From a Certain Point of View
"What did you mean by that?" Han whispered into the back of Leia's head as they snuggled into his bunk on the Falcon. Chewie had left and Leia convinced Han to get some rest before he began working on the sabotaged code again.
"By what?" Leia replied, her voice husky with exhaustion.
"Not in that way," Han clarified.
Leia twisted her body so they could see each other, which was no small feat in her current condition. "Could you be a little more specific, please?"
"I told you to get out of my head and you said you weren't in my head, not in that way."
"Oh, that."
Leia was now lying on her back and Han rested his hand on her protruding stomach. "Yeah, that. Whatdya mean?"
Her answer didn't come quickly and Han raised his eyes to meet hers. Finally, she said, "You think I'm using the Force to read your thoughts and I'm not. Not really."
"Then what're you doing, really?"
"I don't know," she shook her head and looked down at his hand on her stomach. As she began to trace her finger along his arm, she added, "You would know if I was using the Force to read your mind or persuade your thoughts in any way. You're anything but weak-minded."
"Then why did you tell me that I was thinking it? How did you know?"
"I don't know, I guess I am attuned to your feelings. I'm sure it is the Force but it isn't the same as when I consciously enter someone's mind; this happens at a more subconscious level. I don't know if I can control it, so…if you have a real problem with it…"
Her eyes were searching his now and he answered, "No. Okay, no, I don't have a real problem with it." He grabbed her wandering hand and held it in his own. After a moment of silence, he brought her hand up to his lips, kissed it and asked, "So is this some sort of one way street? Because that doesn't seem very fair."
She smiled as if she had just guessed a punch line to a joke. "Funny you should ask that, because I don't think it is a one way street." Completing her body roll, she turned on her side to face him, resting her head on her folded arm. "I think you're more than capable of experiencing the same thing."
"So, why ain't I?" Han shifted on his elbow, intrigued by the notion of being able to get a glimpse into Leia's thoughts.
"Well, I can only guess…but I think that you may be unknowingly preventing yourself from…capitalizing on our bond." Leia's eyes left his for a moment while she watched her finger trail a few swirls against his chest. Looking back up at him, she said, "I think you shared a similar bond with Chewie, subconsciously. If you're honest with yourself, you'll see that you had for years. It's only now that you've attached the stigma that it's a Jedi thing that you're rebelling from it. It's affected your relationship with Chewie…especially since it is something that you used to share and have now lost. It may not have affected us in the same way since it is something that we have never had and therefore can't really miss."
Han digested her words, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the conversation. Responding to her patient silence, he replied, "I'm not rebelling from anything between you and me or Chewie and me."
"Maybe not consciously, no," Leia replied, but Han noted more than a trace of skepticism.
"Well, how am I supposed to fix something that I don't even know I'm doing?" Of all the conversations he had ever had with Leia, somehow this one made him feel most vulnerable, his nerves raw from the exposure. He fought the familiar urge to run, or kiss her, and clenched his jaw as he waited for Leia to respond.
"Only you know that. But I can tell you that you're probably battling it internally under…" she held her mouth open for a moment and then released a breath and said, "Let's just say, a different label than you might think."
"What do you mean?"
"That verbally and consciously you may express your doubts about the Force, but it isn't really the Force that you have a problem with. Subconsciously the issue is labeled correctly and it is that issue that you really have to work on."
"And you think you know what this issue is?"
Leia smiled, knowingly, but she said, "I can only guess."
"But you have a good guess?"
"Yes, I do." Her smile dissipated behind a serious expression.
"Care to enlighten me?" Han's chest tightened as he felt that he knew what her answer would be. He worked on trying to place it but failed. "C'mon, just what is this invisible demon that I'm fighting subconsciously?" Han pressed, forcing a teasing smirk.
Leia looked at him for a moment and the corners of his mouth relaxed, erasing his cocky grin. Holding his gaze and then tilting her chin up slightly, she said, "Trust."
Han let the word linger in the air for a moment between them before he began to shake his head. Looking away from her, he said, "I trust Chewie with my life. I trust you."
Leia smiled and placed her hand against his cheek, her skin cool against his. The contact drew his eyes back to hers. "Your trust with Chewie was shaken when he revealed his Force sensitivity to you after hiding it for all those years, that's only natural. And I…even I can admit that I haven't given you many reasons to trust me unconditionally. I think…"
Han waited for her to finish her thought.
"I think you've been content to let my growing trust in you…be enough for both of us."
Han swallowed and before his internal filters could stop him, he said, "Why for the first time do I feel like you're being totally honest with me?"
"Maybe because, for the very first time, you're using more than just your ears to hear me."
It was the Falcon's proximity alarms that woke Han up just a few hours later. He climbed nimbly over Leia, trying not to wake her, his bones and joints creaking and protesting from the strain of movement. Standing next to the bunk, he took a moment to watch Leia stretch out into the warm space that he had just vacated, filling up his bunk as she had done his life.
He thought about the conversation they shared before they had fallen asleep and dragged his hand over his face. If he was honest with himself, he wondered just how much he really did trust her. He knew how much he ached and longed to trust her but there was a chasm of doubt that sprawled out between what he wanted and what really was.
Reluctantly, it seemed that he would have to agree with her claim that it was only her trust in him that had grown in the last few weeks. His feelings for her - the same feelings that had made him chase her half way across the galaxy - had not changed; they were as strong as they were upon his arrival. But his trust in her had not changed either, and it had arrived battered and shaken.
And then there was Chewie. Just thinking about the hours they had spent the night before working on the Falcon, hells, he knew things weren't the same between them. But wasn't he justified to be a little skeptical of both of them? Chewie, his co-pilot and best friend had hidden something so important, so…defining. While Leia had yet to find the courage to tell him that she loved him. And the only reason he felt secure that she wouldn't run away from him now was because there was currently nowhere to run.
Han turned away from the bunk and blew out a heavy breath. And then at a sudden thought, he had to laugh at his own expense. Since when had he become so judgmental? So worthy of other people's trust and love yet above reciprocating it? His smile faded quickly when he realized that he had probably patterned his entire life that way and that it was only now that it was becoming an issue.
His brain deadlocked on that thought and at another alarm from the Falcon's security, Han had to physically shake it off before he slipped on some clothes and exited the captain's cabin.
"Orren," Han called down to the older Jedi as soon as the Falcon's gangway hit the ground.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain," Orren replied cheerfully.
"Granted," Han replied and when Orren was halfway up the ramp, Han asked, "Can I interest you in a cup of kaffe?"
Several moments later, Han placed two steaming cups of kaffe down on the holochess table and sat down across from Orren. "What brings you by?"
"The Princess missed the assembly this morning." Orren took a sip of kaffe, set the cup down and added, "I was sent to check on her."
"She's not feeling well," Han answered more curtly than he intended. He wondered when he had gotten so bad at lying.
"Should we be alarmed?"
"No, no," Han shook his head and relaxed back against the seat. "She's just finding it hard to get around, you know, her ankles are swollen and her back hurts."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad that it's nothing serious." Orren's eyes looked towards the corridor that led to the captain's quarters. "Where is she now?"
"She's sleeping. That's another thing," Han added as he took a sip of kaffe. "She has trouble sleeping. Hardly slept a wink last night, as a matter of fact."
"Well, I had wanted to speak to both of you, but I don't think I should be gone any longer than necessary."
"Should I wake her?" Han asked, his thumb hitched in the direction of his cabin.
"No, no, I can run it by you, I guess."
"What is it?"
"I'm afraid the mood of the Academy has deteriorated over the last few days," Orren began, his words tumbling out of his mouth hastily. "Leia's absence at today's assembly only seemed to add fuel to the fire, so to speak."
"Fuel to what fire?" Han asked, resting his arms on the table and leaning towards Orren.
Orren looked at Han for a moment. "The fire burning through this Academy. The fire that reeks of the Dark Side," Orren replied, his eyes carefully watching Han.
Han hesitated. "What does this have to do with Leia?"
"I understand that you must be struggling to figure out who you can trust. But I'm almost positive that you and the Princess know what I'm talking about."
"Why don't you spell it out for me, just to be sure."
Orren looked nervously behind him and then back at Han. "Can you close that ramp?"
Han didn't move for a long moment, and then he stood, crossed the lounge and lifted the Falcon's gangway. "Just to let you know," Han said as he slid back into his seat, "If you were trying to be discreet, you just blew it."
"It's no matter, I'd rather be able to speak freely."
"Alright, then."
"We feel the Princess is in danger, and more specifically that her unborn child is in immediate peril."
Han sat up. "First of all, let's clarify who you mean by we."
"Roman, Seth and I. Only the three of us. We've discussed it, meditated on it and are certain that the Academy has been infiltrated by a dark presence that means to bring some sort of harm to your unborn child."
Han leaned back, his thoughts jumbled upon hearing Roman's name mentioned in the mix. He sat back and said nothing, leaving his silence as invitation for Orren to continue.
"As I said, if you are feeling the same danger, I'm sure you're both struggling to determine who to trust."
"You could say that."
"I am. And we've come to a decision, the three of us."
Han bristled at his words. He certainly didn't want to be told what to do, especially not by some puppet of Roman's. "Oh yeah. And what's that?"
"We think you should leave immediately, just you and the Princess on this ship, as soon as possible."
Han began to shake his head slowly. Internally his mind was reeling. At first he felt that Orren could be trying to flush out Han and Leia's plans for escaping by encouraging them to escape in a ship that he knew full well was incapacitated. But something else made him think that Orren, at least, was genuinely concerned for Leia's safety.
Realizing that the Jedi was waiting for an answer, Han said, "And what? Leave all of you to some dark fate?"
"If it's Leia they're after, then none of us should suffer…greatly, any way, from her departure."
"I think you're being a little naïve, especially if anyone gets wind that you helped us escape," Han replied, motioning to the recently raised gangway.
"We feel we'd fare much better in any kind of altercation if the Princess was out of harm's way."
Han drew in a deep breath and then released it slowly. Maybe it was all of Leia's talk about trust earlier that drove him to it. Maybe it was because if Orren was a part of this plot against them, then Han wouldn't be telling him anything he didn't know already. Regardless, the words began to fall out of his mouth before he had much time to contemplate it. "The Falcon's been tampered with…sabotaged," Han stated calmly. "We couldn't lift off now if we wanted to."
"Then it is as we feared," Orren whispered as he sat back against the banquette, the blood rapidly draining from his face.
Han only watched him; Orren's reaction seemed genuine.
After a long silence, Orren straightened up and asked, "Is the damage repairable?"
"I think so."
Orren wrung his hands together. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"I'm afraid time is the only thing I need."
"Well, then I guess I should leave you to it." A mask of composure seemed to slide over Orren's face as he pushed himself up to a standing position. "Please let the Princess know that she is formally excused from all further Academy obligations."
"I'll do that," Han replied, as he led Orren to the exit.
As the ramp lowered, Orren shook Han's hand and said, "May the Force be with you."
"I believe it already is," Han replied, as he watched the Jedi leave.