The Dragon's Vault

Summary: (Inspired by the Hobbit) Luke has snuck into the great vault of the dragon Vader, a creature of great greed who does not suffer the loss of a single gold coin.

Luke paused and leaned against the large rectangular column. The cool stone felt nice against his hot and sweaty skin. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths, slower with each one. In and out. In and out. Once his heart rate had lowered, he could hear down the hall.

Nothing.

Nothing but his own breathing.

He wasn't sure if that boded well or poorly for him.

He opened his eyes and glanced around. He was almost to the landing. Taking a deep breath, he crept on. His boots had been left behind; he moved quieter on bare feet. He could also sense any vibrations in the ground, but he only felt the cold smooth stone.

Luckily, the walls of this hall still had many of the firestone tiles intact. They gave off an orange glow that was just enough for him to see by. He almost wished they were larger and able to give off heat. His jacket had been left behind with the boots. Anything that would hinder him or cause noise.

He cautiously approached the landing. He listened for several long movements and felt for the hum in the stones under his feet. Silence. Nothing. He stepped onto the landing. It was a bold move that would leave him exposed. He prayed luck was on his side.

The cold nipping at his toes and arms was forgotten as he stared at the massive room in front of him. It was so exspansive that the ceiling and far walls were lost in the gloom of the shadows. Thick columns rose up from the floor. Carved into the stone were geometric patterns and statue reliefs of hooded men and women holding swords. Firestone tiles of various sizes still glowed in the columns. There were even a few sunstones, which made the firestones look like dim candles. The tiles almost made it feel like Luke was looking at the night sky as the columns and stones faded into the long stretch of darkness of the vault.

But even an artificial sky compared to nothing to what lay below. Reflecting the light of the tiles were piles and piles of treasure. He couldn't even see the floor and suspected it was well buried.

Everywhere he looked were untold riches. There were thousands upon thousands of coins from all across the continent and some from even beyond the great oceans. Necklaces were draped on columns, and rings held every manner of precious gems. Scattered around were gold and silver cups and chalices, plates and platters, vases and urns of all shapes and makes. Poking out he could see shields and sets of armor made of metal more precious than gold or iron. Sticking out of the piles were swords and knives that were still unbelievably sharp. He saw cloaks and dresses with gold trim and gem beading and scatterings of crowns and tiaras. Sprinkled about were babbles and ornaments and statues from small to dozens of feet tall. There was even the bow of a large boat half-buried in the piles. It looked like it was sinking into the waves of treasure.

It was an ocean of gold and silver buried deep in the core of a mountain.

Luke realized he had been on the landing for too long. He strained his ears. Still, silence. There was no clanking of metal or even the softest of chimes.

He had to move.

He headed towards a stone bridge that connected this wall to a nearby column. The bridge was flat with no rails or sides. He moved carefully: even the smallest pebble could tumble off the side and clink and chatter in the treasure below.

Sound was a double-edged sword here. It would alert Luke to any approaching danger, but it would also alert the owner and resident of this place to Luke. And Luke had no desire to have a run-in with Vader, the dread darth dragon. He had grown up hearing dozens of stories about those who dared to challenge the beast, seeking riches; all had failed.

Luke would not be added to that list.

It was slow going, but he made his way across the first bridge. There was a balcony that wrapped around the column, and like the bridge, it lacked any railing or lip. There were stairs that snaked down into the treasure below and other bridges connecting to other columns. Not all the bridges were whole. Some had been smashed apart, most likely by Vader.

As he slowly made his way across the next bridge, he couldn't help but wonder what this place used to be. This mountain used to be the great Jedi Archives. The Jedi Order, a religious group of warriors, traveled the world as peacemakers and scholars. They loved to collect knowledge. It could have been in buying or hand-copying books, writing down folktales and legends that had been passed down by generations, making sketches or rubbings of runes carved into stones, or creating their own tomes and maps.

The Order was old and had lasted for centuries, and the collection grew beyond just basic knowledge. Soon they had samples of thousands of plants, skeletons, and hides of hundreds of animals, an impressive collection of feathers, insects, seeds, and rocks.

And yet the collection grew. There were some, like Luke's family, that said the Jedi became greedy. They started to seek out things that were more materialistic. There were stories of halls of paintings, chests after chests filled with fine clothing, with vaults filled with gold and silver. With so many riches, the Jedi Temples were often targeted, so the Order created the great Archives.

They picked a spot deep in the mountains that provided lots of natural protection. Then, using magic, they carved out an entire mountain hollow and filled it with all their knowledge and wealth. It was known the world over as holding anything and everything behind its locked doors.

Weapons straight out of legends. Bones and horns of animals that were long believed to be just myths. Potions that could cure any ailment. Crowns and tiaras of long-fallen and forgotten kingdoms. Unbelievable magical items like carpets that could fly and harps that could play themselves. Maps of countries that have been swallowed by the sea or land. Holy items. Cursed items. Every enchanted item in between.

And then Darth Vader came.

The Jedi Knights put forth a valiant effort, but it was in vain. They were slaughtered by the dragon, and Vader claimed their great treasures.

There had been attempts to drive Vader out over the past nineteen years, but no army had ever made it inside. Vader was too big, too powerful. Some thought that perhaps force wasn't the correct way to go and tried subtler means. Even if thieves and rogues made it inside, all were eventually found. There were stories of a few managing to get a handful of gold and scurrying out before Vader noticed, but their lives still ended in dragon fire. Vader would notice even a missing coin and hunt it down.

It was foolish and suicidal to try to steal from Vader, and yet Luke dared to do it.

It was obvious there was some truth to the stories Luke had been told. The sea of treasure stretched endlessly below him as visible evidence. Yet that was not why he was here. He placed his hand on his chest and felt for the leather bag that hung from a cord around his neck. The bag was tucked into his shirt to keep it secure. It was still there.

He lost track of time as he navigated the bridges. He couldn't bother with such a thing as he had to keep alert, constantly listening for the smallest sound and eyeing the treasure for any movement. When he made it to the far wall of the vault, he was sweaty and sore. He didn't even let himself dwell on having to do the return journey. Instead, he rested and calmed his heart.

He made his way down a winding staircase to the ground floor. Oddly enough, this area was devoid of treasure. There was nothing of note except for a set of stairs leading to a small platform where a single iron door sat. It was rather simple and bland, especially compared to the sparkling piles behind him. He marveled at its simplicity as he walked up the steps.

It was, in a way, genius. Who would come this far without getting lured by all the other treasure? Who bothers approaching such a boring door?

Luke pulled the leather bag out and dumped its contents into his hand. It was a key, simple and iron just like the door. In fact, it was a perfect match.

He smiled as he felt the tension ease in his heart. It was the right key. This trip hadn't been in vain.

The key slid into the lock effortlessly.

Luke paused. No doubt there would be sound as the door unlocked. He looked over his shoulder. Nothing stirred in the gold. Was Vader even out there? He looked back at the key and the door. He had come this far; there was no way he could go back now. He took a deep breath, held it in, and turned the key.

There was a distinct click.

His chest burned as he continued to hold his breath. He listened over his pounding heart. He didn't even dare to move.

A second passed. Two. Three. Ten.

Nothing.

He heard nothing.

He slowly breathed out and looked back at the treasure. It was the same. Still and unmoved.

He grabbed the door handle, carefully opened the door, and stepped in.

The first thing he noticed was the stones. Earth stones. He paused as he looked down at the tile on the floor. His eyes quickly traveled from the floor to the wall to the ceiling. The room was domed and the entire thing was decorated in a tile mosaic.

The floor was made of grass and flowers and a twisting stream. Earth stones nestled between the green grass blades gave off a soft green glow. Petal stones blinked pink and yellow in the flowers. Water stones softly radiated their blue light.

The walls showed a mural of trees, hills, mountains, and waterfalls all with corresponding stones. But then the sky– oh the sky!– took his breath away. A series of circles went from one side to the other showing the cycles of the moon. The glowing circles were made completely of moon stone.

Moon stone was rare. It could hold a lot of magic, much more than most of the other stones. As such it was in high demand and would never be used on something as frivolous as decoration.

But it wasn't just the moon stone that caused Luke's mouth to drop open. There were also dozens upon dozens of star stones twinkling in the false sky.

They were the rarest type of magical stones. They held extraordinary magic, rumored to be able to cure any wound or grant a long-lasting life. However, they were small and fragile and after one use often dimmed and shattered. A single small stone was worth a fortune. What was the worth of an entire night sky of such stones? It easily outdid the massive horde in the vault.

Then he noticed the box in the center of the room and slowly approached it. It was made of simple white marble. It was smooth and clean and stood on four little legs. There were no engravings or decorations, which made it appear quite simple to the grandeur of the room around it.

As he approached he realized it was much bigger than he thought at first. It was actually rectangular in shape and bigger than him. It was the perfect shape and size to hold . . . to hold a person . . .

It looked like it could easily be a sarcophagus.

He hurried to the box. There were no words on the top, only a symbol. He knew this symbol. His mind raced.

Naboo!

This was the symbol of Naboo.

Why was it on this box?

He looked up and noticed on the far wall the mosaic mural showing the setting sun. Standing in front of the sun were a man and a woman. The woman had long brown wavy hair with white flowers that sparkled with tiny flecks of star stones. Her dress was a deep blue, dotted with water stones. The man was tall and wore a dark tunic. They stood side by side with their eyes closed and heads bent towards each other. Both of their hands were on the woman's stomach, which looked round with child.

A stillness ran through Luke as everything faded away except for the mural and the cold marble under his fingertips. He placed his hand on the lid. After several long moments, he looked down at the box. His throat had a large lump that was making it hard to swallow.

What was in this box?

He slid his hands along the smooth top until his palms rested against the side of the lid. He shifted his feet to help give him leverage, and then he pushed. Marble ground against marble as the lid slowly opened. He grew impatient and stopped once he had only a small sliver open, but it would be enough to look inside.

He bent over and looked inside . . .

The first thing he became aware of was that his feet were no longer on the floor. Next, he felt the air snapping at his hair -no, his whole body. He was . . . flying . . . moving backward through the air. The room was now nothing but a blur of color.

He landed hard against dozens of pieces of gold trinkets and coins. His head spun as he struggled to catch his breath. He felt the cold inky traces of magic that had wrapped around his body to yank him out of the room.

He needed to orient his thoughts. He needed to move before–

The air stuck in his throat as he froze upon hearing the sound of soft clinking and clattering of metal. It grew louder, closer. Luke blinked and pushed himself up to his elbows. His body was sore and forming dozens of bruises from his impact, but he couldn't focus on that. He looked around for the quickest escape, the nearest staircase, perhaps there was a hallway or . . .

The treasure in the pile next to him surged and then parted as a large black dragon emerged. Thick-scaled, clawed feet stomped on top of gold; claws dug into the coins and trinkets. Smoke rose from the nostrils. Gold eyes rimmed in red that seemed to glow amongst the gold scales glared down at him.

"What do we have here?" a deep booming voice asked.

Luke winced.

"A little thief?"

Vader's head slowly lowered to the floor.

"I must commend you, young one," he hissed. "You got farther than any other before you, but that is as far as you get."

Then the mouth opened revealing sharp teeth. Luke gasped as he tried to push himself up and scramble away, but Vader was faster. Blackness fell across Luke as teeth closed in on him. He tried kicking and pushing and yelling, but nothing worked.

"Father! Father! Stop! Put me down!"

Vader, the darth dragon, did not.

Luke groaned as he felt dragon drool start to soak his clothes. He hated dragon drool. He couldn't see well besides black scales and a few teeth, but he could tell his father had stood up and was now moving through the vault.

"Father!" Luke cried again. "Put me down! I hate being carried in your mouth."

There was a low rumbling from Vader's throat.

"Are you . . . purring?"

The sound grew louder.

Luke groaned again. "Content bastard," he grumbled as he accepted his fate.

In what had taken Luke hours, Vader traveled in a matter of minutes, and then they were on the other side of the vault. The sound of clinking treasure faded away as Vader carried his son through the large grand hallways of the Archives.

It wasn't long before Vader lowered his head and gently used his tongue to push Luke onto the floor.

Luke scrambled to his feet and started to wipe off the drool knowing full well it wouldn't come out. He glared up at the large dragon who looked far too pleased.

"I see you were successful."

Luke looked over his shoulder to see his sister sitting in a tall red-velvet plush chair. She wore a fresh robe and was brushing her hair. The untamed part was frizzed up, a telltale sign she had suffered the same fate as he had.

"About the same as you," he wagered.

Vader laid down and curled up like he was a large house cat.

"You two are getting better," Vader said. "I suppose with time you will eventually be proper little thieves."

"What was in that box?" Luke asked.

The black slits of Vader's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing," Vader answered.

Luke gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. He had gotten one good look into the box before his father had used magic to fling him out of the room. It was empty, save for a few small white flowers.

"It wasn't always empty," Luke said.

"It was not," Vader confirmed. "But things had to be moved when I noticed a certain key was missing."

"What– How–"

The blacks in Vader's eyes grew round with amusement as he started to purr again.

Luke shot his father one last dirty look before he turned on his heel and marched away. He passed Leia, who raised an eyebrow in an inquisitive look. He shook his head.

He didn't think the source of the curse had been in that room. There had been something else in there but . . .

He recalled the mural of the man and the woman. Of her swollen belly. Of two small children on either side of the adults. One with blond hair and blue eyes; another with brown hair and brown eyes. He remembered the smooth, cold marble and how it that box had been the perfect size for . . . for a body . . .

That room didn't feel like a vault. It felt like a tomb.

Luke stopped in front of the large fire, and let the warmth chase away some of the chills caused by the drool. They were in the grand hall, which had been refashioned into the home of the Skywalker family. It was huge, with tall ceilings that stretched up several stories. It was well over twice as tall as Vader. Thin windows ran down both sides of the hall, letting in plenty of natural light. At the end of the hall was a solid wall with a large fireplace where Luke now stood.

Vader had carefully furnished this side of the hall. By the fireplace were a few plush chairs and sofas with small tables. There were piles of books littered about as reading was one of the favorite pastimes of the twins. To the north side was a long table, though it was only set with a few chairs. To the south were a few dividers separating two beds, a changing area with several trunks of clothes, and a bathtub.

This was where Luke and Leia had grown up. The empty half of the hall was where their father stayed, as he was now, and watched over them. The vault had been their playground; the untold riches their toys. When they had turned sixteen, Vader had gifted them private bedrooms on the dormitory floors. The hallways there were not dragon-sized and Vader had to revert to his human form to visit them.

But Luke doubted he would be sleeping there tonight. No doubt, his father would not be leaving his spot on the floor, which blocked the way out through the large doors at the other end of the hallway. It was their punishment. They were stuck in the hallway until Vader let them go.

But he would. He always did.

Well, at least allow them to leave the grand hall. But to leave the Archive? To step beyond the grand entrance gate?

Vader had never allowed it and never would.

He had made that very clear to two very curious little children as they grew up.

One day Luke would leave this place and would see all the places he had read about and seen maps of. See plants in their natural habitat, not limited to dried pressings between pages or drawings. He would see, touch and feel living creatures instead of touching their bones and hides.

And . . . and he would meet people.

But that would come later.

Hopefully.

Because the best way of achieving that dream was to cure his father's curse.

When their father had gifted them their own private rooms, Luke and Leia had explored the dormitory floors thoroughly. It had previously been blocked off by rubble. In one of the old rooms that had obviously been searched and cleared by Vader, they found a hidden compartment in a bookshelf revealing a secret stash of handwritten journals. In one of the journals, it talked about the Seven Curses of Power.

They granted unimaginable power, but at a great price. Each one had a different side effect.

The journal talked about how one man named Jabba took the Curse of Gluttony, and was turned into a giant slug creature. In return, he became very rich and ruled over his own country. There was another man who took the Curse of Wrath. His skin became black and red and horns grew from his head. It was unknown what he had achieved with the curse.

Then there was the Curse of Greed that Anakin Skywalker took. It granted him the form of a fierce and powerful dragon and unbelievable magical powers. Reverting to his human form was took a lot of concentration and focus. It was hard to maintain. Then there was the insatiable lust for materialistic goods. It was compulsive and uncontrollable, at least from what Luke had observed.

Vader guarded his treasures fiercely and was constantly checking on it. His memory of where things were was perfect. It was most likely how he had noticed a single missing key out of hundreds. He would not suffer a loss of a single coin. No one took from Darth Vader . . . except perhaps his own children.

But was it really stealing? Did it truly leave Vader's possession? It wasn't as if Luke and Leia could do anything with any treasure.

When they were young, the twins would hold a competition to see who could find the most interesting item. They would scour the vault for hours to try and better the other. But soon the sea of riches grew dull and they started to explore elsewhere.

And one day they entered a place they should not have. They didn't even get very far into the room before Vader snatched them out of there. When they tried to return they found the door locked.

That didn't deter them. After all, the Archives held unlimited knowledge, including on how to pick locks.

Vader had to improvise. If locked doors didn't stop his children, then large rocks and rubble would. It then became almost a game between them. Vader would lock up a room or hall or block with stacks of broken columns. Luke and Leia would then find a way in. Vader would block it off again.

"Why don't you just let us in?" Leia had asked. She was thirteen.

"There are dangerous things in this place," Vader rumbled.

"And? You could just tell us what those dangerous things are. We can take care of ourselves."

Vader huffed. "That has yet to be proven. The answer is still no."

"Is there something else?" Luke had asked. "Something you don't want us to find?"

Vader said nothing.

"There is, isn't there?" Luke said. "What kind of treasure is it?"

"Is it valuable?" Leia chimed in.

Their father was silent, but the twins kept asking questions.

"Is it made out of gold?"

"Does it have gems in it?"

"Is it magical?"

"Is it a weapon?"

Though Vader never answered the questions, they were convinced there was something, some piece of a treasure, that among all others Vader treasured the most. And they would find it.

It wouldn't be until three years later that they realized what that most precious thing must be. The source of the Curse of Greed. Each of the Curses of Power had their magic contained in an item. The Curse of Lust's source was inside a ruby necklace. The Curse of Envy was a small dagger.

If Luke and Leia could find the source of the Curse of Greed, perhaps there was a way they could undo the curse and free their father.

"Are you two still hunting for my most precious item?" Vader asked. "Is that what you two were after today?"

Luke turned away from the fire. His father was still curled up and looking far too smug.

"Is that what was in that box?" Luke asked.

There was a long pause, but eventually, Vader answered. "No."

No, Luke thought. There was something else in that box.

"I doubt you will ever find it," Vader said. "For I assure you, young ones, I am very good at keeping the thing I value the most very safe."

Vader blinked very slowly as he looked directly at his children. Leia only huffed, rolled her eyes, and glanced over at her brother. They shared a look he knew understood very well. They weren't giving up. They would find the source and free their father.