I love Rogue One’s ending because it means less than twelve hours before A New Hope began, Darth Vadar was inches away from boarding Tantive IV before it blasted away. Like, he watched it leave.
When Leia starts blasting off about being on a diplomatic mission, she’s not only lying out her ass, she’s really fucking lying out of her ass. She’s throwing spaghetti at the space police just to see if anything sticks.
While I was making cherry almond clusters, I was thinking about that post about Leia being Bail and Mothma’s big plan to deal with the Death Star, and now I’m sad that we never got to see Obi-Wan deal with Leia.
Can you imagine? He sees the message from Artoo and he’s like, “wow, she looks like Padme, wow, Bail and Breha did a great job, but she’s in trouble so let’s go.” And then he’s stuck on the Falcon with Han and Luke and he’s like, it will be so nice to talk to a calm, reasonable person again, because Han is amusing but annoying and Luke is–Luke is too many memories of his father and a sweetness that Obi-Wan doesn’t want to see stripped from him, and it’s not the boy’s fault Obi-Wan has all this baggage, but Leia will be refreshingly baggage-free.
And then he meets her.
omg poor obi wan
it’s not like he ever forgot about anakin’s temper and passion but I guess he never thought what that would be like to deal with after being raised by two consummate politicians and rebel leaders
And her impatience and willingness to shoot first and maybe ask questions later.
Obi-Wan would suddenly feel even more ancient and yet also twenty years younger all at once. And she would just be like, “Well, do you have an idea, General? I’d hoped you were smarter than these two moon jockeys you brought with you–my father speaks very highly of you. But if you need me to take charge, get out of the way.”
‘I just thought you’d be more like Padme’
*Leia huffs in annoyance, pulls a blaster out of nowhere and wades in to sort shit out*
‘Okay, I may have conveniently forgotten that about Padme’
Ha yes! And meanwhile, Han’s like, “whew, she’s finally yelling at someone else, you handle her, old man.”
And Leia is like, “I do not need to be handled!” each word punctuated by another blaster shot. “Do you moof milkers have a plan for getting out of here, or do I have to do that myself, too?”
Luke is following along like it’s the latest holodrama Uncle Owen never let him watch, half in awe and half jealous, though he’s not sure if it’s Obi-Wan’s or the princess’s attention he really wants.
Princess Leia, who moments ago dropped out of hyperspace after fleeing the first major battle of the Galactic Civil War: Lord Vader, I should have known. Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit for this, when they hear you’ve attacked a diplomatic…
Darth Vader,
who literally just saw this happen an hour ago at most and watched her ship take off: Don’t play games with me, Your Highness. You weren’t on any mercy
mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system. Several transmissions were beamed to this
ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent
you.
Princess Leia, who received the data from the hands of a man who witnessed Vader kill a dozen people on his way there: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to
Alderaan.
Darth Vader, who has been following her the entire time and can read minds:
imagine being a han/leia shipper in 1983 and you’ve spent three years hearing from the luke/leia shippers how there’s no chance of han/leia happening because han’s probably dead now and besides the empire strikes back literally ended with luke and leia holding each other and staring into deep space so like obviously you’re an idiot for shipping han/leia and you need to get with the winning team… and then imagine going into that movie… and walking out of that movie… imagine that level of schadenfreude and personal satisfaction
I couldn’t give less of a shit about Kylo Ren but good god if it makes General Leia Organa Founder of the Resistance, Last Princess of Alderaan and Hero of the Rebellion happy for once in her life then I will THROW HIS ASH-SNORTING EMO ASS ONTO THE FALCON AND DRAG HIM BACK TO D'QAR MYSELF
Han blinked, startled by the sudden voice, the sudden farmboy-cum-Jedi standing in the doorway and blocking the light. It was after-hours even for the track, he hadn’t been expecting anyone in the pilot’s lounge.
“Hello to you too, Luke,” he drawled, leaning back in the armchair. “Good to see you, been too long, how’s the search for Jedi shit going? Myself? Well, I’m not too bad, bit of a trouble with my joints—getting older’s a rum business, you know? But I can’t complain; complaining’s the business of them who don’t have enough else to do, as I like to say.”
Luke stared balefully at Han, and Han got the sense he was just restraining himself from rolling his eyes. “You’ve never said that before in your life. And also, you should go see Leia.”
“Kid, I know you’re last of the Jedi or whatever these days, but you gotta work on your small talk.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “You are the most frustrating, stubborn—”
“To be fair, you knew that about me already,”
Han laughed, stumbling to his feet and crossing the lounge to Luke. With a sigh, Luke let himself be enfolded in a hug.
“Han—”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Is she hurt?” Han asked. (He still wasn’t entirely sure how the Force-thing worked, but he knew Luke and Leia kept tabs on each other, even across the galaxy.) A thought struck, and he sucked in a breath. “Kriff, is it—is it Ben? Is Ben okay?”
“Ben is fine. Leia is fine. She’s just…it’s a politics thing.”
Han exhaled, laughing. “Mother of Kwath, kid, you got me terrified over nothing. I am not the politics guy. Leia has politics guys, I am not them. I’ll give her a comm tonight, but I’m—sure she’s got it handled.”
“It’s about you,” Luke said pointedly, and Han felt cold well in the pit of his stomach. “This time, you are the politics thing.”
“Oh,” Han said.
.
.
“It’s idiotic,” Leia dismissed, when he commed. “Even if—someone’s choice of spouse said anything about their character at all, you are a war hero and a general. You led the assault on Endor! And now you’re an entrepreneur—”
“That’s a lot of syllables for someone who travels around the galaxy, betting on themselves in starship races, sweetheart.”
“The essence of politics is describing things in more syllables than they’re worth,” she bit out, and he laughed, outright. Even over the crappy satellite feed, he could see her relax a little at the sound, breathe out.
She looked so small and very far away, her face on the monitor.
“Do you want me there?” he asked. “Because I can be there—Chewie can take the Falcon, and I’m pretty sure farmboy still remembers his way around a ship if he needs a co-pilot. I could use a vacation.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s fine. I’m fine. You have the Outer Rim qualifier in two weeks, and this is just another stupid fight over something that doesn’t matter. A distraction. Once I get this bill approved, they’ll drop it.”
“Yeah, but—”
Before he could finish, there was a loud clattering sound from her end of the connection, and a shout of “Is that dad? Can I talk to dad?” with Threepio’s fainter, “Master Ben, really!” By the time he’d talked (argued) with Ben and talked (argued) with Leia again, the matter was dropped.
Luke looked up when Han entered he cockpit, smiling a little when Han groaned and let himself sag into the pilot’s seat. “So, about the Outer Rim qualifier—”
“Maybe you don’t know this about me,” Luke said, his tone thoughtful. “But I’m a pretty good pilot. I once flew an x-wing with my eyes closed and blew up the Death Star. So I could probably handle going really fast around a track once or twice.“
“I can see why the Empire decided to kill all the Jedi,” Han grumbled.
.
.
Normally, Han would have arrived on Chandrila at some ungodly hour, shucked off his boots at the door, and crawled into bed beside Leia still smelling of the Falcon, too tired to do much more than mumble against her cheek and pass out.
It was strange to be there in the sunlight, walking up the last of the stairs just as she was emerging from the suite. For a minute, he just watched her—she was on another planet, reading something on her datapad and all her attention focused there; he was still surprised she didn’t bump into walls when she did that.
He’d teased her once that it was the only part of the Force he actually believed in.
Han grabbed her elbow before she could pass him, and she looked up in shock. “You should be careful, Senator,” Han drawled, as she laughed. “I hear there are some real criminal elements in this part of town.”
“Oh, well,” she said, her eyes alight, “they can’t be as shockingly criminal as my husband.”
(Every time she kissed him like this, it was like that first time in the Falcon, his skin aching and hot, more alive than he’d ever been because death and her were staring him down. The kissing wasn’t the reason he left—or the reason he came back—but it was a reason, all the same.)
“Hello, stranger,” she murmured, when they separated.
“Hey,” he said, inhaling the smell of her, whatever product she put in her hair these days—it reminded him of Endor, something sharp and green. “Thought I’d come and apologize for not listening to you in person.”
Her mouth curved. “You never listen to me, I’ve gotten used to it.”
It took about two days for Han to realize it was worse than Luke had let on. He wasn’t sure why everyone suddenly cared about Leia marrying a Corellian bastard of an ex-spice smuggler—the justice who married them had asked if there were any objections five years ago, no one seemed bothered then—but people cared. And he trusted Leia when she said it would stop after the bill, but the bill was being stalled in some committee, and—
“Politics,” Han sighed, when Ben asked why Han was being talked about on the holonews. “It’s all just politics, kid, don’t worry. We’re going to be fine.”
On the third week, when they still weren’t fine, Han put Ben to bed and sat down across from Leia at the dining table. She had datapads spread around her and a pinched look on her face; Han almost balked, but— “Maybe I might be willing to go to some of those parties,” he said. Her gaze snapped up, to him, and he offered a weak smile. “You know, those ones I hate, with the tiny food and the awful people. And maybe I can show your senator friends that…I am that civilized Hero of Endor, and you didn’t screw up, by picking me. You know, if you think that could help.”
“Han—”
“Or, I mean, we could get divorced, but I worked really hard to convince you to marry me in the first place, plus there was a war. I don’t think I’ll get so lucky a second time.”
Leia looked at him for a long, long moment, then exhaled. “Well, we’ll try the first, and if that doesn’t work, there’s always the second option. Maybe you can ask for Threepio in the settlement.”
“Your sense of humor has not improved with time, princess.”
.
.
“You shouldn’t shout you know,” Han said, settling against the doorframe and offering a grin. “My wife wouldn’t be too pleased if she found out I brought a beautiful stranger into our bedroom.”
Leia met his gaze in the mirror and pointedly rolled her eyes. Han stuck out his tongue at her. “I thought you’d be dressed by now,” she said, her mouth twisting. “The party starts in an hour, and—”
“It’ll take me ten minutes to change. I didn’t want to wrinkle anything waiting for you.”
“I’ve seen you preen for forty-five minutes, Solo, don’t lie to me.”
He snorted, watching as she set down her brush and began braiding her hair. He’d always liked her this way, barefoot and unarmored, the most herself she could be. He’d always liked being one of the few allowed to see it.
“Did you need me for some reason? I can change into the suit right now if you think of some interesting ways to put wrinkles in it.”
“Just you hand,” she interrupted, shooting him another look. Her hands were still moving, doing something complicated with the strands she had gathered at the top of her skull. He crossed the room to her side, “Put your index finger…here,” she said, tapping a place where the strands wove together. He pressed his finger in exactly that place, and she wove the hair around it, like a ring. “Take your hand away? And—then thumb in the divot over my ear.”
“Okay,” Han said quietly.
There was something steadying about it, just her soft directions, and him, and their hands. He’d watched her do this before, braid and coil and brush and knot—the traditional art of Alderaan, passed down from mother to daughter. They each had meanings, and Han knew some of them; the circlet interwoven with a lace was her imitation of the crown of Alderaan, and when she wore that high coil of braids, it meant she was grieving.
(What about when you wear it loose like this? he’d asked once, when he was pouring it through his fingers like water. He liked it best down, a veil around her shoulders.
Nothing, she had said. This is just me.)
“I haven’t seen this one before, have I?” he asked when she was finished, touching the soft honeycomb cluster behind her ear, looping to an equally complex knot on the other side. It took him a moment to realize that the twisting coils were the size of his fingers, left over of his hands.
“No, I haven’t—done this one before,” Leia said quietly, smoothing back a flyaway strand with her fingertips.
“I’m surprised,” Han chuckled. “Would have though you had plenty use for braids that say you’re ready to fight.”
“These aren’t braids for fighting,” Leia said. She wasn’t quite meeting Han’s gaze in the mirror, and he thought he saw a blush. “My mother wore these each year on her wedding anniversary. These are—the traditional name is ‘the work of loved hands’ but they’re better known as wife’s knots. They’re one of the few styles that is unique to every wearer, because it requires two sets of hands.”
Han couldn’t think of what to say, if there was anything to say. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t trust himself. He felt like he’d get lost in it too easily, let the whole world and everything in it slip away because she was there, with wife’s knots in her hair.
“I didn’t screw up, picking you,” Leia said, rising to her feet. When she turned, her expression was fierce, stern. She’d ordered men into battle with that expression. “And either way, I did pick you. I’m keeping you, and there’s nothing the New Republic can do about it.
“Now,” she said, “get changed. The party starts in an hour.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Han said quietly, and followed her out.
like, during season 4, not after when everything went terribly wrong
- Padme, 6-9 months pregnant, rushes into combat all the time. Anakin has an aneurysm. “YOU ARE A SENATOR. HOW DO YOU GET SHOT AT ALL THE TIME???” and yet she never actually takes damage because she is ~flawless~
- officially, Padme’s children have no father. In an interview with the press, she said “I wanted a baby, so I acquired one” and that’s that. unofficially, anyone with the Force knows Anakin is the father. Honestly, anyone with eyes knows Anakin is the father.
- because you know how Anakin and Padme are the least subtle secret couple? Yeah, that goes out the window when she gets pregnant. Anakin kisses her mid-battle and smooches her back at camp and watches her with stars in his eyes and professes his love for her all the time. When Padme asks about this, he just shrugs and says “well they haven’t kicked me out of the order yet!”
- which is mostly because of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is deliberately pretending he didn’t see his former padawan makeout with a senator. it’s like, okay, he knows he’s supposed to do something about this, but they are in the middle of a war, and if they have to kick Anakin out of the Order right now for knocking up a senator then they will lose this war. Obi-Wan has more important things to worry about than Anakin’s libido.
- KIX
👐 TELLS
👐 PADME
👐 THERE
👐 ARE
👐 TWIN
👐 BABIES
👐 IN
👐 THERE
👐
- speaking of the clones, oh man, they are so fiercely protective of Padme. She is their general’s lady and their senator and they would gladly die before letting her or her babies get hurt.
- (but also, preggars Padme makes them sad, because will any of them ever get that for themselves? probably not–they were made to die, and with the rapid aging…but maybe one day…)
- Rex has absolutely had to go get weird food combinations in the middle of the night for his general’s wife. absolutely. that is in Rex’s job description.
- also you thought Padme gave effective speeches before? Imagine pregnant Padme giving speeches about needing to end the war for peace for the future. 110% approval rating comes from soft pregnancy glow.
- the twins are born on a battlefield in a camp where there’s blasterfire and smoke not two feet away. Obi-Wan is there, and he intends to tell Anakin and Padme both that he’s sorry, that they’ll get the twins for a little while, but they’ll have to go to the temple, they’ll have to be raised in the creche–
- but then luke is born, and the Force screams at Obi-Wan this is your padawan and obi-wan goes “oh” softly.
- also, Leia comes into the world and Ahsoka watches and goes “oh look it’s my padawan. I mean I’m a padawan myself but that girl is going to be my padawan some day this is rad.”
- so Anakin relaxes a bit, ‘cause the Force is going to take care of its grandchildren okay, it wants it’s favorite son to be happy.
- which means Palpatine has lost any and all chance of converting Anakin to the dark side. It will never happen now.
- i’m not saying that after they are born, Anakin and Padme strap a twin each to their back and then head out into battle, but Luke and Leia’s first lullaby is the sound of blasterfire and lightsabers
