kimaracretak (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fiachairecht) wrote2018-04-09 02:33 pm
fiachairecht) wrote2018-04-09 02:33 pm
Entry tags:
rey/leia ficlet dump
The very first non-Rey/Kylo fic TFA made me want to write was a Rey/Leia h/c-lingerie-overstimulation-pretty-things-and-gentleness porn-with-feelings and for years I haven't written it because I could not find the Right(tm) writing music. So I asked people on tumblr to send me 'Rey/Leia' + a song lyric and I would write 500 words of fic for them, both for practice writing shorter things and also to start building up a playlist for them and ... I still haven't written the fic I meant to but I did write other Rey/Leia things (that ... often became Rey/Leia/Amilyn things). They've all been on ao3 for a while, but posting them here too because the librarian brain is throwing a fit about them only being in one place.
Title: i nattens regn og vind
Rating: G
Pairing: Rey/Leia
Prompt: I will watch you in the darkness / show you love will see you through forpoliticalmamaduck / ![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p2.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
politicalmamaduck
Leia finds Rey on the roof, drenched by D'Qar’s summer rains and smiling with a joy that’s been too long absent from her base’s hallways. For the first time since she stepped onto the tarmac a week ago, she looks like she’s managed to forget that the whole of the galaxy is resting on her shoulders, and Leia’s heart twists at the thought of having to remind her.
(Maybe, she thinks, running her fingers over the locator beacon in her pocket, maybe this can also be a reminder that she isn’t alone. That, despite everything, neither of them are.)
“Leia,” Rey says, quiet in the sunset like maybe she can put off the reason for Leia’s visit if she walks round it carefully enough. Leia can feel her in the Force – a wounded, wary thing still, but with such a stubborn, patient hope at the core of her that Leia can’t help but reach out for her. “You’ll get soaked,” Rey says, but she doesn’t entirely lose her smile.
“That’s no bad thing,” Leia answers the unspoken request, and lets Rey envelop her in a hug as soon as she’s within arm’s reach. She fits easily in Rey’s arms – too easily, she thinks sometimes, but now, with the comforting press of Rey’s chek to the top of her head, she can’t feel anything but gratitude at this little space they’ve managed to carve out for each other.
Rey clings just a bit tighter this time, lets go a little more reluctantly. “Come to say goodbye?” she asks.
“Not just yet,” Leia smiles slightly. “Sit with me for a while?”
Rey takes her hand and leads her to the edge of the roof, pulls her down so they can sit with their backs against the safety glass and watch as the raindrops catch glittering in the light, send sparks of coloured light dancing through the early twilight. Rey doesn’t let go of her hand, and the desire to hold on to this moment has Leia tangling her fingers with Rey’s.
“Have you thought about where you’ll go, after?” she asks, when it’s clear Rey isn’t going to say anything. It’s a wild hope, that they’ll all still be here after however long it takes Rey to coax her brother back from whatever exile he’s abandoned her for, but Rey makes her forget that hope ever wavered.
Rey looks down at her curiously. “Well. I’ll come back, of course. With Luke, and then –”
“Rey.” Leia reaches up to cup her cheek with her free hand. “The Falcon’s yours now. You can go anywhere, you deserve more than this.”
Rey’s lips part, and Leia can’t even begin to sort through the emotions in her eyes, eddying around them in the Force, before Rey’s leaned down and is kissing her, soft lips even warmer than the rain, and in that moment it seems impossible to do anything but kiss her back.
“So do you,” she whispers when she pulls back. “So do you, Leia.”
Title: all the colours of the aether
Rating: G
Pairing: Rey/Leia, Leia/Amilyn for like two seconds
Prompt: under flodens askegrene finder jeg min sjæl / skyggerne forstener, lyset slår dem jo ihjel formickleborger
Title: i nattens regn og vind
Rating: G
Pairing: Rey/Leia
Prompt: I will watch you in the darkness / show you love will see you through for
politicalmamaduck / Leia finds Rey on the roof, drenched by D'Qar’s summer rains and smiling with a joy that’s been too long absent from her base’s hallways. For the first time since she stepped onto the tarmac a week ago, she looks like she’s managed to forget that the whole of the galaxy is resting on her shoulders, and Leia’s heart twists at the thought of having to remind her.
(Maybe, she thinks, running her fingers over the locator beacon in her pocket, maybe this can also be a reminder that she isn’t alone. That, despite everything, neither of them are.)
“Leia,” Rey says, quiet in the sunset like maybe she can put off the reason for Leia’s visit if she walks round it carefully enough. Leia can feel her in the Force – a wounded, wary thing still, but with such a stubborn, patient hope at the core of her that Leia can’t help but reach out for her. “You’ll get soaked,” Rey says, but she doesn’t entirely lose her smile.
“That’s no bad thing,” Leia answers the unspoken request, and lets Rey envelop her in a hug as soon as she’s within arm’s reach. She fits easily in Rey’s arms – too easily, she thinks sometimes, but now, with the comforting press of Rey’s chek to the top of her head, she can’t feel anything but gratitude at this little space they’ve managed to carve out for each other.
Rey clings just a bit tighter this time, lets go a little more reluctantly. “Come to say goodbye?” she asks.
“Not just yet,” Leia smiles slightly. “Sit with me for a while?”
Rey takes her hand and leads her to the edge of the roof, pulls her down so they can sit with their backs against the safety glass and watch as the raindrops catch glittering in the light, send sparks of coloured light dancing through the early twilight. Rey doesn’t let go of her hand, and the desire to hold on to this moment has Leia tangling her fingers with Rey’s.
“Have you thought about where you’ll go, after?” she asks, when it’s clear Rey isn’t going to say anything. It’s a wild hope, that they’ll all still be here after however long it takes Rey to coax her brother back from whatever exile he’s abandoned her for, but Rey makes her forget that hope ever wavered.
Rey looks down at her curiously. “Well. I’ll come back, of course. With Luke, and then –”
“Rey.” Leia reaches up to cup her cheek with her free hand. “The Falcon’s yours now. You can go anywhere, you deserve more than this.”
Rey’s lips part, and Leia can’t even begin to sort through the emotions in her eyes, eddying around them in the Force, before Rey’s leaned down and is kissing her, soft lips even warmer than the rain, and in that moment it seems impossible to do anything but kiss her back.
“So do you,” she whispers when she pulls back. “So do you, Leia.”
Title: all the colours of the aether
Rating: G
Pairing: Rey/Leia, Leia/Amilyn for like two seconds
Prompt: under flodens askegrene finder jeg min sjæl / skyggerne forstener, lyset slår dem jo ihjel for
The Force that curls warm at the base of Leia's skull gnaws at her with sharper teeth than usual when she's in space. She thinks sometimes it's because there isn't room for it in her heart, so full up it is already with absences and loss: holes where once had been Alderaan, Han, Luke, Ben – all scarred over with the tired necessity of war that there's hardly space for the lives she's fighting for, much less the Force in all its everything.
Other nights, safe in Amilyn's arms for a few stolen moments on the Ninka, she remembers the rush of power whenever she's let even a fraction of it into her heart, thinks about all the good that could come to their tiny fleet if she reached out to a few right minds and let them tip over with a silent click.
Leia knows exactly why the burning spark of the Force rests in her where it does.
When the bridge is blown apart around her, Leia has just enough time to think of who is still alive: Amilyn. Rey. D'Acy. Dameron. Ben.
And then there is nothing.
Nothing, but Leia is everything. There is nothing but the void around her because she has swallowed everything else whole, taken one breath and let galaxies flood her lungs, blinked and let all the stars collect and explode behind her eyelids.
There is not even air, and yet in the petrified dark there is still the Force, because there is still Leia and she is still alive.
And then there is Rey, too.
Rey and more, because while the Rey she remembers carried hope inside her like a flame it was always so carefully guarded, shared with the furtiveness of a scavenger still discovering that care could last longer than it took to next get paid.
You're not here, Leia would say if she could speak in this small bubble of air she's gathered round herself, but Rey picks up the thought anyway.
No, she smiles sadly. I'm not. But I'm never not with you, Leia, I couldn't stop feeling you if I wanted to. She holds out her hands, and it's as if she's reached right into the heart of Leia, right to the sharp-toothed burning that's spiraled down her spine, and dug her nails in and clung to something she can't help but recognise as hers too.
Come back, Rey says, and at her words Leia too reaches out. Easy now, in the vacuum that slips past her quicker than thought. Easy now, the light spilling from Rey's cosmic apparition illuminating her home no longer out of her grasp.
Easy now, want for a present pressed from Rey's hands to hers like a gift not quite bright enough to eclipse a hope for a future.
Rey isn't here at all, but she is kept safe in Leia's heart.
Rey isn't here at all, but when she kisses Leia her mouth is warm and her teeth are so, so sharp.
Title: i saw the sky in you
Rating: T
Pairing: Rey/Leia. Rey/Leia/Amilyn
Prompt: say something / I'm not giving up on you forpythiawrites / pythia
Leia looks beautiful with a lightsaber.
Of course, Rey thinks Leia looks beautiful all the time, and tries to tell her so as often as she can – likes to see the lines around Leia's eyes transform from worry to pleasure, likes to feel the shadows caught in her Force signature ebb just slightly. She's spent more tactical meetings than she can count with her eyes busy tracing way Leia's hair falls over her shoulder instead of focussing on the holomap, is sure she's turned the same shade of red as Amilyn Holdo's hair when the Admiral has placed a soft hand on her shoulder and given her an entirely too knowing smile.
But loving Leia is the easiest thing in the galaxy and the hardest thing she's ever done, and Rey's grateful to have someone who understands.
If it was only that, perhaps something would be different. But there's something other about Leia with her father's saber in her hand, all the concentration and command she wields so effortlessly condensed down to one beautiful, immanent beam of light that cuts through space without hardly trying. Even in her most profound moments of private grief, the ones Rey still can't quite believe she was allowed to share, Leia was larger than life, stories and love and fear and hope that her body could never contain, and when she moves with unpractised grace through half-taught forms, she is everything.
Rey watches her and is transfixed, transformed with yearning.
She had refused the saber at first, calling it a relic from a family she had never wanted to know, and Rey had hardly had time to begin to understand the compartments of Leia’s grief before the saber had flown to her hand and ignited all on its own.
Well, Leia had said, with far more reluctance than surprise. I expect that changes things.
I believe in you, Rey had replied, and only later when they were alone with Amilyn had she kissed the rueful grin away from Leia’s mouth. Like this, like anything.
She’s learning the shape of different wants now, a different sort of stubbornness. Learning how to lean into the hot press of Leia’s hand against her hip as she guides Rey through new exercises, the saber’s hum never loud enough to drown out Leia’s whispered good girl. Learning how to let go and fall into the vastness of Leia’s presence in the Force, to join her in the nowhere-time that is only hope.
One day, Leia says, and Rey doesn’t think she’ll ever understand how Leia makes such a vague future seem so concrete, we’ll find a kyber crystal for you. Let you make your own saber.
Rey reaches out from her spot on Amilyn’s lap, fits her hand over Leia’s heart and feels the steady warmth of unspoken words. One without so much anger, Leia thinks, one without so many memories.
Rey would carry them all for Leia, if she asked, but she likes the promise of new, too.
Other nights, safe in Amilyn's arms for a few stolen moments on the Ninka, she remembers the rush of power whenever she's let even a fraction of it into her heart, thinks about all the good that could come to their tiny fleet if she reached out to a few right minds and let them tip over with a silent click.
Leia knows exactly why the burning spark of the Force rests in her where it does.
When the bridge is blown apart around her, Leia has just enough time to think of who is still alive: Amilyn. Rey. D'Acy. Dameron. Ben.
And then there is nothing.
Nothing, but Leia is everything. There is nothing but the void around her because she has swallowed everything else whole, taken one breath and let galaxies flood her lungs, blinked and let all the stars collect and explode behind her eyelids.
There is not even air, and yet in the petrified dark there is still the Force, because there is still Leia and she is still alive.
And then there is Rey, too.
Rey and more, because while the Rey she remembers carried hope inside her like a flame it was always so carefully guarded, shared with the furtiveness of a scavenger still discovering that care could last longer than it took to next get paid.
You're not here, Leia would say if she could speak in this small bubble of air she's gathered round herself, but Rey picks up the thought anyway.
No, she smiles sadly. I'm not. But I'm never not with you, Leia, I couldn't stop feeling you if I wanted to. She holds out her hands, and it's as if she's reached right into the heart of Leia, right to the sharp-toothed burning that's spiraled down her spine, and dug her nails in and clung to something she can't help but recognise as hers too.
Come back, Rey says, and at her words Leia too reaches out. Easy now, in the vacuum that slips past her quicker than thought. Easy now, the light spilling from Rey's cosmic apparition illuminating her home no longer out of her grasp.
Easy now, want for a present pressed from Rey's hands to hers like a gift not quite bright enough to eclipse a hope for a future.
Rey isn't here at all, but she is kept safe in Leia's heart.
Rey isn't here at all, but when she kisses Leia her mouth is warm and her teeth are so, so sharp.
Title: i saw the sky in you
Rating: T
Pairing: Rey/Leia. Rey/Leia/Amilyn
Prompt: say something / I'm not giving up on you for
pythiawrites / Leia looks beautiful with a lightsaber.
Of course, Rey thinks Leia looks beautiful all the time, and tries to tell her so as often as she can – likes to see the lines around Leia's eyes transform from worry to pleasure, likes to feel the shadows caught in her Force signature ebb just slightly. She's spent more tactical meetings than she can count with her eyes busy tracing way Leia's hair falls over her shoulder instead of focussing on the holomap, is sure she's turned the same shade of red as Amilyn Holdo's hair when the Admiral has placed a soft hand on her shoulder and given her an entirely too knowing smile.
But loving Leia is the easiest thing in the galaxy and the hardest thing she's ever done, and Rey's grateful to have someone who understands.
If it was only that, perhaps something would be different. But there's something other about Leia with her father's saber in her hand, all the concentration and command she wields so effortlessly condensed down to one beautiful, immanent beam of light that cuts through space without hardly trying. Even in her most profound moments of private grief, the ones Rey still can't quite believe she was allowed to share, Leia was larger than life, stories and love and fear and hope that her body could never contain, and when she moves with unpractised grace through half-taught forms, she is everything.
Rey watches her and is transfixed, transformed with yearning.
She had refused the saber at first, calling it a relic from a family she had never wanted to know, and Rey had hardly had time to begin to understand the compartments of Leia’s grief before the saber had flown to her hand and ignited all on its own.
Well, Leia had said, with far more reluctance than surprise. I expect that changes things.
I believe in you, Rey had replied, and only later when they were alone with Amilyn had she kissed the rueful grin away from Leia’s mouth. Like this, like anything.
She’s learning the shape of different wants now, a different sort of stubbornness. Learning how to lean into the hot press of Leia’s hand against her hip as she guides Rey through new exercises, the saber’s hum never loud enough to drown out Leia’s whispered good girl. Learning how to let go and fall into the vastness of Leia’s presence in the Force, to join her in the nowhere-time that is only hope.
One day, Leia says, and Rey doesn’t think she’ll ever understand how Leia makes such a vague future seem so concrete, we’ll find a kyber crystal for you. Let you make your own saber.
Rey reaches out from her spot on Amilyn’s lap, fits her hand over Leia’s heart and feels the steady warmth of unspoken words. One without so much anger, Leia thinks, one without so many memories.
Rey would carry them all for Leia, if she asked, but she likes the promise of new, too.
no subject
no subject