A/N: Here it is: TSW's second sequential Drabble Collection! This week was ridiculously hard, as I'm not sure books and candles appear too often in the modern Star Wars universe. The plot is a little iffy, but they'll suffice. More importantly, they are out of the way, meaning that next week I can introduce the new, Original Character I've been planning since the beginning. Yahoo!
Thanks for reading!
TSW
XLVI. Bell.
Jingle. Tinkle. Jingle.
At first, the bell-covered harnesses on their six-legged carriage beasts were cute. But after twenty miles, they were getting on her nerves. 'Be diplomatic, Leia. Deal with it.'
Jingle. Tinkle. Jingle.
Han was oblivious. "How much longer?"
"About ten minutes," their driver chirped. Leia twitched involuntarily.
She didn't unclench her jaw until their destination was in sight: a lopsided wooden construction with vine-laced windows. The carriage stopped, and a merciful silence filled the air.
"Shall I wait here for you?" the driver asked.
"No, thank you," Leia said, before Han could answer. "We have other transportation arranged."
XLVII. Book.
She hadn't seen a book in years. In an age of data pads and computers, paper was obsolete. Books were nearly extinct, confined to dark vaults and sunless archives. They were antiques, relics of distant ages. Even as a Princess, she'd never touched one. There was something in the weight that made its contents more real, more permanent.
Their host seemed pleased with her awe. "You are impressed, milady?"
She nodded. "Yes. Very."
He smiled. "Then you will appreciate the rest of my collection."
"There are more?"
"Oh, yes, milady," he said, with a hint of pride. "There are more."
XLVIII. Candle.
The tunnel was in solid darkness except for the flickering circle of gold around the man's candle. Leia hurried to keep up with his pace, tripping over unseen roots and frequently hitting her head on the ceiling. Judging from the constant mumbled curses behind her, Han was faring no better.
The dark confines gave her the sense of entering another time. There was an ancient quality to the earth, something… deep-rooted and ancestral.
"Here we are." The candle blew out. In the momentary blackness, a door creaked open. Then a hundred torches burst to life, and she gasped in disbelief.
XLIX. Bowl.
The cavern was enormous, so vast she couldn't take it all in at once. Shelf after shelf stretched back into the shadows, each loaded with artifacts of home. A rock grew in her throat, then dissolved painfully.
"Here it is. My collection."
Han picked up a bowl and turned it over in his hands. Leia snatched it away protectively. In the flickering light, she recognized the design around its rim. She used toe eat from a bowl just like this, when she was a child. Tear began to blur its surface, and she reluctantly put it back on the shelf.
L. Blade.
"There is something in particular I wish to show you," the guide said. Leia wiped her eyes, not daring to speak. The man disappeared for a moment, then came back with a large wooden box.
"This should be familiar."
Inside the box was a long-handled knife with a blade so bright it acted as a mirror, reflecting her wide eyes. Her father's knife. "Where did you find this?"
"The Empire's plans were not secret to everyone. Things began to disappear not long before the Destruction. "
Leia gave silent thanks to the galaxy's thieves. "Thank you, sir. We'll take everything."