Leia Organa grew up knowing that she was adopted. But in order to protect her, her parents never told her why. She grew up thinking, in secret, that her birth mother abandoned her. She grew up thinking that her birth mother didn't love her enough to want to raise her. She grew up thinking that she was mistake, and that she meant nothing. All her life she tried desperately to prove to whoever her birth mother was that she wasn't a mistake, and that she was something; so maybe her birth mother would feel guilty.
Guilty? No, that's not really the right word. Maybe sorry or something like that. Sixteen year old Leia Organa was packing for her trip to Coruscant, where she would begin her term in the Imperial Senate as Alderaan senator. She surveyed the room one more time, checking for anything she had missed. "Well, I suppose that's it," she sighed. She caught her reflection in the mirror and stepped towards it to judge her appearance. Studying her eyes, she noticed for about the twentieth time that they were three shades lighter than her mother's or father's. Her hair was lighter as well, and she was about a foot and a half shorter than her parents. All things that were irrelevant when she thought about the grand scheme of the universe. But the tone of her skin was what really threw people off; she was much lighter in skin tone than either of her parents. She knew her traits came from her birth mother. They are the only things she gave me. Staring into her own eyes, she wondered if her mother ever thought about her, if her mother knew who she was when she was on the HoloNet. She was a baby when her mother had left her to fend her herself, so she probably wouldn't even realize who she was. She watched as an angry glint sparked through her eyes. Her mother probably didn't even care.
It was a lovely day outside her bedroom, just the right temperature with a slight breeze that tugged gently at the tendrils of dark hair that had escaped their hold in her tight braids. She sunk onto the chaise and gazed out over the fields that unfolded from below her balcony. Naboo looks like Alderaan, a bit, there are fewer mountains though. It's just as beautiful. Naboo, that's where they said she came from, that's where they said her mother had lived. That place was beautiful, especially the Lake Country. She wondered if her mother had ever even been to Alderaan. She was probably poor, too poor to take care of me. She wished it was like that, but she was too prone to elegance and royalty. There was no way she could have come from common stock, her father had said she was a natural princess. My mother just didn't care enough to take care of me. She didn't want the hassle. Wouldn't it be funny if she had been the Queen of Naboo? I wonder what she would say if she saw me now, almost like I'm walking in her footsteps. After Breha dies I'll be Queen of Alderaan. What would my birth mother say to me?
Sighing, she watched as a few of their horses thundered across the field towards the stables. It was getting to be late. A servant would be calling on her for supper soon. Looking down, she realized she was still in her day clothes and that she would have to change before she went down to eat. Glancing once more at the setting sun, she walked back into her room and fingered the evening gown she had left hanging on the rack in the closet for tonight. She wondered if her mother had ever owned clothes such as these.
She changed before her handmaidens could come into the room upon seeing what time it was to help her. She hated that. After thinking of it, she locked the door. Sitting at her vanity she took all of the end clasps from her braids and began to unbraid her hair. She picked up the brush and began running it through her dark brown tresses. Breha had braided it a few times when she was a little girl. But her birth mother had never done it. Breha had bathed and dressed and played with her. Her birth mother never had. Her birth mother had never been there to cheer for her highest accomplishments or dry her tears and comfort her during her lowest points. With hard eyes, Leia jerked the brush out of her hair as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Breha had, she knew Breha was her mother. Breha would always be her mother, even if the other woman ever showed up. Her mother hadn't cared enough to love her then, why would she care enough to love her now. She wiped away the tears that had been rolling down her cheeks and set about repairing her makeup. She heard the door click, but it didn't open, and smiled at the frustration she knew her handmaidens were feeling. They hated it when Leia locked them out; it usually meant she was up to something. But today she just wanted to be alone.
Leia had always been taught to forgive. She didn't know the real reason why her mother had left her to be adopted, or to die. She didn't know the who's or why's or when's or how's or where's. She didn't know. But she did know that Bail and Breha Organa were not her biological parents. She did know that her mother did abandon her. And that hurt her; it cut her like a vibroblade. Forgiveness was simple, in word, in thought, in meaning, and in theory. It was simple. But for Leia, forgiveness was near impossible, when it came to her birth mother. If she ever showed up at Leia's door, Leia didn't think she could forgive her. It was too hard, but she doubted she'd even recognize her. A knock on her locked door brought her back from her musings, and one of her handmaidens informed her that she was needed for supper. She quickly twisted her hair up into a simple bun. Hair, now that is simple.
Stealing one last glance at an Alderaanian sunset before she left and went to supper, her eyes were captivated; the sky looked like it was on fire. She loved it when the sky looked like it was on fire, it reminded her that everything had passion, and it renewed her own. She turned on her slipper covered heel and headed for the door, tossing another glance over her shoulder, but the white curtains had been blown in the way, blocking the magnificent view. My last Alderaanian sunset for a long time. She smiled as she walked through the receiving room and her handmaidens just stared after her, waiting until she had left the room to rush into her bedroom to survey it and see what she had been up to.
They found nothing, her bags were packed and sitting on the floor, ready for her early morning departure the next day. The balcony doors were open and the white curtains were billowing in the wind, blocking the view of the fiery sunset.
I wonder what you'd say to me, Leia thought as she walked down the hallway towards the dining room.
I wonder if I'd even care.