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Quote:
I think FOH should write a sequel, about that camo duster coat he wore in ROTJ.
-Aq
Quote:
HERE HERE
-RK
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I stick with them a while, laugh at their drunken jokes, drink with them a little maybe, but I'm cold too quickly. I left my coat somewhere, not that I remember where, not that I was paying attention at the time. Maybe Chewies got it. But it doesnt really matter. Except I feel
I feel strange.
Lando slaps my back and I fake a smile, laugh when he laughs but I havent heard what he said. Wedge offers me a drink and I say no. Ive had enough my head is already too clouded, my feelings already too...confused, to make things worse.
Therell be time for that afterwards.
I see, somewhere just past a campfire in the not-too-distant distance, Luke showing Leia the stars, and I almost smile.
High, high above us, even though most of us have stopped watching, are the long, white trails of shooting stars made by the blazing debris as it falls into the atmosphere. Their light depresses me, their 'victorious' trails...
I'm all but angry.
Some people are still looking up and pointing, delighted because they're drunk.
But I turn away.
I find my coat slung over a branch near one of the huts we were staying in before, and I put it on, feel the warmth of its lining, the comfort of its weight, the protection of its length and the privacy of its camouflage. It's been a long time since I wanted this.
I keep it tight around me, and I thank Kest for the extra layer over my shoulders to keep me warm. So I flip the collar up to keep the cold off my neck. Then I glance back at the campfires, making sure that my decision to leave the celebrations for now is one I really want, and I disappear between the trees and into the darkness.
As I move on through the forest, I try and ignore what I think I feel eyes on me from all directions but I know its pointless. Alive or dead, theyre watching.
How can they celebrate? After so much pain, so much suffering
I feel the ground under my feet getting steeper, and I take my hands from my pockets, feel the material tap against my legs as my strides lengthen, as I put more weight behind my steps. And then I'm there, at the top of the incline, and I see his huge carpet of treetops below me, the sky on the horizon getting lighter.
I dont know what to feel. Im not even sure if I remember how to feel. I just know Im grateful not to have lost anyone close.
So I stand and I wait with just my coat for warmth.
~
I saw him wearing it for the first time today. Im unsure how everything looks good on him, I just know it does.
But this coat, this is different. This coat is long, and I rarely see him in anything long it hinders his movement. But this hides his frame, conceals his weapons and the small movements hes inclined to make that serve him against an enemy. It billows when he stands before his men, lending an authority that borders on darkness to him, the like of which he only ever shows when his severity is called upon.
I saw him today as he watched me, and he simply stood there, one foot on an old tree stump, the other flat on the ground. And all he did was watch me, the material swinging gently.
And when he runs it seems to flow as an extension of him, to serve the fear he instils, to bring the gravity of his words and actions with it.
The style of it, the material over his shoulders, the reach of the hem, the length of the sleeves, it all seems to shroud him, hide him from us, and it almost gives the impression that its what he wants.
There was something in his eyes, behind them, something long-forgotten, something it seemed he didnt want to remember. He seemed to stand taller, straighter, seemed to watch everything with a more critical eyes.
And I understood. Hed done it all before for another side.
I watch his dark form melt into the darkness as he leaves the party and I suppress a shudder. I feel the darkness around me, but as I see the final flash of light fade into dark and he abandons the celebrations, I feel too that he needs some time.
~
The first thing that struck her was how graceful he looked.
He was in silhouette against the rosy apricot of the lightening sky where tiny points of bright light still twinkled faintly.
His back against one tree, one foot against another, the tall trunks seemed to frame him. His head was bowed, his strong profile dark, save for where the light caught the stray chestnut hairs on his head and the two-day growth about his jaw. His brow was lowered, one hand raised to his temple, the elbow resting on his raised knee, and she could see by the incline of his head that he was waiting for the sun.
So many of them had waited for the sun all of their lives.
The coat he wore fluttered slightly in the wind and a cool breeze stirred his hair, but he barely moved. Instead, she saw great sadness, a weight across shoulders that bore too much.
Han? she said softly.
His head turned a little, but he did not look at her, not now he knew she was there.
A lot of people died today, he said simply, and she knew how much it was hurting him.
She climbed the hill herself, stood next to him. Even in the orange light, she could see the pallor of his skin, and she touched the coarse stubble, stroked his cheek.
He took his foot from the tree, stood tall and enveloped her in his coat, closed it about her so that she was surrounded by warmth and the scent of him, and then, as she rested her head against his chest, he lowered his head to hers.
I just dont feel like celebrating, he told her, quiet enough so that it sounded like the confession it was.
And it was true once he had found them all safe, he had no desire to celebrate so much death.
I love you, you know, she said softly.
He nodded.
Yeah, he answered, and I love you too.
She held him tight, drew him as close as she could, and he did, too, drawing his comfort from her.
He looked up at the fading stars above their heads, considered how lucky they were to be alive to see them.
She ran gentle fingers through his hair in the way she had learned, the way he had taught her, and he realised what it was tht was missing, moving his head to look into her eyes.
"Stay with me," he told her. "Make your life and my life a life we can share together. Stay here, let me love you. Be my wife. Will you do that? Will you stay?"
She kissed him then, a blinding light to the darkness of the days gone by, and she nodded.
"I will."
A great brilliance suddenly spilled across the treetops, and Han raised his head.
Look, Princess, he said, smiling when she saw and looked up at him. A new day is dawning.


