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I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in
I'll never meet the ground
Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us
We're far from the shallow now
– Lady Gaga, Bradley Cooper, Shallow
The sandstorm roared and hoared outside as the Falcon’s ramp closed, almost as if the winds had grown claws and they were scratching at the ship’s walls, trying to break through them and snatch any living soul hiding safely inside. Even Leia, who had put her trust multiple times in the old piece of metal and wires that she had grown to call ‘home’, had jumped out when an untameable breeze hit them so hard that the whole thing shook just a bit to spring unease in her belly.
She had hoped that Luke would return with them all to the Alliance at once, that, maybe, they could spare a moment of peace together before they’d have to switch back to battle mode. And even if that moment wouldn’t have existed, his presence would have, at last, made her feel just a bit safer, remind her that there was nothing left to fear but the Empire and that they’ll get to solve that matter soon enough. He would remind her that the worst had passed: they managed to rescue Han – living, breathing and right in his mind, even if his body was very much prey to the aftermath of Hibernation Sickness, even if the plan hadn’t quite gone as smoothly as they had initially planned. Luke Skywalker had a way of soothing away all the doom and despair that would oven take over Leia’s mind, reminding her that she didn’t have to fight all that darkness on her own: that they could dive into that deep end together, all of them. And that they’d make it out alive together.
But Luke had to leave and fulfill a promise he had made to his master. Yes, Yoda, that’s what he’d called him, perhaps the last standing of the Jedi-kind. Leia wished she were more selfish sometimes, braver when it came to the matters of her heart and her own feelings. She wished she had told him to stay.
But she hadn’t. And regrets wouldn’t bring Luke to her.
With Skywalker probably already light years apart, the only thing left remotely close to his presence were the thought of what the man she had grown to think of as a brother would have told her: Luke would have gone as far as to say that this had probably been one of the most insane and risky missions they had signed up, and how she had accomplished something so much bigger than saving Solo (as if such a thing were even possible; Han meant the world and beyond to her, no matter how much she had tried to deny it in the past: bringing the man she loved with all her being meant back in her arms even more than saving the galaxy in that very moment): she had killed Jabba the Hutt. Jabba, the slug crime lord whose debt Han had bore on his shoulders for so many years, the debt that had slowly driven him crazy until he had been utterly crushed by its weight.
Jabba, that damned creature, that monster who had humiliated her. Jabba, who had stripped her off her decency, put a chain around her neck and placed her by his side as if she were a trophy, a priceless possession – not a person, not even a fucking being at all, not even something underneath him, like a bag or a rat: no, he had treated Leia as if she were an object, good for no other use but to grant every single one of his egoistical, disgusting wishes. Even if the slug hadn’t done much besides touching her with his wet, mucus-covered limbs and making her dance every now and then to entertain him. But Hell, that didn’t mean she had been composed and reassured that the crime lord had no other intentions – she was no fool, and Han had told her once what Jabba did with his slaves when he got even remotely bored of them. Leia knew that if Luke had been a day late, he wouldn’t have hesitated to share her with the various criminals that visited his palace – fucking palace, yeah, sure. A damn brothel and a prison, that’s what that place was. If it hadn’t been for that moment of inattention and Jabba’s lack of proper self-defence, if it hadn’t been for all that rage and anger she had to hold back and harbour in the depths of her heart for her own good, that slug would still be alive now – and Force knows what would be of her, Han and the rest of them. . .
But that didn’t happen. Jabba was dead, and Leia had been the one to kill him. Somehow, she had managed to channel all those demons that rummaged through her and their venom and use those in her favor: she had fed on the honey of their darkness and used all those emotions she had suppressed for so long – her hatred for Vader; her loathing for Tarkin, who had had a far too soft of an ending in her opinion. The abhorrence and revulsion she held for the slug who took pleasure in his acts of degradation and the way he held Leia under the tip of his tail. And that longing, that sadness and regret that had filled her chest whenever she thought of Han and during those six months in which the void of his absence had never closed but instead grew to the size of a black hole. All that fury that once used to be love which she had kept stored in the depths of her soul had helped her wrap that cursed chain around the crime lord’s throat and watch as he writhed under the ironful fist of her hold while the air slowly got sucked out from his lungs.
Jabba was gone. The worst was over. And Han was back by her side.
So why did that endless depth trapped between her lungs only seemed to expand further down into the core of her being? Why did that hollowness scratched at the walls of her soul and why did its black roots spring through her veins and why did it drown her in its emptiness, its despair and its hopelessness?
Why couldn’t she be at peace, even if for a short moment, now that she and Han were back together, at last?
Another savage wind hit them, this time managing to make the brunette lose her balance and almost stumble down. Leia’s shoulders stiffened out of reflex when another growled wind hit them, muttering a whispered prayer for them to get off Tatooine as soon as possible – preferably with the ship in one piece.
“Take off already, Lando. What the fuck are you waiting for!?” the woman hadn’t realised how her tone had very much resembled a bark. She furiously headed for the cockpit, taking off the goggles she had used to protect her eyes from the sand and the improvised hood of her shawl, keeping the material neatly wrapped around herself in an attempt to mimic a somewhat illusion of dignity. And just when she was about to burst in and take the commands herself, a pleading, almost woeful and old familiar roar of a certain Wookie reached her ears and made her instantly turn back, shifting her attention to the corridor of the Falcon.
Oh, Force. How she had forgotten about them?
As soon as they had made it safe into the nest of the old bird, every single drop of strength and adrenaline which had kept Han going for so much longer than any of them would have expected instantly evaporated. The Corellian had collapsed on the ground as if he were a mountain of snow melting underneath the first spring sun, and if Chewbacca hadn’t caught and swept him up in his arms, he would have surely hit his head and worsened his condition. Chewie had disappeared a moment later with Solo resting on his shoulder into the halls of the ship, yet the princess had only just now processed their absence. Had Leia been that lost into the trail of her own thoughts that she hadn’t realised when she ended up all alone at the door of the ship, mind drifting apart onto the endless ocean of her doubts and worries? The woman sighed, shaking her head as if disappointed by herself, turning back on her heels, ready to take left and enter the cockpit. Yet when Chewbacca freed another broken growl, this one so guttural and aching Leia swore that an inexistent blade must have pierced through the Wookie’s heart. She didn’t doubt Chewie’s pleas another time and immediately let Lando and getting off Tatooine as soon as possible be forgotten, heading for the source of her friend’s roars.
Leia found Chewbacca at the refresher’s door, holding a set of clean, unused towel under his arm, fighting with the doorknob and knocking impatiently while cursing in a Shyriiwook dialect she hadn’t yet had the chance to learn – though she doubted her furry friend would ever go as far as to teach her curse words, maybe just to annoy Han.
“Is everything okay, Chewie?” the brunette inquired somewhat reluctantly as she approached, to which the Wookie instantly turned his gaze towards her. Chewbacca did not reply, allowing himself a moment to study the woman before him. Leia instantly recognised that gentle, worryful shadow darkening his eyes, that crossword of thoughts at which he was stuck as he pondered whether to place yet another stone on her tired little shoulders or spare her. Too bad the princess was far too stubborn to let that happen. “I am alright, really. Don’t worry about it.’’ she attempted to wave off the distress in her friend’s look. Her attention shifted to the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing beyond its thick door, trying to open it but finding out that it was locked from the inside. “Is Han in there?”
[“Yes. And he refuses to let me help, that stubborn little–’’] but Leia didn’t quite get the last part, her brows furrowed in concern as she watched Chewie hang his head down defeated, furry fists clenching out of frustration. [“I left Cub in there to pick up some towels for the bath. He could use one after what he’d been through. And when I returned I found that he locked me on the outside.’’] he muttered visibly annoyed, his caring glare lingering on the woman for a moment longer. [“You could use a bath too, little princess. You’ve had it just as bad as him if not worse. The small fresher is still unoccupied. If I were you, I’d go and claim it before Calrissian does.’’]
The brunette chuckled softly, a soft yet tired sigh escaping her lips. It was in Chewbacca’s nature to put Han’s well being above his own – and since her and Luke have become unofficial part of the Millennium Falcon’s crew, the same thing applied to them as well now. Leia sometimes wondered whether that’s how Chewie had always been even before he met the scoundrel – back at home, on Kashyyyk, always worrying about the needs of his family members and loved ones before his own. But the answer was already clear as daylight, wasn’t it?
“Go and help Lando get us off this damn sand boulder. Then you go and claim the other fresher and clean yourself.’’ Leia replied, taking the bath towels from underneath Chewie’s arm and giving him a warm, reassuring smile before he could even protest. “I’ll see if Han lets me in willingly. After all, I am his weakness, haven’t you said that multiple times by now?” her lips sketched a scoundrel-like smirk. “And if he doesn’t, I might as well break the door and get in by force.” she added in an attempted amused tone, trying to lighten the mood just a bit.
But the Wookie didn’t seem so convinced.
[“Little princess, I can manage just fine until I get Han cleaned up and then tucked into his bunk.’’] he paused, tilting his head to the sides in a typical affectionate gesture, one which he often did in Leia’s presence and whenever she offered to spare him of another task. [“I feel bad making you do all of this after what you’ve been through.’’]
Leia’s brows twisted in an understanding, soft frown , her mouth shaping into a kind smile.
“You have no reason to feel bad, Chewie. We are. . . a team.’’ the word ‘family’ had almost slipped away, but she held it back just in time, biting her lower lip just enough to remind herself to be more careful when talking. Although the princess had grown to consider Luke, Chewbacca and Han as an indispensable part of her, she had never had the courage to voice her feelings out loud. The guilt of what such an act meant gave her the foul expression that she was replacing her actual family that was now long gone, even if she knew fairly well that was not the case. Perhaps her soul was still far too scared and wounded from the weight of loss and grief to properly accept anyone else as something even remotely close to what Breha and Bail had meant to her – at least, for now. But maybe one day she would be healed enough to do so. “We should support each other.’’ the woman went on after a rather long pause, adopting that gentle and truly caring tone which she had grown to reserve only for a selected group of people – a certain piece of Leia that only saw the light of day in confined quarters, surrounded only by those that had seen both the best and worst of her for almost half a decade now. “I know you care about Han and that you are worried about him, especially now. But that’s not a valid reason to ignore your own needs. You are just as in need of a rest as all of us.’’ a loving gleam lit up in her eyes as Chewie shrugged, though he had stopped hiding the visible exhaustion that had taken a hold of his body. “Go and help out Lando, then take a long, much needed bath and a nap. We have enough time until meeting with the Alliance – that’s an order.’’ she added, half playful half serious, knowing pretty well that the Wookie had a habit of listening when she used the three magic words. “Han’s on good hands, I promise you this.’’
[“If you promise to take care of yourself afterwards, your wish is my command.’’] Chewbacca replied, to which the brunette nodded. She watched as her furry friend disappeared down the corridor towards the cockpit, taking a moment to rest her aching body against the door, tilting her head back and closing her eyes as she clutched the soft towels to her chest.
In truth, it hadn’t been solely her worry for Chewie that had driven to handle this situation on her own. She felt beyond tired, both physically and mentally speaking, and the wisest choice would have been to let him take care of this matter as she tended to her own wounds. But Leia had long ago understood that she was a much more complicated being that she had initially thought, especially in the fields of emotions, and that often she couldn’t explain certain wants and needs of her own: it had started with Han, of course, the cause of so many of her problems yet the solutions to half already existent. The spark in the dark that lightened her tar black skies and the wrong-colored piece in the puzzle of her life that somehow fit in just right. And oh, no matter how much he would drive her insane, cursing and damning him so many damn times through the past years, she always found herself following the red thread back to the gentle touch of his arms and the soothing warmth of his presence.
Perhaps that was what Leia needed now – her trustworthy lifevest, the bittersweet pill she would swallow whenever the pain would be too hard to bear on her own. She needed Han, needed him next to her as wretched and damaged as he was – Force, as if she were any better! They were both two walking, barely breathing disasters that somehow collided together into a nebula.
She needed to know that this feeling of safety she had just bounced back into was not simply an illusion. She needed to feel that ether sensation wrapping around her yet again, to know that Han was really there, with her, once again, and that he was never going to leave – or be taken from her – ever again.
Leia knocked at the fresher door. A raspy, painful cough came as a response a moment later, as if the possessor had difficulty even breathing, not to mention speaking.
“I told you to go away.’’ Han’s hoarse voice replied, followed by another cough and a sound that the brunette could only link to that specific gulp right before puking your guts out. Her shoulders stiffened, a twisted feeling knotting her stomach and intestines together and pulling violently as if they were jumping rope, stretching and extending like elastics. The running water was doing little to mask those aching, abominable sobs and whimpers that the scoundrel slipped from the hold of his throat. Leia gritted her teeth. Solo recovered his breath and went on. “I’m fine, Chewie. I can handle this–’’
“Open the door, Han. It’s me.’’ the princess’ tone was soft, tired but understanding, so utterly opposed to the smuggler’s husky, cacophonic rhythm that seemed to hurt his neck like sandpaper brushing against soft skin every time he inhaled the smallest mouthful of air. No sound followed from the man, not even a gulp or another tumultuous wave of vomit. The brunette swallowed dryly, pressing her ear to the door. “Please, Han. Let me in–’’
“Leave me alone, sweetheart.’’ Han cut her off instantly, and the woman felt a piercing sharp nail staking her heart when another whine stole his voice a moment later, then the same muffled groan before he vomited a second time. “I’m beyond repair.’’ he added once regaining his breath, expecting Leia to wave the white flag and accept defeat just this once. But the Corellian was beyond stupid if he thought the princess was going to give up so damn easily or leave him all alone in there, sprawled across the bathroom floor and head half buried in the toilet, fighting a fateless war against carbon sickness.
The woman inhaled a sharp, cold breath, storing the air in her lungs for far longer than she usually would, as if trying to absorb all the strength she needed but didn’t have.
“That’s up to me to decide, not you. Now open the door, Han.’’ Her reply came a moment later, tone firm and confident.
Solo coughed.
“N-No, you won’t see me like this.’’ Leia could picture him shaking his head, face branded by pain and exhaust as he struggled to speak. Her blood suddenly began sizzling as if it were hot motor oil. “Leia, please. It’s too much, it’s–’’
“Han Solo, if you don’t open this damn door, I’m going to find my way through more violent means.” the brunette’s tone had lost all its gentleness and care from earlier, being replaced by a stern, envying rigidness and something else that all the smuggler could think of resembled bitterness – no, that wasn’t the right word. Anger, ire, furor. Yes, that was it. The princess did not stop there, her voice so sharp and resolute Han swore she could have made the walls bend and break without much effort. “And you’re gonna be fucking sorry you didn’t chose the more peaceful option.’’
If Han believed all it would take for Leia to abandon him after what they’ve both been through – after they had been broken in two and separated for so long that every breath of air felt like a death wish and every day like another meaningless stone in the brick wall of their miserable existence – he was beyond wrong. She had had enough of everything and everyone being taken from her, of holding jewels and pearls between her very palms only to be stolen from her grip a moment later or watch those treasures slip through her fingers like salt water. She didn’t defy the stars and fought monsters and men just for Han to deny her what she needed the most right then – all because he didn’t consider himself worthy of being beside her.
As if Leia were any fucking better. As if they were both anything but sand at the bottom of an endless ocean.
As if they could sink anywhere deeper and farther than the very shallow in which they ended up in.
Silence filled the space between her blade like words, so long and deceiving that Leia thought Han was simply going to ignore her for fuck knows how long and torture himself even worse. And just when she was so close from bursting like an active vulcano, lava boiling as if her head were a living cauldron from Mustafar, she heard the lock turning on the other side and the doorknob twisting, suddenly all that frustration and turmoil evaporating the moment the Corellian metamorphosed before her eyes.
Solo leant in the doorway, barely able to hold himself up on his feet, clothes soaked in sweat and skin so damp and pale the woman swore she stood face to face with the corpse of Han, not the man she knew so well and loved beyond human comprehension. His breath was hot and his chest fell and rose in hard, far too slow motions, his brown locks wet and oily. Ice cold sweat branded his forehead and cheeks, and Leia noticed how he struggled not to shiver as if he were freezing alive.
“Are you satisfied?” his words were coated in acid, meant to mock Leia in one last attempt to drive her away. One of Han’s oldest and, for a while, at least, most efficient trick. It was almost too bad that those days had been over long ago. The only thing he managed to accomplish had been springing cold, translucid crystals in the woman’s eyes as she raised a trembling hand and cupped his left cheek in her palm. The frown between Solo’s brows softened and disappeared under the woman’s touch, his face almost regaining a touch of life, even if faint and so fragile one could have shattered it with their fist. Han’s own heart shredded and unraveled like old fabric upon seeing the brunette so wretched because of him, a sigh slipping between his lips. “I told you, princess. It’s bad–’’
“Get the fuck back in the fresher. Now.’’ Leia did not even let him finish his sentence before gently pushing the smuggler back inside the bathroom, joining him a moment later and locking the door behind them. She instantly noticed the sink faucet which had been left running all that time by Han, wasting their water reserve for the sake of hiding his suffering. With a swift movement, the brunette shut it off, not even noticing when the thick shawl finally slipped from her shoulders and revealed part of the. . . undergarments she happened to be wearing. The man blinked, squirting his eyes as if wondering if his sight had been truly that damaged by the Carbonite or if he wasn’t having some kind of hallucinations as a result of the fever running free in his body.
“Leia, what the fuck is–’’ he barely had enough strength to speak, gesturing to her with a half numb hand as his his face twisted into a disgusted, almost maddened expression as the pieces fell into place. “That fucker.’’ Han’s teeth gritted together, fists clenching as his nails dug deep into the skin of his own palms.
“Han–’’ Leia attempted to calm him, approaching his side and taking his hands into her own. But Solo was only half listening, his face growing redder and redder from all the fury simmering inside of him.
“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.’’ the Corellian spat, his breath growing saccade and uneven. “I’m gonna skin him alive, I’m gonna pour a fucking cargo on salt on him watch and watch him writhe and beg for mercy. I’m gonna kill him–’’
“He’s already dead! What the fuck is there left to do?!’’ Leia burst, pinning him by the wrists with her own hands as if they were cuffs.
“There’s always something left to do. I’m gonna cut his disguting corpse into fucking chopped meat and feed them to Sybian Hounds.’’
“You’re angry and mad. You have no idea what you’re talking about.’’
“No, I’m angry, mad and sick. It’s worse.’’ Han corrected her, trying to free himself from the princess’ hold but to no result, muttering something about accepting defeat as his tired gaze lingered along the woman's body. “Oh, Leia.’’ he sighed sorrowfully, his body relaxing all of a sudden and all that wrath and ire morphing into something much sadder. Remorse, self-disappointment, guilt. “I– I don’t deserve you. Not after this.’’ he shook his head ashamed, squeezing his eyes shut both because he didn’t feel worthy of looking the brunette in the eyes and because another wave of fever hit him.
He was taken by surprise when Leia slapped him harshly across the cheek, not hard enough to actually damage him even more than he already was but just so he would brush his fingers across the sore spot and gaze confused at the woman before him.
“I’m sorry.’’ the princess replied, a shade of blame coloring her words as she pitied Han with her eyes. “But sometimes you are so fucking stupid it’s driving me crazy.’’ she sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Stop speaking of me as if I am some grand goddess who should find herself a so-called suitable match.’’
“Aren’t you one?” Solo inquired, clearly trying to shift the tone of the discussion. Leia ignored him, though his implication did make her heart beat just a bit faster, a bit more alive.
“There’s no such thing as you being or not worthy of being with me. If I would’ve thought that way, I wouldn’t have come all the way to Tatooine for you. I wouldn’t have kissed you and I clearly wouldn’t have let you– let you know me, see me the way only you ever did.’’ she paused, her fingertips running through the mess that was Han’s hair. “What I said back on Bespin, that rushed and utterly pathetic confession–’’
“I don’t know, I thought it was kinda sweet.’’ Han shrugged, an attempted smirk sketching on his lips which made Leia shake her head gently, her mouth shaping into a timid smile. With a bit of an effort, he placed a hand on the woman’s waist, pulling her just a bit closer. “I mean, I heard the woman I’ve loved for years now confess her feelings for me at what I thought followed was going to be my death sentence. Not that any of this is any better.’’ he gestured awkwardly to himself. The woman sighed lovingly, stroking his deranged hair.
“One day, I’m going to make you a proper love confession.’’ the brunette vowed, to which Solo tilted his head to the sides.
“Why not now? I mean, what better opportunity to shower your loved one in words of affection than right after saving him?’’ he inquired in an amusing tone, though it was clear that his forces were very low and that he could collapse at any given moment now. Leia pressed the back of her right hand to his forehead, frowning when she felt it hot to the touch.
“Because we need to make sure you are not going to die.’’ the princess replied, her mouth hanging open when the scoundrel touched the torn edge of the chain still hanging from her neck, swallowing dryly as his fingers then traced the metal straps of her bra.
“First, we need to get you out of this trash.’’ he muttered, his left hand tracing her back in search for those damn clips or whatever held that thing together. “Then we can worry about me.’’
It took Han half an hour to get the hang of the bra and thong, his vision still not fully recovered and the weird mechanism mocking him whenever he failed to open it. He unbraided Leia’s hair and helped her take it down, throwing aside all those accessories and hairpins and swearing to incinerate them later. The ugly chain around her neck did not seem too eager to come off easily though, and when Solo cursed and headed for the door to go get his toolbox, the brunette stopped him, saying that they’ll get the hang of it later. After he finally gave up and accepted the sour taste of defeat, Leia helped Han undress, peeling off soaked and dirty layer after layer of clothes until he was bare naked.
They stepped together in the shower, just when Han’s body gave up after holding on for so long and fell to the ground exhausted, half leaning against the shower cabin’s wall. The princess turned on the cold water, at first on the lowest setting possible so as not to get him into thermal shock. She talked him through, kept him awake until he was stable once again, then she slipped under the cascading water and stood down next to him. Instinctively, Han wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer into his embrace, legs tangling around hers as their bodies met and mended together. His ears pricked when the faintest of sobs reached him, then the sensation of muscles moving and limbs twitching uncontrollably and at last he realised that Leia was crying.
“It’s okay.’’ he whispered gently, caressing her back with one hand, placing a soft, careful kiss on her forehead as the woman continued to weep uncontrollably in his arms. “It’s okay, Leia. I’m here.’’
‘And I’m never leaving again.’ Han thought, but he didn’t have any more strength to say it.