A/N: This fic is now officially an AU because I gave Leia pockets.
Thank you to DiplomaticPrincess for beta reading this chapter! I so appreciated your feedback!
We have no time for sorrows.
Nothing had ever been more true. Echo Base was completed and ready for the Banas outpost to relocate. Leia and Carlist worked tirelessly to ensure every possible contingency was considered for the move. Her days were taken up by meetings to communicate plans to individual groups, comms with High Command, and drafting messages to send to the construction and engineering teams on Hoth. For days, she woke before dawn and worked until she could barely make the trip between the Command Center and her quarters without stumbling. The moment she climbed in her bunk, though, every painful memory from the past few months seemed to surface one after the other, drowning out productive thoughts and infecting her dreams.
She was able to keep on task during the day at least, and for that, she was grateful. She couldn't afford any distractions, not so close to Echo Base being fully operational. The Alliance had taken hit after hit, but having a central location would strengthen their ability to train and plan. They had lost ground in the Mid Rim — the discovery of the Ruusan outpost had been a discouraging turn of events — but they were making plans to get it back. They could not afford to falter from distraction with so much at stake.
Her parents were at the forefront of her mind as she discussed strategy with the rest of High Command, and though she could never begin to atone for her failures as the last princess of Alderaan, Leia could only hope that the work she was putting in was worth a fraction of the trust they had placed in her years prior.
We're so close to regaining ground, Dad. And when we win, Mom, I'm going to fix things for the remnants of our people.
Every waking second was spent doing something, but more nights than not, sleep evaded her. As she lay awake and wired in her bunk, thoughts racing, chest hollow and aching, she told herself that it was good, actually, that Han had broken things off when he did. It had saved her the pain of worrying that she was neglecting something precious. There was no longer anything to neglect while she was so entirely absorbed in Alliance work; she could focus fully on the cause.
In consideration of Han's concerns about anyone knowing, she hadn't breathed a word of what had gone on between them to a single being. She could have spoken to Chewie, she supposed, but his loyalty was ultimately with Han, and that would put him in an awkward position, so she refrained. Carlist obviously hadn't been informed; Luke, Shara, and Wedge remained ignorant of their brief dalliance.
And it was a dalliance, she told herself often enough that she almost believed it.
Her discretion wasn't only about Han's concerns. Leia was aware of what their involvement would look like, how their lack of disclosure might reflect poorly on both of them with Command — and possibly with the entire Alliance. Not to mention, just thinking about Han caused an ache to radiate through her chest; she couldn't imagine the pain that might manifest if she chose to talk about it.
It was best to forget it had happened at all, she reasoned, so she bore the injury in isolation, trusting that ignoring it would bring about sufficient healing the way an untouched wound eventually scabbed over.
Despite her commitment to forgetting, the words that had sealed the fate of their…whatever it had been…streaked through her thoughts night after night.
'It was never gonna work, me an' you. I was always gonna fuck things up.'
Then why even pretend to try? she wondered, poking at the wound and leaving it raw. Han did care about her; of that she was certain. So, if he'd truly thought it would never work out, and he dove in anyway…
It was cruel.
To both of them.
Cruel.
Han wasn't cruel. There must have been some part of him that thought they had a chance, must have been some part of him that had hoped for something better than what had happened. He clearly didn't want to dwell on that, though, or even acknowledge it.
It would be a kindness, she knew, to return to the way things had been before, to really and truly act as if nothing had happened, but Leia wasn't certain that was possible. Their relationship had progressed so naturally, she wasn't entirely sure she could draw a stark line to divide the Them, Before from the Them, After. Some of it was simple: there would obviously be no more kissing, no more holding one another just because. But what about the life experiences that only Han knew about? What about the stupid private jokes and night watch conversations and frantic embraces that provided assurance of their mutual survival? That had all been a part of it, the Before and the After. She wasn't certain she could untangle one from the other.
She was certain she could treat just about anyone with decorum, though. She could be polite and professional, friendly, even, without muddying the waters. She did it all the time with the rank; she could do it with Han.
He had mainly kept to the Falcon, but he couldn't keep up the loner act forever. Besides, he was helping with the move to Echo, and Carlist already had a number of supply requests ready for his next run. She would need to be able to communicate instructions without betraying her hurt, so she ran through scenario after scenario to prepare herself for the inevitable interactions. If she passed Han while walking to the Command Center or on her way to the mess, she'd smile the way she did with Wes or Hobbie. If the Alliance needed him to go on a run, she would communicate the details of the job in the same concise, professional way she did with any other contractor. If she had to accompany him on a mission for some reason—
Well, there shouldn't be any more missions for her until the move to Echo Base, at least.
She didn't get an opportunity to attempt being polite, professional, and friendly with Han until two full days after she had fled the Falcon with tears threatening to fall. He hadn't left the ship, and Leia hadn't gone looking for him, so it wasn't until he was asked to attend a meeting with the rest of the pilots who would be flying during the move that she had to interact with him.
He looked…not great, if she was honest. Which no one had asked her to be. Honesty had no place in her relationship with Han Solo currently; cordiality was the focus.
Still, the dark circles under his eyes hadn't lessened much, and he seemed twitchier than usual. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head. He seemed unwell.
The smile she attempted when she met his gaze felt tight and unnatural, but she was fairly certain it didn't differ much from the smiles she offered the transport pilots before reviewing the meeting agenda.
The plan was to move in two groups; Leia would accompany the first while Carlist rode with the second. Flight squadrons were assigned to flank the transports while they traveled to and from hyperspace lanes, and the contractors would be distributed equally between the groups as back-up. They intended to leave in one week's time.
Han was quiet during the entire meeting, which struck Leia as odd — he always had a comment or two ready — but she saw him pull General Rieekan aside afterward. She assumed if he had any issues with the plans they had discussed, he would bring them up with Carlist.
Later, while Leia read over the latest transmissions from the construction team on Hoth, Carlist cleared his throat. "The ship assignments for the trip out are nearly finalized," he said. "I assume you'll want to fly with Solo."
Leia pressed her lips together, a pang in her chest threatening to overwhelm her. Large transports — especially the CR90 corvettes that the Alliance favored — still made her nervous. She no longer became frantic with fear at the mere thought of flying in one, but she did usually opt to fly on the Falcon if at all possible — even before she and Han had gotten closer.
"I can take whatever ship makes the most sense," she said carefully. "If Captain Solo is needed elsewhere, we can have another pilot accompany my group."
Carlist tapped the screen of his datapad and responded without looking up. "Solo's fine. Already talked to him about leaving with the first transport. He asked if you'd need a spot."
He did? Leia frowned, feeling unexpectedly irritated. "Well, I'm glad to know my decisions are being made for me," she said coolly.
"Leia," Carlist said in a warning tone. She jerked her head up, eyes focused on his kind, concerned face. "I realize I didn't quite word it as such, but I was asking."
Feeling chastised and a bit ashamed of her own biting response, Leia shot General Rieekan a penitent look. "Apologies, Carlist. I have not been at my best lately."
He studied her carefully. "Did something happen with Solo?"
The words were on her tongue. Carlist would likely not know what to do with the information, but Leia could at least verbalize what had been paining her, and maybe, maybe the pressure in her chest would let up.
It was a dalliance, she reminded herself. Talking about it will only make it into something it never was.
Leia shook her head and scoffed softly. "Nothing I can't handle," she said. "If Han offered, the Falcon will be fine."
The final week on Banas flew by with hardly enough time each day to complete her to-do list. Leia barely had time to think of any singular being while she focused on the collective troops that had to be safely moved to a hostile environment. The stay on Banas had been good preparation for everyone — the shock of going from beautiful, temperate Saijo to Hoth would have been far more jarring — but there was still so much to see to, and only so many hours in the day.
Her left boot was feeling too small, and she knew it was due to the heavy socks she had to wear on Banas coupled with the presence of the vibroblade. She couldn't stand the pressure on her instep when the knife was hidden, couldn't stand to look at it when it wasn't. She needed it out of sight, needed to stop staring at the Veda pearl handle Han had kept polished, the blade Han had sharpened for her from time to time. She needed it gone.
Early in the morning on the day they were set to leave, Leia approached the Falcon for the first time in several weeks. She had avoided the ship even when needing to discuss the move with Han and Chewie, opting to catch them at mealtimes or at the end of other meetings instead. Boarding felt like an intrusion, but…well, the ramp was down.
She knocked on the hull, hands trembling more than she preferred, and stood on the edge of ramp and deckplates. "Han?" she called. "Chewie?"
No answer.
Leia hesitated. She could wait, or maybe come back when one of them was around, but it had taken every moment she had been awake that morning for her to muster up the courage to walk up the ramp. If she turned around, she didn't think she would be able to come back.
She she stepped carefully onto the deckplates and headed back toward the lounge. She wanted to leave the vibroblade somewhere that looked purposeful, somewhere that would make it obvious she hadn't dropped it or forgotten it. She didn't think she could bear Han trying to return it.
She passed the open door to the crew cabin and noticed the 'fresher door was shut. Leia paused, listening, and heard running water. She needed to hurry.
Just leave it on the table. There was no reason to go elsewhere, no reason to trespass further into space that wasn't hers. She felt stuck, though, staring at the booth and recalling the hours spent curled up next to Han while they traveled. Memories of long conversations, raucous laughter, and gentle kisses flooded her mind, leaving her brain buzzing, her muscles frozen.
"Kriffing hells! Leia." She swung around, heart pounding. Han stood with his hand clutched to his bare chest, his hair still damp from the shower. He was, mercifully, wearing bloodstripes, but Leia still felt the need to avert her eyes. "Startled me," he said, his brow furrowed in concern.
Leia cleared her throat. "Sorry," she said quietly. "Sorry, the ramp was down and I needed to…" She shook her head.
He stepped closer. Seemingly without thinking, he reached for her, then jerked his hand away the second his thumb brushed against her cheek. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, everything in her wanting to run. "I'm okay." Leia took his hand in hers. "I just needed to return something." She pressed the sheathed vibroblade flat into his palm.
Han looked at the small weapon in his hand briefly before raising his eyes to meet hers. Leia glanced away almost immediately. The hurt in his expression was too much for her to bear. "Sweetheart," he said softly.
Leia swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "Please don't, Han," she whispered before turning and leaving the Falcon.
She kept her focus straight ahead as she returned to her quarters, brushing past someone who said her name, assuring them she would help them later. She just needed a minute, just a minute alone so she could recenter and emerge normal, strong, and unaffected.
She just needed a minute, but gave herself a few — one to recenter, regroup, remind herself who she needed to be, the rest to practice her expression for when she saw him again. She had to spend the next couple of days with him on his ship after all. She needed to be just as normal, just as professional as she would be with anyone else.
Her hair was frizzy — she had pinned up the braids she had slept in without smoothing them out. Leia unpinned them and ran her fingers through her hair, allowing the waves to fall loose over her shoulder. She took a breath and rewove the strands quickly before pinning them around her head again. She took a look at her face briefly before running a damp cloth over her eyes and cheeks, removing any evidence of tear stains. Her skin was still blotchy, but make-up would cover most of the discoloration just fine.
She was just applying lipstick when there was a knock at her door. Leia took another deep breath, capped the lipstick, and palmed the door open. Han stood in the cold without his coat.
She regarded him with the cool interest she had practiced, shutting down any part of her that wanted to ask him why the hell he was risking frostbite by running around in an undershirt and bloodstripes in the dead of winter on Banas. He couldn't have been out there long, anyway. She'd left him less than fifteen minutes before.
"Yes?" she asked, employing an old trick she'd rarely had to use of looking at a spot between his eyebrows rather than in his eyes. Leia didn't know if she could handle direct eye contact right then.
"Leia," he said quietly.
"Yes?"
His expression fell and Leia caught herself focusing on his entire face, ribs shrinking around her heart at his apparent confusion. Han rubbed the back of his neck and ran a hand through his hair. "Do—Do you want me to leave?" he asked quietly.
Leia looked at him quizzically, head tilted. "I'm about to head to the Command Center for my shift and you're hardly dressed for the weather, so it might be a good idea to get back to your ship. We're starting evacs tonight, you know."
Han shook his head. "No, no. Do you want me to leave?"
"Leave…the Alliance?" He nodded and her heart pounded in her ears, though Leia remained outwardly calm. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head slowly. "No, Han. You're a great help to us. We wouldn't have made it this far without you." His eyes darted around for a moment as he processed what she said before settling on hers. She glanced away when she saw him wince, making a sudden decision — one that would be better for both of them. Leia reached out and gave his forearm a friendly pat. "I can probably get you clearance to head toward Hoth as soon as your cargo's loaded," she offered. "You don't need to wait for the fleet."
Han furrowed his brow. "Thought I was your transport."
Leia swallowed and shrugged. "Plans have changed. I'll be on one of the corvettes." She squeezed his arm briefly before shoving both of her hands in the pockets of her vest. She stepped out into the cold and shut her door, heading toward the Command Center. Han followed, a numb expression on his face.
"I don't mind waitin'," he finally said.
"I know," Leia assured him with a pained smile, allowing the briefest crack in her mask to show. "But there's no reason for you to."
Han pursed his lips and nodded. "Guess I'll start prepping for takeoff then," he said quietly.
Leia nodded and paused before entering the Command Center. "Han?" she called, wanting to say something that might remedy the awkwardness between them. He looked at her and Leia gave him a small smile. "Clear skies."
Han nodded, fingers kneading at the back of his neck again. "Clear skies, Princess," he murmured before heading toward his ship.
The move kept Leia busy and focused for days. Despite careful planning and clear communication, there remained a fair number of beings who hadn't yet had to navigate the labyrinthian corridors of Echo Base. Once her transport landed, Leia spent hours helping those unfamiliar with the structure find their quarters, the Command Center, the mess, the med wing. By the time the second transport reported it was nearing the planet, she was feeling a bit wobbly.
She leaned against a wall in the south hangar, gripping a data pad in one hand, her eyelids heavy. She wanted to remain available to help the incoming transport and flight squadrons, but she truthfully wasn't sure how much longer she could stand without caf.
"You look like you're about to fall over."
Leia jerked her head in the direction of Han's voice. He stood a meter or so away, one corner of his mouth lifted in a tentative half-smile.
She attempted a friendly expression, but her smile felt all wrong, like clay she didn't have the skill to mold into a recognizable shape. Shrugging, she stared back into the hangar, hoping Carlist's transport would land soon so she could focus on getting the second half of the outpost settled.
"Yes, I imagine I'll sleep well tonight."
Han stepped closer, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You get enough sleep on the trip?"
Leia kicked at some ice that had accumulated in a slick patch on the floor. "I had plenty of opportunity to rest," she said, not exactly lying, but, well…not exactly telling the truth, either. She had had plenty of opportunity to rest, but she hadn't taken it. She had been up for a day and a half, but that wasn't really Han's business.
She noted some movement in her peripheral vision and had to assume Han was scratching the back of his neck — a nervous habit that she wasn't certain he was aware of himself. When he spoke, he leaned closer to her, his voice low. "You feelin' okay?"
Leia nodded once, a stiff, sharp, movement that kept her from softening, from thinking too much about why he asked. "I'm quite well, thank you."
"How much longer you gotta stick around?"
"Once everyone on the second transport knows how to find their quarters, med, and the mess, I imagine I'll call it a night."
Han hesitated a moment before taking another step toward her. "If ya got time before they land, we've got caf made on the Falcon. Got fresh bantha milk, too."
Leia pursed her lips, sincerely considering the offer. The Falcon would be a warm reprieve from the frozen hangar, and Han's caf was always better than whatever was available in the mess. But the idea of stepping foot on the ship made her stomach churn. She shoved her free hand in the pocket of her vest and shook her head slightly. "I shouldn't leave."
"No one'll miss ya for a few—"
"Organa!" Wes called, emerging from a nearby corridor. "Door to our quarters won't open. What do we do?"
Leia shot Han another all-wrong smile. "I need to attend to that."
He nodded. "Should only take a minute, right? After, maybe?"
She stared at him, attempting to decode his expression, words, and tone. What does he want? I don't—
"Organa!" Wes called again.
"Janson, can you hold yourself together for five seconds?" Han barked, not taking his eyes off Leia.
Irritation pricked at her. He had some nerve, answering on her behalf, even if Wes was being unreasonably impatient. She shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, Captain, but I have things I need to attend to here." She stepped in Wes' direction.
She heard Han mutter, "Captain?" but couldn't justify wasting the energy to explain herself; the Rogues were apparently unable to get into their quarters, and that was a much higher priority.
It only took a few minutes to reboot the keypad that was giving the Rogues trouble, and by the time they were safely in their quarters, Leia heard an announcement that the last transport had landed. She walked briskly back to the south hangar, using every bit of energy she had left to propel her body forward so she could update General Rieekan and help the rest of the troops.
Hoth was relentlessly uncomfortable, the environment disturbed and surreal. Leia had thought she was prepared for the prospect of spending the rest of her days — or at least the rest of the war, though she considered them more or less one and the same — in the cavernous, icy corridors of Echo Base, but she had been thoroughly mistaken. She had been to the base dozens of times, but she had always had hope of eventual reprieve. Her visits had had departure dates, and even as she thought about actually living on the base, she had assumed that the warmth of the climate-controlled lounge of the Falcon would be available as an occasional refuge. Now, boarding the ship for anything other than business seemed out of the question.
Han had been confusing. He had made it clear that he believed the danger to be in the knowledge of their closeness being made public, which Leia assumed meant he wanted an obvious separation. To his credit, he hadn't tried to contact her privately, hadn't sought her out just to talk — he always had some reason for speaking with her. He'd sit next to her in meetings and offer her caf from the Falcon or say she looked tired and inquire about her level of exhaustion or try to resurrect old private jokes. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with those attempts at interaction. They seemed like a sort of return to their friendship before she'd gone off and developed feelings for him, but they also felt like a dagger straight through her heart every time.
She couldn't engage with him on that level, at least not for awhile. It hurt too much. She responded with common courtesy and cordiality and not much else. She made small talk, but didn't react to his questions or comments with any particular emotion or depth. Han seemed increasingly frustrated with every interaction, and Leia began to feel as if she was constantly failing a test of some kind, though she had no idea what he expected of her. Finally, during one meeting, Luke sat in the empty seat next to Leia before Han had a chance to, and a new sort of normal was established.
Leia's days continued to be eaten up by base operations — particularly working with the other outposts to organized their moves. She didn't have much time for socializing. So, when Luke called her name in the mess when she was headed to her office to eat lunch while she worked, she was tempted to keep walking. She wanted to see Luke, but she was busy, always busy, and would continue to be busy until every outpost relocated to Echo Base, or possibly until the end of the war; she couldn't rightly say which.
She felt guilty ignoring her friend, though, and turned to at least wave at him before leaving.
Luke gestured to an empty spot across from where he and Wedge sat, directly next to Shara, a seat that almost seemed specifically devised to entice Leia to sit with them for a meal.
She sighed softly and smiled at her friends. She could spare a few minutes. She didn't have another meeting until the next morning, and she could always work a bit late to wrap up any loose ends at the end of the day.
She sat next to Shara and directly across from Luke, nodding in greeting to them both along with Wedge. "How is everyone?" she asked.
"Haven't seen you in ages, Organa," Wedge said. "They keeping you locked up in that office?:
Leia rolled her eyes. "I led an all-hands just this morning, so unless you were absent—"
Wedge shot her a harmless scowl. "You know what I mean. Being in a meeting you're leadin' doesn't count."
She shrugged and took a bite of a mushy, unrecognizable grain. "It's a busy time. Things will be less hectic once all of the outposts are relocated."
Shara bumped her shoulder with her own. "You sure about that?"
Leia pursed her lips and shrugged. "Well, we can always hope."
"How many more outposts have to relocate?" Luke asked.
"We're going to start bringing them in two at a time," Leia said. "So, eight outposts in four groups. A couple are arriving this afternoon." She took another bite of her lunch, and found it had already cooled to an unpleasant temperature. If she didn't hurry, she'd be crunching on icy nerf within a few minutes.
A piece of flimsi landed next to her tray, followed by a heavy hand pressing it to the table top. "What the kriff is this?" Han barked.
Leia jumped, heart pounding, wondering how he had managed to sneak up on her. She glanced up at him briefly before looking over the memo. "It appears to be orders to move the Millennium Falcon to the north hangar," she said crisply.
Han scowled. "Couldn't've told me in person, Princess?"
She squinted at him, truly confused by his frustration. You wanted us to stop associating with one another. Why would I personally deliver an order when I wouldn't have done that for any other contractor?
"This was distributed to all of the contractors who chose to miss this morning's all-hands," Leia said. She did not point out that Han had been the only contractor absent.
"Why're we havin' to move all the way to the small hangar?"
Leia raised an eyebrow, irritated by his tone, but kept her own voice even. "We have two more outposts relocating today. The flight squadrons and transports need the space."
Han huffed. "I decide where my ship goes, not you."
She rolled her eyes. "The last I checked, that memo wasn't signed by any one person." She knew it hadn't been. She had typed out Echo Base Leadership on the From line herself.
He scowled again and shook his pointer finger at her. "The north hangar's a pain in the ass to fly in and out of. It's too small."
He was reaching for something to be irritated about. The north hangar was identical to the south hangar in every way except that it had less space internally. The hangar entrance was the same size, and the space between ships was the same. The only difference aside from size that Leia could think of was the fact that, due to the most common wind direction at the base's location, the north hangar often had better visibility than the south.
She didn't say any of that, though. "I was under the impression that you had the skill to land just about anywhere, Captain. Is that no longer the case?"
Han rocked back on his heels, his eyes dark and his mouth set in a thin line. "I can land anywhere."
"Good." She plastered a wrong, cold smile on her face. "Land in the north hangar."
He pointed a finger close to her face, but didn't seem to have a good response. After opening and closing his mouth, he threw his hands in the air, sending the flimsi flying off the table. Han stalked out of the mess, running a hand through his hair as he went.
Leia took another bite of her lunch, and was distraught to find that it was now entirely cold.
"What the hell's wrong with Solo?" Wedge asked, glancing between Luke and Leia.
"He's been out of sorts since we moved here," Luke said. "He keeps saying he's fine, but…" He shrugged before looking at Leia, concern clear in his eyes. "Have you been able to talk to him?"
She shook her head. "I could not begin to guess how that man's brain operates." Han had said he didn't want others to associate her with him, but he kept finding reasons to talk to her and seemed irritated every time she responded to his questions.
Luke frowned. "I always thought you two sort of understood each other."
So did I, Leia thought mournfully, though she didn't dare verbalize it.
The rest of the day felt like an onslaught of tasks and requests. She had no meetings, but that meant she was available to be contacted by a wide variety of rank members about issues around the base. By the time she stumbled down the corridor toward her quarters, Leia was pretty certain she had walked every floor of Echo Base in its entirety. Twice.
Shara leaned against the wall directly next to Leia's door, rubbing her arms and shivering despite being covered from head to toe in Alliance-issued outerwear. Leia scrunched her brows together in concern.
"Shara? Is something wrong?" Her stomach dropped. "Is it Kes?" Kes was still on Home One as far as she knew, but maybe some message had been received in the time it had taken Leia to walk from the Command Center to her quarters.
Shara shook her head. "No, no. Everything's fine. I just wanted to talk."
Leia shot her a wry smile. "Couldn't have just commed?"
Her friend shook her head again, a grim expression on her face. "I would, but you're kind of an expert at dodging those when you want to be."
Leia bit her lip hard, her chest twisting with guilt. She punched in her passkey and gestured for Shara to enter when her door whooshed open.
Entering her quarters brought minimal relief from the chill in the corridor. The base's structure being what it was, they couldn't risk warm pockets caused by heaters building up in small, enclosed spaces. Leia primarily relied on the thermal sleepsack she had been provided to keep warm at night.
She had a tiny table with two chairs in her room, along with her bunk and a dresser. Shara didn't sit in either of the chairs, instead opting to stand somewhat awkwardly to one side as Leia sat on her bunk.
"What's going on, Shar?" Leia finally asked.
Shara glanced away from her before finally making eye contact. "Look, I haven't said anything, and I haven't heard anything, either, so I don't think anyone else caught on. No one knows. I just…noticed some things awhile back, and it all seems different now and I'm just trying to…" She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.
"I'm not sure I'm following. What's…What're you talking about?"
Shara sighed and opened her eyes again, her gaze focused on Leia's. "Did you and Solo break things off?"
Leia felt the blood drain from her face as her stomach churned. Shara knew? Shara knew?
She not only knew, but she knew and she hadn't said anything; Leia could surely trust her enough to at least confirm it, to talk about it a little. She won't say anything if I ask her not to.
"I'm not just asking to ask," Shara continued, shoving a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. "It's none of my business, I guess, unless you want it to be, but I just thought if you needed to talk…I just…I already figured out you were seeing each other, so you don't have to tell anyone else. I just want you to know you can talk to me."
She could…she could tell Shara. She could tell Shara, and at least she could talk about it with someone. Hell, she didn't even have to tell her; a single nod would open up the conversation.
And maybe…maybe if there wasn't so much to do or so many people who needed her attention, she would have had the energy for such a thing. But Leia was supposed to be acting as if everything was as it had been before she and Han had first kissed, before she had developed feelings for him. If she started talking about it, it would be like ripping open a half-healed wound that she did not have the resources to tend to.
Echo Base was her priority; the Alliance was her priority. She couldn't spare emotion or thought for anything else. Maybe once everyone was settled on base…but that was weeks away.
Leia forced a smile that she hoped looked genuine, her heart aching. "I know I can talk to you, Shara," she began. "But there's nothing to talk about."
Shara looked a little hurt. "Leia, come on. I saw the way you were around each other that day we went to the range, and I've seen the way Han's been looking at you the past couple of weeks. Something happened."
More than something happened, Leia thought, wishing, wishing she could return to the time of the range visit. Her biggest heartbreak back then had centered around a gutted X-wing. The settlement had still been around, she and Han had been so…
Everything had changed since then.
A part of Leia wanted to crack herself open and ease the aching pressure in her chest by telling Shara. But she also knew that, if she insisted a second time that nothing had happened, her friend would back off. Shara cared, but she generally tried to respect Leia's privacy.
"There's really nothing to talk about. Han and I are…" She trailed off, unsure of how to finish the statement. In the past, she would have said friends; she longed to be able to say she and Han were friends. Han had been, at one point, her closest friend, the one most likely to make her feel less alone even when she had felt out-of-place damn near everywhere. But they weren't really anything any longer. She attempted to act pleasant when they were around one another, but he had been increasingly irritable as time went on, and she felt her patience with him wearing thin. They were barely colleagues.
Hearing that would certainly strike Shara as strange, though.
Leia pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger nervously and looked Shara in the eye. "There's nothing going on between Han and me," she said firmly. "I appreciate the concern, though."
Shara stared at her in disbelief, but eventually nodded slowly. "Okay. Sure. Whatever you say."
Leia managed to avoid boarding the Falcon for weeks after the move to Echo Base, but she was fully aware she couldn't stay away forever. When Luke told her Han had invited the two of them over for dinner, she felt an odd sense of relief. She would be able to be on the ship and around Han while Luke and Chewie acted as a buffer. Maybe the dinner would help them return to normalcy.
The invitation, like nearly everything related to Han, was confusing. While Leia hadn't exactly sought Han out, Han had absolutely begun avoiding her. She had watched him walk into the mess just that morning, make eye contact with her, and leave without even grabbing caf. She wondered if Luke had somehow misunderstood.
"You're sure he invited me?" she prodded.
Luke nodded, then seemed to hesitate, as if some new idea had just occurred to him. "I mean, I asked if you were coming, and he said to ask you myself."
It wasn't exactly being invited, but he wasn't excluding her, either. She at least wouldn't surprise Han if she showed up.
When she didn't agree right away, Luke placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Look, I know you two haven't exactly been friendly recently, but can you try to patch things up? I miss all of us being able to hang out."
Leia bit her lip. If I can be normal around him, maybe he'll do the same, she thought hopefully. We can get back to the way things were before.
She nodded and smiled at Luke. "I miss it, too," she said, covering his hand with hers and squeezing. "I'll go."
As dinnertime approached, Leia's stomach churned with uncertainty and nerves. Luke had suggested they walk to the Falcon together, so she at least wasn't alone as she boarded the familiar ship.
[Princess, I did not know you were going to be here] Chewie said in surprise as they entered the lounge. He grinned and waved them in.
Han was digging through the conservator, but jerked to attention, eyes meeting Leia's for the briefest of seconds before he turned to the hotplate on the counter. "Didn't think you'd come," he said.
Luke seemed confused. "I told you earlier that we could both make it."
"Her Highness has been awful busy is all." Han pulled a bowl from the cabinet and added it to a stack of three already sitting on the counter.
"My workload's been lighter since the last outposts got settled, so it worked out," Leia said pleasantly. "I appreciate the invitation."
He shrugged without looking at them. "Kid's suggestion."
"Right. Of course." She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip before forcing a smile. "Can we help with anything?"
Han shot her a suspicious look before shaking his head. "Nah, just heatin' up leftovers."
An awkward silence descended on the lounge as Leia tried to recall what her Before interactions had been like with Han, though she still had a hard time drawing a stark line between Before and After with him. They hadn't been friends, and then they had, and then they had been more, but the borders of each designation were blurred into oblivion.
[I was able to update the dejarik table] Chewie said, looking at Leia and Luke. [We have three new species to choose from. Would either of you like to play?]
Relieved, Leia seized the opportunity to keep busy without bothering Han. She nodded and sat on one of the stools at the dejarik table. "I'll play with you, Chewie."
Luke and Chewie both settled in the booth and Chewie turned the table on. Leia glanced at Han just in time to catch him looking over his shoulder at her. Or maybe all of them. Probably all of us.
Chewie and Leia won a game each before Han said the food was ready. Leia promised Chewie a tie-breaker game after dinner as Han and Luke set bowls full of some sort of stew on the table.
"This looks wonderful," Leia said, glancing between Han and Chewie.
"Not sure it's up to your usual standards, Worship, but it'll do for the rest of us just fine."
Leia noticed Luke tense and had half a mind to let the snide remark slide for his sake, but Han was being an ass. She could at least try to keep her confrontation light, she supposed.
"My 'usual standards' being the rations we've been getting in the mess?" she mused. "I think anything warm and easily identifiable exceeds those by a wide margin."
Han mumbled something unintelligible while staring into his bowl.
Luke stirred his stew nervously while looking at the others. "Heard we're expecting a few taunlets."
Leia swallowed the bite she had just taken and nodded, smiling. "Yes, the tauntaun breeding program seems to be off to a good start."
"We already resorting to eatin' tauntauns?"
Rolling her eyes, Leia glanced at Han. "No, of course not. We're hoping that tauntauns raised in captivity will be easier to train. Our current herd has a wild streak and is easily startled. The naturalists think that, if the taunlets have early, positive exposure to sentients, they'll be more likely to trust their handlers."
"That'll make things so much easier," Luke said. "Patrolling right now is always a gamble. Half the herd spooks every time an engine fires up."
Han tapped his thumb against the edge of the table. Tension laced every muscle that Leia could see, and she imagined those that she couldn't see weren't much better. He swallowed the bite of stew he had been chewing and looked directly at her. "What happens when you have to leave this hellhole?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're raisin' tauntauns to ignore their survival instincts, and then you have to take off. They'll get snatched up by wampas as soon as you're gone."
Leia huffed softly. The idea was terrible, but…well… "If we're forced to leave the planet, we'll have far bigger things to worry about than tauntauns."
Han pressed his lips together in thin line. "Seems cruel is all, teachin' 'em to fight the instincts that keep 'em safe and leaving 'em without even knowing how to tell what's dangerous. You just goin' about life like usual while they're left to be gutted."
Leia raised her eyebrows slightly. "Let me say it another way: if we're forced to leave this base — the one we've spent the better part of two years building — it is unlikely the tauntauns will even be alive by the time we're off the planet." She shook her head slightly. "We're not leaving this place unless we absolutely have to."
"Speak for yourself," Han muttered.
A spike of panic pierced Leia's chest. Is he thinking of leaving? She glanced at Luke, who either hadn't heard Han or was doing a really good job of controlling his reactions.
Before she had a chance to ask Han to confirm what he had said, Luke changed the subject. "Dak and Samoc said they spotted a wampa closer to base than usual this morning."
Chewie glared playfully at Han. [I told you I smelled one.]
Han rolled his eyes and waved his copilot off. "Yeah, yeah. We're all aware of your superior senses." He turned abruptly to look directly at Leia. "Lemme guess, Worship: you got some half-assed plan to keep 'em away that has a fifty percent chance of some ensign endin' up as dinner?"
Leia bristled and scowled at him, the barb stinging more than she let on. "We're going to install sensors tomorrow that'll alert us if they breach a particular perimeter."
"Then what?"
"What?"
"They trigger a sensor, and…what's the plan after that?"
Leia clenched and unclenched her jaw, her eyes dropping to stare at the remains of her stew. "I don't—"
"Don't got one, huh? Just like everything else around here. Never have a solid plan for anything."
Eyes blazing, Leia looked up again to really study Han's face. He was being so combative. This wasn't like in the past when he'd had actual objections to plans; he seemed to be jumping on any available opportunity to pick at her.
"Leia can't be in charge of every little thing that happens on base, Han," Luke said irritably.
"The naturalists and the ground crew are working together to come up with a plan." Leia ran her thumbnail across the side of her knuckle. "The wampas are likely more willing to stray from their usual territory because of the time of year since the wild tauntaun herds have migrated from the area. Last year, we didn't have tauntauns on the premises during the winter. We think their scent is piquing the interest of the wampas. We knew this was a possibility, and we already installed sensors once, but half of them failed during a squall and haven't come back online. We'll be able to further develop a plan when we have a better idea of the wampas' intent when they venture so close to base, and when we're able to get the sensors placed."
"Another kriffing Indoumodo, is what this'll end up being," Han muttered.
Leia flinched at the mention of the disastrous outpost. Chewie let out a warning sort of whine and looked toward her. She pressed her lips together tightly and stared at Han coldly.
"I assure you, Captain Solo, we learned our lesson on Indoumodo." She rose, rinsed her bowl in the sink, dried it, and returned it to its place in the cabinet before turning her attention back to the table. "I think I'm going to turn in early while I have the chance," she said. She looked at Chewie, who wore a concerned expression. "We'll have to break our tie another day."
Han closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, letting out a defeated sigh. "Leia—"
"Thank you for dinner," she interrupted as politely as possible. She looked to Luke, who had half risen from his seat, flustered and confused. "And thank you for the invitation, Luke. Don't leave early on my account."
Leia walked quickly toward the Falcon's ramp, a coiling spring of frustration, hurt, and anger twisting in her belly. I shouldn't have gone. Han clearly hadn't been expecting her, and he certainly hadn't wanted her around. She felt she should have known that the evening would take a turn, though she was confused about the particular turn it had taken.
Han had seemed angry with her. She couldn't recall him baiting her quite so aggressively in the past. It had been a clear attempt to get some sort of reaction out of her, but Leia didn't understand what his motivation was. She wondered if he even knew what he was trying to do.
It was far too early for her to attempt to sleep, so Leia reviewed her schedule for the next day on her datapad once she arrived in her quarters. Within a few minutes, she felt restless enough to consider popping by the Command Center just to see how the night crew was doing. Before she could open her door, though, her comm chimed.
Han.
Leia hit the button to answer, but when she opened her mouth to say something — anything — she couldn't think of any words she particularly wanted to say. She settled for a simple, terse, "Yes?"
"Look, Leia, I'm…" He trailed off, seemingly unable to utter an apology.
Leia sighed softly, her heart aching.
"You need help with the sensors in the morning? Luke an' I were talkin', and we can get it done if no one's been assigned yet."
She chewed her bottom lip, wary of merely interacting with Han at this point. He kept turning hostile seemingly out of nowhere, and the lack of predictability was wearing.
"Princess?" he prodded after a moment of silence.
Leia cleared her throat. "Let General Rieekan know in the morning. I'm sure we'll be glad for the help."
Han hesitated. "About tonight—"
"Thank you for the offer, Captain," Leia said woodenly. Her heart and mind were far too muddled to have a coherent and productive conversation with him right then.
"Right. Yeah. Sure. G'night, Leia."
"Goodnight."
Leia disconnected the comm connection and sat on her bunk, pressing her teeth gently into her knuckle. She couldn't begin to understand Han any longer. One minute, he was using whatever cruelty was necessary to get a reaction out of her; the next, he was offering to perform menial tasks around base. If his goal had been to cause her distress, his mission had certainly been accomplished.
She didn't know what he wanted from her.
Chewie knocked on her door early the next morning, a solid hour before her shift began. Leia had woken far too early and had stopped contemplating forcing herself back to sleep several hours prior. She was in the middle of reading overnight reports while sipping instant caf when he asked to come in.
The Wookiee filled the space of her small quarters but made due sitting in one of her chairs while Leia sat on her bunk. She looked at Chewie with a mixture of sadness and compassion. He appeared distressed. "What is it, Chewie?" she asked, willing herself to remain calm, willing herself to not ask after Han.
[I am not sure, but I think Cub intends for us to leave very soon, he said.
Leia blinked rapidly, panic flaring in her chest. Han's comment from the night before rose to the front of her mind. "Leave?" she clarified. "You mean leave the Alliance?"
Chewie nodded. [It is a pattern. He gets restless or hurt and he begins to cut ties to make sure everyone will be relieved when he's gone.]
"I don't think anyone will be relieved to have you two leave," Leia said, unsure if she was telling the truth. Not having to see Han, not having to wonder what he was going to say and do, not having to attempt to figure out how he expected her to interact with him when everything she did and said seemed to frustrate him…that would certainly relieve some tension. But not knowing what happened to him, to Chewie, never knowing if they managed to pay off Jabba or if the Empire caught up to them…It sounded like something akin to torture to Leia.
[He lashes out when he wants to distance himself. I think…I think it is so he never has to admit that someone didn't want to be around him because of who he is. He causes the rifts so he can tell himself it was on purpose.]
Leia's chin wobbled. "Yes, well, he is doing an excellent job of that."
[I think he has been hurt by how well you are taking things. Your separation, I mean.]
A mirthless laugh escaped Leia's mouth. "Oh, does he need me to fall apart to save his ego?" she snapped. "I have jobs to do. I can't even think about any of that right now much less spend my energy mourning publicly."
Chewie held up his furry hands in a gesture of surrender. [I am not saying you've done anything wrong. I am only trying to explain.] He hesitated. [Did Cub ever tell you how we met? The actual story?]
Leia furrowed her brow. "I don't think so." She shook her head. Every story Han had told about meeting Chewie had been an obvious fabrication, meant to entertain and distract.
[He doesn't like to tell my story for me, though I would not have minded you knowing.]
They had been on Mimban — Chewie as a slave of the Empire, Han as a Corporal. Mimban had been the punishment after being court martialed. Han had been shoved into a pit with Chewie when he was caught attempting to abandon his station.
[They intended for me to tear him limb from limb as his execution for desertion, and I would have. I was so angry, just seeing his uniform filled me with rage. But he knew a little Shyriiwook and was able to convince me to follow him instead. We were able to escape. He helped free me from the Empire and I swore a life debt to him.]
"Life debt?" Leia asked. She knew of the phrase, but also knew it had different implications across cultures. She wasn't sure what the specifics of Wookiee life debts entailed.
[Yes, I am committed to him for life. He doesn't like it, but it is very important to my culture and to me personally. It is a matter of honor.]
She recalled one of the first conversations she'd had with Han, when she had asked how he knew so much about Imperial torture as he tended to her Death Star wounds.
I was a Corporal in the Army. After I got kicked out of Carida. Didn't much care for either. Bailed pretty quick.
'Bailed' like went AWOL?
'Bailed' like took some property that wasn't theirs to begin with after being given a death sentence and disappeared.
The property that Leia had wondered about at the time should have never been owned by anyone. The property was Chewie.
She felt a strong desire to hug the Wookiee, but refrained. He seemed deep in thought, as if weighing whether or not to say more.
[When I first explained the life debt to him, he said, 'We will see how long that lasts, friend. I seem to be easy to leave.' He played it off like a joke, but I have known him for over a decade now, and I do not think it was a joke. I think he still believes that to this day.]
Leia knew some things were altered in translation, that the wording likely wasn't exact. She imagined Han had said something closer to 'We'll see about that, pal.' But she could almost hear the words 'I seem to be easy to leave' in his self-deprecating tone, the way he spoke about himself when he didn't want to be speaking about himself at all. The idea caused her chest to ache.
[You have not done anything wrong, Princess, but I think seeing you react so calmly to everything that has happened has only confirmed every bad thing he believes to be true about himself.] Chewie paused. [He is still being a bantha's ass, though. I yell at him daily about it.]
Leia chuckled softly. She looked down at her hands and shook her head. "Chewie, I can't make him stay if he wants to leave."
Chewie warbled softly in agreement. [I know. I just did not want you to think it was your fault when it's his own problems causing him to run.]
Leia stood and hugged Chewie. "Thank you."
The Wookiee returned the hug exuberantly, the pressure forcing air from Leia's lungs. [I will miss you the most, Princess.]
Minutes before her shift started, Leia left her quarters feeling conflicted. She knew she couldn't make Han stay and she hoped Chewie was mistaken. But, in case he wasn't…She could talk to him at least, let him know that she wasn't heartless, that she cared for him. That concession from her might at least put a stop to his increasingly hostile reactions.
He and Luke were already out on tauntauns, placing sensors around the perimeter of the base that would alert the Command Center to nearby movement. Their patrol shift was only a couple of hours — they had to switch out often due to the extreme cold. She would talk to Han when he came in, maybe.
Leia walked into the Command Center, greeting others quietly as she went. She smiled when she saw Carlist engrossed in something on a datapad — a report from the night before, she assumed. The Command Center was relatively quiet with only the hum of equipment and the occasional murmurings between workstations breaking through the silence. Everyone looked alert and relieved to finally be on base with most of their fellow Alliance members.
The base is operational, Leia thought in the direction of her parents as she walked past screens and workstations. We're here and we're ready to finish what you started.
The work had been almost untenable, and it would continue to be for some time, but they were there, and they were rising back up after repeated setbacks. They would continue to forge ahead until the Empire finally met its demise.
As long as Leia had breath in her lungs, the Alliance would endure.
A/N: This is the final chapter of this massive project, buuuuut I couldn't just leave Leia and Han in the emotionally distressed state we see them in at the beginning of The Empire Strikes Back, so click on to the next chapter for Trip-to-Bespin-Era epilogue that is probably far too long to be an epilogue :).