Fic: All That Matters (Star Wars: Luke/Han - PG)
Title: All That Matters
Pairing: Luke/Han
Timeline: post-ROTJ
Rating: PG
Warnings: Schmoop. Seriously. Well it is for Valentine's Day.
This was written for imadra_blue's Valentine's Day Challenge, using the following quote as a prompt:
The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart - Helen Keller.
All That Matters
by Caryn B
Every so often the moonlight would catch the crest of a larger wave, stirred up by some distant breeze. A pale radiance highlighted its frothy momentum just seconds before it washed against the shore.
Most of the time the ocean was subdued, imprisoned by the passive neap tide of Corellia's waning moon. The gentle pull and retreat of water caused the shifting sigh of shingle and the muted clattering of polished pebbles.
Luke leaned back against the weathered breakwater, evidence of the ocean's latent ferocity that would burst forth when the cold season came round again. He scooped a handful of sand in the palm of his hand and let it run through his fingers. It was gritty. Full of the detritus of a million shells. Hugely removed from the powdery fineness of Tatooine's endless deserts.
He could smell the salt. Imagined it infiltrating its way deep into his lungs. Even the pungent aroma of stranded seaweed couldn't mask it.
A short distance away from him Han sat quietly, staring out at the vast expanse before them, his eyes following the glinting pathway that the moon had laid all the way to the horizon.
For Luke this was a rare interlude of peace. All the times he'd spent in lonely solitude on Tatooine came back to haunt him at times like this, but he'd learned by now to curb his thoughts. Brooding on the past with hindsight was never safe because there was too much to regret. Too many things he'd taken for granted and too many things he wished he could change. It was impossible to undo the past. His Aunt and Uncle had tried, but it had caught up with them in the end.
It was tempting to maintain the silence. To prolong the inevitable moment when Han would insist they leave. But the stubborn streak of fairness that resided within Luke insisted he break the spell that Corellia's night tide had wrought on him. It'd been at his request that they'd stopped en route to Kiravela, and all because Luke had caught a glimpse of deep, dark blue through the hills that ringed the Kironian Basin. And Han had obliged him with a less than average show of protest, and had only shaken his head once over Luke's rare return to impulsiveness.
"I'm ready to leave if you are," Luke said, studying Han's face in profile, certain he caught a hint of something other than the ill-concealed impatience he'd envisaged. Whatever it was, it had disappeared by the time Han turned to look at him.
"I'm glad you said that 'cause if we stay here much longer I'm gonna fossilize." Han hauled himself up, one hand on the breakwater, and brushed sand off his clothes with his other. "Not to mention having a wet ass."
"The sand's not even damp," Luke said.
"Well you obviously got the dry patch." Han stretched a little, working out the kinks from sitting still for too long. For some reason it struck Luke as odd. As though it was a delaying tactic to keep them on the beach for a few more seconds. He'd expected Han to sprint to the airspeeder the instant Luke suggested moving.
Instead, they maintained a walking speed of just above a crawl, because every so often Han would stop, ostensibly to brush yet more sand from places where it'd had little chance to get. Luke wondered if Han was having second thoughts about revisiting one of the scenes of his less-than-salubrious past. If that was the case, it was just too tempting to try winding him up. After all, if he doled it out, he had to expect it in return.
"We can always go somewhere else if you're worried about Kiravela."
Han stopped yet again but this time to peer at Luke, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "What d'you mean, worried? Why would I be worried?"
Luke shrugged. "If I had your reputation I'd be concerned in case no-one recognized me. It'd be strange if all those famous exploits got forgotten-"
Han interrupted as Luke had known he would. A pointing finger accompanied the indignation on his face. "I know what you're tryin' to say, but I don't care if people remember me or not." He tapped his own forehead. "It's in here that counts. Lessons learned. It's all part of experience."
"Yes, you've told me that a few times before."
Han smirked. "Good advice is worth repeating."
"I used to hear it on Tatooine quite a bit too."
Han's guffaw was low and full of skepticism. "Right. I can imagine the hot-shots of Anchorhead had some great tales to tell."
"Not everyone thinks bragging and picking fights is the be all and end all of life. And in case you've forgotten you hung around on Tatooine quite a bit."
"But you're not talkin' about people like me are you? Unless you're gonna tell me your Uncle let you loose in the dives of Mos Eisley."
"If Mos Eisley represents the high point of your social life, I'm glad I missed out."
"It's a big galaxy out there. If you wanna get on you've gotta mix it up a bit."
"I know it's a big galaxy. You tell me that every day. I have seen a bit of it."
"You see the inside of rebel bases and the cockpit of your X-wing. Everywhere we go you've got one eye on the cause and the other watching your back."
"If I'm with you I don't have much of a choice on the last one," Luke remarked.
"Hey - ain't me who attracts all the trouble y'know."
"Funny that, because it's always you lined up in someone's sights. Though I guess that's the price you pay for mixing it up."
"So I s'ppose this means you're not interested."
"In what?"
"Seeing the sights of Kiravela. All this arguing strikes me as you lookin' for an excuse not to go."
"I didn't say that. But when you turn every potential trip into some great lesson in life, it gets a bit much. Especially as the main lesson you keep spouting is that everyone has to go their own way."
"Sure, but if you've got the right knowledge to set you up, you'll have more of a chance to get somewhere on your own."
"And nothing I've learned so far is gonna help in any way I suppose," Luke said.
"I'm not sayin' that at all. But it's because of everything you've been through that you need to see another side of things."
"A side that conveniently includes your old hang-outs and all the attractions that go with them, no doubt."
"Alternative attractions are good for you. Just 'cause it ain't damp, dark and sandy doesn't mean it's got nothing to offer."
"No - there'll be all those smoky, sweaty bars full of people eyeing us up and wondering how many credits we're carrying."
Han didn't respond right away because it appeared that sand had now got inside his boot. "Hang on," he muttered, glowering at what Luke suspected was a perfectly innocent boot. He hobbled across to a gnarled salt-thorn tree and leaned against the trunk, tugging the offending boot off and tipping it upside down. Nothing came out of it. Luke considered that Han would've needed to roll around on the beach for several hours to accumulate the amount of sand he imagined had filled every crease of his clothing.
"If you're gonna be negative you'll miss out on all the good stuff."
"Like what?"
Han frowned and studied the boot in his hand as though searching for inspiration. He didn't appear to find any so concentrated on putting it back on instead. "There's a lot to see in a bar you won't see sittin' on a beach," he said, at last. "It all goes on beneath the surface - you've gotta watch and learn. You get to see travelers from all over the galaxy, sabacc games, every kinda food and drink you can imagine. And beautiful sights. Imagine a glass full of best amber liquor."
"You forgot the waitresses," Luke pointed out.
"I didn't realize you had that in mind." Han shot him some sort of look - a cross between a leer and a pained grin that seemed to take too much effort to appear natural.
"With all that to look forward to I don't understand why you're not in more of a hurry to get there," Luke said.
"I am in a hurry. You're the one who's delaying everything. You might as well admit you don't wanna go."
Han hadn't moved away from the tree so Luke headed off in the direction of the speeder. "You're wrong. I can't wait to get there."
Han caught him up and fell into step beside him. "And here was me thinkin' Jedi were all about honesty."
"I'm being honest. I'm interested in seeing anywhere that's part of your past."
Han aimed another look at him, ripe with renewed suspicion and disbelief. Luke gave him a benign smile that served only to deepen the furrow on Han's brow.
~~
They'd left the airspeeder in a flat, dusty enclosure on the far side of the dunes that sheltered the bay. Han made a show of brushing invisible sand from the pilot's seat, presumably blown in on a phantom gust of wind.
"D'you wanna fly?" Han asked.
Luke shook his head, contemplating the reasons Han might have for asking that. One possible ploy stuck out above the rest. That Han wanted him to take charge so they could go the wrong way, accidentally on purpose. Then it would still be Luke's fault if they didn't end up in Kiravela. Luke also wondered where all these strange thoughts of his were coming from.
"What's so funny?" Han demanded.
Luke sidestepped the question. "Will it be safe to leave the speeder somewhere? Or will we need to find someone to look after it?"
Han tapped his pocket. "I've got it sorted. There'll be no shortage of folks wantin' to guard it."
So the odds were they'd have to find another way home, but Luke held off from saying so. He didn't want to be accused of yet more negativity. He climbed into the passenger side and waited for Han to get in. The new delay involved the power-cell chamber.
"Pass me the glowrod would ya?"
"Where is it?" Luke asked.
"Under your seat."
Luke scrabbled around amidst the graveyard of obsolete tools and discarded junk, finding the antiquated, corroded glowrod. It would be a miracle if the power cell had any charge at all. He took the thought back when Han switched it on. It gave off a just discernible beam that illuminated one square centimeter in front of it. Han swore and flung it on the ground.
"What's the matter with the power-cells?"
"They're not holding the charge," Han muttered. "Dunno if we'll make it into the city with what's left."
"Seemed okay when we set off."
"Well they're not okay now."
"How about if we rig them up to the anti-grav booster?"
Han stared at him for a moment as if he'd forgotten that Luke knew most of what there was to know about speeder construction. "That ain't gonna work," he said eventually.
"Why not?"
" 'Cause it's been modified before and it'll probably blow up if we start fiddling with it."
"Okay..." Luke wondered what Han would say if he offered to try sorting it out himself. He thought he knew the answer. Han would either lose his temper, insisting he knew damn well what to do by himself, or he'd find an additional, irreparable fault with the speeder. Either way they'd end up not moving. "So do we have enough power to get back to the guest lodge?"
"Maybe. If I divert a bit from the communicator."
"Better make sure you don't blow that up then," Luke noted, "or we'll really be stuck." The portable communicator was Alliance property and entrusted to them by General Madine. Taking it back in fragments wouldn't do much for the General's blood pressure.
Han just threw him a look and rummaged around in the stow-hold for a serviceable set of tools. "Won't take long. Then we'll have to leave it charging."
"Shouldn't we let someone know first, just in case it doesn't work?" Luke suggested.
Han looked up. "You really wanna tell Madine we're makin' a few modifications to his precious equipment?"
Han had a point, but it also seemed like he had an answer to everything. And every one had the same conclusion. That they remained here, out of touch and out of power. Luke reflected that if he'd been someone else traveling with Han, he might've started to wonder about Han's motives by now. Because in certain circumstances a transport breakdown in a remote location was one of the oldest tricks in the book. More so when the breakdown was a highly dubious one. But as Han's passenger on this occasion was Luke, Luke passed over the idea and went with his first instinct. That Han was circumventing the trip to Kiravela in a way that kept his pride intact.
He scrambled back over the side of the speeder and walked round to study Han's progress. Han had the cover for the cell unit partially closed, obscuring Luke's view of the power status. Madine's beloved communicator was looking a little the worse for wear, its innards spilling out across the ground and attached wires making curving tracks in the dust.
"That oughta do it," Han said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "Course, it's gonna take a while to make a difference."
"I thought it might." Luke fielded Han's narrowed glare with a mild shrug. "Maybe we could sit back down on the beach while we're waiting."
"I was gonna suggest that. Seein' as you're so taken with it."
~~
Leaning back against the breakwater for the second time, Luke searched for that quiet mantle of peace that he'd found before. It eluded him, leaving him with a vague feeling of edginess and of something left undone. He decided it was because of Han, and the restless agitation that Luke could feel radiating off him. He studied him covertly, noting the tension evident in his outwardly relaxed pose. If Han had just achieved his objective, he had a strange way of showing satisfaction.
"Is something wrong?" Luke asked him, concern brushing aside the caution he usually maintained when confronted with Han's notorious moodiness.
"What? No."
Luke wondered if he'd misread the situation. If they hadn't stopped here in the first place they'd now be in a bar somewhere in the middle of Kiravela City, and Han would have his glass of brandy and his clientele-watching to keep him amused. "I'm sorry things worked out like this. We should've come here another time."
"It's not your fault."
That admission in itself was evidence that Han's frame of mind was not as usual. Conciliation seemed to be in order. "We've still got three more days here. We can go into the city tomorrow."
"Whatever. Bars 'n sabacc and brandy ain't all I care about, even if you think they are."
Luke frowned. "I don't think that's all you care about. I never have."
"Seems that way sometimes."
Luke twisted around to look at Han, puzzled by how they'd managed to veer into the terrain of misunderstanding. Han didn't move, but continued to stare resolutely into the distance, avoiding Luke's gaze.
"Because of the things I say?" Luke asked, feeling like he was picking his way through a minefield. "Or is that the general impression I give you?"
Han gave an irritable shrug but didn't answer. The tension emanating from him had tightened up even more, leaving Luke struggling for the right approach. Regardless of what had caused it, Luke knew he had to set the record straight. "Whatever it is I've said, it's just fooling around. I don't mean any of it seriously. Just as I don't believe you mean half the things you say to me."
"Maybe," Han grunted.
"Don't you think I see beneath the surface stuff? I know it's not all about drinking and bars and punching someone in the jaw. If that's all you wanted out of life you wouldn't be here now, sitting on this beach."
Han turned his head at last and met Luke's eyes, but his intention to divert the focus away from himself and onto Luke was clear. "What about what you want outta life?" Han gestured around at the bay and the gentle swell of the ocean. "Seems to me you can come to a place like this and it's all you need. It's beautiful, peaceful and there's no-one to hassle you. You can just close your eyes and listen to the waves and your life's complete."
"That's hardly the full picture. Sure, it's beautiful and peaceful, and yes I like to get away from crowds and obligations for a while. But it's just a small part of the whole."
"So what's the full picture then?"
"It's not something you can point to or somewhere you can visit. It wouldn't make any difference if I was in a beautiful bay or a crowded bar because it's about how I feel inside."
Luke traced an elaborate series of interlocking spirals in the sand with the tip of a finger, watching tiny, glittery particles trickle back into the furrows he'd made. On Tatooine it had been impossible to make patterns in the bone dry sand. When he glanced back up Han was watching him, waiting for him to continue.
"I guess it's something to do with the sense of belonging I have now."
"To your surroundings?" Han asked. "Or d'you mean being a part of the Alliance?"
"Both, in some ways. It shocks me when I remember how out of place I felt on Tatooine. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru must've noticed it. Makes it's pretty hard to deal with. They did everything they could to help me fit in but the only thing they couldn't tell me was the one thing I needed to know."
"I'm sure they'd have understood. You can't help who you are."
"No. For years I always felt like a part of me was somewhere else. I don't feel that way anymore."
"That's what I meant by things being complete for you now. You found out who you were and you found something to belong to."
"Those are part of it, but not all of it. I just don't know if I can explain it further." And he wasn't sure if he should. The conversation had taken on a depth and direction they rarely explored, and because of that Luke wasn't certain how to proceed. It was obvious that Han was fishing for more than just easy platitudes on the meaning of life. What wasn't obvious was why he was doing it.
"I'm all ears," Han persisted.
"I found something else besides those things you mentioned. I didn't go looking for it but it happened anyway, and it's been part of everything I've done since then. Cloud City. Jabba's Palace. Endor. Everything. It's what makes life meaningful to me."
Han didn't speak for a few moments, and Luke wondered if he'd gone too far. Or maybe not far enough. He rested his back against the breakwater again and wondered why it was that the same feelings that brought him happiness could also generate so much confusion.
"So you're talkin' about friendship?"
"Yes. But it's deeper than that isn't it? It's love."
"For Leia?"
There was guardedness in Han's voice that revealed a surprising touch of vulnerability, as though Han doubted that his role in Luke's life had any real significance. Luke couldn't understand why it had arisen, or why Han would suddenly need to seek reassurance. "Well, yes, of course," he explained. "But for others too. For you."
It was much more than he'd ever anticipated saying to Han, simply because he'd believed their friendship needed no declarations. Actions had been telling enough, and he'd always assumed that Han must know.
The unequivocal comment diminished some of Han's baffling insecurity, but it didn't do much to alleviate the tension. If anything, it was worse. And oddly, Han didn't home in on the remark but left it hanging there, leaving Luke to speculate just how Han had interpreted it.
"So what do you think I want out of life?"
It came across as a challenge, calling on Luke's earlier assumption that the things Han wished for were not as shallow as he often claimed. "Only you can say," Luke replied, "but I always thought you wanted much the same as me."
Han hesitated. "There was a time when I did. It's just not enough any more."
The hurt was sharp, angling in through Luke's ribcage and settling inside him like the bright pain of a raw wound. "Oh." It was all he could say.
Han pulled himself up from his position against the breakwater and swung his legs round, sitting so he was facing Luke. "I didn't mean what you think I meant."
"Right." Luke had already started to work on the ache inside, burying it deep beneath layers of denial.
"I meant that friendship isn't enough for me. I want there to be more."
Luke nodded his understanding. Dragged some phrases from somewhere. "You mean Leia. I thought you'd been through all that before. Decided anything else wasn't right for either of you."
"It wasn't. It still isn't. I'm not talkin' about Leia."
This time, even Luke's most concerted efforts couldn't bring forth any words. Instead, he just stared at Han, all the years of their time together culminating in an emotion he'd had no time to prepare for.
There was a mixture of relief and awkwardness in the grin Han tried to summon. "I've gone 'n changed everything, haven't I?"
"Yes."
"I'm not stupid enough to expect anything."
Luke crossed the gap to where Han was sitting. Came to a halt on his knees just in front of him, watching the wariness return to Han's face. "It's not stupid to want something or hope for something."
Han reached a hand out, brushed Luke's cheek with his knuckles. "Just keep doing what you're doing and I'll keep doing what I'm doing. It'll soon go back to normal."
"I don't think it can."
"Sure it can. It'd be easier if you didn't look at me like that though."
"I can't forget what you've said and I can't ignore what it means to me. I don't want to ignore it."
"But if you've already got all you want, why mess with it?"
"I didn't say I had all I want. You just assumed that."
Luke shifted nearer to Han, the imprints he'd made in the sand merging with those caused by Han. He was close enough to see the individual grains of sand adhering to Han's clothes, and to gauge the sentiments revealed in Han's eyes. He found Han's hand and wrapped his fingers around it. "Remember what I said before, about the full picture?"
Han returned the pressure on his fingers. "Yeah."
"There's always been something missing. But now I think I know how to make it complete."
Han searched his face for several drawn-out seconds before pulling on his hand. "C'mere."
For the longest time, Luke had denied the full truth, never quite trusting himself to acknowledge what lay deep inside him. But when his lips met Han's, any doubts he had simply slid away. It wasn't that he'd failed to listen to his feelings, but that he'd never allowed them the freedom they required.
Han framed Luke's face with his hands, a grin starting up at the corner of his mouth. "Lucky the speeder broke down, huh? We've got the right setting."
Luke smiled. "It wouldn't matter where we were." And it wouldn't. All that mattered was how they felt, and what they'd discovered together.
"I've just thought of something though," Luke said.
"What?"
"If we stay here much longer you're gonna have big problems with the sand."
Bemusement filled Han's face for a moment. "Why?"
"It'll get everywhere," Luke explained.
Han shrugged. "Dunno why you think I'd be bothered about a bit of sand."
~End~
Pairing: Luke/Han
Timeline: post-ROTJ
Rating: PG
Warnings: Schmoop. Seriously. Well it is for Valentine's Day.
This was written for imadra_blue's Valentine's Day Challenge, using the following quote as a prompt:
The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart - Helen Keller.
All That Matters
by Caryn B
Every so often the moonlight would catch the crest of a larger wave, stirred up by some distant breeze. A pale radiance highlighted its frothy momentum just seconds before it washed against the shore.
Most of the time the ocean was subdued, imprisoned by the passive neap tide of Corellia's waning moon. The gentle pull and retreat of water caused the shifting sigh of shingle and the muted clattering of polished pebbles.
Luke leaned back against the weathered breakwater, evidence of the ocean's latent ferocity that would burst forth when the cold season came round again. He scooped a handful of sand in the palm of his hand and let it run through his fingers. It was gritty. Full of the detritus of a million shells. Hugely removed from the powdery fineness of Tatooine's endless deserts.
He could smell the salt. Imagined it infiltrating its way deep into his lungs. Even the pungent aroma of stranded seaweed couldn't mask it.
A short distance away from him Han sat quietly, staring out at the vast expanse before them, his eyes following the glinting pathway that the moon had laid all the way to the horizon.
For Luke this was a rare interlude of peace. All the times he'd spent in lonely solitude on Tatooine came back to haunt him at times like this, but he'd learned by now to curb his thoughts. Brooding on the past with hindsight was never safe because there was too much to regret. Too many things he'd taken for granted and too many things he wished he could change. It was impossible to undo the past. His Aunt and Uncle had tried, but it had caught up with them in the end.
It was tempting to maintain the silence. To prolong the inevitable moment when Han would insist they leave. But the stubborn streak of fairness that resided within Luke insisted he break the spell that Corellia's night tide had wrought on him. It'd been at his request that they'd stopped en route to Kiravela, and all because Luke had caught a glimpse of deep, dark blue through the hills that ringed the Kironian Basin. And Han had obliged him with a less than average show of protest, and had only shaken his head once over Luke's rare return to impulsiveness.
"I'm ready to leave if you are," Luke said, studying Han's face in profile, certain he caught a hint of something other than the ill-concealed impatience he'd envisaged. Whatever it was, it had disappeared by the time Han turned to look at him.
"I'm glad you said that 'cause if we stay here much longer I'm gonna fossilize." Han hauled himself up, one hand on the breakwater, and brushed sand off his clothes with his other. "Not to mention having a wet ass."
"The sand's not even damp," Luke said.
"Well you obviously got the dry patch." Han stretched a little, working out the kinks from sitting still for too long. For some reason it struck Luke as odd. As though it was a delaying tactic to keep them on the beach for a few more seconds. He'd expected Han to sprint to the airspeeder the instant Luke suggested moving.
Instead, they maintained a walking speed of just above a crawl, because every so often Han would stop, ostensibly to brush yet more sand from places where it'd had little chance to get. Luke wondered if Han was having second thoughts about revisiting one of the scenes of his less-than-salubrious past. If that was the case, it was just too tempting to try winding him up. After all, if he doled it out, he had to expect it in return.
"We can always go somewhere else if you're worried about Kiravela."
Han stopped yet again but this time to peer at Luke, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "What d'you mean, worried? Why would I be worried?"
Luke shrugged. "If I had your reputation I'd be concerned in case no-one recognized me. It'd be strange if all those famous exploits got forgotten-"
Han interrupted as Luke had known he would. A pointing finger accompanied the indignation on his face. "I know what you're tryin' to say, but I don't care if people remember me or not." He tapped his own forehead. "It's in here that counts. Lessons learned. It's all part of experience."
"Yes, you've told me that a few times before."
Han smirked. "Good advice is worth repeating."
"I used to hear it on Tatooine quite a bit too."
Han's guffaw was low and full of skepticism. "Right. I can imagine the hot-shots of Anchorhead had some great tales to tell."
"Not everyone thinks bragging and picking fights is the be all and end all of life. And in case you've forgotten you hung around on Tatooine quite a bit."
"But you're not talkin' about people like me are you? Unless you're gonna tell me your Uncle let you loose in the dives of Mos Eisley."
"If Mos Eisley represents the high point of your social life, I'm glad I missed out."
"It's a big galaxy out there. If you wanna get on you've gotta mix it up a bit."
"I know it's a big galaxy. You tell me that every day. I have seen a bit of it."
"You see the inside of rebel bases and the cockpit of your X-wing. Everywhere we go you've got one eye on the cause and the other watching your back."
"If I'm with you I don't have much of a choice on the last one," Luke remarked.
"Hey - ain't me who attracts all the trouble y'know."
"Funny that, because it's always you lined up in someone's sights. Though I guess that's the price you pay for mixing it up."
"So I s'ppose this means you're not interested."
"In what?"
"Seeing the sights of Kiravela. All this arguing strikes me as you lookin' for an excuse not to go."
"I didn't say that. But when you turn every potential trip into some great lesson in life, it gets a bit much. Especially as the main lesson you keep spouting is that everyone has to go their own way."
"Sure, but if you've got the right knowledge to set you up, you'll have more of a chance to get somewhere on your own."
"And nothing I've learned so far is gonna help in any way I suppose," Luke said.
"I'm not sayin' that at all. But it's because of everything you've been through that you need to see another side of things."
"A side that conveniently includes your old hang-outs and all the attractions that go with them, no doubt."
"Alternative attractions are good for you. Just 'cause it ain't damp, dark and sandy doesn't mean it's got nothing to offer."
"No - there'll be all those smoky, sweaty bars full of people eyeing us up and wondering how many credits we're carrying."
Han didn't respond right away because it appeared that sand had now got inside his boot. "Hang on," he muttered, glowering at what Luke suspected was a perfectly innocent boot. He hobbled across to a gnarled salt-thorn tree and leaned against the trunk, tugging the offending boot off and tipping it upside down. Nothing came out of it. Luke considered that Han would've needed to roll around on the beach for several hours to accumulate the amount of sand he imagined had filled every crease of his clothing.
"If you're gonna be negative you'll miss out on all the good stuff."
"Like what?"
Han frowned and studied the boot in his hand as though searching for inspiration. He didn't appear to find any so concentrated on putting it back on instead. "There's a lot to see in a bar you won't see sittin' on a beach," he said, at last. "It all goes on beneath the surface - you've gotta watch and learn. You get to see travelers from all over the galaxy, sabacc games, every kinda food and drink you can imagine. And beautiful sights. Imagine a glass full of best amber liquor."
"You forgot the waitresses," Luke pointed out.
"I didn't realize you had that in mind." Han shot him some sort of look - a cross between a leer and a pained grin that seemed to take too much effort to appear natural.
"With all that to look forward to I don't understand why you're not in more of a hurry to get there," Luke said.
"I am in a hurry. You're the one who's delaying everything. You might as well admit you don't wanna go."
Han hadn't moved away from the tree so Luke headed off in the direction of the speeder. "You're wrong. I can't wait to get there."
Han caught him up and fell into step beside him. "And here was me thinkin' Jedi were all about honesty."
"I'm being honest. I'm interested in seeing anywhere that's part of your past."
Han aimed another look at him, ripe with renewed suspicion and disbelief. Luke gave him a benign smile that served only to deepen the furrow on Han's brow.
~~
They'd left the airspeeder in a flat, dusty enclosure on the far side of the dunes that sheltered the bay. Han made a show of brushing invisible sand from the pilot's seat, presumably blown in on a phantom gust of wind.
"D'you wanna fly?" Han asked.
Luke shook his head, contemplating the reasons Han might have for asking that. One possible ploy stuck out above the rest. That Han wanted him to take charge so they could go the wrong way, accidentally on purpose. Then it would still be Luke's fault if they didn't end up in Kiravela. Luke also wondered where all these strange thoughts of his were coming from.
"What's so funny?" Han demanded.
Luke sidestepped the question. "Will it be safe to leave the speeder somewhere? Or will we need to find someone to look after it?"
Han tapped his pocket. "I've got it sorted. There'll be no shortage of folks wantin' to guard it."
So the odds were they'd have to find another way home, but Luke held off from saying so. He didn't want to be accused of yet more negativity. He climbed into the passenger side and waited for Han to get in. The new delay involved the power-cell chamber.
"Pass me the glowrod would ya?"
"Where is it?" Luke asked.
"Under your seat."
Luke scrabbled around amidst the graveyard of obsolete tools and discarded junk, finding the antiquated, corroded glowrod. It would be a miracle if the power cell had any charge at all. He took the thought back when Han switched it on. It gave off a just discernible beam that illuminated one square centimeter in front of it. Han swore and flung it on the ground.
"What's the matter with the power-cells?"
"They're not holding the charge," Han muttered. "Dunno if we'll make it into the city with what's left."
"Seemed okay when we set off."
"Well they're not okay now."
"How about if we rig them up to the anti-grav booster?"
Han stared at him for a moment as if he'd forgotten that Luke knew most of what there was to know about speeder construction. "That ain't gonna work," he said eventually.
"Why not?"
" 'Cause it's been modified before and it'll probably blow up if we start fiddling with it."
"Okay..." Luke wondered what Han would say if he offered to try sorting it out himself. He thought he knew the answer. Han would either lose his temper, insisting he knew damn well what to do by himself, or he'd find an additional, irreparable fault with the speeder. Either way they'd end up not moving. "So do we have enough power to get back to the guest lodge?"
"Maybe. If I divert a bit from the communicator."
"Better make sure you don't blow that up then," Luke noted, "or we'll really be stuck." The portable communicator was Alliance property and entrusted to them by General Madine. Taking it back in fragments wouldn't do much for the General's blood pressure.
Han just threw him a look and rummaged around in the stow-hold for a serviceable set of tools. "Won't take long. Then we'll have to leave it charging."
"Shouldn't we let someone know first, just in case it doesn't work?" Luke suggested.
Han looked up. "You really wanna tell Madine we're makin' a few modifications to his precious equipment?"
Han had a point, but it also seemed like he had an answer to everything. And every one had the same conclusion. That they remained here, out of touch and out of power. Luke reflected that if he'd been someone else traveling with Han, he might've started to wonder about Han's motives by now. Because in certain circumstances a transport breakdown in a remote location was one of the oldest tricks in the book. More so when the breakdown was a highly dubious one. But as Han's passenger on this occasion was Luke, Luke passed over the idea and went with his first instinct. That Han was circumventing the trip to Kiravela in a way that kept his pride intact.
He scrambled back over the side of the speeder and walked round to study Han's progress. Han had the cover for the cell unit partially closed, obscuring Luke's view of the power status. Madine's beloved communicator was looking a little the worse for wear, its innards spilling out across the ground and attached wires making curving tracks in the dust.
"That oughta do it," Han said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "Course, it's gonna take a while to make a difference."
"I thought it might." Luke fielded Han's narrowed glare with a mild shrug. "Maybe we could sit back down on the beach while we're waiting."
"I was gonna suggest that. Seein' as you're so taken with it."
~~
Leaning back against the breakwater for the second time, Luke searched for that quiet mantle of peace that he'd found before. It eluded him, leaving him with a vague feeling of edginess and of something left undone. He decided it was because of Han, and the restless agitation that Luke could feel radiating off him. He studied him covertly, noting the tension evident in his outwardly relaxed pose. If Han had just achieved his objective, he had a strange way of showing satisfaction.
"Is something wrong?" Luke asked him, concern brushing aside the caution he usually maintained when confronted with Han's notorious moodiness.
"What? No."
Luke wondered if he'd misread the situation. If they hadn't stopped here in the first place they'd now be in a bar somewhere in the middle of Kiravela City, and Han would have his glass of brandy and his clientele-watching to keep him amused. "I'm sorry things worked out like this. We should've come here another time."
"It's not your fault."
That admission in itself was evidence that Han's frame of mind was not as usual. Conciliation seemed to be in order. "We've still got three more days here. We can go into the city tomorrow."
"Whatever. Bars 'n sabacc and brandy ain't all I care about, even if you think they are."
Luke frowned. "I don't think that's all you care about. I never have."
"Seems that way sometimes."
Luke twisted around to look at Han, puzzled by how they'd managed to veer into the terrain of misunderstanding. Han didn't move, but continued to stare resolutely into the distance, avoiding Luke's gaze.
"Because of the things I say?" Luke asked, feeling like he was picking his way through a minefield. "Or is that the general impression I give you?"
Han gave an irritable shrug but didn't answer. The tension emanating from him had tightened up even more, leaving Luke struggling for the right approach. Regardless of what had caused it, Luke knew he had to set the record straight. "Whatever it is I've said, it's just fooling around. I don't mean any of it seriously. Just as I don't believe you mean half the things you say to me."
"Maybe," Han grunted.
"Don't you think I see beneath the surface stuff? I know it's not all about drinking and bars and punching someone in the jaw. If that's all you wanted out of life you wouldn't be here now, sitting on this beach."
Han turned his head at last and met Luke's eyes, but his intention to divert the focus away from himself and onto Luke was clear. "What about what you want outta life?" Han gestured around at the bay and the gentle swell of the ocean. "Seems to me you can come to a place like this and it's all you need. It's beautiful, peaceful and there's no-one to hassle you. You can just close your eyes and listen to the waves and your life's complete."
"That's hardly the full picture. Sure, it's beautiful and peaceful, and yes I like to get away from crowds and obligations for a while. But it's just a small part of the whole."
"So what's the full picture then?"
"It's not something you can point to or somewhere you can visit. It wouldn't make any difference if I was in a beautiful bay or a crowded bar because it's about how I feel inside."
Luke traced an elaborate series of interlocking spirals in the sand with the tip of a finger, watching tiny, glittery particles trickle back into the furrows he'd made. On Tatooine it had been impossible to make patterns in the bone dry sand. When he glanced back up Han was watching him, waiting for him to continue.
"I guess it's something to do with the sense of belonging I have now."
"To your surroundings?" Han asked. "Or d'you mean being a part of the Alliance?"
"Both, in some ways. It shocks me when I remember how out of place I felt on Tatooine. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru must've noticed it. Makes it's pretty hard to deal with. They did everything they could to help me fit in but the only thing they couldn't tell me was the one thing I needed to know."
"I'm sure they'd have understood. You can't help who you are."
"No. For years I always felt like a part of me was somewhere else. I don't feel that way anymore."
"That's what I meant by things being complete for you now. You found out who you were and you found something to belong to."
"Those are part of it, but not all of it. I just don't know if I can explain it further." And he wasn't sure if he should. The conversation had taken on a depth and direction they rarely explored, and because of that Luke wasn't certain how to proceed. It was obvious that Han was fishing for more than just easy platitudes on the meaning of life. What wasn't obvious was why he was doing it.
"I'm all ears," Han persisted.
"I found something else besides those things you mentioned. I didn't go looking for it but it happened anyway, and it's been part of everything I've done since then. Cloud City. Jabba's Palace. Endor. Everything. It's what makes life meaningful to me."
Han didn't speak for a few moments, and Luke wondered if he'd gone too far. Or maybe not far enough. He rested his back against the breakwater again and wondered why it was that the same feelings that brought him happiness could also generate so much confusion.
"So you're talkin' about friendship?"
"Yes. But it's deeper than that isn't it? It's love."
"For Leia?"
There was guardedness in Han's voice that revealed a surprising touch of vulnerability, as though Han doubted that his role in Luke's life had any real significance. Luke couldn't understand why it had arisen, or why Han would suddenly need to seek reassurance. "Well, yes, of course," he explained. "But for others too. For you."
It was much more than he'd ever anticipated saying to Han, simply because he'd believed their friendship needed no declarations. Actions had been telling enough, and he'd always assumed that Han must know.
The unequivocal comment diminished some of Han's baffling insecurity, but it didn't do much to alleviate the tension. If anything, it was worse. And oddly, Han didn't home in on the remark but left it hanging there, leaving Luke to speculate just how Han had interpreted it.
"So what do you think I want out of life?"
It came across as a challenge, calling on Luke's earlier assumption that the things Han wished for were not as shallow as he often claimed. "Only you can say," Luke replied, "but I always thought you wanted much the same as me."
Han hesitated. "There was a time when I did. It's just not enough any more."
The hurt was sharp, angling in through Luke's ribcage and settling inside him like the bright pain of a raw wound. "Oh." It was all he could say.
Han pulled himself up from his position against the breakwater and swung his legs round, sitting so he was facing Luke. "I didn't mean what you think I meant."
"Right." Luke had already started to work on the ache inside, burying it deep beneath layers of denial.
"I meant that friendship isn't enough for me. I want there to be more."
Luke nodded his understanding. Dragged some phrases from somewhere. "You mean Leia. I thought you'd been through all that before. Decided anything else wasn't right for either of you."
"It wasn't. It still isn't. I'm not talkin' about Leia."
This time, even Luke's most concerted efforts couldn't bring forth any words. Instead, he just stared at Han, all the years of their time together culminating in an emotion he'd had no time to prepare for.
There was a mixture of relief and awkwardness in the grin Han tried to summon. "I've gone 'n changed everything, haven't I?"
"Yes."
"I'm not stupid enough to expect anything."
Luke crossed the gap to where Han was sitting. Came to a halt on his knees just in front of him, watching the wariness return to Han's face. "It's not stupid to want something or hope for something."
Han reached a hand out, brushed Luke's cheek with his knuckles. "Just keep doing what you're doing and I'll keep doing what I'm doing. It'll soon go back to normal."
"I don't think it can."
"Sure it can. It'd be easier if you didn't look at me like that though."
"I can't forget what you've said and I can't ignore what it means to me. I don't want to ignore it."
"But if you've already got all you want, why mess with it?"
"I didn't say I had all I want. You just assumed that."
Luke shifted nearer to Han, the imprints he'd made in the sand merging with those caused by Han. He was close enough to see the individual grains of sand adhering to Han's clothes, and to gauge the sentiments revealed in Han's eyes. He found Han's hand and wrapped his fingers around it. "Remember what I said before, about the full picture?"
Han returned the pressure on his fingers. "Yeah."
"There's always been something missing. But now I think I know how to make it complete."
Han searched his face for several drawn-out seconds before pulling on his hand. "C'mere."
For the longest time, Luke had denied the full truth, never quite trusting himself to acknowledge what lay deep inside him. But when his lips met Han's, any doubts he had simply slid away. It wasn't that he'd failed to listen to his feelings, but that he'd never allowed them the freedom they required.
Han framed Luke's face with his hands, a grin starting up at the corner of his mouth. "Lucky the speeder broke down, huh? We've got the right setting."
Luke smiled. "It wouldn't matter where we were." And it wouldn't. All that mattered was how they felt, and what they'd discovered together.
"I've just thought of something though," Luke said.
"What?"
"If we stay here much longer you're gonna have big problems with the sand."
Bemusement filled Han's face for a moment. "Why?"
"It'll get everywhere," Luke explained.
Han shrugged. "Dunno why you think I'd be bothered about a bit of sand."
~End~