I keep having formatting issues, which is making me crazy lol. Trying to post this for the fourth time today.
"Princess Leia, you've grown into such a beautiful, young woman," the King of Rallorin said softly. He was a tall, thin humanoid, half a head taller than Han. The only features that differentiated him from humans were the large, brown circles that bubbled in two rows of four across his gaunt cheeks and the way that his nose was devoid of a bridge, consisting only of two flaring nostrils above his mouth. The soft-spoken leader wore long, flowing robes in a dark shade of purple, and his head was bald, save for a small topknot that tapered into a long ponytail to trail down his back.
Behind him stood his family, and Han noted that his two sons had the same hairstyle, while his wife and daughter had no hair at all. Han knew nothing of this species, and wondered if that was the current style, or if the females were born without hair.
Leia had told him of her visits as a child to the palace of Rallorin.
The ruling family were old friends of the Organas, and Leia was visiting to petition for funds to help support the Rebel Alliance. She was anticipating getting that aid, and Han hoped their hosts would not disappoint them.
The tall man embraced Leia, causing her to almost disappear within his tall frame and flowing robes. "I was so sorry to hear about Alderaan," he whispered. "But I'm relieved that you are safe." He pulled back from her and averted his gaze. "When I heard about Bail..."
"Let's not talk of such sorrow," Leia interrupted in a voice that was clearly used to avoiding such a painful topic.
"Of course, my dear." He smiled smoothly.
Leia turned towards Han. "Han, may I present King Birinsi. This is Captain Han Solo."
It had taken some serious persuading on Leia's part, but Han gave a curt bow. "It's an honor," he said in a loud, clear voice.
"And it is an honor to meet any friend of Princess Leia's," the king responded magnanimously.
Leia had moved past the King to embrace the members of his family, leaving Han to face the King alone. He leaned in close to the pilot, dropping his voice so that no one else could hear. Han instantly found himself feeling defensive.
"How well do you know Leia, Captain?"
He kept his tone guarded. "Pretty well."
"How has she fared without Bail these past couple of years?"
Han looked at the King, saw that his expression was sincere. "She's made it. She's a strong woman."
He smiled wistfully. "That she is."
Leia rejoined them, and after Han was introduced to the royal family, the king summoned a servant to show them to their rooms.
"I have some urgent business to attend to," he told them. "Feel free to keep yourselves entertained. The palace is at your disposal. Make yourselves at home. You will be summoned for dinner with us this evening." With that he was gone, his family trailing in his wake.
The male servant who led them through the palace had the same topknot as the King, but without the long ponytail. As he led them to their rooms, Han could only gape at the splendor of the palace.
Each room was humongous, larger than any Han had ever seen. The furnishings were obviously more expensive than Han could ever have imagined. Intricate tapestries covered the windows, gilded moldings lined the doorways, and priceless works of art surrounded him at every turn. He appraised them with a smuggler's eyes, then berated himself for such thoughts.
The staircase they ascended was made of solid, red marble. He couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around how many credits that must have cost. They traveled down a hallway and came to a door, which the servant opened for Leia, then followed her through. Han stayed in the doorway, watching as the man showed Leia where everything was. His eyes were drawn to the enormous, canopied bed at the far end, beneath the panoramic window that led out to a balcony and provided a breathtaking view of the gardens below. He pushed aside the thoughts of what he would like to do in that bed.
In the past six months, since he had kissed her, things had mostly returned to normal between them. They still spent a great deal of time together, both with Luke and without. But something was strained in their friendship. She never truly allowed herself to relax, her guard was always up. He hated to see that. But he didn't think there was much he could do about it.
His relationship with Bria was almost nonexistent now. They were still together, but they spent less time with each other than ever before. And many times, when they were together, they ended up fighting about nothing in particular. He wasn't sure why he stayed with her… perhaps it was to spite Leia. If she didn't want him, he'd show her that someone else did. He knew his attitude was childish, but it bothered him that he hadn't been able to get close to her again. It made him angry, and he needed to retaliate in some way.
Leia disappeared into the refresher, and the servant came to Han and brought him to the room just next to Leia's, closing her door behind him. Han's room was quite similar to Leia's, just slightly smaller. It too was furnished lavishly, with an iron, canopied bed at the center, instead of by the window. He was shown the layout of the room, and when he was alone, he began to explore. Okay, this door's a closet. That's the 'fresher. Wonder what's behind door number three?
He hit the controls and the door slid open to reveal Leia, standing in her room, facing him, her fingers just finishing with the fasteners on the lavender jumpsuit she had changed into. Her eyes narrowed.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He grinned. "Relax. I didn't know what this door led to."
"Well, now you know. I think I'll keep it locked from now on, thank you very much." She glared at him darkly.
He just shrugged, and swaggered to her tall bed. The mattress came up to his waist, and he smiled in amusement, thinking of how small she would seem next to it. He climbed into it, lying back with his hands behind his head.
Leia walked over and said caustically, "Don't hold back. Make yourself at home."
He shot her a patient look, realizing that he was right: she looked adorable with the bed reaching her chest. "Well, that's what the King said...make yourself at home."
"I'm sure he meant in your own room."
He shrugged. "Whatever."
She shook her head and went to her travel pack, taking out clothes and placing them in the wardrobe.
He watched her for a long moment, his eyes travelling over every feature. "How old were you the last time you came here?"
She stopped what she was doing and leaned heavily against the wardrobe. "Um, I think...thirteen? I think." Her gaze grew inward. "I came with just my father. I remember Telly and I used to play in the gardens during the day."
Telly? After a second, Han realized that was the King's daughter. She was perhaps a couple of years younger than Leia.
She continued, her voice wistful. "We talked about everything. We made up endless, silly games. This was really the only place where I was ever allowed to be a child." She smiled a small, sad smile. "In the evenings, I would meet with my father, before dinner, and he would tell me about his day. I think this was a rare place for him to relax also." Her eyes filled with sudden tears, and Han cursed himself for bringing it up.
Instantly, he was beside her, wrapping his arms around her tiny body. "Aw, Princess, I didn't mean to upset you."
She leaned into him momentarily. "No, it's okay. I'm fine." She rested her head on his chest, making a warm, wonderful feeling spread through Han's insides. Then she removed herself from his arms and looked up at him, smiling through her tears. "They're happy memories."
He arched an eyebrow. "Then why are you crying?"
Her chin trembled slightly, before she got it under control again. "Don't ask stupid questions, Han."
He smirked. "But you always tell me that's my specialty."
"This is true."
Instinctively, he brought his face closer to hers. Sometimes, he simply couldn't help himself.
She immediately moved away from him, returning to her task. Han's heart sank, as it always did when she pushed him away. He went to the balcony and stepped out, admiring the gardens below. The endless trees, shrubs and flowers spanned farther than he could see. He wondered vaguely how much land this estate was on.
To his surprise, Leia joined him after only a few minutes. She didn't look at him, just stared off into the distance. He watched her, unobserved. He loved to just look at her. He admired the graceful lines of her throat, the soft curve of her lips. He loved the regal shape of her eyebrows, the softness of her white skin. Most of all, he found himself drawn to her gorgeous eyes, so dark and expressive. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm this train of thought.
He clasped her hand in his suddenly and pulled her to face him. "C'mon, Princess," he said softly. "Let's go check out these gardens."
She smiled tentatively, which he took as a good sign. He led her from the balcony, slowing his pace to match her smaller legs.
In the garden, Han continued to hold her hand. He knew it was only a matter of time until she yanked it from his gentle grasp, so he enjoyed it while he could.
They walked in peaceful silence for a time, neither commenting as they admired the beautiful gardens. They passed numerous garden tenders, both male and female, and Han saw that all the women had no hair.
"What's with the hair? Or lack of it, should I say?"
Leia cast him an amused glance. "Rallorin women are born without hair. The males are the more attractive of the two sexes."
"Oh."
"When I was little, I couldn't believe the women had no hair. I mean, imagine the difference, Alderaanian women grow their hair as long as possible, never cutting it. It was a bit of culture shock for me."
"I'm sure."
"I wondered how I would look without hair." She laughed. "I imagine it wouldn't be a pretty sight."
He glanced sideways at her, an affectionate smile on his lips. "You'd still be beautiful, Leia."
Her eyes flew to the ground and she smiled shyly. "Well, thank you," she said self-consciously. "But I doubt that highly."
He kept his eyes straight ahead, but squeezed her hand, running his thumb along her slender fingers. They continued walking, and Han didn't want to admit how much he was enjoying the tender moment.
"So, tell me more about when you were a kid." He just wanted to keep her talking, to continue to see her at ease with him.
"What do you want to know?"
"Anything."
She thought for a long minute before responding. "I always wanted a brother, or sister," she said wistfully. "I didn't have much time with other children. I didn't go to school with others, I had private tutors who taught me at the Palace. I think that's why I was so drawn to Telly. When I was here, we pretended we were sisters."
"That must've been fun."
"Yes, it was." Her eyes grew serious again.
"Did you have any friends on Alderaan?"
"I did have one. Winter. We were very close, but even with her, there were formalities. No matter how many times I told her not to, she continued to call me 'Your Highness.'" She sighed deeply. "Sometimes, I just wanted to be Leia. Do you know what I mean?" She looked at him beseechingly.
He stared back with serious eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do, Leia."
She smiled gratefully, and it warmed his heart. He was beginning to feel hopeful that they could restore their former closeness.
They came upon an area with two benches which had a small rock fountain between them. The area was effectively blocked off by a canopy of huge trees with pink, feathery leaves, giving the illusion of privacy. The quiet sound of the water streaming through the rocks added to the quiet atmosphere. Without a word, Han led Leia to a bench and sat beside her, still holding her hand.
She turned towards him and asked suddenly. "What about you?"
"What about me?" He grinned.
She shoved him playfully. "You know everything about me. Tell me something about you."
He leaned close, his face agonizingly near her. "Do I know everything, Leia?" he whispered.
Her features softened for an instant, then she drew back slightly. "You know what I mean."
He sighed. "So... what? You want to know something? Ask me."
"Tell me about Dewlanna."
He grimaced. His childhood, if one could call it that, was non-negotiable. "She was a Wookiee," he answered flippantly, knowing that was the one bit of information she already knew.
She rolled her eyes. "I should have expected that." She shook her head at the way his grin widened. "Can't you be serious for a minute?"
He made a show of lowering his brow in contemplation. "Hmmm...nah, I don't think so."
"Nerfherder," she muttered. "How did you end up with Dewlanna?"
Deliberately, just to throw her off balance, he leaned back and placed one arm around her, across the back of the bench. He let his hand mold to her shoulder. "I don't remember," he replied off-handedly.
Surprisingly, his touch had no effect. "She must have told you something."
"Not really."
"Okay. Well, how old were you when you met her?"
She obviously was not going to let this go. "Dunno." He decided to up the ante. He swung around, turned her so that her back faced him, then placed one long leg beside her, forcing her to lean back against his chest. Then he slipped his arms around her waist, cradling her body with his own.
It had the desired effect. She stiffened. "What are you doing?"
"What?" he asked in his most innocent voice.
"You know."
"Know what?"
She sighed, sitting ramrod straight, but did not try to move from his arms. "Fine. Tell me about Corellia."
"What about it?" This was a much safer topic, but now he simply didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Besides, he was having too much fun.
"What did you do there?"
He laughed softly, bringing his head to hover by her neck. "Got into a lot of trouble." Without warning, he gently brushed his lips against the warm skin of her throat, not quite kissing her there.
She took in a sharp breath, almost jumping in his arms. He continued the tender caress, lost in the softness of her skin now. He felt her relax against him, and a hot, fluid emotion coursed through him. His lips parted involuntarily, and he tasted her skin, sweet and warm against his mouth. She cleared her throat suddenly, and before he had time to register it, she was retreating from him, her face crimson. She stood quickly.
Her eyes were locked on the fountain when she spoke. "We...we should get back. In case anyone is looking for us."
Han tried to ignore the incessant longing he felt. But it was impossible. He was beginning to grow tired of this frustration. Wordlessly, he got up and began walking, not even glancing back to see if she followed.
It was rather early for Leia to be in bed, but the alternative was too unnerving. Dinner had been a lovely, elaborate affair, full of fond reminiscing. Only one thing had detracted from the pleasure of the evening.
She felt as if Han were stalking her, like some predatory animal. Every time she looked at him, he was watching her with fierce eyes. Somehow, something subtle had shifted between them that afternoon. She wasn't quite sure why or how...it just had. And now she found herself unable to handle it.
There was a new tension every time he touched her. As simple a thing as his hand resting on her back as they walked down the staircase was enough to make her quiver inside. She felt overwhelmed by his presence, intoxicated by his closeness. She fought it with every last bit of strength, but he was wearing her down.
She couldn't let him kiss her again, that would be the end of her. She had to keep reminding herself of all the reasons he was wrong for her: he was Bria Tharen's man; he was an irresponsible scoundrel; he had no loyalty to the Rebellion, and no intention of staying; he had a price on his head; and if she allowed herself to be with him, to know how he could penetrate her soul, she would surely fall apart if she lost him.
And she was destined to lose him, be it to Bria, his decision to leave, or death. It was only a matter of when. And as it was, even maintaining some illusion of distance from him, she knew that when he was gone, she would be devastated. That terrified her. The thought of how she would feel when he was no longer with her left her feeling small and fragile. The only time in her life she had felt that way was when Alderaan had been destroyed. She had no desire to relive those feelings of loss.
A soft knock at the door separating her room from Han's caused her to sit up quickly in her bed. Damn, I never locked that door. She froze, uncertain of what to do. Should she call to him? Or should she take the coward's way out, and feign sleep? "Oh, hells," she muttered to herself. "What?" she called sharply.
The door slid open almost as the word left her lips. Leia squinted against the sudden burst of light that streamed in from his room. When her eyes had adjusted, she saw Han leaning in the doorway, clad only in his gray shorts, arms crossed.
"Yes?" she asked coldly.
"I can't sleep."
She sighed. "How is that my problem?"
"I just figured... if you were still awake... we could both use some company." His voice was soft and gentle in the stillness of the room.
"I'm trying to sleep."
"But you're not actually sleeping." She couldn't make out his expression in the shadows, but she could hear the grin in his voice.
"What do you want me to do?" Even she could hear the vulnerability in her own voice.
"Just to talk for a while. Don't ya trust me?" Again, that maddeningly knowing tone.
She resisted the urge to laugh in his face. "Somehow, Han Solo and the word 'trust' just don't connect in my mind."
"Ouch!" He laughed.
"All right, come in if you must."
He swaggered into the room, and leaned at her bedside.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, appalled.
"What?"
"Don't you think this is a little inappropriate?" She clung to whatever excuse she could find to prevent him from getting too close.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked softly.
Everything. "Nothing. Why would I be afraid?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
This was a completely new game he was playing, and she didn't like it. It was as if he had been showing mercy for her fragile emotional state before, but now he had cast any such pretense aside. "You're delusional."
"Am I?" He leaned closer to where she was practically cowering against her pillow.
In the faint light, she could just see his hypnotic, hazel eyes gazing at her intently. "I... I need a drink," she whispered pathetically. She heard him sigh as she climbed from the bed on the other side, away from Han. As she passed the illuminator, she gave it a soft whack, dousing the room in sudden light.
Across the room, she opened the refrigeration unit and removed a small pitcher of fresh water. She poured herself a large glassful and downed it in one, long swallow. With a deep, refreshing breath, she replaced the glass on the small table and turned back to Han.
Which was probably a mistake. Han had climbed into her bed and was laying across it enticingly, one leg up with an arm propped across it. His smooth, tanned skin played softly over firm muscle, making her wish desperately that she had never allowed him to come in the room. And he was smiling at her, not his usual cocky grin, but a soft, sweet smile that reminded her of how caring and gentle he could be.
She opted for the safest venue she could find, taking a seat on the nearby sofa, as far from him as she could manage. She curled up there, tucking her feet primly beneath the long edge of her sleepgown. The disappointment on his face caused her to stifle a giggle.
"What's so funny?" he asked, a mock wounded expression on his handsome face.
"Nothing. Really." She giggled again.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, which settled her down into a more serious demeanor.
"How come you didn't bring up the Alliance stuff during dinner?" he asked.
The Alliance stuff, she laughed inwardly. He's so articulate. "It wouldn't be appropriate to bring it up during dinner. Rallorin custom is to keep one's business and personal life separate."
"So, does that mean he won't help you, even though he's your friend?"
"No, it means that he won't help me because I'm his friend. But I do believe he will help me because he believes in the cause of the Rebellion."
"Huh." He seemed to ponder this.
"Something you don't understand about that?" she asked patiently.
"No," he answered a bit defensively. "So, when will you talk to him about it?"
"The custom is to petition the King for an audience. I've received permission for an audience the day after tomorrow."
"Oh."
She smiled at him, some of the vulnerability gone now. "You must be tired, Han. Your witty repartee is almost nonexistent."
He grinned. "Gimme some time, Sweetheart. I may surprise you."
"You usually do," she responded fondly.
He grinned again, and Leia realized he might be mistaking her banter for flirting. She decided to remain serious, if such a thing were possible with Han Solo.
"At any rate," he was saying. "This makes for a good vacation."
"Don't enjoy yourself too much. This is business."
"Leia, when are you going to learn to relax?"
"How can I relax? There are hundreds of things I should be doing."
"But you can't do any of them right now, so you might as well relax."
She sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "You simply don't understand."
"Sure, I do. I just look at life differently than you do."
"You can say that again," she muttered.
"I'm being serious here."
She returned her gaze to him and waited patiently for some elaboration.
He continued. "Look, I'm taking this whole Rebellion thing as serious as the next guy. But I can still step back and enjoy life every chance I get. You don't know how to do that."
She tried not to show how much his comment about the Rebellion both touched and pleased her. "How can you say that? After all the nights I've spent playing that godsforsaken Sabacc game with Luke, Chewie and you?"
"That's a distraction, that's all. You still don't let yourself relax. Not totally."
"What exactly is your definition of relaxing? It seems to be differing from mine."
"Relaxing is to just let go and enjoy yourself. To not think about anything, 'cept what you're doin' right now." He stared at her intently. "You ever do that, Princess?"
She looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "How can I? When I've got the future of the galaxy on my shoulders?" she asked softly.
She heard Han rise from the bed and cross the room, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his. His warmth sent heat flowing through her hands all the way to her stomach. "You don't need to shoulder that alone, Leia. You're not alone."
She looked up at the softness in his voice. His expression was devastatingly tender and earnest. Her voice caught at the beauty of his features. Their eyes remained locked on each other. She couldn't seem to pull her gaze away. Her eyes took in his face, the perfection there marred endearingly by the scar on his chin.
His face was nearing hers, and suddenly she snapped out of her daze, standing up as quickly as she could, almost knocking him down with the unexpectedness of the movement. She crossed the room and fiddled with some things on the side table by the bed. When she glanced back at Han, she saw him sitting dejectedly on the floor where she had left him. His head was bent over his arms, where they rested on his raised knees. He sat that way for a long time, as Leia arranged and rearranged the items on the tabletop. When there was little else she could do there, she turned back to see him standing, moving towards her.
"I'll let you get some sleep, Your Highnessness."
His voice sounded thick to her ears. "Okay. Goodnight."
He came to stand before her, next to the bed. "Night," he whispered softly.
His hands were on her shoulders, his face bending towards her. She closed her eyes; his nearness more than she could handle. But his lips only brushed against her cheek, causing relief to mix with disappointment, in one swirling emotion. As his head came up, she opened her eyes, not willing to allow him to see how much he affected her. Although, she suspected he already knew.
He smiled softly, almost understandingly, then walked through the door adjoining his room and closed it behind him.
Leia collapsed against the bed, emotionally overwhelmed. Surely, he was killing her, ever so slowly.
