A blink of the eyes. A tanned face looking back up at me, no expression. Emotions tightly sealed in. But they escape through this insolent, single blink.

I remember that gesture. I used it well. A way of getting around the formalities of elders, of society and the higher ones. No speaking needed; just blink. The number of times I used it on Obi-wan. On any of the council members. It can be taken however they wish, usually. But when he uses it…as a former user I know what it means. I know the thoughts that go with it. And the feelings. You can be force strong, but the smallest twitch or spasm of a muscle can tell another person everything.

It wasn't that way when we got in the transport and on our way to the emperor. He was pleading by then, he knew there was good. Could feel it in me.

I told him that he was wasting his time. No real Jedi would squander such energy on a dark force user. Besides, what was there for me to turn back for? Nothing at all.

Not even him.

And that was that. The face went slack, hurt flashing across features similar to what mine had been, then tightened, and then…nothing. Like a statue face with nothing there. Facing forward. Only to turn when I ask him once more to turn to the dark side, with me, his father. What I get is a blink. And then nothing again.

For some reason that hurts more than anything in the past twenty five years. But then, this is my son. And he is turning away from me. Like everyone else before. Thinking I was wrong. Anger and hate sweeps through me.

Those are my eyes, doing that impertinent blink at me, blue eyes of my youth. They look at me then turn away. Focusing instead on the wall, an interesting metal. A light metal. Always choosing the light. I look at my hand. Black suit. Black…dark. Define irony. I put my hand down and walk ahead of my son, my feet pounding on the floor. I sound like a sulking child. I probably look like one too. I turn to see what he is doing. Staring at the floor as he walks. But looking close, I see him taking in his surroundings, all the troops, the doors and passageways. Maybe he thinks he will live if he defies the emperor. Such brazen ignorance sparks my temper more.

The elevator keeps rising, along with my anger. He says nothing, but shifts uncomfortably in my angered presence. 'Good' I feel that little voice in my head, the one that has controlled most of my actions for some time now. 'Let him marinate in your anger for a while, feel your power, he will obey you, you are his father, something he has never had'. I can feel the emperor close now, taking pleasure in my dark thoughts.

And then we are before the emperor, Luke still insolently turning away from the dark side of the force. 'Why? Why so adamant?' I frown, and feel the mask against the ridges of my eyebrows.

'Anakin, you are going down a path that I cannot follow you'.

That voice. That sweet voice invades my head. A path not meant to be followed? By me or Luke? I find myself confused all of a sudden, as if the last twenty five years were a blur. One innocent face blurring into the rest. Save one, who looks out the window, watching his friends and allies die. The man with my face. My good face. My light face.

But that doesn't stop me from saving my master, as my son's anger becomes too much. Without realising it he starts to use the dark side, his anger and hurt fuelling his ruthless smashes against my sabre. Then, my arm is ripped from me. There is no pain, just a sudden awareness, or lack thereof, of the mechanical arm that has been there for more than two decades. I stare at it forlornly. I glance around the room, half expecting Padme to run up me, cradling my wound. Like the last time.

But only the emperor appears. Wires cleanly sliced through.

He let me live. He used the dark side, but wasn't tempted. A realisation occurs to me, as I watch the emperor electrocute him. I can feel him getting weaker and weaker. His arms reaching out.

"Father."

A profound realisation it seems. 'I turned away from him, away from the light.' He was never meant to join me, but I to join him.

The emperor is light, like a feather with bolts still coming out his hands. A lethal feather. Generally lethal. It winds me, as I feel energy surging through my systems, short-circuiting my breathing apparatus. I listen to my breathing, loud and machine like in the silence of the room.

Is this a path I can follow? Is this a path I can be followed?

I watch Luke as he struggles to carry me to a ship. He is exhausted I can see. His cheeks are red with the excursion, but the rest of his face pale, weak from the emperors' use of the dark force on him. He breathes through his mouth as he stumbles along, smiling up at me every few minutes.

I know I'm going to die. I can feel it. But I feel like I am being born again. A painful passage back into the light. We stop on the ramp of my ship, he looks at me. Maybe he knows I'm going to die too.

But no, he does not it seems. He is looking at the mask, trying to see through. I tell him to remove it. I want him to see me. I want to see him.

The light hurts my darkened eyes. But he is beautiful, gazing at me steadily with those blue, blinking eyes. Watching my face closely. He is a better me. Still me, but with the memories of fighting me, and knowing what became of me. To join the dark side, would be a fall. Not a gain.

For all the Jedi forbade Love, companionship, possession…in the end, it seems these things saved me. My son, Luke Skywalker is the last thing I see as I close my eyes for the last time.

I fall back into darkness, but it is friendly, a warm cloak, welcoming in its embrace.

Peacefully, I die.

THE END