Mother chats quietly with the doctors at the edge of the room. Apparently they still think I can't hear a thing. "Might there be… a chance she is recovering?" Mother is asking.
The doctor shakes her head. "There's no possibility of that, Your Majesty. The effects of the XTO permanently damaged her mind past the point of…"
I stop listening because I don't want to hear this! They don't know. They don't understand that maybe I can recover… Only Uncle Luke understands…
But then I hear that they're going to lock up my room even tighter since I got out, and it makes me scream, scream, scream, and cry, cry, cry… How can they do this to me? Don't they understand? Doesn't Mother care—?
I think she does. Because I catch a hint of tears in her eyes as she goes… But she doesn't stay to comfort me, or try and help me.
No one stays to try and help me.
Except my uncle. A few days later, he comes back to find me in a sorry state. The first feeling of shame I've experienced in months—or years—whatever—comes over me, burning my face…
But Uncle Luke doesn't say anything. He just smiles gently at me, then puts his hands over me like he's been doing. He shuts his eyes, breathing deeply. I feel those now-familiar currents of warm pure energy, and feel safe again and no longer panicked by my entrapment…
A little while later, Uncle Luke is gone again. I get up. I go to the one window I am allowed in this room, and look out onto the lightening storm. How I've always loved them. Oh—I remember that, now. Yes. Lightening storms…
Love the wildness of them. The unpredictability. The untamed power .
But something new, tonight. An animal, trapped in the thick mud. It tries to get out, but with little success. Eventually, it lies down, letting itself be washed dead by the showers of rain accompanying the lightening…
'That's me,' I realize, false heart beating furiously in my chest. It hurts. Both the false heart and the false lungs make me ache with each and every breath. 'That's me. I'm the animal… laying in the mud…
'What does he want? What does he want from me?' I question. Because I am still alive. He left me to live. No assassins have come. So he yet wants something from me.
And then, I realize: 'He can't have my soul, too.' He took my body. I will never be strong like others again. He took my mind. That girl died there. He even took my spirit. Never again can I find love for the Empire within myself.
'But he's not going to have my soul,' I decide as I look at the surrendered animal laying stuck in the mud. 'I'm going to get up from this furnace floor… and I'm going to fight… because I will not become more of his ashes. And if I do die… it's going to be in a better kind of flame.'
OOO
Luke and I exchanged no more than two words on the entire flight to rendezvous with the rest of the collected fleet. He had a clearance code, and soon we sat in the belly of the Liberty , a vast ship as sleek and well-equipped as any. How he got us such materials and ships, I never knew. I didn't care about the mystery anymore.
I was sick of the sight of his face, knowing at this very moment what he had left Mother, the staff, and Tai-Lin to. And I thought I was heartless.
"Padmé—"
"Get out of my way ." If he wouldn't listen, I knew one person who would . Dad would help me. Surely he would.
"No," said Luke evenly. We'd begun to attract a bit of a crowd in the hangar. Oh, they pretended to keep on with their various chores, but when the silence was so evident it was pretty unconvincing. "We have to talk. And we need to figure out what blew your covers and how deep it goes—"
"What does it matter? You left them there!"
"They won't talk."
I slapped him, hard. Gasps ensued among the crowd. Luke took this with calm, and made no move to defend himself.
"So sure are you?" I retorted. I thought of what must be happening to them all, to Mother. Again . Was It interrogating her, even this very moment? Probably Luke knew, though in his coldness would never share it…
"Yes. I've foreseen it."
He'd foreseen all of this? "You son of a—"
"Hey," said Biggs, pushing through the crowd. He had a pinched look about his face. Tension danced in his eyes. "I think I can tell you what happened here."
I thought of about fifty retorts to him… and as a result voiced none of them. "Fine. Talk to him." I refused to say my uncle's name. "I'm going to find my father."
"That's just what I was going to tell you, Princess Padmé. Your father's gone. When you left, so did he, Luke. And he took his ship. That's what got you all caught."
OOO
"Where is Han?"
"We don't know," said General Andor simply. "We've been listening to the Imperial traffic we're tapped into, but all we know is that he made an escape from the Empire."
"—too late." It was the first time I'd said anything for about half an hour. Everyone seemed shocked. Maybe they thought I'd drifted.
Nope.
It was Admiral Holdo who spoke up. "It seems like it. They were somehow able to identify that the ship was your father's from his days as Viceroy. From there it wasn't too hard to make the leap."
Why ? It was the only question I could ask myself. Why had my father done this? He knew the risks of leaving. I'd heard Luke explain them to him. He had spoken directly to—to Mother about helping us by letting us use the Falcon , one of the slimmest ships in the galaxy still in operation, for the penetration of the Death Star II belly. Mother had said it would "all be alright," whatever that meant.
Even if he'd wanted to go, he should have realized how much bad could happen if he did. He ought to have stayed here, hunkered down, let go of his selfish wishes… But that was just it. He hadn't. He couldn't . He'd thought only of himself when he had left, and of no one else, and in doing so…
I stood up. All eyes went to meet mine. I said simply, "I have no father."
OOO
Alderaan might be caught. But the plan didn't change. The Endor team was already in place for tomorrow. I sat in an empty hallway at the back of the Liberty , a spot where a force field protected one from falling down into the depths below, where countless mechanics worked on their ships… How could normal life continue, when the worlds themselves were over? I knew the answer, had learned it after Mustafar. It just always did.
But that didn't mean that I must continue with it. For so long, I had been determined to fight on, to prove myself as capable as everyone else despite things. I'd had a chip on my shoulder and felt like I had something to prove.
Well, I hadn't been able to prove it. Because in the end, all of this was my fault.
When I heard the soft sound of footsteps, I cringed. "I don't want to talk." Now I was certain my uncle had seen what I'd done to Alba. I never knew how I would explain that.
Why should I even feel the need to? To explain to him ?
"Alright. I'll make it brief, then," said Adalyse in her gossamer voice.
My head snapped to look at her so fast that I got whiplash. "...what're you doing here?"
"I thought you might need me."
I wanted to use my usual, "I'm fine." But the words got lodged in my tight throat and became suffocated there in a sea of grief. I merely nodded, beginning to tear up, and with tenderness she hugged me to her.
"You've had a bad week," she said simply.
For some reason, I laughed. The statement just seemed so absurdly under the mark. "...yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
Silence for a while. We watched the ship repairs go on for the coming battle. Then, "It wasn't your fault, Padmé. It so wasn't your fault."
"You don't…" understand. I wanted to tell her about Ray, and my foolishness in telling no one about the situation. I wanted to tell her that tracking down Dad had been my suggestion. I wanted to tell her that I wasn't sane, and would never be, and so how could I ever have seen fit to claim so many responsibilities? More than anything I wanted to tell her that I'd hurt someone horribly in the name of protecting other people who now hadn't been protected after all. And that I was afraid of myself now… and afraid of the prince. Of his power. Of his threats.
Of what he might this moment be doing to Mother.
But I was, in the end, a coward. Because I couldn't bear to tell Adalyse any of these things. I knew she, too, might lose faith in me like Luke clearly had.
"No, listen to me." Adalyse's voice was more resonant than I'd ever heard from her before. Her eyes were hard, like chips of stone. "You can't make other people's choices for them. You've made your own choices, and they've been good choices, especially with the cards you've been dealt. This is… a terrible situation you're now in. One of many in your life so far. Probably there will be more. And I'm not going to waste time trying to comfort you, because this is awful and nothing could make it hurt less. Just don't blame your uncle."
"Excuse me?"
"He's a Jedi, Padmé."
"Yeah. I'm aware."
"And Jedi serve the Force above all. They give up attachment in order to serve it and all the citizens of the galaxy. You think it's not a hard thing? A hard life? She's your mother, and they're your people, but she's his twin sister, too. And he's hurting, even if he isn't showing it. That's why he's the greatest Jedi. Making the hard choices that serve the greater good, even when they don't serve the individual's personal good."
I remembered, like a dream, a scene from the River Wuitho almost seven years ago now. Luke offering to train me. Saying that Jedi gave up attachment. Saying it was a hard life. Saying I must be very certain if I chose to undertake it.
Comprehension finally came.
And I remembered, too, the way Luke's voice had broken as he said we couldn't go back. But he had kept driving, driving so that the hope of the galaxy didn't die today. Leaving his sister behind so that he could continue to fight for her cause.
And I realized that he was a hero, and a true Jedi. I hadn't understood what being a Jedi really meant. It was true. In my mind, I'd glorified it to something where you got to spin around using laser swords and ending evil while powered by a Force that made you almost superhuman. I'd refused to understand why Luke had given up Biggs, made fun of it even. Because I'd never really gotten it .
Now, I did. A difficult life, indeed.
And I knew that I could never make the cut for it.
OOO
I went right to my uncle's quarters. Better to apologize now, like ripping off the bacta patch. Face up to my activities with Alba and the prince. Probably he knew all of it anyway. Echoes of "Padmé… what have you done?" swam through my thoughts.
I was determined, now, not to think of Mother. I couldn't, or I'd lose it again. I dug my nails into my forearm and entered my uncle's quarters—
Only to hear him scream out, "Leia!" And then I was running, running to find him, to help him—
I found him jarred from meditation, a wild look in his eyes. When he first saw me, he cried out, making to draw an unattached lightsaber at me—
Then he saw me and went slack.
"Uncle Luke…?"
He panted, gripping the edge of his dresser, repeatedly shaking his head. "It's a trap ."
I swallowed. "— what is?"
"Endor," gasped Luke. "They're waiting for us. They're all waiting for us. This whole thing… it's been a trap."
OOO
A/N: ~plot twist! What do you think will happen now that they know it's a trap?
Thanks for reading.
Warm wishes,
Hope
