notes: This chapter's a little bit shorter than most of them. Please don't hate me for that.

Also please note that the rape tw is in full effect for this chapter.


CHAPTER 12

Leia spent the day in Luke's mind, looking out at the world through his eyes. It was a strange and almost mystical feeling; Leia could see and hear and smell everything Luke could, as if she herself was standing—or sitting—there beside him. In fact, sometimes Leia felt as if she was there beside him, living and experiencing everything he was.

"It's strange," she told Luke on the speeder ride back to the farm. Both of them were staring out at the dunes and craggy cliff faces that passed them by, and watching the condors circle lazily overhead. The road curved and zagged ahead of them, taking them ever deeper into the desert wilds.

"What's strange?" Luke asked.

"Being here with you," Leia replied. "I'm so used to just being able to talk to you that now it's...well, almost overwhelming."

"Can I try?" Luke asked.

"There's not much here for you to see," Leia warned him.

"I don't care," Luke replied. "I want to be a part of your world just as much as you're a part of mine."

"Okay," Leia said, relenting. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Leia withdrew, pulling back into her own mind. She had barely readjusted to only being in her own skin, however, when she felt Luke slide into her mind, bright and brilliantly blue and gold.

He filled her. She could feel his thoughts expanding, taking in every inch and corner of her flesh and bones and blood. She opened her eyes—she hadn't even realized she had closed them—and she could feel Luke staring out of them.

"See?" Leia said. She sat up and turned her head, surveying her cell: the cot beneath her, the toilet with its crack in the duracrete above it, the heavy cell door. "Not much here."

"How are you feeling?" Luke asked, surprising Leia.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I can feel the cuts on your body," said Luke. "I could feel them before, but it didn't seem like a good time to ask about it."

"Oh," said Leia. "That." She shrugged, started to say something, then realized that Luke had felt her shrug. Again she was amazed at their new closeness. "I'm okay," she said. "I mean, they hurt. But so what? What can I do about that?"

"Nothing, I guess," Luke said unhappily. "I wish there was some way to make them hurt less, though."

"They don't hurt as much when I'm in your mind," Leia told him.

Luke smiled into her thoughts. "Okay then," he said. "Come back into mine."

Leia did so gladly.

It was nearing sunset by the time Luke and his aunt reached home. Luke climbed out of the speeder slowly, closing the door behind him and standing there for a moment, face uplifted toward the sky. In her cell, Leia shivered; in Luke's mind, however, she basked in the warmth.

The fact that she wasn't actually warm didn't seem to matter. She could feel the suns on Luke's skin, could feel the warmth radiating up from the sandy ground. He was warm, and so she was warm, in thought if not in body.

Uncle Owen appeared in the door to the gatehouse, gloves tucked into his belt and a smear of engine grease on his forehead. "What did they say?" he asked Aunt Beru gruffly. Luke turned toward them and started forward, curious as to what his aunt had to say.

"Broken nose and eye socket," said Aunt Beru. Leia winced internally; she knew how much a broken nose and eye socket hurt. "He spent a couple hours in bacta, which healed the eye socket up nicely. He said Luke's nose will have to heal on its own, though."

Uncle Owen grunted and nodded. "I have dinner on the table," he said, and turned to go back down the stairs to the courtyard.

Luke and Aunt Beru followed.

"Does your uncle normally cook?" Leia asked.

"Nope," said Luke. "This is rare."

They entered the dining room, set off of the kitchen. Grilled womprat thighs awaited them, marinated in tomato and basil and cooked over an open fire. Leia felt Luke's mouth begin to water as soon as he smelled it; Leia's stomach rumbled.

Luke sat after washing and drying his hands in the 'fresher, eagerly looking at the thighs. He bounced in his seat, waiting impatiently for his aunt and uncle to join him.

"Uncle Owen is really good at grilling things," he told Leia. "They always taste delicious."

"It smells delicious," Leia said. She fought back a pang of jealousy. It had been years since she had had a properly good meal.

She told Luke as much.

"Well maybe you can enjoy it through me?" he suggested. "I could feel and hear and smell everything you could when I was in your head. Maybe taste will be the same?"

At last his aunt and uncle appeared from the kitchen and took their seats at the table. Luke grabbed his fork and speared the nearest thigh, plopping it onto his plate with a spatter of juice and sauce.

Luke cut a piece off of the meat and stuck it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Leia could taste it: the running juices, the marinated sauce, the musky flavor of the meat, the full texture. It was the best food she had tasted—or hadn't tasted—in years.

"If only you could have tried the food I used to eat," Leia said with a small sigh. "It was the best food in the galaxy."

"Did your mom cook it?" Luke asked.

Leia laughed. "No," she said. "Mamá was too busy running Alderaan."

With Leia's statement came a memory: her mother, dressed in full court regalia—a heavy brocade dress of purple covered by copper, Alderaan's royal colors, makeup that painted her ten years younger, and a crown of amethyst and pearl. She sat on the Throne of Alderaan, a diamond and alabaster seat at the top of nine steps—one for each of Alderaan's gods—hands resting regally on the throne's armrests, head lifted high before her court.

Leia felt Luke's frown, purple and red in her mind, curling down his lips. "I've heard of Alderaan," Luke said slowly "But what did your mom have to do with running it?" A beat. Then, "Why was she wearing a crown?"

"Because she was the Queen," said Leia softly.

"Your mom was the queen of Alderaan?" Luke asked, shocked. "But that would make you—"

"The princess," said Leia. "Yeah. I was the princess. Was. I'm not anymore."

"Why not?" Luke asked.

Leia froze, then frowned. "I'm just not. Nobody wanted me."

"But being a princess is something in your blood," said Luke. "Not something somebody else makes you."

"I was adopted," Leia told Luke. "So it kind of was."

"But you were the legitimate princess, weren't you?" Luke asked.

"Why is this so important to you?" Leia asked.

"I think it's really cool," said Luke. "And shouldn't it be important to you too?"

"I made my peace with this a long time ago," Leia said, trying not to cry. "Nobody wanted me. So I'm not Princess anymore."

Luke was unconvinced, but he did not press. "Okay," was all he said. "Let's just finish enjoying this womprat."

"Okay," said Leia gratefully.

After dinner, Luke sat in the living room with his aunt and uncle—as he usually did—and watched a program on the vidscreen. Leia watched with them, curled up in Luke's mind.

"That was the most entertainment I've had in years," she told him when the program was over. "Mostly I just…stare at a wall. Or at the floor. Or at someone, back when the Inquisitors were trying to train me."

"That sounds terribly boring," said Luke. "Hopefully I can provide more entertainment now."

"Now that I can go into your mind," Leia said, "I'm sure that you will."

Luke was just climbing into bed when Pale Eyes came.

The door to Leia's cell opened with a snick and swung open. Leia sat up on her cot, hugging the spare shirt to her chest, eyeing the door with trepidation.

"Leia?" Luke asked, sliding seamlessly into her mind. "What's going on?"

He saw Pale Eyes enter, cocky and sure.

"Oh no," Luke whispered.

Leia remained frozen where she sat, every muscle in her body rigid, eyes wide and locked onto Pale Eyes's face, coiled in a smile. She did not even see the second man enter behind Pale Eyes, nor did she recognize him as Crooked Nose.

"You sure we should be doing this?" Crooked Nose asked as the door swung shut behind him, sealing with a click.

"Oh, Mother," said Luke hoarsely, seeing Pale Eyes through Leia's eyes. "He's the one that…"

"Yeah," said Leia.

"Why not?" said Pale Eyes. Leia's eyes were fastened on him: his lips, his eyes, his expression. "Nobody cares about her enough to check in. We can do whatever we like, and when I take her into the infirmary tomorrow, they'll just heal any damage we do."

"Please, Luke," Leia whispered. "Go."

"No, I'm not leaving you here alone," Luke replied.

Crooked Nose shifted uncomfortably, the movement enough that Leia could see it out of the corner of her eyes. "What if we get caught?" he asked, eyeing the security cameras.

"Please, Luke, I'm begging you."

"Nobody cares," Pale Eyes said again. "Trust me. It's okay."

"If you care about me—if you love me—then go."

Leia glanced at Crooked Nose, a pleading look on her face and in the desperate, flat edge of her lips. Crooked Nose's gaze settled on Leia. Please, she begged silently. Don't do this.

He shifted again. "She's just a kid," he hedged.

"Look," said Pale Eyes, "do you want a fuck tonight or not?"

"But why?" Luke asked. "Do you want to be alone for this?"

"Yes," Leia said.

"Yeah," said Crooked Nose. "But she's a kid."

"I know you're lying," said Luke. "I'm in your head, remember?"

"Fine," said Leia. "I don't want to be alone. But I don't want you here either. Luke, please."

"Why?" Luke asked. "Give me one good reason why."

"I didn't you to come with me because I thought you were a pussy," said Pale Eyes. "Now man up and get over yourself. Do you wanna do this or not?"

"Yeah," said Crooked Nose. "Yeah, I do."

Pale Eyes nodded. "Good."

"Luke, go!" Leia shrieked silently. "I don't want you to witness this."

Luke hesitated. Then, softly, he said, "Okay. But I'll be here when it's over."

He pulled out of Leia's mind, leaving her hollow and cold. Already she had grown accustomed to his presence; already, without him in her head—or her in his—she felt bereft and alone, lost, empty.

Pale Eyes grinned and stalked forward. "Remember me, 851?" he asked, making a kissing noise. He reached the edge of her cot, and Leia crammed herself into the corner, drawing her legs up to her chest.

"Please," she whimpered. "Don't—"

Pale Eyes reached out and grabbed her by the ankles, dragging her off of the bed. Leia shrieked and clawed at the cot's thin mattress, at the bar supporting it, at anything that could keep Pale Eyes from pulling her off of the bed. The spare shirt, which she had been holding tightly to her chest, fell to the floor.

She landed on the ground, hard, knocking the breath from her lungs. She gasped and struggled to breathe—and in the few seconds it took her to recover, Pale Eyes knelt on top of her.

"Hello there," he said, grinning.

"No," Leia said. "No, please—"

Pale Eyes cut her off with a kiss. Leia struggled beneath him, choking on his tongue and saliva, kicking uselessly at the air and ground. Her hands Pale Eyes grabbed when she reached for him, pinning them above her head.

"Now, now," he said, breaking the kiss and sitting up, "we can't have any of that. Be a good little girl and let me fuck you."

Transferring her wrists to one hand, Pale Eyes rose slightly and slid his free hand between her legs. Leia shuddered at his touch—but fell still beneath him, a sick, rotten feeling burgeoning in her stomach. It stole her breath, stole her fire, stole her fight like ice in her veins.

"No," she whimpered one last time, before the ice stole her words as well.

"I want you good and wet before I fuck you," said Pale Eyes, playing with her.

Leia, frozen, could not respond.

Her body, however, could. She felt warmth grow in her lower belly, felt wetness gather between her legs. She struggled to breathe through the ice and the rotten feeling, which grew exponentially with each stroke of Pale Eyes's fingers, tried to understand what was happening.

Pale Eyes laughed. "Poor thing," he said, mockingly insincere. "You don't even know what's happening to you, do you?"

Leia whimpered deep in her chest and tried very hard not to cry.

"There," said Pale Eyes half a moment later. "You're ready."

He unbuckled his pants, and what Leia had been fearing ever since it had happened the first time happened again.

It took longer this time. Pale Eyes took his time, rocking in and out of her with a slow, measured rhythm. Leia could only lay there, trapped beneath his weight, beneath his presence—beneath her fear. She could barely breathe, could barely hear anything but Pale Eyes's grunts and the rush of blood in her own ears, could only think, over and over again, "Please," and, "No."

Warmth spilled within her, and Leia gasped, though whether it was in horror or disgust, she could not say. Pale Eyes pulled out of her and stood up, buckling himself back into his pants. He turned to Crooked Nose.

"Your turn," he said.

Crooked Nose still looked uncomfortable, but he crossed to Leia and knelt between her legs.

Leia lay still beneath him, barely breathing. "Please," she whispered.

"Sorry, kid," Crooked Nose said. "But I haven't had a fuck in god knows how long."

"Please…"

He unbuckled his pants and shoved into Leia with a grunt, then began to rock in and out of her, moaning with each movement.

Leia, frozen and petrified with horror, could only lie there, feeling him pump in and out, in and out, in and out. She thought of calling for Luke—thought of begging him to come to help her. Thought of going to him.

No, she told herself, again and again. No, I won't let him suffer through this too.

Leia thought of Luke—of his brilliance, of his kindness, of love. She thought of him, and of his care for her, and the way he had always been there for her after her darkest moments. She remembered the house on the lakeshore, and her and Luke racing through the gardens playing tag. She remembered the darkness of the room she had been kept in, and Luke's bright voice being the only light in her life. She thought of Luke—and something in her snapped.

She screamed, high-pitched and furious, and she reached up to grab onto Crooked Nose's ear. She ripped downward—and she felt something tear beneath her fingers.

Blood sprayed from the side of Crooked Nose's head and he shrieked with pain, lifting a hand to clutch at the hole where his ear had been. He shrieked again and stumbled upwards, pulling out of Leia and staggering to his feet, blood already running between his fingers and down his arm to his elbow.

"What the fuck?" he screamed.

Leia sat up, feeling an ache in her core and ignoring it. "You'll never touch me again!" she screamed and, standing unsteadily, reached out with a hand and closed a fist of power on Crooked Nose's spinal cord.

She jerked.

The crack of bone shattering echoed throughout the entire cell. Crooked Nose fell to the ground in a heap, eyes open and bugging out, mouth hanging wide in eternal surprise.

Pale Eyes stood there for half a second, frozen in shock, and then he leapt into action. He grabbed for the door, wrenched it open, and slid through the gap as soon as there was enough room for him to squeeze through. He slammed the door shut again behind him before Leia could even so much as round on him.

Leia collapsed to her knees, all of the fight draining out of her. Oh, Mother Love, she prayed, squeezing her eyes shut, forgive me. I used the Force and—forgive me. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me…

She only prayed that she had not just spelled her own damnation.

~oOo~

Jerrid Delious, known to Leia Organa as Pale Eyes, was very displeased with a great many things.

"Just tell him I'm here," he snapped at the Emperor's secretary. "He'll want to see me."

The Emperor's secretary was a tall, beautiful woman, with blonde hair dyed an unnatural shade of red accented by her choice of lipstick. She had startlingly blue eyes, full lips, and a chin and cheekbones sharp enough to cut. A turquoise dress clung to her curves—curves that she clearly knew she had, and that she clearly knew how to use to her advantage.

"Quite frankly, sir," she said, all oily business and aggravating calm, "I'm not sure how you even got this far into the palace. There isn't room for likes of you," she stressed the "you" enough that Jerrid had absolutely no misconceptions about what kind of person she thought he was, "here in the Emperor's waiting room."

Jerrid ground his teeth together. "Just tell him I'm here," he ground out a second time. "He'll want to see me.",

"As you've said," the secretary told him coolly, with the same infuriating calm. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have actual matters of state to attend to."

"Fine," Jerrid snapped. "I'll just wait for him here then."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible," the secretary said quickly, rising when Jerrid made an attempt to step farther into the waiting area. "This room is for those who are waiting for the Emperor only."

Jerrid spread his hands apart. "I'm waiting for the Emperor," he told her, "so I qualify, don't I?"

"No," she began, "that's not what I meant—"

The door to the Emperor's study slid open, revealing a sharp angle of a man. He had brown hair edged in silver and slate blue eyes that reminded Jerrid of ice, a pointed chin, and an arched brow. He was dressed in the Imperial Navy's uniform, the bars on his lapel proclaiming him to be a Moff.

Jerrid bowed deeply to the Moff. When he straightened, he made a beeline for the closing office door.

"Wait," the secretary called, "you can't just—"

"Excuse me, Your Grace?" Jerrid said, stepping into the doorway just as the secretary's hand landed on his shoulder like claws.

The Emperor, seated behind his desk, looked up.

"Ah, Jerrid," he said, bringing his hands together before him. "This is a surprise." There was a hard edge to his words, a subtle warning that Jerrid took note of—and summarily ignored.

"I need to speak with you, Your Grace," he said quickly. "About 851."

"I apologize, Emperor Palpatine," the secretary said, fingers tightening around Jerrid's shoulder in an attempt to drag him backwards and out of the door. "This won't happen again—"

"No, Delilah," said the Emperor. "Let him come in."

Jerrid could feel Delilah's shock from behind him. He smirked to himself, shrugging off her suddenly lax hand. "Thank you, Your Grace," he said with a deep bow, and then stepped into the darkly furnished office.

"Take a seat," said the Emperor. Jerrid obeyed. "Now tell me, Jerrid, what was so important that you disturb my day?"

"It's 851, Your Grace," said Jerrid. "She killed a man."

Emperor Palpatine leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers before him. "Is that so?" he asked, intrigued. Jerrid could hear it in his voice.

"Yes, Your Grace," Jerrid said.

"And how did she kill him?" the Emperor asked.

"Here's the kicker—she did it with the Force."

"Did she really?" Emperor Palpatine asked, voice dipping low into a hoarse murmur. He sat back in his chair. Through the shadows cast by his cowl, drawn low over his forehead, Jerrid could make out the Emperor pursing his lips. "How...unexpected."

"How is that possible?" Jerrid asked, leaning forward himself. "You said that the drug given to her in her food and water would inhibit her ability to use the Force."

"It would appear there was a mistake," said the Emperor. "Or, perhaps she is stronger than we gave her credit for, and she was able to overcome the inhibitor…" He trailed off, lost in thought that Jerrid did not dare interrupt.

At last the Emperor cleared his throat. "I will provide you with a concentrated version of the inhibitor to inject her with prior to her sessions with Vrosha and yourself. That should be enough to keep her from utilizing the Force while she is being worked on."

Jerrid swallowed heavily. "Then you do want me to continue raping her?" he asked.

"That was the agreement, was it not?" asked the Emperor. "You rape Leia Organa, and I clear your name of all pedophilia charges?"

"Yes, Your Grace," said Jerrid. "It's just—" He swallowed his tongue, suddenly afraid that he had stepped too far past the comfort zone.

The Emperor just laughed. "What is it, Jerrid?" he asked, clearly amused.

"You're sure she won't be able to use the Force on me?"

"Not if you inject her with the inhibitor concentrate," said the Emperor.

Jerrid was not sure he truly believed the Emperor—but who was he to disagree?

He nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace," he said.

"Was that all?" the Emperor asked.

Jerrid nodded and stood, bowing low once more. "Thank you for your time, Your Grace," he said, clasping his hands behind his back as he straightened.

"I will have the new inhibitor shots delivered to you by tomorrow evening," said the Emperor. "You may go."

Jerrid bowed again, then turned and hurried from the room.

Delilah was waiting for him. She was perched against her desk, arms folded across her breasts, expression haughty and mocking.

"I see the Emperor did not dismember you," she said. "Pity." Then, with that, she turned her back to him and made a show of sitting down at her desk, not once lifting her eyes to him in a clear dismissal.

Jerrid left the palace with all due haste. While she had been an ass about it, Delilah was right—he didn't belong there, in his prison guard's uniform and with his calloused fingers and hard, coarse tongue. He belonged in the streets of Coruscant with the rabble, in the dark and dank underbelly of the city planet, where he could drunkenly vomit in alleyways and piss in dumpsters.

He had the rest of the night to himself before his shift early the next morning. He was scheduled to bring Leia Organa—prisoner 851, he reminded himself—to the infirmary first thing. He was not looking forward to it. Though he was loath to admit it, even to himself, he was frightened of the girl now. He hadn't been—not until she had snapped Ericson's neck like a twig.

He had never seen someone use the Force before that. Oh, he had heard stories about the Jedi back in the days of the Old Republic, and more recently about the fabled Inquisitors and infamous Darth Vader—but he had never seen it up close and personal.

He had wanted to, before. Now, however, he was glad he had only seen it the once.

He prayed he would never see it again.

Is it worth it? he wondered, as he hopped onto one of the large lifts that carried passengers down to lower levels of the city. He had three counts of pedophilia on his permanent record. This left him unable to get any job other than prison work or the really awful jobs cleaning the city streets, and unable to live anywhere within a mile of someone under the age of 13. This meant he had to move a lot, and that the only places he could rent from were in the seediest parts of town—the parts no parent would be willing to raise a child in, unless they were in dire straits.

It's not my fault I'm attracted to kids, Jerrid thought grumpily as the lift dinged. The doors slid open to a nighttime dark street, and Jerrid shoved his way out of the durasteel box.

If the inhibitor worked like the Emperor said it would, then the deal would be back to being perfect: Jerrid got to get off—got to fuck a kid who was only a little older than his preferred targets—and he got his permanent record expunged. That would mean no more living in shitholes, and no more prison work. He would be able to go back to living a good life—one that he didn't want to drink away every night.

He came to a halt outside of his favorite pub. It was where he and most of the prison crew gathered off-shift to drink and hang out. Jerrid was late tonight—but he doubted anyone would care, or even notice.

He pushed his way in, allowing himself to forget about Leia Organa and the Emperor, even if only for a few hours.

~oOo~

As he had promised, Luke was waiting for Leia just on the other side of their connection.

"Mother," he gasped when Leia at last sank through their bond and into Luke's mind. "I was so worried about you. What happened, Leia? Why were you gone for so long?"

"You know what happened," Leia said dully.

"Did it really last that long?" Luke asked, wary and uncertain, afraid.

"No," Leia told him. "I just...I couldn't face you."

"Why not?" Luke asked, perplexed. "You don't think I see you any different, do you, Leia?"

"It's not that," she said. "It's just… I did something bad, Luke."

"What?" Luke asked.

"I used the Force," Leia whispered. "I was thinking about you, and something just—just snapped. Inside me. And I couldn't bear it anymore. I started screaming, and I ripped off his ear, and then I snapped his neck."

"Pale Eyes?"

"No," Leia said with a shake of her head. "Crooked Nose."

"I don't know who that is," said Luke. Leia showed him a memory of him, and Luke nodded sagely.

"Okay," he said. "That's okay though, right? You just used it once. That's not the end of the world, is it?"

"I don't know," Leia all but wailed. "I just keep thinking about Shmi—about how disappointed she'd be in me. And how she kept saying that I would bring darkness to the galaxy if I gave in and used the Force."

"Okay," said Luke again. "Then you just don't use the Force anymore."

"But I can't control it," Leia said desperately. "I decide I'm not going to use it again, and then I do."

"Then that's not your fault," said Luke. "If you can't control it, then it's hardly your fault."

"But I keep doing it," Leia protested. "And if what Shmi said is true, then I'll bring darkness—"

"I think that's only if you consciously decide to use it," said Luke.

"How do you know?" Leia asked.

"I guess I don't. Not for sure. But it doesn't make sense that you'd bring darkness to the galaxy by accidentally using it."

"What do you mean?" Leia asked.

"I mean, how can you bring darkness to the galaxy by accidentally using the Force?"

"I don't know," Leia said, fighting back tears. "But Shmi said—"

"What exactly did Shmi say?"

"That if I gave in then I'd bring Darkness to the galaxy."

"Well there you go then. If you give in."

"But I did."

"Did you?" Luke asked. "It seems to me that "giving in" means using the Force on purpose, not accidentally doing so."

Leia hesitated in her panic. "Maybe," she said slowly.

"I don't think this is the end of the world, Leia," Luke said.

"I hope not," Leia replied.

"We should sleep," Luke said then. "Both of us."

"Okay," Leia said slowly, much more calmly. "Thank you, Luke."

Luke sank into her mind, bringing with him warmth and the impression of sunlight and moonlight. "You're welcome," he said. "I love you, Leia."

"I love you too," Leia replied, and withdrew from his mind just enough to fall asleep. She did so, her thoughts cradled in Luke's, his warmth and light chasing away the fear and dark memories.


end notes: What did you think? Do you hate Jerrid as much as I do?