To say that Luke was excited to finally have his own tour of Padmé's old apartment was an understatement.
His eyes glowed with enthusiasm as he first stepped into the home that he was once supposed to call his own; his heart thundered fast with his excitement and he wanted to cherish that moment forever.
Padmé simply let him be; she watched from afar as he explored the place and touched everything in sight — sensing the love and hope that once consumed the apartment, she understood. She happily entertained him with answers to his every question, no matter how frivolous they seemed; she knew just how much it meant to him.
Padmé had come back to the apartment a few times after hers and Leia's night out, intending to get rid of unnecessary stuff of her past and getting the place tidied up; however, she had never brought herself to spend the night alone there. She was starting to share Ameera's discomfort with solitude, and her old home never seemed so big as to when she was alone there.
Too many ghosts. Everywhere she looked, she saw glimpses of the life that had been stolen from her. With Luke there, though, she could relish his happiness to find links to his past, instead.
"Mother, this place is huge," Luke commented loudly, lost somewhere inside the apartment and Padmé couldn't see him. She could, however, hear the eagerness behind his voice. "I know that rich people have big houses, but experiencing it is something else."
Padmé snorted loudly at his comparison, and he soon emerged into the living room again. "This was once a very crowded apartment. It needed to be big, so everyone would have their privacy and not suffocate on each other's presence."
Luke eyed her funnily. "You mean, you needed space from my father —?"
"No," she replied gently, "But I used to live here with my handmaidens and my personal guards when I first moved to Coruscant. My handmaidens were my friends and my allies, and my guards — well, I wasn't that eager to have them breathing down on my neck all the time, but I understood the importance of having them. Especially as an inexperienced senator in the frightening political world."
Luke smiled, giving a face to every person she had mentioned and wondering what their personalities had been like. From the way she spoke of them, they clearly once meant so much to her.
"What happened, ern," he asked a little shyly, "Once you married my father in secrecy? Were they still here?"
"Your father and I got married just when the Clone Wars started," Padmé reminisced, "He was away protecting the galaxy far more often than he was home, and in his absence, I didn't mind spending time with my handmaidens. However, after Cordé, one of my handmaidens, died protecting me, it all felt so… wrong. Of course they all knew the dangers of their jobs, they were all ready to give their lives for me, but — knowing that somebody died to protect you isn't an easy burden to carry. And when they asked me, one by one, to leave and follow their own paths, I could only give them my bliss to go. Until only I was left behind."
Coyly, he approached her with cautious steps. "That must have been very lonely."
"It was," she agreed sadly, "It wasn't long until I learned I was pregnant with you, though, and my solitude was no more."
At that, Luke smiled, his eyes wandering away to explore the place once again.
"I can't believe this is where we were supposed to grow up," he said, lost in his thoughts, "It seems so… unreal."
Padmé nodded, taking small steps after him. "Well, I wanted to raise you in Naboo," she said, "Not here. I wanted you to live a life free of worries, free of restraints. I don't think I would have fully stepped away from my political life, but… I could have taken a step back, working back home rather than still being here in the Senate. Above all, I… I wanted you to have a close family. People other than me and your father that you could rely on."
Interested, Luke searched for her with the corner of his eyes. "You mean your family in Naboo?"
Silently, she conceded.
"Tell me about them."
"Oh," Padmé was taken by surprise; she hadn't talked about them for so long. "Well — what would you like to know?"
"Everything," he said, "After all, they… They're my family as well, right?"
Padmé smiled at that. "They are."
She found herself a seat, although Luke remained standing.
"I was raised by the greatest parents I could ask for," she said warmly, remembering the people that had taken care of her fondly. "My father, Ruwee, was a local politician, and I suppose he was my gateway into the political world as well. My mother, Jobal, was a seamstress, and she had the biggest heart you'd ever see in anybody. They always encouraged me to follow my path, even if that path led me to move to Coruscant and barely seeing them due to my work. But they loved me, and they were very supportive of me, and that's all I could have ever asked for."
Beaming to himself, Luke sat in front of her.
"Growing up, that was all that I ever wanted," Luke recollected sadly, "To have parents, foster or not, that supported my life choices. Aunt Beru did, but there was little she could do, because of Uncle Owen. He never allowed me to chase my dreams, no matter how small they were. It was always about working at the moisture farm and just that."
Joylessly, Padmé reached out to touch his knee.
"You deserved better than that," she said, "Luke — you deserved everything the galaxy had to offer you. You were always destined for greatness."
Luke shrugged. "I know that, for my own safety, I couldn't be sent off to Naboo to be raised by them, but… Sometimes I wonder how different things would have been if only."
Padmé compressed her lips; if — when she went back to Naboo to present herself to her family again, having the twins following her close behind, she knew lots of questions would arise — questions about why the twins hadn't been sent to them, included. The Naberries were a force of nature, and they fiercely protected one of their kind, so the news that they had lost not only their daughter but their grandkids in life would weigh on them. Padmé sighed.
"They would have spoiled you a lot, I can promise you as much," Padmé prompted, noticing sadly how Luke lit up at the prospect. "And — you wouldn't grow up alone. You'd have two cousins to play with, Pooja and Ryoo, my sister's daughters."
"They were my age?" Luke asked excitedly.
"Ryoo was nine, by the time you were born, and Pooja was about five," she said, "Not exactly close to age but, well, children manage," she laughed, "Sola, my sister, was about four years older than me, and we were still attached to the hip while growing up."
He smiled melancholically at that.
"I know there's no point in wishing for things of the past, but I wonder what it would have been like growing up with Leia," he suggested, "I wonder if we would drive each other insane or if we would be inseparable."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Padmé laughed. "Under the circumstances in which you were all each other had left, you would have been very close, although your closeness wouldn't erase all the times you'd feel like slapping each other in the face."
Luke seemed abhorred with the idea. "I would never slap my sister, mother…!"
Amused, Padmé shook her head. "You say that now. I can attest that many times you and your sister would threaten to kill each other — and not at all in quick and painless ways."
"I would never," Luke seemed determined, "Leia, however—"
Padmé rolled her eyes.
"Be nice to your sister."
Luke chuckled. "After all you've told me, you're gonna try and convince me that you and Sola were always nice to each other?"
"Definitely not," she commented, "However, and I do feel very strongly about carrying this specific family tradition — my parents were always reprimanding us and insisting we should be nice to each other. So I'm terribly sorry, Luke, but you're going to have to deal with this as well."
He laughed. "Well, so long as Leia gets the same treatment—"
"She does," Padmé reassured.
Pleased with the answer, he let it go.
"Padmé," he called for her, and she knew it to be something serious as he so seldom addressed her by her name. "Will I ever have the chance to meet your family?"
"Of course," Padmé quickly answered, her voice full of certainty; even if she still had so much insecurity regarding her family to quell, she knew she couldn't run away from there forever, and — she wanted so badly for her family to meet her children; even if she hadn't raised them, she wanted her family to be proud of the heroes that had come from her.
She sighed, noticing from Luke's silence that he was waiting for a little more than that.
"I am waiting — for everyone to be in a better… mindset," she elucidated, her vision now locked to her hands on her lap. "I don't want us to fly to Naboo to meet them while still struggling with our own issues only to be quarreled by them there."
"Come on, they're your family," Luke suggested, "What so bad could happen?"
"Family can be very overwhelming, especially when they want to be," she prompted, "Especially once they learn that they were grieving for a loved one that was still alive, only hidden from them."
"Is that why you're so scared of them?"
"I'm not scared of them," she corrected, "I'm scared for them. Luke, I — I've been there. I've dealt with my fair share of resentment for having my children taken from me and missing over two decades of their lives. They'll hurt just as badly to know that they were deprived of years of both me and my children."
"They can't fault you for keeping us from them," Luke reasoned, "Not when you didn't know of us."
"Granted, but…" she exhaled tiredly, "Families and emotions are complicated. They will be very sad nonetheless for everything they missed. And I can't blame them for such a reaction."
Luke smiled sorrowfully, "Because you've felt the same?"
"More often than I would like," Padmé chuckled ironically, before looking at him again. "Somedays, it is very hard, when you're struck with the grievance for everything that was stolen from you."
It was Luke's turn to reach out and touch her leg.
"Then, I look at you, and I look at Leia, and it's like it never mattered, because I am here now and I have you and I'm not losing you ever again."
He smiled at that, and so did she.
"Padmé," there it was again, his serious and somehow hesitant voice. "Do you think your family will like me?"
Her eyes widened, his question catching her by surprise. Not because he dreaded her family would dislike him — on the contrary — but she wondered where his sudden insecurity came from.
"I ask, because—" he flushed, tripping on his words. "Well, I suppose Uncle Owen didn't exactly like me. He tolerated me and my existence, and just that. And Leia — I think it took her a while to start liking me. So I was wondering—"
"There's nothing wrong with your character," Padmé vowed before he had the chance to finish his sentence. "I can't pretend I understand Owen Lars' irritability, but you were just a child, you weren't at fault for that. And Leia — well, you met Leia immediately after Alderaan, so I'm certain she was far more busying trying to hold herself together than assessing how much she liked you."
His cheeks reddening, he agreed.
"Besides — for what it's worth, I did like you ever since the moment we first met," she smirked broadly, "Far more than I initially liked Leia, as I was too busy being terrified of her."
Luke laughed loudly at her humor; he couldn't blame her for that, as they all had been there once — especially Han.
"It's really been some wild months, hasn't it," he commented, nostalgic as it all seemed so far in the past and barely the other day at the same time. "I'm glad we've come to a point where we can almost call ourselves — a traditional family."
Padmé chuckled.
"Don't think there's anything traditional when the patriarch of the family is Darth Vader," she joked, Luke's look of horror making it even funnier. "Come on. I've found a few things that I assumed you'd like to see."
His curiosity peaked, Luke followed her deep inside the apartment until they had reached a small den where two boxes laid. Instructing he should sit down by the couch, she picked up one of them and gave it to him.
"It's just a bunch of stuff I've found laying around that I assumed you'd want to have," she said, a little self-consciously, "But if you don't want them, it's fine."
"Mother, of course I want them," he eagerly responded, long before opening the box. He lifted his chin towards the second box, "Is that one for Leia?"
"Yeah," she nervously, "But I'm not sure if I should give them to her."
"Why not?" he frowned.
"I'd feel bad giving her heirlooms from my past when she doesn't have anything left from her past."
"Oh," his gaze dropped. "Maybe that should be just another reason why you should give them to her. So she'll have something to hold tight to."
"Yeah, maybe," Padmé sighed, dropping herself to his side. "Are you going to open it?"
Excitedly, he opened the box.
The box was filled with a couple of trinkets from Padmé's past; Luke immediately felt a brush of comfort through the Force. There wasn't much there, and although he didn't know where to begin, he was suddenly drawn to a stack of envelopes, held together by a rubber band. He pulled it out.
Padmé smiled warmly at that. "Oh, those. The letters your father and I wrote to each other while he was away in the Clone Wars. I know what you're thinking, that this is so archaic of us when we could have very easily used datapads, but datapads are very easy to hack. When you're living a clandestine marriage, well, all secrecy is welcomed."
"I was thinking it's rather romantic," Luke commented. "Can I read them?"
"Of course," Padmé said, "Don't worry, I set aside all the letters that you're too young to read."
Luke's eyes widened and he became red at the innuendo. Padmé amusedly chuckled at him.
"I'm kidding," she said, although making a face to herself — well, mostly. Lucky for her, Luke didn't see it. "These are mostly just letters of us telling each other of our battles, him on the battlefield and me in the Senate. You know, little things that we would like to tell each other but didn't matter enough to take place over other things when we got to call each other."
Luke nodded. "I can't wait to read them. Not to privy on your love life, far from that, but… I believe I'll get to learn a little bit more about Anakin through his personal letters.
"For sure," Padmé agreed, watching as he put the letters aside and pulled out a long black cloth. "Your father's favorite cape."
Luke's eyes sparkled as he held the piece of clothing dearly in his hands.
"I couldn't find that much stuff from your father," she said melancholically. "It's all — gone. I assume that, after I died and he became Vader, he must have come back here to erase all the attachments to the human he had once been. Somehow… the cape stayed."
Luke pulled the cape close to his heart, wondering if it still smelled like his father. It only smelled of dust.
"It survived because I was fairly attached to the cape," she ventured, "I was pregnant, and I was all alone, and all I wanted was to feel your father's presence next to me. Maybe it was much more of my favorite cape of his than the other way around," she laughed, but her laugh was hollow. "I kept it separated from his clothes, keeping it with mine instead. So, I found it in the back of the wardrobe. Almost intact to the trickeries of time."
"You're giving it to me, mother?" Luke asked, his voice full of emotion.
"It's yours," Padmé said, gently placed her hand over his shoulder. "You're smaller than him, so it'll probably be a little too big for you. Nothing that we can't fix, though, if you want to wear it. Or if you just want to keep it safely stored as an heirloom, it's okay."
"Do I have to decide now?"
She discreetly giggled. "It's yours, Luke."
He laid the cloak over his lap, setting it aside before it became too much.
Blinking fast, he reached out for another piece of clothing there, this time made of soft wool. He pulled it out and noticed it to be a baby onesie. It had his name embroidered on it. A sense of warmth took over him.
"This was supposed to be mine?"
"Yes," Padmé heartily conceded. "I… I made it myself. I was so convinced we were having a boy that I had chosen your name long before you were born. I know my knitting isn't the best, especially not compared to my mother's, but… I wanted my baby to have something that I made for them. Something that they could remember me by after I was gone."
Luke smiled fondly at the tiny onesie in his hands. "It's beautiful, mother, and it means so much. To know how loved I was long before I was even born. I will cherish this forever, even if I, well, will never get to wear it."
Padmé huffed softly. "It would look ridiculous on you at your current age."
Luke snorted; he hadn't expected such a comeback.
"Did you ever make one for Leia?" he asked, "I know you were convinced you were carrying a boy, so it would be an unpleasant surprise if you ended up giving birth to a girl and you had nothing to give her."
"Anakin was convinced I was carrying a girl," Padmé remembered, "I, of course, debunked his every statement that we would have a girl. Mother intuition, you know? Likewise, Anakin couldn't be persuaded that we'd have a boy. Although I was certain he was wrong, I still started knitting her own onesie. It's in her box, but… I never got to finish it. Life happened before I could finish it, and just her initial is embroidered there."
"I'm sure she'll be happy to see it nonetheless," Luke said. "So, after all, even if you don't remember it, you still got to name Leia and me."
Padmé hummed. "I can't speak for what happened during your birth, but yes, I believe that's right."
Luke ran his thumbs over the embroidery of his name. "Is there any meaning behind our names? Or did you choose it simply because you liked them?"
"Luke means light in Naboo," she answered with a warm smile. "And Leia — means hope."
Luke smiled at that.
"Of course, I had no means of knowing the people you'd grow to be, but," she prompted quietly, "In a way, your names have become your essences in life. You, the young man who restored light to the galaxy. Leia, a beacon of hope for everybody in need."
He flushed but appreciated the juxtaposition.
"You were always destined for great things," Padmé commented softly. "And, from the moment you were conceived, you were my light and hope."
"I'm glad, mother, that we could make you proud."
"Well, it doesn't take too much to make a mother proud," she chuckled gently, running the back of her hand against the corner of her eye. "So long as you were kind and treated others with compassion, I'd be proud, but — I do admit to being prouder than the average mother."
Chuckling, he offered her hand a tender squeeze.
Lastly, Luke Skywalker reached for a velvet box, its texture funny on his fingers. He pulled it out and was momentarily mesmerized by its alluring vivid red, before finally opening it and revealing a silver pendant. Luke carefully took it off the box and brought it close to his eyes — it was a cosmo pendant, with an infinity of white sapphires set in sterling silver; it was simple and elegant.
"I love that necklace," Padmé said honestly, "It belonged to my grandmother, then it was passed down to my mother, and my mother gave it to me the day I was crowned Queen of Naboo. Now, as tradition follows, it belongs to you."
"I — I don't understand," Luke stuttered, still captivated by the gem. "Why aren't you giving this to Leia?"
"Leia has her own set aside for her if she would like to have it," she explained, "Besides, I don't want you to think you're not allowed to have a family heirloom just because you're a boy."
Luke sniffed. "There's nothing wrong with me wearing it?"
"Not at all," she smiled, "Or, you can keep it safe to give to your significant other, or to pass down to your daughter, if you ever have one. The significance matters more than the appearance."
He closed his palm around it and held it safe in his hand. "I will take very good care of it, Mother. Thank you for trusting me with this, with all of these. The only heirloom I ever had was my father's lightsaber, and — well, I lost it, in a duel against Vader. It means more than you can think to have something from my past that will shape both my president and my future."
Padmé lightly caressed his arm. "You're very welcome, Luke. It makes me happy to have the chance to pass these down to you."
Luke smiled and reached out to give her a tight hug.
"Are you sure you want to do this here?"
Luke looked at his mother with hesitant eyes as he sat down on the floor outside on the balcony of her apartment. The Coruscanti sun was starting to descend into the horizon, and the light of the sunset cast a golden shadow over them.
Unlike him, Padmé remained on her feet, anxiously paving from one side to another. Her arms were crossed against her chest, and although her eyes were focused ahead of her, she was looking at nowhere at all.
"Yes," she replied, firm, and said nothing more.
"I just," Luke started, struggling to keep up with her figure moving from side to side, "I don't want to taint this place for you."
Padmé sighed, her pacing steady. "You won't taint it, Luke."
"I don't want him to taint this place for you," Luke corrected himself with a raspy voice. "Don't hide your fears behind semantics."
"I'm not afraid of him."
"Maybe not, but I still sense a great lot of fear coming from you," Luke gently said, pulling his legs closer to him. "You might not be afraid of him, but you're still afraid of what he will bring you, as well as confronting all your unresolved issues with him."
Her hands descended to her hips, trying to insinuate she didn't really care. "Anakin can't ruin this place for me. All my best memories of him happened here, and I need to hold tight to them if I'm going to speak to him again — even if not directly."
She referred to herself being unable to communicate with the ghost of her dead husband, therefore she relied on Luke to mediate between them. She despised the idea of putting him through that, especially when she had so much she wanted to yell at Anakin, because of Vader's misdeeds, but like Leia had pointed out to her, it was time she stopped running away from her past. And the only way to do it was through Luke.
They had, of course, asked Leia if she wanted to be there with them, as she too had too many unfinished issues related to the man that had fathered her. In response, Leia had laughed at their faces, appreciating them for their humor, and walked away without saying anything of substance.
Respecting his mother's reasons, Luke nodded. "Are you sure you're ready for this, mother?"
"No," she confessed humbly, "But I need to do this either way. It's time I face all the pain that Vader has brought. To me, to my children, to the entire galaxy. I will always love Anakin, but I cannot, will not, excuse the things that he did. However… I would still like to hear it from him, to listen to his reasonings and try to understand."
"Alright," Luke conceded, placing his hands above his knees. "Should we start, then?"
Taking a deep breath to ease her nerves, Padmé sat in front of her son — just as she had so many times with her husband while he meditated. Gently, she placed one of her hands over his.
"Are you sure that you're willing to do this, Luke?" she asked from her heart. "These matters — are between Anakin and me. I don't want our encounter to bring further pain than Vader has already caused you. I know you offered to do this for me, but you're not under any obligation here. You don't deserve to carry your parents' conflict as well as your own."
"Yes, I'm sure," Luke assured, offering her his sweetest smile. "Anakin and I — we didn't part on good terms the last time we faced each other, and I would be lying if I denied my fright towards our reunion, but as you said, maybe I would like to understand him too. Maybe that's all I need to accept the past and let it guide me into building a future."
She squeezed his hand. "It doesn't make it any easier, though."
"No," he chuckled sadly, "I guess that's the burden we will always carry as Vader's relatives."
Padmé frowned discreetly.
"Anakin."
"I'm sorry?"
"You're Anakin's son, not Vader," Padmé said, "You carry Anakin's light, not Vader's malevolence."
Luke smiled with closed lips, so unnoticeably that she couldn't tell it was really there.
"This is it, then," Luke changed the subject. "Let's do this."
Anxiously, Padmé nodded.
"How are you going to call for him?"
"Ern, I'm not really sure," he mumbled, "All the times that Master Yoda and Ben came to me, it was because I needed them, not because I had called for them. But when Anakin came to us… Well, apparently both Leia and I were calling for him while we meditated, even without our awareness. So I guess that's what I will do. Meditate and let the Force guide me towards him, hoping that he will listen."
"Alright," she said. "Would you… Would you like me to leave while you meditate? I understand that you're at your most vulnerable when you meditate, that you give yourself into an intimacy only known to you. So if you'd like to be alone for the time being, I'll step aside."
"You're right. There's nothing more intimate than when a Jedi connects themselves to the larger world, to the Force that binds us all together," he said. "But… You're part of my world, too, and your existence is intrinsic to mine. So… if you wouldn't mind… Would you stay by my side while I meditated?"
She smiled warmly, and it was the most honest smile she had to give him.
"It would be an honor, Luke."
Taking a deep breath, Luke Skywalker closed his eyes, and the veil of the Force embraced him.
The sparks were there to welcome him; they always were.
Luke smiled; tried to touch them, but they went away too fast.
Twirling around himself, he tried to recognize where he was. The familiar humming of spaceships buzzed in his ears, and the sound of metal echoed under the sole of his feet. It was dark, and the dark scared him.
He had been there before, he realized. The narrow corridor halls creeping in around him and threatening to swallow him in. He had been there before, and he hadn't felt good about it back them, either. He looked ahead, and the corridor went on forever. A lingering threat that darkness would prevail, and he couldn't escape it. Desperate to find the light again, Luke looked to his side and noticed a dim trail of light escaping from under a closed door.
He approached it; he would like to be where the light was. He could feel the soft resonance of life from the other side, but when he tried to come in, he noticed the door to be locked. He was stuck in the darkness, the light being forbidden to him.
"And now, Your Highness, we will discuss the location of your hidden rebel base."
Luke stumbled back, his heart thundering; no, why would the Force bring him there? He had been there for his sister in the aftermath of Yavin, he had seen the consequences of her treatment on the Death Star beforehand, even if she had tried so desperately to hide it from them. He didn't want to bear testimony to Leia's torture.
"You can do whatever you want with me. I won't talk, you won't make me."
"So be it, Princess."
She screamed, and Luke placed his hands over his ears, desperate to erase her pain from his mind. He thought he was trapped there forever as the sinking realization that he was still in the light, while Leia was treated with brute darkness, struck him and stole his breath away.
When the door hissed open, he saw his sister's lifeless body thrown to the floor, and the urge to go to her spoke louder than the awareness that these events had already happened, and he couldn't alter them. Darth Vader stepped out of the tiny cell, his life signature devoid of any emotion. Luke looked at him, but he couldn't tell whether his presence had been noticed or not.
"Her resistance in the Force is quite strong. Most impressive."
Vader walked away, into the depths of the physical darkness where light abode. Luke let him go, determined to go to his sister, only to have the door shut on his face when he tried to reach her. Taking a deep breath, he looked for Vader once again and saw the shadows of his cape disappearing into the darkness. Luke ran after him, but the more he ran, the more distant he became.
Suddenly, the infinite corridor came to an end. Luke almost tripped as he stumbled into a big, threatening hall. It was poorly illuminated but clear enough for him to notice a big glass window with a perfect view to the other side. Hesitantly, he walked up there and found his best friend in a torture chamber.
Luke placed his hand on the cold glass, trying to reach out for him. Han Solo grunted in agony as stormtroopers worked mercilessly on him. Luke could not save him.
"They're not even questioning him anything…" he muttered aloud, expressing his discomfort to the Force, understanding the Force was trying to teach him something important, but unable to comprehend what.
"There's no information he can offer them."
Luke jumped at the sound of a person next to him. He tilted his head and found his sister there, her expression blank as she stared dead ahead into them hurting the man she loved. She looked vulnerable and small, yet she could not look away. He didn't know how she could do it, when upon finding her being tortured as well, his first instinct was to pull away.
So, he focused on her instead of his friend in pain. "Why are they hurting him, Leia? Why aren't they hurting—"
Because it only made sense that they would try to obtain information from Leia instead; after all, she was one of the key leaders of the rebellion, and she knew every strategic plan that mere pilots and mere Jedis like Han and him didn't know. However, he couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud. She had already been hurt too much.
"They know I won't talk," she said plainly, almost offended that they wouldn't at least try to get something out of her before moving onto Han.
He wanted to place his hand on the small of her back, in a small gesture of comfort; he didn't, since he couldn't tell whether she'd welcome it or not.
"Why are they hurting him?" Luke asked, guilelessly. "There must be a reason—"
"The Empire doesn't need tangible reasons to bring suffering," Leia expired, "They're in a position of power. They hurt because they can."
"It can't be that simple."
"Sometimes, it just is," she lamented, and in her brief silence, a cry of pain echoed from the other side of the glass. Her expression remained blank.
"Leia—"
"They're hurting him because they want you," finally, she said. "They want you, and the only way to lure you into their trap is by hurting those you love."
Luke swallowed uncomfortably; he never wished to harm anyone—
"It's not your fault," Leia said, reading his mind. "The Empire will do whatever it needs to get what it wants. Vader has lived under that mantra for over two decades now, there is no changing that. There will be casualties, too many of them, and because of them that we must thrive to survive."
He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Han won't die, Leia. Not from his."
Leia barely shrugged. "But he could. I could die, Vader just needs to say the word. In the greater scheme of things, our lives don't make any difference. Only yours do."
Luke displayed his lips flatly; he didn't think any lives were separable. "What should I do then, Leia?"
Of course, he already had his answers; he would always go back to his friends, no matter the circumstances or the possible threats to his life. Still, he would like to know what she thought.
And for the first time, Leia looked at him.
"Run away."
Luke gazed at her with sad eyes. "I can't run away, Leia. You and Han are in danger."
"Run away nonetheless."
"You would never walk away, Leia."
Her eyes were locked on the man she loved again. "Only because I have nowhere to run away to," she justified. "If Alderaan still lived, I would run back home in a heartbeat."
"By your logic, if I should go home," Luke said, "My path would just lead me straight back to you. You and Han are my home."
She smiled, but it wasn't an honest one.
"You were always the good one."
Luke looked past her, his eyes lost. It was never about being good; it was about doing the right thing. His goodness had nothing to do with it.
Only when did he notice another door not far away from them. He frowned, he didn't remember it being there before.
"What's that?" he asked nobody at all, walking towards it with closed fists. A certain discomfort in his chest that he couldn't explain as he approached it.
"Don't go there, Luke."
He turned around to face Leia. She was still on her back to him, standing motionlessly before the transparent glass. Behind him, behind the door, somebody wept quietly.
"What's in there?" he asked her, and when she didn't respond, he was determined to save whoever was on the other side.
"Don't go there," Leia spoke softly with the voice that commanded entire rooms. She said it the moment his hand touched the knob, and the annexation of her voice on his ear and the cold feel of the metal on his hand brought back a breathtaking sensation that he had only ever felt when his sister had gone radio silent after she infiltrated Jabba's palace to rescue Han, and he only knew her to be suffering.
With tears in his eyes, he faced Leia once more.
"I have to save her," he cried, "I have to save you."
"That door isn't open for you," Leia said gravely. "Respect it enough to walk past it."
It became so hard to breathe, having to choose between her privacy and saving her from harm.
"But what about you, Leia?"
"I'll live," she said simply, "Like I always do."
He heard the burden that her survival brought her all too well.
He closed his eyes amidst his melancholy.
"I've got to save you, Leia."
"If you love me, in any way, you will walk away."
Luke jumped when her voice came from next to him. When he opened his eyes, he found her standing in front of him, wrapped in a thin blanket, her hair falling to her side in a single thick braid. Her eyes were devoid of life.
"Leia, I can't bear to see you hurt."
"You will have to learn how to, then," she advised him. "What happens on the other side of his door isn't welcome to you. Perhaps it never will be. But if you ever, ever want this door to open for you, you will have to love and respect me enough to take a step back."
He did not step back, but he didn't go forward either.
"I love you, Leia," Luke said, "I will only ever do what's best for you."
"What you think is best for me and what I know is best for are two different things," she declared. "Right now, you have a choice to make, and this choice might dictate how your relationship with your sister will be for the rest of your life."
Luke looked at the door one last night, and even though the silent sound of crying had grown, he closed his eyes and wished with every fiber of his being for it to go away.
It did.
The room was no longer there, and neither was Leia. When he looked back, the chamber where Han was being tortured had also disappeared. He tried to locate his whereabouts, and the darkness that surrounded him was now a familiar one.
The darkness of outer space.
He stood on a thin platform, a gigantic viewport showing the blackness of the galaxy, painted by thousands of dots made from the light of the stars. And there, right in the middle of the scenery, was a planet. One planet only, whose bright colors were in contrast to the darkness that surrounded it. He had never seen the planet before; yet, it reminded him of home, or of what home would represent.
It was a beautiful imagery; he could spend entire days simply consuming the scenery if only there wasn't some macabre mechanical breathing coming from next to him.
Luke was scared to look to his side because he knew who he would find there. So, he looked at the vivid planet instead.
"You have brought this upon yourself," the frightening voice spoke, but Luke didn't know to whom he was speaking. "You could have saved your people had only you given the information we wanted."
"You're a monster," a second voice spoke up, the voice that Luke immediately recognized as his sister's.
"Maybe I am," Vader concurred, "But which is the greater evil, the monster that kills or the monster that allows an entire civilization to die instead of breaking her convictions?"
Luke gasped at how bluntly his father could accuse his sister of crimes that didn't belong to her. For the first time, he realized he was profoundly connected to Leia's subconscious amidst the Force, despite their ethereal bond having lost its strength, and he wondered whether he was living through moments that happened or were simply an augmentation of every burden in his and Leia's mind.
Although — the situation he was currently going through belonged to his sister. It had to; he would never in his sane conscience blame her for Alderaan.
But he knew that she did and that she would never forgive herself for it.
"You will watch. You will not look away," Vader said. "And you will hear them scream, and you will feel their despair in the Force. And you will relive this moment every time you close your eyes."
"You're a monster," Leia said again, however now her voice had started to crack.
"Yes," Vader agreed, "But so are you."
Luke turned to face them, and he found Vader strongly holding her by her shoulder, keeping her posture intact, so strongly that it must have been bruising her — but Luke knew the physical pain didn't even compare to what was about to happen. Leia's face was built from grief and guilt, and he wanted nothing more than to throw his body in front of hers so she wouldn't have to watch.
If only he could rewrite the past. If only he could bring back Alderaan.
He would even content himself to do something as simple as carrying Leia's burden for her — through that was impossible.
Meanwhile, Vader held her so tightly that it started to hurt his own shoulder.
Outside, darkness became an explosion of light, and Luke felt dizzy — millions of voices crying out in horror and were suddenly silenced. He couldn't understand what Ben Kenobi had meant with those words, so crude he was with the Force back then, but now — it was overwhelming.
And Alderaan had never been his home. He couldn't feel in the same depth that his sister did.
"You're not a monster, Leia," he said, Vader having suddenly disappeared and just he and his sister existed for the moment. Looking at each other's faces and taking in all of each other's pains.
"Maybe I am," Leia replied, mimicking Vader's words.
Luke sighed; he knew there was no point in trying to convince her when she had already set her mind strongly about something.
"I wonder why the Force brought me here," he speculated, talking aloud rather than talking to her. "What it wanted me to learn. Because I — I don't feel very well. Not with everything that I was shown."
"They're not supposed to make you feel good," Leia said, and his sister suddenly became a different Leia all together. Looking at her, Luke thought her to be the personification of his subconscious. Because Leia was the wisest person he knew, and he always came to her in his times of need. It only made sense that the Force would guide him through the face of the person he trusted the most.
"I came here looking for Anakin," Luke confessed, "Instead, I only found Vader. I'm well aware of everything that Vader has done, and I will always condone him for them. But I want to meet Anakin, so I can see the light on him."
Leia gave him a face, and Luke shifted uncomfortably.
"Why are you looking at me like this?"
"Because, Luke," Leia started, "Being aware of something and accepting it are on opposite sides of the spectrum."
"I have accepted what Vader has done," Luke protested, "Look at Padmé, at Han, at yourself. You all remind me of what he's done every day."
"No, Luke," she said softly, "You recognize that Vader's evil deeds have happened, but you still struggle to accept them. You struggle with what your father did to everybody else when he saved you in his final moments."
"That was Anakin," Luke corrected shyly, "Not Vader. Anakin came back to the light the moment he saved me."
"He was still the man behind the mask."
Luke lowered his gaze. "Vader has also hurt me, you know."
"I know," Leia said. "Your compassion has always been your greatest strength. Accepting the harms done against you is easy, they happened to you and you only. But knowing of the pain that Vader put your loved ones through while you couldn't help them — that hurts infinitely worse."
Anxiously, he clasped his hands together. "Is that my path, then? To accept my family's pain and guide them towards their own acceptance?"
Leia merely shrugged. "Your path is for you to decide, and you only. Not me, not the Force."
"You and the Force are part of me."
"But we are not you," Leia calmly explained. "You are responsible for your own choices. And if you make the wrong one and mess up, you will still have us for comfort. The same wouldn't happen had we made your choices for you and you came to blame us for your undoings."
"I would never blame you."
Leia smiled condescendingly, and Luke sighed.
"What do I do now?" Luke asked, even if already aware that he was supposed to find the answers by himself. Leia started to fade away in front of him, and he panicked. "Leia, what comes now?"
"Everything that comes next," she said quietly, her ghostly body leaning forward and, with a gentle kiss to his forehead, she sent him home.
Luke came back to his senses disoriented and despaired, and his immediate reaction was to violently twirl his body.
"Is he here? Anakin, where is he?"
Padmé noticed with a scowl the rapid speed of his breathing and sudden drops of sweat surfacing his forehead. Dreading to see him like that, she gently brushed his skin until he attuned himself to his surroundings.
"Luke. You're okay."
He sighed in relief upon the sight of hers, and just her.
"It didn't work, did it," he said softly, "He isn't here."
Padmé smiled sadly, "You're the Force sensitive one."
"Right," Luke remembered, a little embarrassed. He brought his hand to his temple, only then made aware of the sudden sensitivity coming from his head. "I wish Leia was here."
Padmé frowned at the suddenness of his comment. "Did something happen, Luke? Did you see something?"
"No, I…" he stuttered, "I only saw things that have already happened. I think. Regarding Leia and Vader, mostly."
Uncertainly, she nodded. "And you think that you need Leia to meditate with you if you're to see Anakin again?"
"Maybe," he agreed, but although it was a good argument, he wasn't thinking that. Mostly, he just wanted to see her and ask her how did she accept the things that had happened.
Or if she accepted them at all.
"Would you mind if I rested for a while?" Luke shyly asked. "I find myself not feeling very well."
"Of course," Padmé promptly said. "All the bedrooms have been cleaned up. Just pick whichever."
With a bow and a kiss of gratitude, Luke left her all alone on the balcony.
Later on, Padmé did not inform him that, much like his sister some time before, he had also unconsciously chosen the room that had once belonged to her and Anakin.
A/N: aaaaaaaaaaaand i'll let you interpret luke's vision however you like (for the time being hehe)
feedback's appreciated :)
