Part 7 
Standard disclaimers. 
This part PG, Luke/Leia 


Leia looked up as the door of her stateroom slid open.  The wheeze 
of the Emperor's respirator chilled her even before the torture droid 
floated into the room behind him. 

"I trust your accomodations are comfortable, Princess?"  She stared 
at him.  "You have my son to thank.  He has been far too generous 
with you.  But now, Your Highness, we will discuss the location of 
your hidden rebel base." 

The screams were audible through the wall, and the guards found it 
expedient to step a short distance down the corridor, letting 
distance erase some of the terror. 

Wrung out from the session, Vader retired to his hyperbaric 
meditation chamber.  He hadn't dosed her with enough TellAll to force 
the truth from her.  This had been more about violating her 
personality. 

The robot arms lifted the helmet from his head, and he removed the 
respirator mask.  The oxygen pressure in here was high enough he 
didn't require it.  He sat the mask on a shelf and looked at it. 
His own face wasn't nearly as fearsome and fear had its uses.  He'd 
been a very good looking young man once, much like Luke.  Luke was 
learning to turn his looks into a weapon of a more delicate sort. 
If the mask was a club with which Vader instilled fear in the galaxy, 
his son's golden fairness was a rapier so sharp the victim never felt 
the pain of the wound until he fell dead from it. 

His children were more of a trial than he'd expected.  Leia had been 
almost hopelessly corrupted by the peace-loving Alderaani.  He 
thanked the Dark that Beru had had a stabilizing influence on Luke. 
The resentment between Owen and his brother was an unexpect bonus, 
and Vader suspected her of seeding that to keep Obi-Wan away from the 
boy.  And to learn she was capable of the ruthless murder of her 
husband had stunned and pleased him.  He had known she was a 
Force-sensitive and a teacher from the first moment he held her when 
his mother had come to Coruscant, finally free.  He had seen much of 
the Skywalker heritage, in her, but the eyes were pure Jinn.  Ironic 
that Kenobi's master had engineered his downfall so very neatly. 

He turned his thoughts back to his meditation, on his splendid son 
and wayward daughter. 

The door chimed.  Leia lifted her head, aching and terrified.  She 
opened the intercom channel.  "Go away!"  She couldn't keep the 
shrillness out of her voice and knew it would do her no good against 
Vader. 

"Leia?"  Luke's voice was unmistakeable.  "May I come in?  I brought 
food." 

Food, of all things!  As if she ever wanted to eat again.  "Come in." 
She knew he would regardless, but the fact he had asked seemed to 
make a difference. 

He set the tray down and came to sit on the edge of her bed.  "Sweet 
Princess, come join me."  He helped her sit up.  "Shhh, I know your 
head hurts."  He stroked her temples gently.  The cool touch of his 
hand seemed to erase the dizziness and pain in her head.  He helped 
her stand, and guided her gently across the room to the table. 
"Drink this.  TellAll causes dehydration." 

The fruit juice was sweet and cool.  She sipped graciously, stifling 
the temptation to toss aside the glass and guzzle from the pitcher 
he'd brought. 

"Can you eat?"  He put three small beige cubes on a plate. 

She looked at it and her stomach rebelled.  "I don't think so." 

"Try this."  He slid the plate across to her.  "It's very delicate. 
My aunt used to make it when I was sick.  I programmed it tonight." 

Leia tried an experimental sliver.  The flavor was very mild, and 
the texture was smooth.  Her stomach seemed to accept it.  She took 
another. 

"If you're so worried about me, keep your father away!" she snarled. 
"He said I was here instead of in the detention block because of 
you."  All he heard was suspicion.  There should have been some hope 
in there, but he didn't hear it.  He laid his hand over hers briefly. 

"Leia.  Dear Leia.  This was only the beginning."  He withdrew his 
hand.  "If you don't tell my lord Father what he wants to know, 
things will go from bad," he gestured to the bruise from the syringe, 
"to infinitely worse."  He let worry for her wash out of him in a 
wave.  "Will you let me heal you, purge your system of the TellAll?" 

"So I can be in good shape for tomorrow's session?" 

"Please?"  The guileless blue eyes met hers. 

She was basking in the cool shade of the blue-leaved v'lalr tree on 
the hottest day of summer.  She was swimming in the ocean of her 
homeworld, surrounded by blue sky, blue water, and her weight all 
nonsense in the water.  She was slipping between sheets scented with 
delicate starflowers, caressed by their azure scent and petals. 
"Yes." 

He broke the gaze, leaving her wondering what had just happened. 

Luke rose and stood behind her, brushing his fingertips across her 
forehead.  He matched his breathing to hers and began forming a 
healer's bond.  In time he would deepen these first silken cords, 
and claim her as his own.  Eventually, when she was ready, he would 
twist them into iron, making her his utter, willing and abject slave. 
He would break her and remake her into what he wanted, and bind her 
to him forever in the way of Darksiders from time immemorial.  She 
would never know what had happened, or where the relationship had 
changed. 

He sent the first soft tendrils of healing Force through her body, 
reducing the bruise, and flushing the drug from her system.  Either 
she had a Jedi metabolism or his father had deliberately used too 
little.  She had broken down most of it already.  Finally, he 
triggered a rush of endorphins, flooding her with pleasure, and 
took his fingers from her head. 

She opened her eyes and looked at him.  He smiled gently, touched 
her cheek, and left.  Leia stared at the door for a long time before 
going to the bed.  She fell asleep quickly, but the blue followed her 
into the dreams.