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leetoltreatexgive her a face. star wars sequel trilogy, amilyn/leia. something wanders out of the ice on hoth. 729w, rated m. for equusgirl.
The fragments of Leia's skin visible between the icicles are pale to the point of translucency under the glaring airlock lights. Amilyn presses her forehead against the glass and imagines tracing her tongue around the puncture wounds.
"How long has she been back?" On the other side of the door, Leia feels so absent that she might as well not be there at all. In the Force, behind her eyes - the same nothingness. Amilyn wonders how cold it would be if she sunk her fingers inside.
Mon's hand lands heavy on her shoulder, and Amilyn doesn't flinch even though it, too, is cold. Nothing on Hoth is warm, but even inside, a chill has lingered the past few days, deeper than Amilyn thinks it has any right to. "A little over a day. You understand why this isn't something we wanted to be widely known."
Amilyn hums, watches her breath fog over the window. On the other side Leia paces, footfalls heavy against the durasteel. Snow drifts around her, refusing to settle, and Amilyn can't tell whether the blood tracks frozen along her suit are new. "And nothing's melted?"
"No." A shift behind her: Mon tilting her head, putting something together. "The blood, sometimes. I've seen it move." Not the ice. Not the snow that Leia tracked in, or that which still hovers around her.
Amilyn drags her finger through the condensation lingering on the window. On the other side, Leia's whole body jerks, her pacing drifts closer, closer to the doors. "What do you want me to do?"
Mon's grip on her shoulder tightens, and Amilyn feels each individual press of her fingertips through her layers of thermals. "Tell me if she's still there."
"Oh. Of course not." The answer comes easy, unbidden, crystallising on Amilyn's tongue along with the knowledge that Leia's absence is something true, not just something felt. Under the ice, inside the body, is a space where something has been carved away and nothing has yet crawled inside. "I don't know where she is, though. We should keep the body."
She would know if Leia were dead, as surely as she knows that Leia is elsewhere now. Under the ice, inside of it - whatever she found out there is
Mon makes a small, thoughtful noise as Leia's body paces to the window, parting the snowflakes in front of her. She presses her forehead against the glass, and the crack as an icicle meets the glass and snaps reverberates through Amilyn's bones all the same: half falls, the other sinks into Leia's skin.
Amilyn licks her lips, remembering all the times she'd dipped her tongue into Leia's body not quite the same way, and - of course, the void. "No, sorry. I'll keep her body."
She's not suited for tracking, doesn't feel the same Force that Leia does. Better left to Luke, that kind of soul; better left to Mon the logistics of such a hunt. But to protect from the inside - to preserve-
She ducks out from under Mon's hand and reaches for the keypad. "Don't worry," she says, and she won't, she won't turn back to see Mon's face, unsure whether understanding or disbelief or fear would break her sharpest. "I'll make sure she doesn't want to leave."
Mon doesn't stop her, and that's all Amilyn could ask. Once sealed inside she keeps her back to the window, and the heat of Mon's gaze does nothing to warm her.
"Hi," she says. Leia's head cocks, interest playing over her face like a shadow. "You have something of mine, I'm afraid."
The icicle, when she grasps it, is cold in a way that has passed beyond pain. It slides out of Leia's body as easily as the other one had slid in, and Amilyn sets it aside with all the care she'd show a knife. The thing that is not Leia watches, curious, touches a finger to the bare, marred skin revealed under the hole in the thermals.
"You see," she says, and presses her lips to that space before she can think the better of it: lips, teeth, tongue, fingers, always the same order. "I belong there."
Whatever this creature is, she thinks, perhaps she cannot blame it.
Leia has always been exceptionally easy to crawl inside, and Amilyn feels warmth for the first time in days as she sets about doing just that.
equusgirl.The fragments of Leia's skin visible between the icicles are pale to the point of translucency under the glaring airlock lights. Amilyn presses her forehead against the glass and imagines tracing her tongue around the puncture wounds.
"How long has she been back?" On the other side of the door, Leia feels so absent that she might as well not be there at all. In the Force, behind her eyes - the same nothingness. Amilyn wonders how cold it would be if she sunk her fingers inside.
Mon's hand lands heavy on her shoulder, and Amilyn doesn't flinch even though it, too, is cold. Nothing on Hoth is warm, but even inside, a chill has lingered the past few days, deeper than Amilyn thinks it has any right to. "A little over a day. You understand why this isn't something we wanted to be widely known."
Amilyn hums, watches her breath fog over the window. On the other side Leia paces, footfalls heavy against the durasteel. Snow drifts around her, refusing to settle, and Amilyn can't tell whether the blood tracks frozen along her suit are new. "And nothing's melted?"
"No." A shift behind her: Mon tilting her head, putting something together. "The blood, sometimes. I've seen it move." Not the ice. Not the snow that Leia tracked in, or that which still hovers around her.
Amilyn drags her finger through the condensation lingering on the window. On the other side, Leia's whole body jerks, her pacing drifts closer, closer to the doors. "What do you want me to do?"
Mon's grip on her shoulder tightens, and Amilyn feels each individual press of her fingertips through her layers of thermals. "Tell me if she's still there."
"Oh. Of course not." The answer comes easy, unbidden, crystallising on Amilyn's tongue along with the knowledge that Leia's absence is something true, not just something felt. Under the ice, inside the body, is a space where something has been carved away and nothing has yet crawled inside. "I don't know where she is, though. We should keep the body."
She would know if Leia were dead, as surely as she knows that Leia is elsewhere now. Under the ice, inside of it - whatever she found out there is
Mon makes a small, thoughtful noise as Leia's body paces to the window, parting the snowflakes in front of her. She presses her forehead against the glass, and the crack as an icicle meets the glass and snaps reverberates through Amilyn's bones all the same: half falls, the other sinks into Leia's skin.
Amilyn licks her lips, remembering all the times she'd dipped her tongue into Leia's body not quite the same way, and - of course, the void. "No, sorry. I'll keep her body."
She's not suited for tracking, doesn't feel the same Force that Leia does. Better left to Luke, that kind of soul; better left to Mon the logistics of such a hunt. But to protect from the inside - to preserve-
She ducks out from under Mon's hand and reaches for the keypad. "Don't worry," she says, and she won't, she won't turn back to see Mon's face, unsure whether understanding or disbelief or fear would break her sharpest. "I'll make sure she doesn't want to leave."
Mon doesn't stop her, and that's all Amilyn could ask. Once sealed inside she keeps her back to the window, and the heat of Mon's gaze does nothing to warm her.
"Hi," she says. Leia's head cocks, interest playing over her face like a shadow. "You have something of mine, I'm afraid."
The icicle, when she grasps it, is cold in a way that has passed beyond pain. It slides out of Leia's body as easily as the other one had slid in, and Amilyn sets it aside with all the care she'd show a knife. The thing that is not Leia watches, curious, touches a finger to the bare, marred skin revealed under the hole in the thermals.
"You see," she says, and presses her lips to that space before she can think the better of it: lips, teeth, tongue, fingers, always the same order. "I belong there."
Whatever this creature is, she thinks, perhaps she cannot blame it.
Leia has always been exceptionally easy to crawl inside, and Amilyn feels warmth for the first time in days as she sets about doing just that.
