Hello, hello ! This is my first story in English since I usually write in French. This OS was first written in French but I decided to try translating it. Hope there's not too many mistakes, but feel free to tell me if you see any.
As for the story itself, I felt as if Vader deserved a bit of love after his quite "gloomy life" as we could say. Hope you like it !
Lereniel.
PS : art by Shorelle, on deviantART. This translation is also for her, since it's one of her drawings that inspired me this short story. Take a look at her gallery, she draws amazing Star Wars art :)
With difficulty, Luke was helping his father walk through the endless corridors of the Death Star, laboring to support the armored man's formidable bulk. But as hard as this ordeal might be, that was nothing next to what the former Sith, leaning on the Jedi's flesh shoulder, was feeling at this moment.
He was in pain.
No stronger words could define Anakin's suffering at this point. Yes, Vader was no more. This version of himself had endured a harsh blow when he had learned the existence of his son, Luke, who looked so much like him at the same age. Vader had, little by little, lost his strength, in an almost undetectable way at first, in the months following this tragic but wonderful discovery. When facing the youngster who would only see him as a monster and a murderer at first, he had felt things, emotions that he believed he could no longer feel. Because yes, Luke was his spitting image… But he could only see his mother in him. She was everywhere : in his small size, in his will showing on his still slightly childish face, in his high forehead and cheekbones and in the spark of his intense blue eyes.
Luke was Padme as much as he was Anakin. No, he was his mother even more.
Because it was Luke, and Luke only, who had been able to see the wound weakening Vader.
Vader, who was dying a bit more every day, gradually letting, but oh, so slowly, Anakin Skywalker wake up from a long nightmarish night that had lasted twenty three years. The dark lord's wound had become infected, had worsen without any possible remedy to save him and give him back his old power. Little by little, Vader had given way to the weary, lonely Jedi that Anakin had become.
So lonely… So lonely because she was gone. Because she was no longer there to tell him how much she loved him, how she would have done everything in order for the three of them to be happy.
No, the four of them.
Finding the information in his son's mind regarding the fact that Luke wasn't the only one to have been born on the terrible day of Padme's death had shaken him to the core. More so to learn that it was a girl. Just like Padme had been sure that the child would be a boy, he have been sure they would have a daughter. It looks like both of them had been right…
How his angel, his sun in his life, would have been proud of their son, of their children ! She had been right from the beginning… And he hadn't listened.
Worse, he had killed her.
Oh, my Padme… Forgive me, I have been a fool…
He would gladly have wept if not for this terrible mask that had been torturing him for more than twenty years preventing him to do so. His world was drowned in a freezing scarlet ocean, made of steel, of metal and death, when he had tasted the bliss of love. His whole vision was analyzed, evaluated, encrypted, but that was not seeing… He had been blind, so terribly blind.
The wound had killed Vader, but another one, really old or very recent, he could not say, had opened in Anakin Skywalker's soul while his son was half dragging him, half helping him move forward in those unending corridors.
He was dying.
But that was fine. It was even a good thing. What role would he have in his children's life, he who was nothing more than the remnant of an era of tyranny, a wreck of a bygone time who appeared to come from a whole other life ? The Empire was crumbling, taking Vader with it in its inexorable collapse. But this was also taking the Jedi Anakin Skywalker's life, like the flame of a candle snuffed out with a pinch of the finger tips.
If his death could alleviate a bit his son and daughter from the burden of his mistakes and horrible deeds, there was no need to be afraid.
By accepting death, by accepting the will of the Force, he would finally be the father he should have been since the day Luke and Leia had opened their eyes for the first time.
By accepting death, he would finally do something good.
His breathing apparatus was almost completely unusable, producing hissing sounds leaving no place to imagination regarding the damages caused by the Emperor's wrath, but that was unimportant, now.
He only wanted peace.
Forgiveness.
His legs finally gave up and he almost took Luke with him as he fell. Exhausted, the youngster could not help him back up again and had to grab him by the wrists (or what was left of the right one) and drag him on the ground with his last strength. They didn't go very far, though. They were already in one of the hangars. The space station was trembling under the repeated bombarding of the Alliance's ships as well as from the explosions due to the Executor's crash on the Death Star. Panic had seized the soldiers and officers. No one knew anymore who to get their orders from and some of them did not hesitate to flee in order to save their skin against what now appeared to be unavoidable.
Out of breath, Luke had to stop at the foot of an imperial shuttle's boarding ramp, his limbs still trembling from the lightning he received from the Emperor. As for Anakin, he now had to fight for every breath he could muster. Only with the help of his son was he able to straighten up in order for him to watch this juvenile face deprived, because of his ocular protections, of the colors of life. Then, he had enough.
Yes, his life had only been a long succession of pains and sorrows, with tits and bits of scattered love and joy. But he wanted to see, just one last time, before he was gone.
He wanted to be sure Luke looked even more like Padme with his own eyes.
"Luke… Help me… Take… this mask off…"
His son's eyes briefly widened before he frowned. "But you'll die".
Perceptive child. The pain he could feel in the young Jedi's voice touched his heart. "Nothing… can't stop that now… Just once… Let me look at you… with my own eyes…"
And not with those of the monster you have learned to hate, he almost added. But he held his tongue. Nothing had to come in between this first and final moment they had as a true father and son. He saw Luke nip his lip, but then he gently took off the helmet covering the higher part of his head. Anakin then felt him smoothly fumble with his fingertips on the limit of his mask and carefully pull in order to avoid his father any pain and, it seemed, to prepare himself for whatever his imagination could have led him to believe had been hiding under there for twenty three years.
And for the first time in years, he felt the air – the actual real air, not the one coming from a hyperbaric chamber – caress his white scarred face that had been missing the sun for over two decades. The air flew into his agonizing lungs and seemed, just for a second, to give him a new breath of life. But then he felt his body burn, his battered lungs unable to give him enough oxygen to allow him to live much longer. He ignored the pain, though, which, with time, had become one of his specialties, and gave his son a small smile. Luke was looking at him, scrutinizing this unknown and disfigured face, but a face he had longed for nonetheless. Anakin was happy not to see any pity in the blue eyes so much like his own. Force, how the colors of the world made him look like Padme ! Anakin felt as though he was seeing his child on the day of his birth, on the day he should have been here to welcome him into this galaxy. He wanted to cry. Words were jostling in his mind. He longed to tell him how sorry he was, how handsome was Luke, how much he loved them, his sister and him, despite the little time they had spent together, how much he had loved their mother…
But he couldn't.
Time was running out.
He went for the simplest thing. "Now… go, my son…", he breathed with a barely audible voice. "Leave me…"
"No", was the reply. "You're coming with me. I'm not leaving you here, I've got to save you !"
The pain and despair in his voice and in his eyes touched the dying man in a place in his heart and soul he had believed destroyed by Padme's death. He would have loved to stay by his children's side and find a way to redeem himself for his mistakes, but his time was up. "You already have… Luke" he managed to say, "You were right… You were right about me…"
His lungs would soon die out and his weary heart was already slowing down. His vision was starting to blur, but he managed to whisper in a final breath "Tell you sister… You were right…"
His last gesture was to smile, before he felt himself being seized by darkness. He united with the Void and there was nothing more.
OOO
Light…
He could feel light on his eyelids.
It was caressing his skin and even warming it up, just like in his oldest memories of the twin suns of Tatooine, when he used to play in the hot sand near his house as a child. It was nice, warm without it being hot, bright without blindness…
Like an embrace.
Anakin opened his eyes.
That place was completely unknown to him, and seemed to go on forever. As for the light, it appeared to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was more than a curious feeling. In fact, it could be said that Anakin himself was also creating this light.
Like an inner light…
But that was impossible, he bitterly mused. How could he still have an inner light, he who had been devoured by the Dark Side ? And anyway, what was this place ? Wasn't he dead ? Should he not be one with the Force or be wandering the Void where all the souls of the Sith lords taken by death ended up ?
He didn't feel ill. In fact, for the first time in a long time, he was completely free of pain, in his body and in his soul. Lowering his eyes, he was startled to see he was not wearing his sinister black armor anymore, but his Jedi robes, the ones he wore, it seemed, in a whole other life. Likewise, he started to shake when his eyes fell on his hands.
His two hands made of flesh.
Alive.
Human.
Not daring to believe it, he touched his face with those renewed hands and felt cheekbones, eyebrows, cheeks, chin… His skin was intact, spared by the voracious fire of Mustafar's lava. That skin who once again was adorned with the colors of life and sun. He could feel his hair, dark blond curls just like Luke's, touch his shoulders like it did before.
His heart started to race. He was dead, he was sure of it… But this place wasn't the Void.
It was the Force itself.
The moment he understood this, he started to hear whispers and words, echoes of laughter and of countless conversations in an infinity of languages, that seemed to lull and prompt him. It was like those voices were welcoming him. He felt surrounded by souls and spirits, spiritual and immaterial bodies, but not once was he addressed with animosity, fear or hate…
Confused, Anakin made a few unsure steps forward. It was unbelievable. He had the feeling he was walking and flying at the same time, that he could touch the sky while keeping his foot on the ground… Such a flow of strange sensations that was making his heart beat even faster while bathing in this light, ageless and new, ephemeral and eternal at the same time.
He then thought of his son. Of Luke.
His throat tightened and his eyes stung. He had found his way again. He had found it thanks to his boy. What wouldn't he have given to tell him how much he was grateful, how much he loved him !
Thanks to his son, he could finally be at peace now… The only thing missing was…
"Ani".
He froze, like he had been turned into a statue. Then he started to shake.
No, he couldn't dare to hope… He had done too much evil to hope for such a miracle.
Yet, as though guided by a will that wasn't his own, Anakin turned around, too slowly and too quickly for his taste.
And he thought he might die and be reborn a second time.
Her smile hadn't changed, as luminous and bright as when they used to secretly retreat together to Varykino on Naboo, years ago. Her warm brown eyes were sparkling under her soft and unending dark curls freely flowing on her slender shoulders. Even more beautiful than in his loved and hated memories of her, more beautiful than all the suns of the universe, more beautiful than life itself.
Padme.
Anakin simply let go of the sob blocking his throat and his tears, finally free, trickled down his renewed cheeks to disappear on the invisible ground. He was like a lost child finding his mother again, like a blind man recovering his sight and the light…
Like a lost soul finding its sister again.
Padme's frail arms circled his waist and the young woman let her head rest on his torso, like she used to do before. But he dared not touch her, fearing, perhaps, that she would disappear like a cruel and tempting illusion. The perfume of her hair filled his nose and he shook even more, closing his eyes, still not daring to believe all of this was true.
" You took your time", she whispered softly against him.
He could feel her delicate body moving with her calm breathing, while his own body could only express his dismay, his joy, his fear and his sorrow all at once.
"I beg you…", he finally managed to say, "My Padme…"
She lifted her head to look at him, her soft brown eyes plunging into the infinity filled with tears of regret of his blue orbs. Her small hands came to rest on his shoulders.
"I will do this on my knees if I have to", he continued, almost choking under the weight of his words, "But please, forgive me… That's all I ask for…"
His voice broke on the final word, and Padme's eyes also filled up with tears while a new smile grew on her lips. "Ani… I forgave you an eternity ago. »
Anakin looked at her without understanding at first… But then his heart seemed to stop before beating even harder than before in his chest.
She had forgiven him.
Forgiven.
He raised his hands and cupped the loved face as if it was made out of crystal, his breath trembling between his lips. Her skin was warm, alive under his own… As if nothing had ever happened.
It really was her.
In his arms, once again.
Padme put her own hands over his before huddling once more against him, her own sobs of relief muffled by the tissue of his Jedi robes.
With a final sigh, still crying but unable to believe this miracle, Anakin closed his arms around her and plunged his face in the crook of her neck, amidst the sea of soft dark curls. His tears got lost in it, little sparkling diamonds containing this time his happiness to be finally complete once again.
Finally…
Finally...
Really, really hope you liked it :)
Until then...
Toodles !