A/N: Thank you, DiplomaticPrincess and CaptainNinapants for beta reading this beast!
CW for some violence and mentions of sex trafficking.
Just think about the next thing. Get the starters, and by the time the drop is done, Carlist will have gotten back with more news.
The next thing.
The next thing.
Just the next thing.
Leia had to make a concerted effort to think of anything other than the discovered Saijo outpost and They're dead. They're dead. They're dead. There had been no update from General Rieekan, though she imagined, if nothing else, she would be up half the night communicating with High Command. She hoped that, if there had been casualties, surely Carlist would have said something, but that was the exact sort of information she knew she would never share with someone in the middle of a mission, and she doubted Carlist would, either.
She attempted to focus on the upcoming meeting with Lloy. He had the cold-resistant starters, the very pieces of equipment that would allow their speeders to work consistently even in Hoth's harsher temperatures. The long-awaited parts would push the base one step closer to being fully operational, and she needed the base to be fully operational. It was the only thing she could do anything about.
Leia kept close to Han as they made their way to the cantina LLoy had directed them to. He had apparently changed their meeting location at the last minute, something that had happened only one other time in the months they had been working with him. Han had assured Leia that, despite the fact that they had managed to avoid the situation, it wasn't uncommon in his experience for Lloy to need to swap locations with little notice.
The new meeting spot — a grungy cantina they had been to twice — required a longer walk than they had originally planned, but Leia honestly didn't mind. It was a familiar route — all of Lloy's territory was at this point — and having a chance to move kept her mind on the mission.
Savroia wasn't what Leia thought of as a quiet city; it housed several casinos, all of which seemed to do well. She and Han had ventured into the district housing the casinos a couple of times, and the city streets had been bustling with activity. Lloy stayed on the side of town farthest from the casinos, though, and that section of Savroia…Well, Leia had come to the conclusion after their first visit that no one ended up there on accident.
The street they walked down seemed mostly deserted. At least half of the businesses had closed for good, their structures neglected and rotting. An apartment building with covered windows and a gaping hole where a door had once been hinted at a time when this side of town might have been home to more than the few who owned the run-down establishments still operating there. Now, the area was all but abandoned during the day.
Leia kept her hand planted on Han's back as they made their way into the dingy, nameless cantina that Lloy had directed them to. The other hand, she kept a mere centim or two from her blaster just in case. The planet, city, and route were familiar, but they weren't free of danger. The last thing she wanted was to be caught off-guard.
The cantina was empty save for the ancient Aqualish tending bar. Leia watched the door to the building while Han ordered a couple of weak ales that would remain untouched as soon as they sat down.
They settled into a booth, Han's arm draped around Leia's shoulders. It was nice, she thought, to be affectionate in public, even if public here was just one old bartender. She wondered what it would feel like if the development in their relationship became common knowledge amongst Alliance members — if she would feel free to show Han affection in front of others, or if she would always feel a bit of scrutiny from those around her, the way she had growing up in the public eye.
"Think they'll head to Echo early, or try to touch down somewhere else?" Han asked in a low voice.
So much for focusing on the next thing.
Leia shook her head. They still weren't entirely sure of the balance that would need to be struck with the Echo Base climate control as more and more warm bodies were added to the glacier. The intent was to move an outpost at a time and take at least a week to evaluate each new addition. The Saijo outpost was the first on the list to migrate over, but those plans assumed that most systems would be up and running, which still wasn't the case.
"Not unless Carlist needed to change our plans last-minute. We could probably make it work, but there are better options."
"I'm sure we'll hear somethin' before we leave," Han said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Leia nodded, shoving away the pounding drum of They're dead. They're dead. They're dead. that seemed determined to monopolize her thoughts. She glanced at her comm, hoping to see an update, but there was nothing new.
Focus, Organa. Lloy would arrive soon, they'd give him the list of what needed to be delivered along with the starters, then they'd get back to the Falcon, and hopefully find out more from Carlist or Command. Lloy was always able to deliver what he had available quickly. She only needed to focus on the task at hand for a few hours.
Leia picked up Han's hand and traced a line on his palm with her finger, trying to keep her mind in the cantina and in the moment. He folded his fingers over hers playfully, capturing her hand in his. She looked up at him and smiled before brushing his lips with hers.
"This is cozy."
Leia and Han snapped to attention as a woman slid into the booth across from them. Scrawny was the first word that came to Leia's mind as she took in a body made up of sinewy muscles born of too much physical labor and too few nutritious meals. Her auburn hair was pulled back tight, and sunburned skin stretched across the bridge of her nose. Leia noticed her lips were cracked and chapped, and she had a wild look in her eyes.
Han appeared to recognize her immediately.
"Fi," he said tersely. He tilted his head slightly toward the woman in acknowledgment and tightened his arm around Leia. "What the hell are you doin' here?"
"Solo," the woman said with a sly grin. "I could ask you the same thing."
Han stared at her, jaw set, and said nothing.
"Don't worry; I took the liberty of meeting with the manager of this fine establishment before you showed up. You can speak freely. No one will listen in or bother us."
The statement felt like a threat, a blatant assurance that there were no witnesses to whatever the woman had planned. Leia glanced around and saw that the lone being tending bar had indeed disappeared.
Her eyes darted between Han and the woman, trying to place her. Leia had no memory of her face or voice, but Han's grip on her shoulder felt familiar. He was on-edge, anxious, and likely looking for an escape route.
The woman scowled almost theatrically. "Solo, you're being rude, not introducing your friends." She looked directly at Leia, her grin a little too big. "Fiona Whint. And you're Leia Organa."
Leia raised her eyebrows slightly. "Who?"
Fiona smirked. "Oh, Princess, you can do better than that, surely."
Han stared at Fiona, his tone flat and laced with irritation. "Whint here works for Jabba. One of the worst bounty hunters he has access to."
Fiona bared her teeth at him in an expression that fell somewhere between smile and snarl. "The Chiss is dead, in case you were wondering."
Leia's stomach dropped. Lloy—Lloy is dead?
Fiona focused sharp eyes on Leia, smirking. "Did you know their blood is red?" she continued, sounding mildly amused. "Just like us humans. Could've sworn I'd heard it was a different color entirely."
Leia's nostrils flared and she breathed shallowly. Everything in her wanted to scream. Lloy was dead. Lloy was dead, and the woman in front of them was all but taking responsibility for his death. Lloy was dead, and they had no way to get the kriffing starters if he was gone.
No starters meant base operations would be delayed.
No starters meant…meant…
Leia gritted her teeth, anger mingled with sadness for Lloy twisting her heart.
Han didn't appear to react directly to the bounty hunter's taunts, but he pulled Leia closer to his side. "Whaddya want, Whint?" he asked, voice oozing with vitriol.
She scoffed softly, a smile playing on her lips. "No need for hostility. You should just be glad I found you before any of the others here did."
Something about the way the woman clearly enjoyed toying with them tried Leia's remaining patience. The way she all but begged one of them to ask why they should be glad when she'd so cavalierly upended their entire mission caused barely contained rage to boil in her belly.
Leia stared stonily at Fiona. Her twitchy movements and apparent amusement didn't fit with the idea Leia had of bounty hunters; she had imagined someone calmer. Fiona seemed too chatty, too obvious, an attribute which couldn't possibly lend itself to bringing in many marks. Han was nervous, though, which was enough to put Leia on high alert.
After an excruciatingly long silence, Han finally forced an unpleasant smile at Fiona and said, "Why's that?" while gesturing emphatically with his free hand. Leia felt the hand on her shoulder drop to her waist right as he spoke, and realized he was attempting to distract while giving himself easier access to her weapon.
Fiona tapped her chin with her index finger and shot Han a wily smile. "Jabba's looking to supplement his collection with your princess here. Word around Mos Espa is whoever brings her in gets first visit. Not really my thing, but you know how motivating some of the others find that sort of—Solo, if you move another centim, I will shoot her through the gut."
Han froze. He had barely touched Leia's hip, had barely had time for his fingers to brush against the grip of her blaster, but Fiona had apparently noticed.
"Now, I would like it very much if you'd both set your weapons on the table."
Glancing at Leia, Han retrieved his blaster and placed it on the table in front of him. Fiona gave Leia an encouraging smile.
The rage coursing through Leia's veins drowned out the momentary jolt of surprise she felt when Han had surrendered his weapon. The vague sense that she should feel more afraid passed through her mind; Fiona had a blaster pointed directly at her under the table, after all. But Fiona, Leia realized after half a second of thought, was bluffing. If Jabba actually had any interest in Leia in the way Fiona claimed, it sounded as if she'd be no good to him dead, and if Fiona wanted Han to go quietly — if she wanted to guarantee his much higher live bounty — killing Leia would ruin any chance of that happening.
The woman had disrupted their attempts at procuring the starters, at getting Echo Base up and running. She had murdered a major supplier for the Alliance, a friend of Han's. She wouldn't be taking Han, too.
Leia leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving the bounty hunter. Han pulled her closer to him again, a warning Leia chose to ignore. "Go ahead," she said, her tone chilly. "Do it."
Nothing happened.
Leia smirked and sat back. She shook her head. "I knew it. You're full of it. I'm not worth anything dead."
Fiona tilted her head slightly, considering her words. "That's true; you aren't," she said. "He is, though."
The distinct sound of a blaster bolt hitting flesh at close range filled the room, followed by a brief sense that everything was suspended in time. Han broke the spell, letting out a sharp cry before biting his own finger to keep himself quiet. Leia's stomach churned and she looked at him wildly. Bright red bloomed on his shirt, right in the center of his abdomen. The borders of the stain crept outward, soaking the cloth, and his anguished expression nearly brought her to tears. She hadn't…She hadn't meant…
"Here's what we're gonna do," Fiona said calmly to Leia. "You're going to place your weapon and your comm on the table and come with me, and maybe, if we're all quick enough, we'll get to my ship in time to stop Solo here from bleeding out. Got it?"
Han's labored breathing filled Leia's ears as she tried to think of a way out of the nightmare her miscalculation had just thrust them into. She looked from Fiona to Han and back to Fiona, unsure if she would be able to hide her desperation to keep him alive. She reached for the blaster on her hip and set it on the table.
"Always knew you were reasonable, Princess," Fiona said cheerfully, tucking one of the blasters into a holster on her hip and leveling the other at Leia. She looked at Han. "Comm. Now."
Han swallowed hard, eyes boring into Leia as he slowly placed his comm on the table. Nearly quicker than Leia could process, Fiona shot a bolt through each device before jerking her head in the direction of the cantina entrance. She pointed a weapon at each of them. "Let's go."
Leia stood, mind whirring away as she attempted to figure out a way to escape. Han gasped softly, drawing her attention to him. His body was slumped in the booth, and he seemed to be attempting to communicate something with his eyes. Lips barely moving, he mouthed the word run. She hardly had time to take a step before he lurched forward violently, shoving all of his body weight into the table and pinning Fiona against the booth seat
Blasterfire filled the building and Leia dropped to the floor, grabbing the vibroblade from her boot. Han could tell her to run and attempt distracting Fiona all he wanted; she wasn't leaving without him.
"Don't fucking move!" Fiona shrieked.
Leia concealed the knife by hiding the blade with her forearm before freezing, half expecting Fiona to immediately demand she drop the weapon. She didn't, and when Leia focused back on the bounty hunter, it was clear her eyes had remained on Han. She towered over him, breathing heavily. Han sat on the floor, back against the outside of the booth and hands raised in surrender. Blood poured from a new wound, this one higher up on his stomach than the first.
Fiona seemed aware that she had lost control of the situation. Leia heard near-panic in her voice as she screamed at Han. "Get up!"
Leia didn't remember throwing the vibroblade, but she apparently had because one second, it was in her hand, the next, it was lodged in Fiona's neck. The woman yelped in pain and grabbed at the handle of the knife, dropping one of the blasters. Leia dove for the weapon and managed to fire three bolts before Fiona crumpled to the floor, motionless.
She looked desperately at her surroundings, eyes landing first on a dizzying amount of fresh blood spilled all over the booth and the floor, and then on a very still, familiar boot.
"Leia," Han cried with frantic distress.
Leia rushed to his side. He was slumped against the foot of the booth, conscious, gasping, and bleeding, bleeding, bleeding everywhere. She knelt next to him and stared at his blood-sodden shirt, shaking almost as badly as he was.
"Leia," he rasped. "Leia, listen—"
She didn't waste a moment answering. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say anyway. Leia tore into her pack, tears threatening to fall as she pulled her med kit out and dug through it for coagulant. He was losing blood fast, but she might be able to stop it.
"It's okay," she said, though she wasn't sure if it was more for his benefit or hers. Tears stung her eyes. She tugged at a hole one of the blaster bolts had burned through his shirt, rending the fabric up the length of his torso so she had better access to the wounds. "It's okay. I can fix this. You'll be okay—"
"Leia," Han interrupted forcefully. "You need to get outta here."
She didn't dignify the command with a response. She found the coag and applied it with trembling hands to the worst of his wounds.
"Sweetheart, we don't know who else is around. If Fi found me, there'll be others, and I'm just gonna slow you down. Go find Chewie. He'll—He can help with me. You gotta—"
Leia looked Han in the eye, jaw set and tears hot as they continued to stream down her face. "Fuck you!" she choked out, barely suppressing a sob. "I'm not leaving you."
The coagulant worked its magic quicker than she expected, staunching the flow and preventing him from bleeding out. Leia placed her hand on his chest to anchor herself and stared at the wounds as they slowly stopped flooding with blood with every one of his breaths. He had a chance. He was going to make it; he had to.
"Bleeding is slowing." I cannot believe he'd suggest leaving—
"Leia—"
"No!" She shook her head. "Don't. No. Your bleeding is slowing. I'm not leaving. I can fix this. I can—" She took a deep breath, scrubbing at the tears that clouded her vision with the heel of her hand, and kissed his temple roughly.
"Baby, look around," Han said weakly. "All that's mine." He lifted a shaky hand and gestured to the pools of blood on the floor. "Don't think I can stand without passin' out."
Leia looked him over. His skin was cool, clammy, pale. He trembled and his eyes didn't seem entirely focused. She shook her head violently and returned to the med kit, retrieving a lone stim shot and removing the wrapper. Leia used an antiseptic wipe to cleanse a patch of skin on his neck before quickly inserting the syringe and pressing on the plunger.
She cupped his cheek in her hand. "That should help in just a minute, Han," she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You'll be able to stand and we'll get you out of here."
He nodded, eyes still unfocused. Leia watched him and, while he didn't seem to visibly improve, after a minute, he nodded again and said, "Think I can try."
She supported as much of his weight as she could manage as they walked between buildings and down an alley to avoid running into anyone else who might want to capture them, wishing desperately that Chewie had come with them. He likely wouldn't go looking for them for several more hours, and by that point, Han might be—
No. No. Han will be okay. He has to be okay.
They made it a block before he collapsed, nearly pulling Leia to the ground with him. She managed to help him through the open doorway of the condemned apartment building and out of the immediate sightline of anyone who might happen to pass by. Leia glanced through a broken window and tried to estimate how much farther they had to go before reaching the Falcon and Chewie.
Two klicks? Three?
She sat next to Han, who was on the ground, his back against a wall. His breath came in desperate gasps and he continued to tremble. His eyes were closed, and his skin remained pale and clammy. He needed blood, and soon.
Leia bit her lip, attempting to come up with any solution other than the one staring her in the face. She was, as she had been informed at the time of her enlistment exam, a universal donor, a walking blood bank. Han needed blood. The answer was obvious, but the mere idea of piercing her own skin made her stomach lurch.
I can fix this, she told herself, rallying just enough to focus on the next thing. Leia dug through her med pack again, this time on a very particular mission. I can fix this, she thought as she retrieved the field transfusion kit she carried. He'll be okay. I can fix him.
The stim shot had been iffy, but it had been the quickest-acting solution she had. A field transfusion took time, but it was her last hope of getting him to the Falcon.
She kissed his temple again before picking up the large needle attached to a blood bag, all covered in plastic. Leia's gut twisted at the sight and she dropped the package.
"Sweetheart," Han mumbled. He opened his eyes, squinting in her direction.
"Shh." She ran her fingers lightly over his cheek and jaw. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm going to fix this. You'll be all right."
Leia picked up the needle in its sterile package again, tears flowing anew, hands trembling fiercely. She inhaled a shaky breath that almost felt like a sob before wiping more tears from her eyes. After tightening a band around her arm, she located a vein, opened an antiseptic pad and scrubbed at the inside of her elbow vigorously. She tore open the needle and blood bag. Quickly, Organa, quickly. She found the vein in her arm again and took a deep breath before plunging the tip of the needle beneath her skin.
Blood entered the tube for only a moment and stopped. Leia realized in her terrified haste, she'd pierced through the other side of her vein. She had to restick herself twice before blood flowed freely down the tube and into the bag.
"Leia," Han mumbled. His eyes were closed.
"I'm here, Han," she murmured, stroking his hair off his forehead.
"'s'cold. Don't like the cold."
"I—I know. I'm going to fix it, okay?" she said softly. She released the band wrapped around her arm and watched as her blood slowly filled the bag she balanced on her thigh.
"'kay."
"It'll take a few minutes," she said to Han. "I need you to keep talking to me, okay?"
"What 'bout?"
Leia felt as if she was beginning to drift away from her body and attempted to focus on her surroundings to keep her mind in the moment. She looked back to the dying man in front of her to try to stop the panic building inside her. "Anything," she said, grasping for a topic. "Tell me about how you and Chewie met."
"Don't like talkin' 'bout that ," he mumbled.
Leia frowned, wondering if he'd heard her correctly. His go-to story in times when distractions were sorely needed had always been various far-fetched stories of how he and Chewie had become friends. From what Leia had observed over the years, the only constant in the stories was that Han had known enough Shyriiwook to communicate with the Wookiee at the time of their meeting, but he seemingly always had some wild variation of the story on standby.
"Not without Chewie 'round," Han added after a long pause. "So he can say it's okay."
"Oh," Leia said, still baffled. She was certain he had regaled her with a wild and improbable tale about meeting Chewie on more than one occasion when it had just been the two of them.
"Where is he?"
"Chewie?" The needle was sitting in her skin, just sitting in her skin, and she needed it out, gone. Leia tried to concentrate on anything else, but the awareness wouldn't fade. Even as she focused on keeping Han talking, she could feel a bubble of panic growing in her chest. She covered the puncture site with her free hand, hopeful that removing the visual would help.
"Yeah," Han said, pulling her attention away from the needle. "I need to tell him…" He trailed off, apparently suddenly aware of the slowly expanding blood bag sitting on Leia's leg. He stared at the bag, looked at her face, then looked at her arm before offering his hand to her. She slid her free hand into his and he squeezed it reassuringly.
She smiled slightly and swallowed, squeezing his hand back. The needle shifted in her skin, turning her stomach, so she loosened her grip. "Thanks," she murmured.
"That for me?"
Leia shot him a look. He was out of it, but surely he wasn't that far gone… Right? Maybe he was doing that thing he did sometimes — getting a reaction out of her to distract from discomfort. "No, I just felt like I had too much blood weighing me down. Wanted to get rid of some and figured this was as good a time as any."
"Good for you," he murmured, his eyes closing again.
Panic seized her. "Han? Sweetheart, you've gotta stay with me, okay?"
A small smile played at the edges of his mouth. "Hey," he said, a hint of mock indignation in his voice, "you don't call me 'sweetheart'; I call you 'sweetheart'."
"Maybe I do now."
"Like the sound of that," he mumbled.
"You would," Leia said, sounding far more playful than she felt.
Han was quiet for a long moment and Leia attempted to tamp down her unease. He still had a light grip on her hand, so he wasn't unconscious, at least probably not. When he finally spoke, he sounded deadly serious.
"Need to tell Chewie he can have her," he said.
Leia's heart stuttered. "The Falcon?"
Han nodded slowly.
"You don't need to be giving the Falcon away right now. We still need it to get outta here."
"Chewie needs 'er to fly home." He paused, then continued as if correcting himself. "Falcon's home, but he needs home to fly home." He looked at her through half-closed eyes and reached out clumsily to touch her cheek. "Wish I could get you a home."
Leia gave him a small smile, tears blurring her vision again. "You have."
"Yeah?" Han smiled back and squeezed her hand weakly, eyes falling closed. "Good job."
His responses worried her — he didn't seem to be following their conversation even halfway any longer and barely seemed to follow his own train of thought — but she had very little time to dwell on that. The blood bag was full.
Leia held her breath as she removed the needle from her arm and hastily taped some gauze over the tiny wound. Following directions she'd read a thousand times in preparation for a day like this one, she had Han hold out his arm, located a vein, and went through the same steps that she had with herself to disinfect a spot of skin.
"It's gonna hurt for a second," she said softly before she slid the new needle into his arm. He didn't even flinch. "Han?" she said worriedly, taping the needle and tube in place.
"'m here," he mumbled.
"I need you to tell me if you start feeling feverish or itchy, okay?" Leia wasn't sure what she'd do if he had an adverse reaction to her blood, but she needed to know if it happened.
"'kay."
She kissed his forehead gently before standing, hooking the blood bag to her belt loop so she wouldn't have to hold it. He reached for her, something desperate in his eyes. She smoothed a hand over his hair before taking his grasping hand in hers.
"I'm not leaving," she said quietly. "Just standing for a few minutes, okay?"
"Thanks," he mumbled. "Know this is scary for ya."
Leia smiled sadly and squeezed his hand. "Of course. You'd do the same for me, I'm sure."
"I'd do anything for you, Leia."
She could have brushed the words off as delusion or the ramblings of a very injured man, but something told her they were as true as anything else he'd said that night. The burden of such affection weighed on her heavily.
"Hang in there for me, hotshot," she said, continuing to stroke his hair with her free hand. "That's the only thing I need you to do."
"Thought I was 'sweetheart' now."
Leia nearly laughed. "Oh, you're allowed to give me fifty nicknames and I'm only allowed to give you one at a time?"
Han chuckled weakly. "Leia, you can call me whatever you want."
She watched him for any sort of reaction to her blood — bad or good. He looked a touch less pale and seemed a bit more lucid after several minutes. Once the blood bag was drained entirely, she knelt next to Han, pulled the needle from his arm and bandaged the puncture quickly. The brief glimpse she saw of the spot already looked bruised. Leia cupped his cheek in her hand and kissed him softly.
"Now, why don't we get this sorta medical treatment on base?" Han mumbled.
She snorted. "Because you haven't been so unlucky as to have me for a medic before. I'm just distracting you from my subpar stick job."
"I'd go to med way more often if you were my medic."
Leia laughed weakly and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I bet you would. But right now, I need you to focus on getting back to the Falcon with me, okay?"
Han nodded. After a few more minutes, he at least seemed stable enough to try moving again. She helped him stand, avoiding touching the wounds on his stomach while guilt for each and every drop of blood he had lost nearly drowned her. He was still unsteady on his feet, but he was mobile at least. They would not be moving quickly enough for her liking, but for the first time since Fiona had fired that shot, Leia was certain they would both make it out alive.
One long trip, three hours in bacta, another transfusion, and some synthflesh later, and Han was resting in a private room on the Alliance med frigate that had been nearest to Ord Mantell. Leia and Chewie sat in chairs in his room, unwilling to leave for even a moment.
He had woken up multiple times, eyes half closed and frantically calling for Leia as if he thought they were still in danger, but had yet to stay awake for long. When he finally opened his eyes fully, looking around the room calmly and seeming to understand his surroundings, Leia jumped to her feet so quickly, she knocked her chair over. She stood back to give Chewie a chance to talk to him first, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
I am so sorry, Han.
[The princess said you gave the Falcon to me,] Chewie said, forcing a toothy grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Han blinked lethargically and shook his head. "Got no idea what you're talkin' about, pal, but you can have the Falcon over my dead body."
[I think your dead body was implied by the circumstances.]
Han didn't seem to fully process Chewie's comment. He glanced around the room, finally peering around the Wookiee's hulking frame until he met Leia's gaze. He smiled at her. "Hey, sweetheart," he said softly.
Leia's lip trembled, the guilt for everything she had put him through nearly overwhelming. Choking on a sob, she brushed past Chewie to reach Han's side. She slid her arms around him gingerly, careful not to dislodge his IV or jostle his injuries.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck.
"Wasn't you that shot me," he mumbled, running his hand clumsily down her back. "Unless I'm rememberin' wrong."
But I'm the reason Fiona fired her blaster in the first place!
Pulling herself together, Leia lifted her head and looked Han in the eye. She brushed a lock of messy hair from his forehead before pressing her cheek to his temple.
"Don't ever scare me like that again," she murmured.
"For you, sweetheart? Anything." He turned his head enough to kiss the edge of her jaw before dropping back onto his pillow and closing his eyes. "You gave me blood?" he asked, sleep already tinging his voice again.
Leia stroked his hair gently. "I did."
"Sorry."
She kissed his forehead. "Don't be. I'd do it again, any time."
"Shouldn't have to," he mumbled. "Where're we goin'?"
"You're not going anywhere for a couple of days at least," Leia chastised lightly.
Han's eyes remained closed. "After. Where'd the outpost move to?"
That's a good sign, Leia thought. The couple of times he had woken up previously, he had been confused about where he was and what was going on around him. The fact that he remembered the conversation they had had prior to running into Fiona had to mean he was improving.
"They're setting up temporarily on a planet in the Outer Rim called Banas," she said, stroking her fingers along the back of his hand.
[You will get a chance to break in your cold weather gear before moving to the base,] Chewie added.
"Yes. Luke said it's not quite as cold as Hoth, but we'll still be seeing a lot of snow."
"Great." He seemed to process what she had said in parts and snapped his eyes open. "Kid's okay?"
Leia nodded, biting her lip. "Everyone's okay. They got news that Imperial troops were on their way from intelligence with enough time to evacuate the entire outpost. The Empire never even saw them."
"Good."
Han closed his eyes again. His breathing slowed, and it took a moment for Leia to realize he had fallen asleep again. She was a bit disappointed that he hadn't stayed awake long, but she knew it was to be expected as he healed.
[He was more awake this time,] Chewie said, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Yes," she agreed, stacking her hand on top of Chewie's. "He seems to be steadily improving."
She couldn't tear her eyes away from Han. He looked more and more like himself by the hour, but he still seemed weak compared to the lively, strong man she had come to care for.
My fault. My fault. My fault.
A tear slid down her cheek, her eyes burning with more. Chewie squeezed her shoulder.
[He will be okay, Princess. He is improving, as you said.]
She sniffed and nodded, unable to look Chewie in the eye. "I know. I know. I just…Chewie, this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't goaded that bounty hunter."
[I would not be so quick to assume that. The bounty hunter you described, she has always behaved erratically. She was never very sneaky, but she made up for that with violence. I do not know that it would have ended any differently for Cub, especially if you were being threatened.]
Leia bit her lip and nodded again. What Chewie said seemed most likely. If Fiona had continued to prod, to speak of Jabba being interested in Leia to — what had she said? 'To supplement his collection'? — If she had continued to say those things, to make threats, Leia was fairly certain that Han would have reacted in a way that would have ended with him shot and bleeding.
[He will just be glad you are not hurt,] Chewie added.
She nodded, eyes still stuck on Han. She knew he was probably right; she just didn't think she deserved it.
They left for Banas as soon as Han was cleared to travel. Leia found it difficult to look at him without being overwhelmed by guilt, though she tried to stifle that feeling as much as possible. She thought she was getting away with it until the first night of their trip when Han turned to her after dinner.
"Stay awhile?" he said softly, his eyes pleading.
Leia nodded, forcing a smile, and feeling a bit bad that he had even felt the need to ask. "Of course."
He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her. "Are we okay?" he murmured when they parted. "You've seemed sorta…off…since I got outta med."
Leia looked him in the eye, heart aching when she recognized the confusion in his expression. She stroked his cheek and nodded. "We're okay. I'm…I'm sorry. I've just felt so terrible about what happened. It was my fault that you got hurt. I thought I was calling her bluff. I never would have done that if I had known…"
Han brushed her cheek with his thumb. "Sweetheart, I know," he said gently, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Look, Fi was kinda crazy. Unpredictable. Think that's why Jabba liked her, 'cause it made her seem like she had guts. Certainly wasn't for her ability to sneak around or keep control of a situation."
"No kidding," Leia murmured, recalling Fiona's panic when Han had surprised her. She leaned her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his side until Han slipped his arm around her.
"Don't worry 'bout it," he soothed, rubbing circles onto her back with his knuckles. "You didn't mean anything by it."
His reaction — or lack of one — seemed too charitable. He was right of course; she hadn't meant to do anything that would result in him almost dying. But that didn't change that she had.
She recalled when she had put a number of people in danger on the Hoth scouting mission by getting herself lost in a whiteout, how Han had been the first to chastise her — and he hadn't minced words. He had been furious when she had hidden a blaster wound in the field, had been livid when she had suggested it might be necessary to leave her when they attempted to rescue Mon. She wasn't blind; she knew the common denominator was her being in danger. But, even though she hadn't been on death's door this time, Han's reaction still seemed too subdued.
She closed her eyes and felt his hand travel down her arm until his fingers brushed over the inside of her elbow. Leia felt faint pain radiate from her arm as he touched the hideous bruise — a remnant of the transfusion. Han exhaled shakily.
Leia's eyes flew open and she lifted her head to look at Han. He stared at the bruise, distress clear on his face. She covered his hand with her own and met his gaze. "I'd do it again," she assured him. "Don't think I regret a single second of that."
Han nodded, though he didn't relax or even respond to what she said. "Think Fi was probably exaggerating about Jabba wantin' you," he said, sounding unsure. "She lied all the kriffin' time. Seemed like a game to her or somethin'."
Leia rested her head on his shoulder again. "She seemed to enjoy messing with us."
He continued as if he hadn't fully heard her. "Think she was lyin'. I'll find out for sure, though. Tv'ig'll know."
Leia didn't really care if she had been lying or not. Her existing Imperial bounty was far, far more dangerous than anything Jabba the Hutt could possibly issue. Sure, if he truly wanted her for the reasons Fiona had implied, it was heinous, but no more heinous than the Empire. Leia's body and mind had been violated repeatedly in an Imperial facility when she supposedly had diplomatic immunity; she couldn't imagine what would be unleashed on her if she was captured as a proven insurgent.
At least Jabba probably didn't have access to the serums Vader liked to use.
"I'm not worried about it," she assured Han.
"Yeah. She was probably lyin'." He wrapped her in a full embrace, kissing her forehead again.
The Banas outpost screamed temporary, though Leia was relieved that they had at least taken the time to construct temporary buildings for living quarters rather than keeping the rank in snow-covered tents. When she first stepped into her assigned quarters, she was surprised to see a small crate sitting on the ground next to a neatly made bunk. She nearly burst into tears when she saw the contents.
Everything she had left in her quarters on Saijo had been packed in the crate: her holos, the starblossom juice bottle cap, the drawing Han had given her, a handful of clothing items, and even a small pile of hairpins. Leia took the time to carefully unpack each item and hold it for a moment before finding a place for it, thanking the Force that her paltry few possessions had survived.
Her room was smaller than any of her previous quarters. Leia thought she might have even had more room when she shared a tent with Shara back on Indoumodo. She knew she had other options — Han had asked if she wanted to sleep on the Falcon the way she had prior to the trip to Ord Mantell — but Leia thought it best to return to sleeping in her own quarters. She would be okay, she had assured him; she had needed the comfort of the familiar ship after the destruction of the settlement, but now… Well, she was a little separated by time and circumstance from the horrific events that had so devastated her. She would be fine.
She had felt strangely guilty about choosing to sleep in her assigned quarters; though, if she was honest with herself, she had felt guilty about damn near everything since Fiona had shot Han.
Because I practically begged her to.
He said he didn't blame her, that he might've done the same thing if he hadn't known how erratic Fiona was, but Leia couldn't shake the feeling that she should have done better, that he deserved so, so much better.
She thought a little distance would help her sort through her muddled thoughts and feelings on the matter. Not purposeful separation, not avoiding him; just the natural distance that came with not spending every waking moment on the Falcon. She would still see Han throughout the day, and she would still visit the ship after dinner most evenings. She simply needed the little bit of time apart that walking to her quarters and sleeping more than a few meters away from him would afford. She was sure that, after a few days with that sort of distance, she would be able to think about Ord Mantell more clearly.
She slept more soundly that first night on Banas than she expected to. Between it being the first night in weeks that she had attempted to sleep somewhere other than the Falcon's crew cabin and the chilly air seeping in through the seal on the door, she thought she might have nightmares. She managed to make it through the entire night with only one interruption: a brief flash of a dream in which her shaking hands were covered in blood and dust of unknown origin.
When she reported to the Command Center the next morning, she couldn't help but smile at Carlist. "I'm not sure who I have to thank for rescuing the contents of my quarters, but I am tremendously grateful," she told him.
General Rieekan smiled slightly. "I believe that was Antilles' and Skywalker's doing."
Leia nodded. "I'll be sure to thank them when I see them next." She glanced around the Command Center, wondering about an unusual hum briefly before locating its source: a small standalone heater near the back of the room that they hadn't needed on the other outposts. She turned back to Carlist. "I know this last run kept me away longer than anticipated. Is there anything we need to discuss?"
He scrunched his brows together, concern clear on his face. He looked her in the eye and tilted his head toward a door. "Let's go into the office," he said quietly.
Leia nodded, heart thumping wildly in her chest as she sorted through every possible reason he might have for such a request. Of course, many of their conversations necessitated closed doors, but the look he had given her felt pointed. She wasn't sure what to make of it.
The office was tiny, and the two desks inside indicated that Leia would again be sharing the space with the general. She didn't mind. Having more room could be helpful, but they would have plenty of space once they got moved to Echo Base.
She perched on the edge of a desk, watching Carlist as he settled into a chair. He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his thumb for a moment before addressing her.
"Solo's recovering all right?"
Leia nodded, though she was confused by the inquiry. Han had spoken to Carlist twice since he had been released by med. Surely they had discussed his status. "Yes, he's recovering remarkably well all things considered."
"And you?"
She frowned and tilted her head quizzically. "I wasn't injured, Carlist."
"No, but you were present for the attack," he said. "It sounded incredibly distressing. Solo said you had to give him a field transfusion."
That damn transfusion, Leia thought. She felt as if she couldn't spend an hour in Han's presence without him getting lost in his own thoughts as he stared at the fading bruise on her arm. He seemed to be obsessing over it while she really just wanted to move past it.
"I was glad to do it. Finally fulfilled my calling as a blood bank in the field." She shot him a wry smile.
Carlist seemed distracted, though he offered her a slight nod in response. He pressed his lips together for a moment before pulling a datapad from one of the desk drawers. "I have been debating whether to show you something or to just let it be, but I think you should see…" He trailed off. "Airen found something a couple of days ago that could become…complicated."
Leia raised an eyebrow. The last time Airen Cracken had found something related to her, she had been framed for murdering multiple civilians on Tibrin via a doctored recording. She couldn't begin to imagine what Carlist might want to show her this time.
"He stumbled across an image in a publication…" He trailed off as he tapped a few selections on the datapad's screen. "It's a small tabloid that leans anti-Imperial, though they seem to be resistant to forging any specific alliances. The publication is barely distributed beyond the moon of the planet that houses its offices, but Cracken has eyes everywhere."
Leia nodded. "Of course."
"Airen said he didn't share it with his team. It is unlikely many have seen it."
She huffed softly, tiring of the lead-up. "I'm sure it's nothing. What deep, dark secret of mine has he discovered?"
Carlist turned the datapad so she could see what he had been looking at. The quality of the image was poor, but Leia made out enough to identify the open-air market on Adarlon. She and Han were in the center of the screen, though the image seemed to have been awkwardly cropped in order to force the focus to their figures. He had his arm around her shoulders and was kissing her temple. Even the grainy quality of the image couldn't hide the grin on her face.
"Would love to know if you have any thoughts," Carlist said softly.
Leia waited a beat before responding, keeping her voice even and hoping she sounded mildly amused despite her pounding heart and dry mouth. "I think it's a tabloid, Carlist." She raised an eyebrow and continued sarcastically. "I'd love to know the context in which this was distributed; it certainly seems like pressing news given the state of the galaxy."
Rieekan touched his datapad's screen and Leia felt her stomach drop as soon as she saw the headline that accompanied the image. Princess plays while her people perish. A quick scan of the copy revealed speculation that Leia had been "cavorting" on Adarlon at the exact moment the bombs dropped on the settlement.
It was a ridiculous assertion and an even more ridiculous indictment. Unless the Empire had released details about what seemed to have been a covert military operation, no one could be sure of the exact time of the attack. And the attack hadn't occurred because of Leia's negligence. It wasn't as if she had been warned and chosen to ignore it. We were buying supplies for the settlement for kriff's sake. I wasn't…I wasn't…I—
"The article is absurd, of course," Carlist said, interrupting her thought spiral. "But I need to know what we're dealing with here. Airen doubts the photo was altered."
He was dancing around the question he really wanted to ask: Are you hiding something about your relationship with Han Solo?
Leia had half a mind to just tell him; she'd had Han's blessing after all. But that had been before Ord Mantell, and everything had felt a little off ever since. Her gut told her she shouldn't blindside Han by telling General Rieekan without him.
"Han and I have posed as a couple on several occasions to mitigate safety concerns," she said slowly, not lying, never outright lying to Carlist. "We always maintain physical contact while we walk through crowded spaces to ensure we don't lose each other. Sometimes, he has to get quite close to speak without others hearing." She shrugged. "You know how the field can be. There are half a dozen possible explanations. I honestly don't even remember this particular moment. I was pretty focused on looking for supplies for the…"
She trailed off, her mind immediately overrun with thoughts of the settlement reduced to ash and dust. She attempted to remain in the moment, focusing on the sensation of her fingernails sinking into her own palm. Banas. I'm in my shared office with Carlist on Banas.
"I was paying more attention to my surroundings than Captain Solo in that marketplace," she continued. "I don't recall what was happening right then."
Carlist eyed her skeptically, and Leia could feel his inner conflict, could practically hear him telling himself it was better not to know for sure. It's only juice, she imagined him thinking before moving on to more pressing matters than that of Han Solo giving her the most chaste kiss possible.
General Rieekan cleared his throat softly. "Regardless, it is probably best if we squash any hint of this being circulated amongst the rank." He glanced down at the datapad again. "I'll let Airen know."
Leia's relief was muddled with guilt for having so thoroughly misled Carlist. The feeling drove her to the Falcon the moment her shift ended. After glancing briefly in the cockpit, she found Han in the lounge alone, sitting at the dejarik table. He held a mug and was staring at its contents intently. He didn't seem to notice Leia enter the lounge at all.
"Han," she said gently as she approached him. He blinked rapidly and looked at her right as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
He shook his head slightly and forced a smile. "Hey, sweetheart," he said quietly, covering her hand with his.
Leia touched his cheek. "Is everything okay?"
Han nodded, his expression barely changing. "Yeah. Yeah, just got caught up thinkin'."
She knit her brows together in concern, chest aching. The nights following Ord Mantell had been different than the nights following their last view of the settlement. Post-settlement, they had talked quite a bit, shared thoughts and feelings fairly freely. Leia had soaked more than one of Han's shirts with tears. After Ord Mantell, though, they'd been sitting in silence a lot. Han said it had nothing to do with her, that he wasn't upset, that he just didn't have much to say, but Leia still wondered if some buried part of him blamed her for his injuries, for putting him in such grave danger.
He'd be right to.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead, eliciting a small smile from him — one that seemed genuine this time. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, pressing her cheek to his.
"Nothin' for you to apologize for, Leia."
She pulled back slightly to look at him — really look him in the eye and try to determine what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He didn't seem to be lying, but something was off.
His eyes were bloodshot, his complexion ashen. Judging by the amount of stubble on his face, he hadn't shaved that day. Leia couldn't be certain — so many of his shirts looked virtually identical — but she thought he might be wearing the same clothing he had been in when she'd left the Falcon for her quarters the night before.
She bit her lip, unsure if the timing was good to bring up talking to Carlist. He was fine with telling Carlist before. And we're sort of running out of time here. She had been able to delay being truly grilled about the photo through a number of indirect statements and implications, but the odds of Carlist realizing she hadn't actually denied being in a relationship with Han at some point over the next day or so were very high. She knew the tabloid image would be brought up again soon.
Leia stroked the back of Han's neck and spoke in a calm, soothing tone. "I have something to run by you."
He nodded slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, what's goin' on?"
"I don't think it'll be a big deal. Carlist came to me about an image that's been distributed in a small, local tabloid in the Minos Cluster." She described the image, explained how she had reacted when prodded for her thoughts on it. As she spoke, he clenched and unclenched his jaw; she could feel the resulting tension in his neck beneath her fingers. "I don't think it's been seen by many, at least not in the Alliance, but I don't feel right misleading Carlist like this. I think we should tell him, like we'd planned to. In the morning, if possible."
Han lurched back, eyes wide with panic. "Fuck, no. Too many people know already."
Leia squinted at him, confused by his words and irritated by his tone. "What are you talking about? Chewie is the only one who knows anything."
He shook his head jerkily. She dropped her hands and took a step back. Han ran a hand through his hair and pressed at a spot on his forehead with his thumb, eyes squeezed shut. "We've pretended to be together to get outta tough spots before. It ain't like it's a picture of us kissin' on the lips. They can't be too pissed about it, right?"
Leia pressed her lips into a tight line and shook her head. "This isn't about the photo or anyone being pissed; it's about hiding a relationship that could be considered a conflict of interest. If I'm asked to help with assigning you work or renewing your contract or — worse — negotiating the conditions of a commission offer, I can't recuse myself from those decisions without reason, Han, and I certainly can't be involved in them." She exhaled softly. "And I don't want to lie to Carlist, either. He went easy on me today; I imagine he'll have much blunter questions for me in a day or two."
"It isn't just Rieekan that'll know, though. Even if we wanna keep things private, it'll be all of Command involved, right?"
"No one will be involved, but they will need to be notified. Just for awareness for assignments. Like with Shara and Kes."
Han held up a finger emphatically, a near-manic look in his eye. Leia noticed his finger trembling. "We ain't Shara and Kes."
She grimaced, concerned the comparison had inspired some level of panic. Their relationship was brand new; of course they weren't exactly like Shara and Kes. "Obviously. We're not anywhere close to—I just mean that considerations are made when they're given assignments to ensure everyone is being treated fairly." She looked at him again, attempting to puzzle through what, exactly, had him reacting so intensely.
He was fine with this before. He was fine.
He didn't look fine at that moment, though; he looked exhausted and frantic and a little queasy. Leia shook her head slowly and stepped close to him, touching his cheek again. "I think you need some sleep, hotshot."
Han closed his eyes at her touch and almost collapsed against her, his forehead pressed to her abdomen. He slipped his arm around her hips. Leia ran her hand through his hair for a few seconds before pulling away so she could see his face again.
"Yeah?" she asked, brows raised. "How long have you been awake?"
He nodded once. "Didn't get a lotta sleep last night."
Leia smiled gently. "I can tell." She ran her hand over his shoulder soothingly. "Why don't we pick this up in the morning? Things'll be clearer if we both get some rest."
Han met her gaze. "You won't say anything to Rieekan?"
"Not a word until we agree on timing."
He nodded again. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay."
Leia squeezed his shoulder. "I'll be back at breakfast. We can talk then."
She leaned down to kiss his cheek, but Han stood abruptly, pulling her into a desperate embrace. He kissed her fully on the mouth, and Leia slid one arm around the back of his neck while she gripped his bicep lightly with her other hand. When they parted, he pressed his forehead to hers briefly before dropping his arms to his side and releasing her.
They said goodnight, and Leia walked from the Falcon to her cramped quarters, her thoughts still on Han. She had been worried that she had damaged something that day on Ord Mantell, that he was having a hard time being around her; the urgency in that last kiss and the way he had held her told her otherwise.
Han still seemed off, and they still needed to sort out when would be the best time to discuss their relationship with Carlist, but Leia was certain with a bit of sleep, they'd be able to handle whatever was thrown their way together.
Han appeared marginally better when Leia slipped aboard the Falcon the next morning, though it was clear to her when she entered the lounge that he had been in the middle of pacing. She shot him a warm smile, affection swelling in her chest. He glanced away from her before gesturing toward the dejarik table.
They settled into the booth, Han keeping a respectable distance of several centims of space between them. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment before looking at Leia, placing his hand on her shoulder, and clearing his throat softly. "Been goin' over things since last night, and I—" He broke off and remained silent for a moment before pushing forward. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to be around each other so much."
The words rattled around in Leia's head for far too long before she was able to absorb their full meaning. She squinted at Han and touched his arm. "What?"
He shook his head and dropped his hand, fingertips still brushing her elbow as if he couldn't help but touch her. "It's too dangerous, me bein' associated with you, Leia, with the bounty and all."
A punch in the gut would have been less jarring, but Leia attempted to maintain composure. "You knew I was wanted when…I've had a bounty the entire time you've known me…"
Han's expression softened and he cupped her cheek in his palm. "Oh…No, sweetheart. No. Not…not dangerous for me." He pressed his lips together. "I checked with a couple of people. Tv'ig said…Well, Fiona wasn't lyin'; Jabba's set his sights on you because he's seen some of those images of you with me. I can't…We can't be seen together any more, Leia."
She nodded jerkily, mind buzzing. "Okay. I'm going to be pretty busy with base operations on Hoth anyway. I doubt I'll be going on missions any time—"
Han hardened his jaw and shook his head, causing her to break off. "Can't have anyone thinkin' you're important to me. Even here. Not if we wanna keep Jabba away from you. Don't know who might let it slip off-base."
Oh. She frowned. "This was never meant to be a secret indefinitely. I can't keep hiding this from Command. It won't be good for either of us."
"Well, they can't ever know. We need Jabba—"
Leia shook her head, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "I don't care about Jabba, Han. He can't be as bad as the Empire, and they're already after me."
Han tapped his thumb rapidly against the table, panic evident in his every movement. "Jabba's worse than the Empire," he said. "The Empire is predictable. They're…they're monsters, but they do the same stuff over and over. Jabba's deranged. He'll hurt you because it makes him feel powerful. He'll hurt you because he thinks it's funny. He'll hurt you just because it hurts me. I—We need him to forget I even know you or he'll—" He broke off, rubbing his hand over his mouth.
Leia pressed her lips together, attempting to sound sympathetic, but truly not seeing the difference between Jabba and any high-ranking Imperial official. "Sounds a lot like the Empire in my experience, Han. We'll just need to be more careful—"
He shook his head and slapped the edge of the table, startling her. "He wants you in with his slaves, Leia!" Han's voice broke. "Do you have any idea—" He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes focused on the surface of the dejarik table.
"I think I've pieced enough together," she said. Fiona hadn't exactly been subtle, and, besides, Leia was aware of the way the Hutts did business; the topic had come up during Senate discussions on many occasions. "It's sex slavery, right? Fiona said whoever brought me in got first visit. I imagine that's a common reward for his favorites."
Han flinched but continued to stare at the table. "I never took him up on those offers, even when I was a favorite, just so you know. Never liked…" He shook his head. "Sentients ain't property. Or they shouldn't be."
Leia rested her hand on his back and rubbed small circles between his shoulders. "No, they shouldn't. I haven't doubted your conviction there for a second, Han."
"He'll hurt you more than the others to mess with me," he said. He sounded exhausted, hopeless, as if Leia had already been captured and harmed.
"Hey," she said quietly, continuing to rub his back. "I'm right here. He doesn't have me. We're both okay. Neither of us is being hurt."
"For now," he spat bitterly. Han shook his head, and slid out of her reach, eyes glued to the top of the table. "We can't do this. I shoulda never—" Another head shake and he finally looked her in the eye. "It's too dangerous for you to be with me."
That familiar refrain, the fruitless concern for her safety that she had heard repeatedly from Alliance leadership, felt like a slap in the face coming from Han. He had never treated her as if she were fragile, had always believed her to be as competent and able as anyone else — more so, in many areas.
"We gotta stop," Han continued. "I can't be with you any more."
Leia blinked, processing what he had said. "That's really what you want?"
He didn't look at her when he shook his head. "Yeah. Shouldn't have ever been with you in the first place."
Her head swam. Han didn't seem open to discussing the topic further, and coercing him into a longer conversation seemed like a fruitless endeavor. Leia felt an immense pressure in her chest and the overwhelming need to escape, especially once tears began to prick at her eyes.
She nodded and stood abruptly, forcing an even, calm tone. "Right. Okay. I understand." She stepped toward the ring corridor so she could get far away from the Falcon and its primary inhabitant.
"Leia," Han called, freezing her in place. She turned, jaw set and found that he had moved quickly enough across the lounge to be a mere arm's length from her. He reached for her, seemed to catch himself before making contact with any part of her body, and jerked his hand back to his side. "It was never gonna work, me an' you. I was always gonna fuck things up."
He was wrong, so very, very wrong. They could have talked things through or figured something out or—
Leia pressed her lips together and nodded absently, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Right. No point in giving it a shot when you've got everything figured out for the both of us."
He said something else as she walked briskly out of the lounge, but she didn't fully process his words; she was too focused on making it to her quarters before she made a spectacle of herself by crying in public.
Leia palmed her door open and sat on her bunk, staring at her own trembling hands. Tears burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks in quick rivulets, but they offered no release for the pressure in her lungs.
When a message from Admiral Ackbar came through on her comlink, she read it with a sinking heart. Outpost discovered and evacuated. Command briefing at 0700.
Leia closed her eyes and bit her lip, breathing in deeply for a moment before checking her chrono. She had ten minutes before she needed to join the High Command briefing. She could make herself presentable in ten minutes; she had to.
Just think about the next thing. They'll want you on holo. What's the next thing, Organa?
She needed to take care of whatever damage crying had done to her appearance. Leia pulled her small make-up kit out, determined to save any further tears for her bunk that night.
She would join the comm and would not let on that her chest was full of something heavy and immovable. She would push her last conversation with Han to the back of her mind so she could look normal, act normal, be normal. She would listen to the update and help think through options and solutions as requested. She would be the leader she knew she was.
No one would be the wiser.
A/N: Fiona Whint is an OC.
Okay, so...we're close to the end! And I know this chapter was a lot! Thank you for reading this far! The final chapter of this story will be posted by Friday, September 13, 2024.
I also did want to remind you all that, once this story wraps, I won't be posting on FFN any more. I so appreciate all my readers here, but the site's technical issues are becoming more and more frustrating, and the last I saw, they were trying to fundraise pretty desperately via a post on Twitter, so I'm not sure how much longer the site has. But I post over on AO3 under the same username, and my stories are visible to guests, so even if you don't have an account, you'll be able to read and comment.