An Alderaanian Love Story

Chapter 26

A.N.: Due to some responses to Chapter 25, I'd just like to say this quickly. With Bail and Breha's reactions to this whole scenario, I just wanted to show that they do care and they want to be okay with the relationship, but they care too much for Leia to just let it pass without a second thought. As for Leia's behavior, is it not plainly human to break down every now and then? I'm sorry, but I thought I'd portrayed these ideas clear enough. That's all I have to say. Thank you everyone for reading.

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[You said you have Solo. So, show me. I don't see him!]

Boushh, hardly one to buckle under the stress or even fear Jabba could draw, smiled under his mask, remaining calm despite the chances. The chances looked great. They really did, but he had to admit it wouldn't be enough to please the hutt crime lord. "Relax, my Lord Jabba. Solo is within our reach, practically walking into our open hands. Foolish him, you shall have him within the evening. You needn't worry, my Lord."

[It had better be so,] the great and mighty Jabba boomed, throwing out an arm to wack the poor Kowakian monkey lizard who was seated at his side. [If he is not hanging on my wall before I go to bed tonight, my hunters shall pay the price for Solo.]

"Yes, Jabba. I promise you the smuggler by tonight." Turning on his heel, Boushh left quickly, but casually, not letting his slight anxiety show. He would see Han Solo in carbonite by the end of the day or it would be him. He vowed this to himself, knowing it to be as true as day. If he failed to catch the cocky, Corellian smuggler . . . it would be a sad legend to leave, a failure Jabba would not let anyone forget.

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Dressed in typical Rebel attire, from the cargo pants to the hidden blaster and detonator pouches to the gloves and boots, Leia had to try to stifle her excitement, reminding herself constantly the seriousness of the situation. Her father had permitted her to wear these for this mission, but she knew he was still battling with whether to let her officially join the Alliance or not. She already held a certain rank within the organized rebellion, acting as a sort of spy and intermediary between it and the Empire, but it was different to fight, to be in the middle of every battle. Very different. Leia couldn't argue this and she had decided to drop the argument. Things as they were already were enough of a shock for her poor parents.

And still they'd agreed. She smiled at the thought. They were going to help her find Han and this mess would be over with. Sort of. They'd never said anything about the relationship itself and, shortly after Leia's private discussion with her mother, Sabé had told her of her aunts' plans, Mothma's agreement. The engagement of her and Isolder was finalized.
She could see their return to Alderaan so clearly now. Han would be safe from Jabba, but locked away in Alderaan's most secure prison, charged with half a dozen crimes against the princess. One count of stalking, one count of alleged kidnapping, at least three for invading palace grounds without permission, and one count of trying to escape. That's what they would say. Then, while she cried and plead in Han's defense, Celly and Rouge would drag her off, dress her like a Hapan bride, marry her off and count the money. And what a picture she would be, a princess to 64 worlds, seated on a throne that felt uncomfortable, dressed in the Hapan queen's wear of skinny dresses with a tight bodice and jewels adorning her hair and face. And none of it would feel right. She'd feel misplaced. She would feel like a doll rather than a person with servants and aides flocking to do everything for her, dress her, bathe her, practically live for her. And like a doll, she would sit and watch, unblinking, unmoving, probably thinking of the days before her expressions were painted for her.