The Melancholy of Home

by Amy L. Hull

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Thanks to Roane and BlueMorpho for their betas!

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The door to her quarters was stuck. Again.

Leia kicked it like Han would the Falcon. It scraped, metal whining against metal in the track, then thunked closed. She glowered and kicked it again.

She leaned against the entry table, both hands balled into fists. On her short walk from her office to the building where her quarters were located, she'd bumped into half a dozen passersby, all talking about the fall of the Empire. Some were thrilled, some were furious, some grumbled or crowed about the effect on their businesses, some fretted about the unknown...their voices and thoughts pressed at her from all sides.

Here, in her quarters, she let her shoulders slump.

It had been five years since she'd lived in an apartment like this. Then she'd been a junior senator. A baby senator, really.

A lifetime ago, her parents had travelled with her to Coruscant. Her mother had seen to her schedule and support staff while her father helped her arrange the few decorations she had brought.

Leia set her key card in the small bowl on the table and stroked the bowl's greens and blues. The glaze was cool and smooth under her fingertips. These colors were home: trees and mountains swirled together with flecks of warmer colors showing a rich, floral landscape.

The colors were as mixed as the fragments of her planet had been in the depths of space. Somehow this trinket had survived the moves, the narrow escapes, the destruction. She swallowed hard and moved to the sitting area.

Five years ago, she'd rolled her eyes at her father's review of Coruscanti etiquette, of Senate rules, tutoring her as if she hadn't been shadowing him for years before her own election. He'd kissed her forehead, and she'd melted into his chest as he whispered his pride into her pile of elegant Alderaanian braids.

They'd left for Alderaan, and she'd spoken to them regularly during her short stint in the Senate. Then she took her first real mission for the Rebellion.

Then Alderaan was gone.

She returned to Coruscant after the Emperor's death, after the Battle of Endor. The Rebellion had won, and she was part of the team building the New Republic government in the chambers where she'd first served.

Coruscant seemed entirely the same, and she felt completely different.

Han and Luke were her family now, and they were in and out, still putting out the fires of the dying vestiges of the Empire. Her parents weren't there to fuss around her. Her father would never see the success of the insurrection he helped start. All too often, she returned home to empty rooms, and her chest and their victory felt empty as well.

She swiped at her cheek, swallowed the lump in her throat, inhaled past the weight on her chest, blew the air out, pushed herself away from the table.

There were muffled footsteps above, distant conversations on all sides, and holos playing everywhere.

Wind was audible on the 44th floor no matter how good the noise baffling.

Speeders and hovercars whizzed outside window. Occasionally their drivers' shouts or beeps or poorly calibrated engines were audible.

Activity hummed around her, all hours of the day, every day of the week.

There was no quiet.

Leia scoffed at the thought. Five years in makeshift bases had accustomed her to bustle at all hours. This should be no different.

But there was no peace in this peace.

Sleep brought little rest as her mind spent the night scouting out relocation options, packing her belongings, facilitating supplies and troop quarters and duty rosters. She awakened, as she had every morning for over five years, assessing her surroundings, listening for the unexpected, ready to spring into action.

There was no action demanding her attention. Her schedule merely involved hours of research and reading on Republic Parliamentary Procedure and Intergalactic Cross-Species Diplomacy in preparation for offering suggestions regarding fair and balanced justice system regulations.

Her ridiculously large bed-twice the size of the bunk she and Han shared on the Falcon-was smooth on Han's side. The duvet and pillow were plush and soft. Tasteful artwork-some salvaged from the remains of the Alderaanian embassy-graced two walls. Another held a gilded mirror.

Everything except the gilding was incongruous with how she felt and who she was. She had no soft edges, no tastefully-drawn facade. She was hard. The give of the carpet under her feet mocked her.

She hesitated only a moment before treating herself to a real hot water shower in the 'fresher, reminding herself that it wasn't a waste of resources, that they were no longer on careful rations.

She lived in this empty space, enormous compared to any of her Rebellion quarters, but it was not home.

So many others, they were settling down, relishing life without war, without being always on the run.

Leia had never been settled, not in her adult life. Settled and comfortable, that was the life she'd had as a child.

She felt like a child, pampered, every need and whim cared for. She felt childish in her discomfort and dissatisfaction with it.

They had won. The Empire and Emperor were dead. They were building what she'd spent her whole life wishing for, working for, preparing for. This dissatisfaction or...melancholy was foolish.

She kicked her door again and it opened with less complaint. You have to show 'em who's boss, Han always said.

That made her smile.

The fledgling government had offered to send a car for her, but Leia had insisted she preferred to walk, to get a feel for the environment.

She hadn't told them she was evaluating the area, the hiding places, the strongholds, the tactical positions. She knew every sidewalk, every alley, every inset door that would provide cover between her building and the Senate offices. She knew where she would direct civilians if, in spite of it all, an insurgency broke out. She knew where she would make her stand in the case of attack from any direction, including above.

She didn't know how to keep passersby from knocking her off-kilter as they bumped into her shoulder or edged past her if their longer legs carried them faster.

It had been five years since anyone had failed to give her path deference...and even then, she'd experienced it only here, only in those few months of her doomed term as Senator.

Certainly she wasn't so egotistical to be out of sorts because no one was treating her like a princess. She rolled her eyes at herself before palming her way into her office.

When her assistant buzzed her, she was nibbling a protein bar she'd tucked in a pocket on her way out this morning. She sipped her tea, washing down crumbs. She started to answer when her door opened.

"Surprised to see me, sweetheart?"

Leia felt her shoulders relax-she hadn't even realized she was hunching them-and a warmth filled her belly and chest.

Han came around her desk and she stood to kiss him.

"I thought you'd be at least another week," she said, leaning against him.

"Well, a little twin told me you were having a hard time."

She frowned at him, indignation cooling her initial response.

Han placed a finger on her lips. "That, and we were done. The Seswenna and Moddell Sectors, and the worlds in between, caught wind of the Emperor's death. They'd already imprisoned-or killed-their Moffs and were eager not only to pledge loyalty to the New Republic, but had organized soldiers to send out to help us quell remaining Imperial cells."

"That...that's…" Leia couldn't remember the last time she was at a loss for words. "But...we tried a dozen times to recruit them into the Rebelli-"

"Not everyone's as willing as I am to fight for a lost cause, Princess."

She swatted at his chest, then hopped up to sit on her desk to kiss him more easily.

He nuzzled her cheek, then along her jawline back to her ear. Her breath caught, and she gripped at him, one handful of his vest, one of his his hair.

"If we stay here, we're going to mess up all your piles of flimsies or accidentally delete your datapad settings." He sucked lightly at her neck for a moment. "Again."

She tugged at his shirttail and ran her fingers along the bare skin of his back. He nipped harder. "Han, I can't just leave because you came home early. I have work to do."

"And everyone else in the building closed up two hours ago. What time do you think it is?"

"About fifteen?"

"Try half past nineteen. I tried home first. Shoulda known better." He stood up.

She hopped down. "I could pick up here tomorrow-"

Han frowned at her. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Yes-"

"Other than this?" He held up the half-finished protein bar.

She thought for a moment. "No. That was my lunch."

"Well, it's dinner now."

"Then it's a good thing you're back. You can cook. I'll just tidy this away." She stacked her notes, squared off the items on her desk, and put an arm around his waist, tilting her head against his shoulder for a moment. It was frightening, to have her sense of contentment so dependent on another being.

Han tipped her chin up and kissed her once more. "It's all right to miss me, Leia," he said softly.

"What were you doing in the Outer Rim? Taking Force lessons from Luke?"

Han rolled his eyes as they headed for the door. "I still think that's a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. And I'm not cooking this late. We're going out for food."

"Let's take the food home," she suggested, running fingers along his side and holding the hand that was draped over her shoulder.

He shuddered and squeezed her hand tighter. She loved that she had this effect on him. It evened the field between them, since he had the same hold over her.

The deep sense of peace she'd despaired of the night before...it hadn't been elusive because of the war or her. She'd been lonely, she realized. Surrounded by so many people and, for the first time in five years, almost none of them knew her or called her by name. The anonymity was a relief, but without family, without the people who'd fought for and with and beside her, that was what made the wider world so empty.

As they strolled home, people bumped into them, but it didn't irritate her now. She relaxed against Han. Han who slowed his long stride so she didn't have to scurry. Han who would never settle down and stay in one place forever, and whom she would never ask to do so. Han who was steady, reliable, for all his posturing otherwise. Han who would always come back.

They bought dumplings and spiceloaf from a street vendor near the apartment building and the smell filled the lift as they ascended.

They approached her-their-apartment and the door didn't slide immediately open.

Han kissed her once more, then kicked the door. "Gotta show these things who's boss sometimes," he muttered.

Leia laughed and tugged him across the threshold.

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end

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