AN: I have no idea whether Ord Mantell is meant to have beaches, but on an entire planet I figure there's got to be one somewhere. It's also stated as being a volcanically active planet, so I image this particular spot to be an uninhabited island with a shoreline similar to Hawaii's craggy beaches like Laupahoehoe Point.
This is my take on what befalls Han and Leia during the fateful Ord Mantell mission that leads to Han leaving at the beginning of Empire Strikes Back. All of this really comes out of (over)dissecting the exchange: "I thought you had decided to stay?"/"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."
For me, 'decided to stay' has to be more than just sticking around with the Rebellion because Han has already been doing that. There's no decision there; it's already the continual state. So in my headcanon that means Han was ready to officially join up with the Alliance and had told Leia as much, but then he backs out of it because of what goes down on Ord Mantell.
That leaves the question: what exactly goes down on Ord Mantell? Well, here's a guy who stayed with the Rebellion for three years rather than going to pay his debt, despite fully knowing he was being pursued by Jabba the Hutt. At the very beginning of A New Hope, based on the events at Mos Eisley, it seems Han has already been skirting Jabba for a considerable time. All of that makes it hard for me to believe that a simple "death mark" is enough of a catalyst for a guy who already has a bounty on him before the series even starts. In my opinion, something extraordinarily bad most go down to make Han feel like he has to leave right now, after all this time, to get it taken care of – and for a man leading the kind of life that Han Solo has led, I think it has to be more than just a threat to his life. And he does say 'we ran into'. That's where this story comes in.
I've purposefully started this mid-scene because what's happening in the prelude to this isn't the story I have to tell. However, it is an important piece of the puzzle in understanding the fallout that will come (i.e. the position of anger we find Leia in at the beginning of Empire, as well as the antagonism and tension present between Han and Leia in those early scenes – since I'm not of the mindset that all the two of them ever did was fight). All you really need to know going in is that my headcanon for Ord Mantell leading up to this is quite literally corellian-smuggler's "Heat" (an absolutely brilliant fic which everyone should read; seriously, if you haven't read it yet, leave here and go read it!), only in my headcanon Han and Leia get interrupted before they can consummate. And we join the scene there…..
WEAKNESS
"Leia….min larel," Han whispered as he moved his hand to the small of her back and pressed her body to his, skin-on-skin beneath the water.
Though she wasn't familiar with the Corellian phrase, the intent and feeling came through clearly in his tone, and she sighed blissfully, winding her arms around his neck.
"Min tejha larel," he murmured in response, his lips now less than centims from hers — she was his entire universe, every moment of the past three years leading up to this kiss.
And suddenly "Solo!" burst through the sultry night air, not in Leia's sweet voice but snarled in malevolent command.
Han prided himself on his quick-draw reflexes, even straight out of a dead sleep. But there was a world of difference between sleep and standing on the brink of finally making love to Leia, so it took him half a second to clear his mind. When he did, he looked back to the beach to see Boba Fett — Jabba's favorite lackey and one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy — standing at the edge of the shore, his blaster trained on them.
With a startled yelp, Leia drew away from Han, folding her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover herself, but in an instant Han had her behind him, covering more than just her nudity as he made himself a human shield between her and the bounty hunter. It was an undeniably dire position they were in, pinned down in the water with nowhere to go and without any weapons, but he was determined to do whatever it took to see Leia safely out of this.
Survival instincts told Han to come up with a plan and fast, but as if reading his mind, Fett ordered, "If you value her life, you'll put your hands where I can see them and come slowly out of the water."
Fett was smart, Han would give him that, to direct the threat at Leia rather than him; it made the stakes completely different and so much higher. The fact that Leia had essentially now been reduced to a pawn in Jabba's game was equal parts revolting and immeasurably terrifying to Han, but he nevertheless assumed a hard, threatening demeanor that he wouldn't allow to waver for even a moment. "Let her go, Fett," he demanded. "Your business is with me, not her."
"And why would I let her go? As long as I have the princess, I have you right where I want you: compliant and at my mercy."
The princess. Shit. That meant Fett recognized Leia — of course, he recognized her; when could they ever catch a break? — and now their already treacherous situation just became exponentially more perilous. "If you hurt her, I will kill you," Han said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.
"Am I supposed to be threatened by that?" Fett sneered. "The only thing you're a threat to, Solo, is the two of you. When I found you out here like this, I could hardly believe it. Naturally, I'd heard the rumors, but thought them just that. The man I'd been familiar with in Jabba's employ was certainly not one to get hung-up on a woman. Nor was he foolish enough to ever think he could rise to the level of the Last Princess of Alderaan. Still, everywhere I went, every being I asked told me the same thing: if you want Han Solo, acquire the princess first; he'll follow her anywhere, do anything to get her back."
Fett snickered scornfully, delighting in having the upper hand on Jabba's once golden boy. "And were they ever right about you! She is your weakness, to be sure. Just look at the 'Great Han Solo', reduced to this. I thought I would at least have to sneak up on your while you slept, capture the princess and use her to lure you out. But you made it so easy!" he taunted, thoroughly relishing Han's downfall. "Stranded, fully aware the Empire was after you if not the Hutt, knowing your situation was fraught with danger, and yet you let all your guard down to fuck a pretty woman in the ocean. The 'Great Han Solo'," Fett scoffed. "You aren't worth half the bounty being offered. But I'll take it, nonetheless."
Han glanced over his shoulder at Leia, and it was like five tons of duracrete sitting heavy on his gut, the utter shame of how completely he had failed her. Because Fett was right; this was his fault. A result of his amateurish behavior. His foolish, reckless culpability. It was Han's worst nightmare — Leia in mortal danger — and HE was to blame; his actions led to the current look of panic in her eyes that she was trying so hard to conceal. The weight of that knowledge, the intensity of his guilt, was enough to make him physically ill.
"Now out of the water," Fett ordered. "And I mean it, Solo, don't try anything stupid."
Locking eyes with Leia — silently conveying that she stay put, stay silent, stay safe, no matter what should happen to him — Han slowly emerged from the waves. Naked and still in a semi-aroused state, he put every effort into displaying smug confidence he was far from feeling; all in a day's work, and he had zero doubt they'd best Fett and get out of this just fine.
Yet in a heartbeat, every ounce of that assumed smugness melted away into stark fear when Han saw Fett's menacing green helmet turn to focus not at him but on Leia.
"Although I can't say as I blame you for wanting to fuck this particular woman," the bounty hunter commented licentiously.
Fett considered himself to be something of a superhuman force, but Han knew he was just a man, a man with his own lusts to slack. Between the erotic scene he'd happened upon, Fett's desire to belittle Han, and Fett's awareness of using Leia to get at him, horrendous visions filled Han's mind of Fett trying to take advantage of Leia, or even outright rape her while making Han watch. That thought at once turned fear into pure, unadulterated hatred — a primal rage flowing hot and potent through his blood; he would see this man dead if it was the last thing he ever did.
"Let her have her clothes, Fett," Han spat viciously, only his concern for Leia's safety stopping him from rushing the bounty hunter to the ground and beating him to a pulp, blaster or no blaster.
"I like things fine just as they are," Fett taunted. "With all of your impudent, impetuous irresponsibility on full display. If any harm should come to the princess, we both know it will be because you were thinking with your wrong head this time, Solo."
While the man were preoccupied, locked in a battle of masculine one-upmanship, Leia was cautiously making her way towards the shore. If nothing else, perhaps she could use the element of surprise to her advantage.
But any such hopes were dashed with Fett's scornful, "Stop right where you are, Princess. Now is not the time to start adopting your smuggler's reckless ways. Any such foolish ideas are beneath both your intelligence and your royal standing — if there's anything left of that to tarnish after consorting with such lowlife scum," he added acerbically, overtly twisting the knife into Han's already eviscerated sense of pride.
Leia, however, wasn't concerned with her maidenly honor at the moment. Her thoughts were solely on getting herself and Han out of this alive. Unfortunately, Fett had no idea how far off-base he was. She wasn't entertaining any 'foolish ideas' because Leia knew there were no ideas to have. They didn't have any weapons anywhere out on the beach; in their thoughtless desire for each other, they hadn't so much as brought their vibroblade with them.
Now that she was near enough to the shore to necessitate crouching in the water as the only crude concealment for her nakedness, ignoring Fett's command, Han reached down to the sand for the nearest garment that would work to cover her – his shirt – and tossed it to Leia.
She pulled it over her head, rising as she did so, but it still became soaked-through from her upper thighs to where it stopped mid-knee, clinging wet to her legs as she carefully approached them on the shore.
"I said, stay where you are!" Fett shouted to her, sensing some impending gambit in the two of them ganging up on him, forcing him to split his sights between them.
"I have to come out of the water, don't I, if you mean to take me hostage?" Leia retorted smartly.
"You don't gotta involve her at all, Fett," Han contradicted, with no clear idea where he was going with this, just an overwhelming need to get the bounty hunter's focus safely off Leia and back on him. "You said yourself, I already made your job easy. No need to use her when you got me right here. That's what Jabba wants, what he's payin' for; he's got no business with her."
Han could tell he had him, that at the very least he was listening with interest. "I'll make a bargain with you, Fett, an offer even you can't refuse. I'll go with you without a fight; I'm clearly unarmed and vulnerable." He gestured ruefully down to his nakedness. "I'll let you take in the easiest bounty you'll ever have. You can present me to Jabba on a silver kriffin' platter for all I care. If you just let Leia go. If you don't, so help me god, I will fight you till the both of us are dead — and then see you in hell to fight you some more."
"That's not a very wise bargain, Solo," Fett laughed derisively. "Do you really think much of a better fate awaits the princess if I leave her here to die?"
"Better here than in Jabba's hands. We know what he'd do to her."
The bounty hunter weighed that over and finally allowed, "Very well. Then I accept your terms."
That seemed to be the last nail in his coffin, but Han Solo of the Millennium Falcon hadn't lasted as long as this in the universe without employing more than his fair share of insane, intrepid, reckless, daring, impulsive, clever, risky, plucky, foolhardy, brave impossible plans. True, there was next to nothing at his disposal, but when his eyes clandestinely spied one of the loose bacaonuts they'd harvested not but a few feet away on the beach, Han formulated just such a plan, with the strategy of knocking the blaster out of Fett's hand and then overpowering him while either he or Leia recovered the blaster and, thus, the upper hand.
Leia's eyes had been on Han the entire time and she anticipated what he was thinking. While she felt a familiar flash of her initial excited assessment of him on the day they met — He certainly has courage! — the danger was too great for her to wish him to actually go through with it. She had a bad, bad feeling about his plan.
When Han's gaze, for a split second, fell upon her, she tried to warn him off, but Han either didn't get the message or simply didn't listen — for, a second later, he was diving for the bacaonut.
To Leia, it seemed as if time itself had decelerated. It was as if it were all happening in slow motion, millisecond by millisecond. And she knew. She couldn't say how she knew, but she knew. She felt it as certain as she felt her own heartbeat, what would happen next: Fett had also recognized Han's plan, and he would be ready for him.
She glanced over and, sure enough, Fett was moving his blaster to aim squarely at the Corellian. Unable, unwilling, to see Han disintegrated before her very eyes, reduced to nothing more than a trophy braid hanging from Fett's armor, Leia had to stop him.
Someway, somehow, she had to get that blaster away.
Her whole being reduced to that. Everything within her focused down to that one pinpoint of need: the blaster out of Fett's hands and across the beach to Han. As Leia became absorbed with that fervent need, she began to feel a sort of quivering, crawling sensation in her brain that swept as a tingle along her torso and limbs as if spreading through her very bloodstream.
Later, she would rationalize that the bounty hunter had lost control of his weapon as he pivoted in the sand toward Han, but whatever the cause, all at once the blaster was flying from Fett's hands.
But not before discharging.
Leia could see it atom by atom, the charge of the bolt forming and releasing from the barrel of Fett's blaster currently in mid-air, and it was like being back on the Death Star watching the ray shot toward Alderaan. Only, this time, she wasn't helpless. This time, she wouldn't have to stand there and watch her world be destroyed — not as long as there was breath left in her body.
"No!" Leia screamed in desperation, and did what she wished she could have done with Alderaan. She hurled herself in front of Han, absorbing the bolt with her body before it could get to him. And she fell like an anchor into a lifeless heap on the sand.
"LEIA!" Han's devastated cry thundered even louder than the surf, and he dropped to his knees beside her unconscious body. Heedless of Fett, he thought only to tend to his princess, his love, his heart.
But he needn't have been concerned for the mercenary's actions, anyhow, as within the next second the sounds of bowcaster fire further overpowered the rush of waves, followed immediately by a menacing Wookiee roar.
Chewie had found them. Against Alliance protocol — against direct orders — he'd spent every moment since their crash tirelessly searching for them, finally trailing Fett to the tiny island and on to his human family.
Han, however, couldn't spare a thought for his copilot, or their imminent rescue, or even the man responsible for the current tragedy. His every focus was on Leia — her motionless body, looking so tiny against the backdrop of the ocean; the dark tendrils of her beautiful loose hair tumbled haphazardly around her; and her blood, as long as he lived, he would never forgot the sight of her blood, streaming from her head to mingle with the sand beneath her.
Everything in Han screamed to cradle her in his arms protectively, but his extensive field training had taught him better than that. For her sake, he had to keep his head about him, had to distance himself, had to treat her with the clear mind of one soldier tending to another and not the headspace of a distraught lover. First, he checked her pulse. She was still alive, still breathing — which meant he could breathe again, too.
But any momentary relief was short-lived when he knew all too well that 'alive' didn't necessarily mean one would stay alive. He gently rolled Leia over from where she had crumpled onto her side to lay flat on her back so he could better assess the damage, looking for blaster wounds and the exact source of her bleeding. Yet, he couldn't find any blaster burns, or her organs spilling out like he'd envisioned in terror — Fett's hits were known for being particularly lethal, not uncommonly disintegrating his victims without even a body left to show. Everything about Leia was intact, except that she was unconscious and bleeding from a rather nasty open gash a few inches above her temple.
In confusion, he reached for Fett's blaster — which somehow now lay at Han's feet, a puzzle to be contemplated later. Turning the weapon over, he discovered Fett had been bluffing; it was set to STUN. Jabba evidently wanted a live capture, no doubt so that the vile, overgrown slug could torture him personally.
With that knowledge now in hand, Han was able to easily ascertain from Leia's position what had happened: after being stunned, she'd fallen heavily and her head must have landed against the jagged rock that jutted out from this craggy stretch of beach, making a rather deep laceration in her scalp. It was bleeding dramatically, as most head wounds do, but it wasn't life-threatening — though he still couldn't exclude the possibility of a concussion or some other serious head trauma.
Even so, it led to one conclusion: Leia was not in mortal danger; she would live. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Han's heart began to slow to a more normal rhythm.
"Chewie!" he called out over the sandy expanse.
Chewbacca was across the beach, where the Wookiee had managed to chase off Fett — getting a few shots in, though all were deflected by the powerful Mandalorian armor — before the bounty hunter escaped with his jetpack back to his waiting ship.
Han looked up just in time to see Slave I jetting across the horizon; a smart move by Fett, knowing he'd be outpowered and outgunned by the Falcon.
"Chewie!" Han beckoned again, forgetting Fett for now. "Come get Leia. She's wounded and stunned." His beloved ship was nowhere in sight which, on an island this small, meant she had to be just on the other side of the tree line. "We gotta get her back to the Falcon quick and run a scan on her."
Chewie was at Han's side in a matter of seconds, and now that the danger had passed, he was able to fully take in the scene before him: Han crouched at Leia's side, completely naked, while she lay unresponsive just beyond the incoming surf, her hair — shockingly, for an Alderaanian woman — down in a tangled riot about her head and shoulders, the strands near her left temple matted with an oozing red, bloodied and clad only in Han's semi-soaked shirt, with sand caked to her damp and bare arms and legs.
Chewbacca was not a naïve being, but even a simpleton could have figured out the implications here, the certain conclusion of what Fett had walked in on — the dizzying sweetness of long-awaited surrender in juxtaposition with the harsh reality and improprieties of the scene now before him. But, wisely, Chewie said nothing about their current state, only tossed Han his pants before gently, carefully, taking the princess into his arms and leading them back to the Falcon.
AN: At the beginning of the scene, Han speaks in Olys Corellisi and says, "Leia…min larel…min tejha larel", which translates to, "Leia…my love…my undying love."