notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I've gotten way behind in answering them, but I'll try to do so this weekend - or start doing so anyway. Huge thanks to tumblr users absynthe-minded and wingletblackbird for their fantastic beta jobs.
TW: torture, child sexual abuse, rape, pedophilia
CHAPTER 6
Two meals later—meals that Leia was unable to eat, the pain stilling her appetite and rendering her motionless—the door to Leia's cell opened and two guards came in. One was tall and thin and startlingly handsome with short black hair that spiked at the tips and shockingly pale blue eyes; the second was unremarkable but for his crooked nose and his long, blond hair which was gathered into a bun at the nape of his neck.
Wordlessly they crossed to the cot on which Leia lay and grabbed her by the arms. Startled, Leia yelled in pain and dropped her spare shirt which fell to the floor and was kicked beneath the cot. Leia reached for it, desperate and yearning—only to be dragged, sobbing and whimpering, through the cell door and out into the hall.
"I can't believe we drew babysitter duty," Crooked Nose complained in the lift. Leia sat on her knees between the two guards, the pain rendering her unable to stand and leaving her crying and weak.
"I don't know," Pale Eyes said. He turned and knelt before Leia, reaching out and cupping her face with a hand. "I think it could be worse."
Leia's eyes met his, and an unpleasant jolt ran through her from sternum to toes. He was smiling, his teeth white and straight, but his beautiful eyes were cold and calculating turning her stomach to ice. He seemed to see something more than Leia could guess at—saw something in her that transcended what Leia knew of herself. It made Leia uncomfortable, and she shifted in spite of the pain, trying to pull her head away from his hand.
He patted her cheek, and rose to stand once more by her side. "There are worse lots we could have drawn," he said, speaking over Leia's head to Crooked Nose.
Crooked Nose humphed, and glancing up at him Leia saw him shrug. "I guess," he said.
The lift chimed and the door slid open. Leaning down, Crooked Nose and Pale Eyes seized Leia beneath the arms and dragged her out and down the hall, her knees dragging against the floor. Leia kicked at the ground in a futile attempt to stand—but her body betrayed her every time she thought she was about to gain her feet, sending her falling back against the guards' grips with a whimper and gasp of pain.
Halfway down the hall, they turned in at an open doorway. Lifting her head, Leia saw a large room lined with twin rows of beds, drifting blue curtains hanging between each of them for privacy. A table stood to the left of each bed on which sat a lamp and a pad. Charts hung on the ends of the beds, while on the right sides rose metal railings from which hung pairs of cuffs. Doors sat closed and dark on either end of the room.
"Hey, Doc," Crooked Nose called, dropping Leia's left arm, "we brought 851 for ya."
The door on the left side of the room slid open and the short, paunchy-lipped man from Leia's first day there appeared. He glanced at Leia, and at Crooked Nose and Pale Eyes, and motioned for them to follow him.
"Well bring her here," he said impatiently when they did not immediately move to obey.
Crooked Nose picked up Leia's left arm again, and together he and Pale Eyes dragged Leia after Doc. The door on the right side of the room opened at Doc's approach, and Pale Eyes and Crooked Nose followed him through it and into the room on the other side.
A large bacta tank sat at the center of the small room, empty and waiting dim light like the maw of a rancor. Doc was already at the table shoved into the back right corner, picking up and preparing the breathing mask, when the guards dragged Leia through.
"Here," Doc said, as they drew near, and slid the breath mask over Leia's nose and mouth. A gust of cold, sterile oxygen washed across the lower half of Leia's face, and she dragged in an automatic breath.
The door to the bacta tank slid open, and Pale Eyes and Crooked Nose shoved her through. Leia stumbled and fell to her knees, the pain robbing her legs of their strength. She landed with a soft splash, the bottom of the tank already filling with eerily glowing blue bacta.
It rose around her knees, her thighs, her waist. Then it swallowed her, submerging her in thick gel. Leia instinctively held her breath as the bacta covered her face—only to gasp for air a moment later when lights began to burst behind her closed eyes. The cool, sterile air of the mask met her, and Leia forced herself to draw in one, two, three long, even breaths. It would do her no good to pass out from hyperventilating.
She opened her eyes. The view through the bacta and the glass of the tank was warped and shifting, but Leia could just make out Pale Eyes standing on the other side, arms crossed over his chest, head canted to one side. Leia wondered what he was looking it—and tried not to think that he was looking at her.
Leia blinked, long and slow, unexpected exhaustion sinking claws into her flesh and bones. She was suddenly so very tired—so tired she couldn't keep her eyelids open. That bacta had sedative properties was the last thing Leia thought of before she slid under the heavy, warm blanket of sleep.
~oOo~
When Leia woke, it was to soft sheets and a softer bed. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the cobwebs of sleep, and found herself staring at a white ceiling. For a long moment she simply allowed her mind to drift, letting herself ebb back into wakefulness—letting her thoughts catch up to her body.
For a long second she hovered between reality and dream, mind tangled in the memory of sleep and body rushing to wake up. In that liminal space she was nothing and everything, herself and more than herself—was someone else, someone bright and kind and beloved. She knew him, just as she knew herself, and knew that she had been searching for him…
Leia blinked, and her sense of self and the sense of other she had felt was gone. She was only Leia once more—a Leia that was awake, and mysteriously pain-free.
Then she remembered: the bacta. They must have healed her.
Leia shifted, feeling the sheets slide against her skin. She remembered she was still naked; she'd been unable to put her shirt back on in the wake of the burns on her back, and so had left herself bare. She blushed now, and hunkered deeper down into the sheets, wanting to hide her nakedness from everyone, including herself.
There came footsteps, and Leia glanced to her right. Pale Eyes walked through the door to the infirmary, a prima fruit in his hands, his expression casual and uninhibited. He looked over at Leia as he entered, and cocked his eyebrows when he saw she was awake.
"How do you feel, 851?" he asked, coming over to her bed. She was only a few beds from the door, and as he came to a halt beside her, she noticed for the first time that a chair had been pulled to her bedside.
"I'm okay," Leia said warily as Pale Eyes sat.
"Good," he said, and took a bite of the prima fruit. "You look better."
Leia nodded. She hesitated, then asked in a small voice, "How long was I…"
"How long were you in bacta?" Pale Eyes asked. Leia nodded. "Seven hours. It had to heal not only your back but also your atrophied muscles. Here," he said then, and extended the prima fruit to her. "Have a bite."
Leia took it carefully, barely daring to believe his kindness. It had been more than a year since she had had fresh fruit. She took a tentative bite—and then, when Pale Eyes laughed and said, "A real bite," she tore a chunk from the soft flesh. Juice ran down her chin, and Leia felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes.
"Thank you," she said, sniffing and handing the prima fruit back. She wiped her mouth, and her tears, and settled back against the pillows beneath her.
Pale Eyes finished the fruit in silence, then stood. "Well, come on," he said, motioning for Leia to follow him. "Let's go."
Leia climbed slowly out of bed, aware of Pale Eyes's gaze on her as she slid out from between the sheets. She felt uncomfortable, and yearned to dive back beneath them—to cover and hide herself, from the world and from him—but then she remembered his kindness with the prima fruit, and told herself sternly, He's okay. He just wants to make certain you're coming.
"I'm trusting you not to do anything stupid," Pale Eyes said as he led the way out of the infirmary. "Don't make me regret trusting you enough not to be holding you at baton-point. Got it?"
"Okay," Leia said, quiet and meek. For him, she decided, she would obey and be good.
Pale Eyes glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "Good girl."
They rode up the lift in silence, and then Pale Eyes led the way back to Leia's cell. He opened the door and motioned her inside—then followed her in. Leia looked behind her, surprised, wondering what he wanted.
"Come here, 851," Pale Eyes said, and motioned her over.
Leia grabbed her shirt from her bed and pulled it over her head, then turned and crossed on hesitant feet to Pale Eyes. She halted in front of him, and he knelt so that he was on her level. Reaching out, he gripped her head and held her still. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Leia's, forcing hers open with his tongue.
Leia yelped and tried to jerk away, but Pale Eyes held her firmly against him. She thrashed, bringing a hand up to push at his chest. He was as firm and solid as a mountain, and just as moveable.
His tongue slid around hers, probing deeper and deeper. Leia choked, and reached for his face. Her nails bit into his chin—and Pale Eyes jerked away, bringing a hand up to press against the three scratches bleeding fitfully.
He slapped her. Leia fell in a sprawl, the duracrete of her cell's floor biting into her palms and knees and drawing blood. She gagged and crawled away, putting as much distance between herself and Pale Eyes as she could, curling up in the back corner of the tiny room.
"I'm nice to you," Pale Eyes said, rising, still clutching his chin. "I give you fruit, and I trust you not to run, and I give you the gift of my attention, and this is how you repay me?"
Leia hugged her knees to her chest and tried not to cry. She remembered seeing her mother and father kissing, and knew what it was—knew, at least, that it was meant to be something shared between two people in love. She didn't love Pale Eyes. She hardly knew him.
Pale Eyes sneered, his handsome face turning ugly. He took a threatening step toward her—only to stop, his eyes filming over as if he was looking very far away. He pressed a finger to a spot behind his right ear and said calmly, with only the faintest note of surprise, "Beck's involved? Yes. I'll be right there."
He looked back at Leia. "This isn't over, 851," he said, the sneer returning to his voice. "They need me in the main ward—but I'll be back. And you'll be sorry you didn't take my gift."
With that Pale Eyes whirled on his heel and stalked out of her cell, the door clicking shut behind him.
Leia buried her face in her knees and let out a sob. Suddenly all the fear and disgust and confusion at what just happened rushed up and overwhelmed her, drowning her in a rushing tide of emotion.
For half a second—for a breath, a heartbeat, a blink of time—Leia thought she heard Luke's voice calling to her through the wave. It was soft and sweet, bright like Luke and full of the brilliant blue sky of his desert. "Leia," she thought she heard, her name a prelude on his tongue.
Whatever was meant to come after was silenced, however, cut off before it could come to fruition—leaving Leia very much alone once more.
~oOo~
Big Burly came for her again the next day.
Leia, lying on her cot and snuggling her spare shirt, looked up at the sound of the lock releasing. When she saw him in the doorway, she sat up, wary and uncertain.
"Come with me," Big Burly ordered, taking a step back so that Leia could exit her cell.
"No," Leia said, scooting into the back corner of her cot, drawing her knees back up to her chest.
"Come on," Big Burly growled.
"No," Leia said again.
Big Burly snarled and came into the room. When he reached for her, Leia kicked at him, the heel of her bare foot smacking into the palm of his hand and knocking it away. Big Burly cursed and drew his baton.
"Last warning," he said, voice low with danger.
Leia kicked at him again.
Big Burly struck hard and fast, first to her shoulder, then to her head. Leia yelled in pain as she was knocked into the wall—and yelled again, a high-pitched, frantic whine, when Big Burly activated the baton in her stomach. Grabbing her by the hand, Big Burly dragged Leia from her cot and out of the room.
Leia fought him the whole way to the lift, digging her heels into the ground and wrenching at Big Burly's hold around her right wrist. "Let me go!" she shrieked at the lift, and changed tactics, lunging toward the guard and kicking at his shins. Big Burly cursed again and held her away from him, leaving Leia kicking at thin air.
Vrosha was waiting for them in the wide room, arms crossed over her chest, a humorless smile playing at her lips. She pointed silently to the chain hanging from the ceiling, and Big Burly dragged Leia over to them, still kicking and screaming.
Big Burly fastened Leia's wrists into the shackles, the cold durasteel clicking around her skin. Then he nodded to Vrosha and stepped quickly back, avoiding Leia's flying heel. Vrosha uncrossed her arms, strode over to the wall behind Leia, and pressed a button. The chain began to rise, wheeled into the ceiling, lifting Leia's arms above her head, then her feet above the ground.
In a moment she hung from her wrists, shoulders burning and toes scraping at the duracrete floor.
"Get that shirt off her," Vrosha ordered, and Leia felt as much as heard Big Burly stalk toward her from beyond her line of sight. Then she felt his hand at the nape of her neck, gripping the cloth of her shirt. He yanked—and the cloth ripped from collar to hem. He yanked again, this time at her right sleeve, then again at her left, and the tatters of her shirt slid from her body to pool at her feet.
Leia bit back tears. She was once more naked and afraid, at the mercy of the woman who had tortured her not three days ago.
"That will be all, Melbar," Vrosha said.
Big Burly left the room.
"Now then, 851," Vrosha said, coming around to stand in front of Leia. "What shall we do today?" She smiled—and Leia knew that her question was nothing more than a farce. She had already decided what she was going to do.
Vrosha disappeared around Leia's side, and after a moment Leia heard the hiss of a compartment opening. She craned her neck over her shoulder just in time to watch Vrosha shake out the long coils of a whip—and then pain exploded through Leia's back, driving the breath from her lungs in a grunt.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't think of anything but the pain and the slick wetness of blood running down her back.
A gasp. Leia dragged in a breath, whimpered, and drew in a second. A sob, dry and tearless.
Crack.
She swung from her wrists, body driven forward by the whip's momentum. Slowly she turned, the chain spinning, until she could see Vrosha standing half a dozen feet away, smiling. There was no humor in her eyes—no desire, no joy.
Crack.
Why? Leia wondered. Why is she doing this?
Crack.
Leia screamed.
Crack.
And Leia knew no more.
~oOo~
Consciousness came like mist at dawn, drifting and ethereal and inconsistent. One second Leia would almost be awake—light and sight filtering in through her half-closed lashes—and then the next she saw only darkness, comforting and welcoming.
When she did finally awaken fully, clawing her way through the mist to consciousness, it was to find herself still hanging from her wrists, slick blood carving tracks down the backs of her legs, dripping from her toes to puddle on the floor beneath her. She swung slowly in a lazy circle, turning, turning, turning from one end of the room to the other, then back again.
Vrosha sat on a stool by one of the counters a dozen paces away, typing methodically on a portable computer. She glanced up every so often, taking note of Leia, then turning back to her keyboard and screen. Leia wondered idly, in a distant part of her brain unaffected by the pain, what it was she was typing.
Leia heard movement at the door. When she finally spun around towards it, however, it was not Big Burly standing there, but Pale Eyes. He looked apologetic, and as Leia swung past she heard him say to Vrosha, "I'm Jerrid Delios. Melbar is busy. I offered to come collect her."
Vrosha shrugged her narrow shoulders. "I don't really care who collects her," she said. "Just that she's gone."
Pale Eyes crossed to the wall behind Leia. Very suddenly she dropped, the chain going slack. She fell to the floor in an awkward sprawl, crying out in pain as her back was jostled.
"Stand up," Pale Eyes ordered, coming over to and halting above Leia.
Leia remained on the ground.
"Get up."
Leia curled into a ball.
Pale Eyes bent down by Leia's side, leaning close. "If you get up," he murmured to her, so quietly Vrosha couldn't hear, "I'll smuggle you a whole prima fruit just for you."
Leia's heart leapt. A whole prima fruit! Her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled in spite of the pain. A whole prima fruit just for her!
But he had kissed her. He had threatened her. He had seemed kind, but he had scared her and made her uncomfortable.
Was a prima fruit worth it?
"Stand up and get a prima fruit," Pale Eyes said, "or I'll drag you."
Leia stood.
It hurt, and for a second she wavered on her feet, her body crying out in pain. But then Pale Eyes grabbed her by the elbow, steadying her. "Easy there," he said softly, and then guided her forward, out the door and down the hall.
They stepped into the lift, Pale Eyes still supporting her. Moving was easier now that she had started, but Leia was still unsteady on her feet, the pain making her dizzy. Pale Eyes led her to the back of the lift, transferring her from his arm to the wall.
"There," he said as the lift doors closed. "Better?"
Leia nodded.
The lift began to rise. Pale Eyes smiled and turned, pressing Leia against the wall.
"Just you and me," he said, hands creeping between them to ghost against her chest.
Leia reached up to shove him, but he caught her wrists with a hand. Pushing them up above her head and trapping them against the wall, he pressed closer still, his free hand drifting down between her legs.
"Don't you like this?" he crooned, stroking her.
Leia thrashed, tugging futilely against his grip. "Stop," she begged, twisting beneath him, trying to rid herself of his touch.
"Don't worry," Pale Eyes said. "I won't fuck you. Not yet. I want you whole and healthy before I do that."
Leia began to cry.
"Hush now," Pale Eyes said. "Or I won't give you your prima fruit."
"I don't want it," Leia said. "Please, stop."
For a second—a blink, a whisper, a heartbeat—Leia considered using the Force. She could kill him. She had done it before. It would be easy enough to snap his neck, or throw him into the wall, or shatter his spine.
Before she had even processed it, Leia reached for the Force.
It wasn't there. It was—she could feel it burning in her—but there was a wall between her and it, and not the durasteel bands she had used to control it. This wall was sticky and springy, bulging when she flung an arrow of thought at it but staying strong. It blanketed the Force within her—including the shining cord that bound her to Luke. Her rain continued to fall, but it spattered and ran off of the wall, dripping into nothingness.
The lift chimed. Pale Eyes smiled, and pulled away.
"Come on now, 851," he said, grabbing her elbow and dragging her away from the wall. "Let's get you back to your cell."
Leia stumbled after him, thoughts clouded in a fog of fear and horror and disgust. She barely noticed him opening her cell door, or leading her inside. She only realized where she was when the cell door clicked shut.
What had just happened was wrong. She knew it in the ugly pit of her stomach, in her thudding heart, in her aching bones. Everything felt warped and misshapen, the world colored with hues of purple and deep blue and black. He had done something forbidden, something unspeakable.
Leia crawled beneath her cot, taking her spare shirt with her, ignoring the pain and blood of the lash wounds on her back. She curled up there, holding the soft cloth of the shirt against her chest as if that could protect her from the memory of what had just happened, fighting to keep her tears at bay.
She felt violated and alone. So very, very alone.
"Luke," she called for the first time in days. "Luke, please… I need you."
The embers that had grown in her mind pulsed, and for a second Leia thought that Luke had heard her—that Luke was coming to her, to offer warm words of comfort and strength. But then the light of the embers dimmed, and Luke's voice never came.
Leia wept then—wept for Luke, for herself: for the beating she had suffered at Vrosha's hands, and for what had just happened between her and Pale Eyes, though she had no words to describe it. She wept, and hid beneath her cot, not even coming out when Pale Eyes appeared, prima fruit in hand.
"You were a good girl today," he said, placing the prima fruit on the floor in front of Leia's cot. "Even if you did try to fight me."
Then, straightening, he turned and left, leaving Leia alone with the fruit of his crime.
~oOo~
They left Leia alone for two days, her only contact with the world beyond her cell the metal droid arm that pushed the tray of food through the slot at the bottom of the door. Leia spent the time laying on or beneath her cot, cuddling the spare shirt. She slept fitfully and in small bursts, waking after only a few hour's rest sweating and hyperventilating.
She dreamed of the room in the basement, and of Vrosha smiling. She dreamed of Pale Eyes touching her. She dreamed of the Emperor and the throne room, black and scarlet and filled with shadows.
On the second day, however, Tattoo reappeared. "Come on," he said gruffly, "let's get you fixed up."
Leia spent six hours in the bacta tank. When she woke some time later, she did so feeling more refreshed than she had in days. For a long moment she simply basked in that feeling, eyes closed and breath resting easy in her lungs, for once free of fear and sweat and pain.
"I know you're awake."
Leia's blood ran cold.
She opened her eyes turned to see Pale Eyes sitting in the chair beside her. He smiled when he saw her gaze, his blue eyes glittering. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Fine," Leia said, suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness beneath the thin hospital sheet.
"Good," Pale Eyes said. He rose. "Come on now," he said, and patted his leg as if calling for a dog. "Let's go."
"No," Leia said, scrunching down in the bed. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Pale Eyes laughed. "Yes," he said simply, "you are."
In the end he was forced to drag her out of the bed by her ankles. Leia screamed in anger, and reached for his hands with nails extended. She scratched and clawed, and Pale Eyes cursed and threw her to the floor, delivering a sharp kick to her ribs. Leia gasped and curled into a ball, protecting her face and chest.
"Come on," Pale Eyes snarled, all of the charm and kindness gone from his voice. His hands were bleeding as he grabbed Leia by both her wrists, dragging her upright.
Leia slumped back, dead weight, glaring up at him from her place on the floor.
"Fine," Pale Eyes said, all sharp vowels and angry consonants. Gripping her by the wrists, his own hands still bleeding, he dragged her from the infirmary and down the hall to the lift, Leia kicking and fighting the whole way.
When they reached her cell a quarter of an hour later, Pale Eyes threw her in with a mighty heave. Leia landed and rolled, coming up on her hands and knees, glaring at him standing in the doorway.
"You hate me," Pale Eyes said, eyebrows rising in realization. "Don't you?"
"Don't touch me," Leia snarled in reply.
Pale Eyes smiled. "Oh, I'll do more than touch you," he said, and walked into the cell, closing the door behind him.
Leia scrambled to her feet, heart pounding in her ears, lungs in her throat. Danger! her mind shrieked, and she trembled from the rush of adrenaline pouring through her. Get out, get out, get out!
But there was nowhere for her to run. She looked from side to side, measuring the distance between Pale Eyes and the walls, between herself and the door, though there was no escape through there.
Pale Eye's smile widened. "Where are you going to go?" he asked as he stalked toward her, seeing her glances. "There's nowhere for you to go. Nowhere for you to run."
Leia made a dash for the door. Pale Eyes saw her movement and lunged, grabbing her by the elbow. He lashed out with a foot, catching her around the knees and sending her crashing to the ground. She landed with a grunt of air escaping her chest, then made to scramble back to her feet.
But Pale Eyes was too quick. He appeared above her, shoving a foot onto her chest and pushing her flat on the ground. "Oh no you don't," he said, hands reaching for the buckle of his belt. "I have you right where I want you."
Leia panicked. No, she thought, everything in her shrieking in terror. No, no, no.
Pale Eyes knelt, grabbing for Leia's hands as she reached for his eyes to claw them out. Securing them in one hand, he used his other hand to keep her flat on the ground. Leia squirmed, straining against him—but he leaned forward, using his superior height and weight to keep her pinned to the floor.
Leia gasped for air, her terror making her lightheaded. Please, she prayed, then said aloud, "Please, no."
Pale Eyes just smiled.
He settled over her hips, moving his hand down from her chest to between her legs. He stroked her once, twice, three times. Leia felt her body respond—respond in a way she didn't know, didn't understand. It felt good and she hated it, she hated it, but her body betrayed the thundering of her heart and the shrieking of her mind.
"That's a good girl," Pale Eyes said, grinning as he lifted his hand to his lips. He licked his fingers, hummed in approval, then reached down to pull down his pants.
He pushed her back so that she was lying flat on the ground, then slid into her with a groan—and everything went white and still. Nothing hurt. There was no more terror, no more anxiety, no more screaming. There was only white silence in Leia's mind.
Pale Eyes rocked against her, pumping in and out. Beneath the white haze, she could tell that it hurt—could feel the tearing sensation deep within her. But she lay still and unresponsive, for once not fighting. She did not have the energy to fight—and besides, what was the point in fighting? It was happening anyway, in spite of all of her protests. So why should she fight anymore?
"Leia…"
Pale Eyes moaned, long and low. And then Leia felt something hot and wet spill inside of her. She shuddered, in spite of the white silence that blanketed her eyes, her ears, her tongue, but then did not move again as Pale Eyes pulled out of her and fastened himself back into his pants.
He leaned forward, cupping Leia's cheek for a moment. He looked down at her, met her eyes with his, smiled. "The Emperor sends his regards," he said.
And then he rose and, turning, left, leaving Leia lying alone in a puddle of blood and white, sticky liquid.
"Leia. Oh, Mother, Leia."
Leia did not respond, certain that Luke's voice was a figment of her imagination, created in her desperation.
"Leia. Leia! Please, oh Mother, Leia please say something."
"Luke." His name escaped her by accident, drawn out by the desperation in his silent thoughts. She couldn't ignore him, even if he was just her imagination—had to respond to his silent plea, so steeped in need.
"Leia. Mother, are you okay? What happened?"
Leia stared up at the ceiling of her cell. She felt nothing—nothing but white, and silence that stilled her thoughts and froze her body. She thought she should be angry—angry with herself for conjuring Luke in her desperation when he had betrayed her, angry with Luke for disappearing when she needed him so badly. But she wasn't angry. She wasn't even upset. She only felt nothing but white and silence.
"Leia?" Luke said again. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Leia said, replying in spite of herself. Even if he was just a figment of her imagination, he sounded so desperate that she couldn't ignore him. "I don't know what it was, but it...it…" She struggled for the words to describe what had just happened, and failed.
"Let me see?" Luke asked.
So Leia remembered what had happened—remembered Pale Eyes unbuckling his belt, remembered him spreading her legs, remembered the tearing pain in her core as he pushed into her. She remembered the spill of warm, sticky liquid inside of her.
"Oh, Mother," Luke whispered, horrified. "No. No, I…" And then his thoughts grew angry, bruised violet and furious red. "I'll kill him. I'll kill the bastard."
"It's okay," Leia said.
And then, all of a sudden, it wasn't okay. Suddenly everything was bad, and horrifying, and above all, wrong. Suddenly the memory of Pale Eyes pushing her down to the floor, spreading her legs, pushing himself into her made her sick, nauseous and dizzy. She began to shake, tiny tremors of horror and disgust wracking her body.
"Oh, Mother," Leia whispered. "Oh, gods."
"It's okay," Luke murmured. He sank deeper into Leia's mind, curling around her horror and disgust and fear and blanketing them with warmth and comfort and beneath it all, love. "I'm here, Leia. I'm here."
Leia began to cry. "It's not okay," she said. "It...I don't know what he did to me. But it...it…" Again she failed to find the words to describe what had happened. All she knew, though, was that it was wrong and horrible.
"I'm here," Luke said.
And suddenly all the anger Leia hadn't been feeling came rushing in, drying her tears and making her fierce. "Where were you?" she snapped to Luke. "You say you're here now, but where were you before when I needed you?"
"I've been trying to reach you," Luke said, sounding desperate—desperate for her to hear him, desperate for her to believe him. "Every day. I tried every single day."
"So why weren't you here?" Leia asked, accusing.
"It was like there was this wall around you. Soft and squishy, and sour, but strong. I could touch you, but I couldn't get in. I mean, there were a couple of times it felt like I did, times when the wall was weak. But most of the time I couldn't."
"But I needed you," Leia said. "And you weren't there. You promised you would be, and you weren't."
"I'm sorry," Luke said. "I swear to you, Leia, I tried."
"But you didn't," Leia accused. "You promised, and you weren't."
"I'm sorry," Luke said again. "I'm so sorry."
The anger bled out of Leia, replaced instead with sorrow. "I needed you," she said, half a whimper.
"I'm sorry," Luke said for a third time. "I'm so, so sorry."
Leia could feel the truth in his words. They were strong and bright, lacking the slick rot of a lie. Leia knew she should believe him—and she did believe him, though the sorrow and the echoes of anger were still there.
"What made you able to reach me today?" Leia asked.
"I don't know," Luke said, though he sounded hesitant. "I...I heard you screaming. And so I tried to reach you, but the wall was still there. But you were still screaming, and screaming, and…" Luke choked. "I heard you. And I kept battering at the wall—and then it broke. It was like it shattered, and suddenly I was able to reach you."
"Oh," Leia said. Then, "What do you think the wall was?"
"I don't know," Luke said. "Maybe something that happened to you? The last thing I knew was you getting hit. Everything was dark for a while, and then the wall went up."
Leia frowned, thinking. "Maybe...maybe I was drugged," she said at last, realization dawning. "The food and water they give me tastes funny."
Leia could feel Luke nod slowly. "Maybe," he said. "But then how were we able to connect?"
"I don't know," Leia said. She smiled. "Maybe our bond is just too strong."
Luke smiled in return. "Maybe."
There was a lull in their conversation, both of them falling silent for a long moment. Then Luke said, "You should sleep. I can feel you're tired."
"I don't want to sleep," Leia said, suddenly afraid. "I'll have nightmares."
"At least get in bed?" Luke said.
Leia sat up slowly. She looked down, and saw the blood and white liquid beneath her, and shuddered. Her shaking, which had eased as she talked to Luke, came rushing back. "Oh gods," she whispered.
"It's okay," Luke soothed. "Come on. Let's get in bed."
Leia stood shakily, and crossed to her bed. She laid down, grabbing her spare shirt and snuggling it against her chest.
"Thank you," Leia said—and realized that, at some point in the conversation, she had stopped thinking that he was a figment of her imagination and started believing he was real.
"For what?" Luke said.
"For coming for me."
"I'll always come for you," Luke said. "Always. I promise."
end notes: So we've come to the end of me making deals with you guys for the next chapter, for the simple reason that...it's not done yet. You can probably expect it in the next three to five days though, so keep your eyes out for it then.
Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you'll consider doing it again, even if there isn't any incentive.
