The party after the destruction of the second Death Star is pretty impressive, considering that it's been planned and put on by a group of war-mongering Ewoks. Once Luke joins Han and Leia, trying to find a smile despite Darth Vader's death, the three of them are feted like nobody present tried to cook and eat two of them this week. They're fed until Leia's sure she won't be able to move if she takes another bite (which, she thinks wryly, wouldn't be a bad way to lull them into a false sense of security if the plans to make dinner out of them were still on). After the food, there's dancing and singing, and though "Yub Nub" leaves something to be desired, it's a fun night.

The Ewoks are getting into something like ghost stories when Luke excuses himself, his expression growing a little more sorrowful once more. He's going to Vader's pyre again, she realizes, and the thought of the man who was--technically speaking--their father gives her pause.

She glances over at Han in the firelight, his blue eyes bright as he takes a fourth cup of wine and clinks it against the wooden cup of the Ewok serving him. It's not right to leave him in the dark about this. She loves him, too much to lie to him even by omission about the man who tortured him and had him frozen in carbonite for half a year.

"Han," she murmurs, taking hold of his free hand. Gently, she pulls him toward the edge of the forest, where the shadows grow longer and the music threatens to be overtaken by the soft drone of insects and the whisper of a breeze. "I need to talk to you."