Chapter 5: Dress Uniform
That’s it? Leia thought in dismay as she examined the tiny bit of metal and material that passed for a slave girl’s costume at Jabba’s Palace. Where’s the rest of it?
The costume that Jabba preferred his dancing girls to wear had a lot to be desired, most notably that this was the first outfit Leia had ever worn that needed to be glued on.
Leia turned left in front of the mirror in the dress room at Jabba’s Palace, then right, trying to discern if any part of her natural amenities were immodestly hanging out. She only saw that there was less to this costume than she had first realized.
“It looks perfect,” the dressing aid said, fending off the boredom that typically set in at having to accustom the new girls to this particular costume. Nobody liked it… except Jabba. And Jabba got what Jabba liked. “How does it feel?”
Leia looked at her image in the mirror at the costume-that-wasn’t and decided that it was a good thing Han couldn’t see her in this. He wouldn’t like the fact that it enticed others to look at what he had the most right to notice. “The boots are nice.”
The aid smirked. “Honey, trust me, nobody’s going to be looking at your boots.”
“Better that than… other things.” Flushing in embarrassment, Leia hastily pulled her braid over her shoulder to cover her blush, but in reality used the abrupt movement to surreptitiously take in the layout of the room. She didn’t know what might be useful for Luke to know later when he rescued Han… as he was going to have to do, since her ruse as a bounty hunter had failed to get Han out of Jabba’s Palace.
On the subject of the bounty hunter, she hoped that Chewie and Han were doing all right in the dungeons. Most of her concern right now was admittedly for Han. He had just enough confidence in even his blind prowess that she felt the need to worry about him doing something rash. At the same time, she knew that Chewie would take care of him.
Luke would set things right when he got here. All she had to do was wait for him to come. In the meantime, she had to prepare herself to help him as best she could. Gathering intel of even the dress room was the least she could do.
Leia turned to see her profile in the mirror just in time for a sudden knock on the door to interrupt her perusal of herself and the room. The aid called, “Yes?”
The guard Tamtel, aka Lando, opened the door, eyes cast discreetly onto the ground. “Are you ready, Princess… uh, Queen… uh, ma’am…” A small wince showed him to be internally yelling at himself for his near blunder.
“Call me Leia,” she replied with a sharp glance in the direction of her companion. Fortunately, the aid was busy making certain the outfit hung just right on Leia and hadn’t noticed Lando’s slip.
Lando continued speaking to Leia. “Jabba’s asking for you. Come with me, and I’ll take you back to the main audience chamber.” He wrapped a rough hand around Leia’s arm to give her a yank towards the door. The purple lower half of the slave costume billowed in their wake, leaving little to the imagination, and leaving Lando disgusted anew at Jabba’s willingness to treat his slaves with such depravity.
But he mustn’t show such disgust, even though it was the Princess’ modesty in question this time. To show it would be a death warrant. After all, the aid was still watching them.
Collecting his wits just as the door lifted open, Lando looked down and swiftly said, “Nice boots.”