Chapter 12

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A/N: Warning! My writing has a tendency to reflect whatever I've been doing or reading . . . well, I've started reading Romeo & Juliet soo . . . 
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  Once envious, but envious no more. Long-time sisters, but nearly strangers now. Used to tell everything to the other, now their lips sealed with dried carbonite. Winter wasn't sure she liked Leia anymore. After Leia pushed past her on her way up the stairs, Winter scoffed, hurrying down to the Organas' living room. There she found Bail as he said his proper goodbyes to the senators as they left. He shook hands with Mothma and Ackbar, then they filed out with the rest. Bail turned to her, a smile coming to his lips. "Winter," he approached her. "How are you, dear? What brings you down here?"

  Sir," she called him. She never had felt very comfortable calling him father as he had always insisted I just saw Leia and she seemed rather upset. She told me you wanted to speak with me? About a mission, I think?"
  Bail's smile transformed into a weary frown and he sighed, seating himself on the couch and motioned for Winter to join him. She took a seat across from him in a tall chair and listened to his words. "I'm afraid she might have overheard some of my discussion with other Rebels. We have been speaking about you and Leia joining and performing some tasks for the Rebellion."

  Winter brightened at this and her head came up. "Tasks? Like missions against the Empire?"
  "Of course."

  "And Leia wants to be sent for those missions."

  "Yes."
  "Why won't you?"

  Bail faltered, something Winter so rarely saw him do. Always confident was the viceroy, he must be very worried, Winter figured. He turned away for a second and when he turned back, his lips were quivering. "It isn't that I don't trust Leia because I do. In fact, I would love for her to be on these missions, for her to be out there like she wants to, but I don't want her to."
  "You don't want her to what? I don't think she sees things this way. From the little I just saw of her, I think she believes you don't trust her."
  "I know, but that's not true. Winter, I don't want her out there on the front lines. I want her to be safe-"

  "That isn't Leia," Winter said with a small smile. "You can't just keep her from the fight. It's what she's starving for."

  "I know, but she doesn't understand." Bail frowned, his brows knitting together in a way that usually meant he was about to lie. "She doesn't belong out there," he told Winter. "She doesn't belong on the front lines." He visibly winced. "She belongs here, away from the danger, safe here."

  Winter nodded, almost uncomfortable in the midst of so many lies as she began to go leave. "So, there's a mission you're sending me on?"
  Bail returned her gaze and answered in near monotone, "Yes, Winter. A Corellian resistance cell has obtained the Emperor's plans for his super weapon. We need you to deliver them to a General Kenobi who lives on Tatooine. He'll know what to do with the plans once you have delivered them to him."
  "Of course, Viceroy. Where on Tatooine does he live?"
  "North of Anchorhead. Mon Mothma wishes to send you out in a month to keep suspicions quiet."

  "Yes, Viceroy."
  "And, whatever you do, Winter . . ."
  "Yes, Viceroy?"

  "Don't tell Leia."

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  When Bail came into his room, his wife was already settled into bed on her side, the silky sheets pulled up to her shoulders. A sad smile graced her lips and when Bail got into bed with her, she sat up and stroked his cheek, asking in a doubtful tone, "What are you doing, B?"

  "Something the matter?"
  "Yes. Something is quite the matter." Her tone remained soft, a light whisper somehow strong enough to keep Bail's attention. "Why are you sending Winter on this mission?"

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