Chapter 12
Memories of the Revolution were not wanting for Leia as she and Han scrambled to repair the Falcon. Though she was fuming at him--absolutely fuming--she realized that if she was ever going to get Hanna and Luke back, she had to get along with him. No anger, she told herself. Be like Luke. Be peace.
Twenty years ago, as Leia and Han rushed to repair the Falcon of the same ailment, they had been on worse terms than they were now. As Leia realized that, she paused in the turning of a lever. Was that so? She brushed a wisp of hair away from her face in thought. No, it couldn't be so. Things could not possibly be worse than they were now. She couldn't stand the sight of Han. Twenty years ago, she had at least been able to scream at him to his face.
She could almost hear Luke asking her what exactly she was afraid of now.
Damn Luke, always making her confront her feelings!
She let out a frustrated sigh, turning the lever with all of her strength. She was just about to put the Force behind it when she felt arms around her. They were not there for her; they were there to push the lever, to add their strength to hers.
She pushed Han away angrily, but paused and looked at him in shock when it dawned on her that this some situation had been a prelude to their first kiss. By the look on Han's face, he realized it too.
"Sorry," he apologized nervously, turning away.
"I can handle it," she said in return, trying to keep her voice even. "Thanks anyway."
"If you need help..."
"I'll let you know."
The way he held her eyes before leaving made her whole body shake and burn. It was the way he used to look at her, before Hanna came.
**********
Six hours later, frazzled, angry, exhausted, and anxious, Leia sat once again in the copilot's seat. She let her hair down, intending to do it up again in braid crowns quickly, but by the way Han glanced sidelong at it; she knew she would have to do something quicker. Han used to say that her hair hanging loose turned him on more than about anything else. She remembered too late.
But Han...he'd changed. It had been nineteen years, after all, but she hadn't expected him to have quieted down so much. He was much more civil, spoke much more softly. The day she first saw him again, the day he kissed her, he had been putting on a protective front so as not to let her hurt him--she knew that now. Han was no longer much of one to argue or call names. He just wanted everything to run smoothly. Maybe that was why she hadn't cursed him when the hyperdrive died. It had either been that or the fact that she logically knew that getting angry could not help her family. It would only waste time.
Maybe Han's somewhat detached, silent demeanor, his lack of a need to rile her every second, was because of the time they had once spent together. It was not as if they could go back to square one because they'd been separated on bad terms, not after being lovers.
Lovers. Leia paused as her mind rolled over that word. She had only had one love in her whole life and there he was, sitting right next to her, after all of these years of wanting and missing...
And hating and crying.
What she'd done nineteen years ago had been for a reason, she reminded herself. She couldn't take Han back just because Hanna was grown up. The same personality flaws that would have made him a bad father would have made him a bad life partner, too. He definitely was not husband material, and even if they had been able to get along as a married couple, eventually Leia would have wanted children. And she couldn't trust Han to father them. No matter what, it would have happened sooner or later anyway.
"Hey."
Leia blinked, looked up. "What?"
"You okay?" Han asked, both trying to sound concerned and unconcerned.
"I was just thinking."
He sighed and flicked some switches. "You ready for lightspeed?"
She nodded.
"Still got the trail?"
Leia shut her eyes tightly, trying to relax. She had had quite a bit of training, but she was nowhere near as good as Luke. He said it was because she had waited until she was twenty-five to begin, to even touch the tip of the iceberg. The younger you are when you start, and the more time you have to practice, the more powerful you will be. He kept promising that she would get there...
"Sort of."
Han stared at her lamely. "'Sort of?'"
"It's been so long since they left...I think...Somewhere...over there." She pointed to a piece of sky that looked like the rest of the sky--black, dotted with random white lights. "They were headed for the Dufilvan Sector. At least they were when they left."
Han nodded, setting a course in the navacomputer. "It's a start, babe. It's a start."
Leia flinched. He used to caller her that in bed. Why bring it up now? "Don't call me that," she growled.
Han flashed her a smile. "You used to like it."
"That was a long time ago. Don't joke with me either."
As soon as they were in hyperspace, Leia leaned back in her chair and breathed deeply. She didn't think Luke could hear her--he was so far away--but she called to him anyway. *Luke,* she said in her mind, we're coming. *Tell Hanna I love her, and that we're coming for her.*
It suddenly occurred to her that Hanna and Luke might not need their help at all. She was sure that if there was a battle, and one side consisted of only Hanna and Luke and the other just of herself and Han, the other two would win in no time. Still, she couldn't sit by and do nothing. Luke was her other half, Hanna her own flesh and blood.
The first time Hanna's life had been threatened, she had only been a rambunctious four-year-old. Leia had been giving a speech in the Imperial Square on Coruscant. Imperial loyalists opened fire on the stage. While she ducked, Luke had picked the child up and wrapped her in his robes, running with break-neck Jedi speed to safety. Leia hadn't been able to sleep that night, and Luke had comforted her, rubbing the knots out of her back. Her whole being had been shaking. Part of her, all that night, had wanted to call Han and tell him what happened. But she couldn't have if she had let herself. She hadn't known where he was.
"I wasn't tryin' to joke with you," Han explained. "Or rile you, or make you angry, or anythin'. I was trying to get you to lighten up. Clam down a little."
"Calm down? My daughter could be dead--"
"Our daughter." He broke in loudly, then softened once again. "She's our daughter, Leia."
Leia just stared back at him, into his eyes. They looked into each other's eyes for a long, difficult moment. When Leia had recognized the pain in them all of those years ago, she hadn't noticed it as being this deep. Pain stabbed through her heart. She'd never wanted to hurt him. She had just been doing what was right...
"Hey, look..." he began, as uncomfortable as she was. "We been up most the night, and we got about twelve hours to the Dufilvan Sector. Why don't you get some sleep?"
She nodded tiredly. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "I'll sleep when you're done. You don't wanna sleep in the same room as me, and I don't blame you."
Leia was about to argue with him, but he was offering this to her, and he might as well take it. Sleeping in the same room would be awkward. She rose to find her way to the sleeping quarters, but Han reached out and took her hand.
"Hold on," he pleaded softly. "You said that there was no point to talking about it. I wanna talk about it anyway."
His touch made her tingle with uneasiness. "Why?"
"'Cause I've had somethin' knockin' around in my head for nineteen years that I can't get to shut up. I gotta know somethin.'"
Leia swallowed and drew her hand away. "What?"
"I gotta know...when you sent me away..."
She nodded.
"It was 'cause of Hanna."
She nodded again.
"It wasn't 'cause..." he couldn't finish. The word 'love' had been hard for him to use even in his most passionate moments with Leia, not because he did not mean it, but because he was unaccustomed to using it. It was cumbersome and so often misused-he needed it to mean something. "Did you love me?"
Leia looked away. It was more difficult for her to answer than it had been for him to ask. "You know I did, Han."
With that, she drew away, not looking back. She slept in a bed chosen at random, and the pillow smelled like Luke's sweet, dusty smell. She had always been one to fall victim to insomnia, but tonight she was so exhausted that sleep lost no time in overtaking her, and she dreamed of the Revolution, of a night she had slept in a tent in the snow-covered woods of an uninhabited planet that the Alliance had been considering for a base. By midnight the temperature had dropped to forty below, and she, Luke and Han had slept huddled together to keep warm. She had wondered at the time what the rest of the Alderaanean Court would have thought, but in the morning it was wonderful to wake up in both their arms, her two best friends in the universe, Luke smelling like the desert and Han like spice. Han had told Leia she smelled like an orchard, and Luke had agreed-like the nut trees outside her window on Alderaan. Funny, how those smells never had managed to wash out of their hair...
Memories of the Revolution were not wanting for Leia as she and Han scrambled to repair the Falcon. Though she was fuming at him--absolutely fuming--she realized that if she was ever going to get Hanna and Luke back, she had to get along with him. No anger, she told herself. Be like Luke. Be peace.
Twenty years ago, as Leia and Han rushed to repair the Falcon of the same ailment, they had been on worse terms than they were now. As Leia realized that, she paused in the turning of a lever. Was that so? She brushed a wisp of hair away from her face in thought. No, it couldn't be so. Things could not possibly be worse than they were now. She couldn't stand the sight of Han. Twenty years ago, she had at least been able to scream at him to his face.
She could almost hear Luke asking her what exactly she was afraid of now.
Damn Luke, always making her confront her feelings!
She let out a frustrated sigh, turning the lever with all of her strength. She was just about to put the Force behind it when she felt arms around her. They were not there for her; they were there to push the lever, to add their strength to hers.
She pushed Han away angrily, but paused and looked at him in shock when it dawned on her that this some situation had been a prelude to their first kiss. By the look on Han's face, he realized it too.
"Sorry," he apologized nervously, turning away.
"I can handle it," she said in return, trying to keep her voice even. "Thanks anyway."
"If you need help..."
"I'll let you know."
The way he held her eyes before leaving made her whole body shake and burn. It was the way he used to look at her, before Hanna came.
**********
Six hours later, frazzled, angry, exhausted, and anxious, Leia sat once again in the copilot's seat. She let her hair down, intending to do it up again in braid crowns quickly, but by the way Han glanced sidelong at it; she knew she would have to do something quicker. Han used to say that her hair hanging loose turned him on more than about anything else. She remembered too late.
But Han...he'd changed. It had been nineteen years, after all, but she hadn't expected him to have quieted down so much. He was much more civil, spoke much more softly. The day she first saw him again, the day he kissed her, he had been putting on a protective front so as not to let her hurt him--she knew that now. Han was no longer much of one to argue or call names. He just wanted everything to run smoothly. Maybe that was why she hadn't cursed him when the hyperdrive died. It had either been that or the fact that she logically knew that getting angry could not help her family. It would only waste time.
Maybe Han's somewhat detached, silent demeanor, his lack of a need to rile her every second, was because of the time they had once spent together. It was not as if they could go back to square one because they'd been separated on bad terms, not after being lovers.
Lovers. Leia paused as her mind rolled over that word. She had only had one love in her whole life and there he was, sitting right next to her, after all of these years of wanting and missing...
And hating and crying.
What she'd done nineteen years ago had been for a reason, she reminded herself. She couldn't take Han back just because Hanna was grown up. The same personality flaws that would have made him a bad father would have made him a bad life partner, too. He definitely was not husband material, and even if they had been able to get along as a married couple, eventually Leia would have wanted children. And she couldn't trust Han to father them. No matter what, it would have happened sooner or later anyway.
"Hey."
Leia blinked, looked up. "What?"
"You okay?" Han asked, both trying to sound concerned and unconcerned.
"I was just thinking."
He sighed and flicked some switches. "You ready for lightspeed?"
She nodded.
"Still got the trail?"
Leia shut her eyes tightly, trying to relax. She had had quite a bit of training, but she was nowhere near as good as Luke. He said it was because she had waited until she was twenty-five to begin, to even touch the tip of the iceberg. The younger you are when you start, and the more time you have to practice, the more powerful you will be. He kept promising that she would get there...
"Sort of."
Han stared at her lamely. "'Sort of?'"
"It's been so long since they left...I think...Somewhere...over there." She pointed to a piece of sky that looked like the rest of the sky--black, dotted with random white lights. "They were headed for the Dufilvan Sector. At least they were when they left."
Han nodded, setting a course in the navacomputer. "It's a start, babe. It's a start."
Leia flinched. He used to caller her that in bed. Why bring it up now? "Don't call me that," she growled.
Han flashed her a smile. "You used to like it."
"That was a long time ago. Don't joke with me either."
As soon as they were in hyperspace, Leia leaned back in her chair and breathed deeply. She didn't think Luke could hear her--he was so far away--but she called to him anyway. *Luke,* she said in her mind, we're coming. *Tell Hanna I love her, and that we're coming for her.*
It suddenly occurred to her that Hanna and Luke might not need their help at all. She was sure that if there was a battle, and one side consisted of only Hanna and Luke and the other just of herself and Han, the other two would win in no time. Still, she couldn't sit by and do nothing. Luke was her other half, Hanna her own flesh and blood.
The first time Hanna's life had been threatened, she had only been a rambunctious four-year-old. Leia had been giving a speech in the Imperial Square on Coruscant. Imperial loyalists opened fire on the stage. While she ducked, Luke had picked the child up and wrapped her in his robes, running with break-neck Jedi speed to safety. Leia hadn't been able to sleep that night, and Luke had comforted her, rubbing the knots out of her back. Her whole being had been shaking. Part of her, all that night, had wanted to call Han and tell him what happened. But she couldn't have if she had let herself. She hadn't known where he was.
"I wasn't tryin' to joke with you," Han explained. "Or rile you, or make you angry, or anythin'. I was trying to get you to lighten up. Clam down a little."
"Calm down? My daughter could be dead--"
"Our daughter." He broke in loudly, then softened once again. "She's our daughter, Leia."
Leia just stared back at him, into his eyes. They looked into each other's eyes for a long, difficult moment. When Leia had recognized the pain in them all of those years ago, she hadn't noticed it as being this deep. Pain stabbed through her heart. She'd never wanted to hurt him. She had just been doing what was right...
"Hey, look..." he began, as uncomfortable as she was. "We been up most the night, and we got about twelve hours to the Dufilvan Sector. Why don't you get some sleep?"
She nodded tiredly. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "I'll sleep when you're done. You don't wanna sleep in the same room as me, and I don't blame you."
Leia was about to argue with him, but he was offering this to her, and he might as well take it. Sleeping in the same room would be awkward. She rose to find her way to the sleeping quarters, but Han reached out and took her hand.
"Hold on," he pleaded softly. "You said that there was no point to talking about it. I wanna talk about it anyway."
His touch made her tingle with uneasiness. "Why?"
"'Cause I've had somethin' knockin' around in my head for nineteen years that I can't get to shut up. I gotta know somethin.'"
Leia swallowed and drew her hand away. "What?"
"I gotta know...when you sent me away..."
She nodded.
"It was 'cause of Hanna."
She nodded again.
"It wasn't 'cause..." he couldn't finish. The word 'love' had been hard for him to use even in his most passionate moments with Leia, not because he did not mean it, but because he was unaccustomed to using it. It was cumbersome and so often misused-he needed it to mean something. "Did you love me?"
Leia looked away. It was more difficult for her to answer than it had been for him to ask. "You know I did, Han."
With that, she drew away, not looking back. She slept in a bed chosen at random, and the pillow smelled like Luke's sweet, dusty smell. She had always been one to fall victim to insomnia, but tonight she was so exhausted that sleep lost no time in overtaking her, and she dreamed of the Revolution, of a night she had slept in a tent in the snow-covered woods of an uninhabited planet that the Alliance had been considering for a base. By midnight the temperature had dropped to forty below, and she, Luke and Han had slept huddled together to keep warm. She had wondered at the time what the rest of the Alderaanean Court would have thought, but in the morning it was wonderful to wake up in both their arms, her two best friends in the universe, Luke smelling like the desert and Han like spice. Han had told Leia she smelled like an orchard, and Luke had agreed-like the nut trees outside her window on Alderaan. Funny, how those smells never had managed to wash out of their hair...