26. It's Me… I think

"It is me, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan Kenobi simply stared back, mouth agape at the sound of his voice. What to say?

Vader, on the other hand, felt a stream of confessions welling inside of him, trying to surge out, but his first issue was, well, his statement.

"It is me, Obi-Wan". What did he really mean by "me". He didn't know. He was no longer Anakin Skywalker, he would have to once more replace his costume and become Darth Vader, at least for now to keep the Emperor at bay. But he didn't feel like Vader anymore, and he could not remember what it felt like to be Anakin Skywalker. All he knew, was that he was the man that Obi-Wan was struggling to believe was standing before him. As for what he'd call himself, he did not know.

In a voice that didn't sound like his own, Obi-Wan replied without thinking, "but who are you."

At least they were both on the same path. Neither Obi-Wan nor Vader himself could really answer that question.

Finally Vader replied, "I'm not really sure right now, but I once was what you think I am. As for who I am now, perhaps that is what I am seeking, " he said, as his eyes lowered to the ground. He watched as a fat teardrop fell from his lids and landed on the sand like a tiny orb soon dissipating due to the sheer heat. And then, he saw bare feet approaching him, just as slowly as everything else seemed to be happening. He couldn't raise his head to meet that face.

Then, he felt a hand fall on his shoulder, the shock of it sending shivers throughout his body.

Obi-Wan really had no idea what to do, but felt the urge to finally break whatever barrier was keeping them apart. As his hand fell to the man's shoulder, he grasped it, and was soon greeted with the gaze of eyes of deep water. The words fell from his lips, "if I were once your brother, I am always your brother."

Vader could no longer hold it and fell into the older mans arms, then lowered to his knees and grasped the ends of his cloak, looking up at him questioningly like a child. "I need to know Obi-Wan, I need to know the truth. I know you would never lie, I need the truth. Please Obi-Wan, Please, I need the truth."

With that, he dropped his head with shame and wept, knowing, without Obi-Wan even saying anything, just the look of remembrance, of what once was, and what once happened. He knew that he had betrayed and been betrayed. He had lied, and been lied to. He had not been the chosen one, this was not how it was supposed to happen. He was not bringing peace to the Force. At one time, he had been on the right track, but now, he was so far away from what could have been that fabled character, to one more gruesome than fiction.

…

It seemed he had passed out. It was many hours later when Vader resumed consciousness, and the darkness seemed to envelop the tiny hut from outside the few windows. In fact, both of them had passed out. It was simply a fact that Obi-Wan had become so much stronger with his connection to the living Force that he was able to come back-to only moments after they had both fallen to the dusty ground.

Across the room, Obi-wan sat, clean and cross-legged, facing the small fire built to ward off the evening chill. A calm was all about the room. Vader did not know it, but in fact, he sensed it the moment he awoke and knew that he was now summing up his situation.

Vader observed the room surrounding him, just one minimal room with a tiny barely functional archaic style bathroom area. He was on what appeared to be Obi-Wan's sleeping couch. It had to be, it simply reeked of Obi-Wan's intrinsic scent. A small kitchen area was in the back to the left and open to the rest of the room, which consisted of a small but comfortable looking chair to the side of the fireplace, the fireplace itself, a hand woven rug in front of the fire place where Obi-Wan sat placidly, and then where he was, in the simple sleeping couch of a man who had become a hermit.

'Very appropriate,' thought Vader as he surmised the space. 'I always thought at the temple that if they would allow him to live in a cave, he would...' then he stopped, and his thinking went a completely different way, '… the temple'

Quickly, he brushed away that thought and just as quickly it was replaced by another, 'someone is going to be looking for me soon.'

He didn't want to leave, but felt as if he couldn't until he had spoken to Obi-Wan. But what after that? And would any talking be enough? And what about the Emperor? What if Sidious finds out? What would they do to him? What would they do to Obi-Wan?

He swung his legs over the side of the make-shift bed and noticed that his boots had been placed neatly beside the foot of the sleep couch. Just like he used to do when he was younger and fell asleep with his boots on. It was a small, but reassuring creature comfort that he hadn't felt in many long years.

He sighed, in spite of his wanting not to disturb Obi-Wan, and quite unconsciously at the thought. With that, Obi-Wan turned to face him.

"I knew you were awake. So what do you think of my grand quarters here?"

…

Worlds away, at the small kitchen table in front of the fire Aurren Farr sat awake. She simply had not been able to sleep in the 2 days that Lord Vader had been away, and when she was able to, she was harassed with horrible dreams. Aurren had not done much in those two days.

The first, after finding the note on the counter, seemed to pass as if she were in a daze. She looked over her work but found nothing she could continue on. She hated doing anything twice, so why change something if it were to not please her Lord. That night she spent tossing and turning, sleeping lightly and having dreams filled with cuts and bruises and other sorts of abuse.

This morning, she rose from bed and dressed earlier than she had since she had been here. She rushed out to the hangar to see if Vader had returned, and found herself saddened at his continued absence. She spent the day wandering her way once again through the massive house, randomly encountering strange droids performing random cleaning tasks.

Dinner appeared as it normally did, as if from out of no where. She decided to have some fun and raided her lush wardrobe for a decadent gown and dressed as if she were eating with a king, draped in jewels and fine soft fabrics.

And now she sat. Still gussied up from her pretend lavish meal. She played unconsciously with one long curl that hung over her bare shoulder then ran those fingers over the jewels hanging over her clavicle. It wasn't the first time she had ever sat alone. She spent much of her time alone. She was always alone. Now she was feeling something much rarer to her than just being by herself. She felt alone.

Perhaps she missed Lord Vader, and the way they could talk about things the way they did, and how sometimes they could talk without saying anything at all. Maybe she missed that.