Leia felt like she could break from the beauty of it all, lying there in the grassy forest clearing she and Han had stumbled upon earlier, his body still curled warm and lazily against her own as he slept beside her. Like she could crack wide open, split down right to her soul, from the warmth and fullness and vibrancy and peace — the peace that had until now only settled hesitantly on her heart like a question, but now sank deep, deep down through her bones and into the very earth beneath her. Endor itself celebrated its recent liberation; she could feel it now, in that intangible certainty she was coming to realize was the Force. Everything around her seemed to be moving in concert, singing in harmony. The ground, blanketed in soft grass and fallen leaves, thrummed beneath her, birds trilled all around her (she had noticed none before), leaves danced on their limbs high above her, the exultation of beings near and far wove threaded melodies on the wind, and the very air seemed brighter and fuller, ringing with victory and joy.

She had never felt so alive, or so aware of the life around her.

Idly she raised a hand, twirling it around in the sifted light of the afternoon sun. If she could only catch some of it, she thought, cache this moment in some pocket of her heart, she might be happy forever.

Beside her, Han shifted in his sleep, one arm reaching out unconsciously to entwine itself around her middle, and he nestled in closer, his breath warm and dancing in her hair. She turned to him, dropping her hand to trace soft curving paths down his arm. Here was a marvel as wondrous to her as any. She had hardly dared to hope a day like this would come, had fought tooth and nail against it for years, then even more fiercely for it in recent months. But until the past few days, she hadn't quite believed it could truly happen, that they could happen like this, that the future she'd gotten a glimpse of, what seemed like a lifetime ago, could actually become reality. That reality could be this happy, this good.

She studied the man lying beside her with fresh awe, letting her eyes graze over his chiseled frame (real, she thought again, this is real, and not a dream). Her gaze traveled slowly up to his chest, rising and falling in time with the fluttering in her hair, and she watched it for a moment, mesmerized, before carefully pulling back so she could see his face.

His hair was a mess, she noted with amusement. It was sticking up in places, with leaf bits strewn here and there, and a few locks falling tantalizingly over his face. "Scruffy" was the word, she decided, suppressing a giggle at the thought of Han's would-be reaction to that declaration. He didn't know yet that that's how she liked him best.

Her eyes roamed his face, examining each feature, each line with delight. Those straight, sculpted eyebrows — finally hers. That strong nose — hers, too. Those tantalizing lips, the little scar on his chin — also hers. As were the eyes that fluttered open to meet her own, all alight and green-gold glittering.

Han flashed her a lopsided grin. "Enjoying the view, Princess?" he teased. She blushed, then feeling mischievous, lifted her chin and shook her head.

"Of course not, Nerfherder. I was just counting the miserable minutes until you woke up."

"Impatient, huh?" he said, his grin growing wider, the mischief in his eyes matching her own. Then his voice dropped, sending a shiver down her spine. "Impatient for this?" he asked. Then rolling her onto her back, he attended to her neck, her jaw, her lips.

A few minutes later, they broke apart, but Han made no move to leave the embrace. For a moment they gazed tenderly at each other, and to Leia it seemed as if every wall, every fortification they had ever erected in a desperate effort to push away both pain and love, had been besieged and overthrown, crumbled to dust. Now here they were, staring soul to soul, deeply vulnerable and utterly blissful, and Leia hadn't imagined, not in her wildest dreams, how wholly wonderful and right it would be. A mist clouded her eyes, and she smiled softly, reaching up to trace the lines on his face. "If only…." she said, trailing off, feeling the sentiment inadequate. How could she have conquered those walls sooner? The gods only knew what they had both been up against, what journeys they had needed to undertake to come to this point. But still… he might never have come back from Jabba's palace. What would her ramparts have cost her then?

Han seemed to sense the shift in her thoughts, and his eyes pierced her own, wide and browner now and honest. "Leia," he spoke her name softly, then gave a slight shake of his head. "Sweetheart, don't. I know what you're thinkin', but all those 'if onlys' don't matter one bit anymore. We're here, now. Everything's all right, now, or else it's gonna be before long. Besides, I promise you," he added, eyes twinkling, "we're gonna make up for all that time we missed."

"Is that so?" Leia smiled, blinking back the threatening tears. The storm clouds of questions and regret were slowly retreating, now — he was right; there wasn't any use thinking about it that way. He had been rescued, they had survived, the Empire was finally being defeated, and so were their barriers; they had each other now, and they would from now on.

"You better believe it," Han replied with a smile, then bent down to kiss her once more.

Before she lost herself again to the tide of his touch, Leia thought to herself that maybe he was right about this too: Perhaps… in the end it would be more than enough. Maybe, just maybe, the agony of love's long journey might make the love that they'd found all the sweeter.

Right now, as they joined in the anthem of the jubilant world around them, hearts all alight, Leia was sure of it.