[Fanfic] Leia (Star Wars)

[anenko]

Star Wars

I'm always on the lookout for good Leia fic (though I'm not interested in the EU/book-verse). If you know of any, feel free to drop me a link in the comments.



untitled, by ladylisse

This is the first time Prince Organa has ever seen her so quiet - but even now, she is not still. He thinks she won't ever be.

"It should've helped," she says when she finally sees him. "I thought it would. Blowing it up, I mean."

untitled, by ladylisse

Even on Alderaan, long-ago and far away, Leia had no time for subtlety. She has always known good and bad as soon as she sees it - sooner, sometimes, like chills crawling down her back - and for all her hard-won poise and pretty words, she is at her best when there is an enemy in front of her and a weapon in her hands, when she knows exactly what she stands for and her feet are on solid ground.

Untitled #1, by voleuse

The princess has some sort of perfume on, he thinks, and it's stinking the ship up like some fancy, royal thing, and he needs to know exactly what he's complaining about before approaching her.

drabble, by yahtzee63

For Han, Leia has learned how to replace the T-11 anx splitters in the Falcon’s hyperdrive. She can shimmy in the narrow service tube better than Han or Chewie, and if it’s claustrophobic and smells like sweat, well, all the more reason for her to learn to do it quickly.

untitled, by liminalliz

There were two Leias she knew she could play. The one she liked, the one that got her up in the morning at a moments notice, into her jumpsuit and her hair up in braids, was the hardened leader shouting out orders and watching the progress of her soldiers in the control room. It was comfortable, challenging and made her feel worthy of the moments when her other self emerged: The princess, finely dressed, elegantly speaking to dignitaries and sitting on fine furniture in expensive clothing.

As Cool As I Am, by rhipowered

To get out of the Embassy, Leia had been attempting to create a disguise--trying to put up her hair, attempting to hide it under a cap and go about as a boy (any idiot knows that it’s much simpler to travel as a male human), but it wouldn’t stay. Nor could she tuck it under clothes; it was summer, after all, and a long plait hanging down her back would be immediately noticeable under a thin shirt. And she certainly could NOT cut it off.

So she did what any intelligent young teenager would do.

She sulked. And a few minutes later, she had an idea.

After The Last War Is Won, by Tenshi

Han wasn't sure he wanted to do that, for in the way Leia stood just so in the broken light he could see part of her that even she hadn't really known, and that Han would never really understand, was being illuminated like the Temple beneath the grime. He supposed that it was only fair for Luke to have something of her as well, and he reasoned, albeit uncomfortably, that as long as he had her heart, he could manage to share a little. Luke was her brother, and it was not like Han had ever understood women completely anyway, much less that one. So if she wound up spouting things about the Force, and talking to walls, and playing with swords like Luke, well that was no biggie. It was as much a mystery to Han Solo how she made her hair do the things it did.

All the same, the stillness of her face and the way she lifted her hands made Han hold his breath until she spotted them in the gloom, and smiled, and was practical sharp Leia Organa once again.

Survivor, by niicoly

Leia opens her eyes eight hours later. Han Solo is staring back down at her, and she's convinced she's in Hell. Solo's face is confused and distant. Healers come in to take her blood pressure and stroke her forehead.

Mothma quietly assigns a therapist to come talk to her. The therapist is a stout woman from Dantooine named Wilara with thin, chapped lips. She seats herself by Leia's bedside. Solo doesn't move until Wilara tells the smuggler to leave them alone.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says, his voice unmoving, and stands in the doorway until Leia looks at him.

Wilara tries to help Leia remember what happened before her accident, as everyone is gently calling it. Leia remembers a nightmare of torture droids and explosions and dead children and her veins being on fire. She remembers waking up and thinking about how easy it would be to erase those memories once and for all.

Sedatives are given, but she still wakes up screaming every time she falls asleep.

The Nature of the Enemy, by jedinemo

She was a warrior.

Though her body lay defeated, her mind had never cracked. Not even when he stood so close that the bottom of her gown brushed the front of his boots as she drew herself up in a defensive ball. Such proximity to him frequently turned other prisoners into weeping, incoherent fools, but not her, even though such closeness might suggest certain outcomes to a female prisoner. The possibility had occurred to her, he knew, based on what he felt emanating from her : wild flashes of fear that sometimes spun into full blown panic. But she transformed her fear into outrage, and bristled back at him so strongly that he thought she might spit at him.

A Thousand Pieces, by HYK

It shouldn't be so pretty.

Father. Mother. Stars screaming. Life scattering into a thousand pieces.

The destruction of an entire planet doesn't have the right to be so stanging pretty, you think. It should be howling and visceral, and full of things that come up from the liver to burn the back of the throat. It should be hideous in a way that makes the memory go numb, never to return, never to haunt, never to remind you that you're utterly alone.

The end of your world shouldn't be so pretty, you think.

Double Twist of Fate or a Melody, by thistlerose

Afterward, sometimes, when they're lying together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers combing the tangles out of the hair that spills across his chest, he'll be half-aware of a kind of gentle thrumming. It's not so much coming from Leia as concentrated around her. It's the Force, Han knows, and the fact that the stuff that supposedly binds everyone and everything in the Galaxy approves of a smuggler in bed with a princess amuses him greatly.

By The Grace Of Lady Vader, by Alderaan21, ami-padme, and FernWithy

Did she even know that she was reason he stayed? She certainly didn't act like it. That woman was more difficult, more frustrating than anyone he had known in his life. He couldn't begin to figure out what was going on in her head half the time, and often wished he could find a way to stop caring. But he couldn't, no matter how she acted. He kept thinking that he could get through to her, make her open up...

It wasn't that he didn't understand what she had been through. Han supposed that the destruction of one's planet would be more than enough to drive most people crazy. But Leia had never been most people. She had kept going at full throttle, a feat that he admired greatly. They eventually became very good friends, another thing he appreciated - he hadn't had a real friend besides Chewie in years. Sure, there were always little sparring matches and disagreements, but he thought they had really started to become close.

And then everything changed. Something was driving her crazy - something she refused to share with anyone.

The Ascension Of The Queen, by ami-padme and FernWithy

Pain was the world, the galaxy, the universe.

There was no focus to it, no particular injury from which it seemed to emanate. Crushed bones, bruised organs, burned skin, torn muscles... all worked together to play a perfectly balanced symphony of agony, agony that filled sleep and waking equally. Any motion, from the blink of an eye to the grasp of a hand, increased the volume until it became a visible thing, a creature of shimmering white that traced the edges of the world in bright haloes.

Leia was glad of it.

Father's Heart, by FernWithy

Leia thought about telling her father about the strange feeling she'd had when Lord Vader had looked at her, as if some insect was buzzing inside her head, darting this way and that, looking for something to feed on. When it had drawn close to her secret memory of the pretty lady with the sad eyes, some instinct in her mind had risen up and swatted it away as effortlessly as if it were a swampfly. She didn't understand how she'd done it, but it hadn't been difficult, and she knew she could do it again. Princess Leia Organa was not afraid of swampflies. So it wasn't exactly a lie when she told her father, "No, it was just the breathing machine."

Estimated Time of Departure, by yahtzee63

Han resolved to be gone a long time before any cockamamie awards ceremony. "See, kid?" He nudged Luke's arm. "You'll get another chance to flirt."

"It's not that." Luke waved over one shoulder as the two of them walked away from Wedge. "Han, think about what happened to her. Her entire world is gone. That has to be - I can't imagine what that's like."

An entire world, lost. Han tried to wrap his mind around it, but couldn't. Though he knew he was from Corellia, he hadn't been raised there and had never thought of it as home. But he figured it was like what Luke had gone through - having a home and then losing it - but times a hundred, or a thousand, or whatever huge number could call up the death of a planet. "Yesterday she acted like none of it ever happened."

Provided the Cuffs and Collars Match, by hradzka

"So, Princess..." Han sat on her desk and leaned back, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles. "Let's talk about the slave outfit."

"The slave outfit," said Leia.

Han grinned.

"The outfit into which I was forced by, fortunately, anatomically incompatible Gamorreans following the orders of a, fortunately, anatomically incompatible Hutt, as part and parcel of the life of slavery to which I was condemned as punishment for trying to save your worthless backside?"

"Er," Han said.

"Yes," said Leia. She looked at him as if he were the reincarnation of Grand Moff Tarkin and he'd forgotten to brush his teeth. "Let's, by all means, discuss that slave outfit."

Inheritance, by ladylisse

"There are shades of gray," Bail says in a quiet voice, as if he were addressing something above and beyond one stubborn five-year-old.

She considers and says, "Not always."

Nothing In-Between, by cooking_spray

All that she knew was that one moment, she was escaping from the gullet of an asteroid-stranded cave worm, still contemplating the possible repercussions of lip-locking with a veritable outlaw who was only supposed to be safely escorting her from the wreckage of a rebel base, and the next she was allowing said outlaw’s hands to feel their way up her shirt. Apparently, the kiss had tapped into a whole wealth of forbidden feelings - and while part of her screamed at her to stop while she still could, another part of her liked the danger of it. Not just because it was terribly wrong on many levels, personal and professional, but because it was something she couldn’t control. She was tired of being in control, of the constant throb in her lower back at the strain of her severe posture, of the ache in her jaw from keeping a straight face. For once, she thought she might let someone else take over, because maybe they knew her better than she thought they did.

Archetype, by Fair-Ithil

It wasn’t love at first sight, not when he saw a credit sign on her back and she saw ‘nerf herder’ written across his forehead, right next to ‘idiot’.

Steel, by agentjedi

Softer than any of the troopers had ever heard him speak before, Vader cooed, "Do you have a name, little one?"

"Leia."

The gentle smirk bled away, leaving Vader's face underneath as cold and steely as the mask that hid it.

Leia.

A Chance Encounter, by VaderLVR64

The sound of his breathing must have finally penetrated her conversation with herself, because she opened one eye to peer up at him.

Instead of the fear that he expected, her only reaction seemed to be curiosity. Who was this masked figure and of what use could he be to her?

Her thoughts were startlingly clear and forceful to Lord Vader. She thought of him with a child’s directness. She had a goal, which was to avoid this particular gathering, and she was contemplating if he would be of any help in achieving that goal. It was simple, at least in her view.

She had opened both eyes now, and Vader found himself examined as carefully as if he was a scientific specimen. She frowned slightly as her gaze traveled ever upward, taking in his lofty height with a bit of awe. She moved her fingers slightly but made sure to keep her grip. She gave her parents a swift glance over her shoulder because they had stepped back as he approached.

The Stone Lilies of Alderaan, by WendyNat

His smile quickly fades when he reaches the sitting room. Immediately upon entering, the sight of his daughter strikes him, tears swimming in her normally calm brown eyes. Benira sits beside her, looking lost, and Bail doesn't blame her - Leia is not a girl known for fits of misery. He can count on one hand the number of times she has cried in the last five years.

"You're home, Bail!" Benira smiles when she notices him in the doorway, her relief evident. "A little earlier than we expected, even." Leia also smiles, though it is unsteady, and her eyes do not lose the brimming tears.

"Hello, Father." Leia's voice is composed, the tone that of one trying to hold their emotions in a tight fist. It is an odd tone for an eleven year old, but Leia has always been more mature than her age implied.

Bond Between The Two, by Kerry

It hurt seeing him this way. So much so, it distracted her from her own pains and worries. “Once you called out to me, yelling that I wouldn't hear you on Bespin, that I wouldn't come. You woke up a little then, but you didn't believe me when I told you we were safe aboard the Falcon. You thought you were still on the weather vane and that Vader would get you after all.” She took a deep breath. “You scared me with that one. You drifted back to sleep before I was sure that I had convinced you. I thought if you didn't believe me, you might... give up.”

“I don't remember that.” He reached for her hand with his, and gave it a squeeze. “I know I'm okay now.”

“Good.” But her smile was weaker this time, and her eyes were haunted like his own.

drabble, by artaxastra

As a young child, he had pretended, going to sleep, that he had another half. In the cold desert night Luke had curled around his blanket, pretending that someone else was there, that someone’s head butted against his chest, that someone’s knees touched his, curled together in mirror image.

Cat In the Cradle, by bwinter

"What kept you up, anyway? Didn't know there was a crisis on."

"There isn't." Leia's hair was down, and it made her face look longer, older. "I really couldn't sleep. Right now I'm reviewing records of the Emperor's rise to power - when we write the Constitution, we should put in safeguards so that it doesn't happen again."

No Time For Our Sorrows, by FernWithy

All business.

Business was all she could afford, and she knew damned well where her father would think her mind should be.

Oh, he'd sympathize, and he wouldn't tell her to hold off her grief forever. He would probably make sure there was a safe spot for her when it was all over, and join her, and hold her and tell her it would be all right.

But business first.

Alderaan first.

Mixology, by Viola

She could use a good drink.

They all could. It wasn’t like she was alone in that. But for Leia especially, it was hard to find the time and space to decompress.

Spoiled, by amberleewriter

Other men might have worried or second-guessed themselves when so many people said the same thing over and over. Not so Bail. Pittens and thrantas were nothing. The Organa stables could always use another pitten to help chase away rodents and the thrantas would come and go as they always had regardless of Leia's wishes to ride them or give them names. The dresses and jewels Bail showered on his daughter were never a matter of satisfying the desires of his little girl. Leia didn't really like them. She preferred playing in the dirt or tinkering with droids, covering herself in oil and grime, to sitting still while someone did her hair and dressed her like a doll for a state function. Bail was willing to concede that he did indulge his daughter's flights of fancy -- that he encouraged her imagination and artistic sensibilities -- but what he did was hardly spoiling. A spoiled child threw fits and was inconsiderate or rude. While Leia, like all children, had gone through a short phase of anger and tantrums Bail had never tolerated such behavior. Leia was given strict rules and limits. She always knew what was considered acceptable and proper and rarely had she ever tried to push the boundaries.

Eighteen and a Thousand Years, by Limelight

“How old are you?”

She asked it as she examined me, briskly. It was an innocent question, the sought after answer a simple fact. A standard thing for a doctor to ask their patient, just another bit of information to go into my chart. If you had happened to glance over the chart, it would seem inconsequential beside the other things written there; things like three broken ribs, ten broken figures, and perhaps one broken hip, although I can’t be completely certain. Not to mention the limitless quantities of nameless drugs that had been pumped into me.

untitled, by smithereen

Caged in the quiet there’s nothing between me and the faces of the dead. Friends, comrades, enemies. They’ve always been there, any time I’ve slowed down long enough to see them. Bloody and smoking, cut apart by lasers or disintegrated in the abyss, the tortured, the missing, the injured and dead.

I knew the costs when I joined the Rebellion.

I thought I knew the costs.

Note: The following fics contain Han/Leia/Luke and/or Leia/Luke; if incest is a squick, don't scroll down any further.

Three Weeks After The End Of The World (And Counting), by penknife

For almost a week it looks like they've gotten clean away. Han makes short hops from system to system, trying to think where it might be safe to stop, not coming up with anything clever. Sooner or later they'll have to stop for supplies, but somehow a couple of pallets intended for a liner ended up on the Falcon when they blasted out of Duro, so they have food enough to last them a while.

Luke and Leia spend their time endlessly trying to decide where they could go that the plague might not have touched and pacing the passenger lounge. Han stays in the cockpit, because they don't know and they can't know, and he can't stand watching people pace. Chewie doesn't say much except to point out that everywhere they go is too quiet, the shipping lanes not showing anything like the kind of traffic they should. Hardly any traffic at all.

Twins, by lindamarie

Luke and Leia were trouble from birth. On opposite sides of the galaxy, they rebelled against the distance, thoughtlessly, unknowing.

Yoda sat close to the warm fireplace, watching the smouldering coals, and the Force flowed through him like a river, scenes from their lives streaming through his mind.

untield, by katemonkey

Places like this were all the same: a lowlife dive in the front, with a well concealed back room. Leia pulled the cowl of her robe closer around her face, not wanting to be here, but the message she received was clear.