Naberrie's Flowers

Summary: Another one-shot from a prompt someone provided me on tumblr. Vader finds his son on Naboo working as a florist.

Darth Vader made his way to his private chambers on board his flagship star destroyer. Those he met along the way, quickly flattened themselves against the wall. Vader keyed in his personal code to unlock the door. He stepped into a rather plain and empty reception room. He didn't pause here. He continued on to the next door. It slid open silently.

Vader stepped into a room filled with flowers. All sorts of flowers from every corner of the galaxy. They sat in tall beautiful arrangements in various vases and containers. The room was completely filled. Some arrangements were even as tall as he was. Vader walked up and gently brought his hand up to one white flower. Then he moved on deeper into his quarters and left the flowers behind.

He walked down the hall and stopped at an open door. Flowers filled this room, but unlike the sitting room the flowers were sorted by type, size, and color into thin plastoid vases. Against the far wall by the viewport sat a large workbench.

"Luke?" Vader asked.

The figure sitting at the benched turned around. Luke smiled. He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. He wore a simple white shirt and gray pants but with no shoes or socks. He walked over and stopped in front of Vader.

"Did you see them?" Luke asked. He was referring to the new flower arrangements filling the sitting room.

"They are hard to miss," Vader replied.

"What did you think?"

Vader paused. There was a smile on the boy's lips. He shone in the Force. He was so bright. So eager.

"They are marvelous, young one," Vader said.

Luke's smile grew large and wide. His light grew brighter. It was almost painful to look at him. In truth Vader did not care much for the flowers. They took up a lot of room. He could barely discern their colors through the red lenses of his helmet. He couldn't smell their sweet perfumed scents. Plus Vader had to deal with getting rid of the flowers as well as procuring new ones.

Vader had never expected to find his son on Naboo. He had been there to attend a parade that was being held in the Emperor's honor that the Emperor himself was unable to attend. Most likely it had all been arranged by Sidious. Another jab in Vader's side knowing how well Vader hated the planet. How much it reminded him of her.

Vader had stormed away from the parade and into the side streets. That was when he saw a shop sign. In the center was a large pink lotus flower. In curling letters underneath it said: Naberrie's Flowers. Padmé had been named after the lotus. Why did this shop use her name so?

Inside he found the young blonde human florist working on his latest creation at the counter. When he looked up and saw Darth Vader, his eyes grew wide with fear. He took a small step away from the counter.

"Boy," Vader grumbled. "Who owns this shop?"

"I . . . I do," he replied.

"You?" Vader asked. "You do not look old enough."

The boy straightened up. "It was a gift from my grandparents," he said defiantly. The boy had a bit of a fight in him, Vader noted.

"What is your name?" Vader asked. The fight fled away from the boy. He nervously glanced around. "Your name." Vader growled. "Do not make me ask again."

"Luke," he said softly. "Luke Naberrie."

"Naberrie?" Vader asked. It was possible. Padmé did have an older sister. Plus there could be other families who used the name. "What are the name of your parents?" he demanded.

"Uhh my parents are dead, sir," Luke said quietly. "I was raised by my grandparents."

"Their names."

"Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie."

So he was Padmé's nephew. But . . . that thought didn't sit right with the dark lord. He looked nothing like Padmé's sister, Sola. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He had met Sola's daughters once with Padmé. The girls had dark hair and dark eyes like their mother and father.

"Your mother's name," Vader demanded. He wasn't sure why he asked. This boy had to be the son of Sola. He didn't look old enough to be . . . her son . . . their son . . .

Fear started to snake off the boy in the Force. Vader reached for it, and what he found made him skip a breath. When he touched the boy in the Force, Luke shone. He was bright. So unmistakingly bright. He was strong in the Force but also untrained. Vader pulled back and passed through whatever shields had been erected to hide the boy.

Vader's mind spun. No. It wasn't possible. She had died. The baby had died!

Vader jumped over the counter in one smooth motion. Luke let out a squeak and quickly stepped away. He didn't get far until he bumped into the back wall. Vader was there. He gripped the boy's chin and titled the head so he could get a better look.

He could see it. Her eyes, but they were dark. Luke's eyes were light in color. Were they blue? Like Vader's had once been? He saw his chin, but her nose. His hair.

"What is the name of your mother?" Vader growled. It came out harsher than he had intended. The boy flinched.

"Pad . . . Padmé Naberrie," the boy whispered.

That was how Vader had discovered his son had lived. Luke Naberrie. He had been raised by his grandparents. By Padmé's parents. Of course Vader had grabbed the boy and dragged him back to his ship. Luke did not go willingly. Only once they were on board the star destroyer did Vader reveal the truth. It was a hard truth. Luke knew his father was Anakin Skywalker, but had assumed like the rest of the Naberries that Anakin had been killed in the Jedi purge.

It took awhile for Luke to warm up to Vader. He kept asking for flowers, and finally Vader relented. For the first time, Vader saw his son smile. The flowers brought him so much joy, so Vader kept buying them. Luke kept arranging them. The flowers kept flooding his quarters.

But Luke loved the flowers, and Vader loved Luke. So the flowers stayed, and so did Luke. But if the flowers left, Luke would stay. For he no longer stayed for the flowers. He stayed for his father.