Missing and Presumed Dead

Cracking

Heir.

Heir.

The entire galaxy knew. Knew her true identity. Knew that she was in the hands of the enemy.

That she was the heir to the Empire.

As Leia sat in her cell, she focused her mind on what she could do to solve this problem. To Vader's point, she could try to use this position to her advantage and still bring about democracy...she hated even considering that he was right about that. It went against everything she'd ever been brought up to believe.

But...then again. Alderaan had been a monarchy while still fostering democracy. Naboo elected their nobility. There were resources she could use to help bring things back to the way things were supposed to be.

That was assuming the Rebellion didn't try to shoot her on sight.

She leaned her forehead against her knees, trying to maintain control of her breathing. Being alone in this cell meant that she had time to think through things...but it also meant that she had too much time. Thoughts swirled and spiraled, and it was becoming difficult to keep track of things. It was difficult to breathe right, to not start imagining the worst possible conclusions to how this would all play out.

Because she would get out, right?

Luke was injured. She didn't know how long she'd been here, but it was likely that he was still healing. And Vader...Vader...

Locked up. Probably being tortured and tormented.

Did he know? Had he been told? Perhaps this wasn't just a message for the Rebellion, but also for Vader. He'd no doubt think she'd already given in. He'd think it was too late, that she'd turn and attack him, attack her brother...

She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing picking up.

No. Never. I won't turn. I won't turn. I won't turn. I won't, I won't, I won't, I won't...

She'd die first.

The Emperor had had years to turn her father. He'd proven to be a far more patient man than Vader ever was. She had no doubt he was in this for the long game, and that stupid title of Heir probably meant that the palace staff would care very much if she stopped eating or...or did something to end her life.

The sound of the doors hissing open startled her and she bolted upright, tears streaking her face as she tried to process who was standing in front of her.

The Emperor.

Shame and anger that he'd seen her like this, caught unaware, flooded her and she furiously wiped at her face even as she glared. "Now you decide to come visit."

But why?

He'd made such a big deal about her going to join him for that stupid dinner, and his stupid throne room, and the idiotic party that had likely ruined her reputation beyond repair. So why was he suddenly here, in a dirty cell in the underbelly of the palace?

Whatever it was, it wasn't good. She scrambled to mentally prepare herself for whatever he had in store for her, but it was...slow going.

And maybe that's the point.

The Emperor smiled kindly. "I apologize for the inconvenient timing."

"You and I both know you're here intentionally."

"Oh, my dear, you wound me. Must you always be so cruel?" He stepped into the cell, the door clanging shut behind him. Leia barely restrained a wince at the ringing it left in her ears.