Title: Fairytale
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A fairytale with the most unlikely of heroes.
It was the strangest thing I have ever felt. To trust someone implicitly with your life and at the same time fear any error of judgment on your behalf would cause that same person, the one you trusted most, to end your very existence. That is what I, and everyone else in my company, had felt after our first day under Lord Vader's command. Most were more afraid of Vader than of the rebels, for the rebels were more accepting of failures. He inspired such trust and at the same time real fear. How Darth Vader had managed to do this and do this so flawlessly was a question for the ages. No matter how he accomplished this feat, we still all felt the same sense of awe and fear whenever he commanded the troops.
If Lord Vader asked us to jump, we asked how high. If Lord Vader told us to wipe out a rebel base that outnumbered our soldiers two-to-one we had directed our ships to the location before he finished stating his request. And that is the same reason, and the only reason I often tried to convince myself, that I threw myself into the blaster's bolt when Darth Vader was under particularly heavy fire. Those stupid rebels. They should have known they would never win.
After I awoke a week later, still damp with bacta, I finally learned outcome of the battle- we of course won- and I was told of our victory by Darth Vader himself nonetheless. It seems I was somewhat of a legend now. The stupid little solider girl who threw herself in front of a Sith Lord with a light saber and blaster dampening armor to protect said Sith Lord from what would have been only a tear in his menacing black suit if the bolt hit him at all. It seemed the Dark Lord was rather impressed with my "heroics" as well. He promoted me, I thanked him and then I never saw him again.
Weeks later, after much of the hype had died down one of my friends approached me and regaled to me the tale of a princess who jumped in front of a prince just before he was shot. This princess had been hit with a modified blaster and had severe burns, as well as a gaping, burnt hole out her back. The prince, upon seeing this, swept through the camp and killed every last rebel in a matter of minutes, all while holding the unconscious princess to his side.
The story, like any good fairytale, contained a bit of magic. The prince carried the princess to his shuttle and healed as much of the wound as he could, inevitably saving her life. But as magic is wont to do, the spell didn't turn out the way it supposed to. The wound was, in fact, not healed, no; it was transferred to the prince. When the star-crossed pair arrived to the medical ship only then did the prince relinquish control of his princess, and only because he could no longer stay alert. The prince and princess were healed in tanks right next to each other, and the prince watched over his princess.
The prince finally was healed only a day before the princess, but he didn't leave the medical wing, the prince stayed by the princess' side, watching over her until she finally did awake. Unfortunately, the prince knew his love for the princess could never be returned, nor should it. He wished her a farewell before riding off into the sunset.
My friend finished the tale with a flourish and a meaningful look directed at me, who the others at the table did not see, nor would they have understood. My men may be loyal, but they were not the smartest bunch in the Imperial Navy.
After hearing the story, I rushed to my quarters and I couldn't help the tear that trailed down my cheek. The saddest love stories always were the tales of two lovers who could never be.
This is un-betaed and I wrote it at 3 in the morning. Sorry for any errors! R&R please!