(A/N) Hi! Bet you thought I died or something... SORRY. I don't have an excuse except that I'm a terrible person and also my laptop is giving me crap about literally everything. So I have to use my desktop from now on, which is weird because all my files are on my laptop...
ANYWAY. Because I feel so awful about it being so long, I combined chapters 9 and 10 into one MEGA chapter! :) (5,000 words is a chapter record for me- y'all should be grateful!)
So, without further ado...
ENJOY! :D
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A New Promise
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Chapter 9
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Leia thought things were going pretty well on Alderaan. Of course, there was that nagging, pulling, sick feeling in her gut that her parents were in danger. But other than that, staying in the royal palace wasn't exactly torture. They had a good place to rest, beds if they wanted to sleep, all the food they could eat, and a warm place to stay, not to mention the changes of clothes they'd been provided with. Upon feeling the fine fabrics, Cordé exclaimed, "They feel like clouds!" Indeed they did. Their old handwoven attire was a far cry from the silks and cashmeres of this planet.
But all three siblings knew, without a doubt, they couldn't stay on Alderaan for long.
"I don't know why," Leia admitted to her brother that afternoon, "but the Force is telling me to leave."
Luke nodded. "I feel it too. I don't think we should stay longer than another day or two."
They discussed matters with Bail, who agreed. "I may not be Force-sensitive," he sighed, "but it's a good idea. Your parents need you, in one way or another."
"All they said was to come here." Luke shook his head. "What were they thinking?"
"They thought you would be much younger, most likely . . . Have you thought about leaving Cordé with us? She would be safe."
Leia's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought about that."
"No," Luke insisted. "Father said that we needed to stay together, no matter what. I'm inclined to agree with him."
Bail nodded. "Alright, then I know what you need to do." He called Rahya and Cordé to the sitting room, checked the halls, closed and locked the doors, then seated himself in front of them. "Have you heard of the Rebellion?"
"Of course," Leia answered. "I don't know much, but we've heard some."
"I have contacts," Bail murmured. "I am one of the leading members, and my friend, Mon Mothma, is in charge of the rest. You will need to know these names, so please pay attention. General Nadeen and Admiral Ackbar are good, honest people. They knew your mother, and will help you." He beckoned to his daughter, who sat beside him. "Rahya."
She nodded.
"I trust you with my life. Don't let me down."
"I won't, Father."
The king glanced back up. "Rahya will take you to the Rebel base. She will assist you with anything you need, and help wherever she can. Obi-Wan and Padmé are valued, and we will do everything we can to get them back. I would go, myself, but my people are uneasy, and I think it best if I stayed to lead them." He stood again. "I will prepare what you need for your trip. When do you plan to leave?"
The three siblings glanced at each other, communicating silently.
"Tomorrow," Leia decided. "We'll rest and eat, then leave as soon as possible."
Bail nodded.
The evening turned to night, which fell into pitch blackness. Leia tossed and turned. The bed was too wide, too soft, and the room was too big. Tiny pinpricks of light streamed in from every crack. In their home on Dantooine, the only source of light at night was Father's tiny lamp, and the moons.
She missed Dantooine. She'd always wondered what it would be like to travel. As a child, the stars excited and frightened her. Mother had tried to explain how huge they were, and that each one had a system of planets. Of course, Leia didn't believe her, but the idea of seeing them anyway was enough to start her thinking about ways to leave when she was old enough.
. . . Then she became old enough. When she turned eighteen, her ties to her parents were, legally, gone. She could go anywhere, do anything, without fear of repercussions.
But she didn't want to.
With all the talk of Luke leaving, she realized that she had never expressed her thoughts. She realized that her family didn't expect her to stay, they needed her to stay. In a way, she sensed that, subconsciously, and decided that if she stayed, then Luke should, too. It would kill her to have her twin gone, and she didn't want to live on Dantooine without him . . . but she wanted to live on Dantooine. She wanted to take care of her parents as they aged, and she wanted to be around for Cordé as she grew up.
But most of all, she realized that she wanted to raise a family there.
Up until around age seventeen, she'd been convinced that she never wanted to have children, or even marry. Every time she went to the village, all the rude men discouraged her from ever wanting to be associated with one.
"You'll find a good, kind one soon. Just give it time," her mother had encouraged her. But Leia didn't think so. She wished she could find a young man who had the values and integrity of her father. But on Dantooine, that would be the same as finding a needle in a haystack.
But her feelings changed on the matter as she matured.
Now she really realized, for the first time, how much she missed Dantooine. She missed her parents. She missed Tahyo and Brigit. She missed the safety her little home provided.
A feeling in her gut interrupted her thoughts. She grinned. It was the Force, being prodded gently around her. She pushed back playfully, and it subsided. A few moments later, her door slid silently open and a light flickered on. Luke crept through the dark, trying not to trip on chairs or decorations.
The sight reminded her of being a small child, when she and her twin still shared a room. Luke was always clumsy when he was younger, and would always trip over anything that was even remotely in his path when it was dark.
"Why are you still awake?" Leia hissed.
Her brother nearly threw himself onto the open side of her too-wide bed. "I could ask you the same thing."
Leia sighed.
"You miss Mother and Father?" her brother questioned.
She shrugged.
Luke nodded, slumping his shoulders. "I do. I worry about them . . . I didn't know the galaxy was so big . . . They could be anywhere."
"Can you sense them?"
She hated to admit it, but Luke was more accomplished in Force using than she could ever hope to be. In mind tricks and saber fighting, they were equally matched. But Luke excelled in nearly every other area, whereas Leia had trouble controlling whatever power she contained. Father had not been able to train her correctly, since her learning style very closely matched, apparently, that of Anakin's. Obi-Wan was afraid of a repeat of what happened with his old apprentice, and therefore was far more cautious around Leia than Luke. Because of that, his training of her was more inefficient.
Luke was more direct and focused, and had a knack for sensing where people were, and whether or not they were in any kind of danger.
"Only a bit," he admitted, closing his eyes in concentration. "I know they're alive. But . . . they're . . . scared. There's something dark around them . . . I can't see past it." His eyes flew open, and in them Leia saw pure terror.
"Vader," he hissed. "Darth Vader is keeping them prisoner."
Luke couldn't shake that dark, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't slept that night. He'd insisted that Leia get some rest, and she dozed off occasionally, but Luke paced all night long.
He knew, from what Father told them, that Darth Vader was his biological father. But it seemed unreal. He refused to believe it. He wanted to take his sisters and run away. They couldn't go back to Dantooine. The Empire had already found their parents there. They couldn't stay on Alderaan. It was too populated, and too connected to the Core worlds.
Finally the sun began making its appearance, and it was then that Luke sat down heavily. He buried his head in his hands and wondered what he was supposed to do. There was no good option. He knew he had the skills to at least attempt at rescuing his parents, but he had only one clue as to where they were . . . but Darth Vader had probably hundreds of prisons around the galaxy. Luke hardly had any experience as a pilot, and even less with espionage and combat. On the other hand, there was nowhere to run. And even if they did run, they would never know what became of their parents. That was simply not an option.
Bail had said that the Rebellion would help, but the Force was telling Luke—no, screaming at him—not to go to them. It would destroy everything they had ever fought for, that much he was sure of.
A soft tap at the door interrupted his thoughts. He went to open it, glancing behind him to be sure Leia was still asleep.
"Rahya!" Luke whispered.
The princess glanced around the corridor nervously, then hissed, "We have to leave right now."
"Why?" His brow furrowed.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I just know we do. Get your sisters and meet me in hangar bay 18 in exactly thirty minutes." Then she was gone.
The next half hour was a whirlwind. Each child had been provided with a closet full of clothes in their size, so gear wasn't an issue. Luke felt awkward and unfamiliar in the soft fabric, but he chose the most durable-looking clothes he could find, and kept his old utility belt, from which hung Anakin's lightsaber.
Cordé dressed similarly, her father's saber dangling from a thin leather belt over her black trousers and gray tunic. Leia decided on an off-white jumpsuit and a sturdy black holster for her blaster. Both girls had no-nonsense braids done up in the typical Dantooine style.
Bail met them halfway down the corridor to bid them farewell and offer last-minute instructions.
"Be brave," he ordered. "And stay together."
The three bowed in respect, as their father had taught them, and the king returned the motion. Then the door behind them slid open, and they walked through . . . to see the most surprising sight of the day.
The Millennium Falcon stood docked in hangar bay 18, and none other than Han Solo and Chewbacca sat against the boarding ramp.
Vader knew something was wrong. He was never foolish enough to believe that they would tell him the whole truth, but he never expected Obi-Wan to blatantly lie to his face.
He knew his child was alive. He didn't know whether or not it was a boy or girl, he didn't know where it was, what it was doing, anything . . . but he knew without a doubt that it was, in fact, alive. Just as he'd known Padmé was alive. Of course, that took longer for him to sense, because as it turned out, Padmé was not Force-sensitive in the least. It had always been more difficult to sense her presence. But he was completely sure that his child was Force-sensitive. There was simply no question about that.
And for some reason, his troops hadn't found it on Dantooine.
He stood, suddenly furious. "Captain!" he bellowed.
Captain Piett came, nearly scurrying, across the few rooms separating himself and Vader.
"Yes, my lord?" he questioned, inclining his head quickly.
"Who led the mission on Dantooine?"
The Captain checked his records. "Sergeant Neita, sir."
"Bring him to me, immediately."
Only ten minutes later, Sergeant Neita and Captain Piett stood stiffly at attention in front of Vader. Both had their hands clasped tightly behind their backs, and both tried too hard to elevate their chins. Neita was almost amusingly short in stature, but made up for it in frightening amounts of muscle mass. Piett's build was the exact opposite.
"Neita," Darth Vader began, sensing the man's stone-cold demeanor. It would take much to get through to him. "I hear you were the one who brought me my prisoners."
"Yes, my lord," the sergeant nodded.
Vader's voice became dangerously calm—that terrifying calm before the storm. "Did you check the house after capturing them?"
"Yes, my lord. My men scanned the house and surrounding area. No signs of life were present."
Strange . . . Vader paced faster. "You didn't find another person?"
"No, sir."
With a swift turn and a swish of his cape, Darth Vader strode away.
"Ben! Luke, Leia!" Padmé called. "Where are you?"
Footsteps rushed toward her, and her husband appeared. "Shh," he reprimanded with a finger to his lips. "I've just put the twins down to rest."
Padmé sighed in relief. "You're a lifesaver." At three, Luke and Leia were the ultimate mischief-makers. They had seemingly limitless energy, which they had trouble channeling into the right places. It was a rare time when they used enough of the energy up to actually calm down and nap for a while.
She collapsed onto the sitting room couch, her few groceries removed from her hands by Obi-Wan and placed in the kitchen. "Have I ever mentioned I hate going into town?"
He smirked. "No, why?"
Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, and the world seemed to echo and reverberate around her. The blessed darkness enveloped her, and for a moment, she felt completely at peace . . .
"Padmé," Obi-Wan's soft voice pulled her out of her near-sleeping state.
"Hm?"
"Might I speak with you about something?"
She nodded and made room on the couch beside herself. But he had no intention of sitting. His eyes were focused intently on his boots, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed.
"I've been thinking," he began, "and . . . well, I'm . . ." He glanced up to meet her eyes. "I'm not quite sure how to put it, but I've been second-guessing my decision to train the children . . . And this may not be the best time to talk in depth about it, but I've been considering . . . well, finding another place to stay."
It took Padmé a full minute to process what he'd just said. "Wait," she clarified, "you mean just you? Leaving us here?"
"I would still financially support you, of course," he rushed, "but I would probably build myself a hut on the other side of town . . . maybe farther."
The room was eerily silent as Padmé tried to discern whether or not he was serious.
"Why?!" she finally exclaimed, rising to march to his side. "What benefit do you see in that?"
"Space for you and the children." He seemed to grind the words as they came spilling from his lips, every so quietly. "A growing family needs privacy . . . A place to be alone, without interference."
She stared up at him, absolutely incredulous. "You're not serious."
He didn't speak.
But she was not finished. "Obi-Wan! The children need you! I can't raise twins on my own!"
"Yes you can," he insisted. "You are strong."
"Strong or not, they need a father. I was sure Anakin would be that for them, but he's not, so you're the closest thing they have to one! You can't just leave! We need you."
The pure emotion that emanated from his very presence was enough to send Padmé reeling. "I don't deserve to be their father, Padmé. Not after . . ." His head fell again.
She knew what he meant. The last time he'd played father-figure to someone (a Skywalker, no less), it hadn't exactly turned out well.
He may have lost hope, but giving up was simply not in Padmé's nature.
"No," she stated simply. "What happened to Anakin was in absolutely no way your fault. I don't want a repeat of him either, but his situation was completely different than the twins'! And, you said yourself that you learned from your mistakes."
His jaw clenched. "I honestly think it's best for you and the ch—"
"Stop it!" She wanted to slap him. Heat boiled up in her chest, rising to her throat, and exited like flaming darts. "If you really wanted what was best for the children, you would stay here and help me raise them! Do you want to know how important a father is? My nieces don't have one. He died a week after Pooja was born. My sister, Sola, had to raise them completely on her own. She wishes every day that she could give them one. The closest thing they have to a father is their grandfather, and he's too busy being a grandfather and having a life to take care of them. Luke, especially, will need someone to look up to—to be a model for him. Someone trustworthy, with good morals. Everyone needs a father-figure. Anakin found one in you, and later Palpatine. Even you found one in Qui-Gon. You're being ridiculous and immature, Obi-Wan, and this needs to stop. I don't care if you train them or not. That's up to you. But the children need you with them." She finally paused, then took a deep breath and let it go. "I need you. Here. With me. You're all I have left . . ."
And suddenly, she couldn't see. Her vision clouded, and hot tears fell, one by one, down her cheeks. She raised a trembling hand to wipe them away.
She hated feeling vulnerable. She hadn't meant to say that last part. But it was true . . . Obi-Wan was the last connection she had to her old life. The twins were part of her new life . . . but she had known Obi-Wan since her time as a young queen on Naboo. He was her last tie to that era.
And when he brushed her face with his thumb and enveloped her in his arms, she realized that if he left, not only would the twins lose a very important person, but she would most likely be driven to insanity. She needed him to stay with her. For a moment, the thought of her children escaped her mind and she knew only of her need. She had never felt a need like this—not even when married to Anakin. Every part of her being screamed that this man—the man she clung to and drew comfort from—never leave, even if it were just out of her every-day life.
She didn't know how she would continue without him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair, holding her small frame as close to himself as possible. "I'm sorry . . ."
That statement meant more than she knew.
He had been afraid . . . afraid of the twins and what they might become. Afraid of hiding from the Empire.
Afraid of loving Padmé.
He had wanted to put it all behind him. He didn't want to see her every day if he couldn't continue to love her. He didn't want to train the twins if they would only grow up to betray all the people they held dear. He couldn't stay with them if he didn't want a repeat of what happened with Anakin.
He'd had it all planned out. He would gently separate himself from this family and spend his days apart from them. They were settled in . . . they didn't need him anymore, he reasoned.
But he had not counted on Padmé's vehement response.
As a Jedi, forming attachments was forbidden. Therefore, no one ever became attached to him. Of course, Anakin was an exception. But even he had already formed stronger attachments to people other than his master.
Obi-Wan was not accustomed to being wanted . . . or needed. He was supposed to live a solitary, secluded life . . . Even if it meant giving up that which was most important to him.
But now, he wondered how he could even have considered it.
Part of being a Jedi meant being completely selfless. He supposed his reasons for wanting to move out were selfish. But his reasons for wanting to stay were probably equally selfish.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. He was sorry he even proposed the idea. He was sorry he drove Padmé to tears. He was sorry for being selfish. He was sorry that he couldn't have done more to save Anakin. He was sorry that this woman had gone through so much in her short life . . .
He lost track of the amount of time they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace.
Finally he released his arms and brought his hands up to stroke each side of Padmé's face. Her eyes were red, her cheeks damp with tears.
"Will you stay?" she whispered, resting her forehead against his.
For a moment, he simply stood and took in the emotion in her eyes. She was pleading with him, begging him. What could he do but concede? "Is it really what you want?"
She never answered the question. Instead she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair . . . then drew herself up on tip-toe and kissed him for all she was worth.
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"So, why'd you come back?"
The lounge area of the Millennium Falcon was full. Han Solo didn't remember a time when it was this crowded. The droids rested in the corner, Cordé, Leia, and Chewbacca took up the couch, Han's coveted chair was occupied by Princess Rahya, and the two human men sat against one of the walls, on the floor, trying to maintain some sense of dignity.
Leia, surprisingly, had been the one to ask.
Han smirked. "I guess you needed a fast ship. They called me, I answered. Simple as that." In truth, it was not that simple. In short, it involved persuasion, pleading, and even bribery after his relaxing night on the one planet in all the near systems on which he had no price on his head.
He caught Rahya rolling her eyes, since she had been the one to call him.
The room lapsed into blessed silence again.
The trip was about seven hours long. Tatooine was their destination, of all places. Princess Rahya hadn't explained exactly why it was so important . . . In fact, the princess didn't say much at all. None of them did, now that Han thought about it. It was a quiet bunch. Even the obnoxious golden droid was halfway powered down to conserve energy.
Finally, Cordé voiced what they all wondered: "Why Tatooine?"
The princess clenched her jaw and considered for a moment. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, and seemed to chisel into Han's very soul. At length, she relented.
"Have any of you heard of the Death Star?"
The three Kenobis shook their heads, brows furrowing. Han stared at the floor, then nodded. "Super-destructive space station," he muttered. "Seen it a few times on a holo. Never up close or personal, though."
Chewie growled. "Thankfully," the wookiee added.
"Right," Rahya affirmed. "The Rebellion has been tracking it for years. It was just revealed to be operational . . . It destroyed half of Jedha and Scarif . . . We don't know what else it's capable of."
The room was eerily silent.
"A group of rebels," Rahya continued, "infiltrated an Imperial base on Scarif, about three days ago." Her jaw clenched again, and a dangerous crease formed between her brows. "We now have the Death Star plans, in the memory systems of a droid on Tatooine. Getting those back is my priority right now, and once we have the upper hand on the Empire, we'll be able to rescue your parents."
They hadn't been moved in a few days . . . but Padmé was beginning to lose track of time. Was it a few days or a week? Or just one day? She didn't know.
The cold, hard steel under her bare arms gave her chills . . . and the thin fabric on her back did little to help. She debated sitting up, but that would likely be equally cold, given the stale, recycled air of the station. She screwed her eyes shut, and tried to imagine her children, safe on Alderaan in the hands of royalty. She didn't have the Force, but nevertheless she tried to send positive thoughts their way . . . encouragements, and all the love she had for them.
A large, warm surface suddenly covered her, and her eyes blinked open. A rough, work-worn hand stroked her cheek, and Obi-Wan knelt in front of the sorry excuse for a bed. She smiled in thanks and wrapped his cloak more snugly around her shivering frame.
"Are you alright?" her husband murmured, seating himself on the floor below her.
"Just cold," she admitted. "What is this place, do you think?"
He considered for a moment. "A mobile station, most likely. Hyperspace has a certain feel to it, if you take my meaning."
She nodded. Hyperspace had a distinct feel . . . almost as if you were floating, yet tied down to the ship at the same time. "It's big for a mobile station, though."
"I don't know exactly how large it is. Could be a planetary base . . . who knows?"
"Have you thought about getting out?"
His brow furrowed, and he bowed his head. "Yes. I've run through options . . . But," he looked up into the endless depths of her eyes and tried to make her understand, "there seems to be no good way. Whatever we do, Vader will sense it and come after us. He is too powerful, and I'm too old for this sort of thing. He may be limited, but I don't know what power he still holds. It is too much of a risk."
"Staying here is a risk, too," Padmé insisted. "They could kill us at any time."
"I know. But I don't believe he'll allow it."
The one defining moment in which Obi-Wan realized he finally fit into the role of father to the twins occurred one day when the family decided to take the trip to town for supplies.
It was a hot day . . . Hot enough for little Cordé to be uncovered, and for Luke's thin blond hair to be plastered to his forehead. The twins were, as always, full of boundless energy, and Padmé worried that they would be sick from heatstroke by running around all day. So Obi-Wan strapped the children into the back of the speeder, while he drove, and Padmé held Cordé, who was only one standard month old, on her lap.
Town, as the people called it, could hardly be classified as such. It consisted of about five ramshackle buildings, nearly shoved together into a line, with the woods behind them and a dirt trail ahead. Various houses were scattered in the distance. All-in-all, the sight was less than enjoyable. However, on good days, it bustled and thrived like a good town should, as all the farmers and ranchers came for entertainment in the cantina or supplies in the other four shops. The livery was combined with the general store, on the far west end, and the owner always had time for everyone.
"Kenobi!" Matheo exclaimed as Obi-Wan strode through the doors, the twins on each hand and Padmé behind him, carrying Cordé in a makeshift front-pack. "Grüß dich!" the store-owner greeted in the native language.
"Grüß dich," Obi-Wan answered, grinning.
"Ach, how your children have grown," Matheo commented. "Beautiful family you have here."
This kind of exchange was common in Ergesdorf, the town. The people put high value on children, in such a poor area.
"Danke," Obi-Wan inclined his head in thanks, feeling more than seeing Padmé step up beside him.
Matheo's eyes caught sight of the baby sleeping in her arms, and his thin, drawn old face instantly lit up like a sun. "Ben! You did not tell me of this one!"
Padmé laughed. "She's new." Her eyes caught her husband's, and they grinned like a pair of high school sweethearts. "Her name is Cordé," she continued, stroking her daughter's soft hair and turning to show the store-keeper her little face.
"Beautiful," he exclaimed. "Simply beautiful. You must be proud parents." He shook his head in wonder.
"That we are," Obi-Wan murmured. He felt the shift in Padmé's attitude, and immediately straightened up to face Matheo. "So, now to business," he announced, a small grin still on his lips.
After about an hour, he'd acquired what he needed to keep the house running properly and the cooling unit stocked.
When finished with Matheo's store, he sent Padmé to the speeder with a hungry, crying Cordé, and he and the twins made their way down the street . . .
. . . When, suddenly, Obi-Wan realized that he no longer held onto the twin's hands. His mind instantly shifted into high-alert, and he whipped around to see if they stepped back a few paces . . . but the four-year-olds were nowhere in sight.
He could feel the small lights of their presences, and the slight shifts in the Force that told him they were around, but he could not tell where. He brought a sleeve up to dry his forehead and remove the plastered hair, and tried to clear his mind enough to pinpoint their locations.
"Blast it," he muttered, quickly feeling a sort of frantic nervousness he'd never experienced in all his years of life. Being a Jedi taught one next to nothing about parenting. "Luke!" he called. "Leia?"
No answer.
They wouldn't have gone back to the speeder, he reasoned. They loved town, and especially looked forward to seeing Getrud again. He scanned every inch of the street, and jogged back the way he came to scrutinize the woods. There were no alleys, thank goodness, since the five buildings had maybe an inch of space between each. Then he stopped, and listened intently. They had a very distinctive type of shout that he heard every day, all day long in the house. But, again, nothing.
"What in all the galaxy . . ." he wondered. They were just there. He'd had them by the hands, and then the next moment, they completely vanished. He hoped against hope that they hadn't used the Force to cloak themselves, which was entirely possible once one learned the technique.
Suddenly, he heard a very familiar giggle, followed by a louder, more forceful laugh. He took a deep breath. They were close. He whirled toward the sound . . . and shouted, not in relief, but fear.
The twins had reappeared, squatting in the middle of the small street, apparently enamored with something on the dirt path . . . as a low-lying speeder, flying through the woods, tore around the corner . . . straight toward the children, exactly level with their heads.
The world seemed to slow, as the speeder's driver continued to be oblivious to the small figures directly in his path.
Without thinking, Obi-Wan dove into the street, extended both hands, then simultaneously curled his body around the children and violently Force-pushed the speeder into the woods on the opposite side of the street. It seemed so slow, he felt as if he'd been sitting over the twins for a minute before Leia finally shrieked, and the speeder careened sideways, blowing dust as it stopped.
Obi-Wan scooped up the children and sat heavily on the boardwalk. Their eyes were wide as they realized what had happened. Then Leia buried her face in her father's side and sobbed. Luke clung to his other arm, shivering and whimpering. Obi-Wan held them close to his chest and bowed his head to rest his cheek against his son's soft hair.
"You're crazy!" Leia exclaimed, leaping to her feet.
Luke's head swung around from a thoughtful pose to one of concern and surprise.
Immediately Princess Rahya's eyes became steely and defensive. "Do you want the Empire to win?" Her voice was deadly calm. "We need those plans to destroy the base, and then we can help your parents. Otherwise, who knows? Whole planets could be destroyed, then billions of people would die."
To Luke, the princess didn't seem her age. According to Bail, she was only seventeen, but she was far, far more mature than her age suggested. She held the wisdom of ancient queens in her eyes, and every thought and word of hers was well-thought-through and precise.
"This," Leia continued, her voice rising dangerously high, "this was our mission. We asked for your help to complete it, and you agreed. We didn't ask you to go on some nerf-herding crusade and just throw us to the sidelines!"
At that, Luke sprung to his feet. "Leia!" he berated before Rahya could respond. "Calm down. We can talk about this."
"I am talking about it." She clenched her jaw. "She has no right—"
She was interrupted by, of all things, a sniffle.
Luke spun on his heel to face Cordé, who had her head bowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap . . .
The twins shared a worried, almost terrified look. Cordé never cried. Since she learned how to talk, she would express her needs with words, of which she was very proud. When she stubbed her toe or fell as a child, she would whimper, but stand back up and valiantly continue. True, she often showed intense emotions—she may have been the most sensitive in the family—but neither of them had seen her cry in about the last three years.
Leia strode out of the room, but not without laying a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. Luke knew that when riled, the only way for her to calm down was to separate herself from people. And she didn't want to cause Cordé any more stress. Rahya did the same, wandering down the hallway and seating herself just out of sight.
Chewie and Han looked on this whole time, speechless for once.
With a sigh, Luke took Leia's seat beside his little sister, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his side, her small frame shivering with contained emotion.
"Are you alright?" he murmured, rubbing her back.
She nodded . . . paused . . . then shook her head. "I miss them," she admitted.
But it went deeper than that, he knew. It was not simply being away from them that bothered her. It was the fact that she had never left her home planet, that the galaxy was huge, and that they had no clue as to where their parents were . . . or even if they did find them, if they could escape and go home.
"Me too," he whispered, glancing up and noticing that Han and Chewie had retreated to the cockpit. "But remember what Father always taught us. Trust the Force . . . no matter what."
At that, she raised a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "It's so hard, though."
"I know," Luke conceded. "Just try. And you can know that I do, so borrow my trust. Trust that I know that the Force won't lead us astray, and it'll guide us wherever we go. Can you do that?"
She paused, then nodded.
"Good." He gave her a comforting squeeze. "And I know they're safe, alright? Right now, they're safe."
.
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Woo! How was that for a mega chapter?! Lots of stuff going on- I'm super excited about where this is headed :)
A huge THANK YOU to all of you who have stuck with me this long, you know who you are!
I promise, I'll to my very best to stick with a regular schedule, but I do need to keep writing a good amount before I post, otherwise I stress too much and it's not worth it. But if I can stay ahead of my updates, we should be good :)
Hope you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for more next week, and in the meantime, tell me what you thought!
Until next time :)