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Grand Moff Tarkin
Admiral Piett Captain Needa General Veers Moff Jerjerrod Grand Admiral Thrawn Admiral Pellaeon Guard and Troopers Various Imperial |
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White CoralNC-17, for adults only! by Catriona Snapenote: I sincerely don't know where this fic came from. I hope you'll enjoy this, though. That's an AU focusing on Leia/Admiral Piett romance, through Leia's point-of-view. It also kind of deepen the relationship between Leia and her fathers (note-in-the-note: I chose not to make heavy difference into the words Leia's using for indicating Bail and Lord Vader- even if it means some passages are a bit hazy; she, IMHO, sees the both of them as over-authoritative figures in her life). Warning: I wrote this after two days of no-stop listening to The Coral's The Coral album (Wild Fire's mood).
I once knew you, said the man, trying to make out the expression on the young woman’s face in the darkness. I once knew you, and I want you still, and I’m not sure my reason has some part in this desire, my lady, because I couldn’t even tell your name, or name your parents. Which parents? said the girl, and he watched the path of the tears cooling down on her skin- he thought they were beautiful, perfect, even if they were tears. I’m blind, said the man, and you’re the sun.
Life goes on, true, but I can’t be so quick into forgetting Han, I think in the hot air of the bathroom. I do, still there’s something well disturbing, in the way I’m thinking about his all too serious face and his words. If I didn’t know better- if I didn’t know how would my father react to a little tryst (such would be his words, I’m sure)- I would have said something else. Some kind of spoken answer, instead of the natural reaction Youth dictated to my mouth, soiling the promises I’ve made to him mere months ago. What it’s done, it’s done- and I can’t really change. Even if I wanted to.
I’m not the princess captive in her own high tower, said the girl’s
voice smothering the precarious silence between the two of them. I’m not a
princess anymore, and I don’t care. Why do you keep on coming here at night?
Why do you keep on coming to me, anyway? His eyes drifted to the tense lights of
the city outside. Answer me! Are you just trying to have some fun with me, man,
for a little hour of fun at my own expenses- only to go down to your men’s
quarters and tell your friends? He spun on his heels as the girl lifted her
hand, motioning his silence. Do I really want to know?
And
I can’t even rightfully call myself his prisoner. So, he’s my father. The
first thing I was able to think after seconds of frantic struggle for breath was
something about marriage, like “the least he can do is not marrying me off
like some kind of token”. I know how things works- how worked for me too,
before the Rebellion, before Han. A useful pawn for my father’s political
games. Useful- I wasn’t some silly girl just out her finishing school. A
functional bride for politicians I could bring on our side this way, he
explained me. Useful, gracious, little token...
His hands were pleasure, she thought, not possessive nor shy, just wondering in their touch, drifting where she wanted them to be. The young woman eyed the man with precise gaze, her voice hazy thought their tentative fumbling. I don’t even know your name, she said, I don’t want to. Do not spoil the moment. We both know... He nipped her skin lightly, like one would do with frosty delicacies and all too sweet wine sipped to graze the lips and the tongue against its taste. We know nothing. We can’t, it would be an offence to whatever we’re doing. Do not lie to me, she said to drown him in the moment, to chase away everything else. It happened.
I
find myself in the bright lights of the room he gave me, trying to forget about
the silhouette abandoned in the night my mind is picturing at obsessive rate
with the blinding shine I set up. I’m blind, and you’re the sun...
Why are you outside,
Admiral, she said for him. I couldn’t search for you, my lady, the man said,
his back stiff at her formal addressing, his gaze turning cold. I understand
that if we can’t... I couldn’t, she said. She came from the room inside, her
stance majestic. I’m not a princess, she thought, but I can’t change my
past. Yet you’re here, he mouthed in the night, and she stopped the motions of
his lips with a finger. I will be here, where I want. She felt new, she felt
stronger to his touch as they hesitated an embrace, gazes taking each other’s
expression, weighing renewed sensations with clear mind, the kind of dizzy
precision the thin air of the heights sometimes gives.
disclaimer: I don't own Leia or Piett (sadly, that's the truth!) or Vader, or Bail Organa or Palpatine or Luke or Han. They're all George Lucas'. |
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The fine print (how small can I make this?)... and all the usual disclaimers! No, I'm not making any money. It's just for fun. George, please don't sue me. |
