Missing scene from Return of the Jedi
Han Solo leaned back in the elevated bed, closing his burning eyes. His whole body ached, but he could feel the analgesic the doctor (the human one; he refused to allow a medical droid to work on him) had just given him starting to kick in. He hated to admit it, but he was glad Leia and Chewie had ignored his arguments about getting checked out. After arriving at the rendezvous point, Lando had docked the Falcon directly with the medical frigate, and Han had not been happy. But his ‘crew’ would not take ‘no’ for an answer.
Six standard months, they told him. Six months of his life… gone. All thanks to Darth Vader and Jabba the Hut. He opened his eyes as his brain processed the thought that he might still be trapped in that carbonite, that he might never have gotten out, had it not been for his friends. Friends who had risked their lives for him. Friends that were loyal to the Rebellion, but had taken time away from the fight in order to free him. Him.
Granted, he knew Chewie would have tried on his own, but there was little a lone Wookiee could do, especially in this Imperial run galaxy. However, when your best friend and partner gets the assistance of a former smuggler/con man, a wanna-be Jedi, and a Princess from the erstwhile world of Alderaan…
He closed his eyes again as he thought about the latter member of his rescue team. Leia. He had been so confused and frustrated upon waking in Jabba’s Palace, but her voice and her touch had soothed him almost immediately, giving him the strength to deal with their eventual capture and escape. It wasn’t the first time in the three years that he had known her that her presence gave him energy to keep going when he would have normally backed out or quit the situation. Her courage and determination kept more than a few people in the Rebellion going, if only because they couldn’t stand the thought of this little tiny spitfire getting things done when they couldn’t.
He smiled to himself, feeling more than a little smug with the knowledge that the incredible woman that everyone in the Rebellion either looked up to or feared (or both) loved him. Or so she had said. Twice now. He took a deep breath, feeling a tightness in his chest that he didn’t think was associated with his carbonation sickness. Love. Never had he imagined a woman like her could love him. And never had he imagined he could ever love a woman again, not after getting his heart broke over ten years ago.
Thoughts of Qi’ra used to make him depressed, but no more. Not since Leia Organa had entered his life. Even before he acknowledged to himself that he was more than physically attracted to her (he had recognized the physical attraction on day one), she had kept him on his toes. Her smart, sassy comebacks to his snide and often disparaging comments had made him determined to outwit her. Their verbal war had kept him engaged and centered in a way no other relationship, good or bad, had ever done. The fact that she won as many of their ‘battles’ as he did kept him coming back for more, determined to win the ‘war.’ By the time he realized his feelings for her were far more deep than just sexual attraction, it was too late. He felt protective of Luke, and the Rebellion had given him not only a feeling of being needed but of hope. Yet, it was his feelings for Leia that had made him stay so long. And it was those same feelings that made him want to run away.
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he looked over to see the object of his thoughts peering at him from around the corner of the med bay. When she realized he had seen her, she stepped into the room, her expression more than a little unsure. It wasn’t a common look for her.
“Are you up for company?” she asked softly. She was dressed in olive colored cargo pants and a khaki blouse, her hair once more piled on top of her head in elaborate braids.
Han pushed himself up so he was sitting straight. “Oh, hell. I’m ready to get out of here.” The drugs had worked, maybe too well. His body did not hurt anymore, but it was weak, and he struggled to stay upright.
“No,” Leia said with a wry twist to her lips, quickly walking over to him and pushing him gently on his shoulders. He fell back against the pillows without any effort. “You’re staying here for a while.”
“But I don’t want to,” he griped. He knew she was right. He just wanted to argue with her. It was what they did.
She shook her head. “No time to discuss this as a committee,” she whispered.
He snorted. “I am not a committee,” he mumbled. He looked her up and down. “You changed again.” The outfit she had been ‘gifted’ with while a prisoner of Jabba had not been something she had wanted to wear any longer than she had to. Thoughts of that outfit made Han sweat. When he had finally seen it, he had felt both appreciation for the beautiful body on display and a desperate desire to protect her and prevent others from staring at her. He had found an old tattered blanket on the stolen skiff and had wrapped it around her shoulders. She had given him a soft, grateful smile, but neither of them had spoken. Once abord the Falcon, she had changed immediately after they entered hyperspace. Han had been tempted to ask if she had kept the slave attire.
“I took a long, hot shower,” she answered him. “You’ll be able to do that as soon as you can stand without assistance.”
The thought of her naked in a shower was not any kinder to him than the memory of the slave outfit. He closed his eyes and laid his head back, trying to control his libido.
“I should let you sleep,” Leia said softly, and he could feel her move away.
He reached out and grabbed her arm, opening his eyes once more. “Please stay,” he said. “Just until…” He couldn’t finish. Admitting he wanted her to stay until he fell asleep sounded childish.
But she understood. Nodding, she reached over and pulled the one chair in the room closer to his bed, then sat. Without a word, she took his hand, sandwiching it between hers. Leaning his head back again, he relaxed, watching her with eyes half closed.
He loved her. He needed to tell her. But how? He had never in his life said, “I love you,” to anyone. She was so much braver than he was, in everything. She was smart, discerning, and kindhearted. She was passionate, fearless, and forthright. She was perfect.
And she loved him.
******
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