notes: Happy Good Friday y'all. I hope you enjoy the chapter on this somber evening.

I made a playlist for We Who Wander This Wasteland. If you wanna listen to it, contact me on tumblr (url weary-hearted-queen) and I'll give you the link.

Again, massive thanks to princess-sansa-of-ithilien and absynthe-minded for all of their hard work on this chapter. It wouldn't be nearly as good with your help.


CHAPTER 8

The next day dawned early for Leia. She woke to the sound of her door opening, and sat up to see Sixth Sister entering her room.

"Time to get up," Sixth Sister said. She put a tray of food down on the foot of Leia's bed, then went to the dresser and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. "Eat and get changed, then meet me out in the hall."

Leia obeyed, rising and dressing quickly. She did not want Sixth Sister to dress her, and Leia suspected she would if pressed to it. Besides, Leia guessed she would be taken back to the practice court, where she could continue her silent and still rebellion.

Hungry, Leia went over and inspected the tray of food. Toast, eggs, and and a bowl of cut strawberries stared back at her. She ate, then folded her pajamas and put them away, brushed and braided her hair, then crossed to the door. She hesitated just beyond the sensor's range.

She hoped that today would be better than yesterday.

It was not.

As Leia had suspected, Sixth Sister brought her to the practice court, then turned to leave. The door closed behind her and Leia sat on the floor, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. The sores on her wrists stung, and Leia fought the urge to rub at them. They had scabbed over during the night and now Leia wanted to pick at them.

"Stop that," her father had told not two months ago, reaching over and grabbing her by the wrist to stop her scratching at her scabs. "Picking at them will only make them scar."

Leia felt a pang of sorrow at the memory. She blinked, and saw blood on flowers. Tears unexpectedly welled in the corners of her eyes, and Leia looked down at the floor and blinked furiously, before reaching up and rubbing them away.

I won't cry, Leia thought. I've done enough crying.

Hearing footsteps Leia looked up. Thirteenth Sister approached, an easy smile on her face.

"Good morning, 851," she said, kneeling down in front of her. "How about we do some warm-up exercises?"

Leia shook her head.

"We'll start teaching you how to fight if you do," she cajoled.

"No," Leia said, though the truth of the matter was that she did want to learn how to fight.

She already knew some basic hand-to-hand, and Rebécca had been training her in the use of a staff ever since she was five. Sabé, who worked as one of her father's personal attendants and guards, had been teaching her how to shoot since she was old enough to hold a blaster.

"She's going to be in a war," Leia could remember overhearing her father tell her mother. She hadn't been supposed to hear that—she was listening through the door, pressing her ear against the cool metal to better hear what was being said on the other side. "Ahsoka said—"

"I don't care what Ahsoka said," her mother had snapped. "She's not old enough to be shooting."

"She's going to be in a war whether we like it or not. You know that."

A beat of silence, then her mother had said, "I don't know that." But she sounded defeated.

More silence, then: "I don't want our daughter to be a warrior, Bail."

"I don't either. But that is what fate has destined her to be. We can't change that."

"We could."

There was a pause, then Leia's father had said quietly—almost too quietly for Leia to hear, "But should we?"

"Come on, 851," Thirteenth Sister said, bringing her out of the memory, voice half-begging. "Just do a few warm-up exercises with us."

Leia shook her head. I can't give up now, she thought, seeing blood and grass and flowers. I have to be strong. For Papá. For Rebécca. For everyone.

"Come on," Thirteenth Sister said, a hardness creeping into the edges of her request. "Just walk around the mats with me?"

Leia shook her head again, then said, "No."

Thirteenth Sister lost her patience. "You can't just sit there all day," she snarled, the hard edge swallowing her voice.

Leia glared at her, hot and furious and certain. "I can. And I will."

Thirteenth Sister balled her hands into fists and abruptly stood. "You will sit there or you will train with us," she snapped.

"Okay," Leia said, and turned her gaze to the floor beneath her. There were new whorls and patterns to memorize.

Lunch came and went, and still Leia sat on the floor with her legs crossed. Flecks of scab littered the floor around her and her wrists bled fitfully, but Leia didn't care. All she cared about was counting the lights in the ceiling high overhead for the third time. The first time she had counted them she'd come up with 36, the second time 35, and she wanted to know which count was right.

A burst of laughter and a cry of, "Go on, then," dragged Leia's attention down from the ceiling. She watched as Cora and Danyil hopped down onto the mat and faced each other, bowing at the waist then sinking into defensive crouches.

Their fight was savage and quick, each strike and block a barely constrained hurricane of power. They danced around each other, darting in and out and in again, landing a blow, a second blow, then leaping away before the other could pin them.

Leia watched in fascination. This was nothing like the Alderaanian style of combat she had learned—that. It was all about fluidity and elegance, one blow leading into the next and then into the next, power hidden beneath grace. This was brutal and sharp, the power snapping like fire between each strike and counterattack.

The fight ended with Danyil punching Cora in the jaw. She fell, stunned, and lay there for a long minute. Leia wondered if she was seriously hurt. But then Danyil stepped forward and, bending down, offered his hand to her. She gripped it, and allowed Danyil to pull her upright.

"Good fight," Danyil said with a grin. "You almost had me."

Cora grinned. "Another ten seconds and I would have."

"Probably true," Danyil said.

He turned, and saw Leia watching them. "851," he called. "If you come here, I can show you some of the moves we just used."

Leia shook her head. "No thank you," she said. It doesn't hurt to be polite, she thought.

Sixth Sister came to collect her after dinner. "Come on," she said gruffly.

Leia stood, leaving her warm spot of floor behind, and followed Sixth Sister out of the practice court and back to her room. She changed and readied for bed, climbing between the sheets once her teeth and hair were brushed.

She fell asleep lulled by the sound of air humming from the vents.

The third day was no better. After breakfast, Leia was brought to the practice court, where she again took a seat. Danyil came over and sat with her for a while, talking with her and trying to get her to agree to train with him. Cora tried as well, as did Ninth Brother. Only Thirteenth Sister did not come over; she remained by the mats, glowering every time her gaze swept over Leia.

After lunch the door opened and three men Leia vaguely recognized came in—she thought they were in the throne room when she was presented to Palpatine. They were smiling and talking, though they drew up short at the sight of Leia sitting on the floor.

"Is this part of her training?" Leia overheard one of them ask his companions.

Murmurs of confusion answered his question. They skirted her, giving her a wide berth, and went to the staircase leading up to the balcony. Leia watched them ascend with confusion of her own. Why were they here? What did they expect to see? Were they here for her? Or for the other four?

Ninth Brother came over to her again. "851," he said, crouching down, "there are people here who want to watch you learn. It would be a shame to let them down, don't you think?"

"I'm not getting up," Leia said defiantly.

Ninth Brother sighed. "We aren't always going to be this kind," he said gently.

Leia frowned. "I'm not getting up," she said again.

"Very well," Ninth Brother said, sounding long-suffering.

He turned and went to the staircase, mounting it with long, slow grace. Leia watched him walk over to the three men and speak quietly to them. They all frowned down at Leia, who turned petulantly away and ignored them. They left after another twenty minutes, grumbling to themselves.

Two more men came in the next day. They stopped beside Leia, unlike the three the day before, and asked her what she was doing.

"Rebelling," she told them, staring up at them with a challenge in the jut of her chin and the sharpness of her eyes.

They left after talking to the Inquisitors, frowning.

The first week ended with the presence of a tall, dark man who came just before Sixth Sister collected her and brought her back to her room. He was a massive carapace of a man, with a helmet that hid his face and a cape that flowed from his shoulders.

Leia had heard of this man, though she had never met him before.

Darth Vader.

Her mother and father had always quickly carried her away whenever he entered a room. "He's a bad man," her father had told her more than once. Her mother had added, "He's dangerous, and we don't want to put you in any danger." Leia had never known what made him so dangerous—and when she had asked, her parents had only given her vague half-answers.

He did not approach Leia or the Inquisitors. He merely stood in the open doorway for a long moment, watching. Then, without a word, he turned and left, cape billowing behind him.

Leia felt cold at his departure, as if she had missed something important. She just didn't know what.

~oOo~

Vader was tired, though he was loathe to admit it even to himself.

He had just returned to Coruscant after a lengthy mission deep in the Mid Rim, to a planet called Lothal. A few malcontents had been spreading rumors and what the Empire classified as "misinformation" via a com channel. It had taken longer than Vader had expected to flush them out.

Before that Vader had been sent as an envoy to the Hutts, negotiating with them for a trade route through their space. Vader detested the Hutts—a fact which he secretly thought Palpatine both knew and abused—and hated working with them. Doing so always made him tired and curt.

To make matters even worse, he had arrived to whispers—whispers that were half-known and partly understood, of a new Force Sensitive under the Emperor's thumb.

It was one of his spies that brought the information to him—a young man named Jak, who served in the palace's Imperial Domestic Corps. Vader, who had always detested slavery, had bought the Jak's contract when he was just a boy and set him free. In return—and for a small monthly sum—Jak remained in the IDC, hiding his status as a freedman, where he cleaned in the IB—the building reserved for the Inquisitors visiting or serving on Coruscant.

The news he brought was disturbing.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, my lord," he said, bowing deeply, "especially since I know you just got back. I just thought it best you hear this right away."

Vader had only a few minutes ago arrived at the room technically reserved as his office. It was large and open, sparsely decorated with only a desk and two chairs facing it. Vader spent little time there, using it only to download his reports to the Imperial database, and to receive important visitors that Palpatine mandated he greet.

"What is this important information you bear?" Vader asked. He was uncustomarily seated behind the desk. Even when receiving guests, Vader much preferred to stand at one of the many windows looking down on a courtyard and up at the Coruscant skyline. He found that sitting detracted from his imposing aura.

"There's a new Force Sensitive in the palace," Jak said. "She's being trained by two Inquisitors and two Imperial officers. Well, they're trying to train her anyway. From what I've heard all she's done is sit."

"What is this Force Sensitive's name?" Vader asked.

"Rumor has it that it's Alderaan's little princess. Leia, I think is her name. I've never seen her, and the only name I've heard being used is the number 851."

Vader stood and turned toward the window behind his desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

He had heard that Organa and his brat had been killed by Alderaanian radicals led by none other than Carlist Rieekan, one of Organa's closest friends since the Clone War. The little princess, it was said, had been hacked almost to pieces and then burned. She had been unrecognizable.

It made too much sense, Vader thought. It would have been easy enough to find some child from the Underbelly about Leia Organa's size and weight, someone no one would miss or mourn if she was butchered and burned. Meanwhile Palpatine would have free reign to do what he liked to Leia.

"You say she has resisted training?" Vader asked, not turning from the window.

"No, my lord," Jak said. "I mean yes, my lord. I mean yes, she has resisted training. Karis, who brings the trays for lunch, says that she only sits a half dozen feet into the room—that that's where she is every day. Tobias, who cleans the practice court they're using, says she's there when he goes in at dinner."

Very interesting, Vader thought, staring out at the glittering tops of the buildings almost touching the sky.

Aloud, he said, "Keep an eye on this girl. Report back to me what you find."

Jak bowed again. "Yes, my lord," he said, and left the office.

Vader stared, unseeing, at the cityscape.

Just who was this girl? She was someone special, clearly, given her assigned tutors. Usually a Force Sensitive was placed under the Inquisitorial training regime, not privately tutored by—not one but two—Inquisitors, as well as two Imperial officers.

That she had been kept at the palace was yet another clue; most Force Sensitives were taken to the Inquisitors' Keep, located in the heart of a caldera on Prakith, a Deep Core world of fire and ice. That Leia—or whoever this child was—had been kept on Coruscant was telling. Palpatine wanted her close at hand, and likely beneath his purview and control.

So just who was this girl-child? What made her special? And what did Palpatine have planned for her?

Vader turned away from the window, deciding that it was time to visit this girl.

He arrived with sunset. The sky was rose and dying gold, the smog turning the air dusty purple and blue. The air was crisp and cold, making the stumps of Vader's legs and arm ache. If he had not been breathing through a mask, he suspected his breath would be clouds in front of him.

Sometimes he was too sentimental, Vader decided as he stepped into the IB, the door sliding shut behind him. He was better now, as much machine as man—or so Palpatine told him.

"You are refined to perfection," Palpatine told him time and again. "You are the best of both humanity and technology."

Vader was not sure he believed that.

He found the practice court without difficulty. It was the one room on the hall with a light on, though that light was only visible in a strip beneath the door. Vader made for it with long, purposeful strides.

The nearer he got, the stronger his heart beat. His stomach—or what remained of his stomach—twisted uncomfortably, turning hard like steel. His mouth, always parched from the flow of sterilized air in the mask, turned dry as bone.

I'm anxious, Vader realized. But why? Surely this child is not important.

The Force, ever at his fingertips, whispered to him in its strange, unreadable, lilting tone. It practically hummed against his flesh, caressing his skin and sinew and bone—though no longer was it steeped within him as it once had been.

Vader had long ago learned how to read the portends of the Force. And it screamed at him now—yelled as loudly as it could in his ear, his heart, his bones: This is important, it said. Take heed.

He reached the door. It slid open before him.

She was sitting half a dozen feet into the room, just as Jak had said. Her back was to him, but at the sound of his entrance she turned her head, looking back over her shoulder. Her dark eyes met his through the eye plates—and a thrill ran through what remained of the flesh on Vader's back.

She has Her eyes, he thought absurdly, before crushing that thought. No, he told himself sternly. I killed Her and our unborn child. She was pregnant when she was buried.

But what if…

Around him, the Force screamed.

But no. No. This girl-child,Leia Organa—for this was Leia Organa, of that Vader had no doubt—851 is not Her child.

Vader turned and left. He was tired, he told himself. He needed time in his regeneration chamber. He was not fleeing from the sight of Leia Organa's eyes.

But he knew he was lying to himself.

~oOo~

That night, Leia dreamed.

She was standing in a small room, the roof domed and made of alabaster adobe, the walls hung with a child's posters of pods and speeders. A miniature model of a TIE fighter stood on the squat dresser shoved into a corner, and a mobile of tiny starfighters hung over the low-slung bed. A window high in the wall let in slanting, early morning sunlight.

A boy was lying in the bed, his sandy hair mussed from sleep, his eyes shut tight. Leia turned and looked down at him, and felt as if an eternity stretched between them.

"I know you," Leia whispered to his slumbering form. "I've dreamed of you."

The boy opened his eyes. They were as blue as infinity.

He looked at her. "I know you," he said softly, sitting up, then standing. His pants were ragged and threadbare, stretching a good inch above his ankles, and his shirt had a hole in the hem. He smiled, and reached a hand out to her, palm up, fingers outstretched. "I've dreamed of you."

Hesitantly, Leia put her hand out, reaching for him. She smiled, and their fingers touched.

~oOo~

The next day at lunch there were only four trays.

Leia frowned, and watched as her four trainers sat down with their trays of food and began eating. After a few bites, Ninth Brother stood and crossed to her, kneeling down in front of where she was sitting.

"You practice with us for, say, an hour," he said, "and you'll get lunch. How does that sound?"

Leia's stomach rumbled. She shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm fine."

Ninth Brother cocked his head to one side, looking at Leia with a puzzled, complicated expression. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "You're hurting yourself by this act of rebellion."

"My Papá was fighting the Emperor. He's gone," her voice hitched at that, the last word bubbling up from her throat as if she didn't even fully understand it, "which means I have to fight him."

"But why?" Ninth Brother asked.

"Because he's a bad man," Leia said.

"He's not a bad man," Ninth Brother said. "He just wants what's best for you."

"Will I hurt people?" Leia asked.

Ninth Brother hesitated. But then he nodded. "You might. But that's the price you pay for serving the glorious Empire."

"Then I don't want to serve the Empire," Leia said. She pursed her lips, then added, "I don't think I ever did."

"That's traitorous talk," Ninth Brother warned.

"I don't care," Leia retorted.

"You should."

"Why?" Leia asked.

"Because you could be hurt for talk like that."

"And what's my other choice?"

"You serve the Empire and the Emperor."

Leia shook her head. "I won't."

"You will," Ninth Brother said. "Or we'll hurt you."

He said it so matter-of-fact that Leia almost missed what he meant. Then the full weight of what he said sunk in.

"How?" she asked, very quietly.

"I don't know yet," Ninth Brother said. "But we will get you to train, one way or another. You will serve the Empire."

Leia swallowed the lump in her throat. Suddenly there was a lot more at stake than there had been before.

Was she willing to face pain for the sake of her father? For the sake of fighting the Emperor?

He was a bad man. And doing what he wanted would mean that she was going to hurt people. She would be his weapon, and that weapon would do terrible things. He had said she would bring to heel the Hutts and the Outer Rim. That didn't sound kind or friendly. No, she was going to be a person of fear and pain and death.

And she didn't want to be that.

But fighting against that would mean that she would be hurt. Was it worth it?

Yes, Leia thought. If it means not hurting people. If it means fighting for Papá, I'll do it.

Leia looked at Ninth Brother and said, calm and flat, "No I won't."

~oOo~

A week later they took away breakfast.

By dinnertime Leia's stomach was growling viciously, and she felt as if her stomach was gnawing on her backbone. Feed me, it cried, and Leia fell voraciously on the steak and mashed potatoes and oolan beans on the plate offered to her.

The next morning, when she was brought into the practice court, she found that her trainers were eating breakfast there. The smell of poached eggs and griddlecakes slathered with syrup was enough to make Leia's mouth water and her stomach rumble.

"Agree to train with us for an hour," Danyil said, coming over to her with a pear in hand, "and we'll order a tray for you."

Leia sat down on the ground, crossed her arms, and shook her head.

"Suit yourself," Danyil said, and returned to the others.

Lunch was much the same. Leia could smell the bacon on their turkey, lettuce, bacon, and cheese sandwiches. Her stomach gave a much louder growl. Leia forced herself to turn away from the sight of them eating; if she kept looking, she was afraid she would cave.

"Just one little exercise," Thirteenth Sister said. "You'll get a ripe meiloorun."

Leia shook her head. "Meilooruns aren't even in season," she said airily.

Thirteenth Sister laughed. "They're always in season somewhere in the galaxy," she said, but when Leia made no response rolled her eyes and stood. "Have it your way, 851."

The next day was even worse. Leia practically drooled at breakfast, and by lunchtime she was ready to cry. Dinner the night before had only been a sandwich. The glass of water, which usually accompanied dinner, was also conspicuously absent, leaving her thirsty. The sandwich had barely taken the sharp edge off of her hunger then—twelve hours later and it felt like Leia hadn't eaten at all.

"All you have to do is stand up and come over to the mats," Cora cajoled. "We'll get you a sandwich."

Leia crossed her arms and shook her head. I won't give in, Papá, she thought. I promise.

The next morning Sixth Sister woke her up earlier than usual.

"Get up, 851," she snapped, coming into Leia's room without preamble.

Leia blinked groggily and sat up in bed. "What?" she asked stupidly, wiping sleep from her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"I said get up," Sixth Sister said again, this time accompanied by a sharp cuff to Leia's left ear. Leia yelped, startled as much as hurt, and only just caught herself from falling over on the bed. She scrambled out of bed and hurried to change clothes and brush and braid her hair. Sixth Sister watched all the while, a hard, cold expression darkening her eyes and lips.

She led the way to the practice court as usual, Leia trailing doggedly behind her. She was still tired and, while the slap had woken her up, felt on the cusp of sleep. The halls were eerily silent, as if shrouded by the darkness of night.

As usual, Leia's trainers were already there. They were eating thick peach slices, the juices dripping down their chins and staining their hands.

"Sit down," Sixth Sister warned, turning and grabbing Leia by the shoulder of her shirt, "and I will beat you 'til you're purple. You are going to train today, and you are going to train all day. If you don't, I will beat you 'til you're black. Do you understand me?"

"I won't," Leia said stoutly. "I promised Papá I'd fight the Emperor. And I won't become his weapon. I won't."

Sixth Sister slapped her. Leia's head snapped to the side, and she tasted iron. Probing her lip with her tongue, Leia found that it had split against one of her teeth.

"You will do as I say," Sixth Sister said. "Or you will be punished."

Slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time, Leia sat.

Sixth Sister reached down and grabbed Leia by the shirt collar. Dragging her to her feet, Sixth Sister made a fist, and punched her in the nose. Leia felt the bone break. Blood gushed down her lip and into her mouth andover her chin.

"You will train," Sixth Sister said.

"I won't," Leia said, and spat out the blood pooling in her mouth. spitting blood as she spoke.

Sixth Sister dropped her in surprise and horror, quickly wiping away the speckles of Leia's blood that dotted her lips and cheeks. "You little bitch," she snarled, and delivered a sharp kick to Leia's stomach.

All the breath rushed from Leia's lungs and for a second all she could do was gasp like a fish on land. When she did finally manage to drag in a breath, she choked on the blood in her mouth. She coughed, retched, and coughed again.

"Get up," Sixth Sister ordered.

"No."

Sixth Sister kicked her again.

"I won't," Leia said, voice hitched with the first taste of a sob.

"Get up, 851."

"My name's Leia."

Sixth Sister reached down and hauled Leia upright. "Your designation is 851, little girl," she said, voice dead and cold like ice. "Say it."

"No," Leia said.

Sixth Sister punched her in the mouth. More blood joined that already staining Leia's lips scarlet.

"Say it."

"No," Leia wailed.

Sixth Sister punched her in the stomach. Leia gagged and vomited. It was mostly bile, and it landed on Sixth Sister's pants and boots.

"Ugh," she yelled, throwing Leia down. Leia hit the floor hard, one hand trapped beneath her. The bone snapped. Leia screamed, turning over onto her back so she could cradle her crooked wrist.

Sixth Sister laughed.

"Say it, 851. What is your designation?"

"Leia," Leia sobbed.

A kick. "Say your designation."

"Leia."

Another kick. Leia sobbed harder, half of the breath stolen from her lungs.

"What is your designation?"

"Leia." It was a gasp as much as a name.

Sixth Sister leaned down, grabbed the front of Leia's shirt, and yanked her to her feet. Leia stumbled, startled, and barely caught herself, left arm held close to her chest.

"Say your designation," Sixth Sister said.

"Leia."

Sixth Sister smiled. It was a cold, cruel smile. "We'll do this until you answer me right," she said, and slapped Leia across the cheek. "Now what's your designation?"

"Leia."

Sixth Sister slapped her other cheek. "What's your designation?"

A pause. Then, softly, "Leia."

This time Sixth Sister punched her in the chest. Leia coughed and gasped, spluttering as blood trickled down her esophagus. "What is your designation?"

"851."

Sixth Sister smiled, triumphant. "Good girl," she said, and reaching down, patted Leia on the cheek. "Now say it again."

Leia gritted her teeth, then said, "851."

"Good," Sixth Sister said again. "Now, go over to your trainers, who've been more than patient while you learned your name, and ask them to train you."

"No," Leia said quietly.

"No?" Sixth Sister said, just as softly. Her voice, however, was the dangerous kind of calm—the kind of calm preceding a violent storm, the kind of calm of the ocean's undertow, the kind of calm before the mountain cat strikes.

"I won't be the Emperor's pawn."

"Big words for such a little thing," Sixth Sister said with a slow smile that cut her face like a scythe. "Is that your final answer?"

"Yes."

"All right then."

The first blow was harder than any blow previous. Leia shrieked in pain as she fell back, broken nose broken again, unable to break her fall. She landed hard on her back, only for Sixth Sister to drag her upright again. A second punch, then a third landed on her face, blacking both her eyes and splitting her lip for a third time.

Sixth Sister shoved Leia to the ground and, with savagery in her smile, kicked Leia in the stomach, in the chest, in the groin. Leia screamed when she could, the sound choked off by blood and her lungs spasming in pain. She curled around her stomach and her broken wrist, trying to protect her body.

"That's not going to protect you, 851," Sixth Sister crooned, and kicked Leia in the face.

The bone in Leia's jaw crunched. She tried to scream, only for agony to rise up and over her, crashing through her mouth and face like a tidal wave. The scream died even as it began.

"How does it feel, 851? Do you enjoy the feeling of denial? Of refusal? Of treachery?"

Leia lay on the ground and cried, silent and desperate, her tears cutting tracks through the blood staining her face. Both of her eyes were mostly swollen shut, the entire lower half of her face smeared scarlet that traced down her neck and stained the top of her shirt.

"Learn this lesson well," Sixth Sister said, "and don't deny the Emperor again."

With that, she kicked Leia in the temple, and Leia knew no more.


end notes: Y'all know the drill by now. If I get good feedback I'll probably post Sunday, otherwise it'll be a week. I look forward to hearing from you!