From a Certain Point of View
Han stood in the back of the room while over a dozen Jedi elders discussed the missing transport. It had been three weeks since his arrival on Yavin 4. The mass recruitment of Force sensitives had slowed down, but a bi-weekly shuttle of supplies and new recruits had been expected and was now a week late.
Everything had been perfectly normal these last few weeks. There had been no attacks or threats or even nightmares. Han had begun to hope that there was nothing to worry about, but all it took was one look at Leia's face when she was relaxed and not working to hide her fears, to convince him differently.
The sense that something was about to happen had begun to spread amongst the Jedi even before the transport had failed to arrive. They had discussed it as a group, they had meditated on it but the deep-seated terror nestled inside each person differently. No one enemy or event could be pinpointed or shared and the apprehension grew, feeding off of itself, its long tendrils coiling through every facet of every day in a nebulous form that could not be addressed because it was impossible to define.
"The supplies are not the real issue. We are more than capable of living off of the land," one of them had stated calmly.
Their words echoed off of the stone walls and made even the calmest voices sound panicked. They were all huddled around a single table, leaving the remaining chairs scattered throughout the room like a silent audience of unwanted guests. The large room that could hold the entire population of the Academy swallowed the small faction of senior members, heightening the sense of secrecy.
To Han, each empty chair seemed to represent the danger that hid behind the nothingness, the nameless, faceless fear that was bearing down on him and Leia and their unborn child. He, Leia and Chewie were no closer to identifying the enemy than they had been when he arrived. Time was quickly becoming their enemy turning what had once been hastily derived plans of escape to be used only as a last resort to very real possibilities.
He studied the faces of the elders. Behind any one of them could very well be the crux holding up this house of cards. Each face was like the white stone of the temple, however, void of any hint or trace of its origin, they were polished down to perfection.
"Yes, the real issue is why has the shuttle failed to arrive? Perhaps there is a matter of galactic significance that has prevented them from fulfilling their commitment." This came from a female member of the group.
Although the capability was available, the Jedi had refrained from planetary communications in an effort to keep the Academy's location hidden. The Falcon, however, could take a quick jump out into hyperspace and find out what was going on. Or better yet, go all the way to Coruscant and get Leia to a medical facility. Han knew that he was only invited because his ship was now a very precious commodity. But he sat back and watched and waited, refraining from any comment. It wasn't as if he wasn't going to do whatever he wanted to with his ship anyway.
Just over a week ago, during a heated discussion between the two, Leia had finally agreed that she would leave the planet with Han and Chewie on the Falcon if no other opportunity presented itself. She had hung her hopes on the arriving transport. Her plan was for the Falcon to leave when the transport arrived, allowing a means of escape or transportation for anyone they were leaving behind if things went awry.
The failure of the transport to arrive had provided Han with all the ammunition he thought he needed to convince Leia to leave. However, that same event had seemed to prove to Leia that they needed to stay. She was convinced that their leaving would be the catalyst to whatever events that were meant to unfold. For reasons all too well-known to Han, she refused to be responsible for anyone else's death or suffering.
"There is also the matter of the Princess," Roman said coolly.
Han shifted on his feet.
"Yes, her physician was to be on the missing shuttle to escort her highness back to Coruscant," Seth added.
"I can escort her highness back to Coruscant and find out what's going on with your missing shuttle," Han offered.
"Yes, Captain Solo, we realize that that is rapidly becoming a very real possibility. We are, however, hesitant to send you out into a situation which may put you and the Princess in more danger than if you were to just remain here," Orren countered.
"I can handle any situation that arises."
"None of us are going to allow Leia to be exposed to unnecessary risks at the hands of your overconfidence," Roman replied sternly.
Han pushed himself away from the wall that he had been leaning on. He despised Roman's use of Leia's given name. Standing erect he replied, his eyes only on Roman, "And nobody here is going to stop me from getting Leia and our child the medical attention they require." Han gained a certain sense of satisfaction whenever he got a chance to remind Roman who the father of Leia's child was.
"If the transport does not arrive by week's end, I will be accompanying Captain Solo to Coruscant. And I don't expect my decision to be questioned by any one of you," Leia replied, the sharp edge of her words cutting through the tension in the room. Her eyes had remained centered on Han.
"I agree," Seth replied. "Although we would be more than capable of delivering a baby here, we are not equipped for any complications that may arise, as Dr. Vail had alluded to on his last visit."
Seth's words caused the hair on Han's neck to prickle. He looked at Leia to find her looking at him with an expression that begged him to wait for an explanation. He took a heavy breath, leaned his body back against the wall behind him and waited, responding to her unspoken plea.
Leia had continued with her Jedi training, although it had been greatly curtailed. That combined with Han's empty appointment book had afforded the pair endless hours to while away together over the past three weeks and they had all but recaptured the ease of the relationship that they had been cultivating on Coruscant.
Han was often commandeered to assist Leia with her meditation exercises. They were meant to help her find her center, to relax her and allow her to think more clearly - transforming her thoughts from destructive to constructive and granting her inner peace and balance. Meditations were what sharpened a Jedi's focus, level-headedness and ability to rise above the typical pitfalls experienced during times of emotional upheaval and confrontation.
Han had but to simply sit with her and hold her hands as she leaned against him and concentrated on her breathing. She would talk him through the exercise with her and she claimed that his mere presence soothed her. Quite often afterwards, and then at times like these when he was so easily cajoled by a single look from her, he wondered just who was benefiting from those exercise sessions more.
Three hours and sixty-five arguments about interstellar communications and Force visions later, Han and Leia were walking slowly back to the Falcon. He was accustomed to scaling back his lengthy strides when walking with her, but her current state had made her pace all but excruciating to the long-legged Corellian. He held her hand not entirely out of love and protection but as a tether to prevent him from inadvertently leaving her behind.
He did not broach the subject that they both knew was on the table. He walked slowly next to her and patiently waited for her to speak. In the halls of the temple and even in the clearing surrounding it, they felt exposed and ill-at-ease. As soon as they entered the forest path, however, as if the cover of the trees was an extension of the home they had made in the forest, the two relaxed. Han let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulder.
Leia began to speak. Her words were short and choppy not out of any emotional turmoil, but because she was already out of breath. "Dr. Vail had some concerns around my ability to carry the baby to full term and thought perhaps I might require a surgical delivery, due to my size and frame."
"And when were you going to tell me this?" Han kept his arm wrapped around her and his tone even.
"Honestly, I hadn't thought of it. He assured me that I would be perfectly fine until at least thirty weeks."
"And now you're thirty-one and just agreed to wait until you were thirty-two to finally leave."
"I'll be fine-"
He stopped walking and utilized his arm to spin her towards him saying, "No. No, Leia you won't be fine if you go into labor and don't have the means to deliver surgically. You and the baby could die as a result of that scenario."
Her face hardened. "Since when are you an obstetrician?"
"Don't," he pointed his finger at her. "Don't get all defensive on me. You know that it only proves that you know that I'm right."
She narrowed her eyes at him and as her face relaxed in admission, his did the same.
Han dropped his hand and leaned back casually. "Besides, I've been doing a little research on…babies and stuff." Han cursed the rush of blood that he felt tinting his face.
"Oh, babies and stuff," Leia repeated in amusement, pouncing on his obvious embarrassment. "Well, then you are nearly an obstetrician, I mean with having grasped that kind of medical terminology so easily."
He shook his head at her and crossed his arms against his chest. "Do you know how lucky you are that I love you?"
He had said it lightly and had meant it in the same witty spirit of their argument, but the words fell like heavy stones between them. He hadn't told her that he loved her since those first nights after his arrival and although they never spoke of it, it was quite obvious that she had never returned those same sentiments in kind, at least not verbally.
He watched as her expression slipped into one of fear and embarrassment. His instincts told him to crack a joke and change the subject, but he fought them and pressed on. "What's the matter? You do know that I love you, right?" He thought maybe the more he said it and the more she heard it, the less she would be afraid of it.
She nodded her head and he felt compelled to let her off of the hook. Whatever it was that she feared, he knew in his heart that it wasn't him. It wasn't the man that she snuggled up to every evening and woke up next to each morning, but the abstract definition of love that had been shattered in a viewport in front of her eyes. He was willing to help her put those pieces back together, no matter how long it took.
Bending down to kiss her on the forehead he said, "C'mon, let's get you some lunch."
"Han," she said, as if his name expressed everything she couldn't. The funny thing was that it did, his name on her lips, the expression on her face, the absolute love in her eyes that required no words to put a name to it.
He shook his head slowly and smiled at her and then drew her to him and kissed her deeply.
"You know this kind of thing is what I regret the most," Leia said, her words drawled out in an exaggerated display of contentment.
Han looked at her. She sat on a large, flat rock that jutted out over a small stream. Her bare legs dangled off the side and her feet disappeared underneath the cool, murky water. She held herself, leaning back on straightened arms behind her. She had dropped her head back and closed her eyes, giving the sunshine full access to her face.
"Whatdya mean?" Han sat on the bank propped up against a small tree. His legs were outstretched, his pants rolled up to his knees and his bare feet, crossed at the ankles, were resting upon the rock where Leia sat. If he stretched his feet he could've touched her with his toes.
She pulled her head back upright slowly, rolling it along her shoulder as she sat up with a groan. She began to rub her lower back and Han took his cue. Joining her on the rock, he rubbed her lower back for a moment before scooting up to sit behind her, his legs on either side of her and his feet joining hers in the water. She leaned into him, his body supporting her weight.
She sighed and said, "For all the traveling I've done. For all the planets that I have visited. The oceans and mountains and deserts that I've seen. I never got to enjoy them. Never took the time to walk barefoot on a sandy beach, to splash in the waves, or to stand on the summit of a mountain and just…enjoy the view."
"I've got to say I'm probably just as guilty of that."
She relaxed her head back onto his shoulder, he could see that she had closed her eyes again. "I could describe the interior of every conference room from here to the Unknown Regions."
"Ask me and Chewie about any cantina," Han said with a smile as he turned his head and kissed her on the temple.
"I never saw a forest, but raw materials. Never architecture but infrastructure instead. The only reason I know for certain that ocean water is cold is because the factories I visited used it for cooling water."
"I would've thought that you'd of had more free time than that. At least when you were younger."
"How much younger, Han? You met me when I was eighteen." She kept her eyes closed as if the words she had just said weren't as sad as they were.
It still struck him, how young she was when they met. How much life she had lived, or more appropriately endured, in such a short span of time. "As a child, I mean," Han stated, giving no specific age to the word and intentionally ignoring the fact that he would view most eighteen-year olds as children.
"I might've," she answered absently. "Had it not been for the Rebellion. Even though I was not involved as a child, my father was so entrenched in it that any typical family life was…out of the question." She paused and then said, "My mother…she lived the life that…that you probably imagine of a Princess."
Han knew that she spoke of her mother on Alderaan but wondered how she compartmentalized the two of them in her own thoughts.
She opened her eyes and lifted her head slightly, looking off to the forest on the other side of the stream. "If there's one thing I wish for our baby, it's that she'll be able to enjoy…"
Her words cut off and her head fell down slightly. Han could see that she was looking at her stomach, watching her hand caress it with small, delicate circles. The end of the week had come and gone and the shuttle, or any word of it, had still not arrived. Leia was now thirty-two weeks and with each passing day she became more and more anxious and withdrawn. They were to meet with the Council of Elders the next day to discuss their departure.
"She will, sweetheart. I promise you that," Han answered her as his hand joined hers on top of her belly.
She had told him that they were having a girl - a daughter - one night while huddled together in their bunk on the Falcon. He had thought that the pressure for him to protect Leia and their unborn child could not bear any heavier on him until that night. Ridiculous and archaic or not, a daughter to Han, was an entirely different smashball game.
'There's no difference between a baby girl and a baby boy, Han,' she had said laughing at his outlandish assertions.
He argued only half-heartedly with her, in a half-joking manner. But he had not been half-hearted or half-joking at all. Oh, he would certainly protect a baby boy just as fiercely, but his daughter. For his Princess, he had already mapped out her entire life the minute Leia whispered the words: She's a girl.
His daughter would want for nothing; his daughter would never know what it meant to have a tear stream down her cheek, she would know no fear because she would meet no monsters. His daughter would believe that the stars in the sky turned on and off for her amusement and her amusement alone. She would not live a single day for any other purpose than for her sole enjoyment. He also harbored some very specific details surrounding boys and dating and marriage, but he refrained from sharing them with Leia.
"You know it's not that I don't think I could lead the Jedi Council," Leia stated, in one of her now infamous topic changes.
"I know, sweetheart," he answered her, his voice soothing. He recalled her violent admission that night of his arrival. It's not that they hadn't discussed it since then, but they had never specifically named it either.
"I know I'm more than capable of studying and learning the Force. I just can't force myself to see that future for me."
If anything good had come out of the past few weeks of uncertainty and fear it was that Han had recognized a change in Leia concerning her destiny. She seemed less willing to accept blindly a fate that she felt did not belong to her. When he arrived she felt strangled by the responsibility of establishing the Jedi Council, lately she seemed able to separate her fate from the fate of it.
She was able to visualize both coming into fruition together without the sacrifice of either but through the realization of each. The specifics of this newfound revelation still remained unclear which frustrated her, afraid to abandon a path which she was already half way down for an uncertain alternative that refused to take shape in her mind's eye.
"What future can you see?"
"You know it's not like a holofilm, it's just an idea."
"I know, just gimme the gist of it."
She smiled. To Han it was only the movement of her cheek toward her eye as he watched her from the side, but he could see her smile as clear as day. "I still see myself in the political arena. I can't picture myself tied to one planet, though. Like Yavin to lead the council, or Coruscant, even. I see beaches and mountains and forests, actually. That's what made me think of it."
Han had wanted to ask if she saw him, but he didn't. "Maybe you'll continue to recruit. Travel the galaxy that way."
"No," she pulled one of her legs up and propped her foot up on the rock, the fabric of her dress falling into the crook of her hip, exposing the better part of her thigh. "I am a Jedi, but it's not my life."
He ran his hand along the smooth skin of her leg. He found it hard to concentrate while he did so. "Well, we just have to trust that everything's going to work out as it should." His voice was thick and his words drawn out against his will. She often told him that he was easier to read than a picto-book and he had given up trying to argue.
She scoffed. "That is so not a Han Solo thing to say." She was shaking her head as it rested against his shoulder, but she looked ahead and not at him.
"Oh yeah? Then just what would Han Solo say?" He was nibbling on her ear now and his hand was following the fabric of her dress as it crept up her thigh. He had little idea of what they were talking about anymore.
She tilted her head to the side, granting his mouth full access, she spoke as if his actions had no effect on her. Han knew that it was a talent that she could draw on for only so long. "Oh, something along the lines of blasting the krith out of here, flipping my nose to the krethin' council and the godsdamn New Republic and…wearing very little clothing for the rest of my life."
Han absolutely loved the clothing part; it couldn't have sounded sweeter if he had thought of that himself. "Man, who is this guy?" He teased back, trailing his lips down the line of her neck. "He sounds like a real piece-a-work."
As Han's hand became more focused on the exploration of her body, Leia's ability to feign disinterest crumbled. Han heard a giggle mixed inside of a moan as the sunlight faded behind the afternoon clouds.
Han stood in the back of the council room the next day, his arms crossed against his chest and his lips pressed together tightly. He had promised Leia that he would refrain from arguing with the Elders and that he would let her do the talking. He was still of the opinion that they should steal away in the middle of the night but Leia, although she didn't totally dismiss the possibility, still felt compelled to trust the Elders.
By the end of the meeting Leia had agreed to not only take a half dozen Jedi along with them but also to wait five more days before they departed. It took all he had to walk out of that room without uttering a single word in protest. But there had been a look, a single, solitary glance that he had received from Leia mid-way through the conversation that had held him to his promise, unfortunately it had also scared the bantha crap out of him.
They were barely to the forest path, Han nearly running to keep up with her when she started speaking, "Get word to Chewie. We're leaving tonight."
"Wait a minute. What happened in there?"
"I don't know."
"Leia." He hadn't touched her or grabbed her, but his voice alone stopped her and she whirled around to face him.
"It's time, Han. We have to get off of this planet or…at least make our move," she shook her head and raised her arms up in exhaustion as she added, "It's time to set everything in motion, whatever it is that has to happen. I can feel it. That's all I know." She started walking again, this time a bit slower. "We can't wait another five days."
"Is it the baby?"
"No."
She answered him quickly which usually meant she was being totally honest. His confidence grew; he could handle everything a lot better if he wasn't worrying about her going into labor.
But then his confidence quickly deflated as she added softly, "Not in the way that you mean."
Han stopped walking, parts of her words clicking into place in his mind. He said calmly, his voice low, "You don't think we'll get off the planet."
Leia stopped but didn't turn to face him. He saw her head drop down and he walked towards her, grabbing her at the shoulders and spinning her around to face him.
She kept her head down and he spoke to her, a mixture of a command and a plea in his words. "Tell me."
She was shaking her head as she brought her face up to meet his. "It's my fault."
"What?"
"We should've left weeks ago. We should've left when you first arrived."
He shook his head in return, trying to understand her.
"We only made it worse by staying…worse for me."
"Why?"
She rested her hand on her belly and said, "Because they don't need me anymore."
Han sat in his pilot's chair with Leia seated behind him in the navigator's seat. They watched as Chewie emerged from the forest path and disappeared under the Falcon's hull. Everything had gone as planned so far. Han waited until the indicator light flashed that the gangway had been raised and secured. They had agreed to wait to warm up the Falcon until Chewie was aboard so as not to raise suspicion by turning her engines on too early.
Han started with the sublight engines, it was not the normal startup sequence but it wouldn't hurt anything and the sublights took longer to warm up, were quieter than the repulsorlifts and would attract less attention. But by the time Chewie ducked into the cockpit and slid into his co-pilot's chair, Han already knew that something was terribly wrong.