a/n: i don't have an excuse for this. it's actually ... kind of in the same vein as 'Auditory Mistakes.' in other words, don't take it seriously.
Spoils
The Victory over Endor was sure to go down in Galactic History, but for Han Solo it was the morning after that would forever be his most famous – or infamous, depending on if you asked him, or Carlist Rieekan.
It all started sometime after noon – the day had begun with a euphoric sense of hope; the whole of the Alliance had landed on the forest moon for the victory party, and spent what was probably the first truly peaceful night's sleep in a long time among the cozy cabins of the natives. Despite being offered a tree house, Han had stuck with sleeping on the Falcon – Lando had brought it back as unscathed as possible, and a certain smuggler-turned-general had suffered separation anxiety.
Not to mention the Falcon offered much more privacy than breezy, open-air tree huts. Success against the Empire had done wonders for Leia's inhibitions, resulting in a very good night for Han – and for her as well, if how well she'd been sleeping had anything to say for it – but it was just that deep, uncharacteristically lengthy sleep that had gotten him vaguely into trouble.
Vaguely, because he wasn't sure Rieekan was actually too pissed about the whole thing just…shocked.
It was Chewbacca's fault, really; Han had been up early, out helping Luke and with something in the woods – a burial that they were both positive Leia wanted nothing to do with, and Han point-blank insisted they not tell her about it – though Han himself had wanted to see the caped bastard reduced to ash. Helping Luke dispose of the ashes and charred metal was satisfying, somehow.
He hadn't had the heart to wake Leia and tell her he'd be back; she looked so at peace, so restful; he'd just placed a kiss on her temple and left her there in his cabin, keeping the lights dim and the atmosphere controls on warm. He hadn't though anything of it – Leia spent a lot of time in his cabin these days. His mistake was forgetting to tell Chewie she was still there; the Wookiee would naturally assume she was up and about – she was an early riser – and besides, missing Kashyyyk, he had slept in a tree overnight.
So when Rieekan, completing a sweep of rebel ships and rebel personnel, had stopped by the Falcon, Chewbacca had welcomed him on with ease, carrying on a limited chat. Rieekan was only capable of understanding the gist of Shyriiwook, but he liked the Wookiee. He also had a healthy, if usually suppressed, appreciation of the Falcon's moderations, and he'd taken the liberty of walking around to admire them. Han was on the ramp, returning from the trip with Luke, when he heard the Alderaanian general's voice mixing with the Wookiee rumble.
"…modifications in the cabin, since the two of you live here? Can't be just a bare bones freighter…"
Han paused, his brow furrowing. He recognized Rieekan – Chewie answered something about Han reconfiguring things to make sure they each had their own bunk; turning the crew cabin into a small hammock room, and giving himself a private room –
Private room.
"…mind if I take a look…"
Han strode up the rest of the ramp at light speed, a slight panic gripping him. He almost ran down the hall, calling out Chewie's name sharply, but he was too late; Chewbacca eyed him curiously as he came into the crew bunk, and Rieekan was already snooping around the area, stepping into Han's cabin.
Han crossed the cabin and missed grabbing him by just an inch; he swore.
"Good to see you, Solo," Rieekan said, flipping on the light nonchalantly. "I wanted to see about these modifications I always hear about – "
Rieekan paused, noticing that Solo's cabin wasn't empty – in fact, a woman who had clearly made herself at home in the middle of the bed occupied it. Tangled sheets surrounded her, and barely covered the important parts. The general raised his eyebrows and turned around, giving Han a bit of a smirk – man-to-man.
"Hell, Solo, Chewie didn't tell me you had company," he snorted. "Guess we all deserve a little spoils of victory after all this, eh?"
Han, staring at him, said nothing – he wasn't startled that Rieekan had said something so completely male and suggestive, but he was incredibly sure that the other man wouldn't have said it if he knew who he was talking about.
Chewbacca roared suddenly, distressed.
[Han, I didn't realize she was here!]
It was his roaring that really caused the problem, though, because it woke her up – and right about the exact time that Rieekan got a look on in his eye that indicated he'd figured out there weren't really any available women around for Solo to be hooking up with other than –
Rieekan turned around to find himself staring at a drowsy, disheveled and suddenly quite awake, Princess.
Han had never seen a smile disappear from anyone's face as fast as it evaporated from Carlist Rieekan's.
He took a full step back, smacking his hand out against the wall as if to keep from literally falling in a dead faint to the floor.
"Carlist?" Leia gasped, the same shock registering on her face as she clutched sheets to her chest – and she was only speechless for a moment before her gaze snapped away from the general and –
"Han!" she cried – shrieked really. "What are you doing?" she demanded, drawing back and trying to make herself look small.
Han gave her a helpless look – he tried to smirk charmingly, but he was really having trouble believing what he'd just walked into – and even though he was pretty sure the whole Alliance had their suspicions about this, he hadn't necessarily intended to announce it to the person Leia basically considered a surrogate father.
She was looking at him like he'd completely lost his mind, and Chewie started roaring earnestly – claiming it was his fault – and Leia yelled over him, drawing her knees up more tightly.
"I'm not an exhibit, you half-witted – "
[I didn't know you were in here! I let him in, it's my fault - ]
"Come on, Leia, I wouldn't – Sweetheart – " he winced, and broke off – not the best choice of words.
It was Rieekan who put a stop to the cacophony – by giving a sharp, piercing whistle through two of his fingers. He faced Han, his eyes trained determinedly on the smuggler's face. His neck was red with a blush, and he was clearly exercising extreme care to avoid looking at Leia again.
"I'm at fault here for snooping," he said carefully, giving a curt nod.
Han tried to look sheepish – but he really, really couldn't help grinning; what did he have to be ashamed about? He didn't know what he was supposed to do or say – should he apologize?
"I can't say I'm surprised," Rieekan said bluntly.
"Carlist, I," Leia began in a squeak.
He didn't look at her, but his lips turned up in a small smile.
"No need for explanations, Your Highness," he said lightly. "As I said, we've all earned our spoils." He paused for a moment. "I apologize for that earlier remark," he added, slightly hasty.
Leia made a strangled noise that might have been a diplomatic acceptance of his apology, if she wasn't so clearly astounded to find herself in this – ridiculous situation.
Han arched an eyebrow.
"You want to get out, General?" he asked wryly.
Rieekan cleared his throat and nodded, ducking past Han, and heading towards Chewbacca's beckoning paw; he paused for a glance back, and straightened is shoulders.
"I suppose I don't have to tell you that there are many people who will kill you if you mess this up," he said mildly. "Including myself."
Han raised two fingers to his head in a salute and, watching Chewbacca leave with the sufficiently mollified Rieekan, stepped fully into the cabin and slammed the door loudly before he strolled across the room. He sat down on the bed and leaned in to kiss Leia before she could start running her mouth.
She spoke into his lips all the same.
"…kind of … bragging rights…scoundrel…I…mmm," she mumbled incoherently, sliding her arms around his neck.
He pulled back slightly, nudging her nose with his.
"I had nothin' to do with that, Your Worship," he swore huskily. "Take it up with Chewbacca."
Her soft eyes berated him; her cheeks flushed. He shrugged.
"He knew, Leia," he said. "Everyone knows," he murmured.
"Knowing is different than seeing me scantily clad in your bed!"
"It's a good sight," Han growled.
He pressed his lips to hers, and pushed her backwards gently, tugging at the sheet between them – she placed her hand on his neck, holding his head away from her slightly.
"'Least he took it okay," Han said smugly.
Leia sighed, half-content and half troubled. She turned her eyes away a moment, and then she looked back at him – and started to laugh; she started to laugh loudly. Taken aback, he grinned at her brightly – he rarely heard her laugh like that, like there was nothing in the world wrong.
"Han, the look on his face," she gasped, running her fingers through his hair.
He nodded, pressing his lips to hers again – he was glad Rieekan had been at ease with the idea, because he imagined there was a scenario when he might have been court martialed for involving himself with her without permission from the higher ups.
She tugged on his hair in a playful reprimand.
"You blame Chewie," she whispered. "But you liked that," she accused.
"Nah," he retorted. "If I wanted to brag, I'd have brought Antilles in here."
Wedge would have repeated the story like his life depended on it; Rieekan was likely not to mention a word.
Han moved his lips over her jaw, and she dug her nails into his back, inching the material of his shirt into her fingers.
"Han?" she murmured lightly, turning her lips against his ear.
"Hmm?" he grunted, distracted.
"Spoil me," she whispered suggestively, a hint of amusement in her voice.
He laughed under his breath – he was willing to bet Rieekan would berate himself for that comment for the rest of his life, and Han certainly planned to remind him of it as often as possible, but currently, he was busy realizing that with the Empire in decline and a brighter future ahead, he might be able to have Leia for the rest of his life.
honestly, sometimes i have to get ridiculous ideas out of my head in order to continue writing more serious projects. ? yikes, alexandra.
story #287