I've been aimlessly wandering around the house for the last five days. I saw it again Sunday night. I don't know.
I go from being angry (very very angry) that Disney and JJ could hurt people I care about to then being overcome by grief.
Tumblr is emotional cutting at it's best. I can't handle watching Empire Strikes Back yet. I got through New Hope on Friday, that was rough.
OH OH! Also, where the f* are Han's bloodstripes in TFA!? WHY ISN'T HE WEARING THEM! AHHHH! My brain is melting with unanswered questions!
Anyway, here we are. We get a bit darker after this. Fair warning.
"Did she just say 'sorry'?" Han stood pointing incredulously at Mon Mothma's retreating form.
"I think so." Leia squinted.
"Huh. Sorry for what?"
"Exactly." Her jaw twitched. Reaching around to her utility belt, she pulled out a small spanner and turned back to the Falcon's hull. She felt Han stride up beside her and shifted her eyes slightly to watch his tall frame duck down underneath where she was tinkering.
"What are you working on?" He asked after a moment.
"The coolant is leaking. I don't know why."
"Did you run the line?" He traced the blue tinted mess streaking the outside of the ship with his thumb.
"I was just about to." Leia answered quietly, distracted by his hands running over the metal in front of her face. She loved those hands.
"Here, I'll do that," he took the spanner from her gently, shaking her out of her thoughts. "You go call Luke back."
"But I don't-"
"I know. But we're leaving first thing tomorrow, Sweetheart."
Leia stood watching Han's back as he turned away from her, focusing on his crotchety ship instead; giving her time to heal the only family she had left.
"I'll be inside." She said quietly.
Her boots padded softly up the lowered ramp, she didn't know what to say to Luke.
She wanted, on some level, to tell him about her fears, about the darkness which bloomed suddenly in her heart, whispering to her. But, if she did that, would he ever really truly look at her the same way again?
Perhaps she had been with Han too long. Maybe he was rubbing off on her more than she realized - but then again, Leia argued with herself as she pressed the door shut in the cockpit and settled down into the pilot chair - she had always been a 'solve your own problems' kind of person, so why should this be any different? Because you know exactly what you are dealing with, her heart worried back for her. She did too. She felt it. These days more than ever. Why? She didn't know. Perhaps it had always been there; hidden, lurking in the background of her soul. Darkness. A power waiting to be touched, let free, utilized. Used.
She had felt it first standing before the funeral pyre on Endor.
The pyre which Luke had built.
The final resting place of Darth Vader.
Luke had found peace standing before the fire, watching the flames lick and dance into the night. He had claimed to have found solace in the fact that he believed the blackened body resting there was that of Anakin Skywalker, not the armor clad monster who had wrecked havoc across her life. No longer Vader. But their father all the same.
Han hadn't gone and still didn't know that she had. She left at night alone, easy enough to do with the party going as strong as it was. Han had been exhausted, falling asleep long before her, wrapped around her like ivy until his limbs finally loosened and the crushing grip he kept on her slowly gave way as he fell towards sleep. She had watched him, at war with herself. He would come with her if she asked. He wouldn't want her to go alone. The clearing wasn't far, but emotional toll of that journey would have concerned him.
He hadn't said much when she told him about Vader. Confided in him the horrible truth Luke had forced on her the evening before the battle. She sat across from him, holding herself apart. Knowing who and what she was was bad enough but to feel him pull away from her would be unbearable. Better to sit alone. Clinical. Calculated. She didn't mince words, had spoke quickly, clearly and then closed her eyes - unable to bear watching him leave her, as she knew in her heart he should do. When she opened them, he still sat there, leaning forward, watching her with careful, worried eyes. He hadn't abandoned her. A sob had caught in her throat and he was beside her at once, gathering her to him, murmuring over and over again that nothing changed. That it didn't matter. He loved her. He wasn't going anywhere. She was still the same person she had always been.
Except that she wasn't. She would never be again.
Leia felt hot tears prick her eyes in memory.
Hindsight being what it was, she knew now that going alone to that place had been a horrible idea.
Leia picked up Han's use-worn piloting gloves which lay across the console near the viewscreen. Turning the soft leather over in her hands she let her vision blur.
She could feel the heat from the fire, the rise of smoke and ash filling the air. She could see that masked face gleaming in the orange glow. She had screamed at it. Hurled anger towards the dead creator of all her pain. She had watched him burn for hours. Unable to look away. It stared slowly, a faint ripple under the surface of her mind. An aphotic bloom with crept through her fragile heart. Her breathing changed - chest expanding. The world sharpened around her. Crispness tingled down her fingers. She allowed the feeling to expand. A voice, vaguely familiar, called to her. Whispering seductively in her brain. The hair on the back of neck rose up in warning. No, she thought. And as quickly as it had started, the darkness retreated.
She had sat and stared for a long time after that simply watching the monster slowly melt away before her eyes. When the chill of the forest night finally reached her through the layer of pain and anger, she stood. Legs heavy. And, with a hissed curse at the corpse flaming in front of her, she left.
She hadn't poured ale on the pyre; as she should have to ease her father's passing. She hadn't prayed for him; not like she had for Bail as she had sat alone on the roof of the old temple on Yavin4 before joining the merriment of the metal ceremony.
By the time she had trudged back to the village, her body was reeling from the crushing weight of injustice and resentment warring inside her heart. She wished she could be more like Luke, able to look beyond what had happened and find some sort of peace. But she wasn't like Luke and she couldn't do that. So, she did what she knew how to do; she buried the darkness blossoming in her soul and moved on. She had slipped back to the Falcon undetected, and easily back into Han's arms. Sleep wouldn't find her, as she lay awake listening to the steady breathing of the man her father had taken away from her. The man she had risked everything to get back. The man who knew who and what she was. The man who was still here with her.
Han was her champion against the darkness. Nightmares which plagued her were silenced in his arms. The darkness neither hissed nor called to her. With him, she was safe.
It didn't last though. New enemies of old friends had found a way to bring the darkness crashing cold down around her once more. They had taken her light away. Sent him on extended missions and trade disputes. Kept him from her. Allowed that whisper to become clearer. Louder than it was that night at the pyre. The darkness had found her again. Alone one night at the apartment she shared with Han. She was alone, having heard nothing from him for weeks - deep as he was into the outer rim worlds.
She awoke, the voice hissing quietly at her. Inviting her to become unsure. It pulled her through a whiplash of pain and suffering.
Tears had tracked down her face at the onslaught of memory the bleak nothingness hurled at her: Han's voice echoing through the chamber at Bespin. Luke's loneliness at the loss of Obi Wan and his joy at forming Rouge Squadron. Han's arms around her. Her own terror on Ord Mantel. Han's hands soft on her neck. Winter's laugh. Bail's voice calling her name over and over like a looped distress signal. Leia panted and cried. She tried to push the fear down like she always had before. But this time it wouldn't leave.
The images had started to speed up. She felt dizzy, leaning up against the headboard, trying desperately to find purchase in her bleak surroundings.
Unable to stop them, she instead bowed her head and allowed the memories to wash over her, feeling all too much all too quickly.
Vader's breathing in the confines of her cell. Han's eyes watching her. Bail's face. Her room overlooking the lake. Han's hands winding through her hair. Luke's lightsabre. Han's anger on Hoth. Luke in the bacta tank. The shield doors sliding shut. Chewie's grief. Vader's shadow hunting her. Han's voice. His breath, hot on her face. Cloud City. Lando. Vader. Han. Endor. The pyre. Han's hands on her shoulders. Their tangled night together on Bakrua, the way he held her, the feel of his rough cheek on her stomach. Steam. Han, bound and helpless, lowering slowly into the chamber below her feet. The weight of him on top of her, his eyes in the morning light. The feel of him inside her. Moving. Always moving. His screams on the scan-grid. Vader's masked face turning towards her. Alderaan.
She had woken again sometime later; gasping for breath, voice hoarse from screaming, hands numb, freezing cold. She had mediated that night. Stealing into Luke's apartment. She had sat on his balcony, feeling the grass beneath her. Grounding her and filling her heart with a calm familiarity. She had been safe there. Luke found her the next morning. He hadn't said anything. Hadn't asked why she had broken into his home in the middle of the night to sit on this balcony alone. That was something she had always loved about him. He was happy to simply let her be content. He had always been that way. Safe. But now? What did he think of her. Did he sense it? Could he feel that indecision? The anger? What would they think of her?
Her hands were cold.
Leia dropped the gloves onto her lap. Was this darkness too? Fear was of the dark side. She knew that much, Luke had told her so time and time again. Was she afraid? Yes. How could she not be? Surely not all anger and fear led down the path her father had taken. Surely there was room in the Force to be... human? She had thought by rejecting it entirely it would not touch her. Perhaps that was misguided.
Punching the code, the comm snapped to life and she waited. Luke answered on the fourth tone. "Leia?"
"I'm sorry." she whispered, picking with the gloves again, running her fingers obsessively over the palms of them. A nervous habit.
"Hey. Look, I'm on my way down. You don't need to be sorry. I shouldn't have tried to push you. I know that."
"This place is making me crazy." She exhaled.
"It's been a long week." he agreed.
"It has, hasn't it?" she smiled at the speaker.
"I'm just outside the hanger. I'll see you in a minute. I'll just say 'hello' to Han first."
"Okay, take your time." The line went dead. Craning her neck around the front view screen she saw him, R2 trailing behind slightly. She watched him wave - at Han she presumed. and disappear under the ship.
She stood and made her way out into the lounge, feeling better; lighter.
The galley was full to bursting. Fresh food and emergency ration crates crammed every last corner of the forward hold and spilled into the corridor where they then mixed with boxes of clothes and personal affects which had been added haphazardly over the last two days.
It would take her days - if not weeks - to organize everything. But, she thought happily as she reached for the packages on the top shelf, there really was nothing else she'd rather do. The glanced at her chrono and knelt down in the middle of the chaos.
Luke would be taking repairs with Han for ages; there were never any shortage of those to discuss.
If she, Han and Chewie were going to live here - and presumably they would for a least a while - they needed all the room they could get.
xXx
"Hey kid." Han nodded as Luke waved a hand at him, grinding out words passed the spanner clenched in his teeth.
"Still leaking, huh?"
"Still or again. I'm not sure. Kriff!" He cursed and dropped the bolt.
"I can either help or get out of your way. Your call." Luke grinned.
"Hand me that gasket, would ya?"
Luke smiled.
"I'm going to miss you, you know. Both of you."
Han was silent for a moment, fitting the new seal against the piping. He cranked it over and turned to face his friend.
"I know. This has all happened so fast. Not that I regret it." Han added quickly.
"No, I know what you mean. Still. She needs to get out of here. And she needs you. There's really no other option."
Han glanced over his shoulder at the cockpit - empty by the look of it - and nodded. "Not really."
They were silent for several minutes, Han watching the new seal for any sign of seepage while Luke plugged R2 into the Falcon's main comm cord and had him run a full diagnostic report.
"Luke?" Han said quietly, resting above his hand on the Falcon's hull. The younger man turned towards him, blue eyes clear. "How do I help her?"
"Honestly, I have no idea."
"Oh great, thanks."
"Look," suddenly defensive. "I've tried. You know I-" Han shot him a sharp look and gestured for him to lower his voice. "You know," Luke started again, quieter this time. "That I have tried to help her come to terms with all of this."
"This isn't about Vader, Luke." Han spat. "Not everything is about him."
"Isn't it?" Luke raised his eyebrows in question.
"She's told you before. She's fine."
"She's not 'fine', Han. She's angry and she's afraid."
"With good reason!" He hissed back. They had been dancing around the same argument for years.
"She can't afford to be angry. It will do too much damage. You know that. She knows that!"
"I trust her."
The finality of Han's words hit him like a punch in the gut. His mouth opened and closed. Trust.
"I know you do." He finally was able to reply, quietly. "I trust her too. Both of you."
"Then why hurt her? Why attack her with the same information over and over again? What good does that do?" Han snarled, advancing on him by several steps. Luke stood his ground. They were back to this again, were they?
"I'm not fighting with you again about this. I apologized for my actions before - to both of you. You asked for my help. That's what I am trying to do."
"No." Han stabbed a finger at him. "You're trying to push your own agenda. I won't let you harm her. Not again."
"That's the last thing I would ever want to do! But I know how it feels, Han! And I don't want that for her!"
Han said nothing. His chest heaved. He had wanted a simply answer to a simple question. More fool he, since he knew more than anyone how helping Leia was never simple.
"She's not evil, Luke." He replied quietly after a moment. Luke stepped towards him, coming with an arm length of the older man.
"Is that what you think of me? That I would come here and condemn her like that? Really?"
Han had the grace to look mildly ashamed before he squared his jaw stubbornly.
"I am not evil. Yet, I felt it. I stood before Darth Vader and the Emperor and I allowed them to manipulate me. The dark side is easy, Han. It feels... safe. Strong. So when they threatened to harm Leia, I gave into it. To protect her. That's what they wanted. I was able to save myself from it. It didn't consume me. But this," he pointed upwards indicating the woman above them. "Is different."
Han let his head fall backwards. "I didn't know that." he said quietly, tracing lines in the Falcon's hull.
"What? That they threatened to hurt her? Steal her away? Keep her. Harm her? Turn her?"
"I didn't know." Han repeated.
"I would never, never let anything happen to her. They knew that, and they used it against me. Just as they would have used you against her."
Han's head snapped back at that.
"What?"
"Think about it. You know what I mean. She would do anything to protect you. Especially since she feels so responsible for everything that has happened to you already. If they had known, if Vader had sensed her on that platform on Bespin, if he had offered her your life in exchange for hers, you think she wouldn't have taken that deal?"
Han's breathing had spiked. He had never thought of the dark side in those terms before. It made it more dangerous. More... realistic. It wasn't a clear right or wrong decision he had always imagined it to be. He could see it, clearly acted out in front of him. She would do it. So would he. He would trade - and had traded - her safety, her life and well being for his own. No question. Damn.
Luke watched the play of emotion run across his friend's face. The awareness, the horror written so clearly across his eyes.
He knew now. He understood what they were up against. All of them.
"Okay." Han swallowed. "So, how do I help her?" He asked again.