Disclaimer: Leia, Han, and the general situation are based on creations of George Lucas. This story is for the enjoyment of fans and no money is made, therefore there is no infringement of copyright.

"The first time I saw him I was struck by his eyes. His hair and eyebrows are space-black, his eyes are deep-set; you expect them to be dark, too, but they're not. They're light grey, like the winter ocean." Mali looked out the window, out over Imperial City.

"Like every other silly girl in the town, I fell in love with Enjol at first glance. We're a terrible match," she laughed ruefully, flipping her rough straw-yellow hair back over a shoulder when it fell, as it had frequently during her visit, over her ordinary hazel eyes. "He's tall and slender, built like a gymnast." She looked down over her own short and less than slim figure. "I look like everyone's version of their favorite aunt. But he doesn't mind. He says that it's what's inside that's makes true beauty."

She looked at her hostess with wide, vulnerable eyes and whispered, "He has to come back, Princess. He has to."

Leia touched her guest lightly, briefly, on the forearm. She didn't know Mali Stevrai very well; they'd met at diplomatic functions, seen each other in the Senate hall. She knew the details all politicians know about the people they work with. That Enjol was dependable, intuitive, and creative in a crisis. That he and Mali had two children, a boy of seven, and a girl almost as old as her own five-year-old twins. She knew the Stevrai family had escaped from an Imperial attack, that they'd lost people important to them. That last detail wasn't in any file, but she saw it in Enjol's eyes every time they met. It was one of the reasons she'd suggested him for this mission.

Leia sighed and looked out over the city as well. She would offer no platitudes to this woman. "There are no promises, are there Mali? No guarantees."

Between the couch where they sat and the window that constantly drew their attention was a low table graced with a golden coffeine service. The design on the delicate white cups looked as if it had been embroidered in gold and silver thread. Leia leaned over now and poured two cups, handing one to her guest.

"I wanted to do this trip myself." Leia cradled the cup in her hands as though it could warm her heart. "The Greadans wouldn't have it. They're a patriarchal society, and have little respect or use for the female of any species."

"Short-sighted of them," Mali interjected with a ladylike snort.

Leia laughed, "Isn't it, though?"

Mali drank deeply, then set her cup back on the table, folded her hands into her lap and looked her hostess straight in the eye. "You know I don't resent you for asking him. And I won't be angry with you if he doesn't come back."

Leia sat quietly and listened to the young woman sitting at the other end of the couch.

"Enjol has always had a very strong sense of right and wrong. The universe is black and white to him, and only the weak see gray. It makes him hard to deal with sometimes, but it's also his greatest source of strength. He doesn't make a decision until he's sure, and then he never backs down." She shrugged and smiled. "You should have seen him the night his son was born. There I was lying on a repulsor bed, being wheeled to the medcenter yelling 'Enough, enough, I've changed my mind!'"

Leia laughed in sympathy. "I know just how you felt. Han looked at me like I was crazy. He kept repeating 'I thought you wanted a baby!' I've never seen him so confused."

Mali smiled, too. "Same with Enjol. But he told me that this wasn't forever, and just kept reminding me about the baby. That all I was going through was going to end with our child. That it was worth it, that I would agree when I saw our son." Her eyes misted. "He was right. He was so fierce and he was right."

Leia thought about the tall young man she'd last viewed striding up the ramp of her own husband's beloved ship, the Millenium Falcon. Enjol Stevrai had the look of a falcon himself. She spoke contemplatively from her memories. "I've seen Enjol stare a rank of young soldiers into line, inspire a group of defeated and exhausted veterans to win a battle with his own energy and enthusiasm, and I've seen how he looks at you and the children, Mali. He's a very special young man."

Mali blushed but held her gaze steady. "He had to go, Princess. I know that. It's what he's good at; it's what he's made of. He wouldn't be Enjol if he didn't -- " she broke off and stared out the window again.

"I know," said Leia softly. "It's the same for Han. If they weren't so strong, so determined, so sure about right and wrong that they have to go where reason says no sane person would go, well, they wouldn't be Han and Enjol, would they? And we wouldn't love them so desperately, would we?"

"No, we wouldn't," she whispered in return.

They sat silently, comforted by the need to comfort another, until after a time Mali rose. "Thank you for seeing me, Princess. I know that you're busy--"

Leia gently interrupted her as she rose as well. "Never too busy for this, Mali. And please, call me Leia."

Mali nodded silently, with sudden tears. They walked to the door, where Mali stopped. "They will come back, Leia," she said fiercely. "They will!"

And now it was Leia who could only nod as she opened the door for her guest.

After Mali left Leia returned to the couch and clasped a pillow against the ache in her stomach. She stared out the window for a very long time, thinking about her husband, his battle partner, and a woman she would barely have recognized this morning who was now a closer friend than others she'd known for years. Eventually she stood and carefully placed the pillow into position on the couch. She fluffed it back into shape, took a deep breath, and went to the kitchen to see about dinner for the children.