Attributes: Han-centric, HanxLeia, Twinbonding. Movie-verse. Some of the scenes are my own creation, many of them are straight from the movies.
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Realization hit with what felt like the full force of an Imperial blaster gun. But, oh, it felt good. It felt wonderful.
Her brother. Luke Skywalker was Leia Organa's brother. Twin brother, he realized. They told me themselves that they were the same age.
Now that he knew, it seemed almost… obvious – or at least as obvious as a sibling relationship could be between any two perfect strangers thrown together at the age of 19 by the workings of Fate and the Force. If he thought about it, he could almost trace a family resemblance. Leia took after their mother, he knew, which left Luke to take after their father, but they were built the same – tall, sinewy, and slender – and were nearly of a height. Leia's eyes were brown and Luke's were blue, but they were both wide and deep-set in the characteristic Tatooinian glare. Their eyes were different colors, but they flashed the same way when they were angry, danced the same way when they found – usually the same – something amusing, watered the same way when they were in pain. Not that he'd ever let either of them know that he'd witnessed the few tears that they'd shed. He liked all of his limbs just where they were, thanks.
They tilted their heads the same way when they considered something, they sighed the same way when they were disappointed, they sought solitude when they were confused and unhappy, offered him that bemused, heart-wrenching smile when they were confused and happy.
Han could have laughed for joy. He felt the mirth bubbling up in his throat, but noticed vaguely that his mouth was being pressed in place, holding the laughter in.
No wonder! Hadn't he always been called the most anti-social smuggler in the galaxy? Han's friends were few and far between, and even those who he considered friends were usually mere acquaintances, often for convenience, that he held at arm length. Of course the two people who had ever managed to really disarm him would be related.
Suddenly, it all made sense. The easy camaraderie that the two had shared, as if by instinct, from nearly the moment they had first met. The gentleness and love in Leia's voice every time she spoke to Luke, or about him. The comfortable gestures, the touches, the hugs, and the physical affection that had always come so naturally to his two closest companions. And who wants a gentle lover anyway? Han thought light-heartedly. She's welcome to use all the tenderness she wants on the kid – I like her feisty.
In a moment, Han's memory had swept across every instant he had experienced in the twin's company, re-examined every moment of hurt and jealousy and anger, starting from the very beginning.
"You think a girl like her and a guy like me could ever…?" Han had asked, just to get the kid's goat.
"No." Luke replied, too quickly. It had been funny at the time, troubling a few days later when Han had realized that he, Han Solo, might actually want a chance with Her Worship. Now, however, it was a sweet gesture, an instinctive attempt to protect a long-lost sister from a known scoundrel and womanizer. Any brother would have done the same.
"Hey, Your Worship!" Han had called, the only announcement he gave before barging into Leia's rooms. It was a breach of protocol in both the aristocratic and the military sense to walk into a superior officer's rooms, uninvited, but Han couldn't miss the chance to rile the girl up. He was surprised when he was met with no scream of rage, no blunt objects thrown at his head, not even an icily superior glare. Instead, he entered a silent room, recently made untidy by a strange assortment of jackets and (small) men's dress shirts all over the floor. Han almost turned and left, sensing that he might have stumbled on something that he hadn't wanted to know about, when he heard voices, raised in either anger or mirth. His protective instinct – and his thrice-cursed nosiness – got the better of him, and he followed the voices to the Princess's fresher. The door was open, framing a disgruntled Luke, trying valiantly to get away from a finely dressed Leia whose hair was hanging down her back in loose hunks as she struggled to stuff him into a heavy gold jacket.
"Just put – it – on!" she panted, as Luke made another break for freedom. He probably would have been long gone by now, if his noble nature hadn't been keeping him from causing any harm to the princess.
"Lei-a," Luke whined. Han raised his eyebrows. Luke had always been careful to call her by her formal title in his hearing. "This is the fifth jacket you've stuffed me into! Why can't I just wear my standard-issue uniform and have done with it?"
"Because!" Leia snapped. "It's an award ceremony, in your honor! You have to look the part. Like it or not, you're an icon now. You have to live up to people's expectations."
"Then why aren't you dressing me?" Han had quipped, notifying the two to his presence, and the relieved look in Luke's eyes at seeing the older man had (mostly) alleviated his suspicions that something more adult was going on than a bossy princess trying to play dress-up with her favorite new toy.
"Because no one has any expectations of you," Leia snapped, automatically adopting the holier-than-thou posture she always took when dealing with the space pirate. This gave Luke enough leverage to finally break free. What had been at the time a distinctly compromising position to catch the two kids in now seemed like a display of sisterly affection deliciously characteristic of his future bride. Of course she would try to dress her brother up in something flashy. She did her best to always look eye-catching… but maybe he only thought that because she could have caught Han's eyes virtually anywhere, wearing virtually anything.
Han was just about to embark on another incredibly dangerous mission, this time on the planet Hoth, looking for the idiot kid when he hadn't turned up for the night. As Han swung himself up onto his animal, he felt a hand pull on his boot. He looked down to see Leia, breathless with worry and intensity. She beckoned for him to bring his head closer to hers, and for one dizzying instant he thought she would kiss him. However, once their faces were nearly level she simply whispered, voice throbbing with emotion, "You bring him back." To his credit, Han had never held this episode against the love of his life. Even at the time, it had occurred to him that there was an implicit demand to bring himself back safe, along with the kid. However, he had wondered sometimes, during his more unpleasant sleepless nights, whether Leia's eyes would have burned quite so brightly had it been him caught in the sub-siberian night. Looking back on this moment now, however, Han could recognize the trust implied in their small exchange. When it had really counted, and the most vulnerable part of Leia's soul had gone missing, she had entrusted him to bring it back safely. No questions asked.
The kiss Leia had given Luke in the med-center on Hoth was still fresh in Han's memory. It was the first time that he had truly been jealous of the kid, the first time that one of Leia's barbs hit true. He had just finished valiantly rescuing his best (human) friend from almost certain death, and was feeling the part of the tragic hero because no one was paying one whit of attention to him for the dangers and injuries he had sustained. And then, to top it all off, a woman that he had very nearly admitted that he was in love with went and kissed the friend he had just gone to all the effort of saving! Han wasn't nearly spiteful enough to regret saving Luke's life, but the exchange had left him very aware of the amount of spite that he had in his personality. This one he'd have to be sure to ask Leia about. It was possible that at the time she had been unaware of their kinship, but Han felt that Leia had been playing the part of the devoted older sister to Luke for a long time before this had taken place. Some siblings, Han knew, were extremely comfortable with physical displays of affection, and by all accounts it looked like Luke and Leia were a prime example. Some brothers and sisters he had seen hold hands, wrap arms around each other, even seek out each other's beds at night if they were in need of comfort. With a sibling relationship like that, maybe a kiss – a chaste kiss, he reminded himself, even if it had been elongated for his benefit – was inconsequential, in the scheme of things. That self-satisfied boredom Luke had plastered on his face once Leia had stormed out of the room was another matter, but Han had (hoped) suspected even at the time that that had more to do with one-upping the older man than it had to do with romantic interest.
And from that point on, everything had happened too quickly for the three of them to have much time to interact. There had been the prolonged period of Han's carbonite hibernation, which until a moment ago Han would have cursed as the root of Luke having become Leia's new conquest. After that, Luke had rescued him from Jabba the Hut – apparently not batting an eyelash at Leia's provocative enslavement, which Han promised himself he'd ask Luke about – and flown off on his own. The next time he had seen him was when he had burst into the Rebellion's War Meeting. It was also the first time that Han had worried that his Leia might have been lost to him for good.
Luke, for being a poor farm boy from the farthest possible planet from the center of the civilized galaxy, had quite a flair for the dramatic, making his entrance like that. As Luke had strode purposefully down the steps to the main dais, Han had felt a jolt somewhere just under his heart. The naïve, often stupid little boy he had grown so fond of was apparently gone, replaced by this striking young man. Dressed all in black, with that terrifyingly incomprehensible power cloaking him like a robe, Han had thought that Luke really was a Jedi knight. At the very least, he certainly looked like he had stepped out of one of the old myths; he looked like a hero. Han had been proud and a little sad – it made him feel old to watch his young friends grow up that way – but he had honestly been over-joyed to see him. He stood, began making his way over to tussle Luke's hair, to try to get him to look more like the Luke that he remembered, when Leia intercepted him.
He hadn't known at the time, and in his heart Han knew he'd never truly understand what had passed between the two of them in that instant, but Han had felt it as if it were a tangible force. The look of wistful, undying love that Han could see in Luke's eyes over the top of Leia's head reminded him of what his own eyes might contain when he looked on that same woman. Leia had pulled away, but she kept her hands firmly on Luke's shoulders, a display of warmth that he himself was unaccustomed to from his frosty princess. When he had joined them, and Leia had distractedly relinquished one of her hands to him, he had felt like an outsider intruding on something private, sacred. He hadn't liked feeling the third wheel to his own lover, and it was a feeling that would only increase over the next two days.
Han kept careful watch on the two of them as they had flown to Endor, and had been unhappily not-at-all surprised by the quiet complicity they seemed to share in almost everything. Most disturbing, to his mind, had been when Han had snuck a discrete look at Luke's face after he nonchalantly dropped a few of his more suggestive endearments for Leia. The expression he had seen had been neither one of jealousy nor of threatened anger, but instead of calm disapproval which had been topped off by Luke grabbing one of Leia's hands and giving it a protective squeeze. Leia seemed so accustomed to Luke's touch that she didn't even notice the intrusion on her personal space, Han had realized with a pang. If he had tried the same thing he would have gotten an immediate – probably negative – reaction.
Han saw the same total, unspoken agreement between his two companions when he had told them to stay put while he took Chewy to take care of the two Storm Troopers in the Endor clearing.
"Hey, this is me," he had said with a flippant smile, and watched Luke's expression of concentration change to one of slightly sarcastic dissatisfaction. Han saw Luke meet Leia's eyes for a fraction of an instant, but in that moment he could feel that they were in total agreement. The moment had shaken him, enough that he carelessly stepped on a branch and alerted the Storm Troopers to their presence. Han had never liked being made to feel young, or inexperienced, or stupid, yet somehow Luke and Leia together made him feel like an awkward teenager, tongue-tied and tripping over his own feet.
Then he had been fighting, and hadn't had time to think about anything else until he heard Leia yell, "There's two more!" and Luke's answering call of, "I see them; Leia, wait!"
Luke sounded as if he was used to giving Leia orders, and was used to having them be, maybe not obeyed, but at least considered by the aloof princess. He also acted like crushing Leia into his abdomen and planting his hands firmly on her waist as they managed to share a single-seated speeder was the most natural thing in the world.
Han had shelved his jealousy as he and Luke had teamed up to look for the princess, although a (spiteful) voice in his head had whispered that had he been the one on the back of the speeder, she would not be missing. Luke's concern over Leia's safety had matched Han's, which had pleased him. If he was going to be displaced by another man, at least it would be a worthy one. Luke, however, did not share Han's panic, and conducted the search calmly and methodically, speaking only to tell Han, "I'm sure she's still alive." There had been more than empty comfort in that statement, but Han had been too sick with worry to hear the note of truth and finality in Luke's voice.
Adrenaline, action, and the threat of real and immediate life-threatening danger had pushed the brunt of his panic for Leia's safety out of his mind during his captivity to the Ewok tribe. True, Han had been irritated at the total control with which Luke faced the situation, and even more irritated by the hint of amusement that he could hear in the younger man's voice every time they exchanged words, but the irritation wasn't tinged by the bite of jealousy that had characterized so many of the day's previous interactions.
The jealousy held itself off after he had been released from his spit because Leia ran to him, kissed him, and allowed herself to be thrown into the air. It returned with a vengeance, however, when Luke somehow managed to insinuate himself between Han and Leia. Han didn't even register his presence until he noticed that Luke had grabbed him in an awkward, one-armed hug, and was using his other arm to bodily press Leia to him. After Luke had released Leia, Han couldn't help but notice that her left hand remained hooked on his belt loop. It was a gesture so suggestive that Han could hardly believe that he was looking at his fussy, proper royal. To his infinite dismay, even Han could tell that there was something natural and comfortable about the three of them standing there like that. Han Solo never gave up without a fight, but he knew that there were times when the only thing out of line was yourself.
The final straw, of course, had been what came next. Leia had seemed happy to be in Han's embrace the entire time that C3P0 was recounting the many stories of the Rebellion's adventures to the Ewok tribe. However, as soon as Han had managed to disentangle himself from the many small, furry burrs that he picked up as soon as C3P0 declared that they were now all one big, happy family, Han had noticed that both Luke and Leia were missing. And he had smelled trouble.
Han was not tactful, diplomatic, or discreet, but he was clever and he was sly. While he didn't get the chance to see all of the tearful, earnest conversation, he saw and heard enough to have a pretty good guess as to what was going on.
"…then leave this place! I only wish I could go with you."
Luke had stood up and taken Leia's hands. "No, you don't," he had corrected her softly, his voice containing that singular mixture of pain and longing that made Han cringe. "You've always been strong."
Han had turned away, unable to make himself see or hear more, both because of the pain it inflicted on him, but also from the strange, hallowed ring that the words had as they hit the air. This was not a conversation meant for an outsider. He did turn back, however, just in time to see Luke lower his head so that he was close enough to kiss Leia. They stayed like that for a long moment, and when Luke finally turned away and vanished into the night, Leia kept her hand thrown forward, as if her last memory of Luke's touch was her only lifeline.
Han had chosen that moment to make his entrance, knowing it was a bad idea, knowing he wouldn't be able to control his temper. When Leia had asked him to hold her, a note of panic and loss in her voice, he hadn't been able to refuse, but he held her awkwardly, unwilling to be the second lover of the evening to grasp the indescribable beauty in a true embrace. Of course she would be devastated, he realized now. A woman who had lost her true family, and later her foster family would not take kindly to having a beloved brother ripped from her grasp barely four years after they'd been reunited.
And that brought them nearly up to the present. Their very real, concrete, and important mission had kept him occupied, with no room to breathe, until the entire moon had seen the death star explode in a cloud of smoke and light. There, he had told Leia he would stay out of her hair, and there she had given him that most welcome of revelations.
Her brother. His sister. He could have kissed her. And then he realized that he was – or she was kissing him, at least, so he began to return the favor.
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