A/N: thank you all so much for all the feedback!
i think this is the longest chapter so far, and i hope it won't disappoint
When Luke opened his eyes, the brightness hurt his vision.
He took his time to sense his surroundings for his whereabouts. His memory was blurry, the events of the previous night a haze to his mind that he wasn't sure he wanted to revisit, although he knew it was bound to haunt him eventually. But not at that moment, where silence reigned and peace prevailed.
Peace. Only peace. He couldn't remember the last time in his life he felt so serene, with only harmony surrounding him.
He liked that. He missed that, not having to carry the burden of the entire galaxy on his shoulders, even if for just a second.
Idly, he yawned, feeling well-rested and ready to fight hundreds of stormtroopers without getting tired. Luke stretched his arms widely, intending to free his body of the last strains of sleep, only to hit his arm on something—someone—and realize he wasn't alone.
A little bit surprised, he looked to his side and found his mother sleeping next to him, seated on a chair while she laid her head over the edge of the mattress of the bed he was in, using her arm as a pillow. He frowned lightly — how long had they been there? Because that couldn't be a comfortable position to sleep in.
He decided to extend his visual search further into the room, and he found Leia sleeping in the cot next to his. His day just kept getting weirder. His sister enjoying her slumber when the sun was already up and running? That was something, and he would make sure to tease her about it afterward.
No, he wouldn't; as the memories came back to him and he realized, she was there because of him. Because he'd had an existential crisis, and got himself into trouble, and thanks to this lack of thinking, he had sent his family on a goose chase after him.
He felt guilty for his actions, he felt guilty for what he had put them through. And yet, despite his deeds, his family was there with him, for him, waiting to learn if he was alright. Leia was there, regardless of how infuriated she had been with him the previous night — and, honestly, he couldn't blame her.
Luke had no idea how to start making amends for his mistakes, especially with his sister. He didn't doubt there would be a lot of shouting and lecturing from her end the moment she woke up, and he wasn't certain he would be able to hear everything she had to say without breaking down himself.
Because, truth be told, his heart was still hurting. For the same reasons it had been the previous night.
His edginess became too apparent, and Padmé slowly regained her consciousness. Her first effort upon waking up was grimacing at the soreness her body had just undergone, after many unknown hours of sleeping in the worst possible position. She repressed a yawn — because those many unknown hours of uncomfortable slumber added to the anguishes of the previous night proved quite incapable of providing her the rest she required — and finally dared to look sideways.
She was caught a little off guard to find a set of piercing blue eyes staring intensely at her. She was thrown to the past and saw Jedi Anakin's eyes glancing at her for the first time in years after they had met in Tatooine when they were both only children — those eyes that sparkled with life, yet held an indescribable fear for the things that they did not know, that had yet to come.
"Mother."
His voice brought her back to the present, and she let out a single sight, before allowing herself to delve into a warm smile. "Luke. I'm so relieved you are alright."
He mimicked her facial expression with an awkward smile. "Yes, I am. All thanks to you, of course."
Unable to restrain herself, Padmé pulled him into a hug — his head close to her heart, her arms strongly holding him by the neck, her nose smelling the scent of his hair. She would remain there forever, if she could, certifying that he was safe and alive.
"I'm fine, mother," Luke mumbled when he started to feel a little suffocated, his voice muffled by the fabric of her blouse, "Really."
Reluctantly, Padmé let go. She settled herself back into the chair, a little more assured of his well being after she had felt him for herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to smother you. I was simply so worried last night."
"I should be the one apologizing," Luke spoke softly, both in shame and dreading to awake the sister next to him. He'd like to fix his mistakes to one person at a time. "What I did… It was stupid, really stupid."
Padmé gave him a stern look. "Yeah. We still need to talk about that."
His cheeks blushed, and the inner child inside him wanted to disappear. He became very small in his bed, his hands anxiously playing with the blanket over him. "I know. I understand that I need to redeem myself, but I have no idea how to do this, because I understand the hurt that I've caused you."
At that moment, Padmé could see Anakin's dramatics perfectly in the son's personality. It was almost laughable. "Come on now, there's no need to exaggerate. You haven't committed a crime, after all."
Luke anxiously chewed on his cheeks — hadn't he? Hadn't he actively fought in the war that killed thousands of innocent people?
"Leia surely looked at me as if I did."
Instinctively, Padmé glanced behind to check on the daughter; Leia was still sound asleep next to them, curled up in a fetal position, the blanket that Padmé had caringly placed over her after she fell asleep now all tangled up around her torso and leaving her legs bare. She sighed in relief at the notion that the princess hadn't been disturbed.
"I'm not Leia. I can't speak from Leia's perspective, only from mine."
Luke wrinkled his nose. "You have a motherly perspective. I'm not sure that's any better."
Padmé scoffed lightly.
"I can't say that I will go easy on you, because I won't ever lie to you," she said, "You gave us quite a fright yesterday. Luke, when we couldn't find you, I was certain I would never see you again, and I don't think I've ever been so scared."
He swallowed roughly, looking down in embarrassment.
"You're here now, safe and sound, and that's what matters. We've got you back, because you're so blessed to have a sister who will march into hell if it means getting you back, and I hope this will serve you as a lesson that you're not alone. You're not alone, Luke…!"
His tears started gathering sooner than he had anticipated. "I know that, mother. I have you and Leia and Han and… I have people. I don't know what compelled my reasons last night."
Understanding him to be going through an inner battle that she wasn't aware of, Padmé bent forward to find his hand. "All I'm saying is if you feel like doing something reckless, then at least let someone know. So I won't wake up in the middle of the night again with your sister pounding against my door, ready to commit murder with her bare hands."
Luke laughed shyly at that image. He had no problem depicting Leia going feral once she couldn't find him. "She is ready to kill me, isn't it?"
Padmé snorted, "If I were you, I wouldn't try to get on her nerves anytime so soon."
"That's easier said than done," he cried, "Anything gets on Leia's nerves."
Unlike his expectations, the mother didn't find his remark amusing. "You're in no place to pester your sister, Luke, not after everything she did for you last night."
This time, Luke wanted to crawl into a hole and hide there forever. Although he had meant it in good faith, that he had never intended to dismiss his sister, he understood that his actions had lost him the right to teasing comments until he had made amends with Leia. It didn't surprise him that, for the first time since they had met, Padmé had taken Leia's side over his — however, it did make him feel a little sad for having lost the high ground with their mother.
"I'm sorry. I would never purposefully say anything to hurt Leia."
"I know, Luke," Padmé sighed, tiredly running her hand through her hair and double-checking the sleeping princess once again. She hadn't flinched.
"How did you find me, again?" he asked with a frown. "You've said that Leia did, but I guess that doesn't really make sense to me. She has never willingly touched the Force before, I don't understand how she would be able to find me just like that."
"It wasn't just like that," she quoted his words. "Luke, you weren't there. You had no idea how brutal it was for Leia to search her feelings for your presence, how brutal it was to watch her nearly losing herself in the process. Now, I never allowed her to quit, or even to take a break, as unnerving as it was to see her like that, as much as I knew that she needed a pause to breathe, and for that, I still need to beg her for forgiveness, for disregarding her well-being so blatantly, but I genuinely thought I was going to lose you both. You, for your stupidity. Her, for her unwillingness to give up on you."
This time, it was Luke's turn to glimpse at his sister, as another wave of bare guilt washed over him. Reaching out for her, he searched for her feelings, to understand her state of spirit, and — surprisingly, he found nothing. There was no darkness, no light, no nightmares, no dreams. There was no turmoil, there was no peace. She was simply asleep.
"Do you think she'll forgive me?"
Padmé offered him her sad eyes. "She already has, Luke. She wouldn't still be here otherwise."
Luke breathed out heavily. "She doesn't forgive easily."
Padmé frowned at his remark, and she never thought she would have to remind him of that, "You're not Vader, Luke."
She was met with complete silence and judged it wiser to leave it like that. Whatever battle Luke was facing inside of him, he still wasn't ready to disclose it. Until he fought his own demons, there was no point in pressing him, and Padmé would patiently wait until he was ready to come to her.
In his quietude, as his mind worked around his issues, Padmé extended her eyes to the clock against the wall. She checked the time, accepted it, and lazily began to stretch in her seat — until it hit her, and panic boiled through her veins.
"Oh no," she gasped, her body suddenly tense and unsure of how to proceed next. "Shit, shit, shit, shit—"
He wouldn't say that his ears bled from the sound of his mother swearing, but they came close to. He didn't waste his worry on that but on her sudden body language and Force imprint.
"Padmé, what is it?"
She didn't process how from the chair she suddenly found herself on her feet, a few feet away from both their beds, biting on her nails nervously as she stared at Leia's sleeping form in utter despair.
"Mother!"
She harshly gestured with her arm to keep him quiet, and essentially stopped breathing when Leia let out a prolonged sigh. Only when she made sure that the daughter remained asleep that she found part of her calm again.
"I was supposed to wake Leia up," she said as slowly as possible, "About three hours ago."
Luke unconsciously raised both his hands to his mouth, and Padmé didn't have to be a genius to know that he was trying to hold his laughter. "You're in trouble."
"I know…!" she yelled a hushed scream.
"She's going to kill you."
"I know."
For the longest time, she simply remained there, trying to come up with a plan or at least an excuse — it was already so late that a few extra minutes would barely make a difference. Mentally, she was directing every curse word that she was aware of at herself; she and Leia had come such a long way, they had genuinely bonded last night, and she had just thrown every effort out by failing to keep the one promise that Leia had asked of her. It had all been in vain.
"You need to do something," Luke instructed, "You're only avoiding the inevitable."
She grimaced in pain, her fists clenched hardly next to her thighs. "Can you… Can you do it? She'll be less mad if she sees you."
"Are you kidding me? She sees me first, and her very first thought will be a well-articulated plan on how to kill me in my sleep," Luke argued, stretching his arms behind his head. "I'm terribly sorry, mother, but I have no alternative than to use you as a human shield for the time being."
Padmé understood — she did, after all, it had been her own messing up, and wasn't she just rambling to Luke about the importance of owning up to one's mistake? She absolutely hated it when her own wisdom turned against herself.
Although she knew what she had to do, she remained still.
As time went by, Luke began to feel sorry for her, and for how she looked like she would start crying tears of despair at any minute now. He braced himself and pulled the blanket away from his legs, legs that immediately after made their way to the floor. He felt the cold ground with his bare feet, wrinkling his toes a few times before finally standing up.
He waited briefly for the pain of the wound in his leg to kick in — and when it didn't, he gave himself a tilted nod of approval. He found a pair of clean clothes neatly folded in the balcony, alongside his worn black boots, and excused himself for one extra minute to go into the bathroom and change.
When he returned, he was slightly amused to finding Padmé two steps closer to Leia, but still lacking the courage to do anything. The Jedi walked up to her, gave her a soft kiss to the top of her head, and whispered gently, "I've got this."
Carefully, Luke approached his sister and sat down by the edge of the hard mattress. Leia shifted in the slightest, and when she provided no other sign of awareness, he placed his hand over her shoulder and rubbed it gently, before finally shaking her awake.
"Leia."
Leia shot her eyes wide open in alert as she abruptly came back to consciousness. Her head was heavy — she hadn't realized how tired she had been, and how profoundly her exhaustion had made her sleep for the past few hours.
She was awake now, and her first notion was the brightness of the sun coming through the transparent window. She grimaced.
There was a presence next to her, and having kicked the last of the slumber away from her system, she forced herself into a sitting position. She found her brother there, with his hands clenched in front of him as he stared ahead of him, a faint smile in the corner of his lips.
"Luke."
Leia was so alleviated to see him, all right and breathing in front of her, that all her accumulated anger ceased to exist. The previous night came close to one of the worst days of her life — that title was reserved for very few unspecial days, and it was nearly impossible to beat them, although she wouldn't put it past the universe for trying. The previous night felt like a vision straight out of her nightmares, and the image of him alive in front of her was a relief.
"Hi," he replied awkwardly, shyly glancing at her for seconds at a time, since he kept deflecting staring at her blackhole eyes for too long.
"Hey," she casually met his awkwardness, and it retrieved a soft chuckle from him. She knew her heart to be beating at the same rhythm as his; she knew, because only their familiarity in the Force made her feel this calm.
Unable to hold herself back — and quite unsure as to what got into her — Leia jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly. She closed her eyes, focusing strongly on his presence there and erasing all the anguishes of the night before; he was there, solid as a rock, and that was the only guarantee she would ever need.
Luke embraced her back, surprised that she had welcomed him so warmly. Perhaps, Padmé had been right — everything was already forgotten and forgiven. That presentment was all it took him to tighten his hold over her, relieved to be feeling her presence both in the Force and there, right next to him.
"I'm alright, Leia. I promise," he assured, feeling her nod over his shoulder in return.
In the back, Padmé simply smiled, content to be forgotten as the twins forged their sacred bound.
Once all her worries had been set aside, Leia broke their link, pulling back enough to share a shy grin with him. That grin, however, only lasted long enough for him to remember that she loved him, always and above all.
Her face quickly fell as she merciless raised her hand in the air and gave him a slap across the face. The sound of her palm against his skin was as sharp as a whip, and it brought several layers of unspoken tension to the air. It hadn't even been a hard slap, but its significance spoke louder than any prospect of physical pain, and Leia knew that would hurt him more.
"You're an idiot."
"Okay, I guess I deserved that," Luke mumbled, his hand pressed against his burning cheek. He barely had the time to process her deed before she got on her feet and started to walk away.
Leia made sure to stop by Padmé and her horrified expression, to give her a glare and a remarkable roll of her eyes in appreciation of the promise that had not been fulfilled. The princess didn't allow herself to take a peek at the clock, so her fury wouldn't spike even more at the notion of the many hours of light that she had missed.
Padmé merely looked down, ashamedly, and returned her attention to Luke once the daughter had vanished away. "Are you okay?"
Dramatically, Luke rubbed his fingers against his cheek, and his actions were leaving his skin redder than Leia's flap contact. He conceded with a grim, "I deserved that."
She tilted her head in the slightest. "You did."
Bracing himself for the battle he was about to enter, Luke hopped back on his feet, determined to go after his sister. As he passed by Padmé, he gently tapped her upper arm and said, "I'll see you later, mother," before disappearing without a trace.
Padmé blew a puff of air between her lips, far too used to being left behind.
Luke ran, and he ran, and he ran, and he wasn't sure whether he was running after Leia or simply testing the boundaries of his new leg — which, so far, seemed to be nonexistent, and he quite enjoyed that illusion of freedom.
Unlike him, Leia walked in a steady rhythm; not too fast, so bystanders wouldn't think she was running away from something, not too slow either, so those same peasant minds wouldn't think she was idly wasting precious time.
It was true — she really wasn't running away from Luke, she only intended to get to her private quarters as soon as possible, change into a suitable outfit that didn't smell of Han's perfume, and start to make up for all those hours of labor she had evaded by working extra hard. And to prove herself as much, she made sure to keep her pacing constant when she heard Luke shouting her name from afar.
"Leia!"
Only Luke to attract everyone's attention by his lack of discretion. She felt prying eyes watching her from afar, which she strongly ignored, just like she ignored the yelling brother behind her.
"Leia, we need to talk," Luke nearly begged, once he found himself side by side with her. A little out of breath, sure, but his exterior appearance wouldn't denounce anything.
"No, we don't," Leia replied coldly, not bothered, crossing her arms to indicate how unreachable she was to the rest of the world.
Like an annoying brother — and he made sure to play this role right — he repeated, "Yes, we do."
"Fine. But needing to talk doesn't mean we're actually going to talk."
He buried his hands deep inside the pockets of his pants. "I don't see a reason why we shouldn't."
Leia angrily puffed, "I can think of plenty."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes; at leastshe wasn't purposefully getting away from him. That was something already.
However, that wasn't the time for games. He really needed to talk to her; he genuinely needed her.
Because of that, because of their Force connection, he knew she would understand. Because of their bond, Luke abruptly stopped her by throwing himself in front of her and placing his hands over her shoulder pads. She was ready to fight him, she really was, until she looked further than her emotions and found his. After that, she could only stare at him with worry.
"I am troubled, Leia," he confessed, and she would be the only person he would ever confess it to. "I need you."
With a gap between her lips, she looked at him intensely, trying to decipher the emotions that were usually such an open book to her — not today, though.
"Okay. Let's go somewhere private."
She offered him all her reassuring by holding their eye contact a little longer, then found his hand on hers. His fingers were so cold, an antonym to all the life he held inside of him, and that troubled her.
Forgotten all about the great number of people around them, Leia didn't let go of his hand as she guided them somewhere secure — which happened to be her private quarter, her final destination anyway. She did not care about people so evidently watching her take a man to her room, a man that wasn't Han — as they did not know that Luke was her brother, yet. Her life was none of their business, and if they wanted to gossip about her behind her back, then let them. It would only result in word getting back to Han, and Han mocking them about it without an end.
Luke entered her cabin for what he remembered to be the first time. Personally, he had never minded her visiting the little room he was supposed to call home, but it had always felt like a breach of her privacy to go look for her there and — ah, he couldn't quite explain, but considering how little time she spent there, given her undivided attention to her work and her making the Falcon a home for herself, it hardly mattered anyway. Then, being there for the first time, part of him was surprised.
It was neatly organized — which, of course, didn't surprise him in the slightest. And it wasn't that her cabin, although still small, was generously bigger than his either — he would think that being the hero of the rebellion would earn him the best sort of accommodation they had to offer, but apparently being the last princess of a civilization still had its perks; he couldn't, nor wanted to, compete with that.
What amazed him the most was how homey it looked. The single bed in the corner of the room was perfectly made, with a beautiful linen bedding, of white and blue flowers. The wooden working desk was taken over by several datapads, to which he was sure each had their own respective purpose to Leia's work. The small round dining table, accompanied by two chairs, was decorated with a tea set, a kettle, and a plant. A plant! A plant in the most beautiful vase. Since when was Leia the type of woman to simply grow a plant?
He compressed his lips to hold back his teasing smile; there was certainly a more feminine side to Leia that she didn't show amidst the terrors of war.
"Would you like some tea? Or water? Or something to eat? You must be hungry. What was the last time you had something to eat, anyway?"
Leia's motherly behavior towards him also surprised him — especially when she was supposedly still mad at him. He appreciated it.
"I'll accept some water, thank you," he offered her a polite nod as she found a bottle of water and threw it at him. It was warm, but having grown up in Tatooine, he would gladly accept any water. "Nice place, hm, you've got here."
Leia chuckled softly. "I know what you're thinking."
He took a seat by the table without an invitation; she didn't mind. "Yeah? And what is it?"
"Well," she took her time, walking to the wardrobe that miraculously fit all her clothes. If she didn't know herself any better, she would have guessed she was stalling to have the conversation with Luke. Perhaps, she didn't know herself as well as she thought. "You're thinking, this is war. We have the remains of the Empire to defeat, and yet here I am, playing house with myself. That I am purposefully wasting the time that I was supposed to build a new Republic from scratch, only so I can have a visually pleasing room to look at as I fall asleep at night."
Luke opened his mouth to interfere, and she held her palm flat to silence him.
"The thing, Luke, is that this is my home. It's all I have. Of course, you and Han and Chewie are home, but it's nice to have a little place to call my own. Where I can let glimpses of myself shine without the fear of them being erased. Because in a war where only destruction and oppression reign, the prospect of losing the rest of my identity is daunting," a little disconnected to her surroundings, Leia ran her fingers against the closed door of the wardrobe. "I don't have a single heirloom from home. Not a personal belonging, not a private picture. It's all gone, all I have are my memories, memories that I'm terrified of losing to the flux of time. I can't afford to lose myself, now that I have nothing left. I don't want to lose the person that I once was, and I guess… I guess this is the way I found of holding tight to who I am."
Luke stared at her with both awe and discomfort, although she remained with her back to him. He would never understand her pain, because even if he had lost his home, it had never been home to him; in a way, his loss had set him free.
"I wasn't thinking that, Leia," he spoke in a lower voice, honestly — he would never judge her, not even for the silliest things that it was common for a brother to pick on their sister. "All I was thinking is that it's a nice place."
Leia smiled tenderly at him, albeit her face remained hidden to him.
"The plant did throw me off, though."
She snorted loudly, at last gathering the courage to look at him again, and found a devilish smile stamped across his face. "Chewie gave it to me, a little after Han was frozen in the carbonite. He told me that life always blooms, and I should hold tight to that promise. I did."
The little expression made him feel warm. Only a Wookie to so naturally understand the concept that the Jedi had spent hundreds of years searching for.
"Of course, I had never grown a plant before, and I nearly let it die countless times. But Chewie was always patient with me, he taught me that I should be patient as well — both with the plant and with searching for Han's whereabouts. Now, well, now Han is back, but I keep it as a reminder that life will always bloom. People might be taken from us, and it's our mission in life to carry their legacy by always taking them with us."
For a long time, Luke pondered over her words. He thought of all the people he had lost, he thought of all the people whose lives he had taken and tried to understand where he wasin the circle of life. He made that question to the Force, and the Force granted him no answer.
In his silence, Leia opened the doors to the wardrobe and started to fumble through her dresses, looking for the outfit that was most likely to tell her peers, I'm sorry my brother went bonkers in the middle of the night and I had to throw away weeks of careful planning in order to save him from his own stupidity and then having my very idiotic boyfriend deliver the report to you.
"I owe you an apology for last night."
"That you do," she mumbled under her breath, pulling out a blue dress that she judged suitably. She did not expect, however, that Luke would immediately grimace at her choice, much less that she would listen to him and hang it back to search for another one — him, her brother who virtually understood nothing about fashion!
"I will apologize to you, Leia," he pledged, shaking his head once again when she pulled out a green dress. "I will make it up to you, but I need to explain myself to you first, and I fear… I'm afraid it is a story of darkness. Will you let me do as much?"
She eyed him sideways. "You don't have to ask, Luke."
"Thank you," he bowed his head respectfully. He would ask, and he would always listen to her if she needed to stop — even if she did not say it out loud. Especially when his story involved matters she wasn't comfortable acknowledging — such as the innate darkness in all of them. She retrieved an orange dress, and he couldn't hold himself back, "That is a hideous dress. Why would you even buy that dreadful thing?!"
Leia gasped at him indecorously, "It's not—Han likes it."
"No, he doesn't," Luke assured, "He's only too scared of you to say it."
With an annoyed expression, Leia simply threw it to the floor, with no intention of picking it up ever again. She went back to her fumbling.
"You see, Leia, I learned some truths last night that scared me. And in my fright, I ran away. I ran away to find answers because I was terrified of the answers I would find within myself," he confessed, leaning his elbows into his thighs. "I still am, and I can't afford to be scared. In fear lies a Jedi's weakness."
"That's stupid," Leia whispered, more to herself than to him, but she sensed that his curiosity peaked, even with her back to him. "Fear is our superpower. Fear is your superpower. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for our fear, fear of oppression, and censure. There's nothing wrong with being scared, since being scared heightens our senses and ensures us of our survival."
Luke listened to her, he really did, but—
"Maybe for you, for other people, but my fear is my enemy. It is not the Jedi way to be afraid."
"The Jedi are all dead, Luke," she spoke harsh words in a gentle word; she understood that was the last thing he wanted to hear, but he needed to hear it. "Maybe, if they had been slightly more afraid, they wouldn't have stood by idly as Palpatine seized all power to himself until it was too late to do anything about it."
He swallowed hard, taking some offense on behalf of all the other Jedi — although, subconsciously, he understood the guilt wasn't his to take. "I don't think it's that simple."
"Nothing is ever that simple, Luke," she smiled condescendingly.
He breathed out heavily. "Anyway, you're the one to talk."
Frowning, Leia looked at him, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You're the most fearless person I know, Leia."
A little surprised with such an analysis, Leia shook her head sideways. "That is simply not true, Luke."
"Yes, it is," he guaranteed. "I look at you and I see no fear. I feel no fear coming from you."
"Then you're not looking right," she accused sharply, and he raised both his hands in defense. She sighed, "The war terrifies me, I have only learned how to compress my sentiments. As a sovereign and a public figure, it is not my place to demonstrate fear, I must be strong for my people, for the people I lead. But my fear is a constant part of me, and I hold on tight to it. It aided my strength to resist Vader's probing, it helped me not to give up when Han was frozen and lost to us. Above all, it vitalizes me. The remaining of my people are significantly more afraid than I; my people that died on Alderaan were naturally terrified to death. I owe it to them to own my fear and turn it into something good. Something better than what the war gave me."
Luke glanced at her with admiration. "I wish I could be like you."
Once again, she shook her head. "You're perfect enough as you already are."
He exhaled tiredly — he wished he could see that grandeur in himself that everyone seemed to be so amazed with. "Yesterday, when I learned of Anakin's fall, I was terrified. Because he was good, and he fell trying to save the ones he loved. He fell trying to save us! He had so much love to give, and I have so much love to give — what's stopping me from following his steps?"
As discomfort crept into her at the mention of her father, she diverted her attention back to her wardrobe, giving herself something solid to hold on to. "Selfish love outweighs genuine love."
Luke unconsciously grimaced, "You can't be certain of the nature of Anakin's love—yes, you should wear that one. It's a beautiful dress."
Leia eyed the black dress in her hands with suspicion.
"I don't think I've ever seen you wearing black before."
"I've never worn it before," she kept her glance on the outfit. "I don't wear black. I don't like it."
He looked at her with troubled curiosity. "Why did you get it, then?"
"It was immediately after Alderaan, and…" she closed her fists tightly around the satin fabric, "I was grieving."
His face fell. "Then why didn't you wear it?"
"I realized that if I gave in to my grief, I would never stop mourning," she confessed with a tight heart and threw the dress down to the floor as well. "You can't be sure of it, either."
"What?!"
"Of the nature of Anakin's love," she denounced. "Besides, you're not Vader. You're his antilogy."
He buried his face on the palm of his hand. "I don't want to become him. I fear that if I dare to look too deep inside of myself, I will only find darkness there."
She grabbed a white dress, one that would remind her peers of her youthful innocence and naivety — well, fool them was more like it. Not looking for her brother's approval, she carefully placed it over her bed, before sitting down in the mattress herself.
"There's only good in you, Luke," she said, folding her legs under her.
Pursuing his lips, he looked down to the floor. "You can't know that for sure."
"Yes, I can."
There was silence for a while, one that didn't bother them, one that merely gave Luke the time he needed to sort his thoughts.
"That's why I went to the Jedi Temple," he admitted, his consciousness starting to weigh on him. "I wanted to… reconnect with those that came before me. I wanted to forge a sacred bond with the Force, I wanted to be reminded of light, I wanted to step out of the darkness. I was lost, and going to the Jedi Temple was the only way I knew of doing so."
"You should have told me," she spoke melancholically.
"So you'd have stopped me?"
"So I'd have gone with you."
Luke glanced at her a little aghast. "You would have?"
"Of course," truth be told, she was a little offended that he'd think otherwise. "I'd look after you, I'd protect you."
He wrapped his arms around himself, a bit self-conscious.
"I guess that's why I'm so mad at you, anyway," she prompted, mimicking him and evading looking directly at him. "Because you imprudently risked your life, when I—we—could have been there to make sure nothing would have happened."
"I didn't do it to hurt you," he cried, "I did it because I needed to be alone. I was troubled and wasn't thinking rationally. All I wanted was to achieve my inner peace again.
"I understand, and I respect that," she threaded carefully, "However, I can't excuse your deeds. You could have died, all because you didn't think to let anyone know of your whereabouts. Not a single message, Luke…! Sith forbid we couldn't trace you, you'd be forever gone from us and we would have no idea of what might have happened to you. In your imprudence, you chose to put your sister and your mother through that."
She wasn't mad; in fact, he couldn't recall the last time he had seen her lecture him so calmly. Luke would have thought he would appreciate that change in her behavior, rather than have her screaming her anger at him — instead, it troubled him. Because that wasn't the Leia he knew, and it was a reminder of how badly he had hurt her.
"I'm sorry, Leia," he apologized, genuinely, noticing how her eyes started twitching. "I know my plea doesn't change anything, that it doesn't erase the suffering that I put you all through last night, but I really am sorry. I hope your heart knows that I will never do anything to willingly hurt you."
"I know, Luke," she did — which made it infinitely harder.
In return, his own eyes started to gather evidence of his emotions. "I understand that it was you who found me…"
She raised her hand to her mouth, trying to contain her sentiments. "No."
"It wasn't?!" he asked, dubiously.
"No, let's not talk about this," she finished her sentence, her voice lower than before. Just like him, she wrapped her arms around herself, and she never felt so small.
"But we need, Leia," he advised, "You weren't ready for that."
"No, I wasn't."
They both sighed simultaneously.
"How did you do it, Leia?" he insisted on asking, despite knowing her refusal to talk about it. He knew better than to let that single event defile her relationship with the Force — if it hadn't already.
"I don't know."
Resistant to give up, Luke closed his eyes to find her presence in the Force already. He reached for her and touched the white strings of her essence with all his love and tenderness.
She smiled. With her eyes closed as well, she embraced his comfort, holding tightly to their kindred spirits. To her, that would be enough; to focus all her strength in the Force in her brother alone and their connection — that was all the power she desired.
"I'm scared," she thought to herself, she thought to the Force. She didn't expect anyone—anything—to hear her, but the voice of her brother inside her head came to her both as a startle and a comfort.
"Weren't you just telling me that fear is your superpower?"
With a deep inhale, she opened her eyes again and found him staring back at her with those big dove eyes. She saw her reflection in his eyes and understood he was the one person she could be vulnerable to.
"I woke up in the middle of the night with a tight feeling in my chest," she began, avoiding eye contact, but keeping her voice steady. "I thought it was a nightmare — a bad nightmare, you know, one of those powerful enough to keep me awake for days straight. But no; no matter how bad my nightmares can be, they never felt like that. Like a knife impaled in my heart. Sorry, I don't know how else to describe it."
"I understand very well," he replied, torn between staying there and sitting next to her. He decided that, until she invited him, it would be best to keep his distance. "I have also… felt like that… when you were in danger."
For a second, she frowned, trying to remember the last time she was evidently in danger to cause such a shift in the Force — and when she remembered that it had occurred in Jabba's palace, she shivered, and quickly shoved the memory away.
"Oh."
In a way, it was comforting to know that she had never truly been alone, that she would never be alone. However, she didn't want her brother prying over her pains. They were hers, and hers only.
"Yeah."
Sniffing, she carried on. "At first, I didn't know what it meant, only that something was wrong. Until I thought of you, and the breath of your life didn't come to me. I knew you were in danger, then."
"How did you find me?" he asked again, a little curious. "I remember that I purposefully shut myself from you. I didn't want to trouble you."
"Next time, keep in mind that your twin sister might be desperately looking for you," she gave him a face, but it soon dissolved into nothing. "I don't know, Luke. If you asked me to do it again, I wouldn't know how to."
"Your power lies within you, Leia," Luke said, "You don't earn it, you're born with it. The Force chooses special people, people that are capable of great things, and it aids them with the bliss of life. With this connection that binds us to everything, to the universe itself."
"You just made that up."
Luke scoffed. "Well, I don't actually know how the Force chooses us. But I suppose it predicts our potential to do great things."
"Anyone can be special," Leia whispered, "We don't need to be bound by the Force to achieve greatness. On the contrary."
He frowned and waited for her to explain
"The Force… It gives people an illusion of grandeur. It makes them think they're superior to everyone else, and… All this power concentrated in the hands of the wrong people and an Empire of evil rises."
Any other day, he would have debunked her line of thinking. Any other day, he would have argued that the Force only gives, and it's the people's fault of what they do with the power they are given. Today, when he was questioning the darkness inside of himself, he wouldn't do that. Today, he would simply stand up, sit again next to her, and hold her hand.
"The Force in the hands of good people is a good thing," he held her hand tightly. "If you accepted this power, Leia, you would only achieve great things. For yourself and the galaxy."
"It's alright," she said, a little patronizing. "I already have my power as a monarch and a politician. I know I can build us a better galaxy employing my knowledge only."
He chuckled lightly, folding his legs under him as well and they were both casually sitting at her bed, looking at each other. "You're capable of great things, Leia."
She smiled tenderly at him.
"You're going to build us the greatest New Republic," he carried on, feeling a little proud of having his little sister — and he meant that in affection for how small she was in comparison; otherwise, he was certain she had been born first, from the way she acted — at the vanguard of all the great things that were still to come. "Because of that, Leia, I need to tell you something."
Her smile dissipated from her lips almost immediately; his tone threw him off, and when reckless decided to search the Force for some insight, her feelings didn't lessen her worry.
"What is it, Luke?" she asked, her breath stuck in her throat, "You're scaring me."
"Don't be scared," he reached out to grab her hand, "This time, I promise you have nothing to be scared of. It's something I must do for myself, and all I want is for you to be proud of me."
"You don't have to do anything to prove yourself to me, Luke," she said, a little desperate at whatever he had in mind — she didn't even need to be Force sensitive to know it wasn't anything good. "I am proud of you. Of everything you've achieved and everything you've become. You're good, Luke. You're enough."
He appreciated her words — they made a difference, but, unfortunately, not a difference big enough.
"This isn't something I have just decided to do," he tried to explain, tried to make it easier. "It has been bothering me for a while, ever since I joined the war and became part of something greater than myself."
Her eyes were suddenly filled with a thin moist layer. "What has changed? We've won the war, Luke. We're slowly rebuilding the galaxy that we gave our lives for. We finally get to claim our happiness!"
"You're not happy, Leia," he declared, not trying to accuse her, merely pointed it out. He said it with a melancholic approach, still holding tightly to her — both physically and spiritually. "You try to be, you want to be, but I see through you, Leia. The war has taken everything from you, and you don't know how to be happy again."
She breathed in heavily, finding it hard to look at his eyes but forcing herself to. She was terrified that, if she dared to look away, he would disappear on her. "I concede to that, but you're not me, Luke. I look at you and… you're happy! You've got your mother back, and—and you found me! You're happy, Luke, I… I don't understand."
"I am happy, Leia. You, my family, make me happy," he assured, and when she was about to protest, he offered a look to silence her. "But I don't think it's right for me to be happy at the sake of other people's unhappiness."
At this point, she could no longer breathe, "What are you talking about?"
"Leia," he said her name carefully, wetting his lips while he properly gathered his thoughts. "Last night, I was reminded of all the things that I've done in the course of the war, all the blood in my hands, and I concluded that it's not right for me to sit idly back when I was responsible for the life of so many innocent people."
Her eyes were big and startled and scared. She did not know how to react.
And her lack of reaction allowed him to speak without an ounce of fear.
"I'm going to turn myself in."
Leia Organa never thought it possible for her emotions to fail her. She never thought there would come a day where she did not feel anger, nor sorrow, nor happiness, nor peace. Only emptiness.
"W… What?"
"I'm going to turn myself in, for my war crimes," he spoke again, slowly, in case there were any issues of miscommunication from her end — he was no fool, though. He knew she had understood exactly what he meant. "It wasn't an easy decision, but I can't live in peace knowing of all the people whose innocent lives I've taken. I need to pay for my sins. I can't—I won't become Vader."
Abruptly, she yanked her hands from his grasp and got up. Walking to the opposite side of the room, she stood on her back to him. Her arms crossed, her heart aching, her soul left behind with the brother she had all but lost.
"No."
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He knew this conversation wouldn't be an easy one to have — so far, it was living up to his expectations.
"Leia, this is my decision, and my decision only," he reasoned, unsure of how willingly she was to listen to him. "I don't want to hurt you, or Padmé! I just got Padmé back, and you, my twin sister! I don't want to lose you, but this is the only way I know of making my errors right. I need you to respect my decision, Leia."
"No…!" this time, she screamed, her fists clenching angrily to her sides. "I will not let you do this."
"Leia—" he tried to stay calm; he wasn't about to lose it at her, but she was making it everything harder than it was supposed to be. "I can't count all the people whose lives I've taken. I have no idea how many people cried because of me, because I've taken their fathers and their mothers and siblings and children away from them. I need to make amends to them."
In return, she only offered him her silence, and her breathing was almost as loud as Vader's.
He dropped his legs to the ground, aching to go to her yet frightened to do so. "I'm sorry, Leia. I know this isn't what you wanted to hear, and I hate to go without your bliss, but I will do this with or without your support. I'm just sorry it has to be this way."
"No!" she yelled louder than before, and, in her anger, she slammed her clenched fist against the wall. Furiously, channeling all her rage into one simple act. It was loud, it was painful, it didn't even come close to subsiding the hatred she felt for her brother at that moment. She repeated, "I will notlet you do this."
"It is my choice, Leia," he cried, holding anxiously to his own knees. "I don't want to hurt you, I would never willingly hurt you. But bear in my mind that your reluctance to accept my choice hurts me."
"I don't care," she snapped, her entire being consumed by her exasperation. She couldn't believe someone would be this stupid…! "You want to turn yourself in, fine, go ahead. Just bear in mind that I am in charge of this new galaxy, and it's up entirely up to me whether you're sentenced to your war crimes or not."
He gasped at her allegation — he would have never expected she would go this far, and that notion scared him.
"You wouldn't. You would never abuse your power, that goes against everything you stand for. You would never betray your ethics like that for anyone, not even your brother."
She looked over her shoulders with eyes as lifeless as death. Those startled him almost as much as the streams of tears descending her cheeks.
"Try me."
Her tone was so hollow and dark that, for the first time in his life, he didn't doubt her capability to bend the rules to protect those she loved. Flashes of Anakin's fall glimpsed through his mind while shivers of terror ran down his spine. That was not supposed to happen.
Hesitantly, he rose to his feet, and dreadfully walked to her. "It's my choice, Leia," he said for the zillionth time, unsure of how else to get her to listen to him. "As my sister, you should respect it, rather than try to erase the hardest decision I ever made for myself."
"It's not just your choice, Luke!" she retorted sharply, hysterically, and there was no controlling the tears escaping her eyes. "It involves everyone in your life! Me, and Padmé, and Han, and Chewbacca! We're all affected by your stupid choices! We all suffer the consequences of you recklessly deciding to go to jail!"
"Leia, you don't understand!" he yelled back, not caring how harsh he sounded. "I blew up two Death Stars! I killed millions of people with one single shot! That isn't right, Leia!"
"They were imperials!" Leia shouted, her vision blurry.
"That doesn't mean anything!" he tried to reason, "Most of them just wanted to put food on their children's plate! Most of them didn't have the luxury of being political! Most of them died for a cause that didn't belong to them!"
"Are you even listening to yourself right now?!" her heart was pounding inside her chest, "Nobody forced them to work for the Empire. There are countless other ways to make a living that goes against making way for the Empire to thrive!"
He crossed his arms, "Han was in the Imperial Academy."
"Yeah, and he evaded because he refused to stand by to the Empire's evil deeds!" she replied angrily.
He shook his head negatively, "The world is not in black and white, Leia. It's time you step out of your bubble and realize that not all people are like you. Few people grew up in safety and wealth and had the chance to stand up for their beliefs. Most people struggled too much only to get by. Most people don't have the choice to have a choice."
"Sure, Luke, I might have once been the privileged little princess who lived inside the bubble of her ideals, but not anymore," for the first time, she lowered her voice, "Those very people that you're defending popped the bubble and stole everything from me. Those very people that you're putting on a pedestal tortured me until I could no longer breathe."
He was desperate to look away, but against his better judgment, he resisted the urge. "That's not what you're angry about."
"You're right," she accused, her eyes fuming. "I'm angry because you're walking away. You're choosing the easy way out and locking yourself in a stupid cell. You're electing to give up, and I can offer you no respect for that."
With his hand over his face, he pulled the skin of his face down to his chin in pure annoyance. "Did you not hear anything that I told you?"
"All I hear is that instead of making your past mistakes right by continuing to keep the galaxy safe from evil, you've decided to remove yourself from the equation. I have no respect for someone who cowers instead of standing tall amidst their fears."
"I don't understand, Leia," he cried, "I don't understand you. I thought you would be proud that I chose to redeem myself for my crimes."
"How can I be proud of you if you're running away from your crimes, rather than fighting to make them right again?" she attacked him mercilessly, pointing her index at him. "I will never forgive you if you choose to back away, Luke. I swear, if you insist on this gibberish of glorifying your honor by victimizing yourself, I won't ever absolve you."
"I'm not doing any of that," he denounced, bitter that she would ever think this low of him. "But you don't understand what it's life to take away the life of others with your own hands. To extinguish innocent life! I don't understand why you simply can't let me do this, what I need to do for myself, other than for your fear of being alone."
She saw him walking away, so determined with his convictions that he refused to hear her side. In her raging stubbornness, she was willing to let him go. She would be ready to never look at his face again, if only she weren't so afraid of another heartbreak.
"Because, Luke," she screamed at him when he was about to reach the door to step out of her life forever, as it would seem. "What about me?!
"You?" he looked sideways, with a slight scoff. "You'll move on, like you always do."
Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes; he had missed her point completely.
"I don't have the luxury of turning myself in!"
A little intrigued, Luke dared to turn around to face her again. "You don't have blood in your hands, Leia. Not like I do."
"I killed Alderaan, Luke!" this time, she yelled hoarsely, like she had no strength left inside of her. "You want to talk about the innocent blood that was spilled in the war? Forget a few stormtroopers that chose to give their lives to the Empire. I killed every Alderaanian when they weren't even in the war. Their blood is in my hands, and I don't get to walk away from that."
"No, Leia," he slowly paced back to her, with both his hands in the air, "The Empire destroyed Alderaan, not you. You didn't press the button."
"I might as well have!" The flux of her tears was intense, and she had long given up trying to stop it. "It doesn't matter who pressed the button, because I was responsible for Alderaan's obliteration."
"Would you listen to yourself, Leia!" his tone carried more of an order than a request. "What happened to Alderaan is not on your shoulders. You're not responsible for every single misdeed that our father has done."
"You don't understand, Luke!" she replied frantically, her hands shaking to the point there was no trying to hide it. "They chose to obliterate Alderaan because of me! Because I was reckless in my mission and let myself get caught! Because I resisted all the torture they had set aside for me and wouldn't reveal the location of the Rebellion secret base!"
"Being resilient isn't a bad thing!" Each step closer to her he took, the more cornered she became. "I know you, Leia, you would never trade tactical information for your life. If you had, you'd have never been able to live with yourself."
"That's the thing, Luke! I was ready to give my life for the cause! I was ready to die the moment Darth Vader boarded my ship and killed everybody else aboard! But the life of Alderaan should have never been in the line of fire!"
"You wouldn't trade information for Alderaan, either," he tried to reason, "You didn't. You've always held tight to your morals, and that's what makes you so honorable."
"Maybe I should have!" she gesticulated with her arms crudely.
"Leia—"
"If the Empire had found the Rebellion secret base, fine, they would have run away, as we've always done. If the Empire had exterminated the Rebellion, fine, new people would have stepped up the cause and another rebellion would be born," she inferred, gravely. "Either way, the Rebellion would have thriven. Unlike Alderaan, that will forever be space dust."
Luke crossed his arms, uncomfortably. He understood her line of thinking very well, but he also knew that it wasn't healthy for her to bargain for a timeline that was impossible to ever happen.
"I wouldn't be able to live with myself had I selfishly traded information for my own survival, no," she admitted hoarsely, "I'm barely able to live with myself for not trading valuable information for Alderaan."
He walked nearer her, to the point he was invading her personal space. He was no longer concerned with the possibility of doing more harm than good, because all harm had already been done. "Nobody blames you for what happened, Leia."
She scoffed ironically, because it didn't make any difference — she blamed herself.
"You shouldn't blame yourself either," he said, hearing her unspoken words. "Look at everything you've done for the Rebellion, everything that you still do. I understand that it's hard to let go of the responsibility you feel for your home planet, but you need to at least forgive yourself."
Leia shook her head, looking down. "I will never forgive myself, but that's okay. I know my duty to the last of my people, and I will never walk away from them. Their sorrow falls onto me, and I must do everything in my power to make sure that they will suffer no more. That's why I can't turn myself in, Luke. I have a duty, and I am more favorable to making a difference out here, than punishing myself for my crimes inside a cell."
Guilty, Luke allowed silence to linger.
"I am begging you to do the same. I know it's selfish of me, but I can't afford to lose anybody else. I'm not sure I would make it."
With his hard pounding inside of him, Luke stepped forward and wrapped her in his fold. As he held her tight, she trembled uncontrollably in his embrace, but she did not make a sound. If she cried, she cried silently. Until her emotions became insufferable, and she hugged him back. Strongly, too desperate that it would be the last time.
With his face half-hidden over the top of her head, he felt his own tears escaping his eyes. He did not care to wipe them away, though; he knew he was in the safest place in the galaxy.
"I won't abandon you," he promised her in a whisper, so only she would hear him. He understood, at that moment, that she needed him much more than he'd imagined; it wouldn't be right to surrender to his agony and pull himself out from the world.
Because, after all — like always — Leia was right. He would only redeem his crimes by making the galaxy a better place than before, not by excluding himself from the galaxy that he had given his life for.
In appreciation of his vow, Leia held him tighter than before.
"I need you to promise me something, though," he said, a little surprised that she would pull away to look at his eyes again. With his thumbs, he delicately wept her cheeks, uncaring that his own resembled the same. "I don't want to become Vader."
"You won't, Luke," she replied, her voice a little shaken and unlike her every tone that had flicked with emotions across their heated argument. "I look at you, and I only see light."
He smiled tenderly, wishing nothing more than to believe her. "I don't want to become Vader, Leia," he repeated, his own emotions starting to betray him. "I need you to promise me that, if you ever fail to see that light inside of me, if you begin to only see darkness, you won't let the darkness become me."
She stared at him startled, perceiving very well his meaning but praying that she had misunderstood him. "Luke—"
"I need you to promise you will end it."
"You want me to promise to kill you?"
Blankly, she couldn't think. For several moments, she wished she was somewhere else, anywhere, so she wouldn't have to pledge her heart to his asking. She had suffered enough, but none of her sufferings seemed to prepare her for the painful hollow of that instant.
"Will you do the same for me?"
"Leia," he tilted his head in compassion, "You don't have to worry about that. You're a vessel of light, and your power will always lie on the path of good. You're a beacon of honor to all those that follow you, myself including."
His words fell on deaf ears, because he had also ignored her assurance of the good in him.
"Will you do the same for me?"
Reluctantly, he bowed his head nobly.
"Okay, then."
Too scared to face the consequences of her promise, Leia hid herself against his chest again. Likewise, Luke buried his chin on her hair, and they would stay like that forever, amidst their fear of whatever the future held for them.
In their minds, only one promise remained — life would always bloom.
A/N: oof, so this chapter was a roller coaster of emotions, to say the least lmao. i just really really love writing leia and luke and the dynamics of their relationship.
let me know what you think about luke's decision!