A version of this fic with the same title went up recently – I took it down because I wanted to do a major revamp of tone and style before posting. The same premise, though: I've long wanted to just write a piece that picks up after ROTJ and goes forward, with a specific focus on Han and Leia's relationship. The usual trigger warnings of my other pieces actually do NOT apply here, but I do anticipate being able to provide the same attention to issues of gender and sexuality that I always shoot for!

Chapter 1

It was a night that felt like it would never end.

Well, in retrospect that wasn't true – not for everyone. In fact, as she spun and laughed she could already tell that there would be a fair amount of Rebels – were they still Rebels now? Leia thought with a sudden thrill, could they even call themselves Rebel scum now that they'd successfully toppled the real scum they'd fought for so long – who would surely be drinking and dancing until the Endor dawn. She would be up all night too, if she weren't so looking forward to the pleasure of waking up in a galaxy sans emperor; she would be drinking heavily too, if she weren't determined to feel with perfect clarity every exquisite detail of this moment.

And – well. She could feel with good enough clarity with a very reasonable amount of drinks in her system, anyway.

She felt so good, so young. Maybe it was wearing a dress rather than a uniform, maybe it was having her hair long and free, like an embrace from her former self – maybe it was even the spinning itself, the way it made everything blurry and light. Or maybe it was how wonderful it felt to be held, touched and held and in front of others, even, something that normally stressed her out but now, now – something about the fact that Han had swung her around and looked at her so adoringly – that she felt adored, that other people saw she could be adored.

Which felt terribly girlish. And silly, and frivolous. She didn't need to be adored, she didn't want to be, she didn't need to seem adorable – but – she just – she felt – light. Giddy. Twenty-four.

She had the rest of her life. She was twenty-four.

"Han," she kept saying, her hand on his cheek, smiling right into his eyes. "You look so handsome in this light. You're so warm. You make me very happy."

Han, who had had much more to drink than her, kept replying in turn, respectively: "I know. I know. You make me a pretty happy guy too." (And grabbing around her ass too, but good-naturedly, more smirk than sexist entitlement, and she had to admit she didn't mind feeling desired.)

Speaking of desire – it was pulsing in her, hot and heavy, a low thrumming that made her feel that giddy feeling even more acutely, made every look she exchanged with Han feel charged and thrilling, especially because she could feel that esire radiating off of him too – heat rolling off of him, the way he smoldered at her, grinning and licking his lips just the slightest bit. It reached a – not a climax, ah – well… a climax, why not, when as she was speaking enthusiastically to Wedge Antilles about possible strategy on Coruscant and she could feel Han's breath against her neck, his low voice mumbling in her ear, "You wanna get out of here, sweetheart?"

She rolled her eyes a little but tilted her head back to brush against it his shoulder as a tacit confirmation of her interest. Yes, she very much wanted to get out of here with him. Another reason why she did want the night to end: so she could wake up beside him the next day.

"Don't let me keep you," Wedge said, putting his hands up, his expression a little sly, and she rolled her eyes again as she felt Han's arms wrapping decisively around her waist from behind…

And yes, she wouldn't let Wedge Antilles keep her, but she might let her brother do so.

Her brother, her brother – a bright, glowing, dangerous revelation she hadn't processed much yet, warm yet unpredictable as a flame. It was easy to call him her brother because in a way that's how she'd always felt about him; it was harder to think about the genetic backstory that made them related. Much, much harder. But for once, she didn't have a hard time procrastinating and so their blood, their blood and all its implications – that could wait until tomorrow.

But what couldn't wait until tomorrow was Luke's housing situation tonight, and that grabbed her attention, her do-good and worrying nature, and kept her. She could see the conflicted, faraway look on his face; she had a sense of what all he'd seen and knew his joy was dampened by that. He wouldn't want to party all night. He must be dead tired, too, now that she considered it – had he slept at all last night? He hadn't been with them yesterday. She'd been with them yesterday, and she'd barely slept – going from Han holding her as she wept outside to coming to bed with him in a small Ewok hut, too shaken to concern herself with appearances, letting him lay her out on the woven mat and look at her with worry and trepidation as he made love to her slow and deep, emotional sounds she didn't know she could make croaking out of her throat at his touched. It had done its job, it had comforted her, but even so, as Han fell asleep heavily spooning her, she'd stared at the thatched wall with her skin slick with sweat and fluid and her thoughts racing, racing, racing.

All that to say, she knew what tired felt like. If she weren't so elated she'd be mind-numbingly exhausted. Desperate for a place to lie down.

"Are you alright?" Leia asked gently, wiggling away from Han's grasp with a one second promise. "You look faraway."

"Is it so obvious?" Luke said with a sad-happy smile. "I'm okay. Thank you. Just – overwhelmed."

"It's overwhelming," she agreed earnestly, taking his hands in hers and trying to catch his eyes to say trust me, I trust you, I still trust you no matter who you're from.

"All the most beautiful things are, though."

"Is the Tatooine farmboy in a bit over his head in terms of emotion or inebriation?"

"Both, I think. Don't mind me," Luke urged her. "Enjoy your night. Enjoy your boyfriend, eh?" he added, nodding at a figure rapidly approaching behind her – there was Han, his arms tight around her waist from behind again, his pelvis grinding ever so slightly against her, evidence of his impatience noticeable only by her and succeeding in thrilling her instantly.

"Boyfriend," Leia said amusedly, trying to maintain her typical effortless cool in spite of that thrill. "General, have you heard? You've been promoted to the rank of boyfriend."

"Beats royal concubine, I'll tell you that," Han quipped. "How's it hanging, kid?"

"He's got that melancholy look again," Leia said, letting her arms rest over Han's around her waist. "He never had that melancholy look until he became a Jedi Knight."

"Comes with the territory," Luke offered with another half smile.

"Sorry to hear that," Han said, nodding solemnly with a smirk in his eyes.

"Oh, I think it looks good on him. Very serious, very worldly. He looks older, doesn't he look older?"

"Yeah," Han said, and she could feel his warm smile. "He does look older."

"Think I'll ever look as old as you?" Luke teased, and Han released her to give him a shove.

"Don't let me worry about you," Leia said seriously, reaching out to grab Luke's arm. "I don't wait to worry about either of you laser brains ever again. I've done enough worrying to age me decades."

"Thought I saw a grey in all that hair," Han drawled.

"I thought I did," she shot back.

"I won't let you worry, Leia," Luke promised. "I don't know what comes next, but I know – I won't let you worry."

"Good," she said, "I'll hold you to that. And you're situated, yes? Are you sorted out for the night?"

"I'll figure something out," he assured her. "I can tell you're itching to go. Don't stay up on account of me."

"You look so tired – and you've had a difficult day, you shouldn't be alone at a time like this – Han, he doesn't have anywhere to sleep."

"I'm fine, Leia, I promise," Luke insisted, just as Han replied, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Figure it out for him. You're the one who's been communicating with them – how did you get your – ah – our…"

"C'you believe that, kid? Her Highness's blushing. 'Our.' All red about spending the night in the squat hut of some scoundrel."

"I want to ensure Luke's taken care of and I am not blushing – you should be so lucky to spend the night with me – anyway, you and Luke slept side by side long before you and I did. You, Luke, and the carcass of a tauntaun."

"That's true, actually. Well listen – you'll come sleep with us, alright? There's room."

She was fairly certain he was half-joking, but as far as Leia was concerned, that was perfect – she felt strongly, stronger each moment, that Luke should not be left alone, that he needed them to get through the evening, maybe because she'd had her fair share of lonely, painful nights in the wake of her world being upended. Having him near felt right, very right. "That's – an excellent solution, actually," Leia said, nodding firmly. "I should've thought of that. There really is room. It'll be like old times."

She wasn't sure what old times she was referring to, actually. She had slept very close to Luke in the ship's crew cabin many times, so much that she could recognize the patterns of his breathing with her eyes closed. There was also that one time the environmental controls on the Falcon had fritzed and the three of them had all curled up together for warmth; she remembered how it felt weirdly like when she was a child, curled up in her parents' bed after a nightmare, that sense of squishiness and safety and warmth. Having them near, knowing the people most important to her were alright, being able to hear their heartbeats. That was what she wanted, needed, to bridge the world of tonight into tomorrow.

Luke looked a bit shocked and coughed a little. "Oh, wow. That's alright. I don't want to crowd you two."

"It's too small in there for whatever you're thinking," Leia assured him, which was a half truth – it wasn't too small for the sort of slow, intense, emotional lovemaking that had occurred within there yesterday, but it was definitely too cramped for the sort of whirlwind ecstatic we-toppled-the-goddamn-emperor sex she imagined her night was rapidly hurtling towards.

"I don't want to intrude. Seriously."

"You're not intruding," Leia said. "I would tell you if you were. I wouldn't say otherwise just to be polite about it. When you're ready to come up for the night, you'll stay with us."

"You're not intruding," Han agreed. "Besides, we gotta keep our eyes on you. Don't want you to go running half way across the galaxy on us again. 'Specially now that you're her family, huh?"

"You just promised not to let me worry about you," Leia said, and she gave him the location of their hut before kissing his cheek. How long had it been since she did so, for luck, before they hurled themselves across that gaping emptiness on the Death Star? Five years? Could the three of them have only know each other for five years?

"See you upstairs, kid," Han said, and then they were ascending into the sky as a pair.

"Thank you," Leia said breathlessly when they were out of earshot. "I didn't mean to trample upon our evening. I just worry."

"Nah, don't worry about it. Still – amazing how if you worry about Luke you don't gotta think about how you're feeling."

"I feel good. I feel fine," she insisted. "I feel so much that I don't even know where to begin, actually. But I know I feel very well-loved by those close to me, and that's more than I've felt in a very long time, and I…"

She sort of trailed off, caught up in how he looked, tall and radiant, framed in starlight and the twinkling shadows cast by flames. Handsome, hers…

He saw her looking, leaned back against the massive tree's trunk, and smirked

"I feel that that's exactly the type of galaxy I want to build," Leia finished slowly, carefully, diplomatically. "One organized by common love between beings, and mutual support, and a belief that success for one is an indicator for success for us all…"

"Sounds peachy," Han said, and he gave her a lazy, amused, desiring smile.

"I don't want to stop fighting until everyone can find everything I've been able to find, in spite of everything taken from me. That sense of security, of safety through my connection to others. To people like Luke and of course to you. I'm very lucky to feel how you've made me feel."

"What can I say. You're welcome, princess."

"I'm serious."

"You're drunk."

"I'm drunk and I'm serious. I'm lucky, for you. I'm lucky to have you. I have a very good feeling, Han," she said seriously, watching his eyes dance with amusement at her sincerity. "I have a very good feeling about tomorrow, about you."

And maybe it was the liquor but it felt like it was less than a second before he had her up against the tree, his arms tight around her as hers were tossed around his neck, her legs hitched up around his hips with her skirt shoved up to her waist, their lips locked urgently. In the daytime, less inebriated, and less thrilled with victory, she would be a little quieter – instead, she found herself gasping audibly, even moaning as he kissed his way down her neck, sloppy and desirous and hungry.

Grinding his pelvis against where her legs came together, grinning against her ear as he sucked on its edge: "I got a real good feelin' about you too, princess."

"I want you," Leia found herself gasping, her vision blurring, all flickering lights and dark foliage and breath and feeling. "I want you very badly, always, for a long time, every day I think…"

He was laughing as he tugged her underwear to her knees with one hand, thumbing at her breasts with the other. "Every day? That so?"

"I think so, yes…" she said, nodding a bit deliriously, her voice solemn as she squirmedwith pleasure. "Every day at least, if it's possible. I wouldn't mind."

"Wouldn't mind either," he grunted as he grabbed her ass and pressed her against the bark, and she could feel his smile flush against her – how happy he seemed, how eager and silly and elated. "You're gorgeous, fuck, you're so damn pretty…" Grunting again, then sliding a finger into her as she gasped. "Pretty. My pretty princess. Shit." She groaned and started to reaching for his belt, but he stopped her hand – "Leia – wait – I don't have anythin'..."

She shut her eyes and did some quick mental math. Her cycle – Tatooine – it had been… "It's fine," she assured him after a dizzied moment, kissing his nose and smiling broadly. "It should be fine, I'm fine – it's a good time."

"Good," he said, grinning back and brushing her hair out of her face before getting to work on his belt.

"I'm surprised, Han," she murmured, pressing small kisses against his jaw. "That was an easy one."

"Yeah?" he said, his voice starting to sound strangled as she took him in her hands eagerly.

"Mhm," she said, grinning. "No – I'll show you a good time?"

"Show me one, then," he drawled, and then she was so full, and warm, and light, and flying, because he was inside her.

Later, they were cuddling idly in the hut – how strange it felt, to use the word cuddling in a sentence having anything to do with her, or Han, who both had to detangle their weapons from themselves every time they laid down – when finally, Luke crawled inside to join them, hand over his eyes. "Clothes on?" he asked, and though it seemed halfway teasing, it also seemed halfway true.

"I don't like this," Leia said crossly after answering in the affirmative. "You shouldn't treat us as though we're completely different people just because we've become involved. When have you ever known me to not be exceedingly careful and polite? Of course our clothes are on."

"Evening, kid," Han said drowsily, draped all over her and blinking blearily.

"I know you have discretion. It's Han I'm not so sure about," Luke assured her. "Uh – I can still… I'm sure I can find somewhere…"

"Nahhh, come over here," Han insisted in that same sleepy voice. "Old times, like the princess said."

"Are we going to be demoted as your best friends, Luke?" Leia asked in a hush as Luke carefully removed his shoes and jacket. "Because we're involved?"

"'Involved,' 'involved'... and you all call me old…" Han muttered.

"I've always thought of Han as a brother," Luke said after a moment. Over Han's arm, Leia could see him considering his saber, delicately placing it in one of his boots. "And you're my sister now, so. The best of friends."

"Always?" Leia wanted to know.

"Sure. An insufferable, smart ass big brother."

"Hey. You wanna lose your bed?" Han demanded.

"No, no… is here okay?"

"I can go in the middle," Leia offered, sitting up and going to scoot. Han snorted loudly, and she shot him a dirty look. "Don't make it filthy," she scolded.

"Had that dream once, y'know," Han drawled easily, his voice cocky and smirking even in exhaustion. "You were in the middle that time, too."

"Unbelievable," Leia hissed, flushing.

"Gross, Han," Luke added, for good measure.

"It was weird as hell, don't worry, not like I woke up thinking hell yeah. Felt way off. Maybe the Force tryna send me a sign 'bout the whole siblings thing, huh?"

"I'm not listening to a word you're saying," Leia insisted, bright red.

"Makes you wonder about that medbay kiss…"

"Han!" she shrieked.

"Keep it up and she'll see that you're the one without a bed," Luke noted, trying to hide his mortification.

"Alright, alright, forget I said it. How 'bout I go in the middle, huh?"

"You and a pair of twins, captain?" Leia muttered, and Luke flushed again, even more scandalized.

"That's general to you. And no. It's just the widest there, and m'the tallest by far."

"Uh-huh," Leia said, but she let him move past her and then curled up under his arm contentedly.

She could feel Luke's trepidation rolling off of him, his worriedness, his uncertainty about the future. It unsettled her – reminded her, really, of how much she was ignoring, putting off for future Leia, in her elation. He watched his father die, a voice in her head murmured. Another, then: He isn't his father. He isn't your father.

Then: Han doesn't know he isn't, is, your father.

She reached out across Han's broad chest and gave Luke's hand a quick squeeze. "Good night, you two," she whispered in a voice she hoped was reassuring even as she felt her own resolve trickling out of her, fear about tomorrow chilling her blood. "Sleep well."

"Enough with the mothering, Your Worship," Han mumbled. "Give it a rest. Go to bed."

"Sleep, Leia," Luke urged as well, but he gave her a little smile.

"I'll see you in the morning," she added insistently. "I will see you tomorrow." I will face tomorrow. I will have the most important people in my life with me, and I will confidently face tomorrow.

"That's right," Han mumbled, and he held her tightly under his arm, warm and safe and home. "We'll be there."

#

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