But she did it. 

Another chore to cross off their NEVER - ENDING list  (  though she SUSPECTS he could well have done this one on his own,  that CERTAINLY wasn’t the intended takeaway  ). Live using what they have,  make do with minimalism,  take care in what they possess  ---  really any number of blanketed lessons would fit the bill. So Leia chooses none at all. 

Rather,  she replenishes lost air forced from her lungs on impact and gathers herself into a seated position amidst dusty relics and CHAMPIONED EXHAUST GAUGE.  〈«   --- should we find ourselves stranded here ... at least the view is incredible.   »〉 Umphuelite and its GREAT INDIGO SKIES,  shrouded in secrecy,  not a hint of ocean water in sight though its forest trees wave and crash into one another with similar radiating power.

Passable  (  generous  )  phuelitian aside,  their conversation on OBJECTIVES while planet - side left a great deal to be desired. Leia woke to something yelling inside her head,  the explosive kind of desperation she’d witnessed maybe once prior  ---  and of an animal TRAPPED. When she’d gone two nights without proper rest,  it became apparent her attentions had drifted far from the desert and with them the CONCERNS of Obi - Wan.  (  He always wore his despair like a second cloak,  even if he tried to conceal it from her. Leia grew to HATE being CAUSE for its sudden return.  ) 

Then they were traveling to this rich green planet. Without word of TRAPS or CAUTION,  just a master and his padawan and the old clunker they stored for such occasions under tarps of sand  ---  〈«   THERE ! That clearing,  that’s the one.   »〉

❝   It helps when the person teaching harbors such wealth of knowledge to draw upon,   ❞   there’s a breathlessness weaved within her admission.   ❝   ---  but I suppose you’ll do until this masterful tutor appears.  ❞   Perhaps one drawn too soon. Leia’s penchant for sarcasm rolls from her tongue much like those beads of sweat off her temple.  (  If she is TIRED,  she gives no indication.  )  

Suddenly this perch of hers doesn’t feel HIGH enough,  she might as well have been standing FACE - TO - MASK with Darth Vader. A presence to aspire towards,  filling cold cavernous pits like those found on Suech with nothing beyond a single compliment. PRIDE isn’t what drives Leia,  however,  and the HUNGER soon tries  ---  again  ---  to bubble from her throat.

She craves CHALLENGE, a nameless delicacy  ---------------------

❝   Negotiations were commonplace with the Lords of Kuspead. They discovered two personal collections that you’ll find useful,  their CONDITIONS made clear. Upon successful retrieval,  we’re not to seek further retribution for contraband they themselves did not amass.   ❞   Falling reinvigorates her,  pushing off rock edge to land gracefully on the dirt surface below.

JEDI,  they’d proclaimed;  a word meaning little much of anything these days. Leia wonders whether Vader would react with similar curiosity should she explain THESE were the hoarded artifacts in question. Or if he’d seek their immediate destruction as he had countless times before.   ❝   Suffice to say, the Lords have since DISBANDED and I have their coordinates.   ❞

Breha once said : fashion a mask,  feel its presence kiss the skin of her cheeks but do not let it find anchorage. If the depth of colors become muddied,  and those finer details crinkling its mouth lost to the mind’s eye,  then they will know what lay just beyond. The illusion is broken. Hers WAS dazzling,  warm as planet - shine,  keeping those sharp features of dissenting politics wrapped in cool laughter and witty retorts where only disgust pooled. 

Here the mask pinches Leia's ears;  particularly when sat beside someone with the uncanny ability to dig his fingers underneath its frame and tug  ------    ❝  No one likes a know - it - all,  gibbous - brain.   ❞

❝   OH,  you really want to talk about this now?    ❞    Han didn’t rely on presenting complex faces to get by,  however deep THAT observation might cut into  (  his arguably only manicured  )  braggadocio. So she sighs,  kicking his boot further away from her own while adjusting around their small fire.   ❝   Alright. Let’s spell out how this works,  then : I will only ever ask of you ... of anyone what I am willing to risk myself. That includes my life. Preparedness has NOTHING to do with it.   ❞   

❝ ABDUCTION IS A MARVELOUS ICEBREAKER. ❞

❝ WELL, M’SORRY I DIDN’T REALLY HAVE TIME FOR A BOW, YOUR GRACE. ❞  Sarcasm drips like atmospheric condensation across transparisteel, not that this has any likelihood of DISAPPEARING once they hit hyperspace.  ❝ — — You’re welcome, by the way. ❞

The Falcon registers her own complaints as Han double - times a takeoff, fist tight on the yoke before Chewbacca can even get himself settled in the co - pilot’s seat.  THE EMPIRE DOESN’T TAKE ESCAPE REAL LIGHTLY — — he’d know.

Han tosses a glance over his shoulder toward the TIEs already hot on their tail, a quick upshift takin’ her UP and out to cut that pretty diamond - sparkling sky wide open in their hurry.  Chewie rumbles a go - ahead for the jump, and honestly, Han would just like a chance to get the hell out of this armor sooner, rather than later.

❝ You’re gonna want to buckle in, Princess, HYPERSPACE ain’t exactly a smooth ride. ❞

@leiader​ !

❝   Now hold off ONE second,  moon jockey. Is pushing this clunker into hyperspeed the smart move ------ !   ❞    

PICK YOUR BATTLES,  Leia.  (  Preferably fewer than those arms of hers can reasonably carry.  )  To die a free woman or the political prisoner in this tyrannical regime;  color returns to her knuckles as iron - grip releases his hostage of a headrest,  choice MADE. 

If only these well - worn seats offered the same constricting security in Han’s piloting abilities. 

Adrenaline straightens her spine,  eyes made coal - black in the reflection of empty space before them. Obi - Wan perished,  her planet reduced to molten rock,  and a motley crew without plan,  rhyme or reason being chased with sparse fighters. But by jolt and jostle and creak their vessel made it,  however impossible a SIGHT.     

STARTER || @leiader​

“Hey! Hey! Fingers out of the pot!” He said, gently nudging her aside to keep her from tasting their dinner too soon.  “What kind of manners are those for a princess, anyway?” He teased, throwing a handful of herbs in to stir together with the rest of the stew.  

The galley of the Falcon was cramped, as was most of the ship. A standard YT-1300 could hold double their amount of passengers; but considering the Falcon’s … aftermarket modifications, things started getting a bit more cramped.  Luke however was still grateful that there were few enough of them that they could all have their own bunks (though it helped that Han and Leia bunked together– to save space). 

❝    ALL MANNERS went out the airlock when you and Chuckles over there wouldn’t stop BELCH - TALKING.    ❞    Souped - up fingers --- in the most literal sense --- find their way into her mouth,  keeping the smile that threatens to break across her face shielded. They don’t get the SATISFACTION in knowing she’d found their performance equal parts disgusting and entertaining.    ❝     Besides,  worthwhile cooks taste as they go,    ❞     (  though she will justify every subsequent intrusion of the Falcon’s primary chef on this basis alone,  no hiding there.  )     ❝     And that needs heat.    ❞

Getting to know Luke outside of peril  (  quickly correcting herself and pumping those brakes,  their dinner is still at stake here  )  came with growing pains exacerbated by close quarters. They may have the same chin,  and the galaxies most tragically expressive eyebrows,  but their TASTES and STYLE would never find their harmonious mediums.