Chapter Text
Fool. Absolute fool.
That as the Sith's thoughts when he saw the young Jedi push his friends to run off while he stayed behind. This boy had claimed to be a Jedi, or was, at the very least, pretending to come off as one as he swirled that lightsaber in his hands, ready to fight. Though, anyone who dared to duel with Vader stood little to no chance at survival. Vader, in any duel he was in, came to draw blood. The boy in front of him was pathetic, his stance was awkward, his legs were trembling and yet he tried to come off as brave.
Child's play really.
"You do not wield that weapon properly," Vader spoke, towering over the small blonde. "You, child, are no Jedi. Tell me your name." The boy had to of been a child. he was so small and tiny. The top of his head barely came up to Vader's chest and from what Vader could see, the boy's neck and wrists were so thin they appeared to be as strong as toothpicks. Either the boy was starved or is starving himself. Vader normally towered over most individuals he'd come across, but this boy made him feel like a giant. Vader grew impatient as the boy said nothing but tiny grunts and gasps as they dueled.
"Tell me your name." Vader demanded at once.
"You killed my father!" the boy shouted back. It wasn't really an answer, but at least Vader knew that the boy was fighting him out of a moment of revenge it seems. Vader scoffed, wanting to roll his eyes. Like he hadn't heard that before.
"I have killed many fathers." He spoke as if stating fact thought the young Jedi took it as gloating. "Be more specific."
The small blonde boy grit his teeth as rage engulfed him and he lunged forward, swinging the blue light saber as quickly as he could. Vader stood still, parrying every movement. The boy was too predictable. Clearly, he had not have much training or his trainer was behind the times. With his large gloved hand, he used the force to push the child away from him, landing him on his back and the lightsaber fell from his hands. The kid coughed, it appeared Vader had, literally, knocked the wind out of him. Vader strolled to the boy, his bright red saber glowing with malice and humming. He pointed it at the boy on the ground.
"You have chosen a foolish way to die. To allow your pathetic friends to live while you suffered." Vader wasn't lecturing him, he was only pointing out the flaws in Luke's plan. Though, that's not how Luke saw it.
"You're wrong!' He screamed, trembling with fear but courageous enough to not beg for his life. If he died then he'd die knowing his friends escaped. "My friends will restore democracy! they'll take down this stupid empire! I was on the Death Star when I saw Master Kenobi be killed by you and I'll make sure you die with this Empire and it's evil Emperor!"
Vader scoffed again. "You're nothing more than a child-"
"-I'm nearly eighteen!"
"-and yet." Vader pushed Luke, making the boy stumble. "You cannot properly wield that weapon. I should have known." Vader nodded to the kilt of the inactivated lightsaber laying just inches away from Luke's grasp. Luke cursed himself as Vader kept him pinned to the floor. If he were only a few inches taller he could grab his dad's saber and fight back. Vader continued to taunt Luke. "It's a shame Obi-Wan never taught you how to properly use this weapon. He did you an injustice. Because of that, you will perish."
Luke snarled. "Don't speak of Master Kenobi! He was braver, stronger and--"
"He's also dead by my hand. If he was your master, than he was pathetic. What hope do you have with a dead master? You will be too if you do not inform me of the Rebel pilot who destroyed the Death Star as well." That threat was not light. Trillions of credit, years of planning and millions of lives were lost, giving the Rebels and advantage over the Empire. Han was going to kill him for "opening that big mouth" again and Leia would be so dissapointed he was giving himself up as live bait. But it was Luke's turn to be smug.
"You've got him."
The room dropped to an icy chill as Vader's lividness was felt in the Force. The tall man reached his hand out again, pulling the saber towards him and Luke bit his lip watching his father's saber, the man he never knew but loved more than anything, be activated next to Vader's own red weapon. Just as Vader was about to smite him, the man paused Luke grew worried. He was on the edge of death and now his (soon to be) killer paused.
"Where did you get this?" He demanded.
Luke remained defiantly silent. Why Vader had recognized his father's saber was unbeknownst to him. Perhaps his father had put up a strong duel with Vader before. He liked to believe that little theory. The boy also felt uncomfortable with the silence, the sound of Vader's respirator being the only sound. Why the man kept staring at him was irritating. Vader gripped the saber slightly, using the Force to keep Luke paralyzed to the ground. He turned to the boy, making out his features: Those piercing blue eyes for starters, though much bigger and brighter due to his youth, he couldn't deny. Then there was the furrowed brow line Vader had seen in his own reflection. But then he saw the chin, the sharp cheekbones, the pointed nose and it was as if he were looking right at her.
As if that wasn't enough to convince Vader, he felt it. The small hazy warmth that he had only heard or read about. It wasn't an overpowering light, but rather a warm, gentle one, at the beginning of sunrise, full of promise and excitement.
The boy was given less than half a moments warning before a haze littered his eyes and he felt drowsy. Luke bitterly accepted his fate into unconsciousness.
Darth Vader had a reputation of being merciless towards interrogating prisoners' as much as he was in battle with them. So it was odd when Firmus Piett was approached by the tall man as he stood behind a group of of stormtroopers wheeling what appeared to be a small boy on a stretcher to the medical wing on the Devastator into the hospital wing; what was even more odd was when Vader asked Piett to begin a blood test.
Again, Piett had seen some peculiar things in his life, but this had to take the cake. Piett had seen the horrors that war could bring and the patriotism that came with a building new Empire; and not to mention the countless time's he's spotted seeing Vader crush his enemies in too often barbaric ways of torture was enough to make him queasy. Though, seeing Vader had spared the life, more or less told commanding officers to direct the individual to emergency care of an obvious Rebel pilot was....interesting to say the least. Even more so when the large man didn't turn away until the crew followed by medical droids were out of sight. Nevertheless Piett kept his mouth shut, trying to focus on the Datapad requsting information for a blood sample and not notice the small blonde. He couldn't have been older than a teenager in his opinion.
Vader, on the other hand, needed a break. He hated to admit it to himself, but his prosthetics ached and it had been too long since he had a bacta soak. He had been too busy hunting down the rebel that blew up the Death Star. The large man sat down slowly next to the bacta tank, the glow from the medicine inside beaming the room in a gentle teal hue.
"Sir, the blood sample is ready to be drawn." Piett spoke as a small delivery droid entered the room.
Vader said nothing, but sat straight, ignoring the aches in his thighs and limbs. Vader looked into the Force. It never lied. It never betrayed him. It spoke only truths and accomplishments. He closed his eyes, waiting. There it was, a soft hue, a pale yellow, dim, but as warm as the burning sad on bare feet of Tatooine. The sound of a small silver bell ringing heard in the distance and all at once, the Force was engulfing Vader in a wrap of....innocence. It was childish, youthful, and curious. It haunted Vader. For nearly seventeen years he had been distraught in secret by this dream; it was, he once believed, torment for his past failure to save his wife and unborn child. Doomed he would be for the rest of his miserable life to endure the imagery of an unborn child that resembled her in spirit and kindness, but with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes that called to him laughing, racing with his tiny arms to be lifted and held.
"Daddy!"
Vader's eyes snapped open. There had been a connection formed. The hissing of Vader's respiratory machine and the droid whirling about were the only noise in the whole room as Vader sat still, his own blood drawn. This was for record confirmation, Vader told himself. Once the droid was finished colleting the blood sample, Vader instructed the Droid to enter the Rebel's room and take a sample as well. Piett's eyebrow raised though he said nothing.
Today was, nonetheless, going to be interesting something told him.
Luke's eyes opened slowly only a few moments after he had awaken. His head hurt and he felt delusional. All around him were blurs and the lights, though dimmed, didn't help in telling him where he was at. He blinked, trying to wake himself up. From what he could tell he was in a room of bare concrete walls, small lights on each wall and lying in a bed that felt as comfortable as the apparent stone floor beneath him. That wasn't all, he appeared to be chained to the bed, his wrists and ankles locked against metal bar rails on the side of him. He winced, trying to sit up. He was still in his filthy clothes and smelled awful.
The teen wasn't so sure if waking up was a good sign or not. On one hand, he was alive, on the other who knows what horrors would happen to him when Vader walks in. Luke knew he would. It was Darth Vader, he wouldn't spare the life of a rebel pilot who destroyed his precious Death Star. Luke winced again as he tried to pull the cuffs and chains loose, hoping they'd be made out of some scrap metal or just rusted enough for him to do so. When neither worked and he was becoming bruised, he stopped. Concentrating as hard as he could to use the Force, he paused when he felt a shivering coldness travel down his spine. Physically, he shivered. It was as if he had laid his naked body on an ice block, his skin burned and his bones felt they would crack like an ice sickle. The chains rattling against the metal.
It felt like the room had dropped to freezing.
What was that? Luke asked himself. That was in the Force.
His breathing slowed when he heard footsteps marching in an orderly fashion to the door of his (cell?) room. Immediately, the door raised and there, in the flesh black suit and all, was him. Fear replaced anxiousness in the teen as Luke scrambled to try and get himself free when he realized his lightsaber wasn't attached to his hip. That's right, he recalled. Bucket-head stole it.
"If you want to be taken seriously, I suggest you stop with the childish name calling." Vader spoke, his deep voice cutting into Luke. Luke's wide blue eyes blinked.
"Ho-How did you?" He didn't finished.
"You are projecting your thoughts. I assume that pitiful master of yours failed to teach or even tell you that Force Sensitive Younglings like yourself have no control over their thoughts projecting loudly." Vader seethed. Luke glared, quick to defend his former Master and ignore everything Vader just said to him.
"Don't you dare speak of him!" Luke shouted, the icy chill in the room turning colder (if it were possible) and an unmistaken fury mixed in with annoyance came from Vader. It soaked Luke.
"Obi-Wan was a coward and weak," Vader began as he stood bedside to Luke, ignoring the boy's discomfort. It would all make sense soon. "And he was a thief above all else. He took what was mine."
Luke scoffed. "If he was a thief-- which he wasn't--he probably stole it back!" Vader didn't hide his annoyance at the young pilot and kept his arms firmly behind his back, almost restraining himself.
"And it seems he still spread those lies the Jedi still stick by," Vader grit his teeth. "What he's said to you is none of my concern." Finally the tall man released his arms, revealing the lightsaber that belonged to Luke, to Anakin. Luke gasped. Vader didn't miss the little sparkle that twinkled in Luke's bright blue eyes as he spotted the familiar silver kilt of the saber. Vader could easily read Luke's mind.
Where did you get this? He asked threw the Force.
Luke winced, shielding his eyes as best as he could. It felt like someone had taken an ice pick and jammed it in his brain. "Stop that!" He demanded. "Get out of my head!"
Vader glanced down at the saber. "Do you know how I am able to do that?" He asked, gently. That threw a monkey wrench in Luke's system. An arrogant villian he was accustom to, but hearing Vader speak calmly was new and he hoped it wouldn't last. Luke stayed quiet as the tall man continued to loom over his bedside. "Force Sensitive Children, such as yourself, with training, learn to sense and manipulate the Force. Force-sensitives who gained powers and abilities through the Force become Force Adepts." Vader wasn't lecturing him, Luke knew, the way the giant man spoke was as if he were recalling words from a text. As if he had been drilled this information for years.
"The Jedi once pondered on the notion that having the ability to use the force was hereditary. They were wrong." Vader began to stroll closer to Luke, causing the boy to wince when Vader pressed his gloved hand to his forehead pressing his temple enough to not cause pain, but get a good grip. "It's not hereditary. It's a direct line. Force Sensitive children have parents who can wield the Force."
"Why are you telling me this? Don't touch me!" Luke begged, trying to shake his head away from Vader.
"Search your feelings," Vader spoke, what he said next was riddled with spite, "For answers Obi-Wan never told you."
Luke tried to steady his breathing as Vader gave his head a small squeeze and with a sudden flash he felt it. The icy cold and powerful feeling, it was Vader. His Force tendrils wrapping around Luke possessively, protectively. It was suffocating. Why? Why was he doing this? Why is he not killing me? Luke wondered. This made no sense. Vader's voice echoed in his head, the noise coming from every angle. Search your feelings.
A connection wasn't made, rather it was recognized. Like seeing a long, lost beloved friend after years apart. The Force blended perfectly in the middle of that connection, Luke's warmth to Vader's icy chill to create a bondage that was unbreakable. That was true. Vader's hand slowly left Luke's head. The smaller boy's iris' were wide and his eyes were blotchy as fat, wet tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. He didn't blink. His heart raced as he slowly glance up at the man that was Darth Vader.
That was his father.
"No . . . . no you can't be!" Luke's bottom lip trembled. "That's impossible!"
"it is true, Luke. I am your father," Vader held out the Saber, activating it. "Obi-Wan stole this from me as he left me to burn to death." Then, he deactivated the lightsaber, strapping it back to his hip next to his own.
"I don't believe you..." Luke growled. "You liar!" Vader narrowed his eyes, though Luke didn't see anything behind the glossy mask. "This is your Sith work! You're tricking me!-"
Vader immediately crouched down, placing both of his hands on the metal rails alongside Luke's bed, hovering over the boy. His tone firm, and dare Luke say, longing: "You know exactly what you saw moments ago. You felt it just as I did. That, Rebel, was our connection. One that formed since your birth unknowing to either of us." The last part caught Luke off guard. Vader almost pleaded. Vader's Force tendrils coiled around Luke, slithering up his arms and legs, paralyzing him as they did not but a few hours ago. The Force made Luke want to shiver as the possessive waves hit him.
"Too long have I been tormented," Vader spoke, the Force around him causing what felt like a windstorm in the room, "Obi-Wan dug his grave the moment he betrayed me, but I curse him an agonizing pain in Siths Hell for the fact he stole my child from me!"
Luke gulped, fear entangling him and Vader felt it too. The force Tendrils gripped Luke harshly, causing the boy to cry out in pain. Vader lowered his shoulders, the wind ceased. The man removed his hands from the bars to reach out to his son, his child, his baby. Even though his gloved hand, he could feel Luke's skin was silky soft. There was a trace of baby fat on his cheeks but his wrists were so thin. Luke bit his trembling bottom lip, ceasing when Vader brushed a thumb across to make him stop the habit.
"What," he started, one hand stroking Luke's cheek with his flesh hand the other placed tenderly behind Luke's blonde sweaty hair, "what is your name?" He asked, tenderly. Again, his voice was so unbelievably deep, like an undisturbed ocean though as soft and gentle as a dove feather. And, dare Luke believe, comforting. Luke tried to get in touch with the Force, but there it was, that bond. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a Sith trick.
The Force, Obi-Wan had told him, is everything.
Luke's eyes always betrayed him, even when he was a small child. He was such a crybaby and teared up at the smallest inconvenience. Uncle Owen had said it was because of puberty and he'd grow into a man and get out of that nonsense. Aunt Beru had been the one who was correct. She'd smile at Luke and say "No, Owen. It's because he's a boy with a heart bigger than the sun." His eyes were no different this time as a new wave of fresh tears shed and dripped down his cheeks, his jaw and into the whisps of his golden thread hair.
"Your name, child." Vader spoke again.
Luke's throat felt dry as he began speaking.
"L-Luke. . .My name is Luke Skywalker." Luke. the teen heard his name through the Force. It wasn't a pleasurable noise hearing Darth Vader say his name. In fact, it felt like an invasion of privacy (or at the very least putting his safety in jeopardy). The tendrils ceased to paralyze Luke, but they didn't leave his body as Vader leaned back to stand up and look down at his son. This had Luke wondering, was this the first time Darth Vader wasn't on a murderous rampage? Luke gulped. This man, Vader, was Anakin, was his father. Realization and acceptance were two different things and Luke was suddenly accepting the latter.
"You. . . you're Anakin." Luke whimpered, Darth Vader turned away, but only for a moment as if to collect himself. Darth Vader turned back to deny Luke that was his name. "I have gotten rid of that name. It holds no meaning to me." Was all he said, though he wasn't angry. Luke gulped. All his life he knew Anakin Skywalker, the pilot who died in the wars. And yet, here in front of him was the man who was undoubtedly his father, but he knew nothing about him. It was as if Luke found it easier to believe a fictional tale rather than the hard ugly truth.
Perhaps, he wondered, if his father could be saved.
"P-Please, let me go." Luke whimpered.
Vader growled. "No. Not for you to run back to that Rebel base. You will not return there every again. You belong by my side." That possessiveness was back and the tendrils resumed their light squeeze on Luke's body.
Luke's eyes widened. "I. .. I can save you!" Luke insisted.
"There is nothing to be saved." Vader crossed his arms, seething. "I am the most powerful being in the galaxy behind the Emperor. Once I establish my rightful place at the top of this galaxy, of this Empire, I will rule with you by my side as my son. As the imperial Prince." Vader's words were like bleach and alcohol, making Luke dizzy at the words the man, his father, was speaking. He didn't even catch the threat Vader just said about "establishing his right at the top" and giving Palpatine the boot. The teen wasted no time in interrupting the man and shouting, "NO!" Vader didn't flinch, he felt Luke's turmoil through their bond. Honestly, the kid wouldn't be able to hide anything from him now.
Luke was seething this time.
"I refuse to be apart of something that destroys innocent lives!" Luke shouted. "I hate the Empire. I want to see it burn! I'll never stop fighting with my friends or to save lives and avenge those that died for nothing!" Like Auntie and Uncle....
Vader grew angry. Whoever this Auntie and Uncle were he'd make sure Luke wouldn't give so much as a second thought to them. He was this child's father. He would make sure Luke will never put that much trust in a different parent figure ever again. "It will never be destroyed. When I rule, I will be ten times stronger than the worm that its on the throne." Vader growled as the tendrils wrapped around Luke forced the boy to sit up. Luke began to shiver. The room was to cold as Vader's force imploded. "Do not even think about running away, child. I will hunt you down on every planet, every star if I must."
Luke knew that wasn't a threat. It was a promise.
He felt trapped. The idea of not being able to leave was even worse than leaving and possibly having innocent planets raided or, Force forbid, destroyed because Vader was on a war path to make sure his teenage son was in viewpoint at all times. Luke couldn't hold back his choked sobs, he tried effortlessly to yank on the chains on the bed to leave, it was a pitiful move really and Vader know it. He reached out to gently hold his son's tiny wrist and frowned.
"You've hurt yourself." He spoke, astonished and worried. Luke gulped. Vader sounded like his Aunt did that one time he came home scraped up from fooling around with a speedster. He watched as Vader gently inspected the area before walking to the door where a small panel was hooked on the wall that summoned a medic droid. The droid must have been outside because immediately one arrived with bacta patches and Luke was uncuffed and all his red bruises were tended to. Though Vader's force was still wrapped around him. Almost as if Vader knew Luke would try and take the fool's chance at running.
Vader lowered one of the side rails, giving him a chance to sit next to his child. Luke tensed as Vader removed a glove, revealing his pale hand. That hand was used to stroke Luke's hair, to brush it back, run a finger along the teen's jaw and brush a few strands behind the tiny ear on Luke's head.
"I will have more droids do a full check up on you. I will know everything from a tiny splinter to a deadly allergy you have. The harm Obi-Wan has done to you will soon be tamable." Vader vowed.
Luke frowned. "What are you talking about? He never laid a finger on me."
Vader was glad about that. "You are so gifted with the Force on a dust ball of a planet where no one would ever understand what you were going through. I've said this before but I hear all of your thoughts. No one else can because they are not gifted with The Force. A child, all alone aimlessly wandering about would do exactly what you are doing now: screaming your thoughts to be found, to be heard. Where Obi-Wan failed is realizing that Force bonds, especially between parent and child, are for eternity. You have been calling for me Luke for years."
The teenager shook his head. "But that' not true. I was told you were dead and I accepted it! Sure, I was upset when I was told as a kid, but. . .." He trailed off, remembering how upset he was when Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru sat him down at the dinner table after a bad day at school where little Luke was ridiculed and picked on for not having parents. His mother, they knew nothing about but was told she was dead and his father died before he was born. He had cried for day after that. And something inside him felt torn. Luke thought back further. Had that been him calling out? The way Vader just explained now? That feeling technically never really left him, it just gradually dimmer over time. But now, it was gone. That pain of being alone. Because he had found the truth within The Force.
He hadn't noticed when Vader wrapped his flesh arm around him, pulling him in close until Luke's cheek gently snuggled against Vader's breast plate.
"I assure you, child. I am very much alive. Force bonds are unbreakable and powerful. You are the child your mother and I made out of pure love and was more than likely formed during your first heartbeats." Vader was so gently in holding him close, Luke trembled. He hadn't been held like this since he was very Young. Aunt Beru had to work often but would try to give a hug goodnight when he was young and Uncle Owen wasn't exactly affectionate aside maybe from a handshake, but this. This was new for Luke. This was the safest he's every felt in his whole life and it took him a moment to realize that he was feeling this way because Vader was sending a copious amount of affection threw the force.
Love. . . Luke dared to look up at the mask of Darth Vader. His father.
"Yes, my child. I love you more than anything in this whole Galaxy," Vader spoke, his voice gentle, but loud enough to be heard of his respirator. "And that, is not a lie."
It wasn't. Luke hiccupped, his eyes threatening to spill more tears. His father was alive. His father was Darth Vader. His father loved him. He wasn't alone.
Shamefully, Luke bawled. Bawled like a newborn. His right hand gripped into a fist and his face turned into his father's chest. Luke couldn't comprehend why he was doing this but Vader felt it through their bond. So much relief on Luke's end came pouring in and at the same time, it was agony. Vader wanted to resurrect Obi-Wan and then kill him again in a more horrific manner for denying him the life his son deserved. Luke deserved to live in a palace, rather that desert tomb he loathed. Luke deserved to eat the finest foods, be clothed in silks and Sherpa fur and head to toe in jewels from distant planets and be given the best training and education in the Galaxy. Luke would be tucked in with soft blankets every night, given bubble baths and be told constantly how much he was meaningful and loved.
The small boy cried until he hiccupped and choked on his sobs. Vader lovingly wiped the tears away, cupping Luke's soft cheek. Luke felt heavy, his shoulders ached and his head felt light.
"Little one," Vader hushed. "You're tired." Luke wanted to fight it. He would. He's just woken up not that long ago. Vader continued. "You've emitted a lot of energy that you were not ready to give. Your body is responding accordingly, little one." Vader soothed, stroking that blonde hair that reminded him so much of the sunshine on Naboo where he'd spend his free days in the garden with her. Vader marveled at the sight of his son protesting sleep, his large eyes half lidded and red rimmed from crying, but a large yawn sealed Luke's fate in being lifted by the Force in the air, alarming him for a moment until a droid came with a hover stretcher. Luke was gently laid down and Vader removed his cape, tucking the boy in when he felt Luke shiver through the force.
"Take him to my private wing, when he awakes he'll be examined for illnesses, injuries or allergies." Vader instructed the droid acknowledged him. The large man turned as he walked beside his son in the hover stretcher. Luke whimpered something in protest but Vader only reached out to stroke his hair.
Given the fact they were on the Devastator , it was a shorter walk to Vader's private quarters. It wasn't lavish in his mind, but to a glossy eyed and sleepy Luke, it was the epitome of luxury with it's granite floors, open kitchen and living space as well. Luke was hovered to a bedroom that was quite large with a bed that would sleep five Wookies comfortably with the silkiest sheets and pillows Luke had ever had the pleasure of touching. It was Vader to manually lifted Luke out of the hover stretcher and frowned. His son was too easy to carry. He made mental note to have the droids scan for starvation as well. Knowing his son was left on that dust ball excuse of a planet Vader had fears of his son starving or being dehydrated.
Luke whimpered, shivering holding his father's black cape closer for warmth and leaning into Vader more.
Vader smiled softly, sending reassurances through their bond as he lowered Luke into his bed. He never used it but he wasn't the one who designed the ship. He gently laid Luke down, allowing the boy to sleep with the cape seeing as he cocooned himself with it before lifting the sheets and comforter over his small child. Luke was on his last leg before falling asleep, Vader knew. He sat down beside the boy and sent the medical droid away with the stretcher.
Sleep now, my little one. You're safe. Vader vowed. As he starred down at Luke breathing slowly, his eyelids fluttering as he entered the dream realm. Vader thought back to those haunting nightmares he'd have when his respirator wasn't attached. Those dreams of that little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. Of the little boy who would run to him with his little arms open wide, giggling and calling for him to be carried and Vader would always ALWAYS wake before he could touch the boy. Were they really nightmares? Or visions? He liked to think so but he was more certian that was Luke's bond calling out to him. It had to be. That adorable voice rang in his ears as he ran a hand through Luke's golden hair one more time.
"Daddy!"
Daddy's here, Luke. Daddy's never leaving.