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Standing before the Council, she is defenseless. Obi-Wan must act as an impartial party. Ahsoka is on the run. The only other Jedi who would have stood beside her is gone. She is alone.
Master Windu speaks, “For the time being we can hide you off world. You will have to keep on the move – transfer from ship to ship; you should not set foot planetside until the coast is clear. After we throw the Chancellor off your trail, we will find you someplace to hide. Master Kenobi will accompany you.”
Obi-Wan makes no sign of acknowledgement.
Padmé must accept the resolution. She cannot stay; there is nowhere for her to go. It is the practical decision.
“How do you intend to conceal me from the Chancellor?”
Master Yoda answers, “Stage your death we will. Padmé Amidala will be no more.”
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Some nights, Leia prefers to be alone.
Excusing herself from the group, she makes her way to the balcony of the abandoned apartment they share. Like everything on Coruscant, it is a mixture of filth and splendor; its former glory hidden beneath a layer of grime.
It isn’t hard to envision how the planet gleamed in the days of the Old Republic. She imagines it will be that way again someday, but restoring the Republic is taking its time and Leia often feels as if nothing is accomplished at all.
The city lights obscure the sky and the stars; still, it is a comfort to know they are there, the same stars she could see from Alderaan. She misses them terribly: her planet, her home, her friends, her family.
Perhaps the realization she can’t go home again is finally catching up to her. She’s been on the run for so long, there wasn’t time to think about how she’ll never see father again, hold his hand or ask him for guidance.
It is a distance that cannot be lessened.
She hasn’t felt this way since mother died. Now the hole is deeper and yet somehow not as painful.
A new family arose from the darkness; an unexpected gift from the galaxy. Luke and Han. Chewie, Lando, and Ahsoka. The droids. Leia knows they are the reason she doesn’t feel the loss of Alderaan as keenly as she should. She won’t deny she’s glad of it.
They made room for themselves in her heart without diminishing her love for those she lost.
If not for them, she would have been lost as well. The last remnants of Alderaan would have perished on the Death Star.
But she didn’t. In the ruins of her beloved homeworld, Luke found her; and with Luke, came their parents, whoever they were.
Whether for her protection or not, she can’t believe her parents lied to her. Doubt creeps into her memories of them. How many lies did they tell her? Why didn’t they tell her what they knew all along? (She hates herself for letting uncertainty take hold.)
Family is family, no matter who they are (blood, adopted, unconventional) or what they did.
Vader is not my father, Leia reminds herself again.
The shadow of Anakin Skywalker does not loom so darkly in her mind anymore, but Vader still does. For twenty-four years, her birth father did not exist – Leia was the proud daughter of Bail Organa. When she learned the truth, she wished she hadn’t.
“There is good in him, I’ve felt it.”
He was right.
If it hadn’t been for Luke, Leia’s not sure she ever would have been able to accept the difference between their father and the Sith Lord. If it weren’t for him, she would stop listening every time Ahsoka tried reaching out to them with a story of their father.
If it hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t have known her father at all.
There’s a fondness in Ahsoka’s voice that Leia recognizes when she speaks of Anakin Skywalker, but also a slight tremble. The past haunts her – it haunts them all, but they heal as the Republic heals, with time.
(Nobody ever said how much time.)
It’s been months since Ahsoka joined their team to restore the Republic and the Jedi Order and still Leia cannot bring herself to ask the questions which burn most fiercely in her: questions about their mother.
Somehow, it is easier to banish Vader from her mind with tales of a man she never knew than it is to ask about the woman she knew as Sidonie Panteer.
They’ve been told only the bare minimum; she and Luke long to know more, but they do not push. Ahsoka may not be ready to tell them anything else.
“I have no memory of my mother.”
Fading images – feelings – of a sad, kind, beautiful woman (but not a real name) are all Leia has. And it is still more than Luke.
Leia had the trail left by their mother. She forged a path for the Alliance to follow and vanished; only a ghost in Leia’s mind. The trail their mother made led into the woods and there the ghost abandoned her. She doesn’t know where to lead the Alliance next – which way to turn.
She can’t do it alone.
“Mind if I join you?” comes a voice from behind.
Trying to keep her voice from cracking, Leia replies, “Not at all.”
A chill wind blows, autumn settling in. Ahsoka leans on the railing and pulls her robes tightly about her; they don’t seem to fit properly. The fatigues were the uniform of the soldier; the robes are the uniform of the Jedi master, a role Ahsoka is unaccustomed to.
Leia hugs herself to keep warm, wishing she had brought something more, and not wanting to go back inside.
Both women stare out at the city skyline, not speaking.
Two structures catch Leia’s eye. They sit apart from each other, dwarfing all other buildings by comparison: the Senate Dome and the Jedi Temple. One strong, proud, and unbroken and the other crumbling, destroyed, but filled with promise.
She thinks of all of her parents, living and fighting through the Clone Wars, looking on these same places as the pillars of their world: the Senate and the Jedi holding the galaxy together. They do not have the same consequence anymore, but perhaps they will again someday.
Ahsoka mutters to herself, “I don’t know how I missed it.” Her eyes travel between the same two buildings.
It is a private thought, but Leia can’t hold her tongue, “Missed what?”
“That Anakin was madly in love with her.”
Leia’s heart leaps. While Ahsoka rarely speaks of Anakin without prompting, it is unheard of for her to talk about their mother. (The closely guarded heart of a Jedi.)
“Would you tell me about her?”
Ahsoka shakes her head, wearing an expression of empathy mixed with guilt, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Leia persists.
“Because anything I told you wouldn’t be enough.”
It is silent for a moment except for the noise rising from the city below.
“But we have almost nothing as it is. Surely anything you can tell us is better than that. A story, a memory, a name…”
Another cold wind passes over them. Leia shivers. Ahsoka’s face turns to stone.
“As a child, I tried to understand why she gave me up, but I couldn’t and it haunted me. You’re right, whatever you have to tell us won’t be enough, but it’s something. Something to keep us from slipping into the dark places nothing leads to.”
Taking another glance at the Senate Dome, Leia moves to go inside. She can stand the cold winds; the wintry manner of her companion which chills her to the bone.
“Her name was Padmé.” Ahsoka’s voice is quiet; so quiet it might have been swept away by the wind. “Padmé Amidala of Naboo,” her voice grows stronger though she faces away from Leia. “I met her through Anakin; she was one of the best friends I ever had.”
They turn and lock eyes.
Ahsoka continues, “I see so much of her in you. You have her heart, and her spirit, and her determination. You look like her too. You’re right, Leia, you should know. I’ll tell you what I can about Padmé, I promise.”
Her mouth twitches into a slight smile, “After all you’re my new family.”
Leia cannot find the words. The few memories she has, Ahsoka’s words of assurance, cannot compare to a name. She feels the space in her heart grow: it fills with her mother (Padmé Amidala); the part of it occupied by Ahsoka swells too.
“Thank you,” she manages and goes inside.
For a long time Leia thought her birth mother would be lost to her. She always intended to ask her father about her again, perhaps one day when their cause was at an end. But she never got the chance and the mask of Sidoine Panteer hid Padmé Amidala too well.
With each step, Leia felt herself moving somehow farther and closer to her. She’s heading in one direction now.
Ahsoka’s promise relights her path. The end is nowhere in sight, but Leia can see far enough to push past the overgrowth.