The night was no longer young. In fact, the sun itself would soon begin its ascent over the horizon of the small moon of Endor. However, as if unaware of the late hour, celebration reigned, not only here, but throughout of the far reaches of the galaxy. For this was no ordinary night. The Empire itself had been dissolved on its eve. The galaxy was finally free of the evil Emperor Palpatine, and his second in command, the sith lord Darth Vader and democracy could finally be restored after nearly two decades of dictatorship. And to think, all of this was brought about by a small band of rebels and Ewoks, that included a few droids, a former mercenary, a princess, and a Jedi Knight.

Princess Leia Organa quietly bade her brother Luke goodnight, and slipped away from the celebrations of Endor unnoticed. She crossed one or two rope bridges and headed toward the small hut she was staying in. Being of small stature, she fit easily into the low doorway. She stumble a bit as she walked toward the small table and its makeshift mirror. How many drinks had she had? She vaguely remembered allowing Lando to fill up her empty glass, but how many times? Well, I can still think straight, so I can't be that drunk, she thought. She examined herself in the mirror. She had left her hair loose, aside from a small circlet of braid at the crown of her head. It was unusual for her, as she normally had her hair twisted and twined into some traditional style of Aldeeran. Aldeeran. The thought of her beloved homeland still plunged her into sorrow, even after all this time. The truth was, however, that she had not given herself any time to grieve. She had immersed herself and all of her efforts into the Rebellion. Maybe she should stop burying the emotions, no that the Rebellion no longer needed to exist. No, Leia, she told herself, Not now. She would not allow herself to fall into sorrow today. She kicked of her shoes, and fell into bed, still fully clothed. Her eyelids drooped, and she was dozing in minutes.

~o~O~o~

Captain Han Solo, pilot of the Millennium Falcon, former mercenary, and official hero of the Rebellion, watched as his true love left the celebrations, a bit drunk. That was more than he could say for himself. He had to give those fuzz-balls some credit, they sure knew how to make some really good booze. Even Chewie had downed a whole barrel, and boy, are Wookies picky when it comes to their drink. His right hand reached into the pocket of his jacket, fingering the delicate trinket inside. Of course, to him, it was more than just a trinket, considering he would be giving it to Leia when he asked her to marry him. Engagement customs varied throughout the galaxy, and since he did not no any of the customs of the late Aldeeran, he had decided to make is own. It was this descion that had resulted in the thin chain inside his pocket. From it hung a small pendant of a flower. No one he had encountered new the flower's real name, bu throughout the galaxy it was known as simply the 'Hardy Flower'. The blooms themselves were quite beautiful, with creamy white petals and streaks of deep purple that blossomed from their center. However, on many agricultural systems where this plant was found, it was thought of as nothing more than a common weed. The flowers were extremely invasive, they took over any empty space that they could possibly grow in, and were impossible to get rid of. It had taken him but one look for him to think, Leia. The flowers definetly described Her Worshipfullness perfectly. He had immediately gone to a jeweler to get the pendant made, but the stuck up-potbellied idiot who called himself a jeweler had taken a lot of convincing to make one of 'that weed'. It was quite a few credits, but it was worth every one. He had had it shipped to Mon Mothma with instructions to give it to Leia if he didn't come back from one of those suicide missions. He had retrieved it just earlier that night after Luke had gotten back. Han shook his head. For some reason, he could not rid himself of the urge to follow Leia to her hut and propose to her, right there. Of course, his sober self had planned a romantic evening, candles and food and the whole package, but the liquor was ruling his thought process at the moment, so he stumbled after her. It took him quite some time to cross those damn rope bridges, since when he stumbled his foot got stuck in the spaces between the boards. He finally reached Leia hut, after stumbling off the last rope bridge. Not minding the low doorway, he started forward, only to hit his head, hard. He went reeling back, rubbing his forehead.

~o~O~o~

Bang! Leia's head snapped up. What was that noise? Instinctively, she grabbed the blaster from her bedside table. She inched towards the doorway, trying her best not to cause the floorboards to creak. She cautiously pushed back the curtain at her door. A man stood there in the darkness, mumbling to himself and rubbing his forehead. She eyed him warily, not sure if she should speak or not.

"What to you want?" she said, trying to make her voice intimidating as possible.

The man turned toward her. His eyes widened. He mumbled something she couldn't understand and advanced toward her.

"Stay back!" she said, brandishing her blaster, "I'll shoot!"

The man only laughed, and continued his advance.

Leia pulled the trigger.

The shot nearly missed, only grazing his side, but it was enough for him to exclaim in pain and fall back. Without lowering her blaster, she opened the curtain to her hut wider, so that the light from inside would fall on his face.

It was Han.

~o~O~o~

"What were you doing outside my hut in the middle of the night Han?" exclaimed Leia as she helped him inside. It didn't look like the blaster had done much damage, but the wound looked like it would need bandaging.

"Actually, sweetheart...ifff...if you wanna get technical, it mm..morning." Han slurred.

Leia sighed. She eased him into a sitting position on her bed.

"I know I'm annoying, Your Worship, but did'ya have to shoot me?"

Leia ignored his drunken rant, and rummaged through the few clothes that were here until she found some cloth that she could use for a bandage.

"Alright Han, take off your shirt." she said, knowing what was to come.

Han whistled. "Y'know sweetheart, if that was all you wanted the whole time, why didn'tya just say so?"

"Just take your blasted shirt off, you scruffy idiot, so I can fix that wound of yours!"

"Fine..fine." he mumbled. He pulled off his shirt, wincing as the cloth brushed his blaster wound.

Leia tore the cloth into strips, and wet them in water. She gently brought the wet cloth to his side, trying desperately to ignore the way his skin felt under her hand. He winced in pain as first she touched his wound with the cloth, but stayed still while she cleaned his wound. She carefully tied the dry strips of cloth around his stomach, determinedly looking everywhere but at his sculpted chest. She stepped back.

"There." she said. "Its done."

"Is it sweetheart?" Han whispered, grabbing her arm and pulling her close, until she could feel his breath against her cheek. "That's too bad. Because I rather liked it." With that, he kissed her. It was not a hard kiss, like the one she was expecting, but sweet and slow. For such a rugged man, Leia found it surprising every time he kissed her that his lips did not match the rest of his body. Instead, they were soft, and she was reminded of the way he held her on the Millenium Falcon, what seemed like decades ago. The kiss, despite his obvious drunkenness, did not have the sour taste of liquor, but a flavor that she could not name. It tasted like...him. His hands wrapped around her waist as her's tangled into his hair. It was several moments before they resurfaced, gasping for air.

"So Princess, you were wondering why I was here?" said Han, his eyes boring into hers.

"Well...yes."

"Good." he said. She noticed his fingers were continuously fiddling with something in his pocket. "Because I had a question to ask you." Leia's breaths were shorter now, and she was glad that he could not hear her heart racing. Han got down on one knee, teetering wildly as his sense of balance had been compromised. Leia fought back a wild urge to giggle. She held her breath as he opened his mouth.

~o~O~o~

Han was down on one knee, trying his best to keep from swaying, as he tried to figure out which one of the three Leia's he was seeing at the moment was the right one to propose to. Ok, Han, he thought, The one in the middle. He took a deep breath and asked,

"L..Leia, www..will you mmmarry me?" Damn liquor was coating his tongue. He looked up into Leia's face. I was scrunched up, as if she were fighting some emotion that was threatening to take over. Was she about to start crying? He hoped not. He wasn't good with all that mushy stuff. She seemed to steel herself, took a deep breath and shouted,

"Why you nerf brained, pot-bellied, idiotic...man! I should stuff you with bantha steaks and leave you to fight the wampas! You have all the breeding of a tusken!"

"What?" exclaimed Han. Of the two answers he was expecting, this was not one of them.

"How dare you! Of all the nerve...!"

"So...is that a no?" Han said dejectedly.

"That's not what I said!" Han let his hopes up for a moment. Does she mean yes?

"Since your so dense that you didn't get it already, what I was trying to say was, I can't believe you just asked me to marry you when your about as drunk as an old hutt!" She said, her eyes flashing. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I..." Han felt anger boiling up inside him when he found he did not, in fact have anything to say. "Well, I wasn't going to ask you like this you know!" He retorted. "Its not like I planned this or something!"

Leia huffed and turned her back to him.

Han mumbled to himself, "May Jabba sit up in his grave and eat me, all because I wanted to give it to her now. I knew this was a bad idea." He saw Leia regard him from the corner of her vision, one eyebrow raised.

"Give me what exactly?"

"Nothin." he mumbled. This was not the time to give her the necklace. This was the time to leave, and sleep off his oncoming headache. Even former mercenaries get hungover.

"Give me what Han?" she said, her voice softer now as she turned her eyes to his.

"This." Han said childishly, pulling the necklace out of his pocket. Wait...What? He stared a the trinket in his hand, surprised. It was the liquor again, making his brain fuzzy, clouding his judgement.

"Oh." Han turned at the unexpected sound. It was so soft, it was hard for him to believe it came from Leia's lips. She bent down, to where he was sitting, and fingered the pendant hanging from the tips of his fingers.

"Is that..a Hardy Flower?" Leia whispered.

"Well..umm..Yeah." Han said, alarmed at how fast Leia's eyes went from steely to watery. "If you don't mind me askin'...whats it mean to you?"

"They used to grow all over the palace in Aldeeran. Especially outside my window. They framed it, like a picture. In fact, the family portrait of me was of me looking out of my window." She laughed, but sadly. "The painter said it was a frame within a frame." Han watched as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. He wiped it away tenderly with his unsteady hand.

"My father used to pluck one every night for me when I was small." She looked down, her voice cracking.

"Hey, sweetheart, look at me." He tilted her chin up so that her eyes met his. "Sorry if this brought back memories." He tried to let go of her face, but her own hand stopped him.

"No, Han. Those memories were just what I needed." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him as the sun rose over the horizon.

~o~O~o~

Leia opened her eyes to find herself lying on the floor. What? She felt hard leather, coarse fabric, and the gentle rise of Han's chest, and she remembered. Han had hilariously fallen into a drunken stupor, and instead of leaving him on the floor and going to bed, like the sensible person, she had curled up beside him like a cat and promptly fallen asleep. She detangled herself from his arms and stood up. Something was pulling at her hair. She reached back and a small chain gave way and fell into her hand. She smiled at the pendant and gently fastened it around her neck. She extracted a piece of parchment from her belongings, and wrote a few words. She kissed Han on the forehead, and slipped out of her hut, leaving the note on his chest.

~o~O~o~

Han opened his eyes to a pounding headache. Why the hell was he on the floor? Looking around, he remebered. Where was Leia? As he righted himself, a small piece of parchment fell of his chest. On it, a few words were written in elegant hand.

To my dearest nerfherder,

Yes. But have the dignity to ask me again when you are sober will you?

Han smiled to himself.