Star Wars is my crack (3) + the AU goes to Casa Organa
At twenty-four, I'm pulling my first all-nighter. 4:30 in the morning ZOMG. *yawn*
Anyway! Thoughts on the rest of the OT:
-- the "Luke No, I am your father" scene is every bit as amazing as I remembered. Again, I've heard complaints about Mark Hamill's acting, but it works for me. If my superpowered cyborg archnemesis had cornered me, pwned me in a duel, chopped off my hand, and then informed me that he was my father and he'd really like to take out our common enemy and have some family togetherness time, do you know what would be the first thing out of my mouth?
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," that's what.
-- another great one is the scene between the Emperor and Vader, which has way more of an impact on a rewatching. The Emperor is all "it's Anakin Skywalker's son! [subtext: not yours, because you're Vader, not that wimp Anakin Skywalker. and therefore you have NO FEELINGS WHATSOEVER for his offspring. who, in case you've forgotten in the last thirty seconds, is NOT YOURS.]" And Vader replies with something along the lines of, "he's just a boy," which on a first watching can be taken as "meh, he's too weak to be a danger to us" but obviously really means "ack! don't hurt him! he's too little for this!"
Everyone together: aww.
-- I had completely forgotten about Lando Calrissian. He's... I don't know if he's awesome or not, but he's one of the more interesting characters. However, he's also the only POC I remember seeing in the entire trilogy aliens don't count). I'm vaguely unsettled that he's such a thoroughgoing turncoat.
-- Yoda turning over to avoid the subject was... partly funny, and partly ... I don't know. I'm completely in sympathy with Luke's indignation with the old school Jedi ("FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW?!" LOL) and suspect he's a better Jedi than all of them.
-- SPEAKING OF WHOM, the rescue was suitably epic. I mean, Leia choking Jabba with her own slave chain and blind!Han carrying on regardless were very cool. But it's Han and Leia. I expect nothing less.
Somehow I did not expect Luke frigging Skywalker to stroll in and make his way to Jabba by Force-choking the guards. No, really. His father would be proud. (The Skywalkers seem strong believers in Force-choke diplomacy.) And he apparently doesn't even touch the Dark Side to do it.
(... which kind of makes sense. I mean, the Dark Side is all about rage and hatred and so on, and Luke feels nothing whatsoever about Jabba's random jerkass guards. However, doesn't that imply that some sociopathic Light Side-user could go around mass-murdering or whatever?)
Then killing the Sarlacc, jumping off the board, wielding his new lightsabre like nobody's business and feeding a few dozen enemies to that really gross monster -- to be digested over the course of a millennium? Holy crap. He's like... light!Vader. All the awesome and the intensity and the "screw with me/mine and I will CRUSH YOUR WINDPIPE WITH THE POWER OF MY MIND" and very little of the evil.
-- and then, the end. I nearly cried again -- I actually did cry when I was fourteen, partly because I'm a wuss, and partly because I have mile-wide daddy issues.
To whit: my father disappeared when I was two years old. He was royally screwed over during his own childhood (his problems only began with his mother drinking heavily throughout her pregnancy). When I was a teenager, he got indicted by a grand jury; he's still serving probation. I take after him in both looks and temperament and random habits, making him less 'my father the jerkass' than an omnipresent spectre of dark!me. I also love him, for reasons which defy human understanding and certainly mine.
So yes, for me, Star Wars is less about the epic fantasy (er, I mean sci-fi. yes, sci-fi...) than ... this dysfunctional family with superpowers in space. The father's done horrible things and they're on opposite sides of the law war, but they love each other anyway, and when push comes to shove, the father's willing to sacrifice everything because it's his child.
It's this lovely fantasy of a father who, like mine, is kind of a monster, and kind of pitiable in his utter misery, also like mine, and who moves heaven and earth (er, so to speak) to interact with his child and keep him alive. Unlike mine: if somebody gets in the way of my safety or my relationship with my father, he ... writes a note, maybe, a few months after the fact. If somebody gets in the way of Luke's safety or Vader's (messed up, but sincere!) attempts to bond with him, they get strangled or blown up. It's strangely heartwarming in a completely insane way.
When it comes to paternal commitment, Vader > Dad.
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Title: Ten Facts About Leia Organa
Fandom: Star Wars
Fanverse: The 'verse wherein Anakin saves the infant Luke from the Emperor and therefore survives his redemption and other stuff happens.
Blurb: Leia exists in this 'verse. And channels her inner fangirl.
Major Characters: Leia Organa, Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Length: Somehow, even longer than Luke's. But still a one-shot.
Warning: My extremely casual approach to SW canon continues. And somehow Luke and Leia never interact AT ALL, even though getting them into the same room was kind of the whole point.
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(10) Bail Organa is Leia's father.
Oh, she knows he is not her natural father. That much is public knowledge, and he has never made the slightest attempt to conceal it from her. It simply doesn't matter. He has brought her up as his daughter - supported her, educated her, loved her. In every way that counts, he is her father.
(9) The Queen of Alderaan was not Leia's mother.
Perhaps it would be different if she could remember her, if she had seen the queen in something other than royal portraits or Father's treasured holos, but she doesn't and she hasn't. Instead Leia remembers a different woman, solemn and beautiful, with a kind smile and her own dark eyes and pale oval face.
The lady always seemed impossibly splendid at first. Then she would hold out her arms, her face lighting up when Leia ran to her, and clutch the princess' small body to her for a moment. After she and Father discussed Important Senate Business, she would take Leia out into the garden and talk to her - not in the silly way that most grown-ups talk to children, either, but seriously. It always seemed as if she wanted nothing more than to hear about Leia's day and Leia's life and Leia's childish victories and grievances.
Perhaps she didn't.
Then she would vanish, returning after a few months with sadder eyes and fewer smiles (and a bigger belly, but even then, Leia knew better than to mention that). She doted upon Leia with an increasingly desperate adoration, and then one day she left and didn't come back.
Father must have explained that she died, but Leia doesn't remember it. She doesn't remember anything, except being afraid, and feeling that everyone else was afraid too, and missing the lady.
Mother, she thinks now, and wishes she knew her name.
(8) Leia is five years old when she sees the Empire die.
She's in the schoolroom, too frightened to concentrate on her lesson and covering the fear with impatience, as she always does. Her tutor scolds her - she sticks out her lower lip, glaring out the window - and the palace lights on fire.
There's more than that, of course: the first nervous queries after the Emperor and Lord Vader, the early days when the Senate rushes to take up the reins of government (again), her father's role as chief architect of the restored Republic and, briefly, Supreme Chancellor. The Empire falls into the Republic just as the Republic did into the Empire, shepherded by almost two thousand anxious senators in the place of a raving megalomaniac.
For Leia, however, the Empire dies in one bright explosion. The rest is just cleaning up.
(7) Obi-Wan Kenobi is the only Jedi Leia knows.
Oh, she knows about them, of course. Everybody does, and all the more so now, when there are so few of them. Yet for all their increased stature, they have even less to do with the galaxy than they once did. If General Kenobi weren't the liaison between the Jedi Order and the Republic, and a particular friend of her father's, she probably wouldn't know him either.
Still, Leia likes him. He is always very kind to her, and he tells her things, interesting things. She just wishes he didn't seem so guilty about it.
(6) Leia is nine years old when she first hears the name Skywalker.
She gets a decided feeling that neither General Kenobi, who came to Alderaan in person to talk about whoever-it-is, nor Father, who spits the name out like it tastes bad, meant her to hear it. But it's not eavesdropping when they know she's there, and if they're going to be so obviously secretive they should expect her to pay attention.
Leia stares at her book but listens avidly, forcing herself to turn the pages at appropriate moments.
“ - confirmed sighting,” General Kenobi is saying.
“Confirmed?” echoes Father. “Then it is certain?”
“As certain as it can be, with him. Jedi Vuthren saw a young man answering the description, accompanied by a small boy.”
“He has the child?”
“Undoubtedly. Although he fled before Vuthren had a chance to investigate, the team discovered used vaporators, several pieces of child's clothing, and abundant signs of Force usage.”
Leia doesn't understand much of this, but she understands that this man Skywalker has managed to confuse and frighten both General Kenobi, who's a Master Jedi and a war hero, and her father, who isn't afraid of anything. She supposes she ought to be afraid too, but -
Well, she just isn't, even when she hears of more and more sightings. Apparently he has all the daring and ingenuity of a dozen HoloNet smuggler sidekicks, and none of the smuggling.
People see him but they never find him. He has the same mystical powers as the Jedi and flies a starship like nobody's business. He pays bounty hunters to bring children to the Temple. And he's always always two steps ahead of the Republic and the Jedi.
Leia isn't afraid. She's impressed.
(5) Leia shouldn't be fascinated by Luke Skywalker.
Perhaps he's got special powers and a life of nonstop adventure with his swashbuckling father - Leia suppresses a twinge of envy - but he's still just a little boy. Four? Five? Much younger than she is, anyway, and not even a prince.
She doesn't know what he looks like. She doesn't know what he's like, just that he's Anakin Skywalker's son. Sometimes Father and Obi-Wan Kenobi talk about him, but she never catches much beyond “Luke” and “who can know” and “she would have - ” She can't even creep closer, because one or the other always glances at Leia as soon as the boy's name is mentioned.
They look worried, she thinks, but also guilty. It's one thing from General Kenobi - he always seems guilty about something - but not her father. He doesn't keep secrets from her, not important ones, and he definitely doesn't just change the subject when she asks questions.
Leia's eyes narrow. They're keeping something from her, she just knows it. And she's going to find out what it is.
(4) Leia is disappointed when Anakin Skywalker turns himself in.
Ordinary criminals do that, of course, when they don't have anywhere left to run. Embezzlers, thieves, other low sorts. Skywalker is anything but low. When it comes down to it, Leia has never even thought of him as a criminal. How could she? He's a renegade Jedi who rescues war orphans. He's practically a hero.
She has always imagined that the Republic and the Jedi would finally hunt him down. After a glorious battle, he would lose tragically against impossible odds. It would be more dramatic if he died, but they'd probably just drag him back to Coruscant in chains. And even then he'd spit in their faces, because he's not some pathetic smuggler, but hero of the Clone Wars, Jedi rebel, space pirate. He's Anakin Skywalker.
But in reality, he doesn't fight at all. He just gives himself up, handing his lightsabre and his son and his starship over to the Jedi, and -
His son. General Kenobi didn't even try to lower his voice when he told them that Luke Skywalker was in the Temple now, that he was going to be trained as a Jedi.
A real hero would sacrifice himself for his son. Even if it meant a boring, embarrassingly bloodless surrender.
Leia smiles, relieved, and wonders if it would be terribly impolite to ask Skywalker for his autograph.
(3) Leia's idol is Senator Amidala of Naboo. She was a heroine, a martyr of the old Republic, a strong, intelligent woman, a loyal and principled senator. And she did amazing things with a blaster.
Someday, Leia promises herself, she's going to be just like her, only with more practical clothes and less make-up.
By fifteen, that childish dream isn't quite so distant as it once seemed. Leia is no longer just Viceroy-Senator Organa's plucky daughter, but Princess Leia of Alderaan, one of the shining stars of the new generation. She's already made her voice heard, and everybody believes that she'll be a senator herself before she's twenty-five.
So does Leia.
On the tenth anniversary of the Empire's end, the viceroy summons her to his study.
“Yes, Father?” says Leia, her mind still at the targeting range. The problem is that the practice droids are too predictable. Real enemies wouldn't -
Without preamble, he says, “I want to talk to you about your mother.”
All thoughts of blasters and droids flee her mind. Leia wets her lips. “My mother? You mean - ”
“Your natural mother,” he amends. “Padmé.”
“Was that her name?” Leia asks, eyes widening. “I don't remember.”
“You would be more familiar with her name, and costumes, of state.” He fiddles with the holoprojector, and a flickering image comes to life: Amidala, exquisitely coiffed and robed, her face painted in the then-current fashion of Naboo. Leia moves her lips, but no sound comes out.
“She was Padmé Naberrie Amidala,” he tells her, “Senator of Naboo, and a very dear friend.”
Leia stares at the hologram.
“I miss her,” she says.
(2) When Leia is seventeen, she casually asks, “Did Mother ever marry?”
Senator Organa stumbles, wine sloshing inside his glass. “Of course she did,” he says, recovering himself with an easy smile. “She married me.”
Leia, however, is too quick not to see his alarm at the question. Her eyes narrow, but she contents herself with saying, “I meant Senator Amidala. I know she didn't marry my - her lover, but she lived for five years after that. I couldn't find anything in the public records.”
“Padmé was - ” he pauses, then says carefully, “yes, she did. It was not an appropriate match for either of them, so the marriage was kept secret. Only a select few of us ever knew that it had happened; your mother and I, General Kenobi, the handmaidens, and of course Padmé and . . . her husband.”
“Is he still alive?” Leia asks, leaning forward eagerly. She is hungry for every scrap of information about her mother - she always has been, and the revelation of her identity has only whetted Leia's appetite. “Do you know where he is? I am sure he could tell me about her.”
“No!”
She stares at him.
“They were only married about a year,” Organa says, calming his voice. “I doubt there is very much he could tell you.”
Leia's grin is more than a little self-satisfied. “So he is alive.”
She dredges up every holoreport which so much as mentions Amidala or Padmé Naberrie, hunts down every tabloid rumour, but there's nothing. Whatever happened, Padmé's friends - or enemies - covered it up well. Still, nothing could be that well concealed, least of all a secret marriage. There would be some sign, some hint, something.
Leia pores over the holos she's managed to find. Padmé is almost always pictured with her friends in the Senate: Father, Mon Mothma, even on occasion the Emperor. Palpatine and Amidala of the Naboo, a caption reads, and Leia hastily shuts it down, her breath coming fast. She wouldn't have - not Mother -
But no. It couldn't have been anyone in the Senate; why would she have needed to hide that?
It was not an appropriate match, Father had said, distaste all but leaking out of his voice. He's not a snob; if Padmé and her husband really loved each other, it would take more than political differences to provoke his disapproval. This man, whoever he was, must have been beyond the pale. A slave? Or perhaps he wasn't human at all. If he were a non-humanoid sentient, like a - a Dug or a Hutt or -
How would that even work?
She firmly closes her mind on that thought, and returns to the holos. If Padmé ever so much as glanced at another lifeform, Leia will find it. Somehow. Eventually.
She yawns, leaning on her hand as she watches youthful versions of her father and Chancellor Mothma talking earnestly to a still younger Senator Amidala. As always, Padmé's omnipresent Jedi protectors trail after her, while minor dignitaries flit this way and that in the background.
That's why General Kenobi knew about it. He was always there, or that apprentice of his. Maybe I should just ask him the next time he comes.
Leia, gazing sleepily at the Jedi, almost stumbles across her epiphany.
She's been assuming all along that the marriage was kept secret for Padmé's sake alone, that the obstacles to the match were conquered by Padmé alone. But Father never said that. He said - she doesn't remember exactly, but something like the marriage was inappropriate for both of them.
Both of them.
For whom could Padmé Amidala, one-time Queen of Naboo and then Galactic Senator, possibly be inappropriate? No, it was much more likely to have been some kind of inter-species . . . thing.
Leia glances back at Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice. They may be Jedi, but they're much better-looking than -
Jedi.
Jedi aren't allowed to marry - not anyone, not ever. Padmé's status would just make it worse.
“Oh, no,” Leia whispers aloud.
At the time, General Kenobi was what, thirty-five? He could have - but no, it's impossible. Not Kenobi, who is quite possibly the most sexless creature Leia has ever encountered. Besides, Father mentioned him in addition to Padmé's husband. Unless he was lying, it must be someone else.
Leia's eyes fall to the apprentice, a tall, blond young man.
Almost a boy, really. He's definitely younger than Amidala -- very young and very handsome and very, very forbidden.
Within twenty-four hours, Leia has sent a message to Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Forgive me, General, she says, smiling apologetically. I don't mean to be an inconvenience, but I'm trying to find my stepfather - I need to ask him about my mother. It must sound ridiculous, but I'm almost certain he was a Jedi. I think he probably used to be your apprentice. I'll understand, however, if there's some code that prevents you from telling me his name. If that's the case, please let me know and I'll keep looking until I find him. Thank you very much.
(1) In the end, Leia does get Anakin Skywalker's autograph.
General Kenobi responds to her holo-message with commendable haste. He doesn't give her his wayward apprentice's name, of course - she never thought he would. Still, her ploy is rewarded by his careful explanation that he cannot tell her anything without speaking to the man in question.
Pleased with her own ingenuity, Leia waits impatiently for further communications. She almost tumbles out of her chair when her handmaiden says that a Jedi wants to see her.
“Let him in,” whispers Leia, standing to face the window.
After a few moments, she hears the door open and shut.
“General Kenobi,” she says, smoothing her sleeve, “I - ”
Her mouth drops open. The man before her is certainly a Jedi - at least he's dressed like a Jedi - and he has a lightsabre. Did they give it back? How did he -
Leia snaps her mouth shut. “You must be Jedi . . . Skywalker.”
“You must be Padmé's girl,” he returns, smiling a little.
“I'm Leia - ” Naberrie, she feels a strange desire to say - “Organa, of Alderaan.”
“It is a pleasure, your Highness. I have been given to understand by my master - my former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi - that you wish to make certain enquiries of me.”
In his quiet, resonant voice, this statement somehow sounds perfectly normal.
“Yes, I - oh, please, sit down.” She gestures impatiently at a chair and he complies, his smile deepening. “I - I think you're my stepfather?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he says agreeably.
Leia scowls. “You were married to Padmé Amidala, the senator for Naboo?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, she was my mother, so you are, manner or no manner. Can you tell me about her?”
For a long moment, he simply looks at her. Then he says, “Yes. She would want - you have a right to know. Well, we knew each other for many years before our marriage. I was nine years old when we met. What do you wish to hear about?”
“Everything,” says Leia. “I can send for water, if you need it.”
At that, he laughs outright. “How very kind -- and practical, too. You are certainly your mother's daughter.”
“Did she tell you about me?”
“No.” He glances away. “I . . . likely would not have understood. I was very young, and by the time of our marriage, somewhat less than perfectly rational.”
“I can believe that,” Leia says, remembering the palace exploding before her eyes. The Republic discovered afterwards that nobody was actually inside. He just wanted to destroy it. “How long have you known, then?”
Would you have ever told me anything, if I hadn't come looking for you?
A shadow flickers across his face and is instantly repressed. “Since yesterday,” he says, “when Obi-Wan deigned to inform me of your existence.”
Leia is satisfied. She listens to his stories of her mother with absorption bordering on reverence, committing every word to heart and meeting even Skywalker's exacting ideas of what is due to his wife's memory. He talks until his vocal cords all but stage a rebellion.
“You're exactly what I always thought you were,” Leia informs him, and leaving him with no doubt but that this is an enormous compliment, holds out her datapad. “Would you mind autographing this? I've wanted to ask since I was a little girl.”
“The honour is mine,” croaks the Jedi, and signs his name, Anakin Skywalker, with all the flamboyance at his disposal.
Leia beams.
Anyway! Thoughts on the rest of the OT:
-- the "Luke No, I am your father" scene is every bit as amazing as I remembered. Again, I've heard complaints about Mark Hamill's acting, but it works for me. If my superpowered cyborg archnemesis had cornered me, pwned me in a duel, chopped off my hand, and then informed me that he was my father and he'd really like to take out our common enemy and have some family togetherness time, do you know what would be the first thing out of my mouth?
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," that's what.
-- another great one is the scene between the Emperor and Vader, which has way more of an impact on a rewatching. The Emperor is all "it's Anakin Skywalker's son! [subtext: not yours, because you're Vader, not that wimp Anakin Skywalker. and therefore you have NO FEELINGS WHATSOEVER for his offspring. who, in case you've forgotten in the last thirty seconds, is NOT YOURS.]" And Vader replies with something along the lines of, "he's just a boy," which on a first watching can be taken as "meh, he's too weak to be a danger to us" but obviously really means "ack! don't hurt him! he's too little for this!"
Everyone together: aww.
-- I had completely forgotten about Lando Calrissian. He's... I don't know if he's awesome or not, but he's one of the more interesting characters. However, he's also the only POC I remember seeing in the entire trilogy aliens don't count). I'm vaguely unsettled that he's such a thoroughgoing turncoat.
-- Yoda turning over to avoid the subject was... partly funny, and partly ... I don't know. I'm completely in sympathy with Luke's indignation with the old school Jedi ("FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW?!" LOL) and suspect he's a better Jedi than all of them.
-- SPEAKING OF WHOM, the rescue was suitably epic. I mean, Leia choking Jabba with her own slave chain and blind!Han carrying on regardless were very cool. But it's Han and Leia. I expect nothing less.
Somehow I did not expect Luke frigging Skywalker to stroll in and make his way to Jabba by Force-choking the guards. No, really. His father would be proud. (The Skywalkers seem strong believers in Force-choke diplomacy.) And he apparently doesn't even touch the Dark Side to do it.
(... which kind of makes sense. I mean, the Dark Side is all about rage and hatred and so on, and Luke feels nothing whatsoever about Jabba's random jerkass guards. However, doesn't that imply that some sociopathic Light Side-user could go around mass-murdering or whatever?)
Then killing the Sarlacc, jumping off the board, wielding his new lightsabre like nobody's business and feeding a few dozen enemies to that really gross monster -- to be digested over the course of a millennium? Holy crap. He's like... light!Vader. All the awesome and the intensity and the "screw with me/mine and I will CRUSH YOUR WINDPIPE WITH THE POWER OF MY MIND" and very little of the evil.
-- and then, the end. I nearly cried again -- I actually did cry when I was fourteen, partly because I'm a wuss, and partly because I have mile-wide daddy issues.
To whit: my father disappeared when I was two years old. He was royally screwed over during his own childhood (his problems only began with his mother drinking heavily throughout her pregnancy). When I was a teenager, he got indicted by a grand jury; he's still serving probation. I take after him in both looks and temperament and random habits, making him less 'my father the jerkass' than an omnipresent spectre of dark!me. I also love him, for reasons which defy human understanding and certainly mine.
So yes, for me, Star Wars is less about the epic fantasy (er, I mean sci-fi. yes, sci-fi...) than ... this dysfunctional family with superpowers in space. The father's done horrible things and they're on opposite sides of the law war, but they love each other anyway, and when push comes to shove, the father's willing to sacrifice everything because it's his child.
It's this lovely fantasy of a father who, like mine, is kind of a monster, and kind of pitiable in his utter misery, also like mine, and who moves heaven and earth (er, so to speak) to interact with his child and keep him alive. Unlike mine: if somebody gets in the way of my safety or my relationship with my father, he ... writes a note, maybe, a few months after the fact. If somebody gets in the way of Luke's safety or Vader's (messed up, but sincere!) attempts to bond with him, they get strangled or blown up. It's strangely heartwarming in a completely insane way.
When it comes to paternal commitment, Vader > Dad.
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Title: Ten Facts About Leia Organa
Fandom: Star Wars
Fanverse: The 'verse wherein Anakin saves the infant Luke from the Emperor and therefore survives his redemption and other stuff happens.
Blurb: Leia exists in this 'verse. And channels her inner fangirl.
Major Characters: Leia Organa, Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Length: Somehow, even longer than Luke's. But still a one-shot.
Warning: My extremely casual approach to SW canon continues. And somehow Luke and Leia never interact AT ALL, even though getting them into the same room was kind of the whole point.
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(10) Bail Organa is Leia's father.
Oh, she knows he is not her natural father. That much is public knowledge, and he has never made the slightest attempt to conceal it from her. It simply doesn't matter. He has brought her up as his daughter - supported her, educated her, loved her. In every way that counts, he is her father.
(9) The Queen of Alderaan was not Leia's mother.
Perhaps it would be different if she could remember her, if she had seen the queen in something other than royal portraits or Father's treasured holos, but she doesn't and she hasn't. Instead Leia remembers a different woman, solemn and beautiful, with a kind smile and her own dark eyes and pale oval face.
The lady always seemed impossibly splendid at first. Then she would hold out her arms, her face lighting up when Leia ran to her, and clutch the princess' small body to her for a moment. After she and Father discussed Important Senate Business, she would take Leia out into the garden and talk to her - not in the silly way that most grown-ups talk to children, either, but seriously. It always seemed as if she wanted nothing more than to hear about Leia's day and Leia's life and Leia's childish victories and grievances.
Perhaps she didn't.
Then she would vanish, returning after a few months with sadder eyes and fewer smiles (and a bigger belly, but even then, Leia knew better than to mention that). She doted upon Leia with an increasingly desperate adoration, and then one day she left and didn't come back.
Father must have explained that she died, but Leia doesn't remember it. She doesn't remember anything, except being afraid, and feeling that everyone else was afraid too, and missing the lady.
Mother, she thinks now, and wishes she knew her name.
(8) Leia is five years old when she sees the Empire die.
She's in the schoolroom, too frightened to concentrate on her lesson and covering the fear with impatience, as she always does. Her tutor scolds her - she sticks out her lower lip, glaring out the window - and the palace lights on fire.
There's more than that, of course: the first nervous queries after the Emperor and Lord Vader, the early days when the Senate rushes to take up the reins of government (again), her father's role as chief architect of the restored Republic and, briefly, Supreme Chancellor. The Empire falls into the Republic just as the Republic did into the Empire, shepherded by almost two thousand anxious senators in the place of a raving megalomaniac.
For Leia, however, the Empire dies in one bright explosion. The rest is just cleaning up.
(7) Obi-Wan Kenobi is the only Jedi Leia knows.
Oh, she knows about them, of course. Everybody does, and all the more so now, when there are so few of them. Yet for all their increased stature, they have even less to do with the galaxy than they once did. If General Kenobi weren't the liaison between the Jedi Order and the Republic, and a particular friend of her father's, she probably wouldn't know him either.
Still, Leia likes him. He is always very kind to her, and he tells her things, interesting things. She just wishes he didn't seem so guilty about it.
(6) Leia is nine years old when she first hears the name Skywalker.
She gets a decided feeling that neither General Kenobi, who came to Alderaan in person to talk about whoever-it-is, nor Father, who spits the name out like it tastes bad, meant her to hear it. But it's not eavesdropping when they know she's there, and if they're going to be so obviously secretive they should expect her to pay attention.
Leia stares at her book but listens avidly, forcing herself to turn the pages at appropriate moments.
“ - confirmed sighting,” General Kenobi is saying.
“Confirmed?” echoes Father. “Then it is certain?”
“As certain as it can be, with him. Jedi Vuthren saw a young man answering the description, accompanied by a small boy.”
“He has the child?”
“Undoubtedly. Although he fled before Vuthren had a chance to investigate, the team discovered used vaporators, several pieces of child's clothing, and abundant signs of Force usage.”
Leia doesn't understand much of this, but she understands that this man Skywalker has managed to confuse and frighten both General Kenobi, who's a Master Jedi and a war hero, and her father, who isn't afraid of anything. She supposes she ought to be afraid too, but -
Well, she just isn't, even when she hears of more and more sightings. Apparently he has all the daring and ingenuity of a dozen HoloNet smuggler sidekicks, and none of the smuggling.
People see him but they never find him. He has the same mystical powers as the Jedi and flies a starship like nobody's business. He pays bounty hunters to bring children to the Temple. And he's always always two steps ahead of the Republic and the Jedi.
Leia isn't afraid. She's impressed.
(5) Leia shouldn't be fascinated by Luke Skywalker.
Perhaps he's got special powers and a life of nonstop adventure with his swashbuckling father - Leia suppresses a twinge of envy - but he's still just a little boy. Four? Five? Much younger than she is, anyway, and not even a prince.
She doesn't know what he looks like. She doesn't know what he's like, just that he's Anakin Skywalker's son. Sometimes Father and Obi-Wan Kenobi talk about him, but she never catches much beyond “Luke” and “who can know” and “she would have - ” She can't even creep closer, because one or the other always glances at Leia as soon as the boy's name is mentioned.
They look worried, she thinks, but also guilty. It's one thing from General Kenobi - he always seems guilty about something - but not her father. He doesn't keep secrets from her, not important ones, and he definitely doesn't just change the subject when she asks questions.
Leia's eyes narrow. They're keeping something from her, she just knows it. And she's going to find out what it is.
(4) Leia is disappointed when Anakin Skywalker turns himself in.
Ordinary criminals do that, of course, when they don't have anywhere left to run. Embezzlers, thieves, other low sorts. Skywalker is anything but low. When it comes down to it, Leia has never even thought of him as a criminal. How could she? He's a renegade Jedi who rescues war orphans. He's practically a hero.
She has always imagined that the Republic and the Jedi would finally hunt him down. After a glorious battle, he would lose tragically against impossible odds. It would be more dramatic if he died, but they'd probably just drag him back to Coruscant in chains. And even then he'd spit in their faces, because he's not some pathetic smuggler, but hero of the Clone Wars, Jedi rebel, space pirate. He's Anakin Skywalker.
But in reality, he doesn't fight at all. He just gives himself up, handing his lightsabre and his son and his starship over to the Jedi, and -
His son. General Kenobi didn't even try to lower his voice when he told them that Luke Skywalker was in the Temple now, that he was going to be trained as a Jedi.
A real hero would sacrifice himself for his son. Even if it meant a boring, embarrassingly bloodless surrender.
Leia smiles, relieved, and wonders if it would be terribly impolite to ask Skywalker for his autograph.
(3) Leia's idol is Senator Amidala of Naboo. She was a heroine, a martyr of the old Republic, a strong, intelligent woman, a loyal and principled senator. And she did amazing things with a blaster.
Someday, Leia promises herself, she's going to be just like her, only with more practical clothes and less make-up.
By fifteen, that childish dream isn't quite so distant as it once seemed. Leia is no longer just Viceroy-Senator Organa's plucky daughter, but Princess Leia of Alderaan, one of the shining stars of the new generation. She's already made her voice heard, and everybody believes that she'll be a senator herself before she's twenty-five.
So does Leia.
On the tenth anniversary of the Empire's end, the viceroy summons her to his study.
“Yes, Father?” says Leia, her mind still at the targeting range. The problem is that the practice droids are too predictable. Real enemies wouldn't -
Without preamble, he says, “I want to talk to you about your mother.”
All thoughts of blasters and droids flee her mind. Leia wets her lips. “My mother? You mean - ”
“Your natural mother,” he amends. “Padmé.”
“Was that her name?” Leia asks, eyes widening. “I don't remember.”
“You would be more familiar with her name, and costumes, of state.” He fiddles with the holoprojector, and a flickering image comes to life: Amidala, exquisitely coiffed and robed, her face painted in the then-current fashion of Naboo. Leia moves her lips, but no sound comes out.
“She was Padmé Naberrie Amidala,” he tells her, “Senator of Naboo, and a very dear friend.”
Leia stares at the hologram.
“I miss her,” she says.
(2) When Leia is seventeen, she casually asks, “Did Mother ever marry?”
Senator Organa stumbles, wine sloshing inside his glass. “Of course she did,” he says, recovering himself with an easy smile. “She married me.”
Leia, however, is too quick not to see his alarm at the question. Her eyes narrow, but she contents herself with saying, “I meant Senator Amidala. I know she didn't marry my - her lover, but she lived for five years after that. I couldn't find anything in the public records.”
“Padmé was - ” he pauses, then says carefully, “yes, she did. It was not an appropriate match for either of them, so the marriage was kept secret. Only a select few of us ever knew that it had happened; your mother and I, General Kenobi, the handmaidens, and of course Padmé and . . . her husband.”
“Is he still alive?” Leia asks, leaning forward eagerly. She is hungry for every scrap of information about her mother - she always has been, and the revelation of her identity has only whetted Leia's appetite. “Do you know where he is? I am sure he could tell me about her.”
“No!”
She stares at him.
“They were only married about a year,” Organa says, calming his voice. “I doubt there is very much he could tell you.”
Leia's grin is more than a little self-satisfied. “So he is alive.”
She dredges up every holoreport which so much as mentions Amidala or Padmé Naberrie, hunts down every tabloid rumour, but there's nothing. Whatever happened, Padmé's friends - or enemies - covered it up well. Still, nothing could be that well concealed, least of all a secret marriage. There would be some sign, some hint, something.
Leia pores over the holos she's managed to find. Padmé is almost always pictured with her friends in the Senate: Father, Mon Mothma, even on occasion the Emperor. Palpatine and Amidala of the Naboo, a caption reads, and Leia hastily shuts it down, her breath coming fast. She wouldn't have - not Mother -
But no. It couldn't have been anyone in the Senate; why would she have needed to hide that?
It was not an appropriate match, Father had said, distaste all but leaking out of his voice. He's not a snob; if Padmé and her husband really loved each other, it would take more than political differences to provoke his disapproval. This man, whoever he was, must have been beyond the pale. A slave? Or perhaps he wasn't human at all. If he were a non-humanoid sentient, like a - a Dug or a Hutt or -
How would that even work?
She firmly closes her mind on that thought, and returns to the holos. If Padmé ever so much as glanced at another lifeform, Leia will find it. Somehow. Eventually.
She yawns, leaning on her hand as she watches youthful versions of her father and Chancellor Mothma talking earnestly to a still younger Senator Amidala. As always, Padmé's omnipresent Jedi protectors trail after her, while minor dignitaries flit this way and that in the background.
That's why General Kenobi knew about it. He was always there, or that apprentice of his. Maybe I should just ask him the next time he comes.
Leia, gazing sleepily at the Jedi, almost stumbles across her epiphany.
She's been assuming all along that the marriage was kept secret for Padmé's sake alone, that the obstacles to the match were conquered by Padmé alone. But Father never said that. He said - she doesn't remember exactly, but something like the marriage was inappropriate for both of them.
Both of them.
For whom could Padmé Amidala, one-time Queen of Naboo and then Galactic Senator, possibly be inappropriate? No, it was much more likely to have been some kind of inter-species . . . thing.
Leia glances back at Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice. They may be Jedi, but they're much better-looking than -
Jedi.
Jedi aren't allowed to marry - not anyone, not ever. Padmé's status would just make it worse.
“Oh, no,” Leia whispers aloud.
At the time, General Kenobi was what, thirty-five? He could have - but no, it's impossible. Not Kenobi, who is quite possibly the most sexless creature Leia has ever encountered. Besides, Father mentioned him in addition to Padmé's husband. Unless he was lying, it must be someone else.
Leia's eyes fall to the apprentice, a tall, blond young man.
Almost a boy, really. He's definitely younger than Amidala -- very young and very handsome and very, very forbidden.
Within twenty-four hours, Leia has sent a message to Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Forgive me, General, she says, smiling apologetically. I don't mean to be an inconvenience, but I'm trying to find my stepfather - I need to ask him about my mother. It must sound ridiculous, but I'm almost certain he was a Jedi. I think he probably used to be your apprentice. I'll understand, however, if there's some code that prevents you from telling me his name. If that's the case, please let me know and I'll keep looking until I find him. Thank you very much.
(1) In the end, Leia does get Anakin Skywalker's autograph.
General Kenobi responds to her holo-message with commendable haste. He doesn't give her his wayward apprentice's name, of course - she never thought he would. Still, her ploy is rewarded by his careful explanation that he cannot tell her anything without speaking to the man in question.
Pleased with her own ingenuity, Leia waits impatiently for further communications. She almost tumbles out of her chair when her handmaiden says that a Jedi wants to see her.
“Let him in,” whispers Leia, standing to face the window.
After a few moments, she hears the door open and shut.
“General Kenobi,” she says, smoothing her sleeve, “I - ”
Her mouth drops open. The man before her is certainly a Jedi - at least he's dressed like a Jedi - and he has a lightsabre. Did they give it back? How did he -
Leia snaps her mouth shut. “You must be Jedi . . . Skywalker.”
“You must be Padmé's girl,” he returns, smiling a little.
“I'm Leia - ” Naberrie, she feels a strange desire to say - “Organa, of Alderaan.”
“It is a pleasure, your Highness. I have been given to understand by my master - my former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi - that you wish to make certain enquiries of me.”
In his quiet, resonant voice, this statement somehow sounds perfectly normal.
“Yes, I - oh, please, sit down.” She gestures impatiently at a chair and he complies, his smile deepening. “I - I think you're my stepfather?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he says agreeably.
Leia scowls. “You were married to Padmé Amidala, the senator for Naboo?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, she was my mother, so you are, manner or no manner. Can you tell me about her?”
For a long moment, he simply looks at her. Then he says, “Yes. She would want - you have a right to know. Well, we knew each other for many years before our marriage. I was nine years old when we met. What do you wish to hear about?”
“Everything,” says Leia. “I can send for water, if you need it.”
At that, he laughs outright. “How very kind -- and practical, too. You are certainly your mother's daughter.”
“Did she tell you about me?”
“No.” He glances away. “I . . . likely would not have understood. I was very young, and by the time of our marriage, somewhat less than perfectly rational.”
“I can believe that,” Leia says, remembering the palace exploding before her eyes. The Republic discovered afterwards that nobody was actually inside. He just wanted to destroy it. “How long have you known, then?”
Would you have ever told me anything, if I hadn't come looking for you?
A shadow flickers across his face and is instantly repressed. “Since yesterday,” he says, “when Obi-Wan deigned to inform me of your existence.”
Leia is satisfied. She listens to his stories of her mother with absorption bordering on reverence, committing every word to heart and meeting even Skywalker's exacting ideas of what is due to his wife's memory. He talks until his vocal cords all but stage a rebellion.
“You're exactly what I always thought you were,” Leia informs him, and leaving him with no doubt but that this is an enormous compliment, holds out her datapad. “Would you mind autographing this? I've wanted to ask since I was a little girl.”
“The honour is mine,” croaks the Jedi, and signs his name, Anakin Skywalker, with all the flamboyance at his disposal.
Leia beams.