Definitions of Destiny: Chapter 1
Title: Definitions of Destiny
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter PG-13
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 1
When Han found them, everything was just as he'd anticipated. In the center of the clearing a fire burned, the crackling of logs unnaturally loud in the silence. Other than the moon, the fire was the only source of light, and the dancing shadows it cast didn't quite reach the trees that surrounded the glade, nor the small wooden lodge sited several meters away. Luke and Leia sat on opposite sides of the fire, their bodies partly in shadow. Eyes closed, they were silent and composed, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, although the warmth from the fire must have provided a palpable link to the physical world.
Han felt a familiar pang of exclusion, unwarranted because it'd never been their intention to shut him out. But the feeling was there, nevertheless, and stemmed from the fact that he could never be a part of this form of conversation. Because that was what it was, even though Luke and Leia's words remained unspoken and no actual contact passed between them. Han watched them, wondering again at the silent flow of communication that the twins had developed and honed almost to perfection.
The three of them came here whenever there was an opportunity to escape. Together with Chewie, they'd worked hard to set the place up, clearing away the weeds that had started to choke the glade, and renovating the small wooden hut that had begun its slow crumble into decay. They'd stocked the hut with supplies - bottles of water and wine, energy bars and dried fruit, candles and rugs. The place had no set purpose, but served to give them what they wanted at any particular time. It could be for training or peaceful contemplation, for laughter or silence.
If Luke came alone, he'd often push himself to the extremes of physical exertion, running for miles through the dense woodland, stopping only when he could do no more. Or he'd use the clearing to turn and pivot with near-impossible agility, his lightsaber leaving vibrant trails in the night air. Or sometimes he just sat, opening his mind to everything around him, feeling the pulse of life's energies in a way that Han could never truly understand.
When Han joined him, they'd run together. It was punishing and exhilarating, and invariably ended with Han raising a hand in exhaustion. Then they'd drag rugs from the hut, light the fire and open the wine, talking long into the night.
When Leia came, the air would fill with the buzz of clashing blades as Luke and Leia's lightsabers showered the darkness with bright, angry sparks. When Han had first seen them do this, his stomach had clenched with anxiety because it looked too dangerous. Even though they were cautious, the risks seemed enormous. Yet they never ended up hurting each other. Somewhere within their bond came the ability to read each other's movements with a precision that left Han shaking his head with disbelief. Leia's lightsaber was blue, like the one Luke had lost on Bespin. The twins had built it together, with Leia placing the components and cutting the crystal under Luke's guidance. They'd all held their breath when she'd first activated it, fearful of an error or a potentially fatal misalignment. But they needn't have worried, because it was perfect.
Many times, the twins would sit as they were now, with the fire protecting them from the cold night air. During their early attempts at this silent communication, Leia would often speak out loud, her words punctuating the silence as though at random. Leia had quickly developed her ability to hear Luke's voice in her mind, but it had taken longer for her to project her own words back along that unfathomable route. With training, even that had come.
It was almost invariably night when they came here, because the demands of the day gave them little respite and no time for privacy and seclusion. Leia often remarked that down in the base, the constant pressure drowned out this other, less tangible, part of her that was growing stronger day by day.
Now, Han studied their faces in the firelight. Only up here did he see a degree of relaxation and peace that normally eluded them, and he'd come to the conclusion that this could only be found in their unity with the Force. Along that same line of reasoning came Han's belief that true happiness was something he could never provide, regardless of how much he wanted that.
Han took careful note of the tranquility he saw in Luke's face, made almost ethereal in the half light. And then, eyes still closed, Luke smiled. It was a transformation - and one that Han wished he could provoke more often. Han smiled back at him, even before Luke's eyes had opened and fully acknowledged his presence. Luke had known he was there the moment he'd arrived of course. He always knew.
And then the silence was over, and both Luke and Leia were moving towards him, handing him a rug, passing him a goblet of wine, enfolding him in the familiar warmth of love and friendship. Han sipped his wine, pushing aside his earlier, momentary loneliness, recognizing it as just one more pointless emotion that had no place in his life. Because the reality was that they all needed each other. Han knew this was true, yet somehow the small ache, that he only ever temporarily quelled, still remained deep inside.
The three of them sat there for a long while, turned sleepy from the wine and the lateness, watching the fire burn lower until it was merely a smoldering reminder of its former self. Then Luke stood, stretching limbs grown heavy through inactivity.
"I'm gonna head back," he said. "You two can finish the wine."
Han, knowing what Luke really meant, attempted a grin. Leia smiled, hugging Luke before he turned to go back down the hill, his glowtorch casting a pale aura around him.
Leia reached for her goblet and moved to sit close to Han, but the gesture lacked the confidence she would once have shown. Aware of this, Han flinched inwardly with familiar, guilty regret. He was acutely conscious of Leia's need for reassurance, and berated himself silently for his inability to offer it unreservedly. He put his arm around her, holding her tightly, but his eyes sought the path that wound itself tortuously down the hill. He watched until Luke's shadowy outline had completely disappeared into the darkness. As always, it felt to Han like a small part of himself had left with Luke.
chapter 2
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter PG-13
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 1
When Han found them, everything was just as he'd anticipated. In the center of the clearing a fire burned, the crackling of logs unnaturally loud in the silence. Other than the moon, the fire was the only source of light, and the dancing shadows it cast didn't quite reach the trees that surrounded the glade, nor the small wooden lodge sited several meters away. Luke and Leia sat on opposite sides of the fire, their bodies partly in shadow. Eyes closed, they were silent and composed, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, although the warmth from the fire must have provided a palpable link to the physical world.
Han felt a familiar pang of exclusion, unwarranted because it'd never been their intention to shut him out. But the feeling was there, nevertheless, and stemmed from the fact that he could never be a part of this form of conversation. Because that was what it was, even though Luke and Leia's words remained unspoken and no actual contact passed between them. Han watched them, wondering again at the silent flow of communication that the twins had developed and honed almost to perfection.
The three of them came here whenever there was an opportunity to escape. Together with Chewie, they'd worked hard to set the place up, clearing away the weeds that had started to choke the glade, and renovating the small wooden hut that had begun its slow crumble into decay. They'd stocked the hut with supplies - bottles of water and wine, energy bars and dried fruit, candles and rugs. The place had no set purpose, but served to give them what they wanted at any particular time. It could be for training or peaceful contemplation, for laughter or silence.
If Luke came alone, he'd often push himself to the extremes of physical exertion, running for miles through the dense woodland, stopping only when he could do no more. Or he'd use the clearing to turn and pivot with near-impossible agility, his lightsaber leaving vibrant trails in the night air. Or sometimes he just sat, opening his mind to everything around him, feeling the pulse of life's energies in a way that Han could never truly understand.
When Han joined him, they'd run together. It was punishing and exhilarating, and invariably ended with Han raising a hand in exhaustion. Then they'd drag rugs from the hut, light the fire and open the wine, talking long into the night.
When Leia came, the air would fill with the buzz of clashing blades as Luke and Leia's lightsabers showered the darkness with bright, angry sparks. When Han had first seen them do this, his stomach had clenched with anxiety because it looked too dangerous. Even though they were cautious, the risks seemed enormous. Yet they never ended up hurting each other. Somewhere within their bond came the ability to read each other's movements with a precision that left Han shaking his head with disbelief. Leia's lightsaber was blue, like the one Luke had lost on Bespin. The twins had built it together, with Leia placing the components and cutting the crystal under Luke's guidance. They'd all held their breath when she'd first activated it, fearful of an error or a potentially fatal misalignment. But they needn't have worried, because it was perfect.
Many times, the twins would sit as they were now, with the fire protecting them from the cold night air. During their early attempts at this silent communication, Leia would often speak out loud, her words punctuating the silence as though at random. Leia had quickly developed her ability to hear Luke's voice in her mind, but it had taken longer for her to project her own words back along that unfathomable route. With training, even that had come.
It was almost invariably night when they came here, because the demands of the day gave them little respite and no time for privacy and seclusion. Leia often remarked that down in the base, the constant pressure drowned out this other, less tangible, part of her that was growing stronger day by day.
Now, Han studied their faces in the firelight. Only up here did he see a degree of relaxation and peace that normally eluded them, and he'd come to the conclusion that this could only be found in their unity with the Force. Along that same line of reasoning came Han's belief that true happiness was something he could never provide, regardless of how much he wanted that.
Han took careful note of the tranquility he saw in Luke's face, made almost ethereal in the half light. And then, eyes still closed, Luke smiled. It was a transformation - and one that Han wished he could provoke more often. Han smiled back at him, even before Luke's eyes had opened and fully acknowledged his presence. Luke had known he was there the moment he'd arrived of course. He always knew.
And then the silence was over, and both Luke and Leia were moving towards him, handing him a rug, passing him a goblet of wine, enfolding him in the familiar warmth of love and friendship. Han sipped his wine, pushing aside his earlier, momentary loneliness, recognizing it as just one more pointless emotion that had no place in his life. Because the reality was that they all needed each other. Han knew this was true, yet somehow the small ache, that he only ever temporarily quelled, still remained deep inside.
The three of them sat there for a long while, turned sleepy from the wine and the lateness, watching the fire burn lower until it was merely a smoldering reminder of its former self. Then Luke stood, stretching limbs grown heavy through inactivity.
"I'm gonna head back," he said. "You two can finish the wine."
Han, knowing what Luke really meant, attempted a grin. Leia smiled, hugging Luke before he turned to go back down the hill, his glowtorch casting a pale aura around him.
Leia reached for her goblet and moved to sit close to Han, but the gesture lacked the confidence she would once have shown. Aware of this, Han flinched inwardly with familiar, guilty regret. He was acutely conscious of Leia's need for reassurance, and berated himself silently for his inability to offer it unreservedly. He put his arm around her, holding her tightly, but his eyes sought the path that wound itself tortuously down the hill. He watched until Luke's shadowy outline had completely disappeared into the darkness. As always, it felt to Han like a small part of himself had left with Luke.
chapter 2