Leia protected her face with her right arm as the beast dove at her and she managed to knock it to the side, away from Han and herself for a few moments longer. She wouldn't allow an explanation to float to being in the front of her mind, she couldn't allow herself to know the reason why she felt this way.
She hadn't been this terrified since the Death Star took Alderaan, since that moment of horror just before the blow when she'd known that she would never see the safe haven of her home again. What would she loose today? What threat inspired such dread under her skin?
She couldn't answer that, it meant admitting to so many wrongs over her life, ones she didn't want to live up to. There was a truth she didn't want to see, regret she didn't want to have but wouldn't risk curing.
The junjat gathered itself together and made a charge back in Leia's direction. She scanned her surroundings quickly, her eyes sweeping over a decent rock only to pull back and focus on it a millisecond later as she decided on a plan of action.
Leia unearthed the stone, ripping it from it's soot lain bed as the animal came to her position. In a swift movement, her arm aided by gravity, she loosed her control and allowed her arm to guide the stone to it's target on the beast's forehead.
As her breathing calmed from a panicked rhythm to a more stable pattern she watched the beast wriggle and writhe in small shakes before ceasing to move entirely.
Leia sunk back against the stone behind her, allowing her core to calm for a moment. But, though the beast was dead and the fight over, her heart's beating remained furious. She didn't want to know why she couldn't calm it, or rather she didn't want to admit to having already known.
As a breeze blew through the forest opening, her eyes fell on Han. Making her way over she surveyed the blood which soaked through the soil below as Han's chest moved up and down in shallow breaths.
She ripped off a the least dinged piece of the gown she still wore, though now tattered and torn with mud and grime across it. Wrapping it around him, she didn't look up, not to his face or his eyes. It would be too painful, it was already tearing threw her to watch the blood flow from the puncture in his stomach.
She was avoiding the stare that he had given her before. It seemed to know her and yet be ultimately disoriented at her presence. He'd seen something in her for those few moments, something she wouldn't admit in herself. She had seen those honest eyes before, in many people who had come to death's door and been allowed a glimpse at pure truth, allowed in their last hours to see what all their lives they'd been unaware of or unwilling to see.
Luke had once told her that this was the look he had seen in their father's eyes before Anakin Skywalker passed on. He'd said that the world seemed to be revealed to him and the Force had allowed their father a precious few minutes of clarity to see all that had been a mystery to even the great Darth Vader.
If Han had seen some truth within himself, she didn't desire to know. Truth could ruin everything, it could shatter years of trying to make a life out of the remains of what they'd had. Somehow, though it was two of them who'd come together nearly eight years ago, neither of them had left whole. She'd been living all this time in so many pieces, and one dose of this truth could bring down the walls of control she'd erected to maintain what was left of her composure.
"Leia." Han breathed.
Leia froze. His voice was faint and broken, the sound contorted at the end as he grit his teeth in pain. His utterance felt like a cold breeze brushing across her cheek, and through her, a ghost wind which threatened to take the man laying before her with it's passing. She couldn't move her lips to answer, her mouth stiff and immobile in trepidation. She couldn't even look up at him, forcing herself to ignore his call and simply dress his wound.
"Leia," Han repeated, more force behind his words. She watched as his hand came to her face and guided it upward, bringing her eyes in line with his. "Listen," he inhaled heavily, "to me..."
As Han was about to continue, Leia felt an alarm go off within her head and she ducked, her head laying on Han's chest for a moment as a whooshing sound went above her, accompanied within seconds by an animal squeal.
She lifted her head and turned to right to find a second junjat, dead and pinned to the dirt wall by a crude wooden spear. Her head spun to the left in an effort to locate the owner of the weapon, only to see a young man, his face obscured with dots of blue paint around his eyes and a loin cloth as his only clothing coming towards her.
Not sure whether to judge the man friend or foe, Leia pulled the spear from the junjat and held it in a throwing posture, attempting to stand in the process.
The young man's hands went out toward her, moving down in lights drops as though pressing on the air. "Kao, na kao," he said in a seemingly calm voice.
Leia felt Han faintly squeeze her palm and she dropped the spear, looking back at him as her appeared to be fading. Her eyes darted back and forth, seeking something to remedy the problem though she knew not what she needed.
The young man came alongside her and Leia recalled his presence, having forgotten he even existed as she watched Han's irises slowly become wider, his chest moving with less frequent breaths.
"Cookua hé, fer ta gunaté," the native called, though to whom Leia neither new no cared to discern. With the end of his words, however, the forest clearing's population grew, with more natives of the young man's kind joining him alongside Han, each talking amongst themselves in their strange tongue.
As an older, wiser looking man came to kneel beside Han's near-limp body, he lowered his head. "Tuek deq juel," the man whispered, looking into Han's eyes, "Yi dyoja vetre zué kio set."
The group lifted Han off the ground despite Leia's weak protests, lifting him carefully onto their shoulders and walking off into the dense forest. She was unable to stop them, held back by the young man who'd thrown the spear. She wished with all of herself that she could speak their language, only to know what meaning lay behind the solemn words which the old man had spoken over Han.
The spear-thrower took her chin and pulled her face to look at him as she again pulled against his grip. "Deq suet zuéj," he said, letting go of her arm and taking her hand in a comforting gesture.
As he guided Leia behind his companions, she contemplated the meaning of the words which he'd spoken. No amount of though could make her understand them fully, but her fear quelled itself within her at the sound of the strange tones.
They may not have given her clarity, but at the moment, they gave her hope.
She hadn't been this terrified since the Death Star took Alderaan, since that moment of horror just before the blow when she'd known that she would never see the safe haven of her home again. What would she loose today? What threat inspired such dread under her skin?
She couldn't answer that, it meant admitting to so many wrongs over her life, ones she didn't want to live up to. There was a truth she didn't want to see, regret she didn't want to have but wouldn't risk curing.
The junjat gathered itself together and made a charge back in Leia's direction. She scanned her surroundings quickly, her eyes sweeping over a decent rock only to pull back and focus on it a millisecond later as she decided on a plan of action.
Leia unearthed the stone, ripping it from it's soot lain bed as the animal came to her position. In a swift movement, her arm aided by gravity, she loosed her control and allowed her arm to guide the stone to it's target on the beast's forehead.
As her breathing calmed from a panicked rhythm to a more stable pattern she watched the beast wriggle and writhe in small shakes before ceasing to move entirely.
Leia sunk back against the stone behind her, allowing her core to calm for a moment. But, though the beast was dead and the fight over, her heart's beating remained furious. She didn't want to know why she couldn't calm it, or rather she didn't want to admit to having already known.
As a breeze blew through the forest opening, her eyes fell on Han. Making her way over she surveyed the blood which soaked through the soil below as Han's chest moved up and down in shallow breaths.
She ripped off a the least dinged piece of the gown she still wore, though now tattered and torn with mud and grime across it. Wrapping it around him, she didn't look up, not to his face or his eyes. It would be too painful, it was already tearing threw her to watch the blood flow from the puncture in his stomach.
She was avoiding the stare that he had given her before. It seemed to know her and yet be ultimately disoriented at her presence. He'd seen something in her for those few moments, something she wouldn't admit in herself. She had seen those honest eyes before, in many people who had come to death's door and been allowed a glimpse at pure truth, allowed in their last hours to see what all their lives they'd been unaware of or unwilling to see.
Luke had once told her that this was the look he had seen in their father's eyes before Anakin Skywalker passed on. He'd said that the world seemed to be revealed to him and the Force had allowed their father a precious few minutes of clarity to see all that had been a mystery to even the great Darth Vader.
If Han had seen some truth within himself, she didn't desire to know. Truth could ruin everything, it could shatter years of trying to make a life out of the remains of what they'd had. Somehow, though it was two of them who'd come together nearly eight years ago, neither of them had left whole. She'd been living all this time in so many pieces, and one dose of this truth could bring down the walls of control she'd erected to maintain what was left of her composure.
"Leia." Han breathed.
Leia froze. His voice was faint and broken, the sound contorted at the end as he grit his teeth in pain. His utterance felt like a cold breeze brushing across her cheek, and through her, a ghost wind which threatened to take the man laying before her with it's passing. She couldn't move her lips to answer, her mouth stiff and immobile in trepidation. She couldn't even look up at him, forcing herself to ignore his call and simply dress his wound.
"Leia," Han repeated, more force behind his words. She watched as his hand came to her face and guided it upward, bringing her eyes in line with his. "Listen," he inhaled heavily, "to me..."
As Han was about to continue, Leia felt an alarm go off within her head and she ducked, her head laying on Han's chest for a moment as a whooshing sound went above her, accompanied within seconds by an animal squeal.
She lifted her head and turned to right to find a second junjat, dead and pinned to the dirt wall by a crude wooden spear. Her head spun to the left in an effort to locate the owner of the weapon, only to see a young man, his face obscured with dots of blue paint around his eyes and a loin cloth as his only clothing coming towards her.
Not sure whether to judge the man friend or foe, Leia pulled the spear from the junjat and held it in a throwing posture, attempting to stand in the process.
The young man's hands went out toward her, moving down in lights drops as though pressing on the air. "Kao, na kao," he said in a seemingly calm voice.
Leia felt Han faintly squeeze her palm and she dropped the spear, looking back at him as her appeared to be fading. Her eyes darted back and forth, seeking something to remedy the problem though she knew not what she needed.
The young man came alongside her and Leia recalled his presence, having forgotten he even existed as she watched Han's irises slowly become wider, his chest moving with less frequent breaths.
"Cookua hé, fer ta gunaté," the native called, though to whom Leia neither new no cared to discern. With the end of his words, however, the forest clearing's population grew, with more natives of the young man's kind joining him alongside Han, each talking amongst themselves in their strange tongue.
As an older, wiser looking man came to kneel beside Han's near-limp body, he lowered his head. "Tuek deq juel," the man whispered, looking into Han's eyes, "Yi dyoja vetre zué kio set."
The group lifted Han off the ground despite Leia's weak protests, lifting him carefully onto their shoulders and walking off into the dense forest. She was unable to stop them, held back by the young man who'd thrown the spear. She wished with all of herself that she could speak their language, only to know what meaning lay behind the solemn words which the old man had spoken over Han.
The spear-thrower took her chin and pulled her face to look at him as she again pulled against his grip. "Deq suet zuéj," he said, letting go of her arm and taking her hand in a comforting gesture.
As he guided Leia behind his companions, she contemplated the meaning of the words which he'd spoken. No amount of though could make her understand them fully, but her fear quelled itself within her at the sound of the strange tones.
They may not have given her clarity, but at the moment, they gave her hope.
