Vader was not in the habit of ogling at the dancing girls in the court. He allowed them, to please the moffs and imperials in his court, but he did not indulge in them himself. He had loved but two women in his life, he found he had no room in his heart for another.
His son, however, appeared to be taking a keen interest in their performance. An unusual amount, even. Before this day, he had never known Luke to have much of an interest in women at all. But tonight appeared to be an exception.
Being an inhabitant of Tatooine, much to Vader's frustration, Luke was never one to turn down a meal. Food was not plentiful on the planet, and younglings learned from their first tentative forays into solids, that you ate what you were given.
As such, Luke usually ate what was placed in front of him, regardless of what planet, species, or questionable tradition it hailed from. It had been useful at times. There had been a few tense moments where only the crown prince partaking a meal, when all others had turned up their noses, that had saved courtly dinners from becoming courtly brawls.
And yet, Luke barely touched his plate, leaving it nearly as full as it had come to him when it was swept away for the next course.
It was concerning, that his son's appetite was quenched by something that appeared no different than any other night.
However, as Luke's plates were swept away again and again, and the meal waxed on, it became increasingly clear his son's attention was not caught by the dancing, but by one particular dancer.
A red headed, green eyes voluptuous woman, who Vader could admit danced well. Better even, than her coworkers. Perhaps it had to do with the sly, delighted, sharp look in her emerald eyes. As if she knew something the audience did not, and enjoyed flaunting it to them.
It did not seem enough to merit this level of attention, however. And yet, she had somehow captured his son's attention.
And she had noticed.
More than once, he caught her winking directly at him, or smiling in his direction, and performing some particularly evocative motion.
This… did not please him. It was not that he wished his son to never enjoy the attentions of a woman, but that he was not sure Luke understood the consequences that came with it. Five months had not been enough to convince his son that love was a two sided dagger that was impossible to prevent from hurting oneself with. It hadn't been enough to convince his son of much of anything, other than that his father was apparently ripe with potential to return to the light.
Such a naive assumption made him wish to shake the boy by his shoulders. Or to cast him down with the dark side and to feed its power to him until he broke. It would be a mercy, to have it done to him by one who cared, rather than the cold, unfeeling hands of fate.
It was his second greatest shame that he had not the courage to do so.
Regardless of how he felt about anything, the dancer appeared to be making her way slowly across the floor, artfully closing the distance between her and his son with a series of flips and twirls.
Luke stiffened, and glanced nervously at his father and back at the woman. Only, instead of rapt attention, his gaze appeared fearful, his head and gaze pointing way from himself. A desperate attempt to warn the favored dancer away from the vengeful father? His son had always had an usual streak of mercy within him.
Yet still closer the dancer came, until she danced directly in front of the royal table. Waving her veils, and smirking all the while.
Finally she paused directly in front of Luke, going so far so as to stare directly into his eyes.
Her smirk deepened. Slowly and deliberately, her hand snaked into her rather exposed buxom and removed a silken cloth the exact shade of her hair. Theatrically she raised it to her lips and applied a butterfly light kiss, staining it just a hint of coloring from her facial paint.
She reached across the table and took Luke's clenched hand. Never breaking his gaze- his son seemed to be transfixed- she placed the cloth into his hand and closed his fingers around it.
Luke's cheeks and ears promptly burned a brilliant red. But his fist remained tight around that golden red cloth, and his gaze never strayed from his point of fascination.
The woman blew a kiss and skipped away.
Finally, Luke snapped out of his trance. Quickly he stuffed the cloth into the small, mostly decorative, pocket in his uniform.
"Do not pursue her."
Luke blushed an even deeper red, as if he had only just noticed his father must have seen that incident. Perhaps soon he would soon realize so had half the court.
"Ah…um- why?" He asked intelligently.
"I sensed no honesty in her. She shows no interest in you, my son. Only your position and power. Best leave the… minx be."
Luke managed to clamber onto his high horse, even with his colorful face. "Maybe I want someone like that."
Vader only hummed his disagreement, and turned his attention to two Grand Moffs that were almost certainly planning a coup.
Luke was not the most obedient of sons. He refused to touch the dark side. Refused to fight against the rebellion. Refused the many titles and honorifics other than the one that labeled him his father's son.
However, other than these three issues, Vader had found that if he made a direct order, Luke would follow it.
Which was why he was rather perturbed to see his son nude collapsed against the equally naked red haired vixen from the night before.
The blankets and sheets that had once graced the bed were now thrown down to the end of it. Vader wondered grimly what images they had seen that this woman had no doubt inflicted on his son to make him behave so uncharacteristically.
The sun, pouring through frosted windows, edged a little lower, hitting the eyes of his son's would be lover. Her eyes fluttered, then focused blearily on the tall, enormous figure hovering over the two of them.
Screaming would have been an appropriate response. A shriek and grasping for blankets would have done just as well.
What was not an appropriate response was for her to roll her eyes, slap Luke's arm, and say rather loudly- "Farmboy, your daddy's here."
Luke bolted awake, yelped, and called up the blankets from the bottom of the bed to cover himself. "Father! I thought you were taking care of the rebelling Moffs."
"It went… smoother than expected." Vader replied icily.
Already his son was flushing redder than the Minx's hair. "Listen- I just- I didn't mean for you-"
"To find that you directly disobeyed my orders to the highest degree possible. That my own son would be so easily seduced by an attractive face and willing body. If that is so, it is good I am here to cushion your fall."
For a moment he considered raising his hand and choking the woman right then and there. But no doubt, that would upset his son. He settled for raising a finger and shaking it at her. "You will never dance in this court again. Take your things and leave, pray we do not meet again. I will not be so merciful twice. "
She smirked and had the audacity to lean one arm against Luke's shoulder. "He hasn't told you."
Luke slumped. "Maybe you should just go."
"Tell me what?"
Force, if his foolish son had proposed, or even worse, married her already-
The minx's slender hand reached out into the air, and from the long abandoned line of clothing from the door to the bed wizzed a small item to her palm.
He stilled.
If she had managed to charm the likes of his son with the force, then one way or another he could not let her leave this room alive.
She held out the item to him, unaware of the thin line she walked on. "I believe this will mean something to you."
He summoned it with the force and held it up for his, rather poor, eyesight to examine.
It was a small snippet of Jedul, a rare stone on Tatooine favored by the wealthy to decorate the floors of their homes. On it, carved in the ancient hieroglyphic huttese writing system predating the modern alphabet, were the symbols "love", "admiration", and "one".
One, in the sense that they were one. Through marriage.
The Minx's eyes glimmered again with that knowledge she knew that Vader did not. "I am Mara Jade Skywalker. It pleases me to meet you, father."
His fingers clenched around the stone. "How long."
If it had only been a day he may yet stand a chance of convincing his son of the dangers of marrying the likes of her. But if it had been longer-
"We got married a week after Bespin." Luke said quickly. "But we've been dating ever since I joined the rebellion."
This earned him a cuff on the back of his head by his… wife. She turned to look at Vader knowingly. "He tends to exaggerate. We were purely friends for two years. We dated in the year up to Bespin."
"Well all I know is that you kissed me on Life day-"
"I was drunk." She said rather stiffly.
Luke eyed her. "Han always says that a drunk person is the only honest person in the galaxy."
"Absolute banthapoodoo." Mara said without missing a beat. "He only said that so Leia would believe him when he told her he loved her after that bottle of Corellian wine."
"Well he was being honest then, wasn't he?"
She rolled her eyes to the heavens and slid her arms around his neck to kiss his jaw. "Very well. We dated three years."
"Why," Vader said, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation, "are you here?"
She flapped a hand and continued speaking in between kisses along Luke's jaw. "Rebellion… gave me… two weeks… vacation."
Luke, who was trying unsuccessfully to edge his way out of his wife's affections, suddenly lit up. "Two weeks?"
"Eight days." She corrected, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. "I had some… business. And it took me a while to get here."
"Oh." Luke grinned. "How annoyed do you think the rebellion would be if you became the Empire's princess?"
Her hand fisted in Luke's hair. "Quite."
She kissed Luke. Passionately.
Vader decided to tactfully retreat afterwards. It was obvious that he stood no chance of calming the wave of the passion that came from five months separation. He made a note to clear his son's schedule for the next two days.
For a moment, he compared the brazen, firey, overly sexual woman his son loved, and compared her to the soft, demure, beautiful love of his own past.
But then, his own wife had always found a way of reminding her husband of her beauty in the worst of situations. And under her gentle ways had been a well refined sense of humor and stubbornness. She had been afraid of nothing. Not unlike this woman.
He supposed this… Mara would do well enough.
I have actually never read and official legends material with Mara Skywalker in it.
Make of that what you will.