AN: This chapter ends the story. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited it. Enjoy the chapter!

Millennium Falcon, 3 ABY

She clearly didn't belong to that big piece of frozen nothing that Hoth was. He watched her hum softly a song he didn't know as she put away the dishes in the small, warm Falcon's galley and considered that this lifestyle suited her much better.

On their hasty retreat from Coruscant, where their diplomatic mission had not gone exactly to plan, the Falcon had suffered severe damaging. They had had to use the backup hyperdrive to escape the Imperial freighters. It had saved their skin, but it had soon exhausted and now they couldn't jump to hyperspace anymore. At sublight speed, the duration of the journey had substantially increased. Han and Chewie had been working non-stop on the operational system, unsuccesfully: it was totally uncohoperative and for once Leia had not brought C-3PO along with her. It was on moments like this that Han truly understood the value of the goldenrod.

When he'd told Leia the bad news, she'd just sat back on the lounge and stretched her arms, a small sigh escaping her lips. She'd made herself busy and useful with the microfuser and doing the dishes every evening. On the third day he'd had to admit that they were not able to repair the ship.

"I know you're working hard", she'd said, "I can see it. But don't break your back. For once we're not about to die, we're not being followed and I don't have vital meetings to attend to in a short-term period. I guess it could be much worse".

Now, a response like that he had not expected. And as the days went by, she'd showed no sign of impatience. On the contrary, she'd comfortably settled in the slow, calm routine.

Now, as he watched her finish cleaning up the galley, he couldn't help thinking that no, she didn't belong to a rebel base at all. She belonged to a space ship. Precisely his space ship.

"Han, your eyes are digging a hole through my back, would you please stop staring?"

Han smirked.

"Sorry, your Worship. It was a very nice view"

She turned, the sponge in one hand, the other clenched in a fist. At the thought that he was enjoying the view of her backside, her cheeks turned red and not only from anger.

"You're... Impossible!"

He took a step forward and leaned against the galley's door casing.

"You like me this way"

She just laughed at that and turned back to the galley's sink. It took him half a minute to register the fact that she had not chopped his head off as he had expected. Her relaxed state made his mind do backflips.

"Care to join me and Chewie for some games?"

"Sure. Give me a minute"

"I can't believe you never played sabacc"

"I'm a Princess. Princesses are not supposed to gamble"

"You'd be perfect for it, though"

"Why?"

Chewie growled his answer and Han laughed.

"What did he say?"

"He said: 'Cause you're cold and cruel"

She turned to Chewie, eyes wide in mock shock.

"Is this what you think of me?"

Chewie laughed and lightly – impressively lightly for his mastodontic appearence – patted her head.

"C'mon, your Highness: attention to me now. I'll explain you the rules"

They were quite simple, actually, but Leia could bet it took a lot of skill to win.

"We aren't playing with money, are we?"

"Of course not. Tonight we're playing what I call TAV"

She raised her eyebrows.

"That stands for...?"

"The Alcoholic Variation. Who loses drinks. Except Chewie, he doesn't drink"

"Why?"

"A wookie's body is incapable of digesting alcohol. It hurts their organs pretty badly. Besides, somebody should be sober and drive the ship if necessary"

Leia nodded.

"But, Han, I don't think I should be drinking..."

"C'mon, Princess, the shots will be small, I assure you"

She nodded skeptically, wondering what exactly she was agreeing to.

After a while, even though she'd been winning many of the rounds, she started to feel tipsy. She had drunk less than Han, but obviously his body was much bigger and more used to drinking than hers. He looked almost sober, only his eyes were a little shinier than usual.

On the contrary, she noticed she was starting to giggle stupidly for no reasons. It was quite out of character. Still, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so light, so carefree. They had played and laughed in the most relaxed atmosphere they'd ever shared.

Chewie growled and got up. She turned to Han for the translation.

"He says he's going to get some rest while we're still up. Good nap, Buddy"

"Sleep well, Chewie"

They watched Chewie's figure retreat.

"So, Princess, do you want to win another round?"

She giggled and waved her hand in denial.

"Nah, I think I made you drink enough for tonight"

And she had drunk quite enough too. Her head was spinning in the most pleasant way.

"Yeah, you're quite good at it. You're almost surpassing the master here"

She helplessy giggled once more, but then a thought crossed her mind and suddenly she grew very serious.

"What?"

"I was just wondering what Mon would think of me playing sabacc"

Han huffed.
"Please, don't mention that party spoiler while we're having fun!"

"She's not a party spoiler!"

"Right, she's not. She's just as boring as an article on how to grow crops on Dantooine"

That had her giggling a little again.

"Don't talk about her this way. I care about her"

"Yeah. I wonder how you manage"

"She's been my mentor and tutor since I first moved my steps into the Senate. She taught me everything I know"

Including how to make her life all work and no play, apparently. Han didn't feel like thanking Mothma for that.

"You don't have to feel guilty just because for once in your life you're having fun instead of risking your life for the Rebellion"

She sighed.

"I just don't want to let her down. She is... She's the closest thing to family that's left"

Han wondered if Mothma was maybe a little warmer with Leia. Maybe she treated her like a daughter, cared for her like a daughter. Maybe the bond was tighter than he'd thought.

"Leia, you're not her. And you don't coincide with the Rebellion"

Leia's response was just a dull stare and Han wondered if it was because of the alcohol or because she really didn't understand the concept.

"Never mind, Leia, probably it's just me who can't grasp how you devote yourself to a cause. You know, being a "selfish bastard" and stuff"

She looked him in the eyes for a moment, weighing his words.

"You're not a selfish bastard", she finally replied.

Han smirked quite bitterly.

"Well, your Highness, it's your own words!"

"I was wrong"

Han's jaw dropped at the dry and collected sound of her words, as if she had come to that conclusion after a long reflection. As much as he wanted to mock her for it, he couldn't. He'd spent the past few years repeating, like a mantra, to himself that he didn't want to change her mind about himself. But still she had, in the end, and somehow it touched his heart deeply and twisted it in ways he'd never known it could be twisted.

She watched him watch her, his eyes shining - was it really the booze? - and felt the need to explain.

"Luke told me how you saved Chewie"

Han rolled his eyes. The kid was going to get killed one day if he didn't keep his mouth shut.

Leia leaned on the table to get closer to him.

"Why do you hide the good that is in you, Han?"

Her words were just a whisper. Low. Soft. Intimate.

"It's not like that", he whispered back.

"Then how is it? Explain it to me, Han. I really don't understand"

He leaned back, trying to get some more space from her, some more oxygen to feed his brain. He took a deep breath.

"Look, it's very easy: it looks like a big thing I saved a wookie, but it's just a matter of perspective. It's good to you, but it was wrong to the Empire. I got thrown out of the Academy. It's not that I regret it. I don't. But I just acted on the spur of the moment, I didn't think much about it. I didn't ask myself if it was the right thing or not, I just did it. It looks like a big thing, but it's not. There's not much good in me anyway"

"Then why did you save him? If you didn't think about right or wrong, why did you do it?"

Han frowned. He didn't know, he didn't want to know and even if he knew, he surely wouldn't want to tell her. But her eyes were gazing expectantly into his: maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was how easily she got under his skin, but he felt compelled to say something.

"He was shouting... "

She touched his arm lightly.

"He was shouting, and I was the only one who understood what he was saying. There was no way I could not be moved. They all, my mates I mean, they would have done the same if they could understand"

He poured himself one more drink and downed it in one swallow. Her hand tightened her grip on his forearm, because she sensed there was more to it.

"And then... I had a life debt to pay in the memory of another wookie"

He paused to gather his thoughts, came to the conclusion that he'd said enough.

"And that's it"

Her eyes were still softly searching through his. A kind smile played on her lips, made him wonder what she had found.

"It turns out you're a man of honour, after all", she said.

He smiled in turn and shook his head.

"Do you miss him?", she asked.

"Who?"

"The wookie who died"

"Oh... It was a she"

"Do you miss her?"

He didn't know and, again, didn't want to know. He didn't like to feel, and surely he didn't like to show his feelings. But still, her eyes... Her eyes were so intense and his tongue so loose now...

"Yes. She taught me the language and... well... everything. Everything I knew back then. And what I had to learn on my own... I learned it the hard way"

She nodded, her lips a thin line of empathetic sorrow.

"Do you feel better now that you saved Chewie?"

He smiled bitterly. He knew what she wanted to know. If she won the war, would her life debt towards her dead planet be expired? Would it get better for her? Would the pain stop? He knew it wouldn't. He'd learned that two things - and two things only - couldn't be erased: pain and guilt. There was no way out of them.

"It never gets better. The dead never comes back. Your sorrow won't subside, your guilt won't go away. Time heals some of your wounds, but at the end of the day, after ten, fifteen, twenty years you'll still feel like you want to cry"

She nodded slowly and lowered her eyes, caught his hand in her own and squeezed it, softly caressing with her thumb his index finger. She didn't let it go and he didn't pull it away.

Minutes passed as they held hands and neither said a word. But still, one of the two had to lighten the mood, in the end, and Han took on the burden.

"Does this mean we're friends?", he asked, smirking at the sight of their locked hands.

Leia laughed and got up. She moved too fast for her still alcohol-fogged brain, though, and lost her balance. He caught her just in time.

"I don't think we will ever manage to be friends. I'd call it a truce – and thanks for catching me"

Han got up too and stepped closer to her. As he felt the heat radiating from her and took in the curves of her body, though they were barely visible in the large and amorphous clothes she was wearing, he got a clear clue as to why they could definitely not be friends.

"Still, you liked me tonight"

She blinked. The air had suddenly changed.

"I did"

He swallowed.

"Do you really want to go back to the base?"

As she smiled at his question and looked away, he knew that she didn't.

"You're feeling much better here"

She'd even gained some weight. She'd even slept eight hours one night.

"Han..."

"Run away with me"

The courage came from the tipsiness of course, but he'd dreamt of asking her that for a long time.

He watched her face be washed by emotions. He knew that she wanted to say yes and knew that she couldn't. He knew it all too well, but still he hoped, for the shortest second, that he could be wrong for once.

She touched his face, stroked her thumb against his cheek, brought his face down as she raised on her toes. His breath caught in his throat. She kissed his cheek tenderly and lingered there. Her lips brushed against his skin as she spoke.

"Good night, Han".