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Leia Solo sat by herself in the medcenter waiting room. This was certainly not the first time she’d waited for news of a loved one, nor would it be the last. But this felt different. This time, it wasn’t a blaster or a lightsaber that had injured someone. It wasn’t an enemy she could fight against. It was a stroke. It wasn’t some dangerous mission that had almost taken her beloved husband from her, but age.
Leia knew Han would survive this. She could feel his indomitable spirit shining through the Force. Weakened, yes, but still irrepressible, still her touchstone. But this rattled her. They weren’t getting any younger; Han was nearly ninety. Could something as mundane as a stroke seriously incapacitate Han Solo? Had she really considered that anything would permanently derail him?
Of course Leia was well-acquainted with death, much more than she wanted to be. The list of those she had loved and lost seemed to grow every year. Her mother and father, everyone on Alderaan, Chewbacca, Mara, more recently Luke, and of course, always Anakin and Jacen. And yet somehow, through decades of war, she had never lost Han. Practically, she knew it would happen someday, but with all they’d been through and survived together… she had started to take it for granted that he would always be there with her.
This felt like a wake-up call. Leia had endured war after war, tragedy upon tragedy. And yet, she and Han had been married for over fifty years now and had known each other for sixty. In some ways, her life had been tragic and war-torn. But she had been blessed beyond the depth of her tragedies by a lifetime of love that endured through it all.
Leia remembered her parents. As a teenager, she’d been annoyed by their constant displays of affection, but also felt safe in the strength of their relationship. And quietly she had mused about her own romantic future, wondering if she could ever find a love as strong and enduring as theirs. It had seemed impossible.
And yet, Leia’s own love story outshone even Bail and Breha’s. Despite the heartache, she and Han had had such a full life. Celebrating the fall of the Empire, raising children and grandchildren, seeing the galaxy finally transition into a period of peace, enjoying the last fifteen years of semi-retirement together. She knew her parents’ relationship would have endured, but they never got that opportunity. She had.
Leia’s relationship with Han, forged over decades of peace and war, was unbreakable, unshakeable, and the defining factor in her life. She had had wonderful parents for twenty years, two beautiful sons for thirty years, a twin brother for fifty years, and she still had an amazing daughter and wonderful grandchildren who filled her with such joy. But Han had been there for longer than any of them. He was the constant in her life—the one who had loved her the longest, the hardest, and the most. And, even if this had been the end for him, she would have been filled with nothing but gratitude for the life they had been so privileged to share.
But again, Leia had been lucky. She hadn’t lost him. Realistically, she knew it was more likely he would die first, being older and being male. She undoubtedly would have to relearn how to live without him someday. She could barely remember a life without his teasing, his impulsiveness, and his unending support and loyalty. But the galaxy had already given her more than anyone could ask for when it came to love. And the happiness that suffused Luke the first time he appeared to her as a Force ghost reassured her that death was not the end of their journey. She and Han would find each other again, just as Luke and Mara had, just as she was sure her parents had. After sixty years of loving and fighting together, Han and Leia would not be separated by something as mundane as death.
Death would come, it always did. But until then, they would live. The galaxy was vast and there were still places they wanted to visit, and great-grandchildren they would need to meet. She had been given a rare gift, and not that she’d ever squandered it (well, almost that one time with the Hapans, fifty years ago), but she would treasure it even more now.
“Ma’am?”
Leia’s reverie was interrupted by a doctor. It was a sign of respect that they’d sent an actual person to talk to her, not a med droid. She turned to look at the impossibly young doctor, just a baby really. How could he be in charge of someone’s life? But, she supposed, she’d been Chief of State of the entire New Republic by the time she was his age. Maybe that was her one regret in life—she should have taken it slower. She and Han should have gotten married and then flown off on their own for five years. Taking up the mantle of the government had seemed so important then. And not that it wasn’t, but that government didn’t even exist anymore, and could never be as important as her husband and children.
“Uh, ma’am?” The doctor repeated.
Leia shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I was lost in my thoughts. It happens when you get to my age.”
“No apologies needed, ma’am. I just wanted to let you know that your husband has regained consciousness and is asking for you.”
“Of course he is,” she said. She put a hand on her knee and pushed herself up, waving away the doctor’s offered hand. “I’m not that old yet.”
The doctor smiled warmly. “Of course not, ma’am.” He led her towards the patient rooms. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know the appropriate title to refer to you?”
Leia reflected. Princess, daughter, senator, general, sister, mother, wife, president, Jedi… She’d borne so many titles throughout her life. “Leia will be just fine,” she told him. In the end, that’s who she was, after it all. She was just missing one thing.
“Hiya, sweetheart.”
Leia rushed to the bed, as the doctor graciously exited the room behind her. She’d known Han would live, but she still threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. Grateful, grateful, grateful for the time they had had together and grateful they still had more.
Han kissed the top of her head, before Leia pulled back. She placed a gentle hand on his unshaven cheek. “Don’t do that again,” she chided him, sitting next to him on the bed.
Han shrugged. “At this point, I figured you might want a chance to upgrade to a younger model.”
Leia laughed, but swatted him gently. “The older model still works just fine.” She grabbed his hand and kissed it. “And at this point, I think it makes more sense for us to go out together in some blaze of glory, saving the galaxy one last time.”
He laughed this time. “I could get behind that. But not yet.”
“Not yet,” she agreed. They had so much life left to live.