Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars. Disney does, but so does Lucas Films LTD, I think. Also, the opening scene is inspired/lifted from the Revenge of the Sith novel by Matthew Stover. If you haven’t read it, highly recommend it, the man is a genius!
then
Anakin sat beside his wife. She was five months pregnant, and she was wincing.
“Are you okay?” he asked, worried and searching her body for her source of pain.
Padmè smiled. “Yes, sorry, he just has a kick,” she explained.
Anakin frowned, his brow raised as he looked at her, “I thought you said you wanted the gender to be a surprise.”
Padmè laughed. “Yes, it is, but it’s a motherly thing.”
Anakin pressed his leather-clad flesh hand to her belly and smiled. “Nah, that’s definitely a kick of a strong, little girl.”
She snorted. “Just because you want a daughter,” she teased.
He grinned wider, it was true, though he didn’t really care in the long run, he just wanted the baby and Padmè healthy. Shoving past those thoughts, he gave a playful, “Hey!”
The two laughed, and he rubbed the spot the baby had kicked, to connect with the child, but also to soothe his wife’s pain.
“You forget, my love, I am a very powerful Jedi. I know these things!”
Padmè’s lips twitched as she bowed her head mockingly, “Oh, my apologies, Master Jedi,” she teased him. “Though you forget I am a mother, and a mother’s intuition is never wrong.”
“Oh, is that so, Senator,” he teased her, tickling her under her arm and she jerked away.
“Ah! Ani!” she laughed, and he bent down to kiss her.
“I love you,” she murmured softly against his lips once they entered the bedroom. He slowly undressed her, admiring all of her: Her swollen belly and full breasts, and he admired how she was pregnant and resilient, and he ran from the thoughts of his dreams. This child would be a blessing, and it would change their lives for the better.
now
“Rabè, take Leia and run! Run! They're coming!” Sabè screamed as she shoved a magazine into her blaster, tossing Rabè another.
Neither woman hesitated as Sabè ran to her death and Rabè scooped up a frightened seven year old Leia and ran to the bunker.
The door to the home blasted open and bullets rang through the entry from white armored Stormtroopers. Sabè ducked for cover, firing back, killing two before it all ceased.
There was a surprising coldness in the air, and something like… sadness, maybe, or fury. It twisted her soul, and made the girl gasp as it fell over her like the water in their fresher that never got warm, no matter what she or Rabè did.
Then she heard it. Her blood ran cold as a hissing respirator filled the air.
They had heard stories of Lord Vader. There wasn’t a rebel or rebel sympathizer who hadn’t heard of him, of his wrath. He’d slaughter families to punish the one, he’d murdered millions, women and children including, and he’d been the one to bring the Jedi to extinction. Her heart raced and she buried Rabè and Leia down, as far down as her mind would go.
If Palpatine knew of Leia… She shuddered to think of it.
Then, out of nowhere, an invisible hand grabbed her hair. She clawed at it, gasping in pain, but refused to scream, even as she was dragged out before him to lay at his feet. Looking up at the masked figure, he towered over her and observed her. His hands were not raised, but the grip was tight and unyielding and her heart raced.
So much power, she thought, her heart racing.
“Where,” he said suddenly, his voice robotic and deep, menacing, and the room seemed to rattle under its sound, “are the others?”
She was lifted into the air as if she were a puppet on strings and she tried to break free, but the invisible hand grasped her neck, not enough to choke her but enough to hurt.
“I — I don’t know what you’re —“ but he cut her off with a harsh squeeze and the house shook.
“I said,” he said loudly, taking a step forward and raising her to meet the black lenses of his eyes, “where are the others!”
She gasped, trying to get air, to break free, but he surprisingly threw her to the side and she crashed against the wall.
“Search the area! Tear the place apart if you have to! I want them all alive and before me!”
“Yes, Lord Vader!” His men saluted him and they spread out as Sabè coughed and gasped, trying to stand upon her feet, but he threw her back down harshly.
She refused to show him fear, even as he stalked toward her, like a death omen.
He paused for a moment, as if taking her in and she looked back at him, her face hard and determined. She wouldn’t die begging for her life, and she wouldn’t give him a single fucking thing. This man had killed them. She was determined to make him pay as she eyed the blaster he’d torn from her hands when he lifted her high in the air.
Despite not seeing his face and hearing nothing but breathing, she could tell he found that amusing. Eying her for a moment longer, he reached out his hand, summoning the weapon, and tossed it at her feet.
“Go ahead, Sabè,” he said mockingly, “see if you can kill me.”
She eyed the blaster. He was arrogant, and he was either stupid or was going to kill her with dignity. Neither seemed possible, and she eyed the lightsaber hanging openly from his belt, remembering how many times she’d seen Anakin wield it to take down battalions of battle droids, how he’d probably used that blue blade to try and save Padmè from this creature.
An old wave of anguish washed over her. She clenched her fists, focusing on the now. It had been what Master Obi-Wan had told her to do when he’d handed her Leia that night, all those years ago.
Padmè… She thought, her heart twisting with anger and hate and sadness as she saw herself reflected back in the eyes of this creature. Picking up the blaster she shot him. He flicked the bolts away from him in the way one would flying insects in the lake country, and he tore the blaster from her hand with his hand, crushing it between his fingers, the pieces falling to the floor.
“Now tell me, where are the others and I will spare you.”
Spare her? Why!? Why her?!
Instead of contemplating that or his offer, she spat at him. There was a pause before she was thrown across the floor and crashed head first into the opposite wall, her skull exploding in pain as she let out a pained gasp and a small whimper. She was bleeding, but she looked at him as he raised his hand, her air supply cutting off slowly, a far worse torture than before.
“Don’t make me destroy you, Sabè!” he snapped. “Where! Are! The! Others!” With each word, her trachea was squeezed little by little until the edges around him blurred, but he forced her to stay conscious.
It made her skin crawl, knowing he was inside her mind, combing it, but he found nothing and he made an almost growling sound as he slammed her into the entrance to the sitting room.
He stalked after her, like a nexu and its pray, she shivered, despite herself. Bravely, she kept her eyes on him. He could break her, but not her spirit.
“Such a waste,” he said as quietly as she suspected he could, as if he didn’t mean to say it aloud.
“A waste?” she spat at him, and then she let out a mocking laugh, despite her spinning head. This had to be a joke! “You really think I’d join you? You who killed my queen and her Jedi protector! I know exactly who you are, Lord Vader. I know your sins. Retribution will come for what you did to Amidala and Master Skywalker!”
He tilted his head, and a feeling washed over her. Regret, she thought. Did he regret it? Or regret having to kill her? Neither, again, seemed plausible, but she didn’t find an answer as a stormtrooper called from the back door, “Lord Vader, sir, we found something!”
Vader turned, then said, “Stay with this one,” in a harsh voice. The trooper ran in, saluted, and hugged his blaster to his chest as Vader gave her one last look, his cape billowing behind him.
~*~
Leia watched as Rabè secured the bunker, holding Lola close to her chest and trying to remain brave. Her aunts needed her brave. They’d prepared her for this, right?
The two women had always feared the empire. All her aunts and uncles did. It never stopped their fight, though. Uncle Tonra and Uncle Typho were some of the best pilots in the rebellion, Aunt Eirtaè and Aunt Yanè worked in mechanics and other things Leia didn’t really understand, and Aunt Sachè worked in politics to help people from the empire. They all visited her and Aunt Sabè and Rabè, who tirelessly raised her. As far as Leia knew, they didn’t really get involved in the fight.
One time, Leia overheard Aunt Sabè consoling Aunt Rabè about it. She had been three, and she’d been supposed to have been asleep. She’d crawled down the stairs and watched them talk in the kitchen.
“We should be out there, Sabè! We’re some of the best! We could make a difference!” Aunt Rabè had said angrily, slamming her hands on the table.
Aunt Sabè had sat there, silently, just watching. “Rabè, we have our mission. Think of Leia… Think of Padmè and Anakin…”
There had been silence then. There was always silence when she overheard them talking about her parents.
Leia clutched her necklace. It was her most prized possession, aside from Lola, of course. It had been her mother’s, and it had been given to her by her father once, and beside it was a charm that held their photos. She looked at it often, soaking them in.
She looked like her mother, but had her father’s cheekbones and sass, according to Aunt Rabè.
“Oh, he always had a comeback,” Aunt Rabè had once said, tapping her nose, “just like you.”
They always talked about them: They were brave, determined, kind, and so full of love. They died fighting, her aunts were sure of it.
Rabè finished her check and went to Leia, holding her in her lap. She rocked the young girl, kissing her hair. “Leia,” she whispered, “no matter what happens, we love you so much. You’re such a brave girl, my wonderful girl.”
Leia tried to turn, but couldn’t. She’d never seen her aunts afraid, and while Rabè was holding it together, Leia could sense the fear for her. Rabè would die protecting Leia, she trusted that.
There was a loud creak and Rabè sucked in a sharp breath. “Leia, go hide. Don’t come out! No matter what,” she said quietly, her voice commanding.
“But —“
“Go!” she snapped, her face softening. “Please. Don’t make a sound. It’ll be like a game.”
Leia hesitated, then went, hiding deep in the bowels of the bunker, crouching low behind boxes, keeping herself hidden, but Rabè in view.
The door to the underground bunker tore off with a loud scrape of metal and a loud crash that made dirt rain from the ceiling, and Leia threw her hands over her ears as Rabè dove behind boxes. Both were quiet, but there was a noise from above that filled the air, like deep, heavy, breathing.
Leia’s heart raced as she caught Aunt Rabè’s eye and she held a finger to her lips.
“I would suggest,” a deep, loud, artificial voice filled the space, making Leia tremble at the menacing feeling she got from it, “you come out. Do not make me come down and get you.”
Leia scooted back toward the wall, clutching her legs to her chest and hiding her face within her knees, trying not to whimper. She had to stay quiet. This man couldn’t know they were down here, that was the nature of the game.
Something heavy landed in the bunker, making the floor shake and boxes tumble and Leia hid her face in her knees more. She begged her parents, her dad especially, The Hero With No Fear, to keep them safe and hidden.
then
She hadn’t seen Obi-Wan in years, but there he was, cloaked in a brown robe and holding a bundle.
Sabè’s heart skipped a beat. Before, it would have been because of him, and now, it was because she knew.
“S—she’s gone, isn’t she?” she asked him, she didn’t open the door wider, nothing. She watched him, waiting for him to confirm the feeling she’d felt when Padmè’s soul had been snuffed out.
“Yes,” he said and entered the apartment of the now-dead senator. Sabè took the baby from his arms, determined to keep her composure, but it was slipping.
“And… and Anakin?”
Obi-Wan wasn’t facing her, and she watched his shoulders tense, then he stroked his beard. He looked like a defeated man, a broken man…
“He was murdered. They both were,” he said.
“By who?!” she asked, a fire lighting inside. This was a purpose: Vengeance.
Obi-Wan turned to them, “It was a Sith Lord by the name of Darth Vader, but he is dead now, too. He burned to death on the Mustafar System.”
Sabè sucked in a harsh breath. “Good!” she said with a bite, but Obi-Wan seemed to deflate.
“We need to keep the girl safe. Leia,” he said.
Sabè looked down at Leia, stroking her small cheek with the tip of her index finger, her heart shattering. “With my life,” she vowed.
Obi-Wan nodded. “The emperor must never find her. Don’t go back to Naboo, leave Coruscant, keep her hidden.”
Six months later, Rabè reported Darth Vader had massacred a group of rebels on Ryloth.
now
The boxes Rabè hid behind were thrown to the side. Leia looked up from her knees, her brown eyes wide as her Aunt tried to grab the pole near her, an invisible force pulling her. The air was filled with the awful breathing and Rabè determined grunting as she fought against the pull, but then with a growl from the, what she assumed was a man, Rabè was yanked away and at the creature in black’s feet. Rabè stood quickly, and threw a punch the man caught, crushing her hand and making her bow to her knees in pain.
Throwing her hand to the side, Rabè flew back, landing hard on her back.
Leia gasped, then covered her mouth, but neither paid her mind. The black-clad being stalked towards Rabè. “Perhaps you will give me what Sabè would not,” he said, and Rabè raised against her will, as high as the bunker would let her go, her head brushing the ceiling where the black-clad man had to crouch low to fit. Rabè grabbed at her throat and Leia’s eyes widened, tears streamed and she held her hands to her mouth tighter.
“Where are the others?”
Rabè scratched at her throat, “Fuck you!” she croaked and made a pained noise as he squeezed harder.
“It would be such a pity to die here, helpless,” he taunted her, as if he knew her.
Rabè’s face was red, and he allowed her just enough air to let her know he could snuff it out, kill her. She was powerless here, yet she didn’t break. Leia watched, eyes wide, wanting to scream out.
She wanted to run at the man, but knew she couldn’t. She had to stay hidden and quiet.
Without warning, the boxes before her were angrily swept aside and she gasped, an invisible hand gripped her tunic, tugging her forward. She dug in her heels, crying out as she moved toward the man.
“No! No! Leave her alone!” Rabè was trying to shout, but it came out in pained whispers, her feet kicking out, her hands moving fiercely against the hand.
“Perhaps, if you won't talk, this child will. Or maybe she can motivate you,” he said, then a long red blade appeared, the entire room grew eery and Rabè shouted louder.
When Leia was before the man, she looked up at him. He had a great helmet with black lenses, and she could see herself cower before him, but he seemed to pause. Leia didn’t know where he was looking at, but she could tell something changed. He was sad, but angry, as if Leia had burned him. She somehow felt no fear, even as he reached for her throat, even as Rabè’s kicks and shouts became more frantic.
The lightsaber turned off, and he grabbed her mother’s necklace. She tried to pull away as he lifted it, fearing he’d crush it or tear it from her neck, but he just stared at it, as if in a trance. Then the bunker shook in anger as his eyes seemed to snap to her face — though she couldn’t see them behind his mask, his hand coming to touch her cheek, but stopped halfway to its destination.
“Where,” he said in a harsh voice he almost struggled to keep even, “did you find this?”
It was directed to Leia, but almost seemed to be said to Rabè, too. Leia shook beneath his gaze, her hand trying to tug it back, but he didn’t relent. “It — it’s my mother’s! It’s mine!”
Rabè hit the floor, coughing and gasping for breath, but she began to crawl to Leia. “Leia! Leave her alone! She’s done nothing —“
But Rabè was thrown back and smacked into the floor.
“Mother,” the word was said with malice and Leia felt a surge of fear and tried to move away, but he tightened his grip on the pendant. “And who was she?”
Rabè stood up, “Leia, don’t!” But the man waved his hand and Rabè was thrown to the side, smacking into the wall with a loud thud.
“Silence!” he hissed, his eyes never leaving Leia. “Tell me, who was your mother!”
Leia’s mouth went dry.
“She’s mine,” Rabè said, almost pleading. Leia could tell Rabè would give up the whole rebellion for her and the man must’ve sensed it, too.
“Don’t,” he hissed, the bunker once again shaking from his anger, “lie. To. Me!”
Rabè was thrown back again, and in fear for her aunt’s life, Leia grabbed his gloved hand.
“Stop it! Stop it! Don’t hurt her! Please!” Leia screamed, tears streamed down her face and the man paused, his masked head snapping back to her and the room stilled. They looked at one another, and with shaking hands, Leia tugged the necklace back and opened the charm. The two holopictures filled the air between them: Her dad, handsome with long sandy hair and piercing blue eyes, a Jedi knight; he looked proud in his dark Jedi attire, as he stood, looking right at the camera. Sabè said the locket had been her mother’s, too. His picture was from the last year of The Clone Wars that she’d cut from the paper. Her mother had had many photos of her father, all of which were in a box beneath Leia's bed, but this, like her mother's, was her favorite. He looked strong, fearless, and somehow kind; she could see how kind he was, how brave, and then there was her mother’s photo. Padmè’s photo was of her in a long blue dress, her hair tied into two buns, smiling. Sometimes, Leia thought she remembered her mother, sad, but kind, reaching out for her. Maybe it was a dream, or a wish because she just wished to know her parents, to feel the love her aunts told her they held for her.
The man stared at the photos quietly and Rabè gasped, unable to move or speak, pined by the Force itself.
Leia could tell his voice was meant to be soft, that he was surprised, but for whatever reason, his voice was harsh and robotic. “What is your name?”
“Leia,” she replied, then turned to her aunt in apology, making sure she was okay. “Please don’t hurt her! Please!”
But he ignored that and caressed her cheek. “Leia,” he said.
Rabè gasped again and clutched her throat, coughing. “What’re you doing? Let her go!”
The man snapped his head towards her, “Where is Padmè?” he hissed.
Rabè bared her teeth, “She’s dead. She died because of you. You’re him, aren’t you, Lord Vader!”
He let out what, Leia assumed, was a bitter laugh. “Yes. I killed her.”
Leia tugged away, but he refused to let her go.
“Anakin and Padmè died because of you,” Rabè screamed, slapping the floor. “You murdered them, leave the child be! She is no concern of yours!”
Vader picked up the japor snippet again, “No… Anakin Skywalker didn’t die. I destroyed him.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” Rabè snapped. “He died by your lightsaber!”
“No,” Vader said, shifting the pendant in his fingers, Leia whimpering, but he stroked her cheek again, in an attempt to comfort her, but she flinched away and his hand fell uselessly. “I am her father,” he hissed.
The air went cold, and he looked at Leia, who backed away in fear, finally able to as he let the pendant drop. “If Padmè Amidala is your mother, then I am your father,” he repeated, and it was like the whole galaxy dropped from under her.
Author’s Note: I got this idea from the moment we met baby Leia, and then in part three just sealed the deal that I needed to write this AU. Luke does exist, he is on Tatooine, but the idea of Vader finding Leia is a chef’s kiss to me. I'm just a sucker for Hayden being a father, okay!