Leia's intention for the morning had been to take a quick shower and then promptly see to her share of locating Threepio, but the Cloud City freshers were as decked-out as everything else in the suite, and just as she'd done the night before in the opulent tub, Leia gave in to the allure of the lavish shower and indulged in some quality self-care time. After all, they'd been trapped in sublight for more than a month, and while the Falcon was blessedly appointed with a real water shower, conservation of resources had to be the top priority, limiting them to weeks on end of nothing but sonics.
It was both soothing and invigorating to luxuriate in the hot water, treating herself to a slow scalp massage while working in expensive, top-tier shampoo and conditioning products such as she hadn't had access to since before Yavin. She relished the pampering, immersed in lush fragrant scents, basking in the pleasantly humid air.
She had reached the pinnacle of relaxation, as if she were floating on a cloud of tranquility, when all at once Leia was violently wrenched from her state of quietude. Certainly psychologically, but bodily, too. Something in her actually jolted; she felt it, like a punch to the gut.
Blind panic set in on its heels, a feeling for which Leia had no context. Everything in the shower stall was as it had been. There was no one around, nothing that had happened to alarm or upset her. Nevertheless, she was upset, awash in an instant state of anxious turmoil.
The fact that it was so unaccounted for did nothing to ease her distress. She could see that not one thing was amiss within the fresher, and no wider noises coming from the bedroom beyond — indeed, nothing perceptible at all that should have made her fearful. And yet, something was alerting her.
More than that…something was telling her to run.
A fight-or-flight adrenaline had taken over Leia's body, her heart now pounding and legs beginning to shake under a terrible sense of foreboding. It was as if everything in her was flashing a giant DANGER sign.
She had no way of knowing — wouldn't figure out until many months later — that she'd subconsciously tapped into the Force, or the Force had tapped into her subconscious, warning her that at that very moment the Executor hovered in orbit above Bespin and a TIE Advanced x1 had just landed in Cloud City.
Physically and mentally reeling, Leia reached out for the nozzle to cut off the water when she was suddenly no longer in the shower. The shower stall, the fresher, the hotel suite — it all blinked out and transformed.
And she was back in the same steam-shrouded room that had featured so heavily in her recent nightmares.
Han was there with her, as he always was, but this time her point of view wasn't nearly as contained. While she still couldn't make out any discerning details of where they might be, she could see that the space was a vast, wide-open room of some sort. They were surrounded by walls of blue light in a chamber built around a central sphere.
Not only did Leia not know where this room was, she didn't know what this room was. She had never seen a space like it before and couldn't guess its purpose.
The environment was foreign and strange, but there was one well-known feature she could both feel and see: she was wearing her snowsuit from Hoth. She looked down to try to give herself some further clues, anything recognizable that could tell her where they were, but whatever ground they were standing on was obscured by that now-familiar, orange-tinted fog rising and curling into the air. Or was it a mist? It reminded her of the innards of the space slug where she and Han had shared their first kiss. Though the ground beneath them here felt unsteady in a different way; not wobbly or uneven, but the same feeling as walking up a ship's ramp. It was as if they were elevated, balancing over some great, gaping precipice.
Although she didn't know where they were, what Leia did know was it was no place she wanted them to be. The atmosphere was rife with tension. No, not merely tension; tension would have been an improvement. She wasn't tense, she was afraid. She was terrified, though trying hard not to let it be known. Fear was the dominant sensation, and it overwhelmed her. She felt as if she was choking on it: fear, helplessness, and desperation.
Han stepped in front of her, and their gazes held fast to each other. But, as in these same visions before, he didn't reach out and hold her, didn't offer words of reassurance or comfort as he ordinarily would. He only stood there, looking at her intensely.
And the fear — such a deep and desolate despair — encompassed her, dragging her down like a gravity well, the weight of it consuming her.
In a sudden flash, Leia realized that the fear and despair she felt wasn't for herself, it was for Han.
She reached out for him frantically, grasping his arm as distress seeped into her very being. They had lived and fought together, skirting the edge of death for years. It should come as no surprise that it would finally catch up to them, yet her mind refused to accept that this could be happening.
She was intensely distraught, overtaken by an anguish so deep the only feeling that could begin to compare was when she had watched Alderaan shatter to pieces before her very eyes. Just as in that moment, she would do anything — give anything — to change this state they were in, to make it not be so. But she was powerless to stop it.
And Han could only look at her — his gaze held fast to her — with an achingly profound pain and sadness in his eyes, in his very soul.
Then, just as abruptly as her atmosphere had first changed, Leia crashed back into herself. Back into the here and now, back in the shower, in the fresher, in their suite in Cloud City.
Disoriented and winded, she fell back against the heated tiles and inadvertently directly beneath the spray, where she drew in a mouthful of liquid. She sputtered and coughed, slamming her hand over the controls to kill the water.
For several long minutes, Leia just stood there, dazed, and catching her breath. She stood there until her heart returned to its normal rhythm. She stood there until she was shivering, still dripping wet in the rapidly cooling air.
Self-preservation eventually kicked in and she reached for a towel, pulled herself together enough to dry off and begin dressing for the day.
As she went about her ingrained morning routine and time distanced her from…whatever had happened, Leia tried to put the vision — the whole strange episode — from her mind. She'd had vivid nightmares countless times, had even experienced waking ones like this, once or twice. Her Alliance-mandated therapist swore she was remarkably well-adjusted 'given the circumstances', but she was being treated for acute PTSD that manifested in sometimes hallucinatory nightmares and panic attacks. In that regard, what she'd just experienced wasn't so new or out of the ordinary, and she told herself to simply go on, the way she always did.
She went out into the main room and began making comms in an effort to locate Threepio, but she found it was a struggle to move on from the incident. Her thoughts kept unerringly returning to it. That, combined with the fact that not a single soul seemed to know what had become of the droid, did nothing to help the general feeling of anxiety that had now firmly settled upon her.
Just as when they first landed, Leia didn't like this.
She didn't like it one bit. Something about it felt alarmingly off.
Perhaps it was because it was always easier for her to think rationally when not in the same room as Han, but her bad feeling had increased a millionfold since he left. It had gone from 'suspicious' into what she would now categorize as undeniably 'ominous'.
She was so anxious that Leia began pacing the room, needing to do something with the nervous energy that had built up. Her mind kept running in circles. Was all this apprehension and anxiety because of some real danger here on Bespin? Perhaps something connected to Threepio's disappearance? Or was it all a manifestation of her pre-existing emotional trauma? Was she simply nervous because they were in a situation she couldn't control, surrounded by beings she hadn't vetted? And on the brink of Han's departure, another situation unhappily outside her control — and against everything she wished.
Leia strode back and forth before the window, no longer even taking in the gorgeous scenery. Her thoughts were too ensnared in the strange and terrifying vision she'd had in the shower. She couldn't dismiss the fact that it was yet another version of the dream she'd had right before deciding not to be intimate with Han — a dream that had heavily influenced that decision. It was impossible not to make the connection that, only this morning, she had changed her mind about them making love. Could that be what it was? Was this her subconscious reverting and trying to warn her that she was making the wrong choice?
Even within the vision itself, she'd recognized a parallel between that horrible, fear-filled room and the belly of the slug where they first kissed. That pointed to a correlation between this choking sense of foreboding and physical intimacies with Han.
But the problem with drawing that conclusion was she didn't feel like making love with Han would be the wrong choice. The understanding she'd reached within herself this morning still held firm; she had no conscious doubts. Besides, she'd had bad feelings surrounding Bespin before she changed her mind about the two of them going to bed together. She'd felt trepidation about Bespin long before they even arrived.
…Which, she had worked out last night, was likely due to Bespin's connection with Han's impending departure, not anything to do with the actual planet. Was this just that same uneasiness rearing its head surrounding Han leaving her to go off on his own and confront Jabba the Hutt? Maybe the disconcerting vision was some new sort of panic attack brought on by her underlying terror for Han's safety should he go forward with his plan.
With the Falcon's hyperdrive currently undergoing repairs, Han's departure was fast approaching. Leia couldn't pretend she didn't feel trepidation that they would never again see each other after that.
It seemed the most reasonable conclusion, then, that this was all about Han leaving.
However, while making a conscious effort to be levelheaded and logical in figuring this out, Leia could no longer so easily swallow that Threepio's disappearance was a perfectly normal and explainable thing. And that couldn't be a product of her fearful subconscious; she didn't invent the fact that he had vanished.
All in all, nothing concerning Threepio's mysterious whereabouts, or her feelings of foreboding since the strange incident in the shower, sat right with Leia. Whatever the cause, she was thoroughly spooked and itching to get off Bespin as soon as possible.
By the time Han came back, Leia's pacing had escalated to include hand ringing. Unfortunately for him, Han had no idea what he was walking into.
"The ship is almost finished. Two or three more things and we're in great shape," he announced cheerily, and had just enough time to appreciate how beautiful she looked in her pretty new pant-dress outfit before she rounded on him.
"The sooner the better," Leia declared adamantly.
Her need to leave this planet had become pressing. She didn't know what she had been thinking earlier, wanting to linger here and enjoy the amenities. Despite her recent epiphanies, they were still in danger; 'living in the now' didn't equate to living irresponsibly. With their lives on the line, they couldn't afford to be careless, and remaining in this unsecured place purely for personal pleasure was certainly that.
"Something's wrong here." She felt enough conviction to voice that part aloud, if not the rest of it. "No one has seen or knows anything about Threepio."
Now it was Han who was left reeling, struggling to comprehend what had altered Leia's mood so fully. She'd been in good spirits, playful and flirtatious, when he left for the Falcon. He thought she'd be pleased when he gave her the indisputably positive news that the ship was nearly ready. Instead, something had clearly gotten her all worked up between then and now — she even wagged her finger at him, stealing his move! — and he couldn't fathom the cause. While it was true there had been no word of Threepio, he still didn't believe anything dire had happened to the droid, and when he last saw her, Leia had been of the same mind.
This seemed like a massive overreaction to simply not knowing where Goldenrod was at the moment, and there was a time when Han would have allowed himself to respond with frustration. But being in a relationship, loving Leia at all — waiting more than three years for a kiss — had taught him patience. In that time, he'd grown enough to appreciate that acting with care and sensitivity always served him best with her.
"Hey," he started, but Leia cut him off, full of frenetic energy.
"He's been gone too long to have gotten lost," she insisted.
This was classic agitated Leia, preparing for the worst, like when a contact hadn't showed or a mission was going poorly. But no one could deny they made an excellent team in the field, and with experience, Han had perfected how to slot into damage control mode and diffuse a wired and anxious Leia. Now that they were romantically involved as well, that brought a whole new layer of emotional and physical reassurance to the table and he utilized that privilege of intimacy now, reaching out to gently take ahold of her shoulders and press a tender kiss to her forehead.
Though he could feel the rigid tension in her body, Leia turned her face upward into his kiss, accepting his quietening comfort even through her uneasiness. "Relax," he softly encouraged and moved a soothing hand up to cup the side of her face, his fingers smoothing over her ear as his thumb lightly stroked her cheek. "I'll talk to Lando and see what I can find out."
Han's tender consolation was a palliative tonic for Leia — until he brought up his old friend. Because that was another thing. No one had seen or heard from him, either. Something was off about Lando, too; she sensed it. He was too slick, too smarmy and ingratiating. She felt a particularly heightened degree of vitriol towards the man that might appear unwarranted given their interactions thus far, but her estimation of Lando was as involuntary as it was sure. Leia had known plenty of beings like him during her time in the Senate. Men like him always had their own agenda, were always working a private angle to their own benefit, oftentimes heedless of the cost.
"I don't trust Lando," she told Han bluntly. Weary of her pacing, she sank down onto the nearest double chair.
"Well, I don't trust him either," Han replied with exaggerated flourish and a near-bow as he moved to sit down beside her. "But he is my friend."
The U-shape of the room's furniture conveniently allowed them to sit face-to-face, nearly in one another's laps. He was so close, his familiar and evocative scent eliciting a response in her that was both comforting and stimulating. Most of all, it was impossible to stay upset in the face of sweet, almost goofy Han. It had the mollifying effect he'd hoped for; Leia felt herself calming, the anxiety beginning to ebb and recede in the face of his warm affection.
Seeing the soft smile playing at her lips, Han's tone gentled further, matching her open reception, hoping to recapture a bit of their earlier mood. "Besides, we'll soon be gone." They wouldn't have to think about Lando anymore once they were cocooned again in their private world of the Falcon.
However, mention of their imminent departure had the reverse impact upon Leia: it brought back the image of that menacing, blue-lit room; it made her think of him leaving her there as he flew away from the Rebel fleet. "And then you're as good as gone, aren't you?"
Han's face sobered immediately and he broke eye contact, his gaze falling first and then his whole head. When he looked back up at her, guilt, shame, and wariness weighed heavy on his expression, and Leia felt instant remorse for the dig.
She sighed deeply, at herself and the situation as a whole. "I'm sorry. That was dirty sabacc. I know it's not how you want things either, and you already feel badly about it, and it has nothing to do with our current troubles. I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm just…out of sorts, I think. This business with Threepio has me back on edge, and I'm feeling—" Leia didn't like admitting to the weakness, but it was there all the same and it would do neither of them good denying it. "I'm feeling panicky about…everything."
Han easily saw through that last bit of dancing around what she didn't want to say. "What you mean is you're feeling panicky about me, isn't that right?"
She met his eye with a raised brow and a reluctant light in hers, but she didn't deny it, and though he dreaded what the answer would be — a part of him had just been waiting for her to say it was a mistake — Han still wanted to know. "Do you regret it? Last night?" Then a broader thought occurred to him. "Or...maybe you regret us gettin' involved at all?"
"No."
The fact that she answered so quickly, seemingly sure enough not to need time to consider it, was gratifying. But Han wasn't entirely convinced. This was Leia, after all. She harbored a boatload of trauma, none of which was her fault but all of which meant that nothing was easy with her. She was terrified of feeling, and last night had certainly demonstrated that she felt a lot for him.
"No, Han," Leia reiterated, reaching out to touch his hand first, then his leg, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. "My mind is made up; I'm not going to change it. I don't regret last night. I don't regret this morning. I don't regret you. I could never regret you. I don't regret any of it, except waiting as long as we have. I still want more with you. I still think we should make the most of every moment we have left. I'm only—" She bit her lower lip, unexpectedly choked up just mentioning the limited time they had remaining.
She hadn't planned on getting into any of this, and now that they were, between thinking of Han leaving, Threepio's disappearance, and the strange waking nightmare she'd had earlier, Leia's emotions were raw and laid open. She felt vulnerable in a way that she hated. But years of being involved with Han in one way or another had taught her that her instinct to evade and suppress any kind of inconvenient, uncomfortable, or complicated feelings often didn't serve anyone's best interest, least of all her own. So, despite her urge to flee from confronting it, she faced her feelings head-on. "I don't regret anything with you, I just don't want you to go."
The depth of sadness in her tone pained Han, and he laid his hand over hers where it still rested against his leg. "Neither do I, Sweetheart." Bringing her hand up to his lips, he laid a soft kiss over her knuckles. "I don't want to leave you. 'S the last thing I want to do."
Leia thought of that chamber again, thought of her despair and terror for Han — imagined then, but real now — and she couldn't stop her voice from breaking as she quietly admitted, "I'm afraid of what will happen when you go."
Han kissed the back of her hand again, then pressed her palm to his cheek. "I brought this on myself, bein' stupid enough to spend years mouthing off on how I had one foot out the door, when I knew damn well the whole time I wasn't going anywhere unless you'd be there. But, Leia, I promise you," he vowed, his gaze locked on hers, "I will do everything I can — I mean it: every possible thing in my power — to come back to you."
"I know," she answered sincerely. "I know you will. It's not that anymore. Truly. I believe you when you say you want to come back. But I still—" She shook her head against the terrible perilousness of the decision he was making. "I know you feel you have to do this, but you shouldn't do it alone. Han, it's madness to confront a Hutt alone."
He expelled a long breath, his eyes cast up at the ceiling and the clear skies visible beyond. "Probably makes me a selfish bastard, but I like that you're so concerned for me, that you care this much. I spent most of my life not knowing what it felt like to have anyone give two fucks about me. But, honey, we've been over this. You cannot come with me, Leia. It's too dangerous — and the whole reason I'm going is to protect you, not put you in even more danger."
"Alright. I understand that," she acknowledged. "I'm not suggesting me. It doesn't have to be me, but someone, Han."
"No," he resolved with a firm shake of his head. "I won't let anyone—"
"I've heard all your arguments. I know what you're going to say: that no one should risk themselves when it's your problem," she anticipated him. "But if this was Luke or Wedge who had gotten into trouble, would you expect either of them to handle it on their own? Would you tell them it shouldn't be you at stake? Or would you say, 'fuck that', and do everything you could for them? Like the way you rode out into a frozen, barren wasteland with almost zero hope of survival to rescue Luke when no one else could or would. All of Hoth, the whole Alliance — one could argue the entire galaxy — has seen the lengths you'll go to for your friends."
She had him there and they both knew it. That was the problem when your girlfriend was a master orator. That, and the fact that Han was so madly in love with her, would always give Leia the upper hand.
She saw the wheels in his head turning, read what he was thinking all over his face, and Leia's mouth stretched into a smile that was equal parts smug and sweet. "Are you ready to admit that I'm right, or shall I go on?"
"You got more examples on the ready, Worship?"
"If you need them. I have years' worth of experiences to draw from. I know the kind of man you are, Han. I've seen the level of devotion you show. Allow your friends to exercise that same devotion back. There is nothing wrong with accepting help from those who care about you. It doesn't make you weak; it doesn't make you some sort of hanger-on. That kind of give-and-take is what family is all about." She laid her hand against his cheek, the other curling around his neck to toy with the scruffy hair at his nape. "It doesn't have to be me personally going, I know that's not what you want, but I can guarantee you there are dozens of beings who would voluntarily and gladly come to your aid. If you'll only let them."
Though he said nothing, she could feel Han wavering, sensed that he saw the reason in everything she'd said but fear for others, guilt at putting them in harm's way, held him back. It was such an unbelievable irony that, from the day she met him, Han tried desperately to put up the front of a hardened, self-concerned mercenary who looked out solely for number one, when in reality, he was one of the most noble beings she'd ever known.
"Han, I understand your need to face this, to get that chapter of your life closed and squared away so it can never come back to haunt us. Not just understand it, I respect you all the more for it. You're so godsdamned honorable, I—"
"Me?" Han pointed to his chest, astounded.
"Yes, you. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you are so good, Han — so unbelievable good. With just the right amount of 'bad' mixed in to make you irresistible to those with a weakness for scoundrels," Leia added as she coyly played her finger over the scar on his chin. "But all that irresistible scoundrel's honorability doesn't mean you have to, or even should, face this alone. Accept help from the Alliance," she implored. "Or if that feels too official, accept help privately. From Luke, from the Rogues — there's no end to those who would be willing, who would already be charging out there for you if they could. Come on, Han. If nothing else, think of this from their side. Can you imagine what you would be thinking if Luke was making such an insane decision? Not only would you be willing to help him, you'd also be kriffing pissed beyond belief at him for going off halfcocked without you. Tell me I'm wrong," she challenged.
"You know I can't…You're unbelievable, Leia. Such a dynamic force to be reckoned with, all wrapped up in an outrageously beautiful package." Han held her gaze with such depth of feeling in his that if the conversation was any less critical, she would have easily lost track of it, lost herself in the endlessly tender and warm pools of his eyes. "Alright. Okay."
Hopefulness turned to utter thrill in Leia's expression. "You'll let us help you?" It was still going to be utterly maddening not going herself, having it outside her control — but, goddess, what a profound relief to know it would be a well-supported, organized, and coordinated mission, not just Han out there facing danger on his own.
"I didn't say that." Leia's face fell in such a spectacular fashion that it had Han reaching out for her in reassurance, his arm curving around her waist. "Yet. I didn't say that yet. But I'm also not sayin' no. What I'm saying is I'll agree to talk to Rieekan about it when we get to the fleet."
She didn't want to risk undoing this progress, but curiosity got the better of her and she had to know. "Why Carlist?"
"'Cause I think he cares about what happens to me," Han replied hesitantly, like it embarrassed him to say it, like he thought even that simple statement might be overstepping or claiming too much.
"That man loves you like a son," Leia told him to remove his doubts.
"But," he qualified, "also Carlist 'cause he'll strike the right balance between what's good for the Alliance and doing what he can to help me square things with Jabba."
Again, she didn't want to look a gift bantha in the mouth, but that stung a little and she couldn't help saying, "And you think Carlist can do that better than I?"
"Leia, you'd be biased," he reasoned, his tone suggesting she knew he was right. "You'd champion my side, no matter what."
The insinuation that she would allow personal feelings to compromise her ability to do her job, jeopardizing a goal she'd fought her entire adult life toward, naturally agitated Leia. "So you think I'm too emotionally invested? I'm unable to make tough but fair decisions because I'm a woman?"
"No, Amant," Han told her with a smile, and ran his forefinger from her temple down along her hairline to play with the soft tendril that was curling beside her earlobe. "Not because you're a woman. Because that's exactly what I'd be doing if it was you in trouble."
Leia thought of how infuriated he was on her behalf when a new medic on base had insisted on treating her with a needle despite her protests, or the way he broke protocol to rescue her when the mission on Devaron went bad — even outside of his romantic feelings for her, she remembered the way he'd charged out into certain-death temperatures on Hoth to save Luke, and the time he broke through the Imperial blockade to get Chewie life-saving medical treatment on Kashyyyk, risking everything for his quasi-brothers. Being subjective wasn't necessarily a bad thing, nor something to be ashamed of.
"Alright, that's a fair enough point," she conceded. "We'll talk to Carlist."
Noticing how she'd changed the 'I' to a 'we', Han grinned with infinite affection.
"The end result will be the same," Leia continued. "I know he'll want to help you. He'll insist on it, in fact." She preemptively read his objection and rushed to pacify it, promulgating, "This isn't only personal, you know. Yes, of course it is for me. And, frankly, it is for Carlist, too. But it is in the best interest of the Alliance to have you around, Han. To have you fighting with us. You're the best smuggler, best pilot, that we have — or have ever had."
He steadied her face in his hands, kissing her softly. "You must want this bad, huh? To get you to speak that glowingly of me and my many talents," he said with a smirk.
"I do want it badly," she agreed, smiling along with him, "but you also know I believe every one of those compliments, and that they're all true. Now is no time to grow humble, Hotshot. You are well aware of what an indispensable asset you are to the Alliance."
"And…" Han prompted, rekindling their old argument from Hoth.
"And to me. Because I want you to stay with us," she emphasized. "Because of the way I feel about you. Because I'm extremely appreciative of your asset," Leia added cheekily. "There, are you happy now?"
"How could I not be after such a heartfelt declaration? Finally admittin' you're crazy about me, just like I said all along," Han teased, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, "Also, I get to do this…" He ran his lips from her earlobe down along her jawline to her mouth, where he kissed her soundly.
"It is pretty impossible not to be pleased with that," Leia sighed contentedly when they finally broke apart for air.
"Kriff yeah, that's pleasing," Han agreed. "And no matter what happens, Sweetheart, we don't have to worry about it just yet. We've still got to track down the fleet. That'll buy us at least a couple days, maybe more, depending on where they're hiding. I know you were upset after Ord Mantell 'cause I made that decision without you, so this time we'll do it together. We'll talk this out with Rieekan, see what he thinks, and come up with a plan we both can feel okay with. It's gonna be alright, Leia. It is. You don't have to be afraid for me."
Leia's heart swelled at his words. She loved Han's new outlook, his determination to correct mistakes of the past, his firm resolve to operate together now in all ways. His dedication and commitment to them was indescribably sexy, and her eyes dropped down to his lips, zeroing in on what they wanted.
Han could see where Leia's mood had gone, and his went happily right along with it. "You look real pretty with your hair like that."
His gaze swept over her face amorously a moment before he leaned in to kiss her slowly, fitting her lower lip between his in a tender caress. As he eased back, his fingers toyed with one of her looped braids before his hand traveled down. He kissed her again, this time more lingeringly, and that wayward hand worked its way beneath her vest to trail along her side and trace her curves as they both were increasingly drawn in by their growing desire.
"Real pretty in this little thing you're wearin', too."
This time when Han eased away, his eyes slid down her body, watching as his hand finally settled at her middle where the fabric drew in tight, accentuating both her trim waist and the soft inviting rise of her breasts…of which he now had intimate knowledge.
"Makes you look all soft and feminine," he murmured around another kiss. "Like a refined and proper princess." Han tugged at her hip until Leia was leaning back, half-lying against her part of the chair. He wrapped his right arm fully around her, his left hand moving down to caress her thigh. "Makes me wanna get real improper with you," he said in a low growl that set off an answering throb between her legs as he leaned over her.
"This 'little thing' I'm wearing," she imitated him, "is a sheer silk chiffon embroidered cloak—" She paused to press her lips to his, cupping his jaw and deepening the kiss. "—over a rhombus belted silk crepe de chine tunic—" She nibbled at his earlobe. "—and fitted harem pants—" Bending her head further, she sucked at his neck. "—with a gathered ankle and matching ballet flats."
"Mm," Han hummed appreciatively, "whatever it is, it looks fuckin' sexy on you." He swooped down to drop a line of kisses along her throat. "Would look even better off you…" He walked his fingers up her thigh and over her hip to tease at her belt. "Speaking of which…tell me more about after we leave here," he coaxed. "Something about kriffing like boglings once we get back to the fleet."
Leia shook her head. "Not to the fleet. I can't wait that long. Once we get back to the Falcon."
"Well, that'll be today."
She caught his eye. "Yes. It will."
"Kriff, Leia. Tonight?" Han all but stammered as it fully sank in. "Really?" The thought of actually making love to her that soon — tonight! — was almost too incredible to get his mind around.
"No."
He looked at her questioningly.
"We're not waiting that long," she whispered enticingly, moving in closer still. "As soon as we make the jump into hyper, you're all mine…"
She ran her tongue over his lower lip, and that was the end of Han's control. He opened his lips, sucking her tongue into his mouth — and it was a full-on conflagration; all at once, Leia wanted nothing more than to be taken by him, right then and there.
Too soon, their kiss was interrupted by the sound of one of the suite's doors sliding open. Leia rushed upright, fighting off a blush to be swept away at such a time with a level of passion that had quickly gotten away from them.
[I found Aureate], Chewbacca announced as he strode into the main room.
Expecting to find Threepio toddling in after him, Leia bolted to her feet when she discovered that, instead, Chewie was carrying the completely dismantled droid in a makeshift box. "What happened?"
[I do not know. He was in pieces, about to be incinerated, when I found him on a scrap metal belt on the 50th floor.]
"Where?" Han asked him to repeat it, caught off-guard by this development.
[In a refuse sorting room.]
"You found him in a junk pile." Han had assumed Threepio was making himself a nuisance to someone, but he never expected the droid to have actually gotten himself blasted to pieces. There had to be a story there; Han figured Goldenrod must have gone snooping where he didn't belong and paid the price.
Chewbacca growled in confirmation and Leia sighed, thoughts of yet more repairs swirling through her brain. "Oh, what a mess." If need be, they could take him back to the Alliance that way, to be reconstructed once they reached the fleet. It wasn't an ideal situation — Threepio would certainly consider it beneath his dignity — but she'd made up her mind they wouldn't linger any longer in Cloud City than was absolutely necessary. "Chewie, do you think you can repair him?"
[I'm sorry, Little Princess, I do not know much about droid maintenance.]
"Lando's got people that can fix him," Han pointed out.
"No thanks," Leia answered around a scowl. It was a heavy level of snark, but she just did not trust the man. Despite Han's reassurances, she couldn't be dissuaded from her initial impression that something was off about Lando.
[Speak of the devil and he will appear…] Chewie warned before she said anything more, as Lando had just let himself in through another of the suite's doors.
Noting the look on the princess's face, Lando dispensed with his planned pleasant greetings and said, "Sorry, am I interrupting anything?"
Leia thought that was a question better posed before one invited themselves in unannounced. Lando's appearance had, in fact, intruded upon their discussion over what to do about Threepio's unfortunate state. Not wanting him involved in any capacity, she lied, "Not really."
Then it occurred to her that, had it not been for Chewie's interruption less than a minute prior to Lando's, there was no telling what he would have walked in on. She nervously pulled the sides of her cloak together, as if in shielding her body she could also block out any comprehension of her and Han's prior activities. The way Lando was leering at her, the last thing she wanted to do was give him any reason to think of her in that light.
Calrissian flashed her a smooth smile, turning up the full wattage of his charm. "You look absolutely beautiful. You truly belong here with us among the clouds."
Han rolled his eyes at his old friend's transparent attempts at flattery, a tactic that Han knew firsthand would get him nowhere with Leia. But ever the diplomat, she accepted Lando's compliment with good grace rather than the stinging rebuke she would have turned upon Han in their early days.
"Would you join me for a little refreshment?" Lando posed, holding out his hand to her.
Leia looked warily back to Han, ready to follow his lead here, but Chewie inadvertently settled it for them by eagerly perking up at the mention of a meal.
[Refreshments?]
"Everyone's invited, of course," Lando graciously extended his brunch invitation. He knew the whole time that he would get them all that way; there was no chance they would leave the princess alone with him in a strange place.
Seeing no other course of action, Leia reluctantly took Lando's hand, but the very moment Han hastened to her side, offering his arm, she took it instead and pointedly stepped away from Lando.
She didn't trust the man, no matter what Han said, but she would make polite small talk on the way to the private dining room Lando had set up for them. Well-versed in how to handle herself amongst friends, enemies, and all parties in-between, Leia masterfully steered their dialogue toward neutrality by discussing the colony, its excavation work, and general governance.
A crucial component to blaster and other explosives production, as well as a valuable hyperdrive coolant, tibanna gas was an indispensable commodity to the Alliance's war efforts, but Leia had very little interest in the actual ins and outs of its mining process. However, as a skilled speaker, she knew how to keep a conversation going — and how to turn it to her advantage in order to do some mining of her own.
"Everything here is so hospitable and serene," she remarked in awe, "a refuge of peace in a galaxy of chaos. It's truly remarkable how you've managed to keep this settlement untouched by the ravages of war. You must pay a pretty price to the Empire to accomplish that."
The princess was all sweetness and smiles on the surface but lethal fire beneath; Lando didn't miss that, or her veiled implications. "There is no price," he informed her, his tone matching her level of self-confidence and poise, giving nothing away of the irony of his statement. "We pay no Imperial taxes at all."
It was Han who baulked at this claim. "How do you manage that?"
"Because we have no Imperial connections at all."
Her voice polite but thick with scarcely veiled passive-aggressive doubt, Leia remarked, "The Empire just allows you to operate free and clear of their authority? My, you do have it made, Baron."
"Not exactly 'allows'," Lando conceded. "But the Empire can't seize what they don't know about. The key is to fly outside the radar. Be neither too remarkable, nor suspiciously low-key. It helps that we're not looking to be the next Canto Bight. We rely on a certain level of discretion from our inhabitants, as well as our visitors. If no one is talking about you, then you won't be important enough to register. Those with the power to come looking have little interest in what amounts to a tiny drop in a galaxy-wide pond of resources. So you see, since we're a small operation, we don't fall under the jurisdiction of the Empire."
If Lando was being truthful, Cloud City must still be part of some affiliation. In these times, nothing of this scope could successfully operate truly independently. They would need to be part of a larger union, if only for the necessary protections such an organization could provide. "So you're part of the mining guild, then?" Leia surmised.
"No, not actually. Our operation is small enough not to be noticed, which is advantageous for everybody since our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves," Lando told them as they entered the building's main concourse.
"But aren't you afraid the Empire is going to find out about this little operation and shut you down?" Han queried, following Lando as he veered them to the left down another corridor.
"That's always been a danger, and it looms like a shadow over everything we've built here," Lando admitted candidly, a pre-explanation for what was about to occur. "But things have developed that will ensure security."
[What things?]
Chewbacca looked about cautiously. Calrissian was lying about something; he could smell the fear on him.
[I do not like this], Chewie growled low under his breath, but Han and Leia were too caught up in what Lando was saying to hear him.
Lando stopped the trio before an ornate set of double doors. "I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever."
And with one final look fixed heavily on his friend of old, Lando pressed the button to open the doors.