Another fast update, I hope you don't mind, I just can't help myself!

21

Leia supposed she thought she would feel different. Or rather she'd had thoughts – not strong thoughts, but thoughts – about marriage, that had led her to think it would feel high-stakes, that it would stir something within her. And it didn't, not really – it was more like a much-needed period at the send of a sentence rather than an unexpected exclamation point. She loved Han so much, more than she thought possible and almost in a way that made her feel destabilized, just because their love affair was such a slim proportion of their entire relationship and were there other things in her life that would reveal themselves to be true all along, secrets desires everyone saw coming but her? So in that way – that slimness – she should've felt – exhilarated, maybe. She had cried, quite a bit, but it was because he'd chosen to this now, before going off into battle, it was so cliché and terrible and romantic and serious. But she had no desire to articulate dramatically with her left hand only, to spin the makeshift ring and squeal to herself.

She was afraid of this calmness, this lack of different-feeling. Did it mean the intuition deep inside her knew he'd never return and they'd never be married so there was no reason to spend more emotional energy on it than the hysterics she'd expended in the moment? Did it mean the intuition deep inside her knew everything would be alright and of course they'd be married and it wasn't so much of a fuss? She felt like an explorer trying to read an atlas of her own impulses without a key. She felt drenched in a kind of turbulent dissociation from her usual rationality. She felt faintly embarrassed that she'd so easily had her spirits lifted by a proposal that, her gut was telling her, was either pointless or inevitable. He better not get used to this – better not anticipate if he brings her a bouquet of flowers from Endor that she'd burst into tears. Or better not get used to it occurring once her body stabilized again. His blubbering bride…

Stupid, stupid, stupid! A voice in her head was railing as she walked briskly towards Command. Stupid, naïve – you have no idea if he'll make it out alive – if Luke will make it out alive. What was she doing, fantasizing about afterwards as though she was promised it, as though she was entitled?

This was something Leia knew about war: she wasn't entitled to anything. Clothes that fit her? A body under her control? The ability to plan more than fifteen minutes in the future? Nothing, not for her, no guarantees.

And she didn't know too if she could trust Han's insistence that everything would be okay – that's what was so especially hard. Trust wasn't the wrong word, but she could sense he wasn't truly telling her what he believed. Trying to protect her, protect the chemical balance of a body in which a very small person resided. Maybe a part of her felt like she needed that protection. She did feel out of balance, off her game. But she wished she could take it at face value when he told her he believed she'd be okay.

It was so funny – one moment she was elated, gushing, emotional. But the minute they'd taken off, the cold feeling returned. Han had been right in that she appreciated having a token – she kept running her thumb over the ring. She was worrying it, fussing. The houseguest was fussing inside her. She was helpless. She was worried.

"Princess," Carlist said as a hasty greeting, ushering her to her seat at a Command module. She was directing what would be the outer perimeter of fighters – not Lando, thank gods, she couldn't be responsible for the Falcon, it would be like being responsible for the survival of Han's baby – and, well, she was already doing that, she couldn't handle doing so twice.

Leia tried to lower herself into the seat gracefully, which was mostly a bust, but she set on her headset and rubbed her eyes a bit. "Any word on how the shuttle's doing, do you know?"

"None yet. But that doesn't point one way or the other."

"Hm," Leia said neutrally, trying not to let too much emotion show.

Carlist shifted awkwardly. "I know it isn't my business, but I feel responsible – I sincerely apologize that the couple had such a dramatic change of heart. I could never have guessed they would do such a thing."

"Thank you," Leia said simply, affixing her headset better against her crown of braids. She thought of the girl who had wailed in his office – I can't, I can't, I can't! She'd never felt so helpless except she had, watching Alderaan's destruction. Helplessness surprised her every time.

"If you need any more help––"

"After," she said firmly. "I can't talk about this right now."

"Of course." He gave her a close-lipped sad smile, then nodded at her hand. "When did you become engaged?"

"Recently. Bit of a pre-battle stunt, really," she teased.

"Ah, that makes more sense – normally news about you two travels very fast."

"You can't believe everything you hear, you know," she said with a tired half-smile.

"Well – congratulations, then." He shook his head a little, looking – tired, old, weary – but somehow optimistic. "If your parents could see you…"

"Oh! They'd be scandalized!"

"I think they'd be very impressed that you've managed to find your own happiness amidst this all. If you don't mind my saying though."

Leia scrunched up her face and squeezed her eyes shut to avoid any tears. "I do mind – you mustn't say things like that to me – I don't know why everyone feels the need to say the kindest, most emotional things to me, it's just awful, my disciplined wartime face is so fragile right now…"

"Well then – let me just say I look forward to seeing you both on the other side of this, Lelila," Carlist said. "And to celebrating then."

She let him hug her shoulders, but afterwards trained her eyes more firmly on the displays in front of her. Celebrating then – something in her stomach was turning. She couldn't explain it. But still, she ignored it. "Red Leader, Green Leader, Gray – this is Command, do you copy? – Excellent, fantastic. No word on the shuttle yet but we're going to drill attack formations based on the schematics until they're muscle memory – I want you to be able to see the readouts of that space station on the inside of your eyelids and you will by the time we're ready – listen closely and prepare for instruction, on my word…"

XX.

"Don't you laugh at me, Solo!" Evaan scowled, pointing at him. "You're in a very precarious position you know, it's not the time to get on my bad side…"

"Sorry, sorry, I just – ah…!" Han rasped, unable to hide his grin even from this fucking terrible spot upside-down with his wrists bound. "Never thought I'd see you – in a dress…"

Chewie roared an admonishment.

"What! Don't she look like a fuckin' – fuckin' – woodland fairy princess, shit Verlaine!" Han kept gasping, shaking his head.

"You're about to be sacrificed you know, you might want to consider who has the relationship with these guys," Evaan said haughtily, shifting uncomfortably in the much-too-small animal skin dress.

"You guys are wasting time!" Luke whined.

"Threepio, tell them Solo finds their enforced fashion choices laughable – see what they say," Evaan snapped.

"Hey! I think you make a great woodland fairy princess!"

"Save it, moon jockey," Evaan said, but she rolled her eyes and conceded. "Alright, Threepio – tell them to set 'em free." Threepio started to so but, as more wood began to be piled on to pit, though, Evaan left her post immediately and lunged forward to pull the wood off. "Hey! The droid's telling you to set them free – this is not what free looks like."

The furry creatures pointed their spears at her, and she put her hands up.

"Actually it appears to be a very noble interpretation of the concept of freedom," she said slowly, standing up very careful and moving beside the captives.

"Thanks for the attempt," Luke said as Evaan's hands were bound as well.

"Don't mention it."

Luckily for them, Luke's trick with the Force worked well – unluckily for Evaan and much to Han's delight, the Ewoks remained insistent that she wear the outfit they'd picked out for you. "Don't seem so bad, dressed like a girl," Han said as the group relaxed in one of the Ewoks' many huts. "Kinda… softens ya, makes you seem less like you'll bite my head off?"

"Do you always insult women as faux-flirting, or do you just like insulting them unrelatedly?" Evaan asked, rolling her eyes.

"Please. This ain't flirting. Or insulting! Just par for the course!"

"Let me know how it goes when you tell Princess Leia Organa that she looks less threatening in girls' clothes," Evaan said, snorting.

"Hey. Her Worship likes when I push 'er buttons."

"Uh-huh."

"Hope she's alright…" Han said, frowning a little and fiddling with the beacon in his pocket.

"Why wouldn't she be? She's probably worried sick about you, but at least you have the security of knowing she's with the fleet."

"Yeah I know I just – she seemed uneasy, when we left…"

"More like uncomfortable. I have no idea how she even gets out of bed, she's so – front-heavy, now. She's so tiny, it just feels disproportionate."

"S'Leia, duty calls. Y'know, all that."

"Ah yes, 'all that.' A commitment to justice, you know, all that crap."

"Hey, I think we can both agree she could stand to be a little less committed to justice. Least for the next – what is it, three weeks?"

"That's soon."

"Yup."

"But then this whole thing will be – done with?" Evaan asked carefully, cocking her head.

"Mighty personal questions you're asking there, Verlaine."

"Well alright, you can have a free one. Ask me something."

He frowned, then shrugged and said casually, "Y'still have feelings for her? Lei, I mean – s'alright if you do, just curious."

Evaan raised her eyebrows. "That is personal."

"S'not a big deal or anything."

"Well, I'm glad I would have your permission." She shook her head a little, frowning. "I don't think so, not like that. I don't – really know if they were ever, quite like that. I think – she needed someone familiar and someone whose loyalty she felt like she had, so she could let go in front of them and they wouldn't desert her," Evaan said slowly. "And I think I wanted my home back, to have been able to save it, and thought I could get it by being with her and giving her anything she needed."

"S'a little fucked," Han stated bluntly.

"I'm sure if she thought you really wouldn't judge her for crying in front of you she would've preferred to sleep with you. Not because of the man thing but because, you know, she liked you, all that."

"Thought I'd judge her?"

"Wouldn't you have?"

Han considered that. "I dunno. Guess I've changed a lot since then."

"She has too, you're not alone in that." Evaan paused, then frowned and nodded at where Luke was standing, apart and somber. "And so has Skywalker, as it were – used to be so happy-go-lucky and now I've never seen anyone so solemn… war changes people."

"I better go talk to him," Han said, getting up. "F'I don't you see 'til the morning – make sure you find your uniform, think you're not too mobile in that thing, huh?"

"In my defense, it's made for someone half my size. Princess Leia sized, really. Pre-pregnancy, of course."

"Think she'd wear it better, huh?"

Evaan smiled. "She'd make it work. Always was really good at making the best of things."

"Hey," Han said, watching as Luke drifted out to the walkway. "Do me a solid and get Threepio to ask the furballs about supplies and whatnot?"

"Yes, General," she teased, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"Hey kid," Han said awkwardly, greeting Luke out on the bridge. "What's eating you?"

Luke nodded up at the Death Star.

"Daddy Dearest up there?"

"He is."

"Not for much longer," Han asserted confidently, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Luke scowled. "I don't want to kill him, Han, I want to turn him."

"I don't get that," Han admitted. "You got – not quite a whole family but more family than I've ever had, hells – Leia's your sister, you got all your friends too – what do you need him for?"

"Killing is just…" He shook his head. "It's not the Jedi way."

"Well, if it's Not the Jedi way…" Han said, his voice coming out a bit more acid than intended. Luke said nothing, so Han frowned. "Hey uh… you can – c'you feel Leia?" he asked after a moment.

"A little, yes."

"She feel okay?"

"I think so. Uneasy. But safe."

"You mind telling her that we're alright?"

"It doesn't really work like that…"

"Well however it works, just – give her a sign, alright?"

"Alright," Luke said, smiling a little, but faintly.

Han shifted again. "Wanna know something?"

"What's that?"

"Asked her to marry me. Before we left."

Luke's smile broadened. "Did you really?"

"Uh-huh." He cracked a crooked grin. "So I guess you gotta make it outta here to be her maid of honor."

"Oh, I'm not best man material?"

Han raised his eyebrows. "No offense kid, you're alright but you're no Chewie."

"Fair enough." Luke looked up again, pondering. "I wonder if I'll ever find someone like that. If we make it out of here."

"Like Chewie?"

"No, like you and Leia." He shrugged a little. "The Jedi used to be celibate, but…"

"You will," Han said simply, surprising himself.

Luke was surprised to, and turned to him. "You think?"

Han nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Didn't ever think I'd find someone like Leia. Or even that I wanted to. But then it kinda – all made sense."

"That's probably one of the most sensitive things I've heard you say, Han."

"Hey! I'm plenty sensitive."

"Sure."

"Go ask your sister, she'll tell you all about how sensitive I am."

"Ugh, you're so gross."

"Nah, you all love it," Han said, clapping his back absently. They stood in silence for a moment, then Han cleared his throat. "You really gotta face him, huh?"

"Yes," Luke confessed. "If not for the Rebellion..."

"Then for the houseguest, yeah, I got it. Just wanted to be sure." Han frowned, then asked, "C'I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You remember when you first heard her call it that?" Han asked. "'Houseguest', just – never really – got where it came from."

"Oh – I don't really remember, I think it was something about – the fleeting nature, of everything, all her relationships, at that point," Luke recalled. "'Someone else to come and go, something else to leave me.'"

XX.

The first stitch came when Luke took the first step to surrender to the Imperials, though she wouldn't know that until later, until afterwards. Also, if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't really the first stitch – there'd been sort of cramps, sort of spasms, something like that brewing uneasily since – well, since the meditation exercise, every so often, every few hours, not enough to make her stop and take notice. Leia didn't know how exactly she believed the Force fit into everything she'd experienced in her life but later she would agree that yes, something had been – thrown into action, thrown off course, irrevocably changed, when Luke concretely made that decision. "Altered his destiny."

Part of why she didn't give it much thought is because of the headache she'd had through the whole evening, which had been sleepless, she'd stayed up all night doing strategy. It was like something was skillfully but delicately picking away at her head with a scalpel, methodically testing her mental defenses, sampling the toughness of her mind. A blinding headache, right behind one of her eyes and coupled with nausea, such that when her lower back joined in causing her suffering it almost felt it was merely a guest at a party showing up late.

She took a moment to let it settle, regrouped. Tried to patch through to contact Luke or Han or Evaan – she'd been doing so for hours without success, but couldn't help but trying. Then she scoured the records from the past twelve hours or so for any indication of something gone awry – nothing.

Face scrunched up in pain from the headache, hand firmly on her lower back, she called out, "What information do we have on the ground team? When have we last had communication?"

"Comms have been jammed for hours, Your Highness," a recruit answered immediately.

"Right – yes, I know that I – before that, did we have any updates about Commander Skywalker specifically? He was with the group?"

"As far as we know, Your Highness – why?"

"Just a feeling… my apologies, resume your post-t-t-t…" That same blinding pain behind her eye, also percolating yet again in her lower back, causing her to pause and scrunch up her nose and grimace.

"Are you alright, Princess?"

"Fine," she managed after it reached its peak and passed, realizing she was leaning hard on her chair. "It's a migraine, I had them as a child – I'm fine." She straightened up and nodded firmly. "I'm going to – splash some water on my face, I'll be back in a moment."

Leia walked briskly from the Command center to the nearest 'fresher. When she sat down on the sani – she had to pee so often these days, might as well take the opportunity to do so now – she had to frown, though. "What…?" At this point she was used to her vagina taking every opportunity to surprise her but this sort of discharge-like – substance in her panties was definitely a new one…

She shut her eyes and rested her head against the door to the stall. All of this would be over soon. The migraine would pass and Han would come home to her. She wiped her underwear as best she could and went to wash her hands and wash her face briskly. Looking in the mirror there, she almost didn't recognize herself – she looked – different, a different woman from who'd she'd been before – well she was…

On the way down the hall suddenly it was like she'd been run over, overcome – the worst, iciest, coldest feeling smacking her in the face, a brief glimpse of Luke's defiance face and then that mechanical breathing, low, violent words she couldn't make out amidst the pain of that headache – that violent sense of coldness and blackness and suffering – and her back, her lower back was killing her – one second she was standing and then she was leaning back, hard, against the corridor wall, sinking to the floor – she couldn't say a word, there was so much pain, it just felt like – pain, pain, like something inside her was revolting, flinching, recoiling, overcome – she felt overcome––

Then she was sort of half-sitting, half-squatting on the floor when she noticed it – pinched the inseam of her pants and froze, saw the stream of fluid that had been puddling beneath her on the floor.

For a second she thought – they've finally done it, they've punctured me, I've deflated, I'm emptying out from the inside, I'm collapsing in on myself. And then she put it together and felt like she was collapsing – hot tears springing into existence and burning on her face – no, no, no, no! Not now, not now, no – not yet, I don't want to, not right now, I can't right now!

But something inside her, the Leia Organa from another time, shoved all of those thoughts down violently. That Leia Organa checked herself for lingering crippling pain, gave herself a firm nod, took off her jacket and tied it around her waist to cover the stain from the clear fluid, and clawed herself back up into standing before walking very briskly if awkwardly back to Command.

Ackbar was her direct superior, this time, and she approached him with total discipline and rigidity. "Admiral, I need to request a substitute be found for my station," she said in a low, curt voice.

"At ease, Princess – what's the situation?"

It would all be so comical if it weren't so serious. "I have a – a personal matter to attend to," she clarified in that same low voice.

"Personal matter?" the admiral said, far too loud for Leia's liking.

"Admiral Ackbar, I need your approval now – Princess, are you alright? You look positively pale." Dodonna, then, having strode over, frowning at her.

"I'm sick," she managed faintly. "I need to be seen."

"Really, Your Highness, of all the times to fall ill––"

But Luke felt the Emperor, then, and Dodonna was looking on in total shock as Leia doubled over, cried out, and gripped his arm so tightly.

#

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