hisfathersimage | PSL: Naboo

Entry tags:

psl: nouskaiananki

PSL: Naboo

Luke ignored Vader for the rest of the trip.

For a moment, he had almost forgotten who and what he was dealing with. A totally self centred, self absorbed creature of darkness, boiled in rage and suffering who wanted him to convert to his way of thinking and start up a second reign of terror and horror after killing Palpatine.

And in aid of doing that, they were going... to Naboo?

He wasn't really sure why they were on their way there. It was his mother's home world. It was Palpatine's home world. It was a paradise of water and greenery that had produced something so rotten and evil that the galaxy heaved to try and dislodge it from itself.

He stands in the cockpit's doorway, nursing his stump in his left hand and watching hyperspace, preparing for the shock of dropping back out again.

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It... doesn't really mean anything to Luke.

He thinks maybe it should, but this life is so far removed from anything he understands and a woman he only learned of days earlier that it just fails to connect to anything in him. It might also be the lingering shock of everything that's happened, but he somehow doesn't think so.

He does look. Wanders through these impersonal areas and looks at the objects that would have bought a family's freedom back home. He is curious, but he doesn't feel anything.

Several of them did buy families freedom, not that either of them are aware.

Vader stays close, watching Luke, but also looking. Occasionally glaring at a piece that hits a memory too hard.

Once they have wandered back, Vader opens a door and pulls Luke through. Here, the personal rooms are hidden away.

A dining room, open and airy, able to be opened to the outside. A kitchen obviously set up to be used. A sitting room, a study, bedrooms. One door, ornately carved, fabric torn from black lace and deep red velvet tied around the handle. That's new, in a way - not here when he was here last - but the fabric itself is old.

Vader puts a hand on the door and leans his head against it. Rests.

Then turns to the door perpendicular to it and presses the doors open.

Unlike the others, it's not finished. A mural is started, Naboo's hills and rivers spilling over the walls, star maps started, figures outlined by not finished, ghostly in their appearance. The windows large and lighting the room with golden light. Some furniture, a chaise, a rocking chair, paints long dried out, brushes rotting, a beautifully woven wicker basket on the floor, lined with soft cloth and filled with tiny bundles fabric. A dark, agonist black pile of woolen fabric near a ladder. A crib, in pieces, never put together.

It's interesting.

Until the nursery.

Luke stops at the door. He can't explain why, but he doesn't want to go in there, into a room that was being finished for a baby who would never grow up there. It feels like he shouldn't be there, because he wasn't there when he was meant to be.

"I'm not going in there," he tells Vader.

It's the first thing he's said since they came here.

It seems at first like Vader doesn't hear him. It was how it had been when Padmé and Anakin Skywalker had last been here. He's sure of it, circling room, fingers touching the walls, faint outlines of the mural still marked but never finished.

Overhead star maps making routes they'd planned to take, places to show off their family, oncethey could.

"Why not? I told you you were wanted."

"I believe you. I don't want to." He turns away from the nursery, walking back towards the kitchen area. Kitchens were the heart of any home.

Vader doesn't follow, at least not immediately. He lingers in the room, an all too familiar ache washing over him.

Twenty-five years he'd mourned a child and a wife, when he been lied to. Somehow that didn't erase the mourning he'd already done.

Eventually he started towards again. "Do not want to what?" Believe him or walk in.

Luke has sat himself in the kitchen. Everything is too clean and empty, unlived in, but it's at least something vaguely familiar.

"Go in there. I don't want to go into a room that's like a memorial for a child that could have happened. Especially knowing that child was me."

"You did happen. You were stolen but you happened." It had been bothered him for months.

He had knows she was alive, he'd felt it, until he arrested, died, on that table. He been unable to sense she wasn't when he'd came to. But Palatine had known. But hadn't known their child lived. It was a mystery he doesn't like.

"That child never happened. The one she dreamed of raising."

The future had died when Anakin decided to throw his lot in with the Dark side. When he killed children who should have had a future, who maybe should have been his play mates growing up.

"I wasn't stolen. She gave me to someone she trusted to keep me safe. From you and your owner."

"She wouldn't have sent you to Tattooine." He is unshakeably sure of that. It hadn't been Padmé who had sent Luke to that wasteland. "She had other people, people she knew."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Point is, she wanted me far away from you and your owner. And if that meant Tatooine, it meant Tatooine."

Luke has faith in this. Mothers wants their children safe and loved. And he was.

"She wanted me to leave with her." She'd have never sent her child away. Family was too important to her. "She wasn't afraid of me." Upset with him yes.

Plotting against him? Maybe. But never afraid of him.

"She might have thought you were dead," he concedes. "Which made keeping me from the Emperor even more important."

"Only if someone lied to her. Obi-Wan knew I was alive when he left." There's real anger to his tone: deceit, lies, betrayal. Things he didn't forgive.

Yes, they must have lied to her.

"And we're back to, even if she wasn't scared of you, it doesn't mean she wanted you raising a child when you more than willing to kill children. Or that she wanted me raised around the Emperor, after what he'd done to you!"

"She knew. She still wanted us to raise our child together." Luke can believe it or not - but she had wanted that.

"I never planned on you growing up around him regardless. I told her that as well."

Luke doesn't believe it.

"I'm glad you didn't. It might not have had luxuries, but I grew up happy and loved."

"I was only keeping him alive until you were safely born. After she died, so did my use for him." Given how much he hates Palpatine, how much he wants to kill him, is there any question why the Force moved so Darkly as he said that?

"You would have grown up loved and happy. And safe with us."

"If wishes were water, Tatooine would be an ocean," Luke snarks. "There's no benefit in just chewing over what happened again and again and again. It's like picking at scabs, instead of a nice little scar, you end up with infections and bleeding and more mess than ever."

Tell that to the Force. "The Force continues to show me visions of the three of us, together and happy."

He'd assumed it was taunting, showing him with the son Padmé prophesied. Seemed not.

"Sure, it's not at all responding to you dwelling and obsessing and using it to fuel your own darkness."

"There are other ways to do that."

Not that he wasn't dwelling, not that he didn't obsess. But there are other ways to funnel one's focus other than showing them how it could have worked.

"There is still running water, if you want fresh." Instead of what was on the ship - he cab pick up the water moving in the pipes.

"Or need the refresher."

"I need to get clearance to have a proper shower with this." He lifts his stump, with the medical apparatus still attached. "And I'm not sure there's much point washing when all I have to put on after is dirty and cut up clothing."

"There are sonics as well, but I can hail Bee Two." And deliver a message to bring whatever was needed for Luke to shower.

Vader slightly turns his head back towards the bedrooms. "Clothing isn't an issue."

Fantastic dresses just seemed to happen on Naboo. Anakin had one thought.

There was clothing, fabric, and sewing bots - repairing and getting new clothing wasn't a problem here.

"I don't want a sonic."

He wants to feel clean. Even if it's awkward to manage, he wants a shower with water and to clean himself from top to bottom.

"Isn't it? Because everything I have, I'm wearing. Unless you want me to raid Padme's wardrobe." And he's assuming that that is sacrosanct.

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