CHAPTER SUMMARY: Father and son have a much-needed talk and make decisions that will change the fate of the galaxy.

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The realization that Luke had been able to communicate directly with Sith must have jarred him more than he had thought. After two sleepless nights, Anakin Skywalker remained disturbed the following evening. Obviously he'd cancelled his next rendezvous with Elisa; it was more important that he talk to his son and discover exactly what happened. Luke, however, was not being particularly receptive to his overtures.

Anakin cleared his throat. "You're very quiet," he repeated.

Luke didn't lift his gaze from the fireplace. He'd been sitting on the floor with the same unreadable expression locked on his face for the better part of ten minutes. "I have a lot to think about."

"Would you care to talk?"

The look his son gave him was bland. "What? And spoil your evening?"

It was extremely rare for anyone to so firmly shut a door in his face. He had to restrain himself from shifting uncomfortably in his chair. This son of his was, as Alin reminded, quite a handful. No naive, malleable infant this-though not as strong and independent as he liked to think either. A few gentle words from his father, and Luke would relent.

Still, this was the child who passed his Trial by slaying the father who Tempted him. Perhaps he should tread cautiously.

Anakin leaned his head against the tall back of the sofa. He didn't approve of his blooming animosity towards his son and was at a loss to explain what had triggered it. The incident at the treecave had disturbed him deeply; perhaps that, coupled with his son's new relationship with Sith was what made him wary of the boy. He'd had such hopes for them, so many plans, and now they could all fall apart. He opened his eyes and found Luke watching him.

"I apologize for my behavior last night," the elder Skywalker said formally. "I cherish your curiosity and your ideas. I am feeling stressed, though that is no excuse for my behavior."

Luke shrugged again, but the reproachful attitude began to recede. "Why are you stressed?"

"Sith. Too much perfection. Too stifling. I want to get away. The same things you have felt."

The clear eyes flicked toward at him. "Sometimes I feel like I could stay here forever."

He felt a pang of jealousy. What had his son found? "I envy you," he said honestly. "I have never reached the level of oneness with Sith that you seem to have found."

With a small nod, Luke turned away and refocused his gaze on the fire again. Anakin frowned. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. From here he could nearly touch the boy. "Do you enjoy politics?" he asked abruptly.

There was an element of surprise in the eyes that fixed on him. "I've never been involved in it."

"You will be, after we have defeated Palpatine."

"After we destroy him, I am returning here." There was no threat in the quiet declaration; it rang with the certainty of truth. Luke turned away again.

He shook his head. "Not permanently, I hope."

"Permanently."

He wanted to douse the damn fire if that would liberate the child's gaze. "I will need your assistance to restructure the Empire."

"No, you won't. You'll manage fine on your own."

For a moment he had the illusion that their roles were reversed, that he was the child and Luke the stern father. Was this why Luke became irritated with him? Because he had to fight for attention, beg for approval? They were not pleasant feelings.

"I enjoy the excitement of politics, the intrigues and plots, but I especially enjoy seeing the fruits of my labors, the reforms and successes that make the work worthwhile."

Luke pulled his legs around and faced him. "Have you had many successes with Palpatine in control?"

"Very few." He was pleased to have recaptured the youngster's notice. "The constitutional amendments on Rigis were my work, as were several other one-world reforms. My greatest failure was the move for independent agriculturalists. I disagreed with the Imperial plan to eliminate private farms and place them all under the Empire's ownership. Very non-productive. But Palpatine would not listen."

"Uncle Owen was worried about that. He said the Empire would get to Tatooine eventually. I didn't believe they would take such a small farm."

"They would. A dozen small farms combine to make a decent mid-size one. When Sith rules, I will repeal that edict. There are many reforms I wish to make. I need your help. I can't do it alone."

Luke stood and stretched his arms, yawning widely. He shook his head as if trying to wake himself. Then he joined his father on the sofa, a deceptively casual move which indicated that the recent friction was forgiven. "You disagree with Palpatine in a lot of areas."

"Yes."

"I understand why you stayed with him," Luke said slowly, "but how could you do it for so many years? I would have been driven mad or lost control or-something."

He smiled. "I have wished many times that I could slaughter the little weasel," he admitted easily.

Luke snickered. "Then you must be looking forward to the future with anticipation."

"Yes." He rubbed his hand against his forehead, massaging away the beginnings of a headache. "Even now, here on Sith, he communicates with me constantly."

"Telepathically?"

Anakin nodded. "More plans, more obscene ideas. I am so weary." He was surprised he'd said that last; it wasn't something he'd planned on confessing. Would Luke understand that this weariness went to the very depths of his soul?

Cool fingers brushed his face, traveled across his brow. He felt the muscles relax immediately and wondered if Luke had a dash of Healer in him. Given the extent of his powers, it seemed of reasonable likelihood.

"You need my support," Luke said, half-questioning. "You need me to believe in what you plan to do. You need me as an antidote for Palpatine's all-encompassing control."

"All that is true." He rested his hand on his son's forearm. "I would be grateful for whatever assistance you wish to offer."

Luke made a small sound and bowed his head. "Since we've been together, I haven't given any thought to what you need from me. I've only thought about myself. That doesn't make me a very good son."

"You have the example of a poor father," he replied, only partly joking.

But Luke's eyes were serious. "You're a wonderful father," he contradicted. "I know you think you've disappointed me, but you haven't. I'm proud to be your son."

What a brilliant young man Luke had proven to be. Anakin smiled with pleasure. "I wish I could believe it."

"Believe it."

"Very well. And I will tell you something to believe." He squeezed Luke's arm. "No matter what happens, no matter that I lose my infamous temper, no matter what unforgivable words I may say to you-know that I love you, and I always will."

Luke stopped breathing for a moment, then inhaled sharply. He freed himself and shrank back against the opposite end of the sofa. He stared at Anakin. "I...no one has ever said that to me."

"I expect not."

The response startled his son. "What's- Never mind. But you and I, we said it in the cave."

He felt a chill creep through him. Luke held protected in his mind the events that had transpired in the treecave; he had not shared them in detail. Would his psychic Temptation become an actuality? Would Luke's final decision be whether to kill his father, either literally or symbolically? He touched Luke's hidden senses and was allowed entry. There he read the same fear.

"I don't know," he replied to the unasked question. "But I do know that we can't let Fear control our words and our lives."

Luke nodded. "If it's in my heart, what difference does it make if I say it aloud? I love you, Father. I loved the idea of you all my life. Now I love the reality."

"You used to give such simple answers," he teased, made nervous by his son's gravity.

"I remember." There was a touch of wistfulness in the tone. "I don't want to rule the galaxy. I don't want you to rule it either. The Alliance leaders have the right ideas and-"

He shook his head, weary of the familiar arguments. "The galaxy cannot be ruled by a coalition. Nothing would ever be accomplished. Look at the way the Old Republic decayed. No, it will take one strong individual with, as you say, the 'right ideas' to repair the damage that has already been done. It is a huge task, Luke, and will require single-mindedness. A democracy would lead to confusion and dissention. Don't you see the futility of your desires?"

"I see it, Father. I'm not stupid."

Anakin smiled to himself. It was about time that Luke realized that and put aside Owen Lars's criticisms of his intelligence. "Then I don't understand your reservations."

"My reservations are about you. And me. About two power-hungry Skywalkers." Luke gave a deprecating shrug. "You want power. You glory in it. I don't think I want it, but I know myself well enough now to realize that I could be swept into it very easily."

"Power is seductive," he agreed.

"Power is temptation. And I don't understand how what you're offering now differs from what I rejected in the cave." His son's eyes filled with grief. "I killed you in the cave, and I don't believe that my Temptation was a foreseeing."

"I don't want that either," he replied sharply.

"Then we'll have to compromise."

It was not his favorite word; still, Anakin nodded. "You have a plan?"

"I think so. But it will rely totally on trust and good intentions."

"On whose part?"

"On our parts." Luke smiled crookedly. "I do agree about the inefficiency of a democracy, but I don't want to continue the monarchy either. If you insist I participate, how about an oligarchy? Me, you, and a few well-chosen others."

"Chosen by?"

"Us, of course." The grin spread across Luke's face. "Like I said, I'm not stupid."

Anakin laughed. "So, son of mine, let me summarize your plan. You wish us to rule with the help of a few advisors." A benevolent monarchy held much more appeal than an oligarchy. And advisors were so simple to dismiss or ignore.

"Sounds possible." The blue eyes twinkled with playfulness.

He clasped his son's shoulder. "I'm glad to know that you don't have the heart of a liberal. Such a characteristic would be distinctly un-Skywalker."

"Yeah." Luke's demeanor sobered. "All the things I'm learning about Sith-I thought it meant you were a god when you were Home. And that I'd be a god, too."

"Ah, yes. There is some validity in that assumption." He considered his words. "We are humans-chosen ones, but humans nonetheless, and we can make mistakes. You may think of yourself as infallible, but you are not. Remember that. And because you have special powers, you must heed these things you are already discovering: Be cautious with people of whom you are fond. You may end up ruining them to save yourself. Choose your friends wisely and sparingly. Always maintain an emotional distance. The same applies with your bondmate. Only your Lightshiner is truly safe with you. The power that is drawn to you and the attractiveness of wielding that power can prove fatal to others. You have seen examples of this with what happened to your guardians and young Darklighter."

"What about you?" There was the faintest tremble in Luke's voice. "Are we safe from each other?"

"If we are vigilant."

"But- In Cloud City, before you told me who you were-you didn't want to hurt me. You could have defeated me easily, you could have killed me-but you didn't even fight. You only defended yourself. Surely that means-"

"That means we can control our actions and our tendencies to commit violence," Anakin said firmly. "I controlled mine until you struck me with your blade. Then I lost my temper and deliberately severed your hand for two reasons: to prevent you from fighting further and increasing my aggressive instincts, and to satisfy my lust to spill your blood."

"And I killed you in the treecave." Luke stared at him, probing his thoughts. "This violence-it's why you took the name Vader," he murmured in sudden recognition. "The Emperor didn't name you. Vader is your...Darkness."

"Yes."

Luke's brow furrowed in concentration. "You said Palpatine harnessed the long-dormant Darkside on Sith. Did you mean...through you?"

"Yes."

"Does Palpatine know about me?"

"Not yet."

"But when he does, he'll want to use me."

"Yes. We need to act soon."

The indrawn sigh was long and shaky. "If Skywalkers are Sith-"

"Skywalkers are part of Sith."

"Part of the Darkside."

He inclined his head. "In a way. Do you remember what we discussed back at your rebel base? About good and evil, and not being totally one or the other? And what you told your Alliance Council-that Dark makes the Light brighter?"

Luke nodded. "But if we're Dark, why aren't we lost in it? Why aren't we totally evil? What prevents us-" His eyes glazed momentarily. "Lightshiners?"

"Lightshiners and our sheer stubbornness." He smiled with pride. His son was so quick.

"But if I represent Darkness, why does Sith like me? Why did it let me...join with it?"

"You have answered your own question." He felt a sudden flush of excitement. "To be contained, the Darkness must be rejoined with Sith. I took it away. You will bring it back. You were chosen. Perhaps that's why you were raised away from my influence."

"So my life isn't mine? Nothing I do, none of the decisions I make-have they all been manipulated by Sith?" The boy's voice cracked.

"Not manipulated. It is your destiny, my son. You are meant for greatness."

Anakin watched in fascination as first disgust crossed Luke's face, then understanding, then something akin to pleasure. "Hmm," he murmured noncommittally.

Skywalker leaned against the sofa arm. "So we will return to the galaxy, defeat Palpatine, and rule as Skywalker father and son. I must say I'm looking forward to it."

"Oops," Luke said quietly.

"Oops?" he repeated warily.

"I told my friends about you. About Vader. That he's-you're-Anakin Skywalker, my father."

"You shouldn't have done that." But it was a small matter really. "You'll have to repair that damage when you return to them. Alter their memories."

"Yes," Luke acknowledged, his soft voice filled with regret. "Everything has changed so much."

Anakin knew he was no longer speaking of his friends. "I am sorry."

"You can't change facts. Ruling the galaxy." The youngster sighed wearily, a blatant admission that this particular greatness was the last thing he wanted. "You're tired," Luke added suddenly, pointing out something that he hadn't realized himself. "Why don't you go to bed? We can talk more tomorrow. Or the next day or the day after that. Without free will, it doesn't matter what or when or even if we talk about anything, does it?"

"You'll feel differently in the morning," he replied without conviction. "You need sleep, too. You've had a difficult few days."

"I'm fine. I'll just sit here awhile if you don't mind." The gaze fixed on the fire again.

"I'd like that." There was some comfort in knowing his son would protect his sleep-protect it from what was unclear. But after Anakin undressed and slid between the sheets of the huge bed, he lifted his eyes for a moment toward the sofa at the far end of the room. The sight of the blond head silhouetted by the fire was reassuring. It took only a few minutes before he fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke much later, fully refreshed, it was still hours until dawn. He rose to check on his son. Luke was balanced precariously on the edge of the sofa, sound asleep. Smiling, he lifted the boy and carried him to the bed where he laid him on sheets that were still warm from his own body. He pulled the thick comforter over the youngster's shoulders.

In repose, Luke's face was peaceful and relaxed, a way he rarely saw it when the boy was awake. There was something disturbingly familiar about the child's features. The resemblance to himself had grown stronger, but there was more. It reminded him of someone… someone who had been important to him. But that was impossible. Luke's age was wrong, and she had— No, it was only his wistful imaginings.

He took up a post in the overstuffed chair and watched the boy sleep. As Luke had guarded him, so would he guard his son from whatever terrors waited in the rest of the night.