Disclaimer: All of it belongs to George.

A/N: Another Han/Leia piece inspired by the Star Wars weekend marathon my brother and I just finished. Leia PoV, pre-Battle of Endor.


"You loved me."

The words are warm against the shell of her ear, almost too soft to have come from his mouth, jarring her, pulling her back from the brink of sleep.

It has long day after all, and tomorrow will prove all the longer, the war teetering on the edge. If they win the battle tomorrow, it could be a fatal stroke to the Empire (though it can prove equally fatal to the Alliance if they should lose).

But for now Today is over and Tomorrow has not yet begun and his voice cuts through the impossible darkness of their hut, unreasonably soft.

"You loved me." He says again, his arm light around her waist, his entire frame tense. She gets a sudden restlessness in her limbs at his words, words she's spoken twice and he has never once returned. They have never broached the subject before, and the new territory that spans before her worries her.

She wants to sit up and look him in the eye, wants this to be done properly, in the day light where both of them can see and talk, without the threat of battle on the horizon.

He has her pulled against his chest, his breath warm on the nape of her neck, and all she can do is place her hand over his own where it rest on her stomach and say, "I love you."

She trains her voice, the words calm and steady, and she hopes they don't snare in the dark.

"You love me." He says, and she shuts her eyes as he drops a kiss in her hair, on her shoulder, his body relaxing, his arm heavy around her as he breathes out a sigh of relief.

She wonders than if he's afraid, if he's holding her and thinking about tomorrow and what the odds are of both of them returning. He never did want to hear the odds.

She remembers his relief when he spotted her in the village, and the disappointment mingled with confusion when he found her outside after Luke walked away (Luke, she thinks squeezing her eyes in the darkness. Luke who is her brother and all of it rings of right in such a way that it unsettles her…but she doesn't want to think about Luke because it makes her thoughts scatter, makes them chase after the masked figure who has haunted her dreams for almost three years now).

"I love you." He says, and the words are serious and firm and entirely his own.

She feels her own body relax then, feels surprise bloom inside her at the feel of the word against her ear. He says them again and she realizes how foreign the sound is, coming from his lips, but she savors them nonetheless, hording them away inside of her, something soft and warm inside a being that has been hardened over too long a time.

She turns in his arms then, dropping a kiss at the hollow of his throat. "I know." She whispers because this too rings entirely of right but there is nothing frightening here, not anymore. "I know."

End


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