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“Why do you keep torturing me? Will you never leave me alone?”
Leia shook her head as soon as she felt his presence; refusing to even look at him. The swirling, semi physical manifestation of her biological father. The man who had been second only to the Emperor in life; who had been the towering, menacing Darth Vader. Known for uncountable atrocities, to which could be added genocide and infanticide.
She knew he had supposedly been redeemed, Luke had told her as much. Had told her he’d been right, that there had been good left in Vader. But, after having watched him stand back and let Tarkin destroy Alderaan in one fell swoop - along with her real parents, Bail and Breha Organa - she didn’t want to forgive him.
Luke had, she knew that. Luke had made peace with their shared parentage, and she loved her twin brother dearly. Was thankful for learning the truth about their connection. Yet, she knew Luke could rationalize the influence of the Dark Side on their father, but while he had gotten through to the man he called Anakin; Leia stubbornly refused.
“I hate you,” she whispered, jaw clenched and her hands balled into fists.
“I know.”
Still, when Leia finally gave in to the overpowering urge to look at him - he didn’t look like Vader.
There was no tar black durasteel suit, no hollowed out face plate. No chest monitor, no domed helmet. No reflective lenses covering his eyes; no armour, no gloves, no cape. Vader looked like Leia imagined the man he’d once been had, the man who had fathered her.
Shaggy, shoulder length golden curls. Tall though less so than she was used to, an insecure expression to his youthful face. Was this the visage Luke had seen?
No, Luke had described an older man. Before death; crippled, disfigured but with pale blue, gentle eyes. Had described their father’s Force ghost as a tall, graying middle aged man with a warm smile. The ghost before Leia had the same piercing blue eyes, pleading silently with her. A pathetic inquiry of forgiveness, one he would never dare speak aloud. One she abruptly denied.
But he was so young. Seemed so vulnerable, and so innocent and lost. It made Leia livid, the fact that he had the guts to show himself to her in such a manner. She’d have rather seen Imperial enforcer Darth Vader, mask and all.
At least, she’d have been familiar with that presentation. It was easy to loathe, and easy to blame. Easy to fix her rage on. This foreign man, who didn’t appear much older than herself, was pitiful. Made her feel compassion towards him, despite what he had done to her. To her loved ones. To the Galaxy.
“Why did you come?” Leia finally breathed, turning away to reign her emotions back in. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“I know,” he said again, his voice soft spoken - nothing like Vader’s booming vocoder.
“Do you never give up?” she huffed, but received no immediate reply.
Vader hadn’t spoken the past couple of times he’d appeared before her. She’d immediately dismissed him then, making it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Hadn’t spared him as much as a glance, once she was made aware of his fluttering signature in the Force. Sometimes, she wished Luke hadn’t taught her how to use that ability.
But she was curious, somewhere beneath her disdain. There were so many things she wanted to know. Most of all, how it was possible for somebody so highly regarded to sink so low. She’d been told the stories of Anakin Skywalker, her real father Bail Organa had praised him often. But how could anybody justify murdering thousands upon thousands of innocents? How could anybody trudge on with so much blood on their hands, unfazed? How could she ever make peace with them being related, being family?
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Leia.”
His voice was sad, mournful and forlorn. Even Leia could tell it was genuine in its remorse, in its regret. She bit her lip. The way in which he spoke her name held such tenderness, as if it meant the world to him. As if he had been longing to utter it, longing to give it the reverence it deserved.
“I won’t.”
He nodded, his shoulders sagging slightly. At least he wasn’t going to pressure her. That was something, and Leia felt some of her tension pour off of her. At least she wasn’t expected to just let go of her bitterness, the way Luke had managed. She wasn’t expected to be as inviting and indulgent as her brother.
The scowl on her face a tad less harsh; Leia peered back at Vader’s stature. His arms limp at his sides, soft springy curls across his forehead while he kept his head low. There was a clear resemblance to Luke. She could see the similarities; the jaw line, the dimpled chin, the lips, the nose. Luke, who was sweet, and kind, and benevolent. Luke who was ferocious, brave, and impossible to break.
Luke; who had believed in Vader when Leia herself would not.
“I always thought you would be a girl.”
“What?” Leia asked, suspicion clouding her doe eyes and her high pitched tone giving away her confusion and surprise.
“I was sure we were having a daughter. Your mother, and I. She disagreed. She was convinced we were having a son. In the end, we were both right.”
Leia opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her throat suddenly closing, her chest feeling tight and restrictive.
For a fleeting moment, she could sense the excitement. Memories of the past - his past - from before he became Darth Vader. Before he became the Emperor’s right hand man. From when he was a bright eyed, well willing youngster. Lost, unable to cope with his own emotions. Unable to face the world and its struggles.
And there was a visual recollection playing out before Leia’s mind’s eye. Of this man; her father, holding a dark haired woman close to his chest. The woman was visibly pregnant; sporting the same pale skinned and dark eyed complex as Leia herself. The woman was beautiful, and petite; placing a frail little hand over her own baby bump. Stroking it fondly, so full of hope and reverence.
Padmé.
Mother.
“She wanted to name our son Luke. I wanted to name our daughter Leia.”
Flinching, Leia felt the pressure in her rib cage intensify. She didn’t want to look at him, could hardly bear the tone to his voice. It was laced with guilt, heavy with the burden of what he had done in life. Of shame.
“All I ever wanted was to save her - to save you,” he whispered.
“It doesn’t change anything. Not what you did, not who you are.”
“I know.”
“You are Darth Vader,” Leia retorted with conviction. “You know nothing.”
“No. I am Anakin Skywalker. I always was, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself,” said Vader. “I knew nothing. Now, I understand everything, and it’s such a heavy burden to carry.”
He sounded defeated, and for a brief moment; Leia felt bad.
She didn’t want to pity him, didn’t want to sympathize with him. But his face, so young yet so weary and weathered - as if he had lived a million lives in one single life time - made it a grueling task to resist. The way he pursed his lips, reminding her of herself when nervous, or under pressure.
She didn’t want to see any resemblance.
From what little Leia had overheard of Luke speaking to Obi Wan’s spirit, she already knew she had inherited most of her personality from Vader. Initially it had terrified her, made her wonder if she was capable of the same cruelty. But, when she’d eventually had to ask Luke outright, he’d only giving her positive response. The Anakin Obi Wan had known, had been a good friend. A brother. A good man; loyal and reliable. Stubborn, impulsive, brash - but loving.
“Has Luke told you why I turned? Why I made so many mistakes?”
Vader spoke after a long, uncomfortable silence that made the atmosphere thick and the air heavy to breathe. Part of Leia wished he’d have kept his mouth shut, but another part was thankful for the initiative he’d taken.
“Yes. To save our mother. And us, like you said.”
He nodded, and now he seemed to be the one unable to look her in the eye.
“Yes. I saw Force visions, in my dreams. Telling me that your mother was going to die in childbirth. I’d had the same dreams of my own mother, of her dying. And she did, before I could save her.”
“You were afraid.”
“Yes, very. I didn’t know how to be a father, or how the Order would take it. But I wanted you, I did. And I wanted you to live, as well as your mother. I didn’t think I could live without her. I didn’t know that I would be the catalyst, I thought I was saving her… until it was too late. If I could change the past, I would. There are so many things I would like to undo.”
Grimacing, Leia furrowed her brow and folded her arms across his chest. She had heard all of this before, but hearing it come from him was fresh. The impact, the impression was much more powerful.
Leia had never imagined Darth Vader would be capable of emotional outbursts, or that he would care about anyone but himself. Now, something told her that despite Vader’s childish selfishness - his intentions had always been good firsthand. He’d failed everyone he’d cared for, he’d committed heinous crimes. It wasn’t an excuse, but somewhere deep down she understood. He’d been a desperate man, seeking any possible way out.
She too, had committed sins she was ashamed of admitting to - all in the name of the greater good.
“Luke told me. He told me you would want to make amends,” she finally responded. “He told me you regretted everything you’ve done. I didn’t believe him.”
“I’m sorry, for everything, Leia. I’m sorry I couldn’t save your mother, I’m sorry for the despicable things I did to you. To Han. To Luke. To the Galaxy. I regret everything, I regret not being able to give us a second chance. To prove myself to you. I regret being unable to be the father you deserve. And I’m glad somebody else had the opportunity to offer that security, when I couldn’t”
Leia blinked a couple of times, taking in what he had said. She could feel the wetness pooling at the corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose feeling warm.
There was something about Vader’s pained, stricken blue eyes. They appeared to be glassy, as if they too were watering. Could ghosts cry? Was the infamous Darth Vader about to cry in front of her? Was this who her father really was? A wayward, broken down shell who had caved under the pressure of his own making?
Leia found she didn’t want to know; a sodden weight dropping into the pit of her belly. Idly, she picked as her fingers; anything to distract herself. To stay calm, and collected. To restrain the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. It wasn’t like her to get sentimental, especially not over someone like Vader.
“I know,” it was her turn to say. “But I can’t forgive you. Not now.”
Another nod; Vader didn’t push it any further.
A solemn ambiance coming over them; serene almost. Still, for the first time, Leia found she was doubting her own judgment. Just because she had made what she felt was the right decision, perhaps it was Luke who was the wiser of them. She couldn’t imagine she’d ever allow herself to be put in the position Vader had. She didn’t think it possible, but she could never know for sure. And it did mellow her heart, if only an ounce.
“Luke sees something in you that I can’t see.”
“I understand.”
He was flickering, as if fading from view. Leia wanted to leave it at that, but something inside of her refused to budge. Something was telling her she couldn’t leave it at that, couldn’t let it remain unresolved. Albeit hesitant, she spoke. The way her heart was begging her to; before he was gone.
Before he disappeared, and she wouldn’t know when - or if - she might see him again. They were bound by blood, despite Leia wishing it wasn’t the case. And she wanted to believe Luke knew best, that Luke’s kind heart; his compassion, had been the right option.
“I can’t forgive you now, but… one day, I’m convinced I’ll have the strength. That I can manage what Luke has. One day.”
“Then, I will wait patiently for that one day, my daughter,” said Vader; and the weak lopsided smile he offered before his form evaporated etched itself into Leia’s memory.
She had her father’s smile.
And she knew then, that there was no Vader. There had never been a Vader. Just like Luke had so fervently been attempting to persuade her. There was only Anakin.
Anakin Skywalker.
Her father.