Hello there.
For clarification, I am going to be flat out honest. Only thing Canon from Disney and in essence from Filoni in this is The Clone Wars (unfortunately going to have to let the EU Clone Wars go), Rebels, Bad Batch, and Mandalorian (season 1 and 2). This is because of the things I disapprove of with the Sequel Trilogy but I'm not going to beat a dead horse. Kenobi, Book of Boba Fett, Tales of the Jedi, and Mandalorian season 3 would not be referenced in this fic because I'm utterly disappointed with them however nothing would say that those events didn't occur but I just won't mention them. Post-ROTJ would be EU so there would be references to the threats afterwards such as the Vong.
I'm trying to be as unbiased as possible. In the past, I did take out anger about the Disney Canon aspects but I will not do that in this fic. This is my fic and I'm going to put in what I'm pleased with and not include other things that disappointed me. The Jedi Apprentice series is Canon in this timeline, and albeit Jedi Quest and its characters would appear, it would have several adjustments. The Last of the Jedi books would also be known as Canon in this too. Gotta headcanon many things I like from both continuities and be fair. Aside from what's going on in this era, the High Republic Era from Disney Canon and the Old Republic Era from the EU shall remain relatively unchanged (even though I dislike what happened to Revan and the Exile tbh) due to the fact that they don't contradict one another and would only be referenced in passing. The books about Darth Bane also is unchanged. What is altered however is the Denningsverse with those creepy sexual situations that Dennings love to pride himself for. Abeloth still exists, just basing her similarly not entirely the exact same as Dennings did the character.
There would be several changes to characters fates. This is obviously an AU and a time travel one. The concept of time traveling, I want to ensure has obvious impacts. This is a parallel universe so there would be some differences, some very minor, some very major...
Some aspects of this fic (and possible trilogy) is inspired by a mixture of Krayt's Oath by SnowflakesandMozart, Reprise by Elfpen, and A Wound in Time by WavesBlade...
Chapter 1
Smoke is everywhere, substantial rumblings come from all directions at once, and people are running and shouting. Electrical fires, steam explosions, cabin depressurizations, disruption of chain-of-command. Add to this, the continued bombardments by Rebel cruisers—smelling fear in the enemy—merely heightens the sense of hysteria that is already pervasive.
For the Emperor is dead. The central, powerful evil that had been the cohesive force to the Empire was gone; and when the Dark Side is this diffused, this nondirected—this is simply where it led.
Confusion.
Desperation.
Damp fear.
Amid this uproar, Luke manages to make it, somehow, to the main docking bay—where he is trying to carry the hulking deadweight of his father's weakening body toward an Imperial shuttle. Halfway there, his strength finally gives out, though; and he collapses under the strain.
Slowly he rises again. Like an automaton, he hoists his father's body over his shoulder and stumbles toward one of the last remaining shuttles.
Luke rests his father on the ground, trying to collect strength one last time, as explosions grew louder all around them. Sparks hisses in the rafters; one of the walls buckled, and smoke pours through a gaping fissure. The floor trembles.
Vader motions Luke closer to him. "Luke, help me take this mask off."
Luke shakes his head. "You'll die."
The Dark Lord's voice is weary. "Nothing can stop that now. Just once let me face you without it. Let me look on you with my own eyes."
Luke is afraid. Afraid to see his father as he really is. Afraid to see what person could have become so dark—the same person who'd fathered Luke, and his sister. Afraid to know the Anakin Skywalker who lived inside Darth Vader.
Vader, too, is afraid—to let his son see him, to remove this armored mask that had been between them so long. The black, armored mask that had been his only means of existing for over twenty years. It had been his voice, his breath, and his invisibility—his shield against all human contact. But now he would remove it; for he would see his son before he died.
Together, they lift the heavy helmet from Vader's head—inside the mask portion, a complicated breathing apparatus had to be disentangled, and a speaking modulator and view-screen detach from the power unit in the back. But when the mask is finally off and sets aside, Luke gazes at his father's face.
It is the sad, benign face of someone who is supposed to be middle-aged yet disfigured and old. Bald, beardless, with a mighty scar running from the top of his head to the back of the scalp, he has unfocused, deep-set, dark blue eyes, and his skin is pasty white, for it has not seen the sun in two decades. The old man smiles weakly; tears glaze his eyes, now.
It is a face full of meanings, that Luke will forever recall. Regret, he saw most plainly. And shame. Memories can be seen flashing across it… memories of rich times. And horrors. And love, too.
It is a face that hadn't touched the world in a lifetime. In Luke's lifetime. He sees the wizened nostrils twitch, as they tested a first, tentative smell. He sees the head tilt imperceptibly to listen—for the first time without electronic auditory amplification. Luke feels a pang of remorse that the only sounds now to be heard were those of explosions, the only smells, the pungent sting of electrical fires. Still, it is a touch. Palpable, unfiltered.
He sees the old eyes focus on him. Tears burn Luke's cheeks and fall on his father's lips. His father smiles at the taste.
It is a face that had not seen itself in twenty years.
Vader sees his son crying, and knows it must have been at the horror of the face the boy beholds.
It intensifies, momentarily, Vader's sense of anguish—about his crimes, now, he adds guilt at the imagined repugnance of his appearance. But then this brings him to the mind of the way he used to look—striking, and grand, with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted of invincibility and took in all of life with a wink. Yes, that was how he'd looked once.
And this memory brought a wave of other memories with it. Memories of brotherhood, and home. His dear wife. The freedom of deep space. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, his friend…and how that friendship had turned. Turned, he knows not how—but got injected, nonetheless, with some uncaring virulence that festered, until…hold. These are memories he wants none of, not now. Memories of molten lava, crawling up his back…no.
This boy pulled him from that pit—here, now, with this act. This boy is good.
The boy is good, and the boy comes from him—so there must have been good in him, too. He smiles up again at his son, and for the first time, loves him. And for the first time in many long years, loves himself again, as well.
Suddenly he smells something—flares his nostrils, sniffs once more. Wildflowers, that is what it is. Just blooming; it must be spring.
And there is thunder—he cocks his head, strains his ears. Yes, spring thunder, for spring rain. To make the flowers bloom.
Yes, there…he feels a raindrop on his lips. He licks the delicate droplet…but wait, it isn't sweet water, it is salty, it is…a teardrop.
He focuses on Luke once again and sees his son crying. Yes, that is it, he is tasting his boy's grief—because he looks so horrible; because he is so horrible.
But he wants to make it all right for Luke, he wants Luke to know he wasn't really ugly like this, not deep inside, not altogether. With a little self-deprecatory smile, he shakes his head at Luke, explaining away the unsightly beast his son sees.
Luke shakes his head, too—to tell his father it was all right, to dismiss the old man's shame, to tell him nothing mattered now. And everything—but he couldn't talk.
Vader speaks again, even weaker—almost inaudible. "Now go, my son. Leave me."
At that, Luke finds his voice. "No. You're coming with me. I'll not leave you here. I've got to save you."
"You already have, Luke," he whispers. He wishes, briefly, he can meet Yoda, to thank the old Jedi for the training he'd given Luke…but perhaps he'd be with Yoda soon, now, in the ethereal oneness of the Force. And with Obi-Wan. "You were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister you were right."
"Father, I won't leave you," Luke protests. Explosions jars the docking bay in earnest, crumbling one entire wall and splitting the ceiling. A jet of blue flame shoots from a gas nozzle nearby. Just beneath it, the floor begins to melt.
Vader blinks, feeling his body weakening, Luke's beautiful face painting in his mind. "Luke, you were right…and you were right about me…Tell your sister…you were right."
Luke will live. Leia will too. So will the rest of their Rebel friends. The Empire will fall. Vader has little remorse in the eventual hell that is about to consume him. He hears a murmur in the Force, a flash of light blinding him in a instant as he falls into darkness. Not the one that he was expecting, but rather one serene and... almost peaceful.
Opening his eyes, Vader is surprised by the hot sun burning into his skin. He reaches up his arm and cover his blurry vision. That is when the man realizes it. His arm is a prosthetic, similar to the one he'd possessed at the end of the Clone Wars.
Vader breathes... he is surprised by that being able to do that again, Ever since his burns on Mustafar due to his battle with his former Master, his damaged lungs have never been able to breathe properly, and he'd allowed the injuries to flourish for so long that the likelihood of breathing.
He stares around himself and instantly recognizes this planet as Tatooine. For two decades, Darth Vader was inclined to ignore this planet, his mother's death driving home his hatred.
He even briefly pondered destroying the planet but had opted not to because Shmi Skywalker was buried here.
Vader realizes with a start his limbs have been restored, and he rubs his hand into the top of his head, shocked when he feels actual hair instead of the black helmet of doom that spelled him.
Perhaps this afterlife is just the hell that is to come for Anakin after all of his crimes.
That is what he'd thought before he notices it. On his hips, two lightsabers rest soundlessly. The one that belonged to Anakin Skywalker after he'd lost his arm to Dooku. The one that belonged to Skywalker when he was a General of the Republic. The one that he used after his turn to the Dark Side to murder his fellow Jedi and the Separatists Leadership on Mustafar.
And then there's the other one. The one that Vader had used for years since he'd crafted synthetically in the shadow of the Death Star 1.
But why did the Force allowed him to keep his lightsabers if this is some sort of afterlife? Why did the Force send him here to all places? Korriban would have been one way to punish Vader for his crimes.
At that moment, Vader feels a Force Signature, one that he'd felt...
Vader begins walking down to the presence, refusing to just stand around. He had to know if it was the person who he'd thought it was. For a moment, Vader feels horror as he begins walking faster, sensing that the signature is in some sort of pain. He takes a moment to inspect the city of Mos Espa, noting the sight of dark figures of all type.
Fortunately, none turns to look in his direction, for Vader feels that old pang that came with being on this planet as a child. At the time, the boy believed that saving all slaves would be a possibility. Now, with the older and wiser mentality that Vader offered him, he'd now realized that doing so would only cost the slaves their lives.
And anyhow, if this is the Force manipulating his mind and this is just his hellhole, Vader cannot change a thing.
Continuing his stride in the direction of the signature, Vader makes sure to keep his senses up instinctively. His time as Vader taught him that betrayal could be paramount, and even now he still has that feeling that anyone who he crosses can prove themselves as traitor.
Vader makes his way to the residence that once belonged to Shmi Skywalker and knocks. When the door opens, Vader has to resist the feeling of his knees buckling, his body stiffening up in the first time for a long time. Seeing and sensing is two different things, and unlike in the Tuskens village, she is so alive, so vibrant, so... beautiful.
He wants nothing more but to engulf her in his arms, yet something prevents him from doing so. Reaching out into the Force, Vader feels signatures of all type in the galaxy, presences that long since blinked out now active yet again, as if they have never faded. He feels darkness as well, but it is not as powerful as it was during the Clone Wars.
Whatever this strange reality is, Vader would rather stay in it, even with the boy...
Wait. Boy?
Indeed, briefly reaching out, Vader senses his own signature, not yet tainted by the cost of war and darkness, ever malnourished and small, yet still powerful than ever. The Force is shielding him as always.
"Your son... I have felt him in the Force." Part of him twists in disgust at himself for lying to the woman that resembles in his mother. "Might I know what his name is?"
"Anakin Skywalker. I have given birth to him two years ago." Shmi smiles down at her son briefly before pulling him closer as if hiding him away.
Anakin's eyes go wide. That would make him two then, a toddler who haven't yet been touched by slavery and the emotionless life of a Jedi.
"May I know who are you?" Shmi asks, somewhat apprehensively but protective over her son.
He considers telling her the truth but not now, not under these circumstances. After all, the likelihood of him just landing on her front door and claiming to be her son from the future would be overwhelming for anyone to believe.
"Vader," he responds. "I do feel sadden for intruding in such a manner but I need a place to lay low."
"No, it's alright," Shmi says, eyeing him up and down, not noticing the lightsabers clipped to his belt. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I have never seen you before. Are you a traveler?"
Vader nods. "Yes, and beyond that, I'm going to be frank: I possess the powers of the Jedi." To show proof of this, Vader pulls his cloak back and reveal the two lightsabers resting on his belt.
The woman's eyes go wide. "We are own by Gardulla The Hutt. They would not be happy with your presence."
"The Hutts are beneath me," Vader replies coldly, tightening his hand up into a fist as while he can forgive everything that happened in his life, he cannot forgive those who bring suffering to his mother which drew the pathway to her death. "For now I would act in secret, but trust and believe that you would see a free Tatooine soon. Your son would not grow up in an environment of pain."
Shmi doesn't seem to believe him but she invites him inside and Vader follows. For now, he shall savour the moment with his mother and younger self, but eventually he will make sure not to lose sight of himself.
The Force has sent him here for a reason...
One act of redemption is not enough, Vader realizes. He have done countless atrocities and he would be hunted by them for the rest of his days, but he would make things right this time around and do better.
No matter the challenges along the way, Vader shall atone for his sins, and ensure that his younger self would not suffer as he has.
Arthur's note: I have not ran into a single time travel fanfic with the concept of Vaderkin raising Anakin that is appeasing aside from one and that one was too dark for even my nature and outright Obi-Wan bashing, especially given it's after ROTJ no offense intended to the author.
While he's going to be called Vader to avoid confusion, he is by the mentality of Anakin Skywalker. I am unsure if I'm going to make this into a trilogy or not as I'm thinking about having Anakin remain young in this book. One thing for certain, he will not be raised by the Jedi this time around.
Also, Vaderkin is twenty-three for anyone confused, the age he was in ROTS and this is seven years before The Phantom Menace.
May the Force be with you all always.