Happily Ever After
KnightedRogue
Warning: Character death within.
The minute the Millennium Falcon docked, General Han Solo was out the main hatch and hurrying across the hanger. Throwing a brief glance at the cockpit, where Chewbacca was completing the shutdown sequence and simultaneously waving his partner off, Han turned and began a full hilt sprint down towards the turbolift bank of the Navy spaceport and down twenty levels to the skybridge connecting the docks with the Imperial Palace. I'm outta shape. Breathing heavily and sweating in quantities beyond what he thought physically possible, he threw himself past the glass doors of the upper division quarters and waved his ID frantically towards the security droid guarding the inside. Yeah. Way outta shape. The secondary doors opened with some mild curses and impatient sighs and Han began a slightly slower jog towards the furthest residence on the level, reaching the door and throwing a palm towards the datapad on the right of the door. As the door swished open, Solo jumped into the room, threw his blaster and holster on the floor, and began removing his uniform jacket and unbuttoning the white shirt underneath as he ran from the entrance towards the bedroom.
"I'm here, I'm here, I'm hurrying," he breathed as he crossed the room and threw the jacket and shirt into a pile at the foot of the bed. "I'll make it, I swear." He tossed the assurance over his shoulder as he grabbed the much-despised dress uniform and began the long, tedious process of buttoning, pinning, and polishing. "Hey, Your Worship," Han yelled as he turned around, "are you planning on welcoming me back or – "
He stopped.
Ah, now that's a sight for sore eyes.
Han had known that his reunion with Leia Organa would be somewhat tarnished by a harried air and formal attire, but he found that, in her case, that formal attire was not a hindrance at all. The Princess was dressed and waiting for him just outside of his closet. Swathed in a gown of purest white that reached to the ground and then dragged gracefully behind her, Leia was adorned with the look of regality and perfection. The dress had a gauzy drape over it, covering, but somehow also emphasizing, the length of her arms, anda conservative neckline. Her hair was swept up and embedded with small diadems as loose ringlets escaped a large gathering at the back of her head.
"Sure. As soon as you decide to stop calling me stupid nicknames," she smiled brilliantly at him, "nerfherder."
The teasing jibe was barely out of her mouth before Han had crossed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, sighing inwardly as he felt her slim arms circle around his neck and a hand hold the back of his head. Three weeks? Has it really been that long? He suddenly became very aware how much he had missed her, how much he hated leaving. This last circuit had been the longest yet, and he'd hated every second of it, hoping everything would be the same upon his return. He'd worried about Luke. About the Republic. About Coruscant.
But most of all, he'd worried about Leia.
He smiled against her mouth as he imagined her response to such a thought. Leia was certainly not the type to need his protection; if she had been, he probably wouldn't have fallen in love with her in the first place. But it was that relentless drive, that ambition to succeed in her endeavors that made him extremely overprotective of her. She was outspoken, independent and volatile: could take down a physical assailant and smooth over aggressive negotiations without either opponent figuring out what was happening.
Most men would be intimidated, not overprotective.
Han Solo was not most men.
He knew she didn't take care of herself when he was away, that she tended to skip meals, work late, and play insomniac into early the next morning. Do things for which she knew he would berate her were he anywhere near the system. After nearly one year together, Han was sure that he understood his princess, that he had her pegged almost as well as she got him.
Most of the time.
Stepping back from him, Leia ended the kiss and glared at him. "That's not going to work."
He was genuinely confused. "What did I do?"
"With a kiss like that, it's not a matter of what you did. It's what you want to do. And what you want to do is certainly not what we have the time for." She smiled to show him that she wasn't truly angry. "Put on your boots, Solo. The sooner we get you to the reception, the sooner I don't have to worry about you."
"You aren't going to worry about me at a formal diplomatic thing?"
She smirked. "You can't seduce me over dinner."
"Wanna bet?"
Leia laughed and wrapped her arms around him again. "I guess I should have expected that."
He jumped back out of her embrace and raised an eyebrow. "Nuh-uh. Your princess charms won't work on me, Sweetheart." He bent to retrieve his boots, straightened, and looked back at her. "You're just gonna have to wait." He mock-sighed, almost laughing at Leia's exasperated expression. "Your fault. Duty over me, always seems like. Well, see, that's what you get – "
He walked past her and sat on the bed, waged a small war with the stiff boots as Leia double-checked her appearance in the refresher and returned to stand in front of him and tousle his hair.
"You need a haircut."
He managed his right foot, although he thought he might have lost all circulation to the offended appendage. "Don't need a haircut." He looked up to her face and winked. "Scoundrel."
She played with his bangs as he switched his attention to the left boot. "How could I possibly forget?"
"I don't know, Sweetheart. Three weeks is an awful long time." He shoved his foot into the boot, grimaced as it finally made it in.
"Too long."
Han looked up as Leia dropped her hand away from his head. He sighed as he put his hands around her waist and stood up. "I missed you."
She nodded.
"I love you."
She nodded again.
Han shook his head and tried his last card. "I'm going to behave myself at dinner?"
She smiled. "No pilot stories. Nothing that could possibly warrant a court-marshal." She laughed quietly. "And no fighting with Madine."
"That was a one-time thing. And the bastard deserved it."
"Regardless, behave yourself, Han."
He smirked. "Of course, Your Highnessness. As always."
Leia seemed less than assured as they left their quarters and traveled to dinner.
Han had to admit the Great Hall was an amazing sight as Leia and he stepped through the large doors and into the cavernous room. The floor was stretched out in detailed, intricate tile and the walls were painted with a soft ethereal glow that created the almost impossible aura of intimacy in the single largest room in the Imperial Palace. Glass and glitterfab lined the chandeliers high above their heads, interrupting the light and manifesting it in curious designs throughout the hall, onto the small contingent of dancers below.
Allowing his eyes to roam over the scene as Leia squeezed his bicep and left to talk with Carlist Rieekan, Han took in the enormity of the hall and felt a brief spasm of fear jolt through him as he surveyed the wide, and simultaneously vulnerable, center floor. Then he snapped from his instinctual panic and concentrated on the actual guests to calm himself. Idiot, this is a high-up event. No one is here who shouldn't be.
Following that train of thought. Han glanced around to the others in attendance. Mon Mothma, he could spot her easily in the crowd. Admiral Ackbar was also fairly easy to see, his head protruding a bit further into the air than the humans who surrounded him. He switched views, looked at who was dancing at the moment. Most were dignitaries he didn't know personally, only through Leia's briefings on whom she despised or admired on the High Council and Senate. Borsk Fey'lya was congregating with an Ithorian in the corner, and Han had a brief glimpse of blue military dress uniform before General Madine walked past the two and sidled up to a Kuati politician opposite the dining hall.
Han sighed. I really hate this crap.
Knowing that Leia was expecting him to be on his best behavior, Han decided the best place for him would be next to her. She'll at least clue me in if I start acting stupid. Spotting her as she moved her hands in animated description while speaking with Rieekan, Han walked towards them and accidentally brushed shoulders with a Navy officer he'd seen at the base earlier. Nodding an acknowledgement, he continued on his course towards Leia.
Before he'd even reached her side, Rieekan had seen him and nodded kindly. "Solo."
"General."
He smiled. "You clean up pretty well. How'd you manage that, Leia?"
She laughed and looked at Han. "Actually, I've barely seen him. We had to leave pretty quickly after he docked."
"You got stuck going to one of these things right after landing? Tough luck, Solo."
"Yeah, well, I think it's her form of punishment. I leave and when I come back, I gotta go to this."
"That's what happens when you pair up with an Organa."
"That and a real bruised ego."
Leia chimed in. "I didn't think that was possible for you, Solo."
"Hmm, General, did you hear something? I think I mighta – " He made a show of looking down towards her small stature. "Oh, wait. Yeah, I think that was Leia, Rieekan."
Rieekan laughed. "Solo, you're digging your own grave, here."
"I think if I pretend that's she's not here, she won't make me come to more of these." He smiled lopsidedly. "That's my plan."
"Your torture has just been extended indefinitely." She looked up as a small, delicate chime signaled them to dinner. "Come on, boys. You can just as well harass me at the dinner table."
"You never cease to amaze me, nerfherder."
Han heard the comment at his right shoulder, where Leia's head rested. It was quiet, not quite a whisper, but close. He grinned.
"What did I do now?"
She lifted her head and smiled at him, her diadems catching the light of the chandelier and sparkling, nearly blinding him with its brightness. "This," she indicated the ballroom floor with a sweep of her right hand. "Dancing?" She chuckled. "I would have never thought such a thing was possible."
"I'm just full of surprises, sweetheart."
He could feel her long skirts as they lapped against his legs, her warm breath on his skin as she settled down, crooking her head against his neck.
"You don't have to tell me that, Solo." Her shoulders shook as she laughed quietly. "You've got a billionsecrets that I'd liketo know."
He furrowed his brow. "Huh? Like what?"
"Mmm, like the scar."
He shook his head. "Nuh-uh."
"The Academy?"
"You know about that already."
She shook her head slightly. "Not all of it. Not about Chewie."
"Why don't you get Chewie to tell you?"
She laughed again. "I can't drag it out of him as well as I can you."
"It's all over the fleet. You could ask anyone." He turned them around, caught a glance at the Navy officer he'd bumped into earlier. "Like him. He'd tell it to you, I bet."
Seeming to understand he was randomly referring to someone now out of her line of sight, Leia conceded the point. "Okay, what about Bria?"
He shook his head. "Nah. Bria's nothing to tell."
She looked up. "'Nothing to tell'?"
"Yep."
"C'mon, Solo, spill."
"Mm-hm," he rumbled as he buried his nose into her hair, "old girlfriend, lover, whatever."
"Did you love her?"
Her tone of voice told him that she was mildlyjealous, but not enough to get defensive. "Um. I dunno." He closed his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so – "
Han heard the whine of blaster fire the second before he heard a distant scream. And he vaguely saw the Navy officer he'd bumped into earlier sporting the smoking, offending blaster. And then he felt himself fall backwards, unable to stay up any longer, until he hit the ground with a resounding crack and then was still.
So-o-o-o?
KR