Many thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and/or followed this story. And, once again, many thanks to jublke for her beta reading-you make me look good!

The Graveyard

Four Years ABY

Two men and a Wookiee stood huddled together in a large clearing of the forest moon of Endor. They were watching what could have been a bad holovid drama—except that it wasn't.

"I thought they were together," Lando said in some confusion, eying the couple standing some distance away at the foot of the ship's boarding ramp. The man and woman appeared to be in the middle of a heated argument; the man waved an imperious finger under the woman's nose; she lifted her chin and folded her arms determinedly across her chest. Their voices were loud enough that it was almost possible to make out their conversation, even at 15 meters distance.

"They are. Well, Han says they are. We talked about it last night."

Chewbacca whuffed out a chortle and smacked Luke on the back hard enough to cause him to stumble forward a few steps. The look Luke shot back over his shoulder at the unrepentant Wookiee was eerily reminiscent of the kind Han used when he was particularly exasperated with his large friend. So maybe Chewie was right and it had been a little early for the What are your intentions toward my sister speech, but premature or not, Luke had been more than satisfied with Han's heartfelt answer. Yes, Luke was sure Han and Leia were together, but they did have the oddest ways of showing it.

"I know Han can be a little clueless when it comes to women," Lando observed, "but he should know, right? And Leia," he continued, "the six months Han was gone—well, I was worried about her." The solemn lines of his face smoothed into an amused smile. "Now she's as ornery as a sand panther with a hairball." He shrugged. "I guess I'm just a little surprised."

Luke nodded in agreement; they'd all been worried about the princess. For those six months, she wouldn't sleep until she was ready to drop in her tracks, and she'd barely eaten anything. But none of them had expected a screaming match eight short days after Han was back.

Well, almost none of them had. Chewbacca explained to his companions that this is what Han and Leia did; apparently screaming at each other was a sign of devotion and that he would only worry if suddenly they were very polite to each other. Chewie waved one wooly arm in their direction for emphasis, then concluded his speech with another Wookiee chuckle.

"Okay," Lando conceded, "but it sure is the weirdest thing I've ever seen."

"C'mon, Chewie!" Han's voice carried through Endor's clean forest air. "It looks like we're going." Han waved an arm at Leia's erect form as she marched up the ramp and into the Millennium Falcon. "There is no reasoning with her Worshipfulness!"

Chewbacca shrugged amiably and shuffled off after the angry couple.

The pinpoint lights of the stars stretched into white streaks as the MillenniumFalcon jumped into hyperspace. Han made one last check of the ship's course on the navicomputer before leaning back in his seat to regard Leia's stubborn face.

"I just don't see why we have to do this right now," Han began, obviously picking up where their argument had left off before they'd lifted off Endor. "It's only been what, two days? Chewie and I've barely had time to get the old girl spaceworthy again. The Alliance owes me a new sensor dish, don't forget," he continued. "I know I'm not going to get it from Lando." Han's mouth set in an irritated grimace. "I don't know why I let him get his grubby hands on her to begin with."

Leia nodded patiently while mentally tuning out Han's speech. They both knew the Millennium Falcon would get its new sensor dish as soon as it was possible to find the part; Han just needed something to grumble about.

He turned back to the viewport with a thoughtful look on his face and watched the mottled light patterns of hyperspace. Taking the cue from his friend's altered mood, Chewbacca unfolded himself from the co-pilot's seat and headed into the access tube leading to the back of the ship. Since they were missing the sensor dish, he explained, he would work on increasing the range of the remaining sensors. Leia slipped into Chewie's seat as the cockpit door slid shut behind the Wookiee.

"You could have at least waited until your arm was healed," Han said. He looked pointedly at her left arm, which was still bandaged after the battle of the bunker on Endor's moon.

"Like I keep telling everyone, it's not that bad," Leia explained, her voice tinged with irritation. She wastired of everyone making such a big deal about her arm; after all, good people had lost their lives during that battle, and all she had was a scratch.

However, when she saw the look on Han's face—so tender and concerned—she modulated her tone. After six months of not knowing whether Han was dead or alive, she couldn't help but sympathize with anyone worried about the one they loved. And since Han was the one doing the worrying…

"Really, it's just a graze," she reassured him, resting her hand on his wrist. "A little bacta salve and it's practically gone." She squeezed his arm lovingly. "Really."

After the slightest hesitation, Han took her hand. "I still think you should be resting," he said.

Leia's eyes twinkled wickedly. "You didn't think that last night," she reminded him.

"We rested last night." The crooked smile lit his features. "Eventually," he amended.

Leia grinned back. A companionable silence filled the cockpit.

"You're doing this because of him, aren't you?" Han asked into the silence.

Leia breathed out an exasperated little sigh. She hated the fact that Han always seemed to know what was going on inside her head.

"Yes, I'm doing this because of him," she replied tersely.

"You don't have to, you know. You're not him. You could never be him."

Now it was Leia's turned to stare out the canopy, watching the mosaic of lightspeed flow around the ship. "I have his blood in my veins." She shuddered. "It was better when I didn't know that. Before he was just a monster, now he's the monster who's my father."

When Leia had finally worked up the courage to tell Han just who her father—her biological sire, rather—really was, he had already worked it out for himself. It hadn't been hard. If Luke was her brother, and Darth Vader—or Anakin Skywalker, as Luke preferred—was his father, well, then, he must be Leia's father too. It wasn't that difficult a leap to make.

As his first reaction, Han had felt only cold fury. How could someone do the things Darth Vader had done—and to his own children? He'd maimed his son, callously slicing off his hand. Worse, even worse—he'd tortured Leia in the very worst way imaginable. Making her watch as her whole world was destroyed…

But it was after Leia had made her tearful, unnecessary confession to Han, telling him what she considered to be the awful truth—that was when he realized he couldn't let that heartless black monstrosity win the last hand. Leia had actually expected Han to walk away from her, to leave and never come back, because of who her parent was. As if Han would actually care about any being's past. And Leia. Leia was the strongest, most beautiful person he had ever met, and there was nothing, nothing, that would ever make him think otherwise. He would happily cut off his own hand before he would hurt her. So he told her exactly that, holding her as tightly as he could, giving her all the love he could, and wishing he could squeeze the pain right out of her.

But, of course, that wasn't possible. So now they were on their way to the Graveyard of Alderaan. Han couldn't see how that would help her, but if Leia wanted to go, they would go.

"Okay, Chewie, cut in the sublights," Han instructed. The star streams contracted to points as the Falcon slipped back into real space. As usual on these trips, Han tried to see everywhere at once as they approached the broken remains of the planet Alderaan. After four years, the debris field was becoming more stable, providing a slightly lower risk of being pummeled to death by an errant chunk of rock. But that didn't negate the other dangers that might still be lurking in the rubble, and Han wasn't about to risk danger to either Leia or his ship.

"It looks kind of crowded out here today," he observed, catching sight of one or two other ships coasting along the edge of the asteroids. Han eyed the other ships warily for a few minutes before determining they weren't a threat. He moved his hand casually away from the controls of the belly gun, and turned to face Leia, who was standing in the space just behind Chewie and himself. "Looks like some other folks decided it was a good day to celebrate," he said.

"No one's here to celebrate," Leia responded harshly.

"Hey, no offense intended, your Worship!" Han raised a hand as if to protect himself. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do know, Flyboy. No offense taken. I guess I'm still a little sensitive about coming here."

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, squeezing his shoulder gently. She could feel him stiffen a little under her touch. For all of his bravado, Han still seemed shy about these public displays of affection, even in front of as good a friend as Chewie. Leia smiled a little—he really was a big softie!

"Any particular coordinates this time?" Han asked. He craned his neck to look around through all the cockpit viewports, then checked the sensor readings on the control board. "It looks like we don't have any Imperial company this time. At least as far as I can tell without a sensor dish," he griped. Then his trademark smirk disappeared and his face grew serious. "You know that we're not free and clear, just because Palpatine's dead. Some people haven't heard, and some people won't care what they've heard." Han echoed Leia from so long ago. "It's not over yet."

"I know," she said solemnly. "Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Always."

"Okay, anywhere that's safe to stop along here is fine," Leia offered. Stop wasn't really the right word, but synchronized drifting was just too much to say. After two years of practice, Han had the combination of thrust and repulsors down to an art. He chose a hunk of rock just larger than the ship and effectively parked the Falcon in the debris field. He turned his head just in time to see Leia slip out the cockpit door.

"Chewie, keep the ship here." Han rose and headed toward the back of the ship after the princess. "I'm going to go give her Worship a hand with whatever it is she's got."

Han paused in the open hatchway as the Wookiee yowled at him.

"What?" Han turned to look at his friend. "I am being nice to her. Why would you say I'm not being nice?"

Chewbacca's barked reply didn't sit well with Han.

"What do you mean I'm clueless when it comes to females. I've known lots of women; I've made most of them pretty happy, too!" Han expostulated.

The Wookiee explained exactly what he meant, emphasized by arm waving and the occasional snarl.

Han waved his hand in front of his face. "Okay, calm down. You're getting fur all over the instruments."

Chewie just stared.

"Yeah, I know she's not like the other females I've known." An amazed smile traveled across his face. "Believe me, I know. And, yeah, I know she's had an awful lot thrown at her all at once." Han's face grew thoughtful, his eyes earnest. "I'll be gentle. I am never, ever, going to do anything to hurt her. Ever."

A whuffling laugh accompanied Chewie's reply.

"Very funny, Fuzzball. I'll get it right in less than 50 years. Trust me."

Han found Leia standing in the rear cargo hold, something in each hand. "You okay?" he asked her. "You took off pretty quick."

"I just needed time to think."

Han only nodded.

"I don't know which of these I should use," she said.

"What've you got there?" Han looked down at the items Leia held. In one hand she held a small but very sharp stone knife. What looked like a piece of animal hide was clutched in her other hand. It was decorated with polished stones.

"Hey! You get that from one of the little guys?"

"Paploo gave them to me."

"How come?" Han propped a hip on the edge of a storage barrel. He was doing his best to look nonchalant, but the sad look in Leia's eyes worried him.

"I told him why I was coming here," she explained. "He said that if I was coming to honor warriors, that I should bring these. They belonged to his friend Rawrkwil. He was one of the Ewoks killed during the fight. Threepio translated for us," she added.

Well, that explained the sad look in her eyes, at least part of it.

"Leia…"

"We brought the fight to them. They died because of us."

"The Empire brought the fight to them. They just picked which side they wanted to be on."

"They were fine until we showed up." Her words were bitter.

"Do you really think the Empire would have left them alone? The first thing they would have done when they finished that Death Star was blow up the moon."

The angry lines of Han's face actually seemed to help Leia. "You're right," she conceded. "It's just—."

Han didn't think gentle was going to work this time; he took Leia by the shoulders. "You're not him. Any more than Luke is." He reached one hand down and lifted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye. "You are not him and you never will be. Understand?"

She didn't say anything for a long minute. Then she nodded.

"Okay then." Han looked at her face, which had become so precious to him. Her eyes were big and dark and just a little watery. Well, a little gentle couldn't hurt. He kissed her, tenderly, and was only a little bit startled by the answering passion.

"I'll use both," Leia said, when she could breathe evenly again.

"Good idea." Han rummaged through a storage locker, smiling when he found another capsule.

They launched the capsules together.