A/N Inspired by Libby_25cSoda on the Father-Son Bonding Time discord server. She's a genius and y'all should go read her fics.
Rock Climbing, Water Sports, and Other Such Things of Both Personal and Galactic Significance
It began with a chase and it ended at the foot of a small cliff.
He was in unfamiliar territory, on an unfamiliar planet, relying on instinct, his own quick wit, and the Force to get him out of the mess that he'd found himself in. Through some stroke of bad luck and misfortune which he was hesitantly deciding must be hereditary in some fashion or another, Luke had gotten separated from his own small group and in his wandering effort to find them again on a planet that fairly teemed with life, managed to wander straight into an Imperial camp.
Luke didn't know who had been more surprised; him or the Imps. But there had been a five or six second period where they had done nothing except stare at each other in startled disbelief. Luke was a lone person but his face was rather famous at this point in time and he had accumulated a rather impressive list of crimes against the Empire that had some people scratching their heads whispering concerns about what the hell was happening on Tatooine to produce people like Luke Skywalker. But more surprising than the stare down between Luke and about fifteen armed soldiers, was when Luke had felt his father's Force signature stir in the back of his mind. Since it had appeared on Cloud City, he'd kept the connection closed down as tight as he could over the last few months and did his best to ignore it on the daily so that he would not accidentally reveal his location or any significant details about the Rebellion or her activities.
He was therefore wholly unprepared and startled to realize that Vader was actually close by.
Really close.
Like, somewhere in the general vicinity, within a half mile radius close.
The shock of the realization startled him something fierce and he made a rather embarrassing "oop!" sound just before he flicked his hand in a sharp gesture and quickly sent the Imps flying backwards before high tailing it the hell out of there and running into the surrounding forest like the wrath of the Desert was coming his way. Han would have said something terribly strange, like "I think we oughta make like a tree and leave, kid." before doing something very unexpected like some form of justified murder and then running for the Falcon in a way that still made him look cool.
Trees didn't go anywhere on their own as far as Luke personally knew, but he ran just the same.
From there, the chase had commenced.
Startling the Imperials had given him a little bit of a head start, but the sound of speeder bikes racing after him politely informed him that his head start would not be good for very long unless he kept them off his trail.
Luke was from a relatively flat world, one that had few, if any obstacles lying around to get in his way. He'd grown relatively accustomed to trees and grass and rocks and other such things throughout his stint with the Rebellion and was pleased at how well he could use it all to his advantage. The Force was a rather neat trick too and the first few Imperials to come up close to him quickly experienced engine combustion or otherwise fell off or were summarily shot.
Like bulls eyeing a womp rat, he thought grimly before taking off once again.
He heard the shout of men somewhere behind him but feels a new hesitation in the Force from several different sources. None of them are in the mood to die today; but it's not really them that Luke needs to lose.
It's Vader.
He can feel him in the back of his mind, their close proximity rendering his protective shields almost null. There is a focused intent from the other side of their bond that makes him shiver in uncertain anticipation. He spreads his Force presence thin, hoping that it might offer some confusion as to where he truly is and keeps going.
Two or three minutes later, the Force whispered to go left and so Luke turned, running in the general direction that had been suggested until he came across a small stream of water. He paused, panting but remembering that water was a good way to hide one's tracks. He stepped into the steam and after waiting another few seconds for some sign of where to go, started jogging upstream, the water splashing around his boots and getting the bottom part of his pants wet.
There a small bit of an incline that makes his lungs burn - altitude changes is another thing that he's still adapting too, though Dagobah and Master Yoda did a lot to get him into better shape. But he is so focused on his breathing that he doesn't realize that he's running into a gorge, until, a quarter of a standard mile later, it all comes to an end.
A decent sized pool of water and a high cliff with a small bit of water coming over the top stands in front of him now, stopping him in his tracks. Glancing around, Luke realizes that two steep walls are on either side of him as well. It is a dead end and without ever realizing it, he had effectively trapped himself in a corner.
His father is somewhere behind him and Luke can practically feel his mental eyes tracking Luke's location. He's getting closer. Going backward would be a mistake.
Pursing his lips, he eyes the cliff wall in front of him. It's rocky, with leafy green plants sprouting from some cracks in the wall and dangling gracefully, dripping with little beads of water.
There wasn't that much to climb in the Desert; however, Beggar's Canyon was something of a staple landmark to the native population and it wasn't just good for racing in.
Luke had scaled the wall in Beggar's Canyon plenty of times throughout his teenage years, mostly because he'd been told not to. He knew how to climb a wall and seeing as it was towering over him on three sides and retreat was inadvisable, going up and over the top was the quickest route of escape. He glanced over his shoulders, sensing that his father was definitely closing in on him, and quickly ditched his bag, keeping only his lightsaber on his person.
If he did it fast, he could still put a fair bit of distance between himself and capture. The wall isn't even particularly high. Not in comparison to Beggar's Canyon, at least. It should be doable.
Rubbing his hands together, Luke searches for a few handholds to grab onto and then starts to climb.
He had thought that he would be able to scurry his way up no problem like he'd done on Tatooine but within the first thirty or forty seconds, quickly and painfully realized that that wasn't going to be the case.
As it turns out, climbing a rock wall that was dry is significantly different and far easier than trying to climb one that is wet.
Of all the ways that water could possibly betray him, this has to be the worst. Everything was wet and it was so damn slippery. Everything, even the rocks, with all their possible handholds and step-ups, were unreliable and dangerous and were it not for his fake hand being far stronger than his flesh one, he probably wouldn't have gotten up very far at all. It held on better than his flesh hand could and gave him enough time to figure out where his other hand and feet could go.
It was slow, strenuous progress.
He was only halfway up, arms shaking and cursing up a storm when the familiar, repetitive sound of his father's respirator finally reached his ears. And to his utter mortification, the cool intent of their chase gave way almost immediately to amusement.
Luke clung tightly to his handhold, gripping it with all the strength he possessed in his fingers so that he didn't slip and briefly closed his eyes, letting his forehead touch the cool wall for only a second or two before continuing his laborious climb. If his father wanted him, he was going to have to knock him down, or else come up and get him himself.
In a moment of pure vexation, he let the childish thought flow freely between them for the first time, just to see what would happen.
The mental equivalent of an eyebrow raising passed between them.
"I do not believe that will be necessary." Vader spoke for the first time
Luke deliberately ignored him; he needed to focus and there was another handhold for him on the left, just above him. It would be a stretch and he eyed it cautiously, wondering if he could make it. He couldn't help but think once again that if everything was dry, it would be easy! But this rock wall was not dry and apparently that changed everything.
Water was stupid, Luke decided with an angry huff. He liked it but he hated it in equal measure because it didn't make any sense and all he had to do... was just... climb the damn wall; and if he couldn't get the next little ledge, then he was stuck. Going down wasn't an option and as it was, it would probably be more perilous than going up.
He felt more than saw his father observing his next move and, "I would not risk it, my son. A three-point hold is the recommended method for scaling walls."
"I didn't ask for your advice and for your information, I've climbed plenty of walls!" Luke snapped at him, flushing in embarrassment. He dared to glance over his shoulder and peer down at his father below. "I know what I'm doing."
The man was definitely amused and he stood like a dark wraith of power, dangerous and formidable in every sense of the word. Luke had dueled him several times now and knew through his own experience how deadly he was. Their last encounter was warning enough that Luke being his son did not exempt him from that danger and it made his spine tingle to be so openly stared at by him. His father slowly tucked his thumbs into his belt and just watched, making no move to follow. "I doubt you have had much opportunity in the area of aquatic sportsmanship." Vader pointed out.
Luke shifted his left foot a little and felt how willing it was to slip. "It's not that much water," he said sourly, wishing he believed his own words. He only had the one foot hold but if he was quick… then it wouldn't matter. His fake hand would keep its grip, though it would be an awkward twist to get up there -
"I would not do that if I were you," Vader warned again.
"Oh, kriff you," Luke hissed quietly, perfectly confident that his father would hear him. He did and rather than getting angry, his amusement only became even more apparent. His mood was so different from anything Luke had experienced from him yet - he had no idea what to do or how to react to a Darth Vader that wasn't actively murderous.
Steeling himself and taking a quick breath, Luke let go and reached up for the next handhold - the strange, weightless feeling of lunging upwards was quickly forgotten the moment that his fingers snagged the edge - there was just enough space for them to hang on reasonably well, or… well, there would have been except the rock was wet like the others but it was also slimy with something else as well -
He slipped, dropping back down to where he had been, both feet losing their purchase entirely until he was dangling like a moron by one hand - and he might have slipped further or fallen entirely except in his panic, the Force seemed to slow everything down for just a few seconds and he saw and managed to grab onto another spot on the wall with his other one, saving himself.
There was sweat dripping down his temples now as he desperately tried to put his feet somewhere. The muscles in his arms and back strained as he held himself up with just his fingertips until finally - finally - the toe of his right boot found a small little ledge and stayed there.
Hugging the wall, heart pounding a frantic beat, Luke tried to catch his breath in between cursing water and all of its evil qualities to the nine hells.
"What, exactly, has water done to warrant such passionate and negative depth of feeling from you?" Vader asked curiously.
It was an unexpected question; but then, he hadn't expected to be having any kind of conversation with his father today. And despite both of them trying to kill each other in the past... there was now a very strange sense of familiarity between them that confused him even further. Was it supposed to be this easy?
"Water doesn't - make - any sense at all!" Luke blew out, successfully getting just a little bit higher. "It is supposed to keep people alive, not kill you!"
"You will find that most things in this galaxy will kill you if given the opportunity." Vader said with a parental sort of knowingness.
Luke rolled his eyes. "You would say that, wouldn't you? Join me or die, and all." he shot at him impatiently.
"Would you prefer that I lie to you?" Vader asked, ignoring the jab.
"I'd prefer it if you would just go away and let me do this."
"Not likely." His father said smoothly. There was a slight splashing sound and he dared to look down once again and saw his father walking closer to the wall. He seemed to be quite a ways down but even the height that Luke was currently at did nothing to hide how damn tall he was.
A shame that he didn't inherit some of those genetics. Being taller would be exceptionally helpful right about now. He wouldn't have to stretch so kriffing far - in the blink of an eye, something happened, so quickly that Luke barely had time to realize that he missed his next handhold yet again until he was swinging into the face of the cliff faster than was advisable.
He hit his head. Nay - he smacked his head - hard enough that his vision blurred and he saw stars for several very long seconds. Pure instinct alone kept him from immediately falling backwards but it was a very near thing.
Luke gripped his handholds with the tips of his fingers as tight as he could and closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain. His fingers were torn to shreds on his real hand at this point and every inch of him was starting to feel sore. Everything had gone from bad to worse in a very short span of time.
Why did the Force send him to a dead end?
It wasn't fair.
And it didn't make sense - it was supposed to be his ally, not feed him into the hands of his enemy-turned-father.
"You alright?" Vader asked lightly, poking him in the Force when he'd been still for a little too long.
"No," Luke hissed at him, feeling a small trickle of blood slide down the middle of his face. He pressed his forehead into his forearm for a moment, trying in vain to staunch it.
"I told you to be careful."
Why did he sound like Uncle Owen right now? How the hell was that fair? This man hadn't raised him - he hadn't changed his diapers or reemed him out for skipping out on his chores, or sent him to his room whenever he'd had a bad attitude about something stupid. Vader didn't get to sound so disapproving and annoyingly smug at the same time. And Luke wasn't a teenager - he didn't need to endure a lecture.
"Luke - "
"I heard you and I hate you so much right now."
His father made an odd sound that Luke quickly realized was laughter. Warm amusement and even a flickering hint of affection fluttered freely across their bond - the feeling surprised him and at any other time or place, might have been a welcome realization; as it was, here and now it was an unwelcome distraction.
"You are going to make me fall," he warned, trying to ignore the strange, quiet thrill in his heart at getting a hint of what he had previously only dared to hope for.
"I would strongly advise against that."
Luke twisted in annoyance to glare down at him. "Do you have anything productive to say - son of a bitch!"
Just like that, he lost his grip and like the idiot he apparently was, he fell.
There was a flutter of surprise that may or may not have been his just as an invisible force pushes him ever so slightly in the air, enough so that he conveniently avoids hitting some rather large rocks that are sitting at the base of the cliff.
Hitting water is not much better then hitting rocks though; he lands on his back and it hurts, in a way that Luke hadn't expected it to hurt and the force of the impact knocks the air from his lungs. The pool of water at the base of the cliff had seemed shallow but it was still deep enough that he goes under completely as he lands, water washing over him in a small wave.
Luke instinctively scrambles, flailing frantically before feeling the wet silt beneath him and quickly pushing himself up. His head bursts above water - and it is shallow, he quickly realizes; he can actually sit and the water only comes up to his chest - and then he is spluttering and coughing and wet.
He breathes in air desperately, head spinning and wondering in the very back of his mind what the kriffing appeal of swimming was supposed to be for anyone. That had been maybe two solid seconds submerged under water and it had been awful.
And now he is drenched, head to foot in a cold, murky water. Warm blood is still running down his face and Luke imagines that he looks something like a bedraggled Tooka kit.
Damn.
Damn damn damn. He had been so close! But… he is… unhurt. He supposes that that is something to be grateful for. He isn't going to thank the one that did it though, since it was his fault Luke fell in the first place.
A shadow falls over him as his father steps forward, radiating a certain smugness that Luke finds to be rather rude. "Do you concede defeat?"
Luke wipes his face, pushing wet locks of hair out of his eyes so that he can look up at him. "No," he hisses, chest heaving. Bespin had been embarrassing but not this embarrassing. He carefully pulls himself to his feet, ignoring the hand that Vader extends to him, and does his best not to slip in the silt. "I do not concede defeat. I want to try it again."
He doesn't.
But it feels like he has something to prove; he's not sure what it is that he needs to prove but he's going to try and prove it all the same.
Somewhere on a different plane of existence, Uncle Owen is crossing his arms and calling him a fool. Luke is rather inclined to agree with him this time around.
His failed escape attempt has clearly put his father in a very indulgent mood - he can feel the amused smirk on his face, and is overly conscious of the fact that he is completely soaked and covered in mud. After a long pause, Vader sweeps his hand out in a wide gesture. "Be my guest."
Luke musters all the dignity he has left, which isn't much, and wades his way through the water, approaching the stupid cliff wall once again and looking up. The little trickle of water coming over the edge really isn't that fast or powerful. It's such a small amount. A gentle stream that barely disrupts the water below, save to makes a very pleasant sound. He doesn't think that it amounts to a waterfall; but if it's so slow and gentle, why is it making this so hard?
He would have been long gone by now if this thing hadn't been in his way. If the way had been dry instead of wet.
He stares up at it, trying to find a path of ascension and no longer having the benefit of being certain that he can do it. Plus, he's soaked, which is only going to make his second attempt go worse than the first. But he's stubborn; bullheaded and tenacious, like Owen and Beru always described him as. Once he has a route picked out, a different one this time, Luke glances sideways at Vader once more and knows that he's still very much enjoying this.
"You are the worst."
"Creative," Vader mocked. "Would you like me to help you up?"
"I'll accept your help when I'm dead." he snaps instinctively.
Another laugh. It's all so ridiculous and stupid that Luke dares to think that if he wasn't so frustrated by what had just happened, then he might have laughed with him. That confuses him as much as anything else has.
"Remember your three-point hold, my son."
Luke makes a face, mockingly repeating the warning under his breath like the seven year-old he no longer was before he quickly sheds the top layer of his robes, and tosses them aside in the water. They'll just drag him down at this point. Then he stalks his way to drier ground and begins his climb for the second time. His second attempt to scale the cliff doesn't go any better than the first, even as he actively attempted to do it better. In fact, it's worse. He barely finds any purchase at all and he was nowhere near as far up as he had been when he slipped and fell again, though hitting the water was not quite so painful. His arms are shaking on his third attempt and he officially twists his ankle when he falls on the fourth.
His flesh hand is torn to shreds and he is bruised, banged up, tired and sore. He is supposed to be able to escape, Luke thinks mournfully. That's what he has done all this time. Run -from all the things that seem too big for him to handle.
...maybe that's why the Force sent him this way; so that he wouldn't be able to run anymore. Besides... the Force is his father's ally too. Luke escaped last time. Maybe it was his turn to get caught. The thought makes him tired inside.
He tries to stand up, so that he can at least do this in a dignified way but promptly sits back down again, grabbing his ankle with both hands under the water, hissing softly. He's lucky it isn't broken but it hurts something fierce.
When his father approaches him again, Luke wearily unclips his lightsaber from his belt with one hand and offered it up to him in surrender. "I'm done," he assured quietly. "I give up."
There's a long pause and Luke looks up, wondering why his lightsaber hasn't been taken. To his surprise, his father shakes his head. "Keep it," he said. "Just try not to cause any unnecessary problems."
Luke blinked. "You're serious?"
Their eyes seem to meet for a brief moment and there's another hint of affection flickering briefly across their bond. It's a strange feeling, coming from someone who is so dangerous and capable of doing so much harm and cruelty.
"I am." Vader leans forward to grab Luke by the bicep and helps pull him up to his feet. His ankle twinges painfully and does his best to put the majority of his weight on his opposite foot. His father snakes an arm around his waist and draws him in closer to his person before slowly guiding him out of the water and onto dry land once more.
"I am under arrest… right?" Luke asked, just to double check where it was that they were currently standing with each other. It would suck if he got the wrong impression from any of this. Technically, they were enemies and stood on opposite sides of a galactic war.
"Officially, yes. Can you walk?"
Luke spied a pair of binders on his fathers belt for the first time, though they went untouched. For now, at least. "With help, yeah." he agrees reluctantly.
Vader nods and then urges him forward, leading him out of the gorge the way that they had both come in from. He moves at a considerate pace and it is quiet for a few minutes between them.
Officially.
Last time they had met, Vader had had an awful lot to say about what he thought Luke's destiny was. About the Empire and Emperor and all the things that he thought they could do together. He kept expecting something similar. He can feel Vader thinking - quite a bit, though his thoughts seem shrouded from view. But... so far, it was just them and the most that had happened was that his father had tried to tell him not to slip on a rock.
"What about... unofficially?" Luke finally dared to ask.
Vader glanced down at him.
"You are my son," Vader said simply, as if the answer were perfectly obvious. "And I... I would like the chance to speak with you."
There is a lot of emotion behind the last statement -
To Luke's surprise, flickering images of the Emperor, blue lightning, pain, and… the Death Star? A second Death Star, Luke realized quickly, passed silently between them. A warning, some terrible darkness, danger Luke, save him, keep him safe, Luke, Luke, LUKE - He felt himself grow still and quiet and he swallowed thickly, trying to process all the layers of what he'd just felt.
His father felt oddly patient; a stark contrast to the angry, calculating impatience he'd demonstrated at Bespin. All of it was different and maybe it should have meant nothing to him, considering... well, considering everything. But he wasn't beat to hell this time or dangling above a gantry with his hand cut off. Vader was still Vader but... he was asking and there was a deep, underlying sense of urgency in the quick images that had been shared with him. Urgency, and that same gentle warm feeling of affection that was sitting quietly in the back of his mind.
It felt like the warm rays of the sun. Like love - pure and simple and uncomplicated.
They walked in silence - or rather, Luke limped - for a few more minutes, Luke lost in the thought that the Force let him get caught. It had told him where to go and this was the end result. Surely... surely that meant something? And as frustrating and uncertain as he was... Vader was family. he knew that and had accepted it. If he hadn't been caught off guard today... Luke might have been more willing to remember that he was deeply curious and concerned about his father as a whole. That he loved him too - deeply and fiercely and that he wanted to help him... just more on his own terms.
The Force seemed to have its own plans though.
Finally, Luke bit the inside of his cheek before blowing out a slow breath. He couldn't run from this and it seemed like he wasn't supposed to either.
"I guess… maybe, if you are willing to give me a towel… I might be willing to talk to you."
A slow, disbelieving but undeniably pleased feeling grew between them, as well as the barest sense of gratitude.
"I will get you a towel," Vader promised.
And he did.
A/N Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
