the other 'finally!'
Feb. 1st, 2020 12:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghrainetitle: The Jedi and the Sith Lord (13/?)
verse: Lucy Skywalker: my f!Luke AU, following from The Adventures of Lucy Skywalker and The Imperial Menace
characters: Luke/Lucy Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker; Ellex (LX-3)
stuff that happens: Lucy is presented with opportunity.
previous sections: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Several hours later, Lucy supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that her father had given up his name. Obviously, he’d stopped using it, chosen to put their family and their people behind him to become Darth Vader. She still didn’t know how or why or even when exactly it had happened, but she knew it had. She’d known that from the moment she accepted the truth.
But it was difficult to hear in person.
It was all difficult to hear in person, she thought, her fury finally dwindling to resentment. She could hardly expect captivity to be easy, but she couldn’t have imagined that it would turn around everything she thought she’d known. It still felt colossally unfair. She’d tried to be a good person all her life, even if she had a quick temper and a certain impatience with things that got in her way. Why—
But her father had once been a good person, too. She knew he had. Even Ben said so. What had happened to him? All she knew was that he’d been like this for nearly twenty years, and before that, a Jedi, and before that, a slave.
Lucy felt a prickle of uneasiness. Names could be a messy business in slave families. In all probability, Anakin hadn’t been Anakin at birth, but a series of numbers and letters. Shmi would have named him in secret, until they found themselves with a master who allowed them to indulge in such things. Maybe Anakin had wanted to choose a name freely.
It just—didn’t feel that way.
No, it felt like stomping all over the memory of Shmi, and the memory of her murdered people. Maybe he didn’t care. Then again, maybe he did. Refusing to use names and words didn’t have to mean indifference. He’d refused to speak of Padmé, yet seemed startled and offended that Ben hadn’t mentioned her to Lucy—that wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t indifference that had him walking into toxic air for Lucy and then pretending there’d been no danger.
She didn’t think so, anyway. But her thoughts hadn’t always proved the best guides. Could she trust them?
Maybe not. But she could trust the Force. Lucy scraped up enough patience to wait for the Light Side to stop slipping away, only once opening an eye to make sure Ellex wasn’t about to stun her. At last, she felt it stream and then burn within, pleasant warmth embracing her.
Again, she felt Vader’s presence above and beyond anything else; he was still in the castle. Again, she followed her sense of that presence—and yet, no foreign rush of outrage came over her. He didn’t seem angry at all, just tired.
It made a certain sense that the Dark Side took its toll. Or maybe he’d just worn himself out doing whatever he’d been up to. It shouldn’t really matter to her.
And yet she couldn’t deny an obscure comfort. Whatever else he might feel right now, it wasn’t anger.
Lucy released the Force and yawned, toppling backwards in the bed.
“Goodnight, Ellex,” she said.
Ellex didn’t reply.
-
Lucy woke to all the uncertainties of the day before. Even without actively latching onto the Force, she could tell that Vader was still there, if relatively far from her end of the castle. She thought about it, and then decided against trying to irritate him, instead planning to head out to the practice room. But something seemed different today.
She’d woken earlier than usual, which might be it, but didn’t strike Lucy as a sufficient explanation. Sitting up and peering around, her gaze fell on the droid at her door; even in silhouette, they were much too small to be Ellex.
Lucy felt a flash of horror. She didn’t like Ellex, but she didn’t want anything to happen to her, either. Quickly, she ran through the last few days, trying to unearth anything that could have resulted in Ellex disappearing like Tuvié. Giving up, she said,
“Where’s Ellex?”
The droid at the door gave an assortment of clicks and clanks.
“She-is-con-sult-ting-with-Lord-Va-der.”
“Uh,” said Lucy. “What about?”
“That-is-priv-i-leged-in-for-ma-tion,” the droid returned. “Ad-dit-ion-al-ly-I-do-not-know.”
Okay. This might not be promising, but at least seemed potentially short of disaster. Lucy just gave a nod and headed off to the fresher with the lightest tunic she could find. By the time she’d showered, brushed her teeth, done her best to tie her hair up the way she used to on Tatooine, and emerged from the fresher, the new droid was gone, and Ellex’s hulking form exactly where it always stood.
“Ellex!” Lucy exclaimed. “You’re all right!”
“Why would I be anything other than correct?” said Ellex.
“I didn’t mean that. I’m just glad you weren’t blasted to pieces or something.”
“Blasted to pieces? I do not comprehend your reasoning,” Ellex said, sounding offended. “I am extremely capable of defending myself from attack, and of very high value to Lord Vader.”
Lucy gave up. “Oh, never mind.”
One of Ellex’s arms, she now noticed, lay along her side, partially obscured by her bulk. But Lucy could tell that she seemed to be holding something with it. Immediately on alert, she pointed at the arm.
“What’s that?”
The lights flicked on completely, and Ellex held out the half-concealed arm towards Lucy. Her hand was clamped around a familiar stick.
Lucy felt her face break into a smile. “You’re giving it back?”
Without preamble, Ellex dropped the stick, and Lucy snatched it out of the air.
“Lord Vader correctly believes that you pose no threat to me, with or without this item,” said Ellex. “Nevertheless, you will be penalized and lose access to all privileges if you make an attack, however futile.”
“I’m not going to attack you,” Lucy said.
“That is good,” said Ellex, “for you.”
Lucy just sighed, then accompanied Ellex to the practice room, her hand wrapped tightly around the stick. She’d never have imagined she could be this relieved about possessing such a trivial thing—even if it was the one thing she possessed at this point. Did it even count as a possession if she only had it because her father said she could?
Yes, Lucy decided. Carefully, she set it down beside her as she stretched out and reached for the Force. In this mood, the Light Side slipped easily into her grasp, and Lucy tilted her head as she let herself follow all the interconnections running through and beyond the castle. Vader seemed both aggravated and faintly confused, and there was something, too, that she couldn’t quite identify. She’d felt it before, a vague awareness with both her mundane senses and the Force that something about him didn’t fit. Something all tangled up with the rest, though, no less intrinsic to him than anger and obstinacy.
The parts of him she understood could be dangerous enough. This seemed like it could be even more so. But was it?
Yes, she felt with total assurance, very dangerous.
But not to her.
-
That night, Lucy was halfway through her mystery eggs when Vader stalked through the door with even less preamble than usual.
Feeling a trace of remorse over the matter of what was, after all, his name, she said evenly,
“Bánad akhtu, Valì.”
Vader looked at Ellex, then at Lucy.
“Bánad akhtu,” he said at last, and Lucy started. “LX-3, guard the door from outside.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Ellex was gone, he strode to his usual spot at the opposite end of the long table. The distance felt particularly far today, his height even more daunting than up close and his intentions even more obscure, but Lucy refused to be intimidated. She finished her eggs, then moved onto munching on a fresh roll of bread, focusing on the taste of the butter.
“You seem to be fully fluent,” said Vader.
Lucy nearly dropped the roll on her plate.
“Yes,” she said instead.
“How did you learn?”
She hesitated, then said, “Aunt Beru.”
“Beru,” he repeated, and added, “I never had a sister.”
“She married Grandmother Shmi’s stepson,” said Lucy.
“Owen?”
“Yes,” Lucy replied, a little surprised. “I … didn’t know you remembered him.”
“It was a memorable occasion,” said Vader. “Now I recall the girl, but my mother died before they must have married.”
Died encompassed a lot, and he said it almost as if it were nothing. But she could feel a sudden burst of revived rage from him, though she couldn’t have said what it was directed at, except away.
It didn’t take much effort to guess what it was. She’d been furious when her uncle and aunt got killed. And she’d be angry if Vader, for all his wrongs and how little she knew him, died in torment. Maybe more than angry. But Shmi—she could only imagine what he had felt that day.
“Aunt Beru was always close to Grandmother,” said Lucy quickly. “I think it might have been how she met Uncle Owen, actually. She learned everything she could from Grandmother, and when they took me in”—she still didn’t know how that had happened, with Anakin still alive—“she tried to pass down everything she knew. She always said that she wasn’t Alsarai, but she wanted to make sure I was. She said it was what Grandmother would have wanted.”
Vader didn’t say anything, but somehow, more words came spilling out of her mouth.
“There was some trouble over the farm when I first came. Uncle Owen only knew a little Alsaraic, but he had to work so much those first few years that he wasn’t around much. I think Aunt Beru made a point of using Alsaraic when we were alone.”
“I see,” said Vader.
“Apparently,” Lucy went on, “when I was little, I kept saying ma, ma. Madam Darklighter—she was a sort of neighbour—thought I was calling Aunt Beru mama. But Aunt Beru always insisted she was my aunt, not my real mother. I was saying ma in Alsaraic.”
“ ‘No,’” he said, sounding almost amused.
“It was my favourite word for awhile,” said Lucy.
“I can imagine that.”
She supposed he could.
“Where are they now?” he asked abruptly. “I know you came from Tatooine.”
Lucy stabbed her roll. “Dead. Stormtroopers killed them to get the Death Star plans. But they failed!”
After a pause, Vader said, “As the Force willed.”
Lucy didn’t think her uncle’s and aunt’s deaths came from the will of the Force. She couldn’t. But everything that had gone wrong for the Empire with the Death Star, that had brought her to that final shot—maybe that was.
“Apparently,” she said.
After a long, near-silence while she ate, Vader said,
“Beru told you she wasn’t your real mother.”
Lucy felt a stirring of hope, however faint. Maybe, at last, she would discover something.
“Yes,” she replied.
He seemed to think this over. “I’m surprised that she remembered Padmé.”
“She didn’t,” said Lucy. “She didn’t even know who my mother was. They met?”
“Briefly,” he said. “Padmé accompanied me to Tatooine when I went to find my mother.”
“They said there was a woman with you,” Lucy said. “But for some reason, they didn’t think she was my mother.”
Reluctantly, almost as if the words were pulled out of him against his will, he said, “We didn’t marry until afterwards, and I was very young—your age.”
“Nineteen?” she said, startled. She couldn’t imagine marrying at her age.
Then again, she couldn’t imagine marrying at all. But that was another matter.
“Yes,” said Vader. He added, “Nearly twenty.”
So he knew her exact age, or something like that. Lucy felt a little gratified, though she wasn’t sure if she should.
“How did you end up with the Rebellion?” he asked abruptly.
Lucy considered, not sure if she should answer that one, but unable to see any harm in it. Maybe he’d use her history against her in some way, but she didn’t see how—and if she wanted more answers from him, probably she had to offer some.
“Ben gave me the lightsaber”—your lightsaber—“and offered to train me,” she replied. “After Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru got killed, I decided to take him up on it. I wanted to be a Jedi like—”
She couldn’t help but break off there.
“Like Obi-Wan,” said Vader.
Lucy’s nerves, soothed by civility, flared back to life again. She hid the burst of anxiety as well as she could, then lifted her eyes and shook her head.
“Like you,” she told her father.
Again, she felt surprise radiating through him. But he said calmly, “Now, you can be.”
“No,” said Lucy. “I can’t.”
-
As usual, Vader simply walked out. Lucy wasn’t quite sure what to make of the oddly amicable conversation, even if it had ended on more or less the same note as ever. At least she knew a little more now.
Her mother had married him, after all. Lucy hadn’t come of some passing entanglement, then, but a years-long partnership between a Jedi and a senator. How strange. She’d thought that Jedi couldn’t marry. But Anakin seemed not one to play by the rules—and perhaps Padmé hadn’t been, either.
Lucy didn’t know. But it seemed like she might have some possibility of finding out. The next time she encountered him, she cut him off before he could say anything.
“What was my mother like?”
He looked at her for a moment, then turned away. With some resignation, Lucy expected that he’d send her off with Ellex, but he said,
“If I tell you, will you turn to the Dark Side?”
“No,” said Lucy.
His respirator cycled a few times. She’d practically grown used to it by now—both the pauses as he considered her and the distinctive forced breaths.
“She was brave,” Vader said. “And stubborn—very stubborn.”
“Maybe I get that one from her,” said Lucy.
“Maybe you do.”
“What else?” she demanded.
Slowly, he said, “She didn’t go looking for trouble, except politically, but she was always ready to fight for what she believed in. Or—not always, perhaps. Often.”
Something about his tone made her wonder about the times when she hadn’t. Maybe Anakin and Padmé hadn’t always believed in the same things. Given that he’d turned into Darth Vader and she’d become a hero of the Rebellion, it seemed likely.
Lucy said, “Was she … I don’t know, temperamental?”
“Not terribly,” he replied. “You don’t get that from her.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Without any kind of preamble, he went on, “The Emperor has begun a new project.”
She stared at him. “Are you betraying the Empire to me?”
“The existence of new projects is hardly a secret,” said Vader. “You should understand, however, that the specifics of this one are a secret—even from me. He must be planning some significant maneuver against the Rebellion.”
Lucy eyed him doubtfully. He didn’t seem to be lying, but she could hardly trust a revelation of this kind. She knew exactly where it was headed.
“The time for your choice is not indefinite,” he added. “And your obstinacy will only doom your Rebellion, not save it.”
“Since when do you care about saving the Rebellion?” said Lucy. “Anyway, I’ve already made my choice, Father.”
“Hardly,” he said.
She folded her arms, only then noticing that he was doing the same thing. It was much more imposing when he did it, she thought irritably. Either way, she said nothing for several minutes, and neither did he; then, following his usual example, she simply walked out.
As was usual for her, she marched off with Ellex to vent her confusion and annoyance in the practice room. She went through her Dagobah routines as closely as she could, repressing her impatience, then gladly shifted to practicing with the stick.
It made a satisfying swish in the air, but that was a far cry from a lightsaber, and the rough wood kept scraping her hand as she constantly adjusted her grip. She focused as fiercely as she could, tuning out the Force and everything else. Forward, parry, stab. Hold, slant, swing. Her footsteps seemed right, or right-ish, but something wasn’t. She scowled.
Concentrating again, Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Vader’s respirator behind her. She whirled around, stick instinctively swinging up to block whatever he might do. At the sight of Vader himself, however, Lucy lowered it. It was ridiculous—his lightsaber or his hands could break it in a moment. It was only good luck that he’d let her have it at all.
“I didn’t hear you,” she said sheepishly.
“I noticed,” said Vader. “What are you doing?”
“Practicing,” she told him, not eager to explain in more detail. The lightsaber might be his, and she might not be angry about him reclaiming it, but that was the reason she had to go through the forms with a stick. It wasn’t like he didn’t have another lightsaber, anyway. He’d just confiscated the first one because he didn’t trust her.
Rightly. But still.
He looked down at her, and then at the stick clutched in her hand.
“Your grip is wrong,” he told her.
“It’s only a stick,” said Lucy.
“Then there isn’t much point in practicing with it,” Vader said.
Fair enough, she decided. Her mouth tugged to the side as she considered him.
“Fine. What’s wrong with my grip?”
“It’s too tight,” he replied, readily enough. Maybe too readily. “A lightsaber’s greatest advantage is in maneuverability.”
“But I’ll drop it,” she protested.
Without the slightest trace of a warning, he reached for her hand and peeled her fingers off the stick, catching it himself as it teetered out of her hand. Then he put it back in her palm and folded her fingers back over it, more loosely.
“Like that,” he said. “And don’t stiffen up your arm.”
Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, then down at her hand. For a moment, she could hardly breathe. Her father was here, alive, teaching her what she’d wanted to know for so long. Her father—
“I won’t turn to the Dark Side,” she said.
“You don’t need the Dark Side to hold a lightsaber correctly,” said Vader dryly.
He walked around and grasped her tense arm.
“Loosen your muscles,” he said. “This is part of the reason you’re having trouble. You’re not able to respond properly, even to your own movements.”
“I …” She shook her head clear. Nothing he’d said sounded like the Dark Side. She’d know, wouldn’t she? She could feel it in him. But she could feel the Light Side in him, too. It was there—jumbled up with the Dark, but there. He didn’t feel angry, either, just focused.
Lucy relaxed her arm, then looked up at her father.
“All right,” she said. “What now?”
verse: Lucy Skywalker: my f!Luke AU, following from The Adventures of Lucy Skywalker and The Imperial Menace
characters: Luke/Lucy Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker; Ellex (LX-3)
stuff that happens: Lucy is presented with opportunity.
previous sections: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Several hours later, Lucy supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that her father had given up his name. Obviously, he’d stopped using it, chosen to put their family and their people behind him to become Darth Vader. She still didn’t know how or why or even when exactly it had happened, but she knew it had. She’d known that from the moment she accepted the truth.
But it was difficult to hear in person.
It was all difficult to hear in person, she thought, her fury finally dwindling to resentment. She could hardly expect captivity to be easy, but she couldn’t have imagined that it would turn around everything she thought she’d known. It still felt colossally unfair. She’d tried to be a good person all her life, even if she had a quick temper and a certain impatience with things that got in her way. Why—
But her father had once been a good person, too. She knew he had. Even Ben said so. What had happened to him? All she knew was that he’d been like this for nearly twenty years, and before that, a Jedi, and before that, a slave.
Lucy felt a prickle of uneasiness. Names could be a messy business in slave families. In all probability, Anakin hadn’t been Anakin at birth, but a series of numbers and letters. Shmi would have named him in secret, until they found themselves with a master who allowed them to indulge in such things. Maybe Anakin had wanted to choose a name freely.
It just—didn’t feel that way.
No, it felt like stomping all over the memory of Shmi, and the memory of her murdered people. Maybe he didn’t care. Then again, maybe he did. Refusing to use names and words didn’t have to mean indifference. He’d refused to speak of Padmé, yet seemed startled and offended that Ben hadn’t mentioned her to Lucy—that wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t indifference that had him walking into toxic air for Lucy and then pretending there’d been no danger.
She didn’t think so, anyway. But her thoughts hadn’t always proved the best guides. Could she trust them?
Maybe not. But she could trust the Force. Lucy scraped up enough patience to wait for the Light Side to stop slipping away, only once opening an eye to make sure Ellex wasn’t about to stun her. At last, she felt it stream and then burn within, pleasant warmth embracing her.
Again, she felt Vader’s presence above and beyond anything else; he was still in the castle. Again, she followed her sense of that presence—and yet, no foreign rush of outrage came over her. He didn’t seem angry at all, just tired.
It made a certain sense that the Dark Side took its toll. Or maybe he’d just worn himself out doing whatever he’d been up to. It shouldn’t really matter to her.
And yet she couldn’t deny an obscure comfort. Whatever else he might feel right now, it wasn’t anger.
Lucy released the Force and yawned, toppling backwards in the bed.
“Goodnight, Ellex,” she said.
Ellex didn’t reply.
-
Lucy woke to all the uncertainties of the day before. Even without actively latching onto the Force, she could tell that Vader was still there, if relatively far from her end of the castle. She thought about it, and then decided against trying to irritate him, instead planning to head out to the practice room. But something seemed different today.
She’d woken earlier than usual, which might be it, but didn’t strike Lucy as a sufficient explanation. Sitting up and peering around, her gaze fell on the droid at her door; even in silhouette, they were much too small to be Ellex.
Lucy felt a flash of horror. She didn’t like Ellex, but she didn’t want anything to happen to her, either. Quickly, she ran through the last few days, trying to unearth anything that could have resulted in Ellex disappearing like Tuvié. Giving up, she said,
“Where’s Ellex?”
The droid at the door gave an assortment of clicks and clanks.
“She-is-con-sult-ting-with-Lord-Va-der.”
“Uh,” said Lucy. “What about?”
“That-is-priv-i-leged-in-for-ma-tion,” the droid returned. “Ad-dit-ion-al-ly-I-do-not-know.”
Okay. This might not be promising, but at least seemed potentially short of disaster. Lucy just gave a nod and headed off to the fresher with the lightest tunic she could find. By the time she’d showered, brushed her teeth, done her best to tie her hair up the way she used to on Tatooine, and emerged from the fresher, the new droid was gone, and Ellex’s hulking form exactly where it always stood.
“Ellex!” Lucy exclaimed. “You’re all right!”
“Why would I be anything other than correct?” said Ellex.
“I didn’t mean that. I’m just glad you weren’t blasted to pieces or something.”
“Blasted to pieces? I do not comprehend your reasoning,” Ellex said, sounding offended. “I am extremely capable of defending myself from attack, and of very high value to Lord Vader.”
Lucy gave up. “Oh, never mind.”
One of Ellex’s arms, she now noticed, lay along her side, partially obscured by her bulk. But Lucy could tell that she seemed to be holding something with it. Immediately on alert, she pointed at the arm.
“What’s that?”
The lights flicked on completely, and Ellex held out the half-concealed arm towards Lucy. Her hand was clamped around a familiar stick.
Lucy felt her face break into a smile. “You’re giving it back?”
Without preamble, Ellex dropped the stick, and Lucy snatched it out of the air.
“Lord Vader correctly believes that you pose no threat to me, with or without this item,” said Ellex. “Nevertheless, you will be penalized and lose access to all privileges if you make an attack, however futile.”
“I’m not going to attack you,” Lucy said.
“That is good,” said Ellex, “for you.”
Lucy just sighed, then accompanied Ellex to the practice room, her hand wrapped tightly around the stick. She’d never have imagined she could be this relieved about possessing such a trivial thing—even if it was the one thing she possessed at this point. Did it even count as a possession if she only had it because her father said she could?
Yes, Lucy decided. Carefully, she set it down beside her as she stretched out and reached for the Force. In this mood, the Light Side slipped easily into her grasp, and Lucy tilted her head as she let herself follow all the interconnections running through and beyond the castle. Vader seemed both aggravated and faintly confused, and there was something, too, that she couldn’t quite identify. She’d felt it before, a vague awareness with both her mundane senses and the Force that something about him didn’t fit. Something all tangled up with the rest, though, no less intrinsic to him than anger and obstinacy.
The parts of him she understood could be dangerous enough. This seemed like it could be even more so. But was it?
Yes, she felt with total assurance, very dangerous.
But not to her.
-
That night, Lucy was halfway through her mystery eggs when Vader stalked through the door with even less preamble than usual.
Feeling a trace of remorse over the matter of what was, after all, his name, she said evenly,
“Bánad akhtu, Valì.”
Vader looked at Ellex, then at Lucy.
“Bánad akhtu,” he said at last, and Lucy started. “LX-3, guard the door from outside.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Ellex was gone, he strode to his usual spot at the opposite end of the long table. The distance felt particularly far today, his height even more daunting than up close and his intentions even more obscure, but Lucy refused to be intimidated. She finished her eggs, then moved onto munching on a fresh roll of bread, focusing on the taste of the butter.
“You seem to be fully fluent,” said Vader.
Lucy nearly dropped the roll on her plate.
“Yes,” she said instead.
“How did you learn?”
She hesitated, then said, “Aunt Beru.”
“Beru,” he repeated, and added, “I never had a sister.”
“She married Grandmother Shmi’s stepson,” said Lucy.
“Owen?”
“Yes,” Lucy replied, a little surprised. “I … didn’t know you remembered him.”
“It was a memorable occasion,” said Vader. “Now I recall the girl, but my mother died before they must have married.”
Died encompassed a lot, and he said it almost as if it were nothing. But she could feel a sudden burst of revived rage from him, though she couldn’t have said what it was directed at, except away.
It didn’t take much effort to guess what it was. She’d been furious when her uncle and aunt got killed. And she’d be angry if Vader, for all his wrongs and how little she knew him, died in torment. Maybe more than angry. But Shmi—she could only imagine what he had felt that day.
“Aunt Beru was always close to Grandmother,” said Lucy quickly. “I think it might have been how she met Uncle Owen, actually. She learned everything she could from Grandmother, and when they took me in”—she still didn’t know how that had happened, with Anakin still alive—“she tried to pass down everything she knew. She always said that she wasn’t Alsarai, but she wanted to make sure I was. She said it was what Grandmother would have wanted.”
Vader didn’t say anything, but somehow, more words came spilling out of her mouth.
“There was some trouble over the farm when I first came. Uncle Owen only knew a little Alsaraic, but he had to work so much those first few years that he wasn’t around much. I think Aunt Beru made a point of using Alsaraic when we were alone.”
“I see,” said Vader.
“Apparently,” Lucy went on, “when I was little, I kept saying ma, ma. Madam Darklighter—she was a sort of neighbour—thought I was calling Aunt Beru mama. But Aunt Beru always insisted she was my aunt, not my real mother. I was saying ma in Alsaraic.”
“ ‘No,’” he said, sounding almost amused.
“It was my favourite word for awhile,” said Lucy.
“I can imagine that.”
She supposed he could.
“Where are they now?” he asked abruptly. “I know you came from Tatooine.”
Lucy stabbed her roll. “Dead. Stormtroopers killed them to get the Death Star plans. But they failed!”
After a pause, Vader said, “As the Force willed.”
Lucy didn’t think her uncle’s and aunt’s deaths came from the will of the Force. She couldn’t. But everything that had gone wrong for the Empire with the Death Star, that had brought her to that final shot—maybe that was.
“Apparently,” she said.
After a long, near-silence while she ate, Vader said,
“Beru told you she wasn’t your real mother.”
Lucy felt a stirring of hope, however faint. Maybe, at last, she would discover something.
“Yes,” she replied.
He seemed to think this over. “I’m surprised that she remembered Padmé.”
“She didn’t,” said Lucy. “She didn’t even know who my mother was. They met?”
“Briefly,” he said. “Padmé accompanied me to Tatooine when I went to find my mother.”
“They said there was a woman with you,” Lucy said. “But for some reason, they didn’t think she was my mother.”
Reluctantly, almost as if the words were pulled out of him against his will, he said, “We didn’t marry until afterwards, and I was very young—your age.”
“Nineteen?” she said, startled. She couldn’t imagine marrying at her age.
Then again, she couldn’t imagine marrying at all. But that was another matter.
“Yes,” said Vader. He added, “Nearly twenty.”
So he knew her exact age, or something like that. Lucy felt a little gratified, though she wasn’t sure if she should.
“How did you end up with the Rebellion?” he asked abruptly.
Lucy considered, not sure if she should answer that one, but unable to see any harm in it. Maybe he’d use her history against her in some way, but she didn’t see how—and if she wanted more answers from him, probably she had to offer some.
“Ben gave me the lightsaber”—your lightsaber—“and offered to train me,” she replied. “After Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru got killed, I decided to take him up on it. I wanted to be a Jedi like—”
She couldn’t help but break off there.
“Like Obi-Wan,” said Vader.
Lucy’s nerves, soothed by civility, flared back to life again. She hid the burst of anxiety as well as she could, then lifted her eyes and shook her head.
“Like you,” she told her father.
Again, she felt surprise radiating through him. But he said calmly, “Now, you can be.”
“No,” said Lucy. “I can’t.”
-
As usual, Vader simply walked out. Lucy wasn’t quite sure what to make of the oddly amicable conversation, even if it had ended on more or less the same note as ever. At least she knew a little more now.
Her mother had married him, after all. Lucy hadn’t come of some passing entanglement, then, but a years-long partnership between a Jedi and a senator. How strange. She’d thought that Jedi couldn’t marry. But Anakin seemed not one to play by the rules—and perhaps Padmé hadn’t been, either.
Lucy didn’t know. But it seemed like she might have some possibility of finding out. The next time she encountered him, she cut him off before he could say anything.
“What was my mother like?”
He looked at her for a moment, then turned away. With some resignation, Lucy expected that he’d send her off with Ellex, but he said,
“If I tell you, will you turn to the Dark Side?”
“No,” said Lucy.
His respirator cycled a few times. She’d practically grown used to it by now—both the pauses as he considered her and the distinctive forced breaths.
“She was brave,” Vader said. “And stubborn—very stubborn.”
“Maybe I get that one from her,” said Lucy.
“Maybe you do.”
“What else?” she demanded.
Slowly, he said, “She didn’t go looking for trouble, except politically, but she was always ready to fight for what she believed in. Or—not always, perhaps. Often.”
Something about his tone made her wonder about the times when she hadn’t. Maybe Anakin and Padmé hadn’t always believed in the same things. Given that he’d turned into Darth Vader and she’d become a hero of the Rebellion, it seemed likely.
Lucy said, “Was she … I don’t know, temperamental?”
“Not terribly,” he replied. “You don’t get that from her.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Without any kind of preamble, he went on, “The Emperor has begun a new project.”
She stared at him. “Are you betraying the Empire to me?”
“The existence of new projects is hardly a secret,” said Vader. “You should understand, however, that the specifics of this one are a secret—even from me. He must be planning some significant maneuver against the Rebellion.”
Lucy eyed him doubtfully. He didn’t seem to be lying, but she could hardly trust a revelation of this kind. She knew exactly where it was headed.
“The time for your choice is not indefinite,” he added. “And your obstinacy will only doom your Rebellion, not save it.”
“Since when do you care about saving the Rebellion?” said Lucy. “Anyway, I’ve already made my choice, Father.”
“Hardly,” he said.
She folded her arms, only then noticing that he was doing the same thing. It was much more imposing when he did it, she thought irritably. Either way, she said nothing for several minutes, and neither did he; then, following his usual example, she simply walked out.
As was usual for her, she marched off with Ellex to vent her confusion and annoyance in the practice room. She went through her Dagobah routines as closely as she could, repressing her impatience, then gladly shifted to practicing with the stick.
It made a satisfying swish in the air, but that was a far cry from a lightsaber, and the rough wood kept scraping her hand as she constantly adjusted her grip. She focused as fiercely as she could, tuning out the Force and everything else. Forward, parry, stab. Hold, slant, swing. Her footsteps seemed right, or right-ish, but something wasn’t. She scowled.
Concentrating again, Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Vader’s respirator behind her. She whirled around, stick instinctively swinging up to block whatever he might do. At the sight of Vader himself, however, Lucy lowered it. It was ridiculous—his lightsaber or his hands could break it in a moment. It was only good luck that he’d let her have it at all.
“I didn’t hear you,” she said sheepishly.
“I noticed,” said Vader. “What are you doing?”
“Practicing,” she told him, not eager to explain in more detail. The lightsaber might be his, and she might not be angry about him reclaiming it, but that was the reason she had to go through the forms with a stick. It wasn’t like he didn’t have another lightsaber, anyway. He’d just confiscated the first one because he didn’t trust her.
Rightly. But still.
He looked down at her, and then at the stick clutched in her hand.
“Your grip is wrong,” he told her.
“It’s only a stick,” said Lucy.
“Then there isn’t much point in practicing with it,” Vader said.
Fair enough, she decided. Her mouth tugged to the side as she considered him.
“Fine. What’s wrong with my grip?”
“It’s too tight,” he replied, readily enough. Maybe too readily. “A lightsaber’s greatest advantage is in maneuverability.”
“But I’ll drop it,” she protested.
Without the slightest trace of a warning, he reached for her hand and peeled her fingers off the stick, catching it himself as it teetered out of her hand. Then he put it back in her palm and folded her fingers back over it, more loosely.
“Like that,” he said. “And don’t stiffen up your arm.”
Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, then down at her hand. For a moment, she could hardly breathe. Her father was here, alive, teaching her what she’d wanted to know for so long. Her father—
“I won’t turn to the Dark Side,” she said.
“You don’t need the Dark Side to hold a lightsaber correctly,” said Vader dryly.
He walked around and grasped her tense arm.
“Loosen your muscles,” he said. “This is part of the reason you’re having trouble. You’re not able to respond properly, even to your own movements.”
“I …” She shook her head clear. Nothing he’d said sounded like the Dark Side. She’d know, wouldn’t she? She could feel it in him. But she could feel the Light Side in him, too. It was there—jumbled up with the Dark, but there. He didn’t feel angry, either, just focused.
Lucy relaxed her arm, then looked up at her father.
“All right,” she said. “What now?”