15. Day 57

She was running through a jungle. She was sure it was night and yet she could see her way through it. The place had an eerie look, though. Everything was tinged not in the natural greens and grays of a swamp but in artificial red.

She ran and ran, dodging tress and jumping over emerging roots and rocks. The soil was damp and sticky, and slippery at the same time. She turned her head left and right, looking for something, someone, she did not know, but she had lost something and she could not find it.

Then she saw him, standing still, tall and dark across a clearance. She stopped and observed her enemy and knew that she hated him more than ever. Darth Vader looked back at her, without saying a word.

The Sith then turned around and left the place. She wanted to follow him, tried to lift her boots from the mud but she could not. She was rooted to the ground and he had done something awful to Luke...

A strange sound, like a woman or a child crying filled the air and Princess Leia awakened with a start, trembling with rage.

Don't let him control you, Organa... He's not here... And Luke is safe, I'm sure he is... Think of something happier... Han... Yeah, think of Han...

The morning after the medal ceremony in Yavin came to her mind. She had looked for him because of something she promptly forgot when she saw him, his bare back glistening with sweat and shining in the sun as he worked on something on the outside of the Falcon. Han had turned to her when she called his name, roguish grin rushing to his face, eyes the same color of the luxurious jungle around them. She had stopped dead on her tracks, surprised and disconcerted. Weren't his eyes brown yesterday? He had laughed at her visible confusion and she had answered with an acid remark about his ship. Then the first of hundreds of verbal battles happened, to the amusement of the Rebels passing by.

Nevertheless, tonight she imagined another ending to that encounter.

Her focus was so intense that soon she saw only Han's smiling face in her mind, his warm eyes, his sensuous lips, his hard shoulders, his arms wrapping her tightly, his hands, his hands on her...

In the dark, she blushed furiously, realizing that she was shaking for a totally different reason than anger against a Sith Lord.

Since sleeping was evidently not an option, she got up early and decided to start breakfast. Han was usually the early bird, something he probably caught from Carida, but in truth, after more than fifty days in space with almost nothing to do, everyone's sleeping habits were scrambled.

Nevertheless, her thoughts could not be diverted so easily. What am I doing? She though angrily. Using him to keep other things out of her mind? That was not fair. What would Han say about it? Hey, at least lemme share the fun... Yeah. She could even imagine the mischievous wink and that brought a sudden smile to her face.

Alright. Caf. She measured carefully the spoons of grounded beans and water to brew three cups. The stuff was getting scarce and they had agreed in limit themselves to one cup each every day, so they wouldn't go without before arriving at Bespin. She pressed the button and the appliance begun to hum.

She liked to be around him, that was for sure. And he was so changed lately. Mmm, no, that was not true. He hadn't changed at all. She was the one that had changed. Changed the way she saw him, the way she looked at him. Obviously, she had always known that he was not only the rough smuggler he pretended to be. Her father had taught her well to take into account what people actually did, not what they claimed they did. That was what had always infuriated her about him, besides his scoundrel's freshness, that he acted and talked so differently and never acknowledged the difference.

Bread. Four slices, into the toaster. There was not much to accompany it at this point, but it was getting dry anyway.

The way he had opened to her, although it was something she had been waiting for a long time, had moved her so much she could not even start to express it. And he seemed so happy after that. Of course, not everything she had in those files was true, and she trusted him in that, so they had spent at least a couple of days comparing notes.

Now, where was that thing Han loved for breakfast? She had seen the package in the cupboard a few days ago; it could not have been gone so fast. Maybe the top shelf?

She had had a good laugh when she had discovered what the yellowish mud he had for breakfast was. He had become pretty offended then but now it wasn't that funny anymore. He hadn't had a proper childhood and therefore a few extravagances could be overlooked. She could almost picture him, skinny-legged and big-eyed, pretending to be an adult. No, no scar. That had come later. The tenderness spreading suddenly through her was so intense that she didn't want anything but hug him until he suffocated.

With a sigh, Leia appraised the distance between her and the top shelf. Hmm, that was a problem.

Han Solo watched Princess Leia roam around the lounge looking for something that was not screwed to the deck. He had seen her studying the cupboard and had stopped, still unseen, curious about what she was planning. Besides, she didn't like to be surprised.

She hadn't found anything mobile of the right height and sturdiness so she was going back to the kitchenette. There, she stood examining the situation again for a few seconds and then, with an agile movement she placed a knee and both hands on the counter and lifted herself up. Once both knees were up, she started to detach the safety net that prevented the things on the top shelf to fly by themselves in inappropriate moments.

It was then that Han remembered what had happened the last time that he had undone that net. With a muffled Watch out! he rushed to her side, but it was too late. A canister had already popped out.

Leia Organa turned her face to where Han's voice was coming from, but her opposite hand flew down to her side, halting the fledgling flask midways in its way to oblivion.

"Good reflexes," he praised her, helping her down. She threw her arms around his neck, canister still in hand, and kissed him. "Good morning," she breathed against his lips.

"They're good indeed," he laughed, plastering himself to her. But she pushed him away, directing him to take a seat.

"Stay there," she ordered.

"Why?"

"I'm doing breakfast today."

He simulated a heart attack and she stuck out her tongue to him, in a completely not princess-like way. Then he started to push some buttons in the panel behind him.

"What are you doing there?" She asked, intrigued.

"Recording it for posterity. Luke's never gonna believe me."

"How many bets are there between you and Luke about me?" she asked, slapping his shoulder playfully.

But the second time she lifted her hand to smack him, he caught her wrist and pulled her to him.

With a feline movement, he settled her with her back on the bench and was leaning over her, kissing her with intensity almost impossible to reject.

She knew it then. She knew with pristine clarity where they were heading, sooner or later. Where she wanted to go with him. But she also knew that it was not going to be now. Not while they were still so confused. Everything was still too vague between Han and her. She had a Rebellion to lead and he had to go pay Jabba. He was a free bird and she could not bind him to her while she wasn't free herself to commit to him.

Maybe when he came back, if he came back. Maybe.

Nonsense.

What would they be then? Solo's new girl? The Princess's lover? What else? They had never talked about what would happen once they arrived to Bespin and right now, her imagination could not see beyond his bed.

And sadly, that was not enough.

She hated herself for that, for not feeling free to give herself to him, but she couldn't help being who she was. She was the last princess of Alderaan and she could not follow her impulses at will, or could she?

More than that, she still was not sure about how Han felt about her. He cared about her, he had said that more than once and she knew it to be real. But was he thinking about some kind of commitment or was he planning to keep it casual? She dared not to ask. She was scared of the answer, whatever it would be.

And evidently, if she could think so coolly while being kissed like this by the sexiest scoundrel in this part of the galaxy something was very wrong with her. But then she noticed that even if her mind was cool, her body wasn't and was acting by its own will. It was like if she was observing herself, themselves, from an external point of view.

That kind of dissociation had happened to her once before. In the Death Star. She had snapped out of her body to avoid feeling what was happening to it. Alderaan's destruction had triggered that reaction again and she had remained for a long time afterwards in that safe place where she could feel nothing and keep herself under control. The connection had never been totally restored and that had been the origin of the Ice Princess. Only this time, she actually wanted to feel it and not just to observe. She needed more time to achieve that, though. She needed a truce with the Ice Princess.

"Han," she moaned, when he momentarily liberated her mouth to gasp for air, pushing him gently away.

He seemed to realize then what he was doing, where his hands were. He retired them as quickly as if what he was touching was on fire. And maybe it was. At least she hadn't kneeled him in some sensitive place, he though, philosophically. So he took no offense in her gesture. He was a little confused, though, because he could have sworn she was enjoying and actively participating in it, but he knew he couldn't rush it. He had promised patience, to her and to himself, and patient he would be.

Get yourselves a room, a very annoyed Chewbacca growled between entering and exiting the lounge.

"Must I really erase it?" Han asked innocently to a deathly-embarrassed Leia.