This chapter has been giving me trouble to upload, hope it works!
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Nestled in Han's embrace, Leia found that she couldn't exorcise his words from her mind.
'You're the one who made a choice.'
He saw it as a choice. She saw it as an obligation.
Regardless of what it actually was, it was becoming more and more difficult to imagine life without Han. She had no idea what she was missing in her life before him. How was she going to go through with this wedding?
Being with Han every day and night was now routine. Soon, he would abruptly be gone and it felt impossible to fathom. She pressed her ear to his chest, felt the soothing beats of his heart pumping the blood through his body, the slow rise and fall of the steady rhythm of his sleeping breath.
Another man would be in his place. A man that she had no desire to share this intimacy with. The thought made her slightly ill, chest tight, stomach tipping in protest. In the past, picturing Benny brought feelings of fondness and gentle affection. Now, the thought of him made her feel despondent, resistive, and resentful.
It wasn't his fault. Leia knew this. She had chosen this path before she had the chance to realize she didn't want it, that she might want more for her personal life. She had agreed to it. It wasn't fair for her to place her regrets on him. Her brain knew this…but, her heart couldn't quite comprehend it.
And Han…she was going to hurt him deeply. That was her biggest regret and it cut her to the bone. She wished she had been able to summon the strength to keep her distance, to not make this harder than it had been before this fateful trip. But Han was like his own celestial body, capturing her in his atmosphere and beckoning her into his core.
She saw it every time the topic of feelings came up…the pain in his eyes. She knew she should avoid it, but in the moment, emotions rising to the surface, the pressure built up until she could contain it no longer. She was in love with him. So very, deeply in love. Every nerve in her body screamed it.
Did he love her in return? It appeared as if he did, but without him saying the words, she could never be sure. Leia completely understood why he wouldn't…but she still ached to hear them.
Benny claimed to love her…but, truly, he didn't know her anymore. She was lightyears away from the girl she had been. What could they possibly share at this point? She had no interest in a life similar to what she had formerly lived, with fancy meals and clothes, balls and pretenses. And what could she talk about with him? How to charge a blast rifle? Ship repairs? Hand to hand combat? They might both die of boredom.
Leia snuggled more thoroughly into Han's arms, wanting to immerse herself in him. This felt like where she belonged. His arms felt like home. The home she had been unwittingly searching for since hers had been destroyed. Her entire life she had considered home to be a place. Now, she realized that it was a feeling, one you could carry around with you wherever you went. And Han was that feeling for her.
In the not-too-distant future, she would be living, at least part-time, with Benny, in something akin to a palace. Could that ever be home for her? It didn't seem likely.
Regrets…she had so many of them. They began with her mission to retrieve the Death Star plans.
Those events led to meeting Han, which she could not regret. But she wished she had the sense to turn down Benny's proposal, to realize that she might someday want real love. She has found that love with Han, that passion-driven, all-consuming love that bound her spirit to his. Love she had never truly believed in before Han.
Of course, there remained the debt that continued to hunt Han down. He had managed to allude that bounty hunter on Ord Mantell, but when might his luck run out if he didn't make good on that situation now?
Then, there was the fact that Han might tire of hanging around with the Rebels. On Ord Mantell, he had decided to stay, but how long might that last? When would he grow tired of sticking around just for her?
Of course, he had remained for three years already. That had to mean something.
There were no guarantees with Han, but it was a risk that she desperately wished she could take.
It hit her again that the point was moot, and despair swirled inside her, an ache that seemed to suck her down to depths of endless sorrow.
The dark of night fueled her thoughts and it was a long time before she slept.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
She was piloting a fighter, but she was clearly within the atmosphere, as nebulous, orange clouds surrounded her, obscuring her vision. In the cockpit, she felt oddly claustrophobic, a feeling she normally did not suffer from. Why did it seem as if the interior of the fighter was shrinking around her?!
She needed to reach space, to flee this planet…what planet was it again? She couldn't recall. Why couldn't she remember what planet she was leaving? Hadn't she just been down there?
She couldn't remember what the threat was either. Only that she needed to get away. But she couldn't figure out which way to go…the orange clouds obscured her vision.
The instruments! Why wasn't she using the ship's instruments? Her fingers flew to the controls and she pressed the buttons over and over…but nothing. Why were they dead? She examined the controls and nothing was lit up, everything appeared to be dead. How could she be flying if the control panel was dead?!
Looking around beneath the helmet, the cockpit seemed smaller yet again, as if it were closing in on her. Out the viewport, she still only saw billows of orange.
Illumination caught her attention and she saw that the lights on the panel were now glowing. Were all the lights supposed to be orange? That didn't seem right.
One finger jabbed at the button to turn on the scopes and appraise her surroundings, and…nothing.
Panic was stealing her breath. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she opened them again, she knew what she should do. Han! Why hadn't she thought to contact Han?
She activated the comm system and pressed the button.
"Millennium Falcon, this is…" What was her ship's designation? Why couldn't she remember? "This is Leia Organa. Han, do you copy?" She released the button but received only static as a reply. "Luke Skywalker." She tried again. "Luke Skywalker, this is Leia Organa. Do you copy?" Still nothing.
She was flying blind, with no idea where she was or what she was doing…she was going to get herself killed! Now, she was breathing too quickly and her faceplate was fogging up. She swiped a hand across it before realizing the mist was on the inside. After a few measured breaths, the transparisteel was clear again.
Scanning the cockpit again, the ship's transparisteel canopy seemed closer to her faceplate. Think, Leia! she told herself urgently. What options did she have?
A sound fought its way into her awareness…almost a slow leak, a hissing noise. What was that? Where was it coming from?
She saw it then…an orange mist seeping into the cockpit. Was that coming from the clouds? Or was that some sort of new weapon the Imperials had concocted, a poison of some sort?
The orange fog was filling the cockpit, becoming dense and heavy. She didn't think her helmet could protect her from something deadly.
Gripped by sheer terror, she realized suddenly that she didn't know where Han was. He had disappeared! When had she last seen him? She couldn't remember!
Had the bounty hunter gotten him? No! She had to find him! But now, she could see nothing within the cockpit…there was only this blinding, orange haze!
All of a sudden, she couldn't breathe at all, was choking on orange fog…Help! her mind screamed in desperation. Someone, help me! I have to save Han!
There was no one and nothing…her air was gone, she couldn't breathe, couldn't think!
It's not real, something whispered in the recesses of her mind. Wake up, you dolt! You're dreaming!
She struggled towards the surface…was this a dream? Her mind swam…swam…something was tugging at her…
Her eyes burst open, and it took the longest moment for Leia to orient herself in the darkness. Heart hammering wildly, eyes blinking rapidly, she remained utterly still, afraid to move, certain that there must be a hidden threat.
The Falcon…Han's cabin…that's where she was.
Her head turned to find Han facing away from her, laying on his side. Too many emotions gushed through her at the sight of him and she realized he was safe…they were both safe.
Trying to banish feelings of terror, she rolled to her side and pressed herself against him, one arm slinging across his torso. Cheek tight against his back, she breathed in his comforting scent. Her eyes remained open, grounding her in reality. Deep breaths began to guide her back to normal.
This was the second nightmare now where she was searching for Han. She sighed, heart still aflutter. Well, it made sense. She was losing him at the end of this trip. Normally, knowing the reason behind her dream made her feel better, more in control. This time, it only replaced her fear with sadness.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Han awoke to find Leia gone. He lay quietly for several minutes, a bad feeling persisting. He stretched mightily before finally rising. Throwing on his sleep shorts and a shirt with short sleeves, he used the refresher then made his way to the galley.
Leia sat at the counter, sipping kaffe, expression sober and thoughtful. She had not noticed him, so he stood in the doorway and watched her a moment.
So beautiful, delicate…clad in his huge, white shirt, one shoulder peeked out from the garment, revealing smooth, porcelain skin. Her hair was down, his personal preference, flowing in waves past her waist. Her dark, smoky eyes looked heavy with thought and, as he watched, one finger raised to her mouth and she placed the tip between her teeth as she stared down into her mug. A deep ache lodged in his chest. It amazed him how she could somehow look angelic yet incredibly sexy at the same time.
"Good morning," he finally said in a husky voice.
Her head rose and turned quickly. "Good morning." She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.
"You been up a while?" He moved from the doorway and sat on the stool next to hers, taking one hand in his.
Her eyes lowered. "A little while."
He searched her serious expression, trying to decide what might be wrong. "Nightmare?" he guessed.
Her eyes remained downcast, staring at their joined hands, but she nodded slightly. He gave her fingers a brief squeeze.
"Death Star?"
She shook her head but still did not look at him.
"What was it about?"
Leia bit her lip. "I'd rather not talk about it."
He examined her for a moment. "You okay?"
She finally looked up at him and forced a smile. "I'm okay."
He knew she was lying so he simply took her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms. She fit so perfectly, it was hard to believe there would soon be a time when she would never reside in his embrace again. He sighed internally. "Well, if you change your mind…"
"Thank you," she said beneath his chin. "But, I'm all right. It was just a silly dream." She was suddenly dismissive and stepped away from him to climb back onto her stool.
It surprised Han a bit but he said nothing, only grabbed a mug from the cabinet and programmed the kaffe maker. When his kaffe was ready, he returned to sit on the stool beside hers. A glance at Leia showed her sitting stiffly. Han struggled to break the sudden tension.
"On Corellia, they say dreams are other people's thoughts of you." He sipped from the steaming mug as she frowned up at him.
"So, if you dream someone is chasing you that means someone is after you?"
He shrugged. "Not necessarily. But it's supposed to be someone's positive or negative thoughts about you. So, like a good dream means someone is thinking good things about you. And a bad dream means someone's thinking bad thoughts about you."
"Hm." She sniffed delicately. "I suppose Vader's been damning me to hell since the Death Star."
He squirmed internally, his intentions having gone awry. "Well, there are lots of theories about dreams."
"True." They both drank from their mugs at the same time. "On Alderaan, some said dreams were echoes of your past life."
A short bark of laughter escaped him. "I must've had one fucked up past life." He grinned.
She finally gave a small smile. "Are your dreams that…strange?"
He was glad to see her returning to normal. "They usually don't make a lotta sense." Then again, he dismissed them pretty quickly upon waking.
"What's the last dream you remember having?"
Han thought about it. Typically, he wouldn't indulge in such silliness but it seemed to be distracting her from her worries. "I don't really remember. One dream I've had a lot is that I'm piloting a ship and suddenly I realize the ship's gone and I'm just hurtling through space."
Her brow rose. "Just your body? By yourself?"
"Yep. And I can't figure out what happened to the ship or how I got there, and I kinda can't remember if I'd had a ship to begin with."
"Do you have a spacesuit? Or oxygen?"
He hadn't expected questions. His eyes drew to the ceiling as he thought back. "I dunno. I know I've thought about how can I be breathing in space, so maybe not."
"That's interesting. And this is a recurring dream?" Her eyes seemed to be examining him. For what, he did not know.
"Yeah."
"For how long?"
He felt himself bristle. "I dunno. Probably since I was a kid."
"Have you ever thought about what it might mean?"
"No." He was unable to keep the sharpness from his voice and he saw the moment it hit her. She sat up a bit straighter and took another sip of kaffe, averting her eyes. Feeling contrite, he softened his tone. "So, do you believe the past life thing?"
She swallowed thoughtfully. "No. Too many of my dreams seem based in this life."
"So, what's your theory on dreams?"
She sighed into her mug and her voice grew quiet. "I don't know…sometimes they seem prophetic."
"Really?" Surprise was evident in his voice.
She nodded but appeared chagrined.
"Why do you think that?"
Seeming hesitant, she almost closed into herself for a moment then took a breath. "I had a few dreams when I was a child…about things that eventually happened. It was unnerving, to say the least."
Han wanted to scoff at such nonsense, but she seemed so serious. "Tell me about it." He drank more kaffe.
Still reluctant, Leia nervously twirled a strand of long hair. It always made him smile to see the normally confident, unshakable Princess feeling diffident. And it made him feel somehow privileged that he was the one person she allowed to see past her almost impenetrable walls.
"When I was a girl, I had this dream…" Her gaze was troubled and far away. "I dreamed that my father was going on a diplomatic mission and his ship exploded soon after take-off." She shuddered slightly and her eyes met Han's. "Somehow, I knew it was going to happen. I was sure of it. I don't know how I knew but I just did."
Normally, he would roll his eyes. But, something in her voice sent a tiny shiver up his spine.
"I begged my father not to go. I pleaded and cried and he thought I was being dramatic. After several days of this, he finally decided to indulge me and have the mechanics look over the Tantive IV." Her expression grew even graver. "They found that the coolant line on the hyperdrive motivator and the temperature gauge were both broken." She let out a deep, halting breath. "The hyperdrive would have overheated and the ship would have blown," she finished quietly.
He felt all the hairs on his arms stand on end. Struggling for words, his lips parted into a small circle but he could summon no response. Leia was staring at him expectantly.
"What'd your dad say?" he finally asked.
"He was surprised. My mother was unnerved. They both dismissed it in the end. But it always nagged at me."
Chewie swept into the galley with a roar of greeting to Han. He guessed the Wookiee must have been up long before him.
"What do Wookiees say about dreams?" he asked.
He bellowed in confusion.
"We were talking about what our cultures say about dreams. Like, what they mean and stuff. What do Wookiees think about it?"
Through a string of barks and growls, Chewie replied.
From the corner of his eye, Han saw Leia look at him in question. She had probably only understood a few of the Shyriiwook words. "He said they believe dreams're the stories of their ancestors." He had never thought about it before, but it was interesting the way various cultures had differing explanations.
Her head turned back to the Wookiee. "Do you believe that?"
He gave a gruff shrug and replied that maybe dreams did not mean anything then retrieved a large cup and filled it with water.
Han smiled with one side of his mouth, thinking that perhaps he had rubbed off a bit on his friend.
Leia faced Chewie as he drained his cup in one, very long swallow. "Do you think dreams ever show the future?"
He put his cup on the counter and regarded her thoughtfully. His grumbled reply was again lost on her and she looked to Han to translate.
"He said he only ever heard the Jedi had dreams of the future." Han rolled his eyes in silent response to that.
Leia's head tipped curiously. "Really? I didn't know that. Very interesting."
Han leaned back against the counter, arms draping behind him. "So, what other dreams about the future have you had?"
Chewie turned to her and whined inquisitively.
Leia's lips pursed in thought. "Once, my aunt had misplaced a piece of jewelry that was very dear to her. She spent days looking for it. It had belonged to her mother, my grandmother, and had been passed down through generations. She was distraught by the loss."
Han tried to picture Leia with this extended family but found it difficult to imagine anything other than the solitary, young woman he now knew. It was sad, really, how much her sorrow and loneliness had become a part of her.
Her gaze drew inward. "I had a dream one night…a lythka deer was leading me through a forest. We came to my aunt's home and I followed the lythka to the lake out back. He pranced in a circle around this one spot on the ground that glowed brightly. I couldn't see what was making it glow, but when I woke up, I knew where the lost bracelet was."
Chewie softly growled the question on Han's lips and Leia looked at him.
"First, I had to convince my family that I knew where it was. No one believed me…except for my father. He seemed disturbed by it, but he insisted I should be allowed to look for it."
"So, what happened?" Han asked, now curious.
"My Aunt took me to her home and I found it right away. She was so grateful, she didn't even question how I knew where to find it."
"How'd it end up there?"
"She had taken my cousins for a picnic by the lake and hadn't remembered that it was the last place she'd had the bracelet." She shook her head with a small, affectionate smile. "The older she got, the more forgetful she became. It used to worry us."
Silence eased between the trio as they all became lost in their own thoughts for several moments.
"So," Han boomed, disrupting the quiet. "You have any of those future predicting dreams these days?" He crossed his arms over his chest expectantly.
Her eyes flew to his, suddenly troubled. "I certainly hope not."
A sliver of anxiety trickled through Han, but he shoved it aside. Trying to remove the worry from her gaze, Han returned to her family. "Did your parents or your aunts ever talk to you about your dreams?"
She shook her head seriously. "No. I think it spooked them a bit. And my aunts were excellent at avoiding difficult topics. Queens of denial, we used to call them." She smiled again, gaze focused inward. "Yet, they were so focused on whatever they deemed important."
"Like what?" Han noticed that Chewbacca was still watching her with interest.
"Making me into a proper princess. That seemed to be more of a priority to them than it was to my parents."
Han grinned at the thought of her resistance, which he could only imagine as considerable.
"They felt I should focus all of my energy on my obligations as future queen," she continued. "They tried to discourage my interest in the Senate. All that mattered to them was that they groom me in their image of what a princess should be and that I find a proper husband."
As soon as the words left her mouth, she seemed to realize what she had said and her eyes were on Han's, soft and apologetic, mouth open as if she were about to suck the words back in.
They hit him like a blow to the stomach, a rush of hurt followed by burgeoning anger. He felt his eyes grow smaller, his jaw harden.
"Well, Your Worship," he said, low and harsh. "Looks like they got their wish." Before she could gather conciliatory words that he did not wish to hear, he stormed from the galley.