Chapter XXXII: Everything Has Changed
Anakin Skywalker was astonished, in the worst of ways, to find no better luck with his trusty droids than with his children.
As a child, he had built Threepio with his own hands, innocently searching for a friend amidst his lonely life as a slave. Artoo had been the greatest gift he'd ever gotten. Not only did it come from the person he loved the most, but he became at times of war one of the better and most useful companions.
Now, he could not get them to reveal what they'd seen as they guarded his children.
Threepio said only what Anakin already knew. That the princess had been going from planet to planet looking for the young prince, more often than not ending up in life or death scenarios.
Artoo, on the other hand was more frustrating. He wouldn't say anything at all about his time away with Luke.
The Emperor took a deep breath, calming his rage… In a low voice he tried again—
"Where did you go with my son, Artoo?"
He bleeped, Anakin needed no translation, "Ask your son."
Anakin growled. "Threepio, where did you and Leia find Luke?"
"Oh, an awful planet I do not even want to recall!" moaned the droid.
Anakin was on the verge of looking deranged yet sane. "Do recall it," he said in a menacing voice. "Please…"
"Da—" R2-D2 pushed C3-PO.
"Artoo!" Anakin screamed. "Stop acting like a traitor! Better yet: leave us, fool." The last word he only whispered to himself.
"Yes, do," Threepio said; but upon inspecting the Emperor's face, he realized he did not want to be alone with him.
"Don't betray the princess," R2 beeped as he moved to leave.
Anakin grunted. "What about betraying the Emperor?!"
"What about it?" said a soft voice bursting in.
Anakin turned to see her. "Padmé, not now."
"Oh don't worry about us…" Threepio said. "Artoo is right for once—we'll leave you alone."
"Threepio, don't you move another inch!" Anakin cried. "Not until permitted."
"You are permitted," Padmé said. The droids needn't be told twice.
Alone, husband and wife stared at each other for some moments.
"Do you realize what you've done?" Anakin said in a rage. "I was about to find out where our son had been hiding."
"No you weren't," Padmé disagreed, calmly. "At this point, what does it matter?"
"It matters a great deal! If we know where he left we could know why he left!"
"I don't care," Padmé eyes flashed anger. "You are going to drive him away again if you keep harassing him!"
"So we should just ignore all the damage he caused our family by doing what he did? He consciously hurt every single one of us! Like the brat he is he thought only on himself—"
"Anakin! Do not speak like that! You sound almost as if you hated him…"
"I do not hate my son. I hate what he's done. Hate what he put us through. I am, though, vastly angry at him."
"I can see that, like everybody. But you're just going to have to forget it—or pretend until you actually do."
"When have you known me to forget?"
Padmé's eyes watered; she kept the tears from falling, though. "Never." She agreed through a sad grin.
She left him without another word.
Anakin sank in his chair, feeling lost. He wished to go after her; the last thing he could need was to quarrel with his wife. Yet the fatigue he'd been ignoring for months came to overtake him, and when Padmé found her chamber, she stayed there all alone.
A new day dawned in the Skywalker Castle in Coruscant.
This had once been one of her favorite places, with a routine very much to the Princess's taste.
Coruscant meant freedom, because her mother wasn't there, and her father was too busy there. It meant fun, being the Capital of the galaxy there wasn't a thing you couldn't find here. It meant privilege, somehow more than in Naboo, as here people knew obedience before sense—something Padmé wouldn't allow.
It meant trust, having in Mara the most reliable listener and secret-keeper…
What was left? The Princess wondered.
The first thing she heard waking up was a message from the Queen, requesting her presence in the breakfast room.
Leia trod slowly every step as though somebody was watching her. For most of the day she was spared of the difficult questions she knew her father would demand from her; she would be spared from Padmé's comments that could in a matter of seconds make her cry.
The rehabilitation wasn't over, and Leia spent most of her time in the bacta tank, in the medical room, in her own room; sedated, examined, tested, watched over…
So tiresome.
The process of healing was drawn out with the weight of something she couldn't understand over her shoulders.
She didn't know what it was, this constant pain that prevented her from ever smiling or laughing. It prevented her from seeing the simple joys she had now at her disposal, even the things she had dreamed and longed for so desperately for months…
The night came when her medical droid and her human doctor agreed she could go have dinner with the rest of her family, whom she had been avoiding on the excuse of not being well.
She entered the large dining room, having previously prepared for the occasion with no less than five handmaidens brought from Naboo: her hair hung loose, flowing brown and luscious; a beautiful braid in the middle. Her dress, pearly white silk, covered her arms and her neck, it reached just below her knees, giving her a pretty, regal, royal look.
"Good evening," she greeted, somewhat awkwardly.
At the head of the table sat Anakin, across from him Padmé. By Padmé's right sat Mara Jade, looking miserable. Leia debated where to sit for some moments; before she could make up her mind, Luke walked in. He looked same as Leia always knew him. His permanent place was next to Mara, but tonight he chose to sit next to Anakin. Leia in the end sat next to Mara Jade.
The servants finished setting the table, and for a while, there was no other sound than that: clicking of glass, silver, and iron. No one particularly looked at anyone.
"Which wine would you prefer tonight, Your Grace?" a servant asked Anakin. "If you are to drink tonight—"
"You bet I am drinking. Corellian," Anakin said. "Begin bringing the courses as they're done. Hurry."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Bring me a glass, too," the Princess suddenly said. "You didn't lay a goblet for me."
The servant turned to her, "You never drink, Your Highness. I'll bring it, of course. Do you have a preference, Princess?"
"I'll take a Corellian, like my father." She didn't look at Anakin.
Silence reigned the dining room again. The drinks came. Anakin and Leia poured themselves the Corellian wine. Padmé had a cup of Moenia herbal tea. Luke drank warm milk. Mara only water.
The dishes were being brought, one by one, like the Emperor ordered. Anakin was eating, when a servant came to announce a visitor. Anakin growled, saying he couldn't see anyone right now. The servant said it was Grand Moff Tarkin. Anakin considered it for a little bit, then he said, "Invite him in."
"I thought we couldn't see anyone right now?" Luke quipped. Anakin ignored him.
"Be respectful, all of you," Anakin said, tiredly.
"Yes, Lord Vader," Padmé said in a mocking tone, which caused Anakin to frown.
"Good evening!" Tarkin greeted cheerfully. "Your Majesties," he bowed. "Lady Jade. I can come back at a more appropriate time—"
"You're here already," Vader said. "Sit and eat. We'll talk in my office after dinner."
"As you wish. I particularly like what the Princess is eating," he had sat next to Leia. "Bring me some of that, please." The Emperor waved his hand and snapped his fingers. "And what she's drinking… drinking!" he exclaimed. Leia repressed the urge to cringe. "What, you drink now, Your Highness? I suppose you're old enough. Yes… Your twentieth year day has come and passed now. Such a shame there was no feast in your honor—of both of you, of course." He now looked at Luke. "Nice to have you back, young Prince."
Luke's face was blank and he didn't respond.
"And what is it that you're drinking, Princess?" Tarkin turned to Leia again. Before she could answer, he took her goblet, which was now empty, and smelled the top. "Corellian… Red, I believe. Not a bad choice, Your Highness, though not very according to a Princess."
"It was my father's choice. I simply mirrored it." Leia said.
"Really? Well, I'll trust his judgment, then. A glass of Corellian red wine for me!"
"There isn't any left," a servant quickly said.
"What?" Anakin was surprised. "How could that be possible? The castle has been deserted for months with only Jade here!" he stared at Mara Jade accusingly. "Are you drinking water now to cover you love drinking our alcohol or you're still nursing a hangover?"
Mara looked shaken, yet her voice was together when she said, "I never take anything from you sir. Nothing that isn't giving to me."
"Then what happened?" Anakin demanded.
The servant approached the Emperor, he was very old. When he appeared to have collected his memories, he said, simply: "It might have gone away when Princess Leia and the Corellian locked themselves in the cellar."
Every head looked up from their plates and to the Princess. She held her head high, feeling her cheeks growing crimson at everyone's steady gazes. Yet she felt no other pair of eyes burned her as much as her Father's. The air around them turned cold, though to Leia it seemed boiling hot, smothering.
"Corellian?" It was Tarkin who first found words. He sounded amused. "What Corellian? Are there any still alive?" he laughed.
"He, the servant, must mean the pilot that brought Princess Leia back to the Capital," Mara Jade said, trying to free the Princess from such distress.
"He was a Corellian? Why am I not surprised?"
"Governor Tarkin, you've seen that man?" Padmé asked.
"Yes, I happened to have been here in the castle when Princess Leia arrived. I didn't inform you immediately, Your Grace," he quickly said, feeling the Emperor's eyes already shading yellow. "Because Lady Jade forbidden me from doing it."
"Did she?" the Emperor asked, slowly. And glaring at Mara, he looked fully like a Sith, further from any light, his eyes golden and mad.
"I don't believe she'd hide anything from you, Father," Luke finally broke in, "You must be mistaken, Governor." There was an edge to his voice, a veiled threat.
"I asked her to," Princess Leia finally spoke, and she didn't sound like they expected, like even she expected. She wasn't abashed, or startled. She sounded like her usual strong self.
"Is that so, Leia? Well, she didn't honor your request for very long as she was the one who informed me you were here." He smiled wickedly.
Leia snapped her head to see Mara so quickly she hurt her neck. "You promised me…" her voice almost cracked; unbidden tears at the corner of her eyes.
Mara's eyes and face redden.
There was one more moment of now unbearably awkward silence.
"Well, at least the mystery of who drank the wine is cleared," Tarkin said, nonchalantly. "The Corellian pilot. I remember him well now."
"What was he like?" Padmé asked. "I hate I couldn't repay and thank him for the great kindness he did to us."
"Don't worry—I thanked him for everyone in the family." The Emperor said.
"He was young," Tarkin said. "Quite good looking actually. Dark. Tall and robust. Hazel eyes."
"Green," Leia suddenly cried, so suddenly it was odd.
"What?" Tarkin questioned.
"I said… his eyes were not hazel, they were green." Leia said, sounding as if she had been offended, and the topic were obviously serious and of great importance. "Maybe at first sight, from afar they seem hazel. If there's not much light you can even mistake them to be brown. And depending on his clothes he might trick you into thinking them blue. But up close, they sparkled green. Not like Mara's. Not like emeralds. Not like the grassed fields…" her voice dropped to a soft whisper. "Dark green; but it was a warm color, comforting. Laughing and daring…"
She looked up from her lap and to the crowd around her, almost all of them with their mouths wide open. "Anyway," she cleared her throat. "Not hazel."
Her mother's eyes particularly pained her. She couldn't read what she'd meant.
"Excuse me," Leia said.
She didn't wait for anyone to stop her, she just left the dining room.
When she reached the solitude of her bedroom she felt her beating heart snapping violently beneath her chest. When she stood in front of the looking glass she saw there were tears streaming down her face.
No one can see me. She thought. No one will know.
Why hold everything in? Just to have herself explode in front of anyone?
She needed release.
She threw herself in the bed and wept more intensely than ever before in her life. She even screamed and sobbed; she kicked and grunted. When she was so tired she couldn't even move, she let the heartbreak in her soul, in her bones, in her very core. "Han…" she whispered before falling asleep. She could almost feel he was still with her.
"Padmé, do leave me and Tarkin alone for a moment, please. We have a lot of work to do."
"I care nothing for the work you have to do! We need to talk about Leia. And Luke. And about me and you—"
"I can leave you two alone in the office, of course." Tarkin said. "Although we should note I already waited for you to finish dining…"
"Great, Tarkin. You waited through dinner, you can wait a little more," she said, not caring for his sarcasm.
"I should let you know Grand Admiral Thrawn might arrive, too…"
"Tell him he can meet you and the Emperor, and maybe me, at the Imperial Senate tomorrow." She curtly said.
"Padmé—" Anakin was about to protest but she didn't allow the interruption.
"I want no political affairs in my home anymore. No imperial officer—I don't care the rank—"she gritted her teeth, "can come uninvited. Make that information known, Tarkin, please. Now, leave me alone with my husband."
"Yes, Your Grace." Tarkin bowed, and with an expression of displeasure left Vader's office.
Anakin and Padmé looked at each other for some moments. Actually, they pretty much glared at the other. Not one more fiercely than the other.
"What do you mean by this?" Anakin asked. "Do you wish to make a fool of me? Take away authority? A smarter ruler would have shut you up for the insolence you displayed! Contradicting the Emperor in front of a subordinate—"
"Well, why didn't you?" she screamed.
"There's no shutting you up!" He shouted back. "I knew that before we married. You have the mind of a politician still. You can argue every point, no matter how wrong you are, in a way so convoluted, intricate, and manipulative you can make me agree with what you say!"
"I can use reason and brains instead of intimidation, you say," Padmé didn't lose a beat.
"See? There it is! Get that political look off your face, Padmé. Force, you know I hate it. Don't speak calmly to me about things I know you want to scream. You can convince me of anything when there's a truthful expression on your face. When you're filled with passion—be it anger or love. But when you try to play me like you played the crowd in the Old Republic, you only make me—want to shut you up."
"Again, I say," Padmé looked hurt. "Why don't you? You say you can't… yet you've done it for years…"
Silence.
"You know you won't anymore," she breathed.
"On the contrary, you will put me in the necessity of doing it."
"You won't."
"It will hurt me but I will."
"You can't!" Padmé gasped.
"I will do anything to protect my family—even from you," his fist went around her throat, though they were steps apart. Padmé in her head tried to remember the last time Vader had used the Force against her.
"Anakin! Ah… An—"
"Stop!" a loud female cry rang within the office. Luke's voice thundered inside Anakin's head so that he got distracted and let Padmé go.
She fell to the floor, gasping still, fighting tears.
Leia grabbed her mother and laid her head on her lap. With one hand she checked on Padmé, with the other she covered her mouth, which she couldn't close in all astonishment.
"If you ever dare hurt her again…" Luke said, anger he couldn't hold in his face contorting his features.
"What will you do?" Anakin asked.
Luke turned to see Leia, then his mother, and the Emperor again. He held his tongue.
He helped Leia pull up their mother from the ground.
"The twins and I will leave to Naboo tomorrow," she said, even as she cleaned her tears.
"No one will leave for now," Anakin said in a decisive voice.
"Father—" Leia tried to say something but she had no words.
"You can be a tyrant elsewhere," Luke said. "But not with us. Not anymore, at least. Here you aren't the only one who has the Force!"
He called, from Vader's desk, a lightsaber. He did not keep it in his hands, he gave it to his sister.
"This is yours, Leia," Luke said. "I am sure you've missed it."
"My lightsaber…" she said with a voice full of emotion, igniting the weapon, dazzled by the red blade. "I thought I'd never see it again. How come is here?"
"I found it, Princess," Anakin said, his voice now tender, remembering the pain he felt when he found the weapon instead of the princess.
"Yavin…" Leia muttered. "The rebel base…"
"Yes!" the Emperor cried. "The rebels. We should be working on killing them, instead of fighting each other. Leia, my dear. Luke. We will immediately start back the Sith training."
"Let my mother go to Naboo, then," Leia pleaded.
"She can't be alone—I will not let her out of my sight!"
"But you will let her into your fist—" Luke sharply said.
"Enough!" Padmé cried. "Luke, Leia, go to your rooms now. Anakin, don't you dare following into mine."