Star Wars: The Courtship of Princess Leia

by Dave Wolverton

  Hours later, Han woke to the sound of distant thunder in the moonlight, the smell of some sweet perfume. The fire had died in the hearth, and outside the window, out on the parapet, Leia stood facing him. Her long robe draped to the stone, and the scattered light of moonbeams made a halo of her hair.

  “Han, come here,” she said. Her voice rang in his ears, unnaturally loud in the still room, but not unpleasant.

  He got up from the straw mattress, slowly. He cleared his throat, and said, “What’s going on? What are you doing out there?”

  She put a finger to her lips, glanced down the side of the cliff. “Come,” she whispered.

  Han hurried over, nervous. Leia seemed so—at ease, rested. Not her usual self. Han wondered if it was just the darkness widening her pupils that made her eyes seem so large, so liquid. Leia took his hand. Her small fingers were cold, more heavily calloused than he remembered. She walked out to the edge of the parapet. “Come with me,” she said more loudly. “I won’t let you fall.” She began singing lightly, swaying in dance, and it felt as if a warm woolen blanket fell over his mind, making his thoughts muzzy. She took a step out and stood in midair, and Han thought he should be surprised, yet somehow it seemed natural for Leia to be standing in the air. He wanted to follow, but somehow his throat tightened, his face felt hot, and his knees wobbled.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Leia whispered. “The drop is not so far as it seems. I won’t let you get hurt.”

  Han’s knees seemed to strengthen, and the warm burning in his cheeks and ears lessened. He took a careful step.

  A blurring figure dressed all in hides leaped from the dark doorway behind them. The steel of a vibro-blade hummed in the air, slashed down through Leia’s face. She shrieked and dropped, clinging to Han’s wrist, pulling him over the edge.

  Suddenly Han recognized his danger. He jerked away reflexively as Leia fell shrieking to the rocks two hundred meters below.

  The figure in black pushed Han to the ground, pulled a blaster and began firing at the cliff face. There were women crawling up the rock wall, clinging impossibly like spiders. All of them looked like Leia. Han gasped, watched them scurry backward, then leap away and drop safely to the ground. Other guards rushed out to the parapets and began firing. Within seconds the Nightsisters disappeared.

  The woman who had saved him pulled back her hood, stood panting in a cloud of pale blue smoke and ozone from the blaster. “I knew they’d come for you,” Leia said, glancing sideways at Han, and only that dangerous fire in her eyes and the sure way she gripped the blaster let him know that it was the real princess. “They’ll be back.”

  Chapter

  17

  The next morning as Isolder sat at the campfire cooking a clutch of lizard eggs, he looked up at the cave walls, at stick figure paintings of women that danced on the rough stone. The smoke above the fire gathered at the top of the cave, an ominous blue cloud. Outside the sun had just risen, and flecks of sunbeams beat through the wiry trees. A long green lizard on a nearby tree flapped its gills and made spitting noises.

  At the back of the cave Teneniel stirred, propped herself on one elbow. “Thank you for staying with me,” she said, blinking sleep from her eyes.

  “It was nothing,” Isolder said.

  Teneniel argued softly, “You could have run away.”

  Isolder nodded, looked down at the fire to avoid seeing the gratitude in her eyes. Teneniel seemed thoughtful. In the corner, Artoo’s lights suddenly flashed as he powered up for the day. The little droid looked around the cave, whistled and chimed.

  After a moment, Teneniel said, “Your metal friend asked to know where Luke is.”

  A chill ran down Isolder’s spine. Every time he turned around, it seemed that Luke or Teneniel was doing one more superhuman thing. Teneniel had first come upon him by the river, danced around him, singing to him coyly, then held a rope out for him. He’d thought perhaps it was some odd custom, and as he reached to take it, the thing had leaped in the air and wrapped its coils around him so fast he’d thought it was a snake. Before he’d even thought to yell, Teneniel had stuck a gag in his mouth. Later in the afternoon he’d seen the devastated forest where she’d battled Zsinj’s troops—trees stripped of leaves, denuded of bark; even the ground had been gouged. Now she was interpreting some cybernetic code for him. It gave him the chills to be in the presence of beings with such power.

  “Luke just went to fill the canteens. He’ll be back in a moment. How much farther till we reach your clan?” He turned the eggs, listened to them sizzle and pop.

  Teneniel got up, wrapped her robe around her naked body, and walked over to the fire. Isolder thought she would sit to warm herself, but instead she leaned over and cupped his chin in her hands, then kissed his lips tenderly, experimentally. He was so surprised that he did not pull back. On all of Hapes, no woman had ever treated him that way: so casually forceful. Instead, the women around him had been respectful but distant. When she finished, she stepped back, licked her lips as if to taste him. “You are very handsome,” she said. “I wish you were Luke, and not just some commoner.”

  Isolder had to think for a moment. He’d never been called a commoner before, being the prince of the hidden worlds, yet when he saw her power, he understood how she could think of him that way. “Luke’s … a good man—a great man,” Isolder agreed. “I can see why you would like him.”

  “All night long I dreamed about him,” Teneniel said. “You could never take his place in my heart.”

  Isolder thought it such an odd thing to say that he suddenly realized that more was going on than he understood. Luke came in at that moment. “I’ve got the water bottles filled, and the trail ahead seems clear. Let’s go.”

  Isolder scraped the rubbery eggs from the pan, gave several each to Luke and Teneniel. Teneniel wrinkled her nose in disgust, but Luke said, “They’re pretty good. You ought to try them.”

  “I do not know what you eat on your worlds,” Teneniel said, “but it is obvious that you do not know how to cook.” She did not eat the eggs.

  They broke camp and walked a kilometer through the forest, then came to a wide, lightly graveled trail leading north and south. Teneniel led them south on the trail for four kilometers, then took a better road east, following a river. By midmorning they came to a low valley where fog climbed up the stone mountainsides. Teneniel led them up a winding stone trail, still wet from the night’s rain. She took Isolder’s hand and held it the rest of the way, as if he were some schoolchild that might slip off the face of the cliff. When they reached the top, he thought they had come into a valley of oddly shaped stones, but as they walked through the fog he saw the witches, dark shapes in the white fog, straddling shadowy monsters.

  Isolder stopped to stare at the women with their helms, their intricately embroidered cloaks and glittering tunics of scaled leather. Luke’s R2 unit began to rattle in its housing and moan softly. Teneniel gripped Isolder’s wrist tighter, pulled him urgently, and Luke followed.

  As they passed between the monolithic mounts, the women stared down at Isolder and gave a loud ululating cry, smiling at Teneniel and laughing. He could not doubt the meaning of the hoots and chatter. These women cheered him as if he were a stripper.

  Teneniel led them to a landing, then up a flight of stairs to a stone fortress marred from battle. Apparently their presence was causing some kind of stir, for a crowd followed behind.

  There, at the doors of the fortress, an old woman came out, bearing a staff of golden wood with a great white gem near a knob at the top.

  “Welcome, Teneniel, my daughter’s daughter,” the old woman said. “It has been months since you last visited us. Did you find what you seek?”

  “Yes, Grandmother,” Teneniel said, still holding Isolder’s wrist. She dropped to one knee. “I hunted near the old wreck at the throat of the desert, guided by a vision, until I almost despaired. But I captured this man from the stars, and I claim him as my husband.” She raised Isolder�
��s wrist in the air. “His name is Isolder, from the planet Hapes!”

  Isolder was stunned. He pulled his wrist down and backed up a step, but the women around him crowded close, cooing in admiration. “All of you sisters see this man,” the old woman said. “Do any of you dispute Teneniel’s ownership?”

  A tenseness to Teneniel’s stance told Isolder that this was a dangerous moment. The old woman searched the faces of the crowd, and Isolder looked at the warrior women. Many had dark looks on their faces, openly envious. Others smiled at him playfully, lustily.

  “I do!” Isolder said, because no one else spoke up.

  The old woman jerked back a step. “You claim that some other sister of the Singing Mountain clan is your owner?”

  “He came with me peaceably!” Teneniel argued. “He could have run away, but he gave himself!” Her voice was filled with such pain, such betrayal, that Isolder did not know how to answer her.

  “I—I only wanted to help you!” he said, looking to the old woman to referee. “She was injured. I only wanted to help care for her!”

  From the recesses of the stone archway, Leia appeared in a gown of glittering red scales. “Isolder? Luke?” she called, and Isolder’s heart swelled inside him.

  He choked back a cry, and Leia rushed into his arms, hugged him. “Are you all right?” Isolder asked.

  “Fine,” Leia said. “I can’t believe you came all this way. I can’t believe you found me! Luke,” she cried, and she hugged the Jedi. Isolder stared at them agape a moment. Somehow, he had never realized that they were so close.

  The old woman said to Leia, “Do you know this man? Is he your slave?”

  “No, Augwynne,” Leia said, separating from Isolder and Luke a bit. “He’s a friend. Where I come from, we don’t have slaves.”

  Augwynne thought a moment. “So, Teneniel captured him fairly. This one belongs to her.”

  “Isolder once saved my—” Leia began to argue, then tensed as Augwynne gave her a hard look.

  “What?” Augwynne asked. “You would plead for his freedom on the same ground that you did for Han Solo?”

  “We were attacked,” Leia said. “Isolder saved me.”

  Augwynne studied Leia’s face and said skeptically, “You seem uncertain. Why? What is the whole truth?”

  “It was a brief melee,” Leia answered regretfully. “I’m not sure who our attackers were firing at—me or Isolder.”

  “Thank you for answering honestly,” Augwynne said, patting Isolder’s hand.

  Augwynne glanced at Luke. “What of this one?” she asked Teneniel. “He’s not bad looking. Will you also take him for a slave?”

  As one, both Teneniel and Leia said, “He saved my life,” and Teneniel added, “This one is a male spellcaster, a powerful Jedi. He slew Nightsister Ocheron.”

  At those words, many of the clan sisters hissed and stepped back, gauging Luke skeptically, and some of them began whispering to one another in their own language. From the cautious glances, the frowns, the whispered voices, Isolder guessed that more was going on here than he knew. It was almost as if they found Luke’s presence to be … portentous.

  Augwynne studied Luke carefully and then glanced at the other women. She shook her head and laughed, feigning dismay. “Bah! Three new men in the village, and only one of them eligible—and him just barely? It sounds to me as if every man up there in the stars must have saved Leia at least once. All of my life I’ve wanted to travel offplanet, but now—I wonder how I’d fare. Tell me, Sister Leia, are people always trying to kill you?”

  Isolder could not miss the uncomfortable tone in her voice. She was nearly begging Leia to change the subject. “Well, the last few years have been pretty rough,” Leia admitted.

  “Perhaps some evening, you will have to sit by the fire and spin your tale,” Augwynne said. “But for now, I must make a ruling. I give this man Isolder into custody of Teneniel Djo, to keep as her husband.”

  “What?” Leia asked so loudly that Isolder jumped.

  Augwynne whispered into her ear insistently, as if to keep her quiet. “He belongs to Teneniel. She hunted for him, she caught him, and she is very lonely.”

  “But, you can’t just take him as a slave!” Leia said.

  Augwynne shrugged, waved at the women around her as if to give proof. “Of course we can. Every woman on the council owns at least one man.”

  “Don’t fear,” Teneniel said, trying to calm Leia, “I won’t use him harshly.”

  “Luke,” Leia urged. “You’ve got to stop them! You can’t let them do this!”

  Luke meditated a moment, shrugged. “You’re the New Republic’s emissary. You know galactic law better than I do. You handle it.”

  Leia stopped speaking a moment, looked at Luke and Isolder. Isolder thought about it quickly. Under New Republic law, the normal administration of affairs on any planet would be handled by the planetary governor, whoever that was, or by regional heads of office in case there was no planetary governor. In this case, Augwynne was a regional head of government, and all the New Republic could do was lodge a formal protest.

  “I protest this,” Leia said. “I protest this very strongly!”

  “What does that mean?” Augwynne asked. “Do you wish to fight Teneniel Djo for right of ownership?”

  Isolder shook his head no, and Leia held his eye a moment. “What kind of fight?” Leia asked. “Are we talking to the death, or what?”

  “Perhaps,” Augwynne said, shaking her head. “You might be wiser to offer to buy him …”

  Luke shook his head at Leia and said, “Don’t worry, Leia, it will be all right.”

  Leia waited for a long time, and said, “Teneniel Djo, I wish to buy this servant. What would you require for him?”

  Teneniel glanced around the crowd, and Isolder suddenly realized that she might have more than one bidder.

  “He is not for sale—yet,” Teneniel said.

  Leia looked at Isolder, and said, “I’m sorry.”

  Teneniel took Isolder’s hand, looked up at him, and her eyes shone in a strange shade of copper that Isolder had never seen on Hapes. Isolder let her hold his hand, and he did not feel uncomfortable. That in itself seemed odd. Everything in him, all of his training, screamed that he should fight these barbaric customs, yet on some deep level he didn’t fear Teneniel, and in fact trusted her implicitly.

  Luke hugged Leia to comfort her, and Artoo came close enough so that she could pet his sensor window with her hand. Luke said, “So where are Han and Chewie? I thought they’d be with you.”

  “They should be down soon,” Leia answered. “The sisters dragged the Falcon in early this morning. Han is checking the damage now. It got pretty well trashed during the ride down to Dathomir, but it looks like the only way off this rock. What about your ship?” Leia had an undertone of warning in her voice when she asked about the ship.

  “We could probably sell whatever is left of it for scrap,” Luke said, but Isolder noted that the Jedi did not mention that Isolder’s fighter was still intact. Isolder took it as an unspoken warning. The fog was continuing to climb up the mountain even as they spoke, and now it hung over their heads by an arm span, like some celestial ceiling.

  Isolder felt someone touch his buttocks, turned. The witches were pressing close, brushing against his back. He thought perhaps they were trying to get a better look at Leia, but suddenly realized that they weren’t trying to get a view of Leia or Augwynne, they were trying to get a closer look at him. One young witch patted his hip and whispered lustily, “My name is Ooya. Let me show you where I sleep.”

  “I think we’d better go in to talk,” Leia told Teneniel, grabbing the witch’s arm with her left hand. Leia also grabbed Isolder’s hand possessively, pulled him along. “Come on, let’s go find Han,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the other women. Isolder thought it odd how much Leia’s grip was like Teneniel’s. She had not been on the planet two days, and already she was mimicking the witches’ body l
anguage—the way they held their heads high, their peculiar strut. In another week he imagined that she would fit into their clan as if she’d been born to it. It was the type of subtle thing that only a diplomat with a great deal of training could manage.

  They went into the fortress, and though many of the witches did not follow, some of the women began whooping and making lusty ululating cries. Isolder felt his face going red.

  As they walked through the door of the fortress, Augwynne touched his arm momentarily, stopping both him and Luke. “Go visit your friends,” she said to Luke, “but come see me immediately afterward. Your coming here is no accident.”

  Leia led them through a maze of stone passageways up six flights of stairs, then down a hallway to a huge cavelike room. The Falcon filled almost the whole space. Isolder could see no large opening, no way that they could have brought the ship in.

  He studied the walls for a moment, saw that several huge stones had been cracked on the far side. Which meant that the witches had somehow broken a hole through the stone wall, hoisted the Falcon vertically over two hundred meters in the air, then resealed the wall once they had gotten the Falcon inside under the cover of fog. The witches had done a lot of work. Given the simple Iron Age technology of the place, all of these feats seemed impossible, and Isolder realized that somehow, in the back of his mind, he did not want to know how the women had accomplished so much.

  The Falcon lit the room with one headlamp, and the ship’s running lights were on. Han couldn’t have powered up so many systems outside without worrying about detection from orbit, but Isolder realized that the thick rock would cover the electronic signature.

  They went up the ramp into the Falcon, found Han and Chewbacca in the cockpit running diagnostics. A protocol droid was messing with fried wiring around the main generators.

  “Han!” Luke said, as they entered the cockpit, but Han didn’t return the enthusiastic greeting; instead, he turned back to his computer, and Isolder realized that Han felt guilty, couldn’t face Luke at the moment.