Leia paused to free the hem of her skirt from a clutching thorn branch. The vegetation on this Mid-Rim planet, Hudsart, was certainly less than friendly. She glanced back at the glimmer of lights from the Rebel base, set snugly against the foot of the steep hill she was climbing. That would be the supply convoy in from Tanis Prime. The logistics of that convoy had been causing her problems for days. Unless something drastic had occurred, everything should be running smoothly now. She did not intend to be around to find out; it was somebody else's problem now. She wished she could say the same of at the least three other jobs that were waiting for her back in the base, but it was well into her off-shift. She had worked enough that day.
Besides, there was something else she had to do.
She reached the top of the hill, and sat down on a convenient rock. She shivered; it was a clear, breezy night, and now she wasn't moving, the wind struck cold through her dress.
From below, a crash and a sudden darkness proclaimed the failure of the landing platform lights. Faint shouts and banging drifted up to her, running figures waved glowsticks. Leia sighed, and shifted her gaze to the sky above her. Bright, nearby stars patterned unfamiliar constellations, and across the roof of the sky arched the milky track of the Core.
Leia unhooked a pair of macrobinoculars from her belt and set them to the coordinates she had snagged from the base computer. The binocs focused on a single star, low over the horizon. It was not particularly bright or splendid, but Leia stared at it until her eyes were so full of tears she saw six stars. She dropped the binocs and buried her face in her hands.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Daddy, Mother, everyone. I tried so hard—I miss you all so much. So much..."
A sob tore its way from her throat, then another. Once started, it was impossible to stop. She rose blindly to her feet, taking a few aimless steps. But she caught her foot on a root or a stone and promptly fell her length, her skirt spilling round her in a pool of white.
It was thus that Luke found her, some time later. She wasn't even aware of him being there until he was stooping over her, though he had been calling her name.
"Oh, Leia," he exclaimed hoarsely, chafing her icy hands.
"So...cold..." she said faintly. Luke's voice seemed to her to be coming from a long way off. He hauled her to her feet, but her legs were too numb and shaky to support her, and she collapsed against him. So he picked her up bodily and carried her to the base.
The warm air of the corridor revived her a little. Luke, put me down, she tried to say, but "L—L—Luke," was all she managed through her violently chattering teeth.
He didn't answer, but jabbed the door release control of her room with his elbow, strode in and dumped her unceremoniously on her bunk. Leia grabbed her blankets, curling up into a shivering ball. Luke, after closing the door and flicking the thermal heaters to full power, came and perched beside her, wrapping both the blankets and his arms around her shoulders.
"You're frozen half to death!" he exclaimed, hands rubbing her back and arms through the blanket. Leia leaned her head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his body filter through to hers.
"What happened to you?"
She shook her head. Here, cocooned against Luke, the grief she had felt up on the hill had retreated to a manageable distance, and her normal shields were back up.
"I fell over and hurt my ankle," she lied. The ankle she had twisted did hurt, but certainly not enough to prevent her walking on it. But any excuse was better than admitting she'd nearly given herself hypothermia lying sobbing on cold ground for hours.
Luke pulled her boots off and examined the injured foot.
"Your feet are like ice-blocks," he muttered, running his thumbs over her ankle.
"Ow," she said obligingly.
"Not broken," he said, giving her foot an experimental waggle. "Hardly even swollen."
He looked up at her, blue eyes giving her that intense look that only he could, the look that made her feel as though he could see right into the hidden places of her soul. She squirmed under that candid, clear-eyed gaze.
"You have such tiny little feet," Luke observed. He still had hold of her foot, running his fingers from ankle to toes and back again, but his eyes were on hers.
"Tiny little cold feet," he continued, the merest hint of accusation in his tone.
"There should be a heatpack under the bed," Leia informed him. She wanted him to stop looking at her so disconcertingly more than she wanted the heatpack, cold as she was. He knows I lied. How in the galaxy...?
Luke pulled out the drawer beneath her bunk, rummaging around with what seemed an unnecessary amount of noise. He came up with a blue heatpack in each hand, kneading them to start the chemical gel inside releasing its stored energy.
"What were you doing up on the hill anyway?" he asked, fingers still busy.
"What were you doing there, if it comes to that? Give them here, Luke. They're bound to be well activated now."
She took the heatpacks from him and slapped one down at her feet, tucking the blanket over them, avoiding his eyes. She felt guilty over lying to him, probably because he had never lied to her. But if she started talking about Alderaan, she would cry again. She hugged the other heatpack under her left arm. Luke flopped down on the bunk, swinging one booted foot.
"I had this feeling that I should take a walk. Luckily for you."
He had a hand on her shoulder again, so close to her that she could feel his breathing. His voice was gentle, reassuring. Leia leaned her head on his shoulder again, and wiggled her feet against the heatpack. She could feel her toes again, for the first time since leaving the base. She sighed wearily, letting her mind drift, not thinking or feeling.
"You didn't answer my question."
Leia jerked her head sideways, annoyed. Luke had been a comforting presence when he was just sitting next to her, but she didn't want him interrogating her again.
"Luke..."
"Tell me, Leia."
She pulled away from him, leaning back against the wall.
"I was looking at Alderaan, if you want to know so much," she snapped at last. Luke's face turned contrite instantly. She continued, "If you had a powerful enough telescope, you could see the planet. The cities and the oceans and everything. I could have lived out my life here and never known...and thought..."
She breathed in raggedly, the sobs close again. Luke squeezed her shoulder gently.
"Leia, I know..." The words were soft, almost a caress.
"You didn't see your planet and your people blown into a billion pieces in front of your eyes!" The words tore painfully out of her. Luke's expression of painful sympathy changed to one of wide-eyed hurt. He jerked back from her abruptly.
"I saw my family and my home burned..." His chin quivered, eyes wide and dark as they turned inwards to that remembered horror. "And B—Ben..." He bit down on his lip to stop its trembling, but his eyes were wet.
Leia gasped. Luke's pain and her own entwined in aching counterpoint. He hadn't told her, and stupidly she had never thought, that he had seen the death of his family like that. She reached out to him, clinging to him as though they two were the last survivors of some cosmic disaster.
"Luke, I'm sorry—I didn't mean..." she said, her grief and whatever complex emotions she felt for him welling up unbearably in her throat. She was crying again now, gasping out harsh sobs against his shoulder, hands digging into his collarbones.
"But that wasn't your fault, Luke!"
No, it was yours. The words Luke would never speak, that probably never even occurred to him to think, hung accusingly in her brain. As if she had not enough guilt from her own losses, and had to carry that of Luke's as well.
"Doesn't stop me from feeling like it was," Luke said. He sniffed. "And I suppose you pressed the blasted button yourself—the Imps had nothing to do with it."
"You been taking sarcasm lessons from Han?" She wiped a shaking hand across her eyes. "But you said it yourself, Luke—I can't help feeling that if I had done something different—if I hadn't been caught—if I had been cleverer..."
"They would have blown up a planet anyway," Luke said unconvincingly. He patted her head clumsily, his actions more comforting than his words.
"Not Alderaan though. I know it's selfish, but—"
"They might have. Wasn't there a lot of Rebel activity, loads of support for the Alliance?"
Leia sighed, remembering Leso Saks, Devin Talithna, Lusar Antilles, Mira Avram—all prominent figures on Alderaan, all brave men and women who had supported the fight against the Empire. All dead now. A tear rolled off her cheek onto Luke's shirt. He held her awkwardly, still stroking her head, making soothing noises as she cried. She felt a few tears of his own dampening her hair.
She felt better when her tears were spent, cleansed. And Luke...she reached up to ruffle his hair, ran her fingers through it. She felt suddenly tender towards him, because he had wept with her and because he was safe and warm and somehow, utterly familiar. She turned to him, raising her chin to kiss his cheek, tasted the salt of his tears. His arm tightened round her shoulders.
Leia had never felt this way about anyone, this want that had nothing to do with desire, this quiet love. She tilted her head back to look straight at him, and saw her emotions mirrored in his eyes.
"Are you ok?" he asked, rubbing a hand across his eyes.
"Mmm..." She pulled away from Luke and sat up straight, in control again. She squeezed his arm affectionately.
"Thank you, Luke." He smiled, though his eyelashes were still wet.
"I didn't know you cried," he said artlessly, then floundered, "I mean, I..."
"Fallen off my pedestal, have I?" she asked—gently, without sarcasm.
"No—I—I really admire you—I—you're far stronger than I am—"
He was thoroughly embarrassed now; even his ears were red. He got to his feet and stood by her desk, rearranging her datacards, styluses, bits of flimsy, her datapad.
"You're a wonderful person, Leia," he said softly, apparently addressing her lamp.
A wonderful person...a person... Leia though, and was stubbornly glad that someone saw her as a person saw Leia rather than the Princess, the Rebel figurehead, the forceful commander, the ice queen. Well, two someones, her mind amended as she thought of Han, who certainly put her on no pedestal.
"Are you warm again?" Luke's voice broke into her thoughts.
"I had forgotten I was ever cold," she answered honestly, meaning it in more ways than one. Luke crossed the room and kissed the top of her head. She didn't remember him ever doing that before, but she liked it. It reminded her of her father, when she was a little girl, when she still felt that her father could fix anything, that things were as simple as that.
"G'night, Leia."
"Good night, Luke. I'm glad you found me."
"I'll always find you. I think I was meant to. And not just tonight."
"The Force, you mean?" He nodded. Leia yawned suddenly, sleepiness washing over her. The Force or not, she was glad of whatever had brought them to each other.
"It's good...I'm not...on my own anymore..."
She felt Luke's hand tucking her blanket under her chin, and then she slept.
Besides, there was something else she had to do.
She reached the top of the hill, and sat down on a convenient rock. She shivered; it was a clear, breezy night, and now she wasn't moving, the wind struck cold through her dress.
From below, a crash and a sudden darkness proclaimed the failure of the landing platform lights. Faint shouts and banging drifted up to her, running figures waved glowsticks. Leia sighed, and shifted her gaze to the sky above her. Bright, nearby stars patterned unfamiliar constellations, and across the roof of the sky arched the milky track of the Core.
Leia unhooked a pair of macrobinoculars from her belt and set them to the coordinates she had snagged from the base computer. The binocs focused on a single star, low over the horizon. It was not particularly bright or splendid, but Leia stared at it until her eyes were so full of tears she saw six stars. She dropped the binocs and buried her face in her hands.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Daddy, Mother, everyone. I tried so hard—I miss you all so much. So much..."
A sob tore its way from her throat, then another. Once started, it was impossible to stop. She rose blindly to her feet, taking a few aimless steps. But she caught her foot on a root or a stone and promptly fell her length, her skirt spilling round her in a pool of white.
It was thus that Luke found her, some time later. She wasn't even aware of him being there until he was stooping over her, though he had been calling her name.
"Oh, Leia," he exclaimed hoarsely, chafing her icy hands.
"So...cold..." she said faintly. Luke's voice seemed to her to be coming from a long way off. He hauled her to her feet, but her legs were too numb and shaky to support her, and she collapsed against him. So he picked her up bodily and carried her to the base.
The warm air of the corridor revived her a little. Luke, put me down, she tried to say, but "L—L—Luke," was all she managed through her violently chattering teeth.
He didn't answer, but jabbed the door release control of her room with his elbow, strode in and dumped her unceremoniously on her bunk. Leia grabbed her blankets, curling up into a shivering ball. Luke, after closing the door and flicking the thermal heaters to full power, came and perched beside her, wrapping both the blankets and his arms around her shoulders.
"You're frozen half to death!" he exclaimed, hands rubbing her back and arms through the blanket. Leia leaned her head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his body filter through to hers.
"What happened to you?"
She shook her head. Here, cocooned against Luke, the grief she had felt up on the hill had retreated to a manageable distance, and her normal shields were back up.
"I fell over and hurt my ankle," she lied. The ankle she had twisted did hurt, but certainly not enough to prevent her walking on it. But any excuse was better than admitting she'd nearly given herself hypothermia lying sobbing on cold ground for hours.
Luke pulled her boots off and examined the injured foot.
"Your feet are like ice-blocks," he muttered, running his thumbs over her ankle.
"Ow," she said obligingly.
"Not broken," he said, giving her foot an experimental waggle. "Hardly even swollen."
He looked up at her, blue eyes giving her that intense look that only he could, the look that made her feel as though he could see right into the hidden places of her soul. She squirmed under that candid, clear-eyed gaze.
"You have such tiny little feet," Luke observed. He still had hold of her foot, running his fingers from ankle to toes and back again, but his eyes were on hers.
"Tiny little cold feet," he continued, the merest hint of accusation in his tone.
"There should be a heatpack under the bed," Leia informed him. She wanted him to stop looking at her so disconcertingly more than she wanted the heatpack, cold as she was. He knows I lied. How in the galaxy...?
Luke pulled out the drawer beneath her bunk, rummaging around with what seemed an unnecessary amount of noise. He came up with a blue heatpack in each hand, kneading them to start the chemical gel inside releasing its stored energy.
"What were you doing up on the hill anyway?" he asked, fingers still busy.
"What were you doing there, if it comes to that? Give them here, Luke. They're bound to be well activated now."
She took the heatpacks from him and slapped one down at her feet, tucking the blanket over them, avoiding his eyes. She felt guilty over lying to him, probably because he had never lied to her. But if she started talking about Alderaan, she would cry again. She hugged the other heatpack under her left arm. Luke flopped down on the bunk, swinging one booted foot.
"I had this feeling that I should take a walk. Luckily for you."
He had a hand on her shoulder again, so close to her that she could feel his breathing. His voice was gentle, reassuring. Leia leaned her head on his shoulder again, and wiggled her feet against the heatpack. She could feel her toes again, for the first time since leaving the base. She sighed wearily, letting her mind drift, not thinking or feeling.
"You didn't answer my question."
Leia jerked her head sideways, annoyed. Luke had been a comforting presence when he was just sitting next to her, but she didn't want him interrogating her again.
"Luke..."
"Tell me, Leia."
She pulled away from him, leaning back against the wall.
"I was looking at Alderaan, if you want to know so much," she snapped at last. Luke's face turned contrite instantly. She continued, "If you had a powerful enough telescope, you could see the planet. The cities and the oceans and everything. I could have lived out my life here and never known...and thought..."
She breathed in raggedly, the sobs close again. Luke squeezed her shoulder gently.
"Leia, I know..." The words were soft, almost a caress.
"You didn't see your planet and your people blown into a billion pieces in front of your eyes!" The words tore painfully out of her. Luke's expression of painful sympathy changed to one of wide-eyed hurt. He jerked back from her abruptly.
"I saw my family and my home burned..." His chin quivered, eyes wide and dark as they turned inwards to that remembered horror. "And B—Ben..." He bit down on his lip to stop its trembling, but his eyes were wet.
Leia gasped. Luke's pain and her own entwined in aching counterpoint. He hadn't told her, and stupidly she had never thought, that he had seen the death of his family like that. She reached out to him, clinging to him as though they two were the last survivors of some cosmic disaster.
"Luke, I'm sorry—I didn't mean..." she said, her grief and whatever complex emotions she felt for him welling up unbearably in her throat. She was crying again now, gasping out harsh sobs against his shoulder, hands digging into his collarbones.
"But that wasn't your fault, Luke!"
No, it was yours. The words Luke would never speak, that probably never even occurred to him to think, hung accusingly in her brain. As if she had not enough guilt from her own losses, and had to carry that of Luke's as well.
"Doesn't stop me from feeling like it was," Luke said. He sniffed. "And I suppose you pressed the blasted button yourself—the Imps had nothing to do with it."
"You been taking sarcasm lessons from Han?" She wiped a shaking hand across her eyes. "But you said it yourself, Luke—I can't help feeling that if I had done something different—if I hadn't been caught—if I had been cleverer..."
"They would have blown up a planet anyway," Luke said unconvincingly. He patted her head clumsily, his actions more comforting than his words.
"Not Alderaan though. I know it's selfish, but—"
"They might have. Wasn't there a lot of Rebel activity, loads of support for the Alliance?"
Leia sighed, remembering Leso Saks, Devin Talithna, Lusar Antilles, Mira Avram—all prominent figures on Alderaan, all brave men and women who had supported the fight against the Empire. All dead now. A tear rolled off her cheek onto Luke's shirt. He held her awkwardly, still stroking her head, making soothing noises as she cried. She felt a few tears of his own dampening her hair.
She felt better when her tears were spent, cleansed. And Luke...she reached up to ruffle his hair, ran her fingers through it. She felt suddenly tender towards him, because he had wept with her and because he was safe and warm and somehow, utterly familiar. She turned to him, raising her chin to kiss his cheek, tasted the salt of his tears. His arm tightened round her shoulders.
Leia had never felt this way about anyone, this want that had nothing to do with desire, this quiet love. She tilted her head back to look straight at him, and saw her emotions mirrored in his eyes.
"Are you ok?" he asked, rubbing a hand across his eyes.
"Mmm..." She pulled away from Luke and sat up straight, in control again. She squeezed his arm affectionately.
"Thank you, Luke." He smiled, though his eyelashes were still wet.
"I didn't know you cried," he said artlessly, then floundered, "I mean, I..."
"Fallen off my pedestal, have I?" she asked—gently, without sarcasm.
"No—I—I really admire you—I—you're far stronger than I am—"
He was thoroughly embarrassed now; even his ears were red. He got to his feet and stood by her desk, rearranging her datacards, styluses, bits of flimsy, her datapad.
"You're a wonderful person, Leia," he said softly, apparently addressing her lamp.
A wonderful person...a person... Leia though, and was stubbornly glad that someone saw her as a person saw Leia rather than the Princess, the Rebel figurehead, the forceful commander, the ice queen. Well, two someones, her mind amended as she thought of Han, who certainly put her on no pedestal.
"Are you warm again?" Luke's voice broke into her thoughts.
"I had forgotten I was ever cold," she answered honestly, meaning it in more ways than one. Luke crossed the room and kissed the top of her head. She didn't remember him ever doing that before, but she liked it. It reminded her of her father, when she was a little girl, when she still felt that her father could fix anything, that things were as simple as that.
"G'night, Leia."
"Good night, Luke. I'm glad you found me."
"I'll always find you. I think I was meant to. And not just tonight."
"The Force, you mean?" He nodded. Leia yawned suddenly, sleepiness washing over her. The Force or not, she was glad of whatever had brought them to each other.
"It's good...I'm not...on my own anymore..."
She felt Luke's hand tucking her blanket under her chin, and then she slept.