Author's Notes: Thank you for the kind reviews, everyone. Again, here's my response to them:
Clare: Thank you! I definitely plan to!
Stormygurlz: Yeah, I thought the original COPL was lacking many things…particularly accurate characterizations. I don't pretend to claim that I'm remedying all the problems, but consider this an attempt. So I hope my additions and modifications are to your liking!
Princess-Kinky: I definitely agree about the snubbing Han all the time thing. I always thought it took a plausible beginning for Leia's behavior and then just went completely down the wrong path. I mean, I can see Han and Leia having all sorts of arguments and being a little harsh to each other on occasion because, like you said, they both have very strong wills. But I don't think the original COPL really portrayed that realistically.
Pitdroid: My feelings exactly! Don't you just want to hug Leia and then give her a sturdy shove in the right direction? But I think that situations are usually a lot more murky-looking when you're actually in them than when you're just observing, and I wanted to illustrate that. Plus, when you pull a guilt-trip on someone as self-sacrificing as Leia, especially with her history, I would imagine that she reacts.
Princess Daisy: Well, I'm making some minor changes and fixing lots of typos and things, so I'm glad to hear that you're interested enough to re-read. Don't worry- only about five more chapters and then it'll be new stuff for you! (I know, because it isn't written yet!) Glad to see you made it to the forum, too!
Audreidi: Oh, please share! About the insinuations, I mean. I hope I'm making them on purpose…or at least semi-consciously. It would be great to here your thoughts about some of the more detailed aspects, here. My email is stardust6120yahoo.com if you'd like to comment further and don't feel like doing it here.
Chapter 3:
Leia refrained from rubbing a hand across her eyes with considerable effort as she stepped out of the Conference room. 'Figure it out for yourself. Make the right decision.' Sure, Mon Mothma, no problem. I'll do just that, she thought sarcastically to herself. She reflected semi-optimistically that the day (and week, for that matter) couldn't possibly get any worse than it already was.
Unfortunately, she was wrong. At that moment, Isolder, crown prince of Hapes and most eligible bachelor in the galaxy, stepped around the corner of the hallway, holding a large bouquet of N'srelli flowers, a species unique to Alderaan. She hadn't even known that they still existed. Some lucky girl had probably just been given some as a good-bye present before going off-world when Alderaan was destroyed, and had suddenly been the possessor of the sole remaining N'srelli seeds in the Universe. But Leia did not think of any of that at the moment. Instead, she concentrated on maneuvering her facial features into a happy, pleasant expression that betrayed none of her exhaustion or frustration.
"Leia," Isolder greeted her, bowing low over the hand she extended out of habit. She regretted it immediately when his warm lips brushed briefly against her skin, inflaming both the nerves at the spot they touched and the color of her cheeks.
"Your highness," she managed, "I was not expecting the pleasure of your presence today." What a dumb sentence, she frowned mentally, erasing any sign of displeasure before he rose completely.
"I'm sorry if I have caused any undue disruption in your schedule, Leia," he said in that low, melodic voice of his, "I wanted to bring you these. I thought they might remind you of your native Alderaan. A beautiful world, if I may say so. It is no wonder that it produced beautiful women such as yourself."
I guess he doesn't know about my true parentage…not that I know any more about my mother than he does, but…I wonder if he would still say things like that if he knew about my father. She found herself blushing again, anyway. It was pleasant to be flattered every once in a while. She accepted the flowers, nodding and trying to smile. A few tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. Is this what Bail would want? Would he want me to make this decision- to lose Han but get so much for the New Republic in the process…provide for what's left of his people, so that they could rebuild their lives? She found herself unable to think about that and decided to concentrate on the moment instead.
"That is very kind of you, Your Highness. I am flattered and embarrassed by your compliments and your generosity," she told him, smoothing some semblance of her customary pleasant expression onto her face.
"I am glad my gift pleases you, Leia. Would it also please you to accompany me to lunch, by any chance? I understand how busy you must be, such an instrumental official in the New Republic, but even Councilors must enjoy a repast every once in a while. You might find that I am not such bad company for a short meal- I have become skilled at brief meals, the stars know my mother has made them a habit in our household." Leia found his hesitancy and almost-shyness charming and adorable, even though the cynic in her protested that they were most probably contrived- training to do such things seemed to be a staple among influential young suitors. Han. The name cut across all of her other thoughts. Here I am, falling under this guys spell and I've only known him for two days…and Han is waiting for me at home. He'll kill me if I go out to lunch with his new rival- especially without warning him beforehand.
Isolder squeezed her hand warmly and she only just barely refrained from flinching; she hadn't even noticed he was still holding it. His eyes spoke of nothing but hope that she would grant him a few hours…
"I am sorry to say that I already have plans for the next few hours. But I would be glad to accompany you to dinner tonight. There is a very nice restaurant near-" she began, hoping she didn't sound as torn as she felt. Responsibility…or my heart?
"Do not trouble yourself with the details, my princess. Your idea sounds quite perfect. I will pick you up at your apartments tonight at 0600, then?" he said gallantly.
"That…that will be fine. I will look forward to that time, then," she nodded, her cheeks starting to flush red again in embarrassment at the awkwardness of her own speech, while her insides squirmed at his 'my princess'. Since when does he have permission to get so possessive? And where'd all that diplomatic training go…is this because I feel like I'm betraying Han?
Isolder nodded, too, solemnly bending over her hand once more before he left. As she watched him go, she noticed the straightness of his back and the preciseness of his gait as he walked…he was most definitely a prince. His boots made satisfying tapping noises as he walked, and his clothes rustled fluidly as he rounded the corner and stepped out of her view. Leia sighed. He had everything one could want…so why did this feel so wrong?
She found out exactly why as she stepped into her apartment and found Han waiting, presumably to greet her with a hug or a kiss, like he usually did. He stepped towards her…and stopped, as he saw the flowers in her arms.
"Alderaanian N'srelli flowers?" he commented, "Somebody must be showing off. What is it, does one of your planets need some extra reinforcements or permission for some protective-tariff or something?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and moving to take them from her.
"Um, no, actually…" Leia began, not sure what to say.
"Here, I'll put 'em in some water for you," he said, "I thought these things were extinct…oh, well. Hey, I made us some lunch…the flowers I put on the table aren't nearly as big or expensive or rare, but the guy at the florist's in the lobby said they were the season's best-" his voice dropped off ominously, cutting his happy rambling short. Leia knew he had found the card attached to the bouquet.
"Oh. I see. Someone wants more than reinforcements and a tariff, huh?" he said quietly, "I thought you had a meeting with the council, not a date with that prince."
"Are you accusing me of lying to you, Han? Because that's ridiculous. You saw my messages for yourself. Are you going to suggest I doctored them so that it would look like I had a meeting so I could go clandestinely meet Isolder? I think you've been watching too many holo-vids recently, Han. He came by after the meeting to give me these flowers- it was a completely unsolicited action but very kind on his part, don't you think?" Leia retorted angrily. Why did Han always have to make things so difficult? She bit her lip. I have to tell him about our date tonight someday…
Han was silent, arranging the flowers in a vase. Damn him. It would be so much easier if he'd just say something…
"I don't keep things from you, Han. Want me to prove it? I'm meeting Isolder tonight at six, for dinner. He asked me right after he gave me the flowers," she said, her insides contorting with pain that mirrored what was in Han's eyes.
"That's fine," he said, putting the vase down, "that's really just fine. Because I had plans for dinner already, anyway. Actually, I have plans for right now. And since I don't seem to be a part of your plans, I'll see you later. Have a good time with Prince Charming."
He stormed out of the room at full speed, grabbing his vest on the way out. That was never a good sign. His vest contained the credit-chips he called his 'chance money,' his vibro-blade, his palm blaster…and not his com-link. When he went out with his vest, it usually meant he was planning to go to some seedy tap-café in a less-than-reputable part of the under-levels and get good and drunk over a game of sabacc. He always (or almost always) got home with minimal damage…but then, he almost always never left without at least a rough kiss to show that he wasn't permanently mad, that he'd be in a much better mood when he got home and woke up the next day.
Leia shook her head and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, going over to the table where Han had carefully arranged a simple lunch for them. When she saw that he had cooked one of her favorite Corellian dishes (or, rather, one of the few that she could actually enjoy), traladon steaks with fresh vegetable sauce, the tears overflowed and rolled down her cheeks. At the center of the table was another, simpler vase, with Corellian Love Blossoms. On Corellia, you only gave Love Blossoms to someone you really and truly loved. Of course, off-world, the tradition was used much more loosely, but still…it was almost akin to being engaged, on Corellia. For my girl, the small card said, enjoy. Well, the lump in her throat and the tears clouding her eyes prevented her from enjoying any aspect of the meal, so she went to her bedroom and lay down for a short nap, instead.
Han Solo strode through the lower streets of Coruscant, angry with himself and with Leia, neither of which was a pleasant feeling. He'd stormed out of her apartment just over an hour ago and taken three different turbo-lifts downwards for a total of 57 levels below where he had been originally. Once there, he'd gone into the first decent-looking bar he saw, and was promptly assailed with an image of Leia and Isolder and on the newsvids playing in the corner. Partly because of the unpleasant content and partly because of the uncomfortable angle the holo-machine was placed at, he tried to avoid looking at it…but despite that, he kept being drawn to it anyway. Leia chatting with Isolder…Isolder giving her flowers- how had they gotten a vid of that already? When Isolder kissed her hand again, Han jumped up from his seat, refrained from shouting a stream of unsavory curses right then and there, tossed a few credits at the bartender and left, fuming. That jerk has no right to Leia…I love her, she loves me, he doesn't belong in the picture. Leia just needs to figure that out, damn it.
Resolving to show Leia how much she meant to him, how much he was willing to sacrifice for her, he went up a considerable amount of levels- until he was back to a more civilized part of town, and looked around at the shops. Well, flowers have already been covered. She's got more baubles from that moron than any girl could ever want. Artwork…I've already given her all the Alderaanian artwork I could lay my hands on. Food…furniture…clothes…she has all of that, damn it!
Finally, he gave up, shaking his head, and decided that what Leia really needed at the moment was some kindness and sensitivity and understanding, no matter how angry and frustrated he was. He took another turbo-lift to go up the remaining levels between the shopping district and the residential area where Leia's apartment was.
It was 0400 by the time he arrived at her apartment, and it was silent. Peeking into her bedroom confirmed his suspicion that she was asleep. She looked so defenseless and vulnerable that he was tempted to put his arms around her and keep her safe from everything…but that would probably wake her up, so he went to her closet instead. He pulled out a very becoming dress (at least she won't accuse me of trying to make her look bad so he won't like her…) and laid it out on the dressing rack, trying to remember what shoes and jewelry she had worn with it the last time he had seen it on her. (Oh, screw it, I'll make Threepio figure it out.) Next he drew a deep bath for her, with actual water, and dimmed the light a little. (That'll be relaxing, she'll be in a better mood.) And finally, he went to wake her.
After gently brushing her lips with his, he smoothed a few strands of hair off her face.
"Leia," he called softly, "sweetheart, it's 0430; you have a date with a prince in an hour and a half."
"Hm?" she murmured, turning her face to his and opening her eyes slowly, "oh, thanks, Han, I must have slept through the alarm" she said, raising an eyebrow that clearly said 'where'd your bad mood go?'
"I turned it off. This is a lot more fun, right?" he said, scooping her off the bed in one smooth motion and carrying her to the 'fresher, "I ran a bath for you."
"Oh, Han, that's so sweet of you. Thank you," she said again, giving him a peck on the cheek to show she was quite sincere and relaxing against his shoulder. This is the Han I remember…
An hour later, the Han she remembered was gone once more, and a very disappointed guy had taken his place. Her hair up, her make-up on, and her dress fitting her to perfection, Leia was standing, astounded, in front of an almost-pouting Han. Some part of him had been hoping that if he was supportive enough, Leia would just laugh and say, 'oh, Han, why don't we go out, just the two of us. It's been so long since we had a real date.' Unfortunately, a very irate Leia was standing in front of him saying, instead,
"But, Han, obviously I have to go. Why do you think I got all dressed up in this blasted uncomfortable dress and shoved pins into my hair for an hour? And why else do you think I would have told him I'd be waiting here at 0600- so I could just politely shut the door in his face and say, 'oh, sorry, there's been a change in plans'? Come on, Han, think a little, here."
"I still don't see why you have to go anywhere with that bastard at all," Han practically whined. Damn, I sound ridiculous. Why the hell did I ever come back here?
"Han, I've told you a million times in the past ten minutes…oh, you know what? Never mind. I'm not going to get all upset about this right now. I don't have time to argue with you. We'll discuss it when I get home, if you really feel the need. I'm going to go wait in the lobby. At least that way I'll be sure you won't do anything embarrassing."
"Sure. Fine. But don't expect me to be here when you get home. I've had enough of this," Han fired back at her, turning on his heel to retrieve his vest from the main room. Leia resisted the urge to burst into tears and tapped the door-control. When it slid open, she left towards the turbo-lift, without looking back.
Isolder was already down in the lobby, seated gracefully in one of the chairs there, probably waiting until it was 0600 to go up to her apartment. At least he doesn't mind waiting for me, she thought sardonically.
"Leia!" he greeted her, jumping up with equal grace, "I hadn't expected you so early; forgive me for not being at your door on time." Leia tried not to cringe. Not many people called her Leia- Mon Mothma and Admiral Ackbar, most of the rest of the Inner Council, Han, what few close friends she had here on Coruscant- but most of them had earned the right to call her that in some way or another. Perhaps she had worked with them for years, like Mon Mothma and Ackbar. Perhaps she saw them every day, like the Council members. Perhaps they were even just good friends who had dispensed with formalities for the sake of convenience. Or they were…well…Han. In any case, no matter who they were, they had earned the right to call her by her first name; she had always felt uncomfortable when anyone else so casually used the name that was so private to her.
"Your highness," she returned the greeting, trying not to sound as cold as she felt towards him right then, "It's all right. I was ready early and thought that I might as well come wait for you down here to save you the trouble of going up."
"Call me Isolder," he said, smiling graciously at her and offering her his arm.
"Well, Isolder," Leia said as her diplomatic training came back to her, "what plans did you have for this evening?"
"How does the Coruscant Spire sound to you?"
"Just lovely."
And off they went into the spacious private speeder Isolder had waiting. Han watched from Leia's balcony above, for once thankful that it was a one-way view-port. You could see out, but you sure as heck couldn't see in- gods only knew he'd tried to see if Leia's light was on enough times. He let out a guttural growl, surprising himself with the intensity of his anger towards Isolder…and the desperation of his desire to hold Leia back from him.
Enough of this. I gotta get out of here. And this time I sure as hell won't be waiting for her when she gets back like a regular housewife. And with those thoughts firing his anger even more, he stomped out of the apartment, his vest swung casually over his shoulder. And I'd better not meet any highfalutin senators in the turbo-lift, for their sake.
A half-hour later, he was down even further than he had been that afternoon, with only one thought blaring through his head like a mantra: gotta get Leia back from that bastard. Gotta get Leia back from that bastard. He came upon what he was looking for- a sufficiently seamy tap-café that proclaimed from a multi-lingual neon sign that it had some 'rooms' in the basement. He glanced around to make sure no muggers were following him, and ducked in.
All five of his senses were immediately assaulted with the squalor of the place. The smell of crude alcohol and potent spice mixed with filth and the sweat of too many species to discern permeated the hazy air. Smoke and darkness stung his eyes so that he had to blink to keep them from tearing too much. A very drunk and very mediocre jizz band played half-heartedly in a corner. Two Devronians were having what resembled a fight but could just as well have been a marriage proposal at one of the tables. Han could hear at least twenty languages (and those were only the ones that he recognized) being spoken at various tables in the room. But the sound he was listening for came distinctly from the stairwell in the back of the room: the sound of sabacc droids dealing hands, gambling chips clinking on tables, and angry sentients arguing over their losses.
Han went up to the bar and figured he'd grab a drink or two before proceeding downstairs. He felt too uptight to play at the moment- you couldn't win if you didn't take chances and he certainly didn't feel up to taking any chances at the moment.
"Corellian whisky," he said, flipping a decicredit out of his pocket and onto the counter. The bartender took it, squinted at it, and put it through his casher, waiting for the warning light to come on. It didn't. Satisfied that it was real, he grunted and went to get Han's drink.
Two whiskies and an ale later, Han felt quite ready to take a few chances- and win them, at that. He ordered one more ale (you never knew when you might want to sip or spill your drink to stall while you thought things over) and indicated the stairs with his head before sliding off his barstool and going down.
The gaming room was even smellier and dirtier than the upstairs, if that was possible, but Han didn't mind too much- the three drinks he had already downed might have had something to do with it. He concentrated on looking around casually to see what his competition looked like. At one table, two angry Ithorians were, uncharacteristically enough for their species, shouting at each other with the strange acoustics of Ithorian voices. Han decided not to go for that table. After looking around just a little longer, he saw a table in the back that might suit him. A Chadra-fan appeared to be losing- he wouldn't provide too much competition. A Kubaz was buzzing at him, probably urging him to either fold or make a move. And a Selonian female was deep in thought. She might make the game at least interesting for him. Don't get too cocky, Solo, he cautioned himself, been a while, what with all this general stuff…
"Mind if I join ya'," he asked, sauntering casually over. The Kubaz made a buzzing sound and the Selonian purred something. The Chadra-fan nodded. And the translator droid in the center of the table spit out a "Fine" in its metallic voice.
"Thanks. What's the money looking like?"
All three players offered some information and Han waited patiently for the droid to translate, not letting on that he understood Selonian and some rudimentary Chadran. The Kubese was a lost cause, though. Apparently, they were betting a considerable sum of money, and the Kubaz was getting nervous about it. Something also seemed to be bothering the Chadra-Fan.
"Aren't you…aren't you…forgive me, but you bear an uncanny resemblance to the General Han Solo," it finally said in broken basic.
"'S that gonna be a problem?" Han answered with his own question.
"No, of course not," the Chadra-Fan gulped, its ears squirming. Han guessed that was his species way of indicating nervousness. It folded ten minutes later. One down, two to go- must've had some Andris or some Glitterstim or some other none-too-legal stuff on him, thought Han. The Kubaz was eyeing its cards with increasing anxiety as well. When the Selonian picked up a card and laid down an Idiot's Array, it blared an anguished syllable that made it's snout flare up before throwing it's cards down in anger and stomping away.
"Only you and self remaining, at this time," purred the Selonian in awkward but passable basic.
"That's right, buddy. I think this calls for a celebration. How 'bout I buy you a little drink and we raise the stakes a bit, eh?"
"Humorous, human, but you have not succeeded to trick self. I will refuse to become intoxicated and allow you to keep all of my funds," the Selonian responded, exposing her teeth in what Han assumed was the Selonian version of a grin.
"Okay, so I'll just have a drink and we'll raise the stakes anyway. Whaddaya say?" Han said. He took out a credit chip out of his hand, one with a considerable amount flashing on the indicator. The Selonian made a purring sound that Han took for a sigh.
"You push me to the limit of my funds, human, but your game intrigues me too much to end it now. Allow me a moment to contemplate what I have to match your offer." (Translation: lemme think what I can possibly offer you in return 'cause I already spent all my money, thought Han happily.)
"Ah. I have discovered the answer," the Selonian told him brightly after a moment, pulling something out of the side-pouch she was wearing, common enough among Selonians, although hers seemed to be made of green synth-leather, which was pretty pricey, these days. She pressed her thumb on a button on top of the thing, and a holo of a planet, twirling on its axis appeared in the air just above her hand.
"Holy…" Han breathed, "C'I see that for a sec?"
"Certainly, so long as you do not attempt to rob me of my possession," the Selonian agreed.
Han took the little black projector from his hand and pressed the button to make the planet appear again. Puzzled, he flipped it over. There was a screen on the other side, not unlike the indicator on a credit-chip, which proclaimed 'Dathomir'. When Han pushed the button to cycle the information displayed on the screen, a set of numbers appeared. His experienced pilot's eye recognized them as coordinates, indicating a location somewhere near the border between the Outer-rim and the Middle planets, more towards the Middle side. Cycling the information again brought up what he took to be the distance from Coruscant to the planet. And that was all the information the contraption contained. Han finally realized where he'd seen things like this before. The last time had been in the last Council meeting he'd attended with Leia before his mission: the planets whose system he'd just returned from had been petitioning to join the New Republic for a while, and Mon Mothma had just signed their membership. As a symbolic gesture, the Emissary from the planet had performed a brief ceremony during which he'd offered Mon Mothma the official deed to their planet for the Coruscant Archives to keep. And the deed had looked remarkably like this thing.
"You…you own this planet?" he asked in awe.
"That is correct," the Selonian answered, "Will it do, to compensate the large sum you have offered?"
"Yeah," Han said, trying to sound off-hand and calm, "ohh, yeah." It was only a few seconds later that he realized that winning this game and this planet might just solve all his problems: Leia can stick her Alderaanians on this planet. Then she won't need Prince Charming's money. And then he can go back to his stupid planets and leave me and Leia alone! He almost laughed with the irony of it. If I hadn't fought with her over that moron, I wouldn't have left and I wouldn't be here, solving our problems! He sobered himself a moment later: get a grip and concentrate, Solo. You ain't won the game yet!
The next few hands were unimportant and unexciting, but as Han's turn came around again, he noticed something crucial. The Selonian, unaware that Han could understand her native tongue, was talking to herself! Han casually hunched forward as far as he could without alarming the droid or arousing the Selonian's suspicions, pretending to study his cards. He could just about make out what she was saying.
"Nine and seven is sixteen, and one is seventeen. Half of the number cards I could acquire are below five, which would be safe, the other half are above, which would not…and a five exactly would give me twenty three…pure sabacc! What to do? What to do? Oh, may Selon grant me luck, I shall choose another card if the human does nothing drastic now!"
That muttered monologue being over, Han began to study his cards in earnest. He had close to an Idiot's Array. But if the card values suddenly changed to a Setting Three, which they were bound to do sooner or later…he'd end up with a total of negative twenty, putting him in an even riskier position than the Selonian. Beginning to sweat, he decided to take another card, hoping it was the one he needed to complete his hand. It was! Now if only the droid would wait just until after the Selonian's turn to change the Setting so he could put down his cards and declare himself the winner!
The Selonian's tail began writhing behind her, indicating her high stress level. Just as she chose a card and a triumphant grin spread across her face as she reveled in the fact that she had chosen a five, the droid beeped, changing the values of all the cards. With an enraged cry, she slumped back down in her seat, angry, but not ready to admit defeat yet. She now had a total of negative six, not close to anything. Han couldn't tell whether to be pleased or disappointed. I was so close…but she'd obviously just got pure sabacc, so that wouldn't've been good either. But, damn, so close and now I ain't got squat…hey, wait a sec, he interrupted his own thoughts, those are Setting Two values, not Setting Three! This thing ain't on a fixed schedule- it's a randomized randomizer! I've got pure sabacc! I won!
The Selonian all but roared when he jubilantly laid his hand out on the table, but she accepted her defeat gratefully and even thanked him for the entertaining game before going up to get drunk enough to forget her loss with the few decicreds she had left. Han, on the other hand, strode contentedly out of the bar, flashing a grin at the bartender, and took the most direct route back to Leia's apartment building, reflecting that this really wasn't the night to take chances with muggers. Upon arriving at Leia's building, he decided that he would wait for tomorrow to present this to her. He wanted to do it right, not looking grungy and smelling like filth and alcohol, as he was now. Not to mention that, now that his temporary 'high' from winning such a valuable game had subsided, he was feeling more than a little drunk. He left the lobby, earning a few confused looks from the few sentients on the night staff, who mostly knew him pretty well. Glancing around outside, he decided on a fairly reasonable but very comfortable and even mildly classy hotel on the other side of the Square.
As he settled into his bed with a gourmet dinner and a smashball game on the newsvids, after having taken a luxuriously hot and genuine shower, he decided that just maybe his luck was changing…for the better.
Meanwhile, Leia was deciding exactly the opposite for herself. Her meal with Isolder had been uneventful and full of amusing anecdotes and flattery on both sides. The food itself, of course, had been delicious and the ridiculously expensive Ithorian nectar-wine had been exquisite. And yet, though Leia refused to admit it to herself, this lavish dinner just couldn't compare with some of the quiet evenings she remembered spending with Han…or Luke…or even Bail Organa and his diplomat friends (at least she'd always had Winter to talk to, then).
"You seem far away, Leia," Isolder broke through her thoughts as the waiter droid cleared away their plates.
"I'm sorry," she began to apologize, but he interrupted her.
"It's all right. I, too, find it hard to concentrate here, especially with you across from me. You are beautiful, Leia," he said earnestly, "I'm sure you have been told so every moment of your entire life, but I must add my voice to the clamor. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Your hair, your eyes, your lips…everything about you is perfect in my eyes. I must tell you something, be honest with you. Although we both know that our marriage, if you agree to wed me, would be largely a political one, I must tell you that I feel I would come to love you very soon. Your beauty and your wit and kindness all feed my adoration for you every day…"
"Please," Leia finally cried, tears springing to her eyes, "please stop. I'm sorry. Your eloquence is touching, Isolder, but…I'm sorry. I can't listen to this in good conscience right now."
"You speak of General Solo," Isolder said, a slight stoniness creeping into his voice, "it's all right, my princess. I don't mind. I will wait as long as I need you- as long as you need to, to be ready. May I say, however, that you are worth so much more than he can ever give you?"
The tears wouldn't stop coming, though. Leia wiped them silently away during the entire ride home, until Isolder joined her and caught each one on a smooth, perfectly manicured finger as it fell. When they arrived at the door of her apartment, he kissed the last two away before Leia could stop him, and he finally pressed his lips, salty with her tears, gently to her own.
"I wish you a better night than the evening I have given you," he whispered as he released her and looked into her eyes once more before turning to go.
It's not the evening you gave me that was a problem, thought Leia ruefully, but the confused heart inside the one you brought to share it with you.