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I know I posted this somewhere under a different title. I'm just not sure where. Anyway, I kind of like it.
Title: Unvoiced
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Han/Leia (Dark!Leia)
Rating: Oh...somewhere around PG-13.
Disclaimer: Poor George Lucas. If he only knew what we were doing with his toys when we borrowed them.
Notes: I wrote this in part to answer the question: What could make Leia turn to the dark side? and partly to see if I could find out why Han would stay.
Title: Unvoiced
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Han/Leia (Dark!Leia)
Rating: Oh...somewhere around PG-13.
Disclaimer: Poor George Lucas. If he only knew what we were doing with his toys when we borrowed them.
Notes: I wrote this in part to answer the question: What could make Leia turn to the dark side? and partly to see if I could find out why Han would stay.
Han wasn’t force-sensitive, but even he felt the staggering weight of the dark side gathered around his wife as she entered their chambers that night. Or maybe he was just projecting all the little nuances he saw subconsciously—the narrowed eyes, the wrinkles where age dictated there be none, the slight bent of her fingers, the imperial straightness of her back—into some sort of mystical presence.
It was a sign, and a bad one, he knew, that she didn’t even stop to sigh or unwind or throw something against the wall. She just came straight toward him and settled into him as if she could draw everything she needed from his soul.
Han wondered who she had killed today.
He didn’t ask her any questions, knowing they would only make her angry. He watched her dig herself in deeper, becoming more and more the thing she hated most, which only served to make her more a slave to her position and power. He held her tightly against him, hoping for a way out.
Finally she sighed and raised her head from his chest.
“Senator Delelo from Gheena was found guilty of treason today. The Republic,” he watched her mouth twist sardonically at the title supposed to mean the gathered Senate but which most often referred to her personally, “voted to have her executed and Gheena placed under military law.”
Leia got up and paced around the room. “She was selling her own people as slaves and setting up a base of power in direct opposition to the Republic.” This time she meant, or thought she meant, the legitimate government. “I had no choice.” She paused. “No choice.” She strode over to the window, armored against any manner of attack they could think of and gazed out over the city.
Seeing her stand before the dark sky made him think about the beginning of all this. They had arrived at the throne room on a hunch. She cried out at the scene before them: Vader and Palpatine standing over Luke, Palpatine torturing Luke to death with force-lightning. Before Han knew what was happening she had a lightsaber in her hand and killed Palpatine, cleanly severing his head. She moved toward Vader, but Luke shouted at her to stop, got up on his knees, dove in front of the father-monster and her blade. It met no resistance and burned through his body and through the black armored man behind him.
It actually took her a moment to realize what had happened. Han saw the light in her eyes die as Luke and Vader fell over, crumpling together at her feet.
“What am I doing?” she whispered. At her words, Han focused on her again. She was hunched at the window, every line of her body screaming her guilt and remorse. He knew this clarity was only temporary. It was sincere, but short-lived.
And two seconds later he was facing a goddess, eyes blazing, absolutely certain it was her people who were failing her.
“They don’t understand! They expect everything of me, and fail to give me what I need, what I deserve.”
If Han had been told, years before, that the feisty, world-wise, idealistic princess would turn out into a cold, harsh dealer of absolutes, he would have laughed and told the speaker to check himself into an institution where he could be treated for paranoia.
He stood, finally, having gathered himself together as much as possible, and crossed the room. He took her hands in his and kissed them, knowing the time for arguments was past, that she wouldn’t hear him now, might even kill him for telling her the truth. He hoped some part of her still heard the words he couldn’t say out loud.
He picked her up and carried her to their bed. He lay her down and cradled her in his arms.
“I love you.”
“I know."
It was a sign, and a bad one, he knew, that she didn’t even stop to sigh or unwind or throw something against the wall. She just came straight toward him and settled into him as if she could draw everything she needed from his soul.
Han wondered who she had killed today.
He didn’t ask her any questions, knowing they would only make her angry. He watched her dig herself in deeper, becoming more and more the thing she hated most, which only served to make her more a slave to her position and power. He held her tightly against him, hoping for a way out.
Finally she sighed and raised her head from his chest.
“Senator Delelo from Gheena was found guilty of treason today. The Republic,” he watched her mouth twist sardonically at the title supposed to mean the gathered Senate but which most often referred to her personally, “voted to have her executed and Gheena placed under military law.”
Leia got up and paced around the room. “She was selling her own people as slaves and setting up a base of power in direct opposition to the Republic.” This time she meant, or thought she meant, the legitimate government. “I had no choice.” She paused. “No choice.” She strode over to the window, armored against any manner of attack they could think of and gazed out over the city.
Seeing her stand before the dark sky made him think about the beginning of all this. They had arrived at the throne room on a hunch. She cried out at the scene before them: Vader and Palpatine standing over Luke, Palpatine torturing Luke to death with force-lightning. Before Han knew what was happening she had a lightsaber in her hand and killed Palpatine, cleanly severing his head. She moved toward Vader, but Luke shouted at her to stop, got up on his knees, dove in front of the father-monster and her blade. It met no resistance and burned through his body and through the black armored man behind him.
It actually took her a moment to realize what had happened. Han saw the light in her eyes die as Luke and Vader fell over, crumpling together at her feet.
“What am I doing?” she whispered. At her words, Han focused on her again. She was hunched at the window, every line of her body screaming her guilt and remorse. He knew this clarity was only temporary. It was sincere, but short-lived.
And two seconds later he was facing a goddess, eyes blazing, absolutely certain it was her people who were failing her.
“They don’t understand! They expect everything of me, and fail to give me what I need, what I deserve.”
If Han had been told, years before, that the feisty, world-wise, idealistic princess would turn out into a cold, harsh dealer of absolutes, he would have laughed and told the speaker to check himself into an institution where he could be treated for paranoia.
He stood, finally, having gathered himself together as much as possible, and crossed the room. He took her hands in his and kissed them, knowing the time for arguments was past, that she wouldn’t hear him now, might even kill him for telling her the truth. He hoped some part of her still heard the words he couldn’t say out loud.
He picked her up and carried her to their bed. He lay her down and cradled her in his arms.
“I love you.”
“I know."
