yellow-lily: Lol, yeah, 'tis again!
PIP: Thank you:DD I hope four days isn't that long, but I didn't have that much time to write - I was a t a camp twelve hours each day. x.x
dm1: ;)

Well, here we go, everyone...

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Stop that. …My hands are dirty."

"My hands're dirty too, what're you afraid of?"

"Afraid?"

"You're trembling."

"…I'm not trembling."

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

"I happen to like nice men."

"I'm a nice man."

"No you're not, you're…"

Shock. Defiance. Love.

"Absolutely, Your Worship. Look, I had everything under control till you led us down here! Ya know, it's not gonna take 'em long to figure out what happened to us!"

"It could be worse."

"…It's worse."

Annoyance. Irritation. Aggravation.

"I'm goin' away for a few days."

"Where? And can't it wait? Luke's birthday is next week!"

"You mean it's your birthday and you want me there?"

"Well… yeah."

"Don't worry, I'll be back by then. Just visitin' an old smugglin' buddy of mine on Haruun Kal. He just had a baby, and for some reason he wants me there. Dunno. I guess he idolized me, or somethin'."

A small laugh. "Fine. I'll have Chewie skin you alive if you're not back in five days."

"I promise."

"You swear?"

"Hey. It's me."

"Like that's gotten you anywhere."

A pause, then, more quietly, "I love you, Princess."

"I know you do, Han."

…

Anger. Grief. Pain.

Longing.

And then it hits me. It hits me hard.

But… it can't be. Tyl is…

No. It's not possible.

But it is.

This blast of… memory and… emotion. It proves it. None of it's mine. It's all… my mother's and… his.

I remember what he had said, all those days ago: '…decided to visit a few friends of mine who lived in the Pelek Baw settlement on the planet Haruun Kal. Kissed the wife goodbye and took off with my copilot… …kidnapped by slave merchants… …Soon enough, there was a little girl, couldn't be older than four, trailing after her, clutching her hand. On that hand was a ring…'

It fit. He changed a few key elements to throw anyone off his track…

He wanted to be dead. And it worked. It worked remarkably.

Everything happens in tantalizing slow motion. Barely moments pass, and two lightsabers, green and purple, slash their way through the reinforcements at the door, just as my mother's lightsaber depowers and clatters on the floor.

I raise my deep brown eyes to my mother's, mine a reflection of hers. I see fear, confusion, nostalgia, shock, reminiscence. Hers slowly pass from mine – they are welling with unshed tears – to those of the man beside me.

I look at Luke's piercing blue gaze down the hall, and he meets my eyes square. He's disbelieving. I know it. I feel it.

All of our attackers are dead, so my aunt gently presses the pad to close the door.

I look at Luke again. He's shaking his head, but those brilliant blue eyes are fixated upon the man to my left.

My glance slides over to Mara; her radiant green pass over from Luke, in concern, to me. She's tense, though not quite as… encumbered as my mother and her twin. She looks apologizing, and shocked as well.

My gaze shoots – slowly, somehow – back to my mother. She's sinking slowly to the floor, and I reach to help. My hand moves in the air stiffly, her knees collapse not nearly as fast as reality should have it; her dark brown, beautiful, ever-the-same gaze is clouding.

Then, finally, I look at the person who's the cause of all of this emotion, shock, fear, confusion, disbelief.

And my brown eyes connect directly with the cool, slightly narrowed, hazel gaze of Han Solo.