and so it goes
summary: Leia's gotten herself stuck living the same day again, and again, and again. And maybe it's more to do with the fact that Han keeps dying—or that Luke sometimes seems like he remembers, but she's become the sort of monster that falls in love with her own brother. Leia/Luke weirdness don't pretend you couldn't see it
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note: THIS IS A WEIRD NO TIME TIME. Leia and Han aren't together. Luke and Leia know they are siblings. They are on Hoth still.
So I've not seen any stories genuinely exploring Leia/Luke and the weirdness of that whole thing. If there's a whole secret side to the fandom that I'm missing, please point it out because I have seen zilch. I've seen a lot of fics involving Anakin and his relationship with them, but I've decided that nah we should focus on Leia/Luke cos it's weird and gross but they kiss and yeah, maybe Leia did it to make Han jealous, but what Luke felt for her seemed pretty real.
If this isn't your cup of tea, do not leave me a mean review. I can take criticism, that's nothing. But if you are being mean because you don't like the content, you can kindly leave.
Okay, so regarding the 'groundhog day' thing—basically anytime Leia falls asleep/dies/passes out or is unconscious in any form, the day resets and she's back in her bed.
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LEIA ORGANA is rude to Han Solo the day he dies. She didn't mean it, not in the kind of way it came across—she was busy, she was just busy. And Han was everywhere. She couldn't shake the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and Han Solo was popping up at every corner with a gleam in his eye and a swagger in his step and a bone to pick with her, and Leia Organa lost her cool for just a second.
She'd said too much, and she'd said it too seriously. There'd been an unspoken set of rules in their barbs, they didn't cross any real lines. It was a game they played to fight off the repetitive dullness of living on a planet encased in ice. The second it was out of her mouth, Leia knew she'd messed up. Han's face had contorted into a bitter scowl, and then he was storming away from her.
And she didn't go after him.
She's started to think, that since the Death Star obliterated her planet, she's stopped recognising herself in the mirror.
So there she is, sitting in her office and pretending to work on papers when Luke stumbles in, his eyes missing something important and a look on her face reminiscent to the hours following Kenobi's death, and maybe it's that odd connection she has with him, but her mouth goes dry and she stands so fast her chair falls over and she knows.
Leia shakes her head, because it's not right that the day Han dies is the day she went a step too far—it's not fair.
"Leia—" said Luke, and she doesn't let him say anymore because she's selfish and wants to be alone.
She doesn't leave her room for the rest of the night, and goes to sleep with an ache in her chest.
Leia lays in bed and wonders about him in a belated, awfully selfish sort of way that really means she's more worried about herself. She would never admit as much, but it's there—festering under the surface and rotting her from the inside out. She'd never thought she was really awful before, so she does the only thing she can. Leia makes the conscious choice embraces the Rebellion. To throw herself even more into her work. She doesn't let herself think, even for a moment, because it's awful and it's not about him anymore. Leia's insides are spoiling, she's begun to think.
Han Solo is dead, and Leia Organa can't think about anyone but herself.
She makes herself get up, because she's supposed too and it's expected of her, but that doesn't mean she likes it or wants too, and maybe it's because she's going bad but she feels venomously angry at everyone she passes that greets her like everything is fine. She's falling apart, maybe, and so should everyone else.
But then she rounds the corner, and Han Solo is stalking towards her and Leia thinks the world stops spinning. She can't breathe. She can't do anything. Han Solo is dead. She stares at him with wide eyes and a dropped open mouth and her heart races and she feels her knees go weak.
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She wakes up in her room, sunlight shining in and she's not hooked up to any machines and no one is there with a concerned look and Leia doesn't quite know what to make of it. She stumbles out of her room, half expecting the welcome wagon to be positioned outside of her door—nobody was there, unsurprisingly. But still, the whole thing was utterly bizarre and Leia found herself desperate to see anyone that wasn't Han Solo.
Leia cornered Luke outside the canteen, her hand clasped around his wrist and she violently yanked him into the nearest closet.
She breathed a sigh of relief, quietly remembering that Han would be going down the hall in a few minutes. She turned to look at Luke, who's cheeks burned red and was looking in any direction that she wasn't in. Leia looked down, brushing her nose against his chest in the attempt, her own cheeks growing hot. She tells herself that it's because they are twins. That she's just not used to him completely.
"W-Was there something you needed?" Luke croaked, sounding suspiciously strained.
Leia forced herself together. "Did it happen to you, too?" she asked seriously.
Luke made eye contact with her and asked slowly, "What?"
"A disturbance in the Force—a seriously accurate reset of the day or anything?" she probed, throwing all caution to the wind.
Maybe it was the way he said it, but Leia wasn't completely sure she believed him when he said, "No."
Her eyes narrowed and she poked his chest, "Listen here—"
The door swinging open to reveal an unamused Han Solo. "Am I interrupting?" he snarked.
Leia glared, reaching to slam the door shut again. "Yes," she hissed.
Han's big dumb foot prevented her from shutting it. Luke's cheeks are closer to purple then red, and Leia pursed her lips so hard she wouldn't have been surprised if they turned black and fell off.
Luke practically leapt away from her then, grumbling some kind of excuse that didn't quite make sense or really register with Leia in that moment before he all but sprinted down the hall. Leia Organa stood inside a closet, Han Solo staring her down.
She did the only reasonable thing. Leia reached up, straightened his jacket, patted his cheek and said boldly, "You stay safe out there."
Then she pulled a Luke and gave a half assed excuse and ran to her somewhere that wasn't there.
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Sometime between day 23 and day 67, Leia loses count twice. It's gotten absurd. She's fallen into a repetitive motion that mostly involves trying to get Luke to remember, engaging Han in some form of banter, and ultimately trying to get him to stay. He never does, and she can't quite figure out why. Even when she's nice, even when the banter is good—even when Leia doesn't mess it up and Han gives her a soft smile before walking away, even the times she manages to get him to the point it looks like he might just tell her, he never does. And he never stays.
She gives up trying to convince him completely around day 70.
Weirdly, she can convince Luke to stay with nothing more then a pleading look. Okay, well not really, but it certainly feels that way after a single conversation with Han Solo.
Leia sighs. Today is a new day.
It really really is, in the bizarrest turn of events. Particularly because Leia has somehow weaselled her way into the 'tussle' that kills Han Solo. It's not a battle, because that would be stupidly simple, a stupidly reasonable reason for someone to die in the middle of a rebellion. No, because it's Han, he died after a petty argument with Chewbacca, going off on his own to the facilities, when he slipped. And died.
Leia laughed until her face was blue when she first heard it. The great Han Solo, dying over a toilet with a broken neck while Chewbacca fought off the Stormtroopers that had ambushed them. She laughed until a Stormtrooper managed to get decent aim and landed a hit.
She woke up minutes later in her bed. Understandably, she failed to see the humour anymore.
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The second time she manages to convince Han and Chewie to take her with them, she doesn't ask Luke to stay behind. When Han and Chewbacca get into the argument and Han storms away, she shoots Luke a helpless glance, and with a short nod, he follows.
She dodges the shot that killed her the last time around, but smacks so hard into Chewbacca in the process he stumbles to the side and his arm his hit. Luke appears moments later, looking frazzled, but an alive Han Solo is with him, and for a minute, Leia is convinced she's won.
Then, Han opens his big dumb mouth and says, "I'm not afraid of Stormtroopers!"
Leia watches in bemused horror as Han gets decapitated as a random blast hits just the right spot of the Millennium Falcon, causing a panel to swing down.
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Leia shoves him out of the way the next day, resulting in a cut on her cheek that would surely scar, and Han cracking his head open against a rock.
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The ninth time she joins them, Leia is convinced this is it. She's utterly sure that this is the last time. She says all the right things when she runs into him outside of the canteen, flirts with Luke just enough to get a blush, convinces them to let her join them (if it's so simple, I don't see why I can't come along), has Luke join Han in the facilities, moves the rock while she and Chewie are ambushed, pushes Han out of the way of the panel, prevents him from tripping while going into the Falcon, fixes the wiring before Han electrocutes himself, and finally, finally, when they are in view of Hoth, Leia is absolute sure this is it.
They land successfully, and Leia holds her breath. Han makes it down the stairs, and they get all the way to the canteen before Luke finally says, "Are you alright?"
Everyone stops. Han gives him a weird look, but Luke's eyes never leave her face. Leia swallows, forcing a smile.
"Great," she says.
Luke doesn't seem to believe her, and when Han impales himself with a fork, Leia doesn't scream in shock, and she doesn't cry. She groans in annoyance and screams at Han's slowly cooling corpse, "Just once! Just one day, can you not die?!"
It's Luke that shoves her into the utility closet. Her nose is pressed against his chest, and it's not him that's blushing. Her cheeks grow hot of their own accord, if it's because she's humiliated herself by losing her composure, or the proximity of Luke, Leia isn't sure.
"What's going on?"
Leia takes a breath and says, "I've been living the same day over and over again."
Luke's expression is unreadable, and for several minutes he says nothing. "How many times have we had this conversation?"
She gives him a wary smirk, a sad thing, really. "This is as far as I've ever gotten. Han usually dies before noon."
Luke exhales sharply. "The facilities, after his fight with Chewbacca."
"Took me awhile to figure that one out. I've never been able to convince Han to stay. Next time I'm going to lock him in his room. If he doesn't trip, slip, get shot, he's getting electrocuted or impaled with a fork," she paused for a long moment. "I'm starting to think that it doesn't matter what I do—that no matter what happens, he's going to die."
Luke hugs her. Leia's breath leaves her body, and for the first time in a long time, she starts to cry. "You aren't alone, Leia. Even if it might feel like it," he whispers. Leia sobs harder, because Luke means well, and it isn't true.
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"How many times have we had this conversation?"
"I've lost count."
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When she stops caring, really caring, throwing caution to the wind and grabbing people and kissing them in closets kind of not caring, Leia thinks that she's really changed. She's grieved for Han, she's accepted his death, the inevitability of it. Han dies everyday. Conversations go the same, and she learns everything she couldn't be bothered to learn before. She finishes her paperwork in record time, she's done it so much she could recite it line by line in her sleep. She greets everyone she passes by name, enjoying the surprise on their faces. The Rebellion is going to succeeded, and she's going to use this as her best chance of getting 80 steps ahead.
It's one her of 'serious' days, one of the days when she sees how much she can change, how different she can make things. Luke is the best for that—maybe it's because he's a sort of a Jedi, or maybe it's because he's her twin, but he's more likely to change, to go along with Leia, to be accepting of the changes she makes. And he always believes her. She might love him for it.
She throws her arms around him when she sees him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Good morning Luke," she says, smiling softly at him. He's flustered, unused to affection from her, but quick to gather himself as per usual.
"Leia," he greets.
"Come see me later, okay?" she then approaches Han, knowing if she doesn't pacify him now he'll throw a hissy fit later and corner her before he leaves. He'll die angry at her, and despite how many times she's lived it, she doesn't want him upset with her when he dies.
She spares a glance back at Luke though, pleased to see his pursed lips, ruffled hair, and pink cheeks.
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She makes him go outside with her. Leia regrets it when a snowflake lands in his eyelash and his nose is pink from cold and his breath comes out in puffs—and he tells her that Tatooine never snows. She knows of course, because Tatooine is a wasteland of sand, and Luke farmed moisture. She calls him Farmboy to feel like everything is still normal.
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Impulsively, she's spending another day with Luke. This time laying on their backs in an alcove, talking out random things. She props herself up on her elbow to look at him better when he begins telling her about his time with Yoda, he's never said it before. It's easiest to get him talking about Obi-wan, but even that takes delicacy. Leia's entranced as he speaks of a swamp planet, describing his Master, his time as a Padawan. He trails off, his eyes lingering on her face.
If it was anyone else, Leia might've thought he wanted to kiss her.
She tells herself to not think like that.
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She spends the next few weeks avoiding Luke, not that he realises, or that any weeks actually pass. Leia consoles herself by saying Luke won't remember her standoffish behaviour in the morning. So she blows off him and Han, using Luke's visit announcing Han's death as an excuse to work late into the night. She's stayed up the whole night before, wide awake, but unfalteringly, when the clock reaches 6 am, no matter where Leia is or what she's doing, she wakes up in her bed on the morning of Han Solo's death.
She's become rather skilful at deflecting, at avoiding people, at placating by saying just the right thing. Ironically, or perhaps not ironic at all, Leia finds it best to not see Luke altogether most days. She's finally hit her stride, and the second she figures out how to solve this blasted time loop, the Rebellion is going to thrive. She's learnt all the right things to say, how to fix all their problems, and how to prevent others. She's planned attacks, ambushes, finished all the work she had, did everyone else's, learned how to fix so many things it's gotten absurd (she blamed Han for electrocuting himself for about 4 days before she figured out how to fix the wiring). When she looks in the mirror now, Leia isn't sure who she sees anymore.
The Princess is gone, a hollow memory from lifetimes ago. She tries to start keeping track again.
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She gets to 375 days before the days blend together and she can't remember when day 379 began and when 399 ended.
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"This isn't just about you, it's about what's best for all of us," she dutifully recites her line, though it lacks the conviction it might've had the first time around.
Han still gets angry with her. "Listen here, Princess," he mocks. "I'm done doing what you say. What any of you say." He gestures widely, clearly meaning the Rebellion as a whole.
Leia is unmoved.
"I don't give a damn, Solo."
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Han still gets angry with her. "Listen here, Princess," he mocks. "I'm done doing what you say. What any of you say." He gestures widely, clearly meaning the Rebellion as a whole.
Leia rolled her eyes, patting him on the cheek (again). "Stay safe out there."
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"I can't talk right now," she tries next time.
"Listen here, Princess," he mocks. "I'm done—"
"Oh for the love of—" she's walking away before he finishes the sentence.
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"How many times have we had this conversation?" she starts trying with Luke again. She's never sure why. He says the same things as well. But it's easier then with Han. At least Luke believes her.
"If I knew I would tell you," she pauses. "Han dies in the bathroom, I've tried it all. I'm fine. Really. I've had a long time to get over it."
She answers his questions before he can ask. It's faster, and she can tell when any of Luke's lingering doubt is washed away.
"It's not always the same, I tend to change a few words here and there, but for the purposes of this conversation specifically I find it's easiest when we get this out of the way as fast as possible. I just wish the day wasn't so mundane," she paused, glancing at his wide eyed expression.
"I know, I know. Han's death is hardly a normal day, but it's really the only thing of interest. Nothing else happens. Trust me, I've tried it all." she says nothing else.
Luke exhales, mulling over the information for a few minutes before saying, "What haven't we done?"
A sad smile pulled her lips, and she grabbed his hand. "Thank you, Luke."
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She could swear that sometimes he almost remembers. The days she doesn't bother with faking it, she could swear he remembers.
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"I've tried everything, Luke," she hasn't, but she's not sure she can cross that line yet.
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"Don't you have your own paperwork?"
Leia gives a ruefully grin.
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The lights were low, Leia was leaning back in the chair she'd pulled out into the hanger, silently watching the ongoings. She'd made a game of it, to see if she could walk right onto a ship without anyone noticing. She'd done it before, but now, now, she had it down to an art. She stood from her chair as a wrench was drooped, marching forward as he picked it up. She glided past him without anyone noticing, all engrossed in their own activities.
Leia sat down in front of the controls. She'd been on ships before. Flown them, even. But she'd never stolen one.
First time for everything, really.
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She's in her office, hiding under her paperwork when Luke shows up. Maybe it's the look he gives her, or the way he doesn't, but her chest aches and she stands. Her mouth is dry, and she feels silly, like a little girl with a crush. And yeah, so what if that's exactly what she is—a sick girl with a crush on her twin brother (she squashes the thought before it's fully formed)—she's still a Princess, an important figure in the Rebellion, and she shouldn't feel shy around her brother. She reminds herself that she's important, and nobody has the right to make her feel this way. But then there it is. Luke looks at her, his eyes the bluest thing she's ever seen and she crumbles and her knees feel weak.
"Hi," she greets, her voice breathy, like she's just come back from a run. Her heart is racing enough, anyway.
Luke smiles distractedly, his hand resting lightly on his lightsaber hilt. "You told me to come by earlier. Do you have time?" his eyes drift to the mountain of paperwork on her desk. "…or not?"
Leia shakes her head. "No, it is fine." at his concerned look, she insists. "It's fine, Luke."
"Great," and there it is. That real smile, that's not quite all the way there. Leia wonders horribly if Luke smiled on Tatooine ever, and if it was any different then now. Must be.
They fall into a slow pace, side by side, just strolling. It's nice, Leia decides. To not be in a rush is a nice thing, and maybe it's being around Luke too, she feels lighter in a way she doesn't usually. Hasn't, really. She misses living.
"What did you want to do?" asks Luke. Her heart thuds in her chest, and Force, she's horrible. She feels like she's sucked all the bad out of Luke, and he's got all the good.
She shrugs. "I hadn't thought about it."
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When Luke Skywalker walks into the room, she forgets how to breathe. And yeah, maybe it's horrible and sick and she's going sour because of it—but she can't quite stop. He catches her eye, because that's what he always does, and he smiles. But it's sad and doesn't quite reach his eyes, and Leia is bitterly angry at their father for ruining it. She hates him sometimes, when it's late at night and she can see the similarities between her and Luke, the smile they share, and the way they look at Han when he's said something particularly dumb. There are moments, no matter how brief and hateful, that Leia Organa feels a hot stinging in her lungs when she tries to breathe. And she hates her biological father just a little more with each struggling breath.
She reminds herself harshly, keenly, really that she wouldn't have picked out Farmboy anyhow.
Han is pleased with it all, somehow. Like it's a good thing she has nobody else to choose from—and maybe he's right, there is no competition with Luke out of the running, he's her brother. Her ears feel hot and her head throbs so fiercely she dimly wonders if she's septic with all the rotten feelings.
"Where'd you go, your Highnessness?"
Leia swallows, turning her glare onto Han. She could argue with him until she's blue in the face, and she would any other time—if not to keep up the pretence that she was fine, to convince herself, really, then to settle her own issues with him. She could almost get over the repetitiveness of it if she tried.
"Not today, Solo," said Leia, walking past him.
She feels Luke's eyes on her all the while she walks out of the canteen. Leia doesn't turn even when she feels the fierce, hot urge to do so. She hates herself for it all.
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she's never getting out, is she?