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Chapter 8: Clothes Make The ManVader's silence felt like years instead of seconds. His mouth moved silently, maybe trying the sounds of the words. When he looked up, his eyes were clear and looked hazel from the streaks of gold and blue.
I held myself still, inside and out.
"Dada. No remote father or old papa." He grinned a transcendent moment of joy. "You're the old man, Bobo."
It was much like not startling one of my Master's wild strays, but I took slow and deep breath. "As soon as the little Princess has finished or doesn't want any more fruit, she should get her bottle."
Vader hummed something with barely a tune as he fed Leia.
"Speak to them. They should learn your voice, Master Dada." Elevens was cleaning and moving supplies around.
Vader startled at the droid's comment, but couldn't seem to think of anything to say to them.
Luke gave a little burp after he finished his formula, and gave me a glorious smile.
I played with his tiny feet. "Maybe Dada would like to read your bedtime story tonight?"
Vader looked at me, his eyes looking panicky.
I tried to send some calm, knowing the trickle the bracelets allowed wouldn't do much against the strength of his emotions. Even with that, he started to calm slowly.
"Their favorites are in that stack by the chair. If you want to get settled with Leia, I'll bring Luke over."
Leia looked up and spit up fruit colored formula on Vader's tunic. She wasn't upset and reached for the bottle again.
Vader just looked at her.
I was happy to continue tickling Luke, and we laughed together. I could not find it unseemly to laugh at Lord Vader's precious Sith tunic was decorated by his daughter. I had little more appreciation for the uniform required for our excursion to the roof just now.
"If I could take Miss Leia, Master Skywalker, you could attend to your uniform." Elevens took Leia and presented the mashed orange berries again. "If I might suggest it, you might want an apron or change of clothing for your visits? Perhaps a lighter color suitable for the young?"
Vader glared at me, wanting to accuse me of something... anything. "I'm not wearing light robes! What happened to my old changes?"
I hadn't expected that question after these months and waved around the apartment. "I had to clean out as baby things accumulated."
"My robe is over there!"
Choosing the right words remained so important, more important than indulging my anger and sarcasm, or even my most secret hope. "Something of their father. I only wish I had something of their mother's as well. They should know her, too."
Then I braced for Vader's reaction. I didn't know how he remembered Padmé after her death.
His ire deflated. "She made, we made, so many plans for after the war."
I decided not to bother that quiet reflection for a few minutes and encouraged Luke to move toward and reach for the stuffed interceptor.
Leia was eating again, but looking toward her abstracted father and preparing her demands for living attention instead of Elevens.
Little Luke was watching his sister and father, like waiting for a geyser.
Like I was.
"Vader, you could select something in a brighter color for when you are here. I'm sure Vens could select something child-appropriate if you ask him." I tried fairly hard to keep the humor out of my voice, but there was no 'do.' Droid fashion sense was an oxymoron, hit or mess at best.
This explosion came as laughter, clean and bright. "No, I don't kriffin' think so."
I allowed myself a deeper breath and small smile with Luke's.
Leia made a face and bleated into a shriek, her face all red.
Jarred from his humor, again Vader seemed shocked.
Standing with Luke, I told Vader, "You have about thirty seconds to clean that off before she reaches ear-piercing. Go on..."
When I reached Leia and Elevens, I sent calm and comfort, but she just wasn't listening. Luke started feeling fretful as well as I held them.
Vader hurried back as the volume reached its peak, threatening to become a duet. He'd stuffed a big towel to cover his front and reached for his daughter.
She quieted as soon as she could grab at the towel and pull.
"Are you doing this deliberately? You've soothed much larger groups, and these are just infants." He wasn't quite angry, but irritated in the sudden silence.
It was easier to stay amused at the sight of him, with a huge, white fluffy bib hiding and protecting most of his uniform from his daughter. "No, Dada. This happens several times a week. I'm a bit limited these days in using the Force." I rattled the bracelet on my free arm, because he seemed to have forgotten.
Luke started reaching across the room for Vader, a toothless grin filling his face.
"Yes, Sunny. Dada will still read you a story as soon as he gets settled with your sister."
Vader sat in the wide armchair, settling Leia. I put Luke in his usual spot for story time, grabbing the top book to hand to their father.
As I settled on the sofa, Vader awkwardly found the place to put the three of them so they all could see the book.
"What do I do?"
"Read the story aloud to them. They like when you make sounds. They won't understand much at this age, but they will learn your voice." I had to look away for a moment. "With your long absences, they might have thought you were a stranger. A month is an eternity at that age."
Vader's skin paled and he turned the pages of the book. "Fine. Sora was a big, big girl. Her teacher said it was time for her to fly all by herself. Sora was a little scared, but he said that was okay. She needed to take a very important package to the moon and back..."
His voice smoothed out as Leia and Luke settled while listening to him. He even noticed when they focused on the extra sounds from the story.
I wondered if and when he noticed from the art that she was clearly a Padawan learning to fly a Jedi Actis interceptor. Someone had censored the book before it had been printed. How long until even that was clouded?
They had fallen asleep before he reached the halfway point. "Does this happen a lot?"
"Almost always, sooner if they don't like the story."
Looking at the pages left, he wondered, "How does it end?"
"Later she fights pirates or mercenaries attacking Ando from orbit and gets a medal for destroying the command vessel."
"Where's her teacher?" His contempt made his realization clear.
I only shrugged. "Piloting a ship to Kellar. The single picture looks like a diplomatic mission and some were in formal garb, but any explanation is gone. The story is about the young pilot." I was convinced the one diplomat was a child's view of Padmé on a treaty mission to a Separatist world. The book was clearly written a year or two ago. It was a comfort to pretend my former Padawan was in the crowd, happy and free and sane in the story.
"Are they all like this, propaganda for the Jedi?"
With that I could not resist rolling my eyes. "Jedi pilots were among the best. You know that as well as anyone. That had little to do with the Code, and more to do with Force sensitivity. You survived many flights only because of the sensitivity."
Vader almost spoke, but remained silent.
I got up to help get Leia and Luke settled to sleep. Elevens was cleaning when we returned to the common room, but would settle again soon.
Vader didn't seem to know what to say either, and the silence grew too long before he finally spoke again. "That uniform doesn't look too bad. Maybe I'll steal one next visit. It matches your eyes sometimes."
Where did that come from?