Searching for a good Han and
Leia fic I had yet to read, I discovered many, many fics that take
place after Balance Point. Having not finished Balance Point yet (I'm
fifty pages away from the end of it though), I decided to write a fic
that takes places between Dark Tide and Agents Of Chaos, while Han
was a grief-stricken idiot. WARNING! Very mushy, very plotless.
Enjoy!
{Note: This is the first in a
series of missing moments, similar to this one. I'm currently
working on one illustrating the scene Jacen witnesses, mentioned in
Balance Point.}
*****
Leia extinguished lights as
she made her way through the apartment towards the stairs. Sighing,
she mounted the stairs to her and Han's bedroom. Or what had seemed
more like her bedroom alone
lately. More often than not, she would awaken to find a comatose Han
on the floor after touring his favorite tapcafes.
Leia
wasn't sure if it was good or bad that Han wasn't drunk tonight. She
would have preferred to be Jabba the Hutt's sex slave again than
spend the night in the same bed as Han. In the five months since
Chewie's demise, her and Han had made love perhaps a dozen times;
each time Han initiated it. Every time it was because she'd happened
to be awake when he came home drunk (and he hadn't passed out in the
front hall or on the stairs), or he was simply trying to get away
from the grief.
Tentatively,
she stepped into their bedroom. Han stood with his back to her,
staring sightlessly out the transparisteel, over the Coruscant
skyline. That afternoon, they'd received word from Mallatobuck of the
memorial service in the honor of Chewbacca's memory in less than
three weeks. A strange calm had fallen over Han after reading the
message and he'd spent the rest of the afternoon telling Leia
stories of when he and Chewie were still smuggling, as he clutched
the old cap that proclaimed "It's a both!" that Chewie had
loved so much. She was sometimes envious of that wretched cap because
of the way he caressed like it was of the finest silk, looked at with
a strange love.
Leia walked over to him and
placed her hand on his shoulder gently. His head jerked around and
looked at her as if he had had no idea that he had a woman who loved
him so deeply she'd navigated the Unknown Regions for him, despite
all the moronic things he'd done the last several weeks.
"Leia," he breathed
and hugged her hard. She closed her eyes, and, breathing in his
scent, remembered happier times. Han stroked her hair like he'd
always loved to do.
"I know it's hard,"
she said quietly. Abruptly, he pushed her away and turned away. "No
you don't," he muttered.
He was lost to her again.
Back into the dark, pain-filled shell he'd already spent countless
days in. She was so frustrated. Frustrated with him, with the war,
with the Yuuzhan Vong, with herself because she couldn't seem to help
her husband. Leia clenched her fists against the emotions that
threatened to overtake her; it was a battle that was added to her
ever-growing list of losses.
"How can you say that?!"
she shouted, "I watched Alderaan be blown up by the Death Star,
a command I myself gave indirectly!" She ignored the threat of
tears. If she didn't say this now, she might spontaneously combust.
"I had no one to turn to. All I had left was the Rebellion.
Every moment I spent alone, I relived the explosion. I barely slept
for weeks, months because of the memories and nightmares that came."
Tears fell unabated down her cheeks. Leia wrapped her arms around her
waist, as her legs threatened to crumble. "I had no one to turn
to..."
Han caught her as her legs
gave way. She sobbed into his shoulder. She didn't only cry for
Alderaan but also for Chewie and for her husband's pain. As her tears
subsided, she simply held him close.
"I'm sorry," he
said stupidly and pressed a kiss to her forehead, to her nose, then,
hesitantly, on the lips. Leia sighed and leaned deeper into his arms.
They kissed deeply for an
eternity. Time suddenly had no meaning. Separating, they slowly
undressed each other, fingers gliding over heated skin that had gone
too long without such an intimate touch. Finally, Leia pulled Han
back on to the bed. They kissed and made love tenderly.
They lay in the afterglow.
Minutes ticked by without regard. Han's head lay over her heart,
listening to the even beat. Leia smoothed his tousled hair.
"I love you so much,"
he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"I love you too."
They kissed.
Leia awoke the next morning
to find Han gone. He sat in a nerf hide chair in the living room,
watching hover cars fly by, the ratty cap in his lap.