Okay...this is an older story, but one not previously posted to OZ. It's a sort of addition to 'Tyrant's Test', where Leia spends some time with Han during his recovery. I don't think it's chronologically correct, but oh well. :) Also, for fans of Carolyn Golledge (me! I'm one!!), her fic is also posted on my page (www.geocities.com/Area51/Corridor/1436/). Ok, here goes.....feedback is always appreciated.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Although this story doesn't exactly fit in the Black Fleet Crisis timelime, it's meant to be a postscript to Tyrant's Test. (Be warned, though, this fitting in the BFC timeline is nearly impossible -- that makes posting it seem a little odd, but nonetheless I hoped to add some much-needed time between Han and Leia after Han's return.) Comments, please, my addy's at the end. :)
** Minor spoilers for Tyrant's Test and Han Solo and the Lost Legacy
By Jessica Ferroni
The First Night
Space, in all its infinite darkness, was nothing compared to the blackness of sleep. The stars seemed to be softly shining gems in the dark velvet of the sky, hanging just barely too far to reach. The Elis' deckplates vibrated gently under the soles of her boots. Leia Solo stood motionless before one the view windows. She had always loved the view from space. As a girl on Alderaan, she had often begged her father to take her up in his personal vessel just so she could see the stars. Very rarely was her wish granted, but that made the times he had agreed had made them all the more precious. Unfortunately, though she longed for it, sleep was far from coming this night. She watched for a few moments more, then abruptly turned away.
Without looking back, she walked with determined strides towards The Elis' medical center. The room was dim, and as her eyes adjusted to the light Leia moved slowly towards one of the medical beds. Its occupant was pale and wan, with deep furoughs marring the side of his face. The corresponding marks on his chest were bandaged and covered by the light medical sheet. As she watched, Han Solo's eyes flickered and opened. Recognition dawned in his eyes and he tried a smile, but it was a poor attempt at his usually rougish charm. "Hey, Sweetheart," he said softly, his voice weak and croaking. Slowly his hand lifted to stroke the side of her face, but even that small effort seemed to drain his strength and his hand dropped back by his side. Leia bit her lip and covered his hand with her own small one.
"How are you?" she asked gently, then cringed inwardly. Stupid question, Leia, she scolded herself with a wry smile. Leia forgave herself her slip when she saw his countenance lighten. Han's eyes twinkled and his mouth twitched in amusement.
"How am I?" He pretended to assess himself. "Well, for being beaten around, clawed, nearly starved, used as a hostage, and left for dead," he paused and looked up at her as he noted a shift in her features. "Hey, Sweetheart," he reached up again to touch her chin with one hand as he saw her face fall, "it's not your fault."
She looked away, tears brimming in her eyes. "But it is," she said softly. "It was my fault."
"Hey," Han said gently, exhaustion marring his features but determination in his voice. "Princess." She ignored him, focussing only on keeping the tears at bay.
"Leia." Leia looked up, but didn't speak. "Listen to me. There wasn't anything you could have done." The words, the way they were spoken, reminded Leia of a time that seemed so long ago when she had uttered the very same words to a grieving Luke Skywalker. The words were the only comfort she could offer him and yet, as they were spoken to her now they seemed so hollow when she had a torn and bruised Han before her as a reminder of something she'd been unable to prevent. But it was more than Luke had had. Luke had had nothing, nothing at all to assure him the damage wasn't irreparable. Yet she had Han here before her to reassure her she hadn't lost him forever. But it had been so close. "I know," she whispered, though she didn't believe them. Han nodded and his eyes closed as he drifted into a painless sleep, what he needed the most right now. Leia kissed his forehead gently, careful to avoid the furrows still marking his right cheek, then standing, she left as quietly as she had come.
The Second Night
No sleep again tonight. She hadn't been permitted to see her husband all day as he underwent the horrific but needed healing process of the bacta. So she waited, in the same place she had last night. Only a few moments more. The stars were as peaceful as the night before, but still Leia was uneasy. Only a few remaining days, then Han would be able to return home to her. For now, though, she had to content herself with waiting until the middle of the night to see him. Softly she slipped in the medcenter door. She could see Han was awake tonight, staring in horrified fascination at the monitor before him. Leia's eyebrows creased into a frown as she moved in further to stand beside him.
"Hi, Sweetheart," Han greeted softly, looking up as she entered. Leia opened her mouth to reply, but was struck dumb as she caught sight of the monitor. He'd been watching the transmission Nil Spaar had sent the New Republic, the one showing Han himself being viciously beaten. Leia felt sick just seeing it again. Glancing quickly at Han -- maybe to make sure he was alive and next to her -- she hurridly switched off the monitor. How Han could have seen, or even gotten hold of that transmission was beyond her. Nor could she even fathom a guess why he'd want to see it.
She looked over at him -- he was pale and grim and silent, a contemplative look etched on his face. When he spoke, his voice was soft and very low. "You watched this?" Leia tried to control the quaver in her voice.
"Yes." His hand stretched out to take hers and she accepted it gladly, bowing her head to rest on his chest. A sharp hiss of breath escaped from between his clenched teeth, but before she could lift her head and apologize, his other hand had come up and was stroking her hair gently. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Han," she assured him quickly.
"Wasn't it?" he countered.
Leia was apalled. "Han -- " How he could blame himself for something that couldn't have been his fault...."oh." she said quietly. He was blaming himself just as she held herself at fault.
Han chuckled softly. "Oh." He could feel the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. "You always have to be right, don't you?"
"Nah," he said lightly. "Only when it's important." He paused. "Leia, I don't want you blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault. There was no way you could have prevented anything that happened."
"But I should have been able to -- "
"Leia, listen to me!" he hissed, frustrated. "You're not omnipotent! You and Luke and this Force thing -- " he paused mid-sentence to both collect his strength and reign in his temper, then continued in a softer tone. "Look, I'll admit the Force is a great asset, and I've seen it do alot more than I thought possible -- but you once told me Luke came after us on Cloud City, right?" Han waited until Leia answered with a mute nod. "He had the Force *and* Yoda, a great Jedi Master, right?" Again a nod. "And how did he help you? If I remember right, Leia, you ended up rescuing *him*." The point was stressed with enough force to snap her out of her mute state. Han had to admit to a grim satisfaction at finally getting through to her. Gently, he said, "So I don't want you blaming yourself, understand?"
Leia smiled slightly. A well-deserved lesson. He was right, though she suspected the guilt would remain for some time. But to know that Han didn't blame her for any of the horrific things that had happened to him, was enough to ease the strain on her heart. "Understood, General."
Han smiled. "Sweetheart, even without the Force, you're a 'force' to be reckoned with." He sighed quietly, obviously exhausted, and smiling, she lifted her head to prepare to leave. A whole night of waiting for five minutes with her husband. And a lesson. And yet she wouldn't have given it up for all of Coruscant, and she would be here again tomorrow night. "No, wait," Han's grip on her hand tightened.
"Han, you're tired," she argued half-heartedly. The part of her that wanted to remain was strong, but the practical part demanded he rest.
"Are you?" he questioned, hazel eyes searching her face. "You are."
"No, not really," she lied.
"Go on," Han said, releasing her hand. "Go rest."
"But, Han..."
"Princess," he said firmly, "go."
She went.
The Third Night
It seemed like an endless repetition. For the third night in a row she waited. Each time he was a little better, a little stronger, but seemingly no closer to coming home, and she was no closer to sleep. Finally, blessedly, it was time, and she could enter the place where her husband lay ensconed in the medical devices and monitors carefully keeping track of his vital signs. Tonight Han was sleeping, but as she moved in closer she could see it was a restless sleep. Han tossed and moaned softly, caught in the grip of a nightmare. She moved quickly to his side, and gently she brushed the sweat- soaked hair back from his forehead, calling his name over and over softly. The lines remained etched in his face and Leia reached out to him to sense the cause of his distress. At the first touch Han stiffened and bolted upright. Sweat sheened down his face and dampened the grey medical shirt he was wearing. His teeth were chattering and his eyes were wide with terror. His mouth moved to speak but no sound came out.
"Han," Leia said, alarmed, as her hand moved to his forearm. "Han." The sound of her voice seemed to soothe her husband. Slowly his eyes closed and his body relaxed, but Leia would never forget the look of absolute horror on his face.
Dully, Han said, "They killed Barth, Leia."
Oh. "I know, Han," she said quietly.
"You don't understand," Han struggled to sit up, his rough fingers gripping her wrist tightly. "Spaar killed him while I watched. Because," Han choked the words out, "I wouldn't compromise. I couldn't." Leia's mouth tightened into a grim line. She and Han had both seen many terrible things during their lives; Han's whole life had been on his own, and Leia the years of fighting in the Rebellion. Han was hardened, and had seen much in his lifetime -- for something to have unnerved the normally rock-solid Corellian this deeply must have been horrific indeed. She hadn't known Barth, but apparently Han had spent enough time with him to know him quite well. Lieutenant Barth's death had shaken Han to the core. "Leia, he...." Han shuddered and blocked out the sounds of Barth's pleas for him to cooperate with Spaar. He couldn't cooperate....but he hadn't known. Han couldn't speak.
"Shhh," Leia stroked Han's face gently. "You need to rest, Han. You're not well yet."
"No," Han said softly. "I can't. Everytime I close my eyes....I can't, Leia. Not yet."
"Okay," Leia soothed, searching a way to change the subject. Her hand moved from his forehead to his right cheek, gently brushing the still-healing furrows marring his face. "They say one more day and you'll be home."
A small smile lit Han's weary face. "Best news I've heard in awhile, Princess."
"That means one more day in the bacta," she reminded. Han made a face, still tired but with a bit of old humor returning.
"Huh-uh. Smuggle me in some real clothes, Sweetheart, I'm outta here." Leia smiled, and was surprised at how pleasant the movement felt. No, there had not been much to smile about these past few days.
"Surely it's not that bad," she consoled.
"You're right, it's worse. Bring 'em now."
Leia laughed and touched the scar on his chin lightly. "Maybe if you'd had bacta then, you wouldn't have this."
Han looked shocked at the thought of losing his trademark scar. "No way, Sweetie. This -- " he gestured to the scar -- "is a badge of honor."
Leia lifted an eyebrow. She'd never heard this story before. "Really?"
Han thought back for a moment and chuckled ruefully. "Actually, it's a badge of stupidity."
Leia grinned. "That I can believe." Leaning over so her head rested on his shoulder, she requested, "Tell me."
Han's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "You really don't want to hear about it."
"You doing something stupid? I won't believe it 'til I hear it," Leia teased.
His wry smile shifted into a familiar lopsided grin. "Yeah, those were wild times, Leia." Though the memory was years old, it was still as vivid as if it'd been yesterday. "Ever heard of the 'Queen of Ranroon', Princess?"
The Fourth Night
The last night. Han would be returning home to her tomorrow. And yet she waited to see him tonight. Han was sleeping peacefully, a far cry from the night before. He was still pale, but the furrows on his face were mere scratches now. How she envied him his restful sleep - such rest still evaded her. She watched him sleep, reflecting on how much he had changed her life, and how much she loved him. To almost lose him only made her resolve more firmly to show him in a thousand ways how much he meant to her. The hardships of his early life had made him rough and hard, but early on she had learned