A/N: hi, hello, sorry for disappearing again. i was so busy with work last week and then my dog fell ill and i had to take him to the vet on a hurry and i fell behind on my writing and long story short i was losing my goddamn mind. but worry not, my mind is back on its rightful place and i'm here to provide.

song for the chapter - son by sleeping at last


When Luke Skywalker invited Padmé to spend a day with him outside of the rebel base, away from military and political duties, Padmé was the happiest to agree to his son and mother day.

When Padmé sat next to him on his landspeeder and asked where they were going, Luke stared blankly ahead of him for several minutes before confessing that he had never been to anywhere in Coruscant — aside from his shortly lived Jedi Temple fiasco — a fact that had only occurred to him when he sat behind the wheel. Both amused and disbelieved, Padmé instructed him to scoop over as she would do the piloting — and just like that, their son and mother day became a mother and son day.

Which, of course, Luke didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, he was eager to learn about all the places she would take him to.

It did come to him as a surprise, though — and maybe as a little bit of disappoint — that their first stop had been in a clothes shop located in the fancy high levels surrounding the Senate district. Opposing his high expectations of a fun, exciting day — their first activity seemed to be acutely boring.

"I'm sorry, Luke," Padmé tried to hold back her sneer upon his disappointed face. "I know you're trying to find yourself as a Jedi in a world in which the Jedi are no more, but… I'll have you know that even though the Jedi code defined a humble way of life, they still took much pride in their dressing code."

She waited expectantly until he understood what she was trying to say. And when he did, his jaw dropped and he looked down on himself, perplexed.

"You're saying that my clothes are ugly?!" he squealed, bewildered.

Her eyebrows shot up, her face deadpan. "Terribly so."

Luke crossed his arms over his chest in protest. "That's not true. I just lead a very simple way of life."

"Emphasis on very," Padmé denounced. "Luke, trust me. Back in the Republic, the Jedi were very stylish. You can't expect other people to trust you and accept you as this powerful being who is supposed to protect them and bring them safety when you walk around looking like… that."

All things considered, Luke doubted he had ever been so personally offended in his life. "There's nothing wrong with my clothes! People trust me because I radiate goodness and fairness. They don't need me to look like royalty to trust me."

Padmé simply shook her head. "I'm surprised Leia has never tried to knock some sense into you. That's a girl who knows how to dress."

Luke huffed at the comparison. "I'll have you know that Leia spent the majority of the last few years wearing garb and nobody looked down on her because of it."

She looked at him with funny eyes. "There's quite a difference between a girl dressing down and a boy dressing up, Luke," she explained, and Luke returned her the same funny eyes. "Alderaan, much like Naboo, is a matriarchal world; however, that can't be said for the majority of planets throughout the galaxy. When you are a strong woman in a position of power, in a world built for men — well, men tend to belittle you because of your gender, they will sexualize you and they will objectify you and they will call you the worst sexist names just because you're a woman, and you're in a position of power, when they're not. So, the only way to have them look at you, rather than at your body, is by dressing down and trying to erase every aspect of your femininity so you'll be like them. Now, Alderaan is a matriarchal world, and I can't tell whether Leia had to learn it the easy way or the hard way — but she did, and she played the part. On the other hand, when you are a man in a position of power, in a world that already favors your mere existence even if you don't have the necessary skills to be in said position of power — other people, other men and even other women will look up to you and will respect you. Dressing up, it comes with the job. The way you dress determines how approachable you are; people who don't know you will turn you the other way if you look like you've been sleeping on the streets for the past days, just like people who don't know you will welcome you if you look successful and powerful enough. Maybe this is grounded on pure elitism, just like Leia having to dress down is founded on sexism alone. Yet, this is the world we live in. Unfortunately, Luke, the rest of the galaxy is not Force sensitive so they would assess you from your innate goodness, and fairness. But they will judge you accordingly to how you present yourself. Clothing serves as a substitute for character to those that don't know you well enough to judge you by anything else."

Luke was now looking down in embarrassment. "I… I had never thought about that," he stumbled on his words, "I mean, about you… About Leia… About women—"

Padmé smiled warmly at him. "It's okay. There's no shame in not knowing things," she assured, "If anything, the fact that you never once questioned your sister's choice of outfits probably means that you've never thought any less of her just because she's a girl. That's a good character trait."

Luke chuckled gently. "Leia made sure we knew who the boss was the moment Han and I met her. The credit for that is all on her."

Padmé joined him in his giggle. Yes, that sounded like Leia, but if Padmé allowed herself to be bold — it also sounded like her.

"My point still stands," she said, and then shifted the subject back to the matter in hands, "So, in the name of every powerful woman out there, will you please let me dress you up?"

Unable to refrain the coy smile shaping his lips, Luke agreed. Perhaps he was enjoying it more than he believed.


Padmé took the task of building Luke's new wardrobe very seriously. She meticulously went through the entire shop looking at every rail of clothing, Luke following close behind her like a lost puppy. From time to time, she would ask him if he liked a piece of clothing or not, and he would even randomly make comments about his fashion preferences as they passed through every aisle — however, Padmé would still punctiliously select the comments she didn't want to hear — which, all things considered, was the majority of them.

Padmé had once been a Queen of Naboo and a Senator of the Republic — if there was anything she could do was to dress well. She had once been very proud of her fashion sense, and she had pretty much had enough with letting Luke walk around in the rags he called his clothes.

Now, she was sitting outside the dressing room as Luke tried on every outfit she had picked for him. The shop was nearly empty, and there wasn't anybody else crowding the place, daring to overhear their conversation — the conversation between the hero of the galaxy and his mother, about matters that belonged to them only.

Separated by only a thick curtain, Padmé waited until the third or fourth outfit change before she allowed their chitchat to take a darker turn.

"Luke, I…" she started, clasping her hands together from the public side of the curtain. "I'd actually like to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" he yelled back from inside the tiny fitting room. "What is it, mother?"

"Well…" she tried to think of the best way to approach the matter, except — it didn't exist. She didn't even know if she was entitled to be having this conversation, but she needed to urgently sort her thoughts out. "Leia told me something."

"Hm? What did she tell you?"

"She told me…" Padmé breathed out heavily, "About what happened on Tatooine."

And the curtain assuring him of his privacy was yanked open, revealing him wearing mismatching trousers and shirt. His face was serious, and his expression was blank.

"Oh."

"Yeah," she conceded once she realized that was all Luke had to say. "Sith's sake, Luke, how could such a terrible thing like this have happened—"

"It happened," he said simply. Not trying to undermine Leia's experiences, but treading carefully through unknown territory. "Padmé. What exactly did Leia tell you?"

"Ern, nothing much," she lamented, "Just that it happened, and that she killed her captor."

Luke nodded, a heavy halo surrounding him. "Did you come here expecting I would share you the details? Because I won't."

"No, of course not," she said in her sweet voice. "I just wish — I wish someone would have told me earlier."

He offered her a look, and she sighed.

"Try on the maroon cardigan."

Conceding to it, Luke shut himself behind the drapes once more. However, that didn't stop him from engaging in their conversation.

"I don't think Leia would have taken it well if she came to learn that any of us disclosed about her turmoils to you without her consent."

Padmé grimaced at his last word; yes, of course, that wasn't what she had meant at all.

"I just mean," she tried again, "I would have done things a lot differently if — I had known. I would have been — kinder, more patient. I, I don't know. I would have tried to be better."

"You were good enough," Luke guaranteed, stepping out of the dressing room with the maroon cardigan looking quite smug, even if his clothes were the last thing concerning him. "You were kind, and you were patient. You've done your best — Leia just had her own troubles clashing alongside your arrival."

Padmé nodded. "That looks good on you."

"Hm," Luke agreed, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Set it apart, we're taking it," Padmé decided, and it clearly wasn't up for debate. "Try on the black shirt, now."

Luke followed back inside without protest, leaving Padmé to sulk behind.

"I would have tried to understand her side more," Padmé commented, following the same thinking trail of before. "I don't know, Luke. I know there's virtually nothing that I could have done, but still. I would have… done differently, that much I'm certain of."

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe that was exactly why Leia didn't tell you anything before?" Luke prompted, his voice slightly oscillating as he got out from his clothes into other ones. "She doesn't want to be treated differently. She's already got enough of that from strangers, because of her status, because of Alderaan. She doesn't need that from us too, her close family."

Padmé was forced to concede with a bow; she was so distracted she didn't notice Luke stepping out again.

He continued, "With everything that happened, on top of things — Leia just wants to be treated normally, you know? Like — like a human. We owe her that much."

For several seconds, Padmé was looking at him, but she wasn't seeing him. "I guess," and she snapped back to herself, "Oh. Don't you look handsome."

Luke blushed significantly.

"Set it aside," she instructed. "Oh, maybe try the white tunic alongside the black cape. I think you'll look stylish on it."

He offered her a look. "Haven't we set aside enough clothes already?" he pointed to behind himself, "Look at the pile!"

Padmé pouted. "Considering that all your old clothes are going straight to the incinerator," she imposed, "No, I don't think we have."

Luke rolled his eyes, but, really, did he have any other choice?

He followed back inside without a word. Padmé leaned her back against the wall.

"I just can't stop thinking about it," she lamented, "And that's not fair to Leia, because she's so much more than that. Yet, every time I see Leia, I have to choke inside this sudden urge to cry, because — she didn't deserve that, Luke. Nobody deserves to be enslaved, and she… She much less than other people."

"I understand the sentiment very well," Luke said, his voice smaller and full of burden. This time, when he came out, he didn't resemble as vibrant as before.

Still, despite everything, Padmé smiled at him warmly.

"You look very good in that," she said, beaming proudly, "A true Jedi."

Luke chuckled soundlessly and lifelessly as he sat in the opposite cushion bench from her.

"What bothered me the most about — all that," Luke said uncomfortably, looking down on his feet; he didn't think he was necessarily breaking his sister's trust when he was simply retelling his sentiments about a situation where he had to be the strong one, and just him. "Was how… silent she was."

Luke bit down on his lips anxiously; likewise, silence prevailed for a while.

"You've known Leia for a little time, now," Luke inferred, "When have you ever seen Leia to be quiet, regarding anything?"

Padmé swallowed hard, the answer coming to her too quickly. For as long as she had known the princess, Leia had always been adamant to speak her mind, and that was a trait that Padmé deeply admired from her.

"They wanted to steal her voice," he concluded sadly, "And they succeeded. Even if just for a brief time — they succeeded."

Luke sadly reminisced the moment he arrived at Jabba's palace, and how they had escaped, and how long the journey back to the Millennium Falcon in that tiny, cramped landspeeder had been. A journey in which Leia stared out at the vastness of sand dunes under the burning twin suns of Tatooine, never daring to look at either of them, not even at Han, who she hadn't seen for months, and they had had to do their best to respect her space. Luke recalled with a heavy heart the warm embrace that she had allowed him to give her just before they parted ways, while offering her words of kindness throughout their connection — back when he didn't even know she could hear him, and her mind's silence only corroborated it.

He hugged her tight, and she didn't hug back. She just stood there, not daring to say a single word.

Luke only came to hear her voice again a few days later, after he had returned from Dagobah with the knowledge that she was his sister — and everything became so much harder — when she had locked the memories so deep inside of her it seemed it hadn't happened at all.

"That's what gets me the most," he repeated, running the palm of his hands along his thighs as he desperately sought to replace bad memories with good ones.

He couldn't tell that, across from him, Padmé was likewise trying to erase all the mental images she had of that terrible event.

"I'm from Tatooine," Luke said when eye contact was nearly impossible to be made. "I know of the terrible things that people are capable of there, I have seen it with my own eyes growing up," he paused briefly, searching for his words, "It's different when they happen to someone you love, though, and you are forced to live with the impotence of watching them go through something horrible why there's virtually nothing you can to to save them from their misery."

Padmé nodded discreetly, sharing the sentiment all too well.

"When I came to find her — like that," he started again, his elbows on his knees, his eyes looking everywhere and nowhere at all. "Well, I came to negotiate for her freedom, hers and Han and Chewie's freedom, and I saw her there," he exhaled tiredly, "I had to — block her out of my sight, out of my mind, because if I allowed myself to think about her, to acknowledge those big eyes full of sorrow begging me for emancipation, I would have broken down right there, and I wouldn't be able to help her. I don't know if what I did was right, mother, I don't know if having ignored her at that moment made things worse for her, when she was already suffering under their hands enough to have me turn my back on her — even though I wasn't, I was just trying the best I could."

Padmé's eyes became filled to the brim as she realized that whatever had happened on Tatooine hurt Luke just as it hurt Leia. Their sufferings weren't on the same scale, but the pain was still there.

"You did what you could," she said with a small, barely heardable voice. "She doesn't fault you for that."

She had no grounds to be speaking over the princess, of course; however, she knew as much. If there was something that she could speak with conviction, it was that the twins' bond wasn't easily breakable. She doubted that it was breakable at all.

Luke merely shrugged; what was done was done.

"In the end, she saved herself," he chuckled lightly; that was his sister — the girl that always saved herself, because everybody else was too much a fool to do any rescuing right. "She always does."

Padmé smiled delicately at that.

"Are you okay?"

Luke appreciated her concern, but believed it to be misplaced with the wrong child. So, he simply nodded, and forced himself back up.

"Let me guess," he prompted, his voice dry. "Set it aside."

Padmé snorted significantly. "Of course."

His hand was clenching to the drapes, ready to shut it again, when he dared to look over his shoulder at his mother. "Do we have to keep going? I don't feel like trying on new clothes anymore."

His request was so heartfelt that Padmé started to feel bad.

"Yes, no, of course we can stop," she said, and he smiled at her in gratitude. "Wait—Can you just try on the dark blue tonic? The last one, I promise."

Conceding, he bowed with his head. This time, there wasn't any chit chat as he changed into said piece of clothing.

But when he stepped back out — Padmé was speechless. Her lips slightly fell apart and her eyes became wide as she stared at him, her son, in that dark blue tunic that fell to his knees with refined shoulder blades and enriched burgundy details; she felt her breath once more being stolen from her.

Luke eyed her comically for several moments, waiting for a comment, for anything, and it never came. Self-consciously, he looked down on himself.

"You don't like it?" he asked in an edgy voice. "I thought it looked nice…"

Yet, it took her long to provide a verbal response.

"You — You look amazing, Luke," she had to force the words out. "It's just — You're looking so much like your father."

Luke's cheeks burned like fire, and he forced himself to look at the mirror and study his image there. He knew that physically resembled Anakin, with his piercing blue eyes and his golden hair and his face shape, but Padmé had never been so overwhelmed by it — not until now.

"I'm sorry, I—" she forced herself to take a deep breath, "It just came to me. Your father had a tunic really similar to that one, he would wear it all the time. I suppose my subconscious chose it for you when I had no recollection of it, and something inside me just knew you had to try it before we went. Now, looking at you… You look just like your father, Luke."

Luke met the reflection of her eyes in the mirror, and hesitantly asked. "In… In a good way?"

Padmé tilted her head slightly, "Of course, Luke. You only ever bring out the good from him."

Luke ran his tongue against his lips; there was a reassurement he didn't know he needed to hear. "I mean… It doesn't make you sad?"

"You'll never make me sad, Luke," she said. "I guess — I became a little too overwhelmed, is all. Because even amidst all the bad… There were still many good moments that I had with Anakin. And seeing you here, looking so much like your father, following your father's path in the light — it makes me so happy."

At last, Luke allowed himself to smile again.


To say Luke had gotten a life makeover was an understatement; the four bags filled with brand clothes didn't do Padmé's efforts justice. Although her savings from Raada weren't that rich, her payment as a hard working intelligence officer of the rebellion was barely a joke, and she had yet to find the courage to trace back the Amidala name and all the wealth that came with it, she had insisted on paying for his new wardrobe on her own, which made Luke become so red that he had yet to fully regain his normal color. He was adorable, and Padmé was happy to do so; even if she didn't have to, she overly enjoyed spoiling him to death.

Clumsily, Luke Skywalker struggled to carry all four bags in two hands only, and being the perfect gentleman that he was, he declined every offer of Padmé's to help him out, to the point she merely gave up asking. Now, mother and son were walking aimless around the busy streets of Coruscant, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Until Padmé heard her own stomach growling, and she broke whatever discussion they were engaged in to ask, "What do you say about a late lunch? I'm starving."

His eyes lit up with the prospect, and then his face expression changed into something new entirely — and considering just how many times she had seen that same look on Anakin's face, Padmé knew she was about to regret having suggested it at all.

"Actually — Instead of a proper lunch," he started to speak his mind carefully, but the excitement behind his voice betrayed him. "I was thinking.. We could go a little unorthodoxly…"

Padmé stopped walking and stood face to face with him, offering her suspicious eyes. "And you're suggesting…?"

"Well…" his attempts in hiding the smirk from his lips were only making his face three times more ludicrous. "Let's have ice cream for lunch!"

And his proposal was so absurd that Padmé couldn't even convey a proper reaction for it. She just stood there, waiting for the words in her ears to make some sense, because she couldn't believe what she was hearing—

"What are you, five?!"

And she said it so alike what Leia would say in a situation like that that, instead of becoming embarrassed by the reprimand, Luke only bursted deeper into laughter and joy.

"I mean it!" he shouted in excitement, "Let's have ice cream for lunch."

His enthusiasm added to his arms juggling with the bags hung there only made the entire scene more preposterous.

"Luke," Padmé spoke very seriously, actually picturing a five-year-old child in front of her as she talked. "There's a — a proper order for this. First, you have a meal, then you can move on to the dessert—"

"Nope," he shook his head, barely bothering himself to hear her out. "I want to stuff myself with ice cream!"

"Luke," she held her tone and her calm, and she never expected she would be having such a conversation with her grown up son — ! "If you stuff yourself with ice cream without having lunch first, you're going to have a headache. You're going to have a stomachache!"

"Mother, I don't think you understand the gravity of my situation," Luke mimicked her tone and expression, so he would be taken seriously.

Crossing her arms, Padmé made a face. "I definitely don't."

"Well," Luke went as far as raising his arms towards his chest to copy her stance, only then being reminded of the logistically impossibilities of doing so. "You see, mother, I've never tried ice cream before!"

Yet, Padmé's expression didn't as much as flinch. "Lying to me won't—"

"I'm not lying," he interrupted, maybe a little offended that his mother wouldn't trust his word. "I've never had ice cream before."

With her eyes startled, Padmé became just as reactionless as before. "You — what?!"

His expression suddenly became very sad. "I've never had ice cream before," he said for the zillionth time, "I'm from Tatooine. We've got two suns and a very hot desert. It is physically impossible to have ice scream when you live in a desert. It just — melts."

Although Padmé took his story to heart, part of her just wanted to laugh at how painful a childhood without ice cream was to him. "You've been out of Tatooine for what, four years now?"

"Yes, living under precarious conditions alongside the rebellion, mother!" Luke exaggeratedly cried. "From all the places we could have gone to, we ended up in Hoth. Hoth! If you think you know what cold feels like, you're wrong, because you don't know cold until you're in Hoth. And you can't have ice cream in Hoth either! You're already freezing outside, you don't want to freeze inside too."

Padmé discreetly placed her hand over her lips, quietening her sneer. "So you want to try ice cream now."

"Yes! Every flavor there is!" he shouted excitedly. "I might have never had ice cream before, but I've heard all about it, from Leia and from Han. You see, Leia thinks ice cream is lovely, lovely, but she wouldn't make a big deal about it because to her there are better desserts out there. To which Han responded, 'who hurt you?', because to him there is nothing better in this world than some ice cream on a hot summer day. To which Leia responded, 'you need to grow up!', because his taste is just as infantile as his usual behavior. To which Han responded—"

"Luke," Padmé gently called him back to reality. As much as she enjoyed seeing Luke drift away in his ramblings, she was also starving.

"Hm? Oh, sorry," Luke said, "My point being — I want to make an opinion for myself on ice cream."

The whole thing was so absurd that, before she could stop herself, Padmé found herself saying—

"Fine. Whatever. We can have ice cream for lunch."

"Yes!" Luke yelled like a child who had just gotten candy — which was pretty much what was happening here. Then, unexpectedly, he frowned, "You don't happen to know a quality ice cream shop around here, do you?"

Unbelieving, Padmé rolled her eyes.

Lucky for him — she knew just the place.


Out of protest, Padmé was quite determined not to have any ice cream and just grab something else to eat after Luke had his moment of epiphany, but watching him delight himself while her stomach systematically growned inside of her was all it took for her to cave in.

Just in time for his second round, of course.

Now, they sat contentedly at a quiet table in the patio of the ice cream shop, settled in the quietude of the place. Five empty cups stood between them — and just one belonged to Padmé. Luke had made the most out of the situation, trying different flavours from all over the galaxy to understand the enriching cultural aspect of ice cream to different civilizations — Pickled Mango from Ryloth, Ghost Pepper from Corellia, Bourbon and Corn Flake from Naboo, and Sour Cream from Alderaan.

When Padmé pointed out that he was meticulously only trying ice cream flavors to appease those close to him — Naboo for her, Corellia for Han, Alderaan for Leia, and Ryloth for Ameera — he thought it to be an absurd thought.

And then, excitedly, he commented on how he couldn't wait to meet them again and tell them of how he had tried a cultural dish from their home planets — Padmé simply rolled her eyes as he kept babbling about this apparent ice cream galactical phenomenon. He had thought Corellia's choice of adding a spicy flavor to something sweet a little odd at first, but it soon grew on him; Naboo's elegant flavor made him feel like royalty himself; Ryloth's brought a funny texture to his mouth, which he soon came to appreciate; and Alderaan's — well, if he was being honest, Alderaanian typical ice cream was the most boring and dullest thing he had ever tried, and he had grown up on Tatooine; now, he understood why Leia wasn't that inclined towards ice cream, but he'd rather die than to tell to her face that her homeworld made boring ice cream.

Once he had had his childhood dream fulfilled, as well as having the chance to spend one of his most genuine days with his mother, he thought it safe to steer their conversation towards — a darker path.

"Mother, I would like to talk to you about Anakin."

And his request came so unexpectedly that Padmé's easy expression abruptly dropped, and she swallowed hard. Of course, she had been expecting it. Not only had this topic been piling up in all of their heads ever since she came into the picture, but Anakin had also paid the twins an unasked for — and unwelcomed — visit a few days before, and Luke had yet to say anything about it. She assumed he was either gathering his thoughts on the matter or had his needs of knowing and understanding his father fulfilled after Anakin's apparition — or, maybe, both. However, she hadn't realized how unprepared she was for this conversation until now, as she became scared and anxious of the questions he would pose and how should she answer them without breaking his heart.

And to think that she would also have to go through a similar enquiry when Leia was ready to face the questions of her origins—

No, she couldn't think like that. She had a duty to the twins, and she knew the importance of abiding for both the good and the bad that came with being their mother. So, with all the strength in her chest, she clasped her hands together and asked, "Would you like to make questions or would you rather I took the lead?"

Most days, she couldn't wait for the good to finally come, though.

Likewise, Luke shifted uncomfortably on his sit, and for one he couldn't believe he was about to have that conversation so openly and so publicly. Yet, he was thankful for it, because he thought he would suffocate if they were to have such a heavy conversation while trapped in the closed quarters of the rebellion base.

"I… Both?" he prompted reluctantly; this was brand territory for him as well. "I have no idea how to do this."

Padmé chuckled nervously. "Me either."

"Well, I suppose we should start from the beginning," he cleared his throat, his eyes fixated on the empty cups over the table rather than on her. "As I suppose you're aware, Leia and I were — visited by Anakin Skywalker."

Unsure of how to respond, Padmé simply nodded.

"Of course, Anakin is dead, so he came to us in the most unorthodox way," Luke rambled on, even if he knew that Padmé already knew that; perhaps, he was stalling. "Because he is very strong in the Force therefore his spirit broke the barriers of the physical world and joined a greater realm, a realm of light, where only goodness prevails. That's where Leia and I and you will go once our time comes, but because some of us are really connected with the Force, we can still hold tight to our consciousness, even after our death. Does that make sense?"

"No, I don't think it makes much sense," she commented, "But I understand."

"Okay. Good," he said, tapping his fingers against the table in a rhythm only he could hear. "Well, and sometimes the dead can break through the barriers of the living world, and when you're somehow strong with the Force, like Leia and I, you can… connect, communicate with those gone before us who are also bound to the Force. I guess — no one is ever really gone."

"Luke," Padmé gently said his name, hoping it would be enough to bring him back from his ramblings. "I already know all of that."

"R—Right, okay," he pressed his lips tightly together for a moment, gathering up the courage to at last look at her again. "Well. I saw Anakin. For the first time ever since he abdicated the darkness. For the first time, we met and there was only light."

That was good, right? Padmé judged it to be a good thing.

Still, she asked, "How did it go?"

"Horribly," he didn't falter to answer, and her eyes went wide upon the realization that the twins had unknowingly chosen the same word to describe that event. "However… All things considered, I do think it was better for me… than it was for him."

Padmé tilted her head, intrigued. Of course she wouldn't expect the encounter with the children that he had wronged to go smoothly, but at the same time, Anakin had returned to the light after decades lost amidst the darkness; she wouldn't think he was so easily quarreled.

"Not because of Leia and I," Luke clarified, sensing her inner debates. "I would never say that his standing there to us was easy, and Leia was so brutal and fierce with him — and she had every right to be," Luke rambled on before he could stop himself. "However — his experience was infinitely more painful than Leia and I's. All because of… you."

Padmé essentially stopped breathing in front of her son. She dreaded to know what Luke had meant.

Sensing how anxious his mother had become, Luke reached forward and found her hands on his. "Anakin… Anakin didn't know that you were alive, Mother."

She simply stared at him, her eyes wide open, unsure how to proceed. Unsure if she wanted to know Anakin's reaction to the news about her, but certified that she was going to learn about it either way.

"Mother, I…" Luke tried, and words never failed him as much as now. "I don't want to hurt you."

Padmé chuckled gently, holding back his hand. "You can't hurt me, Luke."

Luke swallowed roughly, "No, but… I can deliver the story that will hurt you."

She let out a long breath. "There are few things regarding Anakin that can still affect me."

She was lying, they both knew as much. Yet, they chose to believe it.

"I guess I should start with the good stuff, then?" Luke prompted with a convincing nod, "Although — well, good differs significantly from points of view, but I want to believe that this will be good for you. I want it to be, because after everything, you deserve to have something good from him again."

"Luke," Padmé called for him before he started drifting further away. "Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can take it."

He looked deeply into her eyes and found her strength there.

"Anakin — wanted me to tell you of how much he loves you."

And just like that, it was like Anakin was trying to steal her of her breath again. That had been all she ever wanted, his love, but how could she accept it twenty years too late, after everything that had been said and done?

And a deeper part of her screamed — how could she not? When he had come back for their children, for her?

She sniffed, and one tear ran down her cheek, the single embodiment of all her feelings.

"Oh, Padmé…" Luke said her name, and the amount of burden and emotion in his voice was all it took her to desperately close her eyes to contain herself.

"I'm alright," she said, her voice hoarse and contradicting her words. "It just — it caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting that."

Luke nodded, understanding.

"Or, maybe — I was. I was expecting it, because that's the most Anakin thing to say, but hearing it after everything only makes it… harder to bear. Anakin's love, you know? Because nobody loved like Anakin, and Anakin loved too much. And when you have so much love to offer, yet you are forbidden to love… Well, the galaxy suffers the consequences from it."

Luke sadly conceded; maybe that would be the defining difference between him and his father — that he was allowed the freedom of his heart to love as passionately as he could, while Anakin had been doomed to suppress the depth of his feelings.

Maybe, because of that, he would never fall.

"From the minutes we've talked, I could tell how much love he had for you," Luke said, doing his best to sustain their eye contact. "It's like — Anakin died the moment Padmé did. And Anakin was almost brought back to life when I told him that Padmé lives."

Padmé felt her eyes sting; maybe the galaxy would have been safe if only she had braced herself enough and not hidden away. Maybe if she only hadn't been so heartbroken from all the pain that he willingly brought her—

Or, maybe, Palpatine had already corrupted him all too much for there to have been any hope left.

"When Anakin learned that you were alive, I could feel the burden on him," he carried on, despite knowing how hard it was for Padmé to hear him. She had come to learn that he still loved her, she needed to learn as well that his misdeeds plagued him just as much. "He struggles to forgive Vader for the crimes he committed, and knowing that you're aware of all the misery he brought to the galaxy, to those you love, weighs on him."

She nodded with her head heavy; if she were in Anakin's place, she would never forgive herself either. She did not pity Anakin's resolution; she would have much less respect for the man that had once been her husband had he simply forgiven and forgotten all the bad that Vader did.

Especially — the bad he had inflicted upon his children.

"I wish," she started, sorting through her thoughts meticulously. "I wish I could speak to him."

Luke smiled sadly. "We could try, if you'd like. Leia or I would have to mediate your conversation, because Anakin might be able to see and hear you, but the same can't be said about you."

Padmé didn't even move, her vision lost within the scenery.

"Of course, I'm not sure how you'd feel about either your children meddling with the affairs you have with your dead husband," Luke rambled, and his words sounded weird on his own ears. "But, ern, you let me know."

Still, it took her a while to leave her trance. "Hm? Oh, I — Let me think about it, okay?"

Because, as much as she wanted to speak with Anakin, to try and understand what had been his reasons for everything that he had done, she was also terrified of such an encounter. Much like Leia herself, she presumed.

"Of course, mother," Luke assented, and he would not push her on the matter. "Don't hesitate to come to me, or Leia, if you ever decide to."

Then, he grimaced.

"Well, might be better to leave Leia out of it."

Padmé snorted; that much she agreed with him on.

"You've said you wanted to start with the good stuff," Padmé said, suddenly caught up on what he had said previously. "That means there's bad stuff, too."

Luke chuckled nervously, pulling his hands back to himself.

"When Leia and I were meditating… I had a few visions, regarding… You and Anakin, mostly."

Padmé perked up her brows, a little curiously. When Leia had come to her after their meditation, she had confessed about the visions she had seen, likewise regarding her and Anakin, and she wondered if the twins knew just how in sync they were, even when they had their ethereal connection momentarily severed — or, at least, no one had told her if they had somehow reestablished it again.

Although — as she recalled, Leia's visions had overall helped her to a greater understanding of the goodness once inside of Anakin. Apparently, the same couldn't be said about Luke.

And Padmé herself had too many bad memories of the things that had happened between the two of them.

"The Force never offers you more than you can take, but the things I saw… It came close, mother," Luke confessed, his eyes attracted to his fumbling hands. "The Force showed me Anakin's path to the Dark Side."

Padmé remained quiet and still on her seat, her eyes fixated on the figure of her son, suddenly looking so vulnerable amidst the immensity of the world.

"Mother, if it wouldn't burden you too much," he gently prompted, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of the request he had yet to ask. "I am finally ready to hear about the things that took place twenty years ago. If it isn't too much to ask of you, I would like you to tell me about Anakin's descent to the darkness."

She breathed in a long breath as the memories of such a long time before started to overflow her.

"All right," she hesitantly agreed, and waited until he found it in himself to look at her again. "Luke, I cannot speak for Anakin, or what precisely his motivations had been. I can only speak for myself, and my perspective of the things that led Anakin to his downfall."

Luke nodded. "I understand. But mother — nobody knew Anakin better than you. You were the love of his life."

"Yes, I was," she conceded, "However… Anakin changed, too much, in the last months we had together. I was simply too blind by our love, by our children, to see what he had become."

"Mother, you can't fault yourself for that," Luke said, "You weren't responsible for the things that he chose to do."

"I wasn't responsible, but I was his reason," Padmé admitted, sighing briefly. "I will start from the beginning, though. From the first time I saw Anakin's power threaten him. And, Luke, once again he did it out of love."

His eyes became glossier, and he couldn't talk. Only listen.

"It happened — before we had even confessed our love for one another," she started, "I was working on the Senate when there was an attempt on my life, and your father was the Jedi assigned to protect me. We sought refuge in Naboo, where my family resided, where we thought I would be safe — and we were. I was home, and I was safe, but Anakin… Anakin started to have bad dreams, dreams about his mother dying. The mother that he hadn't seen ever since the Jedi found him and saved him from a life of slavery in Tatooine; the mother that once meant everything to him. He knew it wasn't his mission, but he couldn't leave his mother to die, so he forsook his mission of protecting me, and we went to Tatooine to find his mother."

Luke tried to calm his breath as so much was delivered to him in such a short time. Anakin had a mother that loved him? Anakin was taken from his mother? Anakin was a slave?

"We were too late," Padmé continued, although aware of the son struggling to cope in front of her. "Anakin held his mother in his arms as she took her last breath."

Luke shivered, uncomfortable. He remembered as much, he had seen it in his vision, and he had felt Anakin's pain as the person that meant the world to Anakin died, and suddenly his world was shattered.

"Anakin — couldn't accept what had happened to his mother. Shmi Skywalker had been kidnapped and tortured by Tusken Raiders, and the injustice of the fate thrusted upon his mother weighed upon Anakin, and as his rage and hatred consumed him, he knew he had to seek revenge. So he… He destroyed the entire village, killed every man, every woman, and every child. And Luke… He didn't regret it. He would do it all over again. For love, he would."

Luke closed his eyes; he had seen that moment too, and he had felt Anakin's hatred to the bone. He remembered the screams of innocent people being slaughtered, he remembered the smell of burned flesh, he remembered the light of life being put out as Anakin murdered person after person. All because someone he loved had been taken from him—

And when the excruciating wonder of what life without Leia, or Padmé, or Han would feel like, he forced himself to open his eyes.

"That was Anakin's first touch with the darkness within him," Padmé said in a whisper, almost like she still struggled to accept it, even twenty so years after. "And the things that he told me afterwards… Trying to justify his action… It was terrifying. Looking back, I can't believe how I could have been so stupid to miss all the signs."

"He wanted absolute power, so he would never lose anybody dear to him ever again," Luke recalled from his vision, taking a few seconds to himself before leaving his trance. "I don't think you were stupid to miss the signs, mother. No, I think you were acutely aware of them. You just couldn't know what the signs would lead him to."

Padmé smiled gratefully; her sweet Luke, never once allowing anything to bring her down, not even herself.

Her smile, however, dissipated all too soon.

"You don't understand, Luke. Things started to get really… rough, once we learned we were pregnant," Padmé said, her voice small. "Anakin loved me, and Anakin loved you very much. But his nightmares wouldn't leave him alone, and the worse they got with visions of losing us, the more convicted he became to seek for a greater power that would save us all. And the things he did in his quest for greatness… Unfathomable. Unforgivable."

They both sighed, and they both had somehow stopped looking at each other's face.

"Would Anakin still descent into Darkness hadn't Palpatine been there exploiting his weakness, I don't know," Padmé pondered sadly, "Palpatine was incredibly smart while also being aided by the Force; he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to conquer the galaxy for himself, and Anakin was the key to it all. But nobody learned that Palpatine was a Sith Lord until it was too late, and Anakin was already committing crimes under his name, before the world knew him as Darth Vader."

Luke swallowed hard; he didn't think he wanted to know about the things Anakin did, yet, he found himself asking—

"What did he do, mother?"

And Padmé heard the question behind his question all too well — what did he do to her?

"There was an order cast out to kill all the Jedi," Padmé reminisced sorrowfully. "The Republic's Clone army turned on them, and most of them fell before they knew what had hit them. And since the Jedi could be no more… Anakin went to the Jedi temple, where all the padawans were and… He killed them all."

Luke felt the tears consuming his eyes, although he didn't shed any of them. How could Anakin have done that — ! He understood remotely killing children of a village unknown to him, but killing children that he most likely lived with and saw frequently? Luke couldn't fathom that, especially when he was with child himself, a child that was most likely faded to being born Force sensitive — !

"When Obi-wan told me of what he had done, I couldn't believe it either," Padmé said, relating to every thought going through Luke's mind even though she wasn't Force sensitive. "Anakin was the embodiment of love, and Anakin was the father of my children. I refused to believe he would do harm to innocent younglings," she let out a breath, "But he did. He hurt them and he mercilessly killed them all. And when I confronted him, the words that came out of his mouth weren't his; they were the Emperor's, and that's when I knew I had lost Anakin forever."

Luke laid his face on his hands, his throat constricted and making it hard to breathe.

"What happened after that?"

Padmé looked down on her lap. "We parted ways, and I never saw him again."

Luke nodded, thinking. And then — no, that wasn't true. He had seen it in his visions, he had seen the final encounter between Padmé and Anakin, and it had been merciless. Then why was Padmé lying to him — ?

And before he could stop to think properly, Luke accused, "Why are you protecting him?"

"Hm," she heard his words, but it took them a while to make sense, and she snapped her neck towards him, "What?!"

"Why are you protecting him," Luke asked again, the vein on his forehead pulsating hard as he couldn't believe that after everything that had been said and done, she would still hold allegiance to him over her son. "I know what happened, I saw it in my visions. I know what he did to you. Why are you protecting him, mother?"

Padmé stared at him intensely, unbelieving that after everything they had been through in the past months, he would still think like that.

"I wasn't protecting him, Luke," she said, strongly and harshly. "I was protecting you. Only you. No child deserves to have the image of their father trying to kill their mother in their minds."

And Luke blushed so significantly that his entire face became red. "Oh. I… I'm sorry."

And whatever tension that had accumulated briefly between them disappeared into thin air.

"It's okay," she assured, "I know you only mean well, Luke. Let's not turn on each for things that Anakin did."

Biting on the inside of his cheeks, Luke agreed. "I just — I guess I don't understand, mother. How could he do that? I thought — I thought he loved you…!"

"He did," Padmé slowly nodded with her head, "Until love was not enough. Because love upon the face of betrayal — it ends too fast, and Anakin knew that. So, in the choice between a life without me in it, and life without me at all, he chose the latter. Vader would rather not have me at all than to have me turn on him."

He listened to her attentively, even when her words stabbed him in the heart. "But what about… us? Leia and I. How could he do you harm when you were carrying his own children? Children that he supposedly loved…!"

"Like I said, I can't speak for Anakin," Padmé said, "I can't tell if he wanted all of us dead, or if it was a moment of weakness and he deeply regretted his actions afterwards. If you want those answers, you will have to ask Anakin. However, my perception from our last moments together is that Anakin became a slave of his power, be it from his own volition or Palpatine's. And once only his love for power prevailed, my love for him became nothing."

Luke lowered his gaze, trying so hard to understand. "I just… I feel like I am very like him, my father. Anakin had so much love inside of him, and so do I. The love and compassion I have for others… It defines me. I can't ever imagine forsaking this love for anything else."

Padmé smiled at him cautiously. "You are very alike, yes. However, and most importantly, Luke, you are not him."

Although Luke conceded, it was unclear whether he had been taking her words to heart. "When Anakin came to us, he said that we had called for him. Both Leia and I had, albeit unknown to us. I can't tell what Leia's reasons were, but… neither can I tell mine."

She waited as he organized his thoughts.

"I understand that the Force was showing us what we needed to see the most, and I don't know what precisely Leia's visions were. But my visions — they depicted a man that I wish I had never seen. I know that's selfish of me, to want to simply erase all the bad that Vader did while he still had Anakin's face, but mother… Every time I close my eyes, I see him trying to kill you, and I can't breathe. Mother, I can't breathe knowing what you went through, what he put you through, and as if that hadn't been enough, your children were taken from you, and… and…"

Luke took both his hands to his face, hiding the quiet tears that ran down his cheeks. He forced himself to breathe, and lowered his hands back down, revealing his reddened eyes and lifeless expression. Padmé ached from that sight of him.

"I think the Force wanted you to understand where Vader came from," Padmé said, somehow interested at how different the twins' visions had been, as Leia had been shown the immensity of Anakin's love, while Luke had seen all the pain that eventually led to Anakin's downfall. "Although Anakin is just as responsible for his descent to the Dark side, he only ever wanted to protect the people that he loved. He couldn't fathom losing those that meant everything to him, and in his despair, he turned to an innate power that shouldn't be touched. Anakin was a victim of the goodness of his heart, just as he was a victim of Palpatine, and a victim of the suit that enslaved Vader. And once everything that he had killed to achieve was striped away from him nonetheless, he had no reason to turn back to the lightness. Because the light had taken all his family away from him, while darkness had only promised to keep them alive forever. Even though darkness did not abide, darkness had promised, and that was more than light had ever done for him."

This time, Luke didn't hide the single tear that escaped his eye.

"Until… You came along, and you were ready to lose your life to Palpatine so determined that there was still good in him. For the first time, Vader came to see the light, and how the light only gives. The light gave him his son back, and a chance to try and undo his wrongs. Only when Anakin reached the light again that he understood all the suffering he had brought to the galaxy."

Luke sniffed, unable to speak.

"I hope you don't hear this as me trying to defend him," Padmé said, "I could never defend him. Luke, I gave my life for the Republic, and Vader destroyed everything that I tried to achieve. As if that hadn't been enough, he still hurt you, and Leia, and for that, I will always hate him. Even though I still love Anakin, and will always love Anakin."

He quickly ran his hand against his cheek. "And you."

"I'm sorry?"

"He didn't only hurt Leia and I," Luke said, his voice faltering, "He also hurt you. I feel like you try to erase the things he did to you, diminish them as if they never mattered. Well, they do, mother."

By now, it was Padmé's turns to have her eyes watering. "I'm just trying to be strong, Luke. To stand tall on my feet with what was left of me."

He found it funny, if anything, that both Leia and Padmé spoke about what was left of them once the worst happened to them. But that was wrong; they might have been stolen of the person they were before, but they had never lost their essence. So long as their essences prevailed, they would never turn into something less.

"Mother, you don't have to try and be strong when strength is already embedded into who you are," Luke argued, knowing how uncomfortable she became when she was the one through the magnifying glass, as well as knowing the importance of showing her he was just a safe haven as she was to him. "That said, there lies no weakness amidst vulnerability. You taught me as much."

Padmé chuckled softly — she didn't deserve him.

"I want you to be comfortable coming to us when you need us," Luke said, "For the past decades, you were forced to live a life that wasn't your own, and you were taught how to suppress everything regarding the name that wasn't yours anymore. But you're here now, you're Padmé again, and I need you to understand that you can let it out when you need. Leia and I will be there for you. I can promise you as much."

She smiled, and her smile held all her gratitude. "I know, Luke. And I appreciate it more than you can imagine."

Luke returned her smile, and for a while, he expectantly looked at her like she would start divulging her burdens to him right on the spot. When she didn't, Luke simply shrugged. They had the rest of their lives to get to know each other.

"Wow, all this conversation has taken a lot more of me than I expected," Luke said, his tone more alive than before. "There's only one way I know of cheering us back up."

Padmé tilted her head, a little interested, and when it hit her, she rolled her eyes at him.

"More ice cream?"

Smirking excitedly, Luke conceded, "You've read my mind," and he eagerly grabbed her by the hand. Content with himself, and with the things that he came to understand, as he had run the risk of being intimate with his brokenness and it only made him stronger than before.


The following morning, when Luke Skywalker stopped by the Millennium Falcon wearing his brand new clothes, looking like a prince himself, Han and Leia could only stare at him with consternation.

Luke seemed to miss their faces of bewilderment, joining the couple at the game table with his heads on the clouds and softly humming songs to himself.

Leia exchanged a look with Han, hiding her smirk behind her hand — her brother, looking so fashionable; now that was something she never thought she would see in her lifetime.

Han chuckled at her reaction, and then snapped at Luke, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Hm?" Luke was caught off guard, at last acknowledging the dirty looks they were offering him. "Oh, you mean my clothes?"

Han made a face to say — what else would it be?

A little self consciously, Luke giggled. "Padmé."

He searched for his sister's eyes, hoping for some kind of approval — since she was the most stylish person he knew. And when she gave him a strong nod, with a proud smile stamped across her lips, his self-consciousness disappeared.

And they all followed normally with their day, safe for one or another petty comment from Han regarding his new stylish choices.


A/N: don't go before leaving me comments ahah you're so sexy