CHAPTER 3:
Princess Leia's large brown eyes watched the purple opaque water smooth over like Dantooine glass. She clutched the mangled handrail as her knees turned to jelly. Seconds were passing and seconds would soon be minutes, and then one minute would be two and three, and she knew no one who could hold their breath that long.
"Please…" she bit her lip to hold in her entreat.
The princess glanced over her shoulder, her eyes swimming around until she found Chewie. She cringed at the sight of the Wookiee's wound. The blaster shot that clipped him was much worse than she had initially thought, and the way he lifted that anchor with her- he doing most of the lifting—that selfless action most likely worsened the injury. Chewbacca howled and moaned as his injuries were being tended to while those tending to him gingerly wrapped his arm. Leia pushed the back of her hand to her mouth. If Chewie knew that Han went overboard, he would worsen his wound trying to save his best friend.
"Huuuckk!"
The princess flipped her attention back to the water, and a gasp of relief escaped her as she reached for the arms stretched toward her. Hands, large and strong, grabbed her arm, hands that did not belong to Han Solo but to the man Han had intended to save.
"Help!" Leia yelled as she tried to pull the man to safety. "Hang on!"
Two men came to her side and pulled the rebel onto the boat. The princess grabbed the man's shoulders as he coughed out the water caught in his lungs.
"Where's Han? Where is he?"
"I…ugk… (Cough)…I tried to help him," he panted. "His foot….ugk…got caught on…ugk, ugk…something. I tried…ugk...I…"
She wrapped her fingers around the bent railing, stood up, and glared at the water.
"Your Highness," she felt a hand on her shoulder. "He's been down there too long. I'm sorry. It's too-"
The princess sucked in a large breath, closed her eyes, and jumped feet first into the warm water. She felt so heavy and light at the same time, and she wanted nothing more than to swim back to the surface. She forced herself to open her eyes and was rewarded with the sight of Han struggling to free his foot. Leia swallowed down her fear and swam deeper until she was in reach of his leg. She pulled on his leg then tugged at the gnarled roots that held him captive. Every time she jerked one root away another took his place. All she had to do was work faster and everything would be okay.
A hand clamped around her shoulder and hauled her away from the roots. Leia's large brown eyes gazed into Han's, and he clumsily pushed her toward the surface. She vigorously shook her head, her remaining breath escaping in bubbles, but the dazed look in his eyes and his lack of strength stole away her self-control. Leia kicked her feet and parted the water with her hands until she reached the surface.
"Your Highness!"
Leia coughed, "A vibro knife…does any…one have…"
"It's too dangerous!"
"Han's still alive!" She yelled as she swam away from the boat. "Chewie!"
"No one can hold their breath—"
"I have one," someone called out.
"I'll help you!"
Leia inhaled until her lungs were filled with as much air as she could possibly hold and disappeared under the surface with the two hopeful heroes. She swam to Han and grabbed his shoulders. His hazel opened to her touch but he seemed unaware of her presence. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and pressed her mouth over his. Solo's eyes widened as her breath passed into his mouth. Leia released all of her air and paused for a moment, her hands still on his face and her large brown eyes gazing into his.
But her burning lungs forced her to break away and swim to the surface. Chewbacca greeted her with a frantic roar.
"They're trying to free him," she blurted out then audibly inhaled before she disappeared under the water.
Again, Leia wiggled and kicked her way to Han, and again she breathed out into his mouth. Han stared at her, unblinking as he accepted her breath. She pulled away then glanced down at the men fighting the ruthless roots. They too had to surface for air which slowed their progress. Her chest constricted. How much longer could all of them keep this up? Already one man replaced a tired would-be rescuer. Han couldn't last much….
With greater gusto, the princess kicked her feet as fast as she could, swallowed down a larger breath, and returned to Han. This time she tenderly took his face in her hands, gazed into his eyes, and pressed her lips to his. His mouth opened to hers and accepted her breath as he stared into her large brown eyes. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs, and her mind spun and drifted. Most likely her lightheadedness was due to lack of oxygen, but this time she denied her physical needs. She couldn't leave him.
Just when darkness began to close in upon her, the men freed Han's foot and were now pulling both of them both to the surface. Leia clung onto the collar of Solo's shirt and allowed the rebels to pull her to safety. The first thing she noticed was the briny air, and she tried to take in as much of it as she could without swallowing water. Several hands slipped around each of her arms and her waist, but she continued to hang onto Han. The princess inhaled and coughed until she cleared her air passage.
Next to her Han fought to recapture his own breath and calm his respiration. He reached out and touched her cheek, drawing her attention to him.
Leia blinked the water from her eyes and found Han inches away from her wearing his trademark lop-sided grin.
"You're right."
The princess' brow furrowed, "Right?"
He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. "Your… freckles," Han panted. "They… don't wash…off."
She lifted her hand to her cheek and gazed into Han's eyes. Though he still wore his cocky grin, his hazel eyes were clouded with fatigue and concern.
Han looked away and ordered, "Someone…get…her a…blanket."
It was then Leia realized that her hands were trembling. "I'm fine," she insisted as she let go of his shirt and dropped her hand from her face.
Solo rolled his eyes, "You're shakin'…like a Grenion…on spice."
Leia shook her head to protest but caught sight of her shivering limbs, "I'm …not cold."
"Sure you're not," Han huffed. "Where's that blanket?"
"Here!"
Someone draped a blanket around her shoulders. She really wasn't cold, but she grabbed its coarse edges without protest.
He mischievously grinned and put his mouth close to her ear, "I indisputably like this look, Your Highness."
Leia's large brown eyes flew to his, and he winked. Then Han instructed Chewbacca to escort her to her cabin. Chewie's large hand wrapped around her upper arm and he gently guided her to her feet. She looked over her shoulder as she was led away and saw Han lie down on his back while others moved in around him.
"Chewie?"
He, too, watched Han drop against the deck but the tone of his growl was soft and reassuring. She couldn't understand him and didn't believe he thought Han was okay. However, Han told Chewie to escort her to her cabin, and though she hadn't known them for long, she never witnessed a time when the Wookiee refused to do what Han wanted even when they disagreed.
When they reached the stairwell the princess stopped. She favored Chewie with a smile, "I'm fine. Go be with Han."
The Wookiee warbled, patted her head, and left her to be with his best friend. Leia leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and slowly exhaled. Han's hazel eyes stared back at her, dream-like and unwavering. She clenched her fist, remembering how the stubble on his face pricked her palms and tickled her lips. And his blue-tinged lips…
What will we do if he gets himself killed? Leia touched her own lips. What will she do if he gets himself killed?
When she reached the lumpy bed in her cabin, she sank into it and wrapped her arms around her legs, letting her forehead rest against her knees. Eight months and almost thirteen days ago, she didn't even know Han Solo. Had she not been captured by the Imperials, had she delivered the Death Star plans to the Alliance, had she brought General Kenobi back to Alderaan like she was supposed to, she would have never know Han Solo. Only eight months and not quite thirteen days had passed, and the thought of him dying…
Leia squeezed her legs tighter to her chest in an attempt to control her shivering. Her chest constricted, and to stave off the sensation of drowning she inhaled and exhaled with precise care, in then out in then out in then out…
Leia's head snapped up and her breath caught in her throat. The rhythmic respiration, cold in its cadence, did not belong to her. The blood in her veins chilled when the antiseptic stench of her cell on the Death Star burned her nostrils. I'm here. I'm safe. Was she? Leia shrunk into herself as her eyes searched the shadows.
"Hey, Your Worsh…"
The princess started and looked up to find Han standing in the stairwell. She couldn't see his face in the shadows but she could feel the awkward concern radiating from his angled posture.
"You ok?"
She released her legs and let her feet touch the cold deck. "Of course," she straightened her spine. "You?"
He took the last two steps with one stride and glanced around the small cabin, "Somethin' wrong?"
Her brow furrowed, "A…whatever that was, almost destroyed the boat and you almost drowned."
Han leaned against the doorway. "But I didn't," his eyebrows rose and fell.
Leia opened her mouth then clapped it shut, and she shook her head.
"You got Chewie all worried," he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Tell him there are more important things to worry about," she looked away.
"I dunno," he shrugged, "I don't think Chewie would see it that way."
"How's his arm?"
"He's been wounded much worse than that." Han chuckled, "He can be a real baby about these things. I think he's toughened up just to impress you."
"What's the damage?" she whispered.
Han walked deeper into the small room, "It should hold together a little longer. Beck is looking for a place to stop so we can assess the damage better. "
She nodded then looked up, "And?"
His hazel eyes glazed over for the smallest of seconds but Leia noticed.
"We lost two."
"Who?"
He paused. "Selond is dead. And Roy."
She rolled her lips between her teeth and nodded again.
"We'll hafta refigure some things but nothin' you should worry about."
"Why? Because you're in charge?"
Han smirked, "Can't think of a better reason."
Leia gaped at him. With his hands still in his pockets, he approached her. Her expression softened and she swallowed down her retort. Han stopped in front of her, forcing her to lift her chin to look up at him. Leia curled her fingers around the thin mattress but she managed to keep her mien expressionless.
"You're still wearin' your wet clothes," he picked up the discarded blanket.
She raised her right eyebrow, "So are you."
"Yeah, but I ain't shiverin'," he wrapped the blanket around her. "You're gonna catch a cold."
"But I'm not cold," she whispered.
Han's eyes widened, "You have to make an argument about everything, don't ya'?"
"I'm not arguing."
"See?"
Before she could speak, Han reached out and pushed some wet locks out of her face. "We've gotta find a different place for you to sleep tonight. Well, what's left of the night, anyway."
Her brow lowered, "I'm fine here."
"You'll be more comfortable sleeping in a dry bed," he quipped.
The princess looked down at the bed where she sat sopping wet. She pressed her lips together then turned her head to him, "I don't think I'll do much sleeping anyway."
"Well," Han sighed, "you aren't stayin' in here."
"And just where do you think I'll be staying?" Leia jutted out her chin.
"Everyone's gonna stay on the upper deck," he stared into her eyes. "If the boat sinks—"
"Okay, fine," she looked away.
"Get changed…" Solo gazed at her soggy night clothes. "Do you need somethin' dry to wear tonight?"
"No thank you."
"Okay," he nodded. "Get changed and meet me in the pilot house."
"Is that all, Captain?" she tilted her head.
"No."
"Then what?"
Han's lips stretched into a wicked smile, "I think this might be one of your better looks." He winked at her and disappeared before she had time to comprehend his words.
"That man!"
Leia rummaged through her knapsack, grabbed the first thing on top, and allowed her legs to carry her to the refresher. There she found herself staring at her reflection in the dirty looking glass. She paused for a moment then touched the tip of her fingers to the black smudges around her eyes. Her elaborate eye make-up was smeared over the painted freckles on her cheeks.
I think this might be one of your better looks…
She smoothed her fingers over her cheeks and let them trace the curve under chin then her neck. Her large brown eyes followed her fingers as they slid over her shoulder and stopped at the strap of her silk camisole. She stared at her reflection, mesmerized by the how the camisole and her thin blue shorts clung to her wet body in a way that left little room for imagination. Leia sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she studied the curvature of her body. When did her figure change from gangly angles to soft flowing curves? Was she just too busy to notice?
…one of your better looks…
She may not have noticed but Han Solo did. Leia ran her hand under her breast, across her abdomen, and along her hip. Her eyes flew to her face in the looking glass to find her cheeks flushed. She moved her hand back to her chest as if to slow the quickened beat of her heart. Han Solo noticed, which meant he looked.
I'd recognize you.
Leia slowly inhaled and exhaled, unsure of how to feel. No one else paid much mind to her physical appearance. No one else leered at her or made suggestive comments, or verbally appreciated her figure. But no one else would dare to speak or look at her the way Han Solo did. Of course, Han Solo seemed to go out of his way to push her buttons, so maybe he was just pushing her buttons. She frowned at herself. At least he made her feel less invisible.
"Hey, Your Worship!"
Leia cringed at the moniker he gave her, "What!"
"Get your royal-than-thou arse up here!"
Her large brown eyes widened and retracted, "I'll get up there when I'm damn well ready!"
"Fine!"
Leia sighed and shook her head.
"Damn well ready better be damn well soon!"
She bristled and returned to dressing, "That man."