From a Certain Point of View
Han shot up out of his chair and every single Jedi at the head table mirrored his movement. He noticed Chewie, back ramrod straight, remained seated. Every single eye in the room was watching him and he could only see one thing. She stood, staring at him while his blood, just remembering how to circulate, pounded in his ears.
He felt someone tugging at his hand. He heard the muffled silence of people waiting for something to happen. He heard the occasional clang of utensils and someone clearing their throat. He was unable to make sense of any of it.
"You'll get to see her," Zacari stated matter-of-factly as he pulled harder on Han's hand.
Han's eyes fell slowly down to the boy.
"They'll take you to her when it's time. She's the one that told us to expect you."
Han stood frozen, his knees locked straight, his heart pounding inside of his chest.
"It'll be better if you wait until you're invited," Zacari said softly, as if speaking to a child much younger than himself.
Han sunk heavily back down into his chair, his eyes on Leia as she turned and left the room.
It was Orren that finally approached him and led him down to an open breezeway. On their left, as they walked, was a tall stone wall curving up into an expansive rounded ceiling. On the right was a row of arches and stone pillars in a long procession, the arches leaping up toward the ceiling and the pillars piercing down to the stone floor below. They reminded Han of a series of hyperspace jumps on a space chart.
He was unable to focus on his current situation, concentrating instead of the movement of his legs as they carried him forward and the sound of his feet as they clicked against the stone floor. There were three words resounding in his mind and he felt certain that he could not think of anything else until he had said them. Each word echoed in his mind with each step, rising in a crescendo as they bounced off of the stone wall climbing to their freedom in the heavy air of Yavin Four. The three words were: Is, it, mine.
Han walked slowly with Orren beside him, the two did not speak. Lining the corridor were large, ornate stone planters brimming with lush vegetation, some of it creeping up the walls or down onto the floor as if trying to escape. Past the archways, a few steps down, was a large garden. They turned a corner and then stopped.
Leia stood on the cool, square tiles at the end of the long breezeway. She was flanked by two large humanoids that looked to be as tall as Chewbacca and as crazy as Han. Han walked forward unsure if Orren followed him or not, he came to a stop several paces away from her.
"Leave us," Leia spoke, her eyes on Han, her words directed to everyone else but him. The lines of her shoulders were sharp and she held herself sternly as if she would crumble to the ground if she relaxed.
"But, Your Highness," it was one of the tall humanoids, he tilted his head toward her when he spoke. Nobody else moved.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, in a show of patient exhaustion. "Leave us, please." When she spoke she turned to the humanoid, her tone was anything but pleading.
Not another word was spoken. The pair of humanoids walked away from Leia and towards Han. They paused, ever so slightly in front of him and then walked on. The sound of their footsteps faded behind him, and then there was nothing but the two of them and the sound of those three words echoing in his mind in time with the beating of his heart.
There was a firm breeze that whipped the edges of Leia's long cloak around her ankles, pressing it against her swollen belly. He watched as her hand landed on her stomach almost protectively. Unable to move, he watched her begin to walk toward him instead.
When she stopped a few paces away from him, he shook his head in disbelief and asked, "Is it mine?"
"You know that isn't possible, you told me so yourself."
The words hit him like a physical blow and he responded as if he had been attacked. "Is this why you left? Because you were carrying another man's child? Is that where you were going during the day?"
"Calm down, Han," she replied calmly, dismissively as if his anger was unjust or incongruent to the situation at hand, as if they were discussing a minor difference of opinion like whether or not it would rain that evening. She walked toward him, turning to stand next to him. He felt her hand slide inside of his arm, grasping him on his bicep. "Walk with me."
She led him through an archway and down three, long steps to the grounds below. He followed, passively, utilizing the time to allow his brain to catch up to itself. Han noticed immediately that they were not alone, the garden having become full of people. They walked slowly together, passing several curious onlookers as they meandered out into the garden. His mind raced, if only in circles, passing back over and over again on the question that she hadn't really answered.
Having her on his arm, holding onto him as they walked seemed incredible and surreal. He could smell her and feel her yet he felt oddly detached from all sensations that he would normally have associated with her presence. After months of longing, of visualizing their reunion, nothing could have prepared him for what he had found. Of all his thoughts of betrayal and of abandonment, everything seemed inconsequential now. The true nature of her betrayal and abandonment eclipsing anything he had dared to imagine.
During space travel, there is no up and down, there is no earth and sky. Not until you enter the atmosphere of a planet do any of those things matter. Most spacecrafts automatically "right" themselves during re-entry, but more than once in Han's experience, a ship had failed to right itself by some mechanical failure or another, leaving the pilot to struggle to find his bearings. This phenomenon could prove to be disastrous if the pilot didn't act quickly while keeping a level head, quite literally. Han decided that that's what this felt like, unable to shake the feeling that he was careening out of control towards an imminent disaster.
The garden was made up of a set of intricate paths lined with low-lying foliage and sprinkled with fountains, ponds and benches along the way, the paths crossing each other in a serpentine pattern. Leia spoke softly, "It's part of Jedi history that my father, Anakin Skywalker, was conceived without a father. That his life force was so strong that the midi-chlorians themselves saw to it that he came to be."
He understood, on some level, that she was making idle conversation in a way one does until they can find the privacy to speak what is truly on their mind. But he did not understand why she chose this particular subject. Regardless, he walked silently next to her and half-listened; it was either that or screaming, he thought.
"Of course, the Jedi Council of that time had foreseen such a prophecy, of a Jedi that would be born in such a way. Of a Jedi that would bring peace and balance to the Force. On that they all agreed." She tugged on his arm and turned him sharply to the right, down a much less worn path. "They did not agree, however, on whether or not my father was, in fact, that prophecy."
Like the serpentine path that she led him through, he followed her conversation without much interest. He didn't care where she was leading him to, he only hoped that they would be alone once they got there. He didn't understand what point she was trying to make with her story, he only wished it would answer the one question he wanted to know about. So, he kept his lips pressed together tightly and listened and followed and waited.
"Probably through some fault of my own, the way I showed up here and then…began to show, there are rumors that this child was conceived in the same way."
His arm flinched and pressed her hand up against his rib cage. He let a wave of anger wash over him and run its course down his throat, through his stomach to his thighs until it dissipated somewhere around his kneecaps. Was this her answer? Had she been so thoroughly brainwashed as to believe such nonsense?
She remained silent as they passed a group of girls seated around a stone table. After a few paces, she continued, "I tried my best to dispel the rumors, because I know that isn't what happened here."
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her free hand laid to rest on her stomach. Han breathed out.
She added, matter-of-factly, "But the rumors still persist…among some."
She turned them again towards a point in the distance where two trees had reached out to each other with their limbs and formed a natural archway. The path of the garden was lined with fallen leaves and forest needles that muted their footsteps to quiet thuds. Each time one of his feet fell upon the padded path Han heard the same words again: Is, footstep, It, footstep, Mine, footstep.
They walked underneath the natural archway and onto a well-worn forest path where the long, trodden grass slumped over as if it were bent down in worship. No longer in the manicured protection of the garden, the trees towered above them, their limbs providing a canopy from the light mist that had begun to fall from the dark, grey sky.
Forest sounds of scattering insects, the flapping of feathered wings and the song of rushing water in the distance replaced the sound of hushed conversations and bursts of laughter that had filled the garden. They were finally alone, but neither one of them spoke.
As they came upon a clearing, a lone tree stood at the end of the path, its moss-covered limbs, long and heavy with foliage, dropped to the ground and bent up toward the sky again. The forest floor was covered with the drab red, orange and brown leaves sacrificed over several subsequent seasons. A primitive table made of the same stone of the temple sat beneath the tree, two rounded benches flanking it.
Leia disengaged herself from Han's arm and walked straight to the tree. Han had to duck under several branches to follow her. A few paces before she reached the table, she spun around and looked at him, her face flushed from the long walk. He stopped and waited.
"I've been expecting you." Her hand still rested on her stomach as she spoke.
Han had to force himself to take his eyes off of her swollen belly. Fighting to control the urge to touch her, to feel what he hoped, what he knew was his child growing inside of her. Fighting the urge to shout out the three words that rallied once again to break free: Is it mine?
"Ever since I recognized Chewie." She shook her head and smiled for the first time since he had arrived. "Honestly, I've been expecting you since the day I arrived."
"Why did you leave like that, Leia?"
"There were things I had to work out. Just like I told you that morning."
"You also told me to trust you that morning. Did you know you were leaving when you kissed me goodbye?"
"No."
"Then what happened?"
"I found out-" She stopped, her eyes falling to the ground in between them. "You know what?" She looked back at him. "It doesn't matter."
"I think I can guess what you found out."
She took her hand off of her belly.
"Is it Roman's?"
Her face registered shock and her head flinched back as if she had been hit. "Is that what you think of me?"
"What do you want me to think? You disappear and I have to scour the galaxy to find you, only to find you here with him? Carrying a child that you prefer to act as if you would rather it to be anyone else's but mine."
"Fine, of course that's what you think of me." She pulled her cloak tightly around her. "You'll always wonder who I am and what I am. What this child will be. What I can turn into, what it could turn into."
Han watched her for a moment, absorbing her words. "You know what? That sounds like all the things that you're worried about."
One of her eyebrows ticked up and she pressed her lips together in a tight line.
"Is it mine?"
She shook her head at him. "Please, don't be so angry."
He took a step towards her. "Leia, you either left Coruscant knowing you were carrying my child or you left Coruscant knowing you were carrying another man's child. Which scenario would you like me to find happiness with?"
She did not respond.
"Is. It. Mine?"
She tilted her chin up in defiance and then spat the words at him. "There's no one else's it could be."
He stared at her, confused by her anger, elated by her answer, terrified by his elation and finally enraged at what it all meant. "And you left…knowing…"
She upheld her defiant demeanor and answered coldly, "I am sorry I left like I did."
"But you're not sorry you left."
She held his gaze for a long moment. A low, rolling thunder grumbled in the distance. "We should get back."
He was overcome with emotion, unsure if he should be fighting with her, shouting at her, or grabbing and shaking her until this icy façade shattered in his hands. Not knowing if he could touch her if he wanted to, knowing that he wanted to but not knowing if he should want to.
He shook his head at first, preparing to fight for more time, there was so much more to say. But then he looked at her and noticed her hair, damp and heavy pressing against her skin and he saw the slight tremble of her shoulders in the cool, evening breeze and he slowly nodded a silent consent. She began to walk back toward the path to the garden and he fell in line alongside of her.
They walked through the thick, heavy mist made of large raindrops suspended in midair. Han's clothes began to cling to him and he felt the sensation of drowning. It wasn't lack of oxygen that caused the sensation, but lack of a single free brain cell. Every one was eaten up with jumbled thoughts and violent emotions, without a single one left to help him sort the others out, put them into place and provide them direction.
Leia pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and said, "You can stay the night on the Falcon. We can talk more tomorrow. I'll make sure we have time."
He had no intention of ending their conversation here, but then he had no idea what he wanted to say. So, he said nothing.
As they approached the archway leading to the garden Han caught sight of Roman standing at the entrance as if waiting for them. His thoughts finally seemed to coalesce into one single, focused emotion: fury.
"What is he doing here?" Han asked through gritted teeth.
"You're the one that said having someone in my life that cares about me shouldn't be a complication."
Her words stung. He replied bitingly, "I did, didn't I?" And then added as they neared Roman. "Maybe that was before I knew just how complicated caring for you could be."
Leia said nothing, but kept her eyes forward as they both came to a stop in front of Roman.
"Captain Solo, always a pleasure," Roman spoke the words lightly as if they were said with a smile, but his face was hard and cold.
Han glanced at the lightsaber hitched on Roman's belt. "So, you're a Jedi now?"
"In training, yes. It's a long journey before one can answer to the title of Jedi."
"Roman was just recently tested, he didn't know before then," Leia offered, her eyes on Roman.
"How convenient," Han answered.
"Leia told me of some of your trials following your return to Coruscant. I'm sorry I had no idea you had been through so much."
"Did she tell you that we were sleeping together?"
"Han!"
"Did she tell you that that child," Han said angrily, pointing at Leia's stomach, "is something we created while you were busy not knowing you were a Jedi?"
"Han, please!"
"I don't believe Leia has named the father of her child." He took a step forward to stand next to Leia. "Regardless, we prefer to believe that this child was conceived for greatness and not by some mistake she made while she was feeling sorry for someone from her past."
Leia spun around and sidestepped in front of Roman before he finished speaking and Han left his arm hitched back as he glared over Leia's head and into Roman's eyes.
"Roman," she said sharply. "I'll be walking Captain Solo back to his ship." She never took her eyes off of Han as she spoke.
Roman's eyes fell down to look at the back of Leia's head for a long moment, his eyes on her, her eyes still on Han and Han's on Roman. Roman swallowed and said, "I would rather you didn't."
"Consider your opinion duly noted," Leia responded as she spun around to face Roman and then sidestepped around him and walked toward the forest path that lead to the clearing where the Millennium Falcon had landed.
Han watched as Leia's figure faded behind Roman's shoulder and then his eyes locked on Roman's in a deadly silence.
It was Roman who finally spoke when he said, "You should know that she will not wait for you, and that it is not safe for her to be on the grounds alone."
Han blinked and then brushed past Roman to catch up to Leia.
The rush of emotions that broke free inside of him pushed his legs faster and tightened the muscles of this throat. The countless nights he had slept alone after she left flooded past him in a haunting procession while every single word that he regretted never saying to her popped in his mind like rocks in a fire.
A desperate battle waged on inside of him with his every single step, a battle between finally saying the things that he had waited all of this time to say or flinging the angry insults that he felt she deserved to hear, an epic struggle between damnation and exaltation. A choice between confessing his feelings to the woman that had left him or chastising the traitor that he had found in her stead.
He caught sight of her walking ahead of him and he slowed his pace, his mind slowing down with the movement of his legs. There was no answer that she could give that would quench the anger inside of him for what she had done. He could not hope to understand, in the next few moments, what had driven her to it. There was nothing more to expect from any violent accusations than defensive remarks in return. His anger flickered.
The Falcon rose into view and he watched as she stopped in front of it and turned around to watch him approach. His only thought remaining as he took the last few steps to stand in front of her was that of a card table and a game of Sabacc. Han knew, as any decent gambler knows, that he would have to bet high to win high and if he wanted to walk away with the pot then he had better be prepared to leave everything on the table.
As he drew nearer to her, he reigned in his emotions. If he left this planet tomorrow without her, it would be without one single regret over the things that he did not say. Would he be swallowing his pride to say these things to her? He did not think so. He would be proud to say them. He would say them in front of everyone and anyone that would listen. Would he be embarrassed if she rejected him? He would not, although he did refuse to actually entertain that possibility.
He stopped in front of her and looked down at her. She was looking up at him obediently, like a child bravely awaiting punishment. He grabbed her at the shoulders. "Leia, I don't care who the hell your parents were or what the hell your midi-chlorian count is-"
"You say that now-"
"I'll say it for the rest of my life." The words choked out of him, he was breathing heavy and his tongue felt as if it had swollen inside of his mouth. She looked calm and beautiful and he drew his strength from her. "I love you, Leia."
He had never said those words to anyone like that before, in such an exact, fierce manner as if stating a cold, hard fact with scientific proof to back it. They had never felt so right on his lips, to his ears and in the face of the person he was staring at, even though she was shaking her head at him in denial of it. It didn't matter.
She whispered, "No."
He took a step towards her, his elbows collapsing with the diminished distance. A pressure that was pure emotion surged inside of his chest in anticipation of saying those same words again. "Yes, I love you." They sounded sweeter the second time and they rolled off his lips as if their predecessors had blazed a path for them. "How many times do I have to say it until you'll believe that it's true?"
He placed a hand on the side of her face and smiled, making light of the way her face was contorting painfully in response. He knew that he was bearing witness to her own internal battle and the rest of his anger melted at the sight of it. "Tell me and I'll do it."
Shaking her head again, she said more forcefully, "You're making a mistake."
"No. I know you're doing your best to convince me of that. But, I've made enough mistakes in my life to know one when I see one." Lowering his face down to hers he whispered, "And what's standing right in front of me, is no mistake."
Her head was shaking frantically now and her eyes shut down on heavy tears. He caught her lips with his and she jerked back and pushed him away.
"Please, Han." She stood with her hands against his chest, her straight arms in between them. She held her head steady and said, firmly, "Let's talk more tomorrow."
He shook his head repeatedly, the lightness he had been feeling becoming heavy like the damp air surrounding him. For him tomorrow was too fluid. Today, right now, was concrete. Here in the present with her standing before him, he could take anything. She could reject him all night, so long as she didn't leave him.
But he drew back and looked at her, and as he saw the sag of her shoulders, the red blotchy skin on her face and the heavy bags under her glassy eyes, he relented. "Alright." Looking out at the darkened forest, he said, "I should walk you back."
"No," she shook her head and smiled knowingly. "I'll be alright."
"No, really-"
"Come out, Jomo," Leia shouted over his shoulder, her eyes still on Han.
Han turned and watched as the Devorian slinked from behind a large tree trunk several meters away. He turned back to Leia.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a tight, pained smile.
"Tomorrow." He nodded.
Leia turned and took one step before she slowly turned back and said, "And, Han?"
"Yes?"
Her mouth opened and she hesitated. Shaking her head, she said, "It was never about you."
He shook his head, her words revealing much more than she realized. He said, "I think that's where you're wrong."
She gave him a half-smile and then turned and walked away.