All's Fair
By Justine Graham and Erin Darroch
Feeling refreshed from the rare indulgence of a full night's sleep, Luke Skywalker made his way down through the system of ladders that led from the thatched huts of Bright Tree Village to the forest floor below. As he made his careful descent, he inhaled deeply of Endor's pine- and cedar-scented breeze and trained the full focus of his awareness in the direction of the nearby clearing where he knew the Millennium Falcon to be berthed. On waking, his first thought had been of Leia—his sister, he remembered with a renewed rush of wonder and joy—and he wanted to find her and speak with her again, if he could, before he left the forest moon. Casting his perceptions into the ethereal slipstream of the Force, he located her almost immediately and, just as quickly, realized that somethingsignificant—something very good—had happened since he'd last seen her.
So many momentous events had taken place in the days since he'd first divulged to Leia the truth of their familial connection and the identity of their biological father, he'd hardly had a moment to think about how she must be coping with the revelations. Her initial reaction had been, predictably, consternation and bewilderment, followed swiftly by shock and abject horror as she began to understand the import of his words. And then Luke had departed, leaving her standing alone in the dark on the narrow, swaying footbridge to absorb the heavy news without him. He felt a sharp pang of guilt over that recollection; he'd been so focused on his mission to confront his father again and to forestall the possibility of the strike team's mission being compromised, he'd broken the news rather more abruptly than he'd intended. He deeply regretted that now, as well as the fact that he hadn't been able to linger long enough to help Leia process the bitter reality of it all. After the battle, he'd sought her out again and they'd talked for a while but, to his chagrin, he'd found her even more overwrought and preoccupied than before, with the looming prospect of disclosing to Han the truth about their paternity consuming most of her thoughts. Luke's reassurances on that score had fallen on deaf ears. After more than six months spent desperately searching for Han and risking her life to ensure his safe return, Leia was too gripped by dread of yet another personal loss to think clearly or to take on board Luke's calm assertion that everything would be all right.
Extending his senses to Leia now, he realized that his prediction had been an accurate one. The pain and terrible anxiety that had been radiating from her for the past few days was gone, replaced by something he hadn't felt from her in—well, in truth, he'd never felt such a carefree spirit emanating from the princess. Through the Force, he felt a sense of her surging joy, a buoyant feeling that held a strong undercurrent of deep relief. Wherever she was and whatever she was doing at this moment, Leia was truly happy now, Luke realized, and that awareness filled his own heart with delight.
The day had dawned clear and bright, and a thin haze of early morning mist still hovered above the path as Luke made his way through the mammoth stands of trees. Homing in on the bright and jubilant signature that called to him like a beacon, he couldn't help but pick up on a second life-force, one that felt intimately and inextricably entwined with the first: Han Solo.
Luke smiled. Of course, he chuckled to himself as he walked, gently pushing back the numerous gargantuan fern fronds that arched over the forest trail. The significant event that had so completely transformed Leia's mood overnight from tense and worried to relaxed and cheerful must have had something to do with Han. Luke shook his head in disbelief. Although he was aware that the relationship between Han and Leia had changed profoundly over the course of the months they'd spent in slow transit from Hoth to the Bespin system—Leia's intense grief over the loss would've told the tale, even if she hadn't confessed it to Luke shortly after they'd escaped Cloud City together—he'd still been utterly amazed to see the difference with his own eyes. The strained and almost painfully discordant energy that had existed between his two closest friends when he'd last seen them together on Echo Base had been replaced, in the aftermath of Han's rescue, by a sweet and deeply harmonious weave of mutual love and longing that simply blew Luke's mind. If he hadn't witnessed it himself, he never would have believed it. Clearly, the barriers that had driven them apart, sneering and snarling at each other in the aftermath of the disastrous mission to Ord Mantell, had come tumbling down.
Nearing the clearing where he knew his friends to be, Luke was pleased to note that the strong sense of attachment and commitment that existed between them now felt even more powerful, as if it had trebled overnight. Whatever had transpired since his last conversation with his sister, it had aligned Han and Leia so completely that the separate threads of their consciousness seemed almost on the verge of merging.
As he marveled over these developments, a sudden shriek pierced the air and Luke halted mid-stride, freezing in his tracks as he re-focused his senses, seeking the source of the sound. It came again; a shrill cry that he knew in an instant was Leia's voice, and it was coming from the grassy plateau where the Falcon was perched. The sound was so completely incongruent with the sense of glee that continued to flood his senses, however, for a moment he felt nothing but bewildered confusion. He released his Force-connection to Leia with the intent of refocusing his efforts, at the same time as he heard a third wail, louder and more plaintive than the others. Seized by pure impulse and acting on adrenaline alone, he pulled his lightsaber from his belt and took off at a full sprint, ready for anything as he ran headlong up the mossy grade that led to the clearing.
The edge of the tree line came quickly into view, but Luke continued moving at his breakneck pace until he had taken a few running strides into the glade, his keen eyes scanning the broad meadow ahead, vigilant for any obvious signs of danger. The Falcon was there in the middle distance, perched squat in the center of the small landing field in the heart of the sunny clearing, right where he'd expected her to be—but neither Han nor Leia were anywhere within visual range. Rather than risk a foolhardy rush into unknown and potentially dangerous territory, Luke came to an abrupt stop, boots skidding on the dew-soaked grass, and reached out once more through the Force to pick up the thread of his sister's consciousness and hone in more closely on her exact location.
At that same moment, Luke saw a flash of hurried movement in his peripheral vision, followed by the telltale swaying of fern fronds at the wooded edge of the glade. Without waiting to see who was moving around in the undergrowth, he dashed back toward the tree line and took a running dive for cover behind the nearest colossal redwood, flattening his back against the trunk and wincing at the bite of the rough bark through the thin fabric of his tunic. He raised his lightsaber, holding it aloft in a defensive posture and gripping the hilt tightly in both hands, keeping his thumb poised over the activation switch as he centered his thoughts and readied himself to do battle. Bizarrely, he could still feel a wash of pure glee coming from Leia; it felt to Luke as if she were having the time of her life, not taking fire from enemy forces. It made no sense.
He stiffened at what sounded like a nearby shot from a handheld weapon, a bright bzzttt that was vaguely similar to that of a small blaster but without the high pitched, reverberating echo of discharging energy. Confusion and adrenaline kicked the steady hammering of his heart into overdrive, and as he prepared to bring his lightsaber to life, intending to whirl out from behind the cover of the tree and face the as-yet-unseen danger head on, he heard anotheryowl from somewhere off towards his right flank.
But this time the cry hadn't come from Leia: it had come from Han, who seemed to be under cover not far away from Luke's present location. Deciding that the risk of evaluating the potential threats outweighed the risk of giving away his position, he edged around the back side of the broad tree trunk to sneak a furtive glance out into the glade. His eyes darted from one side of the clearing to the other as he listened intently, straining to triangulate his friend's position. It was then that he heard the Corellian, still hidden from view on the other side of a dense thicket, make a sound that was a strange and vehement fusion of a laugh and a curse, followed by the distinctive strains of Leia's voice floating across the glade from the opposite direction.
"Got you pinned down, Flyboy," she called out, her voice bright and resonating with mirth. "I'll accept your surrender whenever you're ready."
From somewhere along the tree line to Luke's right, Han boomed out a defiant laugh. "You'll have to do better than that, Princess," came the cocky reply.
"Better than hitting you square in the ass?" Leia taunted back. From the sound of her voice, Luke could tell she was somewhere off to his left and on the move. "What could possibly be better? You've got a bright pink tush now, Nerfherder, thanks to me." There was an extended silence and then Leia's rich voice rang out again. "Face it, you've met your match."
From beyond the heavy copse of greenery to his right, Luke could hear his friend's distinctive low, rumbling laughter before the Corellian swallowed his mirth and yelled out in pretended scorn. "That was a lucky shot," he bellowed. "And anyway you only got the back of my thigh. It ain't over yet."
Luke lowered his weapon and ducked back behind the tree, releasing his breath in a rush. He sagged against the trunk as the surge of adrenaline coursing through his system subsided, causing his limbs to shake and his heartbeat to thunder in his ears. What he'd stumbled upon was obviously no battle; not the serious kind at least. From the sounds of it, his friends had acquired a couple of ancient training blasters, complete with dye packs, and were merrily engaged in a mock skirmish, chasing each other around the Falcon's makeshift landing field. Pressing his mouth into the crook of his elbow, Luke stifled the urge to burst out laughing. He wanted to remain hidden for a moment longer, feeling fascinated and more than a little amazed by the realization that Han and Leia were….well, they were playing.
"Lucky shot?" Leia's voice, filled with mock outrage, sounded much closer now. "I think the term you're looking for is 'skilled marksmanship'."
"Nah, you barely winged me," Han shouted in a defensive tone. "I've been going easy on you, Princess, but I'm takin' the gloves off now. Better admit defeat before you find yourself limping off the field."
"HA!" Leia's sharp exclamation was loud and boisterous enough to roust a pair of Endoran cedar doves that had settled in the branches above her apparent position.
Luke risked another glance around the tree trunk in time to see the princess step just to the edge of the tree line to his left, not far away, still partially obscured by the heavy undergrowth and with her blaster pointed squarely in the direction of where Han was hidden, to Luke's right. She was dressed in fitted combat gear, green and grey to blend in with the terrain, with her dark hair bound in braids around her head and her big brown eyes lively with anticipation. She had a small blotch of bright blue paint on one uniformed thigh and a bit of the same paint smeared on her bare forearm, but she was otherwise unmarked. As Luke watched, she set her feet and steadied her arm in a shooting stance and then lifted her chin.
"The only thing limping around here is your credibility, Solo," she goaded. "What kind of a war hero skulks around in the bushes, anyway?"
"The kind that lives to fight another day."
As he said those words, Han burst from the undergrowth, arm already extended and blaster pointed straight at Leia as he fired off a couple of shots and then dove sideways for cover once more.
At the same time, Leia made a frantic dash for a stand of tall ferns on her left—a move that, thankfully, took her a little farther away from Luke's clandestine position. He heard two rapid-fire blaster bolts from Han followed by an answering yelp from Leia, and slipped around to the other side of the tree in time to see her execute a flawless combat-style shoulder roll into the bracken, with two new splotches of cobalt blue decorating the front of her uniform top. She rolled out of her turn with practiced precision, and then rose up onto her knees between two huge ferns, with her weapon aimed and at the ready once more. Luke heard the hollow click of the trigger mechanism, and then...nothing for a long moment, until the resounding silence was broken by Leia's sharp curse, followed by the sound of the Corellian's deep, satisfied laugh.
Stretching out his neck for a better view, Luke saw Han straighten from his crouched position behind a squat fire-leaf bush. Ostentatiously lobbing his training blaster onto the sunlit grass a short distance in front of him, the Corellian then made a show of casually brushing at the litterfall clinging to his paint-spattered trousers, smearing streaks of shocking pink across the dark surface of the fabric. Leia must have landed a number of very close hits, Luke realized; Han had paint in his hair, and flecks of pink speckled his white shirt. "Skilled marksmanship, maybe," he said. "But you forgot the first rule of armed combat, Sweetheart. Count your shots."
Leia poked her head out from behind the swaying blind of foliage, saw that Han was presently unarmed, and then rose warily to her feet. Stepping forward from the thatch of ferns with her spent weapon dangling loosely from her fingers, she faced off with the tall Corellian across the bright clearing. From Luke's hidden vantage point in the shadowed tree line, roughly halfway between the two, he could see both of his friends clearly; he just hoped they wouldn't spot him. He was still riveted by the spectacle of them cavorting like a couple of kids, and he wanted to see how their playful skirmish would end.
For a moment the pair simply eyed one another with secretive smiles, each appearing to be calculating the other's next move while simultaneously planning their own. Leia cut her eyes away, and Luke followed her gaze to an ammo pouch that he hadn't noticed before, lying near the foot of the Falcon's extended boarding ramp, a good sixty meters away from her position and about forty meters away from where Han stood. The bag had tipped over on its side, spilling its contents of dye packs and spare power cells out onto the surrounding grass. Luke didn't need to use the Force to know what Leia was considering; if she could just get there, it wouldn't take much to scoop up a pack and reload on the fly. He could see her calculating her chances of reaching that goal before Han could retrieve his discarded blaster from the grass, aim and shoot.
Leia angled her gaze back in Han's direction, meeting his eyes with a knowing smile, and then she tilted her head, arching one eyebrow as if daring him to challenge her. Luke could see Han's body tense visibly in anticipation, the fingers of his right hand twitching in readiness. Then, in a burst of energy, Leia was on the move. She bolted toward the stockpile of spare ammunition just as Han swooped down for the blaster on the ground and came up firing. His shots went a little wild as he gave chase and then, apparently deciding to dispense with weaponry, he threw the blaster aside and put all of his energy into intercepting the sprinting princess.
Although Leia was nimble and swift in her own right, she was barely a match for Han's speed and strength. His long legs covered more ground with every running stride, and before her shorter ones had carried her scarcely a quarter of the way across the wide expanse of meadow toward the Falcon, the Corellian had reached the intersection point on the trajectory between Leia and the supplies on the ground. Slowing a little, he angled around to put himself between the princess and her goal, with his arms spread wide to catch her. But what Leia lacked in speed, she more than made up for in agility and raw determination. Like the intuitive military strategist she was, once it became apparent that she was not going to best Han on swiftness alone, she switched tactics completely and focused her efforts on trying to outmaneuver him instead. She ducked and weaved, bending and twisting her supple frame in an effort to evade the arms that reached out for her as she tried to sidestep her way around him, but it was no use. Han was a pretty good strategist himself and he knew her well; anticipating her movements, he finally lunged at just the right moment and nabbed her as she tried to skirt past him. His long arms circled tightly around her waist to hold her fast against him as he swung her off her feet, and Leia doubled over in peals of bright laughter as she struggled, half-heartedly at best, to get away.
Watching them, Luke found himself grinning from ear-to-ear. The Alliance's victory over Imperial forces, the destruction of the second Death Star and, especially, the death of the Emperor had all been monumental events, to be sure, and good reasons to celebrate. But this was something truly special. His dear friends were firmly together at long last and, judging by the warm glow emanating from both of them through the Force, they were very happy about it, too. Clearly, Leia must have confided the truth of her paternity to Han at some point the previous evening and, just as clearly, Han truly didn't give a damn about it. Luke smiled, gratified to know that his expectation of his friend's reaction had been right on target.
He was just about to step out of hiding and announce his presence to the pair when, still playfully tussling, they went tumbling to the ground. The fall appeared to be entirely Han's doing, and he bore the brunt of the impact as he dragged Leia down to the soft meadow grass to sprawl on top of him. Although her startled yelp told Luke that she'd been taken by surprise, it was a move that she evidently did not oppose. After all, the extent of her hand-to-hand combat training had equipped her with the ability to deal with such a maneuver should it be unwelcome, and the look of radiant joy that graced her features as she gazed down at Han was proof enough that she was quite happy withher present circumstances. Han, too, was obviously enjoying the game; he gave Leia a wide grin as she drew her knees up alongside his body, straddling his hips and briefly bracing her hands atop his chest for balance. Before she could use those hands against him, though, he grabbed her by the wrists and spread his arms wide, keeping her hands locked apart and far from his body. Leia wriggled and twisted from side to side in an effort to escape his grasp, but Han held her in check, preventing her from gaining enough momentum to wrench herself free.
Then, just as quickly as he'd taken her down, Han released his hold on her wrists, threw his arms around her body and then rolled to the side, reversing their positions. A squawk of surprise erupted from Leia as she found herself on her back in the thick meadow grass, with the weight of Han's body effectively pinning her to the ground. Han grappled with her flailing arms, trying—with limited success—to pin them, too. In the midst of Leia's bubbling laughter, Luke thought he heard snippets of gasped invective coming from her, and a hail of insulting epithets directed at Han's terrible aim, his lack of agility and his damned cheating tactics. And even though she yelled and bucked against Han as he surged over her, laughing, the smile on her face and the way she gazed up at him with an expression of deep affection belied the indignant tone of her voice.
The sight of them, lying on the grass in the sun-drenched meadow, covered in twigs, dry pine needles and other debris that clung to the tacky paint on their hair and clothing was so captivating—and, if Luke ever had a more fitting use for the word, romantic—that he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. Seeing Han and Leia together like this, two headstrong people who'd long ago demonstrated their capacity to squabble, bicker and brawl their way through almost anything, filled him with a sense of happy amazement, and the tender emotions that radiated from them both through the Force made his throat tighten with joy.
Leia stopped struggling then and Luke considered averting his eyes and slinking away in silence as the princess dragged her hands down the length of Han's body to run them over his paint-splattered backside. Then, through the Force, Luke felt Leia's spike of mischievous elation just as she lifted her hands, clapped her sticky, freshly paint-covered palms to Han's cheeks and then dragged them up through his hair, making it stand stiffly on end. The bright streaks of vibrant pink color and the corona of dry leaves festooning Han's head made him look like some sort of undiscovered alien species and Leia broke into gales of laughter, delighted with the extent of the damage she'd done. Han didn't appear to take any notice, however, now intent upon one thing, and one thing only….
With a jolt, Luke realized exactly where this was going.
He stared, frozen in place, as Han dived down and buried his face into the crook of Leia's neck, deliberately smearing her with pink paint as he vigorously rubbed his wet cheek against her skin. Leia gave an outraged squeal that swiftly turned into a sigh as Han turned his attention to the other side of her neck, his mouth descending upon her vulnerable throat with obvious intent. Luke's eyes widened as the distinct sound of feral growling and open-mouthed, sucking kisses being planted on skin reached his ears. Leia gave a breathless little cry and gripped Han's shoulders with curling fingers as his lips trailed up the arc of her neck to nuzzle at her ear, then along the line of her jaw to nibble her chin. And then their mouths met, and it was clear that their wrestling match was over. Leia wrapped her arms around the Corellian's neck as she kissed him long and hard, and Han scooped his arms around her, too, aligning their bodies into a far more harmonious configuration, tightly pressed against each other. When Leia squirmed a little and then hitched her legs up and wrapped them around Han's narrow hips, Luke finally blinked and snapped his gaping mouth shut. Snatching his gaze away, he turned his back on the sunny meadow and covered his face with one hand as he paced a few steps deeper into the shadowed forest.
He had the urge once again to burst out laughing, but he bit his lip and held his breath to quell the sensation as he pondered over his unexpected predicament. He really wanted to speak with Leia again, and as soon as possible. Despite her present state of euphoria, he knew that the burden of their shared parentage was a heavy one, and he needed to make sure that she felt supported—and not abandoned—by her long-lost twin.
There was no chance he was going to interrupt them now, obviously, but he wondered if he shouldn't linger a respectable distance away for a few minutes, and maybe catch them when they were dusting themselves off and packing up the training equipment.
He turned back and, through the waving fronds, saw that neither Han nor Leia would be dusting themselves off any time soon. They'd settled into what appeared to be a comfortable tangle of arms and legs, a warm full-body embrace that sent vibrations of happy emotion resonating through the Force, along with new ripples of energy of a sort he easily recognized, but had never sensed from either one of them before—one that made him flush with a sudden surge of mild embarrassment.
In short order, Luke decided that catching up with his sister could wait. Leia was exactly where she should be, both in body and in mind, which was somewhere he most definitely would not befollowing.
Politely closing off his connection to her, he turned in the direction of the forest path, intending to return to the village in search of something to eat while he bided his time. He smiled as he walked away, listening to the low murmur of his friends' voices as they faded behind him, blending in with the rising drone of insects and the trills and chirps of myriad birds. Some intuition told him that this morning's playful, sweet interlude with Han, and other deeply bonding moments like this between them, would do far more to restore Leia's sense of equilibrium than any amount of pained discussion with her newfound brother. As he stepped lightly down the meandering forest path, Luke caught snatches of their distant laughter, borne aloft on the morning breeze to wind through the trees and sift through the leaves, their joy now a part of the Endor forest forever.
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The End
A/N: This was written for mandatheginger's First of May challenge, but (obviously) we're a little slow. We didn't even make it in time for May the Fourth...but we hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.