Chapter 15 – By the Moonlight

DISCLAIMER: We (unfortunately) do not own Star Wars. :P

Author's Note: Father and daughter have a talk... and Vader speaks with Ahsoka.

~ Amina Gila

The night is quiet and still, moonlight flooding the garden with a beautiful glow. Vader stands in the garden like a monolith, only his respirator giving any indication that he's alive. The peaceful tranquility all around him scarcely soothes the turmoil in his heart and soul. Obi-Wan is gone, having left hours prior to go retrieve Luke from Tatooine. Truthfully, Vader doesn't even know why he's going along with it. He shouldn't have because he's – he's not a good person. He won't be a good father either, so it would be better if they never know him.

He wishes he could breathe in the fresh air and feel the breeze blowing across his face like he could in his paradise. If the surgeries go well, he might be able to again, but it won't be the same. Even if he can escape his life support suit, he won't be able to live. He doesn't want to live. It's become utterly pointless, and the loathing for himself, for his life, for his actions is burrowed so deeply into himself that he tries to shy away from that train of thought lest it overwhelm him the way it did earlier.

He deserves the worst possible pain and more… but he still wants to escape. He – he wants Padme. When he was there in his reality, she was there, and he was finally whole again. All of it was nothing more than a projection from his mind, but part of him can't help but wonder – hope – if there wasn't a lingering impression from her spirit which was in contact with him. He's being crushed under the weight of his oppressive thoughts, and there's no one here to help him.

"Father?" Leia's voice rips him abruptly back to reality, and he starts slightly, not having noticed her approaching. She's wearing a nightgown now, her hair in a simple braid down her back. Her feet are in shoes with no socks. She really ought to be in bed right now.

"Yes, my child?" Vader replies softly, as softly as he can with his vocoder. He couldn't sleep; he rarely ever does or needs to. Maybe this is a dream or – or maybe he's going mad. Maybe this is his paradise, and everything else he'd seen was nothing more than a nightmare. Force, it wouldn't surprise him if, after everything, he's gone insane.

She skips over to him, unflinchingly coming to a halt at his side. "I couldn't sleep," she announces. "I'm too excited to meet my brother, and I sometimes come out here when I can't sleep, because it's so peaceful."

Vader lets his gaze wander over the cared for bushes, trees, and plants all around them. "It is peaceful," he agrees solemnly, turning his head towards her again. Why does he feel so awkward? He doesn't know how to treat her, or interact with her, or anything. He ought to know; she's his daughter, but he never raised her. That sends a burning rage through him, and it feels, for a moment, as though his blood has been replaced by anger.

Leia shivers slightly, obviously feeling his tumultuous emotions, before she motions to a nearby bench. "Let's sit down," she declares before unceremoniously dropping onto the bench and pulling up her legs until her feet on the edge.

Vader twitches before slowly moving to sit on the other end of the bench. "Are you going to take me away?" Leia queries quietly, a hint of fear in her voice. She turns her head to regard him, something pleading in her gaze which makes his heart clench.

She's his daughter. It would be within his right to do it, but… she's been happy here. It's so obvious. Would it make her unhappy to leave? Really, much at it hurts, it would be her decision to make. Besides, if he takes her, then he has to live, because he'll have a child – or two – depending on him. "Would it make you unhappy to leave?" he asks in turn.

Leia studies him, and it suddenly strikes him that her position – legs drawn up to her chest – is an unconscious defense mechanism. "Not sometimes," she tells him, biting her lip, "But I don't want to be gone forever, because this is my home. I've never known anything or anyone else."

It's strikingly ironic how he's lost her before he ever really got her. She's his daughter, but she doesn't want him, not really. The memory of earlier worms its way into his mind, and he resists the urge to sigh. She obviously cares for him – or maybe the idea of him – but still, she's right. Alderaan is her home. The Organas are her family; they shouldn't be, but they are. He can't just take everything away from her, not if he cares for her. If he does, she'll resent him for it. He… doesn't want that, so here she must stay. And what does it matter anyways? If he dies by Sidious's hands, then none of this will matter. He realizes suddenly that he doesn't want death quite as much as he had in the beginning.

"Then, no," he says what feels like an eternity later. "I will not take you away."

Her face lights up, and she begins swinging her legs, before smothering a yawn. Immediately, she gives him a sideways glance, probably hoping that he didn't see. "You should be in bed," he chides, rising. "Come. Show me the way back."

"I don't want to go up yet," she whines, tilting her head to stare up at the sky. If he were a proper parent, he would insist that she go anyways, but he caves, letting her sit there next to him, lost in her thoughts. It's only when her eyes begin to close that he stands up.

"Your bedroom?" he questions, pulling his sleepy daughter to her feet.

"That way," she mumbles, blinking and pointing. She begins walking, wavering unsteadily. It must be later than he'd realized. Or maybe not. He knows little about caring for children.

Vader hesitates for but a second before lifting her into his arms. She squeaks a protest but settles down quickly when he sends her a calming feeling through the Force. "Which way?" he queries again, and she waves an arm in the right direction. He follows her guidance silently, relishing the feel of his daughter in his arms.

All too soon, he arrives at his destination, eyeing his surroundings with curiosity as he deposits Leia on her bed, pulling the blanket over her small form. "Sleep well, my daughter," he murmurs, brushing a hand over her head before returning to the garden once more to continue his pointless vigil. He knows that no one will be stupid enough to attack, but he's still fearful. Sidious could find him, and he doesn't want to be caught off guard.

If there is an attack, he'll have plenty of time to escape, preferably with Ahsoka and Leia. He doesn't have his own lightsaber – Ahsoka didn't give it back to him – but he does have a lightsaber. It's the one he took from Mustafar. Slowly, he unclips it from where it was hidden behind his cape, turning the rusted hilt over in his hands as he remembers the day that he gave it to Ahsoka again. It's so hard to remember those days, and not only because they were so much happier than now. Then, he was actually worth something, actually capable of helping, but now? Nothing he does can nullify his deeds.

"Do you ever sleep?" Ahsoka's voice cuts through his thoughts, and he looks up to see her slowly approaching him.

"On occasion," he answers, fingers clenching on the lightsaber hilt in his hands. It's almost surreal to see her here willingly, after the things he's done, after how they parted.

"Nothing will happen," she assures him, moving closer, eyes searching his mask. "Bail has enough agents to know if anyone dangerous arrives at the planet."

He doesn't answer, instead lifting the lightsaber into the air and letting it hover before him with the Force. It's almost like a symbol of the times gone by, and he doesn't want to relinquish it. "Do you remember when I gave this to you?" he inquires softly, getting lost in reminiscing on the past. He recalls it with a wistful nostalgia. There might have been war, but he hadn't been so terribly alone then.

Ahsoka's eyes widen when she sees it, her breath catching in her throat. "Yes," she whispers, seeming unable to tear her gaze away from it.

The moonlight glistens against the metal, almost making it seem as though the weapon is a prized trophy from another era. And in a way, Vader supposes it is. He doesn't say anything, not as he draws it back to his hand, and not as he sees a sheen of tears in Ahsoka's blue eyes. He clips it to his belt again, leaving it hidden by his cape.

"You kept it all this time," she murmurs. It's not really a question, but he can hear – sense – some undertone to her words, almost as though she's made a revelation. "I'm sorry," she blurts out suddenly. "I'm sorry for leaving you, for never contacting you, but you do understand why I did, don't you?"

"I understand," he intones flatly because he does. Her reasoning is sound, but the scars it left on him aren't something he can easily forgive. How many nights did he silently rail at her for abandoning him when he needed her?

"Never again," she vows in a low voice. "I won't leave you, Anakin. Not this time."

"Words," he retorts dismissively, crossing his arms and shifting so he's not facing her anymore. She stands there unmoving, and he can feel, for a moment, her pain and uncertainty. She wants to reach him, but she doesn't know how. It makes him feel guilty that he's hurting her, but he doesn't know how to stop. This is why he needs to be away from her, from everyone. This is why he needs to be dead, so he can't hurt anyone anymore.

After a long minute – or two or more – Vader turns towards his former Padawan again. "Would you like it back?"

She stares at him, before shaking her head. "I have two lightsabers," she answers simply. "I don't need another. Besides, you've kept it all this time. It's yours now."

His. Just like her string of Padawan beads was his after she left. He wonders where it is now; he didn't see it in his apartment at the Temple when he finally returned there from Mustafar. It doesn't matter. She won't be his Padawan again anyways. Even if not in name, she's a Jedi Knight all the same.

His fingers seek out the lightsaber hilt, and he fiddles with it aimlessly, mind unable to find rest. Ahsoka stays with him, and they're still there as the sun rises.