Han & Leia | Galaxy of Us

Chapter 2

He had destroyed her home anyway.

She felt a swell of emotion rise up within her. Either that, or the massive headache she'd gotten ever since Vader's torture sessions had begun was taking its effects on her empty stomach. She rose up from the chair awkwardly, "Refreshers?"

Chewbacca pointed in the direction, concernedly asking her if she was alright, to which she could give no coherent answer, stumbling blindly across to the refreshers. She didn't even have the strength to slide the door shut behind her, as she vomited, her hands weakly gripping the sink, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face.

She had been strong for too long.

"We're almost at Yavin," Han told Chewie through the intercom, yawning. It had been a long, eventful day and he was completely exhausted.

"The Princess has been in the refreshers for a long time," his friend replied in a worried tone.

"Probably fixing that up-do of hers," Han shrugged, "You know how women are."

"Not this one," Chewie said unexpectedly. Han knew he was right.

"Did you check up on her?"

"I didn't want to disturb her privacy."

"So, you're sending me to be the scape-goat? I think her Worship would much rather see you than me, anyway. She thinks I'm a good-for-nothing gold-digger."

"You are," Han could hear Chewie's grin through his amused tone.

"I'll send Luke-" he turned to the kid, but he was fast asleep, looking so peaceful that Han felt bad to disturb him. He'd become rather fond of the kid, despite himself. Better let him sleep. If he was gonna join the rebels on some fool heroic adventure, he'd need all the sleep now that he could get.

"Ah, hell. You owe me for this one."

Chewie only chuckled, informing him that he'd come to pilot. Han got the distinct impression that his Wookiee friend rather enjoyed seeing him getting taken down a notch by her Highness.

He wandered down to the refreshers. He could hear the water running and the harsh sound of a hacking cough. He winced; it sounded like her Worship was pretty sick.

He knocked on the door, in a gentler tone than normal, "Hey, we're gonna reach Yavin soon."

There was no response; she probably couldn't hear him. It was slightly ajar so he ventured in. The sight before him took him aback. Gone was the smart-mouthed, high-and-mighty Princess. Instead he saw a young girl, sick and in grief, the intricate hairstyle coming unpinned in wisps around her small face. She still had not registered his presence.

Ignoring the putrid smell of vomit, he moved behind her to tentatively hold back her hair. She continued to cough into the sink, though no more was to be expelled from her stomach. He doubted she even realized he was there, standing by her. She seemed to be lost in some world of her own; while she wasn't crying, her eyes were glassy and a little red and she was shaking.

He rubbed her shoulders awkwardly. While he held little affection for her and did not know in the least how to show comfort, he couldn't exactly brush off her pain like it was nothing. As much as he tried to convince others, and himself, that he was nothing more than a selfish, cocky bastard, he did have a bit of a heart. Seeing people in such gut-wrenching emotional distress unnerved him like nothing else could.

After a while, Leia's shoulders ceased to spasm and her eyes returned to focus. Han let go of her, taking a step back in order to steel himself. As she realized who stood behind her, she recoiled with a glare in his direction, "You!"