A.N.: Hello, again all you lovely, loyal readers! I know last chapter was kind of . . . um . . . depressing. And I mustn't tell a lie. I don't feel bad one bit! (Especially since it's going to get worse!)

This fanfic is on two sites and I've gotten loads of comments from both. So, consider this an apology to everyone from both sites who commented something along the lines of 'I hope nothing bad ever happens to Han/Leia to rip them apart' or 'I hope things work out well for them'. I'm sorry, guys. (Not really!)

Han's body weighed so much, he wasn't sure how much further he would be able to make it. The pressure weighed that heavily on him. In his gut lied a dead weight of heavy, immeasurable guilt. Fear gnawed at his stomach, curdling his insides like old, sour milk. Han felt stupid. And because of his stupidity, Han felt even more stupid. He was putting Leia in risk. Leia was in danger because of him. By merely coming to Alderaan, Han had put Leia in serious danger and now it was too late.

They'd found him.

They'd found him.

He should have been more suspicious when he'd spotted the first one. Dressed nothing like a common Alderaanian citizen nor resembling a species that inhabited Alderaan, Han should have known right then. All it had taken were two of them for Han to come to the horrible realization: Jabba's bounty hunters had found him. They were stalking him, following his every move, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on Han and deliver the death blow.

Leia was in danger.

The thought hit Han square in the chest and stole his breath away, that heavy pressure returning. Every day, he tried to spend as much time as he could with Leia. He'd often visit her in her bedroom, at the palace. Leia's home. Leia's bedroom. Where Leia often was. Han was always with her, the belle of Alderaan. The one Greedo had been sure to notice Han leaving the dance house with, escorting her to their speeder. The one Cradossk, the trandoshan, had been sure to see Han with before he'd left the Alderaanian royal palace. They'd seen Leia. They knew Han was, more often than not, with her. And Han knew she was now a target, too.

All thanks to him.

All the comm calls, the visits, the flimsis with his fingerprints on them, they could all be traced from Leia's private comm or her room . . . back to Han. Han Solo, legendary spice smuggler, Corellian outlaw. The same Han Solo Jabba had a huge bounty on. And Han didn't want to know how much Leia was worth on the black market.

But they'd found him, knew Leia . . .

Leia was in danger.

It was his fault. Again, the pain hit him and he doubled over, wincing as if the pain were physical.

He loved Leia, loved her more than anything he had, more than anyone else did. He loved her like no other love has been given. He loved her most.

But Leia was still in danger so long as Han was around.

He loved Leia. He had to keep her safe. He wasn't willing to put her at risk any longer. No, he loved her more than that. And he would prove it to her. Because Han loved her that much.

Han left Ducchi's shop in a rush, headed for the palace because he had never been any good at leaving Leia without a proper goodbye.

"A marriage alliance," Mothma smiled at the thought, her gaze turned to the table beneath her hands. "Between the two greatest kingdoms in all the galaxy. Now that is quite something, Viceroy. However did you manage?"

"Actually," the Alderaanian once-senator chuckled nervously. "I had no such plans, but rather it was a discussion on my sister Celly's behalf. I was unaware that the conversation was to take place. I don't think I would have permitted such had I known she was planning on it."

"Well, thank the stars for that. This is absolutely wonderful! Now, the Alliance has plenty of resources, weaponry, food. Everything we've been scavenging for these years."

From across the table sat Rieekan, a man Bail trusted just as much as he'd trusted Padmé, perhaps even more. The Alderaanian general didn't look very happy and Bail had to agree. As great as this was for almost everyone, it ached to think of how Leia would take it. It was not a conversation he was looking forward to. "Shouldn't Leia be the one deciding this?" Rieekan spoke up and Bail released a breath, thankful his friend had said it. "I mean, this would mostly be affecting her. How could we all know about it before her? I just don't feel good about this, Mothma."

The Chandrilan senator snapped her sharp gaze to the man, narrowing her eyes to slits. "And have you spoken to her on the matter? No? General Rieekan, how could you possibly find anything wrong in this? Leia is soon to be married to the wealthiest prince in the galaxy! Prince Isolder of the Hapes Consortium had been generous enough to have patience while Leia takes her sweet time with this, but now . . . it's official! Alderaan will become the 64th world of the Hapan Consortium and the Rebel Alliance will bear a wealth greater than we could have ever hoped for! This is what we've always wanted!"

Rieekan leaned forward in his seat, glaring heavily at Mothma. "At Leia's expense? Do you really think Leia is in love with him or do you just not care? Leia is a sweet, wonderful person and it's evil for you to use her like this. If this chance is so great, why don't you marry Isolder?"

A quiet snicker went around the room no matter how hard they tried to choke it back down. Rieekan allowed his own victorious smile to surface, swimming in pride at the stupid joke. "It isn't fair to Leia," he continued. "It isn't fair to take away her freedom without a word in her own defense. The Alliance doesn't need this. The Alliance wants this. You want this."

He loved her too much, Han decided, trying to ignore the storm within him by stuffing his mouth full with another glazed treat. The whole picnic thing had become something of a ritual and Han couldn't recall a time when he had visited Leia without bringing a basket of goodies. It was another thing Han cherished, held dear. Anyway, Han loved the princess too much and, for it, he paid in pain. He would let them have this last moment, this last memory. Share a few treats, talk and laugh, maybe exchange a last kiss. Then, it would be time to go.

When he had arrived just outside Leia's bedroom, as was only customary, Leia had been thrilled he'd come. She'd eagerly hurried to let him in before pushing him back out and insisting the night was so beautiful they just had to spend it outside. Han couldn't disagree. It really was a splendid night. Why did it have to be?

The night was cool, a breeze floating through the dark sky. While Leia had her head turned, her gaze set on the bright and shining moon, the breeze blew through her hair at just the perfect angle to create quite the scene. Looking upon her, Han knew he would never be able to even try at a relationship with another woman. No, Leia had set a standard and it hurt Han so to finally face Reality. He didn't want to move on, didn't want to forget Leia. He'd found true love only to take a dagger to the heart. The sight twisted Han's heart and he had to look away for a moment. Kriff, he didn't deserve her. And this whole approaching scenario with the bounty hunters only proved it further more. He didn't deserve her, but it was too late and Han had already fallen for her. And now, here he lay, in love and dying of it. Because he didn't deserve her. "It's getting late," he said, standing up from their picnic and reaching for his jacket. "I think I should get going."

"No!" Leia quickly objected, reaching up to catch him by his arm. "Please? Stay? It's only been a couple hours."

A couple hours too long, Han thought, suppressing the urge to fall back down at Leia's side and cry with her. She didn't know about the bounty hunters. Or, at least, that they were here. He wanted to keep it that way before she started looking for them and others got caught up in it, too. Han wouldn't let that happen. He outright refused to.

With his hands just under her armpits, Han pulled Leia up to her feet and raised her so their faces were level. Leia smiled softly at him and he offered back an even greater smile, sure to not let any of his pain show. Leia was always very perceptive and he was sure she would catch it if the slightest hint of pain flashed across his features. So, he smiled like everything was fine and crushed his lips to hers. Leia's hands came to hold the sides of Han's face and she met him with equal measure and passion. Han gave everything he had to the kiss and snaked an arm around her waist to settle on one of her hips while a shiver shot up his spine as Leia's hands crawled their way into his matted hair. Though his eyes were closed, his vision exploded as did every nerve in his body. An excited, nervous panic rose in him and was battled aside as Leia took the jump he'd never expected her to. Sweet, innocent yet sassy, respectful, polite and moral Leia, gone for a moment while she moved her mouth off of his to trail down his jaw and neck, stopping at his collarbone. Han's thrill was replaced with an astonished excitement, then depression. He didn't shatter the moment, though, comfortably ending it by lifting Leia's chin back up so he could capture her lips in one last deep kiss.

Han broke the kiss, tilting his head back and catching his breath. Leia did the same, her head slumped against Han's shoulder while her ragged breaths blew down on the thin fabric of Han's shirt, sometimes against the skin underneath. "You were right," he muttered, still holding her up in his arms. "You aren't fit to be a princess."

Leia laughed, dropping gently to the ground on her feet. Her thin and billowy dress waved in the breeze, floating around her legs while she recovered from Han's remark. She fell against Han again, her hands planted on his chest. "Was that a little quick for you, flyboy?"

"Quick?" Han smirked, wrapping his arms tight around her waist, making a firm pillow for Leia to lean against. "Sweetheart, I've been waiting for you." He leaned down to capture her lips again, backing Leia against the window. His fingers dug into Leia's shoulders and she once again took the jump to . . .

"I love you," Han managed in a somewhat drunken kind of slur. After, of course, Leia pulled back, taunting Han by flicking her tongue at him. "I know," she responded. "Want me to kiss you like that again, flyboy?"

"No," Han sadly shook his head, drawing back from her and grabbing his jacket from where it lay, forgotten on the floor. "No, Princess. I'm already drunk on love."

"Ooohh," Leia pouted, crossing her arms. "My poor flyboy. But I want to do it again."

"I don't know about that. Let's just . . . never forget this and I'll be on my way, thinking of you."

Han turned, took a deep, deep breath, and started walking away. He could hear Leia, still talking to him, laughing, joking, taunting. Fierfek, he loved her! And that's why he had to leave her now.

"I'm going to miss you, flyboy!" Leia called out to him.

" . . . I'm going to miss you too, Princess."

"I love you!"

" . . . " Han took another deep breath, collecting all the strength he had to respond before racing for the Falcon. "I know."