It was a wonderful party; a stately affair held in a reconstructed ballroom within the Imperial Palace— all former signs and symbols of the Galactic Empire hurriedly replaced with the crest of the New Republic. Glittering yellow lights illuminated round tables— each hosting a numbered placard beside a centerpiece of faux corusca crystals. Fine dining and silverware were set impeccably before each and every seat, complete with soup spoons and butter knives and every length of fork one could possibly need. And burgundy cloth napkins that were likely a sin to dirty. A dance floor most were rather using to chat and mingle shone under the illumination of ornate, gold chandeliers. Accompanying the scattered conversation and laughter was an orchestral ensemble consisting of four stringed instruments occasionally joined by a grand ebony instrument which shined under one of the chandeliers, sparkling along its dozens of ivory keys. The elegant quartet played both soft and lively tunes, perhaps hoping to inspire any number of those attending to dance.
The crowd, for their part, at least occupied the space and gave it life with their polite and spirited conversation and jovial— but appropriate— laughter. Making up the list of attendees were the growing numbers of senators, diplomats, military servicemen, and leaders of the fledgling New Republic. All dressed in their very best— from military suits to evening tuxedos and modest but lavish gowns and dresses.
Gone was the roguish, militaristic impression of the Rebel Alliance. Now, this was the New Republic, heralded by their charismatic and golden Head of State Mon Mothma.
Han had caught a glimpse of the esteemed leader moments before, greeting the heads and senators of a few dozen different systems and planets, a warm and hopeful smile upon her face. Of course, he'd greeted her as well along with Leia upon entering the ballroom for themselves. Now, however, Han caught sight of the Chief of State once more as she approached a number of her colleagues from the Provisional Council. He watched as she raised her glass of champagne in greeting, settling an arm on Admiral Ackbar's shoulder and smiling graciously to Borsk Fey'lya. Once it seemed the group was truly absorbed in what was no doubt some mindless and incredibly boring conversation, Han moved his gaze along.
This time, his eyes fell upon one of the youngest members of the party. One of the newest representatives of the New Republic, Matari Shahlik was the young governor of Kailor V, a small planet in the Core that didn't host much in the way of population and culture, but interestingly enough was home to the Imperial Zoological Gardens. Leia had mentioned a few times how much she wanted to visit Kailor V and see those gardens for herself. But Han might not have even remembered which system the young diplomat hailed from, let alone what points of interest his home planet boasted. All he cared about currently was the leer Shahlik was directing towards the number twenty-five table where Han sat with Leia.
Now, Han was a logical man, and he considered circumstances before he made his judgment. But Han had not yet heard any whispers that the young Governor Shahlik favored men, human or otherwise, so Han directed a harsh scowl his way until Shahlik noticed and quickly made himself scarce.
Rather pleased with what Han deemed a fitting response, he allowed himself a brief moment to relax and bask in the minor victory before setting his sights once more.
There were plenty of victims left for Han to claim, several even bold enough to return after Han had conveniently steered them away. Mostly human men, but plenty of aliens, as well. Rodians, Bothans, Twi'leks, Togrutas. At one point, Han even caught a Gamorrean looking Leia's way. Though, maybe, the Gamorrean was just looking in their general direction. But Han wasn't about to take any chances. He picked out a burly prince of some Outer Rim system and held his stare until the man just rolled his eyes and walked away.
"That is a very generous offer, Senator, but I must decline. Thank you. Please, enjoy the food and company."
Han startled and turned his neck to see a well-tanned and handsome diplomat leaning over Leia, his face fixed into some awkward position Han supposed made him feel like some hot commodity. Leia, for her part, smiled politely, betraying nothing as she managed to wave him off with a gracious gesture, arm extended, her freshly polished and manicured nails shining beneath the golden lights.
The man took a nanosecond too long to make haste for Han's taste, however, and Han straightened in his seat, leaning closer to Leia. "I don't think she's interested, buddy."
Underneath the table, Leia snatched his hand before Han even realized he was raising it. "Enjoy your night!" she called after the senator as he finally retreated.
"You need to relax." Leia's voice was stern, but her outward demeanor was as welcoming and pleasant as ever as she nodded and waved to friends passing by.
"How can I? Every male in here is leering over you like I'm not even here."
Leia raised a sharp brow. "Every male?"
"Fine. Half of them." Han shuffled in his seat, sitting forward as he once again scanned their surroundings. "And the other half that aren't leering at you are laughing at me."
Han couldn't blame them, really. Not the beings—male, female, and other— who stared at Leia, half leering and half merely in awe and wistful desire. Leia was a dream tonight, resplendent in a white evening dress that clung to her form. The skirt was plain, snug at her hips, suggestive of the shapely legs beneath, but loose enough to allow plenty of movement. The top was all done up in lace, a collar nearly snug to her throat, while a strap fell off each shoulder. Stitched at each point behind her was a clear veil that added some sense of regality to her look. But up the middle of her dress, starting just above her belly button and creeping up to her breasts was a slit in the white fabric beneath the lace. Han had plenty of plans to investigate later, but no one else needed to go snooping their nose anywhere near.
Her hair was done up in a low messy bun, discreetly pinned together at the nape of her neck. Loose tendrils drifted about her creamy shoulders and around her face, drawing attention to the braid framing one of her temples. Han especially looked forward to helping her find all the hidden pins and combing out the wavy tresses. By now, he was certainly an expert.
So, no, Han couldn't blame a single soul in this ballroom for sparing the princess a glance and looking upon her unparalleled beauty. But a generous portion of the room would then look to Han after considering the princess in all her splendor. And it was the looks of dismay and dubious amusement that they threw his way. Disbelief, Han knew. Ridicule, confusion. Confusion as to how the princess could possibly settle for a man of Han's background and status. Of this, he was certain.
"Don't tell me you actually care what they think?" Sure, Leia found amusement in this. Maybe she had missed the credits floating across the room, exchanging hands.
"Well, it's kinda hard to ignore."
From the corner of his vision, Han watched her purse her lips. "You're focusing on a handful of beings in a crowded ballroom."
"Those are just the ones who don't bother trying to put on a nice face."
"Han." Leia turned in her seat to face Han, finding his hand beneath the table and taking it firmly in her own. "They don't know anything about us."
From where it adorned her hand on the second to last finger, a bright diamond winked up at him.
"They think it's a joke, Leia! There are rumors that it's a public relations move."
Leia pretended to consider that as she regarded the crowded ballroom. "Well. That's not a very wise PR move, then, is it?"
"Leia."
She laughed. Actually laughed. Han couldn't find it in himself to become short with her.
"Han, my love, there will always be rumors. There will always be idiots. It doesn't matter what they think they know. We know each other, and we know that we've found something special. All that matters is the decision we've made and that it's real."
"And still, they think they got the right to pass judgment like they know me."
"Han," she cupped his cheek in her palm, trying to get him to look at her. "I know you." Tenderly, she kissed his temple.
"It pisses me off to sit here and watch all these bastards leer at you like you're a prize to be won while they also think you've lost your mind."
"Their stares mean nothing to me, Han."
He nodded to himself, trying to push past what he knew was only childish insecurity. But Leia used three fingers to turn his chin back to her so he was looking her in the eyes. Without an ounce of hesitation or regret— with even pride— Leia told him, "What, you don't think I know my own mind? Of every male in this room, of every being in this galaxy, I only have eyes for you."
He knew that. Kriff, he knew that! She had proved it time and time again, proved it every day to him by her dedication and the small daily gestures.
He despised this about himself, that he let himself get so bothered by what everybody else thought, whether everyone else believed he could provide for Leia and give her everything she deserved. Sometimes, he doubted himself and what all he had to offer her. But he loved her. Endlessly. Unconditionally. Fathomlessly. And she, him. And in his heart of hearts, Han knew that was enough.
Sometimes, he just wished everyone else knew it, too.
"Come on."
Before he knew it, Leia was standing over him, one hand reaching down to him. He looked back up at her quizzically.
"Come on," she smiled. "I want to go to the dance floor."
"Sweetheart, you know I'm no good on my feet," he objected even as he rose.
She shook her head, grinning as she tugged on his arm. "You're a lot better than you give yourself credit for. Besides, we aren't dancing."
"Huh?"
Without another word, she led them to the dance floor. Choosing a spot near the middle of the crowd, Leia waved to diplomats and service beings alike, her smile a soft, ethereal glow as they all parted for her. She finally stopped, pulling Han to her and lifting her arms up around his neck.
"What are we doing, Leia?"
She started them with an easy sway, chin tilted up so her dark gaze never left his.
If this was all she wanted, Han couldn't complain. This really was his favorite view, staring into her depthless, warm, brandy eyes. He could get lost in them. Actually, he often did— often found himself losing track of minutes, hours, days because he was so transfixed. No one else has ever done that to him.
They merely swayed to the music for a minute before Leia took a breath, seemingly at complete peace. She rested her head against his chest and said to Han, "I want you to touch me."
At first, Han was sure he'd heard her wrong. Or, perhaps, his imagination had gotten ahead of him and now he was fantasizing about later. But Leia tilted her head to look at him again, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as she repeated, "Touch me, Han. Now."
His first touch was unsure, confused amidst the sudden demand, but he removed one hand from her waist to trace up to her side.
Leia groaned, eyes rolling dramatically. "Come on, flyboy. You can do better than that."
"We're at a gala with all your coworkers and the New Republic's highest officials. What do you want me to do?"
She grinned. "Kiss me."
Still surprised, and considerably confused, Han quickly brushed his mouth to her lips, kissing her delicately, discreetly.
"That was pathetic."
Han did it again, bending down to reach her, despite the crick he knew he'd get in his neck later. He captured her lips securely between his, feeding into Leia's apparent desire. He made it last long enough, soaking up the very flavor of Leia from her wet lips.
"There you go, flyboy!"
"Leia, what are we doing?"
"Down."
"Down?"
"Kiss me. On my jaw."
Again, Han obliged, discreetly pecking her jawline.
"Again. Keep moving down."
"What kind of sly game are you getting at, sweetheart?"
"Less talking."
Han swallowed the last sound from her mouth with another searing kiss, fully willing to play along if this was what she wanted. Still, she caught him by surprise yet again as he felt her nimble hands move across his waist and suddenly begin untucking his dress shirt. He tried to ignore it, moving his own attention to her neck, peppering her jawline with soft kisses until Leia whispered, "Nibble my ear."
He chuckled to himself, then forged a trail of kisses back up her outstretched neck to seize the lobe of her ear between his teeth.
Leia moaned, and Han nearly shuddered as her hands came up to unknot his tie and loosen the top of his shirt. A few quiet gasps sounded around them even before Leia followed her hands' path with her mouth, leaving solid and precise kisses up his chest and throat.
At this point, he could tell they had more than a few onlookers. If nothing else, he could feel the cold stares of Leia's colleagues— the men and women who answered to Leia, the senators of the New Republic, the members of the Provisional Council. Han could almost imagine the glares Mon Mothma, Threkin Horm, and Airen Cracken must have all been pointing their way.
But Han was absorbed in Leia. Her soft, smooth skin, the curve of her neck, the smell of her shampoo and that Alderaanian ladalum perfume Han had found for her months ago. The warmth of her body, the strength in her hands.
Stars, was she incredible. The most stunning creature in the galaxy. The angels of Iego had nothing on her. The Queen Mother of Hapes wished she were half this beautiful.
Kreth, Fey'lya wished he held this much power.
But Leia was perfect. Perfect for him, at least. Not perfect, but just perfect in the sense that there was nothing Han didn't love about her. Nothing he could bring himself to resent. Nothing he thought he could let go of and never miss. Every little part of her was essential to him. And she was in his arms.
"Now, grab my ass."
Han choked. Now, he knew he must be dreaming. "What?"
"What?" Leia raised a brow, all too confident as she prodded, "Too chicken, flyboy? I know how I look in this dress."
"It's just— you sure you want to do this in front of everyone? Got quite a few people staring."
"How clumsy of me. I thought you realized that was the point. Now, lover of mine. Grab. My. Ass."
Han didn't need to be told a third time, and he abruptly placed his hands low enough to grab her rear. His movement was quick enough that even Leia gasped in genuine surprise. But then she grinned, eyes twinkling. Perhaps amused. Han didn't care. He loved that grin, loved the feel of her in his hands. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
Hard? Hardly. This was barely the beginning of the things Han enjoyed doing to her. But just about every eye in the room was on them. And suddenly, Han didn't care. For only moment did he consider how they looked, what everyone else saw as he and Leia swayed to the gentle string melodies. His hands on Leia's ass, her eyes closed and lips turned up in a drunken-like smile as she leaned into him. He looked down at her to admire the heavenly look on her face when he caught a glimpse of red on his white shirt and realized that Leia's lipstick had marked her trail.
"You know, this isn't how a Princess should behave in public."
"Kriff 'em. They seem to have missed the message, so I'm just making sure they get it."
"Oh, I think they're getting the message, sweetheart."
But Han truly could not find it in himself to care any longer. He thought himself drunk off the feel of Leia in his arms, and he never wanted to let go.
He couldn't be sure if it was two songs later, five, or if they'd ever gotten through the first one when Leia suddenly stirred, blinking her big, beautiful brown eyes as she glanced at something behind Han.
"Oh, no." Leia sighed a mournful sound, tightening her embrace around Han. "We have trouble."
"What?"
"Mothma doesn't like how we're behaving."
"We?" he echoed incredulously as dismay flashed across his face.
Leia ignored the jest, peering on her tiptoes. "She's sending Threkin Horm over to distract us."
Han snorted. "Let him try."
"Princess," Horm, the president of the Alderaanian Council, called as he came riding along in the repulsor chair designed to carry his weight.
From over Han's shoulder, Leia directed a smile Horm's way, and Han took his time detaching himself from Leia as the elder man approached. Leia, however, didn't let him go far, keeping one arm wrapped securely around his waist.
"Captain." Threkin regarded Han with half a glare and about as much praise and approval as most granted Fey'lya. He quickly turned his focus back to Leia. "I don't believe I have yet expressed my— congratulations to the two of you on your recent engagement."
Leia hummed happily and tilted her head towards Han in a seemingly innocent gesture, keeping one arm around Han and setting her other hand on his chest, flashing the diamond on her finger. "Thank you, Horm." She glanced up at her fiancé. "Han and I couldn't be happier."
Horm swallowed, clearly uncomfortable, and the man struggled to even summon a convincing smile. He just nodded curtly, his throat bobbing like he was trying to swallow something especially unsavory. Without another word, he turned his chair back around and left.
"Well," Leia sighed as though utterly bored, trailing her hand down Han's chest. "I think I've made my point." She winked at Han. "What do you say we go home and take this to bed?"
Han snorted even as he took Leia's hand to head back to their table and quickly grab their things. "What, you don't want to put on a whole performance for you colleagues?"
Leia's answering grin was purely wicked, and Han could hardly miss the way her gaze twinkled with mischief as she took his arm. "Come, now. That would just be indecent."