Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. Shocker.
"A monster that refused, sometimes, to behave like a monster. When a monster stopped behaving like a monster, did it stop being a monster? Did it become something else?" Graceling by Kristin Cashore
Her home was destroyed.
Princess Leia Organa had just watched her home world be blasted into a billion different, claiming twice as many life forms.
All her friends.
Leia pressed her lips together in a hard line, determined not to fall apart in front of the enemy, as she thought of father. He was her mentor. She had loved him most out of everyone in the galaxy. And now he was dead.
And it seemed she was not far behind. At this very moment she was being led back to her cell, by none other than Darth Vader and a gaggle of stormtroopers. There, she was to await execution.
She resolutely was trying not to think of her father, lest to have an emotional breakdown in front of the second in command of the empire. An unbidden memory bubbled to the surface.
Leia was sitting contently in her father's study. She had just been elected youngest Imperial Senator. There had been celebrations all day long. She was tried, but her father had asked to see her before she turned in for the night. He father walked into the study and smiled at her.
"Hello my dear"
"Hi Dad" she yawned, and then smiled.
She nodded. He sat down next to her and clasped her hand in his.
"You know I am very proud of you" he said, studying her hand "And your mother would be as well."
She smiled sadly at the mention of Breha Organa, the mother who had died when Leia was nearly three. She had no memory of her.
"And so would your birth mother."
Leia's whole body straitened up; her drowsiness a thing of the past. Bail never mentioned her birth parents, even after she begged for information. As much as she loved her father, she wanted to know where she came from. She knew little other than that her parents were dead, and it was far too dangerous to talk about them.
"Yes, she dabbled in politics herself."
Her heart beat faster. "Really? What did she do?"
Her father looked down again. "Darling, I can't tell you mu-"
"No!" She stood up angrily. "No, no Father. Don't finish that sentence. You can't make a comment like that and not tell me a thing about her! When will I be old enough to learn who my parents are?"
Bail stood up as well. "Leia-"
"Do you think if I learn about them, I'll stop loving you? Because, Father, I swear-"
"Leia," he said, more forceful, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I will never doubt your love for me. But if anyone, especially, in the empire, found out about your biological parents, you will be in grave danger."
"Do you not trust me?" she asked in a hurt voice.
"Of course I trust you. But Darth Vader has…well, he has a way of reading people. I don't want to take a chance my dear."
"Then why mention her?"
He sighed. "It pains me to do so. Leia, this is very serious. If you are every faced with death, and Darth Vader, you must tell him your mother's name. I fear it'll be too late for any intervention, but it would be your last hope."
She frowned, brows furrowing, not understanding. "But you said-"
"I know it doesn't make sense. Just trust me, Leia. Also promise me that you won't go looking for information until Vader is dead."
She looked up solemnly. "I promise Father. What was her name?"
The door to her cell slid open.
"Wait" she muttered, unintelligently. She turned around to face Darth Vader.
"Good Bye, Princess" he said in his deep baritone. His gloved hand went to enter the code to close and lock her cell door.
"Padmé Naberrie was my mother!" she blurted out.
The Dark Lord froze. Stormtroopers looked from one to the other, confused.
"Leave us" said Darth Vader. Obediently, the stormtroopers filed out like little white lemmings.
Vader stepped into her cell and Leia barely controlled a shiver, remembering all too well the early torture this man, who was rumored to be more machine that human, put her through.
"What" he said, dangerously low, stepping closer to her still, "did you say?"
She raised her chin and balled her fists at her side.
"My mother was Padmé Naberrie."
"My mother was Padmé Naberrie."
It was not possible.
The child…the child and its mother were dead. He killed them. He killed his angel.
"Why are you telling me this?" he thundered. She flinched, but her outward appearance remained calm. Ever the diplomat.
"My father told me to tell you if I was about to die."
Come away with me. Help me raise our child. Leave everything else behind while we still can.
"Your father?" he said, mind whirling.
"My adoptive father, Bail Organa."
He took the princess' face between his thumb and forefinger, examining her face. He reached into the force, remembering the child's force signature.
"Look at me" he growled. The princess was reluctant, but obliged.
He felt it, muted at first, but pushing further it became more familiar.
Had the child been unconsciously hiding it all these years? She was strong in the force, but untrained.
She had his Angel's coloring and her short stature; her eyes; her hair; her passion.
How had he not seen this before?
"Why does it matter who my mother was?" she asked angrily, she said ripping her face from his grip, stumbling back. "You tortured me in every physical and mental way. You just destroyed my homeworld, and killed all my loved ones. Why does she matter?"
But he barely heard her. If his child, their child, was alive, it would mean…
Where is Padmé? Is she safe, is she all right?
I'm afraid she died. ... It seems in your anger, you killed her.
I couldn't have! She was alive! I felt her! She was alive! It's impossible! No!
… he was lied to. His master had lied to him for nearly two decades. He had lived with the guilt of killing his Padmé and their child for so long. But, she had lived! She had to have in order to for her deliver! He had not killed her. He had not killed his Angel.
"Where is she? Where is your mother?" he asked, stopping the girl.
His battered and beaten heart fell.
"Why does it matter to you?" she spat again angrily and confused.
His child. While Padmé dominated her features he was able to see his cheekbones; his lips; his anger.
His child: who he had tortured. He had her injected with a powerful mind-alternating hallucinogen that made believe she was in the most excruciating pain. He made her watch as her home was destroyed.
His child: the rebel.
His child: who was about to die.
Well, not if he had anything to say about it. His master must never find out.
"Your mother was very dear to me." he said "I will expand on the subject when I return."
"Wait!" she called out, but the door was already closing behind him.
Leia lay on her cold metal cot thinking about the last few hours. Her world was destroyed, her family was dead, and she used her father's last ditch attempt to save her life.
It didn't feel real.
She did not understand how Vader could have fit in with her mother. Her mother who even Lord Vader knew more about then she did. He was a monster.
Your mother was very dear to me.
She didn't know what to make of it. She desperately wished she could talk to her father.
Father, my poor Father. Why didn't you ever tell me about my mother?
Her cell door opened and a stormtroopers stood in the door, not moving. She lifted her body up and raised her eyebrows.
"Aren't you a little short to be a storm trooper?"
He seemed bewildered for a moment. "What? Oh, the uniform." he said, taking of the helmet. A sandy haired, blue eye boy was underneath. "I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you."
Darth Vader looked out on the bridge of The Executor. The destruction of the Death Star took placed months ago and was something his Master was not pleased with. But rather than concentrate on his masters anger he thought of his children.
There was no other explanation of the pilot who destroyed the Death Stars force signature. He nearly locked onto this pilots X wing before his signature stunned him. It was very similar to Leia's, but still very different. It was stronger, due to the fact of him being slightly trained.
Twins. A son and a daughter; entirely grown up, and rebels to boot. It seemed him and Padmé were both correct in the sex of their baby. Vader shook his head, frowning beneath the mask.
The boy must have been the boy Kenobi had brought with him when rescuing his daughter. Anger and resentment bubbled up at the thought of his former master. If the boy was connected to Kenobi, why hadn't he been trained since birth?
"Sir," said a frightened Captain. Vader turned to stare at him. The Captain audibly gulped and handed him a datapad. "the report on the rebel who destroyed the Death Star, my lord."
Vader snatched it from him, and the Captain scampered away. He flicked it on and scrolled through the information.
Name: Luke Skywalker
Father: Anakin Skywalker- dead
Mother: Unknown- dead
Member of Red Squadron
At thebottom of the page was a picture of the boy. He was leaning out of his X wing, face turned as if someone had just called his name. He had shaggy dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
My eyes thought Vader. As Leia had Padmé's coloring, Luke (son, his son!) had his own. He had his chin and jaw as well as his nose. However, he unmistakable had his mother's mouth and small build.
While his Master would not know Leia was his daughter he would most certainly know that Luke was his son. The name alone would give him away. Why was he given his last name while Leia was not? He had so many unanswered questions regarding his children. He needed to find them. Vader looked back out the window of the bridge. Vader knew that he could not kill his master on his own, but perhaps with the help of his son or daughter…
He needed to find his children, and before his master did.
A/N : Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks!