Eternity
By: Hotncold93
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst, character death, and sort-of language (does it count if it's SW cursing?)
A/N: So this is an AU one-shot set in RotJ. I know it doesn't really happen like this, but if I was George Lucas (which I am definitely not—hey, disclaimer!) this is how it would end. Even though I hate the thought of my beautiful Ani being in an ugly metal suit. Oh, and sorry Han fans, he only shows up for like a sentence. I know, I love him too, but he just didn't fit in much.
1
His metal hands trembled, but his eyes were steady. Shaking breaths wracked his fragile frame, but this didn't bother him. He knew that soon, very soon, he would have no need for the dark mask he hid behind. He would soon do away with the bulky metal suit that stood between him and an eternity with the Force. The Force, that meant so many things to so many people. However, he was different. Special. He scoffed at the word now. His relationship with the Force was certainly unique. For everyone else in the galaxy, the Force was an enigma. Most didn't even believe in its existence, but those that did worshipped it. When he was young, in his arrogance, he'd believed that they should have worshipped him. After all, the Force was his father. He supposed that most beings might find it odd, unimaginable, even. To not have a father was something that no other being in the galaxy could lay claim to. Anakin, however, did not think much of it. Sure, his remarkable Force-sensitivity was due to his singular relationship with the energy of all living beings. But he'd never really thought about what it might have been like to have been born without his powers, if you could even call them that. The Force was a part of him that was woven so closely with his mind and heart, that it would be impossible to untangle him from it. However, the empty space that should have been filled by a father was what was troubling him now.
I am your father, Luke. Five simple words, none of them exceeding six letters in size, now seemed to define him. Everything he was, everything he'd been in his admittedly short life had boiled down to that sentence. That was the only reality that mattered to him anymore. The howling pain that had seized his son as he realized that his father was a monster ripped holes in Anakin's chest that he'd never wanted to feel again. Anakin. One of the only things that remained of his former life was his name, and so few even equated that name with the monster in the metal suit now that even that seemed to be a tenuous grip to the man he'd been. In fact, he hadn't even referred to himself as Anakin for years. But he found that it was easier now, now that he had a plan.
He didn't think he would ever be able to atone for his sins. Not even if he lived a thousand lifetimes could he undo all the damage he'd done. The shame and guilt tore through him, but he remained upright. He knew he could never undo what had been done, but he hoped—a feeble, foolish hope—that if he could somehow save his son, if he could fulfill the prophecy, he might be redeemed.
Anakin gazed at the window of his room, watching a red ray of sunshine as it crept across his floor.
2
Luke wiped the sweat from his brow with manacled hands. The precise steps of the stormtroopers pounded into his skull mercilessly as he was lost in a sea of white.
The transport slid gracefully into the docking bay of the hulking Death Star. Hands covered in smooth armor grabbed his arms and pulled him down the gray ramp and into the belly of the monster. Monster. This thing, this harbinger of death, surely was monstrous. But, it was not a monster. It had been created to do terrible things. Its creator planned to commit terrible atrocities. But it was not the frail, crippled form of the Emperor that came to mind when Luke thought about monsters. Instead, a terrifying black mask dominated his mind's eye.
Could a monster ever be human? His father had been human once. Luke had seen the vestiges of love in Obi-Wan's eyes when he spoke of Anakin Skywalker. But that love turned to anger, sadness, and regret when the conversation moved to the topic of Darth Vader. Luke knew that Vader had committed terrible atrocities. But he also knew that somewhere, deep down, Anakin still lived. And as long as Anakin lived, Luke had to believe that the monster could be defeated. He had no other choice.
3
Anakin gazed at the vacuum of space pensively. He'd flown to the Death Star as soon as his Master called him, though he didn't plan on calling the disgusting son of a Hutt his master again after this day. He felt more peaceful than he had in a long time, though his stomach was filled with knots. Luke was on the Death Star, he could feel it. He could also feel his son's surprise as he felt his father's aura, which was no longer cloaked in darkness. However Anakin put his shields up the second he felt Palpatine's presence. It wouldn't do to have the Emperor figure out his plan before he could implement it.
The throne room was decorated all in black. The only lights came from the pinpoints of stars that shone through the great window to Anakin's back. Luke stared up at him incredulously, though he tried to hide it. Anakin almost rolled his eyes—something he hadn't done in twenty-two years. His son was practically projecting his hope and confusion to everyone in the room. Anakin hoped that Palpatine mistook it for a vain wish to turn his father and let it be.
"So, young Skywalker, you have come to visit us," said the Emperor, his oily voice smoothly enveloping the room. "Just as I predicted." His obvious satisfaction was making Luke's blood boil. Anakin silently willed his son to be calm. Palpatine merely smiled.
"You have come to free your father from the clutches of the Dark Side, undoubtedly. Such a pity, then, that he is so devoted to the Empire. To me." Palpatine shadowed Luke slowly, like a predator that feared to frighten his prey. "However, all hope is not lost for you, young Luke. You see, I once knew a man with a rebellious streak. He was constantly in trouble. But I took him under my wing and, like a black flower, he grew into the most perfect weapon the galaxy has ever seen. Think of all you could do, Luke." His voice rose, almost imperceptibly, and a spark lit his inhuman yellow eyes. "You could travel the galaxy, bringing peace and security to the people of the Empire. You would be free to go where you wish, of course, and all I ask is your loyalty. You will find, young one, that I can be quite a forgiving master. I want only for the fighting to end. I do not wish to hurt you, or your family, Luke. Join me, and you will bring peace to the galaxy. Join me, and you will never again have to hide. Join me, and every man, woman, and child in the galaxy will praise your name. Join me, and you can travel the galaxy with your father." He finished with a smile, knowing that he'd won.
The look on Luke's face was enough. The gleam in his eyes, the set in his mouth; they betrayed his thoughts. With a sinking certainty, Anakin knew that the Emperor had snared his son completely. Anakin prepared himself, but just as he was about to act, Luke shook his head, as though to clear it. A spike of anger gripped him, only to be swept away by the Force. Anakin was silently impressed.
"I will never join you, Darth Sidious. My allegiance is to the Republic, not to an Empire. I will not be swayed by pretty words and false promises. I am a Jedi, like my father before me, and I will never succumb to your madness," spit Luke. Anakin's heart swelled, just a tiny bit, as he realized that his son was a better man than he could hope to be. He never knew that such a giant wave of pride could consume him so easily.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, and his once smooth voice became rough and coarse. "Have it your way, then," he growled. "Lord Vader," he said sharply. "Kill him." His voice was filled with a dark satisfaction that made Anakin feel slightly nauseous. He'd never been sick in the Vader suit, but in that moment, he felt like he just might find out what that would be like.
"No, Master. I will not kill my son." His mechanical voice boomed through the room, bouncing off every smooth black wall with a deadly certainty. Palpatine's eyes widened, and his poisonous yellow Force-signature practically trembled with rage.
"You dare defy me?" He asked, his features deathly calm.
"You asked me once whether or not I was truly loyal to the Empire above all else. I lied. My allegiance lies with my children. My family. Not even you can take that away from me, though you surely tried." The words sounded calmer than he really felt, the respirator erasing any traces of fear or nervousness. His mask protected him, in more ways than one. His lightsaber activated with a snap-hiss, its crimson glow brightly illuminating the dark room. Palpatine's rage grew, until Anakin thought that the Emperor might burst from the effort of trying to hold it inside of his being. An identical scarlet blade sprang to life at the Emperor's side.
4
Luke was still reeling. His brain was sluggish and unresponsive, though he felt a vague warning tugging at the back of his mind. There was something he should've been doing, but he couldn't seem to get past the great heavy wall that had fallen on his mind in perfect time with his father's words. My allegiance lies with my children. I am your father, Luke. Family. Everything hinged on those words. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to believe them, in case they turned out to be figments of his imagination. He didn't think he could handle being crushed like that.
His musings were cut short by the light of a red blade swinging dangerously close to his face. The world snapped into focus with a sudden, painful clarity. He could see blurs of red, moving faster than his eye could follow, as they cut deadly arcs and met with a hiss. On either side of the flashing blades were two men: one a man and one a monster. The bitter irony wasn't lost on Luke. After all, it wasn't the frail old man that was human. It was the hulking giant in the black metal suit. The man that was his father. Luke was startled to find a wave of love flowing upwards through him as he watched the former friends, now a Master and his slave, as they fought to the death.
As he watched the duel, Luke felt every cell in his body ache to help his father. He could picture the elegant blue blade meeting the harsh red ones, as he fought alongside the man that had given him life. But he could not. A small voice in the back of his mind, a voice that he was disliking more and more as each second ticked on, warned him not to intervene. This is not your fight, Luke. He must do this alone. It is his destiny. Luke wanted to cry out that there was no such thing as destiny, only the here and now. But deep in his heart, he knew it was true.
Luke gazed on as his father's parries became more and more labored. They were both tiring, though Vader—Anakin—had the suit to help him. However, in this case, the suit was a hindrance, making his father's reactions more sluggish than they might be otherwise. Luke's heart began to sink as a terrible thought wrestled its way into his brain. Anakin was going to die. Even if he defeated the Emperor, what was left for him? Leia hated him, Luke knew that. He could accept that. After all, Vader had been the cause of the destruction of her entire planet. That was not something that could be easily forgotten. Besides, Leia had once had a family; she didn't need a father like Luke did. He also doubted whether she would ever be able to separate Anakin Skywalker from Darth Vader. To her, they might as well be the same thing. In fact, everyone in the galaxy would probably share that view.
Luke's heart gave a stuttered, shocked beat as he watched the lightsaber fall to the ground. He watched as the Emperor advanced on his father, preparing to deal the final blow. But instead of cringing away, Anakin jumped toward him. Luke's breath caught in his throat as he realized: the Emperor was standing right in front of a deep, dark hole.
In. Out. In. Out. In—
His heart stopped.
Time slowed and each second dragged on like an eternity.
Luke's bright blue eyes—his father's eyes—watched in horror as the figures were swallowed by the darkness, their identical black cloaks making each indistinguishable from the other as they fell.
5
Luke wasn't sure how long it took him to get to the ship—seconds, minutes, days. It didn't seem to be of any importance. His brain kept stinging, as though its neurological pathways were short-circuiting. The images his eyes were capturing seemed fuzzy and blurred, as though he was looking at a recording. Nothing felt real or tangible, except the controls that seemed to materialize underneath his fingers.
Later on, he would wonder how he made it to the ship. At the moment, though, he wasn't thinking at all. His every movement seemed robotic, pre-programmed, as he coaxed the ship onto the soil of the Endor moon. His feet clunked down the slate-colored ramp and met soft ground. He looked up into the sky just in time to see the Death Star dissolve into fragments of burning rubble, destined to careen through space for eternity. Somewhere in that rubble was his father. Luke's eyes stung at the thought.
He walked through the forest slowly, brushing low branches out of his way. Soon he saw a glimmering light ahead of him. He should've been relieved, as it was almost dark, but somehow he just felt hollow. He entered the camp and saw the Ewoks dancing around a fire and singing, their furry faces lit with joy. He spied Leia and Han quickly—they were dancing together, both of them about twice as tall as their furry friends. Leia's thick, dark hair swung in a graceful arc as she turned to him.
Her eyes sparkled with happiness, but they were shocked and pitiful when they looked upon him. He knew that she could feel his emotions through the Force, but he tried to smile anyways. She walked towards him purposefully and enveloped him in a tight, warm embrace.
"It'll be okay," she whispered into his ear. "Everything will be fine." Luke almost smiled at that—Leia was probably the only person he knew who was stubborn enough to change the will of the galaxy merely because she wanted it to. She sounded determined, and Luke knew that she would stop at nothing until everything was fine. His smile grew.
She let him go and stared into his face intently, looking for something. She was mildly satisfied as she looked away from him, but her eyes widened as she spied something behind him. Luke whirled around, expecting stormtroopers, and felt his heart stop for what seemed like the millionth time that day when he found himself face to face with his father.
But it wasn't. It was Anakin Skywalker, young, handsome, and happy—though sheepish. It wasn't the man in the suit. There were no traces of Vader in him. Luke broke into a wide grin. But the surprise wasn't over. Another figure materialized next to him—Obi-Wan. His hair, though, was a warm red and his face was unlined. He smiled widely at Luke, whose own smile became wider in response. His father's eyes shifted to the empty space beside him, where a third figure emerged. She was regal, and extremely beautiful. Her warm brown eyes lit up when she saw her children and her thick, curly hair shone in the firelight. Luke felt warm tears slide down his face in awe and happiness. It was his mother.
His father glanced down at his wife, every inch of his face betraying the immense love he obviously felt for her. In response, she leaned into him happily, wiping her own tears with the back of her hand. Luke glanced down at Leia, who was staring at her mother with wonderment and love, and he held her close to him. When he looked up again, they were gone.
End.
A/N: Sorry for the lame title! I couldn't think of anything else. :(I have been bitten by the Star Wars bug. ;) It's gotten a hold of me and it won't let go! I was writing another SW fic (which may or may not be posted soon, as I my history of updating is dubious at best), but hopefully it will be up sometime within this millennium. :D It's an A/P fic, with a twist. I've seen time-travel stories (which I love) and I've seen a couple where Anakin isn't a Jedi. I honestly can't abide those, because in my mind, Anakin MUST be a Jedi. It's like having a peanut-butter sandwich without the jelly, only far more unsatisfying. Haha. So instead, I've decided to write a fic where Padme is never the queen of Naboo. We'll see how it goes :) Anyways, REVIEW! I will reply and tell you how much I love you. Unless you're mean, in which case I will probably just laugh, 'cause I'm evil :P