A Star Wars Fairy Tale: New Hope, Part 8

Leia watched the destruction of Aldran Town from the window of the tallest, most isolated tower in Bast Castle. It was called the Death Tower, for this is where only the most important and guarded prisoners were held. Indeed, the security on the Tower was so tight, the window was the only way in or out. There was no doorway, nor stairs. Magical charms had been placed on the tower to keep out flying animals and carriages.

Leia had tried to assuage her anger and loneliness by pulling her velvety brown hair out of the two thick buns and combing out the tangles with her fingers, but all she could think of was the pain she felt. She knew her uncle and aunt were dead. She could feel it. They had passed on to the Netherworld. She closed her eyes, trying to will the visions away, but all she could see was her aunt's lovely face frozen forever in a stone mask, her uncle being lifted into a mouth filled with needle-like teeth...

“Leia!” A sonorous, almost mechanical hiss disrupted her unsettling vision. “Leia, my daughter, let down your hair!”

She did as she was told. The only way to get into the tower was by climbing her dark tresses. They were so long, they brushed the ground beneath Vader's feet. “Father,” she complained, wincing as he started up the side of the tower, “be careful. All that armor makes you heavy! I don't want you yanking my hair out!”

Lord Vader was more nimble than Leia would have thought, given all the metal he wore. She supposed it was part of his Black Knight training. He finally made it in, carrying a burlap bag with him. “I want to have a father-daughter discussion with you, my girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already know about the birds and the bees.”

Vader wasn't listening to her snippy retort. He pulled out a handful of black crystal. Her breath quickened. “You know what these are, daughter. Black Khyber crystals can manipulate a creature in any way the holder chooses. They can drain the very lifeblood from a man...or wring the truth from a stubborn girl.”

“Father,” Leia said in exasperation, “I told you where the Rebel base is, and you burned my home to the ground and killed my aunt and uncle. What more do you want from me? I'd give you my blood, but we already share that, not that I'm proud of the fact.”

Her father's shiny-gloved hand suddenly wrapped around her slender white throat. She fought for air as the breath was violently torn from her lungs. “You'll not talk to me in that insolent manner.” He ran one long black-clad finger across her cheek. “Tell me about those two men you were dancing with at the ball. My officers claimed they saw you with a man in black velvet and a knight in antique armor.”

She struggled to get the words out. “I don't...” She tried to breathe, but the squeezing only became more violent. “I don't know. The taller one claimed...to be a prince. The boy was...an apprentice...to an older knight.”

He squeezed harder. “You were interested in them.”

“No...” She desperately wrapped her smaller hands around his. “The boy...nice enough...something familiar about him. The prince...was an arrogant ass.”

“Your eyes say differently.” He took hold of her long hair and yanked her face until her wide brown eyes faced his. She was still breathing heavily, trying to take deep, long swallows of air. “Look at me, child. I want to know who they are. One of them was a Light Force magician. The other was a liar.” He pressed one of the black crystals close to her soft neck. “You will not have them. The King will provide for you and train you to become a black sorceress. You'll have power you never believed possible.”

She tried to twist her head from his hands, but he held her plaits tightly. “If power means I become a monster who destroys an innocent kingdom and murders its king and queen in cold blood, I want no part of it!”

Vader let out an angry hiss, finally lifting her in the air and throwing her against the far wall. Her left elbow hit solid rock. She grabbed it with a cry, her eyes bearing all the anger and hatred buried in her torn heart. “I may be your daughter, but I'm not your property.”

“That remains to be seen.” He dragged her to the window, threw her hair over, letting it flow to the ground. “You will be a prisoner in this tower until you see the error of your rash ways. When I come with food for you, I'll call you to let down your hair.”

She turned from him, still angry. “I'd rather starve than eat something you've provided.”

“If that's what you wish.” Leia watched him writhe down her cascading locks, looking more and more like a metallic version of the dragons he controlled. As soon as he left, she pulled up her hair and began combing out the tangles with her fingers again...but she didn't get too far before the tears started to come. Soon, she was weeping into her hair, weeping for her home in flames and her dead family and the father who had become more of a demon than a man.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It took nearly a day for the six men in the golden carriage to arrive at Bast Castle. The terrain in the Kingdom of the Empire was the most treacherous in the entire Seven Kingdoms. Any land that wasn't rocky or barren was sticky, murky swampland.

Finally, as dusk began to overtake the Parched Mountains, the jagged edifice of Bast Castle loomed in the distance. It truly took one's breath away. Luke couldn't believe how slick and glassy it looked, even from a distance.

Practical Han, as usual, was less concerned with the mountain's gleaming appearance. “How the hell are we gonna get up that thing? It's too steep to just ride up. I don't see any roads, either. And what about that drawbridge? It probably has a hundred guards surrounding it.”

Ben turned to Luke on his pony. “We could use our magic.”

“Can we do that?” Luke was a bit surprised. “The carriage is awfully big, and what about Tauntaun?”

Ben leaned out of the carriage and took Luke's hand. “We can if we do it together. We'll need all the light magic we can muster to lift all of us, the horses, and the carriage.”

Arthur closed his eyes, his fingers wiggling the message that Cecil should do the same. “Very well,” the taller man in the gold uniform said with a sigh, “but I'm not certain it'll work. We're moving a lot more than just our group this time.”

Chewbacca closed his eyes. “Trust the magic, Stiff-Legged One, and it will guide you.” Han kept his eyes open, since he was driving, but he did concentrate.

There was nothing for a few moments. The carriage continued to gallop along. Han frowned as he heard more hooves behind them. “If you're gonna get us up that mountain, old man, you'd better do it now.” Han pointed over his shoulder. “There's at least three or four Imperial soldiers on our tail.” He ducked as arrows started flying.

Han couldn't exactly describe how it happened. One minute, they were on the ground, the black crystal mountain looming directly over them. The next, there was a dusty blue light, like thousands of stars, gathering around the carriage and the horses. As the stars gathered, the horses and the carriage lifted off the ground, and the carriage flew up the mountainside, hardly even scratching the sheer surface. The Imperial soldiers on horseback were left far behind.

Han loved it. He cheered loud and long. “This is great!” he hooted. “I always wanted to fly. How is this happening, anyway?”

“Force magic, mate,” Chewbacca said simply. They kept flying, gliding to the very top of the mountain and right over the castle's walls and closed drawbridge and into the main courtyard. Han finally landed in what appeared to be a stable. He could see rows of black and gray horses, with imposing carriages and carts to match them.

Luke almost fell off of Tauntaun. “Whew!” He wiped his brow, holding onto his horse to keep him steady. “That takes a lot out of you.”

Arthur and Cecil had their arms around Ben. “It requires a great deal of power to lift seven horses, six humans, and a large carriage,” the older knight explained. “We'll be back on our feet in a few minutes, after we rest.”

Han looked over his shoulder. “I don't think we're gonna have the time.” Three guards and two officers were already making their way to the stables. “I think someone saw us on the way in.” He looked over his shoulder at the inside of the Falcon. “I have an idea.”

To the surprise of the soldiers and officers, there was no one in the Falcon when they arrived. They searched every crack and crevice thoroughly, but found nothing but velvet trim and leather seats. Searching the stables turned up nothing, either. All of the men stood and saluted when Lord Vader himself strode into the stables, the hay crunching under his metal-booted feet.

Vader wasted no time. “Have you found anything?”

“No, sir,” one of the officers reported. “They may be hiding in the courtyard.”

Vader shook his head. “There wouldn't have been time. I want you to get tools. Burn this carriage, if you have to.”

The Dark Lord had his reasons. “I feel...something...” He murmured as he left. It was the same feeling he had at the ballroom. A faint but familiar flicker in the Force magic...and the very familiar magic of his old master, Sir Benjamin Kenobi. He must have come to rescue the Princess of Aldran. He never could resist a damsel in distress.

The flashback came unbidden. He and Ben in the Queen's room at Naberrie Castle, now Bast Castle, seemingly centuries ago, but really just two decades past. The scorpions, so close to his beloved Queen Padme's cheek. The boy who leaped in, sword drawn, slicing the rasping, spiny creatures in two, even as she awoke. Her. His Padme, she of the eyes like the rich earth of Naboo, the hair that curled around shoulders as delicate as a swan's, the smile that could light up the gloomiest day. She who believed in him, always. She looked so much like her daughter, his Leia...whom his old master wanted to take away. He would not let it happen.