A/N: Many thanks to my beta-reader, Jenny CBS!
I couldn't do this without your support! Hats off also to my friends on the
Discord chat. Y'all bring such fun into my life! I hope you enjoy this little
seven-chapter story that sort of fits Zyra’s holiday challenge at
hanleiafanficwriters.blogspot.com. Updates will be frequent, because the whole
thing is done. Finally!
For those of you who don't know me, please
note that I don't adhere to Disney canon or sad parts of Legends. All my
stories will be OT compliant only, or AUs rooted in the OT. This one fits the
latter category, with Legends kids and my own timeline. Don't like? Then you
should read something else, a story that makes you happy. There are so many
fics out there, just waiting to be enjoyed!
Reviews not only are welcome, they are
treasured! I will keep each one close to my heart, no matter how short.
And now, without further ado, I present to
you…
Second
Time Around
Chapter 1
Leia raised her eyebrow and placed her hand on
her hip. She looked back at Han. “It’s a bit small, don't you think?”
Pushing their luggage cart, Han crossed the
short entryway, surveyed their quarters for the night, and realized that Leia
was right. Directly to his right was the bed, which faced a dresser with a
holoscreen on top. Crammed between the other side of the bed and the far wall
was a loveseat and kaffe table. Behind him on either side of the door were the
fresher and a mirrored closet.
“Well, what’d you expect, Sweetheart? It’s
late,” Han grunted as he heaved a suitcase off the overloaded cart and onto the
floor of the hotel room. “Not my fault that they messed up our reservation.”
Nodding her head in resignation, Leia stared
at the only bed, a queen-sized one. “And this is our only option. So we'll have
to make do.”
“Yeah,” Han grumbled, wiping sweat from his
brow.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Vacations
are supposed to be fun, but this ain't fun, Han
thought to himself. He had planned this trip as a surprise for his lovely
overworked wife, hoping that this visit would have fewer complications than
their first. “So far, not so good,” he mused in frustration, regretting his
choice to travel under assumed identities. The benefit of anonymity, of course,
was privacy, but the unintended side-effect included losing their suite to what
appeared to be a Zeltron bachelorette party.
Turning back to the cart, Han reached for
another bag just as a small force darted out of the fresher, careening into his
legs and nearly toppling him over.
“Hey! Calm down, little buddy,” Han exclaimed,
reaching for the five year-old mischief-maker, but the boy dodged to the right,
then scrambled onto the bed.
“Sorry, Daddy! Come play with me!” he
exclaimed, giggling as he bounced to his feet and began jumping. Noticing
Anakin’s joyful exuberance, Han felt his exasperation begin to fade. An
uncontrollable urge to grin overtook him, and he covered his mouth and turned
away, not wanting to encourage his son’s considerable energy at this hour.
His smile suppressed, Han turned back around,
ready to admonish Anakin. At that moment, Leia looked up from her unpacking at
the foot of the bed and gave their son The Look, a pointed expression that
tended to inspire both respect as well as a sprinkling of dread in its
recipients. “Anakin! You need to stop. People are sl…”
The door swung open, hitting the door jamb
with a bang and two figures burst into the room. Startled, Han instinctively
grabbed for his currently absent blaster, then stopped himself, realizing their
identities, but not before slamming his funny bone on the luggage cart.
Tingling pain shot down his arm, and he rubbed his elbow. He attempted to smile
at their seven-year-old twins, but it felt more like a forced grimace.
Jaina’s excitement boiled over first. “MOM!
DAD! THERE ARE VENDING MACHINES DOWN THE HALL!”
“AND AN ICE MAKER! CAN WE…?” Jacen began.
“Shhh…” Still holding Anakin’s arm, Leia held
a finger to her lips as she spoke to their children. “Inside voices! People are
sleep…”
Jacen continued in a quieter yet still excited
tone, while Jaina smiled encouragingly at him. “Ok, ok. Can we get Super Sugar
Blasts…”
“...or Zamberry Nerfherders?” Jaina finished
her twin’s question, looking hopefully at her mother.
Leia shook her head and responded, “Not
tonight. It’s bed time for you three.”
“I want a Wookiee Cookie,” Anakin chimed in,
now sitting next to their mother on the bed, appearing quite interested in the
topic his siblings had introduced.
“Pleeeeease?” All three wheedled
simultaneously, their hands pressed together as if the Goddess might assist
them in their quest for goodies.
Shaking his still-tingling arm and laughing
darkly, Han turned to them and replied with a stern “No.”
Two little faces gazed at their father, eyes
wide and lips turned down in disappointment. The third, the oldest, albeit by
only five minutes, changed her strategy. She picked up the ice bucket from the
dresser. Grasping it in both hands and holding it to her chest as if it were a
prized possession, she squared her shoulders and said in a voice beyond her
years, “I'll get some ice so you two can have a refreshing glass of ice water,
and while I'm there, I'll get treats for everyone.” Jaina smiled expectantly,
glancing from her father to her mother and back again.
Han shook his head. “No. Any more sugar and
none of us will sleep.” He pointed at his daughter and smiled. “Nice try
though.”
“We all need our rest so we won't be too tired
to do fun things tomorrow,” Leia explained as she reached into the suitcase and
pulled out pajamas for each of them. “There are many places to explore on Ord
Mantell.”
----------------------------------------
Chapter 2
Their nighttime routine completed, Han tucked
the still-giggling twins into their “bed,” which in reality was a makeshift
sleeping pallet that the kids had constructed on the floor in the far corner of
the room, using all the actual bed’s covers except the bottom sheet. It wasn't
very soft, with only a folded blanket between their little bodies and the
floor, but the twins seemed thrilled with their creation.
“It's like camping,” a smiling Jaina remarked
as she crawled under the sheet and snuggled her head into her pillow.
Jacen poked his head up from where he lay
beside his sister. “Yeah! Can we go camping? I wanna go camping for real!”
“How ‘bout we see how well tonight goes
first,” Han replied with a chuckle, then looked over at Anakin. “Lie down, pal.
You’re not gonna sleep like that.”
Leia leaned over to kiss Anakin. Their
youngest sat in a jumble of covers on the loveseat, which had pulled out to
become a single bunk, thus at least partially solving their sleep space
problem. She knew immediately what he was about to say even before she noticed
his big saucer-shaped eyes.
“But I’m not tired!”
“Neither are we,” exclaimed the floor
sleepers.
Han smiled at them and shook his head. “We’ve
been flying for 17 hours. I’m tired,
so you’re definitely tired!”
In years past, he would have scoffed at
feeling worn out after flying for that relatively short amount of time.
Traveling with Chewie across the galaxy was one thing, he reminded himself.
Traveling with kids? That was something else.
“Good night, kids. We love you.” Leia dimmed
the lights to low and turned the air circulation to high, both for comfort and
for the system’s sound muffling qualities. She followed Han to the entryway,
stepping around the cart to stand near the door.
Han and Leia faced each other, and she smiled
up at him as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to return
the luggage cart and bring back extra bedding. You need anything?”
A shiver of excitement traveled down Leia’s
spine in response to Han’s low murmur. Even after so many years together, that
voice never ceased to thrill her. She slipped her hands between them and placed
them on his chest. Flashing a flirty grin, she glanced up at him through her
eyelashes and whispered her reply. “What do you have in mind, Captain?” Her
eyes flickered in the direction of their children, then back to his hazel ones.
“Given our current situation, of course.”
“Plenty.” Han responded with a lopsided grin
and her heart skipped a beat. “But the good stuff will have to wait.”
“I know,” Leia replied. She stood on her
tiptoes, ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, drawing him toward
her, their lips meeting in a light yet lingering kiss. Pulling away, her eyes
met his and she gave a little smile. “Don’t be long,” she said in a breathless
tone, and her smile grew when she felt his heart rate increase in response.
They disengaged, and Leia opened the door for
her husband. He pulled the cart into the hallway, winking at her on his way
out. She thought she might melt.
Once the door closed, Leia crept over to the
dresser, slowly opened a drawer and rifled through her clothing. Unable to see
more than dark amorphous shapes, she chose two items that felt like the sleep
shorts and camisole she'd packed. Soft, well-worn, and rather modest, Han had
jokingly deemed them her “family friendly” pajamas, as they differed greatly in
style from those she donned when they were alone together.
-------------------------------------
Chapter 3
Han had not returned by the time she was ready
for bed, so Leia stood in the almost-darkness of their room, considering her
choices. She wanted to read from her datapad, as she did most nights before
sleeping in Han’s arms... or not sleeping, as proximity and caresses often led
to more active behaviors. A warm sensation began to spread through her body as
her mind drifted to the latter. But as lovemaking was a non-option in their
current predicament, Leia turned her attention back to more realistic
possibilities.
She could lie down on the bare mattress and
try to sleep as she waited for Han’s return, a wise idea given that the kids
were early risers despite their late night. But after a full day of travel and
kids and logistics, she felt wired rather than tired. She knew that if she
closed her eyes in an attempt to drift off, her mind would do the opposite,
bringing problems to solve and ideas to remember. And she would remain wide
awake.
She could watch Holonet, but it would have to
be on silent, and even then it would emit light, as would her datapad, no doubt
attracting the attention of young eyes. Her ears attuned to anything that might
relate to her children, Leia glanced in the direction of their sleeping
arrangement. The rustling of sheets indicated that the kids had not yet fallen
asleep, and Leia did not wish to encourage their wakefulness. She made her
decision.
With a sigh of resignation, she turned to her
right and entered her destination for the evening.
The fresher.
As the door closed behind her, the lights came
on, flooding the small tile room with brightness. Leia squinted until her eyes
began to adjust, then took a plush white towel from the shelf above the closed
toilet, spread it on the lid for a bit of comfort, and sat down. Wondering what
was taking Han so long, she looked longingly at the bathtub, imagining the
soothing sensation of warm water, foaming bath salts, and her husband’s hands
working wonders on her skin.
However, given that the kids were still awake,
she knew that a bath at this moment might not be a relaxing one. She picked up
her datapad from the counter, selected a juicy article on the latest holostar
gossip, and began to read.
Thunk.
Thunk. Thunk. Even with the white noise of the air
circulator, Leia heard kid antics and laughter.
She sprang to her feet and dashed into the
dimly-lit bedroom just in time to see the giggling twins flop down onto their
pillows and pull the blanket over their heads. Anakin lay face-down and
spread-eagle in the middle of the still-vibrating mattress, pressing on it with
his arms and legs as if attempting to stop the motion and hide the evidence of
their misbehavior.
Leia wasn’t fooled. She placed her hands on
her hips and addressed all three of them. “No jumping!”
Then, she looked at Anakin. “Bed,” she said
sternly, pointing to his sleeping arrangement on the loveseat. His eyes flashed
wide open in response, and he obeyed.
Leia looked at her children, now lying
motionless. An Alderaanian saying played in her mind, one that she had heard
from her parents on many occasions: “Never go to bed angry.” Sensing their tension, her own irritation
melted away, overshadowed by her unconditional love for them. She knelt beside
the twins’ pallet on the floor, pulled their blanket back from their faces,
then tucked it snugly around them, kissing each of them on the forehead. Then,
she made her way to Anakin’s bedside and did the same with him.
Gazing at the three of them curled up in their
covers, she prompted them. “Guess how much I love you.”
Three little voices, well-versed in their
mother's favorite children's story, chanted the next line in unison. “How
much?”
“I love you to the moon… and back,” she
replied as she reset the lights, this time to almost total darkness.
-------------------------------------
Chapter 4
Leia placed her datapad on the counter,
crossed her arms, and frowned. Forty-two minutes had passed since Han’s
departure. She huffed in frustration, wondering what in seven hells he could be
doing to be gone for so long with such simple tasks of getting bedding and
returning a luggage cart. A sliver of worry crept into her thoughts. Their
lives had been inundated with chaos and destruction in the years immediately
following the first Death Star. Although the Empire had been defeated on Endor,
heralding a new era of peace and fair government, fresh dangers occasionally
had threatened their new stability, and Han still had enemies from his former
association with the criminal underbelly of society. And here they were, back
on Ord Mantell, where fear and pain had shut down their joy and passion.
Trying to quell the growing tickle of anxiety
in her gut, Leia reached for her comm and looked at the small data screen. One missed transmission, it read. From
the time log, she realized that it had come through while she was getting the
kids back in bed.
And then she saw the message. “Miss me yet?”
His words were followed by a small symbol, a stylized winking cartoon
face.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Leia’s tension
dissipated at his cheeky tone. “Han, where are you?” she typed.
His reply flashed across the screen almost
immediately. “I knew it. You miss me!” A cartoon face again accompanied his
message, but this time its mouth was an impossibly large smile.
She rolled her eyes, then chuckled as she sent
her response. “No, really. Where are you?”
“Downstairs, but I’d rather be with you. Kids
sleepin’ yet?” The face had been replaced by a red heart of the same size.
Leia grinned and shook her head, not as an
answer to his question, but in reaction to her husband's expressiveness. She
looked at her chronometer, then typed, “No sounds from the bedroom in 27
minutes, so I think we're in the clear.”
“Good. Figured it’s best for me to sneak back
in once they’re out cold.”
She raised her eyebrow and pecked out her
reply. “Ah, so that’s why you stayed away. The comfortable chairs and fireplace
in the lobby had nothing to do with it.”
“Nah, Sweetheart. Too busy for that. I’m
gettin’ something for you!” Another symbol followed his message. Leia looked
carefully. It appeared to be a tiny cartoon image of a gift-wrapped box.
“Oh? And what might it be?” She smiled as she
responded, then added little hearts at the end, simply because she knew he
would like them. She shook her head. Who would guess that Han Solo, with all
his outward bravado, was so enamoured with datamojis?
“You’ll see. Back soon.” [Winky face, heart]
----------------------------------
Chapter 5
With the kids sound asleep and Han returning
soon, Leia decided to make room for him on the room's only “seat” by drawing a
bath for herself. Yes, it was somewhat risky, in that a child might need to use
the fresher, but she had pulled the curtain closed. And a bath really was the
most practical choice, she told herself. Any pleasure she derived would be
simply a secondary result, a happy accident.
Leia slipped into the water, leaning backward
until its warmth caressed her face and her long chestnut locks floated freely
around her. Running her fingers through her hair, she resurfaced, then reclined
her head and shoulders against the cool porcelain of the the small rectangular
tub. She stretched her arms in front of her and rested them along the sides.
Her skin tingled as the foaming bath salts dissolved, their floral fragrance
permeating the air and stimulating memories too intimate to be preserved in a
holo-album.
She recalled a natural hot spring shimmering
under a blanket of stars, which had provided a welcome respite from Hoth’s
bitter cold. That long-ago supply run to Naboo had been an escape from their
comrades, whose intense curiosity she and Han couldn’t avoid while on base.
They weren’t together… publicly. In private, however, their interactions had
progressed beyond friendship and flirting. Having spent her entire life under
the galactic spotlight, Leia had wanted to keep their romance under wraps for a
while longer, as something special, just for them.
The opening and closing of the hotel room door
interrupted Leia’s reverie, and she opened her eyes as the fresher door
swooshed wide, then shut, its locking mechanism clicking into place.
“Hey Sweetheart.”
A large hand pulled the curtain back,
revealing the tall, handsome form of her husband. His eyes roved over the parts
of her not obscured by the thin sheen of bubbles, then lingered on her
barely-concealed breasts.
“You’re late.”
“Looks like I arrived at the perfect time.”
Han placed a crinkled tan package on the counter, then sat down on the closed
toilet. “An’ I got the best seat in the house.”
Leia raised her eyebrow. “What’s in the bag,
Hotshot?”
He reached back to retrieve it. “Got somethin’
for you.” His twinkling eyes and lopsided smile made her heart skip. Their
gazes locked on each other, and after a few seconds, Leia noticed that he'd
made no further effort in regard to the gift, its packaging still hiding the
mysterious contents.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Han countered.
“Are you going to show it to me?” Leia
responded, with a coy tilt to her head.
Han glanced at the bag, then back at Leia.
“You want this,” he teased in that soft baritone voice that never failed to
send a wave of pleasure through her body.
“Scoundrel.”
“Who, me?” Han pointed at himself, his
expression one of mock disbelief. “I’m a nice man.”
“No, you're not,” Leia admonished as she held
his gaze. “You’re a scoundrel, making me wait.” Her lips were pursed in a pout,
yet twitching to grin as she suppressed a rising urge to giggle at their
familiar words.
“Whatcha gonna do about it, Princess?”
“Mmm…” A flush of anticipation spread through
Leia’s body. She fingered the facecloth that lay under her hand, inhaling
deeply as she reminded herself that their current situation wasn’t conducive to
a night of passion. But as playful possibilities began to dawn on her, Leia’s
eyes sparkled with mischief. She immersed the cloth in the bath, then looked at
Han, whose lopsided grin made her flush. Yes, she wanted the package. But
mostly, she wanted his soft lips moving against her lips and his talented hands
roving over her body. And if she had to work for it, then so be it.
Leia tilted her head, then lifted the dampened
fabric to her exposed neck, savoring the sensation as well as her husband’s
rapt attention. Warm water ran along her skin, traveling over her collarbone
and following the rise of her chest before merging with the bubbly surface. Han
swallowed hard, his intense gaze generating a flutter of excitement. With lips
turned up in muted delight, Leia raised her knee, then slowly extended her leg
out of the water as she smoothed the cloth over her glistening skin.
She closed her eyes, relishing the soft
warmth. Calloused fingers cupped her heel, then enveloped her ankle, and she
opened her eyes to see Han now sitting on the side of the tub. He grasped her
foot with his other hand, and began gently massaging her toes. Continuing to
support her ankle, he gradually brushed a hand along her lower leg, kneading
her calf with sensuous ministrations that made her pulse quicken. A niggling
concern about their current close quarters inched its way into Leia’s
awareness, and she pushed it away, distracted and desirous for more.
“You like this,” Han murmured. His careful
attentions softened to a delicate touch while he began to move both hands up
her leg.
“Mmm…” Leia closed her eyes, enjoying the heat
of their abiding attraction.
Han’s fingers grazed her knee and trailed
slowly upward toward more intimate areas, one hand reaching her waist while the
other massaged her inner thigh. Leia arched her back and his thumb brushed the
underside of her breast. She gasped, her body craving more, much more. But she
knew that her desires could not be fulfilled here and now.
She lifted her head and saw that Han's
expression was no longer playful. His eyes, now darkened with need, mirrored
the fantasies galloping through her mind. If he could join her in the bath, she
would move to straddle him… Her thoughts were
jumbled, and she sifted through the fragments to remember her original goal:
the package.
Leia struggled for a moment to find words.
Han's face was moving ever-closer to hers, now mere centims away. “You didn't
answer my question,” she whispered.
Han sat back slightly, and Leia noticed his
eyes raking over her body once more. "What..." he began, his voice
foggy as if with sleep, then cleared his throat. "What question?"
Leia grinned, pleased that their passion had
derailed his brain as well as hers. She looked leadingly toward the neglected
bag, now lying on its side by the door.
Han’s eyes followed hers, and a sheepish smile
crossed his face. “Oh, yeah.” He picked it up from the floor, and began to
unfurl the top.
“Bedding’s in the room, by the way. We got the
last comforter, but I know you'll still stick your frozen toes under my legs
anyway.”
“Han, I only do that on ice planets.”
“That's ‘cause you know I'm hot.”
Leia rolled her eyes, and Han’s expression
turned mock-serious. “Leia Amidala Organa Solo, you will sprain your eyeballs
if you keep doing that.”
She laughed at his rather accurate
impersonation of a statement she had repeated several times to the twins of
late.
Han pulled out a bottle of ale and placed it
on the counter. “Corellia’s Finest,” he said, reading the label, then grinned
at her. “Hey, it’s me!”
Leia raised an eyebrow, then squinted as she
made out the other words. “Does that say... Butt Cheek Brewing Company?”
“Yep. Classy little operation out in the
countryside. Brewmasters are a bunch of ladies who really know their stuff. But
I have something else for you.” He took a small dark bottle out of the bag.
“This ain't much, but it fits the occasion.”
Upon first glance, it seemed to be an
inexpensive bottle of red wine, the kind available at most every fueling
station. But then Leia noticed the script on the white label, which read 10 Years. She smiled up at her husband,
then read the smaller print: Celebrating
a decade of fine wines by Mantelli Vineyards.
“Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.” Han's deep
voice sent shivers down her spine.
“I love you,” Leia replied, watching curiously
as Han turned to place the bottle on the counter, then reached for another
object beside the sink. He proceeded to remove the wrapper, revealing a
plastene cup. Tossing the trash into the small receptacle in the corner, he
picked up the bottle again, then began to pour its content into the clear cup.
Leia suppressed a laugh when she realized that
she and Han were about to celebrate their anniversary, their tenth anniversary, by drinking cheap
alcohol in a tiny hotel fresher. Not wanting to insult his effort to present a
meaningful gift, she concealed her grin with her hand, then found herself
distracted by a sensuous mouth, a strong jawline, stubbly skin she longed to
touch, and hazel eyes that were looking into her own.
“See something you want, Your Highness?” He
leaned forward, offering the drink to her.
Her gaze flicked to the cup, then back to her
husband. She raised an eyebrow. “Fancy.”
“Hey, it could be worse!” Han quipped as she
took the cup from his outstretched hand. “You could have to drink out of the
bottle!” He winked, then gave his bottle of ale a slight tip in her direction
before taking a swig.
A small grin tugged at her lips as she watched
her husband swallow, his Adam's apple moving up and down. She held her cup just
under her nose, swirled the contents, and inhaled, noticing the spicy yet sweet
aroma. Considering his joking declaration, she sipped her wine, savoring the
intermingling full-bodied, complex flavors.
“True. We’ve endured quite a bit of worse.”
Her voice now soft, she glanced from her drink back to Han and continued. “No
regrets?”
“No regrets, Sweetheart,” he replied.
They looked at each other for a moment, and
the sincerity of his words filled her awareness, resonating with her own
sentiments about their life together. Leia grinned, and stretched her legs
until her toes touched the end of the tub. She wiggled them. It wasn’t that she
ever doubted his feelings for her; he had demonstrated his devotion to her—to
their family—innumerable times. However, it felt good to hear him say it.
“I’d let you marry a gorgeous guy like me all over
again.” Han looked pleased with himself.
Raising an eyebrow, Leia replied, “I'm not
sure we could squeeze a third wedding between your assignments, my meetings,
and the kids’ Jedi training.”
“Good thing you finished your own training, or
we’d really be swamped.”
“True.” Leia smiled, then took another sip of
her wine. “And it's a good thing that our first trip here was postponed or this
may have happened very differently.”
“You mean we wouldn’t be drinking in a hotel
bathroom on our anniversary? ‘Cause I’d rather celebrate another way.”
Leia rolled her eyes at his exaggerated leer.
“Well, so would I. But that's not what I'm saying. When the original Ord
Mantell supply run was planned, I'd just finally let myself like you.”
Even at that early point in their
acquaintance, Leia had known that her feelings for Han greatly exceeded like, but after losing everyone she
loved, she had feared opening herself to the possibility of more loss and pain.
Then there had been the guilt... She’d not permitted herself to pursue
something as frivolous as romance after the Empire had destroyed her planet and
victory seemed nowhere in sight. But then, the handsome smuggler from the
garbage smasher had found his way to her heart. They'd endured many obstacles
together, yet he had remained at her side, first as a courageous and steadfast
friend, and eventually as a lover.
Leia’s eyes moved to the cup in her hand, and
she remembered the long-ago Hoth day when she first acted on her growing
feelings for Han. Protected only by thin gloves, her hands had been bone cold in Alderaanian terms, so cold
that she could barely feel her fingers, even after Han had invited her onto the
Falcon. Although she’d attempted to
conceal her discomfort, Han had noticed. Leia had felt as if time stopped when
he took her hands in his. She remembered thinking, Oh, yes, as he’d pulled her closer.
Although the moment had been lost when an
exasperated Wookiee interrupted them, Leia had stayed, and Han had served her
favorite drink, hot chocolate. He’d also given her his much thicker gloves. The
warmth of Han’s gifts had been more than physical; his kindness had comforted
her lonely soul. So she'd mustered her resolve and asked him to accompany her
on the Ord Mantell supply run. When he accepted, she'd felt both elated and
relieved, as if the two of them had found and placed a missing puzzle piece.
Being with Han felt right. The kiss she’d placed on his cheek, although
innocent, marked the beginning of a very different type of relationship and a
new world for both of them.
Shortly thereafter, Leia had fallen ill, as
had almost half the base personnel. She hadn’t been surprised when Command had
cancelled that initial mission. However, despite her fever and weakness, she’d
been frustrated and disappointed rather than thankful at the chance to recuperate.
But Han had taken good care of her during and after her recovery. Very good care, she mused. And she had
reciprocated.
Then, six months later, High Command had
rescheduled the Ord Mantell run, sending Han and Leia to this “land of casinos
and nature’s wonders,” as Han had described it. There, they had met with their
supplier, a fellow Alderaanian who owned a large orchard just outside of the
city in the foothills of the Juvel Mountains.
They’d spent a bright afternoon together,
filling the Falcon’s cargo hold with crates of much-needed tangelina and limon
fruits. Han had taken Leia’s hand, but this time she wore no gloves. She could
feel the calluses on his work-roughened hands as he rubbed his thumb tenderly
across her palm.
“Got somethin’ to tell you.” His serious tone
made her stomach drop.
Was he
leaving?
“Come ‘ere.”
Gripped by uncertainty, she glanced up. At the
sight of his grin, hope had replaced anxiety.
Han had led her toward a grove of fruit trees
with large orange and white blossoms. There, as they faced each other under the
fragrant branches, he’d taken her other hand. “I’m stayin’ with you. An’ with
the Alliance.”
Leia recalled how her heart had leapt, how
she'd thrown her arms around him and kissed him despite the fact that they
hadn't yet made their romance public. In that moment, she wouldn't have cared if
the entire Alliance had seen them.
And their kisses had deepened once they
returned to the privacy of the Falcon. What wickedly wonderful things they'd
done with each other that night… Those memories still made her face flush and
her body tingle.
She and Han had finally emerged from his cabin
to take a speeder into the city, one they’d borrowed from their supplier. Under
assumed identities, they’d planned to go to dinner at Paradisi, where the
finest chefs on the planet prepared unique dishes using fresh ingredients from
local orchards and farms. Given their usual diet of years-old processed and
preserved foodstuffs, eating fresh and local was an opportunity they couldn't
resist.
If only we'd not left the Falcon… The thought had occurred to Leia many times, but less frequently as the years passed and new memories—happy ones—soothed her pain.
If only we'd not left the Falcon… The thought had occurred to Leia many times, but less frequently as the years passed and new memories—happy ones—soothed her pain.
“You definitely liked me,” Han said with a
smirk, bringing her attention back to the present. “Just took you a while to
admit it.”
Leia rolled her eyes. “A long while,” she
quipped. Her thoughts flashed to images of exchanges relatively early in their…
what would she call it? Friendship was too standoffish, and relationship was too open. Past platonic
but not yet a couple...
As if he had read her mind, Han chuckled and
shook his head. “We were somethin’ then, but we sure didn't know what.”
Leia sniffed her wine again, then ran a finger
around the rim of the cup. “We were wasting time. Two-and-a-half years...”
“Nah, Sweetheart. It wasn't a waste. We just
got to know each other real well.” Han waggled his eyebrows at her.
Leia huffed in amusement. She still very much
enjoyed their gentle banter. At the beginning, their intense interactions had
been fortified by their mutual strong feelings for each other, which neither
had been willing to acknowledge. Even then, she had found those encounters
energizing for reasons that she had refused to say, even to herself.
Leia looked up at her husband. “You could be a
real nerfherder sometimes. But I wasn’t perfect either.” She smiled. “I knew
there was more to you than money.”
-------------------------------
Chapter 6
Still seated on the hard lid of the toilet,
Han took another drink, then set the now-empty
ale bottle on the counter. He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back,
stretching out his aching back and legs. His eyes were drawn back to the lovely
figure in the bath, and he concluded that the view was well worth any
discomfort.
Leia smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.
Through the bubbles, he glimpsed hints of those curves he longed to touch. Han
swallowed. He would have done just about anything for her to rise out of the
water, with the thin layer of soap running down her glistening form, gradually
revealing beauty that only they knew. She’d step out of the bath, and he would
caress her soft skin with a warm, dry towel, then entice her to bed and....
Leia brought the cup of wine to her slightly
parted lips and took a sip. “Happy anniversary, Hotshot. Too bad this tub isn't
like the one in our honeymoon suite. We would have made much better use of it.”
Her sultry voice nearly convinced Han to turn
his fantasies into reality, right then and there.
Han blinked. “Uh, yeah,” he rasped then
cleared his throat.
Leia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Pitten’s
got your tongue?”
Refusing to concede defeat to his wife’s
teasing remark, Han grinned back at her. “Pita? Nah. We left her at home.
Probably tearing up the curtains right now.”
“She's with Chewie, Han.”
“Probably tearing up HIS curtains then.”
Leia winced.
Han laughed. “There's a reason we named her
Pita.” He raised his eyebrows. “Pain-in-the-ass.”
Leia leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling.
“I know, I know,” she groaned. “Chewie seems to like her though, and at least
the kids still think she’s named after the flatbread they like so much.”
Han shrugged. “Same color.”
“They’re smart kids. They’ll figure it out at
some point.”
He raised a finger and smiled. “But not yet.”
Leia’s lips turned up as she gazed into her
cup of wine. Very little was left. She placed it on the side of the tub, then
immersed her arms into the water, running her hands down her thighs. She tilted
her head and looked up at Han through thick lashes. “I don’t want to talk about
pets or kids,” she said.
“So what do ya wanna do, Princess?” Those deep
brown eyes… that luxurious hair… that seductive body… Han knew what he wanted
to do.
Leia reached for her cup and finished the last
sip, then held the cup toward him. He took it from her and placed it on the
counter next to the empty bottles.
She folded her arms, and rubbed her biceps.
“I’m cold.”
His fantasies now muted by mild concern, Han
moved forward and crouched next to his wife. You’re in a bath. How can you be cold? He hoped she hadn’t
contracted Findris Flu. But once he dipped his hand in the water and realized
that it had cooled, he grinned in relief. “Still warmer than Echo Base
showers.”
“That’s not saying much, Han.” She curled her
legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
With gentle fingers, Han took her small hand
in his, finding her skin cool to the touch. “You're trembling,” he murmured.
Shaking her head, Leia gave a small grin. “I’m
not trembling.”
He kissed her quivering hand. “Yes, you are.
Let’s warm you up, Sweetheart.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, then turned
away to reach a towel on the shelf behind the fresher seat.
Potential ways to warm Leia up flashed through
his mind. Skin-to-skin contact—their bodies pressed together with limbs
entwined—was usually his favorite strategy. But that required an element they
lacked at the moment: privacy.
Idiots. Han once again silently cursed the hotel reservations department for
their abrupt room change.
“Han?”
Leia’s voice pulled him back to the present.
Glancing in her direction, he became transfixed by the very real vision
standing before him. A lopsided grin stole across his face as his eyes roamed
over her body. She’d risen and stepped out of the tub. Her long, damp hair hung
over her shoulders and down her back, with escaped tendrils hugging her curves
like chestnut waves painted on alabaster skin. She placed a hand on her hip, on
that smooth, wet skin he longed to touch.
“Han!”
Her emphatic tone caught his attention, yet
all he could do was utter, “Huh,” while continuing to admire her.
Leia eyed him patiently. “May I have that
towel?” She motioned toward the fluffy white one in his hands.
Han had forgotten that he was even holding a
towel. The fleeting thought occurred to him that he'd rather not hide her
lovely body, but she was cold, and he couldn't have that. “‘Course,” he
rumbled, then opened the towel with a flourish. “It's all yours, Sweetheart.”
Leia turned so that her back faced him, and
Han at once wrapped the soft cloth around her, delighting in how she leaned
into his chest. He kissed her temple. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured in her
ear.
“I like the sound of that.”
-------------------------------
Chapter 7
“Ready?” Leia asked.
“Always.” Spoken from directly behind her,
Han’s baritone voice in her loosely braided hair sparked a thrill that reached
her toes. She felt his strong hands grasp her hips, pressing his firm body to
hers.
“Han!” Her words came out in a whispered
giggle.
Han laughed, and her breath caught as he
kissed her neck. “Sorry, Sweetheart. We don't have space for anything else.”
Leia exhaled and closed her eyes for a moment.
“If only…” she began to imagine before reality returned to her awareness. She gave her head a quick shake, set her jaw,
and refocused her attention on their mission: exiting the fresher and getting
into bed without disturbing the kids. Although they already had donned their
sleep clothes, thus increasing their chance of success, she knew they could
never be too careful.
Ready for the task at hand, Leia turned and
looked up at her husband. His hazel eyes and lopsided grin once again made her
heart skip, and she found herself lamenting the existence of his sleep shorts
and t-shirt. She blinked, momentarily escaping her distracting thoughts. “Shall
we?”
“Alright. Let's do this.”
With one hand still on her waist, Han dimmed
the fresher lights until the small room was cast in a low glow. Leia palmed the
door open, and they peered into the darkness toward the sleeping area. Unable
to see anything, she paused for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust, and felt
the warmth of Han’s hands on her shoulders. She then opened her mind to their
children, sensing their peaceful presences.
“Out cold,” Leia whispered as she crept into
the bedroom with Han following behind her, carrying the extra blankets he’d
picked up earlier. She placed her hand on the wall and then the bed as she
stepped forward, an old habit rendered unnecessary by her Jedi training, but it
was comforting nonetheless.
Han plopped the bedding on their mattress,
which in turn made rather non-mattress-like sounds.
"Ow...," a child's voice groaned.
"Wanna cookie," another one mumbled.
A third whined unintelligible syllables.
"Wanna cookie," another one mumbled.
A third whined unintelligible syllables.
Then, in the faint light from the fresher,
Leia watched with dread as the bed appeared to come to life. Dark, moving lumps
reminded her of a campy horror holoflick she'd seen as a university student
where a glob of black slime grew as it engulfed sentient after sentient. She'd
laughed at the silliness then, but these blanket-covered amorphous masses were
real.
Her battle instincts were activated, and she
froze. Glancing at Han’s silhouette, she saw that he had done the same. They
were in a dangerous predicament. Never
wake a sleepin’ kid was the old Corellian saying, and they were on the cusp
of waking three.
There they remained, motionless and barely
daring to breathe, for what seemed like forever. Despite her concern, Leia's
lips turned upward as an image of Threepio came to mind, complete with his
clipped voice reporting their dwindling odds of a restful night in each other's
arms.
Finally, the lumps stilled. Leia closed her
eyes, again observing the children’s mental states through the Force. Anakin’s
mind felt serene. His consciousness had quieted and turned inward; his
breathing and heart rate had slowed. Clearly, he was asleep. She turned her
attention to the twins, finding their brains at ease, but still somewhat aware.
Leia frowned. She really wanted everyone to be well-rested for the days to
follow, and she knew from past experiences that the twins were likely to awaken
soon. She considered her ability to manipulate their brains into sleep states.
It was something she and Han had joked about, especially during their
sleep-deprived early parenting days. But despite the temptation, Leia had never
done it, preferring to use her Force abilities to understand and comfort their
children rather than to actively control their minds.
She only engaged in the latter if their safety
was at risk, which unfortunately was a rather frequent occurrence in the
Organa-Solo household. Leia recalled how only last week she'd dashed from the
cockpit to check on the kids in the all-too-quiet lounge. She'd had a bad
feeling about what she'd find.
"Stop!" Her shout had echoed in her head as well as her ears. A surge of power had flowed from her to her children, familiar and practiced, yet no less emphatic.
All three had frozen over the disassembled dejarik table, its wires dangling in haphazard patterns from the open top.
Jacen had straightened his posture and then spoken. "It's not our fault! It won't work, and Dad's busy!”
"So we're helping," Jaina had added.
"Stop!" Her shout had echoed in her head as well as her ears. A surge of power had flowed from her to her children, familiar and practiced, yet no less emphatic.
All three had frozen over the disassembled dejarik table, its wires dangling in haphazard patterns from the open top.
Jacen had straightened his posture and then spoken. "It's not our fault! It won't work, and Dad's busy!”
"So we're helping," Jaina had added.
Leia smiled at the memory as the soft rustle
of careful movement caught her attention. She opened her eyes to see Han's dark
figure reaching for the bedding. “Not yet,” Leia whispered, and he stopped.
Jaina let out a low moan from her spot on the
side of the bed closest to Han.
Here we
go, Leia thought, closing her eyes again and taking a
deep breath as she readied herself to soothe their daughter's discomfort.
But Jaina's distress evaporated quickly, and
Leia's eyes flew open to see Han gently massaging her back. Her frown melted
into a smile as her heart filled with tenderness. Despite his difficult youth,
Han was a terrific father. More than once he'd told Leia that he wanted to give
their kids all the “good stuff” he never had, and she knew that he was
referring to love and time rather than toys. Not that Han didn't enjoy the
toys. Many evenings upon arriving home, he would join the kids in whatever they
were playing, whether it was Jedi Jeopardy, which he usually lost, or sabacc,
where they competed for sweets, or some game of pretend in which he might end
up dressed as a sparkly krayt dragon with a pink cape.
Leia suppressed the urge to laugh as she
remembered Han’s latest caper with the kids. While she’d been at a conference
one weekend, the four of them had set up a convoluted Pita-feeding contraption
stretching from the kitchen counter, through the dining room and living area,
and back to the kitchen. Seemingly random items had been employed in creative
manners, including the blender, a smashball, a mini-racetrack, copious amounts
of spacer tape, extra Falcon parts, and one of Han's boots. When Leia arrived
home, she’d immediately spotted their “invention” as well as the pitten food
splattered all over the floor. She had rolled her eyes and was about to tell
them to clean it up when Jacen greeted her with his excited appraisal: “The
best part is that it almost works!”
Another moment of silence passed. Han, still
rubbing Jaina’s back, mumbled, “I think we’re in the clear.”
Again, Leia connected with their children’s
minds, first Jaina’s, then Jacen’s and Anakin’s. Their tranquility washed into
her awareness, and she looked toward Han. “Yes. We’re good to go, Captain,” she
whispered.
“I got the magic touch, Sweetheart,” Han
replied as he slowly pulled his arms back and stood.
“You certainly have a way with them,” Leia
remarked softly, nodding toward the three sleepers.
Han stepped toward her, and she tipped her
face up, unable to see his features in the darkened room. But she felt his
tender touch when he placed his large hands on her shoulders. Deft fingers
caressed her skin as he moved one hand to her neck, his thumb grazing her
collarbone. She felt her body respond to his touch, and tilted her head to the
side, inviting further exploration.
Han chuckled, then leaned down and rumbled in
her ear. “So what’ll it be, Your Highness? The pullout or the floor?”
“Mmm…” Leia began with eyes closed, lost in
the sensation of his gentle ministrations. Then he kissed a sensitive spot just
behind her earlobe, and her breath hitched as his teasing lips traveled to her
neck. “I would say ‘neither,’’ she continued in a halting whisper, “but our
bed... has been invaded. A retreat is necess…”
Speech became impossible as Han descended on
her lips. Their kiss deepened, and Leia became vaguely aware that her hand had
somehow found refuge in his hair, while his had slipped under her shirt,
caressing her lower back.
Han's gentle pressure pushed her backward, as
she pulled him with her until the squeak of overused mattress springs caught
her attention. Leia opened her eyes and realized she was lying on the pullout
bed, her legs dangling off the edge. She yearned to wrap them around her
strapping husband, who at present lay partially on top of her, leaning on his
elbows, his fingers laced in her hair and thumbs caressing her temples.
The decision was made. Not that it mattered.
Leia could sleep with Han anywhere, and had.
Images of the unorthodox sleeping arrangements
they had endured during the Rebellion came to mind. They’d certainly slept in some
less-than-ideal places, and any surface in this room, even the closet floor or
the cold fresher tiles, would surpass every one of those. Tents and sleeping
bags had been five star hotels compared to nights spent in a cold, muddy ditch,
a large hollow tree, or a cave in a rockface just big enough for the two of
them. There’d also been the night they’d spent in the Falcon’s smuggling
compartment—indoors, but rather uncomfortable.
Despite the challenges of resting in such
environments, they all had a singular advantage, which at the time Leia had
vehemently denied, yet secretly desired: the necessity of sleeping with Han.
Even during their earliest missions together, she had felt safe with Han, and
cared for. A happy warmth spread through her body as she remembered curling up
next to the man she would eventually marry, his arms around her, his breath in
her hair, his lips on her forehead. Those pre-dawn forehead kisses—the ones he
bestowed upon her when neither was fully awake—she had relished, often allowing
herself to remain in his arms, pretending to doze, simply so the kisses might
continue.
As if he had read her thoughts, Han kissed her
lightly, his soft lips just grazing hers. Leia lifted her chin for another
kiss, but he pulled away. Confused, she shivered, already missing the warmth of
his body against hers.
“Han…” she whispered, sliding herself fully
onto the small bed.
“Hold your tauntauns, Sweetheart. We’re
forgettin’ something.”
Before she could utter a retort, thick soft
material covered her body, and Leia felt the warmth of her husband as he
crawled under the blanket. In a practiced move, she lifted her head as he
extended his arm under her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He ran a
finger along her cheek. “Better?” he asked.
“Much,” she whispered, stretching a leg across
his and placing her hand on his bare, well-toned chest. She splayed her
fingers, enjoying the sensation of his skin and his taut muscles under her
fingertips.
Then she realized that something was missing.
“Han, where’s your shirt?”
“Under my head. Kids have death-grips on all
the pillows an’ the hotel didn’t have extra.” Leia felt his body stiffen and
cool air on her skin as he began to move away from her.
“What are you doing?”
Han placed a hand on her cheek, then tucked a
loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Gettin’ something for your pretty head.”
Leia knew that he wouldn’t chance waking
anybody by prying a desired object from Force-sensitive hands, and lack of a
pillow was not her concern anyway.
“Oh, Han… No,” she whispered, pulling him back
to her and nestling into his arms again. “I just need you.”
Han chuckled. “You need me. I’ve got a good
feeling about this.”
Leia grinned into Han’s chest as she inhaled
his musky scent. Good feeling, indeed,
she thought. And Han was right. She did need him. In the aftermath of
Alderaan’s destruction, she hadn’t expected to find happiness, and now, even
after ten years of marriage, their shared story still amazed her. Fighting
side-by-side, albeit reluctantly at first, they had escaped the Death Star, had
fallen in love on a Goddess-forsaken iceball in the middle of a war, had
survived and won that war, and now were raising their three children. Together,
they had accomplished what many would have deemed impossible.
Leia raised her head and drew closer to her
husband’s handsome face. “I love you,” she murmured, her lips centims from his.
“I know.” Han paused. “I love you too.”
THE END
The
greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.
Moulin Rouge
Never
tell me the odds.
Han Solo
