Warnings: Well, *they* don't know it's incest.
Leia stared at the meal in front of her. She wasn't sure
anything could get past the huge lump blocking her throat,
threatening her control at every breath.
She sipped the pale green wine, and found it helped.
"Leia? You aren't eating." The concern was almost touching,
would have been touching had not her dinner partner's
father destroyed her whole world that morning.
That wasn't fair, she realized. Luke wasn't his father,
couldn't help who his father was. Hadn't he said he'd
have faced down the Emperor and Tarkin to spare her
that demonstration if he'd known? She looked at him,
dressed in a soft grey shirt, so different from
the formal black he usually wore. He looked
so very young, no older than she was.
Oh, Luke, why aren't you one of ours? she mourned silently,
visualizing him in a flightsuit.
He refrained from smiling as he caught the tenor of her thought.
She didn't know much about the healing bond, thinking it
only gave him access to her strong emotions.
"Please, I don't think I can."
"Alderaan," he said softly. He rose, and offered her a hand.
"Let me help."
"I want to remember, to hate." She took his hand and stood up.
"You will. The pain will transmute into power
instead of crippling you as it does now." This was too easy.
Her
aura was already streaked with the darkness.
The Death Star had few amenities, even in the officers' quarters,
and there was no sitting area. He led her to sit facing him on
the edge of
the large bed. Softly, he placed his fingertips on her
temples, cupping her face in his hands.
With any other man, Leia would have expected the prelude to a kiss,
but all Luke did was shut his eyes and match his breathing to hers.
She shut her eyes too, and relaxed, merely waiting, open,
but cautious. She was very aware of him inside her mind as well
as outside of it. Somehow, he felt right, like he should be
there, like he was the last piece of mental furniture needed to
complete her.
She wasn't sure just what he did, but Alderaan seemed to fade.
The pain of losing it was there, and the hate for the
Emperor that had been just Senatorial politics and idealism
deepened into something much more personal. But she could think
clearly
again, and the anger burned through her like a purifying,
galvanizing flame.
She knew what she wanted and how to get it. She would have
reparation for her world, and vengeance for herself. With Luke's
help, she could have anything.
Her eyes snapped open, and he was smiling at her.
"Better, my darling?" Her aura was no longer a soft pale blue
as it had been, but deep royal, with streaks of midnight.
She was beautiful.
Darling. His Darling. She liked the sound of that. "Much."
What she could not know was that her soul was inexorably
bound to him now. She was his. She was so aware, so
busy guarding her deep thoughts about the Rebellion and
its safety, that she had forgotten to shield her feelings and spirit.
He leaned in closer, and she met him halfway. Her lips were soft
and
warm under his. He slid into her mouth slow and smoothly,
savoring the taste of her, as his arms went around her.
"Stay with me tonight," she whispered. "I can feel
the dreams hovering and waiting to take me. Be my hero."
"Of course, dear Leia." Luke kicked off the low soft boots he
wore
and stretched out on the bed. She lay beside him, pillowing her
head on his chest, the grey ver-cloth soft on her cheek. He
wrapped her in his arms, and she felt safe for the first time
in years. The small voice of rationality screamed at her
that she was in the arms of her enemy's son and aboard the
deadliest battle-station ever built, but the voice was squelched
by the darkness that devoured her.
Her breathing evened into slow regularity. Luke smiled as she
slept, exhausted.
He watched as she slipped into rapid eye movement, and insinuated himself
into her dreams. He was already there, and only needed a few
nudges to
be making love to her. She was passionate in her dream, and inventive.
He made himself everything she wanted, taking her into ecstacy time
and
again, pushing her beyond the boundaries of her waking body.
Mission accomplished, he slept.
Luke awoke in the middle of the night to soft kisses on his cheek.
He opened one eye to see a mischievous smile.
"Hey, hero." She kissed him full on the lips, rather vigorously.
"No bad dreams?"
"On the contrary. Very nice ones, thanks to you. Want to
help
me make them come true?"
"You sure?"
"I may regret it in the morning, but I will be dead
by this time tomorrow, so why not?"
"As her Highness orders," he teased, and kissed her back.
"On one condition."
"What?"
"Take down your hair."
She smiled, and reached up to unpin the coil at the side of her head.
The heavy lock spiraled down her body, a whisper of chocolate silk.
She undid the other and combed her spread fingers through them.
The heavy mass of her hair fell to her knees, half cloaking her.
Luke reached up and opened the senatorial gown, helping her out of
it, until she stood robed only in her own hair.
"Beautiful. You are so beautiful," he whispered reverently.
His hands
slid over the cool ivory skin, tracing her petite curves. He
brushed
his thumbs over her collarbones before slipping down to palm her breasts.
She smiled and pushed her shoulders back to give him more. His
hands
on her waist pulled her to kneel on the bed beside him. Two fingers
did
a gentle and cursory exploration of the soft satin barely hidden by
a triangle of dark hair.
She dropped lower to kiss him and he pulled her close. She smoothed
away his shirt and
opened his trousers. The small hand was far more delicate than
what he was used to.
"Lie down, lovely," he said softly. He rolled up over her, and
kissed
her at length, learning all the nuances of her mouth. It felt
so perfect,
like she was exactly what he needed to be complete, a part he wasn't
even
aware he was missing until he found it.
She gasped as his kisses worked their way down her throat, lingering,
and tormenting her with intensity. When he reached her breasts
after many minutes, she was almost whimpering. He indulged himself,
one feather-light finger teasing lower, until her rapid breaths dissolved
into
a silent shout.
He continued, the soft skin of her belly, the smoothness of
her hipbones disclosing their secrets to his vigilant exploration.
He parted her legs and licked the soft skin of the inner thighs
raising goosebumps and working his way slowly back up.
She shuddered at the first touch of his tongue between her legs, pushing him away.
"No. That's repulsive."
"Shh. Let me show you. You're not repulsive. You're
beautiful
here too, all pink and soft. Just let me kiss you."
She didn't push him away again and he took it as encouragement.
Very gently, he demonstrated
all the skills Arnowa had taught him, and found Leia far
more sensitive than the Askjian. She was nearly weeping when
he tapered to a stop. He moved slowly up to kiss her again,
and she turned away from him.
"You taste so good, Princess. Kiss me and see." She couldn't
disobey
for some reason.
Hesitantly, she kissed him, getting the first salty metallic taste of
herself on her lips. She kissed deeper, curious, not sure she
liked it, but
not hating the taste. Luke sent the barest touch along the bond,
forging
another bit of it into steel. She plunged into his mouth wantonly,
having decided she liked it very well. Her tongue flashed over
his
lips, and delved into the dimple of his chin seeking out all of
her own flavor.
He pulled back. "Are you ready, sweet one?" He rubbed gently
at the entrance of her body as his hands went around her back to press
her
even closer.
"Yes."
He entered her, just barely, and paused, letting her feel him.
She moved a little, signalling him for more. He thrust to
the hilt. She sighed.
"You should have said you were a virgin."
"And died that way? No, my love."
The words fired him, telling him his corruption had been a great success.
He moved within her, pacing himself. Once, Arnowa had timed him,
and he knew he could last almost an hour if he was careful.
But Leia wouldn't last that long, so he followed her lead.
After the third orgasm, when she was showing signs of
flagging, he took it upon himself to finish.
"My beautiful princess," he whispered softly as she curled into him.
"You will not die. If I have to take Tarkin apart, I will do
it to
save your life."
"My hero." She pillowed her head on his chest, and ran delicate
fingers over the smooth skin. He stroked the long chestnut hair
that draped over both of them.
"Sleep now. We have a few hours left before I go on duty."
He kissed her once more, and sent her to sleep with a twitch of the
bond.
He held her until he had to leave, and slipped out without waking her,
knowing he would be back in this bed tonight.