AN: Originally written in 2016. Crossposted from AO3. Complete.
Beware The Desert
TAKODANA – 34 YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE OF YAVIN
"I didn't know there was this much green in the whole galaxy."
Han should have seen it coming. He really should.
The simple yet charming smile, the quick reflexes, the sullied tan of endless days spent laboring under scorching heat, plus the rags she wore for clothes, stained with dirt from wherever barren wastes she hailed from, and the sand. Oh, the sand. The sand that stuck to her sweaty temples, the sand she trailed after her everywhere and went to join the remnants of that Tatooine dust ingrained in every nook and cranny of the Falcon, in the folds of the co-pilot seat Rey sat on.
Han couldn't bear it. Over the years, remembrance and loss had become one and the same for him. And sometimes, sometimes remembrance was a metaphorical punch in the face and a scruffy-looking girl overwhelmed with the sight of green.
The desert is coming to claim you.
Through the boundless stretch of time Han heard those words echo again. Every time he thought he had finally escaped them, they came back to haunt him and flaunt the truth in his face. He flexed his fingers in response, fighting the urge to turn back the ship and run.
"Initiating landing maneuvers!" Rey's excited directives called him back to reality.
"Yeah, right." Han groaned. He switched on the repulsorlift engine and eased the tension on the sublight drive, eyes trained on the sight before him.
Maybe visiting Maz's wouldn't be so bad. He could always do with a drink and a game of sabacc to clear his mind and get rid of the bad feeling in his gut.
NAR SHADDAA – MID YEARS OF THE GALACTIC EMPIRE
After three hours stuck in the Falcon's circuitry bay replacing power couplings and rerouting circuits, Han Solo and Chewbacca decided to call it quits and celebrate another job over and done with. The two of them had spiraled into a frenzy of repairs after the results of the post-flight diagnostics estimated the damage cost of their little trip to eat up more than half their pay. A thrilling conclusion to another meager smuggling venture.
"Put a cap on it, will ya?"
From the moment they'd landed, Chewie had gone on and on about Han's reckless flying and how they should stop taking jobs from Nar Shaddaa altogether. Han might have agreed with him if he hadn't been born with a staggering and crippling amount of Corellian pride.
He tried to focus on the small number of credits they did have to spend on themselves and doubled his step towards the nearest joint.
Chewie groaned exasperatedly behind him.
"Just sit down and have a drink, pal," Han muttered, sizing up two mean-looking Bothans at the entrance, "With this kind of folks around we can't go anywhere without packing some heat."
Han made a show of the blaster at his hip and the two Bothans snorted amused only to square up their shoulders and step back as Chewie's tall figure loomed over them.
"C'mon let's go."
While Chewie trudged towards the counter to order their drinks, Han drifted through the shifty crowd of spacers to find a quiet spot at the back, just how he liked it. Wall behind him, a nice view of the front door and no surprises. It made it easy to spot a mark for less honorable purposes, assuming there were any. A red head caught Han's eye soon enough, dark suit tight and fit, revealing sinewy limbs. A drink didn't seem to be what she had in mind though. Han noticed how subtly she blended in, picking up an unfinished glass from the counter and whispering a word of encouragement to the band. She started walking his way, their eyes met and her lips curled up in a smile. Nice teeth. Han felt his pulse pick up. If only Chewie would hurry up with that drink...
Han tugged at the collar of his shirt, growing rattled by both thirst and heat. The sultry air of the bar, filled with the stench of sweaty, drunk patrons, most of them blessed with a touch of the criminal, seemed to clog his lungs. His vision swam a bit and he wondered, not for the first time, if those stories about the use of hallucinogenic incenses in seedy joints like this were true. Either way, he felt like crap and the only thing sure to fix that was either a strong drink or a good lay.
The later turned out a bad bet. Han's high hopes for a pleasant rough and tumble went dead in the water two steps away from his booth. The red head had sat down in the company of a cloaked figure. The play of light and shadow hid his face from view but the Anzati details were impossible to miss. Han's back stiffened and he let his hand hover near his blaster, suddenly finding other reasons to wish Chewie's speedy return. He wasn't a big fan of the creepy snot-vampire sort.
To maintain a semblance of nonchalance, Han drew his gaze away from the suspicious pair, keeping an ear out for their murmured conversation. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck and he combed his fingers through his hair to shake off the queasy feeling building up in his stomach. Chewie's appearance made him sigh with relief.
"What took you so long, fuzzball?" Han grumbled, reaching a desperate hand towards the drinks.
Chewbacca howled a complaint and began spinning a tale about two rude Sullustan pilots which lulled Han back to total calm and control. He almost forgot about the red haired woman and the Anzat, who remained deep in conversation, with the Anzat taking her hand and drawing her near. Han couldn't comprehend how she'd favored a fella like that. He didn't consider himself the biggest catch in the galaxy, probably not the biggest catch in Nar Shaddaa, maybe not even the biggest catch in that particular joint, but between the two of them, c'mon, how blind did she have to be?
Clearly one drink wasn't enough to dispel the disappointment.
"I'm gonna get more of these." Han told Chewie before getting up. He strode towards the counter, eager to indulge his woes with more cheap brandy, and got temporarily acquainted with the 'rude Sullustans' of Chewie's ramblings who dispersed after exchanging a few choice words with Han's blaster.
"You really like to wave that thing around, don't you?" a seductive voice played by his ear.
Han turned around and met the red head's dark eyes boring into his. Her elbow leaned against the counter, hips jutting out. She painted a picture all right. Red, mysterious and dangerous. A combination that sent Han's blood running.
"Sometimes you just gotta." he told her.
"I've been watching you, pirate," she lowered her voice to urge him closer "Is that all you just- gotta?"
Oh, she knew how to play the game. A jolt of desire shook Han's entire frame and the imminent danger lit the match.
"Less pirate, more of a smuggler. I can show you the difference, except-" he nodded in the Anzat's direction, alone and somber at his table, "I might have to wave my thing around again." Han added patting his blaster.
"Oh him?" the woman let out a soft giggle, "He's no date of mine. Or anyone's. I've come to him for his services," she said, a glint of admiration in her eyes. "They call him The Seeker. He's sensitive to some kind of otherworldly powers and can see into your future."
"And you believe all that?" Han chuckled, "You're more foolish than you look."
The woman sent him a surreptitious glance but smiled all the same.
"I'll take that has a compliment."
"You do that."
The barman returned with Han's drinks and he downed his glass in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"So, seeing as he is no date of yours, can we get on with ours?" Han asked her directly, hoping to put an end to the mumbo jumbo talk that was positive to sour his mood.
"You know, he told me something about you," she continued undisturbed, "Said he didn't even need to look at your palm," her wicked black eyes, which a minute ago had been full of lust, shone with a clarity of belief Han failed to grasp, "He said visions like that are always certain. Inescapable. It's fascinating, isn't it?"
"Oh, yeah?" Han fought hard not to succumb to his off-putting sarcasm but, as usual, failed spectacularly, "And what did the magic brain-sucker say about me? That I was gonna score big tonight? Cause that's about as much as I'm willing to believe, sister."
The words fell from of his mouth with distaste and the woman's sleazy grin put him off almost as much as her reply.
"He said the desert is coming to claim you."
Han never thought leaving Nar Shaddaa for good, and for good meaning for an unforeseeable amount of time, could feel so liberating. The prospect of business on the Corporate Sector didn't fill his mind with dreams of gold and riches, but at this point anything would be better than that rotten moon filled with scum of the lowest kind. He hated how it rubbed off on him and forced him and Chewie to walk around with an eye over their shoulders every two seconds. They needed to branch out and Han needed to fly, to see the expanse of dark space and glittering stars swallow him and the Falcon whole.
That's the only thing he'd allow to claim him. Freedom. The stars.
Not the fucking desert.
What a joke.
ALLIANCE FLEET – THREE MONTHS AFTER THE BATTLE OF ENDOR
The lift's durasteel doors opened to give Han a view of the enclosed shuttle bay where a pair of old battered X-wings docked with more grace than their sight warranted. If Han didn't know who sat on the cockpit, he might have taken the display for some state of the art holo. But he'd know that piloting anywhere, as he would the ruffled mop of blond hair that emerged a minute later.
"Commander Skywalker, glad to have you back!" the deck officer saluted from afar.
Luke waved in response and climbed down from his fighter. Artoo's beeps accompanied his every step. From the fighter next to his jumped out the tall slim figure of a female pilot who, by the pins in her uniform, was a ranked officer as well. Han had a dim recollection of her from many Rebel incursions over the years, though the military types all blended together in his mind. He took it as an achievement every time he managed to put a name to a face right.
She walked towards Luke and mouthed a few words to him which granted her a warm smile in return. A mission well done by the looks of it. They shook hands and went their separate ways; Luke back to appraising the state of his fighter and astromech droid, and the officer towards the lifts. Her path led her straight to Han.
"General Solo." she greeted him with one of those tiresome military salutes Han would never get accustomed to.
"Lieutenant." he mumbled with feeble decorum. At close range he did recognize her. Shara Bey, Leia's assigned pilot on her mission to Naboo two months ago.
"In case we don't see each other again, it's been a pleasure to serve with you, sir."
Han sent her a quizzical look.
"You're retiring, uh?"
"Yes. I've been told looking towards the future is worthwhile, so I'm finally taking the advice." she said, stealing a glimpse over her shoulder at the black-clad Jedi.
Han tried hard not to laugh. If only Luke took his own little snippets of wisdom to heart.
"That will be the day." Han scoffed.
"And what day is that, sir?"
"Nothing. You go and get out while you can, Lieutenant."
"I will, sir. Please send my regards to her Highness."
Bey sent Han a curious look before disappearing into the lift, leaving Han wondering what kind of stories Leia might have told her about him behind his back. Nothing good to be sure.
Han crossed the flight deck in long strides, cutting a line towards the X-wings instead of the maintenance bay where the Falcon awaited him, distressed Wookie and all. They had two days to finish repairs on the old crate before rallying with an Intell unit on the Anoat System and make contact with the resistance fighters. A bunch of smugglers, gangsters and bounty hunters gone loyal. Impossible to miss the irony.
"Hey, kid." Han's cursory greeting snapped Luke out of his methodical examination of the X-wing's generators. He ducked under the fighter's hull and picked his pace to take Han's hand and shoulders. Their hugs always felt strangely like coming home.
Han patted him on the back and gave Luke's dark cloak a grim once over.
"How goes the quest for Jedi relics?"
"As good as can be expected." Luke curtailed with a sigh. Han's jaw clenched at his reserve. Although he wasn't a big fan of anything related to the Force, he would have appreciated something more elaborated, some sort of thread to pick up on. Luke's question gave him no time to improvise either.
"Where are you going next?"
"Somewhere on Anoat." Han shrugged his shoulders. Luke's brows furrowed.
"But the Iron blockade-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know about the Empire's blockade. No need to ruffle your feathers, kid. But the resident no-gooders and smugglers have established some kind of resistance there and have been trying to contact us."
"So Madine is sending you?"
"Well, you can imagine how hard I rolled my eyes when he dropped it on my lap, right?" the remark was supposed to make Luke laugh, but it didn't wring out a chuckle. Luke's deep blue eyes locked on Han, bashing him with silent grievances.
Han crossed his arms in defiance.
"Listen, don't put me through this again, Luke. Leia already gave me enough flak," he grumbled, "And she's one to talk- You both are! I don't even know where you fly off to half the time. So spare me the speech." he hadn't intended to sound so harsh, but a rush of indignation revived at Leia's name.
He's my brother.
Of all the revelations since Endor, the sibling's bond was the one Han still couldn't fathom. It popped in the back of his mind when he least expected it, assaulting his senses. A physical ache. The relief he had wallowed in after the disclosure had stopped making sense and given way to a restless uncertainty Han locked away tight and far from conscious thought.
"She doesn't want to see me." Luke said. His somber tone brought Han back from his inner turmoil and he homed in on Luke's melancholic expression. The bags under his eyes were proof he still endured the distance instilled by his sister.
"That's not true. She just needs time to sort it all out." Han replied tentatively. Solace wasn't Han's forte, yet he gave Luke's shoulder a light squeeze.
"I know." Luke nudged his forearm in thanks before drawing back. "To be honest with you, Han, I thought- I worried it would take you some time as well."
"What are you talking about?"
"To come to terms with it all." Luke's eyes darted over to Artoo whose bleeping had escalated after being pulled out of his socket, "Vader being my father. And Leia's. You know, everything."
"I guess it's something easier to take when it's not my burden to bear." Han put bluntly.
Luke nodded, chest full with a withheld breath.
"I would understand if you wanted to keep your distance, that's all."
A jolt of tension racked up Han's spine, bridling a bout of unexplained anger. The sight of Luke's head cast down, blond fringe shading his expression, infuriated him beyond belief. Han recognized the habit. A self-deprecating streak nobody had any right to ask of Luke, but which Luke grovelled in ever since Endor. Always shouldering the woes of the galaxy. Ashamed of his own. A load of Jedi nonsense.
Han's fingers found Luke's chin and tilted it up, bringing Luke's cloudy gaze to his.
"I'm fine where I am, kid. Make sure you remember that."
CORELLIA – NEW REPUBLIC ERA
A flurry of short muffled steps down the hall woke Han from his fitful sleep. He knew the culprit right away, one sneaky Ben Solo who couldn't keep his little paws off his uncle every time Luke came around to visit. Han couldn't blame him, Luke didn't shower him with a tenth of the love and affection he did his son and yet he could relate. They all could.
Leia, who struggled to sleep on a daily basis due to her busy schedule, never slept as peacefully as she did when he came. Her fights with Han, which lately teetered on the edge of a decisive break, subsided considerably. She trimmed her arsenal of arguments and even looked at Han with a kinder eye, open to his vulnerabilities and plights, which he, in turn, guarded to himself instead of exhibiting shamelessly as he usually did, proclaiming he didn't give a damn about the New Republic or how it was all shackles and manacles to him.
A desperate need, not quite to please Luke, but to hide their failures from him, took hold of them and in that unnatural way they hungered for his visits, ever so short, so his presence might glue their crumbling marriage together.
Han's disillusionment with his position in the military was no novelty. It hadn't been for six years. He considered it almost a pet resentment, something to nurture his drinking and bear the brunt of all his bad decisions. He had lost track of them by now and so must have everyone who thought the war was over after the Battle of Endor. What a hopeless dreamer he had been then. Hands full of everything he could ever want. Leia, Luke, Chewie, the Falcon, victory over the Empire. The whole universe back on track. Stupid. How could he, Han Solo, skeptic Corellian smuggler extraordinaire, have believed for a second that once the war was over, life would resume and stop giving him grief.
After Endor he was quickly reminded how peace was a mere concept. How the Rebellion survived and lived on stronger than ever under a different name. How Palpatine and Vader's deaths felt too small and inconsequential in the great scheme of things where the Empire's tendrils reached far and wide into dozens of star systems and continued to hold many planets and trade routes in their clutches. It took more battles every day to liberate those still oppressed, more deaths, more diplomatic missions, more politics and more bureaucracy, all of which seemed to smother Han little by little every day. A slow torture.
And he'd married into it.
He had had no notion at first. Love, rapture and hope had colored everything differently back then. He'd walked around blind to so many things, if he thought too long about them now he might throw up. Like Luke's subtle detachment to everything and everyone, how he'd burned his older self along with his father and allowed only the Jedi to come out intact. And Leia, her moment finally arrived, hopping into the political den and taking it for an arena, strength renewed and ready to rebuild from the ashes the lofty ideals she'd been fighting for all those years. What Han had considered the end had only been the real beginning for her.
Soon they began to drift apart. The bond they had forged during the Rebellion started to waver. Passion did little to assuage their contrasting views on every matter, from Han's risky assignments to Outer Rim worlds, to Leia's long absences on diplomatic missions to restore the senate, and of course, their views on Luke's role in their lives stood on complete opposite ends. Leia had shunned her brother away at first, wanting nothing to do with the Force or their father's legacy. She had wrestled against the worst in her nature to be at peace with the truth and, once she did, the twins became inseparable. They shared moments of mediation about the Force and Luke taught Leia patiently, welcoming every question and doubt alike as he did his own. He also indulged every diplomatic request she brought him and Han didn't know which part of their co-dependent relationship he abhorred more. He never thought he'd know jealousy towards them, the two people in the universe he cared the most about besides Chewie, but the feeling proved inevitable and intolerable. He hated being excluded and, though he was consumed with the same amount of anger towards both of them, he couldn't help but blame Luke. He wanted him gone.
Or maybe just shout at him. She's playing you for a fool, kid! They all are! You're acting like their puppet! What happened to you? But what would it even do besides echo in the hollow shell that had become his old friend? Yeah, friend. Were they even friends anymore? They had kept the word as a formality but Han knew nothing of the true meaning remained. He anguished over it. And he was jealous and bitter, bitter as only Han knew how. Looking at Luke from afar and beckoning those blue eyes to him was the same as sporting a bleeding sore in his gut. Yet having Luke's eyes on him was just as bad, if not worse. To gaze back at him and wanting to plunge in those blue depths to find nothing. A desert.
Han's conflicting emotions did not bode well on his already shaky relationship with Leia. But then a miracle happened. Leia got pregnant and Ben was born. It was like victory on Endor all over again, like the month long celebration after regaining Coruscant. Everyone banded together to congratulate the merry couple. Antilles brought the whole of Rogue Squadron with him, Lando took a week off his new mining business to be with the family and Chewie even flew the Falcon over to Endor so a few Ewok friends could come see the child. The happiness was contagious. It overflowed from the baby and engulfed everyone's spirits with it. Luke's eyes filled with tears the moment he saw him, and when Leia let him take Ben in his arms, Han could swear he saw the Force at work. Something beyond raw matter that bonded life together. He would never forget the sight.
Leia glowed, on the verge of tears herself. She was probably as speechless as Han witnessing the scene, the hollow Jedi shell filling to the brim, the return of Luke Skywalker, young hero wild with hope. That night Han might have gone back in time to Yavin Four, to the moment Luke's open arms received him, bursting with joy, elation coating his whole being. The only difference was, back then, Luke's younger self was too innocent not to jump in excitement and provide artless caresses. Now the closeness with the grown man was too intimate, too threatening. Han might have melted from their hug alone if the dazzling smile on Luke's face didn't force him to keep standing.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd held Luke so wholly and been held back the same way. The memory of Endor resurfaced, foggy and incomplete in contrast.
Luke released a breath over his shoulder, sated and relieved, and Han's skin scalded where it had grazed his neck. When Luke withdrew from his hold, Han had trouble letting go. One of his hands stayed on Luke's shoulder to anchor him to reality and hinder any chance of Luke slipping away.
"Leia's so happy, and the baby too." Luke said in amazement, starts danced in his eyes. Corellia's night sky yielded a cloudless canopy above the balcony and the sound of distant breaking waves lulled the coast to sleep.
"And me," Han said with a lopsided grin "And you."
Luke's smiled widened.
"I didn't think I could ever feel this much again." Luke confessed. He looked past Han, not really meeting his eye but throbbing with emotion, his mind far away. Han could feel the gentle tremor under his palm where it touched Luke's shoulder, and the sensation brought forth a surge of energy inside him, a yearning to have Luke close again, pressed against him, body warm over his own.
"Thank you." Luke said with a tender gaze set on him. The abrupt admission of gratitude made Han frown.
"Whatever for, kid?"
"For the baby. He is as much yours as he is Leia's," a glint of mischief crossed Luke's eyes, one Han hadn't seen in a long time, "Or am I gonna have to check that? Have you been a pirate?"
"On occasion." Han shrugged.
"Oh, really?" Luke raised a questioning brow at him in jest, but all Han saw were Luke's pale lashes framing his deep blue eyes, near enough for Han to count them, seducing him without relent.
"When the need arises." the raspy tone broke free without Han's consent, as did the hand that left Luke's shoulder and trailed up to cradle his cheek. Luke's playful gaze disappeared at once, startled by the gesture. He stilled under his palm, and Han only noticed how flustered Luke was when his fingers brushed against the quick pulse on Luke's neck and found a rhythm of chaos matching his own.
"By the stars, kid. I could have made you feel so much..."
Han's mouth caught Luke's before either could speak another word. For a second, reality disappeared to be replaced by touch alone. Luke's lips were soft and pliant against his own, his eyelashes brushed softly against Han's cheek and sent tingling sensations over his skin which felt almost imperceptible after a moan escaped Luke's mouth and Han invited himself in, a flash of heat seizing his groin the moment their tongues met.
Luke's welcome response failed to register in Han's brain and he went on kissing Luke until he was gasping for air. He had a hand on Luke's waist, holding him close, and another on the back of his neck when he pulled away, heart hammering a savage beat against his rib-cage.
He tried to crack a witty joke but nothing coherent came. Han's whole body protested at the abrupt intermission, hungering for more. He couldn't think. Luke's disheveled look made his blood churn. The pale, black suited Jedi, master of restraint was nowhere to be found. Instead, the carefree farmboy of Tatooine with flushed cheeks and tousled hair gazed back at him in puzzlement, though he had an expression on his face Han had never seen before. Something deep and secret enough for Luke to tether at once. The mask of control went back in place to shield him from Han's prying gaze. Han stepped closer, wishing to rip it out, but Luke raised a hand to keep him away.
"Han, no."
Han grabbed Luke's hand and held it close to his chest, pleading. He wanted to tell him it was okay. Anything. He'd even apologize if the notion didn't sound so goddamn ridiculous and the taste of their kiss didn't cloud his judgment beyond reason.
"Luke." he called his name almost in prayer, but Luke was resolute. He sidestepped and moved away from the edge of the balcony, escaping Han's reach altogether. Even when they had been on opposite ends of the galaxy, the distance had never felt so unbearable.
"Please. I need to be by myself."
"Sure. For all the good it has done you these past two years." Han said it between gritted teeth. All the passion that had fueled his wanton urges turned quickly into frustration.
"I don't want to argue with you, Han." Luke replied in a guarded tone. It invited no approach and no questions. Typical Jedi Luke. Unreachable to the point of despair. Han leaned on the balcony's balustrade and took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of the Corellian sea.
"Yeah, I don't wanna argue either. I get enough of that without you here."
"Just let it rest." Luke repeated quietly to himself, but Han heard him all the same.
"Can't put anything to rest that hasn't come alive yet."
Han saw Luke's left hand twitch in an internal battle for control. The display gave Han a measure of sadistic satisfaction.
"Why are you making this so difficult now?" Luke's voice sounded strained, a breach in his perverse endurance.
"'Cause now you're here."
To Han things were simple. As long as he didn't go back inside.
"Where's that scoundrel? Han!"
"Leave him alone, Lando. I don't want you giving him any more reasons to get drunk." Leia's laugh came from the hall rich and bright.
The sky above the balcony hung dark and ominous. The sounds of the sea scattered among the windblown trees.
Han searched Luke's face one last time and received a feeble smile in return. A smile that said it all.
I'm sorry. Forget it.
A smile Han would sooner forget, though its counsel was wise.
When Han made it to the guest room, Luke's room as of late, the door was flung open, work of careless excitement. The bed was already made, a ritual expected of Luke who woke up with the rising sun. However, the example of his Jedi discipline was marred with creases which denounced grabby hands and roaming feet. Yes, definitely the marks of a Solo.
A gentle breeze flew into the room, carrying with it the tangy sea dew and the scents of the pine forest edged between the house and the beach. A silly giggle followed leading Han to the garden outside.
"Ben, you won't feel the Force if you don't sit still." Luke's mellow voice failed any attempt to sound grave.
"Tell me again the stories about Master Yoda, uncle Luke."
"I don't think I need to, you're doing a great job mimicking him."
Ben had both arms clasped around Luke's neck, a leg wrapped around his waist and one foot looking for solid ground somewhere around Luke's hipbone so he could continue the climb up his meditating uncle. A habit that stemmed from too much time in the company of a very tall, very hairy Wookie.
Han smiled.
Something had to be said about Ben's resources. Not everyone had the spunk to impose on the last Jedi Knight the way he did, in spite of his influential predecessors. But not everyone had the privilege to be the sole focus of all said Jedi's tenderest sensibilities either.
"Good you're here, Han. I could do with a rescue."
Han took a second to curse those acute Jedi senses before replying.
"Don't know about that. I'm actually rooting for the wannabe climber. Son, if you reach the top, you're gonna be the first human in the galaxy to crest the only mountain of Tatooine."
"Please ignore him, Ben- ow! Ben, that's my hair you're pulling!"
"All right, all right, playtime's over, hotshot."
Han stepped forward and grabbed Ben under the arms, pulling the four year old away.
"Dad! Let me go!"
"Ben, it's too early for this racket, leave your uncle alone."
"He is gonna teach me about the Force!"
"I can teach you about the Force just fine! Go wake your mother and see for yourself."
"Really?"
"You wanna know the odds?"
"Never tell me the odds!" Ben proclaimed loudly, feet stomping the mossy lawn, and he scurried off to pounce on his sleeping mother like a kitten. Han watched him go, pitying his son but not feeling all that bad about his lie.
"He's impossible like his father." Luke professed behind him.
Han turned around to meet him, too distraught before with Ben's projecting limbs to take a proper look at Luke's face. He could swear Luke was brighter than Corell. His blond hair glistened in the morning sunshine and he wore a white robe that brought out the Tatooine tan no flying would ever scrub off him. Han didn't miss the hard lines on his expression either, but he'd gotten used to those, a constant reminder of the Jedi ways he loathed.
"I'm pretty sure he gets that from your side of the family." Han grunted.
"I'm gonna tell Leia you said that."
"Oh, she's acquainted with the notion."
Luke's smile wavered and disappeared a second into the ensuing silence. They'd stopped having quiet moments between them for years. Han hated it for every reason conceivable. He either started thinking too much and remembering things he shouldn't, or he'd just blank entirely, anticipating Luke's next move. A foolish choice since he always ended up watching Luke go, mouth a thin a line and shoulders tense, as desperate as Han to get away from the irreducible tension between them.
Nevertheless, Han couldn't be more glad that Luke was there. Since he'd started rebuilding the Jedi Order, with the help of Tekka and the Church of the Force, his number of visits had dwindled, deterring Han's every effort to restore their friendship. It frustrated him more than he was prepared to admit, already plagued by the thought of a failed marriage.
Han had to thank Ben for Luke's visits. Not only did Luke extend them on account of his nephew, he seemed to revert back to the open and bright eyed kid Han had met in that shady cantina all those years ago. Love suits him, Leia had said the other day, as they watched Luke play with Ben on the beach. For once Han had agreed with her. Luke loved their son so much it almost pained him. Han often wondered if that was all the love Luke allowed himself to feel nowadays, or if it was the only love he had left to give. It had always seemed such a boundless source in him before- before what? Endor? Bespin? Han's thoughts raced back to Hoth, to a shy smile in the middle of a frozen hangar. A silent goodbye he had not been prepared for.
"What is it?" Luke's question broke his train of thought.
"Sometimes I forget how much time has passed since Mos Eisley." Han admitted.
Luke's lips curled with the outline of a smile, but the twinge of compassion in his expression spited Han unintentionally. He didn't miss the turbulent shadows flickering behind Luke's eyes before he turned them away.
"That's just like you, Han."
Han started. Although Luke had said it in the humblest way possible, Han still felt a knife twist in his gut. He half regretted having voiced his stupid thoughts aloud, but, in retrospect, he wouldn't have gotten a reaction out of Luke any other way.
"And what the hell do you mean by that?" Han drawled, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on the doorway.
Luke had turned his whole body away, leaving his strong back to face Han's gaze. He looked like a helpless cornered animal in the middle of the garden, six feet of solid Corellian brass blocking the exit. The notion made Han sneer, knowing very well Luke had the power to knock him over with a wave of his hand.
"The past is all I can think about."
Han froze. His rib cage had suddenly become too small to contain the throbbing within.
"You don't mean that," he uttered, body immovable. Air failed to reach his lungs."I don't wanna hear it," Han surprised himself with how calm he sounded. His eyes fastened on Luke's back, biding for an answer that would kill the twinge of hope swelling in his chest. He clung to doubt to tame the tempest roaring to come out.
"You can't mean that, not after-"
"No, I don't." Luke's quick rebuttal was more than Han could take. With a few short steps, Han closed the distance between them and shoved Luke back inside the house. Their eyes met and when their gazes lowered to each other's lips, Han knew they were both thinking the same.
"And now you're lying to spare my feelings?"
A shade of sorrow clouded Luke's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Han."
Han would have flung the pathetic excuse out of the window and sunk it to the bottom of the ocean if he could. Luke had to be out of his fucking mind. Han's eyes shifted from Luke's still figure to random points across the room, prowling for answers. The latch he had put on his bygone desires threatened to deafen him with its rattling. That or his heartbeat.
"How long do you think you've kept me waiting?!" he cried out.
"Han, lower your voice, Leia is-"
"I don't give a damn about my voice!"
Too agitated to notice anything but Luke's shaken state in front of him, Han missed Leia's approach which Luke had obviously sensed before she had even stepped a foot outside her bedroom.
She stopped beside Han, eyes blinking, and raised a hand to his forearm still groggy with sleep. Han barely noticed it. Either his body was on fire or her hand too cold. He didn't really care.
"What's going on? Han?"
Han kept his gaze hard on Luke, giving him one last chance to wipe the slate clean and take it all back. Part of Han willed him to do it, to close the lid on that soul-consuming want for good. Yet, another part yearned for Luke to just yank it away and let it all roam free.
When neither of them answered, Leia turned to Luke who remained silent and grim. His whole expression spelled regret, just like that smile four years ago. Han wanted to smack it down, whatever means necessary.
"Luke what's wrong? What has he done now?"
"Oh, that's great!" Han let out a deranged laugh, the sting of accusation so familiar he had to roll his eyes, "Me?! How original! Always blame the angry Corellian!"
"How many times do I have to tell you that yelling about it won't improve your argument?"
"Has it ever crossed your mind that I might have reasons for yelling?!"
"Surprise me, Han."
Her provocation stunned him. Han almost laughed in her face. He'd surprise her all right, if the panic imprinted on Luke's face didn't fill his gut with guilt.
Han let out a deep sigh and raised his hands in defeat.
"You know what, I'm outta here."
"Han!"
"Let him go." Luke told his sister.
"He always leaves when he knows he's lost the fight. Usually it just takes him longer," Leia said, hoping to bait Han back to their conversation, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
"Han, come back here! Where do you think you're going?" she yelled after him.
"A swim!" He yelled back, not straying from the path towards the shed where they kept the landspeeder. He could still hear Luke and Leia chatter in the background while he took the dusty motor out and turned on the engine. Their low voices slowly drove him insane.
"Well, just let him go. It will cool him down," Leia reasoned, "Talk to me later?"
"Yeah, sure." Luke replied toneless.
"I have a council meeting in an hour. Winter will be here in a few minutes to pick me up. I'll drop Ben at school on my way to the embassy. When I come back we can train together."
"If you wish. But let me take care of Ben, he can spend the day with me."
"Luke," Leia's voice softened, "You came here to rest, not work."
"I came here to be with my family," Luke told her, "And Ben is never work."
"That's because you spoil him too much."
"And you spoil me."
"Well, someone has to."
Han felt more than heard the bitterness in Leia's voice.
The sunny morning had passed by the time Han got out of the water, body cooled by the chilling sea though not so much his temper. Windswept surf bit into his bones as the waves grew taller and broke thundering behind him. Han plodded his way back towards the landspeeder left alone in the middle of the sandy expanse. It looked abandoned and rusty from afar, worn beyond use, less than scrap. The whole setting did: a bleak morning in a remote beach on a backwater planet somewhere on the Outer Rim. In no way did it resemble the cozy piece of heaven nestled among cliffs and pine trees by Han and Leia's home on Corellia. The place Ben had run up and down to exhaustion, the place Luke and Leia had spent so many hours training together, the place Han had escaped to so many nights just to watch the starry sky merge with the ocean and imagine himself on the Falcon, flying through space, sand beneath his fingers.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that before." Luke's feet moved silently through the sand, his sullen voice the only thing signaling his approach. Han paid him no mind, preferring to grudge the brown, coarse sand beneath his feet. He finished zipping up his pants and took a deep breath before turning around, unsure whether he wanted to pick up where they'd left off. He expected Luke to offer a nice outlet to his rage but no actual closure as usual.
"You're apologizing for what? The truth?" Han shook off the remaining water from his hair and grunted, "Don't bother."
Luke had his eyes set on him, unwavering, shining that impossible blue even when there were only gray clouds and murky seas to reflect on them.
"What did you mean you were waiting?"
"You know damn well what I meant." Han snarled, dusting the sand off his shirt.
"I really don't. All these years you got everything you wanted and-"
"So did you," Han cut in sharply, crumpling his shirt and throwing it into the speeder with no intention to put it back on. He could feel the embers of his fury rekindling. "Got to be a Jedi like your father, didn't you?"
"Yes, but-"
"But what?"
"You're dodging my question, Han. What could you possibly have been waiting for-?"
"You!" the word left Han's mouth in rage and desperation, in a tone rougher than he had meant it. But it was the truth and damn it if he wasn't going to stand by it now when it had taken him years to finally admit it. All at once, he felt strong and weak. Torn apart by that tiny word that had escaped his lips so easily and shattered his world. He didn't realize he was at Luke's mercy, only that Luke's shock provided him the silence he needed to carry on blabbering like a fool, disclosing the full case of his stupidity.
"Yes, you! It was you all along! I was waiting for you to take me away from all of it!"
"How could I?" Luke asked him in disbelief.
"Yeah, you couldn't," adrenaline clouded Han's judgment and he found no kindness to reply with as his body got bombarded with emotions he couldn't restrain, "You're not the same ballsy kid who begged me to stay on Yavin Four."
His gibe found a crack in Luke's shields .
"I didn't beg you." Luke muttered.
"I went back for you all the same, didn't I?" Han stepped forward and jabbed a finger in Luke's chest "To save your skin!"
"You did," Luke didn't so much as flinch, "On Hoth too."
"And you've repaid me that a hundred times over," Han said exasperated, eager to purge the empathy from Luke's face and get to the passion simmering beneath. Memories of battles fought together flew by, "Yavin, Hoth, Jabba's, Coruscant, it doesn't matter anymore! I don't give a damn about the score."
"What then?"
"You really don't get it, do ya? It just doesn't get through that damn thick skull of yours," out of breath, Han raked a hand through his damp hair, "I'm crazy about you, kid. Always have been. And since I found out, it has been hell all this waiting."
Luke reached out a trembling hand but drew it back at his next thought.
"What about Leia?"
"What about her? I love her, but not in the way you think. Not for a long while now. We've just stuck together because of Ben, and all we had-" Han paused, finding it hard to grasp his own logic "All you had was us. Sick, isn't it?"
Luke's big blue eyes widened in shock, free of confusion, as if he'd had one of his deepest secrets revealed. He recollected in a few seconds and lowered his head to hide his embarrassment.
"Oh, quit it, will ya? We're all guilty in this," Han grumbled, "If it hadn't been for Ben, who knows where I'd be now. In a dump somewhere in Nar Shaddaa, back to smuggling spice to the Outer Rim."
"No, Han. It's my fault. I shouldn't have said anything. You two belong together, always have, I-"
Han's short fuse burst.
"Don't flatter yourself the misunderstood little homewrecker, Luke. This family was well messed up before I ever bothered kissing the starlights out of you that night. Or were you already this self-pitying then? I guess you were."
"Not everyone can be like you and just take whatever they want on a whim."
Luke's demeanor staggered Han as much as the admittance did. It hurt. Truth usually did and Luke dealt it with expertise. The byproduct of endless hours of second-guessing himself, or 'meditating' as the Jedi liked to call it, not to mention the myriad diplomatic interventions to settle peace arrangements and bring more nations into the folds of the Republic. Fortunately Han was well versed in Leia's own jugglery of truth.
"Hell, if only you were! With you everything just has to be so fucking difficult."
"It's not a choice for me." Luke said nonchalantly, voice too low for comfort. Han huffed, nearly fuming.
"Of course it's a damn choice! You're just punishing me for not seeing it sooner. For Leia, for everything!"
"Punishing you?"
Luke's right hand hit Han's chest so quickly, Han heard his own gasp before he felt the impact and stumbled backwards. He tripped over his feet half buried in the sand and fell back against the speeder. When he looked up, Luke was towering over him in fury, the white robe no longer shrouding the tender skin he tried to hide, but revealing tight muscles that strained to contain his anger.
"Do you have any idea what I could do to you, to Leia, to Ben... if I didn't get hold of my feelings? All those times I asked you to leave me be, to let me think, I asked because I needed to be at peace. Only at peace would I be able to know the good from the bad. Yoda taught me that."
"So I'm bad for you, uh?"
"No! I am!" Luke brought up his hands in despair "If I let my feelings control me I might- I could- I don't know what would happen."
"I'm hearing a lot of if's here."
"Han, don't you see? I'd be just like my father." Luke's voice broke and a pitiful grimace surfaced, allowing Han a modest glimpse into the years of self-reproach he knew had sabotaged most of Luke's decisions. "So many times I heard the call, felt the pull to the Dark side. Sometimes it's like they never left."
They. Han's fists clenched just thinking about them. Palpatine, Vader, even Yoda and Kenobi. So eager to use Luke to further their own agendas and delusions, they forgot about the scars they might leave behind. That was Luke, a whole living breathing scar.
"You're afraid." Han observed.
"You'll have to be more specific." Luke replied, his smirk derision itself.
"You're afraid of losing control."
"Yes, I am."
"You're afraid of losing control when it comes to me?"
Luke nodded again, his expression grave.
"I gotta say," a smug smile tugged at the corners of Han's mouth as he pulled himself up, "Hearing you say that makes me feel pretty damn good."
"Han! Have you been listening to a word I said?!" Luke's outburst brought color to his cheeks and a fire to his eyes.
"I have, kid. And I can tell you the gist of it too," Han said, running a hand down his own bare chest, "You want me just as much as I want you and denying it has driven both of us mad."
His hand found Luke's neck and reached up to slide a thumb over Luke's lower lip. That hot, consuming hunger uncoiled in the pit of his stomach, erasing the cold of the sea.
"Tell me I'm right."
He wouldn't have bet a single credit on Luke's consent, but before Han could lower his head, Luke's arms had looped around his neck and soft lips had covered his mouth seeking the warmth within. Han groaned in response, pressing his whole body into Luke's and fighting down a roll of Corellian curses.
"You don't know." Luke's breathless whisper shook Han to the core. The world tilted for a moment and he had to lean back on the speeder not to lose his footing. He sought the collar of Luke's robe and the side of his neck before finally burying his hands in Luke's hair. A ravenous sigh of contentment escaped at a craving avenged at last. Han had lost count to the times he'd fantasized about stroking those blond locks, feel their caress between his legs. A real hardness pressing against his thigh got him grinning.
"So you are happy to see me." Han noted, grinding his hips in return.
"You've been yelling at me without your shirt on for the gods know how long, what did you expect?" Luke's rough answer didn't match the bashful look on his face. The speedy complaint brought back the memory of that impatient kid of long ago and Han's heart did a little somersault, enough to put to rest the remains of his reputation as a crook.
"Not that long."
He cupped Luke's cheek to pull him close but Luke stopped him.
"What is it?"
"Your hands are cold." Luke's fingers curled around Han's wrists and guided Han's calloused hands under his robe. The delicate gesture hypnotized Han and sent a rush of something more than lust cursing through his veins, seizing his whole being. He followed the path of his hands as Luke steered them over his own body, up his torso and down again to his hipbones, Han's fingertips sliding along rippled muscle and heated skin.
"Han?" Luke directed his question to Han's entranced look. But Han had no answer. He pulled Luke back into his arms and kissed him hard, finding no other solution as fulfilling and sweet as Luke's breath mingling with his own. Why had they taken so long to get here when it was this easy? Han wanted to melt under Luke's touch, overwhelmed at the display of devotion and certainty, as if this passionate Luke of his dreams couldn't be real. He'd imagined Luke bare of his walls before, fallen victim to nothing but unadulterated need, yet it had been nothing like this, so heartrending, so complete. That's how it was with Luke. Fantasy always paled in comparison.
A moan vibrated low in Han's throat when Luke's mouth trailed down his chin. Han threw his head back in pleasure, shunning away the mental image of his wriggling toes on the sand, proof of a silly adolescent excitement he didn't recognize as his own. Luke's lips brushed his stubble as he searched for the throbbing pulse in Han's neck and then nipped at it, teeth raking tender skin.
Han shut his eyes cursing, riding the surge of heat that rushed through his body.
"Salty." Luke's playful tone suspended Han's moment of bliss, commanding his whole attention back to him with another kiss.
Han lost it at the taste of sea in Luke's mouth. The fine thread of bewilderment that had kept him together, too stunned at Luke's bold advances to react, crackled. The latch holding him back vanished and all his raw hunger stormed out, eager to devour the vulnerability being offered to him. Strength seeped into his bones and a lonely thought howled through his mind, scouring like desert wind.
Luke.
With a firm grip on Luke's hips, Han switched their positions, trapping Luke against the speeder. He slipped one thigh between Luke's legs, drawing out a loud gasp of surprise he exploited at once, stealing Luke's breath in a sloppy but thorough kiss. Luke squirmed under him, body trembling as Han ran his hands down Luke's flanks, groping his way down with relish.
"Wait- Han..."
The small broken whimpers coming out of Luke's mouth flared the heat pooling in Han's groin and his senses overloaded with Luke's presence; the windswept blond hair mussed by Han's possessive grip, entwined softly between his fingers; the lingering traces of body wash blended with the scents of sweat and pine from Luke's trek down the forest to the beach; his flushed tan skin which tasted alien yet incredibly sweet and addictive. Han couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself be so consumed like this, reason so wiped from mind he was nearly past the point of no return.
"Han, no..." Luke pushed against his chest, panting hard, "Not like this."
Han grunted in denial and sank his teeth into the side of Luke's neck.
"Please, Han..." The rugged accent of want faded from Luke's voice and he brushed away a few strands of damp hair from Han's eyes. The softness of his touch thwarted Han's passionate spur.
He released Luke's neck with a final lap of tongue over his mark and forced his gaze upwards.
"I'm sorry, Han," Luke's flushed complexion gave Han heartache, "I want it too. So much. But not like this."
Logic took its long way around Han's brain, too clogged with fresh sensations to process anything coherent.
"We need to make it right."
"More right than this? Not possible, kid."
Han was still catching his breath when Luke's meaning reached him, along with everything else. Mostly the words husband, Leia and Ben. Going further wouldn't be fair on them, nor was anything that had happened so far, no matter how satisfying.
"I think you need another dip in the ocean." Luke goaded.
Han shot him an offended look, brows raised.
"Me?"
Luke huffed in amusement and glanced down at the aftermath of the friction between them.
"Alright, we both do."
"That can be arranged."
Han tugged at Luke's robe suggestively and gestured toward the rolling sea waves. The clouds overhead had parted on cue, slanting streaks of pure sunlight across the ocean. Han turned towards Luke and burst out in laughter.
"What are you laughing at?"
Han would never get tired of that stupid look on his face. Mouth slightly ajar, pupils blown wide taking everything in. Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and Hero of the Alliance, baffled by the sight of so much water in one place.
"You mind your own business," Han replied gruffly, scrunching up his nose to compose himself, "You still remember how to swim?"
"As much as you remember being an idiot."
"Takes one to know one, buddy."
"And immature."
"That's Ben's fault."
"I forgive you then."
The door to Ben's room closed silently behind Han as the bleep of Leia's keycard came from the front door. Another late night. Outside, the sun had gone down two hours ago and been replaced with an unusual starry sky.
Han sought refuge in the living room, unable to bring himself to greet Leia with the slightest brush of lips. The thought of what he must do filled him with pain and, as the moment approached, he could feel purpose leaving him. The vulgar side of his personality, the one that refused to bury the smuggler and the coward, marred his precious moments with Luke and coaxed him with easy solutions that were no solution at all. He tried to cling to the memory of Luke pressed against him, eyes clear and blue and alive, for the first time in ages, with that pure gleam of hope.
Leia's voice broke the spell.
"Where's Luke?"
"He's gonna spend the night in town." Han replied. His vague wording startled Leia and her purse clattered as she set it down on the table behind the sofa.
"What? Luke? My brother?" she asked bewildered.
Anxiety about the ensuing conversation forestalled any funny quip from Han, though the notion of Luke going out to have fun was enough to extort laughter from a dead man.
"Yeah," Han gulped dryly, "We need to talk."
Tension shot up Leia's spine. She drew up her shoulders and fixed a loose curl behind her ear to mask her surprise, unaccustomed to any kind of preamble to their fights.
"Nice to see you taking the initiative. Have you apologized to Luke yet?"
Han's brow twitched.
"Yeah, sorta," he grumbled "Never mind all that earlier. I..." he didn't know where to begin. He closed his mouth, appalled at the cheap excuses flooding his brain.
His reluctance brought Leia round the sofa to sit next to him.
"Is everything okay?" she asked him, thoughts flying to her biggest concern "Ben, where's Ben?"
"In his room. Ben's fine." Han said. He couldn't help but think Ben's well being was the sole thing he could assuage her about. "Had to tell him our little space slug adventure for the hundredth time before he finally fell asleep."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I mean, I..." Han fumbled with words again, scratching the scar on his chin. He had never felt more inadequate in his life. His dry throat begged for a drink but his conscience held him back. He had to do it right for Leia, for Luke, for himself.
"This is serious," Leia shuffled on the edge of her seat "You're talking about us."
"Yeah, no..." Han frowned at his own indecision, "I mean yes, but there's more."
Leia stood silent, listening.
"It's about Luke-"
"Oh no, not this again," she interrupted him before he could finish. Her patience had been worn thin after a day full of speeches and compromises. The robotic buzz of four protocol droids assigned to translate her evening meetings still throbbed inside her skull. A chagrin worthy of Threepio's worst remonstrations. "Can't you see he is doing better now? Rebuilding the Order has given Luke back true purpose, something to focus on," Leia's gesticulating hands dropped before she continued, "He's not that empty vessel anymore. Besides, we are his family, he has every right to come as he pleases-"
"No, you are. You're his sister." Han's retort came too abrupt, its bite proof of a dire need to reestablish the boundaries between the three of them.
Leia let out a little chuckle, amused by his standoffish reply.
"And you're nothing to him? Han, please. I'm baffled we're even having this conversation. What were you two arguing about earlier?"
Han remained silent, fighting the urge to drown his frustrations in a gallon of Corellian brandy, the organ-damaging kind. He couldn't help but resent how admitting anything to Leia would put the final dent on his barge of self-loathing. Yet, not doing it would be to deny himself Luke's trust, to deny himself any part of Luke forever, and Han had already spent too long doing that.
Maybe that's my penance. I end up with nothing at all.
"I don't get you, Han. You pester me and Madine about how we handle Luke's position in the government. You're always yapping about how we dump every unpleasant mission nobody else wants on him, which by the way is a complete fabrication! Then you say the best thing Luke ever did was hide in his rock, away from all of us! You hate it when he comes, you hate it when he leaves. You tell me everything's fine, then I find you two arguing about the gods-know-what at six in the morning and neither of you has the decency to explain to me what the hell is going on-" she stopped to take a deep breath, "You're just so selfish sometimes, it's unbelievable. Have you ever thought about how I feel? About how Luke must feel?"
"I have thought about nothing else!" Han cried out, "I can't stand it!"
Leia didn't flinch at his outburst, she was too used to those. However, the pained expression in Han's face got her attention and a certain recognition dawned on her.
"Han," she called him softly, treading new ground, "You can tell me. You can tell me now." she rubbed the tight muscles on his shoulder to ease the tension and Han let his head fall into both his hands.
"Han, we can stop pretending now."
"How?"
A sad smile crossed Leia's lips.
"We're so used to it we don't know how to live without it, uh?"
"That's probably the wisest thing you've said in months." Han declared, bringing his head back up. When he met Leia's eyes he knew only the truth would set him free.
"It's Luke. Me and Luke."
"I knew." her acknowledgment stung like the shot from a blaster, yet there was a small sense of relief. Han stared at her without response.
"I've had my suspicions. The way you've always looked after him, even now when he barely needs help from anyone at all. You can't help but fuss over him. But I never gave it much thought because I liked that about you. The soft side you hide behind all that stupid bravado was what made me fall in love with you in the first place."
"And here I thought it were my good looks and scoundrel ways."
"Those too," Leia added with a teasing smile, though it faded fast "But it wasn't enough, was it? That's why you turned to Luke, so he could give what I didn't."
"So you admit it?" Han sneered "I'm impressed."
"Well, you stopped asking." Leia rebuked.
After a mournful moment of silence, Leia stood up and paced along the room before stopping by the window.
"I thought Ben would give us a second chance. For a while it seemed true."
"It was true, Leia." Han replied from his seat, fists clenched.
"The year he was born was the happiest I've ever been, even with all the sleepless nights and hormones racking my body. I thought nothing could tear us apart again. I promised myself I would compromise. Let the committees talk each other out for a change, leave the senate to its own devices. But I was too fearful. Every time I looked at Ben's face I worried I wasn't doing my best to keep him safe, give him the life he deserved. A life as far away from war and strife, so he wouldn't have to know loss like I did." she glanced at the sky through the window and Han could tell she still ached for Alderaan, for her childhood, for her home. An ache that would never stop.
"Ben's home is wherever you and me are." Han said. He followed her to the wide window which overlooked a darkness where forest and sky mingled into formless shadow.
"Don't get sentimental on me now, Han. You're years too late," Leia moved away from the window and brushed off his hand to go settle in the center of the room as Senator Organa was wont to do "It's not that simple and you know it."
"Maybe I don't."
"Then I must give Luke due credit for making a believer out of you. Seems like I never could."
Han throttled the impulse to snap back. He didn't want this fight. Trading insults with Leia because of Luke would be another weight on his pile of regrets he couldn't bear.
"He tends to get under your skin."
"Don't I know it," Leia replied, berating herself. She took another deep breath before pursuing more practical concerns, "What are you gonna do now?" she asked.
"I don't know." Han said. He leaned back against the window, abhorred by his own reflection. "I've hurt you and Luke. It's killing me."
Leia scoffed.
"At least you're honest, I'll give you that."
"But I wanna be here. I don't want to lose you or Ben."
"You won't. Luke wouldn't let you, nor would I," Leia said with a smile, "And I don't want to lose you either. We've meant too much to each other for too long. Even if things don't work between us anymore, I still need you to be a father to Ben."
"Of course I will be a father to Ben," Han kicked at the condescending request "That goes without saying."
"I know."
"I guess I gotta tell Chewie, go see how the old lady's keeping. You can stay."
"No, Han. Corellia is your homeworld. You should stay."
"What do I want it for?"
Memories, a voice inside him answered. Images sprang up, Leia's silhouette on the garden at sunset with her hands resting on her full belly, Ben's hysterical laughter the first time his feet touched sea water, Luke's gentle smile whenever he came to visit.
"Never was any good to me while I was here by myself. You can have it."
"You've already given me plenty," Leia said. Her smooth fingers found his jaw and traced its hard line in a tender motion. "Even if you don't care to admit it."
Han grunted, unable to hide his gratitude.
"Please take care of him," Leia's gaze hardened with the plea. Han found her meaning all too simple "Don't let him be alone."
"I won't. I promise."
Leia smiled, her first real smile in weeks. It was the same smile Han had seen in a different face, years before, under a canopy of stars.
LUKE'S JEDI TEMPLE – NEW REPUBLIC ERA
The planet Luke had chosen to begin the Order anew had none of the bleak charms of the old dust ball he had once called home. For starters, it had trees, which was a big improvement on the barren, almost two dimensional wasteland of sand and rock surrounding his uncle's moisture farm. It had rivers and oceans with curling surfaces that sparkled under a hot midday sun, and a few downsides to non-Jedi folk. According to Intel, the small planet couldn't boast of much human civilization or any sort of official spaceport to dock in, except a wide open enclosure near Luke's dwelling where the Jedi kept his patched X-wing and a weird assortment of land cruisers and small spacecrafts, testament to his passion for flying.
The temple building was modest, erected from the remains of a rebel outpost which had been grazed to the ground by the rebels themselves in an emergency evacuation during the war. To the present day, the whole star system remained abandoned, as did the Imperial factories and refineries that had once been set in nearby colonized planets for mining operations. Han had been surprised. When he finally got over Intel's red tape and managed to wrench Luke's location from Tekka's fawners, a lost star system in the Mid Rim had been the last place he'd think of. Going by Luke's aloofness and persistent adherence to solitude, Han thought Luke might have holed up in the Outer Rim, somewhere like Dagobah, a place Han knew still haunted him. But Luke's final choice was still near enough the Uncharted Regions to uphold all the secrecy required, and very humble. From high up, the temple looked tiny, unable to house twenty people at most, and, though it was new, moss and climbers already gathered up its walls.
Han was too angry to absorb the whole picture though. He was too angry to manage a successful landing under clear skies and on even ground, a humiliating display which Chewie didn't fail to remind him of with a grim howl. Han played deaf and dumb to mitigate the embarrassment and chose to focus on the nature of his outrage: Luke, as always. Unlike Leia who knew exactly which buttons to push to manipulate Han as she pleased, Luke invariably seemed to press them all at once.
Take care of yourself Han. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it?
Han gritted his teeth and jumped out of his seat after the Falcon screeched to a halt. He could very well recite Luke's words back at him now, though the role reversal sent a shot of bile up his throat. Han didn't know if he wanted to punch Luke or kiss him stupid. Maybe he should just leave. Luke probably regretted everything that had happened on Corellia anyway, an idea which, admittedly, had been festering inside Han for weeks. Yet, the moment he stepped outside the Falcon, a familiar feeling took hold of him and he was brought back to the day he had swaggered towards that Mos Eisley cantina with no knowledge of the moment that would change his life forever.
Chewie's hairy chest collided with the back of his head at the bottom of the ramp.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Han grunted, his sharp hearing caught every nuance of Chewie's vexing comment, "No, I was not spacing out! And no, I am not a lovesick buffoon! Just go hug a tree and leave me alone. Hell, I'm getting too old for this."
Chewie seemed impervious to Han's flustered outburst and left him to go check the Falcon's hull plating. Han dismissed him with a wave of his hand and strode off towards the temple under a scorching sun.
A cloak of strange local greenery covered the simple blocks of solid rock that gave longevity to the temple's structure and framed its entrance. It reminded Han of the massive temple at Yavin Four, hidden in a thick jungle teeming with unknown squallers. However, instead of hollering creatures hidden in the surrounding undergrowth, here reigned only silence and fitful gusts of wind that swept up the dusty earth all around the temple.
Han walked in barely suppressing a cough.
"Welcome." a calm voice greeted him. Han's eyes took their time adjusting to the dark hallway he had stepped into. He looked around, taking in the plain setting until he could make out the Twi'lek standing a few feet away from him. A bland brown cloak fell over her traditional tight-fitting attire.
"I'm Khara Lor. Please come on in, General Solo. We've been expecting you."
"I bet you were." Han huffed. He knew perfectly well those Church of the Force stooges must have stumbled over their feet to rat him out to Luke's students the minute he had stormed out of their offices.
"Where is he?" Han cut straight to the point, patience wearing thin.
"Are you looking for Master Luke?" Khara seemed to sense his anger and her sham ignorance put it to the test.
"Yeah, Luke, where the hell is he?"
"He went out with the young ones."
"When is he coming back?"
"Whenever the young ones are ready."
Han sighed and leaned one hand against the wall, too strung out to deal with crazy Jedi precepts.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means we must wait," Khara said matter-a-factually "If you and your Wookiee companion would please follow me, I'll show you the temple. It's your first time here, isn't it?"
Han nodded with a heavy expression.
"Yeah, that's right. And I'm regretting it already."
The sky had taken purple and orange hues following the sun's descent. By then Khara Lor had finished her tour of the temple, offered Han and Chewie a plain tasteless meal and left them to their own devices. They returned to the Falcon complaining about the food like a pair of old geezers who, not knowing how to cook themselves, had a knack for criticizing the efforts of others who refused to live off synthesized food.
The ship had sustained unnecessary damage after Han's clumsy landing so he busied himself with repairs, but his heart wasn't in it. His feelings of frustration and anger festered more and more as he bid his time to meet Luke. For a man of limited imagination, he began elaborating complex schemes to justify Luke's absence, perhaps even some intentional avoidance. Khara's words multiplied in his mind like an infection. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. We must wait. Did she even know how long he had been waiting? The days, the months, the years? Every second now was unbearable and if Han could let go of it all and blast off out of there he damn well would have. But he couldn't. And he hated it. He pulled a dead circuit stuck between two batteries and a spark of electric charge jolted him.
Chewie's angry remarks came at once and he growled that if Han couldn't do the job right he might as well stay put.
"I know what I'm doing!" Han shot back.
Light footsteps in the ship's main corridor put a stop to their quarrel and the figure of Khara Lor appeared in the doorway of the engineering bay.
"Is he back?" the question left Han's mouth before he could think it.
"No, not yet. But it's getting dark outside. I came to invite you over. There may be dust storms during the night and you won't be able to leave your ship."
"Dust storms?" Han interjected "And Luke is out there with kids?"
"They will be fine. Master Luke will take care of them."
He can't even take care of himself! Han's mouth opened to protest, but he couldn't say it. He might have once. Now he knew enough about Luke to know a dust storm wouldn't stop him. Besides, Han had no idea about Luke's life at the temple, nor how he and his students had learned to cope with the planet's weather and wild life.
Han and Chewie followed Khara to the temple and she led them to a couple of empty rooms yet bereft of students to occupy them.
"You can sleep here. I'll call you once Master Luke arrives."
Han fell down on the hard mattress feeling much like the new kid who has to spend the night in the cargo hold. The room followed the general lines of the temple, simple and modest. Bare walls, pourstone floors, a bed and a storage container. Han heard Chewbacca's low grumbling of contentment next door, no doubt rejoicing the opportunity to rest, and decided to do as his friend. He shut his eyes and went to sleep.
A dark silhouette stood by the window of his room when he woke up.
Han's heart swelled three times its actual size, pressing painfully against his chest. Then the pain subsided and an unbelievable wave of calm washed over him, as if the whole universe were cradling him. It wasn't the Force or some shady Jedi trick, just Luke.
Han tried to bring back the flames of his indignation after being left behind on Corellia without so much as a note, but Luke's voice dismissed every coherent thought from his mind.
"Hey."
Luke's dark figure against the moonlight was a spitting image of the black-clad Jedi that had saved Han from Jabba's place and the galaxy from the Emperor's reign of terror. Fevered dreams from Han's encapsulated time in carbonite clouded memories of that time, but Han remembered the stranger that had eluded him for years. The one who had tried to hide his cold right hand and the reasons behind it. The stranger who had been born from Bespin and consumed the bright eyed kid whose love Han had slighted, afraid of what it might do to him. The stranger that was no more after the birth of his son.
"How long have I been asleep?" Han asked, propping up on his elbows.
"A couple of hours."
"When did you comeback?"
"Just now. I didn't mean to wake you up."
Han scoffed.
"Yeah, if it was up to you I might as well have stayed home." the meaning of the word 'home' flew past Han's filters unchecked.
Luke stilled and averted his eyes.
"Why didn't you?"
Oh, so he was in a mood too. Great. Han could do with a row.
"I don't know, take a guess."
His joints cracked as he stretched on the bed. Luke watched him silently from the corner of his eye, unmovable. He turned his eyes away when Han stood up and walked over to him. There was a pause before he spoke.
"That night, why did you do it?"
Han shrugged. He followed Luke's gaze to the black sky outside, illuminated by three small moons. Luke could only be referring to one night in particular, a night which Han had relived in his mind way too many times.
"I told you, because I wanted you back."
"I never left."
"Are you trying to fool me or yourself?" Han's reproach lacked the fire he intended, "Hell Luke, I don't know why I kissed you but I'm glad I did."
"No excuses then?"
Han shot him an insulted look and crossed his arms
"So I'm good with excuses, is that what you're saying? You're starting to sound like your sister."
"Well, your excuses were getting sloppy back then," Luke said. The hazy expression on his face told Han his thoughts still dwelt on the past, "You were dying to leave us. Me, Leia, the Rebellion."
"Yeah, I couldn't wait to leave," Han conceded "It was getting too dangerous for me. I'd already lost everything once, I couldn't lose it again. I had Chewie, the Falcon and more importantly my freedom."
Luke turned towards him slowly, his expression bearing the patience of a teacher.
"We were fighting for freedom, Han. Freedom for everyone."
Han chuckled.
"Still the idealist, Luke. Even after all this time."
Luke opened his mouth to retaliate but Han stopped him.
"I wasn't afraid of the war. I grew up in it. I knew why and how it took from people. Gods, I even served at the Academy in Carida," Han added with an eye-roll, "The fighting part I never had problems with."
"What was it then?" Pretense had fallen from Luke's condescending tone and he looked at Han with a genuine desire to understand him.
"You, making my life miserable." Han said with a little smile. Luke frowned.
"But I spoke the truth. The Alliance needed you. I thought you realized that after Yavin."
"Yeah, Yavin was such an eye opener for me," Han scoffed "Too bad I didn't realize the scope of your penchant for suicide missions, could have spared myself so much grief."
"Han-" Luke reached out a hand but Han pushed it aside, too caught up in pleading his own case.
"You were gonna blow yourself up along with the Death Star and you didn't even care!"
"Someone had to do it. Han, please. We've had this argument so many times now. Do we always have come back to it?"
"Yes, we have. You asked me why I was dying to leave back then and I'm telling ya! If I had stayed I'd be trading my freedom for you, only you seemed to be going out of your way to get killed every other day in one of those inspired rebel missions! I had to leave."
Silence seemed impossible, but Luke's reply was meek.
"I didn't know."
"No, you didn't."
"You could have told me, I-"
"You were a kid with a head so full of dreams they were coming out of your ears." Han said, though by the time they had gotten to Hoth, Luke had grown up a bit, enough to entertain Han's thoughts at night when Luke's image was the last thing on his mind as he spilled into his own hand. At first desperate to get warm, later beset by want, unable to stop.
Han's eyes roamed Luke's figure now. He noticed Luke was wearing the same type of cloak as Khara, except he had coarse brown robes underneath it, reminiscent of Old Kenobi.
"You stopped wearing black after Ben was born."
Han's eyes searched Luke's face for a reaction. Luke's mouth opened slightly to reply, but he settled for a shy smile, knowing it was enough.
"You dote on him too much, you know?"
"I can't help it."
"So you're not afraid of your feelings then? Ben and Leia, they're okay," spite laced Han's voice as he put his logic together "Them you let get close – you always have - even when Leia wanted nothing to do with you," he drew nearer to Luke, trapping him against the wall. "It's me you push away."
"Because you're the one I want to have close more than anyone."
Han's breath caught in his throat. Luke's eyes were on him again, making mush of his knees and brain. He swallowed down hard, ignoring the desire flaring up all over his body, and managed to salvage his outrage with a snicker.
"Yeah, I got that message crystal clear."
"Han, my father tortured you to get to me, don't you remember?"
"I'm still here."
Luke lifted his hands to hold Han's face, his touch soft.
"But I'll bind you to me," he said, tightening his grip "I've already taken so much from you, I can't do it any more. I left Corellia to give you a chance to make things right."
Han grabbed Luke's hands by the wrists and pulled them down, not letting go.
"I made them right, I settled everything so I could be with you."
"I wanted to give you a way out."
"Luke, I don't want a way out, I want you to let me in, damn it!"
When Luke didn't answer, Han released his wrists to walk about the room, hoping to dispel the sense of entrapment. He glanced at the night sky through the window, wishing to run back to the Falcon, but clouds had advanced during the course of their conversation and hid the moons and the stars. He could hear the wind howling amidst the silence. A dust storm was brewing.
"I'm sorry, Han," Luke's voice was so tender Han's heart stopped. He turned around and saw Luke taking off his cloak and placing it on the bed. "I don't know how to do this."
Luke stared at his cloak, quiet as a statue, hands hanging by his sides.
"I tried to forget after Bespin, I-" he stopped after the last word and clenched his fists. Han approached him again, slowly, too stunned to mind his crude wording.
"Forget what?"
"How much I cared."
Han's chest barely touched Luke's back. He covered Luke's right hand with his own.
"I know. It changed you. When I held your hand in that desert storm after you rescued me from Jabba, I knew I'd lost you."
Luke's shoulders sagged and Han inched closer from behind, reigning in the urge to wrap his arms around him.
"I'm glad you and Leia found each other. You gave me peace when nothing else did."
"Luke, stop that," Han protested by his ear ,"Don't you want me here?"
"I shouldn't."
"Says who?"
"Me. I'm not supposed to have any of this." Luke declared. Han noticed the belief with which he said it, as if the notion was fact. He found Luke's resignation to his own solitary existence pitiful, and he couldn't help but despise it as well.
"I don't know what will happen," Luke turned around, head cast down, but he didn't move away, "Don't you have any doubts?"
"You're an idiot if you think I'm afraid, I could never be afraid of you. Not anymore."
Luke's head turned up, his eyes widened and he looked at Han with astonishment.
"You were?"
"Hell yeah, I was. When I met you... I-" Han paused, trying to find the words to describe their first meeting, the feelings a younger Luke had stirred in him, "I'd never met anyone like you," he said. Too much had happened since then for him to recall the past impartially. "On Hoth I guess it started to dawn on me how I'd never wanted someone so much. And you know me-"
"You must be free."
"Well, I was going to say I like my freedom." Han grumbled.
"You can't live without it."
"Wrong," Han corrected him. He grabbed Luke by the shoulders, seeking his undivided attention, "That was before. It's not like that anymore."
Yet, in a way it was. What more could truly represent freedom other than Luke?
"I've told you, haven't I? It's you I can't live without."
"Han, don't be-"
"Crazy? Too damn late for that."
HOSNIAN PRIME – NEW REPUBLIC ERA
Years had gone by since the last time Han had set foot in the capital. It was the first time he visited it as an independent agent and he wasn't sure if its mood agreed with him. Everyone dressed clever and moved about with purpose, faithful to the invisible strings that controlled their fates. Although it was a dazzling cosmopolitan city, tailor made to the values of its government, Han felt completely out of place there. He might have fitted in with the Rebellion - he had made a pretty good rebel after all - but lace and grace just wasn't his thing. His six years of marriage to an ambitious politician - later senator - had cemented the notion with multiple layers. Han felt the inadequacy twice as much as he crossed the polished aisle of the diplomatic hostel where Luke was currently staying at.
A few employees and ambassadors eyed him as he made his way to the lifts, exchanging looks behind his back which marked not only their disapproval of Han's trademark spacer outfit, but his lack of effort to appear anything less than regal. Han wished he'd brought Chewie along so he might have someone with whom to share a dozen snide remarks.
Luke's quarters were silent and tidy, undisturbed. Soft yellow light reflected off the floors of selonian marble and permeated every piece of furniture with a warm glow. Han let out a soft laugh, thinking how all the opulence was lost on its tenant, who, in Han Solo's opinion, proved a much more inebriating sight. He found him sitting by a small comm station, checking holovids from his students back at the temple. Khara Lor's image fizzled out as her message ended.
"So, how are they coping without their beloved master?" Han asked, settling down on a blue velvet divan.
"Better than me, that's for sure," Luke whined. He took out the holodisc and stored it away.
"Where did Ben go?"
Han glanced around in search of his nine year old son who now accompanied Luke everywhere as his apprentice. Ben's sensitivity to the Force had begun to show more and more as he grew up and, after a dozen temper tantrums at home which Leia had been unable to keep in check, she'd decided Ben was too volatile for her to train on her own.
"Leia came by earlier and took him to the Senate. Ben wanted to see the Chamber."
Han whistled his disapproval.
"'Watch him come back begging for a repulsorpod of his own," he muttered, "Don't even need the Force to tell me that."
"Oh? So the Force does tell you things?"
Luke had gotten very close very quickly and a playfulness coated his voice which his mischievous smile didn't bother to hide away. Han forgot his words just looking at him. Luke dove in for a kiss and Han savored the chaste touch of lips before pulling Luke down and setting him on his lap.
"Nice to see you too." Luke giggled.
"Did you miss me?"
"Not a bit."
"C'mere," Han groaned, tugging at the collar of Luke's robe. He demanded a flurry of kisses as compensation for the joke, a reparation Luke which was only too glad to offer. They broke apart gasping for air.
"How long 'till we leave?" Han asked, mind running single-track, "Are you done with the Church folks? Don't tell me Leia has snared you in again."
"No, I'm done," Luke replied, shifting over to sit next to Han "Ben's the one you have to worry about."
"I already worry too much about that boy." Han mumbled sullenly, stretching his legs.
"Leia wants to see you too. She missed you at the briefing."
"That's 'cause I got outta there as fast as I could. I don't want Rieekan or Madine to know I'm here. They always try to recruit me to one of their messy secret missions. Mercos caught me passing by the mess hall and that was enough. No matter how many times I tell those guys to drop the 'General' they just keep doing it like they're waiting for me to come back."
"And you just casually walked by the mess hall?"
"Don't you put words in my mouth, you know damn well I only came here 'cause you said I could take you and Ben home. I could have done that briefing from my bunk in the Falcon!"
"Yes, yes, I know."
Han's latest job accounted for his short stop at the Hosnian Sector's Headquarters. Since he had resigned his military commission five years ago, he'd reeled back to past familiar activities – those that bordered on space piracy in general – yet, more often than not, Han's endeavors intersected with the Alliance's own interests. Such had been the case with his last job, which had consisted in the extraction of two scouts from a compromised trade outpost in the Mid-Rim. The place had reminded him a lot of Nar Shaddaa; the cramped hangars, dirty alleys and seedy joints, even the crowd at the-
"The desert is coming to claim you."
"Han?"
The words flew from his mouth like an old song. The thought of that crummy smuggler's moon had triggered a strange remembrance. Han's brows furrowed as he tried to clear the dusty image in his mind and provide Luke with an answer.
"It's something I heard once, don't remember who told me either. I just know it was in some shady spaceport joint before getting tangled with Jabba. There was this Anzat guy who people said could read your mind."
"I've read that the Anzat as a species have a special connection to the Force," Luke said "They can sense it and tap into it."
"Whatever, I couTAKODANA – 34 YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE OF YAVIN
"I didn't know there was this much green in the whole galaxy."
Han should have seen it coming. He really should.
The simple yet charming smile, the quick reflexes, the sullied tan of endless days spent laboring under scorching heat, plus the rags she wore for clothes, stained with dirt from wherever barren wastes she hailed from, and the sand. Oh, the sand. The sand that stuck to her sweaty temples, the sand she trailed after her everywhere and went to join the remnants of that Tatooine dust ingrained in every nook and cranny of the Falcon, in the folds of the co-pilot seat Rey sat on.
Han couldn't bear it. Over the years, remembrance and loss had become one and the same for him. And sometimes, sometimes remembrance was a metaphorical punch in the face and a scruffy-looking girl overwhelmed with the sight of green.
The desert is coming to claim you.
Through the boundless stretch of time Han heard those words echo again. Every time he thought he had finally escaped them, they came back to haunt him and flaunt the truth in his face. He flexed his fingers in response, fighting the urge to turn back the ship and run.
"Initiating landing maneuvers!" Rey's excited directives called him back to reality.
"Yeah, right." Han groaned. He switched on the repulsorlift engine and eased the tension on the sublight drive, eyes trained on the sight before him.
Maybe visiting Maz's wouldn't be so bad. He could always do with a drink and a game of sabacc to clear his mind and get rid of the bad feeling in his gut.
NAR SHADDAA – MID YEARS OF THE GALACTIC EMPIRE
After three hours stuck in the Falcon's circuitry bay replacing power couplings and rerouting circuits, Han Solo and Chewbacca decided to call it quits and celebrate another job over and done with. The two of them had spiraled into a frenzy of repairs after the results of the post-flight diagnostics estimated the damage cost of their little trip to eat up more than half their pay. A thrilling conclusion to another meager smuggling venture.
"Put a cap on it, will ya?"
From the moment they'd landed, Chewie had gone on and on about Han's reckless flying and how they should stop taking jobs from Nar Shaddaa altogether. Han might have agreed with him if he hadn't been born with a staggering and crippling amount of Corellian pride.
He tried to focus on the small number of credits they did have to spend on themselves and doubled his step towards the nearest joint.
Chewie groaned exasperatedly behind him.
"Just sit down and have a drink, pal," Han muttered, sizing up two mean-looking Bothans at the entrance, "With this kind of folks around we can't go anywhere without packing some heat."
Han made a show of the blaster at his hip and the two Bothans snorted amused only to square up their shoulders and step back as Chewie's tall figure loomed over them.
"C'mon let's go."
While Chewie trudged towards the counter to order their drinks, Han drifted through the shifty crowd of spacers to find a quiet spot at the back, just how he liked it. Wall behind him, a nice view of the front door and no surprises. It made it easy to spot a mark for less honorable purposes, assuming there were any. A red head caught Han's eye soon enough, dark suit tight and fit, revealing sinewy limbs. A drink didn't seem to be what she had in mind though. Han noticed how subtly she blended in, picking up an unfinished glass from the counter and whispering a word of encouragement to the band. She started walking his way, their eyes met and her lips curled up in a smile. Nice teeth. Han felt his pulse pick up. If only Chewie would hurry up with that drink...
Han tugged at the collar of his shirt, growing rattled by both thirst and heat. The sultry air of the bar, filled with the stench of sweaty, drunk patrons, most of them blessed with a touch of the criminal, seemed to clog his lungs. His vision swam a bit and he wondered, not for the first time, if those stories about the use of hallucinogenic incenses in seedy joints like this were true. Either way, he felt like crap and the only thing sure to fix that was either a strong drink or a good lay.
The later turned out a bad bet. Han's high hopes for a pleasant rough and tumble went dead in the water two steps away from his booth. The red head had sat down in the company of a cloaked figure. The play of light and shadow hid his face from view but the Anzati details were impossible to miss. Han's back stiffened and he let his hand hover near his blaster, suddenly finding other reasons to wish Chewie's speedy return. He wasn't a big fan of the creepy snot-vampire sort.
To maintain a semblance of nonchalance, Han drew his gaze away from the suspicious pair, keeping an ear out for their murmured conversation. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck and he combed his fingers through his hair to shake off the queasy feeling building up in his stomach. Chewie's appearance made him sigh with relief.
"What took you so long, fuzzball?" Han grumbled, reaching a desperate hand towards the drinks.
Chewbacca howled a complaint and began spinning a tale about two rude Sullustan pilots which lulled Han back to total calm and control. He almost forgot about the red haired woman and the Anzat, who remained deep in conversation, with the Anzat taking her hand and drawing her near. Han couldn't comprehend how she'd favored a fella like that. He didn't consider himself the biggest catch in the galaxy, probably not the biggest catch in Nar Shaddaa, maybe not even the biggest catch in that particular joint, but between the two of them, c'mon, how blind did she have to be?
Clearly one drink wasn't enough to dispel the disappointment.
"I'm gonna get more of these." Han told Chewie before getting up. He strode towards the counter, eager to indulge his woes with more cheap brandy, and got temporarily acquainted with the 'rude Sullustans' of Chewie's ramblings who dispersed after exchanging a few choice words with Han's blaster.
"You really like to wave that thing around, don't you?" a seductive voice played by his ear.
Han turned around and met the red head's dark eyes boring into his. Her elbow leaned against the counter, hips jutting out. She painted a picture all right. Red, mysterious and dangerous. A combination that sent Han's blood running.
"Sometimes you just gotta." he told her.
"I've been watching you, pirate," she lowered her voice to urge him closer "Is that all you just- gotta?"
Oh, she knew how to play the game. A jolt of desire shook Han's entire frame and the imminent danger lit the match.
"Less pirate, more of a smuggler. I can show you the difference, except-" he nodded in the Anzat's direction, alone and somber at his table, "I might have to wave my thing around again." Han added patting his blaster.
"Oh him?" the woman let out a soft giggle, "He's no date of mine. Or anyone's. I've come to him for his services," she said, a glint of admiration in her eyes. "They call him The Seeker. He's sensitive to some kind of otherworldly powers and can see into your future."
"And you believe all that?" Han chuckled, "You're more foolish than you look."
The woman sent him a surreptitious glance but smiled all the same.
"I'll take that has a compliment."
"You do that."
The barman returned with Han's drinks and he downed his glass in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"So, seeing as he is no date of yours, can we get on with ours?" Han asked her directly, hoping to put an end to the mumbo jumbo talk that was positive to sour his mood.
"You know, he told me something about you," she continued undisturbed, "Said he didn't even need to look at your palm," her wicked black eyes, which a minute ago had been full of lust, shone with a clarity of belief Han failed to grasp, "He said visions like that are always certain. Inescapable. It's fascinating, isn't it?"
"Oh, yeah?" Han fought hard not to succumb to his off-putting sarcasm but, as usual, failed spectacularly, "And what did the magic brain-sucker say about me? That I was gonna score big tonight? Cause that's about as much as I'm willing to believe, sister."
The words fell from of his mouth with distaste and the woman's sleazy grin put him off almost as much as her reply.
"He said the desert is coming to claim you."
Han never thought leaving Nar Shaddaa for good, and for good meaning for an unforeseeable amount of time, could feel so liberating. The prospect of business on the Corporate Sector didn't fill his mind with dreams of gold and riches, but at this point anything would be better than that rotten moon filled with scum of the lowest kind. He hated how it rubbed off on him and forced him and Chewie to walk around with an eye over their shoulders every two seconds. They needed to branch out and Han needed to fly, to see the expanse of dark space and glittering stars swallow him and the Falcon whole.
That's the only thing he'd allow to claim him. Freedom. The stars.
Not the fucking desert.
What a joke.
ALLIANCE FLEET – THREE MONTHS AFTER THE BATTLE OF ENDOR
The lift's durasteel doors opened to give Han a view of the enclosed shuttle bay where a pair of old battered X-wings docked with more grace than their sight warranted. If Han didn't know who sat on the cockpit, he might have taken the display for some state of the art holo. But he'd know that piloting anywhere, as he would the ruffled mop of blond hair that emerged a minute later.
"Commander Skywalker, glad to have you back!" the deck officer saluted from afar.
Luke waved in response and climbed down from his fighter. Artoo's beeps accompanied his every step. From the fighter next to his jumped out the tall slim figure of a female pilot who, by the pins in her uniform, was a ranked officer as well. Han had a dim recollection of her from many Rebel incursions over the years, though the military types all blended together in his mind. He took it as an achievement every time he managed to put a name to a face right.
She walked towards Luke and mouthed a few words to him which granted her a warm smile in return. A mission well done by the looks of it. They shook hands and went their separate ways; Luke back to appraising the state of his fighter and astromech droid, and the officer towards the lifts. Her path led her straight to Han.
"General Solo." she greeted him with one of those tiresome military salutes Han would never get accustomed to.
"Lieutenant." he mumbled with feeble decorum. At close range he did recognize her. Shara Bey, Leia's assigned pilot on her mission to Naboo two months ago.
"In case we don't see each other again, it's been a pleasure to serve with you, sir."
Han sent her a quizzical look.
"You're retiring, uh?"
"Yes. I've been told looking towards the future is worthwhile, so I'm finally taking the advice." she said, stealing a glimpse over her shoulder at the black-clad Jedi.
Han tried hard not to laugh. If only Luke took his own little snippets of wisdom to heart.
"That will be the day." Han scoffed.
"And what day is that, sir?"
"Nothing. You go and get out while you can, Lieutenant."
"I will, sir. Please send my regards to her Highness."
Bey sent Han a curious look before disappearing into the lift, leaving Han wondering what kind of stories Leia might have told her about him behind his back. Nothing good to be sure.
Han crossed the flight deck in long strides, cutting a line towards the X-wings instead of the maintenance bay where the Falcon awaited him, distressed Wookie and all. They had two days to finish repairs on the old crate before rallying with an Intell unit on the Anoat System and make contact with the resistance fighters. A bunch of smugglers, gangsters and bounty hunters gone loyal. Impossible to miss the irony.
"Hey, kid." Han's cursory greeting snapped Luke out of his methodical examination of the X-wing's generators. He ducked under the fighter's hull and picked his pace to take Han's hand and shoulders. Their hugs always felt strangely like coming home.
Han patted him on the back and gave Luke's dark cloak a grim once over.
"How goes the quest for Jedi relics?"
"As good as can be expected." Luke curtailed with a sigh. Han's jaw clenched at his reserve. Although he wasn't a big fan of anything related to the Force, he would have appreciated something more elaborated, some sort of thread to pick up on. Luke's question gave him no time to improvise either.
"Where are you going next?"
"Somewhere on Anoat." Han shrugged his shoulders. Luke's brows furrowed.
"But the Iron blockade-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know about the Empire's blockade. No need to ruffle your feathers, kid. But the resident no-gooders and smugglers have established some kind of resistance there and have been trying to contact us."
"So Madine is sending you?"
"Well, you can imagine how hard I rolled my eyes when he dropped it on my lap, right?" the remark was supposed to make Luke laugh, but it didn't wring out a chuckle. Luke's deep blue eyes locked on Han, bashing him with silent grievances.
Han crossed his arms in defiance.
"Listen, don't put me through this again, Luke. Leia already gave me enough flak," he grumbled, "And she's one to talk- You both are! I don't even know where you fly off to half the time. So spare me the speech." he hadn't intended to sound so harsh, but a rush of indignation revived at Leia's name.
He's my brother.
Of all the revelations since Endor, the sibling's bond was the one Han still couldn't fathom. It popped in the back of his mind when he least expected it, assaulting his senses. A physical ache. The relief he had wallowed in after the disclosure had stopped making sense and given way to a restless uncertainty Han locked away tight and far from conscious thought.
"She doesn't want to see me." Luke said. His somber tone brought Han back from his inner turmoil and he homed in on Luke's melancholic expression. The bags under his eyes were proof he still endured the distance instilled by his sister.
"That's not true. She just needs time to sort it all out." Han replied tentatively. Solace wasn't Han's forte, yet he gave Luke's shoulder a light squeeze.
"I know." Luke nudged his forearm in thanks before drawing back. "To be honest with you, Han, I thought- I worried it would take you some time as well."
"What are you talking about?"
"To come to terms with it all." Luke's eyes darted over to Artoo whose bleeping had escalated after being pulled out of his socket, "Vader being my father. And Leia's. You know, everything."
"I guess it's something easier to take when it's not my burden to bear." Han put bluntly.
Luke nodded, chest full with a withheld breath.
"I would understand if you wanted to keep your distance, that's all."
A jolt of tension racked up Han's spine, bridling a bout of unexplained anger. The sight of Luke's head cast down, blond fringe shading his expression, infuriated him beyond belief. Han recognized the habit. A self-deprecating streak nobody had any right to ask of Luke, but which Luke grovelled in ever since Endor. Always shouldering the woes of the galaxy. Ashamed of his own. A load of Jedi nonsense.
Han's fingers found Luke's chin and tilted it up, bringing Luke's cloudy gaze to his.
"I'm fine where I am, kid. Make sure you remember that."
CORELLIA – NEW REPUBLIC ERA
A flurry of short muffled steps down the hall woke Han from his fitful sleep. He knew the culprit right away, one sneaky Ben Solo who couldn't keep his little paws off his uncle every time Luke came around to visit. Han couldn't blame him, Luke didn't shower him with a tenth of the love and affection he did his son and yet he could relate. They all could.
Leia, who struggled to sleep on a daily basis due to her busy schedule, never slept as peacefully as she did when he came. Her fights with Han, which lately teetered on the edge of a decisive break, subsided considerably. She trimmed her arsenal of arguments and even looked at Han with a kinder eye, open to his vulnerabilities and plights, which he, in turn, guarded to himself instead of exhibiting shamelessly as he usually did, proclaiming he didn't give a damn about the New Republic or how it was all shackles and manacles to him.
A desperate need, not quite to please Luke, but to hide their failures from him, took hold of them and in that unnatural way they hungered for his visits, ever so short, so his presence might glue their crumbling marriage together.
Han's disillusionment with his position in the military was no novelty. It hadn't been for six years. He considered it almost a pet resentment, something to nurture his drinking and bear the brunt of all his bad decisions. He had lost track of them by now and so must have everyone who thought the war was over after the Battle of Endor. What a hopeless dreamer he had been then. Hands full of everything he could ever want. Leia, Luke, Chewie, the Falcon, victory over the Empire. The whole universe back on track. Stupid. How could he, Han Solo, skeptic Corellian smuggler extraordinaire, have believed for a second that once the war was over, life would resume and stop giving him grief.
After Endor he was quickly reminded how peace was a mere concept. How the Rebellion survived and lived on stronger than ever under a different name. How Palpatine and Vader's deaths felt too small and inconsequential in the great scheme of things where the Empire's tendrils reached far and wide into dozens of star systems and continued to hold many planets and trade routes in their clutches. It took more battles every day to liberate those still oppressed, more deaths, more diplomatic missions, more politics and more bureaucracy, all of which seemed to smother Han little by little every day. A slow torture.
And he'd married into it.
He had had no notion at first. Love, rapture and hope had colored everything differently back then. He'd walked around blind to so many things, if he thought too long about them now he might throw up. Like Luke's subtle detachment to everything and everyone, how he'd burned his older self along with his father and allowed only the Jedi to come out intact. And Leia, her moment finally arrived, hopping into the political den and taking it for an arena, strength renewed and ready to rebuild from the ashes the lofty ideals she'd been fighting for all those years. What Han had considered the end had only been the real beginning for her.
Soon they began to drift apart. The bond they had forged during the Rebellion started to waver. Passion did little to assuage their contrasting views on every matter, from Han's risky assignments to Outer Rim worlds, to Leia's long absences on diplomatic missions to restore the senate, and of course, their views on Luke's role in their lives stood on complete opposite ends. Leia had shunned her brother away at first, wanting nothing to do with the Force or their father's legacy. She had wrestled against the worst in her nature to be at peace with the truth and, once she did, the twins became inseparable. They shared moments of mediation about the Force and Luke taught Leia patiently, welcoming every question and doubt alike as he did his own. He also indulged every diplomatic request she brought him and Han didn't know which part of their co-dependent relationship he abhorred more. He never thought he'd know jealousy towards them, the two people in the universe he cared the most about besides Chewie, but the feeling proved inevitable and intolerable. He hated being excluded and, though he was consumed with the same amount of anger towards both of them, he couldn't help but blame Luke. He wanted him gone.
Or maybe just shout at him. She's playing you for a fool, kid! They all are! You're acting like their puppet! What happened to you? But what would it even do besides echo in the hollow shell that had become his old friend? Yeah, friend. Were they even friends anymore? They had kept the word as a formality but Han knew nothing of the true meaning remained. He anguished over it. And he was jealous and bitter, bitter as only Han knew how. Looking at Luke from afar and beckoning those blue eyes to him was the same as sporting a bleeding sore in his gut. Yet having Luke's eyes on him was just as bad, if not worse. To gaze back at him and wanting to plunge in those blue depths to find nothing. A desert.
Han's conflicting emotions did not bode well on his already shaky relationship with Leia. But then a miracle happened. Leia got pregnant and Ben was born. It was like victory on Endor all over again, like the month long celebration after regaining Coruscant. Everyone banded together to congratulate the merry couple. Antilles brought the whole of Rogue Squadron with him, Lando took a week off his new mining business to be with the family and Chewie even flew the Falcon over to Endor so a few Ewok friends could come see the child. The happiness was contagious. It overflowed from the baby and engulfed everyone's spirits with it. Luke's eyes filled with tears the moment he saw him, and when Leia let him take Ben in his arms, Han could swear he saw the Force at work. Something beyond raw matter that bonded life together. He would never forget the sight.
Leia glowed, on the verge of tears herself. She was probably as speechless as Han witnessing the scene, the hollow Jedi shell filling to the brim, the return of Luke Skywalker, young hero wild with hope. That night Han might have gone back in time to Yavin Four, to the moment Luke's open arms received him, bursting with joy, elation coating his whole being. The only difference was, back then, Luke's younger self was too innocent not to jump in excitement and provide artless caresses. Now the closeness with the grown man was too intimate, too threatening. Han might have melted from their hug alone if the dazzling smile on Luke's face didn't force him to keep standing.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd held Luke so wholly and been held back the same way. The memory of Endor resurfaced, foggy and incomplete in contrast.
Luke released a breath over his shoulder, sated and relieved, and Han's skin scalded where it had grazed his neck. When Luke withdrew from his hold, Han had trouble letting go. One of his hands stayed on Luke's shoulder to anchor him to reality and hinder any chance of Luke slipping away.
"Leia's so happy, and the baby too." Luke said in amazement, starts danced in his eyes. Corellia's night sky yielded a cloudless canopy above the balcony and the sound of distant breaking waves lulled the coast to sleep.
"And me," Han said with a lopsided grin "And you."
Luke's smiled widened.
"I didn't think I could ever feel this much again." Luke confessed. He looked past Han, not really meeting his eye but throbbing with emotion, his mind far away. Han could feel the gentle tremor under his palm where it touched Luke's shoulder, and the sensation brought forth a surge of energy inside him, a yearning to have Luke close again, pressed against him, body warm over his own.
"Thank you." Luke said with a tender gaze set on him. The abrupt admission of gratitude made Han frown.
"Whatever for, kid?"
"For the baby. He is as much yours as he is Leia's," a glint of mischief crossed Luke's eyes, one Han hadn't seen in a long time, "Or am I gonna have to check that? Have you been a pirate?"
"On occasion." Han shrugged.
"Oh, really?" Luke raised a questioning brow at him in jest, but all Han saw were Luke's pale lashes framing his deep blue eyes, near enough for Han to count them, seducing him without relent.
"When the need arises." the raspy tone broke free without Han's consent, as did the hand that left Luke's shoulder and trailed up to cradle his cheek. Luke's playful gaze disappeared at once, startled by the gesture. He stilled under his palm, and Han only noticed how flustered Luke was when his fingers brushed against the quick pulse on Luke's neck and found a rhythm of chaos matching his own.
"By the stars, kid. I could have made you feel so much..."
Han's mouth caught Luke's before either could speak another word. For a second, reality disappeared to be replaced by touch alone. Luke's lips were soft and pliant against his own, his eyelashes brushed softly against Han's cheek and sent tingling sensations over his skin which felt almost imperceptible after a moan escaped Luke's mouth and Han invited himself in, a flash of heat seizing his groin the moment their tongues met.
Luke's welcome response failed to register in Han's brain and he went on kissing Luke until he was gasping for air. He had a hand on Luke's waist, holding him close, and another on the back of his neck when he pulled away, heart hammering a savage beat against his rib-cage.
He tried to crack a witty joke but nothing coherent came. Han's whole body protested at the abrupt intermission, hungering for more. He couldn't think. Luke's disheveled look made his blood churn. The pale, black suited Jedi, master of restraint was nowhere to be found. Instead, the carefree farmboy of Tatooine with flushed cheeks and tousled hair gazed back at him in puzzlement, though he had an expression on his face Han had never seen before. Something deep and secret enough for Luke to tether at once. The mask of control went back in place to shield him from Han's prying gaze. Han stepped closer, wishing to rip it out, but Luke raised a hand to keep him away.
"Han, no."
Han grabbed Luke's hand and held it close to his chest, pleading. He wanted to tell him it was okay. Anything. He'd even apologize if the notion didn't sound so goddamn ridiculous and the taste of their kiss didn't cloud his judgment beyond reason.
"Luke." he called his name almost in prayer, but Luke was resolute. He sidestepped and moved away from the edge of the balcony, escaping Han's reach altogether. Even when they had been on opposite ends of the galaxy, the distance had never felt so unbearable.
"Please. I need to be by myself."
"Sure. For all the good it has done you these past two years." Han said it between gritted teeth. All the passion that had fueled his wanton urges turned quickly into frustration.
"I don't want to argue with you, Han." Luke replied in a guarded tone. It invited no approach and no questions. Typical Jedi Luke. Unreachable to the point of despair. Han leaned on the balcony's balustrade and took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of the Corellian sea.
"Yeah, I don't wanna argue either. I get enough of that without you here."
"Just let it rest." Luke repeated quietly to himself, but Han heard him all the same.
"Can't put anything to rest that hasn't come alive yet."
Han saw Luke's left hand twitch in an internal battle for control. The display gave Han a measure of sadistic satisfaction.
"Why are you making this so difficult now?" Luke's voice sounded strained, a breach in his perverse endurance.
"'Cause now you're here."
To Han things were simple. As long as he didn't go back inside.
"Where's that scoundrel? Han!"
"Leave him alone, Lando. I don't want you giving him any more reasons to get drunk." Leia's laugh came from the hall rich and bright.
The sky above the balcony hung dark and ominous. The sounds of the sea scattered among the windblown trees.
Han searched Luke's face one last time and received a feeble smile in return. A smile that said it all.
I'm sorry. Forget it.
A smile Han would sooner forget, though its counsel was wise.
When Han made it to the guest room, Luke's room as of late, the door was flung open, work of careless excitement. The bed was already made, a ritual expected of Luke who woke up with the rising sun. However, the example of his Jedi discipline was marred with creases which denounced grabby hands and roaming feet. Yes, definitely the marks of a Solo.
A gentle breeze flew into the room, carrying with it the tangy sea dew and the scents of the pine forest edged between the house and the beach. A silly giggle followed leading Han to the garden outside.
"Ben, you won't feel the Force if you don't sit still." Luke's mellow voice failed any attempt to sound grave.
"Tell me again the stories about Master Yoda, uncle Luke."
"I don't think I need to, you're doing a great job mimicking him."
Ben had both arms clasped around Luke's neck, a leg wrapped around his waist and one foot looking for solid ground somewhere around Luke's hipbone so he could continue the climb up his meditating uncle. A habit that stemmed from too much time in the company of a very tall, very hairy Wookie.
Han smiled.
Something had to be said about Ben's resources. Not everyone had the spunk to impose on the last Jedi Knight the way he did, in spite of his influential predecessors. But not everyone had the privilege to be the sole focus of all said Jedi's tenderest sensibilities either.
"Good you're here, Han. I could do with a rescue."
Han took a second to curse those acute Jedi senses before replying.
"Don't know about that. I'm actually rooting for the wannabe climber. Son, if you reach the top, you're gonna be the first human in the galaxy to crest the only mountain of Tatooine."
"Please ignore him, Ben- ow! Ben, that's my hair you're pulling!"
"All right, all right, playtime's over, hotshot."
Han stepped forward and grabbed Ben under the arms, pulling the four year old away.
"Dad! Let me go!"
"Ben, it's too early for this racket, leave your uncle alone."
"He is gonna teach me about the Force!"
"I can teach you about the Force just fine! Go wake your mother and see for yourself."
"Really?"
"You wanna know the odds?"
"Never tell me the odds!" Ben proclaimed loudly, feet stomping the mossy lawn, and he scurried off to pounce on his sleeping mother like a kitten. Han watched him go, pitying his son but not feeling all that bad about his lie.
"He's impossible like his father." Luke professed behind him.
Han turned around to meet him, too distraught before with Ben's projecting limbs to take a proper look at Luke's face. He could swear Luke was brighter than Corell. His blond hair glistened in the morning sunshine and he wore a white robe that brought out the Tatooine tan no flying would ever scrub off him. Han didn't miss the hard lines on his expression either, but he'd gotten used to those, a constant reminder of the Jedi ways he loathed.
"I'm pretty sure he gets that from your side of the family." Han grunted.
"I'm gonna tell Leia you said that."
"Oh, she's acquainted with the notion."
Luke's smile wavered and disappeared a second into the ensuing silence. They'd stopped having quiet moments between them for years. Han hated it for every reason conceivable. He either started thinking too much and remembering things he shouldn't, or he'd just blank entirely, anticipating Luke's next move. A foolish choice since he always ended up watching Luke go, mouth a thin a line and shoulders tense, as desperate as Han to get away from the irreducible tension between them.
Nevertheless, Han couldn't be more glad that Luke was there. Since he'd started rebuilding the Jedi Order, with the help of Tekka and the Church of the Force, his number of visits had dwindled, deterring Han's every effort to restore their friendship. It frustrated him more than he was prepared to admit, already plagued by the thought of a failed marriage.
Han had to thank Ben for Luke's visits. Not only did Luke extend them on account of his nephew, he seemed to revert back to the open and bright eyed kid Han had met in that shady cantina all those years ago. Love suits him, Leia had said the other day, as they watched Luke play with Ben on the beach. For once Han had agreed with her. Luke loved their son so much it almost pained him. Han often wondered if that was all the love Luke allowed himself to feel nowadays, or if it was the only love he had left to give. It had always seemed such a boundless source in him before- before what? Endor? Bespin? Han's thoughts raced back to Hoth, to a shy smile in the middle of a frozen hangar. A silent goodbye he had not been prepared for.
"What is it?" Luke's question broke his train of thought.
"Sometimes I forget how much time has passed since Mos Eisley." Han admitted.
Luke's lips curled with the outline of a smile, but the twinge of compassion in his expression spited Han unintentionally. He didn't miss the turbulent shadows flickering behind Luke's eyes before he turned them away.
"That's just like you, Han."
Han started. Although Luke had said it in the humblest way possible, Han still felt a knife twist in his gut. He half regretted having voiced his stupid thoughts aloud, but, in retrospect, he wouldn't have gotten a reaction out of Luke any other way.
"And what the hell do you mean by that?" Han drawled, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on the doorway.
Luke had turned his whole body away, leaving his strong back to face Han's gaze. He looked like a helpless cornered animal in the middle of the garden, six feet of solid Corellian brass blocking the exit. The notion made Han sneer, knowing very well Luke had the power to knock him over with a wave of his hand.
"The past is all I can think about."
Han froze. His rib cage had suddenly become too small to contain the throbbing within.
"You don't mean that," he uttered, body immovable. Air failed to reach his lungs."I don't wanna hear it," Han surprised himself with how calm he sounded. His eyes fastened on Luke's back, biding for an answer that would kill the twinge of hope swelling in his chest. He clung to doubt to tame the tempest roaring to come out.
"You can't mean that, not after-"
"No, I don't." Luke's quick rebuttal was more than Han could take. With a few short steps, Han closed the distance between them and shoved Luke back inside the house. Their eyes met and when their gazes lowered to each other's lips, Han knew they were both thinking the same.
"And now you're lying to spare my feelings?"
A shade of sorrow clouded Luke's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Han."
Han would have flung the pathetic excuse out of the window and sunk it to the bottom of the ocean if he could. Luke had to be out of his fucking mind. Han's eyes shifted from Luke's still figure to random points across the room, prowling for answers. The latch he had put on his bygone desires threatened to deafen him with its rattling. That or his heartbeat.
"How long do you think you've kept me waiting?!" he cried out.
"Han, lower your voice, Leia is-"
"I don't give a damn about my voice!"
Too agitated to notice anything but Luke's shaken state in front of him, Han missed Leia's approach which Luke had obviously sensed before she had even stepped a foot outside her bedroom.
She stopped beside Han, eyes blinking, and raised a hand to his forearm still groggy with sleep. Han barely noticed it. Either his body was on fire or her hand too cold. He didn't really care.
"What's going on? Han?"
Han kept his gaze hard on Luke, giving him one last chance to wipe the slate clean and take it all back. Part of Han willed him to do it, to close the lid on that soul-consuming want for good. Yet, another part yearned for Luke to just yank it away and let it all roam free.
When neither of them answered, Leia turned to Luke who remained silent and grim. His whole expression spelled regret, just like that smile four years ago. Han wanted to smack it down, whatever means necessary.
"Luke what's wrong? What has he done now?"
"Oh, that's great!" Han let out a deranged laugh, the sting of accusation so familiar he had to roll his eyes, "Me?! How original! Always blame the angry Corellian!"
"How many times do I have to tell you that yelling about it won't improve your argument?"
"Has it ever crossed your mind that I might have reasons for yelling?!"
"Surprise me, Han."
Her provocation stunned him. Han almost laughed in her face. He'd surprise her all right, if the panic imprinted on Luke's face didn't fill his gut with guilt.
Han let out a deep sigh and raised his hands in defeat.
"You know what, I'm outta here."
"Han!"
"Let him go." Luke told his sister.
"He always leaves when he knows he's lost the fight. Usually it just takes him longer," Leia said, hoping to bait Han back to their conversation, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
"Han, come back here! Where do you think you're going?" she yelled after him.
"A swim!" He yelled back, not straying from the path towards the shed where they kept the landspeeder. He could still hear Luke and Leia chatter in the background while he took the dusty motor out and turned on the engine. Their low voices slowly drove him insane.
"Well, just let him go. It will cool him down," Leia reasoned, "Talk to me later?"
"Yeah, sure." Luke replied toneless.
"I have a council meeting in an hour. Winter will be here in a few minutes to pick me up. I'll drop Ben at school on my way to the embassy. When I come back we can train together."
"If you wish. But let me take care of Ben, he can spend the day with me."
"Luke," Leia's voice softened, "You came here to rest, not work."
"I came here to be with my family," Luke told her, "And Ben is never work."
"That's because you spoil him too much."
"And you spoil me."
"Well, someone has to."
Han felt more than heard the bitterness in Leia's voice.
The sunny morning had passed by the time Han got out of the water, body cooled by the chilling sea though not so much his temper. Windswept surf bit into his bones as the waves grew taller and broke thundering behind him. Han plodded his way back towards the landspeeder left alone in the middle of the sandy expanse. It looked abandoned and rusty from afar, worn beyond use, less than scrap. The whole setting did: a bleak morning in a remote beach on a backwater planet somewhere on the Outer Rim. In no way did it resemble the cozy piece of heaven nestled among cliffs and pine trees by Han and Leia's home on Corellia. The place Ben had run up and down to exhaustion, the place Luke and Leia had spent so many hours training together, the place Han had escaped to so many nights just to watch the starry sky merge with the ocean and imagine himself on the Falcon, flying through space, sand beneath his fingers.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that before." Luke's feet moved silently through the sand, his sullen voice the only thing signaling his approach. Han paid him no mind, preferring to grudge the brown, coarse sand beneath his feet. He finished zipping up his pants and took a deep breath before turning around, unsure whether he wanted to pick up where they'd left off. He expected Luke to offer a nice outlet to his rage but no actual closure as usual.
"You're apologizing for what? The truth?" Han shook off the remaining water from his hair and grunted, "Don't bother."
Luke had his eyes set on him, unwavering, shining that impossible blue even when there were only gray clouds and murky seas to reflect on them.
"What did you mean you were waiting?"
"You know damn well what I meant." Han snarled, dusting the sand off his shirt.
"I really don't. All these years you got everything you wanted and-"
"So did you," Han cut in sharply, crumpling his shirt and throwing it into the speeder with no intention to put it back on. He could feel the embers of his fury rekindling. "Got to be a Jedi like your father, didn't you?"
"Yes, but-"
"But what?"
"You're dodging my question, Han. What could you possibly have been waiting for-?"
"You!" the word left Han's mouth in rage and desperation, in a tone rougher than he had meant it. But it was the truth and damn it if he wasn't going to stand by it now when it had taken him years to finally admit it. All at once, he felt strong and weak. Torn apart by that tiny word that had escaped his lips so easily and shattered his world. He didn't realize he was at Luke's mercy, only that Luke's shock provided him the silence he needed to carry on blabbering like a fool, disclosing the full case of his stupidity.
"Yes, you! It was you all along! I was waiting for you to take me away from all of it!"
"How could I?" Luke asked him in disbelief.
"Yeah, you couldn't," adrenaline clouded Han's judgment and he found no kindness to reply with as his body got bombarded with emotions he couldn't restrain, "You're not the same ballsy kid who begged me to stay on Yavin Four."
His gibe found a crack in Luke's shields .
"I didn't beg you." Luke muttered.
"I went back for you all the same, didn't I?" Han stepped forward and jabbed a finger in Luke's chest "To save your skin!"
"You did," Luke didn't so much as flinch, "On Hoth too."
"And you've repaid me that a hundred times over," Han said exasperated, eager to purge the empathy from Luke's face and get to the passion simmering beneath. Memories of battles fought together flew by, "Yavin, Hoth, Jabba's, Coruscant, it doesn't matter anymore! I don't give a damn about the score."
"What then?"
"You really don't get it, do ya? It just doesn't get through that damn thick skull of yours," out of breath, Han raked a hand through his damp hair, "I'm crazy about you, kid. Always have been. And since I found out, it has been hell all this waiting."
Luke reached out a trembling hand but drew it back at his next thought.
"What about Leia?"
"What about her? I love her, but not in the way you think. Not for a long while now. We've just stuck together because of Ben, and all we had-" Han paused, finding it hard to grasp his own logic "All you had was us. Sick, isn't it?"
Luke's big blue eyes widened in shock, free of confusion, as if he'd had one of his deepest secrets revealed. He recollected in a few seconds and lowered his head to hide his embarrassment.
"Oh, quit it, will ya? We're all guilty in this," Han grumbled, "If it hadn't been for Ben, who knows where I'd be now. In a dump somewhere in Nar Shaddaa, back to smuggling spice to the Outer Rim."
"No, Han. It's my fault. I shouldn't have said anything. You two belong together, always have, I-"
Han's short fuse burst.
"Don't flatter yourself the misunderstood little homewrecker, Luke. This family was well messed up before I ever bothered kissing the starlights out of you that night. Or were you already this self-pitying then? I guess you were."
"Not everyone can be like you and just take whatever they want on a whim."
Luke's demeanor staggered Han as much as the admittance did. It hurt. Truth usually did and Luke dealt it with expertise. The byproduct of endless hours of second-guessing himself, or 'meditating' as the Jedi liked to call it, not to mention the myriad diplomatic interventions to settle peace arrangements and bring more nations into the folds of the Republic. Fortunately Han was well versed in Leia's own jugglery of truth.
"Hell, if only you were! With you everything just has to be so fucking difficult."
"It's not a choice for me." Luke said nonchalantly, voice too low for comfort. Han huffed, nearly fuming.
"Of course it's a damn choice! You're just punishing me for not seeing it sooner. For Leia, for everything!"
"Punishing you?"
Luke's right hand hit Han's chest so quickly, Han heard his own gasp before he felt the impact and stumbled backwards. He tripped over his feet half buried in the sand and fell back against the speeder. When he looked up, Luke was towering over him in fury, the white robe no longer shrouding the tender skin he tried to hide, but revealing tight muscles that strained to contain his anger.
"Do you have any idea what I could do to you, to Leia, to Ben... if I didn't get hold of my feelings? All those times I asked you to leave me be, to let me think, I asked because I needed to be at peace. Only at peace would I be able to know the good from the bad. Yoda taught me that."
"So I'm bad for you, uh?"
"No! I am!" Luke brought up his hands in despair "If I let my feelings control me I might- I could- I don't know what would happen."
"I'm hearing a lot of if's here."
"Han, don't you see? I'd be just like my father." Luke's voice broke and a pitiful grimace surfaced, allowing Han a modest glimpse into the years of self-reproach he knew had sabotaged most of Luke's decisions. "So many times I heard the call, felt the pull to the Dark side. Sometimes it's like they never left."
They. Han's fists clenched just thinking about them. Palpatine, Vader, even Yoda and Kenobi. So eager to use Luke to further their own agendas and delusions, they forgot about the scars they might leave behind. That was Luke, a whole living breathing scar.
"You're afraid." Han observed.
"You'll have to be more specific." Luke replied, his smirk derision itself.
"You're afraid of losing control."
"Yes, I am."
"You're afraid of losing control when it comes to me?"
Luke nodded again, his expression grave.
"I gotta say," a smug smile tugged at the corners of Han's mouth as he pulled himself up, "Hearing you say that makes me feel pretty damn good."
"Han! Have you been listening to a word I said?!" Luke's outburst brought color to his cheeks and a fire to his eyes.
"I have, kid. And I can tell you the gist of it too," Han said, running a hand down his own bare chest, "You want me just as much as I want you and denying it has driven both of us mad."
His hand found Luke's neck and reached up to slide a thumb over Luke's lower lip. That hot, consuming hunger uncoiled in the pit of his stomach, erasing the cold of the sea.
"Tell me I'm right."
He wouldn't have bet a single credit on Luke's consent, but before Han could lower his head, Luke's arms had looped around his neck and soft lips had covered his mouth seeking the warmth within. Han groaned in response, pressing his whole body into Luke's and fighting down a roll of Corellian curses.
"You don't know." Luke's breathless whisper shook Han to the core. The world tilted for a moment and he had to lean back on the speeder not to lose his footing. He sought the collar of Luke's robe and the side of his neck before finally burying his hands in Luke's hair. A ravenous sigh of contentment escaped at a craving avenged at last. Han had lost count to the times he'd fantasized about stroking those blond locks, feel their caress between his legs. A real hardness pressing against his thigh got him grinning.
"So you are happy to see me." Han noted, grinding his hips in return.
"You've been yelling at me without your shirt on for the gods know how long, what did you expect?" Luke's rough answer didn't match the bashful look on his face. The speedy complaint brought back the memory of that impatient kid of long ago and Han's heart did a little somersault, enough to put to rest the remains of his reputation as a crook.
"Not that long."
He cupped Luke's cheek to pull him close but Luke stopped him.
"What is it?"
"Your hands are cold." Luke's fingers curled around Han's wrists and guided Han's calloused hands under his robe. The delicate gesture hypnotized Han and sent a rush of something more than lust cursing through his veins, seizing his whole being. He followed the path of his hands as Luke steered them over his own body, up his torso and down again to his hipbones, Han's fingertips sliding along rippled muscle and heated skin.
"Han?" Luke directed his question to Han's entranced look. But Han had no answer. He pulled Luke back into his arms and kissed him hard, finding no other solution as fulfilling and sweet as Luke's breath mingling with his own. Why had they taken so long to get here when it was this easy? Han wanted to melt under Luke's touch, overwhelmed at the display of devotion and certainty, as if this passionate Luke of his dreams couldn't be real. He'd imagined Luke bare of his walls before, fallen victim to nothing but unadulterated need, yet it had been nothing like this, so heartrending, so complete. That's how it was with Luke. Fantasy always paled in comparison.
A moan vibrated low in Han's throat when Luke's mouth trailed down his chin. Han threw his head back in pleasure, shunning away the mental image of his wriggling toes on the sand, proof of a silly adolescent excitement he didn't recognize as his own. Luke's lips brushed his stubble as he searched for the throbbing pulse in Han's neck and then nipped at it, teeth raking tender skin.
Han shut his eyes cursing, riding the surge of heat that rushed through his body.
"Salty." Luke's playful tone suspended Han's moment of bliss, commanding his whole attention back to him with another kiss.
Han lost it at the taste of sea in Luke's mouth. The fine thread of bewilderment that had kept him together, too stunned at Luke's bold advances to react, crackled. The latch holding him back vanished and all his raw hunger stormed out, eager to devour the vulnerability being offered to him. Strength seeped into his bones and a lonely thought howled through his mind, scouring like desert wind.
Luke.
With a firm grip on Luke's hips, Han switched their positions, trapping Luke against the speeder. He slipped one thigh between Luke's legs, drawing out a loud gasp of surprise he exploited at once, stealing Luke's breath in a sloppy but thorough kiss. Luke squirmed under him, body trembling as Han ran his hands down Luke's flanks, groping his way down with relish.
"Wait- Han..."
The small broken whimpers coming out of Luke's mouth flared the heat pooling in Han's groin and his senses overloaded with Luke's presence; the windswept blond hair mussed by Han's possessive grip, entwined softly between his fingers; the lingering traces of body wash blended with the scents of sweat and pine from Luke's trek down the forest to the beach; his flushed tan skin which tasted alien yet incredibly sweet and addictive. Han couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself be so consumed like this, reason so wiped from mind he was nearly past the point of no return.
"Han, no..." Luke pushed against his chest, panting hard, "Not like this."
Han grunted in denial and sank his teeth into the side of Luke's neck.
"Please, Han..." The rugged accent of want faded from Luke's voice and he brushed away a few strands of damp hair from Han's eyes. The softness of his touch thwarted Han's passionate spur.
He released Luke's neck with a final lap of tongue over his mark and forced his gaze upwards.
"I'm sorry, Han," Luke's flushed complexion gave Han heartache, "I want it too. So much. But not like this."
Logic took its long way around Han's brain, too clogged with fresh sensations to process anything coherent.
"We need to make it right."
"More right than this? Not possible, kid."
Han was still catching his breath when Luke's meaning reached him, along with everything else. Mostly the words husband, Leia and Ben. Going further wouldn't be fair on them, nor was anything that had happened so far, no matter how satisfying.
"I think you need another dip in the ocean." Luke goaded.
Han shot him an offended look, brows raised.
"Me?"
Luke huffed in amusement and glanced down at the aftermath of the friction between them.
"Alright, we both do."
"That can be arranged."
Han tugged at Luke's robe suggestively and gestured toward the rolling sea waves. The clouds overhead had parted on cue, slanting streaks of pure sunlight across the ocean. Han turned towards Luke and burst out in laughter.
"What are you laughing at?"
Han would never get tired of that stupid look on his face. Mouth slightly ajar, pupils blown wide taking everything in. Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and Hero of the Alliance, baffled by the sight of so much water in one place.
"You mind your own business," Han replied gruffly, scrunching up his nose to compose himself, "You still remember how to swim?"
"As much as you remember being an idiot."
"Takes one to know one, buddy."
"And immature."
"That's Ben's fault."
"I forgive you then."
The door to Ben's room closed silently behind Han as the bleep of Leia's keycard came from the front door. Another late night. Outside, the sun had gone down two hours ago and been replaced with an unusual starry sky.
Han sought refuge in the living room, unable to bring himself to greet Leia with the slightest brush of lips. The thought of what he must do filled him with pain and, as the moment approached, he could feel purpose leaving him. The vulgar side of his personality, the one that refused to bury the smuggler and the coward, marred his precious moments with Luke and coaxed him with easy solutions that were no solution at all. He tried to cling to the memory of Luke pressed against him, eyes clear and blue and alive, for the first time in ages, with that pure gleam of hope.
Leia's voice broke the spell.
"Where's Luke?"
"He's gonna spend the night in town." Han replied. His vague wording startled Leia and her purse clattered as she set it down on the table behind the sofa.
"What? Luke? My brother?" she asked bewildered.
Anxiety about the ensuing conversation forestalled any funny quip from Han, though the notion of Luke going out to have fun was enough to extort laughter from a dead man.
"Yeah," Han gulped dryly, "We need to talk."
Tension shot up Leia's spine. She drew up her shoulders and fixed a loose curl behind her ear to mask her surprise, unaccustomed to any kind of preamble to their fights.
"Nice to see you taking the initiative. Have you apologized to Luke yet?"
Han's brow twitched.
"Yeah, sorta," he grumbled "Never mind all that earlier. I..." he didn't know where to begin. He closed his mouth, appalled at the cheap excuses flooding his brain.
His reluctance brought Leia round the sofa to sit next to him.
"Is everything okay?" she asked him, thoughts flying to her biggest concern "Ben, where's Ben?"
"In his room. Ben's fine." Han said. He couldn't help but think Ben's well being was the sole thing he could assuage her about. "Had to tell him our little space slug adventure for the hundredth time before he finally fell asleep."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I mean, I..." Han fumbled with words again, scratching the scar on his chin. He had never felt more inadequate in his life. His dry throat begged for a drink but his conscience held him back. He had to do it right for Leia, for Luke, for himself.
"This is serious," Leia shuffled on the edge of her seat "You're talking about us."
"Yeah, no..." Han frowned at his own indecision, "I mean yes, but there's more."
Leia stood silent, listening.
"It's about Luke-"
"Oh no, not this again," she interrupted him before he could finish. Her patience had been worn thin after a day full of speeches and compromises. The robotic buzz of four protocol droids assigned to translate her evening meetings still throbbed inside her skull. A chagrin worthy of Threepio's worst remonstrations. "Can't you see he is doing better now? Rebuilding the Order has given Luke back true purpose, something to focus on," Leia's gesticulating hands dropped before she continued, "He's not that empty vessel anymore. Besides, we are his family, he has every right to come as he pleases-"
"No, you are. You're his sister." Han's retort came too abrupt, its bite proof of a dire need to reestablish the boundaries between the three of them.
Leia let out a little chuckle, amused by his standoffish reply.
"And you're nothing to him? Han, please. I'm baffled we're even having this conversation. What were you two arguing about earlier?"
Han remained silent, fighting the urge to drown his frustrations in a gallon of Corellian brandy, the organ-damaging kind. He couldn't help but resent how admitting anything to Leia would put the final dent on his barge of self-loathing. Yet, not doing it would be to deny himself Luke's trust, to deny himself any part of Luke forever, and Han had already spent too long doing that.
Maybe that's my penance. I end up with nothing at all.
"I don't get you, Han. You pester me and Madine about how we handle Luke's position in the government. You're always yapping about how we dump every unpleasant mission nobody else wants on him, which by the way is a complete fabrication! Then you say the best thing Luke ever did was hide in his rock, away from all of us! You hate it when he comes, you hate it when he leaves. You tell me everything's fine, then I find you two arguing about the gods-know-what at six in the morning and neither of you has the decency to explain to me what the hell is going on-" she stopped to take a deep breath, "You're just so selfish sometimes, it's unbelievable. Have you ever thought about how I feel? About how Luke must feel?"
"I have thought about nothing else!" Han cried out, "I can't stand it!"
Leia didn't flinch at his outburst, she was too used to those. However, the pained expression in Han's face got her attention and a certain recognition dawned on her.
"Han," she called him softly, treading new ground, "You can tell me. You can tell me now." she rubbed the tight muscles on his shoulder to ease the tension and Han let his head fall into both his hands.
"Han, we can stop pretending now."
"How?"
A sad smile crossed Leia's lips.
"We're so used to it we don't know how to live without it, uh?"
"That's probably the wisest thing you've said in months." Han declared, bringing his head back up. When he met Leia's eyes he knew only the truth would set him free.
"It's Luke. Me and Luke."
"I knew." her acknowledgment stung like the shot from a blaster, yet there was a small sense of relief. Han stared at her without response.
"I've had my suspicions. The way you've always looked after him, even now when he barely needs help from anyone at all. You can't help but fuss over him. But I never gave it much thought because I liked that about you. The soft side you hide behind all that stupid bravado was what made me fall in love with you in the first place."
"And here I thought it were my good looks and scoundrel ways."
"Those too," Leia added with a teasing smile, though it faded fast "But it wasn't enough, was it? That's why you turned to Luke, so he could give what I didn't."
"So you admit it?" Han sneered "I'm impressed."
"Well, you stopped asking." Leia rebuked.
After a mournful moment of silence, Leia stood up and paced along the room before stopping by the window.
"I thought Ben would give us a second chance. For a while it seemed true."
"It was true, Leia." Han replied from his seat, fists clenched.
"The year he was born was the happiest I've ever been, even with all the sleepless nights and hormones racking my body. I thought nothing could tear us apart again. I promised myself I would compromise. Let the committees talk each other out for a change, leave the senate to its own devices. But I was too fearful. Every time I looked at Ben's face I worried I wasn't doing my best to keep him safe, give him the life he deserved. A life as far away from war and strife, so he wouldn't have to know loss like I did." she glanced at the sky through the window and Han could tell she still ached for Alderaan, for her childhood, for her home. An ache that would never stop.
"Ben's home is wherever you and me are." Han said. He followed her to the wide window which overlooked a darkness where forest and sky mingled into formless shadow.
"Don't get sentimental on me now, Han. You're years too late," Leia moved away from the window and brushed off his hand to go settle in the center of the room as Senator Organa was wont to do "It's not that simple and you know it."
"Maybe I don't."
"Then I must give Luke due credit for making a believer out of you. Seems like I never could."
Han throttled the impulse to snap back. He didn't want this fight. Trading insults with Leia because of Luke would be another weight on his pile of regrets he couldn't bear.
"He tends to get under your skin."
"Don't I know it," Leia replied, berating herself. She took another deep breath before pursuing more practical concerns, "What are you gonna do now?" she asked.
"I don't know." Han said. He leaned back against the window, abhorred by his own reflection. "I've hurt you and Luke. It's killing me."
Leia scoffed.
"At least you're honest, I'll give you that."
"But I wanna be here. I don't want to lose you or Ben."
"You won't. Luke wouldn't let you, nor would I," Leia said with a smile, "And I don't want to lose you either. We've meant too much to each other for too long. Even if things don't work between us anymore, I still need you to be a father to Ben."
"Of course I will be a father to Ben," Han kicked at the condescending request "That goes without saying."
"I know."
"I guess I gotta tell Chewie, go see how the old lady's keeping. You can stay."
"No, Han. Corellia is your homeworld. You should stay."
"What do I want it for?"
Memories, a voice inside him answered. Images sprang up, Leia's silhouette on the garden at sunset with her hands resting on her full belly, Ben's hysterical laughter the first time his feet touched sea water, Luke's gentle smile whenever he came to visit.
"Never was any good to me while I was here by myself. You can have it."
"You've already given me plenty," Leia said. Her smooth fingers found his jaw and traced its hard line in a tender motion. "Even if you don't care to admit it."
Han grunted, unable to hide his gratitude.
"Please take care of him," Leia's gaze hardened with the plea. Han found her meaning all too simple "Don't let him be alone."
"I won't. I promise."
Leia smiled, her first real smile in weeks. It was the same smile Han had seen in a different face, years before, under a canopy of stars.
LUKE'S JEDI TEMPLE – NEW REPUBLIC ERA
The planet Luke had chosen to begin the Order anew had none of the bleak charms of the old dust ball he had once called home. For starters, it had trees, which was a big improvement on the barren, almost two dimensional wasteland of sand and rock surrounding his uncle's moisture farm. It had rivers and oceans with curling surfaces that sparkled under a hot midday sun, and a few downsides to non-Jedi folk. According to Intel, the small planet couldn't boast of much human civilization or any sort of official spaceport to dock in, except a wide open enclosure near Luke's dwelling where the Jedi kept his patched X-wing and a weird assortment of land cruisers and small spacecrafts, testament to his passion for flying.
The temple building was modest, erected from the remains of a rebel outpost which had been grazed to the ground by the rebels themselves in an emergency evacuation during the war. To the present day, the whole star system remained abandoned, as did the Imperial factories and refineries that had once been set in nearby colonized planets for mining operations. Han had been surprised. When he finally got over Intel's red tape and managed to wrench Luke's location from Tekka's fawners, a lost star system in the Mid Rim had been the last place he'd think of. Going by Luke's aloofness and persistent adherence to solitude, Han thought Luke might have holed up in the Outer Rim, somewhere like Dagobah, a place Han knew still haunted him. But Luke's final choice was still near enough the Uncharted Regions to uphold all the secrecy required, and very humble. From high up, the temple looked tiny, unable to house twenty people at most, and, though it was new, moss and climbers already gathered up its walls.
Han was too angry to absorb the whole picture though. He was too angry to manage a successful landing under clear skies and on even ground, a humiliating display which Chewie didn't fail to remind him of with a grim howl. Han played deaf and dumb to mitigate the embarrassment and chose to focus on the nature of his outrage: Luke, as always. Unlike Leia who knew exactly which buttons to push to manipulate Han as she pleased, Luke invariably seemed to press them all at once.
Take care of yourself Han. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it?
Han gritted his teeth and jumped out of his seat after the Falcon screeched to a halt. He could very well recite Luke's words back at him now, though the role reversal sent a shot of bile up his throat. Han didn't know if he wanted to punch Luke or kiss him stupid. Maybe he should just leave. Luke probably regretted everything that had happened on Corellia anyway, an idea which, admittedly, had been festering inside Han for weeks. Yet, the moment he stepped outside the Falcon, a familiar feeling took hold of him and he was brought back to the day he had swaggered towards that Mos Eisley cantina with no knowledge of the moment that would change his life forever.
Chewie's hairy chest collided with the back of his head at the bottom of the ramp.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Han grunted, his sharp hearing caught every nuance of Chewie's vexing comment, "No, I was not spacing out! And no, I am not a lovesick buffoon! Just go hug a tree and leave me alone. Hell, I'm getting too old for this."
Chewie seemed impervious to Han's flustered outburst and left him to go check the Falcon's hull plating. Han dismissed him with a wave of his hand and strode off towards the temple under a scorching sun.
A cloak of strange local greenery covered the simple blocks of solid rock that gave longevity to the temple's structure and framed its entrance. It reminded Han of the massive temple at Yavin Four, hidden in a thick jungle teeming with unknown squallers. However, instead of hollering creatures hidden in the surrounding undergrowth, here reigned only silence and fitful gusts of wind that swept up the dusty earth all around the temple.
Han walked in barely suppressing a cough.
"Welcome." a calm voice greeted him. Han's eyes took their time adjusting to the dark hallway he had stepped into. He looked around, taking in the plain setting until he could make out the Twi'lek standing a few feet away from him. A bland brown cloak fell over her traditional tight-fitting attire.
"I'm Khara Lor. Please come on in, General Solo. We've been expecting you."
"I bet you were." Han huffed. He knew perfectly well those Church of the Force stooges must have stumbled over their feet to rat him out to Luke's students the minute he had stormed out of their offices.
"Where is he?" Han cut straight to the point, patience wearing thin.
"Are you looking for Master Luke?" Khara seemed to sense his anger and her sham ignorance put it to the test.
"Yeah, Luke, where the hell is he?"
"He went out with the young ones."
"When is he coming back?"
"Whenever the young ones are ready."
Han sighed and leaned one hand against the wall, too strung out to deal with crazy Jedi precepts.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means we must wait," Khara said matter-a-factually "If you and your Wookiee companion would please follow me, I'll show you the temple. It's your first time here, isn't it?"
Han nodded with a heavy expression.
"Yeah, that's right. And I'm regretting it already."
The sky had taken purple and orange hues following the sun's descent. By then Khara Lor had finished her tour of the temple, offered Han and Chewie a plain tasteless meal and left them to their own devices. They returned to the Falcon complaining about the food like a pair of old geezers who, not knowing how to cook themselves, had a knack for criticizing the efforts of others who refused to live off synthesized food.
The ship had sustained unnecessary damage after Han's clumsy landing so he busied himself with repairs, but his heart wasn't in it. His feelings of frustration and anger festered more and more as he bid his time to meet Luke. For a man of limited imagination, he began elaborating complex schemes to justify Luke's absence, perhaps even some intentional avoidance. Khara's words multiplied in his mind like an infection. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. We must wait. Did she even know how long he had been waiting? The days, the months, the years? Every second now was unbearable and if Han could let go of it all and blast off out of there he damn well would have. But he couldn't. And he hated it. He pulled a dead circuit stuck between two batteries and a spark of electric charge jolted him.
Chewie's angry remarks came at once and he growled that if Han couldn't do the job right he might as well stay put.
"I know what I'm doing!" Han shot back.
Light footsteps in the ship's main corridor put a stop to their quarrel and the figure of Khara Lor appeared in the doorway of the engineering bay.
"Is he back?" the question left Han's mouth before he could think it.
"No, not yet. But it's getting dark outside. I came to invite you over. There may be dust storms during the night and you won't be able to leave your ship."
"Dust storms?" Han interjected "And Luke is out there with kids?"
"They will be fine. Master Luke will take care of them."
He can't even take care of himself! Han's mouth opened to protest, but he couldn't say it. He might have once. Now he knew enough about Luke to know a dust storm wouldn't stop him. Besides, Han had no idea about Luke's life at the temple, nor how he and his students had learned to cope with the planet's weather and wild life.
Han and Chewie followed Khara to the temple and she led them to a couple of empty rooms yet bereft of students to occupy them.
"You can sleep here. I'll call you once Master Luke arrives."
Han fell down on the hard mattress feeling much like the new kid who has to spend the night in the cargo hold. The room followed the general lines of the temple, simple and modest. Bare walls, pourstone floors, a bed and a storage container. Han heard Chewbacca's low grumbling of contentment next door, no doubt rejoicing the opportunity to rest, and decided to do as his friend. He shut his eyes and went to sleep.
A dark silhouette stood by the window of his room when he woke up.
Han's heart swelled three times its actual size, pressing painfully against his chest. Then the pain subsided and an unbelievable wave of calm washed over him, as if the whole universe were cradling him. It wasn't the Force or some shady Jedi trick, just Luke.
Han tried to bring back the flames of his indignation after being left behind on Corellia without so much as a note, but Luke's voice dismissed every coherent thought from his mind.
"Hey."
Luke's dark figure against the moonlight was a spitting image of the black-clad Jedi that had saved Han from Jabba's place and the galaxy from the Emperor's reign of terror. Fevered dreams from Han's encapsulated time in carbonite clouded memories of that time, but Han remembered the stranger that had eluded him for years. The one who had tried to hide his cold right hand and the reasons behind it. The stranger who had been born from Bespin and consumed the bright eyed kid whose love Han had slighted, afraid of what it might do to him. The stranger that was no more after the birth of his son.
"How long have I been asleep?" Han asked, propping up on his elbows.
"A couple of hours."
"When did you comeback?"
"Just now. I didn't mean to wake you up."
Han scoffed.
"Yeah, if it was up to you I might as well have stayed home." the meaning of the word 'home' flew past Han's filters unchecked.
Luke stilled and averted his eyes.
"Why didn't you?"
Oh, so he was in a mood too. Great. Han could do with a row.
"I don't know, take a guess."
His joints cracked as he stretched on the bed. Luke watched him silently from the corner of his eye, unmovable. He turned his eyes away when Han stood up and walked over to him. There was a pause before he spoke.
"That night, why did you do it?"
Han shrugged. He followed Luke's gaze to the black sky outside, illuminated by three small moons. Luke could only be referring to one night in particular, a night which Han had relived in his mind way too many times.
"I told you, because I wanted you back."
"I never left."
"Are you trying to fool me or yourself?" Han's reproach lacked the fire he intended, "Hell Luke, I don't know why I kissed you but I'm glad I did."
"No excuses then?"
Han shot him an insulted look and crossed his arms
"So I'm good with excuses, is that what you're saying? You're starting to sound like your sister."
"Well, your excuses were getting sloppy back then," Luke said. The hazy expression on his face told Han his thoughts still dwelt on the past, "You were dying to leave us. Me, Leia, the Rebellion."
"Yeah, I couldn't wait to leave," Han conceded "It was getting too dangerous for me. I'd already lost everything once, I couldn't lose it again. I had Chewie, the Falcon and more importantly my freedom."
Luke turned towards him slowly, his expression bearing the patience of a teacher.
"We were fighting for freedom, Han. Freedom for everyone."
Han chuckled.
"Still the idealist, Luke. Even after all this time."
Luke opened his mouth to retaliate but Han stopped him.
"I wasn't afraid of the war. I grew up in it. I knew why and how it took from people. Gods, I even served at the Academy in Carida," Han added with an eye-roll, "The fighting part I never had problems with."
"What was it then?" Pretense had fallen from Luke's condescending tone and he looked at Han with a genuine desire to understand him.
"You, making my life miserable." Han said with a little smile. Luke frowned.
"But I spoke the truth. The Alliance needed you. I thought you realized that after Yavin."
"Yeah, Yavin was such an eye opener for me," Han scoffed "Too bad I didn't realize the scope of your penchant for suicide missions, could have spared myself so much grief."
"Han-" Luke reached out a hand but Han pushed it aside, too caught up in pleading his own case.
"You were gonna blow yourself up along with the Death Star and you didn't even care!"
"Someone had to do it. Han, please. We've had this argument so many times now. Do we always have come back to it?"
"Yes, we have. You asked me why I was dying to leave back then and I'm telling ya! If I had stayed I'd be trading my freedom for you, only you seemed to be going out of your way to get killed every other day in one of those inspired rebel missions! I had to leave."
Silence seemed impossible, but Luke's reply was meek.
"I didn't know."
"No, you didn't."
"You could have told me, I-"
"You were a kid with a head so full of dreams they were coming out of your ears." Han said, though by the time they had gotten to Hoth, Luke had grown up a bit, enough to entertain Han's thoughts at night when Luke's image was the last thing on his mind as he spilled into his own hand. At first desperate to get warm, later beset by want, unable to stop.
Han's eyes roamed Luke's figure now. He noticed Luke was wearing the same type of cloak as Khara, except he had coarse brown robes underneath it, reminiscent of Old Kenobi.
"You stopped wearing black after Ben was born."
Han's eyes searched Luke's face for a reaction. Luke's mouth opened slightly to reply, but he settled for a shy smile, knowing it was enough.
"You dote on him too much, you know?"
"I can't help it."
"So you're not afraid of your feelings then? Ben and Leia, they're okay," spite laced Han's voice as he put his logic together "Them you let get close – you always have - even when Leia wanted nothing to do with you," he drew nearer to Luke, trapping him against the wall. "It's me you push away."
"Because you're the one I want to have close more than anyone."
Han's breath caught in his throat. Luke's eyes were on him again, making mush of his knees and brain. He swallowed down hard, ignoring the desire flaring up all over his body, and managed to salvage his outrage with a snicker.
"Yeah, I got that message crystal clear."
"Han, my father tortured you to get to me, don't you remember?"
"I'm still here."
Luke lifted his hands to hold Han's face, his touch soft.
"But I'll bind you to me," he said, tightening his grip "I've already taken so much from you, I can't do it any more. I left Corellia to give you a chance to make things right."
Han grabbed Luke's hands by the wrists and pulled them down, not letting go.
"I made them right, I settled everything so I could be with you."
"I wanted to give you a way out."
"Luke, I don't want a way out, I want you to let me in, damn it!"
When Luke didn't answer, Han released his wrists to walk about the room, hoping to dispel the sense of entrapment. He glanced at the night sky through the window, wishing to run back to the Falcon, but clouds had advanced during the course of their conversation and hid the moons and the stars. He could hear the wind howling amidst the silence. A dust storm was brewing.
"I'm sorry, Han," Luke's voice was so tender Han's heart stopped. He turned around and saw Luke taking off his cloak and placing it on the bed. "I don't know how to do this."
Luke stared at his cloak, quiet as a statue, hands hanging by his sides.
"I tried to forget after Bespin, I-" he stopped after the last word and clenched his fists. Han approached him again, slowly, too stunned to mind his crude wording.
"Forget what?"
"How much I cared."
Han's chest barely touched Luke's back. He covered Luke's right hand with his own.
"I know. It changed you. When I held your hand in that desert storm after you rescued me from Jabba, I knew I'd lost you."
Luke's shoulders sagged and Han inched closer from behind, reigning in the urge to wrap his arms around him.
"I'm glad you and Leia found each other. You gave me peace when nothing else did."
"Luke, stop that," Han protested by his ear ,"Don't you want me here?"
"I shouldn't."
"Says who?"
"Me. I'm not supposed to have any of this." Luke declared. Han noticed the belief with which he said it, as if the notion was fact. He found Luke's resignation to his own solitary existence pitiful, and he couldn't help but despise it as well.
"I don't know what will happen," Luke turned around, head cast down, but he didn't move away, "Don't you have any doubts?"
"You're an idiot if you think I'm afraid, I could never be afraid of you. Not anymore."
Luke's head turned up, his eyes widened and he looked at Han with astonishment.
"You were?"
"Hell yeah, I was. When I met you... I-" Han paused, trying to find the words to describe their first meeting, the feelings a younger Luke had stirred in him, "I'd never met anyone like you," he said. Too much had happened since then for him to recall the past impartially. "On Hoth I guess it started to dawn on me how I'd never wanted someone so much. And you know me-"
"You must be free."
"Well, I was going to say I like my freedom." Han grumbled.
"You can't live without it."
"Wrong," Han corrected him. He grabbed Luke by the shoulders, seeking his undivided attention, "That was before. It's not like that anymore."
Yet, in a way it was. What more could truly represent freedom other than Luke?
"I've told you, haven't I? It's you I can't live without."
"Han, don't be-"
"Crazy? Too damn late for that."
HOSNIAN PRIME – NEW REPUBLIC ERA
Years had gone by since the last time Han had set foot in the capital. It was the first time he visited it as an independent agent and he wasn't sure if its mood agreed with him. Everyone dressed clever and moved about with purpose, faithful to the invisible strings that controlled their fates. Although it was a dazzling cosmopolitan city, tailor made to the values of its government, Han felt completely out of place there. He might have fitted in with the Rebellion - he had made a pretty good rebel after all - but lace and grace just wasn't his thing. His six years of marriage to an ambitious politician - later senator - had cemented the notion with multiple layers. Han felt the inadequacy twice as much as he crossed the polished aisle of the diplomatic hostel where Luke was currently staying at.
A few employees and ambassadors eyed him as he made his way to the lifts, exchanging looks behind his back which marked not only their disapproval of Han's trademark spacer outfit, but his lack of effort to appear anything less than regal. Han wished he'd brought Chewie along so he might have someone with whom to share a dozen snide remarks.
Luke's quarters were silent and tidy, undisturbed. Soft yellow light reflected off the floors of selonian marble and permeated every piece of furniture with a warm glow. Han let out a soft laugh, thinking how all the opulence was lost on its tenant, who, in Han Solo's opinion, proved a much more inebriating sight. He found him sitting by a small comm station, checking holovids from his students back at the temple. Khara Lor's image fizzled out as her message ended.
"So, how are they coping without their beloved master?" Han asked, settling down on a blue velvet divan.
"Better than me, that's for sure," Luke whined. He took out the holodisc and stored it away.
"Where did Ben go?"
Han glanced around in search of his nine year old son who now accompanied Luke everywhere as his apprentice. Ben's sensitivity to the Force had begun to show more and more as he grew up and, after a dozen temper tantrums at home which Leia had been unable to keep in check, she'd decided Ben was too volatile for her to train on her own.
"Leia came by earlier and took him to the Senate. Ben wanted to see the Chamber."
Han whistled his disapproval.
"'Watch him come back begging for a repulsorpod of his own," he muttered, "Don't even need the Force to tell me that."
"Oh? So the Force does tell you things?"
Luke had gotten very close very quickly and a playfulness coated his voice which his mischievous smile didn't bother to hide away. Han forgot his words just looking at him. Luke dove in for a kiss and Han savored the chaste touch of lips before pulling Luke down and setting him on his lap.
"Nice to see you too." Luke giggled.
"Did you miss me?"
"Not a bit."
"C'mere," Han groaned, tugging at the collar of Luke's robe. He demanded a flurry of kisses as compensation for the joke, a reparation Luke which was only too glad to offer. They broke apart gasping for air.
"How long 'till we leave?" Han asked, mind running single-track, "Are you done with the Church folks? Don't tell me Leia has snared you in again."
"No, I'm done," Luke replied, shifting over to sit next to Han "Ben's the one you have to worry about."
"I already worry too much about that boy." Han mumbled sullenly, stretching his legs.
"Leia wants to see you too. She missed you at the briefing."
"That's 'cause I got outta there as fast as I could. I don't want Rieekan or Madine to know I'm here. They always try to recruit me to one of their messy secret missions. Mercos caught me passing by the mess hall and that was enough. No matter how many times I tell those guys to drop the 'General' they just keep doing it like they're waiting for me to come back."
"And you just casually walked by the mess hall?"
"Don't you put words in my mouth, you know damn well I only came here 'cause you said I could take you and Ben home. I could have done that briefing from my bunk in the Falcon!"
"Yes, yes, I know."
Han's latest job accounted for his short stop at the Hosnian Sector's Headquarters. Since he had resigned his military commission five years ago, he'd reeled back to past familiar activities – those that bordered on space piracy in general – yet, more often than not, Han's endeavors intersected with the Alliance's own interests. Such had been the case with his last job, which had consisted in the extraction of two scouts from a compromised trade outpost in the Mid-Rim. The place had reminded him a lot of Nar Shaddaa; the cramped hangars, dirty alleys and seedy joints, even the crowd at the-
"The desert is coming to claim you."
"Han?"
The words flew from his mouth like an old song. The thought of that crummy smuggler's moon had triggered a strange remembrance. Han's brows furrowed as he tried to clear the dusty image in his mind and provide Luke with an answer.
"It's something I heard once, don't remember who told me either. I just know it was in some shady spaceport joint before getting tangled with Jabba. There was this Anzat guy who people said could read your mind."
"I've read that the Anzat as a species have a special connection to the Force," Luke said "They can sense it and tap into it."
"Whatever, I couldn't be bothered about it then," Han said, looping an arm around Luke's shoulders, "This guy comes up to me and tells it to my face that the desert was coming to claim me. I didn't admit it then, but it spooked me out."
Luke's gaze was miles away, accompanying Han's dream-like contemplation.
"The desert, uh?"
"Yeah."
"Could be worse." Luke said with a smirk. Han snorted.
"I can't really take your word for it, can I, kid?"
"I thought you wouldn't notice."
Han grunted offended.
"Keep rubbing it in."
Despite having seen his share of miracles to wonder at the powers of the Force, Han still wasn't all that sure about prophecies.
But if the desert was Luke Skywalker he'd let it claim him.
And he 't be bothered about it then," Han said, looping an arm around Luke's shoulders, "This guy comes up to me and tells it to my face that the desert was coming to claim me. I didn't admit it then, but it spooked me out."
Luke's gaze was miles away, accompanying Han's dream-like contemplation.
"The desert, uh?"
"Yeah."
"Could be worse." Luke said with a smirk. Han snorted.
"I can't really take your word for it, can I, kid?"
"I thought you wouldn't notice."
Han grunted offended.
"Keep rubbing it in."
Despite having seen his share of miracles to wonder at the powers of the Force, Han still wasn't all that sure about prophecies.
But if the desert was Luke Skywalker he'd let it claim him.
And he did.