A/N: warning: UnBetaed angst. Nor do I own any of this. Disney does, and George used to. And I thank them both.
Sorry! Most of this and part of the following chapter was damned-near done a year ago. Then, Carrie died…. I think you can figure out the rest.
Remember- Comments make baby Wookiees smile
Timeline: Star Wars rebellion era. pre-ESB Hoth. This chapter section is a Force vision.
Grasping Perception
Chapter 6
Amidst the stark endless realm of white, a manifestation of whatever dream or unconscious realm that it represented, in a quiet eddy of the Force; Princess Leia Organa sat on her hip, face to face with the diminutive wizened alien standing before her. Swiping at her tear tracks, Leia cocked her head quizzically at the other woman.
"Who are you?" the princess demanded. She ran her hand over her head cautiously, feeling for the familiar coronet of braids. Looking down at her legs and then at each arm she recognized her snowsuit from Hoth. Okay then, that's at least somewhat normal, Leia confirmed. Then calming, she took in their surroundings, "Where am I — are we?" she corrected.
The orange skinned creature's pursed lips spread into a warm thin-lipped smile.
"I am a friend of your friend, he knows me as Maz," her speech ground like the loose gravel of a riverbed; a soothing cadence with an ancient, underlying bedrock of wisdom. Waving her four-digit hand to take in their infinite surroundings, Maz continued, "This is the space between spaces. A place in between heartbeats, hidden in the Force."
"…the Force," Leia mulled it over, before responding brightly, "You're Luke's friend, he talks to? But I thought that was Obi—"
"No!" the being called Maz chuckled, "I am no Jedi. And as much as I would like to; I have not met the young Skywalker…Yet."
Okay, not one of Luke's specters. My own imaginary friend then.
"But—" Leia was confused now. The Princess's brow furrowed. She turned her head aside and muttered, "This is one those kriffin' crazy dreams again."
It is still, in all probability—Skywalker's fault. Leia concluded silently.
"I want out. I want to wake up. Right. Now." Leia fixed on Maz.
"Ho ho!" Maz guffawed and nudged Leia's arm. "I see now that which Han had in his eyes when he was visiting my tavern last." She moved to Leia, bracelets and beads jingling, crouching just a little to focus her goggles on the seated Princess.
Han? —Solo?
Leia flinched, recovered and then met Maz's disconcerting gaze defiantly, "Solo—It figures. The only thing that scoundrel has in his eyes is money." Leia groused.
"It makes for a rich combination of emerald, copper and gold. Don't you think?" Maz shot back.
Leia's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding. The princess felt a heat in her cheeks, as that particular scoundrel's gold-flecked hazel irises sprang to Leia's mind. Damn. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Not only was Solo in her dreams, often in highly inappropriate ways, but now his friends were visiting her unconscious realm? She paced mentally, trying to comprehend the universe's twisted sense of humor.
Decidedly, NOT fair.
"Goddesses! You have got to be kidding me," fumed the Princess, rolling her eyes, hoping for any form of divine intervention.
Maz cackled, "Han might be a veteran Sabacc gambler. But when it comes to certain emotions, that boy has a very hard time concealing anything. Especially when it is so new, present and powerful in his mind. Child, you must know the boy cares so very deeply that it frightens him. As it does you. "
Kriffing Solo's fault, AND Skywalker's I bet. Leia ran a palm across her brow, barely listening, still making a heavenward appeal.
Maz barked with laughter. A warm sound that spoke of a life fully lived. Lived with wisdom, humor, friendship and love. It reminded Leia of the rolling titters of her aunts on Alderaan. Tia, Rouge and Celly; on the south veranda of the palace gossiping lasciviously over gilded cups of tea, oblivious or at least heedless of the five year old princess studying in a corner. Until Leia would come racing around their knees after their pittins when her lessons were done. The tales of their youth that those widows, spinsters and ladies wove over their tea and embroidery, would remain with the young princess for the rest of her life. Half-truth romantic narratives that rekindled a time when those older women were bold, independant – almost reckless. To the knee-high child-princess listening in, it was fascinating and empowering.
Leia blushed.
"Do not worry, child. I only have both your best interests at heart." Maz soothed. Leia's answering smirk was highly skeptical. She was all too familiar with the delusive characters of her dreamscape. In Leia's sleeping mind, it was as often as hopeless for them as it was for her.
The usual subject of Leia's unconscious often included replays or variations on the trauma she had suffered through during her imprisonment and torture by Darth Vader. That shared equal footing in her dreams with the horror of watching the destruction of her homeworld. As a result; she barely slept, dreading the flood of memories. Instead, working to distract, to the point of collapse. If she did finally succumb to exhaustion, infrequent luck would bring her images of her lost home, memories of family, friends, and ever so rarely it could be dreamless; that was the best, because there was no answering emptiness upon waking.
...And again; there were those intense ones with a certain Corellian smuggler. Ones where Leia awoke in a different kind of sweat, one tinged with the heat of arousal. Those didn't count, because...well...
But never had her dreams engaged her in conversation with a friendly stranger, never mind a little orange being. Though there was a that green fellow who'd visit my dreams when I was very young, she recalled. Something about? She didn't know—comparing? the two beings; both wizened beyond human comprehension, both serene, wry, and kind. They felt…Right. Right and good.
And immeasurably powerful. Maybe this occasion would be different.
Maz continued. "You are in mortal danger. There are Dark powers attracted to the conflict within you. Your anger, your pain, your fear, has escaped beyond the limits of your shields. They are like an accretion disk. drawing in more and more mass into itself—accumulating, growing. Every night will be darker, with darker visions and nightmares. You are losing control. You have already begun to lash out at those who would be closest to you—even seeking out their own greatest pain to add to your own." Leia blinked at Maz, incredulous.
"No-one is close to me. Not anymore." Leia replied hoarsely.
Leia retreated, scrambling on her knees. She noted that the surface beneath Maz's feet was resolving into an eroded stone floor in a halo around her, Stained and trod by millennia of traffic, it was as homey and weathered as its owner.
"I am a leader who fights against injustice and tyranny." She jutted her chin up at Maz. "My pain is for my people, for all those the Empire has harmed. I will give my life, for the Rebellion, if I have to."
Maz appeared sad. "Pain? Is that what fuels you? To what purpose? What good can come of that? " The elderly being seemed to speak into the air off to her right. "Listen to this! And you left this one without guidance?"
No reply emitted from the empty space where Maz directed her reproach. Yet the matronly being shook her her head in exasperation. She turned her attention back to the young Princess, studying Leia. After a tense moment, Maz let loose a tired sigh, speaking once again to that section of air. This time with an angry, righteous edge. "You've underestimated her," she growled again.
Maz seemed to listen for a few seconds, then shook her head ruefully.
"Child, " Maz smiled, returning to Leia, "for most of us there is no visible line between light and dark. We are all some mixture of both. It's our actions that define us. The Force is all things, in everything. But, in the end;the choices we make, the actions we take, these shape our lives, our destinies."
Maz looked carefully at that empty spot once more, "There are those who see destiny as unequivocal. Insisting on fates construed from subjectively viewed prophecies." The ancient being stopped to listen to some unspoken reply, then pointed again at Leia. "This child has lost everything. Twice! Finally, she has been gifted with the power of choice as a result. Destiny has failed her. " After a pause, Maz shook her head, smirking sideways at the Princess. "The Living Force is not her guide. She will only follow what she chooses. It will be her companion, her equal! She will be a force of destiny—Hers."
Leia dropped her head, staring at her knees. This was Luke's territory. Wasn't it? "That's...No… I just want to win this war. To stop the Empire. To bring Palpatine, Vader and the rest to justice." Leia's fists balled, her nails digging into her palms. "To avenge Alderaan."
"And then?" Maz prodded kindly, but insistent.
"What, then?'
"When justice, victory and vengeance are in your hands…What then, Princess?"
Oh, that one hurt. Leia became uncomfortable. She had no answer. Did she have dreams? She could no longer remember. There were always fairy-tale fantasies; a lover, or a spouse, maybe children, perhaps a life beyond duty. With her world gone, it was the only fairytale she could afford to imagine. But even that was a guilty pleasure. One that she could ill-afford, when the next battle stood on the horizon.
Besides, it's not like she expected to actually survive to see the end of this war.
"I-, I don't—" Leia pressed her fingers to her cheek, breathing heavily. She didn't dare, didn't want to think of an if, with...with… No. For the last two years, he's been on the verge of taking off. He's always leaving. Always—
Two years, Leia thought ironically, two years and he's always been there. He's always got an excuse, a new reason to stay for one more day. Leia snorted. An uncomfortable question entered her mind.
Why does he stay?
"Child," Maz smiled sadly. Leia heard, but ignored her; lost in her thoughts—daring to dream.
Is it me?
Placing a ring laden hand on Leia's trembling fist. "I want you to promise me, and—" Maz raised her index finger at Leia, giving her an affectionate squeeze, "promise yourself that you will find the answer to that question."
Leia sawed at her bottom lip. How could she justify thinking about a future beyond? How? Everything was distinguished by duty in the young princess's existence. Dreams!? Leia's earliest memories were about pomp, ceremony, protocol, duty. Growing up amidst the spires of her family's palace, she had had access to anything she could ever want, except choice. Everything was arranged and selected for her. All her life, Leia was carefully molded and sculpted, to perform the duties imposed by a noble status, to serve Alderaan, to serve the people.
And all that…The world, its culture, its people…Everything, is gone. Just gone.
Duty to her people. It was a beautiful, honorable destiny—a birthright.
Gone forever. What future is there for me now?
Leia dug her finger into her palms, the red line of pain marking a path through the fog of loss. At the end of her duty, she saw fire, battle and, and—not glory? Vengeance, there was that. The sear of loss transferred to scald another, to vanquish them and scar them irreparably. If the Alliance could free itself from this torpor on Hoth, and truly break the chains of the Empire's tyranny, if they could retake Coruscant, Chandrilla, and the other core worlds; Leia would ensure the Empire were properly repaid a debt…Preferably in blood.
She could do it. She could. No-one would fault her for it. She was a princess with an entire army at her behest. What wonders could she accomplish if the stolid freedom fighters of the Rebellion could be harnessed into a…a…
"I see your eyes child, you perceive an old, easy, heavily-trod path." Maz broke into Leia's thoughts. "One that is always open to the Dark Side. And like the one you are already on—it is a lonely one."
She's right, about what I've—no, might become.
Leia hardened, she couldn't mourn what she never claimed to have. What her heart wanted though—
Hazel eyes, powerful arms in a warm embrace, laughter, attraction, a wry confidant; all Han. And sky-blue eyed Luke; optimism, innocence, sunshine, another friendship - so close— like a sibling. Solid reputable friends; like Shara, Evaan and Carlist. Hope; like Shara and Kes's little boy Poe — an angelic curly-haired sprite, born in the throes of war. A family; maybe even one for Leia herself someday.
"No," Leia choked, the denial and lies tumbling out. "I had a duty. Have a duty." Leia hugged herself, rising to hide her expression from her dream's guest. A pang of loneliness shuddered through Leia. "I can't afford to be distracted, or worse; make myself vulnerable."
She glared at Maz, " I want out of here. Wake me up"
The little alien pulled at the air behind her and a polished wood and leather chair appeared, diminutively sized. She settled in, elbows on the armrests. The stone floor continued to emerge from the whiteness. Distantly, Leia could hear rough laughter, and the clanking of—kitchen wares?
Maz twitched, as if a small child was annoying her with inane prattle. "Pfsh!" She scoffed. "What do your soldiers fight for? The bodies of friends and family, rotting in the ground? The embers of a torched home? A planet turned to dust and vapor?" Maz slapped her hand on a stained wooden table that appeared beside her. Another manifestation of her domicile, Leia assumed.
"Of course!" snapped the Princess. "All those things and more!"
"And why do they fight for those?" Maz's irises were huge behind her goggles, challenging. "Why do they risk all for that?. That which was lost? Or might be lost? The loss does not sustain them."
The reasons were at the tip of Leia's tongue. Things easily spilled, easily followed. Vengeance. Anger. Pain. Leia bit her tongue, recognizing the slip, she could practically hear family friend Fess Ilee's stern warning.
"These lead to the Dark Side."
A rumble ran through the terrain beneath their feet. The blank expanse of the distant horizon began to darken off to Leia's left. A roiling cloud, gray at the edges, poured forth. Acknowledging the disturbance with a tilt of her head, Maz rolled a glass tumbler of amber liquid between her fingers, watching the play of emotions across the princess's countenance. Adjusting the lenses on her goggles, Maz's grinding alto spoke once more.
"What is a home, a friend, a family to you? What do they represent? What do they make us feel? What is it that makes us better beings with these things?"
Leia's throat tightened, comprehension pricking at her eyes.
Love?
"Therein Child, lies your future," finished Maz.
Leia jumped to her feet, "You're right. The rebellion wasn't about revenge, it's about fighting for a better future. My father devoted his life to just that purpose. A better future." Leia's tone shuddered, or maybe the ground did. She couldn't be sure." What future did Papa have?" She became bitter, "What future did I get? What do I have to look forward to?!" She crossed her arms staring off into the distance. The distant gloom slid forward, storming at it's heart. If she looked hard enough, there was a Darkness coalescing into a figure from her nightmares. Vader.
"Those things are gone." Maz agreed sadly. She gave Leia a grim, understanding smile. "But the future? Yes, yes, always. Whether it's for your next meal, next day, or next year. But the love that is conjured by the friends, the family, the home. Past, present or future. Yes. Child, you know this. That is what you fight for. That is what you must find again. Within and without."
Leia became hoarse. " I can never have that." She knew what Maz alluded to, but did not have the courage to voice it aloud.
Maz was shocked, "Why? Did Bail Organa raise his daughter to not expect hap-"
"Don't talk of my father! You don't even know me. I don't even know what I'm doing here!" Leia shook off Maz's grip. Fists balled at her sides, Leia stalked to and fro beside Maz and her table. Maz pushed her chair away and stood on its cushioned seat, becoming eye-level with the fuming Princess.
"This is not just anger, much of this is fear." Maz concluded.
"I fear nothing." Leia sniffed defiantly.
"You fear losing those you love." Maz pointed at Leia's chest.
"Love!? I have no one left to lose, much less love!" Leia cried incredulously, slapping away the accusing finger.
The stone floor cracked as Leia vented her frustration. As Leia fumed, the fault continued on, fading into the pale enshrouded distance of the representative realm Leia was in. Whatever remained of Maz's reflected environment was rapidly reverting into a shifting granular whiteness. Wisps of what might be either sand or snow swirled around their feet. Leia stumbled, turning around to survey her surroundings. A deep shiver of dread ran through her body at the distant sound of mechanical respiration.
"He's here," Leia gasped. Instinctively she looked for a weapon, a shelter, or an exit; any means of defense or escape. She was trapped in the Force vision. In the middle of a numbing white expanse—helpless.
All she could find was that roiling mass of grey in the whiteness, darkening and congealing at it's center. Stepping backward, her heel caught on a solid object, sending her to tumble to her rear—legs arched over it. Leia cleared away the white dusting on top, and the tousled blonde head of Luke appeared, clad in snow gear—pale, cold, and neatly lifeless. The young would-be Jedi's face was terribly ravaged and frostbitten. His blue tinged lips were flecked with strips of chapped skin and blood. Luke seemed to waver indistinctly; almost solid, almost real, but neither. The intended effect though, was devastating.
"Luke!" Leia cried. She called out for Maz. "I–, We can't lose him. He's the last of the Jedi. The last hope."
"There is another," Maz stood adjacent to Leia, partially shrouded by the swirling whiteness. " These are only whispers of possibilities. But do you think you could survive losing him?"
"Of course! But—" Leia took a deep breath, "But it would feel like losing a part of myself. I don't know why. I feel connected to him. But not in that way. I'm scared to think if I did, if I let him get closer—" Leia shook her head vehemently, " No...no, NO. It just feels wrong. I care for Luke, yes. But...It's not like—"
"Like?" Maz drifted away and the whiteness settled into another snow covered form between the two women.
Leia recognized it immediately and lunged at it. She hauled at the white cotton fabric of the shoulder seam, turning him onto his back. Clearing the wet tendrils of hair away from his face, Leia cradled Han's head in her lap. He looked stricken, exhausted, and barely coherent. The lapel of his shirt fell open and Leia saw the recognizable marks of Imperial torture across the breadth of the Corellian's broad chest. Like Luke's limp form; Han's was wavering in and out of the drifting mist—indistinct. Solid, then fading.
"Stop this!" Leia shouted. "Get out! I don't want this! Take your blasted Force vision elsewhere. Visit Luke! He's the one you want."
The nightmare shape of Vader coalesced into being, a few meters from Leia and the broken dream forms of Luke and Han. The cyborg Sith-lord strode through Luke's crumpled shape—dissipating it. He stopped a couple of strides before Leia. The slow tide of his fury rolled off of him.
"Give me Skywalker," the monstrous rumble of the Dark Lord demanded.
Leia's eyes and body rose to glare into those soulless obsidian lenses. Vader could not break her in real life. There was no way some dream spectre would. She stood straight and defiant, the phantom vision of Han limp at her feet.
Vader then cocked his head at her, as if listening or studying her.
"Where is he? The rebel, Skywalker." Vader was now directly before Leia, the armoured legs brushing against her chest. "He is not with you. Is he?"
Leia said nothing. Vader's mask was implacable. He made as if to turn away, but instead stooped and scooped up the figure of Solo by the scruff of his neck and collar. Leia's heart jumped into her throat despite knowing that this was not real.
Not real. Not. Real.
"This one, then. His connection to Skywalker is strong too. Very strong because—" Vader concentrated. Then his voice became soft, curious even, "He loves you both. And you," he jabbed at Leia, "you resonate strongly with both of them."
"Catch one, the others will follow." Vader concluded, and seemed to grin triumphant beneath that nightmare black mask. "Princess, you have exposed a weakness. It will make things easy."
"You can't take them," objected Leia angrily. "You. Can't. Have. Them." she snarled now. A fury began to build in her gut. She hissed and spat at Vader, cursing and damning him for threatening those she cared for. For taking all that she had been. And what she could have been. For all that he was, and had done, the monster.
Vader shifted his stance, holding the vaporous form of Solo up like a laboratory specimen. The Dark Lord studied the Corellian, then began to crush him slowly, strangling him - like trap-caught vermin.
Han!? "Not him. No!"
"He is a weakness." Vader declared. "You are compromised—softened by these… bonds." Vader tossed aside the phantom's body and loomed over Leia. "Give me Skywalker and I will spare you and your friend from the fate awaiting the rest of your Rebel scum." Vader paused, then added in an almost eerily placating tone. "You have power. I sensed it before when you resisted me. Join us! If his Majesty, the Emperor doesn't make you a concubine, Princess; perhaps you will be allowed to keep your little toy pirate for a time—before you will have to put down your pet. Your criminal companion can be sedated, lobotomized, or forcefully dominated to be your plaything. Just give me the boy—Skywalker."
Disgust and horror churned in Leia's throat, "Kriff you, Vader."
The Dark Lord's mask's lenses were centimeters from her. Leia viewed the red-tinged, distorted reflection of herself in them. "Then, I will kill him. Kill them all. You can watch. And I will have Skywalker."
A dense ball of rage formed in Leia's stomach. Clenching her fists, she growled at her nemesis, punctuating the single word she uttered with vociferous outrage. "Never!" Leia threw her hands forward and the form of Vader stumbled back. He made as if to grab for her, until a pulse of invisible power surged out from Leia, throwing him further. The Sith-Lord became granular, his familiar shape dissolving away into the white. For the briefest second, Leia glimpse the scorched remains of a humanoid torso — hairless, scarred, and terribly maimed. Then he was gone.
Stunned, Leia stared at the retreating dark mist. Leaving her blinking; back in the pale, empty dreamscape.
The surface beneath her feet rumbled. Her footing became uncertain.
"You are so much like your Father, child. So, so much. " Maz resumed dryly from beside her—as if nothing had happened; reappearing and noting the expanding crevasse. She began to rise to beyond Leia's eyeline. Or rather, Leia was dropping. The Princess pinwheeled her arms for balance. The ground groaned beneath them. An icy vapor steamed from the crevice between the two women.
Snow, then, becoming real—tactile. The ground slickened with snowswept ice.
"Kriff!" the swear flew from Leia's lips, unbidden. She flailed, unsteady. Her previous ire was rapidly replaced by panic.
Maz threw her head back, chortling at the curse, and reached down to Leia. "We must return now. You know how to find me. Come, the Light will be with us."
Leia scrambled as the wall of ice rumbled above her. Maz's four-fingered withered hand beckoned. Apparently, Leia was leaving this dream realm whether she liked it or not.
"Grab hold. Take it! Find the path to that which you have lost. And your future is waiting for you there too."
The Princess chewed her bottom lip. Part of her knew what Maz meant. The other portion, didn't want to, didn't dare to dream, didn't want to lose—
"Become whole." Maz invited kindly.
Leia blinked and slapped her hand into Maz's welcoming grasp.
A/N: Two points if you know where "the space between spaces" quote is from.
