But You Must Go On

Leia stood alone in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon, hands gripping the headrest of the pilot's seat as she stared out the viewport into the neverending darkness of space. It wasn't all darkness; stars lay scattered across the black expanse, tiny pinpoints of light gleaming far off in the distance, out of reach. If one focused on the darkness instead of the light, it may seem like the stars weren't even there at all, leaving nothing but cold and empty space. Leia imagined that was what her mind looked like, in this moment. It sure felt that way. She was no stranger to the cold, empty, numb feeling of grief. She had endured it many times before. But all her losses felt different in her mind and heart. Some felt like explosions. Others like a blaster shot to the chest. Losing Luke felt like someone had turned off the light. Much less spectacularly violent than most of her previous losses, but just as jarring, enough to disrupt her entire reality in an instant. Light still shone from other sources, around her and off in the distance, but the light that had burned strongest and brightest inside her mind suddenly vanished.

She searched for him, with the same fervour she had when Luke disappeared to hide in the depths of his depression and guilt. She reached out through the Force with all her strength, desperate to feel something, some small flicker of his presence.

Nothing.

She knew Luke was at peace when he died and became one with the Force. She had felt it. "No one's ever really gone," he had told her, with such sincerity, right before he went out to face his own death. The words echoed in her mind repeatedly ever since. She believed him, of course she did, but her heart still ached. Tears still stung her eyes. That cold, numb, empty feeling still nestled in her bones and occupied the space in her mind where that bright light had once beamed.

The gravity of grief weighed her down, as did the uncertainty of what was next for the Resistance. They had lost so many, and those losses brought on their own aches. They were her colleagues, her friends. They were each small flames of hope that helped keep the Resistance burning with life and the power to fight. With each extinguished flame, a piece of hope disappeared with it. To most, the Resistance's situation now would seem hopeless. Though Leia hated to admit it, part of her felt tempted to succumb to that hopelessness too. But a stirring voice inside of her told her that she must go on. It always did. After she witnessed her beloved homeworld explode and shatter into nothing, killing her parents and friends in seconds. After she received the heartwrenching news of Ben's turn to the dark side. After her marriage crumbled into seemingly irreparable pieces. After Luke, lost deep within his depression and guilt, flew off into the unknown and disappeared, isolating himself even from her. After she felt the stabbing pain tear through her chest and the heavy, crushing feeling in her heart, and immediately knew Han was gone forever. And now, again, that voice urged her to take the next step forward, to do the next right thing.

But how do we rise from all this? Where do we go from here?

Usually, her mind crafted a new strategy or plan with more haste, but not this time. This time Leia felt as if she were wandering around in the dark, stumbling blindly towards the light, towards some sort of way forward.

It would be easier with you here, she thought despairingly. She had never needed Luke's physical presence or his guidance to help her run the Resistance. It was her domain, and she was perfectly capable of managing it with confidence and passion. But that bright light in her mind, the reassuring knowledge that he was out there, somewhere, she craved it now more than ever. Suddenly, she felt lost without it, like she was floating suspended in the neverending dark emptiness of space, and thanks to her experience on the Raddus, she was well acquainted with what that felt like in reality. Cold. Lonely. A rude detachment from reality. An eerie weightlessness, yet unbearable crushing pressure at the same time.

Leia shook her head and silently cursed the stars, the galaxy, the Force. Haven't you taken enough? Can't you just let me have this one? The clusters of stars through the viewport began to blur and merge together as tears filled her eyes. Please, can't I just have my brother back?

As expected, the stars gave her no response, and the Force whispered no mystical reply.

It was only that rousing voice in the back of her mind.

You must go on.

Leia breathed a heavy sigh. Even drifting off into space towards almost certain death, she had managed to go on. The Force had flared hot and alive inside of her and, combined with her own unstoppable stubbornness and staunch refusal to give up a fight, it had guided her back to safety, back to life.

The Resistance looked to her as an unbreakable pillar of strength. She supposed that was her own fault. She often made an effort to disguise any worry and despair in front of them and shoulder her burdens privately, maintaining the sturdy image. Recent events had left their cracks, deep and jagged, but she had no choice. She had to keep going, one step and one breath at a time. It was all she could do. People counted on her, and she would not fail them now.

But when she glanced around at the loyal yet weary and scarce remnants of the Resistance, and when she wandered into the Falcon's cockpit half-expecting to see Han and Luke and hear the joyous sound of their laughter and bickering, only to be greeted by empty seats, she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

But that was life. That was her life. She loved, she lost, and she soldiered on.

A bright presence suddenly beamed softly on the precipice of her mind. For a brief moment, Leia's heart skipped a beat (Luke?), then sunk slightly when she felt the presence's distinct difference to her brother's. She turned to see Rey standing silently in the doorway, one hand resting against the wall. She looked exhausted and drained, and Leia couldn't help but notice the dampness spread across her cheeks and the faint redness around her hazel eyes. She had been crying, Leia realised, and had obviously made a rushed attempt to wipe away her tears before entering.

"Sorry, General, I didn't mean to disturb you," Rey said, her voice quiet and strained. "I just... I felt... I just wanted to see if you were alright."

Leia sighed. The realisation hit her that Rey had sensed her grief. She felt a pang of guilt, thinking perhaps she might've disturbed the girl's well-earned rest, but there wasn't much she could do about that now. Besides, she could feel the warmth and sincerity of the kind offer of comfort.

"That's very thoughtful of you," she said to Rey. She gestured for her to enter the cockpit. "Come."

Rey moved quietly to stand beside her. For a long moment, they stood together in silence, staring out into space.

"You miss him," Rey said softly after a short while, her eyes downcast to the floor. "Luke."

"I do," Leia replied, her voice tense and aching as a sob crept its way up into her throat. "Very much." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rey nod, her gaze not lifting from the floor. The girl shifted her balance awkwardly from foot to foot, evidently unsure of what to say next.

Then, both women felt something stir inside of them, like a magnetised pull, a tugging similar to the one they had both felt on D'Qar when they had met for the first time following Han's death. Without a conscious thought, they soon found themselves instinctively embracing one another, just as they had on D'Qar. Tears flowed freely and heavily from Leia's eyes, and she could feel a dampness forming on Rey's cheeks too.

Rey's presence was comforting in a way Leia could not quite explain. It was not the same as Luke's, though the young woman certainly beamed brightly with a warm light and hope as he once had. Rey's light was comforting and hopeful in its own way. Right now, it radiated from her so strongly that it seemed to envelope them both and swallow up all of the grief and uncertainty they held in their hearts. It flowed from her like a steady stream tumbling over the edge of a waterfall, cascading into a pool below and filling it generously with life and energy. Leia allowed herself to soak in the feeling.

Life often snatched things from her mercilessly; but sometimes, if she was lucky, it gave her something, a gift, in return.

She dearly hoped life wouldn't take this one from her.

"Do you really believe we have everything we need?" Rey asked when they broke apart at last. Tears still clung to her face, and her eyes searched for reassurance. "Do you really think we can do this without Luke?"

Leia nodded. She gently rested her hand against Rey's cheek, and watched as more tears slipped from the corners of the young woman's eyes. "I do," she told her sincerely. "You ventured to Ahch-To to bring me back a Jedi to help the Resistance, and you did just that."

Rey shook her head. "But I'm not Luke."

"I know," Leia said. She moved her hand to rest it firmly on Rey's shoulder. "I don't expect you to be. I want you to be you."

"But I don't know what I'm supposed to do," said Rey, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Neither do I," Leia confessed. She didn't know what the future held. She didn't know what the best way forward was, or if there even was one. "But we'll figure it out, one step at a time," she told Rey, with as much strength and conviction in her voice as she could muster. "And we'll do it together."