Han & Leia | Galaxy of Us

Chapter 9

Luke was right, of course. Han knew well enough from experience that much depended on how he treated this whole situation. If he went along with in his usual crude manner, not only would he lose the rebels' respect and tolerance, but his own place would be questioned as well. He'd gotten a medal from a last minute entrance that had saved Luke's life and the Alliance's fate out of pure luck. Naturally some would question his allegiance, his sudden change of heart. He didn't have much of a moral compass, but he knew he needed to do this right. Because he did want to stay.

"Han?" Luke called, his voice crackling from static.

"Yeah, kid?"

"You're quiet."

"I was just wondering..." Han began with a slow smile, "if Her Royal Highness is planning my execution right now as we speak."

She was going to kill Han.

No one had spoken to her directly of it, of course. But she caught many of the looks of suspicion and disdain cast Han's way. And everyone who spoke to her did so without looking her quite in the eye. Unfortunately, she couldn't exactly have a verbal sparring match with him in the middle of the hangar without anyone else taking note of it.

"Idiotic, good-for-nothing..." she muttered under her breath while surveying the new plans for taking down one of the Empire's bases.

"You seem a little distraught, Your Highness," the man himself drawled, approaching her from behind.

She spun around; thankfully the rest had left before he decided to speak with her. She settled for a cool, neutral one, "Hardly. One step closer to defeating the Empire and I'm decidedly happy."

He raised an eyebrow, "You jumped like the devil himself was at your heels."

"Don't flatter yourself," she flashed back irritably, "What do you want?"

"To talk," he said simply, "About last night..."

She sighed, "Nothing happened and yet everyone thought something did. Why in the world didn't you send me back to my cabin?"

"You were drunk," he responded flatly, "And you were determined to sleep in the Falcon. I wasn't about to send you tottering back to who knows where with you ending up crushed in an avalanche. We've still been getting little snowfalls every now and then, you know. And what would your rebels think of a drunk Princess?"

"They don't have a much better opinion of me now, do they?" she retorted.

"Listen," he ran a hand through his hair, "I did what I thought was best in the moment, I wasn't exactly dry an' sober myself. But, it's important that you handle this well."

"I was handling it well enough until you lumbered your way in here."

"That's exactly what I mean. If you avoid me, everyone's gonna know something's up. And I'm gonna lose my position. You need to treat me like you do any one of your soldiers, that's it. You're a Princess, you don't need to be afraid of what everyone else thinks of you," he snorted.

"I need their respect," she muttered.

"You think you're gonna lose their respect after this? You're human, Leia, no one faults you for that," he didn't seem to realize he'd slipped into using her name, "No one's gonna think any less of you after this. In fact, it's all going to die down sooner or later. The only person really affected by this is me."

She grudgingly conceded, "I suppose so. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to help fight," he stated simply, "I'm going to prove that I'm here for a purpose."