Standard disclaimer: I don't own/profit from Star Wars or it's affiliated characters.
Personal Interests
Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, made his way down a brightly lit hallway aboard the Star Destroyer Executor. With his long stride, he passed row after row of locked doors with windows too small to be properly seen through. Despite their identical nature, he promptly turned on his heel at a quite specific door, using the Force to unlock the cell. The language of the dark figure's actions spoke loudly of one who had repeated this action before on repetition.
The boy inside no longer flinched when Darth Vader entered. And yet, a gentle, unnoticed probe through the force proved the child was far from unemotional, anger and bitterness and hopelessness portrayed heavily as if the child's mind was a book to be read. If this had been any other prisoner, Darth Vader would have relished in these emotions and would have drawn them out for as long as he could manage to keep the child alive. But for some reason, from the moment he had stopped this child from stealing the lightsaber of Anakin Skywalker to having captured the boy from his rebel friends and brought him aboard the Executor, something made the Dark Lord pause when he considered his usual tactics for gaining information. When he searched for answers through the Force, however, it merely seemed to laugh at him, as if he were missing something that should have been obvious.
Thus, Darth Vader continued to return to the child's cell, and wonder.
"Do you feel like speaking today?"
This too was a strange but seemingly right emotion the Dark Lord had been facing as of recent: patience. Something about this rebel softened him, a fact Vader faced with both apprehension and curiosity. Patience was not something he chose often, nor an emotion he found easy to hold onto once grasped. More often then not, he would take the idea of this "patience" and toss it as far as he could throw. Yet, as of recent, patience seemed a herding dog nipping at his heels, as if guiding him towards the unanswered questions calling to him but remaining just out of touch.
The still nameless child remained clad in the remains of a tattered black cloak and hood that covered him as best it could against the cold of space. It was a haunting sight when two icy blue eyes stared out from beneath the shadows towards him, finally acknowledging another presence in the room. The glare behind it was not accompanied by a voice, nor had it ever been since the boy had been brought to this cell. Ever since his capture, the boy had refused to speak.
"I will find out your name eventually, young one."
The endearment – for that truly is what it was, a Dark Lord of the Sith endearing and attaching himself to a child – caused the boy to look up sharply, eyes narrowed. Of course, it helped to accept this endearment that the child's Force potential easily surpassed the Dark Lord's own. With the child's loyalty, nothing could stop him from taking control of his Empire. Or at least, the Empire that was soon-to-be his, the tipping of the scale awaiting the decision of loyalty of a single boy.
It was not a scale that Darth Vader would allow to tip in any direction but that of his own.
Turning away as only a child would, the boy clearly shivered, tucking his knees close to his chest as he made himself shrink upon his small cot, the only piece of furniture in the room. Darth Vader sighed internally before doing something that any guard or officer would immediately be executed for witnessing: pulling the cape off his own shoulders, he wrapped it gently around the boy's. Jumping at the contact, the blue eyes warily watched the dark figure back away before wrapping himself in the warmth of the costly fabric.
Deciding this was enough progress for one day, Vader was walking to the door when a soft sound made him pause. Head turning towards the boy, he waited to see if it would sound once more.
"Luke."
Perhaps patience was a tool the Dark Lord should apply more often. Satisfaction rang soundly through the Force, Vader remaining silent as he once more faced the child. The satisfied sensation prodded the child across the Force, prompting him to continue.
"My name is Luke. Luke Skywalker."
Now that was unexpected. It was as if the missing piece of the map clicked into place, and the Force screamed to him an answer that should have been obvious the moment he melded his mind with this child's.
The hood came down slowly, exposing sandy blond locks to go with the blue eyes. He couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen. Confusion tapped on the Dark Lord's suddenly shielded mind from the child – Anakin Skywalker's child. The boy was still unaware what consequences would come from that very name passing through his lips, the Force now laughing its I-told-you-so! at the dumbfounded Lord.
Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, soon-to-be Emperor of the Imperial Empire, fell to his knees before the now very startled boy.
"What?"