Chapter XXVIII: Inevitable

The Emperor's private bedchamber in Corellia was a spacious and fancy room, though the absolute opposite of cozy and homely. The large mansion was guarded at every corner, impenetrable in that war-torn, wasteland of a planet. Anakin didn't spend many nights there, going out searching for at least a trace of his daughter.

It just so happened that on this night he was arriving. He walked slowly towards the lift and found himself on the highest floor, hoping against hope Padmé would still be up. He stared at the bed, hidden behind white veils: she laid with her eyes closed and breathing normal. Anakin sighed and begin changing into his night clothes. He sat on the bed knowing he wouldn't get an hour of sleep anytime soon, and comforted himself with the feeling of having his wife so close—the only thing that kept him together and somewhat sane. He was about to lie by her side when he heard the sound of a comlink. He picked it up angrily and was informed someone was trying to contact him from the Castle in Coruscant.

"At this hour? What could they want! Who is it?"

"Lady Jade, Your Majesty."

Vader growled. Anybody bothering him at the moment would upset him, but that name turned his blood cold and swift with rancor. Watching her young, frightened face only made it worse. "What is it, Miss Jade?" he asked, coldly.

She waited a few moments, draining his inexistent patience, and at last said, as if freeing herself from an incredibly heavy burden, "Your Majesty," her voice almost quivered, "Princess Leia is here in the castle."

Anakin's heart skipped a bit. Then it raced so hard he thought he might die. He shook his head in disbelief. If this was a lie… he couldn't stand it.

"Y—your Majesty, did you hear me?" Mara Jade said, unsure and frightened.

"I did," Vader said, his voice surprisingly put together even when his lips were so dry. He cleared his throat, "Miss Jade, are you sure this is not another false alarm?"

He saw her shake her head. "No, Your Majesty. I've spoken to her. She's really here!" her voice shook with excitement, even amidst the blue image Vader could see tears of maybe happiness in her eyes.

The Emperor smiled and laughed as tears escaped his eyes. "Thank the Force," he muttered, sighing, never before so relieved. His hands covered his face as he took some moments to feel everything he felt.

"But, s-sir," Mara Jade tried to gain his attention again. "She didn't come alone…"

"Luke!" a loud cry rang in the bedchamber. "Oh Luke is with her!"

Anakin turned around to see Padmé, who had awaken and obviously been eavesdropping on the conversation. Anakin turned to see her, somewhat bothered, but forgot about it when he noticed the wild happiness that had exploded on her face.

"Oh my children!" she cried and rose to join her husband.

Anakin put his arms around her; it would've been a truly moving and beautiful scene to witness, if only it wasn't so wrong…

Mara Jade couldn't possibly look any more frightened in the hologram, as she muttered, amidst gritted teeth, clearly hating her words, "No. Luke is not here."

Anakin and Padmé didn't let go of each other. "So what's happening?" Padmé questioned. "Please, Mara, speak!"

"She brought… a man," Mara confessed.

Anakin and Padmé stared wide-eyed at each other, "What?" they cried in unison. "Who?" Padmé asked.

Mara shook her head. "I don't know."

"Listen Jade," Anakin spoke in his most menacing voice, chilling even Padmé. "You better make sure my daughter is there when we arrive. Understand? If she's not: You will pay for it. Am I clear? I don't care if she herself wants to go. If the earth splits in two… You have to make sure she doesn't go! I don't think I have to tell you so plainly… You'll be begging for death if she's not in the castle when I get there."

Padmé usually hated and tried to avoid Vader threatening people, especially poor Mara whom he had always abused. In this case, though… she allowed him. Because she was sure, if again she missed Leia even by a second, if again fate was so cruel as to keep them apart, she wouldn't care about being fair, she wouldn't care about who is really responsible or to blame; she would kill Mara Jade herself.


There was still that aching feeling on every muscle; the scars though healed hadn't completely gone away.

Princess Leia took a few calming breaths to really take in the instant she was enjoying—actually enjoying. She was in one of her homes; secure, at last, from the war, from every evil in the galaxy. The strong arms that carried her in that jumpy, childish, adoring manner belonged to a man she had grown so accustomed to she was almost afraid of becoming dependent. She couldn't understand how he managed; what power did he have, without the slightest Force sensibility, to make her smile so?

Yet every few random seconds her treacherous mind would show her a traumatic moment from the past: she would see the panic on her ship when they fell under attack and crashed in Tatooine. She would feel that tremulous uncertainty of being chased like a criminal across the galaxy by a dangerous bounty hunter. Feel the explosive anger at being denied freedom when captured by the rebels. The heartbreak at finding traitors even in the closest of friends. The physical pain of being caught in a battle. Buildings falling. Bombs dropped. Learning the image the royal family truly has… Hated by civilians. Doubted and shunned by imperials. Surviving on the charity of rebels. Her own brother's betrayal—

She felt warm lips on her skin, on her own mouth. He couldn't read her mind, he hadn't that power, but he knew always what to do to make her feel better.

She focused on Han again, his handsome face and wandering hands.

Then she would see herself, screaming and crying, dragging herself through the mud of Dagobah. Branches ripping her clothes and skin. Heavy stones bruising her. A fog and dirt blinding her. Strange insects clinging to her…

But that was left behind. The day was beautiful and bright in Coruscant. Han kept carrying her around the castle's grand garden. The smell of flowers covered her nose, sweet was the fragrance embedded in every wind blow.

"Stop," she suddenly said, breathlessly but quite serene.

Han helped her sit on the grass and joined her. He didn't say anything, he placed her on his lap and brought her head to his chest, like when in Corellia aided by the rebels… Stop. She closed her eyes, she felt his fingers play with her hair, making it a mess and she didn't mind; they scratched her scalp very gently, taking her to an incredibly relaxing state. "Mmmhh," Leia hummed satisfied as he massaged her shoulders; his hands, with supreme tact going below, arms, ribs, till they rested on her abdomen. She realized there was not a part of her body she wouldn't allow him to touch. "Is this real?" she wondered out loud, dreamily.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Han whispered at her ear, his voice raspy and low.

"I… I am not sure. So much has happened, I hardly know what to believe."

This was such comfort she had forgotten existed… Actually, like she had never known.

"It's real," Han said, his touch being slightly less gentle but just as pleasing.

"It's a dream," Leia corrected. "I had never felt like this…"

"How?" Han questioned.

She didn't even know what to call it.

"Leia?"

No answer. He pressed her harder against his body and she whined.

"I'm sorry," he said, not sounding apologetic at all. "Why don't we go inside?" he asked, suddenly.

"All right," she nodded and she felt as he pushed her to stand up. He took her hand and guided her back to the castle.


Passing by the main hallway Leia saw her own face, flushed, colored excessively. Within herself, she was thankful of wearing a long dress that at least concealed her shaky legs.

This was such anxiety as she had never experienced before. It was a danger to her heartrate—a pleasure to her insides.

She didn't know what kind of courage she needed to face this moment. One she didn't want to avoid, yet she inwardly prayed she could postpone.

"Are you all right?" she heard Han's voice, his usual one, not like when they sat alone in the garden.

She nodded frantically. "Yes," she said, her tongue very dry.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked with a smile.

She wanted to go to her room and hide from everyone. Especially him.

"Um, sure," she said, very aware of how obviously her chest went up and down. "L-let me call a servant," Leia blurted out.

"That's okay," Han said. "Let's see what you got."

He walked her to the kitchen, passed to the wine cellar, dismissed the servants, and went through a few shelves. "Excellent!" he said. "This is a fine collection." He regarded the many bottles. "Corellian rum, Merlot, brandy…" Leia was biting her nails. "Twister… Chandrillan Bleu… Alderaan Ruge, nice, very fancy…"

Leia thought of Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. Her brain melting with angst and fear. I'm back… she suddenly thought. What am I going to do?! There was only one thing. They're traitors of the Empire…

"How about the rum?" Han said, cheerfully.

Leia gulped, again so preoccupied. The effect of Han's miraculous caresses and kisses erased. Tears again crowded. She again hated.

Han stared at her. "What?" he asked, oblivious, still stuck in their previous moment.

Oh what she wouldn't give to be in the same state of mind as him! Only a few minutes ago she was so lucky. How did he do it? She envied it.

"Why were you not affected by everything we went through?" Leia asked, abruptly.

Han blinked, surprised. "Some of it was pretty nasty," he admitted. "But we made it through. It's all behind."

"For you! I can't—I can't forget it!"

"I know," he said, regretfully. "I've noticed."

"From time to time you rescue me from it… Han, how does a person manage to be like you?" she asked that burning question.

"I don't know," he grinned. "Guess by not caring so much."

"But I can't—I mean, how can't you care? The world is a mess! The galaxy is horrible. How do you deal with it?!"

"Leia, is very easy. I know I can't do anything about it!"

She stood silent for a moment. "Maybe that's why I can't stop worrying about it," she then said. "Because I can do something about it." I should. "What's all this power good for," she wondered sadly, "if my mind is forever a confounding mess!"

She sat in front of the table, and laid her head on it with a thud. "What should I do!" she cried, frustrated. "What would you do?" she turned to Han Solo.

He waited a moment, considering his answer. "I'd drink," he said, Leia thought, honestly. She laughed.

"Well, give me the hardest drink you can find."

"Do you drink?"

"I'll start."

Han chuckled; he served a glass of Corellian wine for himself and one for Leia.

"This is terrible advice I just gave you," he said, watching Leia devour the wine in one sip.

"You can't possibly do me any more damage. Pour me another… I've heard alcohol makes you forget. I don't want anything more than that!"

"It also makes you foolish, Princess. It fogs your judgment."

"I have no judgment anymore," she blurted out, spitting a little of the bitter alcohol she wasn't used to. "How long does it take?" she asked.

"Guess we're about to find out. Cheers!" he clicked his glass against hers.

The bottle was brand new, but Leia thought nothing of it as she continued to drink glass after glass, despite Han's constant warnings that it was too much and should forget it. But liqueur was bringing her old spirit. Her destroyed will. War didn't exist in her mind. Tragedy was unheard of. And she ordered him around with all her mighty strength, her cute face amusing the smuggler as she bossed him to give her more and more.

"Bottle's over," Han said, half-amused, half-concerned. "I created a monster."

Leia started laughing. Maniacally and for long. She didn't know why but she found that comment hilarious. She watched Han, his own face, as well as everything, even the walls and door seemed hysterical. She banged her hands on the table and wiped away tears. Han joined in her laughter. "What's so funny?" she asked, for a moment serious and then both burst out laughing again. She wanted to drink more. She wanted to take Han and kiss him forever. She felt no fear anymore. No anxiety. No pain. She was giddy and relaxed. Lustful and excited.

"I wish I had met you sooner," she suddenly cried out, perfectly unaware of how liqueur now controlled her tongue and no thought or secret was safe. "I wish you're with me forever…" she threw an arm around him. "I wish…" she said slowly, her wildest dreams, perhaps unknown even to her, right on the surface, "I wish you would take me away, Han. I want to enter the Millennium Falcon and know nothing bad will happen. If only we could travel the galaxy… leave everything and everyone behind… travel from planet to planet—like we've been doing; but not chasing anyone. Not being chased. Not running away… only… Doing nothing but…"

"What?" Han pressed after she stayed silent for a while, her eyes staring dreamily at nothing.

"Love!" she screamed, her voice full of emotion. Happiness she couldn't contain in her chest bursting out.

Han didn't smile or said anything; he picked her up and started kissing her. She responded with mad intensity. Passionate like only he could make her.

With the excitement of people who are in love for the very first time, Han and Leia ran around the castle, climbing the stairway, reaching the Princess's bedroom.

Han locked the door and threw Leia on the bed, he climbed on top of her and directed his lips towards her body—every part he had fantasized for so long, finally his. Leia gripped at his belt, not knowing what she was doing. Not thinking about it. Feeling. Just feeling.

His hands were caressing, passing by and exploring her figure; his eyes gazed upon her worshipfully. He called her name adoringly and heard her do the same. He stopped for a second to see her face, just to read the prime feeling over her features. Happiness. Nothing else. His hands slowly reached over to her dress, bundling it up to her thighs. He brushed his one tanned cheek against her soft, pink ones. He kissed her again on the lips. Long. Hard. "Leia…"

She tensed up for a moment, her whole body froze, causing Han to be heartbroken. He opened his eyes, which had been closed in pleasure, and prepared an apology for maybe having gone too far.

On her face, not flustered anymore but worriedly, deadly white, her trembling lips said his name, "Han…" she whispered terrified like anytime she was afraid and needed his arms for support. "Oh dear!" she sighed.

Han slowly moved away from where he had been, lying on top of her, to be beside her on the bed. "You sounded just like Threepio when he's afraid," he grinned, sadly, almost sobered.

Leia looked as if she hadn't had any alcohol at all. The charm of liqueur suddenly broken. "I'm so afraid… I wish I was dead!" she cried.

Now Han was not only hurt, but offended. "Hey, you're the one who got me drunk and practically seduced me up here… Leia, what is it, really?"

She looked on the verge of a mental, physical, emotional breakdown...

"They're here!" she screamed, her voice breaking, ripped apart with panic. "My parents are here!"

Han sat still for a moment, processing those words, forcing his drunken brain to comprehend the meaning. They're here. The Emperor and Empress. Darth Vader and Queen Amidala.


"Get out of the way!" the Emperor cried as he and his wife descended the Executer.

"Is she here? Is she here?" Padmé cried over and over again.

"She better be," Anakin said, his threatening voice cooling the skin of every servant, guard and imperial in sight.

Husband and wife walked side by side, more steadily than their hearts would ever be again.


"Leia… please try to calm down," Han said, even while not being very calm himself. He stared at her, shaking, her eyes not even with another tear to shed.

"What am I going to do? What am I going to do?!" she muttered in despair. "I couldn't possibly be more unprepared for this!"

"Okay—then don't do it!"

"They're here," she repeated bitterly. "They're here!"

"Leia, I heard you the first time, Sweetheart. Just breathe and try to be calm—"

His advice proved useless. How could she be anything but freaked out? She put her hands as if they were claws on the covers, wishing to put them over her head and follow Han's ridiculous suggestion.

"If we're quick we can enter the Falcon before they see you," Han said, lying by her side, beginning to sound somewhat calm.

She rolled over to face him, staring into his dark-green eyes and somehow thinking there was some sense to that idea… Was it worth it to at least give it a try? She could feel his warm breath over her face, a burning Corellian liqueur; how different the two of them had been just before! Why did things always fall apart so quickly for her? She didn't know why- but she knew running away would not change it.

She reached over to kiss Han one more time. A soft, small kiss, nothing like what they had shared on this day, but a mere brush against his lips. She saw his confusion and decided to be amused, not pained by it.

She closed her eyes for a moment, pushing every thought, every fear, every desire away, and simply rose from the bed. She accommodated her dress, stood in front of the looking glass, smoothed her hair, releasing it from the messy and destroyed braided crown and just letting it loose. She regarded the reflection of the young girl before her, not bothering to figure it out at all, knowing that trying at the moment would be useless.

I will do this.

"I'll be back," she said without looking at Han, who laid in the bed more confused than ever.

"You don't have to do this right now," Han said, gently.

I don't have a choice.

"Yes, I do. Please wait here. I'll be back soon…" she gave a few steps towards the door, her feet faltering and almost bringing her to the floor.

Han ran to her. "Really, Leia," he said, seriously, "you are in no condition to see anybody."

"Wait," Leia said, her voice low, "I have an idea." She walked to one of the many drawers and grabbed a bottle of perfume. She practically bathed in it.

"I can still smell the alcohol," Han said, taking her hands and trying to bring her to the bed to sit for a moment.

"That's because you're so close your breath and mine are practically the same…" she muttered; looking up, she saw his eyes gazing upon her lips, indeed so close their breaths mixed.

"No…" Leia shook her head. "I can't kiss you—" she saw the hurt in his eyes and was tempted to laugh. "—not because I don't want to. But because if I do, I won't be able to stop."

Han was left stunned. He didn't react as Leia again broke apart from him, this time managing to cross the door.


Anakin and Padmé stood in front of the castle's gates, the main entrance, hearts beating at the same time and with the same unhealthy intensity.

"What do you think?" Padmé said, with that voice so weak from passed weeping. "Could she be here?"

Anakin didn't say anything. He didn't even try to feel her presence. The disappointment would be one he could not take if mistaken…

The large, tall doors opened. Guards bowed. The Emperor and Empress entered and stood there.

The silence was unbearable, like that of a funeral or graveyard. As if no living soul was in here. People were scared by the Sith's presence, that was obvious, and they dared not disturb him.

At last, came the sound of steps: delicate, graceful, and small. Despite all that they seemed loud, almost resonating within the castle's halls. At the top of the carpeted stairway, appeared the Princess Of The Skywalker Empire.

Leia stood tall, her head high, holding her breath, watching the two forms of her parents as if they weren't there, as if they weren't real. Nothing was. Her dim sight betrayed her and she didn't dare give a single step for a full ten seconds. Then she did and it didn't matter that her feet were shaky because Anakin and Padmé had ran to her and they were at the top of the majestic stairway in a matter of seconds, capturing her in strong, smothering arms.

"My darling! My little girl!" Padmé was crying and smiling non-stop.

Leia saw her mother's tears and tried to remember the last time she had seen someone weep like that. Certainly she had never seen Padmé so affected by anything. Was it her own face her mind now showed screaming for dear life? Along with that of many others who new death was just around the corner…

"My Princess!" Anakin's voice was softer than she had ever heard before. "My beautiful little Princess! Leia, Finally!" there was relief in his voice that she didn't know was even possible. Moreover, it was disturbing coming from a man she had never known to be ever afraid before.

"Are you all right?" Anakin asked and Leia wasn't sure of why that particular question bothered her; nor was she sure of why there was such a lack of emotion in her. She was drained of feeling.

She nodded, mechanically, and forced her lips into a smile.

"Oh Leia, my child," Padmé covered her with kisses. "Don't worry. Don't be afraid, we're here."

Leia blinked, strongly. The many dreams around her coming together, becoming whole as the pieces of a puzzle put together do. Fantasy gone, reality entering.

She saw Padmé's brown eyes, the familiar sight filling her with strange anguish. Anakin's blues shone from above, paining her heart like the sharpest knife…

The image was clear now, and her actions unconnected to her mind.

"Leia, are you all right my child?" Anakin repeated, fatherly worry on his soft voice.

"F—father!" Leia cried and refuged herself in Anakin's arms, bathing his chest with flooding tears.

Anakin gulped, panic reflecting on his face. Never, not even when she was a small little girl had Leia sought his protection that way…What happened to her? The question burned within his mind with the most horrific possible answers.

"Things will be all right, Leia. I promise," Anakin assured her.

Leia shook her head, she put an index finger over her temple as if it were throbbing painfully.

"And about Luke," Padmé said, her voice still trembling with emotion, "don't worry or blame yourself, my darling. He's fine—he has to be! Oh don't you blame yourself, Leia."

"Now that your safety is assured I can dedicate fully to search him," Anakin said. "My darling, I'm so sorry! It was an impossible mission I bestowed upon you. Forgive me, please. I should've known you weren't ready…"

Even amidst the many things that clouded and prevented Leia from being in her right mind, these comments triggered supreme anger in the Princess. No amount of trauma, pain or alcohol could've prevented the twirling in her belly, that fiery, powerful dragon that spitted fire which flowed through her veins, heating her body, turning her red. That wounded pride of being thought a failure, even if she herself would call her that. It stung to the point her voice was rough and without tremors, as she said, defiantly, "I did find him."

Anakin and Padmé stared at each other, in complete an utter shock. Clearly they hadn't considered this alternative at all.

"You…" Anakin's voice was breathless as his watched his daughter, now proudly. "You…Well, of course! My strong Princess! Oh how could I have doubted you? But… Never mind. Where is he?"

"Leia?" Padmé also asked.

The Princess was silent.

"Leia?" Anakin pressed. "Where is your brother? Where is Luke?!"

"I am here, Father," came the sound of the young Prince, of Luke himself.

Leia closed her eyes shut, willing to respond to her twin brother through their connection, thinking he was revealing himself through the Force… but opening her eyes to inspect, she saw him breaking into the scene, on his way to the stairway.