Author's note: This story is heavily inspired by the idea from Mireilles3's story "Dear Son." I highly recommend it. Nothing of Star Wars belongs to me, though I wish it were not so. And sad to say, but updates may be infrequent due to classes and me wanting to write good quality stuff. Reviews and constructive criticism are more than welcome.
Author's note edit: I've decided to tweak some stuff, but this chapter is essentially the same. Thanks and gig 'em.
Ch. 1
Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, stared out the window of his palace and brooded. It was nearly midnight, and the usual Coruscant rains were pouring outside, matching his mood perfectly. He could see the lights of the city-planet glaring, though somewhat softened and muted by the downpour. He remembered the first time he had seen the lights and rain and how fascinated he had been, then banished the memory. That was a lifetime ago.
The man who had once been known as Anakin Skywalker's mood worsened. He hated thinking of his life before. He couldn't stand thinking of the weak fool he had been, and how slavishly he had tried to be a Jedi. The Order had failed him, and he had destroyed it for that slight. Worse than the memory of his Jedi days, though, were the memories of his mother and his wife… his robotic right hand squeezed hard enough to dent the table it rested on. Those thoughts weren't allowed. He breathed in and channeled his pain and anger to tap into the Dark Side of the Force, the true source of power in the universe. He immediately felt better.
He felt the presence of an approaching human before he heard the footsteps. Before Agent Frost could open the door, she found them opened, though the room's sole occupant was on the far side of the room. As soon as she was clear of the doors, they slammed shut. Frost shuddered minutely. The Dark Lord's telekinetic tricks were the least of his powers, but even those frightened her. She bowed and waited silently, trying to ignore the heavy noise of Vader's regulated breathing.
Beneath his mask, Vader smiled, painfully pulling at scar tissue. The woman's fear of him made him feel important and powerful again. "I assume you have found what I suspected, Agent Frost."
Frost nodded. "Yes, m'lord. This document is written in Organa's own hand. It was sent to a compromised Rebel cell two weeks ago." Frost winced inwardly as she remembered the screams of the tortured Rebels before they were able to extract the information they needed, and then steeled herself. They were anarchists, traitors to the Empire, and a cancer to society.
"Good." Vader turned his back to her and began pacing, then stopped. "You have something else on your mind, Agent?"
Frost hesitated. "M'lord, we found another document that may interest you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bloodstained letter. "We found it with one of the Rebels."
Frost tried to resist flinching backwards as Vader plucked the letter from her hand. Though she was not a short woman, the Dark Lord towered over her. The room was dark, though enough light came through the window to allow the letter to be read. Though the noise from his breath mask never altered, Frost could tell that he was as startled by the letter as she thought he would be.
Vader read through the letter once more, making sure that his eyes were not playing tricks on him. It was addressed to an unnamed recipient and signed by Bail himself. But what caught his attention were two simple sentences. I can only hope that Padme's son is doing as well as her daughter. Leia is growing up to be a fine little girl. Beneath his mask, Vader closed his eyes. He pictured Padmé on the last occasion he had seen her. His child—children—had lived. He had thought any chance of children dead after he had—
He banished the memory of the last time he'd seen Padmé, and what he had done.
"Agent Frost," he said, keeping his voice as level as possible, "you are dismissed." He paused. "Thank you."
Frost bowed and turned to leave the room, not at all surprised that the doors were open again. As she left, Vader went to his holoprojecter and pressed a button. He knelt. The familiar face of the Emperor Palpatine shimmered into existence, the old man's face showing a bit of annoyance. "The hour is late, Lord Vader. I can only assume that you have contacted me for something vitally important." Palpatine's voice was mild, and though Vader did not look up he was sure he would see purple lightening crackle through his master's eyes.
"It is indeed a matter of great importance, my master. My agents have contacted me with proof of Bail Organa's allegiance with the Rebellion." Vader hesitated. "They also have evidence that my daughter is with him."
"Daughter?" The Emperor sounded genuinely surprised. "This is indeed an important development. The child would have great potential."
"I ask your permission to raise her. She is of a young age and could be a powerful asset on our side."
Palpatine sat back on his throne. "Indeed. Very well." Vader looked up. "Tomorrow you shall personally go and take care of the Alderaanian traitor and reclaim what is yours."
"Thank you, my master." Vader bowed deeply and the Emperor's hologram cut out. The Dark Lord stood up and walked back to his window. Tomorrow, he thought, I will claim my daughter. And one day, I will find my son, as well.
The little girl hid under her bed, stifling her sobs of fear with a worn stuffed pitten. She had been sound asleep when her maid burst into the room and told her to hide, because there were bad people in the palace. So now here she was, huddled up and trying to stay silent.
She could distantly hear blasterfire and screaming. She closed her eyes and tried to shut that out. She squeezed the stuffed animal tighter as she heard the door to her room open. She knew that if she moved, she might make a noise, but she needed to see who was there. She opened her eyes and edged closer to the side of the bed and saw white booted feet. She heard a voice say "Lord Vader, we've found the girl's room" and held back a cry. What did I do? Why are they looking for me?
She held still as long as she could. But then she saw a pair of big black boots stride into the room and heard deep, scary breathing. She was reminded of a story that her daddy had told her once about a monster that stole children, and wondered now if the story was true. To her horror, the boots stopped right in front of her.
Vader could feel the fear in the air. It was the work of a moment to reach out with the Force and discover that Leia was hiding under the bed. But how to get her out? "Leia, I know that you are here, and no one is going to hurt you," he said, trying to make his voice as calm and soothing as it could be through the filters and mask. He nodded to the stormtroopers, who left the room. "I promise."
"How do you know my name?" asked the little girl before she could stop herself. Vader could hear the clap of her hand against her mouth as she realized what she had done.
"I've been looking for you. You are a very special little girl, and I've come to take you home."
Leia crawled out from under the bed, looking dirty, her face tear streaked, and clutching her stuffed animal to her fiercely. "I AM home," she said, looking scared and confused. Vader's heart ached for a moment, seeing Padme in her face.
"You may have grown up here, but your home is with me," he said, kneeling down and still towering over her. "You know that Bail Organa is not your real father, don't you?" She nodded slowly. "Did he tell you your parents were dead?" She nodded again. "He was not telling you the truth," he said, trying to sound soothing. "Your mother is dead, but your father is not."
The little girl quirked her head, her curiosity getting the better of her fear. "He isn't?"
"No," said Vader. "I am your father."
Leia took a step towards him. "Really?"
"Yes. I only found out where you were yesterday. I would have been here sooner if I had known." He reached out and wiped a smudge of dust from her face. "You look like your mother."
"That's what Daddy always says," she said automatically, and then checked herself. "Daddy Bail, I mean." She hugged her stuffed pitten to herself again. "What's going to happen to me now?"
"You will be coming to live with me. Your father was a traitor to the Empire, and he stole you and your brother from me."
"My brother?"
"Yes. You have a twin brother out there somewhere. We shall find him someday."
Leia looked down, contemplating her new situation. "What's going to happen to Daddy?"
Vader winced inwardly. He felt jealous knowing that his daughter thought of another as her father, even if he had only known about her for a handful of hours. "You will not be seeing him anymore. He betrayed his Emperor."
"Oh." Though it was only one word, and though she was quite young, Vader thought she might understand what the full implication of that was. She straightened up. "If I'm going with you, I need to take some of my things. And I can't go in a nightgown."
Vader smiled beneath the mask. "Of course." So much like Padmé, who insisted on doing the same thing when he took her back to Naboo.
He waited patiently as Leia went into her closet and came out wearing a sturdy blue dress clearly made for traveling, and holding a small backpack and her stuffed pitten. "I'm ready now." She looked up at him. "What's your name? And what am I supposed to call you?"
He looked at her and thought. No, it wouldn't do for her to know him as either Anakin Skywalker (who he no longer was) or Darth Vader. "You can call me father."
Bail Organa spat blood and knew he was going to die.
His mind accused him with every breath he took. He had made a mistake, he hadn't been smart enough, he had been overconfident, he may have hired a spy… no matter the reason, it had alerted the Empire to his involvement in the Rebellion. As a traitor, he would be tried privately (or publicly, if Palpatine was feeling particularly vindictive) and then executed. Hopefully, their trail stopped at him… belatedly, he wondered if he should've sent a message to Garm Bel Iblis or Mon Mothma to warn them, or if that would only get them captured, too.
He heard the ominous sound of a pair of boots approaching, and gave an involuntary start at the sight of Vader, which earned him a cuff on the head from one of the stormtroopers who had captured him. Bail was one of the few people who knew that Darth Vader had once been Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, husband and murderer of Senator and former Queen Padme Amidala. Bail had been at his colleague's side as she had given birth to Leia and her twin brother Luke, and had seen her die a handful of seconds later. He had never forgiven Skywalker—Vader—for that. Padme had been a friend.
"You!" he spat at Vader. "I should have known."
"You would be wise to speak when spoken to, Senator." Vader looked down at Bail, exuding contempt. The lack of his royal title only added to that.
Bail didn't correct him. "I demand to know what is going on. Why have you raided my household? My staff—"
"You are part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor."
"Prove it," spat Bail.
"Not only was a letter from you intercepted on the way to a doomed Rebel cell—" Bail winced to think of what had happened to those poor people—"but you have stolen something very personal from me."
"I have done no such thing," Bail snarled.
Vader took a step in, towering over Bail. "My daughter."
The blood drained from Bail Organa's face.
"Yes. I know. Not only did you steal her mother from me, you stole my children. You thought I would never know." Bail's heart began to race faster as his throat constricted. He was glad his wife had died a year previously, knowing she was safe from retribution by this monster. "You stole everything that I ever loved!" Vader was yelling now, raging and crazy. Bail tried to say something, anything, but his larynx was being slowly crushed by Vader's invisible fist.
With a sudden inarticulate cry of rage, Vader raised his fist. Bail flew up in the air, suspended by Vader's use of the Force. He closed his eyes, knowing the end was painfully near. He was correct. Vader bashed Bail's head against the wall, again and again, until there was nothing left.
Vader stopped some time later. His respirator breathed its inexorable rhythm in the silent room. The stormtroopers were still at parade rest, silent. Vader could feel their fear of him, hanging like a sour odor in the blood-spattered room. Without a word, he turned and walked out, his cape flaring behind him. The troopers followed him back to his shuttle, where his daughter and her attendants awaited him.