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zoryany · 2 years
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Location Notes
SPAIN EXISTS! Also Italy.
CITIES - Bordeaux is there, plus New York guess what it exists, also Barcelona, also also Hollywood
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zoryany · 3 years
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Whumptober 2021
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Welcome to Whumptober 2021! May the Whump be with you :)
To all of you who participated last year - we have changed a few of the rules, but overall things have stayed the same. To everyone new: WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Keep reading
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zoryany · 3 years
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I made a uquiz about whether Darth Vader would kill you on the Executor. Have fun, don’t die!
https://uquiz.com/jPFZVp
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zoryany · 3 years
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Luke and Vader, Father and Son Discord Group!
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Do you love Luke and Vader? Are they your favorite characters? Do you just enjoy them and their dynamic? Do you read, write, or create art for Luke and Vader content??? 
Well, I have the discord group for you!!!! 
There are so many wonderful Star Wars discord groups out there, and some general ones do have a lot of Luke and Vader fans, but I wanted one that was specific only to the disaster murder space dad and his son. So I made one! 
Please note that this is specific to Luke and Vader and while other characters are welcome (because obviously people interact with more than one person in stories and art), it is a server dedicated to these two characters. So that’s the content you’ll see in this server, though we hope to add other server invites if you’re looking for other wonderful servers to post that content in! 
Please consider joining! 
https://discord.gg/XQsFS9W3gg
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zoryany · 3 years
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(Of Loyalty and Royalty) "You know, Captain Solo," the Empress said, delicately putting her wineglass down. Han tried not to stare at the motion, or at her, or anywhere. Things were always awkward around her. "I had my doubts, but I am beginning to see what Luke sees in you. I am glad he has you." Han breathed a sigh of relief. Then the Empress *had* to add, "Of course, my husband does not share this response."
Royal Imperial Skywalker AU (parts 1-6)
Send me things!!(always accepting, for this or any other verse, just… slow)
It had taken several minutes of insisting, and some creative thinking on his part, but Han had finally gotten Goldenrod out of his and Chewie’s collective hairs, having sent him off on some convoluted mission to find a very vital component for modifying the Falcon. It was weird enough being in the Palace, even with Luke, so being here without him was absolutely surreal. The night before had not been a restful one, that’s for sure.
At least now he had Chewie with him. Something about that big, walking fuzzball made everyone feel more at ease, it seemed – aside from the moments it was clear he was about to lose his temper. Then? It was best to steer clear, unless you wanted to lose an arm. But… even in the early days, Luke seemed to be comforted by his presence.
Han would argue until the day he died that he was not out of his mind for missing the fact that Luke was, indeed, the Imperial Prince, given just how fumbling the kid was right off the bat. Too earnest for his own good and stumbling over his words, you’d think he’d never spoken to another human being before. Which… well, clearly wasn’t the case, but perhaps he just didn’t have as much experience with the sorts of conversations regular folk might have. And for that, he always seemed so nervous when he tried to talk to Han. It was endearing, of course, and played a large part in winning the scoundrel over, but it absolutely screamed “Outer Rim Crop-Duster” without giving a hint at any form of nobility. And yet, when he was around Chewie, he seemed to just… relax. Words flowed much more naturally, whether he addressed the Wookiee or the captain, and a good portion of the tension he carried in his shoulders would just evaporate.
The ease of interaction between him and Luke had grown over the weeks, of course, but Chewie had always been an effective buffer in any situation. He was also effective when it came to negotiations for that very reason, and it was why Han almost wished his first mate had been around for the previous night’s dinner. True, all parties agreed it was for the best that he’d stayed behind, but still; it would have saved Han a lot of discomfort.
“Well, pal,” Han sighed, flopping down on his overly luxurious bed and sprawling out, “how’s it feel, living the high life?”
Perched awkwardly on the foot of the bed, Chewie gave Han a look absolutely brimming with irony. Given his history, as well as that of his people, Chewbacca had never really been in favour of an Imperial Regime in and of itself, but there was a certain level of respect he’d always held for the newfound freedom the Wookiees experienced under the current system. He would speak ill of the life of his people under the Republic, and the galaxy headed under Palpatine, but he carefully maintained an air of neutrality towards the current Royal Family. Through it all, though, Chewie had never sought a life of luxury. He’d always been content to live day to day, repaying the life-debt he was convinced he still owed Han and doing whatever he could to find his place in the galaxy.
Han supposed that over two centuries was plenty of life lived, and sometimes you just had to find your thrills no matter their source.
“Yeah, yeah, I getcha,” Han conceded, sitting back up and running a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I’m feeling all that at home here, either.”
Chewie took a few moments to glance around the room, taking in the décor and the pure extravagance everything seemed to exude, before he finally rumbled out his opinion on the matter.
As he pushed himself off the bed and wandered over to the balcony door, Han shook his head and sighed again. “Yeah, I agree, buddy. It really is… A lot, isn’t it? No wonder the kid felt restless here. I never woulda pinned him to live in a place like this, either.” He spent a brief moment looking out at the sprawling city below him, wondering just how Luke felt every time he took in the same view, before a wry grin spread across his face. “Wanna see a little more of where your new favourite cub grew up?”
Chewie rolled his eyes. On occasion, Han would complain about how much more Chewie liked Luke than him, a joke which seemed to have worn a little thin, but the fuzzball ultimately nodded, and the two breezed out of the room to get a closer look at the wing in which they were to reside for the foreseeable future.
***
“I know, pal.”
It turned out the Imperial Palace – or, at least the sections of it they had proper access to – was not as interesting as they would have liked it to be. They were in the guest wing, of course, and had encountered far too many droids restricting access to other, more interesting sections of the building. The two could make it past if they so chose, but decidedly chose not to, if only to avoid landing on the Empress and her husband’s bad side, and to not to piss off Luke or land him in any more hot water than he might already be in. So instead, they’d settled onto an elevated veranda, sprawling and luxurious and attended by a number of other droids who sought to meet their every need, feeling every bit as though they had landed themselves in a gilded cage of their own.
“I’m not sure what the next move is either.” Chewie draped a warm, hairy arm around his shoulders, and Han was grateful for it. “I can’t live here any more than you can. It just ain’t gonna happen. Luke knows that too.”
He left the next bit unsaid, and as Chewie finished his thought for him, Han found himself wishing he didn’t understand Shyriiwook nearly as well as he did.
For a moment, he tried ignoring his first mate, but another, more insistent rumble, accompanied by a not-quite-painful squeeze to his shoulder had him groaning. “You’re right, of course. As usual. I can’t stay here, and I can’t just drag Luke away from this place. I’m not sure we get to be happy, yanno? In a perfect world, I’d just take the kid with us, travelling the galaxy, adventurin’ from place to place, non-stop.” He paused and allowed the wry smile to twist at his lips. “Pretty sure Luke wouldn’t be strictly opposed to that, either. But…”
Silence rang heavy between them, even with the bustle of the city-planet below them. On another occasion, Chewie might have chimed in with the missing thought, again, but right now, it was clear there was no need. Han wasn’t avoiding it because he didn’t want to acknowledge it; he was avoiding it because it brought a level of pain he never wanted to confront when he was only just getting closer to Luke.
At the end of the day, it was duty that came into play, before anything else.
“Ah! Captain Solo!” Han nearly jumped out of his skin at the crisp tone of the droid as it interrupted his thoughts. “Here you are. And Chewbacca! I nearly thought I had lost you.”
He had to suppress a groan as he forced a grin and faced the gleaming golden droid. “Nope. Still here. Can’t get rid of us that easily.”
“Well, that is indeed excellent,” Threepio continued, completely missing the irony. “I do believe I have found the component you were looking for. I have placed it with your ship until such a time that you may require it.”
“Well,” Han drawled, genuinely surprised the droid had found anything, given his description, “I guess I’ll just have to take a look at it next time I’m fixin’ up the Falcon, and I’ll let ya know how you did, yeah?”
Chewie chuckled softly from behind him, but the droid carried on. “Her Majesty has requested your presence, Captain Solo. I must request that you follow me.” Request was more than likely putting it mildly.
Chewie raised a brow at the droid, rumbling a soft inquiry in Shyriiwook, but Goldenrod seemed unfazed. “I apologize, Mr. Chewbacca. While I recognize your desire to accompany the Captain, the Empress has asked to speak with him alone. However, if you so choose, I may wait with you outside her chamber while they carry out their business.”
The Wookiee was losing patience with the droid almost as quickly as Han was, but Chewie had always been better at maintaining his composure. Despite his own frustrations, he growled an agreement. Both Han and Chewie followed the protocol droid to the hallway leading to the Empress’ chambers, Han being ushered in while Chewie was pointed to a position just to the side of the doorway.
“Mistress Padmé awaits you inside, Captain Solo. I advise you do not keep her waiting.”
“Yeah?” Han felt his lips contort into a wry, contrary sort of smirk. “Well, I’ll make sure I don’t. I know better than to keep a woman like that waiting.”
“Indeed, you do have some wisdom in you after all, Captain Solo.” Threepio’s voice was chipper and polite as ever, but if he didn’t know better, Han would almost think the droid was mocking him.
“Right,” he replied, face darkening slightly, before turning to his friend. “See ya later, Chewie,” he said with a nod. “Try not to tear off Goldenrod’s arms while I’m in there.” He’d lowered his voice, but not enough to go undetected by a droid’s auditory sensors, and Han took more pleasure than he probably should have in the way Threepio seemed to jump at the comment.
Striding forward, the assured steps he took into the chamber worked to conceal the anxiety that truly roiled beneath Han’s composed exterior. Something about the Empress caused his legs to turn liquid and his wits to escape him. Luke was able to disarm him with his charm and catch him off guard enough to force him into idealism; the Empress disarmed him completely with her ability to read right into the core of his being.
Actually, every member of the family seemed to share that ability. His thoughts hadn’t felt private since he’d landed on Coruscant. The Empress could see right through him, the Princess shared her mother’s eerie personal precision, the father had his own brand of intimidation, and Luke…
Luke had always been able to sense Han’s vulnerabilities. Even when it wasn’t obvious that was what he was doing, it was present enough that the kid seemingly maintained a solid connection with him no matter what. Now that Han knew just what Luke’s connections and abilities were, he couldn’t help but feel just a touch more wary of him. He’d never much believed in the Force, nor did he really know what it did, and he didn’t quite trust it.
But… he did trust Luke.
He knew just how gentle the kid could be. Despite the insecurities they both felt, despite knowing what seemed to eat at him the most… Han held faith in Luke. It made him uncertain. Han was unaccustomed to uncertainty like this. But even though he was entirely unsure what the future held, he knew he had faith. A faith he hadn’t come close to holding for years before this, but faith nonetheless. He was not about to abandon that just because he was about to face the Empress, the most powerful woman in the galaxy, and someone who could very well dismiss his existence on a whim.
“Captain.”
The door closed behind him, and Han found himself in another room that seemed overly lavish and luxurious compared to what any being actually needed. He hadn’t really noticed, but they’d moved beyond the guest wing of the Palace. The droid’s escort had been so seamless that he didn’t even realize the route they were taking was unfamiliar and led past paths that had previously been obstructed. He’d been purposely misled to this chamber, and would be escorted back to his own private room so he could not find this one again, he was sure. It instilled a growing sense of unease within him, but Han would not back down. Holding his own against the Empress was all he could do. It even seemed liable to become his greatest achievement ever.
Han was not an Imperial Loyalist. He never had been. He wasn’t a rebel, by any means, just went where the credits were, but most Imperials were fairly stingy with their credits. It was the outlaws who paid the best, and for so long, he’d pledged himself where the fortune laid. But now… well. Was it fortune that drew him to Luke? Or something else? So many could look at his history, look at Luke’s identity, and draw their own conclusions. Han Solo, smuggler, scoundrel, and Imperial Leech.
Luke had never seen that in him, though. And, well, if Luke believed in him…
“I can sense your discomfort.” The Empress’ voice was somehow both cool and warm. She had an inviting air about her, something that begged you to share your every last secret, but she never shed her nobility. Calm, collected, and in control… that was the Empress, and Han wasn’t sure he would ever stand a chance against her in any sort of battle, of the wits or otherwise. And yet, he wasn’t sure that mattered. He would hold his own against her for Luke’s sake. That much felt so certain, no matter what.
“Discomfort, Your Majesty?” Yeah, playing it off seemed like his best bet. What else was he supposed to do? Just admit to the fact that he felt uncomfortable around her? No, that was a weakness he wasn’t about to show off just yet.
It seemed, though, he couldn’t fool her. The Empress wore an expression that seemed far too similar to a predator capturing its prey, though it did not contain the same level of cruelty as one who was about to devour. No, she seemed ready to play with her food before deciding if it should be consumed immediately, or if it was worthy of keeping around for a bit longer.
“You have not shown any signs of comfort since arriving at the Palace, Captain.” Her smile grew, but as it spread, it only became more inscrutable. Han really had no idea whether it carried more welcome or intimidation with it, but he could certainly tell that it carried more. “It is my sincerest hope that you may find some level of ease within our walls. I do not wish you to be on edge for the entire duration of your stay. After all, what kind of hosts would we be if you could find no trust in us whatsoever?”
Han quirked a brow. “I really gotta say, Majesty, it ain’t nothin’ personal. Promise. Your family’s done nothing wrong to me. Got no reason to stand against ya. Plus with Luke around, I’m really not about to do anything stupid like that. But you can’t blame me for being a bit nervous. I ain’t used to dealing with big shots like your family. And I’ve got no interest in kriffin’ things up. Especially not for Luke. Kid’s been through enough. He don’t need me comin’ in to make things even worse. It was his choice to have me here, and if I didn’t think he actually wanted me anywhere near the rest of your family, you better believe I wouldn’t have agreed. Sorry to say it, but my interest in politics is almost negative, so it would take either a huge stack of credits or the word of someone I trust to get me at the Palace at all.”
Did he actually just say all that? In his head it hadn’t sounded that bad. It just sounded like his usual ramblings. But actually saying it out loud…
The Empress clutched a delicate goblet in her gloved hand. It was filled with wine, and she took a long drink out of it before setting it down and smiling at Han. “You know, Captain Solo,” she said as the glass delicately took its place atop a coaster on the end table. Han tried not to stare at the motion, or at her, or anywhere. Things were always awkward around her. "I had my doubts, but I am beginning to see what Luke sees in you. I am glad he has you." Han breathed a sigh of relief. Then the Empress had to add, "Of course, my husband does not share this response."
“Well, Majesty, can’t say I expected him to.” Han hadn’t noticed, but a droid had placed a full tumbler of Correllian Whisky next to him, and he was quick to take a swig of it before he continued. “Can’t say I expected any of you to like me at all, to be honest. Still not sure if that daughter of yours is all that sold on me, either.”
Bright peals of laughter echoed through the chamber. There was genuine joy and amusement in the Empress’ expression, and it was enough to make her seem purely human. It was likely a side of her that only the closest and most intimate of associates would see from someone so regal. He’d seen the holos. The whole galaxy had. She was gentle yet stoic, kind yet solemn, genuine yet guarded… She was what you would expect a beloved Empress to be. But this – this seemed to be who she really was, and an unexpected warmth bloomed in Han’s chest at experiencing it. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t so doomed here, after all, if he’d won over the most powerful woman in the galaxy.
Maybe he’d have a chance at winning over the old man…
“My dear captain, you do understand my children well, I must say.” The light remained in her eyes, and Han could practically feel the tension in his shoulders unwind – though, that could very well be the whisky’s work. “Winning over Leia is no easy feat, but I think you have a better chance than most. She worries for her brother. And I assure you, it isn’t personal.” Clever woman, using his own defense against him. “You took her brother’s attention and caused him to be away from her. She was worried sick and missed her twin. It is not your fault – my son has always been reckless and acts of his own accord – but she resented you before she even knew who you were. Please be patient. Luke adores you. She will come to accept you no matter what. Even if she does not choose to show it.”
Han finished the last of his whisky, grimacing a bit at the thought of the princess. She resembled her mother a fair bit and had been seen in public with the Empress more often than Luke ever had been. The twins didn’t look all that much alike, really, especially when seen separately. While together, though, the similarities shone through. Similar mannerisms, expressions, body language… and they definitely interacted like siblings. Seeing them in this capacity left no doubt in his mind that the twins were, well, twins. But the princess always seemed far more like The Princess than Luke ever did The Prince.
The Empress took another sip from her goblet and her eyes settled on the dark liquid within. “My son has always been more trusting than his sister. He has a gentle heart. I know the dangers he faces because of it. That gentle heart is far too fragile for his own good, and while I know that Luke is strong… well. We all know that Luke is strong. He is not some delicate, withering flower that will crumble to pieces with a strong gust of wind. He is trusting, though, and will offer up that most vulnerable and breakable part of himself far more readily than any of us would prefer.” She paused, emptying the contents of her glass before setting it down and meeting Han’s eyes with a piercing, imperious gaze.
“The unease my family feels around you isn’t personal, Captain Solo. Neither we nor you have any reason for it to be, correct? But our concern stems largely from Luke himself. We know his nature, and when he left Coruscant for such a prolonged period of time, we all worked ourselves into a frenzy of worry about just what harm he might bring upon himself. Physical danger concerns us, of course, our family has guards for a reason, even given our own martial prowess. But Luke’s emotional state, especially when he’d fled searching for freedom… you understand why we would be concerned, yes?”
Han just nodded, wishing he had another glass of whisky.
“My husband may not be swayed just yet. Your status as a smuggler certainly does not help, either.” She really knew how to reassure him when it came to tall, dark and terrifying… “The best way to win him over, however, is to continue as you are. Make Luke happy. That is all we desire for him, first and foremost, and the finer points of status can be discussed at a later date.”
Han met her gaze with gritted determination and nodded sharply. “I will, Your Majesty. Swear on the Falcon. I will not let the kid down.”
“Good,” she replied, humour in her voice while intensity remained in her gaze. “See that you don’t. Farewell, Captain Solo. Until next time.”
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zoryany · 3 years
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Vader has brought grown men to tears by standing in the same room as them, but his kids have learned that their dad is all bark and no bite when it comes to them.
The only thing more fearsome than a Sith Lord is a teenager.
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zoryany · 3 years
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Edges of Mortality
“On a boring summer afternoon, a strange young man wanders into Han’s magic shop. What kind of trouble will he bring to the small, quiet town of Anchorhead?”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674453
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zoryany · 3 years
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This is for @zoryany for the Luke and Vader exchange over discord!
I really hope you like this! It’s from your fic Back Against the Wall! I really loved this moment and thought it was a great depiction of father and son! The fic overall was wonderful but this stuck out to me! I really hope you like this!
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zoryany · 3 years
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For @zoryany
Han was just minding his own business–that is to say, fleeing from the authorities for other, less serious reasons–when Old Ben Kenobi dumped a map in his hands and told him to keep it away from Vader.
Somehow, he runs into Vader’s son, an old flame of his, as well as Vader’s daughter, and agrees to go to space.
“Han Solo?”
So on edge his feet were about to slip off it, he damn near jumped out of his skin.
A young man with a long, white cloak and a lantern was standing to the side, his brown boots silent on the cobblestones as he walked forwards. His hood was down, the amber light brushing his neat gold curls, casting warm shadows on his nose, and Han recognised him the moment he laid eyes on him.
No one else was allowed to look that ethereal while still giving him an exasperated, amused look.
“Don’t you look at me like that,” he snapped. “D’you have any idea what just happened to me?”
Luke pale eyes flashed as they caught the light, moving… towards his pack. Staring at where the book was.
Then he glanced up again, into the woods.
“I have an idea,” he said, a little grimly, though he was still smiling. “Do you want to come back to my room at the inn? We—”
“Is there liquor?”
Luke laughed. “My sister likes wine a lot. Says she needs it to put up with me. Anything else, not really.”
The last Han had seen of Luke, he hadn’t known he had a sister—though, admittedly, he reminded himself, swallowing harshly, the context in which he’d seen him was not one where people would talk about familial relations—but he took it in stride. Luke was a good guy, only a few years younger than Han himself. He’d be fine with him.
And if Han brought Vader down on his head, well, he’d worry about that later.
Read the rest on AO3 or on FFN!
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zoryany · 3 years
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hello, I promised I would have Catboy Vader in a maid outfit as my first art of 2021. Look where we are now :)
oh and I was asked to tag people in this:
Keep reading
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zoryany · 3 years
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the day is today. if you haven't yet, go vote. 2020 has been shitty enough, we don't need to end it with four more years of Tr*mp. so please. my thoughts are with you all, and I'll be waiting with bated breath to see What Comes Next
this blog isn't generally political but I need to say it. Americans. please. vote. it's going to be very important that you get out and exercise your democratic right. please. I'm Canadian. I don't have NEARLY as much riding on this election as you American folks, but I DO care for you and your wellbeing. and voting is going to be so incredibly important. so. with election day tomorrow. I'm begging you. vote. we are on the precipice of something big. and you have the chance to contribute. so please, for the sake of everyone, use it.
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zoryany · 3 years
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this blog isn't generally political but I need to say it. Americans. please. vote. it's going to be very important that you get out and exercise your democratic right. please. I'm Canadian. I don't have NEARLY as much riding on this election as you American folks, but I DO care for you and your wellbeing. and voting is going to be so incredibly important. so. with election day tomorrow. I'm begging you. vote. we are on the precipice of something big. and you have the chance to contribute. so please, for the sake of everyone, use it.
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zoryany · 3 years
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I was feeling emotional about cats yesterday (I got scared for my cat’s health but I think we’ve resolved it) so I drew Luke with a Tooka cat/lothcat. 
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zoryany · 3 years
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Whumptober Day 13
BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT
Delayed drowning | Chemical pneumonia | Oxygen mask
Panic flared within him.
Why was it that every time he went on a mission that was supposed to be simple it went sideways in the worst possible way? Missions that could be classed as “overly complicated” seemed to go off without a hitch, especially when they went in with the most far-fetched of plans. Did the Force just enjoy toying with the universe, flipping the expectations of all beings it affected just for the fun of it?
Luke was running, legs pumping as fast as they could, and his lungs began to burn. Just breathe, in, out, in, out… no. That didn’t help. It reminded him far too much of another unsettlingly familiar sound that insisted on haunting his dreams – and his waking hours, a sound that emanated from a being who was, in fact, here, as well.
Against all odds, defying all of their intel, Darth Vader was close – on planet, definitely, in the same locale, almost certainly, in the same facility, far too likely. Darth Vader was here, pursuing Luke, relentless to bring him in after claiming to be his father. (Even though Luke very well knew the truth of their relation, he chose to deny it, no matter how strong the Force sung in confirmation.)
Alarms had been blaring for several minutes now. Somebody, either on their side or the Empire’s, had hit something within the labs, and now it did not matter what side anyone was on, they all just needed to get the kriff out of this place. Poison was flooding into the air, some chemical gas under development in this facility, and it wouldn’t be long before the corridors were saturated with its potency. Many had been close to the exits, the majority of people already outside the building, but Luke had been deep within, extracting data. Artoo needed just a couple more minutes to get what they needed, minutes Luke was certain he could endure and be treated back at base for any damage he sustained, but then that blasted man had to show up.
Of course Vader could stand to take his time pursuing Luke. That respirator of his had to filter out toxins like this. So Luke took a much more circuitous route than he would have normally to escape the building in hopes of eluding his hunter. Naturally, this meant more exposure to the toxin, and he could feel his lungs struggling to keep up with his frantic movements.
Finally, he reached an exit, but it was not an ideal one. Nowhere near the landing pad or anywhere he could slip into the nearby forest, Luke was nearly cornered, his only real escape the river adjacent to the facility. Maybe he could move quickly enough to evade Vader and meet up with anyone else from the Alliance. The growing pain in his chest was suggesting otherwise, though.
And all hope was indeed lost when Vader appeared in the doorway, looming over him and looking out at the limited terrain for Luke to slip away into.
“There is nowhere else for you to run, Luke.” He seemed far more satisfied than he had any right to be. “You would do best to come with me and allow yourself to be looked at aboard my ship. Your exposure to this facility’s work will only cause you complications down the line if left untreated.”
“I won’t join you,” he spat, glaring fiercely into the death mask. “I can’t join you! Even if you – ” His words caught in his throat, and he could not bear to finish that thought. Even if you are my father. Luke couldn’t just give up on everything he believed in, even if he… even if he wanted nothing more than to know the only family he had left.
His desires were strong, his need for family even more so, but he knew loyalty. His aunt and uncle had taught it to him, the Alliance had reinforced it in him, and his friends – especially Leia and Han – kept it true in him. As much as he wanted to know his father, to be close to the man he’d grown up idolizing, Vader had done nothing to earn his loyalty as of yet. Something within Luke whispered of the possibility, somewhere, some ways down the line, but right now…
“I’m sorry.” Right now, he had to do what he knew was right in his heart. “My place is not with the Empire.”
And he threw himself into the water.
Several sensations crashed over him all at once, all of them leaving him breathless. The river was cold, far more frigid than he’d been expecting, and Luke gasped loudly against the icy waves. That same gasp forced water into his lungs – water that had been filling his mouth anyways, due to his lack of swimming prowess. Fear, shock, and additional panic gripped his chest, and Luke began to flail against the current, using any movement he could to try and keep his face above the water and control his swift movement through the water. He’d always considered that he’d choose death over the dark side, and he’d even faced the reality of that decision once before, but this…
Something about this felt different. It was less abrupt than throwing himself into the abyss. There was a process involved, a chill that permeated his bones, a fear that swept through his being. Luke had not realized it until now, but water could pose a true and genuine threat. So much of his life had been spent scrounging for it, savouring what few droplets one could extract from the atmosphere and treating it as a nearly sacred substance, he never once considered there could be such a thing as too much. Facing that now forced a genuine terror to ripple through him, compounded by the repeated bombardment of waves crashing into his face.
As he struggled to take in more oxygen than water, Luke could feel his head growing light and his mind fuzzy. His thrashing had already grown weaker, and he was exhausted enough that he did not even realize how he called out for his father through the Force. before unconsciousness overtook him.
***
Foolish boy. Foolish, reckless, idiotic boy.
Vader did not know it for a fact, but he was nearly certain that his son did not possess the ability to swim, least of all to combat the current of the raging river running alongside the laboratory. The sting in his chest felt like Bespin all over again, his son choosing death over him once again. It was clear the boy did not know what he was turning down, nor did he recognize the danger he was getting himself into with his continued defiance.
But no more. While Vader could not dive in after him directly, he could make an effort to stop the boy from facing the most permanent of consequences for his actions. The echoing cry that rippled through the Force only served to further his conviction of this.
With a sweeping gesture, Vader summoned a large piece of driftwood, fairly flat and wide enough to support his weight, and leapt towards the raging waters below. Balancing atop the wood, he propelled himself onwards towards the dim presence of his son, momentum guided by the Force.
The boy was below the surface, skin pale from lack of air, but he was still conscious, if only just.
His prosthetics did not register much sensation, but it was clear how frigid the raging waters were by what little he could feel and the way his son was trembling. With far too little effort, he pulled the boy up onto the piece of driftwood with him, and guided their trajectory towards the bank. Tumbling onto the shore, Vader was quick to remove his cape and wrap it around the frail form in his arms. Through bleary eyes and soaked lashes, the boy looked up at him, pale eyes dull as he fought to stay awake.
“F – Father?” The word was weak, croaked out and nearly lost to the wind, but Vader heard it, crisp and clear as a bell.
“Yes, Luke,” he replied, gathering his son close to his chest. “I am here. You will be alright. Simply allow yourself to rest, now, lest you make your state worse.”
“I – I won’t… I don’t want to…” The protests were weak, his struggles even moreso, and nearly half-hearted. The boy still wished to escape, but he was succumbing to his sorry state, and the feeling of comfort provided by the very man he sought to elude.
Luke would come around to his point of view yet. Of this, Vader was certain. It would only take time.
***
He was stable.
The boy was stable.
Luke would live.
He just had to continue saying this to himself in order to stave off the restlessness that had already taken hold of him. Pacing outside the hyperbaric chamber – not his, but designed to be just as effective – Vader repeated these words over and over and over again in his mind, fearing what may become of his son.
Luke would live. He knew this. Countless med droids and even organic medics had assured him of this fact. What remained to be seen, however, was the state of his lungs following his recovery.
That facility had been developing a particularly potent chemical, a gas that would ravage the respiratory system from the inside out, meant to be deployed as a weapon. Its premature release could very well have had devastating effects on allies and enemies alike, and Luke had been exposed longer than most. With the toxin weakening his lungs and the water that had filled them following his escape…
The Son may reflect the Father even further than had initially been expected.
Should the bacta prove insufficient, Luke may be forced to live out the rest of his days on a respirator. Certainly he would require an oxygen supply when he awoke, for a limited time at the minimum. Vader felt pride at seeing certain reflections of himself and his past in his offspring, but for the boy to suffer in ways reflecting his own anguish was nigh unthinkable.
While Luke’s lungs had not immediately filled completely with river water, preventing him from an acute case of drowning, there was still fluid that persisted within, working in tandem with the chemicals insisting on breaking down his functions.
“You will pull through, child,” Vader rumbled outside the tank, staring at the pale, frail form within. “You must be stronger than I, in order to face the Emperor. I will not allow this incident to be your undoing.”
And if it was?
The hell he would bring down upon those who placed his son in this state would be unmatched by anything the galaxy had ever seen in all of its existence.
***
The first thing Luke noticed as his eyes fluttered open was the sterility bombarding every one of his senses. All he saw was a bright white backdrop, all he heard was a steady background buzz, all he could smell and taste was a pure, overly clean flow of air, all he could feel was an overly purified covering draped over him. None of this felt right, especially considering his last memories of plunging into icy currents and flailing about wildly in an attempt at self-preservation. This was far too comfortable for where he should have been.
A gentle pressure set itself against Luke’s face, covering his nose and mouth, reaching down nearly to his chin. Instinctively, he brought his hand to whatever it was and attempted to pull it away, but stopped short when a vise-like grip caught his wrist.
“Leave it be, Luke.” That voice was far too familiar, and if he was more lucid than he was now, he might have begun to thrash or resist. “It is there for a reason. Resistance will only cause you further harm.”
“Harm?” His eyes took a moment to focus, but when they did, they met the dark, angular features that had haunted his nightmares for years. “Vader. What did you – what did you do… to me…” He couldn’t hold back the wheezing and coughing that wracked his frame, causing his lungs to burn and the device on his face to feel even more present than before.
Vader’s fists clenched in the seconds that passed before he answered. “Believe what you will, but it was not my actions that led to your current state.” Was he imagining the subtle rage burbling below the surface of his voice? “Thoughtless science and your own… recklessness have placed your respiratory system in a state of intensive recovery. Speaking will only serve to worsen your condition.”
Luke’s eyes blew wide, terror threatening to overtake him. He opened his mouth to shout in protest, but an astonishingly warm presence wrapped around his vocal cords and silenced any sound he’d hoped to utter.
Vader’s stance shifted, his helmet dipping downwards and his shoulders hunching somewhat. He appeared almost… mournful. “I cannot speak to the permanence of your condition.” That… held far more regret than he’d ever expected from someone like Vader. “You have received the best treatment possible. However, your future remains unclear. Please, son, for your sake… listen to me, and allow yourself the opportunity to recover.”
A strange sensation was building within Luke. He’d always hoped to feel something like this, but he’d given up on it long ago. Now… the impossible felt somewhat within reach. Nodding slowly, he felt something lock itself into place, sealing his fate. He would remain with his father, no matter the state of his wellbeing. And, somehow, that did not seem the death sentence it once had.
So much of the future remained unclear. Perhaps he would need a respirator to live out the rest of his life. Perhaps his father would cause him nothing but pain, as they moved forwards. Perhaps he had doomed himself for all eternity.
But… perhaps… things might just work out…
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zoryany · 3 years
Text
Whumptober Days 2 & 3
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY || MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY
“Pick who dies” | Collars | Kidnapped || Manhandled | Forced to Their Knees | Held at Gunpoint
The butt of the blaster connected with the back of his head once again, and Luke tasted blood. Not for the first time, he found his thoughts struggling against the fog that had settled over his mind, panic forcing his heart into overdrive. He was on the ground, kneeling before his captors, and the impact caused him to keel over and land in the dirt. Bound hands had barely stopped him from falling face first into the ground below, but he could feel the sharp bite of the gravel dig into his palms as he braced himself with weak arms.
“Are you an idiot? Answer the question.”
Question? He wasn’t sure he understood much, right now, the drugs still working their way out of his system. He remembered being captured. He remembered being dragged here. He remembered his friends being dragged along as well, screams and shouts and chaos. But he didn’t remember a question.
“I – I’m sorry, I don’t – what question?”
A different sort of pain shot through him this time, a pain that danced across his skin, radiating from his neck down towards the rest of his body. He was convulsing, now, unable to continue supporting his weight and tumbling forward into the dirt after all. The same gravel that had bit into his hands was now grinding against his cheeks. A ragged cry rung through the air, and Luke found himself sympathizing, dimly, with whoever was screaming like that, not realizing it was his own voice that was echoing so loud.
Rough hands grasped at Luke’s hair, tearing his body upwards and his head backwards so his bleary eyes could take in the scene before him. Kneeling, all in a row, was an assortment of beings, some he recognized, some he didn’t. All appeared filthy and pitiful, a sorry sight much like he imagined he looked himself. There was desperation in the eyes of most, defeat in many, and in some… Some bore a defiance that was far more familiar than it had any right to be. The ones wearing defiance were the people he knew best, he was sure, even through the haze that hung heavy over his awareness.
Seeing them – recognizing them – sent a surge through him, and Luke found his awareness perk up just a touch.
“Deaf and an idiot,” another voice scoffed, gruffer and higher pitched than the first. “Really is a good thing we’re here to teach this whelp a lesson before trying to fetch any sort of price for him.”
No… the word price echoed in his head, and he felt a pool of dread gather in his gut. As delirious as he was, there was no doubt who his captors were: slavers. And the people before him were set to be sold off as well.
Gritting his teeth, Luke gathered up as much strength as he could and glared up at his captors, placing as much heat as possible into his expression. All this accomplished was to earn him a condescending smirk and another smack across his cheek.
“Yes, yes, he really is a sorry case,” cooed the first voice. They’d begun circling Luke, clearly not the one still gripping his hair, and he could only catch vague glimpses as they passed in front of him. “I have no idea how someone like this could’ve earned such a significant bounty, but here we are…”
After a few moments of pacing, this particular captor knelt before Luke and offered a toothy grin. They were humanoid, but there was something off about them. Cybernetic enhancements? A different species? He couldn’t quite focus on their specific features, no matter how much of that heat he harnessed, but he knew that, whoever this was, they were not someone he wanted to spend an abundance of time near.
“But perhaps that is not entirely your fault, at the moment.” The gleam in their eyes told Luke that they were fully aware of how dazed and confused he was. “True, you were rather… underwhelming even before we subdued you. But I suppose we should be patient, considering just how addled your mind must be. That particular cocktail we gave you is potent enough to take down a rancor, let alone a wretch like you.”
Harnessing that heat once again, Luke worked to meet the eyes of his captor. They were predominantly green, with a yellowish hue. The pupils were not fully slitted, but neither were they perfectly round. Their features were ambiguous, and he found it hard to get a clear picture of who they could possibly be, but all he knew was that he felt pure, unadulterated anger towards them.
“Go to hell,” he croaked. With all the defiance he had within him, he spit in their face. Feeling satisfied and with his resolve bolstered somewhat, he found a few more words. “What do you want?”
A flash of anger passed through those yellow-green eyes, but it was quickly replaced with a self-satisfied smirk. With a casual swipe, his captor removed the saliva from their face with their sleeve and stepped to the side.
“Y’see the pathetic excuses for people laid out in front of ya?” Anger flared in Luke, but he simply gritted his teeth and bit back his response, nodding stiffly against the grip on his hair. “All folk you wanted to save.” His gaze flickered across them all again, concentrating more on their features, and the pool of dread in the pit of his stomach only grew deeper and heavier. “Too bad you can’t save them all. Cause, see, our transport simply does not have the room for you all. We still get paid for proof of capture, dead or alive, but the journey will end sooner for some of you than for others.”
Panic was beginning to etch itself across the more unfamiliar faces before him. Luke could feel the sentiment reflected in his heart.
“Please…” The word spilled forth unbidden from Luke’s lips. “None of them deserve to die. Or to be captured. Just let them all go. It’s me you want, isn’t it? Just let them go, just take me, and I won’t fight, I promise…”
The pain bloomed once again, briefer this time, but more intense. His head was jerked backwards, and Luke found himself looking up at a very human face, silvery-blue eyes cold as durasteel, bearing an intense dislike for the creature they gazed upon. “He still doesn’t get it, does he, boss?” Long, slender fingers reached to trace across Luke’s neck. “This piece of scum is gonna have to make a decision one way or another, and ain’t nobody getting out of here alive.” Though he felt pressure on his neck, he did not register any sensation on his skin as those fingers continued to drag. And that’s when it hit him – the source of his pain, before, was a collar, set to administer electric shocks, should he disobey.
It took a great deal of self-control to keep from emptying the contents of his stomach right then and there.
What did they want with him? With the others? These didn’t seem like typical bounty hunters or even slavers. There was something far more… sadistic to them that set Luke on edge.
The leader, whoever or whatever they were, met Luke’s gaze again with a sharp-toothed grin. “Ye’ll be comin’ with us regardless, wretch, don’t you worry. And you’re far too valuable to take in dead, so don’t ya go tryin’ to sacrifice yerself. I know that’s how you hero-types operate. But I need yer opinion. See, I just can’t decide who’s gonna be dead weight. One o’ yer Rebellion buddies? Could be a bit more defiant than they’re worth, even if they are skilled. Or maybe one o’ these peasant-type folks. Much more docile, but lacking in skills. So whaddya think… little Jedi?”
His blood turned to ice in his veins, and his eyes flew wide as he gained full awareness of his situation. They knew. Somehow, they knew he had the Force. No wonder they’d called him valuable. (That was stomach churning on its own; comparing his life to others and knowing it was only because he had been born with some talent they lacked made him feel even queasier.) He still didn’t know, fully, how he’d landed himself in this situation, but Luke absolutely didn’t know how he was supposed to get himself out.
Without a miracle – or some very quick thinking he was not capable of summoning at the moment – someone was going to have to suffer because of him.
This realization prominent in his mind, he scanned the faces one last time, eyes finally landing on the familiar features of one of his wingmates, Wedge Antilles. He wore fire in his eyes, a righteous rage against what they were being subjected to, and the heat in that expression was almost enough to make Luke sweat. Wedge’s face slackened when his eyes found Luke, revealing sympathy and care as they exchanged heavy, mournful glances.
In an instant, the fire reignited as Wedge’s gaze flickered from his friend to his captor, and he began to struggle. “Don’t say anything, Luke, they’re just trying to get to you!” He gritted his teeth, a significant look exchanged between them and then – “The bird of prey has already left her nest. You know she always flies true, given the time.”
Bird of prey? Bird of prey… Luke considered that for a moment that felt like an eternity before finally realizing – The Falcon! Of course they’d sent out a distress signal. Han and Chewie (and, maybe, Leia) would know where to find them. There was hope for the lot of them yet. He just had to keep stalling.
Turning his eyes towards the leader, Luke narrowed his eyes. “How do I know,” he croaked, “that you’re telling the truth? About not having enough room? About someone having to die?” He felt the gears in his mind turning so fast he could scarcely keep up, and his mouth seemed to act before his brain could finish processing. “You get more out of taking people alive, you have to, so why wouldn’t you make it work? What is this about? Why are you – ”
The sound of blasterfire cut his words short, and the eyes that had been filled with flames just moments before now stared at him blankly, shock and defiance blending with the unmistakable emptiness that accompanied death.
Wedge was dead.
And…
And it was Luke’s fault.
Perhaps not directly. He hadn’t given the word. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. But they had both been defiant, and now his friend was dead.
The others were crying out in shock, those who dimly registered as fellow Rebels shrieking in outrage, the innocents wailing in horror. Luke was silent. He was in shock. Through everything, he hadn’t expected… this.
“Foolish little Jedi. You have no idea who we are or what we want. Don’t presume to guess. Just know that your fate holds a particular interest to us, and we will see it through. Now, it is time for you to sleep again, and face your new life on the other side. Rest well, little Jedi.”
He didn’t. A bite in his neck pumped him full of drugs once more, and a fitful, restless unconsciousness overtook him. The lifeless expression of his former friend haunted him, the dull eyes still filled with raw emotion burned into his vision, even through his faded awareness. He had no idea what was in store for him, but Luke was certain that this anguish was only the beginning…
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zoryany · 3 years
Text
Flufftober Day 5
SPARKLE
The kid had dragged him up and up and up and up, seemingly forever, the corridors ahead of them twisting and turning and winding throughout buildings and bleeding into streets and then into other buildings. Han had long since lost track of where they’d begun and where they were going, but he trusted Luke. After all, there had been countless opportunities for the Imperial Prince to leave this lowly smuggler to the wolves. Given the drama of every royal he’d ever even fleetingly encountered, this seemed anti-climactic, so even if he didn’t know and trust Luke as he did, he still felt reassured, somewhat.
“Just a little bit farther!” That was another reason Han felt compelled to trust Luke; the kid was chattering away, a pure and genuine joy radiating off of him as he went. There were some scoundrels who were as good a liar as you could get, and Luke was no one of them. Sure, he’d managed to deceive Han and everyone around him for weeks when it came to his true identity, but everyone had always known something wasn’t quite right. That was the thing, though - everyone had a secret, and no one asked questions.
Smart kid.
But not a malevolent one.
So Han carried on after him, and as he did, he felt his heart grow light even as his lungs burned and his muscles ached. None of that mattered. The way Luke bounded forth was infectious, and it reminded him what had drawn the two together in the first place.
Luke skidded to a halt, suddenly, and Han barely caught himself in time so as not to crash into the kid. 
“Close your eyes.”
“Uhh...” Luke’s chipper, insistent tone caught Han off guard. “I donno about this, kid...”
“Just trust me!” 
He was just so earnest. Something in those bright blue eyes reminded Han of a lost Loth Cat or an eager Akk Dog; as stoic as he liked to act, there were times when he had to admit that he simply could not. “Okay, I trust ya, just don’t make me regret this.”
“Don’t you worry,” Luke chirped, grinning as he covered Han’s eyes and grabbed his wrist with his other hand, “you absolutely won’t.”
They stepped forward a few steps together, Luke guiding Han through a door, up a short set of stairs, through another door... “Okay. I’m gonna take my hand away in a couple of seconds, yeah? Now you can open your eyes as soon as I move my hand, that’s fine, but if you want the full experience... give it a moment. Just listen. Feel the atmosphere, let your intuition tell you when to open your eyes... Just. Whatever feels right, y’know?”
The pressure on his face disappeared and an orange glow replaced the obscuring darkness in front of his closed eyelids. Han had been certain his eyes would snap open immediately, but he found himself hesitating. The atmosphere grew thick, and his breath caught in his throat as he felt himself tense in anticipation. Everything around him was buzzing now, and then - 
As his eyes slowly fluttered open, he could sense Luke beaming next to him, but all he saw was the gleaming of the city sprawled out before him. Coruscant had always seemed almost obscene in its resplendence, the sort of world that would swallow you whole with one single misstep. But this... this seemed to radiate the same vibrant energy Luke himself did.
Each building appeared as an individual facet in an enormous jewel, making its own contribution to the sprawling metropolis below. The sun was sinking into the horizon, a select few rays peeking out through the buildings surrounding it, bathing everything in a warm glow.
“This is my favourite place in the city.” Luke’s gaze had shifted from enthusiastically observing Han’s reaction to staring out at the horizon for himself. “Well - I mean I know the whole planet is a city, but in the capital here... this one place seems to just make everything sparkle.” 
And it did. The ecumenopolis below them glittered incessantly. But Han found his gaze drawn elsewhere. “It is incredible to look at, I’ll admit,” he said now staring down at Luke, “but it’s not the best view around here by a long shot.”
“I - ” His face was beet red, and he was determinedly staring towards the setting sun. “Well, I brought you here to - I mean that’s not - Han...”
Chuckling, The Smuggler sidled up next to The Prince and draped his arm across his shoulders. “I like it when you get flustered.” Leaning against him, Luke sighed and leaned into Han. “This place is wonderful. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
 And, with the glittering lights laid out before them, Han and Luke sat in silence together, enjoying the peace that came with the still air around the two. Neither could say how long they stayed there, but it was pleasant, it was quiet, and it was for them.
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zoryany · 3 years
Text
Flufftober Day 4
WOUNDED
A hiss escaped Leia’s lips, and Luke instantly pulled his ands away, wincing and apologizing. “I told you it was gonna sting,” he offered, voice soft and light as he moved back to working at her blaster wound.
For a second, she looked like she was about to hit him, but the moment passed and she sighed out a soft chuckle. “Yeah... that you did.” She winced again and bit back another hiss as the disinfectant pad passed over the raw skin once again. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though - you just about done with that?”
“In the time I’ve known you, I’ve seen you handle much worse. A little bit of disinfectant sting too much for you?” With a mischievous grin, he gave it one last swipe then placed the pad aside. “There, I’d say it’s clean now.”
This time she did actually hit him. “You’re a terrible person, Luke Skywalker, you did that on purpose.”
“Who, me?” He spoke with false shock and did his best to look the very picture of innocence. “Now why would I do that? It needed cleaning, that’s all. It’ll be worse with an infection.”
Leia rolled her eyes. “Classic little brother move.”
“I’m older!”
Neither of them really cared. They were twins. They were the same age. But they both enjoyed the banter. It felt natural, the one thing that had since the galaxy had shifted so radically after the fall of the Empire. They had each other, the two halves of their souls coming together the way they’d always meant to be, and both were grateful for it.
They grinned at each other for a moment, enjoying their repartee, but Leia’s face fell as Luke began to bandage her arm. Letting out a sigh, she scowled at the dressings. “Are the bandages too tight? My hand’s been acting up, I think I need to recalibrate it...”
“No,” she sighed again, “no it’s not that, it’s just - well it’s like you said. I’ve handled so much worse before this. But... I guess it’s just... the fact that I got hurt at all. And - and you didn’t.”
Pausing his task, Luke frowned at Leia. “Is that - C’mon, Leia, there’s no way you’re taking sibling rivalry that seriously already.”
She shook her head. “That’s not it either. It’s more that, well, this is my first mission since you started training me. My first mission with a lightsaber. One that was supposed to be easy, and I fumbled. And for whatever reason, that makes this tiny little wound hurt more than it ever should. That’s what this is about. Pride to an extent, I suppose, but also... fear that I may not be cut out for this.”
Luke stared at her for a moment, blinking several times, before he burst out laughing.
“Wow, Skywalker, you’re really great at this whole comfort thing.”
“Sorry, Leia, I didn’t mean to laugh, but are you forgetting what I was like when I first started training with the Force? I was a disaster. You’re doing so much better than I was at the same point in my training.”
“Yeah, but you taught yourself - ”
“Even after I got proper training, I still didn’t know what I was doing.” He kept the smile on his face, but a pang went through him anyways at the thought of Bespin. “It’s normal to be frustrated, or to be afraid you aren’t good enough. We all experience it in our journeys and at several points in our lives. It’s when we let that consume us, though, that we start to run into trouble. You’ll get there, Leia. You will. You just can’t let this one experience stop you.”
Her deep brown eyes bore deep into Luke’s, swirling with dark depths that flashed several emotions at the same time, until finally the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Maybe you’ve got some Jedi Wisdom in you after all. Thanks, Luke. I know all of this, I do, it’s just nice to have the reminder.”
The two shared a silent moment of understanding through their bond, one that was warm and comforting and peaceful, and Luke wished it could never end.
It did, though, when Leia’s expression suddenly grew serious and she stared at Luke through narrowed eyes. “Not a word of this to Han, got it?”
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