Disclaimer: They ain't mine.
The forest is quiet at this time of night, the only sounds coming from the swirling of the wind. You can't sleep, even though you know you should. There is a war to win tomorrow, one on which the future of the galaxy depends.
But tonight you can only focus on the past.
You were asked about your mother, and it threw you off guard.
Just a little bit. She died when I was very young. You don't know why you answered the way you did. It just tumbled out. Truth is, you never knew her. Not in the way a daughter should.
You knew of her though. It was no secret that you were adopted, and your father would tell stories of their times together in the Senate. The stories were always superficial, but they served the purpose of keeping a young girl's curiosity satisfied. You found a holo of her once, stashed away in a room in the palace that you weren't really supposed to be in. You stared at it for what must have been hours, trying to imprint every feature of her into your mind. The way she stood, her intricate hair style, the way that her smile seemed to be hiding something else.
Then your aunts found you and that was the end of that.
The stories and the holo weren't much, but they were enough. You vowed to be like her as you grew up; idolizing the mother you never had the chance to meet.
You wonder what she'd think of you now.
It was only after Alderaan was destroyed that you realized your father never told you her name.
Now you can't help but wonder if he had anything to do with her death.
Vader. Your real father.
You shake your head and amend that thought. Your biological father. Nothing more. In fact, you're having a hard time believing that right now, although deep down you know it's true.
You find it impossible that a monster like that could love. You find it impossible that your mother could love a monster like that. Luke feels that there is good in him still, but you can't imagine that he was ever good. Somehow, it tarnishes the image of your mother that you've held close to you for all these years.
But you've also gained a brother, one that maybe you knew you had all along. And it doesn't make up for the horrors you've learned tonight, but it's something.
Your reverie is intruded upon by a hand on your shoulder. You instinctively know who it is, and marvel at the fact that he's still here.
He didn't ask questions after your outburst on the bridge. You weren't yourself- and he knew it. Normally you would have had a sarcastic remark to counter his accusation of confiding in Luke over him, but you were too lost at that moment to come up with anything. You needed something to cling to, and so he stood there, stroking your hair and trying to calm your trembling body.
He didn't ask questions as he walked you back to the hut you've been sleeping in the past few nights. Instead he told you how the creatures inhabiting this place thought Threepio was a god, because he knew it would make you laugh. And it did, if only for an instant.
And he didn't ask questions when you asked him to stay the night, even though you haven't shared a bed since the flight to Bespin. You'll tell him eventually- all the things you've learned tonight. But not now. Your life has changed drastically in these past few hours, and right now you feel like he's the one constant you have left. Tell him, and that's changed too.
"Let me help you." That's all he says before he takes your hand and gently pulls you away from the window.
You're not sure things can be helped tonight. There's a war raging, and realistically, the chances of the good guys winning are pretty slim. Your newly found brother is off fighting your father, who is more monster than man. You're a part of that monster, and there's nothing that can change that.
But there's someone offering to be a safety net for the night, and you know he's good. And that will have to do for now.
You silently offer a prayer to a goddess that may no longer exist; then follow him back to bed.