Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

Author's Note: This is a companion to my piece "Father Figures", as I wanted to do a piece from Bail's perspective, but it didn't fit with the others. You don't need to read "Father Figures" to understand this fic, but they do go together.

Her Father

You worried when you saw Breha. She greeted the officials with a smile and assurance, but you knew her well enough to see the faint tremor in her hands, hands that tightly clenched a data pad. You saw the anger, fear, and sadness in her deep, dark eyes. Though you knew not what had happened, you instantly feared her news.

The officials did not object when she asked to speak with you privately. You were the consort to the Queen; she often sought your advice on matters for things the general public did not always know.

They also knew that Leia had gone on a diplomatic mission and that any news of her would want to be shared with just the two of you at first.

She was your daughter after all.

They left and Breha's façade of calm vanished. Her full lips trembled and she thrust the pad out to you, hands still shaking. Leia, Bail, she whispered in agony. Leia.

You saw the headline of the article.

And you did not believe it. You could not take it in.

It's a lie. You tell your Queen. The Empire released this report. Leia could still be alive.

The Tantive IV had sent out a distress signal, the report read. When help responded, everyone onboard had already perished.

How? Breha demanded and her voice broke.

You went to her side, put your arm around her, and drew her to your chest. You could not stand there and do nothing while she felt this way. But you also could not let her see your face, let her see your doubt in your own words, the fear and anguish at the thought of losing your daughter, that the Empire might actually have told the truth.

That they might have discovered her and taken her prisoner.

Your Leia, your beautiful, resourceful, determined, kind Leia…

That her fire might have been extinguished is almost too much for you. You cannot accept it.

And so you cling to an often ignored, never uttered truth: Leia is the daughter of Padmé and Anakin.

Anakin – the man the Holonet reported dead practically every day for the duration of the Clone Wars! The man who should have died on Mustafar in his duel with Obi-Wan Kenobi! The man Obi-Wan told you had lost all flesh limbs and burned on the side of the lava bank – the man who somehow still lived to this day.

Leia was his daughter.

Padmé – the woman you knew to be the most resourceful, most determined, most genuine – no… Padmé had gone to Geonosis, been there before the Jedi arrived, and managed to protect herself long enough to evacuate with the Clones… Padmé had fought a battle on her homeworld to take it back from the Trade Federation. Compassionate, brave Padmé…her death had been a shock but as you came to terms with it, you realized it was the only way Padmé could have ever died. Assassins had tried, she'd survived battles and a war, dedicated her life to the good of the galaxy, only evil and loss of faith could have taken her away.

She was Leia's mother, your friend, and you knew that Leia took after her.

Leia lived.

Leia lived because she was your daughter and you could not live with the thought of her dead.

But there were more than genetics, you knew that. You knew that you had raised Leia, that Breha had raised Leia. That she took after the two of you too.

She took after Breha, the only woman who could argue with Leia and win. Breha, the woman who had whispered to you in the dark, in your chambers, that she'd heard of a Rebellion against Palpatine and if you hadn't heard of it already, she said, I think we should join.

She took after you. You had stood up to Palpatine legally and then illegally, behind his back. You befriended Jedi. You lied about Padmé's death, lied about her "child", and never told anyone of Luke's existence.

Luke.

You had never told Leia about her twin brother. You had kept your emotions off your face when she told you of her imaginary friend, a boy her age, sandy blond hair, sparkling blue eyes. She saw this boy in her dreams and she would hold debates with him in the daytime, serve him at her play parties, he had a favorite stuffed animal of Leia's, and they shared everything. You did not know how much of it was pure fantasy and how much of it was the Force. Leia admitted when she was "too old for an imaginary friend" (her words) that she had pretended he was real, but she did dream of him a few times.

And you had smiled, told her that it was all right, that all children had imaginary friends, and that you had never worried.

You liar.

If Leia truly was dead –

No

But if she had died

You shudder at the word.

And you had never told her of her brother

Well…how could you –

You don't even know how to finish that thought. How could you what? Live with yourself? Atone for that lie?

Because you know, deep down, that that lie isn't the only one you told.

Because you know that by lying, you kept her safe, you kept Luke safe.

And that is why she cannot be dead. Because you are her father and you kept her safe until she could do it herself. And now she can take care of herself.

You were her father and you had faith in your daughter.

You just wish you could tell her one more time that you love her.