#I’m on my hands and knees ask me about my bounty Hunter Leia au

[theloneliestshipper]

What about a Soulmate or red string of fate AU for Leia and Boba?

I actually had multiple requests for this one. I came up with a premise years ago for this and yet writing it out only made me realize how hard it would be to get these two stubborn, independent people to buy into it. I dragged them as far as I could, I swear. 

AO3 Link

“It’s Mandalorian.” Her father’s voice was hushed. He sounded worried. “I recognize the lettering.”

“Could we have it translated?”

Leia rubbed her leg just above her knee as she listened to her parents whispering outside her door. The darker patch of skin had always been there. Her mother said she always had. It was only after her tenth birthday that the color began to deepen and the foreign letters began to take shape.

“Yes, but should we?” Her father continued. “This whole business of soulmates, it’s a lot of pressure. Maybe it’s best if she doesn’t know.”

Her mother sounded uncertain. “There’s a lot she doesn’t know, Bail. What if this is one thing too many?”

---

“You have a soulmark?” Sabine Wren’s eyes went wide.

“You don’t think it’s crazy?”

“My parents have them...so, no. My dad’s says, “I’m looking” and my mom’s says, “look at this beautiful sight!” My dad was painting a picture of a lake when they met, and he wanted her to look at the view and she wanted to look at him.” Sabine shrugged. “And those were the first words they said to one another. My mom says she was just grateful that hers was in Mando’a.”

Leia fidgeted, keeping an eye out for anyone passing in the hall of the rebel base. “Mine is in Mando’a too.”

“It is? That means it’s your soulmate’s first language!”

“I looked it up, but the translation wasn’t exact. It’s just one word. Slana’pir.”

“Huh.” Sabine considered that for a few seconds. “That can mean ‘get lost’ or ‘go away’ depending on the context. It’s kind of a funny thing for someone to say as their first words to you. The first letter, does it angle at the bottom? This way?” She illustrated with her hand.

Leia had to think about it. “No. The other way.”

“That’s interesting. It means they’re probably Concordian, from Concordia or Concord Dawn.” She grinned. “A hick Mandalorian, you know? In some places they use slana’pir literally, from a Concordian it’s more likely to be a threat.”

“Great,” Leia replied dryly. “I’ll just keep my eyes peeled for a Mandalorian who instantly threatens me. Are your parents...it’s real for them?”

“Oh yeah. They’re really happy together. My dad always says he doesn’t mind dying at the same time as my mom, because he can’t imagine living without her.”

“Wait. You die if your soulmate does?”

“That’s part of the deal. Once you meet and exchange words, you literally can’t live without one another.”

“But what if it’s someone you pass on the street and never speak to?”

“Then I guess you do what you want like everyone else.”

---

Leia couldn’t understand the grunts of the Gamorrean guards who dragged her through the door. They tossed her in the direction of the bed and left, locking the door behind them. The room was simple, the only furniture was a bed.

Jabba had made the terms of her captivity clear with the scraps of metal and cloth she was forced to wear. She was a trophy for the Hutt to display. So why lock her in here?

She paced for a while. When she got tired of pacing she sat on the bed, her eyes fixed on the door. That quickly became boring and so she laid down, curled up on her side. At some point she fell asleep.

When she woke up there were voices outside the door. Bib Fortuna, the Twi’lek majordomo, and a second voice.

Boba Fett.

Leia bolted upright. Of course. Jabba was passing her on as a bonus to his pet hunter. Her hands curled into fists as the door opened and the Mandalorian bounty hunter strode in.

“Get out.”

She resisted the urge to cover her soulmark with her hand. “Congratulations,” she snarled instead. “You can read.”

He didn’t respond. He stood frozen in front of the door until it finally occurred to Leia that something had happened. “The fuck,” he whispered, the words barely audible through his helmet. Suddenly he was moving towards her, and before she could scramble away he was on his knees at her feet, his hand on her leg. His gloved fingers scrubbed across her soulmark as if he was trying to rub it off.

“Ow!” She pulled her leg up under her, shoving him away. “Get off me!”

He straightened, started to walk away and then turned back. And then away again, as if he had lost all sense of direction. “It can’t be,” he said to no one.

“Are you on spice?”

He laughed, a harsh, unexpected sound that caused a burst of static in his helmet. “I wish this were a spice dream, but neither of us is going to get that lucky.” He lifted off his helmet, setting it on a table before he removed his jetpack. He was in his thirties, with dark curly hair and tan skin. A handsome man, in spite of his grim expression. He looked as if he wanted to be doing anything other than what he was doing.

He stripped off his bracers and then worked open the flak vest his chest plates attached to. When he started opening the neck of his flight suit Leia realized that he was undressing.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” she said. “Lay a hand on me and one of us is going to die.”

“I’m not going to touch you.” He said it scornfully, as if the very idea was offensive. “I have to show you something.”

“Why?”

His anger faded a little. “I think you have a right to know.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves of his flight suit and let the top half hang over his belt. He wore a white sleeveless undershirt beneath it, which he pulled over his head in one smooth motion. His back was all smooth skin and muscle, except for a few scattered scars and the line of aurebesh letters that ran vertically down along his spine.

Congratulations. You can read.

“Oh my gods.” Leia could scarcely breathe. “You...you didn’t read it. It was just...the first words you said.”

“Seems impossible that we haven’t spoken before. But even on Bespin we never talked. Not directly.”

“It’s you,” Leia said, still trying to process it. “You’re the hick Mandalorian. From...Concorda...or something.”

He blinked at her. “Concord Dawn. And I’m not. But my dad was.” He waited a moment, as if he was trying to decide something. “When did they show up for you? The actual words, I mean.”

“I was ten, I think.”

“Me too.” A smile appeared, fleeting but sincere. “My dad said they were funny. Like a joke.” He shook his head. “It’s a fucking joke, all right.”

“Tell me about it.” Leia rubbed her temple. “My soulmate is a bounty hunter.”

“And mine is in love with someone else.” Fett winced as if something had just occurred to him. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“Because if I don’t you’ll get yourself killed trying to rescue Solo. You know what happens now, right? Now that we’ve met? If you die, I die.”

“You could help me. Help me get Han out and-”

“And what? You’ll marry him, move to the outer rim and live a long, peaceful life?” His tone was rich with skepticism.

“Maybe I will,” she lied, trying not to think about the rebel forces gathering on Yavin IV.

He looked at her for a moment in silence and then dropped his gaze. “I’ll leave. Whatever plans you have, I’m not part of them. We’ll both just try to...stay alive.” His shoulders rose and fell in one sharp breath. “Since we probably won’t see each other again, is there anything you want to know?”

Leia plucked at the blanket on the bed. “I guess you’ve heard some of the same things I have.”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”

“I didn’t feel anything when you…” she gestured at her leg.

“Might have been blocked by the gloves.”

“Yeah. That makes sense, I guess.” It might be her only chance to test it. “If you want to try it again…”

He worked his glove off his right hand and approached her cautiously. His hand spread over her thigh, covering his words completely. Leia felt nothing. She gingerly placed her hand on his naked back, over her own words.

And then she felt everything.

It was...a connection. She could think of no other word to describe it. This person belonged to her. His life, his body, his mind and his soul. He fit her like home. She looked up into his eyes, eyes that reflected the same intense longing. “Oh no,” she breathed, overwhelmed and shaking.

“Yeah,” Fett gasped as he leaned in and kissed her and it was perfect the way no kiss between two strangers should be. Leia’s hand went to his chest and then up around his neck as the kiss deepened and then she was wrapped around him and they were both nearly horizontal on the bed.

And then suddenly he was pushing away, detangling himself from the embrace. He turned his back to her and clutched at his head as if he had a stabbing headache. “No,” he growled. “No fucking way.”

Leia couldn’t take her eyes off the words on his back. Her words. She wanted to touch him again. To hold him and comfort him. But clearly that wasn’t what he wanted. She swallowed the lump that was suddenly in her throat. “So I guess that’s real.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still facing away. “No matter what some stupid magic tattoo says, that was out of line.”

“It wasn’t…” She didn’t know how to finish that. Was it better or worse if it truly wasn’t what he wanted? For that matter, how could she be sure that it was what she wanted? “No apology necessary,” she said finally.

“That’s gracious of you.” He reached for his undershirt and pulled it back on. “I think I have all the information I need.”

“Yes,” Leia agreed. “So what now?”

“Now I ask you for a favor.” He turned to face her and he put his arms through the sleeves of his flightsuit. “Be careful. Play along with Jabba and don’t do anything that might get you tossed in the rancor pit.”

She inhaled slowly, weighing her options. “I’ll try if you do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“Don’t leave.”

His hands stilled for a second, and then he looked away. “It’s going to be hell,” he said, almost casually. “Not knowing where you are or what you’re doing. Fine. I won’t leave. I’ll help you if I can, but don’t ask me to lift a finger for Solo.”

“Fine.”

---

Things had taken a turn. Leia could feel it in her bones as Jabba’s minions raced for the deck of the sail barge. Fett clearly knew it too.

Artoo bumped against her leg with a quiet beep, and Leia took advantage of the Hutt’s distraction. She crouched down beside the small droid and held the length of chain between her hands. One zap and it broke.

But when she straightened, the bounty hunter was gone.

She heard Jabba’s cry of outrage as she bolted for the deck, but she ignored it. All of his guards were busy fighting. She caught a quick glimpse of her friends on the skiff and then the bounty hunter at the rail. The engines on his jetpack were lit.

Leia seized a pike that had fallen to the deck in the mad rush and swung it as hard as she could. Her aim was too good. Not only did she smash it into his jetpack but the force of the blow sent him over the railing.

Into the sarlacc pit.

She raced to the railing. He’d managed to slow his fall by grasping at the side of the barge, but without a good handhold in reach he was slipping down the side. She reached down with the pike and he grabbed it. A blaster shot ricocheted off the barge inches from his head. Artoo appeared on the deck and whistled sharply. Leia looked over at the droid. “What do you mean ‘it’s going to blow?’”

She jumped barely a second before the explosion. She collided with Fett on the way down and they hit the sand, rolling towards the mouth of the pit until suddenly they jerked to a stop. Fett had one arm wrapped around her and when she looked up she saw his other arm stretched over his head, bent at an angle that screamed ‘broken’ but anchored by his fibercord grappling hook to the skiff above them.

“Leia!” She heard Han shout, but she was too busy trying to hold onto Fett and keep herself from sliding further into the pit.

“Blaster,” Fett rasped. “Sarlacc…”

A tentacle slapped at her ankle and she pulled her leg up as high as she could. She managed to pull the bounty hunter’s blaster pistol from it’s holster and fired at the beast, causing the ground to shudder beneath them.

Chewie appeared over the railing of the skiff and then suddenly the skiff lurched and began to move. Fett let out a muffled cry of pain as it dragged them to safety.

---

“Can you see this?” Leia waved a hand in front of his face and Han squinted.

“I can see the motion.”

“That’s a good sign. Try to get some sleep, okay?” She bent down to kiss his forehead before leaving the Millennium Falcon's crew quarters. Fett was sitting up on the cot, his back against the wall. His arm had been set and placed in a sling and at the insistence of everyone else, his other hand was cuffed to the cot. His helmet sat beside him, and his eyes were half-shut. Lando had given him a pretty big dose of painkillers.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt worse.” His mouth curved into a bitter smile. “You fucked up.”

Leia folded her arms over her chest. “I still saved your life, Fett.”

He shook his head as if the motion took effort. “The sarlacc keeps its victims alive. You could have lived your whole life while I was being digested.”

“I don’t think I could have.” Leia sat down beside him on the cot. “I don’t want you to suffer. That’s not the magic tattoo, that’s who I am.” She brushed a dark curl off his forehead and laid her palm on his cheek. The sense of connection and wholeness she felt at Jabba’s was just as strong now. He leaned into the touch and Leia leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, which led to a longer kiss. And then an even longer one.

“What are we doing?” Fett demanded as soon as they broke apart.

“Nothing. You’re drugged to the gills and Chewie would love to have an excuse to throw you out the airlock.” She sighed and leaned back against the wall beside him. “I don’t like being told what to do. Even by fate.”

“My dad used to say ‘fate is whatever you make of your life.’”

He’d spoken of his father before, and always in the past tense. “When did he die?”

“Years ago. When I was still a child.”

“What about your mother?”

“Never had one.”

“I’m sorry. I can tell by the way you talk about your dad that you were close.” Leia turned her head towards him. “I’m an orphan too, you know. Maybe if we’d met at a different time or in a different place…”

Fett nodded and gave her a quick, tired smile. “If fate is real, maybe it’ll bring us back together when we have an actual shot at it.”

She laughed softly. “I like that idea, actually. Put it to the test.”

He lifted his hand as far as the cuff would allow. “I’d shake on it, but…”

“Nice try.” Leia sat up and gave him one last kiss. “For fate.”

[theloneliestshipper]

would love to see boba & leia in an apocalypse or dystopia!AU... there are so many to choose from like zombie au, natural disaster destroys the world au, government goes batshit à la handmaid’s tale, hunger games au. mostly this prompt is just an excuse to see leia save boba in some capacity because i’m soft for that and have them comfort each other emotionally and physically in dire circumstances because i’m also soft for that. okay i’ll stop now

AO3 Link

They caught another one. Leia’s stomach knotted as the sentry guards dragged the human into sight.

“Humans in armor,” RA-7 sniffed. “Will they never learn?”

Leia took a closer look. He was bleeding and barely able to stand, but his armor was unmistakable. A Mandalorian. Legendary warriors, according to the Archive. Their people were notorious for surviving extinction. “What will happen to him?”

“The same thing that happens to every human who tries to escape.” RA-7 lowered her head. “It’s a great comfort to me, Le-a, that you know better than to attempt such foolishness.”

The sentries were trying to remove the Mandalorian’s armor, with limited success. Their protocol said that escapees should be executed with a single shot to the head, but the scorch marks on their prisoner’s helmet suggested that this had already been attempted.

“Honestly,” RA-7 huffed. “If these old separatist units can’t learn to adapt, they’ll never evolve past their rank. You there! Just remove the head, and then complete your task.”

The Mandalorian held up his hands. “Wait.” He removed the helmet himself. He was older than Leia, maybe old enough to have fought against the first droid rebellion. He was handsome, even bloody and injured, with sweat-soaked black curls and tan skin.

“Can I have him?” Leia asked before she could stop herself.

RA-7 turned her head towards Leia, the lights in her photoreceptors blinking a little quicker than normal. “For what purpose?”

“For company.” Leia’s mind raced. What would make sense to a droid? “And for warmth. The Archive is cold at night.”

“I have observed that your body temperature is often lower than it should be for optimal health.”

One of the sentries shoved the man to his knees and placed the barrel of its blasting arm against the man’s forehead. Droids didn’t like to be rushed, but time was running out. “Please, your excellency.”

“Oh, very well. Stop!” RA-7 moved towards the prisoner and Leia quickly followed. “I will be taking the human. Here is my authorization code.”

The sentry scanned her code and then beeped once in approval. “Governor of the Archive. Acknowledged. All praise to our savior, L3-37.”

“All praise to L3-37.” RA-7 responded. “Please remove the rest of his armor.”

“I’ll do it,” the man muttered, leaning out of their reach. When his armor was in a pile on the ground, RA-7 gestured at his blood-soaked undersuit. “The cloth garments as well. You cannot bring such unsanitary items into the Archive.”

With a resigned sigh, he continued to strip until he stood naked in front of them.

“You will wash him,” RA-7 told Leia.

“Of course, your excellency.”

“And see to it that he has proper food and exercise. There’s nothing more pitiful than a sick human.”

“I will.”

“Unfortunately he appears to be breeding compatible. Shall I have that taken care of?”

Leia kept her attention on the droid so she wouldn’t have to dwell on her own embarrassment or the prisoner’s horror. “It might not be wise in his current condition, your excellency.”

“He does not look well,” RA-7 agreed. “But he does appear to be working. Your body temperature has risen considerably. Take him to your rooms and clean him up.”

“Thank you.” Leia gave her a respectful bow and turned to the man she had just rescued. “Come with me.” She forced herself to keep a sedate pace because it was clear that he was too injured to move quickly. As they walked she let her shawl drop from her shoulders and handed it to him. He tied it around his waist but said nothing until they reached Leia’s small room in the cellar of the Archive.

“Can you get my armor back?”

His words stunned her so much she froze. “Your armor ? You should be glad you still have your head. And-” she waved at his midsection. “that.”

“I am, but I need my armor.”

“Sit down,” she ordered, pointing stiff-armed at her bed. “You can worry about your armor when the bleeding stops.”

“I’ve never seen a human with so much influence here.”

“Don’t confuse strategy for power,” she returned sharply as she knelt to remove her medkit from under the bed. So many of these items were a rarity now.  Most of the droid governors didn’t see the point in “repairing” humans who would grow old and die anyway. RA-7 was the exception, but she couldn’t control supply and demand.

“How long have you been here at the Archive?”

“Since I was eleven years old.” She laid out her kit on the floor as she spoke. “I was traveling with my father when the droids attacked the core. Their protocol said not to harm children, so I was brought here and RA-7 took me on as her assistant. I provide human interpretation for oral histories of the galaxy.”

“You’ve been here twelve years.”

“Yes.” She injected him in the thigh with one of her last stims and dipped a sterile pad in bacta. “I spent a year on the oral history of the True Mandalorians. I recognized the clan markings on your armor.”

“It was my father’s.”

“Did you fight in the rebellion?”

“No.” He hissed as she began to clean the deep cut on his forearm. “I was a bounty hunter. I didn’t want to get involved.”

Her hand stilled. “How could you think you had a choice?” He didn’t answer. After a few seconds she resumed tending to his wound. “I’ll try to help you get your armor back,” she said. “But you have to do as I say. Be polite to the droids. Stay close to me.”

"I will." Two fingers brushed her chin, warm, human fingers and her body flushed with heat as she raised her eyes to his. “Thank you.” His mouth pulled up in a quick, tired smile. “I’m Boba, by the way.”

“Leia.”

His fingers withdrew and his gaze sharpened. “Leia. Organa?”

She felt dizzy with shock. “How do you know my name?”

“I know your mother. Breha Organa.”

“My...my mother. She’s alive?”

“Plenty of humans are, outside the core.” He leaned closer. “I wasn’t trying to escape when I was caught. Your mother pays me to get humans out of droid occupied territory.”

Leia could barely hear him over the roar in her ears. “You...have you done it before?”

“I’m on my twenty-sixth run.” He leaned back against the wall, confident in spite of his battered state. “Help me get my armor back and I'll get you back to your family."