Ewok wine is actually pretty good. Who'd have thought? He was dubious about the first cup they pressed into his hand, but a party's a party and they've got a lot to celebrate, and a lot of lost friends to honor. By the third cup he's even managing not to be annoyed by the fuzzy, rowdy little creatures crowding around him, dancing and singing, dragging Rebel pilots into their swaying circles, playing gruesome drums-- though with any luck there aren't any heads left in those helmets.

Every time Leia comes into sight he smiles at her, bright and easy now that he doesn't have to worry about the inevitable eventuality that she'll leave him. This time-- well, he grins like an idiot as she comes up, but something about the urgency in her low tone pulls him out of his festive mood as they draw away from the dancing.

"What is it?"

(She can't have changed her mind, there isn't anyone else, right?)