This is a gift fic for my friend, Obiwanlivesforever. This fanfic was stuck in production for several years due to my having trouble attempting to conjure an idea. She wanted a fanfic with Luke and Leia talking about their family. I wanted to do a fanfic that paralleled Luke to his mother, Padmé, as a counterpart to Changeling. Finally, I managed to weld both concepts together. Sorry it took so long, friend!
This is a bit AU, as while it does have ties to Legends (especially with Mara Jade having a cameo appearance), Anakin never told Luke Padmé's name in Legends canon. Anakin's force ghost appears in this in how Sebastian Shaw, rather than Hayden Christensen, portrayed him. I don't adhere to Padmé dying of a broken heart - it cheapens her character. In my opinion, she died from being force choked.
Luke kept his eyes on Leia as she sat and laughed with Han by the fire. The party was winding down, and he was beginning to feel tired. He knew that the death of the Emperor was far from the end of the Empire, but at least, for the moment, he could have this small victory. Regardless, sleep wasn't welcome – it would only bring him closer to the struggle of the next day.
He felt a presence beside him and glanced up from where he stood a distance from the reach of the flames. "Father?"
Anakin stood beside him, wearing the robes of a Jedi. He looked aged, but much less sickly than he had in the armor. Even so, it was hard for Luke to get used to the sight of him alone. "It is late into the night, son," he commented.
Luke smiled. "I appreciate your concern, then." He knew that it was for more than a simple wishing of a good night that Anakin had reappeared to him for, however he allowed him to speak.
"You've forgiven me," Anakin commented, skipping any preamble, "though the galaxy has not. I would not expect it to ever do so with the wounds I have carved."
"The galaxy hasn't forgiven Darth Vader," Luke pointed out, "but Anakin Skywalker was a different man."
"Not everyone will make the same distinction as you have, my child. That was one of the ideals that Yoda and I, even on this plane, perhaps will never agree on," he replied, wandering a few steps away and alighting on a nearby tree root, "'There is no emotion, there is peace,' as our code decreed. Living beings cannot lay aside emotion, not when they suffer such deep scars."
Luke thought of Ben telling him that only Sith dealt in absolutes and wondered if perhaps he had willingly overlooked this behavior among the Jedi, as well. "Will you answer questions?" Luke asked.
"If they're not overly invasive," Anakin replied, though before Luke could say anything, he asked, "I assume you want to know why I fell?"
Luke nodded.
"I did everything for your mother," Anakin explained, "I have stood and will continue to stand by that point."
"Is this what she would have wanted?" Luke asked.
Anakin's gaze hardened. "I have had many recriminations about that, over the years. Kindly do not pursue me about this in death, son."
Luke, for a moment, thought that it was utterly ridiculous. It was as if he was back on Tatooine and being cuffed around the ear by Uncle Owen for being a naughty child. "I was merely asking a question, but if you don't want to answer it, I won't force you," he replied evenly.
Anakin, however, relaxed, and chuckled. "You're rather like your mother."
"I have no memories of her," Luke said.
"You wouldn't," he wrung his hands, "She was heavily pregnant when she passed away. I had thought you and your sister lost."
Luke glanced down at Anakin's hands and knew that he wasn't telling him everything. However, he was against pushing him, as Anakin could easily quit the conversation. Nevertheless, he was upset at his father hiding things from him. "Leia remembered her," he responded.
Anakin's hands dropped. "That is impossible. She must have been speaking of Breha Organa."
"She's force sensitive," Luke countered, his gaze icy at Anakin blatantly lying to him.
"What will satisfy you?" Anakin asked, "Even if I name your mother, you have no memory of her, and Leia has mere whispers."
"Yet you claimed both of us as your children," Luke responded, mentally reminding himself not to lose his patience with him.
"I had no living family," Anakin replied.
"Neither did we," Luke pointed out.
Anakin stared contemplatively at Luke, the silence between them. Seconds stretched to minutes, and Luke wondered if his father was going to refuse his request. However, he relented, "Padmé Naberrie."
Luke bowed his head. "Thank you."
"But I will warn you not to stray into the past," Anakin said, lifting a finger, "I did so with my own mother, and that was a factor that led to my fall."
"My grandmother?" Luke asked, surprised.
"I would rather not discuss her further."
Luke felt a twinge of annoyance. He wanted to know more about her, as well, and it seemed greedy of Anakin to not give him more than a crumb of information. However, what stayed his anger was the fact that it seemed to hurt Anakin to talk about her, and he let it go. Instead, he opted to change the subject. "Would you want Leia to see you, as you are?"
Anakin hesitated, his eyes resting on Leia as she sat by the fire. His hands twitched at his sides, and he licked at his lips a few times. Luke thought he saw tears brimming in his eyes, but he wasn't sure due to the lack of proper lighting. Finally, he replied, "No."
Luke didn't contradict him this time, and Anakin raised his head to look at him. "Don't meddle in this. Give me at least that small peace."
Before Luke could reply, Anakin stood and walked away, his transparent form vanishing into the darkness.
"Luke!" Leia called from behind him, "Come on, we're going to put out the fire for the night!"
He nodded, and jogged over to join his friends, leaving his encounter with his father behind.
XXXXXX
Months later, on board the Millennium Falcon, Leia beckoned Luke to her. At her excited expression, he hurried over, his robe whispering on the floor.
"This is our mother," Leia said as she brought up an image on a datapad.
Luke's eyes widened, and the first words out of his mouth were, "She looks just like you!" The dark-haired woman stared out at him with a wistful, intelligent look in her eyes, her hair arranged artfully around her. Looking back at her, he did feel a phantom echo of familiarity. It wasn't enough for him to place, exactly, but it remained. He hungrily scanned over the file for information on Padmé Naberrie's life and achievements.
"A queen first, and a senator second," he whispered in surprise as he glanced up at Leia, "It seems like it runs in the family."
Leia frowned, tapping her fingers on the surface of the table she sat on, clad in white combat fatigues with her blaster holstered at her side, her legs crossed at the ankles. "And yet, her own husband ruined everything she had worked for. More importantly," her voice lowered as she scowled, "according to her autopsy, she was strangled and left for dead on Mustafar by Darth Vader."
Luke's heart sank. He knew that the strangling had to have been from the force choke. Anakin's words to him about doing everything for Padmé suddenly felt hollow, and he wondered if his father had lied to him.
Leia's expression became grave. "Vader killed her, and he nearly killed both of us, too. She lived just long enough to give birth and name us." She gave a heavy sigh, "Luke, I saw her face, in my visions. I felt her warmth, and love, especially when she was carrying us," she shook her head, "and that's all I'll ever know."
"But he had a similar love," Luke posited, "He saved me from Palpatine. Had he been truly lost, he wouldn't have considered such a thing."
Leia raised an eyebrow. "That's where you and I are different. I wouldn't have gone that far and given Darth Vader that chance to redeem himself. It cost you your hand, and very nearly your life. I'll come to terms with him being my father on my own time, but that's where it ends. I know that upsets you, but we're different people. You lived most of your life as a moisture farmer. I saw the Empire destroy my home planet."
Luke felt disappointment at that but was quick to collect himself. However, he wasn't fast enough for Leia not to notice the slight slumping of his shoulders, and the shadow passing over his eyes. Her response was gentle but firm. "You can't expect me to forgive him."
He chose against saying that he had had to lay aside his own anger and hatred toward Vader for multiple things. There was Ben's death, there was Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru's death, there was Biggs's death, and there was his friends' torture. And even then, he had cut off his Vader's hand out of blind rage when he threatened to twist Leia to the Dark Side.
And part of it, he knew, was out of genuine fear that Leia would fall herself, if pursued by Darth Vader. Though that was something that he would rather keep to himself. He indicated Padme's picture one more time. "Thank you for finding this."
Leia smiled. "She's our mother – of course I'd show you her face. You can have this copy. I have my own."
"Thank you," he cradled the pad gently to himself, and felt a bit childish for how he was acting. Leia, however, didn't chastise him as she stood from the table. He held in his hands the remaining fragment of a family that he never knew, and it was something that he could only keep to his chest.
"Oh, and don't do anything stupid," Leia said, hitting him softly on the shoulder, "You're the only family I have left, after all."
Luke smiled at that. "Of course."
XXXXXX
Years later, Luke lay awake in bed.
He had deleted Padmé's image after two years to prevent it from being used against him. Anakin didn't appear to him again since that night by the fire, and he occasionally wondered what his father thought of him.
As time passed, Luke understood Anakin's cynicism after seeing entire societies suffering under the oppression of the Galactic Empire, and what turmoil it had foisted upon them, economically, sociologically, and psychologically. The galaxy, for now, and for the foreseeable future, was not going to forgive Anakin Skywalker for his acting as the sword arm of the Empire. Luke did not allow his outrage at the injustices the Empire had wrought to consume him, although he had come close on a few occasions.
And yet, as he held his sleeping bedfellow to himself, he wondered if he would falter like Anakin. Mara Jade had tried to kill him on several occasions in the past, but more so now it scared him that she held his heart.
A grunt sounded, and the long red hair that was draped before his face rose and turned over, revealing green eyes. "You all right, farmboy?" Mara asked with a yawn.
"Would you believe me if I said I overheated?"
Mara smirked. "Not for a moment." She sobered, and asked, "What's bothering you?"
"I wonder if I'm running the risk of becoming more like my father," he admitted quietly.
"Because of this?" She held up her hand, which bore a wedding ring, "You're a bit late to have second thoughts now, Luke."
"What I mean is, he told me, after he died, that he did everything for my mother. I wonder how easily I could use the same justification to fall."
"If it comes to that," Mara interrupted, "I'll either drag you back, or cut off your head. I'm not going to allow you to destroy what you built, and I fought to keep."
"At least you're honest," Luke commented with a nervous chuckle.
"Go back to sleep," Mara muttered, putting her hand on his shoulder, "We've enough to worry about as it is."
Luke squeezed Mara's hand, and replied as she lowered it, "You're right." Closing his eyes, and leaning against her warm body, he slowly drifted off to sleep.