His eyes opened to sterile white sheets and a familiar hand on his shoulder, soft and gentle. He stiffened for a moment, blinking through the anesthesia as he reached out through the Force—
"Ani," came his wife's voice, her face coming into focus above him. She still looked hazy as he tried blinking some more, still under the effects of the drugs that were coursing through his veins.
"Wha—?" pain shot up his arm as he groaned.
"Easy," she breathed, placing a hand on his shoulder, just above the gauze. "The Doctor says that everything went fine, but that your arm is going to hurt for a while as your nervous system adjusts to the new electrodes."
"Obi-Wan—?" he asked, looking around the room for his former Master. "Is he?"
"He's in a meeting with the Council," she said, her voice barely above that of a whisper as she withdrew her hand from his shoulder. She swallowed. Once and then twice for good measure before adding; "He wanted to be here when you woke, but…"
"But he needed to update the Council on our situation," said Anakin, the muscle in his jaw tensing as he stared up at the ceiling. His arm tingled, but it didn't hurt. Not yet. He shook his head, still refusing to meet her gaze. "He's going to tell them, isn't he?"
She shook her head. "I don't know…"
Anakin nodded, his features tight and his body rigid. The sheets crumpled between his flesh fingers. "He will."
"You don't know that."
He shuddered as the tingling in his hand began to spread up his arm. It was as if his entire arm had fallen asleep and the blood was finally being given a chance to spread, his nerves reacting as it began to feel like needles were poking him.
"I know Obi-Wan," he said, his eyes hard as he glanced over at her. "He's loyal to the Council."
"He's loyal to you too," she began. "He loves you, Anakin. He always has."
Anakin closed his eyes in pain, both from the needles in his skin and from the emotional toll that this entire situation was taking on him. It hurt. It hurt so much.
"Love has nothing to do with this," he said, resolute in what his former Master was going to do. "He will do his duty."
Padmè didn't say anything else, just stared at him as the needles began to turn into fire pokers that licked at his skin and nerves.
Commander Cody was confident, but Leia could tell that it was an act. She didn't need the Force to feel his fear and uncertainty, hidden away and shrouded behind a sturdy exterior of hardness.
He came by a few hours after she had woken, a tray of sloppy food (if it could even be called that) in his hands. Two Clones had flanked him, their hands resting on their blasters. Although she couldn't see their faces behind the helmets, she could feel their eyes on her, watching her, waiting for her misstep.
"Here," he had said as he set the tray on the ground, using his foot to push it closer to her. "Breakfast."
"What is it?" she asked, peering down at whatever it was that was on the plate. It could barely pass as food in her opinion, but then again she had eaten worst. Han's cooking, in particular, came to mind.
"Food," was Cody's purposefully vague response as Leia clenched her teeth, holding back a sarcastic reply that surely would not have been appreciated. Cody looked confident as he stared at her, his back ramrod straight and his tone steady. It almost hurt looking at him, Leia's mind flashing back to another time; to soldiers that wore armor that looked much the same.
But Cody wasn't a Stormtrooper. None of the Clones were… Yet.
But that didn't stop the shiver that always ran up her spine when she saw them.
It was only a matter of time, she thought as she stared at the tray of food. They were all walking bombs; their timers were already counting down.
And none of them knew it.
She almost felt sorry for them.
"Are you going to eat or just stare at it?" he asked, snapping her out of her reverie. He sounded annoyed; rightly so she supposed. "I can always take it back," he said as Leia felt her stomach twist with hunger. How long had it been since she had last eaten?
"No," she said, voice much softer than she expected. "I'll eat it," she inhaled deeply before adding; "thank you."
He watched as she bent down to awkwardly retrieve the tray, her inhibitor cuffs making it difficult as she carried it back to the cot and set it down. She took a hesitant bite, then another and another, the hunger in her stomach guiding her actions. The food itself was bland and tasteless; much like the rations at the Alliance had been.
Once he was confident that she would finish it, he and the Clones had left with the promise that they would be back to retrieve her soon. That had been three hours ago.
When the doors swished open, she expected to see Cody. But instead of the Clone, it was Obi-Wan who strolled into the room. He was alone this time.
"Leia," greeted Obi-Wan, his hands behind his back as he gave her a polite smile— one she had the feeling was nothing more than a formality (she could see how he garnered his reputation as a Negotiator).
It was difficult for Leia not to be overwhelmed whenever she saw him. She had never known Obi-Wan personally, but she had heard more than her fair share of stories about the man from her father. And of course, she couldn't help but be reminded of the Obi-Wan that she did remember— the one that had brought her brother to her and helped save her life.
A heaviness fell on her at that realization. It was like watching an old dream come to life as she relived his death over and over in her head, Luke's scream ringing dissonantly in her ear as an empty robe fell to the ground.
She closed her eyes as she willed the memory away.
"General Kenobi," she intoned, nodding her head once she had found her composure. She rose to her feet, the floor cold beneath her as he watched her every move, like a hawk. She knew that she put him on edge, even though he didn't show it externally. But Leia knew it was there, nonetheless. She had always been good at reading people. "Or do you prefer Master Kenobi?"
He cleared his throat. "Obi-Wan is fine."
She eyed him for a few moments before shrugging nonchalantly. "Very well then. Obi-Wan it is."
He didn't say anything. Not for a few long moments that felt like an eternity as he stared at her, brow wrinkling in obvious thought.
"What?" she asked, scanning his face and features with a careful eye.
"Correct me if I am wrong, but I get the sense that you and I don't know each other very well," he commented. There was something there. Something that hadn't been there before. It felt like an equal measure of curiosity and confusion and… Fear. Leia didn't know how she was able to sense that through the Force inhibiting cuffs, but she could.
Obi-Wan was afraid.
Because there were a multitude of reasons why they wouldn't know each other, and none of them sat well with him.
She shook her head. "Truth be told, you and I were never formally introduced."
He nodded, accepting her words at face value. "I see."
It wasn't the reaction that she had been expecting, and so against her better judgment, she added; "although I did hear stories about you growing up. My father always spoke fondly of you."
"Did he?" he asked, hesitantly.
She nodded. "He always considered you a close friend and ally," she said before adding; "he would tell me of your heroism during the War. How dedicated to serving the Republic you were."
"Did he tell you anything else?" he asked, gauging her for more information. He retained some measure of hesitancy as well as confusion and skepticism. Maybe he knew, deep down, that Leia wasn't talking about Anakin.
She shook her head. "Not really. He always spoke so highly of you. But my brother—"
"Your brother?" asked Obi-Wan, eyebrows raising in surprise.
"My twin brother," she said before quietly adding; "Luke."
It twinged, saying his name out loud. Like a knife to the chest— an ache that never quite went away. It didn't help that Luke's image still clearly burned into her memory, his sad eyes pervading every inch of her mind as she fought off a tidal wave of self-loathing.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you have a brother," he said softly, sensing from the pained look on her face that there was a story there. A story filled with pain and sadness.
"Had," she said, voice barely above that of a whisper. "I had a brother."
"I take it he's—"
"Dead."
It was with a strange detachment that she noticed Obi-Wan flinch out of the corner of her eye. The cold from the air vent rushed down on her as she felt a shiver run up her spine, the hair on her skin prickling and rising.
Force how she hated saying the word aloud. Luke was dead, but he wasn't at the same time. He was trapped, stuck between the realm of the living and the dead.
He haunted her.
Death isn't the end, she tried to remind herself when the familiar guilt blossomed in her chest. She shook her head, still refusing to meet Obi-Wan's observant gaze. But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, she was painfully reminded of the moment she felt him die. It had hurt— sucked her breath away before she had even realized it was gone.
But Luke wasn't the only person she had lost that day.
She remembered the feeling of Han in her arms, bloodied and crumpled. He had held on as long as he could through pained breaths and slight wheezes before he had finally succumbed to his wounds. She remembered him going still in her arms, watching as his chest stopped moving.
If Luke's death had been the gasoline, Han's had been the match that had ignited the entire galaxy.
"Is he the reason you came?" asked Obi-Wan before adding; "it's clear that you came back here for a reason. What that reason is, I don't know but…"
"But what?" she asked, eyebrows raising as she crossed her arms in front of her defensively.
"But I know pain when I see it," he said, not moving. He watched her keenly, gauging her reaction as he continued. "Your brother… He was murdered wasn't he?"
She said nothing as she tried to school her face into something less telling, but it didn't fool him.
Don't go there. Please don't go there. Please—
"And you feel as though you didn't do enough to stop it," he said as she felt her hand clench at her side. "You feel guilty, and you carry that with you, don't you?"
"You don't know anything about me," she cautioned, stomach twisting and hands clenching. "Or my brother."
"I'm sorry," he said, in what felt more like a reflex than anything. Regretfully he added; "I meant no disrespect. What I meant to say was that I understand your pain. I lost someone very close to me as well."
She waited a moment longer. Wondered who this person was and how deeply their death had affected him, and whether it could even compare to the pain of losing her brother and Han. But almost as soon as the thought appeared, she pushed it as far out of her mind as possible. Loss was loss, and pain was pain. No matter who it was felt by.
"Then you understand," she said finally, giving in to temptation as she wrapped her arms around herself. She hated giving off the appearance of weakness or anything similar, but she needed the warmth that only flesh could provide (even if it was just her own). "What it's like to lose," she clarified before adding; "And what it's like to hate."
Kenobi's face was like stone. Unmoving and unchanging. Even beneath her gaze, she couldn't find any indication as to what was going through his mind.
"You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
"More than I'm proud to admit," he frowned. "But hate— it isn't the Jedi way. It only leads to more suffering, in my experience— it's not worth it in the end," he said before mournfully adding; "the price for hatred is too high."
She scoffed at that. "Easy for you to say. You haven't lost everything. You still have your friends, your temple, your precious religion. I on the other hand have nothing— no one to call my own, and nowhere to call my home. Hate," she inhaled, closing her eyes so that she could revel in the cold that her sorrow brought her, "is all that I have left."
"So much so that you're willing to wipe yourself out of existence to spite the galaxy?" he asked, meeting her gaze frankly as she felt the breath leave her body.
No, no, no—
"You can't play the role of a god, Leia," it sounded like he was chastising her as if she nothing more than a student who needed to learn a lesson the hard way. "You cannot create or destroy life— even your own."
"I wasn't trying to spite the galaxy," she said, although the way it came out, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself instead of him. "I wasn't. I was trying to save it."
"Denying it won't change anything," he said disapprovingly, not buying into her excuses as she bit her tongue, her teeth digging into the soft flesh until she swore she could taste blood. "When my Master died, for the briefest of moments, I wanted to watch the galaxy burn. I'll never forget those few seconds, but I found a way to move on. I found a reason to persist… You haven't."
She knew he was trying to help through blatant honesty, but it hurt.
He doesn't understand, she tried to convince herself. Not really.
There was no way for him to understand. No way for him to know or even understand her reasons. He had no context, no history, no knowledge. Yes, he knew pain, but not to the degree that she had. And yes, he had lost— would lose as much as she had, but not yet. Here and now, he didn't understand.
"What happened to you?" he asked, although Leia could tell that he really didn't want to know the answer to that question. But it needed to be asked, she guessed. And Obi-Wan had never shied away from duty.
"You won't like the answer."
"I figured as much," he acknowledged, brows creasing and eyes drifting. "But you've told me more than you probably meant to, and I am very good at puzzles."
"Is that what I am to you?" she asked, bitterness rising inside of her. "A puzzle?"
"Yes," he found no reason to lie as he ran his fingers through his beard. "But you are more than that, I'm afraid."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think you already know," he said as he smiled at her— not a real one, she noted. It wasn't a friendly smile that one might give to someone they cared about, but rather an icy one that she knew was nothing more than a mask. She had given that same smile to Tarkin on more than one occasion during her younger days in the Imperial Senate. Before the Death Star, before Alderaan…
She watched as he straightened himself out as if readying to leave as he glanced around the room. "You are quite the enigma, Ms. Leia. But you are also the daughter of two people whom I take pride in calling my friends."
"They aren't really my parents," she said, truthfully. There was no malice or hatred in her voice, just the truth— however deep it cut. "They didn't raise me. They didn't protect me, or nurture me, or love me… At least, not in any way that can be remembered."
"Oh I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said before pointing towards the bruise that had blossomed on his face. "Your mother did this to me just so she could get to you. She is very protective of you— not that I can blame her. It's only a parent's nature to protect their child."
Not Vader's, she wanted to say, bitterness and anger bubbling up inside of her as she thought of Luke's death as well as Vader's unwillingness to save his own son.
But Obi-Wan didn't know that. He couldn't understand the irony of what he had just said— how deep his words had cut into an already existing wound. That was the only thing that was keeping her from opening her mouth and giving him a piece of her mind. Coldness seeped into the room and her body, or maybe it was the other way around. She couldn't be sure anymore as she felt her vision blur.
"And what do you know," she ground out, nostrils flaring and knuckles whitening, "of parenting?"
What would a Jedi— who had been taken from his mother's breast before he could even remember— know of what was in a parent's nature or not? A Jedi who had never had children of his own and who certainly would never find himself in that role.
What could he possibly know?
"I am a teacher and a mentor," he said before adding; "and although I know it is not the same, I've seen enough to know that killing Anakin would not erase what has already been done to you— no matter how much you think it will."
"Good for you I'm not trying to," she snapped before murmuring under her breath; "at least not anymore."
"I'm sure Anakin will be delighted to hear that you have no further plans to end his life," he countered before adding; "speaking of Anakin, he's awake now. Although he's not too happy about his arm. He's spent a lot of time working on that thing, you know."
She wasn't sure what he was trying to get at, nor did she care as she felt her eyes darken.
"He should be grateful that his arm was all that he lost," she said, eyes beginning to flicker against her will as he watched her, a grim look crossing his features as her irises danced between the two colors.
"Yes," he agreed, mild again, eyes shadowed and unreadable. "I'm sure he is."
He turned to leave, but he stopped in front of the door, his hand coming to rest gently on the wall as he glanced back at her. "I have no doubt that you came here with good intentions, but Anakin will want to know why you tried to kill him. And if I know my former Padawan, he will not rest until he has the answer."
Persistent. Vader had always been persistent. What he wanted, he got. And no one dared question him.
But could she say the same for Anakin?
"Do yourself a favor and be honest," he warned: "I won't pretend to understand your reasons for being here, but whatever it is, we can help you. But only if you're honest with us."
Before Obi-Wan could take his leave, he gave her one last warning: "I won't pretend to understand your reasons for being here, but nothing you say will excuse the crimes that you have committed. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she choked out, her voice barely above that of a whisper. "I do."
Padmè did not move as she watched Anakin, his head buried deeply in his hands as they waited for Obi-Wan to return. She could tell that he was overwhelmed, his entire posture rigid as his breaths came out shaky. She could tell that he was in pain from his arm, but he made no mention of it. In fact, ever since he had woken up in the infirmary, he hadn't said a word to her.
She didn't blame him.
Beside her, someone cleared their throat as she looked over to see Rex. Somewhere in the silence, he had managed to slip into the room undetected. She had no idea how long he had been standing there, but she guessed it didn't matter.
"We took the liberty of searching her ship," began Rex as he looked between the two of them uneasily. "We uh— we didn't find much. Just a change of clothes and this," he said as he carefully set a pair of dice down on the table, a chain connecting the both of them. "I had a feeling she might want this back."
His voice was strained and quiet, and so very cautious as his gaze settled on Anakin, who hadn't even bothered to look up, his head still buried in his hands.
"Thank you, Rex," said Padmè as she gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as he nodded.
"We contacted the shipyard on Corellia," he said before adding; "they would like their ship back. Should we—?"
"Send it back."
Rex and Padmè glanced over at Anakin, who was staring at Rex, his mouth pressed firmly together, and his eyes shrouded in— in something. Padmè wasn't quite sure what.
"Maybe we should—" she began before he swiftly cut her off, his gloved hand raising to stop her before she could finish.
"It's not her ship. She stole it. Now it must be returned to its rightful owners," he said before turning to address Rex once more. "Tell them they'll have it back by tomorrow."
"Yes sir," said Rex, eyes drifting over to Padmè as if he were waiting for her approval, which was silly. He didn't need her approval, but she offered it nonetheless as she nodded.
"Anakin is right," the words felt slick in her throat. "It should be returned."
She didn't know why she felt so defensive over a ship, but it was pointless. Her husband was right. It wasn't Leia's ship. She had stolen it, she reminded herself gently. If someone had taken her ship, she would want it back. This was no exception.
"I'll send two of my men," said Rex before quietly adding; "I'll be on the bridge if either of you need me."
He turned to take his leave, but he paused at the door, uncertainty lacing his features as he glanced back at the two of them, something in his eyes that a lot like guilt to Padmè.
"I'm sorry," he said before adding; "for shooting her. I was just doing what I thought I had to do, I had no idea that she was—" He shook his head, swallowing. "I had no idea she was your daughter."
Anakin shuddered beside her, the muscles in his jaw tensing and twitching as his gloved hand twisted and clenched. Padmè had no idea what thoughts were running through his head, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know either.
"You couldn't have known," said Padmè, surprised by the strength in her voice considering how weak and tired she felt. "You did what you thought you had to, and you saved Anakin's life. You did the right thing. Don't apologize for that."
Never apologize for that, she wanted to add before she bit her tongue, her teeth digging into the soft flesh.
It had been Rex who had saved Anakin from Leia's blade. And for that, she was beyond grateful.
There were so many other ways that their fight could have ended, and none of them good. She didn't know why Rex felt the need to apologize for anything. None of this had been his fault.
"I know I did," he said, his words surprising her as he shook his head. "If I had to, I would do it again in a heartbeat," he shook his head before adding; "I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry that I had to do it in the first place."
Padmè nodded in understanding as she watched Rex straighten himself out, his eyes lingering on Anakin for a few seconds before he finally took his leave, the doors swishing closed behind him as he left the two of them alone once more.
Without much thought, she found herself reaching out to grasp the pair of dice, her hand wrapping around it as she twirled it mindlessly around her fingers. She didn't know how long she stared down at them before the doors swished open again.
"I thought I would find you two here," said Obi-Wan, his voice much too cheerful for either her or Anakin's taste as they both stared at him. A bad taste filled her mouth at the sight of him, but she swallowed it down as she set the dice down.
"How was your meeting with the Council?" she asked.
"It went well," he said, taking a moment to take his seat across from them, his eyes falling on Anakin.
"Well?" asked Anakin, leaning back in his seat as he stared numbly over at the man whom he had known since he was a child. The same man that he trusted with his life and who had become more like a brother to him than anything. "Should I turn in my lightsaber or wait until we get back to Coruscant to do that?"
"Anakin—"
"Do I even get to say goodbye to my men?" he continued, fist-clenching, voice shaking. "I've fought beside them for almost three years now. I should at least be given that much."
"Anakin—" Obi-Wan tried, but Anakin wasn't about to let him get a word in as he shook his head, hurt and pain lacing his features as he continued; "I can't leave, Obi-Wan. Not with the War still going. I have to see this through. I can't leave my men now."
"And you won't," said Obi-Wan as Anakin paused.
His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"I didn't tell them."
At that, Anakin's entire body jolted back in surprise and shock as Padmè lifted her head, not quite sure if she had heard that right.
Anakin shook his head. "Wait, you didn't tell them?"
"After speaking with Leia, I realized that it might be pertinent to wait until we had all of the facts," he said as Anakin froze momentarily, then slowly straightened up to look at Padmè. He was looking at her with thinly veiled concern. "I can tell that she came back with a purpose. It would've been a disservice to reveal her identity to the Council before being given a chance to explain herself," he said before adding; "not to mention I don't believe it would've been fair to either of you."
"Us?" she asked, her thoughts spinning and whirling at Obi-Wan's words.
She watched as his eyes softened visibly. "I didn't believe it was my place to tell them."
"So what did you tell them?" asked Anakin, his eyes still narrowed in suspicion, and his words measured as he stared at the other Jedi. It hurt to see him so distrustful of his former Master, but she supposed that all of their trust in each other had been shaken.
Obi-Wan's most of all.
"Nothing incriminating," he said before adding; "I told them that you two fought—"
Anakin winced.
"And that you were injured," he said as he gestured toward Anakin's arm. "And that you were receiving medical attention. As for Leia… As far as they are concerned, she escaped."
Padmè released a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding as Anakin blinked. Once then twice.
"You lied to them?" he breathed, disbelief coursing through him. It wasn't often that Obi-Wan lied to anyone, but there were a few occasions in which he had been known to twist the truth. But this… It was an outright lie. Leia hadn't escaped. She was in the brig.
"I'm not proud of it," Obi-Wan admitted. "I take no pleasure in lying, as I'm sure you both know," he said, taking a moment to stare at each of them pointedly before he continued; "but I think considering the circumstances, it might be justified this time."
"And they believed you?" asked Anakin, leaning forward as he stared at Obi-Wan intently. He seemed almost skeptical, but he hid it well behind a wall of curiosity.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "More or less. They had no reason not to."
"So they think Leia escaped," breathed Padmè, leaning back as she wrung her hands thoughtfully as Obi-Wan nodded.
"It should buy us some time," he said before adding; "I'm not sure how much. The Council is adamant that she be caught sooner rather than later. But that's not all that we discussed."
"What?" she asked.
"The Separatists have issued a bounty for Leia," he said slowly as Anakin blinked.
At his words, Padmè felt a shiver run up and down the length of her spine. Neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan seemed to notice the way her entire body slowed and then stilled, a cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach.
"Why would they do something like that?" asked Anakin before thoughtfully adding; "I mean, I know she isn't a Separatist, but it isn't like they're Padmè's biggest fan either. Why would they care unless—" he paused. "Unless Dooku sees her as a threat to his apprenticeship."
"Or he sees her as a possible ally," commented Obi-Wan before adding; "the Bounty expressly states they want her alive."
"It's Sidious," said Padmè before she could stop herself. By the time the words were out of her mouth, she knew it was too late to take them back as she watched the two Jedi's head swivel over to face her, both of them looking at her with a questioning look.
She swallowed. Once then twice for good measure. "It's Sidious. He wants her gone."
Obi-Wan and Anakin glanced at each other uneasily before Anakin addressed her. "Did she tell you that?"
He still wasn't using her name. She had noticed his hesitancy to even mention her name, much less her person. But that was a problem for another time, she supposed.
"Padmè," began Obi-Wan when she didn't answer. "You mentioned that Leia had told you stuff… Did she tell you about Sidious?"
Did she tell you his identity, were the words that she knew he wanted to ask, but he refrained, keeping his words as curt as possible.
But Padmè knew what he really wanted to ask.
She inhaled. "If you want to know if she told me his identity, yes. She did."
Anakin blanched at that, his entire body jerking in surprise as he stared at her with wide blue eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open as he leaned forward, excitedly. She knew what this would mean for them, for the Jedi. It would mean a certain end to the War. They had been chasing this Sith for years at this point, and they were no closer to discovering his identity than before.
This could change the tide of the War. It could end so much.
"Who?" demanded Anakin, his body practically buzzing as he gripped the edge of the table. "Padmè—"
"I can't," she said, trying to retake control of the conversation as she inhaled sharply, hating the betrayed look in Anakin's eyes as she remained strong in her earlier conviction. "It isn't my place. Only Leia can tell you."
Only Leia could share that information.
"Do you believe that she is ready to share that information with us?" asked Obi-Wan, threading his fingers through his beard as Padmè stared at him (anywhere but Anakin— she couldn't stand that look in his eyes. She just couldn't).
"I don't think she has any other choice," said Padmè, remembering the look in her daughter's eyes when she realized that she had failed. "There's too much at stake for her not to."
"Okay," Obi-Wan nodded, using his hands to push himself away from the table as he rose to his feet with newfound purpose. "Let's go talk to her then."
AN: The next chapter should be up soon! XD