Title: Home

Author: luxadalric

Characters: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader, Obi Wan Kenobi, Padmé

Rated: T

Summary: Three scenes in Anakin's/Vader's life.

Note: written for the live-journal community fanfic50

fanfic50: #029 Home

…

One

„And this is where we'll spend our private time together, Anakin", Obi Wan Kenobi told him, not quite managing to look cheerful. "Where we'll sleep and eat and … you know."

Anakin Skywalker, nine years old and freshly made Padawan of freshly knighted Obi Wan Kenobi, entered the rooms and looked around.

It was small and he felt relief at that; the immense and overwhelming size of both Coruscant and especially the Jedi Temple and its halls were intimidating to him. He had never been in big rooms before. As slaves, he and his mother were only afforded with small slave-huts in Mos Espa, deranged and sparse and uncomfortable. But his mother had managed to make it their home. It would take some time until this would feel like home to him. Here, he had no one to care for him, only Obi Wan to whom he was grateful for taking him as a Padawan even when the Council had rejected him, but who also was still shaken by the loss of his own master. And though the Jedi Master tried his best, it was clearly felt by Anakin that Obi Wan was uncomfortable around him, the one Qui Gon had preferred and favoured over his year-long Padawan.

Anakin went over to the great window in the living room that gave a view of the cityscape of Coruscant. He recognized the giant dome of the Senate Building and found his gaze searching for Padmé's apartments … there. He smiled. "Great view", he commented and turned back to Obi Wan. "On Tatooine looking out a window was never exciting … you would see only sand and more sand…"

His efforts brought him a slight smile from his master.

"Come. I'll show you to your room."

They went to a set of identical doors leading to identical rooms – there was no favouritism between Jedi Master and Padawan – and the left one was going to be Anakin's. He went in and instantly gasped.

"All of Qui Gon's stuff will be moved out, of course."

Anakin felt like an intruder as he stood amongst the sparse belongings of a great, dead Jedi Master. "What are they going to do with his things?"

Obi Wan lingered uncertainly in the doorframe as if afraid to step into a sacred place. "They will send it back to his family. All except his lightsaber. It goes into the history halls for safekeeping. And for remembering."

"Do they know where his family is? I thought Jedi were taken as babies."

"They are. But records of the family are kept. They are informed and invited to the public Knighting ceremony. And they are informed, of course, of the Jedi's death."

Anakin was quietly thinking for a moment. "Knighting ceremony? You mean … Mom will be invited when I become a Knight?"

"She will."

"Then I want it to happen as soon as possible."

…

This night's sleep was fitful and interspersed with nightmares. Mostly of his mother. Anakin woke early when it was still dark outside, crawled out of bed and found his way, as quietly as possible as not to wake Obi Wan, to the living room. He sat before the window and gazed out. For how long he didn't know.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a sleepy looking Obi Wan who had stepped at his side and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked and there was compassion in his voice.

Anakin shook his head and turned his face once again towards the window, away from Obi Wan. He was not sure if the tears that threatened at his eyes would show. He didn't want Obi Wan to know he was homesick. After all, he had caused enough problems as it was. The last thing he wanted was to add to them because he couldn't control feelings that were not appreciated by the Jedi.

"Me neither", the Jedi Master added and pulled himself a chair, his eyes not leaving his new Padawan.

"Anakin", he started, "I have thought a lot about what has happened, these last few days. There … are some things I want you to know." He paused and Anakin held his breath, anxious. "Anakin, I …" Obi Wan hesitated. "Anakin, look at me."

Anakin Skywalker turned his eyes from the cityscape to his master, slowly as if he expected an admonishment of some kind.

Obi Wan smiled. "I'm not very good at telling these things so I have to rely on your perceptiveness to understand what I'm meaning." This made Anakin smile in return.

"I wanted you to know that you are not only here because Qui Gon wanted it."

"But the Council…"

"Anakin, please listen", Obi Wan told him gently, putting his hand again on the child's shoulder. Yes, he would have to remember this, would have to remind himself. Even if Anakin was very mature in his behaviour and had made a great many experiences in his young life, he was still, after all, very much a child. And he must be frightened now, away from his home and mother, rejected from those he had expected help from. "You are not unwanted here. You are very gifted and strong in the Force, Anakin, and I am very proud to have you as my Padawan. I want this to work because I care about you, Anakin, not because I made a promise to my dying master."

"You really … mean it?"

Obi Wan nodded. "I do."

At this some of the tension left Anakin and he looked at his master thankfully and relieved. Perhaps it wouldn't take as long as he had thought to call this home.

…

Two

The first time.

The first time he came to Coruscant and knew someone was waiting for him, dying to see him, probably. The first time he had entered the Jedi Temple with a secret in his heart that could mean his expulsion from the Jedi should they ever learn the truth. The first time he would lie to Obi Wan … well, about something important, that is. The first time he set foot on another planet as a husband.

He was so happy and so proud he felt he was about to burst with it.

He could barely stop himself from running to Padmé's apartments. So he just made sure to break some speed limits as he flew through the traffic lines as if to confirm how important it was for him to get to Padmé's place.

Anakin Skywalker entered the lift in 500 Republica and took a deep breath. Two weeks. He had been apart from her only two weeks and yet it already felt like a lifetime, as if he was afraid he couldn't remember her voice properly, or the way she walked or the sweet smell of her perfume.

When he finally entered her apartment and felt her arms around his neck, her lips on his no questions remained. He had not forgotten a thing. How could he forget anything about someone as beautiful as her?

"Anakin", she breathed and disentangled herself from his embrace slowly, "I'm so glad you are here."

"As am I, mylady", he said and smiled down on her, with a teasing, youthful and playful twinkle in his eyes.

She took his hand. "Come inside, Annie."

"Are we…"

"Alone? Yes. All work is done and I've sent my handmaidens off for an early evening. It's all ours."

They stepped into the bedroom where not so long ago Anakin had saved her life from the imminent attack of some deadly kohuns. He lingered for a moment and looked around.

Now that they were married the room looked different to him. Felt different to him. Deeper, sated and filled with her presence. Not just a room but the room he shared with Padmé, his wife.

Now, this was home.

The bond he had with Padmé was deeper and more intimate than anything he had ever experienced with the Jedi, anything the Jedi could provide. With her he was able to feel as a man, not just a Jedi. Their love had filled a gaping hole in his mind that had existed for all his life with the Jedi and that they had never been able to even recognize. She had.

Anakin looked at her as she sat on the bed's edge, her arms stretched out towards him. She looked beautiful in diffuse light illuminating her face, glistening in her hair. He opened up to the Force and drank in her presence, sampled every part of it so that he would never forget.

And he realized as he went over to join her, that it was neither this building nor this room that was home to him. It was her. Wherever she was, he knew, he would feel at home.

…

Three

Cold. That was the first thing that came to Darth Vader's mind as he entered his rooms. They were cold. He was cold. He shivered inside his protective suit, even knowing that freezing was now impossible to him as temperature was as carefully regulated as everything else. Nevertheless, he felt cold. But the cold came from within and he knew it would never leave him.

"Leave me", he told the servicing droid that stood at his side and listened to the faint whirring sounds as it retreated. The doors closed and he was alone.

These were his private quarters in his newly built castle on Coruscant. They were spacious as was appropriate for someone of his status. At least that was what Palpatine had told him. He had not yet been introduced as to what his role in this new Empire would be, the Emperor insisting he should take his time to heal.

He stepped around the rooms, making himself familiar with them. Spartan, black, functional yet comfortable. Equipped with all amenities. It meant nothing to him. He didn't need comfort the way normal human beings do. He was no longer human.

The couch with its plush carpet and open fire seemed like a farce to him, mocking him. He crushed the glass table with one quick stroke of his hand, the broken pieces cutting through his leather glove. His anger was not spent.

Darth Vader tried to take a deep breath, using the Force to calm himself. Save your anger until you can make use of it. That's the Sith way! he remembered the Emperor's words. This kind of rage was useless if understandable.

He crossed the room to the big double doors that opened to a motion of his hand, a brief nudge with the Force. Now, this was what comfort would mean to him. Here was the place where he could step out of this inscrutable persona displayed to the outer world and become something that was close to being human. Close, but never close enough.

He surveyed the chamber's interiors, the spread-out, advanced medical equipment. A reclining-couch, a stretcher, machines and medical stations, a bacta tank, something that resembled a bed. A droid came silently closer and stopped right before him.

"Welcome, Lord Vader. I'm your chief medical droid and at your service. Is there something you require?"

"No. Nothing at the moment."

…

Darth Vader stepped out onto the balcony and watched the setting sun suffusing the cityscape with an orange glow. He remembered another sunset, not so long ago yet in a completely different world. In a completely different life. It was ironic: this cold, new home compared to her warmth and love.

She did not love you! She betrayed you. Like Obi Wan. Like everyone else. She did not love you!

He sighed profoundly and closed his eyes. He was weary of those different parts inside himself, battling themselves constantly, bickering and shouting, crying and mourning, raging in despair.

Vader brought her face to his mind, expecting to use the upcoming anger at her sight for nurturing the dark side. But there was no anger this time. Only sadness and longing.

I miss you, he told her and saw her image smile, mouthing the silent words I love you.

His hands gripped the railing involuntarily in a desperate attempt to steady himself. Yes, she had loved him … and he had proven himself not worthy of her and her love. He had betrayed her, had choked her … had killed her. He had destroyed everything that was good and worthwhile in his life.

Padmé, I'm sorry! his mind cried out. He drew the Force close around himself, seeking release from his emotions. But it was powerless against his guilty conscience. It whirled around him in a tempest, useless storm.

Darth Vader knew he was beyond redemption for what he had done.

The medical droid stepped up to him and he opened his eyes, turning around.

"It is time for your medication and maintenance, Lord Vader", it announced, almost cheerful as if this was something he should look forward to.

He only nodded silently and followed the droid inside.

This cold place was his new home. This was his new reality. He succumbed to it as he did to the ministrations of machines tending to what was left of him.

He was, after all, no longer human.

…