“Chief’s not here, and this is our best option.” Nothing was more sobering than realizing the “best option” was still bad.
She used a locking carabiner to clip her belt to Kier’s. This close she could make out the muscles in his arms, and how they were shaking from the sheer strain of holding himself on such a tenuous perch. His eyes met hers at the sound of the metal clip, and he said, “I should try this on my own.”
“There’s no place to put in a bolt anchor.”
“You shouldn’t have to put yourself at risk for me.”
“Hey, my field generator’s still working, remember? You’re the one on the line here.” She grinned at him, hoping he wouldn’t think about the fact that in a fall as precarious as the one below them, there was a chance her generator would also be damaged before the emergency activation.
Either he had thought about it, or he’d picked up on her nervousness. But he didn’t argue, only steadied himself as best he could as she slung one arm around him. They pressed together tightly, enough that she could feel his heartbeat hard and fast against her own chest. He said only, “Out and over?”
“On three. Count it off for us.”
As soon as she said that, Leia felt…centered, in a way she hadn’t before. Her nervousness fell away, and she took a deep breath. It wasn’t just an inhalation; it felt as though she were taking in the scents, the moisture, becoming part of the planet itself.
Kier asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Leia was surprised at how much she meant it. “I have a good feeling about this.”
“Okay. One.”
She shut her eyes, breathed in again. It seemed to her she could feel the shape and dimension of the rock around them, that she knew the location of every spar and outcropping as automatically as if they were a part of her.
“Two.”
Instinct told her to connect to what she was feeling, to make herself a part of it—no, to know that she was a part of it, because of course she’d been a part of this planet all along—
“Three.”
Leia leapt at the exact moment Kier did, her limbs flooded with strength beyond what she’d thought she possessed. They swung around the outcropping and easily reached the other side. The instant Kier made contact, he shoved in a bolt anchor and clipped himself to it, independently supporting himself so Leia’s rope wouldn’t have to bear all the weight. For a few seconds afterward, they hung there, panting hard, steadying themselves.
“That was one hell of a jump,” he finally said. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know.” Already that odd spell that had fallen over her was broken. The strange vital energy that had so briefly sung to her had gone quiet again.
Together they clambered up to a small plateau where they stopped to rest and regroup. Leia had thought Kier would check his field generator first, but instead he turned to her. “Why did you do that?”
“What? Save your life?”
That didn’t faze him. “Yes. And risk your own.”
“I couldn’t let you fall.”
“You could, and you should, rather than endanger yourself.”
His words made no sense. “Even if you weren’t my…my friend, I would try to save you just like any other citizen of Alderaan. No, like any other being, from anywhere.” Except maybe Palpatine. He was welcome to break his head wide open.
“Will you listen to yourself?” Kier’s hand closed around her arm. “It’s like you think your own life doesn’t belong to you.”
She started to protest, but stopped herself, because the first words that came to mind were, It doesn’t.
Kier leaned closer, speaking with an intensity that sent chills through her body. “Of course you want to do the right thing. Of course you want to serve the people of Alderaan. And yeah, of course you hate the Empire. But you don’t always have to be selfless. You don’t always have to be the one making the sacrifice.”
“You were hanging on by your fingernails! Nobody else is around—”
“And if you’d fallen? What then? Think about what it would’ve done to the people of Alderaan. To your parents.”
Leia had never considered that. Even as she inwardly quailed at the idea of her mother and father in that much pain, she didn’t think that changed anything. If they’d seen her there, the only individual able to save someone in peril, they would’ve told her to do everything she could regardless of the risk. They were the ones who’d taught her about duty and selflessness in the first place.
Kier took her hand. His skin was as scraped and raw as her own; the touch had to sting for him like it did for her. She wouldn’t have let go for anything.
“You keep trying to take the whole galaxy onto your shoulders.” His words were almost a whisper, and she bent toward him to hear. “If you’re like that when you’re just a princess, what happens when you’re queen?”
“I serve my people.” The response was automatic.
“You deserve to have your own life. You deserve to have someone who puts you first.”
“Maybe.” They were so close now Leia could feel his breath against her cheek. “Do I have somebody like that already?”
Kier tilted his head, studying her expression. At least, she thought he was. At the moment it was hard to look anywhere but his lips. “Yeah. You do.”
His other hand cupped the side of her face, but Leia was the one who leaned in for a kiss.
It wasn’t like she had tons of experience, but the kiss seemed like a good one to her. Great, even. Possibly even spectacular. Then Kier kissed her again, and she realized it could get even better, more than she’d ever dreamed.
They were the last team to the rendezvous point, which earned them a scolding from Chief Pangie before they told her what had happened. One look at Kier’s damaged field generator changed her attitude so completely that she was soon promising to find them an easier hike next time. This earned them a huge grin from Chassellon as they rode back to their ship, plus a friendly tail rattle from Sssamm. But Leia couldn’t pay much attention to any of them, not even to Amilyn’s knowing glance, as she and Kier sat side by side, shoulders and knees touching, his smile matching her own.
Leia had wanted to learn so much during her challenges, but new lessons kept presenting themselves—unexpected ones, on things she’d never guessed she’d need to know.
For instance, she was now learning that the impatience you felt before kissing someone you liked wasn’t nearly as bad as the impatience you felt afterward.
“Concentrate,” Kier murmured as they stood in the center of the target dome. He sounded very severe, which was ironic given that he was the one who kept brushing his hand along her back.