3 hours later and Kylo Ren was marching into General Organa’s rooms, a black box under one arm. An hour and a half of tedious debriefing, roughly the same time prising some important information out of a few reluctant prisoners that demanded his ‘special touch’. Plus a few moments to sort out the present he carried. Kylo barely waited for the door to slide shut before activating the servomotors to remove his helmet, placing it on a convenient surface (along with his gloves) and turning to continue.
He was arrested by a vision of loveliness that caused his heart to contract and his breath rush out in a gasp. Against a panorama of stars stood his mother, brunette plaits coiled on her head and tumbling down her back, dressed in a flowing gown of lilac and purple. For a moment he believed himself to be dreaming again – those frustrating imaginings pieced together from his father and uncle’s memories and his own aching want – until she turned to face him and he noticed the mature elegance of her face. Evidently the return of her youthful shade had been due to the overzealous ministrations of the chambers’ personal care droid. Still, he stiffened in appreciation. “This dress is ridiculous.” Leia grumbled, at a loss for something to say at his intense gaze. “It’s much too young for me.” “Nonsense Mother. You look radiant.” He collected himself and continued forward, gently placing the box on the coffee table between two angular black leather sofas. “There was nothing remotely practical in that wardrobe, but that damned droid wouldn’t let up until I changed.” She folded her arms, rubbing her elbows anxiously. “Are you planning to scale hangar walls? Maybe help maintain the engines? I’m sure those dresses are suitable enough for activities suitable to your rank.” She frowned at his pointed barbs. “A skirt won’t hamper my escape, if that’s what you’re thinking by filling my prison with high fashion for fascists.” “I would expect nothing less from the woman who once spat in Grand Moff Tarkin’s eye. The ten thousand stormtroopers on board will be doing the hampering.” He sat on the right-hand couch, ignoring how tight his trousers felt. Leia continued to stand, her eyes glancing around the room’s elegant yet severe decoration. Anything to avoid looking her son in the eyes.
Eventually he grew bored of the staid silence. “Come sit. I’ve brought you something.” She ignored him, and merely reached a hand up to try and shift an uncomfortably wedged hairpin. Her thoughts were a jumble – intentionally no doubt, to keep him off guard for whatever she planned to do. Kylo could sense the nervous energy emanating from her. It was costing her a lot to remain still and outwardly calm. Perhaps the hectic muddle wasn’t intentional…he insinuated his will further in, looking for other signs of the mania that sheepish Bespin doctor had explained was the counterpoint to her intense debilitating sadnesses. However, her judgement seemed sound and her overlying mood was fairly stable, so satisfied, he withdrew. “Don’t you want to see?” She looked at him this time, then glanced down at the box briefly before fixing her gaze on the passing constellations. “No.” The dismissal burned him inside. “Sit down.” The edge in his voice was mild, but enough to make her obey. Best keep him happy, I suppose. For now. He smiled then. Her heart ached. There was no malice in it. It was the echo of the boy who had always been so attentive to her, who had run messages to and from important chambers with a desperation to be helpful to her as she worked, who had wordlessly accepted a tutor instead of going to school like the children of other diplomats, who had at five years old learned to memorise the colours and shapes of pills and when she needed to take them – and who had never balked at interrupting her, meeting or no meeting, to ensure she took them. He’d even once hit Han in the nose as he’d tried to wrangle his son away from the door to a certain delicate conference.
She refocused her attention back to the proffered box. It was largish; about the size of a hatbox, and black. Of course it was, practically everything on this horrible ship was. Black and red and grey and soulless. It seemed unpleasant sitting there, offensive even though she couldn’t say why. Gingerly she eased off the lid and peered inside. She flew up and away from the seating area with an aborted shriek, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the viewport and closed her eyes. A human head. “W-why-?” Kylo followed her almost immediately, his hands gently caressing her bare shoulders in a circular motion that was no doubt meant to be comforting. It just made her feel worse. “I had to punish him. I can barely stand the thought of another person touching you, let alone harming you as he did. Now the rest know not to cross the line.” The stormtrooper, she realised, as Kylo’s hand too-intimately grazed the still-healing bruise on her jaw with reverence. “I guess now there’s just nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine of them between me and the rest of space, then.” He chuckled. Too close, it sounded right in her ear. She felt the softness of his hair before the heat of his lips met her neck, pressed fluttering kisses down to her collarbone. Leia closed her eyes and willed herself elsewhere. This is not happening. I am on the base, having a too-realistic nightmare. Any moment I will be woken up by that kriffing alarm, or by that out-of-date power droid accidentally banging into the wall, poor thing has droid rot but he’s been on the base forever, the Astromechs would get upset if we relieved him of his responsibilities... Whether Kylo took her silence for assent or failed to notice her mental distance, her reverie was abandoned when the hand that been caressing her jaw slowly travelled downwards and under the youthful neckline of the hated dress to caress her breast. “Ben, stop that!” Leia inwardly cursed that she had trapped herself between the unyielding viewport and her son’s looming frame. “That’s your head talking. You forget, I can hear the song your body sings.” He whispered darkly in her ear, moving the offending hand so that his fingertip grazed her nipple, which traitorously hardened under his touch. Obviously he would know all the secret places she liked to be touched, and exactly how to elicit the physical response he wanted. He had made her head his second playground as a child after all. “You’re doing this to me, that’s all. Abusing your skills.” He sounded amused. “Oh Mother, you’d know if I were making you feel this way.” To illustrate his point she felt his presence in her head, before being drowned in a wave of pleasure so strong it made her knees nearly buckle. She fell back against him, and he used his other arm to encircle her waist and keep her firm against his chest. The wave receded, and she came too to feel his thick, hard length against the small of her back. She fought down a rush of nausea.
Faintly a bell sounded elsewhere on the ship. Kylo lifted his head distractedly. “Is that the time?” he murmured to himself, and reluctantly released her to wander across the room. Leia backed away across to the opposite side and reached behind her to grip the counter top. Its cool solidity was somehow reassuring. She watched him take the angular water jug and pour a glass, then press a hidden depression to reveal a small line of vials. Methodically he sorted one small yellow tablet, two oval red pills and a grey diamond – then re-pressed the hidden catch to let the vials sink back seamlessly into the body of the storage unit. Assortment of pills in one hand and filled glass in the other, he covered the distance between them too quickly. “Here. Your dinner will be delivered soon. You need to take these.” He offered them both, but leaving her some space. She took them from him cautiously, as if expecting some trick, and looked down at the chemicals in her hand. He had adjusted the dosage to reflect what she currently took. Did he get that from my head or did they recover some of our data? She looked back up at him, watching her expectantly with that solemn gaze, the wicked scar cutting across his too-expressive face.
Impulsively she dropped the pills to the polished floor and used the ridiculous heels of her shoes to grind them into powder, flinging the glass against the wall where it shattered on impact. A soft whirr and the cleaning droid was activated, slowly progressing over to clean up the mess. She had hoped to make him angry again; it was so much easier to hate him when he was raging with the shadow of his grandfather in his eyes. However the only thing it provoked in him was worry. “Don’t do that! You need those! You’ll make yourself unwell!” He reached forward as if to shake her. “Don’t touch me!” She spat, dancing out of his reach. He retracted his hand, biting his bottom lip. “I know you’re upset but you mustn’t hurt yourself. You’ll get used to being here with me. With us being intimate again.” Leia narrowed her eyes and forcefully projected a memory at him; Jabba the Hutt’s grotesque visage as he tugged on her chain to pull her close. “Soon you will learn to appreciate me.” Kylo stumbled back a few steps, looking pained. “How can you compare me to that thing? I have been in love with you since I was old enough to know what love was! I don’t want you in chains!” His projection was so much stronger than hers, though it was no memory. An image of her, dressed like an ancient Queen, seated on an imposing throne above a court of galactic ministers that hung on her every word. Empress, then. Kylo standing at her side like an inky spectre, one moment lifting her bejewelled hand to his lips for a kiss, the next gesturing with subtle menace to bring a dissenting senator to their knees with the Force in front of her. Empress Leia smiled beatifically and extended an extravagantly shod foot for the senator to kiss. Next image; her laying naked on silken sheets, long hair unbound and flowing, his head between her legs as she arched and gasped under the ministrations of his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair as she shuddered and came. Then it shifted and she was riding him, their hips meeting urgently, her head falling back as she groaned his name, raking her perfect red nails down his chest leaving red trails and making him gasp with delight. Another toe-curling orgasm and she relaxed. He flipped her over onto her back and began pounding into her as she rode out the aftershocks, chasing his own pleasure –
Leia forcibly wrenched her mind away from his. “You’re disgusting.” His eyes sparked. With a slashing movement of his arm the coffee table slammed up and into the mirrored ceiling, sending a shower of shards, splinters and shrapnel down onto the centre of the room. Several shards embedded themselves into the material of the sofas. A couple of quiet beeps and the cleaning droid turned to engage its next target. Kylo marched away from her, snatching up his gloves, jamming on his helmet, and punched the door activation panel so hard it was a wonder it didn’t cave in. He looked positively murderous.
Leia had never thought she would worry about the safety of members of the First Order.
Re: 2nd mini fill, different Anon. Part 3
He was arrested by a vision of loveliness that caused his heart to contract and his breath rush out in a gasp. Against a panorama of stars stood his mother, brunette plaits coiled on her head and tumbling down her back, dressed in a flowing gown of lilac and purple. For a moment he believed himself to be dreaming again – those frustrating imaginings pieced together from his father and uncle’s memories and his own aching want – until she turned to face him and he noticed the mature elegance of her face. Evidently the return of her youthful shade had been due to the overzealous ministrations of the chambers’ personal care droid. Still, he stiffened in appreciation.
“This dress is ridiculous.” Leia grumbled, at a loss for something to say at his intense gaze. “It’s much too young for me.”
“Nonsense Mother. You look radiant.” He collected himself and continued forward, gently placing the box on the coffee table between two angular black leather sofas.
“There was nothing remotely practical in that wardrobe, but that damned droid wouldn’t let up until I changed.” She folded her arms, rubbing her elbows anxiously.
“Are you planning to scale hangar walls? Maybe help maintain the engines? I’m sure those dresses are suitable enough for activities suitable to your rank.”
She frowned at his pointed barbs. “A skirt won’t hamper my escape, if that’s what you’re thinking by filling my prison with high fashion for fascists.”
“I would expect nothing less from the woman who once spat in Grand Moff Tarkin’s eye. The ten thousand stormtroopers on board will be doing the hampering.”
He sat on the right-hand couch, ignoring how tight his trousers felt. Leia continued to stand, her eyes glancing around the room’s elegant yet severe decoration. Anything to avoid looking her son in the eyes.
Eventually he grew bored of the staid silence. “Come sit. I’ve brought you something.”
She ignored him, and merely reached a hand up to try and shift an uncomfortably wedged hairpin. Her thoughts were a jumble – intentionally no doubt, to keep him off guard for whatever she planned to do. Kylo could sense the nervous energy emanating from her. It was costing her a lot to remain still and outwardly calm. Perhaps the hectic muddle wasn’t intentional…he insinuated his will further in, looking for other signs of the mania that sheepish Bespin doctor had explained was the counterpoint to her intense debilitating sadnesses. However, her judgement seemed sound and her overlying mood was fairly stable, so satisfied, he withdrew.
“Don’t you want to see?”
She looked at him this time, then glanced down at the box briefly before fixing her gaze on the passing constellations. “No.”
The dismissal burned him inside. “Sit down.”
The edge in his voice was mild, but enough to make her obey. Best keep him happy, I suppose. For now.
He smiled then. Her heart ached. There was no malice in it. It was the echo of the boy who had always been so attentive to her, who had run messages to and from important chambers with a desperation to be helpful to her as she worked, who had wordlessly accepted a tutor instead of going to school like the children of other diplomats, who had at five years old learned to memorise the colours and shapes of pills and when she needed to take them – and who had never balked at interrupting her, meeting or no meeting, to ensure she took them. He’d even once hit Han in the nose as he’d tried to wrangle his son away from the door to a certain delicate conference.
She refocused her attention back to the proffered box. It was largish; about the size of a hatbox, and black. Of course it was, practically everything on this horrible ship was. Black and red and grey and soulless. It seemed unpleasant sitting there, offensive even though she couldn’t say why. Gingerly she eased off the lid and peered inside. She flew up and away from the seating area with an aborted shriek, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the viewport and closed her eyes. A human head. “W-why-?”
Kylo followed her almost immediately, his hands gently caressing her bare shoulders in a circular motion that was no doubt meant to be comforting. It just made her feel worse.
“I had to punish him. I can barely stand the thought of another person touching you, let alone harming you as he did. Now the rest know not to cross the line.”
The stormtrooper, she realised, as Kylo’s hand too-intimately grazed the still-healing bruise on her jaw with reverence. “I guess now there’s just nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine of them between me and the rest of space, then.”
He chuckled. Too close, it sounded right in her ear. She felt the softness of his hair before the heat of his lips met her neck, pressed fluttering kisses down to her collarbone. Leia closed her eyes and willed herself elsewhere. This is not happening. I am on the base, having a too-realistic nightmare. Any moment I will be woken up by that kriffing alarm, or by that out-of-date power droid accidentally banging into the wall, poor thing has droid rot but he’s been on the base forever, the Astromechs would get upset if we relieved him of his responsibilities...
Whether Kylo took her silence for assent or failed to notice her mental distance, her reverie was abandoned when the hand that been caressing her jaw slowly travelled downwards and under the youthful neckline of the hated dress to caress her breast.
“Ben, stop that!” Leia inwardly cursed that she had trapped herself between the unyielding viewport and her son’s looming frame.
“That’s your head talking. You forget, I can hear the song your body sings.” He whispered darkly in her ear, moving the offending hand so that his fingertip grazed her nipple, which traitorously hardened under his touch. Obviously he would know all the secret places she liked to be touched, and exactly how to elicit the physical response he wanted. He had made her head his second playground as a child after all.
“You’re doing this to me, that’s all. Abusing your skills.”
He sounded amused. “Oh Mother, you’d know if I were making you feel this way.” To illustrate his point she felt his presence in her head, before being drowned in a wave of pleasure so strong it made her knees nearly buckle. She fell back against him, and he used his other arm to encircle her waist and keep her firm against his chest. The wave receded, and she came too to feel his thick, hard length against the small of her back. She fought down a rush of nausea.
Faintly a bell sounded elsewhere on the ship. Kylo lifted his head distractedly. “Is that the time?” he murmured to himself, and reluctantly released her to wander across the room. Leia backed away across to the opposite side and reached behind her to grip the counter top. Its cool solidity was somehow reassuring. She watched him take the angular water jug and pour a glass, then press a hidden depression to reveal a small line of vials. Methodically he sorted one small yellow tablet, two oval red pills and a grey diamond – then re-pressed the hidden catch to let the vials sink back seamlessly into the body of the storage unit. Assortment of pills in one hand and filled glass in the other, he covered the distance between them too quickly.
“Here. Your dinner will be delivered soon. You need to take these.” He offered them both, but leaving her some space. She took them from him cautiously, as if expecting some trick, and looked down at the chemicals in her hand. He had adjusted the dosage to reflect what she currently took. Did he get that from my head or did they recover some of our data? She looked back up at him, watching her expectantly with that solemn gaze, the wicked scar cutting across his too-expressive face.
Impulsively she dropped the pills to the polished floor and used the ridiculous heels of her shoes to grind them into powder, flinging the glass against the wall where it shattered on impact. A soft whirr and the cleaning droid was activated, slowly progressing over to clean up the mess.
She had hoped to make him angry again; it was so much easier to hate him when he was raging with the shadow of his grandfather in his eyes.
However the only thing it provoked in him was worry. “Don’t do that! You need those! You’ll make yourself unwell!” He reached forward as if to shake her.
“Don’t touch me!” She spat, dancing out of his reach.
He retracted his hand, biting his bottom lip. “I know you’re upset but you mustn’t hurt yourself. You’ll get used to being here with me. With us being intimate again.”
Leia narrowed her eyes and forcefully projected a memory at him; Jabba the Hutt’s grotesque visage as he tugged on her chain to pull her close. “Soon you will learn to appreciate me.”
Kylo stumbled back a few steps, looking pained. “How can you compare me to that thing? I have been in love with you since I was old enough to know what love was! I don’t want you in chains!”
His projection was so much stronger than hers, though it was no memory. An image of her, dressed like an ancient Queen, seated on an imposing throne above a court of galactic ministers that hung on her every word. Empress, then. Kylo standing at her side like an inky spectre, one moment lifting her bejewelled hand to his lips for a kiss, the next gesturing with subtle menace to bring a dissenting senator to their knees with the Force in front of her. Empress Leia smiled beatifically and extended an extravagantly shod foot for the senator to kiss. Next image; her laying naked on silken sheets, long hair unbound and flowing, his head between her legs as she arched and gasped under the ministrations of his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair as she shuddered and came. Then it shifted and she was riding him, their hips meeting urgently, her head falling back as she groaned his name, raking her perfect red nails down his chest leaving red trails and making him gasp with delight. Another toe-curling orgasm and she relaxed. He flipped her over onto her back and began pounding into her as she rode out the aftershocks, chasing his own pleasure –
Leia forcibly wrenched her mind away from his. “You’re disgusting.”
His eyes sparked. With a slashing movement of his arm the coffee table slammed up and into the mirrored ceiling, sending a shower of shards, splinters and shrapnel down onto the centre of the room. Several shards embedded themselves into the material of the sofas. A couple of quiet beeps and the cleaning droid turned to engage its next target. Kylo marched away from her, snatching up his gloves, jamming on his helmet, and punched the door activation panel so hard it was a wonder it didn’t cave in. He looked positively murderous.
Leia had never thought she would worry about the safety of members of the First Order.