Four

"What's going on with your sister?"

Luke looked up briefly from his datapad to flick his mother with a cursory glance and shrugged. "I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine."

Padmé was immediately inclined to believe he was lying, not necessarily because he had a propensity towards deception but because she understood that few people knew Leia as intimately as Luke did. She was very aware of the strong bond between them. Given that, Padmé was certain that if anyone knew Leia's most closely guarded secrets, it was Luke.

Her expression beset with skepticism, she approached her distracted son where he lay sprawled across the ornate sofa in his grandmother's sitting room and resolutely plucked his datapad from his fingers. His exasperated groan quickly followed. Luke glowered up at her in unconcealed annoyance.

"What did I do now?" he sighed, pushing himself into an upright position.

After setting aside the datapad, Padmé took the empty spot next to him on the sofa and regarded him squarely. "Leia is acting strangely. She's become so secretive lately. I want you to tell me the reason."

She hadn't been entirely truthful when she had reassured Anakin that there was no reason to worry about their errant daughter because she hadn't wanted to worsen his insecurities. Leia's strange behavior did concern her. While Padmé wasn't quite as distraught as Anakin was about Leia's slow progress in accepting him, she did find her daughter's stubborn resistance troubling.

Unlike Anakin, she had been half expecting the response anyway. Leia had always been prone to mercurial shifts in mood. She was very selective about the people she let into her inner circle, which was the reason Padmé was reluctant to restrict the inordinate amount of time Leia had begun spending with her new friend. Leia didn't trust often.

Still, Padmé also couldn't ignore how withdrawn and recalcitrant her daughter had grown over the past two weeks. She was especially concerned because she and Anakin had agreed to travel to Tatooine in a matter of days to see Owen and Beru, and Padmé dreaded Leia's possible reaction to leaving her newfound friend behind. She didn't like how attached Leia had become to the woman even though she seemed harmless enough.

Padmé had yet to meet her in person, but she had caught sight of the old woman at a distance, and she seemed rather grandmotherly in her affection towards Leia. She didn't want to begrudge her daughter the companionship, especially when it seemed that Leia was isolating herself emotionally from everyone else. That subtle change in personality niggled Padmé the most. It was one thing to hold Anakin at arm's length and even to keep secrets from Padmé to a degree, but it was quite another when Leia began taking active steps to avoid her brother too. The sudden friction between them was raising strident alarm bells for Padmé.

"Did you two have a fight?" she asked Luke.

Something akin to guilt and apprehension flickered across Luke's countenance, and Padmé's initial suspicions were confirmed when Luke countered warily, "Is that what she told you?"

"Leia hasn't said a word. She won't talk to me. That's the reason I'm asking you."

"Oh. Well, she started it." Padmé groaned his name in exasperation. Luke threw up his hands. "What? You always blame me!"

"I'm not blaming you. I'm asking you what happened."

"We had a disagreement. That's all," Luke muttered, "It was stupid, and she's taking what I said to her way too personally. She wouldn't be angry if it wasn't true."

"What exactly did you say to her?"

Luke waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know. I barely remember. It was a whole week ago! She's just being dramatic like always."

"Why did you have a disagreement in the first place?"

The unease reasserted itself, becoming more pronounced in the frown that knitted Luke's forehead. "I told you it was stupid," he insisted, "Not even worth repeating."

"Obviously it's not stupid to Leia if she's not talking to you," she reasoned, "Clearly, her feelings are hurt. It's not like you to be flippant about that."

"First of all, she is talking to me," Luke retorted in weak defensiveness, "Just this morning, she asked me to 'pass the shuura fruit,' and I did it! Second of all, she hurts my feelings all the time and you never get all over her like this!" Padmé growled out his name again, this time with gathering impatience and Luke sighed heavily.

"She's just jealous because Dad is getting all of our attention!" he exploded suddenly, "That's what I told her! That's why she's looking for trouble where there isn't any!"

"What sort of trouble?"

Luke vacillated for a long while with his reply, visibly caught between dismissing the subject entirely and yielding to his mother's insistent prodding. Finally, after a few beats of silence and with a great deal of reluctance, he confessed in a mumble, "Leia thinks Dad is keeping a secret from us."

Padmé ignored the ripple of apprehension that went through her. She kept her features perfectly composed when she asked, "Why would she think that?"

"You know how Leia is. She can always tell when people are lying and…she says that Dad is lying to us."

"About what?"

"I don't know," Luke replied, "And honestly, I don't care! He's entitled to his secrets! We don't need to know everything!"

Luke's clear reluctance to push the matter and minimize his sister's feelings in the process, in addition to learning the truth behind Leia's odd behavior, only served to heighten Padmé's anxiety. The revelation that Anakin was harboring a secret from her wasn't exactly surprising news. She knew that already. He had confessed as much to her the night they had arrived on Naboo. At his behest, she had not pressed him on it. They had not spoken about it since, but the undercurrent of fear and doubt lingered, nonetheless.

She was further alarmed that Leia had picked up on it. Her worry stemmed not from the knowledge that Anakin was actively keeping secrets from her, but from what those secrets might be and how they would ultimately affect their family. She suspected that Luke harbored a similar fear, and that was the reason for his dismissive response.

"I need to talk to your father," she said, "He and I are long overdue for a conversation." The muttered statement was more an edict to herself than a declaration to Luke. His reaction to her words, however, was instantaneous and visceral.

"No, Mom!" he cried anxiously before she could shift to her feet, "Don't do that!"

Padmé glanced at him sharply, staggered by his sudden outburst. "Why? What do you know, Luke?" she asked him with burgeoning suspicion.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Luke Skywalker, do not lie to me! Did your father say something to you? Tell me!"

"He hasn't said anything! I swear it!"

"Then why don't you want me to talk to him? What's going on?"

"I don't really know how to explain it to you…" he choked out softly, "…or even what it means. All I know is that when Leia and I found Dad on Mortis he was very different. He looked different and he felt different. He was still Dad, but he was something else too. And ever since we left Mortis, he still feels like that, and I don't know why."

Padmé slowly sank back down beside him. "So, what does that mean?" she asked him in a tremulous tone, "Is that man really your father?"

"Yes! It's really him. That's not a trick, Mom!"

"Then what are you saying to me? Help me understand. You know that the Force intuition you have is far beyond me."

"Something happened to Dad when he was on Mortis," Luke confided, "Something he doesn't want to talk about. He doesn't even want to think about it. He just wants to be with us. He wants that more than anything. I think we should leave it alone, Mom."

"I don't know if that's possible. If your sister can sense that something is wrong and it's making her pull away from him…from us, then we have to address, Luke," she reasoned, "You know that."

"No, we don't. Leia will get over it. She needs time. That's all!"

"Luke—,"

"—NO!" he interrupted fervently, "You didn't listen to me about Dad before. But you have to listen to me about this!"

She jerked to attention, feeling as if he had physically slapped her with the vehemence of his words. It was the first time that he had ever referenced the unspoken bitterness he held towards her regarding Anakin's disappearance. But Padmé didn't need verbal confirmation that the feelings existed. She had already suspected as much. Luke had spent the entirety of his young life trying to convince her that his father was alive and in danger, and she had minimized his fears. She had dismissed them. Ignored them outright. And he had been right all along. She wouldn't be surprised if Luke hated her for that, and she told him as much.

"I don't hate you, Mom," Luke insisted softly, "Everyone was telling you that he was dead, even Ben and Ahsoka. You believed because you had to…so you could survive. I understand."

"But you never believed. No matter what anyone said to the contrary, even me."

"He was there. I could still feel him," he whispered, "So, I knew it wasn't true. I know I'm not like Leia. I can't read people like she does. She can get inside of their heads in a way that I can't, but I do know that if you push Dad about this…if you open this door, we won't be able to close it. Not ever."

She trembled at the warning because it didn't seem like the product of childish fears right then, but an otherworldly portent spurned from ancient wisdom that was far beyond her comprehension. It was Luke's absolute certainty that chilled her. The fear that she had been wrestling to keep at bay for the past week threatened to overwhelm her entirely.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, Luke," she whispered, the sheer helplessness she felt evident in every word, "We can't go on pretending nothing is wrong."

"Mom, it's not pretending. Dad loves us. We love him. We're a family. As long as we stay together, nothing bad will happen. I know it. You have to listen to me this time. Please…"

Padmé was torn between her heart and her head. Luke sounded so much like his father then, so desperate and vulnerable in his need to control everything, that the thought of refusing him caused her physical pain. The reasoning part of her could not imagine how she or her children or Anakin, for that matter, could be served by allowing secrets to fester between them. Her instincts cried out to her to confront Anakin with what she had learned and to navigate the fallout afterwards. But as she stared into her son's wide, beseeching eyes she was reluctant to voice that conviction aloud, particularly because Luke seemed so adamant that doing so would be a mistake.

She had failed to listen to him once before, and that lack of insight had cost their family an entire decade together. For that reason alone, she was reluctant to go against him now. More than once since Anakin's return, she had wondered how things might have turned out differently if she had listened to Luke all those years ago. She might have spared them the pain that they were enduring now. She didn't want to make that same mistake again. After all that had happened, she couldn't afford to negate her son's insistence a second time.

After a few beats of silent indecision, Padmé shuddered out a despondent breath. "I don't like it, but I will do as you ask. I won't confront your father about this. For now, at least. But he's going to ask questions, Luke, especially with Leia deliberately avoiding him. What am I supposed to tell him?"

"I'll talk to her. Once she realizes Dad isn't a threat, she'll come around. She always does."

Leia felt her father's presence long before he materialized at the threshold of the spacious dining room to watch her with forlorn eyes. She could feel him observing her with quiet intensity as she meticulously filled her picnic basket with fruit and various breads and cheeses. She made a deliberate point of ignoring him, secretly hoping that he would eventually retreat as had become his custom when she didn't readily acknowledge him.

But, to her everlasting aggravation, he was undeterred by her silence this time. Instead, he tentatively began to close the distance between them until he stood less than six feet away from her. With each step he took, Leia's back gradually stiffened. She tried to paint the picture of complete absorption in her task, but she knew he wasn't fooled. He was fully aware that she was ignoring him, but she suspected that he was going to force a conversation with her regardless.

She almost groaned aloud when he did just that, observing in what he meant to be a light and casual tone, "Is that for your new friend?" Leia glanced at him sharply, the unspoken question of how he could have possibly known that lurking in the depths of her guarded brown eyes. Anakin discerned the reason for her mistrust without her needing to say a word. "Your mother mentioned it to me. That's how I know."

Leia regarded him speculatively, as if trying to decide whether she should take him at his word or not before finally glancing away and mumbling her confirmation. "Yes. This is for my friend."

"That's a lot of food for only two people. Are you meeting with a group?"

"No. It's just us," Leia replied brusquely, "We're going to spend the entire day together."

"Oh?" he said, "It seems that you're growing very close with this friend."

"She's older," she explained, suddenly feeling compelled to justify her actions to him, though she hardly understood why, "She has no family here. I don't like for her to be alone."

"You have a very kind heart," Anakin commended, "That's a very good thing, but I wish that we could have more time together. I feel as if I haven't seen your face in days."

He wasn't exaggerating either. Since becoming acquainted with Abeloth, Leia had developed an almost obsessive need to be close to the old woman. Never in her life had she ever grown so strongly attached to anyone in such a short period of time. It was as if she had somehow become tethered to her new friend by an invisible string, and now she felt compelled to follow her wherever she went. At night, when she tried to sleep, she dreamed of a dark place filled with shadows and mist and she could hear Abeloth calling to her. What she didn't know was if Abeloth was calling for help…or inviting her to join.

She couldn't make sense of the dreams, and she was hesitant to question Abeloth about them. The woman had been nothing except kind to her since the moment they met, and she had asked for nothing from Leia in return. Leia didn't want to repay her benevolence with suspicion, especially when she had done nothing to deserve it…not like her lying father! If anything, Abeloth had proved to be her anchor these past weeks, the only person to keep her from spiraling into loneliness and despair. Abeloth was her friend and defender.

Gradually, the mysterious, old woman had transitioned from compassionate stranger, to trusted confidante to wise mentor all in a matter of days. Leia could only attribute their strange bond to the Force. Abeloth was uniquely attuned to the Force and incredibly knowledgeable. She knew more than Ben, more than Master Yoda even! And she had already taught Leia to tap into the Force in ways that she had never dreamed. Leia jealously guarded the bond they shared. She wouldn't allow anyone to threaten it.

Leia shrugged in response to Anakin's statement and secured the latch on the wicker picnic basket, careful to appear indifferent when she said, "Don't worry about me. I'm sure Mom and Luke are keeping you busy."

Despite her deceptively relaxed tone, Anakin could sense her rolling tension and the rage that she kept so carefully restrained. It created a tangible aura all around her, buzzing like an electric halo that threatened to shock anyone who dared to get too close. Rather than maintaining his distance, however, Anakin only became more determined to penetrate his daughter's protective exterior. He craned a cautious look down at her so that Leia had little choice but to meet his eyes. He was struck by how brightly they burned as she glared at him.

"I'm not too busy for you," he whispered sincerely, "I'd like to spend time with you too, Leia."

Looking into her father's earnest blue eyes, Leia felt that same, inevitable pull that she always did, an inherent need to accept his love and be enveloped by it. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to love him. But she could practically hear Abeloth warning her that such a thing would be folly. Her father would most certainly use her love for him against her. She would be foolish to leave herself vulnerable to him. She had to maintain her distance.

She glanced away with a deep scowl, infuriated with herself that she had even momentarily entertained the idea of softening at all. "I can't stay. She's expecting me soon."

"Do you meet her every day around this time?"

Leia surveyed him with wary eyes. "I meet her whenever I can. I like spending time with her."

"Perhaps you can invite her here for a late meal then?" Anakin suggested gently, "It's clear that you've grown very fond of her. I should like to meet this person you hold in such high regard."

Her eyes turned cold. "Why? So, you can steal her away from me too?"

As soon as the words flew past her lips, Leia instantly wished she could call them back. Not because she regretted saying them and not because they weren't a reflection of her true feelings either. She meant what she said utterly. But she cursed herself for speaking the truth into existence because she knew by doing so, she had opened the door to a conversation with her father that she absolutely did not want to have.

He wasn't going to let it go. Even now, he was staring at her with a wounded expression, reminiscent of the way her brother often looked when she said something hurtful to him. It was a stark reminder that this man, for all her resentment and anger towards him, was her father. Her blood. And she was hurting him. The guilt that realization manifested churned in her belly like acid. She felt sick with it.

"Is that how you really feel, Leia?" he asked her softly, "Is that why you're so angry with me now?" When she stubbornly refused to answer, he pressed further. "I'm not trying to take them away from you," he told her, "All I want is to be close to you."

Leia could feel him scratching gently at the edge of her protective shields and she mentally recoiled immediately, determined to keep herself invulnerable. Firmly seated in her anger, she hoisted the basket onto her shoulder and looked away from him, her lips compressed tightly against the tears that burned in her throat. "I'm going to be late," she mumbled gruffly, "I have to go."

"What changed between us?" Anakin asked when she turned to walk away, "I thought you and I were becoming friends. When did you decide that you couldn't trust me? Why are you keeping yourself closed off?"

She twisted a dark look at him over her shoulder, her words implacable and frosty when she countered, "Why are you?" Anakin straightened with a sharp intake of breath, staring at her as if he found her unrecognizable in that moment. "I'm not the only one who keeps secrets." While he was still reeling from that bold pronouncement, Leia said, "Please tell my mother that I will be back before dark."

Thankfully, he didn't try to stop her after that or force further conversation because, if he had, Leia was sure she would have lost the battle against her tears. She hated how weak and guilty he made her feel, especially because she knew her suspicions about him were correct. He was lying to them all! And not about a small thing either. Leia could feel the echoes of his fear and dread. Whatever he was hiding could potentially devastate her entire family. He was putting them all in danger! He had already left them ravaged once. She couldn't just stand aside and watch as he did more damage. If her mother and brother would not save themselves, then she would do it.

But convincing them that Anakin Skywalker couldn't be trusted would not be an easy feat. He was cunning and careful. Even her own feelings towards him were muddled and plagued by doubts. He felt so sincere and genuine, and she couldn't deny that there was a part of herself that needed to be loved by him. It would be so easy to trust, to listen to her brother and ignore her instincts, to allow herself to be lulled by how safe and protected her father made her feel.

Maybe his secrets didn't have to matter after all. Maybe it was none of her business, and she should leave well enough alone just as Luke had asked her. Leia's steps faltered and slowed as she considered it, and she battled with the inherent urge to run back to her father and accept his offer.

She was wrestling with the impulse when she encountered Abeloth at their usual meeting spot on the beach. The old woman was perched on a large boulder amid a rocky outcropping that jutted up from the heavy, compacted sand, patiently awaiting Leia's arrival. She shifted to her feet when Leia spotted her and began making her loping approach.

"You look troubled, child," Abeloth noted as Leia set down the picnic basket with a disgruntled scowl.

"I was held up by my father," Leia explained, "That's why I'm late."

"Did he try to forbid you from seeing me?"

Leia shook her head. "He didn't want to stop me. He says he wants to meet you."

"I see."

"And he said that he wants us to be friends."

"How does that make you feel?" Abeloth asked.

When Leia opened her mouth to respond, she realized at the last second that she did not have a ready answer. Her feelings about her father were not clearly defined at all. One moment, she firmly believed that she couldn't trust him at all, and sensed he was a threat to her and her family. She felt it so strongly that she was almost crazed with the conviction. And the next, all she really wanted was to hug him and never let go. She didn't understand herself at all.

"Why do I feel this way?" she lamented mournfully, "I'm so confused."

"What you feel is natural," Abeloth told her, "It makes sense that you would be drawn to him. He is your father. But you cannot ignore your instincts. What do they tell you?"

"He's a liar," Leia whispered.

That was the crux of it. She didn't doubt that her father was misleading her family profoundly. He was deliberately hiding the truth. And while she had often been guilty of the same thing herself, Leia also recognized that the many times that she had lied to her mother was because she knew the truth would disappoint Padmé or anger her. Leia imagined that her father was lying for similar reasons, and that made her uneasy.

At the same time, he radiated such sincerity when he claimed to love her and when he offered to be her friend. That felt genuine and real. His yearning to be close to her was not something he tried to conceal from her at all. Anakin Skywalker was driven by his need to make up for the time he had lost, to mold them into the family that they should have been from the beginning. Her mother and brother were only too eager to resume that previous path while Leia was a bit more sluggish in her acceptance.

She understood her father's desperation to reclaim the past he had lost, but she was simultaneously frustrated because he didn't seem to recognize that his family had not become encapsulated in time following his disappearance. Life had continued without him! Instead of trying to recreate his past, Leia wished that he would concentrate more on how he fit into her present.

Unfortunately, she was the only one who seemed to have a preoccupation with that need. Instead of expecting Anakin Skywalker to find a place for himself in her space, the expectation seemed to be that she find a place in his. He wasn't expected to give anything while she was expected to give everything. Leia couldn't possibly voice those frustrations to her family and so, she shared her conflict with Abeloth who listened patiently while she vented.

"I must be making a very poor impression on you," she sighed mournfully when she was done, "I wouldn't be surprised if you thought I was the most ungrateful child in the galaxy."

"Why would I find you ungrateful?"

Leia sank down on a nearby boulder, her shoulders stooped with dejection. "Because I have my father back and, instead of being happy, all I can do is complain."

"I've told you before that you should never apologize for what you feel," Abeloth admonished her, "There is no shame in emotion, Leia."

"If I could know his secrets, then I could warn them all," she mumbled to herself, "Then they would understand that I'm not trying to make trouble! I'm trying to protect them!"

"A prophet is never appreciated in her own household," Abeloth quoted softly, "You do everything within your power to keep them safe, and they despise you for it."

"I don't know what to do."

"What if there was a way for you to know his secrets? To expose him?"

"I've tried! He's too strong for me. He won't let me see him, not like he did that first time when Luke and I found him."

"What if I could show you another way?"

"What way?" Leia asked warily.

"It is a technique taught by the Aing-Tii monks. To use it effectively, a Force user must be very skilled and very disciplined. I am not certain you are ready."

"But I am ready!" Leia insisted, "I'm a fast learner! You know that!"

"You are young and impulsive," Abeloth tsked.

"I can be a good student," Leia vowed, "I promise!"

"But are you ready to learn everything I have to teach you, my child?"

"Yes," Leia whispered, "Show me."

Nodding her agreement, Abeloth straightened and extended her hand to Leia. "Come with me. To learn this technique requires complete concentration, and we cannot do that here in the open."

Leia stared down at her outstretched hand and, for the briefest second, felt a thrill of cold fear. Her vision blurred and wavered and the gnarled, bony fingers before her stretched and curled into winding, ghostly tentacles that began to encircle her. She gasped in horror, and took an anxious step backwards, and her eyes ricocheting to Abeloth's benevolent, wrinkled face in abject horror.

"You must trust me fully, Leia," she cajoled in a soothing whisper, "Take my hand, child."

Panting heavily, Leia darted another glance back to her hand. The tentacles were gone. Only spotted, thin, knobby fingers remained. The hand of a sweet, old woman. A human hand. Leia breathed a small sigh of relief and took hold of Abeloth's hand.

"I trust you," she said.

"Good," Abeloth replied with a satisfied smile, "Let us begin."