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Princess Leia Organa prided herself on being collected in public places. At just eighteen she had reigned her emotions in just enough that she never let them leak out. Not while lying directly to Tarkin’s foul face. Never allowing her voice to waver while staring down the barrel of blasters. And when Vader stormed her ship massacring her crew she did not flinch when his men escorted her away, despite having to step over the dead. As the guards handed her off to droids to “prepare” her for Vader’s interrogation she did not care. Not when she was stripped and washed down like some animal that threw itself in the mud. Not when the uncaring droid placed her in starchy prisoner garb.
However, now in the bowels of the ship, all the collective haughty attitude fell away to rage and desperation.
The uncaring droid had switched out shears with the full intent of shaving her luscious long brown waves completely off. She had protested and yelled when they undid her duel buns, it was a catastrophic slight against the heir to Alderaan and therefore to all Alderaan. In their culture the act of grooming hair was reserved for only the closest of loved ones. She had a droid at home that did her hair but Leia adored the droid that had accompanied her since she was a baby. But, to have an Imperial droid have the audacity to take apart her careful hairstyle was another matter. At least she could comfort herself that no sentient being saw her so exposed. But, now it wanted to shave her hair which was the biggest offense, she would not endure such humiliation.
That is when her carefully built composure eroded. Her protests became curses as she yelled at the unflinching droid. The guards hadn’t bothered to bind her after all; she was only a petite teenager who had been cooperative; until now. As the droid neared she dodged out of it’s way. It turned around plunging towards her once more, she sidestepped away. Their movements would have been comical if it weren’t so dangerous. On they danced the droid chasing Leia, her hair swinging freely barely missing being cut.
As Leia felt herself begin to tire the locked blast doors unexpectedly swooshed open revealing Vader. At once the droid froze, seeming to await orders from it’s commander. Leia held the metal chair she had picked up along the way to use as a shield and defend herself with unmoving. Part of her wanted to take the chance to throw it at the droid or even better yet, at Vader. Cause enough of a distraction as to allow her to escape.
But, instead the only thing that seemed to move was Vader’s chest, the forced breathing from the contraption he was built into. The only sound was that of his respirator filling the room. Leia found she was holding her own breathing in an anticipation. She was unsure why though, she knew Vader had arrived, knew he would torture her. Knew all that before but now a growing unease filled her. She felt like the galaxy had shifted somehow in this very moment and she didn’t know why.
She forced in a breath and all at once everything began to move once more. Seemingly out of it’s own will the chair began to move out of her hands until it was gently placed on the ground in the middle of the room. As it moved and she stared at it in shock while Vader stepped into the room powering down the droid.
Her gaze met his and for one second she felt like she could peer into the mask and see trepidation in him but, that soon was gone as he gestured to the chair in a way that could only mean sit. She locked her jaw and glared at him in response. She would not be commanded.
“Please, your majesty let me try to remedy the dishonor done to you today” again he gestured towards the chair, at once it clicked in her mind. The vocoder didn’t allow him to sound anything but a night terror. But, she knew he was being honest.
“No, the damage is done. I will not let you further humiliate me by tainting such an honor” Leia tilted her chin up at him, defiantly daring him to contradict her.
“As you wish” she could have sworn he dipped in almost a casual bow. He turned the cape covering what he was doing. When he turned to face her again he opened his large palm to reveal the hair pins and hair ties that had been in her head to construct her twin buns.
Tentatively she reached and grabbed them slowly, part of her wondering if he would snap his hand shut like a trap. But he didn't; she slid the hair ties onto her wrists and attached the hair pins onto the last one she would use.
The walls of the room were polished black metal so she stepped towards it to be able to use it to see her reflection. Vader stood at her shoulder watching her, his mask unmoving. She half expected to catch an expression on it from the corner of her eye. To see the mask twist and turn into a smile or a frown. She knew it wouldn’t occur but still; she felt like she could read his mood like if he were wearing it plainly on his mask.
Sighing, she began to comb her long thick hair with her fingers in order to create the center part.
Leia gritted her teeth in sheer frustration, she had half a mind to rip the shears out of the droid and hack away at her own hair. She felt absolutely betrayed and angry at her own hair. Her arms ached from trying again and again to style her hair. She had given up on her original buns and even tried easier styles, but those didn’t work. So she resorted to a simple braid. But, she couldn't even do that. The third try at the braid and there were pieces falling out and the strands thicker than the other.
From her peripheral vision she noticed Vader shift his stance foot to foot. Anger rose in her. She blamed this all on him if he hadn’t ordered that stupid droid to prep her, if he wasn’t just standing there! She whirled around glaring him down “Oh, I’m sorry if you’re tiring of me” she sneered “If you would give me some privacy I would be able to accomplish this much easier and we could get going with the torture” she wasn’t going to admit how much his presence unnerved her but she would make it well known her distaste for it “I normally don’t have an audience, especially one that I would never willingly allow to see such an intimate moment reserved only for loved ones!”
At her last remark he stepped back as though she had grabbed his blasted saber and ran him through with it. He recovered from the imaginary blow in an instance and he spoke at last. There would never be a change in his vocoder setting but Leia imagined his voice soft and soothing like he was trying to approach a rabid loth cat “Surely, your highness you can’t find me such an abomination. After all you should understand more than most that duty and how one must follow orders from their superiors” He slowly approached her from the far end, he reached the middle where the chair was and took it with him on his way closer to her. Until the chair barely grazed the back of her knees, he stopped waiting for her.
Leia would not admit it but she knew she needed the help. Worse than Vader doing her hair would be Vader continually seeing it down, or deciding to torture her with it loose or even just giving up entirely and reactivating the droid to sheer it off. So instead she silently sat down on the chair, her face never leaving the reflection of herself. She refused to look at Vader.
The Princess would have never thought to use the words Vader and gentle together, but in that moment she would have. Despite his large mechanical gloved hands he gently carded his finger through her hair trying to comb it, making sure to start at the bottom then move to the top so to untangle in the most painless way. Still Leia refused to look at him only going by the sensation of movement.
If she had glanced down at Vader’s hands she would have noticed how they stilled transfixed at her hair. How he took a lock between his fingers despite his prosthetic's not allowing him to feel texture, he still examined it like he could, pretended that he could.
“Your ends are very dry, would you allow me to cut them for you?” at this audacity she turned to look at him aghast but before she could unleash a verbal lashing he plowed on “If the ends are not trimmed it will remain dead and your hair will not grow any longer. Are Alderanians not prideful in having such long hair to enable them their ludicrous hair styles?”
She turned back and gave only a huff in agreement, refusing to give any more insight. She needed to reign herself in once more and collect her emotions. She was never this expressive when faced with any other Imperial. She’d take this moment as Vader trimmed the ends to collect herself. Like how her Papa had taught her she closed her eyes and focused on evening out her breathing.
At least that was her plan as she felt the night terror take a couple steps back. She vaguely assumed he was going to program the droid to do it. Instead once he was away she felt the same invisible hand that had moved the chair earlier arise and part her hair into sections whilst it floated in the air. Still she refused to open her eyes, refused to show anything besides indifference. And again Vader changed her plans. Once the snap, hiss, and hum of his saber activated her eyes flew open in shock. She thought she had more time until she was executed, though he’d at least tried to make the last few moments of her life useful for the Empire. Vader never granted mercy.
The red blade came down and she did not flinch at this, no she refused again, she would not cower at her death, would not allow him the pleasure. And she was grateful she hadn't because a mere second later she wanted to laugh at herself. In a quick moment Vader had slashed through the offensive ends with his saber. At this she allowed shock to show.
“The heat of the blade allows for a better cut. But most importantly it seals the new ends allowing for hair to grow back healthier than before” Now at that the Princess allowed herself to out right gawk at him, anyone with a single brain cell would have. That was completely unexpected. “Now your highness may we get back to styling your hair?
Loathed to ever admit it but under Vader’s gentle hands combined with her efforts to calm herself by closing her eyes, evening out her breath, and trying to find her center had actually only resulted in her dozing off. Only to be awakened by his light touch to her shoulder. And for another time that day he had startled her, not by being awoken but to the sight she awoke to. Vader was holding the shining casing of the droid so as to reflect the image of the hairstyle back to her allowing her to see the full extent of his work.
In her reflection she saw what he had done to her hair, and her mouth fell open in shock.
Her hair was done in intricate braids. It looked simple and elegant. There was a crown of braids wrapping around her head leading to a cornucopia made of braids in the middle of her skull from there two long braided loops and a rounder shorter loop emerged at the bottom of the nest of braids. There was a thin sectioning of her hair still loose.
Vader broke her attention once more “You look so much like your mother” she felt like she could hear the reverie in his masked voice. His heavy hand resting, more like hovering just above the top of her head.
She scoffed at his display “Surely, you know better than to deliver such a weak compliment. Everyone knows I am adopted, there’s no genes shared with my mother that would make us look alike” for good measure Leia dramatically rolled her eyes.
Shavit, she internally winced it looked like she had failed her calming exercises.
The black leather hand that had floated above settled now heavily on her head as a treasure hunter to clutch their prized possession to them. When he next spoke she imagined him grounding out every word dripping it in contempt, the room growing colder. This was the Vader she knew of “I am speaking of your real mother”.
Leia didn’t waste any time in rebuffing him. She shot up, whirling to face him “Breha Organa is my real mother and Bail Organa is my real father!” Her face became reddened in anger and passion “They raised me to want for nothing with all the love and care anyone could want. But, that is something a monster like you would never understand!” Her finger raised wagging like she was nagging a child. She was sick of people outside of Alderaan viewing them as lesser parents, a placeholder until she was old enough to realize about her birth parents. But, anyone on Alderaan knew that adoptive families were as valued as blood, maybe even more because you chose to forge them.
Vader's hands dropped to his side, his fist clenching until she heard the crack of the shiny durasteel behind her. He spoke once more poison covering every word “I. AM. YOUR. FATHER.”
Leia couldn’t contain her reaction and she began to laugh the type of laughter one clutched their stomach from the strength of it. The sheer ridiculousness of it all, she must have hit her head in the attack and now this was the hallucination of a coma victim.
That seemed to freeze Vader in place. She could feel the coldness in the room wash away and fill with confusion. A somber thought began to rise in her as she stood straighter composing herself “The woman you referred to earlier, was she subject to some horrific experiment? Did she even have a say? Surely, no woman would willingly experiment with a creature more droid than man” Her tone started soft and questioning and turned into sharp acquisitory knives that cut into Vader.
He stepped back again like he had been lashed. This time when he spoke it was so fragile she felt like if she reached out and touched him he would simply crumble “No! I would never.” He took a step towards her seemingly garnering conviction “It was before I arose as Darth Vader, I was a different person, I was more man than droid” He reached out for her clutching her pointing hand into his two massive hands like a drowning man clutching a flotation device. “Believe me Leia you were born of the truest of love and devotion.” Now he fell to his knees looking up at her, she swore she could see him pleading. “I tried to save her life, but I failed. I thought her dead as well as our baby she carried. That failure left me only this shell that I inhabit. Please, forgive me for my failings.”
With her other hand she placed it atop his, the monster every child feared was now submitting to her with the most heartbreaking of all confessions. She was still so absurdly angry at him at all he stood for. But, her parents had taught her sympathy. After all, where would she be if she had lost the ones she loved?
She might never forgive and would never love him like her parents. But, that did not mean she couldn’t at least begin the process of mending their lives.
“Rise Lord Vader. I do not have the right to forgive you for all you’ve done. But, I can help you earn that forgiveness from those you have harmed.” She paused taking in one last breath, stealing her courage. She was about to reveal such sensitive hard earned information, she wouldn’t ever have done it. But, she sensed in her soul Vader would not betray her. His devotion to her biological mother ran too deep and he seemed desperate for her approval now. “Starting with the Death Star plans.”