Disclaimer: I certainly don't own Star Wars, have I dreamt about owning Luke? Maybe... but I don't!
Hey, and thanks for taking the time to read my book. Just a few things that most definitely need to be known about this story, we have a suitless Vader! But his face will most likely be covered with a hood unless he's alone or with trustable people. This is not set in the ROTJ period, we still don't have Han back (cries in the corner because Han is my second favourite character) and we most certainly don't have badass Luke. I freaking love Luke in ROTJ but for this book I needed him a little more innocent, scared almost, he still puts up a good fight but a little more dependent on Vader, what can I say I love my lil' space angel XD, I think that's everything. Just go ahead and try to enjoy this mess I call a book!
Darth Vader angrily paced around his meditation chamber, cloak flapping out behind him with every pivot. In a heat of anger he ripped the clasp open, allowing the heavy fabric to flutter to the ground in a puddle of black. It was very rarely the dark lord did anything without the privacy of his long robe, often hiding his ageing facial expressions from the prying eyes of every imperial. Even in the safety of his own quarters, unless attending to his own personal hygiene, it was always secured to his shoulders, but that day was no ordinary day. In fact that day had changed a lot of things for many people, possibly the entire galaxy.
He let out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his greying blond hair. He wasn't usually one to show his frustrations, it was almost always fuelled into anger that he would use to intimidate the lower ranking imperials, however distractions were looming behind every corner and they were all incredibly infuriating. The dark lord couldn't focus on anything, paperwork seemed to scramble itself together on the datapad and he no longer had the energy to focus on training after that failure of a mission. He struggled to focus on absolutely anything he attempted to put his mind to that wasn't somehow linked to his 'problem'.
Vader had just returned from his own personal mission of retrieving a fallen X-Wing pilot that had gone spiralling down through the atmosphere of the planet Jabiim after a shoot off. Of course the pilot was no ordinary rebel, if he had been Vader wouldn't have even bothered himself with the lowlife, merely sending a squadron to retrieve the traitor for interrogations, but the boy wasn't any other rebel. The boy was Luke Skywalker.
Vader couldn't even bring himself to lie when describing the nasty thorn in his side he called his son. He was a disrespectful, arrogant, vicious little creature, most certainly a Skywalker. He had only had 2 direct encounters with the sandy haired rebel, on Cymoon 1 and on cloud city. As a Sith Lord, Vader didn't feel regrets or pity towards anybody, excluding his deceased wife Padme, yet after the heavy combat between father and son on the gas planet Bespin a mere 7 months before, Vader couldn't shake the strong feeling of conflict that loomed over him. Luke had extreme potential, the boy had a pure gift if handled correctly and Vader knew he no longer had any chance of recruiting the boy through Luke's own will, he was afraid of him, the fool had been willing to accept death over his father's hand.
A part of Vader insisted the rotten wench should indeed be afraid of him. The brat had cost him so much and he was an all powering Sith Lord, second in command to the empire, men shook at his feet, pleaded for their lives, it should be no different for Luke whether the boy was his son or not. Yet he couldn't shun the conflicted paracusia that often cancelled out his original thoughts. Luke WAS his son, the bond between and father and son should be like no other, there should be trust and comfort, respect played a huge part in a parental role but the difference between respect and fear was split by a very thin line. Only he could somehow land himself a son on the opposite side to everything he was working for.
Still, he was never ashamed of the truth, Luke was a rebel but a powerful one at that. It had been only three years since the battle of Yavin and he had found out the boy became a Commander shortly afterwards, surely that had been unheard of. Luke was heavily gifted in many things, specifically the force and piloting, much like his father.
Father, the word was such a sour title. The dark lord had never known his father, his mother insisted he never had one in the first place. Were sons meant to be afraid of their fathers? Was it just a lie that relations got on so well? Whether that was true or not, there was no bond between Vader and his son as of yet. The fear radiated off of Luke whenever his father was around, clear as the suns on Tatooine.
It never seemed to falter, even in his unconscious state on the dirty planet of Jabiim. Upon arrival the boy had been hanging out of his X-Wing's tiny cockpit, his face bloody and bruised, his tasteless orange suit was ripped and torn and according to the force his pain scale was beyond belief. Luke seemed motionless until Vader, Admiral Piett and a squadron of stormtroopers had exited the shuttle, to which Luke began to panic, uncontrollably flopping around as he hung over the side of the spacecraft. In an attempt to show little bother Vader was quick to send a chunk of metal from the broken ship into the blond's head, knocking him completely out of it. He gruffly ordered the Admiral to have the astromech sent to maintenance to be searched for rebellion data, while the troops were commanded to retrieve the rebel scum and have him thrown in a cell, guarded with the highest security.
"What about his wounds sir?" One had asked, a dumb question really, for two separate reasons. If it had been anybody else Vader wouldn't have even allowed the hostage food, let alone medical treatment, however due to circumstances being what they were, Vader would have Carrie Kelvin, his personal medic, a woman he only interacted with due to her unique abilities, attend to the boy's wounds after he was retrieved from the detention centre.
It was comical in a dark humoured sort of way, the third in line to the empire was lying on the floor of a dirty cell, covered in wounds and forced into a prison uniform that most likely didn't fit him. From what Vader had seen Luke was small for his age, either taking after his mother's build or just extremely malnourished, either way he was slim with only little muscle on his arms.
He didn't look like much of a Sith Lord, but he did have the handsome face one would expect of an imperial prince.
"That's right, he's third in line to the legacy" Vader hissed to himself, collecting his robe from its crumpled pile on the floor.
If he had been the one to raise the boy he would make sure his offspring never found himself in such embarrassing situations, he would've been raised on Coruscant in the imperial palace, it may have been nearer to the emperor than preferred but he would've put up with it for his son. The child would've had the best tutors in the galaxy to teach him how to read and write, he'd be taught mathematics and engineering, and only Vader would be the one to teach Luke how to fly. A prince such as his son would only be allowed to make companions out of other high ranking imperial children, the boy would be showered with compliments and gifts at imperial gathering events. Vader didn't know anything about Luke's real childhood, or how much of it mirrored his fantasy, but whoever raised the wench obviously raised an unruly and reckless little brat. The only facts Vader had on his son that he knew were accurate were his name, parentage and age. He must've been 22 without looking it at all. It had been 22 years since his beloved wife's death, 22 years of pain and suffering, 22 years of self abuse over killing his wife and unborn baby.
Oh how Padme would've adored their son. From what Vader could grasp at through the force Luke was just like him at that age, idiotically reckless and had little care for his own safety. If Padme had been behind Lukes wheel he knew without a doubt he would have turned out very differently. She would have cared for him, raised him with respect and manners (something he assumed his son lacked in) and brought him up to be a remarkable young man. Yet instead of allowing his wife to blossom a life, he had stolen hers and almost their baby's. Well at least that's what he had believed for the majority of that time. If it had been true, and he had killed Padme on the spot, she would not have been able to give birth to their son, Luke was living, breathing proof that he wasn't responsible for her death, or at least not entirely.
As much as he hated admitting it Padme was gone, there was no reviving her, and Luke was all that was left of her. The boy was the new reason for Vader not to brood over the past, but to live in the future, a future with his son at his side as the two ruled over the galaxy. Visions flashed through his mind of his son, the blue in the boy's eyes highlighted his features, bringing them together like a bow atop of a gift. Yellow didn't suit them as much, but it wouldn't matter. They had a journey ahead of them before Luke's complexion paled and his eyes darkened. He wouldn't leave it much longer before going to collect the boy, Kelvin would heal him and he would begin to fix their bond, he would show Luke everything he was doing was for the boy's own good. He wouldn't allow Luke to sit through an interrogation, that would worsen the strained 'relationship' they already had. He sighed, brushing a piece of his hair out of his eyeline.
Luke would be fine, he would collect the boy in three days time, order Dr. Kelvin to clear her entire schedule and she would cure every wound the boy had, then it would be Vader's turn to slowly break the boy's faith in the rebellion, if Luke was anything like his mother he had an emotional side underneath his tough exterior, and exteriors were easily broken.
At that thought Vader reached peace, the feeling he had been searching for. He settled to the floor quickly, finding a relaxing state of mind to ponder the emperors demise, a little exercise he often did to really pump his hatred.
'HELP!' a scream radiated throughout his mind, knocking his focus for the what felt like the hundredth time. Vader was too concerned by the alarming voice to grow angry over his lack of concentration. That cry for help was his son!
'Luke?' He called after sinking back into his link with the boy. 'Son, this would be the first time you've reached out to me is it not?'
'It was an accident!' The boy roared, his pain scale radiating through the force. 'I don't need YOUR help! I'm desperate but never that desperate!'
The pain waves the boy was unknowingly admitting almost seemed as if they were mocking him, he was purely in denial.
'I see. Well while I have your attention, you usually seem quite unwilling to listen, I'm going to ask what your so desperately trying to escape from?'
'That's none of your concern Vader' Luke spat in reply, following it with a scream of agony. Truly pathetic in the dark lord's eyes.
'Your constant screams seemed to contradict you son-'
'Don't call me son! I'm- I'm not your son! And even if I was I'd want nothing to do with you!'
Vader remained silent for a moment, pondering over how to approach the disrespectful rebel without causing the boy more pain, the more effort Luke put into the argument the less energy he would have to sustain whatever was affecting him.
'Need I remind you that you are but a prisoner here? Whether you choose to admit to the truth or not you would still be under my command'
'No! That's utter sithspit! I'm never going to follow your orders, nev- AGH!' Vader was quick to rise to his feet, if Luke wouldn't tell him what was wrong he would merely go and find out.
'If you're so insistent you can handle your own issues, why would you feel the need to keep this conversation alive?' Vader asked, pulling his hood over his greying blond-ish hair. When Luke didn't reply he rolled his eyes, immaturity at its finest. After securing his saber to his belt, Vader was quick to leave. The walk from his quarters to the detention level was quite a distance, he had specifically made it clear that the prisoners screams and shouts would affect his meditation and were not to be anywhere near him.
'Don't you dare come and get me! I'll- or I'll-'
"You'll what?' Vader cut him off, alarmingly surprised Luke was able to sense his plans to retrieve him. He made sure to keep the guard up around his mind. 'Are you going to scream? Throw some sort of tantrum like a child? You don't have any power son, I wouldn't fight my authority, you're wasting the energy I can feel you need'
'I will fight you with every ounce of energy I have Vader! I won't ever stop!' Luke's connection began to tremble and vader could sense his sons exhaustion's. First thing he certainly would need to teach the boy would be to shield his thoughts and feelings.
'You're exhausted little one, we may not be able to keep this connection open long enough, think about the room you're occupying, think about everything you see right now' he wasn't expecting Luke to comply so well but quickly enough the room began to gather in Vader's mind, the dark space black walls, with red flashing buttons and yellow lights smeared down the side of them. He could see an imperial looming over him, holding what seemed to be a syringe above Luke's field of vision. It was easy to identify by his uniform that the man was a mere captain, it didn't make him any less at fault for damaging his son. He felt his smirk grow larger, the man wouldn't get away with even touching a hair on Luke's head.
'Well done my son' he praised with difficulty, he was never one to give out praise, belittling comments and abusive demands were more his thing, but this was Luke, his son, Padme's son. 'I'll be there in a moment Luke' he promised quietly.
Much to his surprise the boy didn't retaliate to the new title of 'son', just merely whimpered in reply to his father, the boy was weak. 'Are you now ready to tell me what's going on?' He asked, despite already roughly understanding the boy was facing an unannounced interrogation.
'I- AGH! I was just laying in my cell! I was half asleep and he came, cuffed me and began pulling me towards a room! I never expected to be interrogated! I- AGH' the connection fell silent for a moment, before an ear shattering scream erupted from Luke's throat. 'Ok! I give up' He yelled, the boys voice openly hoarse. 'I don't care what you do to me just get me away from this! Father!'
Father, the boy had called him father.
'I'm coming son' he replied quickly. If anything encouraged the man to walk faster it was certainly that, ignoring the dignified troopers raising a hand and welcome him with a 'm'lord', his mind was set on Luke and Luke only. He hadn't even realised the cell block Luke was in was due interrogations, how could he have been so foolish to make such a mistake. He stormed into the interrogation corridor, angry at the thought, making prisoners shiver as he glided past.
He scanned the numbers and found it with ease, realising it wasn't a very far walk from the entrance. He punched the code into the metal panel, the door opening up with an angry hiss. Vader's eyes cascaded from the shocked captain, a shining syringe in his hand, down to his bleeding, sobbing and very pale son. The imperial jumped when he noticed Vader enter and ended up tugging on Luke's bloody blond locks in surprise, earning another flinch that jolted Luke's features.
"Ah Lord Vader! It's nice to see the rebel scum cry and beg isn't it? The pathetic lowlifes must pay for ever attacking the empire" Vader felt his presence darken, darker than it had ever fallen before. He was quick to scan Luke down in his peripheral vision, his small forehead cut open with a huge gash to show, his chest was bare, bony and bloody, while his arms and neck had been cut, stabbed, peeled and burnt, his feet were no better. Luke's hair clung to his forehead with sweat, the blond filaments matted and covered with blood, causing his hair to stick together in clumps. The captain obviously took Vader's silence as a ticket to continue, plunging the syringe deep into Luke's arm. The boy jolted out in pain, screaming like a banshee. "We don't usually use physical brute tactics sir, but this rebel wasn't responding to any needles and serums, he mocked us whenever we tried. After we began rubbing burnt out lasers against his skin he began sobbing for his father-" Vader watched Luke's face scrunch up in embarrassment. "It's usually the mother they cry for, guess this one was a daddy's boy" Vader took a few large steps towards his whimpering child, attempting to remain calm as surges of Luke's pain radiated through the force.
"H-Help me- p-p-please..." Luke's head lolled to the side, just for the brutal captain to press down on the boy's ribs with the end of a blaster.
"Lord Vader doesn't have time for you, you disgusting traitor, he especially isn't going to help you! And neither is your father, anyone would be ashamed to have a son like you" the words echoed around Vader's head as Luke wailed in pain and discomfort. If the rebel had been anybody else he would be extremely pleased with the captain's efforts to torture the enemy, but it was Luke, and Luke didn't deserve any of this. He would take care of the imbecilic imperial later, the task at of getting Luke down to his quarters was much more important at the time.
"I will handle it from here" Vader finally spoke up, pulling away the imperials hand with the force in temper. "I know this rebel and would take great pleasure in continuing his torture session"
The captain nodded obediently, reaching down and pulling the sharp metal from Luke's arm and handing it to Vader, giving the small rebel a maniacal smile as he began to walk away. Luke's eyes were extremely dull, tears dribbling down his cheeks like tiny waterfalls. Vader felt extreme guilt fill his chest as Luke's eyes continued to well and drip with even more tears, he looked too much like Padme in that moment. The young adult had never come across as childish to his father, innocent and naive but never childlike, however that didn't stop how desperate he was to hold his child close, hug him and turn him into the imperial prince he was always destined to be.
Once Vader was absolutely sure the imperial had left and the cell door was certainly shut he perched down on the edge of the prison bench, resting a hand on the waist restraint that Luke could easily slip out of with his slender stomach. He could feel the anger, sorrow, worry and fear shining from the boy, the same amount of fear that radiated from him on Jabiim, if not more. He slowly undid the restraints around Luke's hands and feet, taking each wrist and lowering them across the boy's thin stomach, leaving the belt tight to prevent Luke getting up.
"Take them all off! Now!" Luke yelled through his tears "Let me go back to the alliance! I won't join! I refuse! You'll be forced to kill me!"
The boy hysterically thrashed his head from side to side and attempting to kick at Vader, who found it highly amusing Luke's short legs couldn't reach him at the end of the bench.
"Young one, remain calm, turning you to the dark side isn't a priority of mine when you are injured, I would prefer you fully recovered before assigning you as my apprentice, you have to breathe son, otherwise I'll have to use methods you won't like"
"No more torture! Please don't! You say you care but you-!" The smaller man shouted, bringing his legs further away from Vader in pure panic, despite the obvious pain it brought to move. "Why did I ever think I could trust you! I'm such a weak fool for even letting my guard down for even a minute!"
"I never said my goal was to torture you Luke" he replied softly. "If you continue to act in such a hysterical manner I'd have to put you to sleep, with the force, and I'm sure you'd rather keep your dignity intact" the boy blinked up at him curiously, his chest rising and falling quicker than expected.
"I'm sorry" Luke whimpered, clutching his hair with his hands.
"No need for an apology. You feel vulnerable, I can feel it through the force, you cannot apologise for how you feel"
"I don't like that you understand"
Vader sighed in defeat, he often didn't like he understood the boy either, it would only be best if he changed the subject completely.
"When was the last time you slept?" He asked, noticing the small bags under Luke's eyes. He didn't answer right away, he looked away from Vader in embarrassment "I'm assuming if it's taking you this long to remember it was quite a while ago"
"I guess, sleeping in clothes that drape you like a curtain with no other heat source while worrying about your friends but also what's going to happen to you will do that to a person" he mumbled, rubbing the blood from his cheek. "But you wouldn't know that would you"
"Because I'm not human? If I wasn't human how would your mother and I be able to you have created you?"
"I'm not- I don't know- the force" Vader felt an odd sense run through his veins at the boy's brattish ways of answering his questions, almost like humour. He placed a hand on top of Luke's head, rubbing his thumb over the open gash, the flap of skin rubbing at Vader's glove. He sent calming waves to Luke through the force, slowly sending the boy off to sleep with little reluctance.
First chapter to a brand new book. The cover was drawn by myself which is why it is shockingly bad, to avoid confusion it is supposed to be Luke forced into an imperial uniform while Vader antagonisingly plays with his hair, because fluff. I have had huge writers block for over a month now, and the only way to get out of it is getting the creativity churning again.
Anyways fave it, follow it, forget it, do whatever you want with it. (Also please review!)
- Briar x