Author: Angel

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Luke/Han

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A marriage of conveninece.

Archive: yes to list archives

Email: valarltd@hotmail.com

Series/Sequel: nope. Ties in with my Corellia stories, tho'

Web Page: http://www.geocities.com/lady_aethelynde

Notes: This is for the Slash-writers list "My Best Friend's Wedding,"
"A Fine Romance" and "Like a Virgin" challenges. It's also for Pris and all
the other Luke_and_Han ladies who wanted a wedding fic. And for the FCanon
chatters who put up with me bitching and moaning about
it for two months!

Disclaimer: The boys belong to George, I'm just playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Gratuitous schmooping. Use of the word "snookums" Slashiness,
sorta. Work in Progress, almost done

Feedback: Yes, please. Good, bad, indifferent, anything!

*****
Inconveniences
2001 Angelia Sparrow
*****

"Hey, Luke!"

He turned, and saw Han sliding down the ladder from the top of the Falcon.
His friend caught up with him as he left the hanger.

"What's the matter, kid? You look like the weight of the galaxy
just landed on your shoulders," he said. Again, he didn't add.

"Nothing much."

"Awful long face for a nothing much. Talk to me. Over a drink."

"Over dinner. I missed lunch."

"Let me tell Chewie it'll be a while." Han dashed back into the hanger and
returned momentarily. "Let's go."

They walked to a Bothan cafe around the corner from the Falcon's berth
and ordered dinner. Luke ate rapidly, and when he was down to picking
at the edges of his bread, he finally spoke.

"Taltakna is a world on the Rim. They have a huge natural supply of
k'sga, which they sell to the New Republic at inflated prices."

Han gave a low whistle. "K'sga's the best stuff there is for shielded
circuitry boards. Chewie and me did a couple of really dangerous stunts to
get the Falcon's brainboards made out of it. I'll just bet Leia wants to
bring them into the Republic so they'll lower the prices."

"Exactly. And they would prefer to negotiate with a Jedi. There is
a hitch: it's a gynocracy, and their laws specify that all post-pubescent
males must be married."

"A guy-what-cracy?"

"The women are in charge. They claim they banished war a thousand
years ago by making sure that men were kept out of real power.
Something about too violent and aggressive. So, in order
to negotiate, I have to get married. The first meeting is
in a year's time. It will let the Taltakna spread positive
news about the merger."

"Who are you planning to marry?" The words slipped out before
Han thought about them, sharper than he had intended. The idea
of his friend being forced into a marriage of convenience to
adhere to the customs of a candidate world made him angry.

"I hadn't thought much about it. Leia's out
of the question. Our relationship is too well publicized.
Mothma is already paired too. Maybe I should just ask some tech,
and get an annulment when the mission is over."

"The Last Jedi married to an X-wing tech? What you need is a hero."

"Not likely. But I'm afraid that if someone accepts, she'll fall
for me and be unwilling to dissolve at the end of the mission."

"If she's not already interested and seeing it as a way to
finally get you."

"That too."

Dessert came, breaking the awkward pause. The silence
was full of the sound of hard thinking. A solution presented
itself, but Han shied away from it. No matter how he dodged,
it persisted.

"All right." He set his glass down with finality, and scooted
his chair back just a little. "I should probably ask your
sister's permission, summon up every dead Jedi ghost I can find,
and drop to one knee. Luke, what do you think of marrying me?"

"What?"

"By Corellian law, gender and number are no object.
You're the best friend I got, 'cept Chewie, and it's
the least I can do. It would solve your diplomatic
problem, keep some poor girl's heart from breaking, and
make sure you've got a good pilot for the trip. We
can always dissolve it after the mission."

"Let's ask Leia if she'll do it quietly. She's still
got the privileges as head of state."

"No. If we're doing this for show, let's make it the
best show the galaxy has seen. On every holocast,
on every newsnet, more guests than you can count.
'Heroes of the Alliance to wed!' Chewie will have
ideas on how to handle it. Before the Empire,
he was a publicity manager for a major Kashyyk
exporter."

Surprised at this news, Luke looked at
his friend a bit more sharply. "There are
practical matters, too. It's not just a wedding,
there's going to be a whole life that goes with it.
The mission is over a year away. Do you think we can
live together that long?"

"Hey, I've stuck around this joint for
five years for you, what's one more?"

The joke brought a wry smile to Luke's face that quickly
faded under the weight of a more disturbing thought. "What
about living together? We'll have to share a bed. And
what about..." He blushed.

"I don't believe this," Han grumbled at the ceiling.
"Grown man, faced down the Emperor, and he gets too
nervous to say 'sex.' What about sex? We've bunked
together before, and aside from the fact you hog the
blankets like Chewie hogs cloudfruit, we seem to do
all right. Look," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial
whisper, "if we bond by Corellian ritual, we have to
have sex. My whole family sits out in the anteroom
to cheer, and shout and celebrate with noisemakers
every time one of us has an orgasm. Other than
that necessity, we don't have to. Won't even be
necessary if you have different rituals."

Luke's face was scarlet, and even his ears
were flaming at the mental image. "I have no idea. Threepio
will know."

"Etiquette and protoccol," Han mocked the golden droid's
vocal pattern.

"Let's go find him and ask," Luke suggested, eager to defuse the
rising tension the topic was generating. "Are Pairbonds
dissoluable on Corellia?"

"It all depends on which vows we take," Han rose to
follow him in search of the droid. "A vow by the Moons
can be easily dissolved. A vow by the Sea can only
be broken by death, if that."

"Tell me more?"

"Let's see what I can remember from my sisters' bondings..."

*****

(Logo shot. One Shot, gossip/society anchor, humanoid, pink headplumage
slightly ruffled by this latest news.)

"This is Vella for CoreWorlds. Well! You could have knocked
me over with one of my own head pinions when it was announced
this morning that Luke Skywalker, Last of the Jedi and a Commander in
the former Rebel Alliance would be marrying his long-time friend,
General Han Solo, former mercenary and smuggler who has been
romantically linked with Skywalker's sister, the Princess Leia Organa
of long-lost Alderaan."

(Two shot. Vella and gold protoccol droid.)

"This is C-3P0, a protoccol droid owned by Jedi Skywalker. He
has agreed to make the official statement."

"Thank you, Anchor Vella. Master Luke has given me the following
statement: 'In the interests of Republic harmony, and mindful of our
developing affection for one another, we, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo,
proclaim our intent to enter into a life-commitment with each other,
in accordance with the customs of our respective worlds. The ceremony
will take place in eighty standard days. We are currently seeking
a venue. Invitations will be issued in thirty days to provide
ample time for response. We thank you for your time."

Han switched the holoscreen off and flopped on the sofa in Luke's
apartment. "Sounded a lot more impressive coming from
Goldenrod than from you last night."

"Threepio always does better public appearances.
Artoo tells me we have six appearances lined up
tomorrow, together." He looked up from the readout
and sighed at his friend. "More negotiation time,
ak'ush. How affectionate are we in public?"

Hearing Luke call him by the Old Corellian word for
"male intended" brought the whole situation crashing
in on Han. He'd made the offer on the spur of the moment
and was beginning to wonder if he'd regret it. "Hand-holding,
kissing, pet-names, our public will expect it all. What are
you comfortable with?"

"I don't know." Luke got up and walked to the sofa. He sat
beside Han, at a distance he was comfortable with. "This still
looks too far apart for us to be in love." He inched closer.
"Let me know when I'm too close." He scooted closer until their
legs were touching. "This is about right for the look. I'm not
comfortable with it."

"Maybe you should stay there until you are. We have to look
natural for the shows tomorrow." Han draped one arm around him,
seemingly casual, but Luke felt the tension in it.

"Not bad, but still weird."

They sat silently, letting their bodies acclimate to the feel of
each other. Slowly, it came to feel more natural. "Han."

"Hmm?"

"You almost flinched when I called you ak'ush. Don't lovers
usually call each other silly things like 'sweetie' and 'honey'
and 'snookums'?"

"You look less like a 'snookums' than anyone I know. My sister
called her stuffed trianni that when she was a kid. How about that?
I just call you 'kid,' like I used to?"

"That's one thing I haven't missed since you've been thawed."
Luke shifted under Han's arm almost unconsciously until his back was
pressed to the bigger man's side, and Han's arm draped across his chest.
He sat up almost immediately. "No. Definitely not. Far too intimate."

"Coming from someone I'm going to be marrying in three months,
that's a riot. Come on back here, kid. We've always touched,
this is just more of the same." He caught Luke's wrist and pulled
it up to press a dry kiss to the hollow of his palm.

Luke pulled his hand away, but settled back down beside Han.
"I'm not ready for that. I'm not sure about kissing at all.
Do we need to be doing it so soon?"

"If we want them to think we're in love, we do. And we're going
to have to do this all the time, not just when we're on the holocasts
or giving interviews. Any time we're together in public, we should be
standing or sitting close, following each other with our eyes, finding
little reasons to touch each other, that sort of thing."

"You sound like you know."

"I watched six sisters and their mates. Even fell in love once
myself."

"Tell me about it, being in love. I love Leia. I love you and Chewie. But
I'm not 'in love' at all."

"In love is like being crazy. The person you love is all you think about.
You aren't interested in food, and instead of sleeping, you spend your
nights thinking sexy thoughts about 'em. You want to be
with them all the time, and when you aren't you're planning for the
next time you're together."

"Sounds complicated. Wedge got like that last year over Shara,
and they got married not too long after. He wasn't worth anything
as a wingman, because he'd be daydreaming about her when he was supposed to
be keeping an eye out for TIEs. I can't believe you doing something like
that."

"I was a lot younger, and a lot more idealistic. Kid, you're snuggling."

"What?" Luke sat up hastily. Engrossed in the conversation, he had
indeed shifted back around into the position he'd called "too intimate"
earlier.

"Maybe this won't be quite so hard after all. Look, get a night's sleep.
That first interview is early." Han got up and palmed open the door.
"There are people in the hall," he whispered, "time to practice."

Luke smiled. "Good night, ak'ush. I'll see you tomorrow." He presented a
cheek, and Han brushed it very lightly with his lips.

"See ya, kid." He strode off down the hall, whistling.

Luke shut the door, absently rubbing away the kiss, and returned to the
computer terminal. He punched up the soppiest love story holo he could find
in the catalog and began observing the actors' behavior.

The next dawn found them side by side in make-up chairs for the
Early Show with Vella. The Tirnavian was known for being a perfectionist
and insisted all her guests look as natural as possible under the lights.
She had checked in on them earlier, every pink feather in place, her brown
skin gleaming.

An hour later, they were seated cozily close on a sofa, answering an
appalling number of questions. Han thanked his lucky stars they had worked
out all their answers beforehand.

"Jedi Skywalker, what about your fanclub?"

"I'm sorry, Anchor Vella, I don't follow you."

She rolled the footage. A group of adolescent girls, all humanoid, were
seated in a room papered with various posters of Luke, watching the wedding
announcement broadcast. Some were crying, some were pounding on the walls,
and one just stared at the camera with large, over-made eyes and rocked back
and forth. One stood up and said "It's official, ladies. He's marrying
Solo. Shall we put our contingency plan into action? All in favor of mass
suicide on the wedding day, raise your hands." A few went up.

"Do you have a comment on this?" Vella asked.

Luke was horrified. "I would like to say, to any of the
young ladies who may be watching, your lives are too precious to squander
over something like this. My course is set, but you have your own to plot."

"Thank you. So, when did you realize that this was your course? General,
when did you decide you couldn't live without him?"

"The night I dashed into a blizzard on a Tauntaun." Han quirked his
famous grin at the hostess, but Luke could tell by the faint increase
in pressure on his fingers that he was at the limits of his patience.
The stage manager was signalling for a commercial break.

"That sounds fascinating. We'll come back to it after this important
message." The holocams went off, and everyone relaxed.

"We will not. Vella, what are you trying to pull, showing that suicide pact
clip?" Luke demanded, standing to go.

"Good ratings. A chance for you to speak unrehearsed. I knew you'd
plan ahead, so I needed a bombshell to get the real Luke on camera.
Now sit down."

"The real Luke is mine and his. It does not belong to the public."

She clapped sarcastically. "Nicely played, Skywalker. Try the
'and his' like you mean it next time. We're back in five. So sit, smile
and make it through one more segment. And do try harder to be in love,
boys."

The rest of the shows were a blur of answering the same ten questions
over and over. By dinner time, they dragged back to Luke's apartment,
which was closest, punched up a quick meal and collapsed on opposite ends of
the sofa.

"Never, ever again, kid. Not one more show. Not one."

"No argument here, ak'ush."

"Those little girls threw you, didn't they?"

Luke set the bowl aside and cradled his head in hands. "Oh Force,
Han. They are so young, and so miserable. They'd threaten the
same over anyone I married, including their leader."

"There're always headcases, Luke. Always. And part of bein'
a public figure is dealing with that. Not one of those girls
will kill herself. They'll all find some other hero to moon
over next month."

"I wish I could do something, though. If even one of them attempts it--"

"Her folks will get her help." Han finished. "You can't be
responsible for the whole galaxy, Luke."

"I know. But--"

"No. No but. Let it go. I'm going home. See you later."

He left and Luke meditated. Resting in the Force, he saw the
path he was set on as a road lit in gold. Side paths branched ahead,
but he would deal with those as they came. He knew he was doing the right
thing, for the New Republic at any rate, but the Force
seemed to be telling him it was the right thing for him as well.

The days passed quickly, and each day brought new visitors who were eager to
host the wedding on their world. Chewbacca sorted through the political
implications of each offer, and Luke was further amazed at his friend's
labarynthine mind. The decision was beginning to look
more and more like Mos Eisley or Corellia, even though neither man
was excited about those ideas. Corellia, Han explained to Luke, would force
them to choose between his sisters' places, or a neutral spot for family
politics. And they would be obligated to use Corellian rituals. Far more
people would understand the promise by the moons there, and take it as an
insincere vow.

Two days before the decision deadline, Han was designing hyperdrive
components to soothe himself while Luke and Chewie went over the options
again. Luke was getting quieter and more monotone in his speech, and
Chewbacca wisely decided to step out for a quick walk. Han listened to Luke
breathe raggedly, forcibly putting the auditory memory of another's
respirator-assisted wheeze out of his mind. Soon Luke's breath slowed and
seemed to rise. Han snuck a glance over his shoulder to see Luke levitating
as he meditated.

That never ceased to make him jittery. He knew Luke could levitate
other things, of course, but it was still hard get his mind around the sight
of his friend hovering in mid air, like all the laws of gravity and physics
didn't apply to him. He turned back to his designing, knowing Chewie would
be back soon and want his input as well.

A ruckus outside caught Han's attention, and he looked up in time to see
Luke lower himself to the sofa and come out of his meditation.
They stood up, prepared to see what the trouble was.

"I'm so sorry, Master Luke, I couldn't stop him!" Threepio wailed
helplessly from the door as a bizarre amphibian burst in. The ears hung
long down its back, and the eyes stood up on stalks away from its head.

"Mesa know you! Yousa Ani's boy! Looken just like him. Lotsa playen
when yousa baby. Yousa and sister first human tads mesa ever saw. Looken
berry berry strange with no tails." The visitor took Luke's hand in his
larger one, and wrung it like a long lost friend. Luke could almost feel
the metal frame of his fingers bending under the creature's enthusiasm.

"Who are you?" Han demanded, peeved at the interruption. He'd been working
on some fairly delicate part designing and the entrance of the creature had
caused him to make a dozen false lines when he sprang out of his chair.

"Mesa culled Jar-Jar Binks. Mesa High Boss of all Gungans. Yousa Mama,
Padme, she maken friends of Gungans and Naboo. Yousa Papa leetle boy when
mesa met. Mesa goen to dere wedding. Yousa marryin in same place, ya?"

Intrigued by the stranger, Luke listened more closely. "Where were my
parents married, Boss Binks?"

"Yousa not knowin? At da Great Cascade. All da Naboo rulers marryin
dere. Tis a sacred place."

"I know very little about my parents. They died when I was small, and my
guardians were very closed mouthed about them."

The Gungan clucked at this news. "Den mesa gotta grand gift for
yousa." He took out a gold sphere the size of his hand and held it
up. "Dis yousa parents wedding. Tappen twice." He tapped it twice, and a
scene formed inside the ball. As Luke watched, the young Jedi took the
lovely queen as his own, framed by the great waterfall.

He turned to his partner. "Han?"

"If you want, kid. Check with Chewie about diplomacy."

"Boss Binks, if you would let us have some time alone? I thank you very
much for this gift. We'll let you know tomorrow if we'll accept your
offer."

The Gungan bowed out and Chewie joined them.

"Would having our ceremony on the same day and in the same place as my
parents' be considered hopelessly romantic?"

*Appallingly so, cub. Can we do it?*

"Han, find this Naboo on the charts and we'll see what we can do with it.
Turns out I'm a prince and can marry in their rulers' sacred spot."

*I always knew you were, little one.* Chewie ruffled his hair and
hugged him. *Then the creature that left did not disturb you?*

"No, look." While Han was punching star charts, Luke showed Chewbacca
the hologlobe. Threepio managed to record the words of the ceremony
and they set to work altering them for the situation.

The invitations went out to everyone. All the dignitaries of the New
Republic, all the relatives, all the pilots Luke had flown with, and even
old acquaintances.

In Tosche Station, Fixer sat with his feet propped on the counter.
Life had been pretty fair, he decided. Darklighter and Skywalker were
long gone, leaving him the best pilot in town. He owned the Station,
and a half interest in the cantina. Cammie had calmed down a lot since the
first baby came, and the second was due in six months. She kept the books
for him, and they made out pretty well. Deak and Windy worked for him, and
were out in the fix-it shop, working on a speeder for the Stin boy.

"Fixer, look what we got!" Cammie came in, their dark-haired little girl on
her hip. She shoved a small holochip at him.

He played it. A small image of Luke formed on the console. "You are
cordially invited to the Bonding ceremony of Luke Skywalker and Han Solo, to
be held on Day 917 Galactic year 103482 at the Great Cascade of Naboo."
Luke's image rattled off a series of navigational coordinates. "A chartered
starliner for your convenience will dock at Mos Eisley Spaceport on Day 912.
If you plan to attend, please be there no later than suns-set, local time.
Fixer, Cammie, tell Deak and Windy they can come too."

"Wormie's getting married. Always knew it'd be to some guy. I knew
there was somethin' weird about him."

"The Darklighter family got one too. And some of the other farmers.
It doesn't conflict with the harvest or anything. Can we go, honey?"

"Why not? An all expense paid trip, who could resist?" He swung small
Saria into the air so she would giggle. "First class all the way, babe!
Chartered ship, all the fizzwine we can drink, a wedding and all the
goodies. Come up with a gift, Cammie, and we'll go. I'm gonna tell Deak
and Windy."

Chewbacca strolled into Luke's apartment with a pouch full of datachips.
*Time to pick your clothing, little ones. Oh, Hanhko, your sister Elka
sends regrets. Three of her she-cubs are expecting at that time. She said
Seska would stand in for her.*

"Great. I was counting on her to keep you in line. What have you
got for us?"

Chewie displayed the first option,

"No!" both men announced in unison.

*Some Corellian clans do bond in the nude, a total revealing of the self to
the prospective mate.*

"No," Han reiterated.

"No," Luke backed him up.

*Very well, since you won't be sensible, and insist on complicating this
with clothing, here.*

"No!" they insisted again.

"That's more naked than the last," Luke said.

"I am not goin' out in front of half the galaxy with a wreath of
linia flowers around my waist and nothing else. Chewie, quit messin'
around and get to the real stuff."

*This?*

The white tunics were simple and short, suggesting a more philosophical era.
The crowns of leaves and green sashes made Han think of the stories his
grandfather had told him as a child.

"Maybe something more modern," Luke suggested seeing Han's furrowed
brow that was not quite a scowl. "That's nice," he agreed on the next one.
"At least, I like it."

The holo showed a man in tailored black trousers of a shiny material, and a
dark blue shirt of the same, bound with a grey sash.

Chewie manipulated it, and Luke's face appeared on the model.

"That's nice, kid. I like it too. You want it? Maybe in grey for me."

Chewie brought up a second model, put Han's face on it, altered the shirt to
grey, the sash to blue and put a bloodstripe up the pants.

"That'll do fine, Chewie."

*See, cubs. It all goes so much more smoothly when you cooperate.
Here is the wedding agenda Threepio and I worked out. We leave for Naboo in
two weeks.*

"As preparations for the Skywalker/Solo joining enter their final week, the
two men have entered the ritual seclusion demanded by the Naboo faith of
Skywalker's mother.

As our past viewers may recall, Queen Padme Naberrie, Amidala of the Naboo
joined Jedi Anakin Skywalker in a highly publicized ceremony twenty-five
years ago. We think it significant her son has chosen the same day for his
own. Jedi Skywalker was, of course, murdered in the Jedi purges of
Palpatine."

Han turned off the newsnet, disgruntled at hearing the same lie told
yet again, stretched and paced a little. The week of seclusion was
taking its toll. He was not a man who liked being cooped up
planetside. The rules said he was to spend the week rehearsing the
promises he would make, planning the changes to take place in his
life and meditating on the wonder of his intended.

It all sounded like a good idea, until he figured out it meant
pacing the luxury hotel room incommunicado, spending way too much
time with Threepio, wondering if he would ever get to take the
Falcon up again, and missing Luke. That last surprised him, but
he knew it shouldn’t.

In the last seventy days, the Jedi had been a fixture at his side.
They hadn’t spent so much time together since Hoth. He had gotten
used to having Luke there again, whether to touch or joke with or
talk of trivial things. The touching was addictive. They had started
as a show for "their public," as Han mockingly called those following
their bonding saga. But over the last weeks, Han had come to realize
he liked touching Luke, liked hugging him, ruffling his hair (and
hearing Luke tease him about his bad Wookiee habits), sitting close
beside him and walking together with an arm draped around his shoulders.
Neither of them was really comfortable with kissing, so they eliminated that
from their public contact. Sleeping together was going to be a pleasure, an
awkward pleasure, but a pleasure none the less. He was glad he’d talked
Seska and Ingi out of the traditional wedding night customs.

The talking he missed most of all. Han was a fairly gregarious person,
while never letting anyone get in too close. Luke was
different now, deeper, more experienced, and better educated than he had
been when they met, and unlike the naïve desert kid, he could talk on a
competent level about almost anything.

He sighed and checked the chrono. Another hour until his next session with
Threepio. He watched the newsnet, but all they wanted to talk about was
him, Luke, and their families. And he was so tired of the lie that Luke's
father had died in the purges, even as he knew that no one needed to know
the truth of Vader's origin. He watched part of an interview with Leia
filmed three weeks before, and decided to take a nap to let his promises
soak into his brain a little better.

Luke meditated in his hotel suite, levitating slightly, and experiencing his
mother’s world through the Force. It was, as all
worlds were, unique. The Naboo were latent Force-sensitives. They
did not produce Jedi children even in the Old Republic, but they did
have an intuitive understanding of the Force. The Gungans were an
odd people. They experienced the Force as they experienced the water
around them. And once again, he mentally thanked General Binks for
the insistence that they Bond on Naboo.

He missed Han terribly. The promises weren't going to get any more
memorized, and he knew his life would change somewhat. The idea of sharing
a bed still worried him. He'd slept in Han's bed before, but only slept.
He knew there was no reason for it to be different now, but somehow the very
fact he would be pledged to Han made the idea of sleeping there different.

Funny how his meditations kept circling to that point, as if his mind
or even the Force was trying to tell him something. Aside from some
childhood games, and some furtive groping at the Station, he was still an
innocent. Not naive or ignorant, he had a wide base of theoretical
knowledge, just inocent. It was just a paper-bond, he reminded himself
before lowering to the floor to find something to eat.

_________________________________________________________________

The Cascade of Naboo was a wonder of the galaxy, miles high,
with the city of Theed built atop it. The roar of the water
was surprisingly absent, and the water above the falls was still as glass.
It was bizarre, as if the whole scene was a holo.

The Sacred Place was at the base of the falls, a lush green
bowl of a dell. The crowd gathered at the traditional time
of just before sunset.

As the first clouds began to tint orange, Leia rose and walked to
the front center of the Place. She held up her hands for silence
and beckoned the men forward to join her.

"Dear Friends," Leia's amplified voice rang across the huge natural
ampitheatre, "we come here today celebrate a joy all too often
overlooked in the crucible of war in which we lived for so long. Today, I
stand here, not only as Chairman Organa, leader of the New Republic, to
solemnize this event, but as Leia, to bless my brother as he takes a
tremendous step in his life." She beamed at the entire assembly, and turned
a very special smile on Han and Luke. They remembered seeing it years
before as she hung medals around their necks. "I welcome you to this
Bonding ceremony, which will join House Skywalker of Tatooine and Naboo with
Clan Solo of Corellia."

In the middle of the crowd, a young man leaned over to his noticably
pregnant wife. "Where'd Owen and Beru stash her? Never saw anyone
looked like that around the Station." The leer was evident in his voice.

Cammie slugged him in the arm. "She's the other one's sister, sandbrains.
Now shush."

A tall dark-haired woman from the front row stood up and moved
to the front, followed by two men and another woman. "As the eldest
member of the clan here today, I claim the right to stand for my brother.
My mates," she gestured at the other three, "also bear witness. She turned
to the crowd and repeated, "I, Seska naAhna, claim the right to stand
witness for my brother Han."

Leia nodded. "Seska naAhna, I acknowledge your claim. I cannot stand for
my brother. Who will stand for him?"

Chewbacca rose and came to stand by Luke's side. Threepio translated since
few of the crowd spoke Wookiee. "I bear this cub a life-debt, and will
stand witness as his adopted uncle."

The witnessing had been a point of contention. Chewbacca had maintained
that he was committed first to stand for Han, until both men had pointed out
that Han had family, and Luke didn't. Sentimentalist that he was, Chewie
caved.

"My brother," began Seska, "what is it you wish to do here today?"

Feeling a bit foolish, Han answered with the well-rehearsed speech. "Today,
I wish to join my life to that of my chosen mate. I wish to share joy and
sorrow, strength and pain, shelter and uncertainty with him."

Leia nodded to Chewie. He asked the same question, with Threepio
translating: "Young Luke, please state your purpose here today."

"Today, I would claim my chosen mate as my own. With him at my side,
we shall endure all hardship, share all happiness, and continue to
grow with each other and the Force."

Leia beamed again. "We have heard their declarations of intent."
She held up a golden cord. "When the rulers of Naboo married,
their right hands were bound to those of their mates. As Skywalker is
the son of the late Padme, Amidala of the Naboo, we honor this, our mother's
custom."

Seska and Chewie stepped forward and each took one end of the cord from
Leia. Facing each other, Han and Luke raised their hands to chest height
and clapsed them, palm-to-palm, fingers interlaced. Their witnesses gently
tied the cord loosely around their wrists, twining it between their fingers,
and ending it in the symbolic knot.

"Now, make your promises to each other."

The men dropped to their knees before each other on the grassy
field. Han spoke first, as they had agreed. The words were the traditional
Corellian words, with a few alterations.

"Luke, today I claim you as my own.
At my side, in my heart.
To stand beside me, to fly with me,
to share all I have and be uplifted by my love.
This I swear by the three moons of Corellia."

Seska handed him a ring made of durasteel, decoratively
marked with carbon scoring. "This ring is made from debris
of the first Death Star, encased in hull-plating from the
Falcon herself. It symbolizes the joining of our two lives.
Wear it always as a symbol of my faithfulness and love."
He slid the ring onto Luke's index finger. "When we
are parted, see it and think of me. When we are together,
let it remind you of today. I claim you as my own."

Luke looked at his mate, suddenly amazed at the rush of feeling.
Even if this was all for show, he still loved this man. If not
romantically as everyone thought, at least deeper than the friendship
he had with Chewbacca, more akin to what he felt for Leia. A deep
inner sense of connectedness, as if it was right that they should be here,
pledging to stand beside each other forever, filled him.

"Han, today I claim you as my own.
At my side, in my heart.
To stand beside me, to journey with me
to share all I have and be uplifted by my love.
This I swear by the Force that surrounds us all."

Chewbacca handed him a ring carved of dark stone and wrapped in an
odd metal alloy wire. "This ring is made from the stone that forms
the cliffs below your parents' home. The Sea tumbled it smooth. I
bound it in the wire that forms the main conductor of my lightsaber.
It symbolizes the joining of our two lives. Wear it always as a symbol of
my faithfulness and love." He slipped the stone ring onto Han's index
finger. "When we are parted, see it and think of me.
When we are together, let it remind you of today. I claim you as my own."

They rose. "This we promise," they said in unison. "And
you, our friends, witness it."

Leia spoke again. "I call upon all of you to witness that Han and Luke are
bonded from this day forward." She looked at the men in front of her, their
right hands still bound by the golden cord, and said, "Luke, Han, let me
express the feeling of all here in the words of an Alderaani blessing:
"If one walks alone, how can he bear the storms?
Now you will feel no rain,
for each of you will be shelter to the other.
If one lies down alone, how can he stay warm?
Now you will feel no cold,
for each of you will be warmth to the other."

They glanced knowingly at each other, remembering Hoth. She held her temper
and promised herself she could kick them at the wedding feast. No one else
would notice the look, or they would take it for newly bound joy.

"If one stumbles on the road, who is there to aid him?
Now there is no more loneliness.
Now you are two persons,
but there is only one path before you, together.
Go now to your dwelling place,
to begin the days of your life together.
And may your days be good,
and long among the stars.

"By the power vested in me by the New Republic, I declare you
bound to each other. Seal your pledges, then turn and receive
the approbation of your people."

This was it. The big one. They wrapped their unbound
left arms around each other and drew in close. Luke
could sense the increased heat of his bondmate's body
and the speed of his heart and breath through their
bound hands. Carefully, their mouths met. His lips
parted slightly and he gave himself over to the kiss.
It was better than he remembered, but he broke it
fairly rapidly.

Han looked at his friend for a moment, studying the face
that stared back at him. Then they turned as one and met
the applause of the crowd.

Each brought his free hand into play as they untied the cord,
the rings feeling awkward and too heavy. They turned back to Leia,
and bowed, laying it at her feet, before leading the
guests to the place where the party was laid out and waiting.

The New Republic had spared no expense, and Chewbacca had
left his sense of humor run wild in the decorating. The glen
was lit with thousands of tiny lights strung in the trees.
Larger lanterns of paplas, nearly as tall as a man, and painted
with mythical Corellian scenes framed the edges of the clearing.
Huge jars of flowers stood everywhere the lights and food weren't,
and Luke caught himself blushing again.

The pale beige flowers were lushly petalled, and opened wide and flat
to reveal a projecting scarlet stamen the exact shape of an erect
human penis. Others sported a bright purple stamen dangling obscenely
over a single flat white petal. Other buds, in sandy tan, were closed into
cleft spheres with a tight little pucker where the petals would begin to
unfurl. And green and gold flamepetals, the traditional Corellian
love-tokens, filled in all the edges and formed the cover for the ritual
bread.

Hands still linked, they walked to the High Table, and seated themselves to
wait for everyone to arrive. When Seska and her mate Brant gave the signal
that everyone was there, they rose and went to where the last ritual awaited
them.

Luke lifted the flamepetals from the loaf of bread. He held it up.
"Life is unpredictable. Sometimes we will have abundance. I will
share the abundance with you." He tore a small piece from the loaf.
"Sometimes, we will have almost nothing. Even then, I will share it with
you." He took the bread in his teeth and leaned toward Han. Han bit a
portion from it, and together they ate. The crowd cheered again. "And
today, we have abundance. So, good friends, enjoy it!"

The guests gravitated to the food tables, where delicacies and more
substantial fare had been set out for every appetite. A small musical group
began with light music to accompany the dinner. They would give way to more
rhythmic music for dancing later.

As the efficient staff cleared the dishes, Han rose and reached down a hand
to Luke. He led his newly bonded mate to the edge of the dancing lawn and
wrapped him into a close, standard dance position. The musicians began a
gentle love song, and they made one complete circuit of the lawn before the
guests joined them.

The music played, first lively, then slow, and everyone wanted a turn with
the honored couple. Even Cammie had slipped in for a dance with Luke,
leaving Fixer to swing their daughter into his arms and carry her through
the basics of a box-four.

"Dear, it is just me, or does he look a lot like Dolf?"

"He looks nothing like Dolf," Han lied, propelling his sister Willa through
the patterns of a three-step. Was it sheer coincidence? Dolf had been
blond and blue-eyed, and a little shorter than he was. They had both been
fourteen, and had become inseparable after the death of Han's mother. Dolf
had been his friend, confidant and partner in some wild schemes. They had
shared everything from a bed to a police record. When Elka had sent him to
live with Seska, on the Northern continent, Han had lost track of his friend
and lover. The resemblances were superficial, Han decided. Luke's looks
were entirely different from the scrawny, sharp-tongued fifteen year old
Willa remembered haunting the family kitchen.

Han changed the subject. "I'm amazed you dragged Grandad along on this."
He looked at where the old man was holding court under a yellow flowering
tree, Chewbacca at his side, and several of the older members of the
Republic paying their respects.

"Are you tweaking me, kiddo? As if we could have kept him away!
He damn near booted Seska's Yohz from the pilot seat and flew us here
himself. He keeps sayin' he's only ninety and that his
father was flying at the age of a hundred-thirty." She creaked her voice in
imitation of the old man. "My only grandson is getting bonded, and I'm
going and Sea and Stars help anyone who gets in my way. And that goes for
you, missy-Elka-knows-best. I remember when you were no more than a bump
under Ahna's shirt." She chuckled. "You know how he gets."

"Don't I just."

"He's a little disappointed you swore by the moons. Are you planning to
split?"

"Leaving our options open if it doesn't work out," Han said carefully.
A tap on his shoulder let him know that someone wanted in.

"May we?" Luke asked, as he moved parallel to his mate with his
own sister. "Leia would like a few words with you. My dear,
if you'll accept a default partner?"

The ladies changed places in a neat twirl past each other as the music
changed to something even slower.

"You'll be good for him, I think," Willa told Luke softly as they danced.
"Work toward that side of the field. I want to introduce you
to someone."

"Now, you're Willa, right? So many faces to remember all at once."

"Right I'm the one closest to Han's age. Seska's the oldest here, and Ingi
and Hele are between us. Ingi is the blond one. And Hele is short. You
and your sister don't look much alike."

"I look like our father, while she looks like Mother."

"Here we are. Grandad! This is Luke, Han's mate."

"Good, good. Going to tame our wild boy, are you? Sit here with me for a
minute, lad."

"I'm honored to meet you, sir. How should I address you?"

"Grandad. All the kids and their mates call me that. Although if you have
the sense the Sea gave a spinefish, you'll get your sister into the bond as
well. 'Sall well and good for our Han to bond to you, but he has to grow up
someday. Had a male bondmate myself, when I was young, but we brought in a
young lady too. Aye, Han's grandmother was quite a woman, lad. Hair as red
as Mount Birstin, eyes like the Sea in a storm and a temper just as
changeable. Your Han, he gets those Sea-storm eyes from her, you know.
Temper too. My Marta's long gone, but she could out-swear and out-fight me
and Dvig together when she wanted."

"We asked Leia to bond with us, but she declined. We will keep
our eyes open and make you a great-grandad yet."

"Love him well, young Luke. He must love you very much to swear even by the
moons. Now go dance with Seska and make her send poor Lina over here to
talk to an old man. What were they thinking dragging her along so
pregnant?"

Luke approached the two women locked in a slow, stately pavane step. He
tapped the slight brown-haired girl out, and sent her to where
Grandad awaited her. The tall blonde smiled down at him as he slipped in on
the beat, without missing a step.

"You dance well, honey. Grandad bent your ear for while, hunh?
Bout time for you and Han to make your escape for the Shakedown."

"Shakedown?"

"The trip where you work the bugs out of your relationship away from the
pressures of everyday life. Like the first cruise in a new boat or a new
starship." The band started a jizz tune. "Whoops, that's the cue!" Seska
let out a ululation that startled Luke. He and Han were even more startled
when the male members of Han's family, and Luke's pilot friends, seized them
and carried them bodily to the Falcon which had landed not too far away.
Chewie was at the controls.

"Away! Away!" cried Yohz in a voice that carried clearly through the
clearing. "Be gone, before the Wicked Ones come to curse the party.
We shall stay here and defend against them. Be away!"

They carried the couple up the ramp and dropped them in the cockpit.
Chewie hugged them both and explained to Han that he had taken care of
everything. He dashed off, and they heard the ramp close.