It didn't smell like him anymore, of course, not after all the times she'd had to wash it, but it was still his, and therefore a piece of him, and it helped her sleep. As Princess of Alderaan, she'd slept on shimmersilk sheets, as Rebel leader, she used the standard issue thermal blankets everyone used. She'd never encountered anything like Han's rough warm nerf-wool spacer's blanket before, and even once she got him back he was in danger of permanently losing it. She liked the slightly rough texture, the way it was big enough to wrap up in like a fancy breakfast crépe with Leia filling.

Whenever the longing for him became too much, she would return to her quarters and swathe herself in his blanket, crying into the material that was such a peculiarly good analogy to its former owner – a little rough, a little scratchy, but warm and comforting. She lay in her bunk, curled up and snugly wrapped up, running her hand over the blanket where the edge lay beside her. She would have to get up soon and get back to work, of course, but she would steal just a minute more first to just lay and wish he were here, to share the blanket with her.