He Made My Bed (PG)

By : Gabri_Jade; Lady Padme

Archived on: Monday, September 29, 2003

Two favorite couples of Star Wars: Luke/Mara and Han/Leia and a unique perspective on romance.


He made my bed.

For once in my life, I'm utterly speechless. Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight, made my bed and fell asleep in my chair, and I really have no idea what to make of it.

I'd expected him to meet me when I landed - I don't know why. Maybe because we've saved each other's lives a few times. Maybe because he's the closest thing I've ever had to a friend. Just because I'm here at his academy, at his request, I suppose that's no reason for him to trouble himself to walk outside and say hello when I land. At least now I know where he was instead.

What I still don't know is why.

I mean, I can see why he fell asleep; that's no mystery of the ages. He works too hard. He's too young, honestly, for all the burdens that he takes upon himself. One twenty-seven-year-old Jedi, barely trained himself, to rebuild the entire Order -- and of course he takes it seriously. It's not a wonder he was tired. I understand that. It's this bed thing I don't understand.

I should wake him up, tell him to get his Jedi rear out of my room, chew him out for not meeting me. That's what he'd expect; Mara Jade, hardened, sarcastic assassin turned smuggler.

Except that if I woke him up now, I wouldn't be the Mara that he expects. I'd slip. I'd tell him how sweet I think it is that he took the time to do this for me, to prepare my room himself. And what would be the point of that? He'd only smile at me -- that impossibly innocent, genuine smile; and his blue eyes would shine...

Sweet Force, what am I thinking? I have to get out of here. I'll take a walk. A nice, long, solitary walk. Maybe get in some lightsaber practice against all these overgrown trees and vines; maybe work off some tension. Not that I'm actually tense, mind you. Nothing to be tense about. Nothing at all.

But if he wakes up and sees my bags, he'll be hurt that I didn't wake him up to say hello; I know he will. But if I do wake him up, I'll say things I shouldn't. Things I'm not ready to say. Things he probably wouldn't want to hear from me anyway. Easier for him to get over the first scenario than for either of us to get over the second.

I shouldn't have come.

I could have come up with some excuse. Any excuse. Why didn't I? I already know how to use my Force abilities as well as I need to. He taught me quite a lot before I left Coruscant, and the Emperor taught me before him. Light and dark, that's me. More dark than light, I'd say. Luke would argue about that, of course. We always argue. It's fun, almost. In a way. I've missed that - like I've missed our lightsaber duels. Like I've missed his farmboy optimism to temper my cynicism. Like I've missed him.

I knew I shouldn't have come.

A walk is the best thing. Put some distance between us. I'll see him later, when I've mended my shell, reinforced my barriers. If I skip this whole friendly first encounter, maybe he'll have slipped into his teacher mode by the time I do see him. I can handle that.

I set my bags down quietly and look around. He did a nice job. The room is small, but tidy and welcoming. I like it. And I can handle his academy, and his teaching, and my fellow students. I can handle anything. I look again at my almost-friend, sleeping in my chair, blond hair tousled.

Well, almost anything.

Yes, I'll take a very long walk, and I won't spare a thought for the man who made my bed.

Not a single one.

Lady Padme

Day 1


He made my bed.

That's right. He made my bed.

We had a bet-and of course, I won.

Han gets me so riled up sometimes. I mean, I work hard for a good cause; just because I thought it was important that I finish my report on snowspeeder acquisitions instead of joining in the victory party after we won the skirmish on Galandrooine, does that make me a complete bore? Does that mean I can't have a good time? So what if I didn't want to have a drink? I couldn't believe Han would accuse me of being afraid of getting drunk. What makes him think I can't hold down a drink? Or perhaps five?

That was the bet we'd made. Five shots of Whyren's Reserve and I still had to be standing. If I could make it, he'd have to make my bed for a week.

As if there was ever a task I could not undertake. Me. Leia Organa. Princess of the Royal House of Alderaan. Senate Representative of the Sovereign System of Alderaan. Leader of the Rebel Alliance. I'm equal to any challenge!

So, now, I'm standing over the bed that Han just made for me.

He's done a pretty good job. The corners are tight and I'll bet you could bounce a coin off the top. Of course, I remember that Han went to the Naval Academy, once. It's just hard to picture. Han in a military academy-not that he wouldn't look fabulous in a uniform with his scruffy hair slicked down, and-what the hell am I thinking? But anyhow, I mean, can you picture Han taking orders without a smart comment coming out of his mouth every two minutes?

Anyway, this is just great! He's made my bed, and he'll have to make it every night for the next four nights as well. Five days total. A standard week. I can just watch this and gloat. I can just?


I made her bed.

And now she's passed out on it.

I mean she is down for the count.

Just five shots of whiskey was all it took. Hell, when I got kicked out of the Navy, I'd have five just to start the day.

But then, she's only a tiny thing. An adorable, tiny thing. An adorable, tiny thing who's? snoring!

By the Minions of Xendor, she's snoring!

It's kind of cute, actually.

And damn it, I can't tell anyone about it.

I could tell Chewie, I guess, but lately, he's been giving me these annoying looks whenever I say anything about Leia-and I don't know what his problem is.

As for Leia, I'm sure if she knew I stood here and watched her snore she'd take the skin off my back with that sharp tongue of hers.

But just thinking of how I can tease her about this is worth five nights of her gloating at me, thinking that she's won when I could tell she was drunk before she'd finished her second glass.

I'll just cover her up here-it's kind of cold on Echo Base.

She's really funny when she's not sober.

Day 2


He made my bed.

I'm going to really enjoy gloating over this.

Actually, I don't think I was too bad about it. I barely held this over his head at all when he came in to make my bed today. It might be the hangover. My head was hurting so bad this morning that I thought I was going to rip all the wires out of Threepio when he walked in and shouted, "Good morning, Mistress Leia!" at me.

All things considered, I think I was pretty nice to him. I didn't make a big deal out of it. I only sent him a memo reminding him that he owed me a made bed. Okay, and I also told him to be sure the corners were tucked in tightly. Not too bad, really. I hardly gloated at all.


I made her bed.

Now I want to strangle her on it.

I can't believe how much that woman can gloat.

Especially considering that I practically let her win. I mean, really, she was so tipsy last night you could have made her fall over if you breathed on her too hard. She was singing the Alderaanian planetary anthem when I made her bed last night. Do you hear that? She was singing! And out of tune!

And now, she's been reminding me every five minutes of how I lost the bet. I can't believe she sent me a memo on this!

Convenient how her mind works. It forgot everything else except how to make me cringe.

Okay, I admit it wasn't very nice of me to tell Threepio to go in there and greet her this morning, but she doesn't know I did that.

And now she's telling me to make sure I get the corners tight!

I don't think I can take this for another three days.

Day 3


I made her bed.

I don't know what I was thinking-how could I have failed to notice that she has a double bed?

Why does she get that enormous double bed when the rest of us have those military-issue beds that are so small my feet hang over the edge? And look at that kapui-duck down comforter-and those huge fluffy pillows she has! It's so unfair!

And she's still gloating at me!

Oh, do I have an idea?


He made my bed.

Then he suggested he share it!

That scoundrel! He was giving me that wicked grin-and I swear I could have slugged him.

Can you believe that? He tucked in the last corner and said, "You know, that bed looks big enough for two, Your Worship."

"Two of what?" I asked. I could hardly believe my ears.

"The two of us," he said. And he actually sat down when he said it. And he patted the cover!

I got right back at him, though. The delusional nerf-herder.

"I doubt that, Captain Solo. It's not big enough for both you and your swollen head."

But did that wipe the evil grin off his face? What does it take to get through his thick hide? He said, "This bed feels reeeally comfortable, Princess. Come on, take pity on a poor guy-you could lull me to sleep with your melodic snoring."

If I'd ever wanted to kill him before, it was nothing compared to how I felt just then.

"I do not snore!" I was never so indignant in my life.

And he just gave me that grin again.

"How could you possibly know anything about that?"

"Sweetheart, you gave me such a lovely demonstration the other night-"

"You breathe a word of this, Solo, and I swear I'll make sure you're assigned to haul trash faster than you can say Millennium Falcon!"

And he just laughed! "You don't know what you're giving up tonight, Your Worship."

If he hadn't left just then I would have burst a blood vessel.

How the hell am I going to go to sleep now?

Day 4


I made her bed.

And now I need to take a cold shower.

I said once that I was going to shoot her.

I'll shoot anyone who dares to say I'm starting to like her.


He made my bed.

I must be a glutton for punishment. I can't believe I let him anywhere near this room. Do you know what he said to me in the mess hall while I was trying to finish breakfast?

"What time should I report for bed duties, Your Worship?"

I thought I was going to sink through the floor. The whole mess hall must have looked at us.

When he showed up later, I had just finished going through a stack of data discs that Mon Mothma had given me. It had taken me ten discs of documents to regain my equilibrium.

When I opened the door to let him in, for a second I thought I detected some hesitancy on his face as he stood there at the doorway. As if he should be the one who would feel reluctant! After embarrassing me in front of the entire Rebel Alliance!

I thought I could get through this by leaving the room until he was finished, but as I was leaving he said, "Coward."

No one, and I mean no one calls me that.

I crossed my arms over my chest. I was furious. I came back into the room. "Get this over with!"

"Are you sure you want me to rush this?" he asked as he started straightening out the covers. "It might not be as pleasurable as it would be if I took my time."

"I could think of a lot of better ways to have a good time, Captain!"

"Ahh?so could I, sweetheart." I had no idea anyone could fluff pillows as suggestively as he did just then.

"That would never happen, I can assure you, Captain."

"Oh, really?" When he said that, he turned and stood so close to me I could smell his cologne. I suddenly couldn't stop trembling. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep from collapsing in front of him. He was so-close! So-intolerable! So?handsome?

"Not if you were the last sentient in the galaxy. I'd rather be chained to a Hutt wearing a metal bikini." I stood my ground, even though I wanted to flee to the other side of the room.

"There's no accounting for tastes, sweetheart," he said as he turned back to tuck in the blankets. And worse, he was still grinning as he said that.

"I assure you, I have impeccable taste in men. I happen to like nice men."

"You mean weaklings you can boss around."

"I mean nice men! Not laser-brained nerf-herding scoundrels! But then, almost anyone would be better than you!"

"I definitely did not get enough reward money for this."

He finished making my bed then. It's a good thing, or I don't know what I would have done.

Day 5


I made her bed.

I'm never betting against her again.

Being in that tiny room with her, and having her so close-making her bed of all things! And knowing that I certainly wouldn't be using it. Why did I think this would be fun? Did I actually think she was a tiny, adorable thing when we made that bet? Maybe I was really drunker that night than I thought.

Did she really mean it when she said that anyone else would be better than me? The thought of anyone else sharing that bed with her makes me?damn it!

I don't even think I'll ever be able to make a bed again.

Or sleep again.


He made my bed.

It was the last night of our bet.

He was so quiet when he came in; I hadn't seen him all day, and when he did come, it just hit me like a physical blow. I never realized how small my bedroom was until this week, when I stood next to him, watching him make my bed night after night. I looked at the two pillows he fluffed up side-by-side, and thought about how I would only use one of them. I thought of how I would lie in that bed by myself.

I can't even believe I contemplated these thoughts.

All right. In my secret mind, I have to admit that I have contemplated these thoughts. I've thought of Han. I've wondered what his lips would feel like against my own. I've wondered how it would feel to be held in those arms?to feel those work-roughened hands on me.

He was teasing me when he offered to share the bed.

But, I wanted it.

Why lie to myself? I really wanted it. I've wanted him since the day I met him on the Death Star.

Damn my pride. He's left already.

He made my bed.

And now I'll have to lie in it.

Original cover by Cosmic. HTML formatting copyright 2003 TheForce.Net LLC.