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Chapter Text

Not that much changed when Luke and Leia first presented.

They still played with the other kids. They still roamed the dunes. They still conspired to steal the family speeder and race through the canyons.

It was just that scents were more overwhelming, and Leia got angry faster, and Luke started crying more.

When they presented, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru sat them down and explained that their father was an Alpha. They had no idea what designation the twins’ mother was, but because their father, at least, had had a designation, the twins had inherited it.

Or rather, Leia had inherited it.

Luke was an Omega.

He had to wear perfume to cover his scent, but he still went to school with Leia. Their aunt and uncle said his designation wouldn’t be a problem until he got older, and he would have to either go on suppressants or drop out of school then. Leia just had to keep her temper in check. Uncle Owen gave her breathing exercises and told her not to get in fights.

Everything did change when they started using the Force.

It wasn’t anything dangerous! Luke and Leia could practically read each others’ thoughts anyway already; now they were just better at it, and didn’t have to talk out loud, which was handy when Luke got picked on at school and called Wormie when Leia wasn’t around. They didn’t even get caught until Leia floated him a hydrospanner when they were working on a vaporator out in the Wastes with Uncle Owen.

After a terse conversation he and his sister had been sternly told not to listen to, Aunt Beru took the speeder out somewhere. Uncle Owen set the two of them to helping with dinner and refused to say where Aunt Beru went. 

In the kitchen, Leia put voice to Luke’s thoughts. “Are we in trouble?” 

Uncle Owen sighed and put down the kitchen knife. Running his hand over his face, he turned to face them. “No,” he said, looking each in the eye in turn. “You’re not in trouble. But you could be in danger. That stuff you do, lifting things without touching them, sensing others’ emotions? That could get you killed.”

“By Jabba?” Luke asked. The slug was an ever-present threat hanging over their heads. More so since Luke presented.

“By the Empire. And anyone looking to cash in the bounty. It’s illegal to have those kinds of powers.”

“Why?” Leia demanded. “That’s stupid. We just have them. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You don’t need to ask why, you just need to keep your head down.” Uncle Owen was gruff. “Now start peeling protatoes.”

It wasn’t until hours later that Aunt Beru reappeared with Old Ben of all people. Luke and Leia looked up from the dishes they were washing in unison, and Uncle Owen sighed again.

“Beru back, then?”

“Yes,” Leia said. “And she brought Old Ben.” She wrinkled her nose. “I thought you hated him!”

“We don’t hate him, Leia, just…he’s dangerous.”

“Like us,” Luke realized, eyes widening.

Uncle Owen sighed again.

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Luke laid against his aunt’s side. She gently traced his arm with one finger in a repetitive motion, attentive to Obi-Wan, who stood in front of the small family. Leia sat next to her uncle, sitting straight, hands on her lap, as if to demonstrate how closely she was listening. Owen looked at him shrewdly.

“Tell us again what you’re proposing,” Owen said.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, centering himself. The twins looked at him curiously, clearly picking up the slight shift in the Force from him doing so. He gave them a small smile and began. “The twins have inherited several things from their parents. Their designations, of course, but the Force, as well. They are powerful—” He saw Luke and Leia puff up with pride and his heart ached. Anakin had been proud of himself, too, when he first came to the Temple and found out all he could do. “—but that can quickly become a danger if they aren’t careful. The law technically states that Jedi are outlawed, but I don’t think most Imperial authorities know the difference between a Jedi and an untrained Force-sensitive. I need to teach them how to shield.”

“I thought training them was too dangerous,” Beru said.

Obi-Wan bowed in acknowledgement. “That was when they were younger, and had not discovered the Force for themselves. Now they have. And together, they have a very loud presence. Plus, there is the danger you came to me for, the risk of them showing their powers in front of others accidentally.”

“Do we have to leave home?” Luke asked.

“That would be safest, I think. I brought you here so that distance could hide you from the Empire, but there is nothing here to hide you in the Force. There is a place called Dagobah that has enough creatures that can touch the Force that the two of you would be cloaked. The Sith would never find you there.”

“What’s a Sith?” Leia asked.

“What’s Dagobah like?” Owen asked at the same time.

“A Sith is one that uses the dark side of the Force, for greed and evil.”

“Like the Hutts!” Luke interjected.

“Quite so, young one. And may we all be glad that the Hutts do not contain any Force-sensitivity, or perhaps they might be Sith indeed.”

“And Dagobah?”

Obi-Wan turned to address Owen. “A swampy planet. Hot, like Tatooine, but with much more moisture, plants, and creatures. There is another Jedi master that lives there, Yoda, who will help me with the twins and help all of us in adjusting to the new planet.”

Luke and Leia’s eyes were wide at the mention of water and plants. Leia glanced quickly between her uncle and Obi-Wan, who could feel her excitement, and her unsurety that her uncle would let her and her brother go.

Owen harumphed. “And I suppose this Yoda has been there since the rise of the Empire?”

“Yes. As I have been here.”

“Will there be other children there?” Beru asked.

“Ah, no. I’m afraid Dagobah is even further from the Core than here, and quite uninhabited. But, we would only need to remain there until they have enough training to cloak themselves.”

Beru looked at each of the twins in turn. “What do you think, darlings? Would you be alright there with just Old Ben and this Yoda?”

“What’s Yoda like?” Luke asked, reaching up to hold his aunt’s hand without looking. She squeezed his back and held it.

Now Obi-Wan was able to smile for real. “He is quite short, of a long-lived species, and in the Temple he delighted in pulling pranks on the other masters with the children. He is one of the very best teachers, and has much experience.” Obi-Wan’s heart ached at the thought of Yoda cackling in the brightly-lit halls with a clump of younglings laughing around him. Truly, he had no idea what to expect on Dagobah. Yoda had a comm, for emergencies only, that Obi-Wan would have to contact him with on their way, but…it had been a long, difficult twelve years. Dagobah was very different from the Temple. Even with the two of them, they would not be able to provide the twins with the same education that a Jedi youngling should have. Nor the same community, the same safety.

“I think it would be alright,” Luke said. He sat up and leaned over to see his sister. “Lei?”

“If Luke’s going, I’m going,” Leia said decidedly. The twins grinned at each other. “We stick together, no matter what.” She turned back to Obi-Wan, and he saw a familiar glint in her eye, the same one that in Anakin spelled trouble. “Besides, I want to learn what the Force can do!”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan bit his lip, staring at the little blinking blips on the scanners.

An Imperial blockade.

Right through a major hyperlane.

There was no way to avoid it.

Or the deadly, painfully-familiar cold spot that sat just outside his perception, right in the middle of it all.

He cast his awareness behind him. The twins were playing together again, tossing a small ball back and forth with the Force. Their presences were…slightly more contained, after his brief shielding lesson, but the resulting brightness from their exercise was still all too visible.

He thought quickly. He could tell them to settle down, stop playing, focus on shielding, but the slightest slip in that focus would leave them vulnerable to the Sith’s senses. Obi-Wan himself shielding all three presences, himself and the twins, would leave him without the focus required to talk his way out of the search he could see other ships getting tractored in for.

Sighing, he put the ship on autopilot for the moment and went to the galley.

There was one other solution he could think of.

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“Drink this.”

“What is it?” Luke peered curiously into the glass Ben handed him. It looked like watery milk, but…white.

Leia accepted a glass as well, brows wrinkling.

“It will make you go to sleep, so that it is easier to cloak your presences in the Force. We’re going into Imperial territory for a little bit, and it would be very difficult for me to pilot while also shielding myself and the both of you. Vader—”

“What if we shielded ourselves?” Leia asked. Demanded, really.

Old Ben smiled and ruffled her hair. She let him, still looking up in question. “If you had had more training, youngling, or it was not so dangerous, I would gladly let you have the practice. But if Lord Vader senses us, I’m afraid that would be the end of your Jedi training.”

“I’ll drink it,” Luke said. Even Uncle Owen had trusted Old Ben with them; besides, anything was better than capture by the Empire. Luke lifted the glass to his lips and drank. It was cool and sweet on his tongue. At the first swallow, his toes felt tingly and numb, hollow. Like he was standing on air, or soft static. A few more gulps, and the feeling crept up, up, up, until he couldn’t feel his legs. He drank the rest quickly, not liking the feeling. As soon as the last drop passed his lips, he collapsed into warm arms, unable to hold himself up without feeling. The plastic cup fell from numb hands. His head felt swirly and light—everything did. He reached for Leia, but she felt so far away.

He was vaguely aware of being laid gently on the floor, something soft set under his head, then he floated away and knew no more.

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Leia shivered as she felt Luke’s light wink out behind Ben’s projected shielding. Her brother looked so young, laying on the floor, and unnerving without his light. Her brain said he wasn’t there, but her eyes insisted he was. It was giving her a headache.

Ben straightened. “Your turn, my dear.”

She nodded determinedly. She wanted to become a Jedi, like her father. Not some pawn of Vader’s, an Inquisitor.

Leia practically chugged the glass, then dropped it as her legs gave out underneath her. She was out before she hit the floor.

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Obi-Wan carefully concealed his own and the two sleeping presences behind him, and let out a deep breath. His hands flexed on the steering yolk, angling the ship into the line of others with a calmness he was trying hard to feel.

He’d settled the twins on the floor of a storage closet, hidden under blankets that would hopefully help to muffle their scents. A toolbox propped the blanket up enough to keep it off their faces so they could breathe easily. He’d had to tear himself away from watching their chests rise and fall, force himself to get back into the pilot’s chair.

They were going to be fine.

Like this, Luke and Leia were easy to shield. It reminded him of carrying them to Tatooine as babies. A far different time. Back then, the Empire and the pain of loss were both new. Obi-Wan had no idea what he would find when he got to Tatooine, only that the Lars were Anakin’s only living relatives—and the sand-covered planet was the absolute last place that his old padawan would look. If necessary, Obi-Wan was prepared to raise the twins himself…alone. He hadn’t thought himself up to the task—when had he last volunteered in the creche, with the war?—but if there was no other option, he would do it.

The twins deserved that.

Product of an attachment or not, these were the children of his padawan. Practically his grandchildren; and wasn’t that a strange thought. Obi-Wan loved them from the moment he held them in his arms, felt their presences in the Force, heard the names that Padmé and Anakin had picked out. Luke sounded like it was from Tatooine. Obi-Wan assumed that Padmé had chosen Leia.

Oh, Padmé, if you could see them now. Half-grown, and just as bright as their father—

The crackle of the comm shook him out of his thoughts.

“Ghtroc 690, identify yourself and state your purpose.”

Obi-Wan pressed the button to respond. “My name is Jek Martin, and my ship is the Hummingbird. Just trying to get back to my wife on Ryndellia in time for her birthday.”

“Any passengers?” Luckily, the Imperial officer sounded bored.

“No. I’m traveling by myself.”

“Won’t mind a scan, then, will you? There’s been some Rebel activity near Naboo recently. Can’t be too careful these days.”

Obi-Wan cursed internally. He should have chosen a planet further along the hyperspace route. Ryndellia was right next to Naboo; it probably sounded suspicious. Well, it was too late now. He pressed the comm again.

“As long as it’s a quick scan. Jella would get worried if I was held up for too long.”

“Turn off your engines, we’re pulling you in. Scanners can’t get a good read from all the way over there.”

No.

Reluctantly, he powered off the ship. To do otherwise would result in the same end, with much more suspicion on him. The lights went off one by one, leaving him in darkness. Even the hum of the engines under his feet stilled. Complete silence rose up in its wake. Anxiously, he checked on the twins again, then pulled back. They were fine. And they were going to be fine. He needed to focus now.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sank into the Force. The ship jolted underneath him as the tractor beam locked on and began pulling them in. He ignored it. Instead, he bent the Force around the twins, concealing even their heartbeats. It would fool a low-powered scanner, or an ordinary stormtrooper—at least, any ordinary stormtrooper he’d encountered on Tatooine—but it would not conceal them should the Sith look. Hopefully, it would give the Sith no reason to look.

The Force shimmered, an unnatural spot where the twins were concealed. Obi-Wan smoothed it out, wove the shield back into the Living Force around it. There. Only a Jedi—or Sith, his mind unhelpfully added—would be able to tell now. Only someone who knew that there was something to look for.

He fingered his lightsaber in its holster at his side, a small comfort. Truly, he should pack it away before the Hummingbird was pulled into the Star Destroyer, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. Twelve years in the dunes of Tatooine had done him no favors. If he had to fight, and something in the Force made him suspect that he would, he wanted his lightsaber close at hand.

Chapter Text

The ship jolted under him as it landed. Obi-Wan worried about the toolbox keeping the blanket away from the twins’ faces, but here in this hangar, the chill of the dark side was stark. He shored up his shields, nearly blocking out the Force with the strength of them. It would not be safe to reach back for the twins now. He just had to trust that they were safe.

That he had done well enough for them.

He rose from the pilot’s seat and opened the boarding ramp before anyone could order him to. The faster he got this over with, the faster they could get settled on Dagobah. There, he would not have to worry about Hutts or the Empire.

Obi-Wan met a Lieutenant at the bottom of the ramp.

He folded his arms into his Tatooine robes, projecting nonchalance and calm. “Are you able to complete the scan now?”

The Lieutenant’s face was hard. “Lord Vader will be completing the inspection personally.”

Obi-Wan froze.

Darth Vader.

Screams on the shore of a lava flow ten years past echoed in his head. A sense of betrayal that ripped the Force apart—that tore the bond he’d had with his padawan to shreds.

Had he truly been so preoccupied, so out of practice, so blind that he had missed the origin of that burning cold?

“I have been waiting for you, Obi-Wan.” Vader’s voice was mechanical and raspy as he strode toward him, trailed by a squadron of stormtroopers in crisply polished armor, the pauses punctuated with the sound of his respirator. It hurt Obi-Wan’s heart. What had he done to his padawan, twelve years ago? He had not been strong enough to give Anakin the mercy of death…now this was what he had become. “We met again at last. The circle is now complete. When I left you I was but the learner. Now I am the Master.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, hands clasped together tightly in his sleeves. “Anakin—”

“That,” Vader growled, “is not my name. I see that we have both changed in the years since you left me. You are a pathetic old man. It shows in the Force.” To the stormtroopers, he commanded, “Bind his hands.”

What Anakin—Vader—felt was the hidden effort Obi-Wan was expending to keep the twins safe. It was good that he didn’t—or couldn’t—tell. Obi-Wan imagined that he did feel dimmed in the Force. Hopefully that meant that Vader would underestimate him.

He knew that Vader, having caught him, would not let him go.

Anakin was possessive at the best of times.

A stormtrooper came forward and roughly yanked Obi-Wan’s hands out of his sleeves, locking them in cold metal. Obi-Wan let them. What point was there in resisting? The moment Anakin—Vader—cut him down, he would feel the twins, and then it would all be over. The most Obi-Wan could hope for now was to delay Anakin, and keep the focus on himself. Anything else would have to be figured out later.

Perhaps one of the twins would awaken after Obi-Wan had been taken to a cell, and pilot the ship to freedom. They’d survived threading the Needle, after all…

Anakin circled him. The cold followed, wrapping around Obi-Wan like creeping, thorned vines. Obi-Wan held back a hiss and shored up his shields.

“Where have you been hiding, old man?”

One of the twins—Leia—stirred. Obi-Wan spent a precious moment pushing her gently back into sleep. It was not yet time. In doing so, his shields slipped.

The metaphysical vines tightened around him.

“What are you hiding, Kenobi?” Vader hissed.

Obi-Wan straightened. Fixed his face in the calm, unwavering Jedi mask he had worn on countless battlefields during the Clone Wars. “What would I have left to hide, Darth? The Republic, the Jedi, they are all gone. Because of you. You were meant to be the Chosen One—”

“No,” Vader interrupted. His masked gaze drifted to the Hummingbird.

He swept past Obi-Wan, nearly knocking him over with his shoulder on the way, moving forward like a rock.

“Wait! There’s nothing in there!”

Vader paused. Turned his head back just slightly. Just enough for the red of his lenses to glint in the light. “Then you will have no objections to my investigation, Kenobi. ” To the surrounding stormtroopers, he said, “Hold him here. Ensure that he does not move from that spot.”

.

.

.

Vader opened the vents on his mask—he only wore it for show, and to hide his former identity—and inhaled. Anger flared immediately.

Scent did not lie.

These were his children.

Reverently, he lifted the helmet from his head with a pneumonic hiss and set it on the floor next to the crumpled blanket, kneeling aside the sleeping boy. He took the boy’s wrist in his hand and lifted it to his nose. Honey and apple blossom. Sweet…an omega. Were he a lesser man, tears would have sprung to his eyes. Padmé, did you know? Instead, he kissed the delicate wrist and set it down to reach over for the boy’s sister. She smelled of pine and nutmeg, with the stark scent of an alpha. He kissed her wrist, too, and set it down gently.

He, a Dark Lord of the Sith, knelt on the floor, recycled air cool on his bare face, golden eyes looking down at the two children, and knew.

This was the happiest day of his life.

And the last of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s.

.

.

.

Vader walked out of the hangar with a child over each shoulder, held securely with an arm around each of their backs. Behind him, stormtroopers scrambled to clean up the body.

They will need rooms, Vader mused. And beds. Helmet once more on, he could not simply lean over and kiss the girl’s hair. He settled for sending a gentle tide of love to her in the Force. She was too far asleep to really register it. 

What had Kenobi done to his children? Rage flared, but he quickly smothered it. It would not do for either child to wake just yet. Kenobi had one thing right; his children were far easier to manage like this. For now. Once he had them settled, secure far away from prying eyes, he would welcome anything they threw at him. Questions, obstinacy, worry, joy, wonder.

He had been denied twelve years of being a father.

He would not be denied any more.

Chapter Text

To say that Vader expected a warm welcome from his children would be…disingenuous. Having presumably been raised by that rat Kenobi, it was logical to assume that they would not take completely kindly to awaking with Kenobi gone, and in the hands of a strange, Sith alpha.

But this…

He held Luke in his arms, his son’s little body lax as Vader absently stroked his hair, surveying the destruction his children had wrought in a mere five minutes. Both cots, hastily brought into the spare room of his chambers for them, were overturned. One was broken, frame smashed against the wall. Splinters lay scattered around it, presumably to be used as weapons. The blankets had been flung away. Both pillows were serving as makeshift shields around the ball of anger crouched behind the unbroken cot—his alphean daughter. The scent of pine was sharp around her, but Vader brushed it off easily. He took a step forward, just beyond her little fort, and it grew sharper. Luke whimpered in his arms, fists curling around Vader’s cloak, sending out the calming scent of apple blossoms seemingly on instinct. Vader shushed him gently, running his hand down Luke’s hair again. He sent feelings of calm down the burgeoning parental bond with his son. The boy whined, burying his face deeper into the crook of his father’s neck, then quieted. Distress tainted his scent.

“You are upsetting your brother, young one,” Vader said. He wished he had taken off his helmet before returning to their room, but he had run in without time for thought, drawn by the explosion of the Force. “I would advise you to regain control of yourself.”

“Give him back!” the girl shouted. Her little face was scrunched up with anger, as was her scent. “You have no right!”

“On the contrary, young one. I have every right.” It was Kenobi who had had no right. None to take his children from his wife’s arms. None to keep them from him. None to attempt to poison them with Jedi ways.

But it was all being rectified now.

The girl’s anger turned to question, just as fierce. But her scent lessened. “What do you mean?”

Vader crouched down to her level. Luke stirred, head lolling as he searched for his sister. The girl watched him with suspicion as he slowly set her brother down on the floor. Luke blinked harshly, swaying where he sat, his back to the girl. His entire body moved, flopping, when he tilted his head, looking up at his father. Vader smiled behind his mask at the endearing sight.

Still moving slowly so as not to startle either of them, Vader pulled his mask off. Both children’s scents as well as that of the recycled air became clearer before it was even completely off. Luke melted a little more as the scent of adult alpha—of his father—flooded the room. The girl stiffened.

He pulled off a glove, too, and made his scent as calming as possible as his extended his bare hand towards her.

“I am your father,” Vader said softly, his voice smoother without the vocoder distorting it. “Smell it. Feel it in the Force.”

Two bright presences, one clumsier than the other, shakily surrounded him. He reached back, enveloping both.

Hello, young ones.

“Whazzat?” Luke slurred. His efforts to get his body to obey him again were adorable. Blinking harshly, frowning, trying to sit up straight with muscles that refused him. Perhaps Vader had been…a little overzealous, with gentling the boy, but it had been a hurried endeavor, with both children fighting him. Only by gentling Luke had Vader been able to stop the chaos and prevent both of them from running for the door. But he had learned the boy’s name, Luke, when the girl shouted it as Luke was scooped into Vader’s arms.

Besides, he was utterly adorable like this.

“Communication through the Force. I will teach you how to do it.”

“We already know the Force,” the girl said, glaring at him. Her gaze flickered between Vader and Luke, clearly itching to grab Luke and shelter him in the fort with her.

“I see,” Vader said with amusement, pointedly surveying the room. “You are both clearly gifted with it. But I doubt that you know everything there is to know. I will teach you…provided that you behave. There is no need to fight like this.”

“You gentled Luke!” Her scent grew sharp again. Luke finally turned—and just barely managed to catch himself with one hand to stay upright—and started scooting towards her. She reached over the barrier of the cot, desperation and fear leaching into her angry posturing.

Vader scooped Luke into his arms again before they could connect.

“A necessity. You would not have stopped fighting me if I had not.” Vader buried his nose in Luke’s hair and inhaled his sweet scent. It was heavenly. This close to Vader without the helmet, Luke settled again, all too easily. A spike of worry went through Vader. Had the boy never been gentled before? Never been around an alpha aside from his sister? True, Vader had not been around omegas in a long time, but he was fairly certain that they were not supposed to be this easy to subdue, even with gentling, even by his father.

Kenobi, a beta, was not fit to raise his children for a million reasons. This was just yet another.

But then…perhaps Luke simply recognized his father, and felt safe. After all, they were his children. It was only natural for them to feel safe with him. And who knew what horrors they had endured in their childhoods up until now? What comforts they had been denied?

“What is your name, young one?” Vader asked the girl.

She crossed her arms. “Give Luke back and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Vader chuckled. Luke made a small noise, giggling wetly, clearly overwhelmed by the Force and scent of his father so close and intense. Vader rubbed the boy’s back soothingly.

“Do not attempt to escape again. It will not work,” Vader warned, standing once more. The girl’s gaze followed him up, up, up, worry finally overtaking her mask of anger.

He leaned over and set Luke beside her behind the cot. She immediately pulled Luke into her lap and examined his face, tapping his shoulder frantically. Luke’s eyelids fluttered and he reached a weak hand for her. She grabbed it and held it against her chest.

“Luke? Are you okay? Can you understand me?”

“Your name, child.”

She glanced back at Vader. And hesitated.

Vader reached for Luke again.

“Leia,” she said hurriedly, turning Luke away from him. “My name’s Leia.”

“Leia,” Vader tasted the shape of it with his mouth. The lioness, it meant in huttesse.

“Lei,” Luke said.

Lukka meant light in Naboo. Padmé had chosen it.

Padmé, did you know how wonderful our children are? Did you get to see them at all?

“Are you okay?” Leia asked again. Her scent dipped into staticky worry.

“‘s okay,” Luke said, closing his eyes. “‘m okay. ‘m okay. E’rythin’s jus’ fiiiine. ‘m floatin’, Lei.”

“He will be fine. This is one of the natural states for an omega. With some rest, he will be more awake,” Vader said. “But I need you both to not fight me. You will not win, and I have no wish to keep you separated, but I will if I have to, to keep the peace. You belong here, with me.”

Leia glanced up at him, then back to Luke. Her worry intensified. “I’ll—we’ll be good. Promise.” She hugged Luke, who returned the embrace with soft contentment. He began to purr, softly.

“Good.” Vader stood. “Are you hungry? I will have whatever you wish delivered. As well as new beds.”

He would need clothes for them, eventually, too… The desert rags they had on would not suffice. As his children, they would be Imperial Prince and Princess; they would be clothed in the finest fabrics. Soft for Luke. Whatever Leia wanted. Sidious wore nothing to indicate his station—the throne that he rarely left, his recognizable face, his aura of absolute power, his alphean scent, did that for him—but perhaps the children could wear crowns of some sort…

Leia was whispering quickly to Luke, whose face was now tucked into her shoulder. If they were communicating through the Force as well, it was difficult to discern past their shields.

Their shields were not strong enough that Vader could not push past them with even a little effort, through the burgeoning parental bond, but for now, Vader merely glowed with pride. Shielding was the first step to mastery of the Force. And it would keep them safe from Sidious, until Vader could take care of the Emperor himself.

Soon, he would teach them everything.

Soon, they would have everything.

As they always should have.

Vader held his arms out for Luke. The boy would not be able to walk for some time after getting gentled this much, he vaguely remembered from the omega parenting books he and Padmé had read in preparation for whoever their child turned out to be. He would have to read them again, to refresh his memory.

Leia shied away again.

“I will not hurt him, young one, and we are going to all sit at the same table,” he reassured.

Luke mumbled something bright about pallies, without moving from his sister’s embrace.

“If they are available, you may have some. Fresh fruits are not always available on a starship.”

“St’rship…” Luke said dreamily. “I love starsh’ps.”

Leia whispered to her brother again. Luke frowned. She whispered more.

“Perhaps some soup, to start. Warm, hearty soup, with bone broth and shaak meat and vegetables,” Vader said, to draw their attention back. He would need to keep a close eye on the two of them in these early days together. Luke would listen easily as long as Vader leveraged the fact that he was an alpha; it was only natural. Leia would have to be won over.

A worthy challenge.

“Lei, ‘m hungry,” Luke complained. He tried to push himself upright, and only barely succeeded, with his sister’s help. Once more he was blinking at the room, trying to make sense of it. “Where ‘r we?”

Vader took the opportunity to pick him up. Luke startled and held on tightly, clutching the edges of Vader’s armor. Leia squawked in displeasure.

“Since the two of you went immediately to attempting to escape,” Vader said, some amusement creeping back into his voice, “I did not have the opportunity to introduce you to your new surroundings. We are on my flagship, the starship Executor.”

“And you’re Anakin,” Leia said. She had yet to move from behind the cot.

Rage flared for a moment before Vader got control of himself. Luke squirmed in his arms, and he held on tighter, trying to remember to not gentle the boy again. He wanted to have them both checked over by a physician after their meal, and it would be difficult for the physician to do so if Luke was unable to hold himself up or respond coherently.

“That,” Vader managed to say evenly, with strangled effort, “is no longer my name.”

“If you’re our father, then your name is Anakin Skywalker!” Her fists were balled, and at last she stood.

Stars, he did not want to fight with his children. He had been denied them for twelve years; now that he had them, he did not want to lose them while they were right in front of him.

“Yes, that is the name that I was born with. But none know me by that name now—”

“Why?”

“It was a different time. I was a different man. Now, I am known as Darth Vader, or Lord Vader. You will be Leia Vader.”

“‘m Luke Skywalker,” Luke mumbled. “Firs’ generation born free.”

Vader’s heart seized.

“Perhaps…in private,” he allowed, kissing Luke’s hair. “As I am sure you are aware, the Jedi are banned. As is all mention of them. The wider galaxy knows Skywalker as a Jedi name. It is…safer for you to be known as Vader. Now come. I will show you how to work the menu so that you may order what you wish.”

Chapter Text

Luke drifted on soft clouds in his father’s arms, swaying with the motion of him walking. The scent of sandalwood and honey was powerful here, lulling him into further softness.

As soon as he and Leia had awoken, unable to feel Master Ben, surrounded by the faint scent of an unfamiliar alpha, they’d sprung into action. For all their practice levitating things with the Force, though, they were unable to pick the lock on the door of the bare durasteel room before the strange alpha himself barged in with a cold fog of power. In seconds, that cold fog had surrounded Luke like a rope and hauled him into the man’s arms, shouting. There, the scent, still faint, was more potent, and something in it felt like belonging. Like family. The man had massaged Luke’s scent gland on the side of his neck with two gloved fingers and Luke’s legs had gone weak. A warm feeling spread through his body, drowning him in sugar-spun clouds of contentment that dissolved his ability to think beyond alpha. Luke had purred, nose turning towards the smell of sandalwood. He lost track of Leia.

Until she screamed his name.

Luke had chirruped a questioning noise, seeking his sister, but another circle of those fingers on his scent gland had the clouds swallowing him further. It was hard to pay attention, after that. He’d vaguely caught something about their father, and the Force pulsed with the answer—a recognition, at last, of the man holding him.

Anakin.

Luke never wanted to do anything else from the moment he finally, finally was able to smell his father properly. The scent was sandalwood and honey, and with it the clouds in Luke’s mind thickened, surrounding him like the softest of nests.

Was this what he’d been missing all his life? What he’d stayed up past sundown for, watching each sun vanish beyond the horizon and stars rise in the darkening sky, waiting? For his father?

He was too floaty now to miss anything.

Now, his father sat down, arranging Luke comfortably against him on his lap. Luke laid his head on his father’s shoulder again as soon as he could, mouth open as he inhaled that comforting scent. He didn’t even care if he drooled on his father’s armor.

“Luke?” The word, said out loud and in the Force at the same time, drew his attention toward the rest of the galaxy. “What would you like to eat?”

“Ea’?” It was difficult to form words. His body didn’t want to cooperate, just to melt into his father’s embrace. His tongue felt thick in his mouth.

His father ran a gentle finger down the center of Luke’s face. Luke scrunched up his nose and opened his eyes. His father’s blurry face smiled down on him, haloed by wavy brown hair. Everything beyond his father was too blurry to make out more than light and shadow.

And yet somehow, Luke couldn’t bring himself to care.

He started purring again at the sight of his father, a smile overtaking his face. “Papa.”

“My little angel.” His father traced over the curve of Luke’s nose again. “How do you feel about a smoothie?”

“M’kay.”

Luke drifted, still smiling, content to ride whatever peaceful, contented feeling this was. It was better even than the Force. Than his sister.

His sister…

“Here is the menu, Leia. You may order anything that you wish.”

Luke was jostled as his father used one arm to hand something off to a blurry figure. The Force penetrated his peace with a familiar anxiety and restlessness.

There was the sound of tapping on a datapad. “Where’s the soups?”

“Allow me to show you.” Luke was jostled again, and this time a new face was brought into view. Leia. Luke chirruped happily and reached out for her.

Her blurry face was concerned, but she reached back. They intertwined their fingers, a tangled constellation between them and their father.

“Here,” Papa said. “Press the order button when you are finished, and a droid will bring it.”

Luke lost track of time again as his father carded his fingers through Luke’s hair. Luke’s hand slipped out of Leia’s. He loved it when Aunt Beru petted his hair like this, but when Papa did it, it brought those sweet sugar-spun clouds that were so nice. There was nothing like those clouds on Tatooine. Back home, there was very little that was soft. Coarse sand got into everything, ruining even well-worn blankets, sneaking its way into even his shoes. The Force was like the desert, big and open, with only the occasional blip of life. Leia was the loudest, then Old—Master Ben, then whoever was nearest. Most people on Tatooine weren’t nice. Heck, even Camie and Fixer, who they hung out with, weren’t that nice…not like his father, who was holding him. Safe and secure.

Eventually, there was a straw brought to his lips, and Papa said to drink. Luke did. It was a cold, thick drink, sweet with berries, and—

“Pallies,” Luke said.

His father chuckled. “Yes, young one. It has yogurt, honey, pallies, and berries.”

Luke took another sip. The cold was starting to clear his head. He already missed the depths of the soft feeling, where nothing mattered, but as he came back to real awareness, he realized that his sister thought something was wrong. And Leia was usually right.

He sat up. The world was still blurry—and gray, which he vaguely remembered from when he and Leia first woke up. Where were they, again? Papa—his father had said something, but it had been very hard to listen.

“Back with us, starlight?” his father asked, cupping Luke’s face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. Luke shied away, not wanting to be drawn back into the soft feeling again.

Fear crept into his bones.

Luke looked up at the face of the man holding him. He had a long scar down one side of his face, just barely missing his eye, which was a molten gold that melted into blue around the edges, swirled like marbled metal. Totally wicked. Luke wanted to replicate that in a droid casing. The man’s hair was wavy, like his and Leia’s, but darker, like he hadn’t seen the suns in a while. His skin was likewise pale. He wore black armor that covered the rest of his body, except for his hands, which were bare.

This was his father?

His father was alive?

“Anakin?” Luke asked. He worked his jaw, sticking his tongue out and trying to regain feeling in it. He scrunched up his face and shook his head to clear the static and fuzz.

The simmering smell of an angry alpha tainted the air, but was quickly replaced with a projected neutrality. “As I told you sister, young one, I go by Lord or Darth Vader now.”

“I’m Luke Skywalker,” Luke said, remembering the earlier conversation now. He waited, frowning, for his father to contradict him.

Luckily, he didn’t. Kind of. “In private, starlight.” Ana—Vader’s tone changed. “Do you want anything else to eat? Leia, how is your soup?”

“It’s good,” she said, polite the same way she was to the teachers at school. Which was to say, the same way she would have been polite to a Hutt if they ever met face-to-face. Covering anger and distrust.

Luke probably shouldn’t stay in the man’s arms if Leia distrusted him that much. At least until Luke could determine for himself whether or not to trust their new father.

Luke tapped his father’s shoulder. “Can I sit in my own chair?”

“Are you sure you could sit upright without assistance?” Amusement was written all over his father’s face and scent. Luke blinked rapidly, trying not to smile back. It was hard. The omega in him just wanted to make his father happy, to do whatever he said. It was a lot. Especially since Luke had never felt like that before. He’d certainly never wanted to do everything Uncle Owen said—much to his uncle’s exasperation. Leia he followed around because he just wanted to, and her pull wasn’t this strong.

“I—yeah.”

“Hm. Perhaps if you are feeling so awake, then it is time to get you both checked over by a physician. Stars only know what maladies and mistreatments you suffered outside of my care. Leave the dishes, they will be taken later.” Vader stood, with Luke still in his arms. Luke squeaked in surprise and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck for balance. There, the scent of sandalwood was stronger, and he relaxed a little. It smelled like safety.

There was the sound of a chair scraping back. “Outside your care? Where were you?” Leia demanded.

Luke tried to reach out for her in the Force, but his connection to it was wobbly, like a bad holoconnection, and all he got was just as blurred as his vision. He huffed. Useless.

Luke finally peeked over his father’s shoulder. Leia, walking behind them, caught his eye and gave him a look that said, are you okay? Luke nodded. His father stroked his hair again, once, and hugged him.

Luke could smell how joyful his father was at having them. Had his father missed him and Leia as much as they missed him, even before they met? Had he been looking for them all their lives?

He didn’t have long to wonder before there was the hiss of a door opening, and a new, unfamiliar smell.

Luke hid in his father’s shoulder before he fully processed it.

“Dr. Malleolon. These are the new patients I informed you of. Luke and Leia Vader. An omega and alpha, respectively.”

“Of course, milord.” The new man’s voice, Dr. Malleolon, was very matter-of-fact. “Just a physical, for now, to assess baseline health?”

“Yes. You may begin with Leia.”

Luke peeked out again. Leia glanced at him, then hopped up onto the padded examination table as directed.

“Now, your highness, tell me: How old are you?” Dr. Malleolon asked. He was a dark-skinned human male, middle-aged, with short, dense, wavy black hair, and the scent of a beta.

Leia bit her lip before answering. “Twelve.”

“Your birthdate?”

“Empire day.”

“That’s my birthday, too,” Luke said.

The doctor noted this down. “Have you ever had any major illnesses?”

He went on to ask her about her sleep, exercise, diet, when she presented, and what planet she grew up on. At the word Tatooine, Vader grew angry again. At Luke’s whimper, though, he quickly returned to petting Luke’s hair, and started swaying gently. Luke wondered if the swaying was for his own benefit, or Vader’s; but he supposed it didn’t matter. It calmed them both down.

Soon enough, it was Luke’s turn.

“Lord Vader, if you could set him on the examination table.” Dr. Malleolon bowed.

With some reluctance, Luke was lowered onto the table. His father’s arms lingered around him, but Vader let go. Luke ran his hand over the tight, stiff weave of the table covering. It was a decent material. Would probably stand up to a sandstorm or two, make a good cover for the speeder.

Did his father have speeders here?

Wait, they were on a starship! That was so much better than a speeder!

Maybe Papa would let him help pilot it…

“I’m going to shine a light in your eyes to check your pupil reaction, alright?” Dr. Malleolon warned. Luke barely processed his words before he was blinded. He whimpered, throwing his arms up to shield himself and leaning back—right into Papa’s chest. His father held him in place. “Pupil reaction good,” the doctor muttered, scribbling on his clipboard. “Now your vital signs. Hold still.”

The doctor swept a handheld scanner over Luke. It beeped.

“Healthy, if slightly malnourished, like your sister.” Dr. Malleolon reached for Luke’s neck, hand hovering just above his scent gland. Luke pressed back against Vader’s chest, which was rumbling soothingly. “May I?” It didn’t escape him that the doctor was asking his father, not him.

“Yes.”

“No!”

Leia’s shouted protest came too late. The doctor was already rubbing circles on Luke’s scent gland, and the sugar-spun clouds were already back, rolling over him like a sandstorm of sweetness. Luke keened, leaning into the hand, purring like a loth cat.

The doctor pulled away.

Papa hugged Luke loosely from behind. Luke’s head lolled, his eyelids fluttering. Everything felt very far away.

“As I suspected from your note, my Lord. The boy is touch-starved.”

“How come I’m not?” Leia asked.

“You, your highness, are an alpha. Omegas require more physical contact to be healthy.”

“Mmmmm,” Luke protested. The sugar-spun clouds crowded out his words. His tongue felt thick, body heavy with that sweet, safe feeling. He pawed the air for an anchor. His father caught his hand and rubbed circles on it with his thumb.

“I will see to it that he gets the contact he needs,” Vader said. “Are there any other issues that I should be aware of?”

“Not at this time, no. Just make sure that they both have adequate nutrition—I will provide an outline of what that entails—and that the boy has physical contact for at least four hours per day. Co-sleeping with someone at night would also be highly beneficial.”

His father brought his other hand up to Luke’s neck and rubbed circles on his scent gland, too, and Luke lost track of the conversation entirely.

Chapter Text

A little cold spot hit Luke’s bare skin and he flinched in his father’s arms, looking around wildly. The cool wind ruffled his hair and sent the dangling end of his dress waving. Vader chuckled. He took Luke’s hand in his and held them out over the balcony, palms up.

“That was a raindrop, little one.”

“Woah,” Luke said, eyes widening. A cold spot hit his hair. Then another. Another. Another.

He watched in fascination as the cool peach stone of the balcony darkened with little droplets of water that fell from the sky. He and Leia had spent their whole lives working laboriously to pull water from the air and ground, and here on Coruscant it just…fell freely.

Luke reached his second hand out greedily, grinning. His father’s chuckle shook him. Water fell on Luke’s open palms. Drip. Drip. Drip. Like a faucet during the dry season, but everywhere! His skin sparkled with water. In some places, it gathered, forming little pools that slipped down between his fingers, into the center of his palm, running down his wrists. Curious, he lifted a hand to his mouth to see what this sky-water tasted like.

His father shifted him to free one arm and caught his wrist before he could.

“This water is not drinkable without processing, little one. On other planets, yes, but not here.”

“Oh. Okay.” That made sense. Suddenly, something else occurred to Luke. “Is Leia seeing this?”

“Hm.” 

Luke felt his father reach out in the Force and did the same. Luke found Leia first, felt her attention swing to him and then their father. Luke intertwined his signature with his twin’s, like holding hands. Leia did the same back and pulsed.

“She is in lessons right now. Indoors. But the rain is scheduled to continue for several hours yet. I will inform her tutor to bring her to a balcony to experience it.”

“Thanks,” Luke said in a small voice. He curled back in on himself, leaning his head against his father’s shoulder. The scent of sandalwood and honey filled Luke’s nostrils and calmed him even as he thought of his twin. He hadn’t seen Leia since they tried to escape their second morning on Coruscant, several days ago. It was the longest they’d ever been apart. They’d never even spent the night somewhere else. The experience of rain was soured without her.

Vader kissed his hair as more cold drops fell on both of them, making Luke’s dress wet. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold, darling.”

Once inside, Vader set him down on the deep purple chaise lounge and pulled a towel to him from the bathroom with a gesture. Luke clung to one corner of the towel as his father dried his face and arms. When Vader tried to pull it away, Luke didn’t let go.

“Oh , darling,” Vader said again. “I know it’s a lot to adjust to. But you’ll be together again as soon as your punishment is up, alright?”

Luke stubbornly kept the gathering tears from falling down his face. It was a waste of water.

Even if it fell from the sky.

---------------------------------------------

Living with Darth Vader was weird, Leia quickly decided. Rain fell from the sky on Coruscant, food appeared at the press of a button, but more than that, Vader wanted them to dress a certain way, act a certain way, and he’d separated her and her brother on the second day as soon as he realized that they were making more escape plans. Apparently their shields weren’t very good—not against the man who called himself their father.

Although, she had to admit, the evidence for his parenthood was pretty damning. Aside from his scent, which Vader informed them smelled the way it did, familiar, comforting, and commanding, was because he was their father, he also had them take a blood test. Luke had examined the droid before allowing it to process the results. He was better at droids than Leia was. The Force confirmed it all.

And made it infinitely more difficult to hide things from their newfound father. Vader refused to tell them how to sense their parent-bond to him well enough to block it off.

Anyway, while Vader had Luke, Leia was in lessons. She opened her mind to Luke as much as possible so he could learn, too—about politics, government, galactic history, literature—but all too often she sensed his end of the bond go slack. If they’d been interwinned in telepathic conversation, Leia found herself melting in her chair until the connection was dropped like a bad holosignal.

She didn’t like how often Vader felt the need to gentle Luke, but then, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had both been betas. If Luke really did need to get used to being gentled so often, if he really did need such soft fabrics and cushions to sit or kneel on, she wouldn’t know. They’d gone to school on Tatooine, but most of that was agriculture, Hutt government, and junk like the inherent inferiority of slaves. At least here when she asked questions of her tutors, she didn’t get slapped across the hands for it. And when she got distracted talking to Luke, they just tapped the table to get her attention again.

And called her your highness.

So weird.

Back home, they’d been called things like scum and Wormie. Now people bowed when they went by; or at least, when she did. Leia didn’t like it. It made her feel all kinds of off-balance. The fact that she hadn’t seen Luke in five days made everything worse. She’d never even spent more than an hour away from him before.

And the Force! It was so loud here! She wanted to cover her ears, sometimes, except she knew that wouldn’t help.

Her tutor tapped the table gently with a stylus. Leia came back to herself, blinking.

“Your highness, where do you go? And what can I do to get you to stay here with me?” Her tutor, Merielle, was smiling, but the smile was strained. Leia really had been super spacey the entire time she’d been in lessons. And who knew what Vader had said to the woman! Master Ben had been afraid of Vader, and he was a Jedi Knight. Merielle was just a regular educator. One for the upper crust of the Empire, but still.

“Sorry,” Leia said. “I just…really miss my brother.” That was the truth, if only part of it.

Merielle softened. “I understand that the two of you are quite close.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, your father informed me that your separation will not be permanent. In fact, if I remember correctly, the two of you are to be reunited within a day or two.”

Leia brightened. “Really?”

“And I imagine that if you have a good report to show him from your lessons today, that reunion could be even sooner. You have a lot of catching up to do, after all.” Leia groaned. Merielle continued, “Through no fault of your own, of course, you are exceptionally bright, your highness, but the fact does remain that your education thus far has been severely lacking. Now, long division…”

The rest of the lesson passed super slowly, but Leia made an effort to push aside the Force, including Luke and the overbearing presence of Vader, and forced herself to stay present. Math wasn’t that interesting—it was more Luke’s subject than hers—but it was necessary if she didn’t want to look like some backwards yo-kel (a new word that Marielle taught her, apparently something the other children of the Empire might call her when Vader deemed it safe for them to meet).

Eventually—finally—it was over.

Leia put down her stylus and straightened into the “regal posture” Marielle introduced yesterday. “May I be excused?”

“To where, your highness?”

Leia scowled and dropped the posture. The Hutts could do whatever they wanted! They didn’t have to answer to anybody, or pretend to be something they weren’t, or do all this “manners” and “propriety” stuff! If they wanted to do something, they just did it! And if somebody disagreed, the Hutts just killed them! Leia was called “your highness”, but she didn’t seem to have any power here; at least Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru listened to her before saying no. At least she could wander wherever she wanted to once her chores were done.

She didn’t need a kriffing escort everywhere. She wouldn’t get lost. And she wouldn’t run away, since she didn’t have Luke—admittedly the only reason she wouldn’t. Aside from the fact that she didn’t know where they kept ships here, but Luke had a second sense for machinery, she was confident that he’d be able to find them a ship faster than Vader could catch up to them.

“V—my father,” Leia grumbled, crossing her arms and averting her eyes. Merielle had been beside herself when she heard Leia call Vader Vader for the first time.

“Let me see where he is first, if he can be disturbed.” Marielle typed something into her comm. A moment later, she smiled. At the same time, a heavy, possessive cold descended on Leia and she shivered. “Lord Vader is available. Your guard will escort you to your rooms to see him.”

Leia grumbled, but allowed the guards to fall in step in front of and behind her. She felt more like a prisoner than a princess.

Luke, she repeated to herself, This is all to get Luke back.

If Luke really did need the gentling, the soft fabrics, the whatever Vader said, then fine. Leia would get them for him. Better yet, Master Ben or their aunt and uncle could! Someone who wasn’t Vader, who hadn’t participated in the Jedi purges, who didn’t think she and her twin needed to be separated. Someone who wasn’t a Hutt in fine clothing.

It was only a bit of a walk back to the rooms that comprised the Vader household. Leia managed to shake off the guards at the first room and walk herself to Vader’s office. She scanned the office hopefully, but Luke wasn’t there. She fell into a pout again.

Vader rose from his desk. He stopped short at her sullen look, which she quickly fixed into a smile.

Leia curtsied. “Father.” Vader crossed the room. He reached out a hand, perhaps to cup her face, but she flinched back, thinking of the way he could just…turn Luke’s brain off. His hand fell, face unreadable.

“You do not like me, daughter.”

Leia looked askance. She couldn’t lie; Vader would sense it. But nor could she risk everything, risk Luke, by telling the truth. She said nothing.

“I know that I have not endeared myself to you by separating you from your brother. I apologize for the angst that that has caused. I hope in the future for the two of you to prove yourselves trustworthy, that I might not resort to such a thing again. It pains me as much as it pains you and Luke, trust me.”

“I don’t!” Leia burst out. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her fingernails pressed into her skin. She knew her scent had to be pulsing anger, but without Luke there to feel it, it didn’t feel like it mattered. Marielle was a beta, as were her other tutors. Stars knew what designation her guards were, they wore helmets all the time. There was no one able to truly feel the full force of her anger.

Except Vader, another alpha.

Who was unmoved.

Vader merely nodded in the face of her rage, and, insult of insults, knelt to be at her height. “I have not lied to you, young one. Look to the Force; it is incapable of lies.”

Leia scowled, but did as she was told. She may not trust Vader, but she did trust the Force. And…it said that Vader wasn’t lying. She reached further. Vader lowered his shields and let her. He…felt pain when he saw Luke upset, when he saw Leia upset, when he felt the agony of their separation in the Force.

But nor would he be moved from thinking that he was in the right, that this was in their best interests.

Vader’s shields went back up before Leia could probe further, clumsy and angry. It was like hitting a sandstone wall.

“Your tutor tells me that you tried very hard in your lessons today. Perhaps, if you promise to behave, that means that you and Luke can dine together this evening.”

“Yes!” Leia went up on her tiptoes in excitement. “Please.” The sooner they got back together, the sooner they could—

Vader wagged a finger in her face. “If either of you seriously consider escape, I will separate you again. As much as it pains me, I will not lose you. And you need to accept that this is your home now. Luke is beginning to see that—”

“Because you gentle him all the time!”

“It helps him adjust. Omegas need different things.” Vader seemed awkward suddenly, which seemed impossible for someone so feared throughout the galaxy. “What…would help you to adjust, my daughter?”

Leia crossed her arms. “Having Luke with me. He’s my brother.”

Vader sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He almost seemed to be smiling, a fact which made Leia curious. She hadn’t actually…attempted to get to know Vader very much. He made himself easy to avoid, spending his time with Luke after banning them from seeing each other, and giving Leia a tutor to teach her. Who was this warlord, this Sith?

“I should have guessed,” Vader muttered. Turning back to her, the ghost of a smile still on his face, he asked, “What else? Perhaps I could acquire food like that you had on…Tatooine, or arrange a speeder trip, sweets, books, drawing materials.” He stopped suddenly. “How do you prefer to spend your time?”

Leia barely held back a smile of her own, a wicked one. “With my twin.”

Unexpectedly, Vader laughed. Leia’s brow knit in confusion. What did he have to laugh about? She was being uncooperative! Uncle Owen sent her to her room for being uncooperative; even Aunt Beru, a softer touch, never laughed!

Nothing on Coruscant made any kriffing sense.

“Persistent. Like your mother.”

Leia desperately wanted to know more about their mother, but she wanted Luke back more. They’d survived this long without her; Owen and Beru hadn’t known anything to tell them, and Master Ben hadn’t mentioned her, either.

Vader sighed again. “Very well. You have both been…trying. I have no wish to be cruel to either of you. Dinner will be in two hours; you may see each other then.”

“What about now?”

“Luke is taking a nap. He’s had a long day.” Fear shot through Leia. She hadn’t felt distress from Luke today—but then, he had been thoroughly gentled, and their connection dropped. What had happened to him?! Vader was quick to reassure her, “Nothing bad has happened to him. It was simply taxing to get fitted for clothes, and be introduced to his tutor. Luke is fine. Speaking of which, you need to get fitted, as well.”

Leia looked down at her clothes. They were basic, if expensive, store-bought items, a tunic and pants, shoes that pinched her feet a little.

“Why?”

“You require a wardrobe that is fitting for the Imperial Princess. Your current items do not suffice.”

She wanted to stamp her feet and turn in a circle. She wanted to run down the hall shrieking. She wanted to hide in a small corner cuddled up with Luke. She wanted her aunt’s warm arms around her. She wanted the wide-open skies and towering sandstone canyons, miles and miles between her and anyone else. She wanted to punch Vader in the face, father or not, and go find Luke.

This was all wrong. This was all so, so wrong.

She was supposed to be on Dagobah with Master Ben and the other master, with Luke, learning the Force. There was no wardrobe fitting for the Imperial Princess on a swamp planet. There was no Sith lord denying her access to the other half of her soul.

Caught between anger, fear, anxiety, longing, Leia found herself frozen.

Vader reached for her again, and this time she did not flinch away. He cupped her cheek in his leather-gloved hand. It was cool against her skin.

“Oh, my darling girl. I know it is a difficult adjustment. You will see your brother again soon, and you will become used to your new lives. I promise.” He kissed her forehead and stood, taking her small hand in his. “Now come. The sooner we get you fitted for clothes, the sooner we can get Luke up for dinner.”

Tears blurred her vision. She reached out for her twin, and found his signature easily. He was asleep, just like Vader said. She curled around him, and Luke curled around her back unconsciously.

Unseeing, Leia allowed Vader to pull her out of his office. Guards fell in step behind them.