This skyfaring room was part of the Gatalentan senatorial complex, something they considered important enough to maintain along with their offices. Many planets had such unique “essentials,” such as the Mon Calamari saline tanks and the Toydarian wind tunnel for wing exercise. Maybe a meditative-gymnastics complex seemed odd to Leia, but each planet set its own priorities.
Amilyn said, “Why don’t we do some basic floor stretches? That would get you more used to the muscle combinations involved.”
Leia had the distinct sense she was being coddled. After her last tumble from the streamers, however, some coddling didn’t seem like a bad idea. “Let’s try that.”
Even on the floor exercises, she had to work to keep up. Although her dancing and exercise classes kept Leia lithe and flexible, Amilyn could twist and turn her limbs in combinations seemingly impossible for a species with a skeletal structure. But she was good at suggesting modifications Leia could use, and helping her find the right mental state. “Any imbalance we carry within us, we carry into the sky. You have to be firmly grounded before you can try anything in the air. Would some more incense help?”
Incense smoke already drifted so thickly through the air that they could’ve been in one of the fog-forests of Eriadu. “I think we’ve got that covered.”
“Then maybe you should talk through the imbalance.” Amilyn struck a pose on one foot that looked easy to accomplish. “If you don’t want to reveal too much in front of me, speak in metaphors. Many people find that enlightening.”
Leia hit the same pose and discovered it was easy—at first. Holding it required significant muscle control. “I can’t come up with metaphors and do this at the same time. But—I guess I can talk about a few things.” Bottling it all up inside definitely wasn’t helping. And as peculiar as Amilyn Holdo was, she genuinely tried to help people around her. That had to count for something.
“All confidences during skyfaring remain in the room to dissipate with the smoke,” Amilyn promised.
“Uh, great.” Leia steadied her balance as she lifted her arms higher. “Well, for one, I’ve always been close to my parents, but it seems like we don’t understand each other anymore.” The specific reasons why had to remain unspoken; only Kier could be trusted with that truth. “Every once in a while, we’ll connect, but most of the time—I feel like they’re so far away from me, even when we’re in the same room.”
“That’s the evolutionary principle at work.”
“Come again?”
Still on one foot, Amilyn lowered herself gracefully to the floor. “If the young of the species don’t have motivation to leave the care of their parents, they’ll never lead an independent existence, which means they’ll never reproduce. The species would soon die out. Ergo, the last stage of life before adulthood always involves conflict between parent and offspring.”
Maybe the incense smoke was getting to Leia, because that seemed to make a kind of sense, even if it certainly didn’t explain everything between her and her parents. “I’m also frustrated by how little we can accomplish in the Apprentice Legislature. The Senate has more power, but even they’re subject to the Emperor. My whole life, I’ve expected to go into politics, to try to make the galaxy a better place. Now I wonder if that’s even possible.”
She flinched from the memory of the explosion on Onoam, the terrible smell of smoldering rubble and death. Her mother and father hadn’t wanted that—but was that where plans like theirs inevitably led?
“The Force gains strength from our intentions as well as our actions,” Amilyn said brightly. “We must try to stand and succeed, but we must never fail to stand.”
“No.” The word came out harsher than she’d meant, and for the first time that day, Amilyn’s smile faltered. Leia managed to be calmer when she added, “Good intentions aren’t enough. They’re not meaningless, but—that’s where we have to start. Not where we end.”
“That’s—that’s a good point, actually.” A wrinkle appeared between Amilyn’s eyebrows as she considered this. “On Gatalenta we try to lead the life of the mind, and in our culture intentions can have great influence—we discuss them, judge by them—but in the galaxy at large, things are—well—less pleasant.”
Leia nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“This will be the focus of my next meditative trance.” Amilyn shifted into a spine-defying backbend. “You’ve already given vent to your frustrations. Now speak to the joy in your life. What makes you happy, here and now?”
Leia’s heart provided the answer instantly—so much so that she was startled. Something in her quailed from that knowledge, but something else, far more powerful, kept taking her back to the shooting arena, or the hidden passageways of the palace, or the snowy lodge where Kier had brought her that first mug of mocoa.
She didn’t say his name out loud. As she made her own attempt at the backbend, she asked, “Can it be morally right to feel happy when there’s so much injustice all around us?”
“Of course. Happiness is our moral imperative.”
“That sounds”—Leia actually got into the backbend, but felt like her abdominal muscles were pressing the breath from her—“like—like hedonism.”
“Not at all.” Lifting herself upright again with damnable ease, Amilyn said, “Great evil can only be fought by the strong. People need spiritual fuel as much as they need food, water, and air. Happiness, love, joy, hope—these are the emotions that give us the strength to do what we need to do.”
That wasn’t just the incense; that was genuine and true. Leia flopped back down on the bouncy floor, really relaxing in Amilyn’s company for the first time. “I guess all that meditation pays off for you guys.”
“Yes. Well, that, and it’s pretty obvious you like Kier. You might as well use that energy, you know?”
Leia opened her mouth to protest, but what was the point? “It’s like—like everything else is this raging storm, and he’s…the only safe place. The only one who lets me just be myself.”
“Beware words like ‘only,’” Amilyn said, wagging one long finger, but she was smiling. “Don’t let your head be turned by the most dangerous substance known to exist.”
“Which is?”
“A pair of pretty dark eyes.” Then Amilyn thought about that for a moment. “Or more than a pair, if you’re into Grans. Or Aqualish, or Talz. Or even—”
“That’s all right!” Leia said through laughter. “It’s just humanoid males for me.”
“Really? That feels so limiting.”
“Thank goodness it’s a big galaxy.”
And she’d already found someone extraordinary in it.
Later that afternoon, Leia walked through the senatorial complex in a good mood. Whether it was the incense, the conversation with Amilyn, or the promise of another pathfinding trip with Kier in the near future, her gloom had been banished for the first time in too long. Apparently this “being normal” thing really worked.