People moved hurriedly through the halls of the large rebel frigate, but in spite of all the commotion, Leia felt desperately alone. As she walked away from the medcenter where she'd been checked out and released with orders to get some rest, she wondered how she could possibly be able to sleep after so much had happened. Her mind raced frantically to make sense of all that had transpired in the past few hours, but all she was left with was a sort of numb confusion. Not since the destruction of Alderaan had she felt this empty, and then she'd been too focused on her own survival and the stolen plans to notice. She had also had both Han and Luke to help her through it. Now . . ..
She risked a backward glance toward the medcenter. Somewhere behind her, Luke was fighting his own battle against shock and the loss of his right hand. She couldn't be there with him, as his condition was too unstable at the moment; but, truth be told, she wasn't even sure she wanted to be there. The haunted look in his eyes had frightened her and told her that something in him had changed. He wasn't the same Luke she'd left back on Hoth, the one she needed right now to tell her that everything would be okay, that they'd get Han back no matter what. The man back there was as scarred, scared, and tortured as she was. And he hadn't even been told about Han yet.
Han.
The tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes, and she swallowed hard against them and the rising need to sob uncontrollably. Fighting against her emotions, and pushing back the thoughts of the man who had stirred them, she continued walking. She was a mess, she knew, and she assumed she probably looked as distraught as she felt. Ignoring the people rushing here and there in the hallways, not wanting to see their questioning glances or feel their concern for one of their most esteemed leaders, she quickened her pace and ducked into the first unoccupied room she could find. It was one of the small lounges that were often used as private conference rooms, and she quickly thumbed the light switch and threw herself into one of the chairs to release the torrent of emotion that swelled within her.
Drawing her knees to her chest, she allowed herself to ride the surge of various feelings and thoughts as they battled one another in the struggle for clarity in the midst of chaos. First and foremost were her tortured feelings toward Han. Why had she waited for so long before finally confessing her feelings? Why had she fought against them for so long? Why hadn't she been willing before now to admit to herself and to him that the feelings she'd fought to suppress for so long could only be described as love? And why had he been so ruthlessly taken from her at the very moment of understanding, when it was too late for them to share in the discovery? And why was she now left alone to deal with this mass of grief and guilt intermingled that was just as intense as the grief and guilt she felt over the loss of her family and friends? Why should she have to deal with these emotions again? Hadn't she suffered enough? How much more would it take before she could be happy again? How long would this damn war last?
Racked and choking with bitter tears, she wasn't aware of how much time had passed since she had entered the tiny room. She didn't even notice the sudden opening of the door or the figure that entered. It was not until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder that she realized she was no longer alone. Startled at the touch, she drew back and focused on the figure that had entered, and immediately winced.
"Go away, Lando," she spat, bitterly.
The former administrator of Cloud City crossed in front of her and knelt at her feet. "Leia, I can only say I'm sorry so many times," he pleaded.
"I don't want to hear it," came the sharp reply.
"Leia, please–"
"Do I have to tell you again to get out!" He was the last person she wanted to speak to, after all that he had done to create this mess. And he was the last person she wanted to see her in this state. She didn't want him knowing she was vulnerable, hurting, and falling apart at the seams. She didn't want him knowing anything. She avoided his gaze, hoping her refusal to even look at him would eventually drive him away. It worked.
Eyes downcast, Lando rose silently and headed toward the door. Before he palmed it open, he turned back and spoke quietly. "I just thought you should know that your friend is stabilized and he's asking for you." When this brought her head up to meet his gaze he continued. "And that Chewie and I are working on a rescue mission right now."
Leia gave a bitter snort. "A rescue mission, huh?"
"Yeah," Lando answered, ignoring her tone. "That bounty hunter is one I've run into before. Name's Boba Fett. Both Han and I have dealt with him once or twice. He's got no loyalties, no allies, and no religion but money. Since we know he'll work for whomever is paying the highest price, we can assume that he's on his way to Jabba the Hutt."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, that's so," he replied, and only then did a trace of hurt creep into his voice.
"And if he doesn't go to Jabba?"
"He'll go to Jabba, your highness. I know he will. Jabba's the only person in this galaxy who would put a price tag on Han high enough to get Boba Fett involved."
Leia shook her head. "You're forgetting that it was Vader who got the bounty hunters involved."
"Only to capture your friend, there," Lando countered, gesturing toward the door.
"And you practically hand delivered them both!" Leia shot back, rising to her feet.
With a sigh, Lando bit back his own rising temper and raised his hands placatingly. "I didn't come here to argue, Leia. I came here to deliver a message and to let you know what Chewie and I are planning to do. And since the Wookie has already accepted that I had no choice in this whole thing, I kinda' hoped that you had accepted it too. But now I see that you can't or won't, and frankly I don't care anymore." Leia opened her mouth to speak, but Lando continued, "You just go on and do whatever it is you have to do, Leia. But I'm going to go rescue my friend."
"Your friend?" Leia all but screamed. "Is that how you treat your friends, Lando? Handing them over to be tortured and carbon frozen by the Empire? And then shipped off to some crime lord?"
"I'm not going to stand here and defend myself before you, Princess," Lando countered, struggling to remain calm in the face of her accusations. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a mission to see to."
With that, he spun on his heel and headed out the door, his cape billowing behind him.
Left alone, Leia suddenly felt a surge of guilt and loneliness crash down on her, and she rushed to the door. Skidding into the hall, she frantically scanned for Lando's retreating form, and quickly found it. "Lando, wait!" she called.
The man turned at the sound of her voice and gave her a look that spoke of limits to his patience.
Leia sprinted toward him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you just want to help. It's just that–" Her voice trailed off as she choked back on a sob that seemed to have suddenly lodged in her throat.
With a surprising swiftness combined with unexpected compassion, Lando quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into the tiny conference room, out of sight from the rest of the rebels. "Didn't want all those military guys to see you break down out there," he explained softly when she fixed him with a questioning gaze.
A bashful blush appeared on her face as she murmured, "Thank you." She sank back into her chair and sighed. "This hasn't been one of my better days."
Lando knelt at her side once more and took her pale hands in his. Looking into her eyes, he forced himself to be sincere instead of charming. "Look, Leia, it hasn't been one of my better days either. But it will get better. And I will make it up to you. To you and to everyone else. Especially Han." He glanced down for a moment and tried to smile away his own guilt, but it remained a burning in his chest even as he joked, "He's really going to make me pay for this when he wakes up."
For a moment, Leia felt immense sympathy for the man at her feet. She knew he wasn't to be held entirely accountable for what had happened. And she knew that he was probably punishing himself as much as anyone else could. She lifted her hand to his face and brought his chin up so that his brown eyes could not help but stare into hers. She didn't smile, but she spoke softly, "Well, Chewie hasn't pulled your arms off yet, so there's something to be said about your chances with Han."
"You have a point there," Lando replied, letting some of his charm sneak back in for a bit. Then he stood, pulling Leia up with him and drawing her into a hug, which she willingly accepted and returned.
After a moment during which both relished in the fact that neither of them was truly alone after all, Lando pulled out of the embrace and suggested, "Shouldn't we go check in with your friend in sick bay?"
Leia nodded. "Yes, I think we should."
Becoming the charming administrator once more, he offered his arm to her. "Allow me to escort you, Your Highness."
She took his proffered arm and smiled for the first time since the events on Bespin. "Gladly."
Chewbacca was standing just outside the private room assigned to Luke when Leia and Lando approached. Leia noted his approving nod at seeing them arm in arm, and she smiled back at him. If the Wookie with a life-debt to Han had accepted Lando as an ally, why couldn't she?
Chewie growled a question that Leia had to struggle to comprehend.
Lando replied first. "Yes, Chewie. The Princess and I have made our peace."
"But don't think he didn't have to fight for it," Leia found herself adding with a grin.
With a chuckle, the Wookie crossed over to them both and pulled them into a warm, furry embrace. At the gesture, Leia inexplicably felt tears returning to her eyes, and she struggled to blink them away while her face was still buried in his fur. Obviously, her emotional control was still quite fragile, for the tighter she hugged the Wookie, the more desperately she wanted to cry. Already, tears had begun streaming down her face in spite of her efforts to quell them. Hadn't she already cried enough? How could she possibly have any tears left?
As though sensing her sudden wave of emotion, Chewie began to stroke the top of her head as Lando gave her shoulders a tight squeeze. Unaccustomed to such emotional vulnerability and the sympathetic response it evoked from her companions, Leia began to laugh self-consciously. Trying to wipe away the tears that continued to flow in spite of the laughter, she pulled away and sheepishly murmured, "Thank you."
Chewie's reply was echoed shortly by Lando. "Don't mention it."
The three remained staring at each other as Leia continued to brush away the tears that had finally begun to ebb. Reaching into his pocket, Lando pulled out a silken handkerchief and silently offered it to her. She accepted it without a word, and gently dabbed away the remaining traces of tears. When she was finished, she turned to them both and presented her most regal look.
She took a deep breath and asked, "Now tell me, how obvious is it that I've been crying?"
"Do you want the truth, Leia?" Lando asked with arched brows.
Leia's shoulders sagged imperceptibly as she sighed. "That bad, huh?"
"I'm sure he won't notice."
Leia shook her head. "I can't face him like this, Lando. If Luke sees that I've been crying, he'll know. And I don't know how much he can take right now. I don't even know what he's been through."
Lando rested a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Leia. I don't know him like you do, but if he's as good a friend to Han as I think he is, don't you think he'd want to know anyway?"
Nodding stiffly, Leia replied, "Yes, he would."
"Then get in there," Lando countered with a slight nudge. "Your Highness," he added with a wink.
"Here goes nothing." Bracing herself for whatever she was about to encounter, she took one last reassuring look at Lando and Chewie before passing through the doorway just behind them.
She entered the room, and her eyes fell on Luke immediately. The young man was sitting on the bed in the center of the room, propped up against a pillow and staring absently toward the large window at the other end of the room. His left hand rested upon the blanket that was draped across the lower half of his body, while his right arm was buried beneath the blanket, purposely hidden from view. As she approached him, he seemed completely unaware of her presence. Uncertain of how to proceed, she glanced over at the 2-IB medical droid that stood in the corner monitoring his vital signs. With a gesture, the droid urged her toward the bed. Cautiously, she moved further into the room.
Luke still had not registered her presence in the room by the time she had approached his side, and this disturbed her. She wasn't used to him being this preoccupied. Usually, he was aware of her before she'd even entered a room. Perhaps he was mildly sedated; in which case she'd have to speak to him first. Swallowing in a dry throat, she sought to find her voice, although it seemed to have abandoned her completely. Mentally kicking herself, she wondered why she was suddenly finding it so hard to speak to the man she had come to know as one of her closest and dearest friends. She was a diplomat, after all, and had been trained to speak under the direst of circumstances. Somehow, though, nothing had prepared her for this.
Summoning up her courage, she finally managed to whisper, "Luke?"
With an abruptness that caused her to jump, Luke's head jerked toward her in response to her voice. In that brief moment, she was sure she saw absolute terror etched across his features before he recognized that the voice that had spoken his name had been hers. In an instant, the terror was replaced by blank mask, followed by a strained smile. The haunted look remained in his eyes, however.
"Leia! You're all right!" he exclaimed, although the relieved tone in his voice seemed oddly detached from the rest of him. He reached out his left hand and clasped hers, holding it tightly. "You're all right."
"Yes, Luke," she answered, staring down at his hand. It was as cold as ice, and had it not been squeezing hers so tightly, she would have sworn it was as lifeless as wax. She felt none of the connection that had always flowed between them like a wave of warmth when they touched. Instead, it seemed she held the hand of a man whose very soul had been ripped from his body, leaving only a shell that remained. She shivered. She wanted--needed--to leave. To escape from this room that had suddenly grown so cold. She found herself wondering what she'd done to warrant both men in her life being somehow "frozen."
Silence followed, during which Leia could only stare at their interlocked hands, unable to meet his gaze. Her mind was frantically searching for a diplomatic way of excusing herself, and she felt guilty for it. But she was far too emotionally fragile right now to handle the situation. This was not the Luke she knew. This was not the man she needed right now. And she didn't know if she could face this battered stranger who now took his place.
"Leia?"
Instinctively, Leia looked up at the sound of his plaintive voice, immediately wishing she hadn't. Looking into Luke's eyes, she knew he'd been studying her face for the past few moments and had seen the traces of tears she'd been unable to hide. It was obvious that his mind had been racing in search of an explanation for those tears during her silence.
"Leia, where's Han?" he asked, concern etched across his face.
As prepared as she was for this question, it was a few seconds before Leia could respond. She hadn't expected him to ask this quickly. The now familiar lump that appeared in her throat at every mention of Han's name had returned, and she needed time to swallow it back down before she could speak again. As she fought for control, she saw in Luke's gaze that he already had a good idea of what she was about to say. But as much as he didn't want to hear it, and as much as she didn't want to say it, the truth needed to be spoken.
"On his way to Jabba," she finally managed to say.
Luke was silent for a moment before he quietly asked, "Is he alive?"
As she looked at him, Leia wondered if Luke had known about the carbon-freezing chamber and what had taken place there. After all, hadn't Vader intended it to be used on him in the first place, with Han only serving as the test subject? At this thought, she unexpectedly felt a surge of anger, and was surprised at its target. She didn't want to feel angry with Luke, but she did, and she didn't know why. It wasn't his fault that Vader had used both her and Han as bait to lure him to Cloud City, and she knew it. It wasn't his fault that Vader had decided to use Han to test Bespin's commercial machinery after discovering that it could be potentially deadly to humans. And it wasn't his fault that they'd arrived on the landing pad a few seconds too late to stop the bounty hunter from leaving with his "cargo." Yet, she was furious that it was Han who'd been frozen and taken away, while Luke had managed to survive and return.
Awash with guilt at her irrational feelings, she tried vainly to push them away and concentrate on communicating with Luke. After all, she cared about Luke. She'd risked the Falcon to get him back after their initial escape from Cloud City. The last thing she wanted was for something terrible to happen to him.
But something terrible had happened to him. He'd faced Vader and lost his right hand. He'd been beaten, physically and emotionally. He needed her now. He needed her to be there for him. Knowing this, she wished the anger would fade; but it didn't.
"He's carbon frozen," she replied at last, though she was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "So you might say he's alive, but barely."
It was the stricken look that now appeared on Luke's face that accomplished what she had been unable to do on her own. Her anger and bitterness vanished as she saw the anguish and self-loathing Luke fought to conceal without success.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Leia."
Leia winced at his words. He was apologizing for something for which he wasn't even responsible. Suddenly she found herself wondering how she could have even considered blaming him. "Don't be," she soothed.
She felt him release her hand as he turned away to stare back at the window. So low was his voice that she nearly missed the next words he spoke. "It's all my fault."
"No, Luke," she found herself saying, "it's not. Don't say that." Although she said it as much to herself as to him, she reached for his hand once more in reassurance.
He flinched at her attempted touch, and pulled away. "I should have died back there."
The words were spoken so earnestly, Leia didn't know what to do or say in response. He'd pulled away from her and retreated into himself, and now Leia felt somewhat responsible. Had her own feelings of blame and resentment been communicated that clearly to him? Had she just hurt him further when he needed comfort? Did he really wish death upon himself? He couldn't possibly be thinking that way. Could he?
She glanced back at the door, feeling her heart breaking. She'd known outside that she wasn't ready for this. She was too fragile herself to deal with the battered young man in front of her. She was in desperate need of support, so how could she possibly be strong enough to support them both? She wanted to run back outside. She wanted to bury herself in the embrace of the Wookie who waited there. She wanted to escape from this torment and grieve the way she'd never allowed herself to grieve before. She wanted to forget she was an Alliance leader, a princess, and a fighter, and just feel sorry for herself for a while.
She turned back toward Luke. It was meant to be a parting gaze before leaving, but she suddenly realized that she couldn't do any of those things.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the slight tremble in his shoulders and the glistening trail of tears that worked their way down his cheeks. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. He was crying. Luke Skywalker never cried; it just didn't happen. Oh, he'd whine at times. And laugh. And yell when he was angry. Leia recalled the young, naïve farm boy who wore his heart on his sleeve and shared his feelings without a second thought. But she couldn't recall him ever shedding a tear. Not when General Kenobi had died. Not when his friend Biggs had perished over the Death Star. Not when Commander Narra had been lost just before Hoth. She seemed to remember him saying something about not being able to cry. About the negative views toward tears that one grew up with on a desert planet. He said he'd cried once or twice, but since it was seen as wasting precious water, it was extremely uncommon. He'd said it was something she'd probably never catch him doing, even if she tried. She remembered she'd laughed at that, and promised that she'd catch him someday.
Now she wished she hadn't. She hadn't realized it would hurt so much.
Moving quickly, she rounded the bed and placed herself between his gaze and the window, cupping his face in her hands. "Luke, don't," she pleaded, staring into his tearful eyes. He tried to pull away, using his one good hand to pry hers from his face, but she refused to let go. "Please, don't cry, Luke."
She felt her own eyes begin to burn and ache with the strain of unshed tears, and she again wondered when it would stop.
Upon seeing her glistening eyes staring into his, the last of Luke's control broke and his silent whimpering turned into anguished sobs that shook his whole body. "I'm so sorry, Leia," he choked. "It's my fault. My fault."
"No, Luke," she said again, still holding his face in her hands. She couldn't let him believe this. Not when it was hurting him so much. She couldn't let him go.
"It was me he wanted," he continued. "Leia, it was me."
"I know."
"Why?" He squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to sob uncontrollably. "Why?"
She wasn't sure what he was asking. Was he questioning the motives behind Vader's quest for him? Was it the reasoning behind using Han? Or worse, was it his own survival? She shuddered. Or was it something else? Struggling to form an answer, she realized it didn't matter. She didn't have the answers anyway.
"I don't know," she told him, honestly. Removing her hands from his face, she slid them down to his shoulders and pulled him close, allowing him, literally, a shoulder to cry on. She was relieved when he accepted it. Stroking his hair, she continued to hold him as her mind sought to find some source of comfort. It was hard to know where to look with so many questions unanswered. What had Vader done to him back there besides taking his hand? What was the cause of the scarred look in his eyes and the terror etched into his now prematurely aged features? What had he suffered that had brought him to this emotional brink? And why had the Sith Lord pursued him so fanatically in the first place?
"Leia?" Luke's voice croaked between sobs.
"What is it, Luke?"
"I need you to do something for me."
She froze, fearful of the request he might make in his current emotional state. She answered cautiously, "What do you want me to do?"
Although he was still crying, his voice grew more resolved as he spoke. "I need you to give my resignation to General Reikan."
Startled at the unexpected request, Leia drew back a moment to study him. "What?"
She noted his pained expression as he explained, "I'm a threat to the Alliance, Leia. I need to get out . . . to get away."
"Luke, no!" she exclaimed. "We need you!"
"Leia, please," he pleaded, and she could see how painful this was for him. "You don't understand! I can't stay!"
Sensing his desperation, she fought against it. She wouldn't let him go. Not now. "No, Luke. I need you!"
"I can't!" he cried. His sobs came even harder as he shook his head. "I can't!" He started to push her away as though trying to physically make his point. "Don't you see? I'm alive, and he's still out there, after me! I can't stay! I have to leave, or surrender, . . .or die!"
"No," Leia argued, as she fought even harder to hold onto him. She wasn't about to let him do this. She wasn't going to let him leave her, no matter which route he chose. "I won't let you go."
Luke stopped fighting and sank back against his pillows in despair, struggling to breathe in the midst of overwhelming emotion. "And I can't just stand by and let him take away every single person I care about one by one!" He paused, "I can't let him take you, too."
She stopped and stared, stunned. She knew he was talking about Vader. And she knew he was referring to all the people in his life that Vader had managed to have killed and captured. His father, his aunt and uncle, General Kenobi, Biggs Darklighter. And now, Han. Was he really afraid that she would be next?
Shivering, she realized how close she'd come to being Vader's prisoner again. If it hadn't been for Lando . . .
Leia could not deny that Luke's fears were real. Lando had revealed as much in letting them know that Vader was after Luke specifically. And she could only imagine what had transpired between Luke and the Sith Lord on Bespin. It was a very real possibility that Vader's pursuit of Luke could only intensify. As a leader of the Alliance, she understood the jeopardy Luke's presence could place them in.
And yet, she couldn't bear to lose him.
Clasping his good hand in hers, she spoke. "Luke, I won't let him take me. And I'm not about to let him drive you away from me." As she continued, her voice caught in her throat. "You're all I have left, Luke. Please, don't leave me. I need you."
Red-rimmed blue eyes stared back at her in disbelief. And her delicate control shattered.
"Luke, please," she sobbed. "You're dearer to me than words can say! I need you! I don't care what Vader wants from you or what he'll do to get it! I don't want you to leave me! Please, Luke." She gasped for air, struggling to say the words she knew needed to be spoken. "I've already lost one of the two men I love most in this universe! Don't make me lose another!"
She watched as he struggled with what she'd just said, fighting against the flood of emotions that surged within him in response to her words. For several moments, she thought his despair would win over her tearful declaration. Then, without seeming to care about his missing hand and the awkwardness it caused, he pulled her toward him and threw both arms around her in a tight embrace. "I need you, too, Leia," he whispered in her ear.
She held onto him as tightly as she could, luxuriating in the feeling of being needed and being cared for even as she needed him so much in return.
"Leia," he breathed, his voice hitched with emotion, "I never want to hurt you. I could never put you in danger. I'm just so scared. Scared of what could happen. Scared of what I might do."
Leia had no words to say. She could only hold him and hope that her reassurance through their embrace would ease his fears. She knew he would never hurt her. She trusted him with her life. She loved him.
Instantly, a sense of clarity washed over her. For the first time since she'd met the two men in "borrowed" stormtrooper uniforms who had rescued her from the Death Star, she knew how she felt about each. Luke was like a part of her own soul, the truest friend one could ever find. He was her anchor, her confidant, and, in a way, her surrogate family. Han, on the other hand, was her passion. He was the flame that drew her to him like a beacon she couldn't ignore. He was the man she wanted to tease, romance, and kiss goodnight at the end of the evening. With him, she was in love as much as she loved.
Still holding onto Luke, she sighed. Why hadn't she realized all of this sooner?
They held each other for some time before Luke finally pulled away. His blue eyes stared into hers with an expression of gratitude that left her speechless. Swallowing hard, he murmured, "I love you, Leia."
Her heart stopped as she sought to read in his eyes the meaning of his words. To her relief, it was not hard to find.
"I'll find Han for you," he said, earnestly. "I promise you. I'll do everything I can to bring him back to you."
Leia smiled then, knowing he meant every word that he said. She wondered how long he'd known about her feelings. Considering it was Luke, he'd probably recognized her feelings for Han before she did. Cupping his face in her hands once more and gazing at his exhausted features, she spoke, "Just focus on healing right now, Luke. That's all I want you to do."
He smiled and brushed away his drying tears with his left arm. "I'll try," he conceded, sinking back onto his pillows. It was clear that he was extremely tired and drained, and Leia felt that he desperately needed to rest. As he lay back down, she suddenly took notice of his wounded arm. A thin white bandage was wrapped around the stump of his wrist, but nothing more. Luke caught her gaze and stared down at it as well. "At least the arm still works well enough to give you a hug," he remarked weakly.
"Does it hurt?"
To her disappointment, Luke nodded wearily. "The bandage contains a mild analgesic, but they keep injecting me with something that will keep the nerves from deadening. And that hurts a lot. But it's so they can attach some sort of bionic hand to the nerve endings."
Leia was concerned about the dispassionate way in which he spoke, but she didn't reveal her worry. "Sounds good."
Luke shrugged. "Well, a one-handed pilot isn't really any good to anybody."
She smiled, brushing a lock of his blond hair away from his eyes. "Does that mean I don't have to talk to Reikan?"
Luke's tired expression revealed nothing, and it was several seconds of tension for Leia before he answered. "I've already given my word, Leia. I promise I'll stick around until we get Han back. No matter how long it takes."
Relieved, Leia breathed, "Thank you." Deciding it was time to let him rest, she rose and gave his good hand a pat. "Since you're sticking around for a while, I'd better let you rest."
Luke smiled up at her. "You look like you need your rest, too."
A hint of the old Luke peered up at her through his smile, and she agreed easily. "So why don't we both get our rest, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Great," Luke replied tiredly. "You can watch them attach my new hand."
Leia winced. "Sounds lovely." She turned toward the door and called over her shoulder, "See you tomorrow Luke."
"Wait," he called out to her as she was about to palm the door panel. Puzzled she spun around to see what it was she had to say.
"What is it, Luke?"
Staring down at his sheets, Luke replied seriously, "There's just something I have to tell you before you go. And it's about you and Han." He paused a moment before looking back up at her with a slight smile. "It's about time," he said. Then his smile grew into a grin. Without another word, he winked at her and closed his eyes.
Leia shook her head. Was this the same man who'd been sobbing in her arms just a few moments ago? She felt the urge to laugh as she realized the answer. Of course it was. His puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks proved that. But Luke was one of the most resilient people she knew.
And Han was the other.
As she left the medcenter to join the two companions who were outside waiting for her, Leia began to feel the first stirrings of hope since she'd watched the departure of Slave I. Time had a way of making things work out. Leia was beginning to see that now.