The Last Princess of Alderaan, one of the chief leaders and face of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, lay collapsed on the floor of the detention center in the depths of Cloud City for an indeterminant amount of time. She lost consciousness for a stretch shortly after Vader left, only coming to as someone was removing her binders. Then a meddroid gave her some kind of injection, what Leia assumed was a stim shot. She was too far gone at that point to be sure; she didn't even experience her usual trauma-based reaction to the needle. They left her alone again after that, she guessed so that whatever they had given her had the chance to take effect.
By the time a compliment of troopers arrived in her room she hadn't a clue how long later, the shot had indeed fully kicked in. Back to her normal self, Leia had the restored mental acuity to be anxious over where they were taking her. Even so, fear for Han remained her paramount concern. Vader had apparently decided that physically abusing her wouldn't serve his purpose, but she had no idea if they were still torturing Han.
As it turned out, the stormtroopers led her only a short distance down the hallway before stopping at another of the identical doors and shoving her roughly inside. Leia caught herself on the wall of this new room that looked exactly like the one she had just left. She was wondering at the point of such a transfer when she spotted Han lying on a durasteel bunk directly in front of her and everything else vanished from her senses.
The need to go to him was all-consuming; her feet carried her there without conscious thought. The very moment she was close enough to touch him, Leia reached out for Han and protectively cradled his head as she knelt at his side. "Why are they doing this?" she lamented, stroking her fingers through his hair and over his temple, lovingly petting him.
The sheer powerlessness before had been beyond awful: unable to help him, incapable of stopping his torment or even tending to his wounds. With everything in her, she yearned to take away his pain, restore his body and erase the suffering he had just endured. Although it wasn't possible to change what had happened to him, at least now she could hold him and offer him solace, give him all the comfort, care, and compassion that she possibly could.
Han was still mildly out of it, but having Leia safe there with him again was in itself a tremendous reprieve — and though he had just borne more physical pain than he thought possible, her soft and gentle hands on him now were the best thing he had ever felt. Gods, her touch was so assuasive, better than the best meds any being had ever conjured up!
Leia's warm affection was always the most heartening of balms to Han, but right now her touch seemed to not only soothe but have an almost restorative effect. He sighed as he could feel his body regaining strength entirely in and of her palliative presence.
Through his haze of relief, his mind eventually latched onto what she had actually said, but after taking a second to consider it, Han came up equally blank. "They never even asked me any questions."
Leia's heart ached at his bewildered, exhausted tone, and she bent to press a tender kiss to his forehead, laying her cheek against the bridge of his nose in a loving cuddle. The cool, silken feel of her braid falling against his upper lip was like heaven and Han soaked up every last bit of her affection, fortified by her tender care.
He didn't have long to bask in her ministrations, however, before the sound of the door sliding open had Leia tensed at attention, preparing to ward off whatever new threat was upon them.
"Lando," she warned him, helping Han to sit up as he too braced himself for a fresh fight.
Chewie roared several curses in Shyriiwook at the conman, taking the words right out of Han's mouth. "Get out of here, Lando," he growled.
"Shut up and listen," Lando answered brusquely.
To be met with such a response after all that kriffer had just put them through ignited pure rage in Han. Only Leia's supportive, conciliatory arms around him stopped Han from lunging at his former friend, but the damning scowl on his face spoke volumes.
"Now," Lando continued, "Vader's agreed to turn Leia and Chewie over to me."
"Over to you?" Han objected with disdain — and Lando had the balls to say it as if he should be congratulated. He was a better warden, no doubt, but it was still just exchanging one prison for another.
"They'll have to stay here," Lando acknowledged Han's point, "but at least they'll be safe."
"What about Han?" was Leia's first thought.
"Vader's giving him to the bounty hunter," Lando informed them with regret.
The baron's confirmation of her dreaded suspicion re-evoked Leia's anger at the man. Was he really so dense that he still wasn't getting it? Or was he being purposefully obtuse in an effort to absolve himself of any guilt? "Vader wants us all dead," she snapped.
"He doesn't want you at all," Lando replied, raising his voice for attention's sake. "He's after somebody called, uh…Skywalker."
That was new information. And unexpected. Leia looked to Han, who was immediately on alert.
"Luke?" he questioned warily, his spine snapping straighter in heightened vigilance.
"Lord Vader set a trap for him," Lando revealed.
"And we're the bait," Leia realized aloud.
It all made sense now. The roundabout way they were set up, the stalling. Vader could have killed them dozens of times over. He could have tried to negotiate a surrender, or at the very least a ransom, out of the Alliance. But none of that was guaranteed to draw Luke out of hiding.
She had learned enough about Luke's abilities over the years to know that he could sense strong feelings on others. The torture of his dearest friends would surely call to him through the Force. That was why the Imperials didn't bother asking them any questions. It wasn't necessary; their suffering alone was the sole requirement. Not only would it alert Luke, but Vader knew their pain wasn't something Luke could ever ignore. It was quite literally impossible for Luke not to respond to his friends' need for help.
Lando nodded affirmatively to Leia's assertion that they were nothing more than bait for someone else. He still didn't know who this Luke was. By their reaction, it was obvious that Han and the princess did, but it didn't matter to Lando. He still believed it was better to have Skywalker in Vader's clutches than anyone he personally knew. It was too late to do anything about it now, anyway. "Yeah, well, he's on his way."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, resounded on a loop in Han's head. Luke was walking straight into a trap. The kid was going to get himself killed, on his behalf.
This was exactly why he had refused Alliance, or even private, help to settle things with Jabba. His resolute attempts to avoid a situation like this had caused a catastrophic rift in his relationship with Leia that almost hadn't been repaired — and here it was happening anyway. Someone else sucked into the blackhole consequences of his stupid, thoughtless actions in ever running spice to begin with. Another being he cared about getting hurt because the friend he'd trusted turned out to be a dirty, rotten traitor.
"Perfect." Past the point of holding himself back, even with Leia's hand still upon him, Han approached Lando in a blind rage. "You fixed us all real good, didn't you? My friend," he snarled contemptuously and threw a punch that landed squarely against Lando's jaw.
Fat lot of good it did him, though. Just earned him a further beating, and blasters being drawn.
Despite the melee, Leia was at Han's side in an instant, her hand gently molding to his bruised ribs in quiet sympathy while Lando called his men off.
It was only once they'd gone, as Chewbacca and Leia were helping him over to the cot, that Han had his first chance to really look at her. Although she appeared uninjured, the troubling question of why she was back in her snowsuit cleared whatever fog remained in his brutalized mind and body, making Han temporarily forget his concern for Luke. His entire focus was now squarely on Leia. He shook off Chewie's hands as the Wookiee tried to get him to lay down again, but was yet unsteady enough to let himself by pushed all the way to the end of the cot so his back could be supported by the wall.
"Leia," Han spoke her name urgently and reached for her hand, tugging at her until she sat down beside him. "Why are you wearing different clothes? Did something happen to your other outfit? Did they hurt you?"
"No." She shook her head, understanding what was in his mind and hoping to set it at ease, to calm the lethal fire in his tone and expression. "No, nothing like what you're thinking. But we can talk about that later." She'd seen what they'd done to him; it was absurd for him to be asking after her injuries. "Are you alright?"
"Oh, never been better," he tried in an attempt to brush off her concern, but Leia wasn't having it.
"I'm serious, Han." She began feeling over his body in careful inventory. "Where does it hurt the most?"
"Sweetheart." He placed his hands over hers, stopping her. "I'm okay." At the pointed look she gave him, he amended, "Fine, not okay, but I'll live. Now tell me: what happened to your clothes? What did they do to you?"
When she still didn't answer, a hint of pleading crept into Han's voice. "Leia, I've gotta know. The not knowing was…" It was a torturous hell all its own. "…almost as bad as everything else they did to me."
"No one did anything to me. Nothing." In reality, it had been far from nothing. In some ways, it was a much more grueling torture than the first time. "Nothing physical, anyway," Leia corrected herself, but Han's expression remained skeptical. "No really, they never touched me. After they separated us, they put me in a holding cell just like this one. Nothing 'happened' to the other outfit. Lando came to apologize. He wanted to know if there was anything he could do for me, and I asked him to bring me my old clothing. I was thinking of escape; it's easier to fight in this."
"And that's all that happened?" Han questioned her further, knowing how tricky Leia could be about her wording, misleading without actually lying — he figured it was a trick of the trade in politics. Because as much as he wished it were so, as much as he'd worked to protect her by trying to put Vader's focus only on him, he knew enough about Imperial tactics to seriously doubt they hadn't done something to her. She was just shielding him from the truth. "I find that hard to believe."
"They didn't touch me, Han. In any way. I promise you." She didn't want to burden him further, but at this point in their relationship, and under these desperate circumstances, there wasn't room for even half-truths, so she hesitantly admitted to a generalization of the rest. "But…Vader did know he could use our relationship to his advantage."
"What's that mean?" Han was almost afraid to know. She'd assured him they hadn't raped her, which was the first thing that came to mind, but he didn't know how else to take that statement. Then he recalled what Vader had said about finding out what they'd be willing to do to protect the other. "You didn't give him anything? You didn't tell him anything to help me, did you?" he asked in dismay, picturing the whole Rebel fleet in Vader's clutches. Because of him. He'd rather she'd let him die than be the cause of that.
"No. I didn't." There was a time she would have added, 'I would never', but now she knew that wasn't true.
"Well…" Han was at a loss, unable to think of any other ways Vader could have taken advantage of their relationship. "How else did he use you? What did he do to you, Leia?"
She shook her head again. "I'll get to that in a second. It's not important now. First, I need you to know something. The things I said back there — Han, I swear I didn't mean them."
He stared at her in confusion, truly clueless as to what she was talking about.
"I don't think of you as only my consort," she rushed on, eager to tell him. "You're so much more to me than that. After they took you, I was afraid something would happen and those would be the last words I ever said to you, and I—"
"Leia," Han cut her off. "You can say whatever you damn well need to say when faced with Vader. You really think I care?" He could easily dismiss her concerns on that front; he'd hadn't even thought twice about the specifics of what she'd said in her efforts to protect him. "I knew what you were doing, why you were saying it." He enveloped both her hands in his, squeezing reassuringly. "What does bother me is how you'd put yourself at risk like that for me."
Now, Leia was the one to give him a dumbfounded look. "Of course I would. How could you think I wouldn't? You're—"
She couldn't begin to put it into words. 'The most important thing in my life' would be closest. Her gut response would always be for him, above all else. She'd come to realize even the Rebellion, certainly herself.
"Han, there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect you. You have to allow me that, to do the same for you as you would for me."
To hear her — the most incredible being he'd ever known, the love of his life — make such an incredible vow left Han's soul splayed open, his heart bared freely, an offering at her feet. "I tried, Leia," he promised, and the gutted look on his face made her heart ache. "I tried to do that for you. I tried to protect you — it's all I wanted. So if what you're saying is true, if they really didn't hurt you, then I consider it a win. Doesn't matter what they did to me."
"I know what they did to you." Tears involuntarily flooded Leia's eyes at the memory. She opened her mouth to say more but struggled to speak further and had to take a deep, calming breath before managing to tell him, "I saw."
Though she fought mightily to mask her reaction, knowing Leia as well as he did, her devastation was clear. "They made you watch?" he asked in horror.
Hearing himself say it aloud, he realized those were the very same words he'd used years ago when she first told him about Alderaan, and he cursed as he comprehended in its fullness how horrific it must have been for her, what an unbearable repeat — that dark caped bastard showing up to torment her again, holding her down and making her watch as he destroyed everything she cared about.
"Fuck Vader," Han seethed, wishing for the millionth time he could see that monster dead for all he'd done to her. "Oh, honey." He wrapped his arms around Leia and drew her into his side. "Amant," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss into her hair. "Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" she repeated incredulously. "Han, I saw them torture you. The only thing I care about is if you're okay. They hurt you terribly, again and again." Fresh tears filled her eyes, a mixture of horror at what she'd seen and relief to be holding him, warm and alive against her. "I was so afraid it was going to kill you. Seeing you in such pain like that…it was worse than if it had been me. I wished it was me; I still do."
"No," Han shook his head vehemently. "A thousand times over I'd do it for you, take it for you. It's always better me than you. Gods," he shuddered against her, "don't even want to think about it the other way around, 'specially when I know it did happen to you once."
"And now it's happened to you, and I hate that. It isn't fair; you never asked for any of this. You wondered if I gave Vader anything to help you. Well, I didn't, but Han, I would have," Leia admitted. "If there had been something Vader wanted to know, I would have told him; there's no doubt in my mind. I would have given anything — literally anything — to make them stop hurting you. But he never asked me a single thing, either. He only told me he wanted to make me suffer by watching you suffer. He said he knew that was the way to break me. And he was right."
Han turned her in his arms and held her even more snugly against him, tenderly fitting her cheek to his chest and tucking her head protectively beneath his chin. "Leia, you can't blame yourself for that. Gods, I would have lost my kriffin' mind if the situations were reversed."
She didn't blame herself, that was the startling part.
Even now, with the smallest bit of time and distance, Leia knew she wouldn't have regretted doing whatever it took had she been able to free Han and prevent the Imps from ever hurting him. It came as something of a shock for her to realize how thoroughly her post-Alderaan priorities had rearranged themselves in the past years. The good of the Rebellion, the future of the Alliance, making the Empire pay for what they'd done to her planet and ensuring they could never do it again — nothing in this galaxy or any other had mattered more to Leia. So tangibly discovering that was now no longer the case, that her love for Han had indeed usurped all else, was something of a revelation, but that was a moral conundrum for another time. Right now, in hindsight, she still couldn't find it in herself to be bothered by this new fact.
Leia shook away those thoughts even as her fingers clasped tighter to the edge of Han's jacket, unwilling and unable to let him go. "It doesn't matter. Vader didn't ask anything, I didn't tell him anything, and all I want now is to make it better for you. What can I do?"
"I'll survive, Sweetheart. It's you I'm worried about." A further cloud darkened Han's eyes as he thought about their latest catastrophe. "And now Luke, too, walking into a trap. Kest, we both know the kid doesn't know any better."
"He'd come anyway," Leia muttered into his chest.
"Yeah."
She lifted her head. "It makes sense that this was all a trap to get to Luke. Vader blames him for blowing up the Death Star." She sat up further to face Han as she warned him, "But we can't entirely trust what Lando is saying."
"That's an understatement."
"Right," Leia acknowledged, "but not only because it's him saying it. Because he's clearly not the one running the show here. I'm not even sure how much he's actually been let in on. When he came to see me in my cell, I got the impression he didn't expect any of this to happen. He told me they weren't going to hurt me or you — an incredibly naïve point of view, but I think at the time he truly believed it. Obviously, he's been lied to, so who knows what else Lando doesn't know."
"Even if this was just about getting to Luke…I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he told her reluctantly, "but I don't believe Vader's just gonna peaceably leave you here."
"Neither do I. What would he gain from that? What he wants is to hurt us. That's why he's giving you to the bounty hunter. It's purely out of spite." Leia suddenly nuzzled back into Han, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his neck. "I'm just glad that I can touch you and hold you now," she murmured against his skin, breathing him in. "I thought they wouldn't let me see you again. At least they put us in the same cell to await…"
What? Further torture? Permanent separation? Death? The possibilities were numerous, and none of them good. There wasn't a single scenario where they all survived unscathed.
"…our fate," she finished glumly.
They fell into silence until thoughts of what was going to happen to them next led the simmering guilt to boil over in Han. "Y'don't know how sorry I am for bringing you here. I always knew I'd be your downfall someday…a guy like me, impossibly far beneath you. That's why I was leaving to square things away with Jabba, so you wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. But kest, you could hardly be worse off than me delivering you straight to Vader."
Leia eased away enough to look at him, cupping his face in both her hands. "You are not beneath me, Han. You stand at my side, as my equal. Royalty is nothing more than a title. It wouldn't mean anything to me if you were a prince; I've never cared about that. Beings from all places and planets fixate on the 'princess' part of who I am, or the 'woman' part, and never see past that. It's a rare gift to be appreciated and valued and seen as me — only me, the real person underneath. From the moment we met you've given me that, and I see you and cherish you in that very same light."
"Besides," she reasoned, "it's not as if you had any choice but to bring me here. Where else could we have gone? What else could we have done, drift in space endlessly until we eventually ran out of supplies? I was every bit on board with the decision to come to Bespin. And just off the top of my head I can think of a way I would have immediately been worse off: I could be dead back in the Command Center on Hoth. You made sure that didn't happen." She slid her hands down to his shoulders, running one comfortingly down the length of his arm. "If this is anyone's fault, it's mine. And I am sorry. Han, I am so truly, deeply sorry that I did this to you."
He gaped at her in disbelief. "Leia. How by any standard could this possibly be your fault?"
"Because I'm the one who dragged you into this. Not just here, now, but in general. You wouldn't even be in danger if I hadn't gotten you entangled with the Rebellion in the first place. I brought you into this, and it's brought you nothing but suffering. This wasn't the life you wanted: struggling and scrounging, forever on the run, always only one step ahead of death — and that's without even mentioning all the injuries you endured protecting me."
He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off in advance. "You want to say that I suffered plenty of injuries myself, some of them from protecting you, and I'm not denying that." Ord Mantell being the most recent and contentious example she was well aware he wouldn't dismiss. "But this was my fight; the burden of it should be mine. Yet I spent years trying to foist it on you, against your every objection."
Since Yavin, Han had rallied against ever getting entangled with a hopelessly outnumbered band of freedom fighters. He'd called it, known exactly where getting caught up with the Alliance would lead. And his very reasonable opposition fell on her willingly deaf ears. She not only ran roughshod over his wishes every single time, she completely negated them — loathed them in fact, and him a little bit for having them, for the inconvenience of presenting her any resistance at all.
"I know the fault lies with me," Leia acknowledged now; too late, but it was all she could offer. "You never wanted to get involved. You wanted to leave from the very beginning. You told me that, you told everyone that, over and over again. You couldn't have been any clearer. But it didn't matter to me what you wanted." She shook her head in anger at herself, seized with self-recrimination for only seeing her needs and dismissing his. "I refused to take 'no' for an answer. At every opportunity, like a spoiled child, I insisted. I guilted and browbeat you into it — or more still, if that didn't work. I lied on Hoth about convincing Carlist to seal off the planet. I did want to stop you from leaving, and that was far from the first time I made such an underhanded move with you."
There was no denying her place in this, and Leia wasn't about to let him let her off the hook. "If it wasn't for me, none of this would be happening to you. You would be safe, you wouldn't be wanted by the Empire, and you would have long since paid off that botched spice run. Not that your debt even matters right now. Like everything else, you were captured because of me."
"Technically, we were both captured because of Luke. But, come on, some of the credit's mine," Han managed to get in. "Did you miss our ol' friend Fett out there? He's the one who tracked us."
"Yes, but at Vader's behest, not Jabba's. Your life is in danger now not because of anything you've done but solely because of your connection to me." Leia nodded grimly, finally able to accept her culpability, though she doubted she would ever be able to forgive herself. "I've done this to you, Han; I know I have. It was never my intention, but it is my fault. Vader tortured you expressly to harm me. I've gotten you hurt, possibly killed."
"Oh, dear gods." Leia's hands fell away from him into tight fists in her lap, her fingernails biting into her palms as she realized the full extent of it. "Just like I did to all the others." Her expression shifted into appalled, grief-stricken panic, almost a kind of shock, as she comprehended that she had doomed Han to the same fate as her parents, her planet, every Rebel soldier she'd ever given a rousing speech to before they marched off to their deaths.
Han grabbed her hands, unfurling her fingers and intwining them with his own. "You haven't. No, you haven't. Not to them, or me. Listen to me, Leia: this isn't your fault, none of it. And I'm not gonna die. Not here, not today."
"You don't know that," she countered in quiet desperation.
"None of us ever knows that," he answered bluntly. "But I made my own choices. I brought myself here. In case you missed it, Sweetheart, somewhere along the way, this became my fight too. And no matter what happens, I am not sorry. I'm not sorry that I met you. I'm not sorry that I stayed; it's given me the remarkable privilege to know you. I'm not sorry for any of it, Leia. I'm grateful."
"How can you say that when this—" She gestured around at their stark cell, at Han's brutalized body. "—is where you ended up?"
"Because this isn't the end. And the middle's been pretty fuckin' fantastic."
Despite the unshed tears still shining in her eyes, that earned a soft gasp and a half-smile, so Han continued pouring out his heart.
"Long as I can remember, I'm talkin' my very earliest memories, I've seen and known some heavy shit in my life, Leia. Almost all of it bad. Scraping to get by; every being for themselves. You learned to be hard 'cause you had to be. Even as a kid, things like 'security' and 'trust' were foreign concepts. I led the kind of life where I didn't believe in anything. No one had ever given me a reason to. Until you. You're the first truly good thing I've ever known. Before I ran into the kid and the old man in that desert dump, before they led me straight to the feistiest thing I'd ever seen — with the face of an angel, the temper of an acklay, and a body straight outta my dreams — I was lost, and I was empty. I didn't even realize how much."
It might sound dramatic, but that was the only way to describe it. His existence back then was such a stark contrast to the fulfillment and gratification his life held now. "I made it a point to avoid any and all attachments to save myself the trouble of being bit in the ass in the long run. It could be lonely — sometimes real damn miserable — but it was effective. In all my life, I've never belonged to anything or anyone. But I belong to you, Leia. And I'm happy to. I have been so kriffin' happy with you. You've given my life meaning. You've given me a place to belong. Something, someone, to live for."
"Han." Leia let go of his hands to grasp his forearms, tugging him closer as two tears escaped down her cheeks. "I don't like you saying these things." She shook her head quickly, lest he think she objected to his sentiments. "I love what you're saying — goddess, it fills my heart! — but you're talking as if you don't expect us to see each other again, like you think this is goodbye."
Han sighed heavily. He knew what was coming, and sooner than either of them was prepared. He was always going to do this, tell her this before he left. He had just hoped to be tenderly whispering it to her while they lay in each other's arms aboard the Falcon.
"Once Vader has Luke, he's gonna hand me over to Fett, who'll sell me to Jabba. That much is certain. There's no other reason for that bounty hunter asshole to be here; he doesn't do anything unless there's something in it for him. Fett may think he's tough but he's nothin' more than another of Jabba's Kawakian monkeys — obnoxious, ugly to look at, makes a lot of noise but in the end is just its master's lap dog. Fett's looking for a double payout, first from Vader then from the Hutt. And I won't lie, it's not ideal. To suit Jabba's pride, it should be me coming in freely. But that doesn't mean I can't still make it work for me. The basic plan is still the same. And I swear, Leia, I'm planning to come back. I just need you to know, in case…"
In case he couldn't make it back. That was what neither of them wanted to say aloud.
Han gently freed his right arm from Leia's grip to run his hand along her shoulder and up to cup her neck, his fingertips curling into the soft hair at her nape. "So let me keep telling you."
She silently nodded, and he continued. "Before I met you, I thought—" He cracked a smile, loving but sheepish, as he admitted, "Well, I thought beings who thought what they had — relationships, or love, or whatever else they wanted to call it — was this special, magical thing…honestly, Sweetheart, I thought they were kind of fucked in the head. And I would've kept thinking that, if I hadn't felt what we have. Now I know how wrong I was. Now I know it's real. That alone would've been a gift, just to know. But to actually get to live it, too? There's nothing for me to regret, Leia. Every second of knowing you has been the very best moments of my life."
"And they've been mine," Leia affirmed around a watery smile. "All the things you say I've given you, Han, you've given me. You've shown me it's okay to be a living, breathing person, that I'm allowed to be and want something for myself. It's a popular narrative to assume I am the way I am because of what happened to Alderaan, and there's certainly truth to that, but even before the Disaster I wasn't living a multidimensional life. Through no one's choice but my own, work was all I had. My everything was politics; I had no personal life. The Senate and, secretly, the Rebellion — I was certain that was my function, my calling, my very reason for existing: to change the galaxy into something better. And I still believe in that goal. The work I've done has been meaningful and necessary, and I don't regret it. But I was convinced it had to be my entire purpose, that it was selfish to allow myself to want anything more than that, anything just for me. Before you, I was sleepwalking through life, a creature all about duty, who increasingly rarely ever allowed herself just pure joy."
"And after Alderaan…" She paused a small second to gather her thoughts, to collect his free hand and hold it in both of hers. "…I don't know how I would have survived without you, Han. It's true you drove me crazy, but the way that you did — and continue to — challenge me to live, to feel, to be more than just a martyr to the cause, that saved me. You saved me. You showed me not only is it okay but that I have a right and even a duty to myself to want something more, to carve out a life and happiness that's all my own. I'm not just allowed but I should feel big feelings — that's what life is for — feelings I'd never experienced; feelings that, just like you, I didn't truly know existed before we met. Something so strong and unstoppable, addictive and wonderful, and entirely uncontainable, inexorable."
Leia shook her head, awed at the power of this almost mystical thing that existed between them. "And yes, frequently overwhelming — frustratingly, tremblingly so," she acknowledged, giving him that long overdue confession. Because she'd never been fooling anyone, least of all Han, the many times she had snapped at him, or fled the room, or claimed some sudden urgent duty elsewhere whenever he made her feel potent love and lust, an overpowering yearning to open up her soul and merge it with his. "I'm grateful to you for that. I would have lived an entire lifetime without ever really living. But you, Han, you've always made me feel so alive."
Her eyes filled anew, tears threatening again at the pure depth of her feeling. "The only thing I regret is not letting us have each other sooner. I was foolish not to expect an ending like this. I placed all my hopes on you officially joining the Alliance, thinking that if you agreed to stay, if you would only go all-in then everything would just…be alright." She shrugged a tad bitterly at her underestimation of their complex and dangerous lifestyle that was often totally beyond their control. "But, of course, even us both wanting it isn't a guarantee of anything when we're living in the middle of a galaxy-wide war. I should have come to that realization sooner. I should have been far less reckless with the opportunities we were given. I should have seized the time and the chances we had instead of squandering them…All those times we didn't make love when we could have…"
Han shook his head, slipping his hand from her neck down to her waist to draw her in closer. "It doesn't matter what didn't happen. 'Cause I've still known you, and that's enough. I once bragged to the kid that I could imagine quite a bit, but what we've had has been greater, better, much more than I ever could've imagined."
"I know," Leia nodded wholeheartedly. "For me, too. And I wanted even more," she told him, her voice wavering. "I wanted a life for us, together." With the back of her hand, she wiped away an errant tear that had tumbled from her lashes. "But I suppose that was too optimistic. Maybe all of my hope for a better future has been naïve. Maybe I was wrong to believe we had any chance of truly making things better. Maybe it was always going to end this way."
"No," Han insisted unwaveringly. "You are not naïve, and you're not wrong. Whatever happens to me, you will make it better. You're gonna win this war, Leia. I believe that, I really do."
Even as their relationship progressed, Han had often been brutally pragmatic about the Alliance's chances. Never once had he spoken so assuredly of their prospects, so it was something of a stunning shock to hear him say not only could they pull it off but that he genuinely believed they would be victorious and actually succeed in forming the New Republic.
The look she unconsciously gave him must have communicated as much because he laughed outright. "Hey, it surprises me as much as you. But you are gonna do this, Leia. You're gonna make it happen, I know you will. And you're not naïve about us, either. This ain't the end. It's just the same as before: I have to make a little detour, but I'm coming back. However long it takes. I'm Corellian, remember. We have turhaya. It'll draw me right back to you."
Han guided her down to rest her cheek against his chest as he hugged her close. Leia allowed herself to snuggle in but asked him, "Turhaya? What's that?"
"It's a saying in Olys — well, more like a concept. Literally means 'bright star', but it's deeper than that. Goes all the way back to ancient times, before hyperspace, even before interspace travel," he explained. "See, us Corellians, we've always been navigators. And for navigators, there's nothing more important than a guiding light — that's turhaya. For us, turhaya is more than just a word. It's the difference between life and death. It's your saving grace, the beacon that leads you safely home, and it doesn't just work out there in space, Sweetheart. Wherever we are, it'll lead me straight back to you."
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, and they stayed that way in a thoughtful silence for several minutes as Chewie continued his efforts to reassemble Threepio, keeping at a distance with his back turned to allow them a modicum of privacy.
Leia finally broke the quiet in a distraught whisper. "This is awful, Han."
From the sound of her voice, tears were looming again, but he knew she wouldn't accept any sugarcoating of their situation. "'S not great," Han acknowledged, "but we've been in worse. And where I'm going, I was going anyway. It's you I'm worried about…And I didn't plan on having to say goodbye to you tonight. There's still something more I need to tell you first."
The brush of her eyelashes over the hollow of his throat at any other time would have been a pleasantly erotic distraction, but now, the dampness of their flutter against his skin killed him. Her anguish tore him apart; he didn't need the Force to feel it as if it were his own. "Leia, don't cry."
She sniffed and tried to pull herself together, tried to make the most of the limited time they had left, but all she could focus on was what was coming beyond. Images and fears kept taunting her. "You say you'll be back, but I'm afraid — Han, I am terrified at the reality of that, of what your chances really are. You told me Jabba would do terrible things, worse than death. We both know now what it's like to be tortured. After a while, It's hard to hold on to your sanity, to your will to live. If it comes to that, promise me—" Her voice broke and her fingers curled anxiously into his shirtfront. "Promise me you'll try," she sobbed.
"Please don't cry, Leia," he repeated soothingly. "Karelul." {Darling.} Cradling her face, he laid a trail of soft kisses across her cheekbones, murmuring, "Min larel, min chio", as he brushed his lips over her nose and eyes, kissing her tears away. {My love, my everything.}
Han wrapped his arms around her and just held her to him as she wept, offering whispered comfort, loving caresses and soft grazes of his lips over her forehead, temple, and hair. Gathered so tightly against him, tucked under his chin with her face pressed to his chest where she could hear his heart that beat only for her, Leia felt unequal to the task that lay before them.
"I don't think I can do this," she admitted. "I can't just let them take you."
Han drew away enough to see her face. "You can, and you will. Don't put yourself in danger for me. It won't help. And I need you to be safe."
"I need you," she stressed.
"I'll find you. No matter what. Whatever it takes. Whoever I have to fight or kill, steal, give up to that funtihruo Hutt — even the Falcon, if I have to. I'll never stop till I'm back with you," he vowed. "Leia, you are my turhaya. You call to me; I will find you."
"Promise me."
"'Course I promise. Nothing could keep me away. Don't you know you're all that matters to me, that I live for you?"
Of all the many times Han had imagined saying these words to her — in just the right setting, at just the right moment — none of them could be further from this. Even on the rare occasion when he imagined saying it to her on the brink of death, it was always the two of them going out together in a heroic blaze of glory that would bring the Alliance certain victory. Their current setting was abysmal and the timing bleak, but it was still a blessing because it gave him the opportunity to tell her what he should have told her long ago, what she had to know — he couldn't bear the thought of her never knowing.
"Leia." He made certain he had her full attention, her eyes locked on his, before he told her of the feelings that had been years in the making. "Leia, I love you. I love you."
Han's tender vow both healed and broke Leia anew. It was all she wanted to hear for so very long. But not like this. No matter how desperately she had yearned for his love, never like this. She would rather he be free and safe and despise her, if given the choice. Still, to hear him say those words…she couldn't even begin to describe the tremendous relief and elation it was to finally know with certainty the deep and ardent feelings that had shaken her down to her very soul were reciprocated equally.
"I've never said that to anyone," Han went on. "I've never felt it. But it's true. I am wildly in love with you. I've loved you for so long that loving you is just who I am now; it's woven into my very cells. You're everything to me, Leia. Everything. I love you, and as long as there's breath still in my body, I will find a way back to you. And that's more than a promise, it's a guarantee."
Han had wholly opened his heart to her, laying it at her feet, and it left Leia overcome with emotion. Tears that had immediately filled her eyes the moment he said the word 'love' now streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks. "Han…I…I…" She struggled to get any words out at all through the torrent of tears — tears of love and gratitude, of fulfillment and pain, of joy previously unimagined mingled with the imminent sorrow of loss equally as deep. "You know—" Her voice choked off into a gasp, but she fought to tamp down her crying at least long enough to respond to his heartfelt declaration. "You must know — that I — I—"
"Shh," he gently silenced her. They were both physically spent, and she was only exhausting herself further in her efforts to tell him in kind, struggling not only against tears but through the weight of years' worth of fear, trauma, and suppressed emotion. The words weren't necessary anyhow; to him, it was already as clear as anything had ever been, without her needing to speak it at all.
He kissed Leia's temple and cradled her head to his chest again, gently rocking her. "It's alright, mielo. I do know." Han tucked her back under his chin and took one of her braided loops in hand, toying with her soft hair, memorizing the feeling. "I know, Sweetheart. I know."
AN: This story is continuing after Bespin, but there will be some time jumps. I won't be covering the carbonite chamber scene as this fic was always meant to be about filling in "missing moments" and I feel ESB already did an excellent job showing us what happened there.
I can't say as of yet how many more individual chapters there will be but I can tell you I have four more sections in the works: (1) set very shortly after ESB ends, with Leia and Luke just having rejoined the Alliance fleet; (2) set in the immediate aftermath of ROTJ's opening scene with Han freshly unfrozen on the Falcon and Home One; (3) set on Endor pre-battle; (4) set on Endor post-Battle.