Chapter Text
The prison cells of the sentients Han Solo works with are as warm and welcoming as their owners. Not that Han had been in many; it was something he typically tried to avoid. Of course, every now and again, plans go wrong, and you suddenly find yourself chained to a metal bar, somehow shivering and sweating at the same time, and wondering how the hell you’re gonna get out of this one. That happens to everyone, right? Han hopes so, or he’s really gonna feel dumb this time.
It had been at least ten hours since the Zabrak Han still hadn’t learned the name of threw him down into this cold, damp cellar. He huffs to himself, thinking about how it all went down, and promises himself he’ll never even bother to learn the guys name after what he did.
Han had shown up a whole five minutes early to deliver the boxes he’d been hired to smuggle past republic check points. It was a fairly easy job, Han being much more used to dealing with crime syndicates while smuggling rather than the almost too noninvasive republic.
Whatever the item was, though, the man certainly seemed desperate for it. It was on the way over Han had the brilliant idea to hike up the delivery price upon arrival, an idea to which Chewie was adamantly against.
“Alright, alright,” Han had sighed, already tired of how on edge Chewie had been for the whole job. “If it really upsets you that much, I won’t.”
Han kept to his word, of course, he always did with Chewie, but someway, somehow, the Zabrak instantly accused him of his initial intentions, as if reading his mind. Before he knew it, he was blacked out and throw down here, and Chewie, well, he just hoped Chewie had made it out with the falcon like he’d yelled at him too before he lost consciousness.
—
It was another forty hours before Han heard the trap door above him creaking. If you’d asked him then, he’d have said it’d been weeks, but Chewie would later confirm to him it had only been a few days.
Along with the blinding light, a little blonde head peaked its way in.
“Hello?” The boy called in. He sounded like a kid, or, at least, his voice was squeaky enough Han was barely sure it even was even a boy anyways.
Han made a small grunting noise in return, which thankfully seemed to be enough, as the man jumped down, skillfully landing before him. Han would’ve called him a show off if he had the energy; there was a perfectly good ladder right besides them.
“Han? Han Solo?” The kid reached beside him pulling out the hilt to his saber. Han had only seen one of those a handful of times, the most memorable being in the hand of the Zabrak who’d put him in his current position. He visibly flinched, which the kid took notice of. “Don’t worry. I’m Luke Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you.”
Han nodded suspiciously, knowing he had very little choice in the matter, and watched as Luke flicked on a much calmer green blade than the angry red one the Zabrak carried, and cut through the chains that held him.
Luke didn’t look very strong at all, but somehow he managed to carry Han out of the miserable hole, bringing them to the surface to find another man and, thank the force, Chewie.
Han was almost immediately pulled into a hug by his friend, to which he happily accepted. It wasn’t very often he got hugs like this, seeing as he usually refused, but in this moment not even Han’s infamous stubbornness could keep him away from Chewie’s embrace.
“You’re a real idiot sometimes,” Chewie roared at him, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Han sighed, taking a deep breath when he was finally released from the tight grip. The boy who’d saved him, Luke, had preoccupied himself talking to another, older man, who was also equipped with the same ridiculous laser sword. They seemed deep in conversation, and Han could tell whatever official business they were on, he’d want no part of. Especially when the body of his captor was suspiciously vacant.
“Fellas!” He called over to the men as he began to stroll away, dragging a particularly noncompliant Chewie along behind him. “Thank you for the rescue, really, but we’ll have to be on our way.”
“Han...” Chewie stopped completely in his tracks, yanking back Han violently.
“The Zabrak who kidnapped you was a Sith Lord named Darth Maul,” Luke explained, resting his hands on his belt. “We’ve been tracking him for quite some time.”
“Sith?” Han made a face, looking between Chewie and the two men unimpressed. “Look, kid, I don’t know anything about any Sith.”
“That’s not surprising,” The older of the two men scoffed and rolled his eyes, to which Han glared at him.
“What my father means to say,” Luke continued, “Is that your information could be helpful to us.”
“What’s in it for me?” Han asked with narrowed eyes, and tried to ignore Chewie sighing next to him.
“First of all, your ships completely ruined,” The older man — Luke’s father, apparently — nodded over to the Falcon, which had clearly been through just as much as he had durning his imprisonment. “You’re not getting off this planet without our help.”
“And,” Luke added before Han could pick a fight with the man, “We’d like to offer you some medical care and a place to stay while you recover.”
“I can take care of myself,” Han laughed, though he was more than a bit offended by the kids suggestion that he couldn’t. “I have a first aid kit on the Falcon.”
The older man just chuckled, while Luke looked at him quite puzzled.
“A Sith’s torture takes a lot more out of you than any normal injury,” He explained carefully, and Chewie nodded. Han thought briefly as to how his friend would know any of that. Chewie was old, sure, but he’d never mentioned any encounters with Sith. Then again, Han wasn’t really sure the Shyriiwook word for Sith. “You may feel fine now, adrenaline and all, but I can promise you that within a few hours you may be too weak to even protest being taken to safety.”
Han could tell he wasn’t winning any fights with this. Not only did Luke seem beyond determined to help him, Chewie maintained an iron grip on his upper arm that let him knew it wasn’t even worth arguing about. With a sigh, he agreed, and the four of them were on their way within the hour.
—
The planet Luke and his father — Anakin, he’d learned — brought Han to was beautiful even from above. Though Han had been unconscious for the majority of their trip as Luke had predicted, the moments he caught before their landing showed him one of the most gorgeous sights he’d ever seen.
Even from miles away, Han could identify the planet as Naboo. As a child, he’d spent what must’ve been weeks worth of time looking through encyclopedias and maps of the galaxy, and had retained the knowledge to this day. He knew he could credit his childish curiosity for some of his current piloting skills, but not even Chewie would be wise to it anytime soon. Cute was not a good look on him, not when he was supposed to be an infamous smuggler like his reputation promised.
That being said, Han couldn’t help but practically press his face against the glass as they descended upon the planets surface. He was in absolute awe of the terrain, his travels weren’t usually focused on beautiful planets such as Naboo, and he was quite sure he’d never seen so much green in one place before. Mentally, he added the planet to his list of potential retirements spots for he, Chewie, and whoever he fancied when he started greying.
“Home sweet home,” Luke beamed from his co-pilot seat as they landed.
“And a good landing job, kiddo,” Anakin said as he ruffled his sons hair fondly.
“When isn’t it?” Luke rolled his eyes, but his dad gave him a critical look.
“Most of the time, bud, you’re quite the pilot but landing isn’t your strong suit.” Han gave a small laugh along with Chewie from the corner, and Luke frowned. Anakin shrugged, giving him a pat on the shoulder before heading down the ramp. “Han, Chewie, follow me. Luke, tow the falcon over to the docking area.”
Han and Chewie followed Anakin’s directions easily. For once Han was understanding how people could feel claustrophobic in a starship. He didn’t mind his company too much, nor was the ship uncomfortable, but after being locked down in that hole for so many days he couldn’t stand to be breathing recycled air for another minute.
The fresh breeze of Naboo overtook Han’s senses almost instantly, the feeling so nice he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to be on the other side of an airlock ever again.
Anakin led the two down a path that cut through what felt like miles of lush gardens. The area was populated by flowers in colors Han was sure he’d never even seen, and trees that had branches that seemed to twist through the area endlessly. Birds of all kinds flocked through, chirping pleasantly. The entire scene had him worried he may of died and gone to heaven.
Finally, though, they found themselves at a large set of doors. They were decorated with an intricate design of stained glass, and looked very old fashioned with their wooden framing. So old fashioned, in fact, their sliding open startled Han enough for him to jump back a step, as he’d expected to see a normal functioning door when he noticed its quaintness.
“My own modifications,” Anakin grinned proudly as he gestured for him and Chewie to step inside. Han hated to admit he was impressed.
The indoor of the castle sized villa was somehow as impressive as the outside. The garden seemed to only extend in, but the majority of the plant life grew from hanging — and sometimes even floating — planters. Indoor plants were rare in Corellia, it was hard enough to sustain something outside on that wretched planet, and inside it was almost impossible, unless you made some greenhouse Han could have never dreamed of affording. As for plants on the Falcon, hyperspace was not kind to loose soil.
The group winded through a few long hallways, a strong, sweet scent growing as they made their way deeper into the villa, until they finally found themselves in a sitting area. Seated on a crimson colored, velvet couch was a finely dressed woman, who seemed deeply buried in a book, nursing a hot cup of tea and a steaming plate of fresh bread laid on the table in front of her.
“Oh, Anakin!” The woman hopped to her feet as soon as their presence was sensed. “I didn’t know you and Luke would be bringing home guests.”
“I apologize for springing their arrival on you,” Anakin’s face grew a mild red tint, and Han couldn’t help but be amused by the sight. “This is Chewbacca and Han Solo, we’ve just saved them from Darth Maul and Luke was hoping we’d be able to see to their recovery personally.”
“Well, of course,” The woman beamed, holding her hand out to Chewbacca first and then Han. “I’m Padmé Amidala,” She introduced herself much more formally than her presumed family, and the name rang a bell in Han’s mind.
“Chewbacca, it’s an honor to meet a friend of Master Yoda’s,” Padmé attempted to greet Chewie in Shyriiwook, but the language sounded odd in her soft voice. Still, Han could tell his friend was more than pleased at the gesture.
“It’s my honor to meet a queen of this lovely planet, Senator Amidala,” Chewie roared back, and Padmé grinned.
“A queen?” Han asked, feeling a bit rude but unable to hide his shock at the idea.
“Former queen,” Padmé laughed lightly at Han’s child-like demeanor. “And former senator too, really. Our daughter, Leia, has taken over my position as of two moons ago.”
“You’re quite the impressive family,” Han whistled, rocking on his feet. He was suddenly feeling a bit out of place, but Padmé’s friendliness was much too radiant for his anxiety to bubble up too much.
“Well, I hear you’re quite the impressive pilot, Mr. Solo,” Padmé laughs, and Han feels a bit bewildered at the comment. What would a woman like her be doing knowing anything about him?
“You’ve heard of me?” He asks, dumbfounded.
She nods with a delicate smile, picking up the large plate of bread behind her and offering a piece to all of them as they take a seat on the couch. Anakin moves to be next to Padmé, holding one of her hands in his as she continues to talk.
“Anakin has told me of your piloting abilities,” She tells him, and Han raises his eyebrows, surprised. Anakin on the other hand frowns, his mouth too full of bread to protest his wife’s words. “He keeps up on all the best pilots, even smugglers such as yourself.”
“I’m honored,” Han said, beaming at both Padmé’s compliment and the way Anakin seemed at least a little upset that Han found out the man had any level of knowledge about him.
Later, after Han and Chewie had been escorted to their temporary quarters, Padmé sat with her husband and son, talking to Leia via holo.
“You wouldn’t believe who’s living with us, Leia,” Luke had excitedly told his sister at the first free point in the conversation. Despite being a full adult, and quite close to knighthood, he still carried as much happy energy as a child. “Chewbacca, one of master Yoda’s old Wookiee friends. His stories of the Clone Wars are so cool, really, you’d love them.”
“You act as if Dad and Obi Wan haven’t told us both enough Clone Wars stories to qualify us as specialists,” Leia laughed. “Besides, didn’t Dad say he was running around with some criminal just the last time we called?”
Padmé glared at her husband, giving him a light, warning slap on his bicep.
“You know better than to gossip,” She scolded him.
“Yeah, Dad,” Luke nodded, “Han doesn’t seem so bad, it’s not like he’s tried to kill us or steal anything yet.”
“It’s only been a day,” Anakin said, wagging his finger in front of his son's face. “We’ll see which of us he proves wrong after he’s stayed a while.”
“Do you mean to tell me you have a criminal staying in our home?” Leia whisper-screamed, getting closer to the Holo with wide eyes. “I leave and you all fall into chaos! I expected this from Luke, but not all of you.”
“Hey!” Luke scoffed with furrowed eyebrows, but Leia didn’t seem to mind his offense much.
“Darling, you shouldn’t worry so much,” Padmé said with a sigh. “If Han was really a danger, your father or brother would’ve sensed it. And if that changes, they’ll be able to stop him. Besides, he was badly injured at the hands of Darth Maul, and it would be against our duty as public servants not to help him.”
“Leave it to you to make this a humanitarian project.” Anakin sniffed, and Padmé found herself pulling almost the same exact offended face Luke had moments earlier.