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Leia was 10 years old when she lost her home. She saw the explosion from her transport ship, and as a scream tore itself from her throat she felt something inside her snap.
An hour later, the imperial troops that boarded her vessel found the princess of Alderaan on the floor, eyes glowing fiery gold, shaking with tears she could not spill and surrounded by the bodies of her guards and crew. They felt her searing presence around them, still shrieking in silent agony, and without a word they returned to their ship to call for backup.
The last thing Leia remembered before she passed out was a cold presence soothing the blistering heat of her mind, and the amplified sound of labored breathing.
Everything is gone.
Leia was 10 years old when she learned the truth. Her father had betrayed the Empire, choosing to side with a group of extremists threatening the safety of its citizens. The Emperor had tried to reason with him, but to no avail, and the rising rebel threat meant that he was forced to act. Her father’s disregard for the lives of his people had been what signed their death warrant. Leia narrowly escaped the same fate.
When she had been told she’d exploded again, killing the two officers nearest her and knocking herself out. She had come to in a cell, with softly glowing handcuffs clasped on her wrist. The pain inside of her was still there, but she felt disconnected from it, her mind dull. She curled up on the bench and rested her forehead against the cool wall. She was too numb to cry.
He didn’t care about me.
Leia was 10 years old when she was given a purpose. Darth Vader, the man who had carried her out of the shuttle and spared her for her father’s crimes, took her under his wing as an apprentice. He taught her how to sharpen the pain that she carried until it could pierce reality. He taught her how to weaponize her anger and rejuvenate herself with her agony. She grew stronger and more powerful at a rapid speed, and although he didn’t show it, she could tell that Vader was impressed by her progress.
Vader taught me to unlock this power.
Leia was 11 years old when she visited Malachor. Together, she and Vader unlocked the temple, but she had to enter alone. The crystal she found sang when she touched it, and the staff she built glowed a strong, steady scarlett, hotter than her training saber, and infinitely deadlier. She sparred more regularly with her teacher, and although his strikes were calculated and impossibly strong, she was faster, and fought with a rabid ferocity. The first time she knocked him off his feet and held her bland to his throat she felt his stunned pride dance around her.
Vader is proud of me. I’ve become a warrior.
Leia was 12 years old when Leia Organa died. She rose from her ashes with a new name, as a fully fledged Sith apprentice and Vader’s right hand. Her name had been hand picked by Vader himself: Darth Seraph. She did not understand the sadness around his presence when he bestowed it upon her, but she wore it as a badge of honor.
I’m stronger than I ever was before.