AUTHOR'S NOTE: This piece has quite unintentionally become something of a meditation on filial piety, a Roman virtue on the triumph of family over all but one's duty to the state (civitas). Vader is certainly no one's ideal patriarch (paterfamilias), but, y'know, one does one's best. If you go back and re-read this piece, you'll see many Easter eggs, especially for those who are interested in the expanded Star Wars universe.

A few comments I've gotten that I want to address below:

Canonically, Vader is very nearly blind, but, as with many things, blindness is a spectrum, and the way that I intend him to be is actually extremely near-sighted, which is how I've written this piece.

With regards to how Vader knows what Padmé looked like before she died if you go by the comics, he found a holo-recording of her death, and, even if you don't, he certainly had visions of her death. You could also interpret his comment as him picturing her face as he last saw her on Mustafar.

Leia did not have much conscious memory of how much time had passed since her father's silhouette had retreated from her bedside. Where he was, she could not tell, but he was still alive. That much she presumed to know. Though she could not sense individual emotions, a latent sense of protectiveness continued to embrace her, soothing the fire raging in her body.

The sound of heavy artillery resounded all around them, a sound Leia recognized as belonging to a particularly outdated air defense system.

"What…is going on?" Leia asked, reaching for twi'lek's sleeve. The woman, whose name she had learned was Tylaa, shushed her, offering her a spoonful of ice chips instead.

"We can worry about that in a moment; for now, Madame Vice-Chancellor, I want you to focus on pushing. I may need to get you out of here soon, and if I do, I'd rather do it after I've made sure all three of you are alright."

Vader—no—"Anakin" had been right. Luke was nearby. She could feel his worry layered over the resigned calm of their father. As the inferno in her muscles reached its zenith, Leia felt Anakin's force signature briefly brushing over hers, encouraging and caring. Luke's also responded, only his was confused and alarmed.

Ah, she thought, Luke must not have known.

Though the laboring woman bore her pains in a daze of endurance, she still tensed as she listened to the distant scream of TIE fighters blitzing through the air and the hum of what might have been an X-Wing. It was nothing but sheer cacophony as it seemed a great air battle was taking place in the skies above.

Despite the conflict raging beyond the walls of the operating theater, the medic continued to wet her brow with cooling packs, murmuring words of encouragement which, though well-meaning, did little to ease Leia's anxieties, at least when compared to the distant blanket of her father's presence. Leia could picture the explosions in perfect blazing clarity, her mind transposing them with the blazes of fire igniting her sinews, painting pictures of pandemonium within her mindscape.

Then, everything went white with pain. Someone was screaming, and after a moment, Leia realized it must have been her.

Several moments later, she heard a cry, a sharp and healthy shriek,

"You have a daughter, Madam Vice-Chancellor!" The twi'lek declared, vigorously rubbing the baby before laying her on her mother's chest. Leia cradled the wailing infant to her breast, hot tears of relief and exertion splashing down her cheeks and onto the baby's perfect face. A few moments later, Leia gave another guttural cry and, with a rush, felt as the second child entered the world, giving out his own shrieks and hollers. "And you also have a son!" Tylaa exclaimed, giving Leia's boy a similar treatment.

Oh, how Leia wished Han were here to hold his two beautiful children!

Unfortunately, the Princess did not get a chance to savor the moment of their birth. Without warning, the comm system crackled to life and a voice she did not recognize boomed throughout the operating theater. The words were spoken in Rylothian and beyond her comprehension. Even so, Leia did not need to speak the language to see Tylaa's face instantly shift from exuberant to deathly serious.

"What is it?" Leia asked as the medic finished checking and tending to the wailing twins. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

"We are going to have to evacuate the facility."

At that moment, the walls of the building began to rattle with the pinging of blaster fire, almost like raindrops on a tin roof. On reflex, Leia reached for Vader—Anakin! Her mind corrected—his presence was still there, but it had become unresponsive. In contrast, Luke's presence was drawing closer, reaching out to her with a feverish sense of worry, to which she tried to reply with assurances and thoughts of the newborns in her arms. In response, his mind rang with understanding.

I'm almost there, Leia. Hold tight. I'm coming to get you.

It seemed they were now subject to a ground siege. The sudden look of fright on the twi'lek's face and the thunder of regimented footsteps from beyond the doors were all the evidence the Princess needed to confirm that fact.

As the medic strapped her into the hospital gurney for evacuation, the achingly familiar shape of her brother burst into the room.

"Leia, thank the Force, you're alright!" He exclaimed, his blond air stuck to the sweat of his forehead as he rushed past the confused twi'lek, his wide eyes irresistibly drawn to the delicate forms resting in his sister's arms. Despite the way the Force sang with jubilance at their being reunited, the haze of smoke wafting through the doorway cut short any thoughts of a happy reunion.

With a nod to the bewildered twi'lek and a cry of "Follow me," Luke took hold of the gurney and charged into the hallway, Tylaa trailing close behind.

The corridors beyond the operating theater were pure chaos.

Leia coughed on the smell of smoke that filled her lungs, along with the acrid scent of hot plasma. A wave of growing heat seemed to be radiating from the westernmost wing of the building. Leia clung desperately to her newborn children. Holding the wailing twins was now taking the sum of her meager energies, and she could not have lifted a blaster, much less aimed one, even if it had been at her disposal.

In the distance, Leia could hear the building creaking and groaning as the supporting walls gave way beneath the hunger of the inferno. Military and law enforcement personnel were running to and fro, opening and releasing the remaining cell doors and ordering their occupants to flee. Detainees and prisoners were sprinting for their lives, their eyes wide and glazed by the sudden freedom with which they had been gifted. All conscious thought seemed to have been consumed by the need to out-run tongues of flame licking at the facility's super-structure.

As she coughed on the acrid smoke, she reached searchingly for Anakin's presence, gasping as she was met with a feeling of heat licking at her flesh, choking, suffocating in the midst of the fiery hellstorm.

A moment later, his shields slammed shut, throwing her clear of the sensation. But it was too late. To her horror, she already knew where he was.

"Luke…!" She screamed over the din. "You have to go back!"

Our father is in there!

I know. Came the grim reply. But first, I need to get you to safety.

The rush of bodies became a blur as they burst into daylight, and she and her wailing children were handed off to a uniformed New Republic medic. When Luke disappeared from behind her, Leia did not even think to question it. As the medical personnel started her and the infants on oxygen, Leia frantically called out to her father, but, this time, it seemed he had cut himself off from her, and she felt nothing but clouded darkness.

In the midst of the flurry of personnel that buzzed around her and the twins, Leia was able to piece together that the Imperials had tried to draw out Ryloth's forces with an aerial attack while simultaneously inserting a strike team to soften the detainment facility's defenses.

Apparently, they hadn't counted on the New Republic arriving in the middle of their assault. Although the New Republic forces had managed to drive off the TIEs, the enemy strike team had already infiltrated the detainment facility and a fire had erupted in the ensuing exchange of munitions with Ryloth's forces.

The fact that volleys of hot plasma would ignite the building was not at all surprising; Ryloth was a poorer planet, its construction techniques more crude and fragile than that of the greater galaxy. What was, however, remarkable was that breathless witnesses were describing how, in the midst of the conflagration, the flames had suddenly seemed to compose themselves, their natural progression halted as if held back by some unseen force.

Stranger still, the only casualties of the flames seemed to be coming from the enemy forces, the fire's deadly energies seemingly concentrated solely around those Imperial remnants unfortunate enough to have entered the detainment center. Fantastic though it seemed, the Princess had a strong suspicion as to what, or rather who was responsible. Even so, at the moment, she could do nothing but trust that her father knew what he was doing and that, somehow, he would be okay.

The Vice-Chancellor endured for as long as she was able, giving orders and providing information as her commanders requested. However, after coasting on a high of adrenaline for so many hours, her strength finally failed her. As soon as her attendants reported that the facility had been evacuated and the last of the Imperial survivors detained, she allowed herself the luxury of drifting off into blessed unconsciousness.

~0~

It was almost a full day later when the Princess finally awoke, and her heart leapt to find Han at her side in the midst of a hastily constructed medical tent,

Although his eyes were hollow with exhaustion, his face was a mix of joy and relief as he rocked their two children, a bottle of formula dangling loosely from his fingertips. As soon as he realized she was awake, he crawled into the berth with her and the twins, sobbing as he kissed her forehead again and again, murmuring words of apology for all she had been forced to endure.

The sight of him brought tears of relief to her own eyes as she buried her face into his chest, clinging to him despite the aching in her own body. It was there in his embrace that they quietly and tearfully named their children Jaina and Jacen, Grace and Salvation.

Even as she lay in the familiar comfort of her husband's arms, the strange bond with the man who had once been called Anakin Skywalker remained a tendril in the back of her mind. Even so, it was slack and silent. Though she tried pulling on it, the cloud of his being that had held her so tenderly through her labors seemed to have evaporated.

Leia was too tired and hurt too much to ponder the matter too thoroughly. Instead, for just a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the safety of Han's embrace and the cooing of her two newborns.

Unfortunately, it was only a matter of hours before affairs of state once more intruded on their lives as a Rylothian representative was sent to provide her with a situation report. Though Han hovered beside her, Leia was forced to ruefully disentangle herself from his embrace before receiving the twi'leki messenger.

Fortunately, the Rylothian seemed to be efficient and uninterested in extended chatter. After providing her with details of their casualties—which were mercifully few, despite the detainment center being a total loss and the Imperials being all but decimated—they also expressed their "deepest sympathies" that her pilot and bodyguard seemed to have perished in the fire.

Leia just barely managed to keep the mask of her emotions in place as she expressed her gratitude for the update and dismissed the twi'lek with a note that a commendation should be given to the medic who had so faithfully attended her.

As soon as the messenger departed, Leia's thoughts began to spiral, even as Han handed her the twins, who were now crying to be fed.

Was her father dead? She wondered. Surely, she would have felt him die!

Luke had to be with him, right? That was the only logical reason why he would not have been by her side when she awoke. Though their bond buzzed with his proximity, he seemed to have his attention utterly engrossed on other matters.

As she finished giving the children their bottles, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Han clearing his throat.

"What's wrong, my love?"

The distant look in her eyes must have caught Han's attention.

"Nothing," she murmured quickly, rocking Jaina quietly in her arms after handing Jacen back to his father.

A strange look passed over Han's face as he studied her. It was a look she had seen many times, typically when he'd done something he wasn't quite supposed to.

His eyes shifted around the room as he leaned in closer to her, his lips brushing the tip of her ear as he spoke under his breath."Your old man's gonna be alright if that's what you're worried about."

Leia's eyes went wide.

"You knew?!" She hissed.

Han smirked mirthlessly. "Do I look stupid to you? 'Course I knew. You know Luke can't keep a secret from me." Leia reeled for several seconds, amazed and astonished by the saintly calm with which he seemed to have taken the news of Darth Vader's survival. As if reading her thoughts, he interjected his own explanation.

"I was a smuggler, Leia. I've transported actual cannibals. Do you really think this would scandalize me?"

After a moment, Han leaned in even closer, his voice almost inaudible.

"Do you want to see him?"

Leia froze. Did she?

Yes, she realized. Yes, she did. Before she was even aware of it, the Vice-Chancellor found herself nodding.

Wordlessly, Han got to his feet, and after having a few words with the attendant, he returned with a hover chair, into which he helped her sit. After securing the twins in Leia's arms, he took her out of the tent, past the rows of ships and personnel that had been sent to recover the abducted woman. They saluted and spoke to several soldiers and pilots as they made their way through the strange encampment until they came to the looming shadow of the Millennium Falcon. Nobody questioned them as they made their way toward the old vessel; it was, after all, almost as much a member of the family as their newborn children. The fact that the couple would want to have a quiet moment in the bosom of the familiar hold was hardly an unbelievable idea.

Leia's heart began to hammer as Han keyed in the security code and pushed her up the rampway. She wasn't sure if she was ready for this. Even so, she'd risked so much in a passionate bid just to keep him alive; it seemed a pity not to be able to witness the fruit of her efforts. For the first time in decades, the words of Obi-Wan Kenobi rang in her memories: you are passionate and forthright…these are gifts from your father.

Gifts from her father, indeed! If fate had been any less merciful, she and the twins would have died over her recklessness. She supposed that, in that way, she and her father were very alike; he'd burned not one but two regimes down in an effort to protect his family. And given recent events, Leia was no longer sure if she would not have done the same.

As the rampway closed behind them, Leia became aware of the sound of that familiar whining respirator. Injured. Distressed. Piteous. But still functional, still working. Its noise echoed inside the ship, alongside the snatches of Luke's voice, soft and caring in its tones. She was grateful that the children were sleeping, lest their cries disturb the quiet harmony of the moment. It surprised her that they hadn't yet sensed their presence, but she supposed both were otherwise preoccupied.

"You shouldn't be so reckless…" Leia heard Luke say. "Several of the air filters are melted together…what would I have told Leia if you had died pulling that stunt?"

"I imagine you …would have…told her…you had good news."

"Don't say such things, Father."

"Not all of us are…as forgiving as…you are, Luke. Her feelings are…more than justified."

In the belly of the ship, she and Han found Luke sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a makeshift cot that had been set up to accommodate their father's bulk. When they entered, the older man was curled up on his side, with his back to them. He was nude, save for a blanket that had been thrown around his waist for warmth.

The elder Skywalker's clothes, such as they remained, were piled on the floor in a blood-stained and singed puddle of fabric.

The bestial muzzle was being tinkered with in Luke's lap as the other man breathed greedily into a clear plastic oxygen mask, the metal hand clutching the mask to his face.

Her brother was so engrossed in his work that he did not seem to notice their entrance. Parts and pieces of Anakin's bionic body were strewn about, many of them melted or scorched. The cybernetics affixed to his spinal cord were torn open as if Luke were in the process of rewiring them.

To see him disassembled was as intimate as it was horrifying.

"Whatever you may think, Leia risked everything to save your life, so don't go throwing it away, again!" Luke said with frustration as he looked down, fiddling with the half-mask in his hands, "Just a few more minutes in that heat, and I wouldn't have gotten to you in time."

Their father gave no reply as he seemed to freeze, at last noticing the proximity of Leia's gentle and incessant pressure against his mental shields. Leia watched in baited fascination as the bloody mechanism visible in what remained of his spine shifted to allow him to twist toward where she and Han hovered in the doorway.

When he turned his neck to face them, Leia gasped to see the v-shaped scar that the muzzle had carved into the crevices of his mouth and lips. For a moment, they stared at one another, one seeing with natural sight, the other with the insight of the Force.

"Leia…?" The vocoder gasped with disbelief.

A range of emotions flashed nakedly on Anakin's face, the principal two being shock and shame, as he instinctively moved to cover his mangled torso with the thin ship's blanket.

At last, they seemed to break Luke's concentration as he looked up from his work with an exclamation of shock.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "You should be resting!"

Before she could speak, Han answered for her: "She wanted to see the old bastard."

The bastard in question lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. Still, his face seemed simultaneously fearful and hopeful, like an old fighting dog afraid to trust a gentle touch.

The two infants beginning to cry and fuss in her lap immediately drew his attention, and the jury-rigged respirator stuttered as he struggled to sit up to get a better look at them, his eyes full of fragile awe over the whimpering children.

Sensing his interest, the next words that left her mouth surprised even Leia herself.

"Would you like to hold them?"

Time stood still as Anakin froze. He gaped with shock, his face uncertain, questioning as his gaze flickered between the two children and the shapes of their parents. Several desperate cyclings of the oxygen mask passed before he managed to croak out a reply:

"…more than anything."

Han eyed her warily but did not dare to raise a protest. Leia knew that he wouldn't. The older man had nearly died to save his wife, and Han had already given him the sanctuary of his ship. What harm could it do?

Unprompted, Luke smiled softly at his sister as he got to his feet and helped their father into sitting position. Luke then sat down beside him on the cot, leaning the other man's weight against his side to stabilize him as Han brought Leia closer.

The Princess swallowed back her own apprehension as trembling metal limbs offered themselves to her as she extended the two fussing babies to nestle them in the crooks of his arms. To Leia's shock, they immediately settled in his embrace as if recognizing the safety brought by the old and tired presence. Several moments passed as he peered closely at the faces of the two small beings; a necessity, she supposed, since that was probably the only way he could truly see the beauty of their cherubic countenances.

"…They…have your eyes…Padmé's eyes…" Somehow, even the vocoder managed to capture the sob that followed.

And then, without warning, his whole frame began to shake.

Both Leia and Han flinched with concern as he fell forward, his face working in silent spasms beneath the oxygen mask. His shoulders, one of the few bits of natural bone left in his body, were heaving like mountains shaking in an earthquake.

"Father! Are you alright?" Luke asked, touching his bicep.

Only when he looked up, the newborns still clutched tenderly to his heart, did they realize he was sobbing silently, tearlessly.

As the bonds between them sprang to life, Leia listened in awe as the Force sang of promises old and new, of love triumphant, and the beginning of new life. Time stopped, and not even Han dared to speak a word as her father rocked the children in his bosom.

That was when she saw it. Something like a vision, a ghost that was not a ghost, translucent yet achingly clear. A painfully beautiful young man with dark brown curls, full lips, and wide, gentle eyes whose form was layered over that mangled shape that held her two children as tenderly as Leia herself.

When neither Han nor Luke reacted, it became clear that only Leia could see it. And as with many of the Force's gifts, when she blinked her eyes, it disappeared. Even still, Leia knew that she would always remember that moment. Razor-sharp in its perfect beauty. The moment, it seemed, when she had been graced with the sight of her father's naked soul.

Leia realized then that she no longer cared what Darth Vader had done or who Anakin Skywalker had been. He was her father, just as she was his daughter. In her own way, she loved him just as fiercely and stupidly as he loved her. And with that simple acceptance, Leia felt her heart grow lighter, her mother's pendant glowing with new warmth against her skin.

As they sat that day in the hold of the Millennium Falcon, for the first time, they were a family.

And, for the first time, they were at peace.

END NOTES: If you've followed this story and haven't reviewed, please do so; I'd love to know what you thought and if you have ideas for future stories. If you liked this story, please check out my profile for "Ghostly Fingertips," which is a Vader one-shot, soon-to-be a two-shot. As always, thank you for reading! If, by popular demand, an epilogue is requested, I will be happy to provide it.

I'm just pasting this quote here because I think it is relevant to Vader's arc with Leia, and I like it: "But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most." -Mark Twain