To anyone who'd been following along on Tumblr, there are some changes that happened in the revision process. I hope you don't mind. And thank you so much for your wonderful response to the first part. It meant so much to me. Same warnings apply here, of course.
2
It was a long night. Well, it wasn't like once he decided how to proceed that suddenly hours would just fall off the night, or like he could suddenly sleep – she was mostly out, but he couldn't do anything but lie there. Lie there and think. And then: shaking her up every few hours and also Mothma and Rieekan coming in and out. He'd anticipated nightmares but there hadn't been any, really, that he could tell. She'd clung tight still, like she did on Tatooine. But no nightmares. Maybe the drugs were too strong for that?
He'd expected her to protest, with the medicine, when woken – Leia hated medical intervention, she hated drugs, and she hated being babied – but she didn't, just clung to his shirt and accepted. The sedatives, them, still. Somehow the fact that she just blindly accepted it, opened her mouth when he said, not so much trusting but just – accepting. A less attractive kind of acceptance. Her eyes confused and weary, mouth opening just the barest amount.
Even more tiring: the two members of High Command who were constantly in and out, hovering, tidying, arranging and, worst of all, murmuring to each other when they switched holding their post. Making it clear every little thing they knew, that he didn't know. He hated it. He hated being in the bedroom holding her while everyone else in the world was out and about, stuck here unable to help her. He hated being shaken awake, the few times he did manage to shut his eyes, by some fucking Alliance official frowning worriedly and holding the pills, asking him to be a conduit between the world and Leia by waking her himself. If they felt too uncomfortable to wake her, how the hell did they figure they had business being here?
Hated saying while Mon Mothma hovered nearby, "Hey, princess, hey-hey…"
"Mm – n' – Ha?"
"Yep, it's Han," he'd say awkwardly, glancing over his shoulder at Mothma.
"Ha…" she'd say, sleepy and happy, her eyes half shut, her mouth a sloppy open-mouth smile.
"Listen," he'd mumble, yawning and going through the motions of getting her permission even though he knew she'd mostly just sleepily babble, "Ya can go back to sleep in a second, sweetheart, just – mm, y'gotta open up and take this, alright?"
"Mmmm… Ha…" she'd murmur, peering up at him confusedly but decently happily – and that's when he'd slip the tablet under her tongue. "Jus' let it dissolve, sweetheart… that's m'girl…" And then glance over at Mothma and nod at her, all she took it we're done here, before lying back down beside Leia and trying to get a few more hours of sleep.
He hadn't been able to sleep much, though – had gotten up right before Mothma was heading out for the morning. And then, as it were, he would barely ever be able to go back to sleep again.
"The medical report is anticipating," she was saying as she briskly collected her things, "that she may have some discomfort walking unassisted this morning. You should watch out for making sure she can get to the 'fresher, things of that nature."
"She was fine on Tatooine," he said flatly. "Little scraped up, but – fine."
"Yes, well. That's the nature of infection – without treatment, things become more inflamed."
"Yeah, thanks, I know how the hell infection works – infection?"
"I don't want to compromise the princess's privacy, but––"
"Listen, I don't know what it's gonna take to get it through your head about her and me, but I'm here, alright, m'here to stay and m'serious about her and––"
"But I will say that – you must understand that wounds left untreated over just a few days…"
"Wounds," he echoed harshly. "Fuckin' – wounds… I need that fuckin' report––"
"That's private medical information and so I can't show you that, Han," the woman said gently, and as he continued to grimace he realized fleetingly that he'd never heard the woman say his name. "But while I was accompanying her she demonstrated remarkable fortitude and I really believe she will be okay."
"Yeah, well! Shouldn't've been you with her in the first place!" he snapped, and he shook his head sharply. "You people just take from her, that's all you wanna do – take an' take an' take… I should've been there, too busy doing that damn debrief, you're up in her space while you got your medic's doing fuck knows what––"
"Captain Solo," Mothma interrupted delicately, her voice measured but firm. "'Her mission was not sanctioned by High Command."
Translation: This is not on me. This is on you.
That's where his head was, when Rieekan arrived, when he tried to eat some breakfast, when he gave her the next few doses of meds. Her mission was not sanctioned by High Command. Her mission was not sanctioned. Her mission. She ran on after you and this is what happened. She did this for you, you did this to her, you fucked her up Solo, you fucked her up so bad. He didn't even know, not exactly, how he fucked her up though he could guess. You fucking did this, she did it for you, you did this to her. He was so busy brooding that he almost didn't hear her, even, when she stirred – and then suddenly, there she was in the main room's doorway, wearing the white medical-issue pajamas with a sheet, one of his from his cabin now that he realized it, around her shoulders like a shawl. She rubbed her eyes.
"Hey," Han said, jumping to his feet, then trying to make the jump look less awkward and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Hey. You're up."
"It would appear that way," Leia said, yawning. "What time – oh! Carlist, I didn't see you there…"
"Good morning," Rieekan said.
"I didn't anticipate so much of an audience," Leia said, her voice still thick with her long sleep – she wasn't critical or annoyed, just – surprised.
"Everyone just wanted to make sure you were okay, Lelila," Rieekan said earnestly, setting down the tray of breakfast foods he'd brought her back from mess. Han knew she would barely pick at it, but maybe it would give her some comfort, knowing there were people looking out for her? (Yeah right, said a voice in his head, as if she's ever enjoyed being looked out for.)
"Everyone…" she echoed warily, rubbing her eyes a little more. He could see her trying to take subtle survey of her own body, tilting her head and flexing her fingers and trying to tell what hurt – he was doing the same, about her. Noticing the way her knees were pressed together a bit strangely, how she was leaning on the doorway, how her face seemed waxy with sweat.
"Just us and then Mothma," Han assured her, picking up too on her anxiety. "They," he jerked his thumb there, "were switching shifts through the night, to mark when you needed meds."
"Mon – Mon was here?" she asked, yawning, perplexed.
He frowned, wondering if it was just sleepiness or something more insidious like fever. "Yeah, she took you to medical. She uh – she said she sat with you through the exam…"
Leia's face went a bit white, probably at the horror of that level of intimacy in front of her role model. "Oh. Yes. I remember now."
"I know, I hate it there too, too sterile," he muttered, covering for her, giving her an out.
"Was your exam okay, Han?" she asked, still looking anxiously between them.
"Yeah––" he began, but stopped himself and then carefully continued. "Well. They want me to sit around for a few days, not push it, rest. Kinda said you'd sit with me – hope that's okay." He tried to give her a sheepish grin as Rieekan's eyes bored into him. The older man knew Han was lying, of course, completely lying, in fact he'd been totally cleared, but maybe he'd understand that this would probably be the only way to keep Leia from rushing straight back to work or else being totally mortified and humiliated that she wasn't allowed to.
"Of course," she said graciously, taking tentative step before wincing and keeping her post in the doorframe. Han tried not to let his horror show and instead tried to keep his face an even, casual mask. "Of course, the most important thing is that you recover."
"Yeah," he agreed, trying to make it sound genuine.
"There's breakfast for you here, Lelila," Rieekan offered gently. "You should try to eat something – the medication is hard on an empty stomach."
"Medication…"
"Yeah, you brought home some stuff with you, 've been waking you up every few hours for narcs and there's some other stuff," Han said, and she pursed her lips and nodded.
"Come eat?" Rieekan again, and Han could see the way she opened her mouth, then shut it, considering the distance to the couch, how she flushed with unadulterated humiliation. And he wanted to throw up, but barely, barely kept his cool.
"Hey uh, why don't you grab her meds an' things from the 'fresher, huh? So she can see what everything is and get a handle on it?" Han said quickly, and once the older man had exited he headed over to where she was standing with quick strides. She had the back of her palm against her cheek, as if trying to feel for fever, and she mostly just looked – confused.
"Think you might be warm?"
"I have a bit of a chill," she admitted.
"C'I feel?"
"Please."
He laid his own against her forehead. It felt a little hot, but not worse than it did yesterday. "Not so bad, just fightin' off infection I think," he muttered. "You uh, you need a hand getting to the couch?"
"I told you, I'm fine," she said, grabbing his hands and squeezing them. "Please, don't you worry about me."
He grunted, "Alright," and watched her take exceedingly delicate steps to the couch, trailing her and trying to keep his expression neutral even though he was ready to kill something. Discomfort, fortitude, unsanctioned. She'd been fine yesterday – what, they – stitch her up, or – he had to shove that out of his head immediately too – privacy, respect, don't worry… He watched her ease herself onto the couch and pretended not to notice the hiss of pain that escape from between her teeth.
"You're due for another painkiller right about now," he said in a low voice. "Should feel a little better after it kicks in."
She nodded quickly, looking away, before breathing deeply and giving him a smile.
"I'm so glad to hear you're alright," she said, kissing his cheek and holding her lips there. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and he could feel her lips moving against his face. "I was so worried. For months and months…"
He gave her a half-smile as she adjusted them so he was lying a bit on the couch, his head on her thigh so she could run her fingers through his hair the way she knew he liked. "Yeah. M'glad to be back."
"And you have to take the doctors' advice seriously, Han. If they say take it easy you really must take it easy."
"Yeah," he said, not looking at her and taking in the cool, soft feeling of her fingers. He couldn't remember the last time he'd lied to her, fuck. "Yeah, for sure, I will."
Carlist approached the couch and gave a sad smile that Han wanted to slap off his face. "Don't you two make an attractive pair," he said, all sympathy and sadness.
"Yes, he's very handsome when he isn't being deliberately obstinate and irritating, isn't he?" Leia quipped, and Han just rolled his eyes and let himself snuggle against her as much as he dared.
"Well: this is all of it," Carlist said, setting the array of medications on the table before her. Han watched her pick each one up, read the labels, frown. She licked her chapped lips and seemed to draw into herself a bit.
"Thank you, Carlist," she said politely. She dipped her head slightly, and Han focused for a second on the ratty nest of hair, braids having been washed over and over with the pins still intact. "I appreciate it. I appreciate you and Mon looking after me. I know that my parents would appreciate it as well." She was focused, he could tell, on some specific non-location on the table, that thing she did to try to center herself. She cleared her throat. "I also would appreciate your leniency with my responsibilities, throughout Han's recovery."
"Of course, Lelila," Rieekan said, frowning. "And your own, as well."
"I appreciate the concern but I'm sure I'll manage," she said, nodding seriously with a polite smile. "Perhaps I can review some of the intelligence I missed remotely, here, from my datapad?"
"Yes – you should have access to all of the briefings, as well as––"
"Han's medical report, good, I'd like to see that, I don't know how convinced I am of the medic's expertise in hibernation sickness to be honest."
Rieekan pursed his lips and nodded. Clearly that hadn't been what he meant.
The alarm rang, and she jumped in reaction, causing him to jump as well. "Just for the pain, Lei," Han said, slowly resting a hand on her shoulder. "Here, I'll get it for you, alright? Sit tight." He poked the little tablet out of its foil and tucked it into her hand. "You just have to set it under your tongue."
She nodded and did so, shutting her eyes briefly before settling them on her hands, now in her lap.
"Lelila…" Rieekan, again, sitting down beside her impulsively and trying to catch her eyes. "You must know, if your parents were here – there's no shame…"
"I hope you can understand that this is a rare moment during which I am very glad my parents aren't here, Carlist."
"Oh, Leia…"
"I have no regrets," she said simply, and Han was a bit startled when she took his hand and squeezed it, scooting much closer to him. "We all returned safe and sound and relatively unscathed, and that's all that matters to me. No regrets at all."
"Of course, but––"
"I don't wish to discuss this any further, I hope you can understand – thank you so much for everything."
Han watched the older man inhale, then nod. "Please reach out if there's anything either of you need."
"Yeah," Han said flatly, moving to show him out. "We will."
When he was sitting back beside her on the couch, she was frowning at the food, moving it with her fork. "I don't remember very much of yesterday, only bits and pieces. Did I make a fool of myself, do you think?"
"Don't think so," he said, shifting awkwardly.
"I have – the vaguest recollection of being in medical, of being in my briefing, but…" She shook her head, examining the sedative's bottle more closely. "I was asleep when you came back?"
"Yeah. Mon was here, looking after you."
"But who was looking after you?" she teased lightly, giving him a half smile.
"Yeah, about that…"
"Here, will you eat some of this? You must be hungry and I don't want it to go to waste." She touched his face again, then burrowed against him. "I'm so glad to see you. I'm so glad you're going to let me take care of you, even if it's briefly. I – I'm sure your body also feels so tired…"
"Yeah," he said distractedly, kissing the top of her head.
"Six months – it's so funny, I always slept alone before Bespin, how a few weeks can create a new pattern and a new need is so…"
"S'that why you're wrapped up in my sheet, princess?"
"The frosty ice queen, so sentimental, how could it be… of course that's why. I missed you, love." She yawned lightly and he realized this was one of those rare, rare times that he was looking at her without any of her makeup on. Without the liner and blush she really did look like a baby, for fuck's sake – how old was she now? Twenty-four? The way she yawned like a little thing, her eyes shutting involuntarily as she did. "The last six months just feel like this haze of loneliness… my mind is so foggy, I'm so sorry… I think what they gave me must've been strong…"
"Yeah, on that subject, Lei, coming here… Mon here, all these meds…"
She didn't reply.
"Think you could uh… clue me in? Just a little."
She didn't pull away, just seemed to – turn to stone, almost, all stiff in his arms. "I told you, I don't really remember much of yesterday."
"All of that is in the past now. There's no use dwelling."
"Yeah, but… I mean… with Rieekan, and Mon..."
"That was for the Rebellion – classified, mm… intelligence…" she murmured, relaxing and nuzzling closer to him. "You're so warm."
"You cold? Lemme get you another blanket."
"You do perfectly well at keeping me warm, Captain."
"Yet, but if you're feverish y'could be chilly…"
"Don't go," she said seriously. "Please, could you just – just sit here with me. Just be with me."
"Alright," he said, frowning a little, but he stayed put.
It was funny – how they were alone now and yet he still very much felt like there was someone in the room. Like he kept looking over her head for someone else.
"Hey – are those meds kicking in? Pain – gettin' better?" Han shifted uncomfortably. "Seemed like your legs were…"
"A little bit better. I should – I should redress, my neck… my hands… have you showered? I suppose I ought to shower..."
"Can redress your bandaging easy, let me do that."
"Okay," she said after a moment of consideration, nodding. "That would be nice."
"Good. Shower first an' then we can do it. I uh – got you some conditioner stuff. If you wanna – with your hair."
He watched her head jerk up, stiff, and she gave a harsh laugh. "I have half a mind to cut it all off."
"Yeah?" he choked out, trying to be casual. He didn't think he could handle that – all that beautiful hair in a trash can, rendered useless crap because of him? Unsanctioned, High Command, remarkable fortitude.
"It wouldn't be hard. Cut right where the plaits begin, then even it out…"
"Don't cut it… why would you do somethin' like that?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.
"Just – I don't want to deal with it… oh, my mother would be – rolling in her nonexistent space debris grave if she knew I was even considering…"
"Seems like a pretty drastic reason to cut your hair." Again: words escaping from his mouth before he could stop them, his heart pounding – just say it, say it, say it.
"Oh, it doesn't matter… I'd never cut it, really… I…" She trailed off, then frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Leia. Just – talk to me."
"I am talking to you," she said, not moving from that position. "I just – I have a headache – I want to shower…"
"What're we dancin' around, sweetheart? Just… c'mon, princess, lemme help you."
"Are we dancing? I'm not dancing…"
"Leia. C'mon. Rieekan, here earlier – he left your briefing crying – Mon being all evasive––"
"I feel light-headed – I want to change from these – med-issued, they're scratchy."
"Leia. Listen to me."
"I'm sorry, I'm just – cold…"
"Leia."
"What?" she snapped, jerking up abruptly. "What – what is it exactly that you want, Han?"
"Hey now, don't get all––!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap – I…"
He stared at her, his heart pounding, his face hot. He could only stutter: "You – I – just – just tell me Leia, just tell me."
She had her knees up to her chest, wasn't looking back at him, her face still pale with that sheen of sweat. "Tell you what."
"You – just – c'mon, the––" His voice was catching in his throat and he gestured clumsily at the salve on the table, "for – I mean––" another gesture, awkward and jerking, at her legs. "I mean, I – they––" More halting, stumbling, his face hotter still.
She seemed to nod, as though that confirmed something for her, as if to say, see, see it isn't easy to say, see and looked away. "Please, can't we just…"
"You said it to all these other people! Why can't you say it to me!"
"There's nothing to say!" she shrieked back. She was standing, now, hugging her waist and pale and sweaty and angry and small. "I don't know why you're so desperate to prove that something's wrong with me! Nothing has been done to me, nothing happened!"
"S'a load of crap," he snapped, even though every voice in his head was saying STOP, STOP, STOP. "Are you – you're mad at me? You're – you're punishing me, 'cause it's my fault, you can't trust me 'cause 'm why this happened, fuck princess––!"
"There is no 'this' – Han, I saved you. I don't know what you're talking about," she choked out mechanically, looking away pointedly, a parody of princess haughtiness. She was really shaking now, the voice saying STOP, STOP getting louder, telling him This is not helping, this is not helping, shut the fuck up Solo before you really fuck this up beyond repair!
"Then what the hell is this for, huh?" he snapped harshly, thrusting the tube out to her as he got to his feet, his hand shaking too – vaginal, anal, internal use only. "They just throw this in with your other crap for fun?"
She stared at him for a second, then snatched it out of his hand and stormed into the 'fresher, her awkward gait a disaster of his fault, slamming the door behind her and, as far as he could tell, bursting into choking, hysterical hyperventilation behind the door.
Han stood in the middle of the room for a second, not moving, stunned. And then within a second it was like he short-circuited, realizing, FUCK, FUCK, what the fuck just I do?! and even saying it aloud, "Fuck!" and racing over to the door.
He gave it several quick raps. "Princess? Open up."
"Go away, Han. I'm fine," she managed to choke out with a little bit of that haughty Ice Queen authority.
"You're not fine, let me in."
"I am fine, and I'd like to take a shower now," she responded curtly, her voice only quivering a little, and he could hear the water turn on. "Please give me some privacy."
"Let me in, Leia – I'm sorry, alright, I'm sorry, m'just – m'worried out of my mind here, okay, m'going crazy, I just gotta know you're okay, ever since Luke told me––"
And then suddenly the door was open.
She was naked except for a thin grey towel, and he kept staring at the wound on her neck – she'd stripped off the bandaging to wash. "Luke, or Lando?"
Han blinked. "Luke."
Leia hesitated, then nodded, bringing her fist to her mouth to gnaw anxiously on her knuckles. "Luke told you what? Luke doesn't know anything."
"He told me he was worrying about you, that he thought somethin' had happened – what about Lando?"
"Nothing."
He slammed his palm against the wall, he couldn't help it, and he felt like shit when she jumped. He groaned, "I can't fuckin' do this, princess, you gotta tell me stuff, I'm going out of my mind––!"
"Nothing, truly, just – he was in the palace, undercover," she said unconvincingly, trying to tilt up her chin. "He saw me in the – outfit. I felt – humiliated."
Han stared at her. "We all saw the––"
She tilted her head to the side and said delicately, "He saw them put me in it."
He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He felt like all of the air had been knocked out of him. He was practically doubled over. For some reason, the specificity of the image – he knew that room, he knew those girls, he knew his friend, he knew Leia, how mortified she'd be to strip before someone she knew – he knew what those guards were like, how they were sloppy with their hands––
"Han, please – this is why…" she said gently, reaching out a hand out to rub his shoulder.
"M'alright," he promised, shaking her off. The fuck didn't that bastard say anything? Had Leia begged him not to – the thought was too awful to bear. "M'alright, m'fine. M'fine."
She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Luke thought something was wrong?"
"Yeah. He was uh – real worried about you. So he talked to me about it."
She gave another nod, looking at her feet. "And what did you tell him?"
"That something was wrong," he said honestly, and she made a devastated, sighing, gasping sound before putting her knuckles back to lips and nodding.
"Han, you have to understand – I just…" She shook her head again, shutting her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. I can't talk about it."
"But you––"
"I know, but it was different – it's – those people already don't see me as a person, they already see tragedy all over me – I didn't have to see their faces I – I can't, Han. Not to you. I can't."
He took a deep, calming breath that was so, so difficult. "Alright."
"I'm so sorry I just – I don't even care, if you read – if you want to read my report, my medical or my briefing, if you feel you must know every detail but I can't – I can't see your face, I – I can't think about it anymore, not again, or else I'll fall to pieces, and we have a war to win and––"
"Yeah, but you're one person, Lei, you can take care of yourself and the Rebellion'll live and––"
"And I also was just – I am so happy, with what we have, with what we've found, I don't want – I can't have that just – taken from me, it isn't fair, not after how long it took and––"
"Yeah but the thing is, sweetheart? Whether or not you talk about it, to me or whoever, s'like – whatever happened, still happened."
"I know. I know. I just – not yet, Han. Please. If you must know, just – you know the password, you can find the report, I'll be humiliated for a while but I will survive but – I don't want to say those words to you. Please. Please respect that?"
He took another hard breath. "Alright. Okay."
"Okay. Now – I think I'm wasting water and––"
"And you've been on your feet for a bit," he added, not unkindly, just honestly, watching how she was sort of squirming in place.
She crumpled a bit, but nodded. "Yes," she admitted.
"C'I – you let me help you?" he asked impulsively, before adding quickly, "Can keep – clothes, or distance, or whatever it takes, make you feel comfortable, but––"
"Okay," she said, surprising him, and she let him inside the 'fresher with her.
She sat down on the lid of the sani in the little thin towel, looking impossibly small and staring up at him, as he made quick work of scanning the room. "You mind if I switch it over to a bath? Might be more comfortable."
She gave a little noncommittal shrug, and he frowned, but did so. The tub was surprisingly narrow, definitely princess-sized but not much else. While it was filling, he moved over to her and frowned again. "Y'let me take out those pins, sweetheart?"
She pressed her lips together and didn't look at him, but finally nodded.
"Alright. Let me know if m'hurtin' you," he said, trying to keep his voice casual, and he very carefully began to long work of taking each one out.
She looked at her hands in her lap, wincing every so often, and Han felt like his heart was breaking. Or liquefying, or being crushed, or something equally horrible. How had she done this to him? Made him care so much that even the slightest flash of discomfort on her face made him fall to fucking pieces?
Once the pins were out, he did his best to untangle some of the braids by hand, but it was pretty futile. "Don't worry," he muttered, "stole half a supply closet of that conditioner stuff, we're gonna get it all fixed up, promise."
"Han Solo, royal beautician," she murmured, half-smiling faintly.
He kissed her temple. "Alright. You ready to get in?"
Another pause, another little nod.
"You uh. You want me to – to turn or not look, or…"
She shook her head in just as slight of a movement, standing up delicately off the sani and letting the towel fall off without much hesitation. She was shaking, a little, but gave him an ironic half-smile. Very har har, so sexy, huh? 'Cause she was all scraped up, and thin, and sticky with sweat and bacta, and razor-burned a bit around her crotch, and still sunburned in too many improbable places to count. And put her hand on his shoulder for a little support, taking a breath and frowning.
"You're beautiful," he said seriously, then cringed a little at how maybe she'd take it as him babying her or something. But it was true – she was always beautiful, and she was beautiful now.
She gave him a wry smile, but nodded. "Thank you. I love you."
He took a deep breath. Now or never, Solo. "I love you too." And suddenly, she beamed.
Han helped her take the few steps over to the tub and get settled in it, sitting on the edge and running his fingers over her damp, vulnerable skin idly. "You comfortable?"
"Yes," she exhaled, her eyes shut. "This feels – really good…"
"Good," he said seriously. "Just relax."
"Mm... you have to let me take care of you too though. Next time – if you need it. Reciprocity, it's part of that whole love thing, you know."
"That whole love thing, princess?" he said skeptically, amused and beginning to work some of the conditioner through all that tangled hair.
"Yes. This. What you're doing right now."
#
One more installment after this one. Your heartfelt comments mean the world, please keep them coming.