Trigger warning for only this chapter: There is a brief, non-graphic discussion of rape.
"I'm sorry, Han, but I need to hear it from you. What exactly are your plans once we reach the Rebel fleet?"
Sensing a renewal of her argument that she should accompany him to Tatooine, Han sighed heavily. "I see what you're gettin' at, but Sweetheart, if you came with me, you'd be a distraction. You don't know, but I do, what Jabba would do to you if he ever got his slimy hands on you. He's all about demoralizing, debasing. He'd humiliate you, violate you, have you gang raped in front of me. That's not an exaggeration. It's a whole other sick level of torture he's got going on."
"Han, I forged a career within diplomatic relief efforts, not only in the pleasant and peaceful places but on a galaxy-wide scale. I've worked with refugees, former slaves, and victims of trafficking. I'm not entirely naïve as to the ways of the Hutts," was Leia's measured reply. Yet there was something haunted, something that even spoke of trauma, on Han's face that gave her pause.
"I'm not saying you're naïve, Leia. Far from it. You've experienced firsthand enough of evil to break most beings — sure as kriff would've broke me. But even for a Hutt, Jabba's an especially sick bastard with his own brand of sexual sadism I hope you never have to find out about…No one should ever have to."
Han hesitated. And there was that tormented look again.
It was clear to Leia that he wanted to unburden himself about something, but whatever is was he deemed it so horrible, he was reluctant — no, ashamed — to tell her.
"I saw it with my own eyes, Leia," he finally divulged. "You've questioned why I say I'll never be good enough for you, it's 'cause of stories like this."
Han looked away, scratching at the back of his neck uncomfortably, could feel the hot guilt prickling there. He recognized his outlook on life had changed since meeting her, but even back then he'd been deeply compunctious about what happened that night. It was even worse now, admitting it to someone as good and decent as Leia, someone whose good opinion he desperately wanted even though he knew he didn't deserve it.
"I shouldn't've ever been working for scum like Jabba in the first place, and I always knew it," he began, wanted that out there straightaway. "The slave girls, the dancers, the live rancor feedings — that was all bad enough to show me what he was. It should've put me off. It did Chewie, but I overruled him and because of the life debt, he lets me have my way. But this…that night was something else."
He shook his head, and she wondered if he was going to stop there. "You can tell me," she reassured him, reaching out and taking his hand. "You can tell me anything and it won't change the way I feel."
"Maybe it should," he said cryptically.
Now, Leia was the one to shake her head. "I don't think so," she affirmed confidently.
Han was afraid he was about to disillusion her, but he was too far into it now. He took a deep breath and dove ahead. "There was this low-level smuggler; honestly don't remember the guy's name, never really knew him. He was stupid enough to try to double-cross the cartel, and even stupider to make such a dodgy, reckless move when he had a family. First thing the Hutts'll do is come after your family," he told her, and Leia nodded; that part she was fully aware of.
"Jabba knows how to hit where it hurts," Han continued ominously, "and he ain't above anything. He had the guy's wife brought to his court, stripped naked and laid out right there on the floor in his throne room, with everyone watching. Jabba had men making sure the husband had to watch, and more men holding down the wife, said they were gonna take turns with her. I don't know, I didn't stick around to see, but I'm sure it was cruel and violent. I was there long enough to witness one of his Gamorrean guards take a piss on her, and Fett — the same Fett who almost had his hands on you — was lining up behind, and it wasn't his bladder he was looking to relieve. So yeah, I have every reason to believe Jabba made good on the threat; for all I know, he might've fed her to the rancor afterwards. And this was entertainment for him, for the whole sick lot of fuckers; that's what goes down there. I decided right then, I didn't care how good the money was, I was cuttin' ties with Jabba. I took off and went to get Chewie."
Han met Leia's eyes again, hoping she would perceive his genuine regret, begging her to believe the truth in his next statement. "If there was anything I could've done to help her, I swear I would've. I still can see her desperate look of panic — and she wasn't even in this shit like we were; hadn't done anything wrong, just made the mistake of gettin' involved with the wrong man. But this wasn't like with Chewie. A handful of stormtroopers is one thing; there, I was surrounded. No way I would've gotten out alive. And killing me wouldn't've stopped them for doing what they did to her. Probably would have endangered Chewie, too, after the fact. There wasn't anything I could do but leave. I wanted to run straight out that night, clear off Tatooine, and never look back, but the Falcon was already loaded up for a spice run. Even if we'd've ditched the product there, Jabba would've had my head, Chewie's too, for going back on the deal. We both decided the best course was to make one last run and then end it with the Hutt on decent terms that wouldn't have us hunted all across the galaxy." The irony was that was exactly what ended up happening anyway. "Naturally, that 'last run' happened to be one of the only times in my life I got boarded. And you know the rest of the story…"
Leia took a beat, a moment to compose her thoughts, to formulate her response. She could tell he was raptly waiting on her reaction, though possibly 'dreading' was a better word.
"Han, that's…terrible." Even with the vast lexicon of her expert communication skills, it just plainly boiled down to that. "That's appalling, truly awful, I won't pretend it's not. But if you expect me to say I'm shocked by it, well, I'm not. Perhaps I should be, but as you said, I've seen…so much of evil. Certainly, anyone, everyone, should be aghast and horrified by that account, simply on a moral level of compassion and empathy for other beings. But I've both witnessed and personally experienced too many of the atrocities of the galaxy to be shocked anymore by any egregious act one being is capable of perpetrating on another."
"As for your personal connection," she went on, certain that was the part that truly haunted Han, "no, you shouldn't have been working for Jabba. I'll allow a certain degree of guilt by association in that you should have chosen a better employer, but that is where any personal fault or responsibility begins and ends. We all make mistakes. It's the mark of a decent being who learns from them and makes the appropriate changes to their life. You know that half of the Alliance used to be Imperials. If anything, this story only reinforces my belief in your inherent goodness. Being physically present doesn't mean you're capable of stopping an atrocity, or else Alderaan would still be here. But with Chewie, and with this woman, and on the Death Star, and at Yavin, and at a million other times in myriad other places, you saw wrongs being committed and you made the right choices, you did everything in your power that could be done to make those appropriate changes for the good."
"I don't know…" Han shrugged, clearing his throat gruffly. "I don't think I can let myself off the hook as easy as that…but I'd like to think what you just said is true. I'm glad you think so. But the whole point of telling you that story was so that you'd understand why I'm so terrified of bounty hunters getting to you," he admitted the less than macho sentiment. "Why I don't want you anywhere near Jabba's Palace, without or with me. I don't want to leave you behind, but if you came with me, the whole time I'd be worrying about your safety. It would cloud every move I made. Truth is, Leia, you'd be a liability."
As much as she wanted to, Leia couldn't argue with that. She'd seen it enough with her own eyes on missions, how he prioritized her welfare over the good of their end goal. She knew Han was confident in her ability to take care of herself, viewed her as formidable and fierce in battle — and when the things she loved were threatened, she did have the capacity to be every bit as lethal as their most vicious foes. But logic couldn't battle emotion; she'd been learning that lesson ever since they met. If her well-being was always at the center of Han's mind, he wouldn't be free to focus on his own. He wouldn't be as capable of brokering the sort of fast-thinking, fast-talking deal he would need in order to get out of this bind.
In the end, though she hated it, Leia knew that Han was right: he would function in this better if she weren't there, if he could imagine her far away from those sordid dangers and safe within the protection of the Alliance and its fleet.
"All right. Let's say I concede that point," she allowed. "Let's say I don't go with you; I stay on Home One. You go off to pay Jabba, and you refuse any Alliance help. For the purposes of this discussion, I'll assume the best-case scenario and it goes relatively quickly and painlessly. Your debt is discharged, you're able to leave Tatooine, and then…? What happens then?" Will you come back to me? was the unspoken question she didn't dare vocalize.
"And then I'll find you," Han finished simply, instantly, categorically. "I'll do what I have to do to be free of Jabba, and then I'll fight like hell to get back to you."
"You will?"
Leia's voice was awash with such intense hope that it stabbed at Han's heart. "With everything I got."
He assumed the hope he heard plainly in her words was directed at the thought of him beating the odds and escaping Jabba easily and unscathed, the way they'd just described. But now, as he studied her expression further — the hesitant but heartened upturn of her lips, the look of assuagement, the relieved tears beginning to pool in her eyes — Han was floored.
"Wait — kriff — Sweetheart," he said, all in quick succession, on a breath stolen from him as it sank in. "You didn't think I was coming back?"
"So—so then…what you're saying is you do firmly plan to return to the Alliance once you can?" Leia ventured carefully.
"I plan to return to you," he underscored incredulously. "Damn straight, I plan to return to you. I can't believe—" Han shook his head, dumbfounded. "You really thought I was going and never coming back?" He was staggered by the very concept.
"Well, I—I hoped you'd come back, but you never said you would," Leia replied, feeling the need to justify herself now that she'd seen how stunned he was. "For years it was always, 'I got one foot out the door, Princess'," she imitated, "or, 'I'm leaving and not lookin' back'. So it wasn't such a wild leap to make. There was never one word from you that you might consider returning again afterwards, wherever it was you swore you were running off to that particular day."
"But you still thought that? Now? After all this time? After everything?"
"I didn't want to wrongly assume that—"
"Of course I'd come back to you." Anything else was unthinkable to him. "Kest, Leia, I—"
He stopped short, concerned the declaration that was about to pour from him so easily and completely might be met with a degree of reservation after her talk of keeping some emotional distance between them. He switched to kissing her instead, pouring his heart and soul into that and hoping it would impart what he was feeling.
"When haven't I come back?" Han softly established once they parted. "Wouldn't be able to stop myself from coming back to you. I know, 'cause for a long time the way I felt about you scared the shit out of me and my impulse was to cut out and never look back. But not one single damn time could I make myself do it."
Leia leaned in and pressed her lips to his again sweetly. "You do have something of a reputation for sticking around with us, no matter how awful a planet we end up on," she archly credited.
"Yeah, and why'd you think that was?" Han smirked. "Highness, the better question is, if you thought I was about to leave for good — no intention of ever seeing you again — what are we doing here?" He gestured to the two of them, lounging on a bed together half naked. "Why didn't you tell me to fuck off that first time I kissed you in the circuity bay?"
"Because I wanted you to come back. I still hoped I could convince you somehow not to go, or at the very least, to return." Perhaps it wasn't wise to tip her hand, but there it was. "Because I didn't — I don't — want you to fuck off. I want you, even under abysmal terms."
"Now that I understand. Even back when you swore you hated me, even when I was furious with you, I still wanted you in my life," Han disclosed. "But just in case you got any doubts, let me give you my truth, Princess. I'll lay it out as simple as I can: if I didn't have to go, there's no way in all nine hells I'd be leavin' you. I don't got a choice, but it's only temporary, just a detour on the way to the main objective. And let me make this part very clear — my main objective, my end goal, everything I want is you, Leia."
Nothing could temper the appeal of that declaration, and Leia couldn't — didn't begin to want to — resist wrapping her arms around him once more, even as she pointed out, "But it's a dangerous detour, Han. All you keep saying is how dangerous Jabba is. Not just for me, but for you, too. Even if you want to come back, what if you can't?"
Han made a show of scoffing. "You think anything could keep me away from you? And hey, this is me we're talkin' about. I nearly shot Vader out of the sky — ace pilot, Lord of the Sith, asthmatic bastard himself. What's a Hutt compared to that?"
Her lips twitched in amusement as he'd hoped but stopped short of an actual smile under the weight of her further worries.
"You can't be sure of what will happen, though," Leia contested. "You're making light of it for my benefit, but we both know it will be difficult, highly hazardous, potentially lethal. You will likely be forced to make steep concessions just to get out of there alive. He's a Hutt; he may press you into some sort of indentured servitude as a means of payback, or simply to make an example of you. It happens all the time throughout the galaxy. I once sponsored a referendum back in the Senate to end—"
She shook her head, avoiding the impulse to launch into that impassioned tangent. "It doesn't matter. My point is this won't be an overnight jaunt, just hand him some credits and immediately blast off Tatooine. You may be gone for a considerable length of time."
It wasn't going to be easy convincing Jabba to let him off, even at double or triple payment of what he owned. Not after it had been so many years of avoidance that would read as disrespect to a Hutt, not after he'd been issued a death mark that would by now be known to the galaxy's bounty hunters. Han was already well-aware of the truth in the points she was making.
"That…could be," he conceded carefully, unsure where she was going with this, true though it may be.
"And you say you've been unable to leave me, but there's something to that you haven't considered," Leia contended. "Ever since we met, we've never been apart for any substantial amount of time. Whatever hold I have on you may diminish once we don't see each other anymore, once you're back to the life you knew before."
Not wanting it to sound accusatory, she put it on herself as an example. "Take me: I've grown accustomed to living in wartimes, to surviving on rations, sleeping in the dirt, dressing a wound in a back alley. That's my life now, and it's normal to me. But even though I've adapted to that and it's what's familiar and known to me now, how quickly would I revert back if I somehow found myself on Alderaan again, in my old rooms in the Summer Palace? It's not outside the realm of possibility, Han, that once it's been weeks, months, you may not miss me the way you say." That came off too much like she was suggesting he was lying, and she didn't think he was, so she altered it to, "The way you think you will now."
Han looked at her as if she'd suddenly become a troig and grown a second head. "With respect, that's bullshit, Leia. I don't care where I am or what I'm doing, I'm not going to forget you. I'm not going to stop wanting you. It's not familiarity. It's not just because you're here. It's because you're you. 'M not gonna revert back. What, I get off Jabba's hitlist and then just…run some more spice?" he ventured, going with her supposition. "Go back to smuggling whatever for whoever? Finding some random, willing female when I'm in port? I don't want that. That's a miserable life — it ain't a life. Kriff, do you think the way I used to live has any kind of appeal for me now? I'm not sure it ever did; I just did what I had to do to get by. But now? Even in the hellscape that was Hoth, I don't just get by anymore, Leia; I actually live. I feel. I'm fuckin' happy. Nothing compares to that. To you."
Another sobering thought abruptly occurred to Han, and as much as he didn't want it to be the reason, he had to ask. "Do you think you'll forget me? Is that why you're saying this? If I do have to be gone for a while, will I still matter to you? Or...or are you sayin' you'd want to move on?"
With a soft smile, Leia ran her hands up his shoulders to the nape of his neck, her fingers playing soothingly in his hair. "I'm not saying that at all, Han. I would never forget you. My scoundrel." She set her forehead to his for a moment before pulling back to fix warm, chocolate eyes on his. "If that happens and you are gone for weeks or months, even a year — it doesn't matter how long — I won't just 'move on'. I'll miss you every moment of every day. Anytime something funny happens, I'll want to tell you. Some upcoming battle or bit of combat strategy? I'll want to get your take on it. At the end of the day, I'll wish I could laugh with you over a bottle of Cornelian ale and a game of sabacc that's really only a thinly veiled excuse to spend time with you…to sit inappropriately close to you, touch your arm to prove a point and then happen to leave my hand there, 'accidently' brush my thigh against yours beneath the dejarik table. How could I not miss all of that? I could never forget."
"Neither could I," he guaranteed. "Kest." His hand went up to the back of her neck, pulling her to him suddenly and kissing her hard, imbuing all of himself into the kiss because he didn't know how else to make her feel it, make her understand the depth of what she meant to him. "It's like reachin' inside and ripping out an organ and telling me to walk away from it."
That left Leia freshly misty eyed and she promised around tears, "I will wait for you."
"And I will come back to you," Han vowed. "You don't ever have to worry about that. Before you know it, I'll be right back at your side. On Home One, or wherever else the Alliance has you by then. I'll find you."
"If you do—"
"When I do," he corrected. "When I do, I'll come back with a clean slate, Sweetheart. Ready for a fresh start." A future together. He'd be able to offer her that then.
"When you do come back…" Leia held his eyes sensually. "…we will make love." For her, it was a foregone conclusion — they would be together that way — resolved in her heart and mind since even before the botched Ord Mantel mission.
"I want it to be you, Han. My first time." Silently, she added, My every time, but that promise had deeper implications than he may be ready to hear, so she settled for a lesser but still revealing truth. "You're the only one I want to be with. I have no doubts about that at all. The very second you come back to stay, you'll find me in your bed, Captain."
Han needed no such incentive to return; nothing in the galaxy could keep him away from her, regardless. Still, all he could think was, What a promise to come home to. He broke out into a wide smile, somehow both blissful and incredibly sexy, as he pulled her in again.
His mouth claimed hers, tongues sliding slickly together in an erotic dance, and then he smirked against her lips. "Maybe I'll bring you back here…" He paused to kiss her again, unable and unwilling to stop himself. "Never thought much about romance until you, but this place sure fits the bill: gorgeous sunsets, luxury accommodations, indulgences all around." Han pulled back enough to catch her gaze with heated promise. "Makin' love on a cloud…"
Leia's grinned, amused. "High elevation, that's right up your alley, hmm, Flyboy?" she asked, nibbling at his lower lip.
"Back on the Falcon is most up my alley," he revised, and swooped down to run his open mouth over her neck.
The suction of his lips just below her collarbone was delicious. "Why am I not surprised?" she teased with a amiable roll of her eyes. "I'm sure there's a long, worn trail to your specially customized, oversized bunk."
Han brought his face back up to hers, giving her a strange look, and she felt an immediate spike of regret. "I didn't mean any offense by that. I wasn't saying it in a bad way, about your past or—"
"It's not that. It's just…funny. Ironic. 'Cause I didn't customize the room with an oversized bunk; Lando did. It was already like that when I won her. And, Highness, here's something else: since the Falcon's been mine, you're the only one who's ever been in that room," he revealed.
"What?" she said around a smile of disbelief. "You're joking." She was certain he was.
"'M not," he persisted seriously.
"You've never had a woman in your bed? I don't believe it."
"Ask Chewie," Han vouched. "Not in my bed, not anywhere onboard. I meant what I said earlier about not trusting beings on my ship; I've never had sex there. The Falcon, most of all my bunkroom, is personal. On Kashyyyk, there's a saying that roughly translates to, The home is a sacred space. I figure that's especially true if you've never had one. Now, I ain't a saint; I won't pretend to be. I didn't want that brought back home but I found plenty of fun in backrooms of cantinas, tapcafes, rundown motels, speeders — hells, alleyways — any seedy place available; I was lucky if she took me back to hers. But I never let any of 'em in my room, my bed. Until you," he acknowledged with meaning.
"I'm really the only one?" Leia sought to confirm, her eyes alight with gratification at the thought, the exclusivity of it — a particularly pleasing fact when the long list of her firsts were never his.
"You are," Han confirmed. "And, yeah, that means something. Both the exclusion of them and the inclusion of you…I've had an awful lot of fantasies of you and me in my room, on my bed — and on the floor, against the wall, in the shower."
A look of intense yearning played across his face, and for a moment Leia could suddenly see quick flashes of those fantasies dancing through her mind's eye.
"That makes it my go-to place to consummate this, but I'll take you wherever I can get you, Sweetheart," Han said in a husky whisper, lowering his mouth back to hers.
The near-kiss was interrupted by her breathy retort, "Oh, you will take me. In quite a few 'wherevers' and many, many 'whenevers'."
A low, hungry, almost agonized sound rumbled from Han's throat and his hands slid to her hips. "Say 'take me' again, baby. Soft and slow, at least a dozen more times. It's straight out of a dream."
That was the first time he'd ever called her 'baby' in passion, a particular endearment Leia had never imagined herself enjoying. But the achingly tender, low and intimate way he said it swiftly changed her mind. She didn't question this surprising new predilection, however, only gave over to it.
Because, indeed, he did look so truly affected by hearing that phrase from her lips that she was the one to bring their mouths crashing back together, fitting and pressing her body to his.
"As soon as you get back," Leia conveyed in a seductive alto murmur between kisses, "I'll let you into my sacred space."
She expected a laugh. Instead, Han gave a devastated grunt, as if struck to his core. "Holy hells, Leia," he groaned, breaking from her mouth to launch a devouring trail down her neck.
It was easy to forget anything else for a while other than how good he made her feel. But several long moments later, Leia attempted to recover the conversation. "I'm being serious though, Haaan." She'd intended it to sound decisive, but right as she'd said it, he'd begun sucking a particularly erogenous area near the base of her throat, supplementing the suction with the skillfully erotic use of his teeth, and his name came out a silky beseeching murmur. "I really mean it, the moment you're back."
"I know you mean it. Now sigh my name like that again — gods, you're incredible!" Han ran his tongue over her skin, not missing her resulting tremor of pleasure.
"I suggest you hurry back to the Alliance as quickly as you can," Leia entreated, for her sake just as much as his.
"You better believe I will. And once I've paid off Jabba and meet back up with the fleet, the rest of the galaxy'll just have to take care of itself for a while. 'Cause I'm getting you alone. Just you and me, no clothes in sight. We're taking at least a standard week off from the Rebellion to do nothin' but each other."
"Yes. Definitely. That's exactly what we're doing," she sighed, taking his mouth again.