18. Day 76 - Part I
Han Solo couldn't sleep. His mind was still reeling, reliving what had happened the night before.
They had slept in each other arms, though fully clothed. With a bit of surprise, he realized that it didn't matter. What did matter was that he had finally freed what he had in his heart and that she hadn't run away from it.
He loved her.
He couldn't deny it any longer.
He had lied to himself, to Chewie and to the rest of the galaxy. For many years, he had declared to anybody that would listen that he just liked her sassy wit, her spirit.
Yeah, her spirit. That too, but he had always had that terrible temptation to explore every single curve of her body, wondering how she would sound at the peak of passion, but he now knew better.
He knew now that the only thing he really wanted was to make her happy, whatever it involved. And if that meant to sleep fully clothed for an undetermined number of nights, he was ready. He'd had too many heated nights in his life to know that that was not what made two persons really close.
She had finally broken down and confessed what had really happened in the Death Star. The horrors she had lived there, the rise of the Ice Princess, her savior and her demon. It was strange, almost ironic, that things were so different than he had supposed. Darth Vader had raped her mind, not her body, at least not sexually. Twelve Hells had left its marks on her, nevertheless, even if the Imperials had thrown her in a bacta tank afterwards.
"Any time Vader went away, they came," she had almost cried. "Every time they came, I was sure they would do it. But they never..." Her head had shaken in disbelief. "Maybe they were saving it for the second round, I don't know. They... insulted me, mocked me, played with me but never touched me. But the fifth day... the fifth day..."
The shivering of her body had had nothing to do with his proximity.
"Take your time..." he had said, cuddling her, the familiar nausea settling in his stomach.
"Vader... Vader came and..." Her voice had become a mere whisper, a shadow of the woman he knew. "He was... inside my mind." The dread in her voice had been palpable, dense, and crept into his now undefended soul.
Then, like if all that were not enough, they had commited the most unforgivable of all their sins: they had forced her to watch Alderaan being obliterated.
At some point they had snuggled up on the bed together, looking for each other's warm. They stayed that way all night, just relishing each other's presence, until it was time for him to relieve Chewie.
The night had not been completely calm, though. She'd had some kind of nightmare again, making her very agitated. She had mumbled his name before he could awaken her. And Luke's too, to his dismay. The kid was never too far from her thoughts, for some mysterious reason, but he had to accept it, as he had accepted everything else about her.
This night, though, she had not asked him to stay and he had not wanted to impose himself on her. And she had not said anything about how she felt about him. Maybe going away would be a good thing. Give her some space and time to think. That's probably the best thing to do.
Princess Leia brushed methodically her hair before going to bed. The brush was Chewie's spare one, lent to her the first day of the voyage. It was the only thing that seemed to relax her lately.
She had given up the breathing exercise days ago, when she had started to dream as soon as she put her head on the pillow, anytime she tried to sleep. Even if she practiced it for more than an hour, it did not help anymore. The nightmare repeated itself over and over. Last night's details had been Han's shirt and Luke's swollen eyes.
The bunk seemed stupidly big all of a sudden. She wished she had asked Han to stay with her again, but something had stopped her when he had said goodbye for the night.
His kiss.
His goodnight kiss had been the most innocent one she had ever received from him, in perfect accordance with what had been happening along the day. She had spent most of it curled in his lap, and that had been weird, because his embrace could have been the one of a brother. It had scared her to death. Had he given up on her? She could not blame him if he had. She had never imagined that she would sleep in the same bed with Han Solo and he would not try anything.
By morning, they would be arriving to Bespin and then Han would be probably gone to pay Jabba in no time. That scared her even more than his unusual behavior. Would that be all? She missed him already and the idea of not seeing him ever again was horrifying. That was weird, how could she miss someone she had not parted with yet?
Last night he had said that he loved her, once. And then they had skimmed over the subject, or at least she had. Because she did not know how to answer that. Instead, she had told him about the Ice Princess. Maybe it was something he did not intend to say, something he had regretted as soon as it was out.
I'm so stupid, the Princess thought. Is this really the best I can do?The feeling of his hands and his lips on her skin was a burning memory that would not go away, though, no matter how hard she tried to put it aside. If she was going to be honest to herself, she had to accept that she wanted him with an intensity that frightened her.
Her body ached for him.
That was something she had read in novels that she had cataloged as totally unrealistic, believing it sincerely to be a poetic license of the authors. Those things did not happen in real life and those who believed that it did, were just romantic fools, weren't they? However, it was the only description that fitted what she felt.
Can you live with being just his lover? Can you bear to see him go away, eventually? The Ice Princess queried silently.
"I've endured worse," Leia muttered.
Restless, she paced the little cabin and still, her body ached for him.
The hatch to the cargo bay hissed open, letting in a dash of light. Out of reflex, Han Solo sat on the cot pointing his blaster in the general direction of the entrance, the covers sliding down his bare chest. It was pitch black again, but he knew somebody else was in the room.
"Who's there?"
"Just me, Han."
Leia.
What was she doing here? She had never come in here before, not once in the seventy-six days of their voyage.
He discarded the weapon, cold sweat on his back at the though of what could had happened had he shot without warning. The sound of bland steps told him that she was approaching, feeling her way in the darkness.
"Here," he guided her.
Their hands met blindly. Hers were cold and shaky.
"What's up, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling her gently down to make her seat.
"I... couldn't sleep," she said, kneeling by him. Another nightmare, probably. Han rolled onto his knees and wrapped her shoulders with his arms, dragging her near his body. "It's alright, Leia, everything is alright," he murmured in her ear.
"No, it's not..." she shook her head, burying her face in his shoulder. Something soft and silky brushed his bare skin with her movement.
Her hair. Completely unbraided.
She had to make him understand what she wanted. She had come this far, and now she could not utter the words for it.
She needed him.
She couldn't deny it any longer.
She had lied to herself, to Han and to the rest of the galaxy. It might be love, for one or both of them. It may be not. She did not know a thing about love. But she cared for him as much as she knew he did for her and wanted him to know it. And this could be her last opportunity to be with him, to show Han who she really was, beyond the Ice Princess. Who she wanted to be, for him.
Without hesitation, her arms sneaked around his neck, pulling him into a firm kiss. And when he wanted to part, she just grabbed him more tightly.
She was acting strangely. Kissing him insistently, sliding her hands down his back, running her fingers through his hair. It was almost as if she was... provoking him. He was suddenly acutely aware that he was wearing only a pair of shorts and she, barely one of his shirts. This had to be stopped before it went too far.
Her lips went up his throat, stopping at the jawbone, nibbling delicately his unshaven chin.
"Hey, whatcha doin'?" he gasped with a start. She hushed him putting her fingers on his lips. Approaching his ear, she whispered yearningly.
"I want this... I want... you."
His heart skipped a beat but when it restarted, he felt as if his blood pressure had been doubled, more or less. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. What happened to the Ice Princess, to the damaged girl he'd been caring for the last couple of months? Who was this flaming woman he had in his arms?
This was something he had imagined thousands of times, since he had met her, but never assumed it would become necessarily real. He had had short glimpses of hope, yeah, but even in the last days, when they had become closer than ever, he had come to think that maybe it would never happen. Just last night...
"Han... please..."
Her raspy voice brought him back to reality, if this was reality and not some delusion from his imagination. He wanted her so much that his head felt like spinning, everything was so confusing.
"Why now?" he asked.
"If you want it and I want it, why not?" Her voice sounded strange in the dark, and it seemed that she was determined to make him eat his own words.
"I'm goin' off to pay Jabba soon," he reasoned.
"I know." Her lips skimmed his shoulder, setting him on fire almost against his will.
"What's this then," he said, his words involuntarily tinged with sarcasm, "some goodbye present, Princess?"
"No!"She wriggled in his arms, trying to go away, but he did not release her. "Shhh, I'm sorry," he apologized into her hair. "I'm just a nerfherder."
Her breath slowed and she relaxed again. He brushed his fingers through her mane and she tilted her head, leaning into his touch.
"I... need you, Han," she whispered, kissing his palm, and he could not stand it anymore.
To hell with everything.
"I love you," he repeated and kissed Leia deeply, not giving her time to say anything else. She responded to his kiss with matching passion, all caution abandoned. It was, by far, the most beautiful feeling of his entire life, the way he had always wanted to have her. He did not care at all if she said the damned words or not. It had taken him three years to recognize it; he could give her that much too. Words were not important.
If she only wouldn't hate him in the morning, he reflected through the haze of desire that was quickly engulfing them. He had to give her a chance to rethink it; a chance for him to cool down, if that was humanly possible.
Think, Solo, think quickly. "I... I gotta go fetch somethin'... for you not..." he babbled, somewhat incoherently.
"I've got my shots right before the evacuation, Han." Her voice was clear and matter-of-factly.
"You? Why?"
The question left his mouth before he could repress it. He wanted to smack himself in the head for being so careless. It was none of his business why she had had birth control shots. Oh, maybe it was now, but that was not the way to ask it. She had not had a lover before, she had all but confessed. Or maybe had she? Or had she wanted to take one? Was she getting ready to take one? Who? Certainly not him, she had never given him the smallest sign of that before this voyage. Luke? He doubted the kid could hide something of this magnitude, should it happen.
"Mon Mothma insists in all the female personnel to take the shots, unless you specifically want a baby."
"Oh." Laserbrains.
"You?" Leia asked with some amusement in her voice.
"Should have taken one three weeks ago," he confessed somewhat embarrassed. "I don't have more onboard. I wasn't exactly planning this..." -and added quickly, the scoundrel kicking in - "...trip."
She rested her cheek on his shoulder and he felt her smile.
"What next?" The Princess asked softly.
"I'm gonna fetch something else." Time, time, need some time.
"What, flyboy?" Leia Organa slid a fingertip along his triceps. He swallowed hard.
"Something strong."
"I don't need it, Han..."
"No, you probably don't," Han Solo said sighing. "I need it."