A/N: The things about Bria Tharen in this chapter are all from Wookieepedia. I haven't read any of the EU books, so sorry if something is inaccurate.

Chapter Eight: The Winter Wedding of Wedge Antilles

"I asked and you were born; And like the snow you fall upon me; You've got me begging for some more..."

O.A.R., ""52-50"

--

The cynics believed that all is fair in love and war, but Luke never understood how they could compare the two in the first place. Love was something that all to often got cast aside during times of war. After all, what about war made it possible for love to flourish? It was dark and ugly and evil, and love was everything the opposite. Love, he imagined, though he was unsure he'd ever experienced it before, was bright and beautiful and good.

Han disagreed. He had been in love once before. Her name was Bria, and he spent several months staring into bottomless glasses of Whyren's Reserve trying to forget her. Their love had not been one of the songs that played so often. It was bitter and cold and if their relationship had been anything it was physical, almost animalistic. Bria's fire in the bedroom was only matched by her temper, and even though he hated her more than he loved her, it still hurt when she was finally gone. He understood how someone could compare love and war because to him, love had been war.

After Bria, Han had never wanted to fall in love again. He began his career as a smuggler to protect himself, to give him an excuse to not to stay in one place for too long so he could never be tied down again. He became gruff and cynical and rakish--women could warm his bed, but they could never stay past morning. Women who knew Han Solo knew that he would never have a meaningful relationship with anything other than his Wookiee and his ship. He erected his reputation, his armor, carefully; he wanted to protect himself from ever falling in love again.

Han knew from the very first time he saw Leia that his armor couldn't survive her.

And he finally admitted to himself in the breeze of Oertzen VI that he was in love with her.

Leia was so different from all the other women in the galaxy, the women against whom Han had protected himself. She was regal and intelligent and strong and independent and so many other things he never thought that he wanted in a woman. And she was beautiful, but her beauty wasn't artificial or manufactured or painted-on or skin-deep. Her beauty was real and soft and made its way past the pain in her heart and the tension on her face. Leia, like Bria, drove Han crazy, but unlike Bria, the insanity that Leia inspired was something for which Han begged. He thrived on their arguments, loved the moments where he saw the flash of fire in her eyes and she bit out her most clever retort.

They used to sting, but Han had started to like the pain.

Han had given up hope long ago that his arguments with Leia would be taken at face value by the members of the Alliance. After they returned from Oertzen VI two months ago, he also gave up hope that his friends wouldn't realize that he was in love with the princess. Everyone knew that Han was interested in more than just bedding Leia, but there was talk just the same. He tried to ignore the ongoing wagers and lewd comments from the pilots. He didn't talk about it with anyone, not even Chewie or Luke. But Han did find an unlikely friend in his fellow Corellian, Wedge Antilles. Wedge and Han were not so different from each other. They were both rough around the edges and both excellent pilots and both had reputations for being rakish flirts. But Wedge knew, as Han had unwittingly discovered, that even the most debonair Corellians were capable of falling in love, because Wedge himself had found it in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Rogue Two had fallen in love with Pax Owren, the Ryquin woman that had joined the Rebellion following the death of her child. Leia found Pax a position as a medic assistant and Wedge met her very soon after she joined. He had been injured in the Middle Rim campaign and Pax tended to him when he came out of the bacta tank. Their courtship had taken time. Pax was still healing from the destruction of Ryquin and the death of her infant son, but Wedge, surprisingly, had been patient. He had courted her slowly on Santee and for their first year and a half on Hoth until she finally admitted that she was in love with him as well. Even though the Alliance was crammed into the frozen Echo Base and the location was less than ideal, Wedge had secured the mess hall for an impromptu wedding in military-issued snowsuits and a reception of ration bars. General Dodonna had agreed to officiate, and Rogue Two was beside himself with joy.

Luke marveled that love had managed to find its way through the hells of war at all.

Han knew that it was more common than everyone thought.

"You sure about this, Wedge?" Han asked him the night before the wedding. Had they been anywhere else, the Rogues would have taken him out for drinks at a seedy tap. Instead, they settled for a sober game of sabacc, and Han, Luke, and Wedge had continued to play after the rest of the pilots retired for the evening.

"As sure as anything," Wedge replied, grinning.

"Do you worry ever," Luke asked, "That something is going to happen? Wouldn't it be smart to wait until after the war?"

Luke and Han had become good friends since they met in the Mos Eisley cantina two and a half years ago. He'd watched the kid mature quickly, but he was still so young and years of fighting a war and leading a squadron of pilots had not yet taught him that sometimes it was better not to plan. They were different, Luke and Han, in that respect. Luke wasn't quite ready to shoot first.

"I think about it sometimes," Wedge answered. "But that's exactly why I want to do this now. I love Pax. I fight in a war." His eyes left Luke and he looked squarely at Han, as if he wanted his next point to hit home with his fellow Corellian. "We aren't guaranteed tomorrow to stop fighting and start letting ourselves be in love."

Luke held his breath for a moment as Han eyed Wedge, certain that he wasn't going to take that advice very well. But instead he broke out into a crooked grin and clapped Wedge on the shoulder.

"Well look at you, the philosopher!"

Luke could feel what Wedge as about to ask next, and he knew that Han wasn't going to take it well.

"I think you should tell Leia."

Han's face didn't change as he focused on his sabacc hand, but Luke felt his mood darken.

"Tell her what?"

Wedge placed two cards down on the table.

"You know."

Han glanced up and caught Luke's gaze for a moment. He knew that Luke had given up any passing attraction in the princess long ago, but he still didn't want to offend the kid. Before Han could say anything, however, Luke spoke up.

"I agree with Wedge."

Han shook his head and threw a few more chips into the middle of the table.

"I'm not gonna tell her."

"Why not?" Luke protested, throwing some of his own chips in as well.

Han was quiet for a moment, staring intently at his sabacc hand. He knew exactly why not, and he was sure Luke knew as well. As much as Han loved Leia, he couldn't stay much longer. One of the Rogue pilots had come back from a recent shore leave with the news that Jabba had increased the bounty on his head. Han was many things, a gambler, a smuggler, a cynic, but he was not a man that begged out of debts. He had given his original reward credits back to the Alliance, but Rieekan had insisted on paying him a meager pilot's salary after he decided to help, and he finally had enough to settle with the crime lord. It would be a dangerous job, but Han knew enough of Jabba to know that the Hutt liked him enough to give him another chance, even if it took some aggressive negotiation.

But he also knew enough of Jabba that the Hutt hated him enough to kill him the second he set foot in the palace.

He couldn't offer Leia the love of a dead man.

"Because, Kid," he said finally, "I'm not gonna be around for much longer." He threw down his hand and stood up from the table. "I win."

Wedge and Luke could only shake their heads as Han walked away.

If Han had left his friends in a surly mood, he had calmed entirely the next morning. He was the first to stand up and cheer as Dodonna pronounced Wedge and Pax husband and wife, and it was his suggestion that they throw open the shield doors and let the celebration move from the cramped hangar bay to the relatively bearable snow outside of the base. Rieekan agreed, but only because recent careful surveillance had reported a decrease in native species activity and because the planet had been without snowfall for several days. The Rebels welcomed the opportunity to go outside in the bright sunlight and forget about the war, if even for a moment. Everyone donned their fur-lined parkas and joined Wedge and Pax for their first dance in the snow.

Han, Luke, and Chewie were standing beside each other, watching the newlyweds as they danced. Leia, who had been standing with Rieekan, spotted them and made her way through the crowd to her dearest friends. They greeted her warmly.

"They look so happy," Leia mused as she stood between them and snaked an arm around each man's waist.

"It's amazing how love managed to find its way through such tragedy," Luke agreed.

Han smiled a little at that and glanced down at Leia, who to his surprise was already looking at him. She dropped her head immediately and he saw her cheeks flush ever so slightly, but he told himself that it was the cold.

The four of them watched the dance before them, and neither Han nor Leia suspected Wes Janson's presence behind them until Luke suddenly broke away and spun around in enough time to tackle his fellow Rogue and prevent him from putting a well-formed snowball down the back of Leia's parka. As Luke and Wes went down, Han, Leia and Chewie were suddenly ambushed by snowballs. Leia turned in time to see at least Hobbie Klivian, Tycho Celchu, and Biggs Darklighter coming after them, but she had no time to react because Han had grabbed her arm and they began running for cover behind a nearby snowbank. They dove behind it together, laughing, and Han immediately began scooping up snow for ammunition of his own.

"Quick! Make snowballs!"

Grinning, Leia did as she was told, and they were soon joined by Luke, Chewie, Wedge, and Pax. The group very quickly had enough snowballs to put up a rather formidable defense, especially considering that Chewie's snowballs were about twice the size of the others. Each grabbing an armful, the group made their way from behind the bank, hurling snowballs blindly as they were pelted by the rest of Rogue Squadron.

Leia had a great arm and was able to hit her target with every throw, but she was soon out of ammunition. Han laughed as he noticed, threw his own last snowball and hit Wes square in the face, and motioned for Leia to follow him behind the base so they could plan a sneak attack. They both collapsed in laughter as soon as they were safely behind the cover of the shield generator, lying next to each other in the snow.

"I feel like a little girl," Leia said with a giggle. Han didn't know she could giggle. He smiled back but said nothing, suddenly captivated by the princess and his proximity to her. In the white light reflecting of the snow, he could see a hint of a scar over her left eyebrow, a souvenir from Oertzen IV, when she had cut her head against the ground as the restaurant exploded behind them. He remembered bandaging that cut as soon as they were safely in hyperspace, how she had thanked him for shielding her from the explosion...

Han's eyes fell from Leia's scar to her lips. Her smile had faded as she studied him, but she wasn't unhappy. Instead she was expectant, maybe even nervous. He forced himself to look back into her eyes, and her own gaze traveled from his lips to lock eyes with him. Han took a deep breath. He wanted to kiss her, wanted so desperately to feel her lips on his. Did she want it, too? He tested her. He moved his mouth closer to hers and she didn't pull away. Slowly, he inched towards her, his heart pounding in his ears, closer, closer, closer. She turned her head ever so slightly, offering him a better angle, and he titled his own, his lips just millimeters from descending on hers.

Suddenly, Leia gasped and sat up quickly, staring wide-eyed at the sky. Han swore under his breath and then turned, reluctantly, to see what had startled her. Leia was already scrambling to her feet. He stood up as well and his own jaw dropped at the sight. It was a ship, rounded, formidable, and rather elegant, lacking the sharp edges of an Imperial vessel, and it was being cleared for landing in the hangar bay.

"Han," she breathed as she stepped towards the approaching shuttle. "That's the Resplendent! That's my father's ship!"