This story is inspired in part by a headcanon I did in response to an ask from graciecatfamilyband / imnothere24 about things Han would rearrange of Leia's for fun. Ironically, the actual rearranging things part of the headcanon didn't make it into this story (you can read that on my Tumblr if you want), but it made me think about how she got the things in the first place. And then I thought about a box of Leia's things arriving on Home One...but no Leia. Also fits with the Scoundress Saturday prompts "memory" and "What's with the box?" If you can get through the sadness, I promise you there is happy to be found.
Les Portes du Souvenir
The box had arrived at Carlist Rieekan's door a week after the last of the transports from Hoth had checked in at the rendezvous point. New bases had been identified (from the list the Princess had painstakingly researched, Carlist noted), new assignments made, and only a few ships from the Alliance were still maintaining the rendezvous. There were bound to be a few more stragglers, but by now the assumption was generally that if you'd made it off Hoth, you'd already checked in here.
Technically, there were two boxes of Princess Leia's personal effects that had been entrusted to him. He hadn't wanted to open them—it felt like an invasion of privacy, and given the fact that Solo's last communication had assured them he was getting her out on the Falcon, Carlist fully expected them to roll into the rendezvous point at any minute, with a battered ship and some new excuse for why Solo wasn't leaving to settle his debt with the Hutts. But at least one of the boxes had been logged as containing wet clothing and linens (evidently there'd been some sort of malfunction with the heating system in the Princess's quarters on Hoth) and there was some concern about the risk of mold now that they were on the warmer, climate-controlled environment of Home One, so both had to be opened for inspection.
After the droids had cleared the second box of any mold risk, Carlist had hurriedly closed it up and stored it in his quarters for the Princess to reclaim upon her return. He had what he realized was a rather stubborn hope for her survival, inspired in part by what she'd already endured, as well as by the knowledge that if anyone could get her out safely, it would be Solo. His hopes were bolstered by the fact that several of the Rogues had reported seeing the Millennium Falcon take off from Hoth, but dashed by the knowledge that Skywalker had also been seen taking off, and hadn't turned up yet either.
He couldn't bring himself to look inside the box, nor to get rid of it. Not yet. Not even after a few more weeks had gone by, not after Jan Dodonna had continually referred to the Princess in the past tense at their last High Council meeting, not after Mon had gently pulled him aside afterwards: She's like a daughter to me too, but I'm afraid we have to prepare ourselves to assume the worst.
Then, seven weeks after they'd evacuated Hoth, Carlist heard the Princess's familiar alto voice come over the comm, requesting permission for the Millennium Falcon to land, and requesting emergency medical support for a human male.
He'd assumed she was talking about Solo.
Carlist pulled Leia aside on one of the breaks between what felt like endless questioning from her own allies (How extensive would you say was the torture you received from the Empire this time? How about Captain Solo? Did you share any information with Captain Solo regarding the rendezvous point or our plans afterward? What about the potential base locations, were any of those discussed? Did you leave willingly with Captain Solo? Is it possible that either of you revealed information inadvertently? What about Chewbacca?).
"I have some things of yours from the old base, from your quarters," he said kindly. It was hard to look at him; he'd seemed so genuinely relieved to see her, and so genuinely dismayed when he'd seen that Han wasn't with them. "Not a rush, but I can bring them by, or you can come by whenever you're ready."
"Thank you," she said quietly. She wasn't really sure what to do with this information; right now it was all she could do to avoid screaming everything she was feeling and thinking at everyone. He saved my godsdamned life. I would be dead on Hoth without him, you bastards. I love him and I've loved him for years and he loves me, too. And they tortured him and froze him and they took him away, and if we don't hurry Jabba's going to kill him, because of me.
She couldn't scream; she had to focus, because she had to get through this debriefing so that she could take care of everything else that needed her attention. Take care of Luke. Make sure Chewie is okay. Get Lando out of custody and vetted so he can help Chewie find Han. Get out of this godsforsaken snowsuit. Make a plan.
In the back of her mind, she considered how bizarre it was that the Rebellion that had consumed her life previously was now about sixth on the list of her priorities.
They're lucky it's still on the list, she thought, as she braced for another round of questioning.
Carlist was surprised to find Leia at his door later that day; after a rather brutal afternoon of debriefing, she'd gone directly to Medical to check on Skywalker, who had come in missing a hand and with multiple lightsaber wounds.
"Come in," he invited, his more formal greetings going by the wayside. She accepted his offer of a cup of tea, and when he turned back after putting on the kettle, he saw her open the lid of her box of belongings from Echo Base.
Her face changed, from the kind yet cool efficiency she'd displayed in the debriefing session to—Leia. Not the demure princess Jan had wanted to memorialize her as, not the cold Ice Princess the rumors on Hoth would have people believe, more than a soldier or a figurehead or an image on a wanted holo. Bail and Breha's daughter, for certain, but fully grown into her own self.
Carlist remembered what it had been like with his own children, to have that moment when you stopped seeing them as the baby or toddler they had been and rejoiced at seeing them as a fully realized person.
He came closer, and at her nodding invitation, looked at the items that had seemed to spark this transformation.
The striking thing about most of them was how ordinary they were. There were a few special things, like the woodcarvings done in the traditional Alderaani style, the piece of amber with preserved arallute flower petals in it, the small tapestry. But most of the items were what someone whose planet still existed would consider junk: empty shampoo bottles, a box from a container of Starflower soap, an empty bottle of callaberry juice, an empty jar of malla petal jam, a tin of violet candies, a bottle of cheap perfume that had once been popular among Alderaani teenagers. Petal Soft. He smiled to think about how she had carefully preserved these little traces of their home planet.
Then he realized how she'd come by almost all of these things: Solo. Han had checked in with him, a couple of times, about the name of this flower or that fruit from Alderaan before heading out on a run to a planet with an open air market. More than once he'd noticed Solo slipping Leia a small package after returning from a supply run. And he knew for a fact that after her yearly duties to commemorate the Disaster and the Battle of Yavin were done, Leia would slip off to the Falcon to hide out from the sympathetic looks of those who knew and the oblivious drunkenness of those who did not understand.
For all their mutual insistence that they were indifferent to each other, or just friends, Carlist knew better, and the contents of this box—not to mention the look on Leia's face right now—were almost physical proof of that fact. Trinket by trinket, Solo had tried to give Leia Alderaan back the best way he knew how. And piece by piece, Leia had honored his gifts and carefully preserved them all. Not just for Alderaan, but for Han.
Leia looked at Carlist again, and this time, she looked bereft. "I love him," she said, and Carlist didn't need to ask whom.
"Lelila," he said, using her childhood nickname for the first time in years, and moving to hold her the way her father would, were he here to soothe her broken heart.
"What's with the box?" asked Han, coming into the bedroom where Leia was pinning up her braids. Most of the things in their new apartment in Coruscant had already been unpacked, but Leia hadn't wanted to trust this box with the movers.
She accepted the mug of kaffe he handed her with a smile. "Some little keepsakes," she said. "Wanted to unpack them myself. Go ahead, open it if you want."
He grinned at her. "You're not worried I'm going to find out all your secrets?" he asked.
"You already know 90% of my secrets," she returned, and laughed at his questioning look. "Hey, I get to keep some secrets for myself."
He began digging into the box, and got unnaturally quiet and serious as he carefully sifted through the contents. Leia watched him, sipping her kaffe.
Finally, Han looked up. "You kept all of this stuff?" he asked softly.
"I did."
"This is from Echo Base," he said, holding up one of the empty soap containers.
"It is."
Han looked at her with love. "All these things…" he said again.
Leia smiled back at him.
Then he grinned, wider this time. "You liked me! I knew it!"
Her eyes twinkled. "I think you might have liked me a little, too," she teased, putting her kaffe mug down and moving toward him.
He pulled her close. "Min larel," he said, kissing her, and they were both late for work.