Title from Olivia Newton-John's song "Magic."
There's promise in the air
The celebrations were still going strong, Rebels greeting each other with relieved hugs and joyful shouts, inquiring after friends, warning each other about the Ewoks' wickedly strong brew. Someone, somewhere had found fireworks and set them off; there were bonfires and impromptu concerts and tearful reunions. The tension and fear that had lain beneath their careful plans and daring escapes had given way to the overwhelming sense of relief that followed a major victory.
We won.
After Luke had returned safely and rejoined the group, he'd quietly shared with Leia the outlines of what had happened with Vader, how he'd died to save Luke, how he'd fought to reach the good in himself. To regain his soul. But Luke had seemed to sense that Leia didn't want to hear much of it, which she didn't. Nothing Anakin could possibly do could repay the blood spilled, the souls lost, the lives destroyed because of his turn. But he had saved Luke in the end, and that was worth something.
Mostly, Leia was just glad to have Luke back, alive. Both because he was Luke, and she'd loved him like a brother long before he'd become so, but also because she couldn't imagine bearing alone the burden of what she now knew.
After making sure that Luke was settled, bringing him back to the party (after Han had spied him off on the edges, no doubt communing with some ghost or another), Leia turned her attention back to Han. She couldn't even express how good it felt to be in Han's arms, to feel his love for her, to have him here, his warmth and presence and humor. To have come through yet another battle with near-impossible odds to end up on the other side, together. She would be dead many times over if not for him, but that wasn't why she loved him. She loved him because of everything he was. He was Han. That was enough.
And soon, she would have to tell him.
The party raged on through the night, and Leia knew she didn't have much time left, the time before he knew. The time when he still would just hold her like this, love her like this. She closed her eyes and let him press her to his chest, his head resting on hers. She breathed in his scent, memorized this feeling, held this moment, like she was taking a multidimensional holo of it.
As the fires died down, she knew it was time.
"Han," she said, "let's go for a walk."
They held hands as they walked across the little bridges in Bright Tree Village, enjoying the night air, the fading sounds of celebration. The stars had been much more visible last night, before the battle, when he had comforted her without knowing why.
She took them to a similar spot on one of the wooden bridges, quiet, out of the way. He leaned in to kiss her, and she savored his taste on her tongue, his arms around her, the glimmer she could feel of him in the Force. Just in case.
Her hand lingered on his cheek as he pulled away, and his eyes were soft as he looked at her.
"Hey," he said quietly, his mouth turning up in a tentative smile, "what's goin' on?"
"I need to tell you something," she said, surprising herself with how stilted and formal the words sounded to her as they came out.
Han took one of her hands in his and held it, gently. "Alright," he said. She was back to memorizing his touch, the feel of his hands on hers.
There was a long pause, and each of them took a deep breath.
"So I told you Luke is my brother," she began.
"He's not?"
"No, he is, he is, it's just…." Leia breathed in deeply again. "There's more to it than that."
Han tried to catch her eye as he smiled again. "Figured there probably had to be."
Leia couldn't look at him, so she turned away and faced the rope railing of the bridge instead. "Our…father."
"Was Anakin Skywalker? The famous Jedi?" Han had clearly been paying attention; he'd been a boy on Corellia during the Clone Wars, mainly concerned with his own daily survival, but the war was pervasive enough that even he'd heard stories of the Hero With No Fear, which he'd later shared with Luke.
"Yes, he was." Leia was still staring out into the night, and Han was drawing closer, trying to reach her. How many times had he done this before, tried to reach her as she'd tried to disappear?
"So, the somethin' more is—is the Force? You're like Luke, you have it?"
Most beings didn't give Han credit for how perceptive he could be. Right now, Leia was grateful for it.
She looked at him again, wanting to see his reaction. "Yes. I have it. And Luke wants to teach me to use it." Leia wasn't certain how she felt about that at the moment, but that was beside the point.
Han smiled, and took her hand again. "That's how you knew—that Luke was okay. He made it off the Death Star." He shook his head, still smiling. "Shoulda known. That's—wow. You're fuckin' incredible, Sweetheart."
Leia wasn't done sharing, but she couldn't help it: with those words and that look, she had to kiss him again.
Leia, he has to know, she reminded herself. She could feel tears starting to form in her eyes, but as they pulled apart, she forced herself to continue forward.
Han noticed. "Sweetheart, what's—"
"There's more than that," she said. "Anakin didn't…stay Anakin. He turned to the Dark Side of the Force, and he became—"
She stopped, frozen in place. It felt like she'd hit a durasteel wall. She couldn't say it.
"Vader?" Han finished for her.
"Uh huh," she confirmed, and damn it! How was it that she could face down Vader and all the rest in person, but she couldn't even get out his goddess-damned name?
"Oh, Leia," Han said tenderly, and drew her back into his arms. He just held her again, like he would never let her go. She hoped he wouldn't, even when he heard the rest. But based on his reaction to this part, maybe the rest would be easier.
She pulled away, though she let him keep hold of one of her hands. "It gets worse," she warned him, before leaping into the rest.
"Worse than Vader?" He seemed dubious about that.
"More like Vader was worse," she began to explain. Deep breath. "Vader is what Anakin became when he turned to the Dark Side, but he didn't just become a Sith Lord. He became—a vampire."
That was definitely not what Han had been expecting, if he'd expected anything. "What?"
"Do you need me to repeat that?"
"No, no, I got it, it's just—" Han was fumbling around for a place to sit down now, and Leia led him to one of the flat-topped posts on either end of the bridge. He sat down silently for a moment, in a stupor, but soon got his bearings back enough to speak.
"A vampire, huh. So all those blood-sucking rumors—"
"Were true," Leia said. "I didn't much believe them either. He was plenty evil without that."
Han furrowed his brow. "So—if he was a vampire, how did you and Luke—can vampires—"
Leia breathed in again. "No, and I was getting to that. Anakin didn't turn until shortly before we were born. I don't know all the details, but—" she could feel her tears rising again, thinking of her birth mother— "he tried to turn our mother. He bit her, but somehow Obi-Wan interrupted before he could finish the job, and we were born shortly before she died."
Han squeezed her hand. "'M sorry."
"Me too," she said. "But that's the other thing."
"There's more?"
She really was hitting him with a lot tonight, wasn't she?
Leia smiled. "Only a little bit more. So, I guess even though we were born before our mother could be turned into a vampire, some of the vampire essence had gotten into her bloodstream, and it affected us." She looked at him head-on. "We're Dhampirs. Daywalkers."
Han's eyes were big as saucers now. "Daywalkers. Thought that was just a myth."
Leia was fairly certain Han had mostly thought the Force was a myth, when they'd met. And he hadn't had four years to bring himself around on this one.
"Although…Daywalker, Skywalker, I guess that kind of makes sense," he continued.
Leia laughed. "Well, you'll have to ask Luke about the Skywalker name. I think it might be related to some of the names used by slaves on Tatooine, and then reclaimed. But it does seem rather…appropriate."
She gave him a few moments to absorb all of this. It really was pretty unbelievable, the whole thing. If she hadn't felt in her bones the truth of it when Luke had told her last night, she would have seriously worried for her friend's—brother's—grasp on reality.
Han looked up. "So what does this mean….for us?" he asked.
"For us?" Leia honestly didn't know what it meant for her alone, much less her and Han together. If he was willing to stay together.
"I mean…are you like, not allowed to date or something? Because you're a…Daywalker?"
Leia couldn't help smiling. "Date? Is that what we're doing?"
Han smiled back, although his face still looked rather serious. He took her hand again. "Leia. I love you. And I think you may have said a couple times you love me too."
He'd managed to make her smile. "A couple of times."
"So why're you so afraid to tell me all this?"
Leia almost said, I'm not afraid, but he'd heard her say that before. And it wasn't true then, either.
"I just—" she looked down at her hands, and then back up at him—"I wanted you to know who I am. Where I come from. And what you'd be getting into with me."
He squeezed her hand gently. "Be getting you. That doesn't sound so bad."
Leia wasn't sure what to say to that, though she still feared he really didn't know what he was in for here. "It's complicated. I'm complicated."
He laughed. "Well, yeah, I knew that. Guess I like that."
She wasn't explaining this very well, but she had to try. "It's not just my past, though. It's what all this means going forward. I just—I feel like I have a calling."
"Like as a Jedi, or—"
"Maybe. But as a Daywalker, I have a power. A responsibility. The vampires aren't gone, Han. The fight isn't over. For me, it might never be over."
"You tryin' to warn me?"
"I can't just walk away." She hung her head. "And that might not be what you need."
"Leia." He put a hand to her cheek, his touch almost impossibly gentle. He tipped up her chin to look at him. "If someone thinks you would ever walk away from a good fight, they don't know you very well, do they?"
She looked into his eyes, saw the truth in them. "I guess not."
He drew her back to him and kissed her, long and slow. She only pulled away because she remembered another thing he needed to know.
"Han, I—the Daywalker powers, they mean—"
He grinned. "You gonna show me your fangs?"
She rolled her eyes, but appreciated the moment of levity. "Later, Flyboy. It's just—Daywalkers don't age like regular beings. We age more slowly, we live twice as long. I don't know how you'd feel about—"
"About having a young beautiful wife for way longer than I deserve? 'M good with that," he said.
Leia felt her eyes go wide. "Wife?"
Han smiled. "Leia," he said, "marry me."
Leia thought she was supposed to do all the shocking revelations here tonight. She was a bit speechless.
Han was shaking his head at himself, "Swear I was already planning to ask you, I just—"
"You don't care—you're okay with—"
"Don't care who your father was," he said, "or what mystic powers you might have. Or what we gotta do to make things right." Now he was clasping her hand in his, looking like at any moment he might grab her and kiss her again. "'M serious. If you'll have me, I'm yours, forever."
Forever. No, no one lived forever—except vampires, technically, but Leia knew enough about that to know that death had been a deliverance for her biological father, and would be so for most other vampires as well. And the years past Alderaan had taught her that you could be all but dead even as you technically lived and breathed. Han had helped her save herself from that.
He had an awed, almost giddy look on his face, like he'd had when she'd emerged from the Ewok hut yesterday. Like he couldn't believe he got to ask this question.
"Marry me, Leia?" he asked again.
Han was offering her life, again. A life with him. No matter her family, her powers, her calling.
"Okay, Hotshot," she said. "Yes."