Tantrum [COMPLETED]

Chapter 15

Luke quickly rips off the bottom of his shirt. Though Leia protests, he uses it to wrap around her broken wrist. They've been taken to the Death Star. They haven't been told much, but from picking up hints it's because Vader needs to fix his hand. Until he returns, they are stuck in a secure cell, stormtroopers flocking their only exit. There is no chance of escape, even for them.

Leia is silent, watching Luke attempt to fix her wrist. She lets out small gasps, pain zapping her every time he moves her wrist. Her fingers feel numb, but at least she can bend them. She could hold something if she had to. But the thought of swinging around a lightsaber makes her body shudder. She can't use that hand anymore unless she's desperate. The pain would be too much.

"There. When we get back, you'll have to go to the med bay, but this should make it sturdier." Luke says as he tightens the wrap. He's right, it does feel better to be wrapped up. But again, it's practically useless to her. It will do no good in a lightsaber fight.

A lightsaber fight that is bound to happen because Luke didn't kill Vader. He gave up his chance, throwing his lightsaber away. She pinches her eyes shut, shaking her head at him. She can feel his confusion through the Force, but she's upset with him. "Luke, what were you thinking?" She scolds.

"What do you mean?" He asks, tilting his head at her. "I know I'm not exactly a doctor, but this should at least--"

"Not with my hand." She scoffs. She scowls, feeling herself growing angry with him. "With Vader. What were you thinking on Endor? Why did you let him live? Why didn't you finish him off like we've been told to do?"

"I wasn't thinking. I was feeling." Luke spits back, narrowing his eyes at her. He slightly backs away from her, hurt starting to rise off of him. Why is she mad with him? This isn't exactly his fault, it's the Force's fault. If it hadn't shown him that the was still some good in their father, he would have finished him off. Doesn't she understand that? "Can't you feel the hate and pain inside him? Can't you see how it's tearing him apart at the seams? Don't you feel the shame he radiates?"

"No. I'm not like you." She replies, looking away from him. "You connect with people and their emotions so easily. It's not like that for everyone. You know that it's not like for most people!" Not everyone has the privilege of letting the Force speak to them. Luke can let it guide him into people's souls, seeing them for who they truly are or what they can be. Not Leia. That aspect of the Force has never come to her. She is more rational. Luke is the dreamer of the two of them.

She frowns, growing upset. It's not like she could connect with them even if she wanted to. She's been coerced to ignore that calling in the Force her entire life. "Besides, I can't afford to connect with people and try to cater to their feelings. The things I do for the rebellion doesn't allow me to take that risk. If I did, do you know how many people's lives I could put in danger? I have to shut myself off to them and what they are feeling to do what needs to be done."

Luke looks down, fidgeting with his clothing. She has a point, but he doesn't want to admit it. She has been made to ignore other's feelings, making her seem coldhearted. Plus, for some Force forsaken reason, he seems to express everyone else's emotion so intensely. Maybe what Vader feels is only noticeable to him.

"My missions and yours have never been anything alike." Leia quietly adds, stepping toward him. "Mine are watched by the Empire. I know how they work, I've seen what they've done to planets and to the innocent lives living there. I have to tune out their emotions if I want to keep myself sane."

"I know, Leia," Luke says, looking back at her. "But my missions also involve working with others through the Force. I have to trust what it's telling me and it's saying that there is still good in our father. It wants me to bring him back."