The Only Constant
By Erin Darroch and Justine Graham
Chapter 3: Reception
Soft orchestral music drifted through the vestibule as Han and Leia neared the five sets of double doors that led into the Grand Hall. Han fidgeted with the high collar and straightened the rank insignia on his dress uniform jacket for the hundredth time since they'd cleared the wide security perimeter around the Dorthus Tal Parliamentary Palace, the finest location the city could offer to host such a significant event. Leia gripped tightly onto Han's arm as they walked, mainly as a gesture of support but partly to ensure he didn't change his mind and run off in the other direction; everything about his present demeanour pointed to the latter as a distinct possibility.
"You know... it's not too late for me to find a sabacc game down in mid-city. I can always catch up with you later," Han muttered as they paced the last few meters to the entrance, his words confirming Leia's suspicions about his train of thought.
They pulled up just short of the doors and Leia stepped around to face him, conscious of how her new high heels gave her a slightly different perspective on his features. Although he'd striven for a joking tone, she knew him well enough to know that his jest was half-serious; indeed, she'd expected him to have second thoughts long before now. Smiling up at him, she brushed a few specks of lint from his shoulders and stretched up to give him a reassuring peck on the cheek. "No way, Flyboy. I'm counting on you now. And, anyway, you look too good in that uniform. You'd be wasted anywhere else but in a grand ballroom," she declared.
He allowed her sincere compliment to charm a smile back into his eyes and then gave her trim figure the once-over in return. "You're not so bad yourself, Sweetheart."
Leia rolled her eyes at him and then glanced down at herself, admiring her own choice of attire all over again. She was dressed in one of the new formal gowns she'd recently purchased on Chandrila to support her return to a more public diplomatic role. It was pale gold in color and crafted from rich fabrics; brocade on the fitted bodice and long sleeves, dropping to an elegant ruched taffeta skirt, accented by a swirl of diaphanous tulle that draped down to her ankles. It was a stunning creation and a far cry from the drab military uniform and standard Alliance-issue leisure wear she'd been living in for the past few years.
Han seemed to appreciate the garment, too, but for different reasons. "That dress is somethin' else," he rumbled appreciatively. "Can't wait to take it off you."
Leia snorted softly and pivoted around to face the doors again as she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.
"Alright, enough stalling," she said. "Ready?"
"Raring to go," Han muttered as they advanced.
White-gloved attendants swung open the doors to allow them to pass through. The room was vast, luxuriously appointed and lavishly decorated, filled with humans and non-humans alike, all impeccably attired in the finest regalia their unique species dictated. The room was buzzing with a cacophony of sounds, as countless languages merged to create a din that, at times, rose above the strains of delicate orchestral music. Leia took in the room in one sweep; twin refreshment bars flanked both sides of the room, a large dais at the far side held a podium for the guest speakers, and several clusters of casual seating rimmed a broad floor filled with tables for the dinner service. It was all very impressive and very formal.
Leia felt Han tense slightly, and she clutched tighter to his arm. She knew exactly what was running through his mind. It was disconcerting enough for him to be unarmed, uniformed and on display like this, let alone that they were making an appearance as a couple for essentially the first time on the galactic stage, and likely to draw considerable attention as a consequence. Leia was long accustomed to standing in the spotlight, but Han had lingered in the shadows for many years. The fact that he was participating in these events largely for her sake—taking not just a step, but a plunging dive into her world just to be with her and to support the cause so dear to her heart—was not lost on Leia. She loved him like crazy, and never more so than in this moment.
Han dipped his head slightly and bent down to whisper in Leia's ear. "Boy, do you owe me."
Leia fought to maintain her regal composure, suppressing a laugh. Even though he was here of his own accord, she knew exactly how Han would hope to be recompensed for the upcoming tedium of this evening. She didn't mind him maintaining the pretense of reluctance, though, and she certainly wouldn't mind negotiating his compensation. "I'll pay up later," she whispered back.
Stepping over the threshold, they were greeted immediately by a male Drall—an elder, judging by his grey muzzle and the streaks of white shot through his reddish-brown fur; Leia recognized him at once as Yasc Na'Run, the Chancellor of Sacorria. He offered a deep bow to Leia, which she acknowledged with a graceful forward tilt of her head.
"Welcome, Your Highness," Na'Run purred in his low, gruff voice."We are so honored that you could attend. There are a great many here who wish to make your acquaintance." As Leia murmured a polite response, his gaze flicked over to Han for a fraction of a second, then snapped back to give him a closer look, his close-set ears twitching almost imperceptibly as a flash of recognition crossed his fine features. "General Solo," he offered with a nod, "welcome." The Chancellor turned back to impart Leia a flash of compact white teeth in the Drallan equivalent of a smile. "Allow me to procure you refreshments. We have a lovely Daruvvian sparkling wine which I am certain you will enjoy. Please, feel free to circulate among the other guests. I shall return." He repeated his earlier bow, dipping even lower than the first. As he retreated backwards, his clawed hand almost swept the floor.
"Wow," Han observed acerbically as the Chancellor departed. "Judging by that, I'm quite possibly in the same category as the floral arrangements. Purely decorative."
Leia elbowed him in the ribs. "Behave," she chided. "I think you shocked him. Has anyone ever actually seen you in full uniform? And, to be fair, he probably wasn't expecting to see you at all; we didn't give much advance notice that you'd be accompanying me." She gave him a sideways glance up and down, fascinated again by how the clean lines of the uniform hugged his body, accentuating the taper of broad shoulder to narrow hip; he was freshly clean-shaven, and even his normally unruly hair had co-operated for a change, having benefitted from a recent trim. Alliance grey had never looked so good. "Besides, you are looking rather more...ornamental this evening than usual," she teased.
Uncharacteristically, he didn't latch onto her verbal sally with a comment of his own. Instead, he continued to scan the room, as if looking for a suitably dark corner into which he could disappear. Sensing the waves of discomfort that were rolling from him more strongly now, Leia felt the need to express her appreciation for his gesture once again. Angling around to face him, she placed her hand on his chest and fixed him with a serious look. "Han, I can't begin to tell you what it's worth to me, having you here."
He dropped his gaze to hers. "Oh, I know what it's worth, Sweetheart. I'm running a tab." He gave her an exaggerated leer, then broke into a genuine smile at her exasperated chuff of reproval. He caught her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze as his voice took on a more serious tone. "I'm fine, Leia. Don't worry 'bout me."
"Such a scoundrel," Leia admonished under her breath, turning towards the doors and taking his arm once more. She was soothed by his reassurance, and confident now that he would see the evening through with good grace. "Now, smile. Here comes the Ambassador to Duros."
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Smoothing down the skirt of her formal gown and giving her hair and makeup a final check in the mirror, Leia prepared to rejoin the gathering. The evening's festivities were in full swing, dinner was about to be served and the attendants had begun to circulate throughout the room to assist the guests to their assigned seating. Having been introduced to virtually every one of the delegates in the vast hall, Leia had finally excused herself to visit the fresher, leaving Han to chat with the representative from Bantu.
Retracing her steps to the side entrance from which she'd departed the hall, Leia caught the eye of a young human male hovering at the perimeter of the room. He appeared to take note of her return with interest and offered the faintest hint of a nod in her direction as she crossed his path. Before Han had appeared and sprung his surprise, Leia had been somewhat leery of travelling to Dorthus Tal without any sort of personal security to accompany her. Although the power of the Empire was in steep decline and the war was clearly winding down, it wasn't over yet. Leia knew there were still plenty of Imperialists out there who would count her assassination as an honorable act, something to be proud of accomplishing, and she was still always on her guard. It felt risky to be making such a public appearance on a Core World, but she and the Alliance High Command had been assured that Sacorria's stringent law enforcement bureau would provide her with tight, covert security for the duration of the conference. She made a mental note to thank the local authorities for remaining true to their word, and offered the young man a barely perceptible acknowledging nod of her own as she passed.
As she passed over the threshold into the Grand Hall, Leia accepted a drink from a passing attendant and then positioned herself in a relatively quiet pocket of the vast room, enjoying the temporary lull in what had been a nearly continuous string of formal introductions and polite small-talk that she was finding—much to her surprise—extraordinarily tiring.
If I'm so out of practice, I wonder how Han is coping.
Scanning the milling crowd, she located Han not far from where she'd left him, noting that the Bantuan had moved on and Han had now garnered the interest of the emissary from Devaron. The Devaronian's thick mane of brilliant white hair shimmered in sharp contrast to her greenish skin, and she listened attentively and laughed while Han spoke, clearly captivated by the conversation. Once the emissary had taken her leave, Leia watched as Han was approached by a series of several more delegates. He greeted each one in turn, offering a polite bow or a brief clasp of the hand, following the customs of each species and culture he encountered.
Observing Han in action, Leia marveled at what an enigma he truly was; a remarkable juxtaposition of devil and diplomat who never failed to surprise her. Despite the cocky, prickly, and irreverent persona he usually displayed to everyone on first acquaintance, it was clear that he was quite familiar with formal functions such as this and knew how to comport himself. He was, of course, perfectly capable of being an ass if he so chose; in fact, he seemed to exercise that ability with alarming regularity. But Leia knew he recognized the importance of her mission here, and she trusted him to support the work. Indeed, he hadn't inadvertently offended or deliberately provoked anyone—not yet, anyway—nor had he done anything to touch off an intergalactic incident. In fact, he seemed to be charming the socks off everyone he encountered. She smiled to herself.
Making progress, Flyboy.
Watching him, she was reminded of what she knew of Han's early life on Corellia, scant details of which he'd finally confided to her during their journey from Hoth to Bespin a little more than a year ago. Born into a family of wealth and privilege as the heir to one the galaxy's foremost military shipbuilding corporations, his formative years would no doubt have included formal instruction in etiquette, customs and the social decorum necessary to carry himself in these circles. Though he'd chosen at a young age to follow his own moral compass and had adamantly rejected a lifestyle supported by slavery and Imperial oppression, it was clear that those early lessons had been quickly recalled this evening, and it hadn't taken him long to adapt. She observed with admiration how he now appeared to move with relative ease among the distinguished group.
Not only had he seemed to shift from his familiar world into hers as easily as he'd donned that uniform, he was playing his role tonight to polished perfection. In fact, his charismatic presence and power of persuasion seemed to be amassing a great deal of attention for the cause. Though he normally shunned the spotlight, he was indeed a hero of the Rebellion and his many contributions to their most significant victories were now widely acknowledged throughout the galaxy. To Leia's gratification, whispers of conversations she'd overheard indicated that support for the Alliance was solid among the Core officials and growing, and if the tone among the attendees was any indication, she expected offers of manpower and funds to begin streaming in.
Furthermore, Leia was aware of a buzz that surrounded their appearance together. Although she hadn't planned it, she supposed it did amount to a public statement of sorts and the galactic press were probably going to have a field day with it, once the excitement over the conference itself subsided. Leia was accustomed to being a high-profile symbol of the rebellion against the Empire and her status as the last princess of Alderaan attracted plenty of attention at all times. But now that the long war seemed to be drawing to a close, it seemed people were hungry for more frivolous distractions, and her romance with Han Solo would probably fit that bill neatly. She wondered if Han had fully considered those implications when he'd made his offer to accompany her. She doubted it, but she also doubted that he would care overmuch. Certainly, he'd shrugged off far more serious concerns when he'd committed to a life with her. And while Leia wasn't entirely comfortable with their relationship becoming fodder for the galactic gossip channels, she also knew that—in the world of politics, at least—any attention was preferable to being ignored.
As she sipped her drink and watched Han's encounters through her musings, she noticed a sudden change come over him. All at once a shadow crossed his features and his relaxed smile disappeared, replaced by a look of shock and recognition, as his attention became focused on something well beyond those standing near him. Tracking his gaze, Leia's eye was drawn across the room to a human woman who had just entered the Grand Hall, arriving late and without an escort. She was young—perhaps a year or two older than Leia—but she held herself with an air of self-assurance that belied her apparent age. Tall and shapely, dressed in a fitted gown of midnight blue, with her glossy dark hair upswept into a classic style, she looked elegant and sophisticated to Leia's eye. Glancing back at Han, Leia saw the moment when his shock turned into something else—something powerful and strange that transformed his handsome features completely; it was an expression Leia had never before seen on his face, and her mild curiosity over the encounter intensified.
At that moment, an attendant appeared by Leia's side, interrupting her thoughts. "Your Highness," he intoned, "kindly follow me; it is my pleasure to see you to your table."
She turned to thank the man and moved to follow him, glancing back again towards Han. He was on the move now, but not in her direction. Instead, he was angling through the crowd towards the entrance, giving tight nods of acknowledgement to beings who evidently recognized him and spoke to him, but otherwise seeming completely focused on the woman in the blue dress. Turning away from the sight, Leia concentrated on reaching her place at one of the large round tables that filled the central portion of the room. She waited for the attendant to pull back her chair, then took a moment to settle herself in her seat before she glanced towards the entrance again. Han had reached the doors, and there could be no mistake; he'd definitely recognized the young woman who had just arrived. In fact, he was looming over her now, his hand reaching to capture one of hers. The woman clutched at him and stared, her pretty oval face a perfect image of pure shock; her mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she gaped at Han in apparent consternation, mingled with a look of joy and surprise. Even from a distance, Leia could see the woman's pale cheeks color visibly before she flung her arms around Han's neck in a tight embrace.
"Princess Leia, what a pleasure to see you again!" A booming voice from Leia's side dragged her attention away from the scene. She turned her head to see the familiar dark-skinned face of Andros Ortis, the newly appointed Korunnai ambassador to the Galactic Senate—at least, that would be his position, once the war was officially over and that institution was formally restored. Leia greeted Ortis with a warm smile and a clasp of hands, then gave her attention to the rest of her dinner companions as they were seated and exchanged greetings or introductions around the table. Leia's interest in Han's reunion with his old friend was strong, but her diplomatic training came to the fore, and kept her focused on being a gracious guest and performing her role as an ambassador. In fact, she became so swept up in the conversation around the table, she was slightly jolted when an attendant leaned in to fill her wine glass some time later, and said, "I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but will General Solo not be joining us for dinner after all?" He gestured to the empty place beside Leia and awaited her response.
Leia felt a strange emotion ripple through her at the question and noted with some surprise how she could feel her heartbeat suddenly pulsing in her ears. Although she recognized her own response for what it was, she still marveled at it; Han had never given her the slightest reason to feel jealous of other women. Even within the first year of their acquaintance, long before they'd given in to their mutual attraction and embarked upon a romantic relationship, Han had very noticeably curtailed his habit of flirting with every female who passed through his orbit. He'd opted instead to focus all of his amorous attentions on pursuing Leia herself, and in the past two years she'd never seen him give another woman so much as a glance. Giving herself a little mental shake, she smiled up at the attendant. "Yes, I'm sure he'll be along soon. He'd prefer the Corellian brandy, if you still have it available?"
As the attendant bowed in acknowledgement and turned to fulfill her request, Leia cast a quick glance over her shoulder and was relieved to see Han making his way towards her now, accepting the direction of another attendant who, motioning towards Leia, indicated the path he should take. Han's gaze found hers and Leia's experienced eye read the signs of tension there, although by the time he reached the table and took the seat beside her, he'd plastered a broad smile on his face for the benefit of their dinner companions. As he exchanged polite greetings around the table, though, his hand sought hers under the table, entwining their fingers with an intensity that made Leia wonder again at the nature of his encounter with the young woman in blue. Han had a great sabacc face, and his cheerful and charming demeanor would have fooled almost anyone, but Leia could see the strain in his features. She was tempted—only for a moment—to reach out to him through the Force, to get a better reading of his emotional state, but the impulse quickly passed. It wasn't the sort of thing she wanted to get into the habit of doing and, in any case, she wasn't entirely sure that it would be fair to Han to use her advantage in that way. She opted instead to keep the conversation at a superficial level, though she hoped he would decide to volunteer the information that would satisfy her curiosity.
"Hey," she said under her breath, her tone light and teasing. "You okay, General? Or should I call you Ambassador? You've been working the room like a professional."
A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he lifted their joined hands to his lips in a courtly gesture that warmed her heart. As he returned her smile, his changeable eyes twinkled in the light of the hovering glow-lamps. "I think I'll go back to smuggling, Sweetheart," he said. "I'm worn out. I forgot how much hard work goes into acting so civilized."
Reassured by his show of affection and his easy manner, Leia turned her attention back to their companions and, eventually, to the delicious meal when it was served. Beside her, Han continued throughout dinner to act out his adopted role, but Leia couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been profoundly affected by the encounter with the woman at the door, who seemed to have vanished as quickly as she'd appeared. Although there were no obvious outward signs of his discomfiture, as the evening wore on Han seemed increasingly tense until, finally, he seemed to Leia to be radiating distress like a warning beacon. Leia had to acknowledge with some chagrin that, even without actively trying, she was reading his emotional state through the Force.
Instinct told her to save her questions for later, though. Immediately following dinner, she had a speech to give and it was an important one that required all of her attention. Firmly setting aside the unspoken issue with Han and his mysterious acquaintance, Leia turned her thoughts to formulating the appeal that she hoped would sway the hearts and minds of the galactic delegates who filled the room.
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To be continued...
Thanks to beta readers suezahn and YellinYee.