Chapter Text
Newly commissioned Captain Firmus Piett glanced around the large exceedingly crowded ballroom and sighed internally. It would not do to sigh externally lest his commanding officer magically materialize in order to critique him for it.
Vice Admiral Ozzel had been, well, let’s just say he had been less than pleased to discover that Admiral Lord Nelson had personally promoted Piett to Captain of the Devastator, Ozzel’s flagship, as a reward for Piett’s actions in the Battle of the Nile.
Ozzel came from an old family in Kent and never allowed anyone who had known him longer than ten minutes to forget it. Thus, having a Captain who hailed from Manchester, a town absolutely bursting with merchant class and new money, was deeply embarrassing to him.
He had lectured Piett on manners and behavior for a function such as this the entire carriage ride over from the harbor. Piett was rather certain he would have been made to walk if there had not been enough people watching them disembark from the Devastator in preparation to attend yet another celebratory ball in honor of Nelson’s victory.
Nelson himself was not even attending, having been invited to court, but that didn’t stop all the aristocracy and people of importance from having numerous parties and balls in his honor.
Piett would be very happy not to attend as well, but had been informed by the vice-Admiral that it would not do to have any senior officers from the Devastator missing and thus, he had polished his brass buttons on his rather worn blue dress coat and done his best to shine the bullion that lined the white front as well. At least he had a pair of clean white gloves and his hat was brushed impeccably. He knew this, having done that himself as well---Ozzel having not seen fit to approve his choice of steward. There was always a reason the one Piett picked didn’t seem to work.
He had flanked the rather stout Admiral along with the second Lieutenant, a man by the name of Kelly, and a number of Ozzel’s fellow Senior officers with the appropriate class background. He had been introduced, given nods that barely could be called polite, and then forgotten.
So, he stood to the side and watched the couples ranging the dance floor in an increasingly stifling room as he sipped his white wine. He did not intend to drink very much, knowing that his commander invariably would, and one of them needed to be clear headed for the sake of the crew and the ship.
He was thus afforded a very clear view of an unfortunate young lady nearby. She was perhaps someone’s niece or cousin and very clearly from a small country village, judging by her dress. While neat and pretty he supposed (he was a rubbish judge of women’s attire) she did not have the fashion of London about her. He saw the excited sparkle die slowly out of her eyes as she was overlooked three dances in a row, and that quite deliberately.
The last time he actually watched a young ensign look right at her and scoff before gesturing to his companions, and pointing at her quite rudely. The young lady flushed and he saw her tilt her head and do her utmost to have a stiff upper lip, but there was a suspicious gleam to her eyes that meant tears.
And damn it. He was too old for this. He didn’t really dance all that much….
….and if that were his daughter, he knew what he would appreciate.
Piett set his glass on the tray of a passing waiter and moved to the young lady in order to bow and offer his hand.
“If you would do me the honor,” he said, and she looked at him in surprise, then in slow dawning gratitude as she took his hand.
It was happily a slower dance, and it allowed him time to speak with her.
“Thank you,” said the girl in a very clear west Somerset accent. “I do believe however, that it is proper to be introduced before one dances like this.”
He smiled as they did a turn and came back together. “How remiss of me. I am Captain Firmus Piett. And you are?”
She giggled and he thought she couldn’t be more than seventeen. “I am Alice Ludlow.”
“And what brings you to this dance this evening, Miss Ludlow? I trust you are not alone?”
“My aunt brought me. Lady Chester. But ah, she wishes to speak with her friends, and I rather hoped to dance. I’ve never been to London before you see,” she told him.
Yes, Piett was familiar with the situation. Young country relatives hoping to make advantageous marriages, visiting the better off aunts and uncles in the city.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the girl said as they moved in and out of the line of dancers.
“Oh yes?”
“I’m not here husband hunting. I just love dancing.”
He studied her and found truth in her earnest young face.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully as the music ended and all the dancers applauded. “Perhaps I can help there.”
He swiftly scanned the room and caught Kelly’s eye. He did not yet know his second Lieutenant very well, but he had struck him favorably. He led Miss Ludlow over to him.
“Lieutenant Kelly, Miss Alice Ludlow. Miss Ludlow, this is my second officer. I wonder, Lieutenant, if you could make sure that this young lady is not wanting for dance partners?”
Kelly raised his eyebrows at his Captain, but was quick to nod. “Yes, sir, it would be my pleasure. How do you do, Miss Ludlow?”
“Well, thank you,” she responded and then dropped a quick little curtsey to Piett.
“Thank you, sir. That was very gallant of you.”
Piett hoped the heat of the room hid the flush in his cheeks, and Kelly had a suspicious curl to his mouth.
“Not at all, Miss Ludlow. Have a lovely evening.”
He retreated to a table to find a glass of water, and was startled when a young voice sounded at his elbow.
“That was a very kind thing you did, Captain.”
He turned to see a very blonde young Commander regarding him with clear blue eyes.
“Not at all. It was the only decent thing to do.”
“And yet, I didn’t see anyone else doing the ‘decent’ thing, sir.”
Piett hummed noncommittally, and sipped his water to cover his discomfort.
“These functions can be very….cruel,” he said after a moment as they stood side by side and watched the bright colors and glittering jewels fill the room like large ungainly butterflies.
“Mm,” the younger man said in agreement. “We are such judgmental creatures aren’t we? And for the silliest things. I imagine for instance that this evening has been a bit of a punishment for you, Captain.”
Piett blinked. That was a slightly forward observation for a Commander to make to a Captain, but then, given that this young man was the first to speak to him all evening, he had a point.
“What makes you draw that conclusion, sir?”
He noted that the younger man was very close to Piett’s own height, which was quite refreshing as the Captain was used to being on the shorter side of things whenever in company of other men.
“Well, you hide it supremely well, but I heard the trick of a Manchester accent there, sir. Am I right in thinking you come from that area?”
“You are,” Piett said calmly, not sure where this was going, but determined to face it with stalwart grace. How many times had he dealt with slurs to his background after all?
“I thought so,” said the Commander, looking pleased with himself. “But you sound very...dare I say, upper class? May I be impertinent enough to ask if you went to the Naval Academy in Portsmouth?”
Well. This young man didn’t miss much.
“I did,” Piett replied and yes, it had helped his career, but it had been several years of sheer torment for the young man without family connections. He had earned the money to attend himself, and then had worked exceedingly hard to disguise his origins in order to survive the persecution of not being a ‘gentleman’s’ son.
Piett had no memories of his father as the man had died when he was three, but by most definitions of gentleman Piett was familiar with, his father had been one.
Nonetheless he had defended this with his fists on three occasions, and had finally decided that if he didn’t want to be kicked out of the academy, he needed to keep his head down and do his utmost to blend in. So he worked on his accent and he was mocked unmercifully for it. But he was grimly determined and it was unlikely he would be stationed with any of his year. He could start anew with people who didn’t know what he had sounded like originally.
Eventually, he graduated with honors and was commissioned into his Majesty’s Navy.
“Very impressive, Captain,” and Piett was struck again with how self assured this young man sounded when speaking with a superior officer. He was not disrespectful, just easily confident, and that likely meant that he was quite secure in his own family connections.
“Where do you hail from?” he asked, probing gently.
“I was born in Surrey,” the Commander answered and yes, that likely meant property and a family home.
“But I did some honest labor and went to the Academy as well. I command the Artoona now.”
“A neat little frigate,” Piett said, placing his hands behind his back, and feeling more comfortable when discussing ships. “That would be in Admiral Lord Vader’s fleet would it not?”
“Yes, sir. And you?”
“I was just posted to the Devastator as her Captain.”
“Oh well! Congratulations then, sir, we’ll be serving together……” But at this juncture several other officers came up to confer with the young man and cast glances his way as they did so.
Piett smiled bitterly. Yes, don’t sully one’s name by mingling with the riff raff.
But he was surprised. The young man looked angry and moved slightly away from the others.
“Sir, I apologize, I am needed elsewhere. It was nice to speak with you, Captain…..”
“Piett,” he supplied, and the Commander shook his hand, seeming to almost enjoy the frowns of his companions.
“I hope to see you again, Captain Piett. I’m Commander Skywalker.”
And he was gone before that could fully register for Piett’s mind.
Skywalker….
It was an unusual name and the age was about right….
Ozzel bustled up with importance quivering through every hair of his moustache.
“I trust, Captain, that you were not making a nuisance of yourself to Lord Vader’s son ?”
“No sir,” Piett replied as evenly as possible, “We did not speak long.”
So that was Admiral Lord Vader’s son. He was not what Piett would have expected.
“Recall your place,” hissed Ozzel. “Do not embarrass me, Piett!”
“I shall endeavor, sir,” Piett said, clenching his hands into fists behind his back, and watching as Ozzel moved away once more.
Feeling that it was finally too stifling in here, Piett decided enough was enough and made his way toward the terraces near the gardens.
He had nearly made it to his intended goal when a clear, commanding voice rose near him.
“I have already told you, Mr. Ketrrich, I am not interested in this dance. Now please let me pass.”
Piett paused. The voice sounded as though this was not the first time such a request had been made.
He could see a knot of tall young men, some officers, surrounding….two of them moved enough and he saw a very petite figure dressed in white, looking into the faces of the hulking figures around her defiantly.
“Oh come now, my Lady, we all know how a woman likes to be coy. Dance with Sanders then.”
“I do not wish to….!”
Could the toffee nosed louts not hear her very real and emphatic negative? Good Lord but the upper classes could use some lessons in manners.
Piett made his decision and stepped neatly into the group, holding out his gloved hand to the young lady.
He really needed to stop making a habit of this. He was old enough to be a father to most of the young things at this event. On the other hand, the young men were largely asses, so he supposed it was up to him to have manners.
“My Lady,” he said directly and politely, “I apologize for my tardiness. I believe we had arranged for this dance?”
She stared at him with huge brown doe eyes for less than a beat before placing a tiny hand in his.
“It was no trouble, Captain. Excuse us, gentlemen.”
And he drew her with him through the now thunderous looking bunch and back toward the busy dance floor.
“I cannot thank you enough for that,” said the young lady, resting a practiced hand on his shoulder as they stepped into the dance. “I utterly hate these functions.”
“May I find your companions after this dance and take you to them?” Piett asked, turning her slowly and coming back together.
“Possibly,” replied the girl. She had masses of rich chesnut hair piled in artful curls on her head. They tumbled slightly at the front to frame a heart shaped face which was dominated by those beautiful brown eyes. It was not surprising that she was much sought after. But a title had been mentioned….
“I am Lady Leia Organa Skywalker,” she said before he could ask. “Yes, Lord Vader is my Father, and yes, Commander Skywalker is my brother. I trust that you will not seek to leverage my position like the louts we just left.”
******
He looked appalled at the notion and she was reaffirmed in her decision to go with him.
“My Lady,” he said after a beat, “a gentleman does not use ‘leverage’ like that. He deals plainly and honestly.”
“I believe you,” she replied, and they smiled at each other. Leia liked what it did for his face. She studied him as they moved through the dance.
In his late thirties perhaps, lean countenance, browned by the sun, and large hazel eyes. Brown hair that was rebelliously trying to curl despite being tied back at his neck and pleasant lines at his mouth and the corners of his eyes.
There was something about him that made her feel safe, and as he met her gaze briefly, she realized just how kind his eyes were.
“I fear I’m stepping all over your feet, my Lady,” he said, slightly awkwardly. “I must confess that I learned to dance at small country affairs.”
“Oh, Captain,” she said, “I would give a great deal to be dancing at one of those right now. I do love to dance you see, but this? This is all of us on show, and it's exhausting and dull.”
He nodded in understanding. “I feel precisely the same way. I do not envy a lady in your position. I can only imagine the challenges of navigating these shark infested waters.”
His mouth curled slightly, and one eyebrow raised at her.
Oh she liked him a great deal indeed.
“Have you ever met someone and felt as though you have known them for much longer than you really have?” she asked as they turned again.
“Not in a pleasant way,” he replied, giving her a quizzical look. “I hope you are not fatigued….”
She smiled at him warmly to dispel any concern. “I very much meant in a good way, Captain. I rather feel as though we have been friends for much longer.”
She saw his pleased startlement at that statement, but then the music ended and he bowed. “If you would direct me….” he began, but Leia had spotted Sanders looking her way and she turned to the Captain abruptly.
“Dance with me again,” she commanded, and that did get both eyebrows.
“My Lady, I may be rather rough in knowing the protocols for these occasions, but I am reasonably sure I should not….”
“Please,” she said, “I am being hunted. I am rather hoping they will think you are one of my family members and leave me alone.”
Something she couldn’t identify crossed his face, but he smoothed it away and bowed slightly once more. “Then of course, I cannot leave you in such straights, my Lady.”
“Thank you, sir,” she responded as the instruments picked up a livelier tune for a reel and she could see that the officer was more apprehensive.
“Do you know the reel?” she asked as he took her in his arms once more.
“I know a reel,” he told her, “but I must confess that I am not a great dancer. I will of course do my best….”
“I will help direct us,” Leia told him firmly, and they set off.
The music was infectious and rather reminiscent (at least to Leia’s ear) of something one might hear aboard ship. She wondered if this Captain felt it too as his eyes seemed brighter. And yes, he was rougher in his movement here, but not terrible, and he was very quick to pick up her suggestions.
There was no breath to talk in this dance, but she was smiling widely as it finished and her joy even coaxed another small curl of the mouth for this naval Captain.
“You have been more than gallant, sir,” she said as he led her to a table with cold drinks. “I should know the name of my rescuer.”
He handed her a glass. “Captain Firmus Piett, of his Majesty’s Royal Navy, my Lady. It has been an honor.”
She studied him. She could hear that slight trick of an accent under the cultured tones he had cultivated.
“Where do you come from, Captain Piett?” she asked, taking a refreshing sip. She saw his minute hesitation and then he sighed very lightly.
“I was born and raised in Manchester, my Lady.” He said this in a resigned manner, and she realized that he was waiting for her to put him off now. She felt a strong flash of contempt for her own class that he was immediately expecting such treatment.
She deliberately slipped her hand over his arm and tugged gently. “I would very much like to hear why you joined the Royal Navy, Captain. It is warm in here, perhaps we could speak on the terrace?”
He was surprised and grateful she could see, but allowed himself to be drawn.
“I do not wish to bore you to tears, my Lady.”
She laughed as they at last reached the fresh air of the outdoors. Below in the gardens, other dancers were taking a turn to refresh themselves before returning to the festivities.
“I assure you, Captain, it is talk about the dreadfully mundane events in upper class society that does such a thing. I am an Admiral’s daughter. I would hear tales of the sea and ships.”
He waited for her to seat herself on a bench by the balustrade, and he leaned against the smooth stone.
“I….have always loved the ocean, my Lady. Growing up in a landlocked part of our country, I would dream of the day I could view it. I had a glimpse of the coast on one trip that I took to Liverpool as a boy. I fell in love with it then.”
She watched his face soften at the memory.
“And you, my Lady? Aside from being an Admiral’s daughter, what draws you to the sea?”
“Where it can take you,” Leia answered immediately. “I love that vast blue expanse, and all the things that may be just over the horizon in any direction. And I love the ships themselves, Captain. I cannot explain it. I have been on many of them, and I think I understand why sailors find their ‘ladies’ to be so very personal.”
He studied her a moment and smiled once more. “Your father must be very pleased to have two children so enamored of the sea."
And he couldn’t know that she was hardly acquainted with her Father, or he with her. She doubted he knew of her love for the sea.
Leia suppressed the pain this thought brought her and smiled at the Captain. “I’m sure he is, sir. I think it comes from both sides of the family, our love for exploring. My mother was apparently very capable of sailing herself.”
“Your mother…..was Padme’ Amidala, I believe?” he asked carefully.
“Yes. She died in childbirth. Luke and I are twins you see. It was….very hard.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” he told her.
An old ache and one that Leia was long familiar with. “Thank you,” she responded. “I must confess that some of my happiest hours of childhood were imagining her sailing a ship with my Father. I pretended to sail often myself on the pond.”
He nodded. “I did something similar as a boy on the streams near us. I confess to always wearing a stick as a saber.”
“Do you have children?” Leia asked. There was something about him that made her think that this was what a father should feel like.
His countenance was quite suddenly sad and he turned to gaze out at the shadowy gardens below, lit occasionally by flickering torches.
“I do not,” he replied.
“Family then? Someone you come home to after your deployments?”
He cleared his throat slightly and looked back at her. “No, my Lady. About fifteen years ago now, a terrible typhoid epidemic swept the south side of the city. My mother and two sisters did not survive that. I had just embarked on my first posting and….”
He trailed off as the memories loomed large. “You know how slowly the post travels. I learned of their deaths upon my return.”
Impulsively she put a hand on his arm.
“I’m so very sorry, Captain. You must get terribly lonely.”
Why had she said that? It was too personal, she had no right…..
She was projecting how she would feel onto him. How she did feel.
He sighed and stared down into his glass. “I suppose that’s true in a way, my Lady. But...I love my ships you see. I am not alone when my feet are on deck and the wind is in my face. That may sound a trifle silly to you, but….”
“Not at all,” she replied emphatically. “How I wish I had that recourse!”
He looked at her inquiringly. “Do you…..surely you cannot be lonely, my Lady, a woman such as yourself?”
“Thank you, Captain, but trust me when I say it is very possible to be quite alone in this position. My Father and brother are at sea. And I-----I am left here to play the role I was born to. How I wish I could join all of you!”
Why was she telling him this? She had only ever shared this with Luke on his last leave.
But he was looking at her with compassion in his eyes.
“I am sorry, my Lady. Something tells me you would have made a fine officer.”
He was not teasing, but he smiled and she returned it, suddenly feeling much better than a few moments before.
“What is your ship, Captain? I might know her.”
“I have just been given command of the Devastator, my Lady.”
Oh
.
“Have you now?” she said aloud. “The Vice-Admiral’s flagship then? She’s lovely. Too bad the same cannot be said of her Admiral.”
And she knew it was impertinent but she despised the man, and already did not like the thought that this reserved and courteous Captain would be taking orders from such a class conscious oaf.
He tilted his head ever so slightly and carefully avoided comment on that. “She is lovely indeed. I look forward to seeing what we can do together.”
“You have met Admiral Ozzel then?” she pushed, and knew that he had from the way his expression became carefully blank.
“I have,” he agreed.
“Then you know what an insufferable and pretentious ass he is already. I am saying it because I know that you cannot.”
His eyes danced a little at that, and he placed his glass down to clasp his hands behind him.
“Very true, my Lady.”
“Are you agreeing with my statement, or the fact that you cannot say anything?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling now. He really had a very nice smile.
“Oh very well,” Leia returned, smiling back and rising. “Be the good officer then. I should return and find Luke. But I am sorry to end this conversation.” She took his offered arm, and they strolled back toward the brightly lit ballroom. A thought struck her, and she decided to voice it before she pondered it too much and became a coward.
“Captain…..how would you feel if I wrote to you? I only really have Luke at the moment and his letters are always so short. And Father….” she stopped. He did not need to know the pain she tried to bury concerning her aloof parent.
“Ah, well, of course I would be honored, your Ladyship. I am not sure what I could write you about…..”
“Oh I am not asking for anything you ought not to share. I would just…..could you just describe your day? Make me see it as though I was there on the deck with you? I could escape for a little while you see, and imagine that I can hear the gulls or see the dolphins racing you.”
He looked down at her in understanding. “That I can do, my Lady.”
Then he stiffened, and it was as though he was bracing himself for battle. She followed his gaze just as the fruity overbred tones of an offended Admiral sounded.
“Piett! What do you think you’re doing?”