a/n: you guys are just ... so nice in your reviews. so nice. really, so NICE. so i have to give you more.
Six
In her ample office on the top floor of the Imperial – no, now Republic – Senate building, Mon Mothma watched the live broadcast of an informal press conference with a pinched expression, her teeth clenched together behind closed lips. At various places around the room, others focused on the same screen as her – occasionally, Threkin Horm would make a quiet noise of annoyance.
"This has gotten quite out of hand," Mon Mothma said finally, a graceful sort of edge to her voice.
The holo screen in her office was huge, and the volume was left on low, with subtitles and translations running across the bottom of the screen to aid with keeping up. Seated in the center of a panel that included two representatives from Nemoidia, Senator Pooja Naberrie from Naboo as well as their most recently elected Monarch's, Queen Soruna, and two members of the Banking Clan, Princess Leia was conducting what was supposed to be a question and answer session on the impending singing of a truce treaty between the three entities. The treaty was set to greatly improve trade within the burgeoning New Republic, as it would – hopefully – resolve some long-held grievances amongst the concerned parties.
Of course, there was very little Princess Leia could get done when for every question she received on political logistics, there was one that pertained to her personal life.
She was currently finishing up a statement -
"…so perhaps a precedent can be set in which we stop holding current generations responsible for the actions, however reprehensible, of their forebears, in the effort to constantly progress rather than bog ourselves down in historic slights."
- and the moment she finished, a reporter leapt for the jugular, thrusting a microphone forward.
"Your Highness, we haven't spotted Han Solo by your side in several days – trouble in paradise?"
On screen, Leia's lips tightened and she turned her head pointedly to another reporter, listening for someone who had a question about the treaty. In the office, both General Dodonna and Threkin Horm voiced their opinions:
"How are these unruly gossip rats getting vetted to be at events like this?" Dodonna growled, while Horm's displeasure was of a different vein:
"Of course it's gotten out of hand – she does nothing to dissuade them!" he nearly howled. He thrust a thick hand out towards the screen. "It's as if she enjoys the attention! Her silence is only provoking the fervor."
General Rieekan shot a disbelieving look at Horm.
"She's not provoking them," he said. "She's behaving like any sane politician would – ignoring them!"
"She could at least give a short word to fend them off – "
"Would you have her answer them, Threkin?" Rieekan asked, with a sarcastic little smile. "Tell them – why, yes, Han Solo has been told to stay away, because he leaves his socks on the floor, and it's really very maddening, now please, back to the treaty," he went on, mimicking a female voice. He scoffed. "It doesn't matter if she's silent or divulges everything: they'll want more."
He fell silent, and noticed they were all looking at him with varying levels of – well, either amusement, or surprise, or both.
"What?" he demanded grumpily.
"Your Princess impression needs work," Dodonna said, deadpan. He shook his head slightly, perhaps hiding a small smile, and sighed. "Threkin, a small word from her is what got us into this mess," he reminded the man darkly, thinking back to Leia's glib pronouncement at the Hapan diplomatic gala.
"I'm afraid that was my fault," Mon Mothma said. "I backed her into a corner – I evidently underestimated what I thought was Princess Leia's youthful crush on General Solo."
Rieekan gave a loud snort.
"It was not your fault that Princess Leia chose to make a reckless proclamation," Dodonna said shortly. "She's got more political poise in her finger than the rest of us have in our entire bodies; she did it deliberately."
"To get the government out of her bedroom, Jan," Rieekan said shortly.
"I object to that – "
"There were at least six marriage proposals in diplomatic documents," snapped Rieekan. "Even if Solo wasn't a factor, throwing things like that at her wasn't fair."
"She's the reigning member of the royal family, Carlist, and a damn useful one at that!" Threkin broke in tersely. "She could have made any number of spectacular alliances – you know as well as I do what her duty is to Alderaan – "
"Things are different now," Rieekan said harshly, turning cold eyes on his fellow Alderaanian. "Alderaan no longer exists. I would think that our duty as Alderaanians," he said pointedly, "is to see to it that our Princess, who sacrificed everything but her life for this Republic, is treated like a human rather than a bargaining chip."
Horm closed his mouth with a sharp snap, a scowl taking up residence on his silent face.
Mon Mothma raised her hands at them, shaking her head a little.
"I think Princess Leia did what she felt she had to," she remarked.
"Rashly," stated Dodonna. "I forget how young she is, sometimes – but declaring up that she's having an affair with a mercenary pilot – "
"A commissioned general of this government," Mon Mothma corrected fairly.
"—was a clear indication of her youth, probably coming out because she's had to be an adult for so long. I wonder if we're about to witness a downward spiral, and whether it's wise to keep her in an Ambassadorship."
"I'll thank you to watch your tongue, Jan," Rieekan snapped dangerously. His eyes were cold, turned unforgivingly on his friend. "If anything would crack Leia Organa, it's the disrespect of people she considered her equals and friends."
Dodonna coloured considerably, casting his eyes down. Rieekan watched him swallow somewhat guiltily, and then turned pointedly towards the Chief of State, folding his arms. He sat back in his seat stiffly, triumphant in the silence that fell.
The holonet droned on –
"Yes," Senator Naberrie remarked. "We've agreed to the terms – providing, of course, the Federation follows through with its promise to allow two of our economic advisors on its panel."
"Which is a fair term," Leia jumped on, her hand resting calmingly on the shoulder of a Nemoidian next to her. "In a trade off, the media on Naboo has offered to cease its increasingly demonic portrayal of Cato Nemoidia."
There were some scattered chuckles at Leia's straight-faced remark. One of the Nemoidians answered a question, then deferred a monetary question to one of the Banking Clan; a moment later, a short, attractive blonde reporter's recorder lit up, and she fixed a wicked glance on the Princess.
"Princess, is General Solo off planet? Is he cracking under the pressure of being outshined by you?"
This time, Leia spared a quick glance for the question.
"This conversation is about trade treaties, Ms. Lufthata," she said crisply, noting the reporter's name. "Adjust your questions accordingly."
Rieekan laughed.
"Princess, Princess Leia! Why don't you ever want to talk about Han Solo?"
"Are you ashamed of slumming, Princess?"
Rieekan's smile faded immediately.
"Oh," Mon Mothma sighed, putting her hands to her forehead. "Wonderful," she murmured, and perhaps even swore uncharacteristically – but it was done so quietly, no one could be sure.
"What?" Threkin asked, somewhat lamely, looking between them all – Dodonna looked considerably alarmed.
Leia had fixed a frozen look on whoever had asked the last question.
"Pardon me?" she asked with feigned politeness.
The being, a particularly seedy looking reporter, grinned slyly.
"I wondered if you're embarrassed to be debasing yourself with the kind of smuggler scum Solo was known to be – he was kicked out of the Aademy – "
"The Rebellion that brought you this free and equal government was comprised of scoundrels, outcasts, and outlaws, Sir," she interrupted icily. "It's due to the action of an unlikely band of rule-breakers that you have had the right to free speech restored to you – however low and unintelligent that speech may be."
Threkin nearly choked on his tongue.
"Has she lost her mind?" he hissed.
Rieekan held up his hand.
"I doubt there are many beings here who fault General Solo for being so incompatible with the ruthless, oppressive agenda of the Imperial Academy that he was ejected from," she continued, "and as a citizen of a Republic that hopes to eradicate the suffocating culture of elitism the Empire let flourish, I will not have it said that recognizing General Solo as a partner is debasement."
Camera flashes exploded, and several voices started shouting for Leia to confirm this, deny that, etc. – the envoy from Naboo shot Leia a look that was somewhere between miserable and overwhelmed, and Leia stood up, holding her hands for silence.
"My presence here is not conducive to the point," she said shortly. She inclined her head at the Queen of Naboo. "I'll turn my place of neutrality to Queen Soruna's envoy."
Mon Mothma watched as took an unprecedented exit from her post at the conference, and grit her teeth together – of all the questions they could have asked, someone picked the single one that would test Leia's self-control. She'd remain stoic through many a squirm-worthy personal interrogation, but question Han Solo's suitability and – as Mon knew from personal experience – she got a mouth on her faster than Solo could make the Kessel run.
Threkin spluttered.
"She can't just walk out of a negotiation – "
"It's a press conference," Dodonna said dully. He hesitated a moment. "I'm not sure I blame her."
Rieekan made a noise of agreement, and Mon Mothma sat back in her chair.
"Too far," she murmured to herself, and then looked about the room. "Something has to be done about this," she said tiredly.
"I second that," Threkin groused. "Regardless of how serious Her Highness thinks she is about General Solo, there must be a way to hasten the inevitable end – "
"That is not what I meant, Councilor Horm," Mon Mothma interrupted shortly. She gave him a warning look. "I mean we cannot have our political messages, or Princess Leia, held hostage to the press's invasive interest in these shallow, personal interest stories."
"Putting a stop to this involvement with Solo would fix that," Horm said pointedly. "I doubt it would take much digging into Solo's past to produce some unsavory detail that would cure Her Highness's fixation – "
"Threkin," Dodonna broke in, arching his eyebrows. "You're going a bit too far yourself."
"I'm thinkin of the greater good here! It's more than a matter of press interest – that will fade, the longer they're in the public eye, but is Solo someone we really want at her side if she holds more powerful positions in the future?"
"You want to sit around a campfire and plot an illicit plan to break up Han and Leia?" Rieekan asked sarcastically.
"I wouldn't quite put it that way, Carlist," growled Horm.
"How would you put it?"
"Gentlemen," Mon Mothma said harshly. "Calm yourselves – Councilor Horm, re-think your words," she said, eyeing him slightly distastefully.
"You said it yourself, Madam Chief; she's got to come to her senses soon and realize how unlikely this is – "
"Regardless of my personal outlook," Mon Mothma said, raising her voice, interrupting again. "I will not engage in a course of action that deliberately hurts Princess Leia," she told him firmly. "I have a great deal of respect and love for her. I trust her to control her own life." She paused, and glanced at the two generals in the room. "I believe Jan agrees with me," she said, "and I know Carlist does."
Rieekan gave a pointed nod, and Jan gave a tight one – he wasn't as enthusiastic, but like Mon Mothma, he did care for Princess Leia's well-being, and he was not a cruel man. A traditional one, with easily rattled sensibilities and perhaps a damaging amount of respect for the old stratified social order, but not a cruel one.
"I would rather focus my attention on determining how we can deflect media attention off of them," she sighed.
For what it was worth, Mon Mothma was feeling guilty of late for the way she'd presumed Leia was amenable to an arranged marriage – and for her poor reaction to the notion of Leia having made a select few decisions that were personal and passionate, rather than collected and strategic. She may be reeling from finding out the relationship between Leia and Han was more than a rumor, more than platonic, and definitely more than serious, but as she tried to wrap her head around it, she didn't want to drive Leia away or hurt her. Princess Leia was an invaluable mind and an asset to them all; beyond that, she was a revolutionary who had given more than her share to the cause, and she deserved some spoils of war for it.
If she chose Han Solo as her prize, then so be it.
"Well," Rieekan said flatly, "if Han returns with surviving Alderaanians, that's going to draw a lot of media." He paused a moment. "Unfortunately, it keeps Leia in the spotlight."
Mon Mothma was thoughtful a moment. She turned to Dodonna.
"Jan, I think it might be best if we find a project for her that isn't so public," she began. "Use her intelligence and insight in a different way. She might be relieved to get out from under scrutiny for a while, and we could wean the public off their salacious interests."
Dodonna nodded thoughtfully.
"There are still millions of political records that need to be reconstructed and analyzed," he grunted. "Things from the Old Republic, things the Imperials redacted about their own practices," he listed. "She could be extremely useful at the War Crimes trials, too. She's got no legal background, but most of those are high-profile, and closed to all but the most respected and venerated of the press, so she won't be bothered."
"Carlist?" Mon Mothma asked.
He hesitated.
"Not bad ideas," he remarked, hesitantly.
"But?" Horm prompted.
"But," Carlist repeated, oscillating within himself for a moment. He rubbed his jaw. "I don't know if we want Princess Leia holed up in closed court proceedings about torture for hours at a time," he said finally, his voice dry. Before anyone could say anything, he cleared his throat. "Not if you're worried about that, er, downward spiral."
"Hmm," Dodonna mumbled heavily. "That's – ah, Sith," he swore tightly. He figured Rieekan was right – they'd all been present on Yavin in the aftermath of the Death Star; the kind of treatment Princess Leia had received at the hands of the Empire was the sort that left lasting scars deep beneath the skin, imbedded on the psyche.
"Well, we'll run some options by her," Mon Mothma said carefully. "I'll consult with her about where her head is on the subject."
"As long as we're doing something to keep this downplayed," Threkin griped suddenly. "I'm sick of having to hear about her involvement with the bastard," he muttered.
He was duly ignored by his peers – even Dodonna, whom he'd thought to be the most on his side, when it came to derision of Han Solo.
"And we might need to call the Nemoidians and the Naboo to a second meeting, just to ensure they know we aren't making fun of them, or making light of the situation," Mon Mothma said dryly. "Shouldn't be a problem for the Naboo - I believe Princess Leia was rather good friends with Pooja Naberrie in the Imperial Senate. The Nemoidians, however, need to be coddled."
"Good idea," Dodonna remarked mildly. "Those Nemoidians can get – jumpy."
Rieekan snorted.
"Diplomatic way of putting it," he muttered. He considered Mon Mothma for a moment. "You know, you might also advise the Princess to devote the majority of her time to the Alderaanian Council," he suggested. "For the time being. There's plenty that could be handled there – and Skywalker is interested in her assisting with his re-establishment of the Jedi order."
"She's not going to do that," Mon Mothma said flatly.
Dodonna looked surprised.
"She's told us of her familial relationship to Luke, and if she's Force sensitive, it's something she'd be interested in. Bail Organa revered the Jedi. He fought with them."
"Princess Leia has no intention of revealing her connection to Luke publicly," Mon Mothma retorted in that same flat, decisive tone. "She won't associate with the Skywalker name. Not now; perhaps not ever."
Her three companions looked at her curiously, and Mon Mothma gave a small shrug – she alone among them knew the reason behind Luke and Leia's separation all those years ago; she knew Anakin Skywalker had been their father, and she, unlike most of the world, knew Anakin Skywalker's ultimate fate. The emergence of Darth Vader had been mythical, mysterious; suddenly, the dark figure at the emperor's side was unquestionable, but for those who had worked closely with Obi-wan Kenobi and Padme Amidala in the early days of disaster, things were clearer.
When Leia confessed after the Battle of Endor that Luke was her brother, Mon Mothma had been forced to confirm it, and to then pry for what else Luke had revealed. Leia had mentioned Vader only when she was sure Mon Mothma already knew. Hearing Mon Mothma agree that Anakin Skywalker had been her father, and had indeed become Darth Vader, had nearly destroyed Leia, and Mon Mothma was quite sure that the Princess would endure her life with Captain Solo being made into a reality holo-show rather than connect herself with the Jedi and the Force – with anything that might reveal her background to the public.
For now, at least. For now, while the whole Galaxy, due to the Empire's meticulous re-writing of history and destruction of records, knew nearly nothing of the connection of Anakin to Vader – knew nearly nothing of Anakin at all. Rieekan, Dodonna, and especially Thorm, had no business currently knowing about that – especially not when the latter two of them couldn't even handle her relationship with Solo. And Solo, to Mon Mothma's knowledge, had never had a twenty-year long homicidal episode that resulted in galactic enslavement.
"Keep Leia in the political and social arena," Mon Mothma said with finality. "Leave the new Jedi Order to Luke. He's the right sort of man to go about that. He's – "
How his father could have been, she'd been about to say. She stopped herself, simply closing her mouth instead. Luke Skywalker's honor spoke for him; there was no need for her to go on, or to go about putting her foot in her mouth. She often tried not to dwell on the past – and she did have a deep aversion to thinking of Leia as a Skywalker.
After all, Skywalkers in love were dangerous things.
"I don't think she was wrong for walking out like that," Rieekan said finally, his jaw set stubbornly. "The woman can only remain stoic for so long."
"Let's hope she gets used to the issue soon," Dodonna sighed tiredly. "We do need her, politically, and I hope they don't wear her down. This isn't the kind of media attention she got when she was a Senator," he remembered.
Rieekan nodded – he remembered, too; Leia had been the darling of the media back then, no matter how much the Empire tried to besmirch and threaten her. This circus though – it was all lust, a sort of macabre interest in anything but her politics.
Unexpectedly, Threkin Horm spoke up:
"They won't wear her down," he said, flicking his eyes at the ongoing press conference, where the Naboo were still talking. "You're all talking like she can be broken somehow. Have you met her?" he added sarcastically.
Though Horm said it because, deep down, he was still scowling over her relationship with Solo, and her refusal to deny it or cease it, it was high praise coming from him, with his stuffy opinions on how royalty should look and act. Mon Mothma nodded, wholly agreeing, and Dodonna smiled a little.
"It's even good that they think she's kicked him off planet, or is fighting with him," Rieekan snorted, attempting to lighten the air. "It at least means the press hasn't gotten ahold of the Alderaanian intelligence."
"And on that note," Mon Mothma said swiftly, "we can move from discussing the media's obsession with Leia, to an assessment of how to address Viceroy Organa's return if it occurs – Threkin, can you comm Tyr Taskeen and tell him I'm ready for his report on Solo's trajectory…"
She shifted subjects quickly, settling Leia's personal life somewhere in the back of her mind, and focused on the brief that told her Han Solo was en route safely, and no indications of foul play were popping up yet – a good thing, though it brooked a daunting prospect, and it was another thing that, in time, might just be more for the Princess to bear on her very strained shoulders.
Slightly disheveled and definitely in need of a shower, Luke Skywalker was grumpy as he ducked into the hanger that housed the Millennium Falcon. He had been looking for Leia for what felt like hours – though it was probably only half an hour, he was just so tired – when he finally figured she might be down on the ship. He'd thought it was too early in the morning for her to be up and about, and it was a weekend, so he thought she'd be sleeping in. He'd been wrong on both counts, but then he hadn't been able to find her doing work, either.
If he didn't find her here, he'd decided he was going to go tell someone she'd been kidnapped, because he had no clue where else on the whole of Coruscant Princess Leia would hang out.
"Chewbacca?" he called, stifling a yawn and rapping his knuckles on the ship as he stood at the ramp. "Chewie?"
He heard a muffled growl, and strode aboard, looking around. He checked the cockpit, and then went through the main hold. He kept looking until he found Chewbacca peering out of a gun turret – he looked extremely uncomfortable, and impossibly too big for the space, and he had tools in his paws.
[Morning, Luke.] He greeted pleasantly.
"Morning. Repairs?" Luke asked, arching a brow.
[Modifications,] Chewie grunted. [New weapon configuration.]
"What kind?"
[Err…do you want deniability?]
Luke laughed. Of course Chewie was up to something slightly less than legal with the modifications – old habits died very hard. He didn't press, and decided he'd rib Han about it later, maybe threaten to tell Leia if he wanted a little friendly game of blackmail. Han responded really well to blackmail, even over extremely silly things. It probably came from years of living just under the law, and not ever wanting to get caught unawares.
"I was, uh, kind of wondering if you know where Leia is? I know Han ordered you to watch over her," Luke said.
[Yes,] Chewbacca growled mildly. He gestured, tilting his head. [She's in the cabin.]
He said it so simply, as if it were obvious. His dark brows wriggled, and he looked at Luke curiously, rumbling something softly. Luke frowned.
"What do you mean, I should have known?" he asked.
[She's been sleeping here since he left; you hadn't noticed?]
"I've been at the ruins of the Jedi temple for three days," Luke muttered – he'd had lunch with Leia twice, but he hadn't been over to her place at night. Coruscant was quieter at night, and he mediated better in the dark – which is why he'd been holed up there for a while. He frowned again. "Is she asleep now?"
[No, she's awake,] Chewbacca answered. He paused. [Just knock first. She might…not…be wearing…clothes.]
Amused, Luke raised his eyebrows.
"You telling me from personal experience?" he snorted.
Chewbacca growled something, snuffled at Luke dryly, and then popped back down into the turret, rumbling a few annoyed words as an afterthought. Luke grinned, shaking his head as he turned. He made his way to the crew quarters and stopped outside the cabin door, peering at it. It wasn't completely shut – but he knocked anyway.
He heard a muffled voice tell him it was okay to come in.
"I'm really not mad at you, Chewbacca," she started saying, as he pushed the door open. "I should have locked – oh, Luke," she broke off.
He left the door half-open as he strode in. Leia was clearly not up and about for the day – in fact, she was laying amongst the sheets on Han's bed, surrounded by pillows, a loose white v-neck shirt hanging on her. She sat up a little when he walked in, and he noticed her cheeks flush.
"Never mind what I was saying," she said lightly.
"Chewie already told me."
She rolled her eyes and dropped back down on the bed, shifting onto her back. She looked up at the ceiling and drew one knee up, running her hand over it edgily – well; she'd put clothing on after Chewie walked in. One of Han's older shirts, and a pair of shorts she'd left here from some trip that had occurred after Bespin.
After a moment, she sat up, pushing her tangled hair back. She didn't make a move to get off the bed, but she rubbed her eyes a moment to force herself to be more alert, and then looked at Luke somewhat grimly.
"Does someone need me for something?" she asked warily.
Luke shrugged.
"No," he said. "I thought you'd be up – I thought we might get breakfast."
Leia blinked at him.
"Why do you look like you've slept in a dumpster?" she asked bluntly.
Affronted, Luke glanced down at his wrinkled robes, and reached up to touch his distinctly mussed hair. He scowled, and folded his arms self-consciously.
"It's not that bad," he groused. "I've been – I was at the old Temple, meditating. Searching through records. Everything is so fried…" he muttered.
"I don't know why you keep trying," Leia sighed. "Surely there are records of the Jedi elsewhere – "
"Not that I know of," he said grimly. "Nothing so extensive as what I would find there," he added. He looked around, spotted the chair over by Han's desk, and yanked it forward, turning it and sitting down on it backwards, so he could lean forward and rest his arms on the high back. "And there is some interesting stuff. There are old runes in some of the ruins. I just have to figure them out."
"Hmm," Leia murmured, a noise that could only be called noncommittal.
Luke rested his chin on his wrists.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Leia cocked her head curiously. Her brow furrowed.
"Why not?"
"You have an apartment," Luke pointed out. "Which is where I thought you'd been sleeping. Until Chewie told me otherwise."
Leia considered him a moment, and sighed. She shifted, and leaned back against the wall, drawing a blanket around her shoulders and letting it hang there loosely. She crossed her legs and combed her hair over her shoulder, debating how honest to be with him. Though she frowned to herself, she decided there was no harm in showing some weakness to Luke.
"I don't sleep very well when Han isn't around," she said, keeping her tone even. "Knowing he's on a risky mission doesn't make it better," she noted. "This place smells like him. It's comforting."
"Doesn't your place smell like him?" Luke asked. He smirked. "I know you keep mum around the holoreporters, but he is living there," he pointed out.
Leia smiled softly.
"Not like this place does," she murmured.
The Falcon had been Han's so long that it was infused with him; even the cockpit was comforting. Hell, hearing Chewie swearing and banging around was comforting – it made her feel like Han was just around the corner, yelling at him about something. Not to mention that reporters spent so much time staking out areas around her apartment, they tended to forget to stalk to Falcon. So for the past few mornings, she'd been able to sneak into work without facing a ton of flashing bulbs and provocative questions.
"Any word?" Luke asked.
Leia shrugged.
"He's on radio silence," she murmured. "The best option for preservation of secrecy," she noted. "Tyr Taskeen monitors his flight path – no invasive objects, no altercations, no lost signal," she listed. "I assume he's doing fine."
"And the distress seal? Has it reappeared yet?"
Leia just shook her head silently – no. And she'd feel a lot more confident if it could come back, if it would reappear and prove there was really a reason for everyone to be out of sorts, for Han to think he so definitively had to go off and do this when it was starting to look so much like one big mistake –
She compressed her lips, and shivered slightly, shaking away the thoughts.
"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" she asked.
"Huh?"
"At breakfast," she prompted, arching a brow.
"Oh," he said, shifting his chin slightly. He chewed his lip for a moment, kind of debating her mood. "Well, no, not particularly," he said, equivocating on whether or not to bring it up. "I just wondered – "
"Spit it out, Luke."
"If you had any interest in researching who our mother was," Luke said in a rush, complying with her order.
Leia narrowed her eyes at him slightly. She didn't say anything for a moment.
"Our mother?" she asked finally.
Luke sighed nervously, and then groaned.
"Look, Leia, I know you hate me bringing up our fa – Vader," he corrected sharply, though it personally pained him to call Anakin Skywalker that, after the effort it had taken to turn him back. "But that doesn't change the fact that we have a history to understand, and that might be beneficial for anything we face in the future."
Leia remained silent, and Luke fidgeted, finally clearing his throat again.
"I'm not sitting around coming up with ways to get under your skin; I just have a hard time believing you're not curious – "
"I am curious," she interrupted suddenly.
He fell silent, his jaw slack. He raised his eyebrows.
"You are?"
She lifted her shoulders lightly.
"I was always…curious, somewhat, about where I came from," she said quietly. "I think all adopted children are. It's just that I had something so wonderful on Alderaan, with my parents," she said softly. "I think the happier adopted children are with their life, the less they care."
Implied in her comment was the fact that she especially ceased to care when she found out she was Darth Vader's progeny. Luke gave her half a smile – it was easier for her; she'd never heard a single thing mentioned about her parents. But Luke, Luke had grown up with his uncle, with relatives; it had been a strange mix of unanswered questions and off the cuff comments – sometimes, Uncle Owen got into his cups and said things that made Luke wonder.
He never mentioned a mother, though. He just said he'd met her once. 'Some woman from Coruscant' Owen had said, and Aunt Beru had added that she was extremely beautiful, with very intimidating poise. Luke had scoured the records of Coruscant for mentions of Anakin Skywalker and a fellow Jedi, rumors of his affair with anyone – and had found nothing. Records were so scarce –
"Do you have any idea where we should start?" Luke asked.
Leia gave him a dry look.
"I think Mon Mothma knows who she was," she said.
Luke's eyes widened.
"What?" he gasped. "You – how? And why hasn't she – what?" he spluttered.
"She knew about Vader," Leia said heavily. "I was talking to her about you, quite a while ago. I could tell from the look in her eye – well, I got it out of her; she knew."
Luke stared at her in disbelief.
"And she never mentioned our mother?"
"I didn't ask," Leia said. She suddenly looked confused, even angry with herself. "It didn't even occur to me," she said slowly. Then, she looked up, and her jaw hardened. "Because – why should I care, now that I know who he was?" she demanded. "Do I want to hear about the renegade female Jedi who thought a Sith would be a good – "
"Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?" Luke broke in angrily. "We don't even know if she was in the Jedi order with him! It could have been a civilian, a childhood friend – "
"A slave, a prostitute, a woman he raped on the street," Leia finished angrily.
Luke glared at her in shock, and then shook his head.
"You can think that if you want, but don't wish that on me," he growled. "I like to imagine a mother who loved me."
She looked at him fiercely for a moment, and then she looked away, wincing heavily. She lowered her chin and stared down at the sheets around her, wishing she hadn't been so short with him. She wished she had Luke's capacity for forgiveness, or his optimism.
"You're the one who said you remembered your real mother," Luke ventured quietly. "On Endor. You said – "
"I know what I said," Leia said, still not looking at him. She licked her lips. She shook her head. "I said it to comfort you," she said. She paused. "If I think, very hard, as far back as I can remember, when my life is only images and colours, all I feel is incredible pain," she confessed softly. "Deep, penetrating, despair. I don't know if that's our mother, or if it's my early feelings being separated from her."
Luke stared at her, silent. He was always so overwhelmed by Leia's Force ability – where his was so physical, so tangible, easily manifested in fighting, gymnastics, manipulations of the corporeal, hers was ethereal in a sense – it no doubt contributed to her natural born political skill. If he thought back as far as he could feel and remember, he was three years old and Aunt Beru was shouting at him through tears because he'd run too far off the property, and she was afraid Sand People had taken him. For Leia to feel moments so far back she was barely able to fathom real thought – it made his head spin.
To hear that she thought that kind of crushing depression came from their mother made him feel cold all over – he tried to convince himself the latter part was right, it was her then-infantile instinct to grieve the loss of her natural mother, but the truth was, he couldn't be sure. He didn't know if he and Leia were products of Anakin Skywalker before his fall – or after. He didn't know when the machine had taken the man.
There was so much he – they – didn't know.
"Have you thought about asking Mon Mothma?" he asked, swallowing hard.
Leia shook her head.
Luke sighed heavily.
"You know, Leia," he started, a bit grouchy. "I understand your aversion to the whole thing, but you might consider getting information for me," he pointed out.
"Don't you think it's remarkably telling that she didn't immediately divulge her identity?" Leia asked. Her face was unapologetic. She almost sneered. "I can't imagine the truth about her would be worse than Vader but," she paused pointedly, "reality often exceeds the darkest of my imaginings," she said bitterly.
Luke looked away for a moment, drawing on the Force to remain level-headed. When he composed himself slightly – he didn't want to create tension between himself and Leia, and especially not when she had enough on her plate with Alderaan and Han – he turned back to her.
"I think she must have been in the Order with him," he said carefully. "My theory – well, it just seems to fit. The Jedi were allowed no attachment – no family. They were supposed to work for the good of the citizens alone. If two Jedi became involved, and the pressures of secrecy combined with children, and the kind of stress love itself is," he trailed off. "Well, I suppose I can see how he could have been swallowed."
Leia turned to him. She leaned forward slightly, her lips pursed.
"You think love is a path to the dark side?" she asked hoarsely, her eyes widening slightly.
Luke hesitated.
"Not love itself," he said slowly. "Obsessive love. Selfish love." He looked at her pleadingly. "There had to be a reason the Jedi forbade marriages and families."
Leia considered him silently.
"In the early days of Alderaanian religion, the churches required celibacy," she said grimly. "It eventually led to a culture of repression and abuse."
Luke held out a hand, palm up, as if to underscore his point.
"Maybe our parents were just trying to do what's natural."
Leia didn't say anything. She still didn't see how it meshed – an illicit affair going so badly that one half of the couple became the right hand man of the most atrocious dictator the galaxy had ever seen? What was the impetus for that, what was the end game?
"You don't imagine she's still alive, do you?" Luke ventured.
"No," Leia said abruptly – and immediately.
He looked surprised.
"You feel that?" he questioned.
"Not necessarily," Leia responded. She pushed some of her hair back. "But if she had survived, hidden like us, what would stop her from showing herself now that he's gone?" she asked. She shook her head dismissively. "Whoever she was, she's dead. Vader probably hunted her down looking for us."
"He didn't know about us," Luke corrected. "And even when he knew about me, he didn't know about you until the very last."
Leia took that with mild surprise, but she looked down, tugging at the blanket around her shoulders. She leaned back a little more heavily against the wall and shrugged. She sighed tiredly.
"We had good mothers, Luke, you and I," she reminded him edgily. "My curiosity is present I'm just – "
"Afraid," Luke finished, sensing it.
She nodded, closing her mouth tightly. He frowned.
"You had parents," he told her. "I had an aunt and uncle."
"They were your parents; they raised you. They loved you," she said firmly. "Adoptive parents are the same – "
"No, Leia, you don't understand," Luke said flatly. "Aunt Beru, maybe – she couldn't have children of her own, and she desperately cared for me, but I never called them mother and father. And Uncle Owen – he cared about me. But not like a parent does," he tried to explain, brow furrowing. "He cared about … keeping me safe, and out of trouble." Luke was thoughtful for a moment. "The more I think about it, the more I think he knew about Vader. He was…scared of me."
Leia didn't say what she was thinking – can you blame him? Owen Lars was probably walking around wondering if Darth Vader would suddenly sense Luke's presence, and show up to devastate his life. Or at the very least – wondering what he'd have on his hands if he ever pissed Luke off.
"Well," Leia said delicately. "I was raised to be a figurehead and a weapon," she told him.
"The milk is bluer on the other table, eh?" Luke snorted.
"Perhaps Death Star Day Care would have served us better."
Luke almost fell off his chair.
"Was that a joke?" he spluttered. "You made a joke?" he demanded.
He saw the subtle grin in her eyes, and shook his head, re-situating himself on the chair. He didn't want to press the issue – but Leia making jokes about Darth Vader, however dark and macabre they were, was definitely a step forward to – something. It was a step forward to something.
She smiled at him and shrugged a little. She surprised herself sometimes. Luke sobered a little, and shifted a little, looking at her earnestly.
"So if I pursue – our mother, instead of badgering you about the Force, and our fa – Vader," he began slowly. "Can I have your blessing? Can I come to you about it?"
She pushed her hair back again, and very carefully, gave him a nod. He looked relieved, and determined – he kept it to himself, but he thought if he could find anything about their mother, providing it wasn't something sinister, it might end up swaying Leia to try to understand the complexities of Vader. A long shot, for sure, but possible.
"Okay, well," Luke said, taking a deep breath. "In that case, I was wondering if you had a second name."
Leia looked slightly suspicious.
"If you did, I thought it might give some clues. I don't have one," he continued.
She hesitated a moment.
"I do," she answered finally. "But my birth mother didn't give it to me; my father did."
"What is it?" Luke asked.
"Amidala," she said.
Luke looked interested.
"That's not Alderaanian, is it? Your people have traditionally one or two syllable names," Luke murmured. "I wonder what the origin is," he mused.
"It's traditional among the Naboo, actually," Leia offered.
Luke frowned.
"How do you know?"
"Well, aside from the fact that I'm well versed in political history of key planets," Leia said, somewhat dryly, "My aunt told me once. She said," Leia paused, a distasteful look crossing her face. "She said Father chose it to honor a friend of his from the Senate." Leia tilted her head. "Actually, she said it was a hideous name. She was completely convinced Father had an affair with the woman, and then hushed up the pregnancy and brought me home to Mother for consolation."
Leia still remembered Aunt Celly's pinched expression when she was teaching Leia the proper penmanship for a court signature, how she'd looked when she helped her spell Amidala. Of course, it wasn't until much later that Leia discovered Celly was always of the opinion that her brother had been unfaithful to his wife when he'd so conveniently showed up with a baby, and even that was only through servant's gossip. She'd even entertained the idea herself – until Luke's revelation.
Grimly, she wished she was the product of infidelity.
Luke looked mildly amused.
"What a scandal," he remarked.
"It would have been, but it also would have explained the easy acceptance of an adopted heir," she mused. "Illegitimate is better than nonexistent. But Alderaan valued the mind of the ruler more than the bloodline. The succession was left alone, unless an heir seemed unsuitable." She stopped a moment. "If he or she was unsuitable, we elected a member from one of the aristocratic houses."
Leia fell silent quickly – she always felt so emotionally exhausted, discussing Alderaan. Any memory of it, any thoughts that lingered for too long – they just weighed on her so heavily.
"But, that's not what happened," Luke said logically. "So – did you know the senator he named you after? You grew up around politics, right?"
"I didn't know her," Leia said faintly. "If memory serves correctly, she was a former Queen of Naboo," she said slowly, her expression distant. "She was murdered during the Clone Wars. Actually, I think she was my friend Pooja's aunt. Or perhaps her mother?"
Luke listened to her talk, fascinated. When she trailed off, he noticed a perturbed expression on her face, and he wondered what she was thinking. He reached out, and she rebuffed him. After a moment, she spoke:
"I only asked Father about the second name once," she said softly, "and he told me Senator Amidala was murdered for resisting Imperial rule, and I should be proud of that." She was certain he'd also spoken harshly to Celly afterwards.
Luke cocked his head.
"Leia?" he asked, sensing she was mulling something over.
"Nothing," she said, almost sharply. She turned her dark eyes on him. "Luke, don't you think it would be better to find the planetary origin of our first names? They were the ones chosen by her – whoever she was."
Luke, still a little caught up in Leia's moment of reflection, took a moment to respond.
"Oh," he muttered. "Oh – yes, I suppose," he agreed. "They're so simple, though. Innocuous, even. Maybe purposely," he ventured. "Vague by design," he went on quietly. "I kept the surname, though, and you didn't. I thought maybe I'd find more scattered clues about our identity through your second name, so maybe I'll look on Naboo – '
"Yes," Leia said flatly. "Go looking there. Emperor Palpatine originated as the senator from Naboo. Please let me know if you discover he's a great uncle, or perhaps our grandfather," she said caustically.
She suddenly felt hostile to the whole idea of family.
"I've had enough of this," she told him with finality, an edge of stress to her voice.
She looked away. She felt shaky suddenly; she felt like she'd figured something out, but she wasn't sure what. It was akin to the feeling of – calm, nothing but calm acceptance, that she'd felt when Luke told her they were siblings. She'd been shocked in a superficial sense, but so content with the information and sure of it on a deeper level – and right now, she didn't want to address where that feeling might be coming from.
She was beginning to wonder if her lack of curiosity about her origins had been because she was so loved and happy on Alderaan, or if she'd been deliberately manipulated away from any search, if any burgeoning interest had been nipped in the bud with a carefully placed story.
Leia swallowed hard, and sat forward, the blankets falling from her shoulders.
"I should get up and about," she murmured firmly. "Sleeping here is one thing; dwelling in Han's bed every waking moment of my free time is unhealthy," she noted.
"He's going to be fine, Leia," Luke said, nodding his head for emphasis.
She hesitated, swinging her legs off the bunk. She pointed her toes towards the floor, gripping the side of the bed with white knuckles.
"Can you see it?" she asked softly, barely a whisper. "You saw our distress on Bespin – can you see his future now?"
Luke shook his head.
"I'm not that powerful," he said. "And seeing isn't my particular strength – I often misinterpret visions," he added, a bit dejectedly. "But if it helps, when I do extend my mind, I don't feel any pressing sense of disaster in your future."
"It doesn't help if you misinterpret things," Leia snorted pointedly.
She shook her head, setting her shoulders back stiffly.
"Start thinking more optimistically," Luke advised earnestly. "Wonder what you'll do if you see Bail Organa again – imagine Han – "
She was shaking her head, and he knew his attempts at levity, at encouragement, were failing.
"Don't, Luke."
"Even now, you don't believe it?" he asked, exasperated. "With a scout mission on their way to the Alderaan system at this very moment, you don't have hope?"
"I can't, Luke," she said hoarsely. "I can't."
Not yet. Not until Han was back beside her, stealing her covers, hoarding pillows, cracking wise-ass jokes while she was trying to work – greeting her in the morning with a kiss, staying up to keep her company when she couldn't sleep - she couldn't envision the future, and she couldn't let hope in the face of impossible odds buoy her emotions.
She couldn't. Not yet.
The fallout in the face of a letdown would destroy her.
There was a startling knock on the door, and Chewbacca poked his head in the cabin, raising a palm in greeting and growling a soft apology for interrupting.
[You two hungry?] he asked hopefully.
Luke grinned at him.
"Perfect timing, Chewie, you read my mind," he said. He glanced at Leia. "How about that breakfast?" he asked.
Still perched on the edge of the bunk in Han's shirt, she looked between them, needing something to occupy her off day. She inclined her head in a nod, and Luke got up, haphazardly swinging Han's chair back where it belonged. Chewbacca eyed her a moment, and then tilted his head with concern.
"I'm alright, Chewie," she said, intuitively answering his unspoken question.
He hummed at her encouragingly, and beckoned, clearly eager to get some food – Leia didn't say anything, but she was fairly sure Chewbacca felt as restless without Han around as she did. The kind of love they missed him with was different, naturally, but when it got down to it, they both had sworn him a life debt – and they would both be on edge until he was back.
apologies for the lack of Han this chapter - he's prominent in the next!
-alexandra