Finally found the time to write again! I hope you can enjoy what's next :)
Chapter XVII: Rebel Base
Anakin and Padmé sat in the same room, they shared their space, but though only a few meters could separate them, they seemed to be very far from each other. They never spoke to each other; they never even glanced at the other.
Inside the Executer—the Emperor's personal ship—, deep inside Vader's personal quarters, Padmé was wrapped around her husband's black sheets; looking weary, feeling drained, awaiting something worse than death.
For a time she didn't know to be a day, a week, or a month, she had seen true horror. Atrocities with no end. She had suffered a growing pain that seemed to cling to her, deeper and with more and more strength. She had been—felt alone.
If she would've felt Anakin was with her that would've most certainly eased her pain, but long awful day after the other she only saw Darth Vader.
If only he was honest with her… he could allow her to see the man that still lived behind the Emperor and Sith Lord.
But his face was of harshness, strength and woe. He couldn't allow any softer feeling; any sadness and hurt that might slip through could absolutely break him. Make him crumble, which would only doom his already endangered family.
Anakin sat on a wide chair, his back on his wife and his eyes staring at nothing.
Over and over again he passed his flesh hand through his wavy hair, telling—ordering his body to not tremble, forcing his eyes to remain dry. Incapable of pushing away his thoughts—
Luke… Leia… Luke… Leia… Luke! Leia!
Where could his children be?
Though he tries, he can't remember the last time he saw his son. He rubs his forehead, so harshly he leaves his skin looking red. What worries him he most about Luke—while at the same time eases him somewhat—is the knowledge of the reason for Luke's absence. No one took him. He left because he wanted to. Even if his son is hiding from him, he's most likely safe.
Leia on the other hand…
Oh! To simply think of her name makes him suddenly feel air is missing. He feels it in his chest, deep inside his dark heart, such pain he only experienced during his worst nightmares.
Or maybe like when his mother passed away…. But no. He has to control his emotions. Because his daughter isn't lost. Not yet. Not ever!
But then why can't he feel her? Where in all the Galaxy could her strong and bold presence be?
Vader's ship had no course. It was going on every random direction, looking hopelessly for the hidden rebel base.
Each route it took made no difference to Anakin, he could tell he wasn't doing any progress; he was far from reaching his kidnapped daughter.
Kidnapped! Taken? How was that possible?
He went over it a million times and he could never make any sense of it. Leia was too powerful to fall in the hands of some random criminal; she was far too guarded to be captured by the rebel forces.
So where in all the Worlds could she be?
Anakin couldn't think of it anymore, going over every possibility again would make his brain explode.
He groaned, sighed, and weakly walked towards the bed, which provoked no reaction in his wife. She remained on her side of the bed, seated, frozen, broken.
The sight of Padmé was another thing that could break him, so he preferred, strangely, to not look at her. He just lay by her side, with a hand movement turn off the lights, closed his eyes, and prayed sleep would come to him void of dreams.
For a few hours, he was so lucky.
His sleeping mind and body were at ease. If only he could rest like that forever…
But, oh! More vivid and real than ever, he saw her death again.
Was that the Skywalker Castle in Naboo?
In her luxurious bedroom, the Emperor's wife was beginning to wake up. She felt the bed started trembling; the whole place shook as the thousands of rebels raided the castle.
"Death to the Queen!"
"Death to the Queen!"
"Death to the Queen!"
The words roared so in synch, like the chanting of a livid stadium crowd.
She can't run. She can't hide. She doesn't even try to… They're in her room. They drag her from the bed, still she shows no resistance. Almost as if she were ready to die such a violent death. She closes her sad eyes, a unique sweetness and melancholy reflecting there, and she murmurs, incredibly low and lovingly, a hint of passion and forgiveness barely escaping: "Anakin."
The time has come.
Oh, Padmé.
"Padmé! No, no, no!"
"Anakin?"
"Padmé!" A despair she didn't know was even possible made her jump and react.
Padmé shook her husband, trying to get him to wake up, but he just continued screaming her name in his slumber.
She ran to get a glass of water, his screams cooling her skin and making her shake at every step. She stood before him, doubting to do it, fearing the Sith that could destroy her, but watching him suffer so much scared her a lot more than death. She threw the water in his face, which finally made him wake up.
He groaned, jumping and looking at every direction. Padmé shrink in fear but did not leave him.
She felt her thumping heart stop as his metal hand grabbed her, but when his flesh one collaborated to wrap her in a hug, she let out a long breath of relief.
"Padmé!" Anakin cried amidst his tears, grabbing her so tightly he made her scream in pain. "I'm sorry," he begged but couldn't let go of her. "I'm so sorry!"
"I'm fine," she assured him and made him look at her directly in the eyes. "You had a nightmare," she didn't ask but stated.
He breathed in and out, and nodded along.
"Tell me," Padmé put her flesh hand on his bared shoulder, setting her understanding eyes on his troubled glance.
"I can't," he breathed.
"Please—" he suddenly kissed her lips, so abruptly she almost pushed him away. There was such anxiety coming from him, Padmé forgot about her own fear and pain completely, worrying and focusing only on him. "Please, darling!" she muttered amidst the kissing. "I'm tired of this! I want you to trust me again! I want to help you!"
He couldn't stop kissing and touching her, he still felt he was on the brink of losing her forever.
"I don't want to frighten you," he managed to say. "You've your own pain and worries… to also trouble you with mine."
"Was it about Luke and Leia?" she asked, obviously terrified.
He shook his head and she could tell he was honest.
"Please don't make me talk about it," he begged. "I couldn't stand it!"
She pitied him and said nothing. She allowed him to heal, letting herself be loved intensely, even finding relief and strange joy in his desperate touch.
Princess Leia almost blushed, embarrassed, after her soring stomach let everyone know she was lying when she said she wasn't hungry.
In her cell in the hidden rebel base, a small table, almost lavish for the place, had been set in front of her; it came almost immediate to her arrival.
While the other prisoners had to settle for some left over rebel supplies, for the young princess there was actual food. Set perfectly before her in actual plates and glasses.
"Are you sure you aren't going to eat that?" Han asked, looking at her amazed and unsettled. "Starving to death isn't going to free us, princess," he was sitting next to her, and almost awkwardly, he made an attempt at being closer. He succeeded.
"Forget it!" she snapped. "I can very well manage with the food they've been giving you."
"You say that because you haven't tried it yet," he grinned.
She rolled her eyes at him and then approached the other prisoner, Chewbacca was still in chains, for him and Han there was no table, but they had at least fed them.
Before she could even take a small taste she pushed the food away, thinking nothing had ever smelled worse, shocked that they could call that disgusting junk food.
"Told you," Han couldn't help his smirk. "Just eat your banquet, Highness."
"No!" she was stubborn. "I don't want to owe them anything!"
"Alright," he gave up. "Do you mind if we try it?" he asked, shamelessly.
They had now been an entire week in the rebel base, and day after day, a great meal was brought before the princess, which she always rejected scornfully. Though it looked delicious and the smell was hard to resist, she wouldn't have a bite of it. She could tell, those were all Alderaanian delicacies, so of course, they came from her god-father. Bail Organa. The damn traitor! Of course she couldn't taste it, though it was becoming harder and harder as the days passed by, and her hungry stomach had just proved that.
"No," she said, almost angry. "They might think I ate it!"
"So what? Why would you care what they think of you?"
"I don't! But—but…"
"Yes?"
"Fine," she gave up. "Eat it."
Before she could finish her sentence Han had already grabbed a plate, but to Leia's surprise, he didn't eat anything. He took it to his best friend, who growled loudly, probably thanking him.
"No problem, Chewie," Han smiled and then finally ate.
Leia looked at them almost guilty.
They were suffering for no good reason. They hadn't any reason to be there… and she was forcing them.
Just because she wanted to learn as much of the rebellion as possible, to bring the information to her father, didn't mean her company had to stand be depraved from freedom and food.
She looked down and sighed.
"You alright, princess?" Han asked, putting away a piece of fruit he had been enjoying.
"I'm just sorry," she said quietly.
Han's eyes went wide. "What? Why?"
"You and Chewie thought you would have an easy job… take two passengers to the Capital. Get paid and get on with your lives. And you've been chased, captured and starved."
"Starved?" he interrupted. "Don't you see all the food in our hands?" he smiled at her but she remained just as serious.
"You should be free…"
"Yeah, that I do miss," he admitted. "But I'm sure you have a plan. We can wait."
"Can you?" she asked.
"Sure."
The Wookiee then yelled, clearly he wasn't so okay with it…
"Shut up, Chewie!" Han slapped his arm softly. "We've talked about this." He lowered his tone so that only his friend could hear him. "We can't abandon her!"
Leia heard him perfectly and had to repress a smile.
Since their first kiss, they hadn't talked about it and the occasion had no chance of being repeated it.
Even though they weren't alone, Leia's badly hidden smile made Han Solo think the time to make a move again had come.
He approached her, she started to shake, nervous and anxious to see what he was about to do. He sat by her side and took her soft hand; a wider small let him know he could go on. "So what's your plan?" he asked, softly.
Her heart raced.
She cleared her throat. "I don't think it'll be much longer, rebels keep leaving and when there's fewer I think—"
"I meant—" he interrupted. "For us."
Her rosy face became red. "I—I don't know…" she muttered.
"I do," he got closer, his face a hair away from hers.
Both closed their eyes, his hand caressed her cheek…
"Your Majesty," C-3PO said which caused Leia to turn her face and distance herself from Solo. "I think it's time."
"Oh," she said, standing up," Thank you. You're right."
She had programmed the droid to indicate her at what time the rebel who brought her food usually entered her cell, and to warn her a minute earlier.
"You know," Solo said with a hard grin. "I'm so glad they allowed you here, Threepio," his sarcasm made Leia laugh.
"Thank you, sir," the droid said, unaware of the meaning behind Solo's words.
Leia put on her haughtiest face, sitting regally, awaiting the usual rebel.
When she entered, Leia ignored her like every time.
The woman, who while she lacked gracefulness didn't lack beauty, acted the same way, almost irreverent towards the princess.
She picked up the things and put them on a tray. "I see your hunger strike is finally over," she said, without glancing at the princess.
Leia turned red in indignation. "I didn't have even a bite of it! Don't you dare say otherwise to senator Organa…"
She stopped talking as she noticed the lack of care from the rebel's face.
"It was us," Han said standing next to the Wookiee. "Sorry, couldn't resist. You can tell Bail Organa, the handsome man ate all of it. And his Wookiee friend."
The rebel looked at him, dislike plain on her glance. She didn't say anything; just continued to take the plates, glasses, bottles, and little food that was left.
"I doubt senator Organa will come again," the rebel said to everyone's surprise, since every other time she had entered she barely said a few words.
Leia watched her carefully. "Pity," the princess said. "I would've liked for him to be here when I kill all of you."
The rebel finally turned her ocean blue eyes towards the Sith apprentice. "Is that a threat, Leia?" she narrowed her eyes. "You really don't have to. I've known for years now that when my time comes, it will most certainly come at the hands of some imperial."
The princess was quiet for a moment. Almost shocked. "I know perfectly well where I am," she said, anger rising within her. "But like every other rebel scum, you should know you must address me with respect."
"What do you mean, Leia?"
"Ah, I think," Han intervened, awkwardly. "You're being too casual with her."
The rebel smirked. "You're talking about her title?"
"Yes," Han said. "She really doesn't like it when people ignore it. Boy, do I know it!"
The rebel almost smiled at him. "Are you a Corellian, by any chance?"
"Is it that obvious?" Han laughed cockishly.
"Yes," she finally smiled. "It's good to see one of you people intact."
Han looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I'm just glad to see a Corellian unchanged by… what happened. The fact that you can still smile and make jokes means you weren't there when it happened. You are a lucky man…"
"Solo," he finished for her.
"Right," she accepted. "Captain Solo."
"Just call me Han."
Leia watched the exchange of words she wasn't a part of with extreme displeasure. Her anger fuming at listening to them talk as if she wasn't there.
"You are a lucky man Han Solo," the rebel grinned strangely.
"I agree. But why would you think that?"
"You don't know what happened in Corellia…"
"No. Care to tell me?"
"I'd hate to do it. I was there and I have been trying hard to erase the memory from my head."
Han's face looked darkened. Odd. Not like him at all. "What happened?" he finally asked.
The rebel again set her fiery eyes on the princess, this time with more scorn and hate than ever.
She sighed before speaking. "A siege," she muttered quietly and weakly, clearly reluctant to say more. Before Han could inquire any more, she fled the room.
For the remaining of the day, and even at night, Han didn't speak to the princess.
Anakin stood on the deck of his personal ship, looking hard and calm, even though he clearly wasn't. He then stared at the blackness of space, reminiscing about days long gone.
How different does outer space appears to him now. Nothing like during his time in the Order, when he would find comfort and guidance as he flew. Such a great pilot he was—still is, even when he almost never gets the chance of flying himself. He has to do that again, he tells himself. When this is all over, he promised himself, he would dedicate a trip dedicated only to flying with no course; he'll do it simply for the pleasure and sense of freedom he would gain. Maybe pod racing…
"Your Majesty," he heard and was quickly startled. Almost ashamed at his simple thoughts. He would've killed that imperial officer and gladly, but the information the officer conveyed instantly gave him the Emperor's full attention. It was regarding the hidden rebel base. Anakin could hardly believe it. They found it!
Leia stared at the floor, her thoughts eating her mind and her curiosity causing her to act out of character. She turned pleading eyes towards Han Solo, only to discover he was not giving her any attention.
"Han!" she suddenly cried, causing the sleeping Wookiee to get up, the droid to jump, and the smuggler to finally look at her.
Before any words could pass between the two humans, the loud noise from outside the cell made them all turn. The droid with fear, the Wookiee with confusion, the two humans with wonderment.
The sound of blasters—that sound so familiar to the golden protocol droid—made C-3PO run to his mistress's side. "Don't worry, Threepio," Leia said, grimly. Almost too excited. "I have a good feeling about this!"