for 1900 standard time. Shall I send a speeder?”

“No,” she replied. She was so thankful that Raymus had fixed her speeder, at least for now. She wanted to arrive and leave this dinner - for she refused to think of it as a date - of her own accord. “I will meet you there.”

“I look forward to it. The reservations will be under the name Prestor.” He bowed and left her office.

Breha actually laughed as she spun in her office chair. She - probably the only woman on Alderaan who did not want to marry Bail Organa and become queen - had a date with the crown prince.

* * *

“Who is your hot date?” Clarkia asked in a song-tone as she tied the corset back of Breha’s dress. Clarkia was a dark-skinned human with dark eyes and black, frizzy hair. She was one of the other women Breha shared the house with.

“It’s just a work dinner thing,” Breha lied as she smoothed out the dark blue dress - it was elegant, yet simple and modest with a square neckline and flowing sleeves. Her hair was back in a single braid.

“Really?” Clarkia mused. “In that dress?”

Breha scoffed as she put on a black outer robe with a large hood. It was early spring in Aldera, so the evenings still got quite cold. “Yes,” she said. She would have been lying to herself if she claimed she was not slightly nervous. Even if she had no fantasy involving becoming queen, an embarrassing dinner would still look bad for her family. “Now, I got to go make a fool of myself.”

* * *

“I believe the reservations are for Prestor,” Breha said to the young waiter. She had thankfully made it to the restaurant only 5 minutes late, despite the horrible sounds her speeder had been making. Raymus’ repairs were not holding her baby together.

The waiter’s green eyes lit up as soon as he heard the name. “Oh!” he said in surprise. “Your date is not here yet, my lady, but I can show you to the private room he has reserved.”

“It’s just a work-dinner,” she corrected him, “but that would be lovely.”

The waiter, who had a cute bum Breha admitted to herself, led her to a small private room with a small table for two on the second floor of the restaurant. The table was by a large glass window, providing a scenic view of Aldera’s classy entertainment district. The waiter pulled out her chair, helped her take off her outer robe and she sat down. He handed her menus. “May I start you with a drink while you wait?”

“Just water, for now,” Breha said, opening the menu. She looked at the prices and wondered what in the galaxy she had gotten herself into. She probably would have to stick to soup.

* * *

“More water Miss?” the waiter asked Breha for the fourth time.

Breha glanced at the chrono on her datapad. She had pulled it out to play a game on to kill the time. It was past 1930 hours. The prince was over a half an hour late. She sighed. “You know what? No. I am done waiting for him.” She got up, stashed her data pad in her purse and began to throw on her robe. “I’m going to leave a nice tip to make up for the water that I drank and your lovely service, but I have too much pride to wait for him any longer.”

Then, an older, slightly obese, bald gentleman came rushing in. “Miss Antilles? I’m Toruni, the owner of this establishment. I just received a communication from Prince Organa. He is terribly sorry, he got held up at the palace and realized he never got your comm code to contact you. He said he asked your cousin what you enjoyed eating and has ordered your dinner already. He assured me he will be here within the next few minutes.”

“No,” Breha said. “I have no idea why I came here in the first place. It wasn’t for myself in any way. I actually felt sorry for the prince; having to have dinner with women night after night whose company he clearly does not enjoy. But if he is going to be so late, I will not take it.”

“Please,” Toruni begged. “He will not be pleased with us if we let you leave.”

Breha rolled her eyes and sat down. “He has five minutes.”

Bail finally ascended the spiraling staircase after four minutes. “Oh, thank goodness your haven’t left yet. Please don’t get up to bow,” he said as he saw her begin to rise. He approached the table and took off his black coat. “I am so very sorry for being late. My mother had a bit of a medical emergency and then I realized I didn’t have your comm code and Raymus didn’t have your new code.” He then sat down. “I am truly deeply sorry and so glad you are still here.”

“Is the queen alright?” Breha asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yes. It was merely a small fit of exhaustion. I can’t go into much detail for her privacy, but once she was feeling better, she realized that she has made me late for our dinner and rushed me out of her bedchambers.”

Breha sighed. “I can’t fault a man for circumstances out of his control. You are simply lucky - I almost did leave.”

“And I would have deserved it.”

The waiter then approached the table and bowed. “Your Serene Highness, I’m glad you made it. Here are the starters you ordered,” he said, placing two small appetizer plates of rolled geewii fish and grains in front of Bail and Breha. “The chief assures me that the entrees should be ready shortly. May I get you anything to drink?”

“A glass of the house wine, please,” Bail ordered. “Are you drinking anything, Miss Antilles?”

“It’s Breha,” she corrected him. “And just water.”

“Please, no, dinner is completely on me - I did break your arm - so let me get you a drink as well for being late.”

“Fine,” she said. She looked up at the waiter. “I’ll have a fizz and scotch. But only a point five - I do have to drive home.”

The waiter nodded, then left.

Unsure of what to do or say, Breha stuffed one of the fish rolls in her mouth.

“So, you are fizz and scotch kind of lady,” he said. For a man who had apparently gone on so many dates over the years, he sure wasn’t a professional at this.

Breha blushed slightly, nodded and swallowed. “My grandmother says my alcohol preference is possibly one of the most un-lady-like things, but I don’t care. I’m no lady.”

Bail stifled a laugh. “I have to admit, I’ve been asking Raymus about you since I ran into you - literally - and that is the first thing he told me about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Good to know he’s not trying to talk me up.”

The waiter then returned with their drinks. “So what else did dear old cousin Raymus tell you about me?” Breha asked, genuinely curious. She wondered if her cousin had tried to set her up with the prince by lying.

“Well, he told me that you and your sister was raised by your paternal grandparents after your father passed away and that you grew up as Raymus’ sister.”

She nodded. “Yeah, people think it is odd that our mother didn’t send us to be raised with her family, but she knew the Antilles could give us the adolescence that our father wanted us to have, with private schools and universities. My mother was, of course, around, but was never the mothering type. She is a civil engineer, so that pretty much has taken up her entire life. So my older sister and I spent a lot of time trailing around after Ray and his brothers.” Breha felt a bit odd opening up to him, but Bail was nodding and listening intently.

“He said you went to University of Aldera. I went there as well. I did my degrees in Political Science and Intergalactic Law.”

She wanted to say ‘I know,’ but instead she nodded and ate another roll. “I got a joint degree in Education and Political Science.”

“Why?” he asked, sounding curious.

“I could never decide between becoming a teacher or working for the government, so I thought it best to leave my options open. Then, after graduation, the Ministry of Education offered me a job and I jumped on it. I’ve been loving my time there over the past few months.” She then took a drink. “Sorry, I don’t talk this much normally.”

“I don’t mind,” he said with a smile. “It’s actually just kind of nice to get to know a person.”

“Then what’s the deal with the Gossipa! Holo news?”

Bail sighed. “Whoever I marry is going to rule over a planet. It’s my sad reality. The people have to like her. Holo sludgers are going to harass whoever I even see, so I made a deal with Gossipa!. They get exclusives and get to publish the profiles for 12 hours. In return they keep the less professional sludgers off of my dates’ backs.”

The waiter then approached with their main courses. They continued to idly chat as they ate dinner. The subjects ranged from intergalactic affairs to holos.

“You seriously haven’t been to a holo theatre in ten years?” Breha asked.

“No, no women I have ever dated has ever wanted to go with me, and I always feel weird going alone with my aids. But I really want to see the new Keko Sedane holo coming out.”

“Wow,” she said, “I can’t believe I actually feel bad for you.” She then took the last bite of her delicious roasted necio and pachette bread. “That was so good. Thank you for ordering that for me.”

“Do you have room for dessert?”

Breha laughed. “Normally I would, but I am stuffed and I have to get back home. Some people have to work tomorrow.”

“Alright, let me get the bill and I can walk you out to your speeder.” He waved the waiter over and handed him his cred-card. “I had a great time tonight,” he said, getting up and getting her outer-robe. “Could I get your comm-code?”

She got up and allowed him to help her put it on. “I had a great time too,” she said as the waiter handed back Bail’s cred-card. Then she knew she had to do it. “But I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I do not want to be forced into anything long term. You need someone looking for marriage, someone who can run a planet, someone who knows how to behave and be a lady. I’m 22. I am not any of those things. Tonight was wonderful, thank you for dinner. I hope you find a woman who you can be happy with. I’m sorry, but that isn’t me.”

With her head held high, she descended the stairs and hurried out into the raining night.

 

Bail's lateness almost spoilt things but the reason was legit. They had a scrumptious meal and were entertaining conversationalists with one another... great stuff all up and down the line. But Breha's caution and "farewell" were quite assertive and firm. I like her tone. She knows what she wants and what Bail needs politically/socially, and feels she doesn't fit those things. She certainly doesn't want the 24/7 scrutiny! "That kind of power and prestige doesn't tempt me in the slightest, " that's definitely gotta be refreshing for Bail to encounter. It'll make the royal groupies even more irritating

Looking forward to how he persuades her for a second date.

Lord, but I love the process of getting-there!

 

I find it fascinating how she told him that she's not for him. I get just the opposite - I want a relationship and guys I meet don't want one. And I too look forward to how he will get her to go on a second date.

 

This is something brand new for Bail - a woman who isn't scrambling all over te place to get his attention. And as much as Breha hopes it will make him back off, I bet it will do just the opposite and intrigue him.

The part about the deal with Gossipa! Magazine sounds very plausible. Just another setback to life in the public eye, I suppose.

Can't wait to read more.

 

I liked your take on Bail/Breha in Iron Butterfly and although this is apparently not a connected story (?), it has a lot of the things that I liked there. So that's neat! This looks like a very entertaining story (and the subplot with the reality shows is cute -- I can just imagine how sick Bail would be of that nonsense after a while). Breha's conversation with Raymus was fun and I like that it builds on that one little piece of information about them being raised together.

 

Breha actually laughed as she spun in her office chair. She - probably the only woman on Alderaan who did not want to marry Bail Organa and become queen - had a date with the crown prince.

I laugh even more, because you can´t always get what you want. Hugh Laurie as Doctor Gregory House taught me that, when I watched the series.

They are really meant for one another, because she is witty, funny and truthful.

 

AN: Thanks for reading everyone. And yeah, Bail wants what he just can't have

No, this isn't really connected as this is 100% movie canon compatible, but technically this could be a prequel to that diary, but the two won't connect.

Chapter 3

With a sigh, Breha shut down her data pads and closed her workbooks. It was another end to a very long week. After her date with Prince Organa, nothing much but a whole lot of work and meetings filled her life.

She grabbed her bag and her coat and was glad when the door to her office door closed behind her. Saying goodbye to some of her colleagues, she made her way down the speeder parkade. Breha slid into the seat and pressed the ignition switch.

Nothing happened.

She pressed the switch again, pressing it down longer.

Again, nothing happened.

Breha swore. “Kriff!” She wanted to cry. She just wanted to go home and forget about work and the government.

She pulled out her comm and dialled a code she knew by heart. “Raymus,” she whined. “My speeder won’t start. Why does life hate me?”

A chuckle crackled from the speaker. “I’ll come rescue you, Brebre.”

* * *

Raymus showed up within a few minutes with a tow-speeder and a cup of caff. He gave Breha a hug. She sipped the dark, steaming liquid as she watched the mechanic inspect her speeder.

He was quick to give the bad news. “I’m not sure how it survived this long. I’m going to be honest because I used to go to school with Raymus, but no one is going to be able to fix this for less than what the speeder is worth.”

“Scrap it,” Breha said with a sigh. “I’m honestly just done with life,” she said, stalking off to get into Raymus’ speeder.

Her cousin joined her. “Besides the speeder, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just been a long week,” she complained. “And I’m really not in the mood to go used speeder shopping.”

“You can ask Grandmother and Poppa for help buying a new speeder.”

“I know. I was just so close to being able to afford one on my own. I’m going to think about it though. Maybe I can still do it if I get approved for some sort of loan or search around for a deal.”

“Alright, I’m here if you need help,” Raymus said as he starting his speeder. “So,” he said after some silence had passed. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you this, but how did your date with Prince Organa go?”

“It wasn’t a date,” she insisted. “It was just dinner. But it was very lovely night. I really enjoyed myself.”

“Then why didn’t you give him your code?”

“If he told you that, then he must have also told you that I made it clear to him that I don’t want to even be thought of as a candidate for queen. I’m 22, I don’t want to be married anytime soon.”

“He told me that he really had a fun time with you.”

“That’s great, but I’m sorry if I just want a normal life and a chance at happiness with a normal guy. The prince is a lovely gentleman, and any woman would be lucky to spend the rest of her life with him.”

“Maybe you aren’t meant for a normal life, Bre,” Raymus said frankly. “Maybe you are meant for so much more than true love.”

“I don’t believe in true love and fairytales,” she replied flatly, staring out at the blurring, passing lights. “There are some odd hundred-billion humanoids in the galaxy. There is no one person out there for me to find. You either find someone who you can put up with the rest of your life, or you make yourself happy. But I do believe in the freedom to choose.”

“And what if you have a choice between letting some dumb bimbo rule Alderaan or worse, letting our way of life go to Corellian Hell, or perhaps making a change for the better.” Raymus then signed. “Bail has been depressed since your date.”

“Don’t tell me I broke his heart.”

“He told me he had the most wonderful time with you. He’s been forced to date di’kuts and self-entitled, power-hungry women who think they will become the next Queen of the Universe. He had resigned himself to try to marry the lesser of the evils, then you came along. After he crashed into you, all he could ask about was you.”

“Really?” Breha whined. “He’s infatuated with me because I’m a normal woman.”

“You are anything but normal. Bre, he’s moping around. I’m calling in that favour you owe me, for not telling anyone about the broken wrist incident, and for rescuing you.”

“Fine,” she murmured. “What do you want?”

“For you to go on a date with Bail.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“A real date - do the dumb interview with the dumb gossip holo, have a good time. Just because you go on a date does not mean you have to marry the guy and become queen.”

“Raymus,” she gritted out.

“It’s either that or I tell Grandmama.”

“Fine,” she murmured. “You can tell Prince Organa that if he wants to take me on a date, I am free tomorrow evening and the day after - after you and I go speeder shopping.”

Raymus snorted. “Two dates in one day. You are one lucky lady.”

“Yeah,” she said, sarcastically. “I’m the luckiest lady in the galaxy.”

* * *

Breha was on her bed that evening, drying her hair after her sani-steam when her comm rang. Without thinking, she answered it. “Bre here, what do you want?”

“Breha? It’s Bail. Raymus gave me your number and told me it was fine to comm you.”

“Prince Organa!”

“Yes, is this okay? I don’t want to seem like some kind of stalker.”

“No… yes, I mean,” she said, getting flustered. She honestly had no idea why. She took a breath. “This is fine. I don’t think you are some kind of stalker.”

“Good. I know you said you didn’t want what I need, but I was wondering if you would consider going to the farmer’s market with me the day after tomorrow? I’ll be honest, I would like you to give me a shot. Besides, it’s the opening weekend for the market season, there’ll be plenty of fresh produce. I’d love to make you a meal.”

“Aright,” she said, softly, not believing her own words. “But am currently without a speeder.”

“I can pick you up.” Breha could hear the eagerness in his voice. “Around 1400 work for you?”

“Yes. I will see you then.”

* * *

“I love you so much,” Breha squealed, as she drove her new speeder. She had bought a brand new speeder with a small loan directly from Raymus. The blue speeder was small, but practical. And it was brand new. It did not make horrible sounds or start only fifty percent of the time.

Raymus laughed from the passenger seat. “Your welcome, but I didn’t do this for nothing.”

“I told you I will pay you back with my next few paychecks.”

“I know, and I’m not worried, but I just want you to give Bail a chance tomorrow. He’s a wonderful guy. I’ve known him for quite awhile, and I’ve known you all your life. You guys could be so wonderful. Just give him a chance.”

“I will, I will,” she assured him. “Just so long as he isn’t late this time.”

* * *

Breha pursed her lips as she sat on the stairs in the front entrance of her house. She was so glad that none of her roommates were around to see her getting stood up by her date. She had told her roommates that she was going on a date with the prince, but they didn’t believe her. They all needed to go to the mall anyways for some reason or another.

She had her hair up in a bun with a few curls hanging down and framing her face. She had decided on a casual light blue dress with a modest scoop neckline, a tie around the waist and sleeves that stopped at her elbows. As soon as her chrono hit 1430, she kicked off her grey work heels, threw them across the living room and sprawled out on the hard floor.

“I can’t believe I wasted make-up on today,” she told the ceiling. She contemplated going and getting alcohol - was it sad to start drinking at 1430? Of course it was. The floor was much too comfortable anyways.

The chime then rang. Breha rushed to get up and open the door. Bail stood on the front step with a handful of dark purple riesum flowers. “I’m late and you look like you want to kill me.”

“I told Raymus that I would give you a chance, but only if you weren’t late.”

“I honestly wish I had a good excuse, but I got really lost and lost track of time. I’m used to having your cousin drive me around.”

She laughed. “Come on in; find a vase in the kitchen. I’ll go get my shoes. I’m only going with you because I know you’ll get lost again and I don’t want to be blamed for when the Prince of Alderaan goes missing.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.” He entered as she went to find her shoes. “You have a lovely place here.”

“I share it with five other women,” she said, putting on her shoes. “It’s nice, but it can get a little crazy around here. I made sure that they were gone. Though none of them believed me that I was actually going on a date with you.”

“Is your distaste of me that vocal?” he asked, emerging from the kitchen, rubbing his facial hair.

“Well, do you really want me to answer that?”

“Yes, I do. Before we go on this date, I want to know what’s your problem with me - besides the fact that you are the only woman on the planet that doesn’t want to be queen.”

“Well,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “If you really want to know, I think you are 39-years-old, you’ve KNOWN that you are the only heir to the Alderaani thrown and needed to find a wife to be queen for years. Yet you wasted those years and now you have the choice between dull bibbs your age, or girls half your age.”

Bail nodded. “I deserve that. But perhaps I just wasted just enough years to find the right woman.”

Breha rolled her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

He offered her his arm and escorted her out. He opened the door to her speeder and she glided in.

In his speeder, a fancy black sports model, he debriefed her. “Now, we are going to be followed around the farmers market by that holo-news - they are fairly decent, just try not to run into anyone -”

“Hey!” she exclaimed, picking up on his jab.

He grinned. “- But there will only be a few questions and afterwards I want to take you to the palace and make you dinner. I have arranged it so that there will only be the two of us. I want to get to know you Breha Antilles, even if you don’t find me irresistible.”

* * *

Breha walked beside Bail as a holocam and a perky human interviewer in a bright red skirt-suit asked them - mainly her - questions.

“Ms. Antilles, tell us about yourself,” the interviewer asked, her blonde top-knot slightly leaning to one side.

She and Bail stopped at a stand to look at a selection of root vegetables.

“I went to the University of Aldera, I have a joint degree in education and political science,” she said, unsure of what to say.

“She currently works at the Ministry of Education,” Bail added. “That is where we met.”

“Oh!” the interviewer said, sounding much too excited. “How did you guys meet?”

Breha saw Bail get a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Breha cut him off.

“We just ran into each other and he found out that his pilot is my cousin and he has been slightly stalking me through my cousin ever since.”

The interviewer looked slightly sure of what to say in response. “So, Ms. Antilles, how would you describe your fashion style.”

Breha wanted to roll her eyes. She was hoping to get questions on issues that actually mattered, like the state of Alderaani-Chandrelli trade relations. “I wear very traditional Alderaani clothes. I like dresses and skirts - I think it’s okay to be feminine if you want to be. I love Nabooian fashions, but my neck may be too weak for the hairstyles. I think it’s important to maintain cultural connections to our strongest inter-galactic allies.” She then turned her attention to Bail, who was looking at cuts of meat. “That one looks good.”

“Indeed,” he said. He looked up at the wookiee vendor. “We will take these two cuts.”

Once they were back in his speeder, she burst out laughing. “No wonder people just think you only date women with the IQ’s of stuct flies. This is Alderaan! You’d think they’d ask your dates more about their qualifications to rule.”

“Well, thanks to reforms by my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, Alderaan is effectively a democracy. Yes the queen oversees everything at the highest level, but having a queen is more about preserving culture. Fashion is an important part of high-Alderaan culture. And although she has very little direct power, my mother does keep everyone else in line.”

“I know,” she said, “I did get a degree in all this stuff.”

“I’m sorry. I’m used to having to explain the role of queen to my dates. Anyways, have you ever been to Aldera Palace before?”

“Yes,” she replied. “On a school trip when I was 8.”

“Well,” he said, pulling up to an ornate irondrette gate with scrolls and delicate etching. “Now you’ll get the real tour.”

They parked in a garage. She got out before Bail could open the door for her.

“It’s fairly quiet here today. Being the weekend; almost all the staff is off.”

He led her up a path that was framed by clean cut grass and shrubbery. They entered through a side door and into an open kitchen. The walls were faded orange plaster and the floors were white-washed stone. Yet all the appliances looked state of the art.

“It’s so beautiful here.”

“It’s the main kitchen. The staff use it for the big dinners. My mom and I both have smaller kitchens in our suites. But I like it in here,” he said, putting the canvas bags on the island counter. “Take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a wooden stool.

“You like cooking,” she noted, sitting on the stool.

“I do,” he said. “It’s an art form that uses all the senses.”

“All them?”

“Yes, even hearing. From the sight of a vibrant orange korup root,” he said, holding up the root. “To the sound of a cracking cacou egg.” He picked up an egg and a bowl and cracked the two together. “It’s an entire body experience.”

“Plus you get to eat the results,” Breha pointed out.

He chuckled. “I take it you are not a cook?”

“Let’s just say my cooking is more like a weapon than an art form.”

“That bad?”

“I could be an assassin in disguise right now. If I made you dinner, I may be arrested for treason. Dessert on the other hand, now that I can do.”

“Well, then, whatever is in the cold box is yours to use.”

“Really? You trust me?” she asked, getting up.

“Well, I think I used all the poison last week, so I should be fine.”

“Should we really be talking about assassinations and poisoning in the royal kitchen?” she asked, perusing through the cold box. She found everything she needed for a fast-set chocolate seese pie.

“No, but it’s the weekend. No one plans a murder for the weekend.”

They both laughed and the laughter lasted long into the evening.

* * *

“That was delicious,” Bail said after he shoved the last of his pie in his mouth.

“Dinner was amazing,” she said.

“I had a wonderful time,” he said, getting up and taking her plate.

“I did as well,” Breha said with a soft smile. She then looked at her chrono. It was late. “Is that what time it is? I gotta get home. I have to work tomorrow.”

He nodded from the sink. “We can go now. But I’m wondering, can I see you again?”

“Can I think about it?” she asked. “I want to see you again, but…”

“You aren’t sure if you can give me what I need. I know, I know. But I would really love to see you a couple more times before I have to resign myself to marry someone who doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Alright. I will comm you. That is, if you don’t get lost after you drop me off,” she teased him.

 

and I enjoyed that! Breha is so outspoken and snarky but warm at the same time. Bail and Breha are a great team in the kitchen and personality-wise they mesh. He seems to enjoy her forthrightness as much as the reader does.

Glad she has a speeder that works now.

I am liking Raymus more and more. He is such a tease but he wants Breha to be happy and he's totally rooting for Bail.

 

Aw, that was a cute date! Nice to see Breha show off her political brain power.

 

Chapter 2

“Please. It would be my honour. Besides, I told my mother about your beauty. She looked you up and was very impressed with your resume.”

Breha tightened her posture. “I am not interested in becoming Queen of Alderaan.” She had no desire to marry someone she hardly knew and rule over a planet.

Love how she's straight to the point at this age. Matches the attitude her friends display and, well, would make sense if somebody randomly approaches her like that!

“I look forward to it. The reservations will be under the name Prestor.” He bowed and left her office. - His middle name instead of cartoony stuff? Brave!


Loving Breha's simple style for the date and that's a lot coming from me, as I don't own a single dress. And then...after a long wait, mouthwatering delights.

Bail sighed. “Whoever I marry is going to rule over a planet. It’s my sad reality. The people have to like her. Holo sludgers are going to harass whoever I even see, so I made a deal with Gossipa!. They get exclusives and get to publish the profiles for 12 hours. In return they keep the less professional sludgers off of my dates’ backs.”

EEEEEK. This is scary and brilliant in so many ways. The idea of a perfect society like Alderaan's having an ugly side corresponding to Human nature in general. Reminds me of how Daily Mail and similar trashy, right winger papers are full of random photos of the British Royals doing, well, random things. I understand that Breha will have to make some compromises in order to get to where we meet her at the end of Revenge of the Sith.

And sorry to read about Bail's mother...obviously. A cynic in me wonders if he was making things up to see how faithful Breha could be, but the remaining bits of a romantic in me are hoping for the exact opposite. XD

Chapter 3

Love it how Raymus calls Breha "Brebre" and how she says she is "done with life" because the speeder is no longer usable. Her pride and her independence seem to be two things she is mixing up. Also, Raymus knows WAY TOO MUCH about the date. In this case, it's totally OK for them to blackmail each other.

“I can’t believe I wasted make-up on today,” she told the ceiling. - For some reason, I LOL'd here. The moment with Nabooian (thanks for acknowledging Nubia as a separate place, btw) hairstyles was hilarious, too.

The best rom-com exchange EVARR:

“Yes, I do. Before we go on this date, I want to know what’s your problem with me - besides the fact that you are the only woman on the planet that doesn’t want to be queen."

“Well,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “If you really want to know, I think you are 39-years-old, you’ve KNOWN that you are the only heir to the Alderaani thrown and needed to find a wife to be queen for years. Yet you wasted those years and now you have the choice between dull bibbs your age, or girls half your age.”

Bail nodded. “I deserve that. But perhaps I just wasted just enough years to find the right woman.”

Breha rolled her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”


The "poison" moment was funny as well and I loved to see them cook together.

...

For some reason, what I am expecting next is a previous failed relationship in Brebre's life, as well as one or more of her roommates trying to woo Bail after they saw the arranged date on the HoloNet. I may be wrong, but it's tempting to make such guesses.

Fun, fun stuff.

 

Nyota:

I love writing Raymus in this. I was raised with several of my cousins and he is based off of one of them (who is still blackmailing me to this day).

Jadelotus:

Thanks


EP:

Thanks. The paparazzi/tabloids was something I really wanted to include in this to add drama and also a bit of realism to the situation. One of my first memories is actually of the night Princess Dianna died, so I wanted to include that ugly bit of 'normal people being obsessed with royal life' to add depth to this society. The paparazzi/tabloids will pop up again.

You are actually kinda close. However, I gotta lull everyone into a false sense of security before I heap on the drama. Bwhahahahahahaha.

But seriously, thanks for the in-depth review!

 

Chapter 4

Breha was in bed, sleeping peacefully, when her five roommates rushed into her bedroom.

“You were actually on a date with Prince Bail!” Reesha screamed, the first to jump on her bed.

“I can’t believe you!” Presha echoed.

“Wha?” Breha grunted, sitting up.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Breha’s fifth roommate, Margris, a Togruta with a thick Togruti accent, said. She was an immigrant from Shilli, who worked in the ambassador’s office. “You’re all over the news.” She shoved a data-pat at Breha.

“The people of Alderaan either love you or hate you,” Oetiann commented, leaning against the door, shaking her head.

“I don’t have time to deal with this,” she said, glancing at her chrono. “I’ve got to go to work.”

* * *

Breha felt immediately self-conscious as she walked to her office in the Ministry of Education. Everyone was starring at her, but not speaking to her. She sought refuge in her office where she didn’t even bother turning on her computer. She had seen how holo-shows and news reports had torn apart other women that Bail had dated. She didn’t want to taint the wonderful memory of what yesterday had been.

Breha paused. She really had a good time with the prince. Not opening up her work just yet, she leaned back in her office chair and thought. Perhaps Bail - her heartbeat actually quickened at the thought if him - deserved a chance. Perhaps, in another reality, if he wasn’t the prince, she could see herself dating him. He wasn’t like guys her age. Sure he was much older, but he was also mature, caring, and intelligent. And oh so handsome. All guys her age that were those things were either already taken or weren’t interested in human females.

Without thinking, she reached for her comm and entered Bail’s code. She got his away message.

“Hey. It’s me. If you have this code, you know who I am. Leave a message at whatever sound indicates you to do so.”

He must have been in a meeting or something. Breha found herself smiling as she spoke. “Hey Bail, it’s Breha. I just wanted to tell you, before I look at the news and the planet’s opinion of me, that I really enjoyed myself last night and I think I want to see you again. That is, if the media doesn’t rip me apart. If they do, I’m disappearing to Corellia and assuming a new name. Hopefully I’ll talk to you soon.”

She then switched off her comm and tried to focus on her work.

* * *

Breha’s work was finally interrupted around lunch time when there was a knock at her office door. “Come in,” she said, powering off the data-card she was reviewing.

Her door swished open and her cousin Raymus walked in. “So,” he said. “The most popular woman on Alderaan can’t even answer her comm for her family.”

“Huh?” she asked, looking at him, confused. “I turned off my comm. And most popular woman?”

“Haven’t you even looked at a holo-news-headline?”

She shook her head. “I was too afraid.”

Raymus stepped around so that he was sanding behind her and powered up her computer. He pulled up a popular holo news data site. The headline read: Antilles is Alderaan’s Most Promising Hope.

“There are a few of the scuzzier right-wing agencies saying that you are too young, but for all the ones that matter, they really like you. Alderaan loves you, Brebre. They want you to be the next queen.”

Breha felt the blood drain from her face. She had never been anything of note her entire life.

Raymus continued. “Grandmama, your mother, my mother, have all been trying to contact you all day…” he paused. “Bre?”

“I like him,” she said simply, out of no-where. “And I could do so much good for Alderaan. But, is dating him - potentially marrying him, what I want?”

She had asked herself, but Raymus replied, putting his hand on her shoulder. “No one said that even if you see him again that you have to marry him. But perhaps doing what you want and doing what you must do are two separate things. You are destined for so much more than mediocrity, Breha. If you think you live with yourself, married to Bail on the throne of Alderaan, you should give it some thought. But ultimately, you must do what you think is right.”

She nodded, slowly. “So what did grandmama, and the other women want?”

Raymus shrugged, leaning against her desk. “I’m not sure. They said to either comm them or go to the estate.”

Breha rolled her eyes. “Tell them I’m ignoring the planet, but I’ll come to the estate after work.”

He nodded and headed towards the door. “Will do my lady,” he said with a laugh and a bow.

Breha then picked up the closest thing to her - a flimsi-pad - and chucked it at him.

* * *

After a thankfully quiet day, Breha headed down to her speeder. There, her quiet day ended. There were dozens of reporters in the speeder parkade. She tried drawing the hood of the cowl scarf she was wearing, but she was spotted.

She was surrounded and they all started asking her question.

“Ms. Antilles, will you be seeing the prince again?”

“Lady Antilles, what do you say about accusations that you are too young to rule the planet.”

Breha managed to make it to her speeder. She took a deep breath. “First off, I am not a lady. That is my grandmother’s title she still holds. Secondly, I am unsure if I will see the prince again. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go.”

* * *

Breha groaned as she pulled up to her childhood estate. It was a large home outside of Aldera, surrounded by plenty of trees and grassy, rolling hills. Parking her speeder, she made her way to the grand double front doors and let herself in. She was quietly slipping off her shoes when she heard a voice behind her.

“Your mother is still at work. I expect her home shortly. However, your Aunt Joyna, your grandmother and grandfather are all in the back sitting room. They are waiting for you.”

Breha turned around to see Merej, the family butler. A tall, thin man, she, in all her 22 years of life, had never seen him smile, or frown, or show any emotion at all. As a kid, she swore he was a droid. She still wasn’t quite convinced he was human.

“Thank you, Merej,” she said as she headed into the direction of the sitting room. The Antilles estate was modest in its decor - mostly dark woods with varying shades of brown on the walls.

Breha forced on a smile as she entered the sitting room. Her grandmother and aunt were on the sofa, doing their needlework crafts, and her grandfather was in his nerfhide chair, reading something on his data-pad.

He was the only one to smile as she walked in. Riginus Antilles was a tall, slender man, with a full head of white hair. He, even years after retiring as a lawyer and Aldera’s mayor, still wore fine dress suits - though his coats were replaced with sweaters. “My Breha,” he said, getting up to hug her. “How are you my dear?”

Breha took a seat in a plushy lounger beside him. “Busy, very busy.”

“I’d say,” Joyna huffed. Raymus’ mother was a plump woman with greying hair. Her husband was a naval captain, thus why Breha wasn’t surprised to not see her Uncle Negard around. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you had been selected to go on a date with Prince Organa?”

“Hush, Joy,” Breha’s grandmother said in a cold, harsh tone. “We promised Healenia that we would wait for her so that Breha would only have to explain herself once.” Peranda Antilles was a sharp woman with facial features to match her personality. Her body was thin, but she still had a strong nature to her. Her grey hair was tied back tightly in a traditional Alderaanian braid.

Then, as if on cue, Breha’s mother entered the room. Healenia Antilles was a small woman, her thick blonde hair was also drawn back tightly. In her arms was bundles of rolled flimy - evidence from her all-consuming job as a civil engineer. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” Her hazel eyes pierced her daughter.

“Well hello to you to, Mom,” Breha replied with the roll of her dark brown eyes.

Riginus stepped in before further harsh words could be exchanged. “Breha, dear, we would all like to know about the circumstances leading to your date with Prince Organa.”

“Well,” Breha started. “We sort of ran into each other at the Ministry. I didn’t think much of the chance, and very short, meeting, but apparently I did and he asked Raymus about me. A couple days later the prince showed up at my office, wanting to take me out to dinner. He classified it as a work dinner so we had our privacy. I didn’t think I was going to see him again. Then, a couple days ago, Raymus mentioned how much fun the prince had with me and convinced me to let Prince Organa take me on a proper date, so I did,” she said with a shrug. She chose her version of events very carefully. She wasn’t lying, but she thought it best to leave the broken wrist out of it.

“So, will you be seeing him again?” her aunt was the first to ask.

Breha let out a deep breath. “I’m not sure. I had a wonderful time with him. While I’m not opposed to entering into an arranged marriage of sorts - I would much rather do that than see our culture fall - I’m not sure if being queen is what I want, or if I can carry such a role. Yet it’s already clear that I am the best option on the table; the fact that I’m an option on the table scares the nutters out of me. I want to see him again, but I also know that any sort of serious relationship with Bail — I mean, the prince, may mean marriage to a man who I may not truly love.” She sighed. “It’s all very complicated.”

Her family had respectfully listened while she had rambled, but she knew it was time to hear her grandmother’s opinion. “Well. You cannot simply think about yourself in this matter. There is much more at risk here than the notion of love and what you want.” Her grandmother took in a deep breath and was about to ramble on, when Breha’s grandfather spoke.

“However, you must do what you think is right,” her grandfather echoed Raymus’ thoughts.

“Thank you, Pa,” Breha said with a smile. “I have a lot of thinking to do, and this all, is of course, also dependent on what the prince thinks.”

* * *

That evening, after a headache inducing dinner with her family, Breha was back in her own house, staring at the white ceiling of her bedroom. She lied in the dark, thinking about nothing, and about everything.

Just two nights into seeing some guy and she already had to ponder marrying him, or else breaking it off. If that wasn’t scary enough, if she chose option A, she also had to become queen, rule a planet, and live every day in the public eye. It was all enough to make her want to pick up the comm on her nightstand and call it all off. To give herself all the power: the power to say no.

But yet, she did not do it. Something told her not to. To sit and do nothing.

Then, by if by some cruel fate, her comm rang. She answered it. “Breha.”

“Breha, it’s Bail.”

Breha instantly sat up. “Bail. What do you need?”

“Well, first I wanted to make sure you didn’t disappear to Corellia,” he said with a laugh. “And I wanted to talk to you. I really want to see you again.”

“Well, you are in luck, I haven’t left for Corellia yet. Though I do have a lot to think about.”

“I’m glad you are thinking. It means I at least still have a chance. My mother adores you, and the planet seems to as well.”

“What do you think of me?” she asked.

“I think my future is all in your hands. I want you to make an informed decision based on what you think of me… and all my… attachments.”

“Attachments? Is that what we are calling a tradition 320 generations of Organas ruling, and Alderaan itself?”

“Yeah, I figured that was nicer than calling it ‘baggage’.”

She laughed and she and Bail, for no particular reason, talked into the night.

Finally, Breha yawned. “I must go to bed, but thank you, for talking to me. It has helped put my mind at ease. I would like to see you again.”

“The new Keko Sedane holo comes out this weekend. Do you want to try to sneak me into a holo-theatre to see it?”

“Alright,” she replied. “I’ll devise a plan and pick you up - that way you can’t be late.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. I’ll make sure to talk to you again before then. Goodnight, Breha.

“Goodnight, Bail.”

 

The guys in Breha's family are more - evenhanded and levelheaded than the women Yup, lots of attachments better word than baggage.

I was thinking about Breha earlier. How she has her head on straight and even can put her daunting options in clarity to herself and others - She does not wibble-wobble around the point either.

 

Ha! I mention the right-wing journos and there they are, even though it's just in a single sentence. Hilarious.

Everybody looking at Breha reminded me of Noting Hill a bit, and since this story is picking the best of the fun romcom tropes, it totally fit in. Of course, it's taken up to eleven here. It's like nobody cares about what Breha herself thinks - the entire planet (which she ignores, apparently - loved that little sarcastic remark!) is planning her relationship. Sure, if they have approved her, that's got to mean she MUST marry Bail ASAP. Geez.

The family seems to be a bunch of interesting people. Love the crescendo from those that barely make sense to the wise old woman who appears to be more rational than everybody else.

Looking forward to more!

 

Oh Breha, such a hard decision! I can't imagine the pressure. She really has to consider not only "do I marry this guy?" but "will the press like me?" and "do I have what it takes to be a queen?" and she is only on her second date! But Bail is a sweetheart and he understands how hard it is for her to try to adapt to his world.

I liked the line about how she held the ultimate power - the power to say no.

 

AN: Thanks for reading everyone! Quick note/warning, I used a different font in this chapter to indicate text messages, which doesn’t show up on the TapTalk app, so I recommend reading this chapter in a browser.

Chapter 5

Breha smiled inwardly as a text ran across the top of her data pad: MESSAGE FROM BAIL ORGANA. She was currently bored out of her mind in a staff meeting. There was a funding discrepancy in one of the school districts in one of the outward provinces. She had suggested a temporary redistribution of funds until the matter could be figured out. But, of course, only being a junior adviser, her idealistic solution was outright ignored. Yet she was still forced to remain in the florescently lit, stuffy meeting room.

Breha slyly opened the message, pretending to still be taking notes - which was easier now that her bacta-cast was off and her wrist was healed. Over the past few days, she and Bail had been exchanging messages and talking on comms. It was quite nice just to get to know the guy. It was almost as if they were a normal dating couple. Of course, according to her, they weren’t ‘official’ yet. Official in this situation had so much other things that went with the status.

The message read: Hey Breha. How are you?

Bored. She replied. I’m in a meeting so I probably shouldn’t be talking to you.

There were three dots, indicating he was typing something. Well, I’m in a High Council of Alderaan meeting, so I really shouldn’t be talking to you either.

Breha pretended to pay attention to her own meeting for a few moments before replying. No, as first chairman, you really shouldn’t. I’m just a lowly junior advisor in the Ministry of Education. You should get back to work.

Bail’s reply was nearly immediate. Stars, you sure are bossy for a junior advisor… I like it!

She had to keep from rolling her eyes. I’m signing out now so that you aren’t so distracted by messaging girls you think are pretty. I’ll talk to you after work.

With that she signed out and tried to not fall asleep.

* * *

That night, Breha sat on her bed, talking to Bail. This was almost like a routine now.

“So, I got tickets to the first showing of the Keko holo. Apparently the writer finally gave it a title: Planet of Death.”

“Great,” he replied. “I can’t wait to finally see one of her holos on the big viewscreen. We are going in your speeder, right?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up tomorrow 1900, sharp. You think you can blend in to the general public for a few hours?”

“Yes,” he said in a confident tone. “I have done stuff like this before. But there is one thing; do you think you can come a bit early? My mother wishes to meet you.”

“Umm, alright. But I had planned on dressing rather discreetly as well. The paparazzi has been rather good at finding me it seems.”

“They aren’t bothering you, are they?”

She sighed. “They haven’t found were I live, they don’t follow me that far, but they have been rather annoying when I get to and leave work. I tried to go to the grocery store last night and someone must have recognized me and tipped them off. I don’t mind dressing more discreetly, but I don’t want to meet the queen looking like some sort of spy.”

“Fair enough. Why don’t you come for dinner? Wear what you deem appropriate. Afterwards we can change and go to the holo.”

“Alright. Oh ancient gods, I’m having dinner with the Queen of Alderaan tomorrow night.”

“You’ll be fine. I have faith in you, Breha.”

* * *

“Gods, not so tight,” Breha whined as Oetiann laced up her corset-back gown. It was a simple blue-silver gown, with off the shoulder sleeves that flowed down to the floor. There was no poof or shine. “I do have to drive in this thing, then take it off afterwards.” Breha liked wearing dresses; gowns on the other hand simply required too much work.

“Yeah, but you are also meeting the queen.” Clarkia was doing Breha’s hair. She had done it in a simple braid, but now she was pinning it to Breha’s head.

“Don’t remind me. I’m sweating enough as it is,” Breha confessed as Reesha finished her make-up.

“Alright,” Reesha said as she and the other women stepped back.

Breha turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She smiled. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, I feel like a princess.”

“Good,” Oetiann said, giving Breha her shoes - flat silver dancer shoes - and a small duffle bag containing her change of clothes for the holo. “No go, live out every little girl’s dream.”

* * *

Breha drove into the palace estate with no issues. She was directed to the garage by the head of security. When she got out, she had to smile. Bail was there, sitting on a bench with a single deep purple riesum flower. He got up, straightened out the dark green overcoat he wore, and handed it to her. “You look lovely. May I hug you?”

“Sure.” They embraced, briefly. It was a casual hug, like two friends who had not seen each other in awhile, yet Breha appreciated getting that short moment of intimacy. She wasn’t a very intimate person - her family was not ‘huggers’.

“My mother is waiting for us in the dining hall.” Bail led Breha through elegant decorated corridors with large painted images framed with rich wood and even larger windows framed with rich fabric. Servants that they came across bowed as they passed.

Finally, they reached a pair of ornately decorated white doors. “This is the dining hall. Please don’t be nervous. My mother is not a scary woman.”

“I know,” Breha replied, not realizing she was breathing heavily. “I’m just trying not to sweat like a gamorrean.”

“Just think, after this we are going to Planet of Death. Think of all the blood, guts, gore and Keko butt-kicking action that await us.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally the woman your mother wants as her successor to preserve and evolve Alderaanian culture and to oversee the government,” she murmured sarcastically.

Bail opened the doors to a long room, decorated in shades of off-white. It contained a large rectangle table with many matching chairs - though there was only three places set on this particular evening. Across the room, at the head of the table, sat Queen Mazicia. She was a small woman, yet carried a weight of authority in her wise eyes. She wore a dark purple gown.

Breha bowed when Queen Mazicia looked up from her data pad.

“Miss Antilles, please rise. This is going to be a very informal dinner. I know you and Bail have other plans.”

“Indeed we do, Mom,” Bail said, guiding Breha to her seat, pulling it out for her, then pushing it back in. He then took his seat across from Breha.

“Well, I won’t keep you two for long,” she said as servants came out with three bowls of soup, three glasses of wine and three glasses of water. “Miss Antilles, you have just been so well-received by the public and have conducted yourself so finely with the holo reporters, I had to meet you for myself right away.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Breha replied, trying to be as polite as possible. She took a sip of her soup, trying not to make any slurping sounds.

“Please, if it is just Bail and I around, call me Mazicia.”

“Then, please, call me Breha.”

Conversation lulled as they drank their soup. Bail attempted to pick it back up as they waited for their main course.

“Hey, Mom, do you still need me to do that trip to the Natusra province for you next month?” It was beyond odd to hear Bail refer to the queen as “Mom”.

“Yes, I do,” she said with a slight sigh.

“I was wondering if I could invite Breha to come with me,” Bail said, before turning to Breha. “That is, if you want.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Mazicia said with a nod. “Breha, it would allow you to see the duties of queen. I know you probably have a lot going through your mind at this moment. I don’t mean to try to rush you into a decision, I just think it would be good to get to know the duties a queen would have, while you also get to know Bail.”

Breha nodded. “I don’t mean to seem, nosy. I ask because I wish to know for both my sake and the planet’s sake, but is there any reason why I should be deciding if I want to become Bail’s wife, and eventually queen, sooner, rather than later.”

“No,” Mazicia said, confidently. “But the fact that you are taking your time to decide gives me confidence in you. This is not a matter to be taken lightly and without sufficient information. You deserve to know the truth. I have Krayat’s disease.”

Breha couldn’t help but gasp. It was a slow disease, affecting one’s ability to physically function. A person affected slowly became more tired, more in pain, and more unable to move, from the extremities inward. There were treatments available, but they all only prolonged a person’s suffering before the disease crept into the body’s core, stopping the lungs and eventually the heart. The worst part was a person’s mind remained lucid - completely aware - during the process.

“The disease mainly affects my hands and feet right now. Doctors say I have at least five years left. I am telling you because I don’t want you to feel pressured to make a decision either way. Bail does have a plan B.”

“Which is?” Breha asked, genuinely wanting to know.

“Lady Renolu Kartas,” Bail replied. “From a personal opinion, she’s the sweetest person, we have been friends for a long time. She’s simple, but she knows this and she knows she is my back up plan. She is hoping, for both our sakes, that I find a better wife. She doesn’t want to be queen, because she knows she doesn’t have the intelligence for it. Nor am I her type of lover, if you understand my meaning.”

“She’s a lesbian,” Mazicia said, bluntly. “Her girlfriend is quite nice; a Corellian I believe.”

Bail continued. “Renolu loves Alderaan, so she is willing to marry me and be my mouthpiece if it comes to that.”

Breha nodded, taking it all in.

“But you have enough to think about,” Mazicia said. “I think it is now time for you to go and have some fun.”

* * *

Breha found herself changing clothes in the most opulent refresher she had ever been in. The floors, walls, and even the ceiling was decorated in opulent marble. Light somehow came from behind the mirror.

She quickly changed into a pair of black leggings and a dark red sweater. She took her hair down and slipped on a pair of flat shoes. Looking in the mirror, she smiled. She kinda looked like the female hero, named Mikoa, of the holo-movie they were going to. She exited the ‘fresher and was at a lost. Bail had told her to meet her in his suite, but she had forgotten what direction Bail had said his suite was.

“Kriff,” she murmured. She pulled out her commlink. “So, Bail. I’m lost.”

Laughing was her only reply.

“Seriously, come get me!”

“Alright, alright. I’m almost ready anyways.”

Breha leaned against a bare space of wall while she waited. Soon, she saw Bail coming down the hallway. She laughed. He looked exactly like Mikoa’s father and supervisor, Odivas. He was wearing all back, with a cowl and darken goggles.

“You are such a nerd,” she teased.

“Well, I thought it would be a good disguise. Now people are just going to think I’m your father.”

“People were just going to think that anyways,” she teased him.

“Ouch. Right in the pride.”

 

I love this more with each update!!! I like Mazicia's warmth and candor, Breha's friends being encouraging but not pushy, and her dress for dinner, lovely! She and Bail are getting to know and like each other as friends. Loving the process and the teasing.

 

Very cute texting between Bail and Breha. But what pressure for Breha! Especially knowing that the "backup plan" means that Bail and Renolu won't find happiness with each other and that it will be a duty marriage only.