He blinked heavy eyes and struggled for breath, savoring the last image of his son kneeling beside him.
"Now go, my son…" He managed. "Tell your sister you were right about me…you were right." And his hands would no longer obey his command to grasp, and he sank back against the bulkhead; closing his eyes one last time on one world, and opening them on another.
He went from slumping against a bulkhead in a dying ship to standing in the middle of a field of wildflowers. Their varied colors were so incredible that he passed a hand over his eyes in disbelief. Drawing his hand back, he realized that it was no longer a technological creation of synthflesh and metal, but his own hand, composed of flesh and blood.
Marveling at this fact, he heard a voice calling his name from behind. As he turned, a warm breeze caressed his face; a sweet smell that somehow reminded him of Tatooine.
Squinting his eyes to recognize the face approaching him, he took in the homespun clothes, the hair carefully pinned into a bun, and as she came close enough, the faint wrinkles around her eyes that deepened when she laughed.
Standing in front of him, she held a hand up to make him pause. He held his arms out at his sides, and spun around so she could "get a good look at you, my boy." Satisfied with his appearance, Shmi Skywalker held her arms out to her son and he enveloped her in his arms.
When he finally pulled away, Shmi smiled up at him (for now the tables were turned, and he was the taller of the two) and wiped the tears of joy from his own wrinkled cheeks.
"Oh Anakin, my son." She said, smiling at him warmly. "You look exactly the same as when I last saw you." Laughing, he replied, "Time has been kind to you as well, Mother."
As she hugged him again, Shmi murmured to his chest, "But Time has much to repent for, Ani. At least here, we are free from it." Pulling away, she patted his face. "But Time as you call it wishes for me to let you go, for now." At his protests, she put her hands on her hips; reminiscent of the times she had scolded him as a child. "There is another who is waiting for you here." Coyly she said, "I believe she will be just as happy to see you as you are to see her."
Before he could take a breath to respond, she smiled at him, turned and disappeared. He decided to wait and see who this other was who wanted to see him, and picked one of the vibrant wildflowers that bloomed all around his feet. Inhaling its fragrance, he rubbed at one of the silky petals, thinking about the evening on the bridge when he had given Her a flower just like this one.
Suddenly he heard a noise behind him and spun, thanking his Jedi senses for quick reflexes. And She was there, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, and hair immaculately in place, as if the warm summer breeze did not affect her.
She smiled coolly at him, and dipped her regal head in greeting.
"Hello Anakin." She said in the voice reserved for her Queen persona. "It's been a long time." Suddenly filled with the desperation that 20 years of separation can bring, he longed to step forward and take her in his arms. As if sensing his longing, she took a small step backwards, her silken robes whispering about her.
He nodded and swallowed dryly, trying to think of something to say to her. Would his apology be enough? He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he had caused her. The years before and after his turning would have driven away a lesser woman, but she alone had stayed; or tried to, at least. He closed his eyes to ward away the memory of their last goodbye. Tears had soaked her cheeks, and her pleas to him, her husband Anakin, to come back to her had haunted him even during the nights when he had existed as Vader.
What was he to say to her now? A thought struck him, and he knelt in front of her, head bowed and eyes closed. He swallowed, hoping that inspiration would come to him and free his voice. Sensing movement above him, he opened his eyes and looked up from the ground.
He realized that she had knelt in front of him, and placed her left hand on his shoulder. They froze there for a moment, both unsure as to what the other would do next. Temporarily swallowing his guilt and his fear, he raised his head all the way and met her eyes. The twin brown orbs that met his blue ones were warm, gentle, and swimming in tears that he longed to kiss away.
"Amidala, my love..." He began, and stopped. What did he mean to say? He had caused her and millions of others worlds of pain. He had no right to ask her forgiveness. She was an angel, like he had first thought those many years ago when she first walked into Watto's junk shop as the unassuming handmaiden of a great queen. Her eyes captured his gaze, and looked deep into his soul. Then he knew that words were not required. He opened his mouth to say more, and she threw her arms around him, sobbing his name and burying her face in his shoulder.
Bewildered and grateful, he carefully put his arms around her small body, and they kneeled there together in the field of flowers, united once again.
"Now go, my son…" He managed. "Tell your sister you were right about me…you were right." And his hands would no longer obey his command to grasp, and he sank back against the bulkhead; closing his eyes one last time on one world, and opening them on another.
He went from slumping against a bulkhead in a dying ship to standing in the middle of a field of wildflowers. Their varied colors were so incredible that he passed a hand over his eyes in disbelief. Drawing his hand back, he realized that it was no longer a technological creation of synthflesh and metal, but his own hand, composed of flesh and blood.
Marveling at this fact, he heard a voice calling his name from behind. As he turned, a warm breeze caressed his face; a sweet smell that somehow reminded him of Tatooine.
Squinting his eyes to recognize the face approaching him, he took in the homespun clothes, the hair carefully pinned into a bun, and as she came close enough, the faint wrinkles around her eyes that deepened when she laughed.
Standing in front of him, she held a hand up to make him pause. He held his arms out at his sides, and spun around so she could "get a good look at you, my boy." Satisfied with his appearance, Shmi Skywalker held her arms out to her son and he enveloped her in his arms.
When he finally pulled away, Shmi smiled up at him (for now the tables were turned, and he was the taller of the two) and wiped the tears of joy from his own wrinkled cheeks.
"Oh Anakin, my son." She said, smiling at him warmly. "You look exactly the same as when I last saw you." Laughing, he replied, "Time has been kind to you as well, Mother."
As she hugged him again, Shmi murmured to his chest, "But Time has much to repent for, Ani. At least here, we are free from it." Pulling away, she patted his face. "But Time as you call it wishes for me to let you go, for now." At his protests, she put her hands on her hips; reminiscent of the times she had scolded him as a child. "There is another who is waiting for you here." Coyly she said, "I believe she will be just as happy to see you as you are to see her."
Before he could take a breath to respond, she smiled at him, turned and disappeared. He decided to wait and see who this other was who wanted to see him, and picked one of the vibrant wildflowers that bloomed all around his feet. Inhaling its fragrance, he rubbed at one of the silky petals, thinking about the evening on the bridge when he had given Her a flower just like this one.
Suddenly he heard a noise behind him and spun, thanking his Jedi senses for quick reflexes. And She was there, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, and hair immaculately in place, as if the warm summer breeze did not affect her.
She smiled coolly at him, and dipped her regal head in greeting.
"Hello Anakin." She said in the voice reserved for her Queen persona. "It's been a long time." Suddenly filled with the desperation that 20 years of separation can bring, he longed to step forward and take her in his arms. As if sensing his longing, she took a small step backwards, her silken robes whispering about her.
He nodded and swallowed dryly, trying to think of something to say to her. Would his apology be enough? He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he had caused her. The years before and after his turning would have driven away a lesser woman, but she alone had stayed; or tried to, at least. He closed his eyes to ward away the memory of their last goodbye. Tears had soaked her cheeks, and her pleas to him, her husband Anakin, to come back to her had haunted him even during the nights when he had existed as Vader.
What was he to say to her now? A thought struck him, and he knelt in front of her, head bowed and eyes closed. He swallowed, hoping that inspiration would come to him and free his voice. Sensing movement above him, he opened his eyes and looked up from the ground.
He realized that she had knelt in front of him, and placed her left hand on his shoulder. They froze there for a moment, both unsure as to what the other would do next. Temporarily swallowing his guilt and his fear, he raised his head all the way and met her eyes. The twin brown orbs that met his blue ones were warm, gentle, and swimming in tears that he longed to kiss away.
"Amidala, my love..." He began, and stopped. What did he mean to say? He had caused her and millions of others worlds of pain. He had no right to ask her forgiveness. She was an angel, like he had first thought those many years ago when she first walked into Watto's junk shop as the unassuming handmaiden of a great queen. Her eyes captured his gaze, and looked deep into his soul. Then he knew that words were not required. He opened his mouth to say more, and she threw her arms around him, sobbing his name and burying her face in his shoulder.
Bewildered and grateful, he carefully put his arms around her small body, and they kneeled there together in the field of flowers, united once again.