Title: Moonlit Silences
Author: Angel
Email: valarltd@hotmail.com
Rating: PG, minor slash content
Summary: Quality time after the Battle of Endor.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are property of Lucasfilm
Ltd.
Distribution: Any and all. You want it, you got it.
Feedback: Here's where I get paid, in applause. If we poor shadows have
offended, think but this and all is mended, etc
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Siusaidh and Cara for their very
helpful suggestions.
*****
Moonlit Silences
c2000 Angelia Sparrow
*****
Wedge Antilles was drunk. The Ewok popskull was more potent
than it tasted. The party was winding down, but the drums were
starting to get to his head. He was lonely. The Rebellion was
short of women, but one would think the hero of the hour, the guy
who'd blown the new Death Star, could at least find one.
He was very drunk. The catwalk was wavering, so he sat on
a primitive bench. A feminine figure strode past him, her
robes fluttering. Impulsively, he leaped up and kissed her,
pulling her to sit on his lap. She didn't protest, so
he kissed her again before opening his eyes. Mon Mothma,
the grande old dame of the Alliance, smiled indulgently at him.
Her short hair glinted gold in the firelight as she stood up.
Well, in the dark all kitkins were grey, Wedge decided. "You
wanna shee my blasht rifle?" he slurred.
Her smile turned icy. "Is _that_ what I felt?" Wedge hadn't been
that cold since Hoth. "I thought it was a malfunctioning palmgun."
Apparently pushed past her levels of indulgence, she walked away.
Wedge decided another drink was in order. He was asleep on the
bench before the end of it.
Luke Skywalker prowled the catwalks of the Ewok village. He watched
the fighters drop their fireworks, the sparks descending to mingle
with those still rising from his father's pyre.
The party was dying down and most people had gone to
their sleeping spots. He passed Wedge snoring lightly on
a bench, and paused briefly outside of the house Leia had been given.
He listened to his sister's light breathing, still trying to get
his mind around the concept. He supposed she was having
trouble with the realization she actually had a living relative
as well.
"Eavesdropping?" asked a soft voice from the edge of
the catwalk. "Not much to hear now."
Han was sitting on the edge, dangling bare feet off
the walk. Luke sat beside him.
"Just checking to make sure she was all right."
"Big brother stuff, hunh?"
"You love her, don't you?" he asked, smiling at his friend.
"Of course I do. But, I've been doing some deep thinking tonight.
And I know enough to know I'm not what she needs, Luke."
"Maybe you should let her judge that."
"I'm not sure her judgement's real clear right
now. And I just clouded it a little more.
Let me get my boots. Walk with me."
He stepped back inside Leia's treehouse,
and emerged, boots in one hand. He tugged them
on and jerked his head in the direction of the
ladder. Luke, pondering this new development,
followed him down to the forest floor.
They walked a way through the underbrush in silence
until they reached a small clearing. The fighters
had quit dropping fireworks,
"You made love to her."
Han had the good grace to look embarassed.
"Anyone but you, I'd say the booze. It was
her idea. I shouldn't have. It'll only
make it harder to leave."
"Why are you going?"
"Because she loves me. I love her but
not the same way. She needs someone
who won't tease her about her heritage,
who understands politics. Someone she can depend
on." The words stopped coming, because now he couldn't add
the coda he had rehersed the day before: "someone like you."
"When?"
"Soon as I can convince Chewie to raise ship. It won't be
easy. There'll be the mop-up, and the triage, and
all the usual post-battle garbage. I don't envy you
the job of setting up a new government. You'll be
fighting every power-hungry tin-pot dictator in
the Core and every syndicate on the Rim."
"No offers to take me along this time?" There
was no rancor in the words.
"Hells, ki--Luke, I want to stay. That's
why I've got to go. This hero thing is
wearing worse everyday. It's like a pair of
boots that's a half-size small. You can
wear them for a while, but then they're painful.
And if you wear them too long, you haveta cut them
off to get out of them. I want to get
out before I have to cut myself out."
"The fabled Solo independence." The words
were a half-whisper.
There seemed nothing more to be said. They sat on the
fallen log in silence and watched Endor's moons whirl
through the sky.
"What did Leia tell you?" Luke finally asked.
"She's your sister. Vader's--was-- your father."
The truth, as cold and unblinking as the stars.
Luke smoothed the gloves that covered his
hands. Han stole a glance at him, seeing his
face, pale in the darkness but serene. He caught
the nervous movement with the gloves.
"All we know, in other words."
More silence. True words were like
pale stones, beautiful in their simplicity
under the moons. There was no need to embellish
them.
"Leia's not the reason you're leaving."
"What?"
"I am. Even now, you look at me, all in black, and
wonder. You know about my hand, and wonder how much
more of me will become mechanical. You listen
to me breathe as we sit here in the darkness, and
you hear my father." Luke moved closer and stripped
off his gloves. "I know about Cloud City, Han. I felt
it through the Force. Everything he did to you, I felt it too."
He reached out with the flesh hand laid it over
Han's on the log. The right stayed curled loosely
resting just off his knee, not touching anything.
Han had noticed this tendency lately, of not touching things
with his bare right hand.
"Aah, kid." Han slipped back into the old patterns he
had almost abandoned. Whatever else had happened in
the six months he had been switch-off, Luke had stopped
being a kid and become something far more.
"I don't ever want you to be afraid of me."
"I can't help it. Here I take a little nap, and everything
changes. I mean, one day I'm hauling you out of a blizzard
the next, you're a Jedi Knight, doing stuff I never
dreamed anyone could. I always figured it'd be you and
Leia, but now, she's your sister. And this Dark Side thing..."
Luke tightened his hand over Han's. "It was close up there."
The bunched tension in the man sitting next to him
told Han that it had been far closer than Luke wanted to
think about.
"We're all too close to it, right now."
"Yeah."
The larger moon was setting. They watched until it was
below the horizon.
"Tomorrow is well on its way."
"Wounded to triage. Dead to bury. Imperials to
mop up."
"Leia to face."
"This from a man who defied Jabba blind and sick."
"Yeah, well, that was easy. You can't just go
to the girl who loves you and tell her..."
"Tell her what?"
Han fell silent and watched the bulk of the
planet set above the forest moon. Well, why not?
"Tell her that I love her brother." He turned
his hand over and grasped Luke's. He moved around
to face his friend.
Luke smiled, and offered his other hand. They
sat looking at each other as the sun began to rise.
Author: Angel
Email: valarltd@hotmail.com
Rating: PG, minor slash content
Summary: Quality time after the Battle of Endor.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are property of Lucasfilm
Ltd.
Distribution: Any and all. You want it, you got it.
Feedback: Here's where I get paid, in applause. If we poor shadows have
offended, think but this and all is mended, etc
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Siusaidh and Cara for their very
helpful suggestions.
*****
Moonlit Silences
c2000 Angelia Sparrow
*****
Wedge Antilles was drunk. The Ewok popskull was more potent
than it tasted. The party was winding down, but the drums were
starting to get to his head. He was lonely. The Rebellion was
short of women, but one would think the hero of the hour, the guy
who'd blown the new Death Star, could at least find one.
He was very drunk. The catwalk was wavering, so he sat on
a primitive bench. A feminine figure strode past him, her
robes fluttering. Impulsively, he leaped up and kissed her,
pulling her to sit on his lap. She didn't protest, so
he kissed her again before opening his eyes. Mon Mothma,
the grande old dame of the Alliance, smiled indulgently at him.
Her short hair glinted gold in the firelight as she stood up.
Well, in the dark all kitkins were grey, Wedge decided. "You
wanna shee my blasht rifle?" he slurred.
Her smile turned icy. "Is _that_ what I felt?" Wedge hadn't been
that cold since Hoth. "I thought it was a malfunctioning palmgun."
Apparently pushed past her levels of indulgence, she walked away.
Wedge decided another drink was in order. He was asleep on the
bench before the end of it.
Luke Skywalker prowled the catwalks of the Ewok village. He watched
the fighters drop their fireworks, the sparks descending to mingle
with those still rising from his father's pyre.
The party was dying down and most people had gone to
their sleeping spots. He passed Wedge snoring lightly on
a bench, and paused briefly outside of the house Leia had been given.
He listened to his sister's light breathing, still trying to get
his mind around the concept. He supposed she was having
trouble with the realization she actually had a living relative
as well.
"Eavesdropping?" asked a soft voice from the edge of
the catwalk. "Not much to hear now."
Han was sitting on the edge, dangling bare feet off
the walk. Luke sat beside him.
"Just checking to make sure she was all right."
"Big brother stuff, hunh?"
"You love her, don't you?" he asked, smiling at his friend.
"Of course I do. But, I've been doing some deep thinking tonight.
And I know enough to know I'm not what she needs, Luke."
"Maybe you should let her judge that."
"I'm not sure her judgement's real clear right
now. And I just clouded it a little more.
Let me get my boots. Walk with me."
He stepped back inside Leia's treehouse,
and emerged, boots in one hand. He tugged them
on and jerked his head in the direction of the
ladder. Luke, pondering this new development,
followed him down to the forest floor.
They walked a way through the underbrush in silence
until they reached a small clearing. The fighters
had quit dropping fireworks,
"You made love to her."
Han had the good grace to look embarassed.
"Anyone but you, I'd say the booze. It was
her idea. I shouldn't have. It'll only
make it harder to leave."
"Why are you going?"
"Because she loves me. I love her but
not the same way. She needs someone
who won't tease her about her heritage,
who understands politics. Someone she can depend
on." The words stopped coming, because now he couldn't add
the coda he had rehersed the day before: "someone like you."
"When?"
"Soon as I can convince Chewie to raise ship. It won't be
easy. There'll be the mop-up, and the triage, and
all the usual post-battle garbage. I don't envy you
the job of setting up a new government. You'll be
fighting every power-hungry tin-pot dictator in
the Core and every syndicate on the Rim."
"No offers to take me along this time?" There
was no rancor in the words.
"Hells, ki--Luke, I want to stay. That's
why I've got to go. This hero thing is
wearing worse everyday. It's like a pair of
boots that's a half-size small. You can
wear them for a while, but then they're painful.
And if you wear them too long, you haveta cut them
off to get out of them. I want to get
out before I have to cut myself out."
"The fabled Solo independence." The words
were a half-whisper.
There seemed nothing more to be said. They sat on the
fallen log in silence and watched Endor's moons whirl
through the sky.
"What did Leia tell you?" Luke finally asked.
"She's your sister. Vader's--was-- your father."
The truth, as cold and unblinking as the stars.
Luke smoothed the gloves that covered his
hands. Han stole a glance at him, seeing his
face, pale in the darkness but serene. He caught
the nervous movement with the gloves.
"All we know, in other words."
More silence. True words were like
pale stones, beautiful in their simplicity
under the moons. There was no need to embellish
them.
"Leia's not the reason you're leaving."
"What?"
"I am. Even now, you look at me, all in black, and
wonder. You know about my hand, and wonder how much
more of me will become mechanical. You listen
to me breathe as we sit here in the darkness, and
you hear my father." Luke moved closer and stripped
off his gloves. "I know about Cloud City, Han. I felt
it through the Force. Everything he did to you, I felt it too."
He reached out with the flesh hand laid it over
Han's on the log. The right stayed curled loosely
resting just off his knee, not touching anything.
Han had noticed this tendency lately, of not touching things
with his bare right hand.
"Aah, kid." Han slipped back into the old patterns he
had almost abandoned. Whatever else had happened in
the six months he had been switch-off, Luke had stopped
being a kid and become something far more.
"I don't ever want you to be afraid of me."
"I can't help it. Here I take a little nap, and everything
changes. I mean, one day I'm hauling you out of a blizzard
the next, you're a Jedi Knight, doing stuff I never
dreamed anyone could. I always figured it'd be you and
Leia, but now, she's your sister. And this Dark Side thing..."
Luke tightened his hand over Han's. "It was close up there."
The bunched tension in the man sitting next to him
told Han that it had been far closer than Luke wanted to
think about.
"We're all too close to it, right now."
"Yeah."
The larger moon was setting. They watched until it was
below the horizon.
"Tomorrow is well on its way."
"Wounded to triage. Dead to bury. Imperials to
mop up."
"Leia to face."
"This from a man who defied Jabba blind and sick."
"Yeah, well, that was easy. You can't just go
to the girl who loves you and tell her..."
"Tell her what?"
Han fell silent and watched the bulk of the
planet set above the forest moon. Well, why not?
"Tell her that I love her brother." He turned
his hand over and grasped Luke's. He moved around
to face his friend.
Luke smiled, and offered his other hand. They
sat looking at each other as the sun began to rise.