Mind Tricks

by Corellian Blue

(first published 2003, revised 2016, 2020)

Warnings: mental health issues, sexual content

VIII

Leia had watched Han suffer for three hours. The headache had struck him at the clearing, when he had started rubbing his temple, and the ache and his distress had progressively increased.

By the time they had returned the speeder bike to the old Imperial compound and walked back to the Falcon, Han was continually massaging his forehead. He had point-blank refused to take medication to help himself, almost as if he was equating any drug with the spice derivative.

Han lit a small fire while Leia prepared them a meal of leftovers from the previous night, though the night was balmy and the flames more for atmosphere and light than warmth.

Lighting the campfire had been the extent of what Han could manage. He hardly touched the food on his plate, claiming he felt nauseous. As he hadn't eaten for over a day, Leia was mildly troubled by his lack of appetite. The warm, humid night added to his discomfit; he removed his jacket and sat away from the heat of the fire, resting his elbows on bent knees and holding his head in his hands, fingers pushing into and massaging his scalp.

Leia speculated whether the vision she'd had of Han vomiting on the ground was connected to his headache. A migraine could make him ill enough that he might throw up, but she'd never known him to experience a migraine. The worst headaches she'd seen were the result of him drinking too much, but as his hangovers were self-induced, she'd never had any sympathy for him.

Now was different. Leia couldn't bear watching him in pain. On the pretence of taking their plates back inside to the ship's galley, Leia made a detour to Han's cabin before returning to his side.

Han was lying flat out on the blanket, long legs twisted over at an uncomfortable angle, an arm slung across his face. She knelt next to him, but he didn't move until she touched his elbow. He dropped his arm and suspiciously eyed the capsule and beaker of water she held out to him.

"Analgesic," Leia softly explained, reassuring him it wasn't one of the spice capsules. The drofic remained safely in her pocket where she'd put them.

His gaze was wary.

"Han." Her tone brooked no argument. "Please. You're in pain."

He sighed in resignation and to her relief nodded. He propped himself up on his elbows, took the capsule and water from her and swallowed them. Leia retrieved the beaker from him and sat it on the ground. It would be at least a few minutes before the pain-relieving properties kicked in, but meanwhile she would make him as comfortable as possible. She scooted around behind him and propped her legs out across the blanket so that her body was at right angles to his.

"Lie back," she encouraged, easing his shoulders down until his head rested in her lap.

She removed his hand from his temple, laid it across his chest and shushed his mumbled protest. "Let me do that. Relax, Solo. And do as you're told for once."

Han closed his eyes and muttered, "Yes, ma'am."

The moment Leia placed her fingertips to his forehead, Han's face relaxed and his shoulders sagged in release. At first, she thought it was the effects of the analgesic, except she reasoned it couldn't have worked so quickly as the tablet had only just entered his stomach. She raised her fingers from his skin and the scowl returned to his face. She resumed her touch and a soft sigh escaped from his lips.

It was her doing. The simple touch of her fingers on his forehead eased his pain.

With slow, deliberate strokes, Leia brushed her fingers across his forehead, squeezed the bridge of his nose, moved down and pushed tender circles into his temples. Each movement of her fingers drew soft whimpers of relief from Han.

"Better?" she asked, already knowing the answer to the question but wondering exactly what it was that she was doing.

The corner of his mouth lifted and he whispered, "Better."

Leia focused on the tingling sensation in fingertips that increased with each stroke she made across his forehead. The sensation was not intense, more a gently vibrating heat that did not extend past the second joint of each finger. The warmth stretched from the end of her fingers, through her skin, bones and ligaments before dissipating into the rest of her hand and disappearing.

Leia tracked the warm flow back to its source, and as she suspected it came from Han. Although she had no experience with this phenomenon, she instinctively knew what was happening and she tested her theory by not thinking about relieving Han's distress. The tingling current in her fingers immediately stopped and the grimace of pain returned to Han's face. Leia turned quickly turned the flow of energy back on.

Her first reaction was gratitude that she had acquired this skill, then regret that she hadn't learnt how to use it earlier during the war; there were so many battles, so many dying and injured who would have benefited if she had known about her ability to relieve suffering.

But then she reasoned what she was doing now was not much better than what a spice-derivative or mild analgesic could achieve. She could take away Han's pain—the symptom—but she wasn't solving the cause of it. If she wanted to help him, she needed to deal with the source of the headache. Leia had experienced enough headaches herself that she knew where to look.

She closed her eyes to intensify her focus, slowed her breathing and projected a sense of relaxation and comfort towards Han, the way Luke had taught her.

Relax…Relax…Calm…Peace…

Han's breathing synced to hers and the weight of his shoulders increased against her thighs as he obeyed her silent suggestion. Leia suspected the blood vessels that encircled his skull were the cause of the headache, and so she called up a view of them in her mind. Disconcertingly, she was able to picture what they looked like. The extracranial arteries were dilated and distended from stress and tension. For Leia, it was as simple as imagining the arteries as they should be, and they reverted to their normal size.

A shuddering groan from Han made her open her eyes again. Head in her lap, his eyes were wide and alert.

"It's gone," he told her, a touch of wonder in his voice. "Just went."

Leia smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair, continuing to massage his scalp. "The analgesic must have worked."

"That quickly?" he asked sceptically. "And it didn't go gradually. One minute it was there, the next it was gone like—"

"Magic?"

Han's lips contained a hint of wry amusement. "Whatever. As long as it stays away."

He raised his shoulders as he gathered himself to move off her, but Leia pushed him back down again. He didn't resist.

"Why don't you stay there for a while longer," she suggested, continuing to work her fingers back through his thick hair. "Make sure the headache is gone for good."

He closed his eyes and settled against her legs. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he lightly accused.

"And you're not?"

He opened an eye and his mouth twisted into the crooked grin that she had seen so little of lately. "But don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my reputation."

"I won't tell a soul," she promised.

The princess continued with the head massage, enjoying the opportunity to give him her complete attention while at the same time repairing and re-affirming the bond between them. This is what it had been like at the beginning of their intimate relationship. The flight to Bespin had offered them time for love, peace and friendship. And there had been a lot of love.

Han had awakened a sexuality in the princess that she been ignoring for years. Leia's fanciful smile soured at the thought that they hadn't successfully made love since Bespin—over ten months ago. There had been numerous attempts since his rescue from Tatooine, but they had not consummated their love for each other. She knew the cause of this was in his mind, not his body, and she wondered if the revelation that she was Vader's daughter had also tainted the way Han now looked at her.

Leia suddenly had the distinct impression that someone was watching them. She raised her eyes from Han's face. The young man she had seen in the forest clearing earlier that afternoon was on the other side of the fire. His transparent image glowed and flickered; it was another vision.

Leia stared at the familiar-looking stranger, trying to remember where it was she knew him from. He smiled at her sadly, a smile reminiscent of the one Han had given her as he had been lowered into the pit of the carbon-freezing chamber on Cloud City. The memory of that moment was so horrific, Leia had to look down at Han's peaceful face in her lap to reassure herself that was all in the past. He was here with her now. Safe.

When she looked back through the fire, the image of the young man was gone.

"Leia?" Han's sleepy voice captured her attention. "C'm back t'bed."

Han had drifted off to sleep. Leia smiled fondly at his mildly erotic request and wondered if she might be able to share his dream with him. It had been far too long since she had been intimate with him.

Leia closed her eyes and focused on Han again, silently chanting to him: Relax…Relax…Calm…Peace…

She identified the boundary of his consciousness as if it was a physical object and moved towards it.

Relax…she repeated to him. Relax…

The outer, cloud-like layers of his consciousness drifted around her as she gently entered his mind, and she recognised he was in the semi-conscious state between sleep and wakefulness. His body reflexively stiffened in response to sensing another sentient in his mind. His barriers came on-line, trying to push her out. Leia soothed him, reassured him, told him she loved him, told him how much she loved him, and that she would never hurt him.

There was a small jolt and Leia could feel that Han had accepted her. It was easier than she had expected, and she hadn't needed the spice to enhance her Force abilities.

Floating on the edge of his consciousness, Leia revelled in the simple pleasure of being surrounded by Han. She sensed the familiar patterns in the Force he made and displaced, but she also became aware of the rhythm of his mind. She discerned six delineating bands of brainwaves, synchronised electrical impulses linking and cohering with each other through harmonics, as if they were musical notes in a symphony. The lower frequency waves generated a deep, penetrating drumbeat; the upper register had a high-pitched flute-like quality.

Wary of disturbing him, Leia cautiously stretched out her feelings in attempt to make sense of his brainwaves. As she focused, she perceived the flaws in the rhythm; there was a disruption to the balance, like sections of an orchestra playing out of sync with each other. The mid-frequency band appeared to be the most disruptive. Confused snatches of thought crackled past her, hurtling along synapses at furious speed. Vivid memories and emotions indiscriminately welled up; Leia could only guess what his mind would be like if he was fully awake. The idea of having to endure such turmoil, even as an observer, was unnerving.

Leia couldn't detect anything that resembled Han dreaming about being in bed with her. She gave up her half-hearted attempt to read his mind, retreated from the deeper recesses and chose to enjoy the sensation of being surrounded by him. It reminded her of their brief time together on Bespin.

The night they had spent in the opulent stateroom had been the most incredible night of her life. They had made love throughout the evening, luxuriating in the chance to be on their own after being cooped up in the Falcon with Chewbacca and Threepio for so many days. They had eaten the meal delivered to their rooms in the centre of the enormous bed, sitting naked and cross-legged across from each other. And then they had made love again. It had been obvious that they were deeply in love with each other.

The memories of that night and the passion they had shared were enough to make Leia tremble, and she sent Han a burst of happiness and desire.

Han unexpectedly stirred from her lap, breaking the link between. He shuffled on his backside to a sitting position next to her. No traces of drowsiness marred his features or movements. He lifted a hand to her face, cupped her cheek, leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss was gentle and undemanding, but his breath was short when they parted, his eyes sparkling.

Leia swivelled her knees around and leaned into him, returning the kiss but without wanting to get her hopes up. Too many occasions had started just this way and gone nowhere.

Han pulled her closer and he lowered his back to the ground, taking her with him. Leia gave herself to the moment and to Han. She ran her fingers through his hair as she splayed herself across his chest, slipped her legs on either side of his hips. His body was warm and hard beneath hers, and her heart skipped a beat when she felt the onset of his arousal against her upper thigh. Her instinct was to increase the pace, take advantage of the situation while it was there on offer. It had been such a horribly long time.

Leia ran her hand across the front of his trousers, tracing the outline of his erection as his mouth did incredible things to her ear and neck. She pushed herself up on his chest, slipped back to straddle his thighs and started work on releasing his belt buckle. His hands came down over hers as she began unfastening his trousers. Frowning, Leia raised her eyes to his. The eagerness froze in her stomach. Was that it? Over before it had begun?

Han's gentle smile was not enough to quell her disappointment. He moved her slightly but held her in his lap as he sat up and pulled her legs around his waist. He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, unhurriedly working his lips and tongue around her mouth, rekindling her desire.

She understood. He wanted to do this slowly, take their time, revel in the touch of the other like they had the first time and last time they had made love.

Leia surrendered control to Han. She relished the erotic nature of his caresses, the warmth of his mouth against her skin and the probing touch of his hands. Feeling him through the fabric of her clothes, being denied the contact of skin-on-skin, only made her want him more.

She wholeheartedly responded to his unspoken suggestions, his touch; a woman bewitched, a woman who had been waiting for this moment for an eternity. The heat of the fire fuelled her desire, heightening her senses until it felt as if she would be consumed by her need for him.

After what felt like hours of tender agony and teasing, they undressed each other. Naked, Han pulled her back against his chest and kissed her. Then he rolled her over onto the blanket and made love to her.

It was like a thermal detonator exploding. The ecstasy that shot through his system was electrifying, shattering every nerve until he was a quivering, shuddering mess.

An involuntary cry escaped his lips and he held her tighter, burrowing his body further into hers and dropping his forehead to her neck as he continued thrusting. Calves wrapped against the back of his thighs, arms encircling his back, Leia pulled him down, pressing her breasts to his chest as he supported his weight on his knees and elbows. They held each other like that, a lovers' embrace, savouring the dizzying high and the bond that they shared.

When his breath had returned, Han whispered into her neck, "I love you."

The side of her face was pressed against his hair, and she turned to kiss his ear but said nothing. He moved his head up and rubbed his cheek against hers. Her face was wet with tears. He pulled back slightly; she was crying.

Something cracked within his chest. It no longer mattered who her father was. This was Leia in his arms. A person in her own right, not defined by her parentage. How could he have ever doubted his love for this woman?

Han held her tighter and promised her would always love her. No matter what.