Leia can almost see them now. She's felt the connections between them from the beginning, the sense of right that settled over her when Luke had stepped into her cell (looking ridiculous in his stolen uniform) light years away from the man he would become and the charge of energy that had come with Han's appearance on the Death Star.
She has Force ability, or so Luke says, and maybe that's why, but she isn't really interested in questioning it. The Emperor is dead, Vader with him, but the Empire lumbers on and they can't stop until it isn't.
Still, when she sits in her quarters (if they can be called by so grand a term) on the Falcon, pouring over messages, battle plans, and pleas for assistance they can't yet give, Leia can feel those connections stretching out through the ship to wherever Luke and Han can be found.
She could find them anywhere if she needed; she barely even needs to try.
"You feel it too?"
Luke nods, hair flopping with the gesture. It's growing out again, making him look less like the Jedi he's becoming and more like the boy she remembers. She brushes fingers through it and grins when he blushes. "Yes," he says, his voice a little strained. "Sometimes, when I'm meditating, I can see them. Like threads stretching out through the Force. Obi-Wan said that was part of how they found the Jedi the first time. Everything's connected, but--"
"It's not quite the same?" Leia hopes so. She doesn't like the idea of sharing this with anyone but Luke and Han.
Han looks at her and makes a face. "Threads?"
Pushing down the urge to roll her eyes, Leia hands him a spanner and shrugs. "It's metaphorical, Han," she says, and realizes that, maybe, just a little, her voice is betraying her exasperation for her. "My mind is trying to put into context what I'm feeling. They're not real threads."
He flushes, just a little, and she tries to hide the smile. He hates when he thinks someone's laughing at him and he's especially touchy about the Force. Hokey religions that turn out to be capable of toppling galactic superpowers make him nervous when he thinks about it.
It makes Leia nervous too if she's honest and she is. She's come too far and seen too much to lie to herself now. She leans into him and relaxes. "But if you'd like---"
He grabs for her and she lets out a sound that might be laughter, it's been so long since she really enjoyed it, as he pulls her to the deck with him.
"What I'd like," he says, grinning in triumph, "is for you to live in your head a little less." His lips skim her neck, teasing a sigh out of her. "You're going to forget what the worlds look like, Princess."
Leia reaches out for Luke, tugging his presence toward them, and smiles. "I'm not the only one."
Han lifts his head and looks at her. She lets her smile turn to a little grin.
"What am I going to do with you two?" he asks with an exaggerated groan.
Leia pushes him over onto his back and then straddles his hips. She shimmies a little, then leans forward to kiss him. "Something tells me you might have a few ideas."
She can feel Luke's amusement, and his interest, growing stronger in her head, like the wine from the summer palace that she wasn't supposed to drink. Han's emotions mix with Luke's and her head fills with it, making her dizzy and short of breath.
It might swallow her whole one day, this tapestry they're weaving of one another, but as fates go, Leia can't imagine a more pleasant one.
Han chuckles and bites her lip. "Leia."
Hands flat on the deck, Leia lifts her head. "Right," she says, grinning, "I forgot. Less living in my head." She grinds down and he thuds his head against the metal plating beneath them. "How's that?"
"Perfect," Luke says, and kneels beside them.
His presence, near overwhelming now, wraps around them both and Leia closes her eyes with a sigh.
"Yes," she says, and lets herself go. "Perfect."