Work Text:
“...which is why I, Leia Organa, believe that adopting this bill would be in the best interests of the New Republic, and thus officially submit it for consideration by my fellow senators.”
As she finished typing out her final statement, Leia closed the file on her computer and let out a sigh of relief. It had been a while since she’d needed to draft any official documents, and though it had used to be her forte, now Leia would catch herself thinking how she almost missed being on the battle lines instead of her quiet little office. Either way, after a few weeks of struggling and brushing up on her skills, the project was finally done and ready for presentation. Her being rusty, however, wasn’t the only reason why it had taken so long to complete: she could only do so much work before losing her ability to put words together, replaced by an overwhelming desire to sleep.
Leia reached for the full cup of caf on her desk, held it to her lips and took a small sip. Discovering that it had already gone cold, she frowned and put the cup back down. Then, hit with a sudden realization, she glanced at the chrono on the wall, only to see the digits change to twenty-three hundred hours and zero minutes.
Aside from some nocturnal species, Leia was probably the only senator still left in the building at this time—something which had become a regular occurrence in the past few weeks. At first, she would only stay for a couple more hours, which Han wrote off as Leia being her usual workaholic self as he jokingly suggested “moving into her office together”. But as she started coming home later and later, Leia saw genuine worry growing behind his mask of nonchalance, and couldn’t help but feel guilty. If she knew Han, though, right now he would be already snoring in bed, too tired himself to stay up and wait for her to come. Perhaps she could afford to stay just a little longer and revise some other documents.
Anything to stay awake.
Stifling a yawn, Leia pulled up another file on her computer—something related to taxes—and started reading. After repeatedly failing to make it past the first paragraph without blanking out, she closed the document in frustration, accepting that she had reached the limit of her productivity for today. Her mind wandered for a while before she decided to open another file, tucked away in a different directory. Once again, a hologram sprang up in front of Leia, but this time it wasn’t a floating screen filled up with words and graphs. A small smile touched her lips as she looked at the blue-tinted image of an elegant architectural ensemble, formed by tall, spire-like buildings of breathtaking beauty.
The City of New Aldera. Her personal project.
Designed after the Royal Palace of Alderaan, it was a colony that would welcome all Alderaanians struggling to find a place in the galaxy, as well as those willing to aid in preserving and rebuilding their legacy. That included creating museums of architecture, art, music and literature, as well as nature reserves repopulated with animals and plants native to Alderaan. Although Leia’s initiative had already found a few enthusiastic supporters in the Senate, at this stage the project was nothing more than a collection of plans and schematics—it could take years, if not decades, before the New Republic would finally be able to allocate some of its funds and resources towards the prospective colony.
Aside from logistics, another problem would be finding a suitable enough planet, similar in its climate to Alderaan. Ironically, one such candidate was the Forest Moon of Endor, which had been instrumental in bringing down the second Death Star and preventing even more worlds from suffering the fate of Leia’s home. It could become the perfect symbol of hope prevailing over the evil of the Empire—as long as her little furry friends didn’t mind some new neighbors, of course.
And if they did, then Leia would continue her search, until she found someone who would answer to her plea and agree to give her culture a new home. She would see to it that the project was completed, no matter how long it took—would make sure that it served as a beacon of light for all Alderaanians, and for everyone who had ever lost something in the war.
Mother and Father would have been proud.
With a sigh, Leia turned off the hologram, folded her arms on the desk and leaned over to rest her cheek against them. Feeling her eyelids grow heavy, she tried to resist for a moment before giving in and closing her eyes as tension left her body. Wary of actually falling asleep, she was still determined to stay awake—but could no longer deny herself a moment of rest.
That moment, however, wasn’t meant to last. Just as Leia’s thoughts started slipping into relaxed nothingness, she heard the hiss of the door opening in front of her, followed by the sound of footsteps—and then another noise that made her heart skip a beat. Leia’s eyes were still closed, yet she didn’t need to see her unexpected visitor in order to learn his identity: there was hardly a being in the galaxy who wouldn’t recognize that steady, never-ending rhythm of artificial breaths.
Together with the other Alliance High Command members, Leia had been present during Vader’s initial questioning as prisoner of the Rebellion, soon after their victory over Endor. Still reeling from Vader suddenly turning up at their doorstep together with Luke, she’d experienced another shock when the former Sith had come forth with an unexpected proposal. Requesting that his trial and execution be postponed by one year, he had offered his help in retaking Coruscant, rebuilding the Republic and dealing with the Imperial remnant. After a long and difficult debate, the majority of High Command members had voted in support of the arrangement—including Leia herself. Initially opposed to the idea, she had quickly understood the political and practical benefits of formally allying with Vader, outweighing her hatred towards him.
It was what was best for the people—for all of the New Republic. And her personal feelings had no part to play in the matter.
Since then, Leia had been trying her best to get used to Vader’s constant presence in her life. For the most part, they managed to get along in the working environment surprisingly well, often even sharing each other’s opinions on certain matters—too often for Leia’s comfort. Yet despite this, she could never look at the former Sith without her heart swelling with anger and hurt, and found herself longing for the day she would finally be able to let go of these emotions. Leia wasn’t looking forward to Vader’s trial itself—but rather to the moment when he would finally exit her life once and for all. That moment, however, was still almost a year away; and that meant she would have to deal with him now.
Shaking off the last traces of drowsiness, Leia sat with her back straight and looked on the dark figure standing at the door. Any signs of vulnerability were now gone from her face as she assumed her politician mask she’d always been so adept at wearing.
“Lord Vader.”
As she acknowledged him, a hint of vitriol slipped into her carefully controlled tone. Yet, subtle as it was, Leia knew Vader hadn’t failed to miss it—just like all those previous times.
Out of all the former Rebels, Leia was the only one who still kept addressing him by his old title. While it was expected that some ex-Imperials would still occasionally slip up, in her case the choice of words was obviously deliberate, never changing no matter the circumstances. Vader, of course, understood the intention behind it. The opposite of what it’d used to mean, now the word served only to remind him that he wasn’t a lord of anything; that he held no power anymore, and never would.
“Senator.”
In his turn, Vader only ever referred to Leia by her official title—at least whenever she was around to hear it. He couldn't call her Princess anymore, for she no longer was one. Nor did he seem willing to think of her as an Organa, which she took as him refusing to concede her lineage to another family. And yet, the former Sith never went as far as to address Leia simply by her name, or otherwise claim her as his own daughter—for which she was secretly grateful. They could function together as allies, colleagues, perhaps even partners; but never as something more.
After a few still moments, Vader moved closer towards Leia. He chose to stand in front of her desk, ignoring the empty chair before him—just as she had expected. For some reason, even during meetings, Vader would almost never sit down at the table with the rest, instead preferring to hover next to his seat. Sometimes he would also grab the back of his chair with his hands, and had it been anyone other than Vader, Leia would have regarded the motion as awkward. But the idea of him being in any way awkward was too ridiculous to even begin entertaining.
Leia’s eyes swept over the former Sith, resting on him expectantly. Seeing as he hesitated to explain his sudden visit, she tried to think of a possible reason why he would decide to see her at this hour.
“If you’re here to learn how the military reform bill is progressing along, then I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for tomorrow’s meeting like everyone else,” Leia stated calmly.
“No,” Vader said, tucking his thumbs under his belt. “I came to discuss a matter of… personal nature.”
Well, that was something new. Something which she wasn’t sure she liked. It wasn’t the first time she had a private conversation with Vader, but everything they had discussed up to this moment pertained strictly to the official New Republic affairs—and she would’ve preferred it to stay that way.
“A matter of ‘personal nature’?” Leia asked, frowning. “And what could that be?”
“Luke informed me that in the last few weeks you had been growing increasingly more tense and stressed. He also claimed that you had recently started suffering from nightmares, yet refused to speak about it with him at length.” He put his hands behind his back. “It is my assumption that the former is caused by the latter, and I would like to know more.”
Leia pressed her lips into a thin line as she fought the urge to scoff.
Was that parental concern she was witnessing right now? The idea of Vader suddenly extending some actual care to her was equal parts amusing and preposterous, yet Leia failed to see any ulterior motive to his words—so he really must have come here on his own accord, with the genuine intention of discussing her problems. An admirable effort, perhaps, except it was too little too late. About 23 years too late, to be exact.
If she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve assumed that it was Luke who’d asked him to speak to her. But Leia was absolutely certain her brother never would’ve betrayed her trust like that. Although their respective relationships with Vader couldn’t have been more different, neither of them tried to impose their views on the other, respecting each other’s right to have that relationship. And despite the occasional tension Leia felt when talking over the topic with Luke, she wouldn’t allow the former Sith to drive a wedge between the two of them.
However, that didn't mean she necessarily had to like the idea of Luke discussing her with Vader in any capacity.
“What else did he tell you?” Leia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Nothing beyond that,” Vader said, his tone sincere enough to placate her suspicions. “Only that he is concerned about you.”
“And that’s why you’re here?”
“Yes.” He paused. “I wish to help.”
“You are quite bold to assume that I would want your help.”
“There is nobody else who can help you.”
“I don’t need help,” Leia finally snapped. “It’s just nightmares. Bad dreams. Everyone has them once in a while.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not aware, considering how many of those you must have personally caused.”
Exasperated, Leia made no effort to hide her hostility anymore, yet Vader seemed to ignore her jabs as he calmly went on.
“For a Skywalker, nightmares can be more than mere dreams.”
Still remaining calm on the outside, Leia felt a bout of anxiety brought about by his cryptic words. Their conversation was already far from enjoyable, but now it took an even more unsettling turn as her chest got heavy with unease.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked with renewed suspicion.
“The Force is strong in you, as it is strong in me or your brother. Your true potential is yet to be unlocked, but I wonder if you might have already started tapping into your power without even realizing it.”
As expected, their dialogue went in that one particular direction she absolutely did not want it to go, and Leia frowned, musing over what she had just heard.
She still didn’t know what to think about her unwanted gift, and usually preferred not to. On the one hand, it was a precious link to her beloved brother, a vital bond that had once allowed her to hear Luke’s cry for help and save him from certain death. On the other hand, that same connection chained Leia to the man she hated most and his legacy of horror—a constant dark reminder that she would never get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. And it was in moments like these that the latter became all the more apparent to her.
“Are you saying,” she began slowly, “that my dreams… nightmares… might somehow be related to the Force?”
Vader gave her a short nod. “Sometimes, one can receive visions of the future through the Force in the form of dreams. It is a rare ability… and one that I happened to be burdened with. I hoped that you would be spared from it—both of you. But now, I am not so sure.”
Even though Leia was familiar with the incredible feats made possible through the Force, some part of her met Vader’s words with skepticism. After learning that this power could allow people to speak from beyond the grave, she’d thought that nothing could surprise her anymore—but seeing the future? This sounded almost too unreal, yet once again Leia failed to feel any dishonesty about the former Sith. Come to think of it, she’d always been good at catching people’s lies. Maybe the Force had something to do with it as well.
“Why should I believe you?” she asked out of stubbornness, rather than genuine denial.
“I am not asking to believe. Only to listen, and to speak.”
For a moment Leia fell silent, contemplating what she should do. She still had little desire to talk with Vader, especially about something which concerned her personally. But if there really was any possibility of her nightmares reflecting the future in any shape or form…
Perhaps she could spare a few more moments of her time.
“Very well.” Allowing herself to lean back a bit, Leia fixed her eyes on Vader, watching him expectantly.
“I first started seeing visions in my dreams as a young child, but at that time, I was unaware of it,” he began, speaking with deliberation. “It wasn’t until later that I realized their prophetic nature, since they only concerned mundane, insignificant things—those which were of no real consequence.”
It took Leia a few moments to realize how familiar this sounded to her, as some of her own childhood memories surfaced in her mind. She remembered running to Father, telling him excitedly that something she’d seen in a dream had actually happened, and him then explaining to her the concept of “prophetic dreams”—how they were simple coincidences or self-fulfilling prophecies that influenced people to act in a certain way. Since then, she had never doubted that explanation—until now.
“But when I was about the same age as you,” Vader continued, “I found myself plagued by far more unsettling visions—nightmares of my mother being held in captivity by the Tusken Raiders. In the end, I came to her rescue—but it was too late.”
That did seem to be in line with what Father had once told Leia about her paternal grandmother—Shmi, was it?—and Leia refrained from any comments as she found herself lost in thought. Despite the evidence quite literally staring her in the face, she still couldn’t fully wrap her head around the notion of Vader coming from an actual family like… well, like any normal human being. But before Leia could really dedicate herself to that train of thought, the former Dark Lord went on.
“The next and final vision that I received through my nightmares was about… my wife. I…” Leia heard leather creak as Vader’s hands clenched into fists. “I saw her die in childbirth. That, too, came to pass.”
Not expecting this to be the next thing that came up, Leia looked closer at Vader as she noticed him falter. Somehow, she felt that there was more to the story than he was letting on to, but decided it was not the time to comment on it.
There still was no name to go together with the image of a beautiful, sad woman that had used to appear in Leia’s dreams. Not because Vader refused to tell her—but because she couldn’t force herself to ask. Leia suspected that Luke already knew, as well as some other people; but she wasn’t yet ready for what felt like betraying the memory of Bail and Breha Organa as her true family.
But family matters weren't what occupied Leia’s mind right now. As her focus shifted back to the present, she started considering the implications of what Vader had shared with her—and what it meant for her, and for everybody else.
Could her nightmares really be visions of the future?
As Leia finally let the possibility into her mind, it chilled her to her very core, slowly transforming into an impending sense of dread.
“So,” Vader said, tilting his helmet, “what is it that you see in your dreams?”
The question rang in Leia’s ears as she stared back at him, wondering if he really was expecting her to answer.
She hadn’t even been able to make herself talk about it with Luke or Han. How could she possibly reveal it to him? Just thinking about it made her feel like everything inside her turned to ice, even before learning about the possibly prophetic nature of her nightmares. And the mere idea of discussing it with Vader was crazy, impossible—and utterly terrifying.
And yet…
And yet she felt a strange nudge to do exactly that.
Despite all common sense, despite the possible consequences, Leia’s mind latched onto the chance to finally relieve herself of this weight, which had just gotten a thousand times heavier. She couldn’t imagine Vader reacting very well to what she had to say, but what choice did she really have? By walking away now, Leia would lose the little sleep she still managed to have, haunted by tonight's revelations and fearing what was to come. If some part of it truly was bound to happen, then she at least owed him her honesty.
Under the desk, Leia clenched her hands, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress.
“I…” She swallowed. “In my dreams, I see…”
Her gaze fell, and she took a shuddering, shaky breath, before finally forcing the words out.
“I see myself killing you.”
Tense and stiff, Leia held her breath as she stared down at her desk. She was listening for the sound of cracking windows, waiting for the unnatural cold to creep over her body, expecting any other signs of Vader’s emotions to manifest around her—but the room stayed quiet and still until he finally spoke up again.
“Is that all?” Vader asked.
Leia blinked and raised her eyes. For a moment, the dread she’d been feeling inside was replaced by utter confusion.
“What?” she asked back.
“You have accepted our current alliance as a necessary measure, but it hardly changes how you feel. A mere month ago you would use any chance to destroy me, and you still hate me now—perhaps even more than ever. I would not think that seeing me die, especially in a dream, would bring you any sort of distress.” Vader folded his arms over his chest. “So why does it trouble you?”
Still confused, Leia didn’t know what she found more surprising—Vader’s matter-of-fact tone as he was saying this, or the accuracy with which he had read her. She regarded the former Dark Lord in silence, not quite believing that they were actually having this conversation. But his unexpectedly calm demeanor had somehow rubbed off on her, and soon she was able to relax enough to continue.
“It’s…” Leia drew a deep breath. “It’s not just about what happens in my dreams. It’s how it happens.”
Still finding it difficult to gather her thoughts, she realized there was no going back now—and made the last mental push to finally start speaking.
“At first, it was… fairly normal. I would dream about being in a battle—sometimes in space, sometimes on the ground. Many of them reminded me of our past campaigns. In each dream, you and I would somehow end up pitted against each other, fighting an even fight until I would get a lucky shot off, or make you misstep and fall, or… or defeat you in some other way. In each dream, you died—and that’s when I woke up.”
She stopped for a bit, expecting the former Sith to ask her a question or react in some other way. But he didn’t appear to be willing to make any comments yet, and Leia felt silently encouraged to continue.
“But since last week, it has started getting more…”
She hesitated, trying to think of a way to describe how her nightmares had felt lately. Detailed? Realistic? Or perhaps—
“Plausible.”
Leia glanced at Vader in surprise. “Yes,” she said after a short pause. Somehow, he had provided the exact word she’d been struggling to find, adding to the sinking feeling in her stomach as she went on.
“The nightmare I’ve been having recently… it didn’t feel like the past anymore. I found myself in the present time—rebuilding after the war. In that dream, you and Luke returned to Coruscant from another planet, but I think you got injured there, or... incapacitated in some way—I’m not entirely certain. In any case, you were unconscious and had to be put in the intensive care unit. And I… I saw it as my chance. A chance to finally be at peace with myself.”
Knowing Vader was listening intently to her every word, Leia took a pause to collect herself again before proceeding.
“I waited until nightfall and stole Luke’s lightsaber while he was sleeping. After that, I went to the medical center, told them I wanted to visit you, and they showed me to your room. There were a few droids inside, but I made them leave, saying I needed a private moment. And when they left, I walked up to your bed, ignited the lightsaber—and drove the blade through your chest.”
Leia drew a deep breath, forcing herself to recall the images in her memory, yet wishing to erase them forever from her mind.
“And I enjoyed it,” she said in a low voice. “She enjoyed it. The me that was in the dream. Even when Luke found out what happened, she… I… I didn’t regret it. I felt relieved. Happy. And seeing the terror on his face… somehow, it made me even happier. As if in that moment, I became stronger.”
Her voice faltered, now barely more than a whisper.
“And I wanted more of it.”
Leia fell silent and stared down blankly at her desk, shame and guilt weighing down her gaze.
“Is this what the Dark Side feels like?” she asked suddenly.
Still impassive, Vader tilted his head, as though studying her with a newfound interest. “What makes you assume that?”
“Luke hadn’t really talked about the Dark Side before Endor,” Leia began slowly, recollecting. “When he came back from the Death Star and told me what happened, he… he described how he struggled when you both fought. He said that the Dark Side makes you stronger, but twists your thoughts and emotions—to the point where you cannot even recognize yourself anymore. That’s how he felt when he briefly touched it… before he stopped himself from killing you. From falling to the Dark Side.”
“Turning. Not falling.” Noticing Leia’s confusion at his correction, Vader elaborated. “One doesn’t fall to the Dark Side. It is not something that happens by accident, against one’s will. It’s always a choice—a choice to give into your worst feelings. Into your fear. Your anger. Your—”
“Hate,” Leia whispered.
A long, heavy silence hung between them as Vader’s breaths echoed across the room.
“I see,” he finally said. “You fear becoming too much like me. More than you already are.”
Leia felt the universe come to a stop around her. All the thoughts in her mind collapsed into one singularity, before exploding into a myriad of emotions; the strongest of them being regret for ever deciding to open up, foolishly believing it could make her feel better. Abruptly, she got up from her desk, every fiber of her soul screaming at her to leave—to escape anywhere that wasn’t near him.
“I told you everything you wished to know,” she said curtly. “I believe we are finished here, Lord Vader.”
Not even bothering to turn off her computer, Leia then headed towards the exit, as quickly as she could—but Vader was quicker than her. In a few swift strides he placed himself between Leia and the door, his tall frame now blocking her only way out of the room.
“Let me go,” Leia ordered coldly, glaring at him. She waited for a few seconds, expecting him to move aside; but Vader ignored her demand, still rooted in his place as he kept looking on her. Suddenly, she felt a spark flash up inside of her; a rising frustration she was no more able to control. Leia’s hand clenched into a tight fist, and the next second she hit Vader over his armor plate, ignoring the pain of the impact.
“I said, let me go! ” she demanded again, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Yet even now, Vader’s lifeless figure would not budge an inch—and that was when Leia could no longer keep herself together.
“Why won’t you just let me live my life?!” she cried out in desperation, pounding on his chest with her fists; the scorching feelings she’d been trying to repress finally bursting through. “Why can’t you just leave me be?! Why did Luke have to save y—”
Leia’s hands shot up as she pressed them against her mouth.
Wide-eyed, barely breathing, she stared at Vader, still motionless as he stood in front of her. The fire that had burned her from the inside out was doused just as quickly as it had started, a chilling emptiness left in its wake; and the realization of what she was doing—what she’d been about to say—at last settled in.
Slowly, as though moving through water, Leia sank to the floor in the same spot she was standing, her legs tucked under her. She folded her hands on her lap, took a deep breath, pressed her lips together, and did not cry.
Her tears were for Han and Luke. For Chewie and Lando. For Threepio and Artoo.
But not for him.
Still maintaining her composure, Leia refused to hang her head or let her gaze fall to the floor—in her mind, that would be admitting defeat. At the same time, she couldn’t force herself to look at Vader directly, only able to perceive his dark form somewhere on the edge of her vision. She found herself staring blankly at the wall in front of her, a heavy numbness creeping over her entire body. As the sensation eventually made it into her mind, Leia felt her heart starting to race in a rising panic. She tried to choke the feeling, fighting a desperate battle against the memories suddenly flooding her head, telling herself that she was still in her office, that she was safe, that she was not a prisoner; and yet, Leia was certain that any second now, she would hear the shrill whirring of the IT-O interrogator droid pierce the silence behind her.
Fallen out of time, Leia kept staring absently into space, until she noticed some motion in the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly to the side, she saw the massive black figure suddenly lose its towering presence as he…
Knelt at her feet?
No, not quite, she realized a second later. Even though Vader was now down on one knee before her, it wasn’t a display of submission—as evidenced by the fact that he didn’t bow his helmeted head, only tilting it downwards slightly in order to meet Leia’s eyes. And despite the still remaining height disparity between them, she suddenly found it much easier to look back at him, now that he wasn’t looming above her small form like a dark, crushing shadow.
They kept regarding each other for a few more moments before Vader finally broke the silence with a question.
“Have you ever wondered what motivates one to turn?”
No. Leia couldn’t say she had. And yet, still, she had a pretty good idea.
“Power.” She spat the word, as though it tasted poisonous in her mouth.
“Yes. The Dark Side promises power, but that power in itself is rarely a goal. Merely a means to achieve it.” Vader paused, allowing a few breathing cycles to pass. “My goal was to save the people I loved from death.”
Leia’s features softened, and her wariness gave way to puzzlement. “What?”
“Upon receiving visions of your mother dying in childbirth, I sought to prevent that future from happening. I couldn’t share my concerns with anyone inside the Order, since the Jedi were forbidden from forming attachments and acting on their feelings. Instead, I chose to confide in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.” Vader took another pause, as if struggling to continue. “He told me that the only way to save my secret wife and our unborn children was to turn to the Dark Side.”
“And you believed it?” Leia asked in astonishment. It wasn’t the only thing worthy of acknowledgement out of what she had just heard—but it was the only thing she could allow herself to focus on, her heart not yet ready to confront the rest.
“Would you not do anything in your power to save that which you value the most?” he asked her in return.
“No,” Leia said without hesitation, the sudden firmness in her voice surprising even to her. “Because there are… there are some things one must never do. Lines that cannot ever be crossed, no matter the goal or reason.”
“Then it’s all the guarantee you will ever need.”
Leia studied him for another moment and shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said wearily. “You said that your visions came true. How can you be so sure the things I saw won’t happen?”
“Because what you saw is what you believe your own destiny to be.”
A realization sparked inside of Leia as she looked at him, intently, hopefully; and that realization only grew stronger as Vader spoke.
“There was a time when I believed that I could change destiny. Believed that I could defy it; reshape it as I saw fit. In my arrogance, I challenged destiny—and lost. Then, I started believing the opposite; that we were nothing more than slaves to our own destinies, forced to take the single path laid out before us. Now I see how foolish I was in both cases—for now I know that there is no such thing as destiny. Our own future, by its nature, cannot be predetermined. It is always in motion, driven only by our acts in the present.” He hung his head. “I do not wish for you to learn this the same way as I did.”
A strange calmness washed over Leia as she took in Vader’s words and allowed them to settle in her soul. His black mask was once again looking at her, and she regarded him back with focus and lucidity she’d never felt in his presence before. Behind the mask, Leia still saw the man whom she hated with all her heart—but now, she also saw something else.
In all these years, she had gotten used to thinking of Vader as a symbol of everything that was wrong with the galaxy. Even though Leia knew that he had been merely enforcing the Emperor’s decisions, it was Vader who had agreed to do all the killing for him—it was Vader who’d been at the forefront of the Empire’s greatest atrocities. To her, he was a traitor, a torturer, a tyrant; yet never a person.
But now—for the first time ever—she peered beyond the things he represented for her and for the galaxy. For the first time, Leia wasn’t thinking of who or what Vader was—but instead, how and why he became these things.
Behind this mask, there was a collection of decisions. A sum of choices. Foul, misguided, terrible choices.
And it was in her power to not repeat them.
Leia rose back to her feet and squared her shoulders. She took a deep breath and lowered her head to meet Vader’s gaze, who was still down on one knee as he looked up at her.
“I don’t know if I can ever stop hating you,” she said, quietly, “but I would like to try.”
And before Leia could truly think about what she was doing—before she would allow herself to second-guess her impulse—she reached out her hand down to Vader.
For those few moments, time stood still as he silently regarded the small palm in front of his mask, before finally extending his own hand towards hers.
Tense with anticipation, Leia watched as the large black glove wrapped around her dainty hand. Some part of her had expected to find the touch repulsive or painful—but it was not. Even as Leia helped Vader pull himself up, she felt barely any pressure from his grip, clashing with her memory of those same hands grabbing her ruthlessly by the shoulders. And when she had let go, his fingers seemed to linger in the air for a second longer before he let his arm fall back to his side.
Leia looked around her office as she took in the reality of the moment, as if waking up after a long hyperspace journey. She glanced at the chrono on the wall and then shifted her gaze back to Vader. With his mask turned to the side, he appeared to be in the same kind of daze as Leia had been, until she called out to him again.
“I think it is high time for us to leave,” she said, smoothing out the folds of her dress.
Vader looked at her as he straightened his posture. “Indeed.” He moved away from the door. “I bid you goodnight, Senator.”
“Thank you, Lo—”
She broke off, taking a short pause before amending herself.
“...Vader.”
Vader’s gaze dwelled on Leia for another moment before he turned around and stepped out of her office. A bit later, she followed him, after making sure her computer and the lights were turned off. As Leia got into the hall, she turned her head to see the former Sith’s dark figure striding away in the distance. She watched him until he was out of sight and then went down the opposite hallway.
After leaving the Senate building, Leia quickly made her way home, got to bed, sneaked into Han’s embrace—and for the first time in days, drifted off to sleep feeling at peace.
There were no more nightmares.