Title: "The Joy Of Being Darth Vader's Daughter"

Author: Shaitanah

Rating: G

Summary: Leia tries to deal with being "that monster's daughter".

Disclaimer: To George Lucas Star Wars belong! Own them I do not! Like to I would! ;)

A/N: One-shot. Might be a companion to Sidestroke. Please R&R!

THE JOY OF BEING DARTH VADER'S DAUGHTER

So pardon me while I burst into flames…

Incubus. Pardon Me

He tells me I am his daughter. His daughter. No wonder I've never wanted to know who my father was.

I give free vent to my feelings. Let my tears drop. Noone sees it. Noone is around.

'I have to go', he says. 'I have to find him. There is good in him'.

I want to scream. I want to grab him by the hand, perhaps, tie him to the handrail and beat the sense into him. You want to go there? (I gaze at the Death Star's terrifying shape, barely visible on the horizon.) You want to go to him? (I recall his harsh breath, amplified by the vocoder, his deep mechanical voice… Along with that comes the torture-room, and the faint smell of medicine, and the knowledge of being practically the only Alderaanian left.) You want to save him? Who is left there to save?

I am so full of memories.

He asked me if I remembered her. She was beautiful, I told him. Kind but sad.

The fact is, I can't remember her! She must have died at birth. My father… my father… my father Bail Organa never told me much. But he repeated it so many times that I've kept it in my memory. Kind but sad.

I have a brother. He's so good that he wants to save a monster.

Han comes closer. He's been watching us. I pray he hasn't heard a word. I fear his judgement. Here is Leia, the daughter of Darth Vader, the man… the creature who wants to destroy the Galaxy.

Han wouldn't judge you, my inner voice says. He's understanding and good.

I let him hold me for a while. I can't tell him now. Maybe later. Maybe never.

I'm being a coward. I want Luke to tell him. Luke has always been stronger. I long for him now, unwittingly letting Han misinterpret my longing. He grows jealous. I want Luke to decide.

It is an information overload.

I can't talk. When he demands I tell him what happened, I weep openly, and he feels ashamed for having suspected anything.

Luke is here. Luke is alive. And the dark one is gone.

I don't ask questions. He wants me to hug him. That's what I do.

He came late. I don't understand. 'I cremated him', he says. 'He didn't survive'.

I lower my head. I don't want him to see my impassive face. How can't he understand that I don't feel like sympathizing with him or talking about him? I try to judge him from Luke's point of view. But it's impossible! He never tortured Luke, he never blew up his home-planet… Selfish girl! Vader cut off Luke's arm, he's the reason his guardians are dead! I know that, yet somehow I feel like being the victim. Luke has always been stronger. He has the Force. I have nothing.

'You'll never forgive him, will you?' Luke wants to know.

I try to imagine him differently. Like some creepy-crawly from a childish nightmare. It might be easier that way, forgive and forget.

No, I say. I won't.

He doesn't try to understand. He looks at me with his new placid Jedi eye-sight – and he can sense that I'm lying. I want to have a father. I just don't want to have that… him for a father. I will forgive him when I deal with the fact that there is still Anakin Skywalker inside Darth Vader.

Until then let him be Luke's father. I'll have Bail Organa.

For now I'll have to live with the 'joy' of being Darth Vader's daughter.

May 24, 2006