Chapter 12

Princess Leia decided to go through the meager information the Alliance had about the Ewoks, the sentients native to the forest moon of Endor, one more time.

They were primitive, nowhere near space technology, and that was almost all the data contained in the Old Republic file about them. Biologically, they seemed to have followed a parallel evolutionary path as the Wookiees, to whom they were not related. The Ewoks were much smaller and their culture – or the little that was known about it - was totally different. Apparently, they weren't particularly aggressive and that was probably what had saved them from total extermination by the Empire.

She had taken her boots out and sat over the bunk, taking the datapad with her. She had considered for a moment changing into something more comfortable than her combat fatigues, but finally decided that it would be too suggestive. She wasn't ready to be that suggestive... Yet.

Leia Organa stifled a yawn. It was getting late and, truth be told, she had slept next to nothing the past two nights. To keep her awake, she slipped her blaster out of the holster attached to the belt dangling from the only chair and inspected it.

Han had been working on it that same afternoon, checking every vital part of the weapon. He had even cleaned and polished it when he had reassembled the gun. If that was not a proof of Han Solo's love... But no, she did not need more proofs. They had been cumulating one upon the other since last night.

She wished she would have time tomorrow to drop at the training room and work with the blaster. She doubted it. Leaving the weapon on the quilt, she turned her attention again to the datapad. Still, sleep kept tugging at her eyelids.

Han Solo rubbed his hands on his face. Damn, he was so tired. Only ten minutes before the High Command had released him.

One might think that after a day like today, and a night like last night, he would have gone directly to the Princess' quarters.

Yet, there he was, sitting on his old bunk on the Millenium Falcon. In his mind, he reviewed the highlights of the past hours and finally his thoughts rested on his lover and his friend. Certainly, the kid had become less shy about throwing an arm around the Princess so casually in the middle of a crowd. He wondered again what other things could have changed between those two.

There had been always a friendly competition for the Princess' attentions between Luke and him. A competition in which he knew he had started way behind the wet-behind-the-ears farmboy with Jedi affectations. That knowledge had caused him to feel every once in a while that he had the right to use some less-than-fair methods to make a mark in Leia's shell. A shell that the kid seemed to be able to sidestep so easily all the time.

But no, Leia had come to him, had given herself to him freely and almost publicly, had endured Jabba's humiliations to rescue him. He, of all people, had no right to doubt her.

Luke, on the other hand, was a persistent guy. He loved him like a brother, but he would not give him a millimeter of advantage, as long as he was sure that he was making Leia happy.

Luke was young and good-looking, he'll find himself another woman. Himself at the kid's age hadn't had the slightest idea of how the perfect woman for him would be. That it would be the exasperating, stubborn, sexy, young, snoring Princess that had been sleeping at his side last night. Yeah, she was young too. But she was mature beyond her years, sometimes even more than him.

Last night, he had been pretty sure she was happy, he remembered with a smirk. And this afternoon. Keep up the good work, Solo, he encouraged himself. Tonight would be no different.

He rubbed his chin again, deciding that he should shave again first.

Han Solo walked purposefully along the corridor that led to Leia Organa's cabin. Once he reached the correct hatch, his hand closed in a loose fist and he raised it to knock on the smooth surface.

Suddenly he remembered. Don't knock, she had said. Grinning devilishly and imagining a dozen different interesting situations he could surprise her in, he palmed the door open. The first thing he saw upon entering was the barrel of a blaster pointed exactly between his eyes, though.

Slowly, he raised his hands.

"Leia, it's me," he said softly.

The Princess was kneeling over her bunk, her back seeking the cover of the angle between walls, both hands gripping the blaster shakily, lips tight and nostrils flaring.

He had never seen such a look of hate and fear coming from her eyes.

"It's me, Leia" he repeated, trying to convey all his love in those brief words.

Her eyes dilated all of a sudden and she dropped the gun. "Oh, Goddess!" She cried, covering her face with her hands.

In less than a second, he was at her side, drawing her into his arms. He rocked her like child, her breath coming out ragged and shallow. "I'm so sorry," she whispered once and again as she buried her face in the curve of his neck.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he asked, cradling her jaw and wiping a lonely tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Nothing happened, you hear me? Nothing happened!"

She shook her head. "I almost... I was dreaming," the Princess confessed. "The Death Star..."

"It's alright, sweetheart. Nothing happened," he repeated, holding her more tightly.

Luke Skywalker coughed after choking on his beer. The Rogues had sequestered him, insisting that he had to drink something with them. Everything was fine and he had been having a real good time with them, until he felt the cold running down his spine and every hair of his body stood.

Leia - was his first thought.

But the sensation did not come back. It was surely nothing; she was probably sleeping peacefully right now. He would ask her in the morning. Meanwhile, he raised his shields a little more.

"This is some date..." Leia Organa complained. She was still sitting in his lap, arms draped around each other, her head resting on his shoulder.

"It's not that bad," Han reassured her. "At least nobody's interrupted so far..."

The Princess smiled feebly. "True. Wait until we try to do something interruptible."

"Oh, yeah?" He chuckled. "You planning to do interruptible things?"

The heat on his shoulder was the best reward for his teasing. He loved it. "We got to lay some ground rules first," he added.

"Ground rules?"

"Yep. First of all, no weapons in bed,"

She remained silent for a moment. "Agreed."

"Second of all, I'll knock next time I come into your room."

"There's no need..." She complained, totally embarrassed now.

"Yes, there is, Princess, if I want to live to see another day," he joked – more or less. "You're dangerous even without guns, you know... Specially for my poor old heart," Han added smiling lopsidedly.

Decades later, their kids would wonder why their father had to announce himself so vociferously every time he got home.

"Right," she acknowledged, not noticing at first his double entendre. But then she added flirtatiously, changing effectively the mood. "Too late to go to the observation deck, isn't it?" That was the place in the cruiser couples usually went for a quiet time.

Han caught her drift in stride. "Extremely late. Wouldn't be proper, you being a Princess and all... So, what you wanna do?" He drawled.

She feigned to think of it. "Do you want some Freyin's?"

The Corellian nodded and the Princess stood up to pour the cold wine in two glasses she had provided along with it. Sitting again on the bunk, she offered the bubbling liquid to him.

"What do we toast to?" the Corellian asked.

Leia locked her warm eyes in his. "The newest general in the Alliance?"

He flashed a lopsided grin. "And the most gorgeous Princess in it," he added, touching his glass to hers.

They drank in silence, lost in their thoughts. At last, he motioned slowly towards her, took the glass from her hand, put it away and finally captured her lips in a kiss. It went on, and on, slow and deep, so new and ancient at the same time, so unexpected and desired.

As they pulled back, she noticed that Han's fingers were plucking one of the pins that kept her hair up. "You don't have to do this," she told him. "I'll go to the fresher, it'll be a minute..."

"You know," he declared, ignoring her squirming and going for a second pin at the same time that he nuzzled her throat. "I never really got the chance to undress you..."

"My clothes are so plain," she argued as she started to feel her hair come loose. Her finger came to trace his wrists and his forearms while he kept undoing her braids.

"It's not the clothes, sweetheart, believe me," he laughed. The pins were growing into a considerable pile on her pillow. "Anyway, what happened with the undergarments I gave you last year?"

"Burned them," she confessed with a grimace.

"So that was the smell! Mean, ungrateful Princess!" He tickled her and she fell backwards on the mattress in her attempt to escape, sending pins flying in every direction. He pinned her down, taking advantage of her change in orientation.

"What about Jabba's bikini?" He asked once their laughter receded. "Am I going to see it one day?"

It was a wicked smirk what accompanied her answer now. "Spaced it."

Han Solo raised a brow and leaned closer to her. "Do you have something against sexy undergarments, your Highness?" He asked throatily.

"No, but I like to chose them myself," she breathed against his lips. And that was the last she said for a while.

"A lingerie shop will be our first stop when we get to a civilized planet, Princess," he affirmed before kissing her again.

Carbon-freeze... Vader... Boba Fett... No, not him again... Damn, Lando! Chewie... Don't Chewie... Take care... The Princess... Leia, forgive me.

Then there were lips over his, her lips in a searing, burning, desperate kiss that obliterated everything except the love he felt for her. However, they were cruelly separated and he felt cold, so cold... He looked into her eyes, waiting for the darkness that would come, the darkness that always came.

And then her lips moved, and she talked.

"I love you," she said.

Han Solo awoke shivering, covered in cold sweat. He gasped for air, and felt around for something to anchor him. He found the best thing he could have ever asked for: the warm and welcoming body of sleeping Leia Organa.

Her arms instinctively tightened around his waist and her cheek rubbed on his chest. She never really woke up and he was grateful for that.

What's wrong with you, Solo? He asked himself. You've been given the position the Imperials denied you, you have friends, you have something to fight for, you have the woman of your dreams in your arms... What else do you want? Why are you so desperate to hear those words that you have to dream about them? They mean nothing! This is real, her skin on your skin is real, the smile on her face is real. The rest is smoke in the wind. Go back to sleep and forget this.

So he did.

Later, Han awoke again and this time he realized that he was alone in the bunk. It took his sleepy brain a few seconds to remember what she had told him before falling asleep. She was going to have breakfast with Luke because he had something important to tell her. Sure.

Turning the reading light on, he realized that her boots were still where they had been last night. That meant that she was still in the fresher. That gave him an idea.

Luke Skywalker waited before Leia Organa's office with a tray with breakfast for two. He was not sure whether he should make her eat before telling what he had to tell her or not. She was strong, though. The strongest person he had ever met, and that included two Jedi Masters.

He knocked, but nobody answered. After a few more unsuccessful tries, he found it very strange. Sending a thin probing tendril through the Force and into the room behind the door, he realized that she was not there. Odd, he had thought that he was late.

Fifteen minutes later, he followed the trail that her... essence, for lack of a more accurate word, left in the Force. It guided him two levels down, towards the young officer's quarters.

Han Solo finished toweling his hair and proceeded to slip again into his clothes. To follow the Princess into the shower had been his best idea in ages. Now he was ready to defeat the Empire all by himself. He had left her there to finish her feminine ministrations, though.

He was buttoning his trousers when he heard a faint tapping on the main hatch.

"Leia, are you there?" Luke asked, knocking softly on the Princess door.

Nobody answered.

"Leia!" He pounded a little harder. He was starting to get concerned; she was never late for anything. He was about to send another probing tendril when the hatch opened.

A bare-chested, bare-footed, wet-haired Han Solo stood on the other side.

"'Morning, kid!" He said with a killing smile.

Sweeping the tray from his hands, the Corellian added genially. "How nice of you! I'll tell Leia you dropped by. See you in the hangar at 1000."

With that, the hatch closed again.

The young Jedi's face turned a deep crimson.