A Star Wars Fairy Tale: Return, Part 3

Leia, Luke, Cecil, and Arthur arrived at Ben Kenobi's old cottage on the edge of the Enchanted Woods a few days later. It was dusty and dirty, but otherwise seemed largely unharmed. Luke got a fire going in the small clay fireplace and weeded Ben's herb garden. Leia and Cecil cleared the tiny dwelling of dirt and mice. Arthur went out into the woods to try to set up a makeshift forge, where he could work on making Luke a new sword.

Leia hadn't been herself for days. Though she kept busy cleaning and practiced dueling with her new knife, Luke could tell she was restless. He knew a big part of her missed Han badly, missed his ready wit, strength, and warm smile. He could feel her heart ache with loss and sadness. She was missing her work with the Rebels, too. They hadn't seen any of the Rebels in months. 

They'd been there for three days when Leia was going through an old chest at the foot of the only bed in the cottage. It was a lovely piece, intricately carved with amazingly life-like birds and trees. She was surprised to see that the chest was filled with pieces of armor. Most of it was worn and tarnished, but a few bits shined. She pulled out one smaller piece of silvery-blue armor. It was lightweight but tough, almost rippling in her hand like waves. She was surprised when one glove fit her perfectly.

She just barely saw the blue light shimmer into view. “That was your mother's armor.”

Leia nearly jumped a mile. “Sir Kenobi, please don't do that! I wish you'd warn someone when you decide you want to materialize.”

“I apologize.” Sir Ben Kenobi, looking much as he had the night he died (except for the shimmering blue light around him), sat down on the bed next to her. “I forgot you're not as used to ghosts appearing as Luke is.”

Leia turned away from him. “I wish I wasn't familiar with it at all. I never asked for any of this. I don't want power. I want to help people. I want...” she looked down at her lap. “I want Han back.”

“You can aid your lover by learning more about the Force, and your family.” Ben nodded at the trunk. “Your mother gave me her armor and your father's armor for safekeeping after he was turned to the Dark Side. That's the armor she wore when she fought as Queen. All the royal women of Naboo have worn that armor, or armor like it, for generations.”

“Ben?” Leia felt Luke walk into the room, well before he arrived. She always seemed to know where he was these days. It was just...instinct. “Ben, why didn't you tell me? You said Lord Vader betrayed and murdered my father.”

Leia glared at the ghostly Force Knight. “You told him an outright lie,” she said angrily. “He trusted you, my father trusted you, and you lied! What else have you lied about?”

Ben sighed. “You are just like Anakin, Leia. He used to fly off the handle that way, too. Questioned everything I ever said and just about everything I taught him. He would drive me crazy at times.” He looked at the twins. “His anger made him an easy mark for a dark Force magician like Palapatine. He allowed him to corrupt his light Force magic in exchange for power and to make the Knights' Council respect him.”

Leia turned towards her mother's armor, clearly still skeptical. “How can we believe you?”

“What I told you, Luke, was true,” Ben insisted. “From a certain point of view.”

Luke frowned. “A certain point of view?”

“You'll find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view.” Ben shifted in the bed. Even as a ghost, he was still reluctant to reveal everything his part in Anakin's downfall, particularly to his former friend's children. The wounds still felt fresh as if he was in the lava field yesterday. “Anakin was a good friend. Even as a child, he was a genius with horses and carriages, but I was amazed at how strongly the Force Magic was with him. When Qui-Gon died, I took over his training. I thought I could instruct him just as well as my old master and Yoda.” His eyes seemed far-away. “I was wrong.”

“There is still good in him,” Luke insisted.

Ben shook his head. “He's more demon now than man, twisted and evil.”

“I can't do it, Ben.” Luke shook his head. “I can't kill my own father.”

“How can you regard that creature as our father?” Leia snapped. “I don't want to get anywhere near him!”

Luke turned to Ben. “Master, Leia, let me at least try to talk to him first. You saw how he was with Arthur. I think he just needs to remember the good in him and the people who still care.”

The ghost looked between the two of them. “Either way, you must face your father again. Both of you. Bury your feelings deep down. They do you both credit, but they may be made to serve Palapatine.”

Leia made a face and returned to riffling through the chest. “Ben, did Mother really wear this armor?”

Luke peered in. He gathered a leg piece in his one good hand. “It's beautiful!” He tried to squeeze it over his thigh, but it was too small. “Hey, it doesn't fit!”

Ben chuckled. “Yes, your mother really wore that armor. It was made for a woman's figure, Luke. Until the rise of Palapatine, the rulers of Naboo were always women.”

Leia was already pulling it on, bit by bit. It fit as smooth as a glove, as if it had been made for her. “I wish Uncle Bail let me have armor like this. He said I wasn't going to be in the Royal Guards, so I wouldn't need it.”

“You'll need it,” Ben told her, “if you plan on rescuing Solowolf from the Ogre King.”

Leia turned to Ben. “I want to find Han more than anything.” She put her hand on Luke's arm. “But someone needs to heal Luke's hand first. I can't do it.” She bit her lip as her hand touched the bare spot on her neck where her flowing locks had been. “Vader made sure of that.”

“Luke's healing powers are just as strong.” Ben's gaze turned to the younger man. “You could do it yourself, Luke. Leia, hold his hand. Even if you can't heal him, you can encourage his power.”

They concentrated together. The blue light that gathered around the stump was shimmery and so bright, the two living beings had to avert their eyes from it. Even so, when it subsided, Luke was staring at the barest skeleton of a hand, bones and not much more.

“Damn it!” Leia turned away angrily. “If Father hadn't cut my hair...”

Her brother put his good hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “It'll be all right, Leia. I'll find a way to fix it, cover it with something.” He smiled at her. “Why don't we have dinner, then turn in? We'll try again in the morning.”

She nodded slowly. “All right.” Luke watched her as she shot up, her face still frustrated. “I'll see if I can help Cecil with the soup. Maybe I can still do that.”

Luke sighed as he and Ben watched her stomp into the main room. “I wish I could do something for her, Ben. She's been unhappy ever since we arrived.”

“Unless you can produce Solowolf, there's nothing you can do.” Ben frowned. “Her soul and Solowolf's are bound together. They quite literally need each other.”

Cecil stood by the door as Luke turned to reply. “Dinner is served,” the gold-clad butler said in his most official term. “Tonight's meal will include vegetable stew with fresh herbs from the garden and pears from the tree outside.”

“Sounds tasty, Cecil.” The young knight smiled. “Tell Leia I'll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Sir Luke.” Luke chuckled as Cecil strode stiffly back into the main room. He never did lose that butler's walk of his.

He turned to comment about this to Ben...but the Force Ghost was gone. Only a small trail of blue light had been left in his wake. He sighed. “Ben...I wish I knew what to do for her,” he said to the room. Neither the room nor Ben replied.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Leia tossed and turned in the blankets on the floor. Luke had wanted her to sleep in the only bed, but as she reminded him, he was the one with the injuries. He needed the relatively soft mattress more than she did at the moment. She closed her eyes, trying to sleep, but she kept thinking of Han, and the Rebels, and the night Vader took him from her. A sliver of moon glowed brightly on her as she finally dropped into an uneasy slumber...

She was in an enormous palace. It was dark and foreboding, filled with smoke and brambles. She wore her mother's armor and carried the silver knife. She tried to cut her way through the thorns with the knife, but they were too thick and sharp. A voice floated to her on a soft, moonlit breeze...

“Leia! Leia, please help me! I'm trying to find you, but I can't see...I'm trapped...”

She'd know Han's gruff voice anywhere. It sounded frightened, desperate, helpless. She kept hacking away, trying to locate the sound of his voice. She opened her mouth to cry out to him, but to her shock, nothing came out. She opened it again, but couldn't produce a single sound.

As she slashed away at the brambles, the moonlight fell on a single figure, kneeling before three hideously ugly, slug-like creatures. It was Han, his sightless eyes blank, his handsome face yanked upwards by a wrinkly hand. They caressed him, stroked his hair and neck and ears as if he were a puppy. One of them shoved the brass ring from his neck on his finger. She was shocked when she thought she heard her own voice coming from one of the creatures...

“Hello, my beautiful bridegroom. You are mine now. Mine, and mine alone, bound to the hearth and ashes. You belong to me.”

“Leia?” Han called. “Is that you?”

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that it wasn't her, it was a monster, but her mouth continued to fail her. The moment she started towards him, she realized she was no longer wearing her armor. Instead, she was barely clad in few bits of silver and gold chains and dusty red fabric. A slimy, wrinkled arm dragged her to what appeared to a larger version of the ogresses who surrounded Han.

A single beam of light fell on the hand holding her. It was metal, cold and sharp. She knew that hand. She knew the voice...

Forget him, daughter. He can neither see, nor hear you. He is a slave...and now, so are you. You are slaves to the darkness. Give in, my child. Give in...

She recoiled as the hand came into the light...then the long, scaly arm, then the leathery wings...the long nostrils...she finally found enough voice to scream...

She shot up, wound in the blankets. Luke, Cecil, and Arthur were all by her side, looking concerned. “Oh dear,” Cecil fretted. “Your Highness, you must have had the most terrifying dream. We could hear you screaming all the way in the Falcon!”

Luke had his one good arm around her. “Leia, what happened?” He pulled her close to him. “It was about Han, wasn't it?”

She nodded, standing, gathering blankets. “I can't stay here. I have to go.”

“Now?” Luke nodded at the oncoming dawn. “It's barely morning. At least eat some breakfast.”

“He's right, Your Highness.” Cecil patted her hand. “You can't function without a good, solid breakfast. Your father always did say it was the most important meal of the day.”

She was already packing her things. “Han needs me. Who knows what that...that slug will do to him? Luke, you lived in the Kingdom of Tatoon. You heard the rumors about what King Jabba does to anyone who crosses him.”

“Leia,” Luke said softly, “is that really what this is all about?”

She finally stopped, her eyes on her bag. “Luke...I'm so worried. Vader blinded Han. He hurt him because of me! If I wasn't there...”

Luke took her in his one good arm. “Leia, don't do this to yourself. It wasn't your fault. It's Father, and the monster controlling him.”

“You don't know Vader like I do.” When she looked up at him, her brown eyes were filled with fire. “Luke, I'm going whether you like it or not. I'll go on foot. You'll need Tauntaun and the Falcon.”

Her brother squeezed her shoulder. “Let's make a plan first. I need to finish my sword. Then, I'll join you. Lando and Chewbacca should already be in Tatoon, or close to Tatoon, by now.” He nodded. “Take Cecil with you. I need Arthur to help me with my sword.”

“Me?” Cecil gulped. “I'm not sure I'm up to tramping around in the Woods, especially with the state they're currently in.”

Leia gave him her most reassuring smile. “Think of it as a mission for the royal family.”

Arthur made a face, his fingers flying. Cecil glared at him. “I am NOT a coward! I'm just concerned for my well-being, that's all! I have a very delicate constitution.” Arthur rolled his eyes, his fingers going even faster. “I do not always hide when there's trouble! Some of us want to keep our skins, not jump in front of every demon who leaps into the fray!” Arthur poked at Cecil's chest, then continued his miming. “All right, Mr. I'm-So-Tough, I'll prove I can be brave. I will take Princess Leia to the Kingdom of Tatoon, right under King Jabba's nose! Then we'll see who's the brave one!”

Leia and Luke both laughed. “Thank you, Cecil,” Leia told him. “You don't know how much I appreciate this.”

Cecil bowed before her again. “Oh, your perfectly welcome.” He rubbed his stomach as a growl was heard. “But why don't we see to that breakfast first? I'm afraid my stomach would choose this time to make noises!”

Leia and Cecil were on their way as dawn was breaking over the treetops. Luke made sure they packed plenty of fruit and water to eat on their journey. The young woman kept her knife in a scabbard on her hip and carried her armor on her back. She didn't think such elaborate armor would be necessary on the journey to Tatoon, but it might be useful once they arrived.

“I'll meet you at Tatoon within a week,” Luke said. “We'll see if we can find Lando when I arrive.” Arthur waved, then spoke with his fingers, turning towards the retreating duo.

“Of course I'll take good care of Her Highness!” Cecil insisted to his best friend. “You take good care of Sir Luke!”

Leia hugged her brother. “I hope this works.”

He gave her one of his sunny smiles. “I know it will.”

Arthur was looking at Luke's newly-created bone hand as Cecil and Leia waved good-bye. His gaze turned to several old metal cups and plates on a shelf in the main room of the cottage. Wait, he thought. Metal plates...metal...hand...

He grabbed Luke's good hand, nearly yanking him off his feet. “Arthur, what are you doing? What's your rush?” The little blacksmith stopped to gather the cups and plates. “What's all this for?” He pulled out a ruler, taking measurements of Luke's bone hand. “What's going on?” The tiny man just smiled up at him before ushering him outside, the pile of metal utensils still in his arms.