Chapter Text
Luke would never get used to Coruscant’s colder weather; he was sure of it. He shivered where he stood, and his father lay a hand on his shoulder, stilling his nervous fidgeting.
“Be still, young one. This is almost done, just a bit longer. Then you can warm up with some hot chocolate.”
Luke nodded, wisely keeping his mouth shut as the Emperor continued to speak, addressing the cheering crowd far below the dais.
He tuned out as the Emperor droned on about the might of the Empire, their recent stunning defeat of the Rebellion, the surety that the Empire would reign for a thousand years.
He’d heard it enough over the past year, that it became… boring, after a while.
Luke had tuned out so much that he startled when his father squeezed his shoulder, and he tilted his head back to look at his father’s impassive mask, nose scrunched reflexively.
“Is it over?”
Vader nodded, amusement leaking into their bond.
“Piett has already ordered an early dinner for you, my youngling. I think an early bedtime is in store for you tonight.”
Luke frowned, even as he allowed his father to herd him through the halls of the palace, back towards their own private level.
“I’m not a kid anymore, dad. I don’t need a bedtime.”
Vader shook his head, but wisely changed the subject.
“The Emperor seemed pleased with your performance today, Luke. He was pleased that you stayed quiet and respectful during the ceremony, a good example for Imperial children to follow.”
Huffing in distaste, Luke crossed his arms petulantly as he and his father boarded the lift to their private level, their entourage of 501st troopers filing in around them for the ride.
“I’m surprised his Imperial Sliminess even noticed.”
Vader flicked Luke on the forehead, and Luke squeaked in surprise, even as his father didn’t sound all that upset as he tried to reprimand his son.
“Luke. That is the Emperor. Not ‘His Imperial Sliminess’. He deserves your respect.”
Luke merely harumphed, rolling his eyes.
“Whatever you say, dad. He doesn’t treat you with much respect, so why should I respect him?”
Vader sighed, the ding of the lift doors opening thankfully saving the Sith from responding.
“Come, Luke. Let’s… leave this discussion for another night.”
Luke could recognize a losing battle and dropped it.
“Yeah, dad. Maybe we can watch the podracing finals?”
Knowing his father was smiling at him, Luke returned the gesture as they stepped into their shared quarters, and Luke raced off to the sofa, throwing himself onto the cushions with a put-upon sigh.
Vader followed him, his fondness apparent in the Force.
“Perhaps we could do something a bit more productive, Luke. Like… practicing your saber forms?”
Luke shot up from the couch, eyes blowing wide in excitement.
“Really?!”
Vader nodded, flicking a hand out and summoning Luke’s training saber to his hand, weighing the saber in his palm.
“Only if you want to, my son. If you would prefer to watch the podrace—”
“Are you crazy?! Of course I want to practice!”
Throwing the saber to Luke, Luke caught it easily and twirled it in his hand, behind his back, and extended it with a flourish. He was already flushing with excitement, his heart racing.
“Can I move up from fighting droids, now?”
Vader made a considering noise as he corralled his son back into the open corridor and toward their training rooms, a hand on his back.
“I’m not sure yet, young one. Let’s see a few rounds of combat with the droids before I make a decision, yes?”
Huffing indignantly, Luke dashed off and burst through the wide double doors to the training room, Vader trailing behind and holding in a laugh at his son’s exuberance.
“Alright, Luke. I think we’ll warm up with the two droids and work up from there. Take your position on the mat, and I’ll deploy them.”
Luke nodded and moved to the center of the training room, stretching his arms eagerly and tossing his saber back and forth between each hand, nearly bursting with excitement.
Stepping over to the table at the edge of the training mat, Vader turned on two small, flying training droids. He ensured that their blasts could do nothing more than cause a little pinch, and let them hover over to the mat, floating in place about five feet from Luke’s position.
Vader also picked up the helmet and walked over to his son, handing it over with a look.
“Do be careful, my son. No repeats of last time, alright?”
Luke rolled his eyes even as he slid the helmet on, the visor of it blocking his vision.
“That was not my fault. The droid was set to kill mode, if you remember. And sure, I may have gotten a bit carried away dismantling it, but it was the only way to get it to stop.”
Vader shook his head and made his way out of the ring, hands on his hips as he stood and watched Luke shift on his feet. At an invisible signal, the training droids initiated the mock battle, zipping around Luke and shooting lasers at him.
The boy was skilled as he moved to deflect them easily, moving like water as he parried, always on the defensive. As the heat of the battle started to pick up, Luke started to pick up speed, moving so fast he was nearly blurred as he flipped out of the way of the bolts, dodged, raising his saber to deflect the shots back at the droids.
Vader allowed it to continue for a few more moments, before he tapped the remote to the droids, powering them down instantly.
Luke stood there, panting and clutching his stomach, his saber deactivated and clenched in hand.
“That was perfect, Luke. I think if you want to move up to fighting something more difficult, we could certainly do so.”
Heaving slightly, Luke turned to the side and dropped his saber, both hands now pressed over his stomach.
“…Dad. Dad, I think—”
Vader surged forward, before Luke could collapse on the mat. He held his son upright, his life-support system causing his heart to lurch absurdly, in a feeling that he hadn’t had since before he became a force of nature, an invulnerable Sith Lord.
Not so invulnerable anymore, when he held his heart in his arms like this, his mind supplied.
Luke let out a long, terrible moan, his mouth falling open and retching drily, seizing in Vader’s arms.
Vader held him tighter, searching his son for the injury that was causing such pain, crushing the boy with his prosthetics in his frantic grip.
“Luke. Luke, talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
Luke shook his head, swallowing and swallowing, his bright-blue eyes blinking up at him, unseeing and fixed on the ceiling.
“Oh, it’s just… the flu. I’ve been… sick for a while but didn’t want to bother you while you were off-planet.”
His stomach turning cold with dread, he stared down at Luke and held in the urge to shake him for his foolishness.
“You’ve been ill? And you didn’t tell me?”
Luke swallowed once more, his eyes finally sliding down to fix on Vader’s mask.
“I didn’t want to… inconvenience you.”
Vader exhaled shakily, his lungs seizing painfully at the motion that defied his respirator, but he didn’t care.
“You could never inconvenience me. Now. We need to get you a medic.”
Shaking his head adamantly, Luke grasped weakly at Vader’s chest plate, panting and whining low in his throat.
“No, no—no medic. Please, can you just take me back to my room? I want… if I can just lay down, it’ll go away—it has before, it’s just a bit of dizziness—”
Vader hefted the boy into his arms, his heart in his throat as Luke coughed at the motion. He hurried out of the training room, nearly mowing down two guards patrolling the hallway in his urge to return to Luke’s room.
Luke whined softly as Vader deposited him on the bed, his son paler than the moon, with sweat beading on his forehead.
Vader knelt beside the bed, taking one of Luke’s hands in his enormous, prosthetic one. He stared at the size difference, wondering if Luke had always been so small.
Turning his head to meet his father’s concerned gaze, Luke tried for a bracing smile.
“Thanks, dad. I just need to… sleep it off.”
Vader shook his head, staring down at Luke’s pallid skin.
“No, you need to see a medic. Or at least a droid. Luke, please. For me.”
Luke’s obstinance was greater than Vader’s, as he shook his head twice as vigorously, scrunching his eyes shut in a move that Vader was familiar with—a tantrum.
“I can’t see a medic, no medic! I’m fine, please, dad. How about this—if I’m still not feeling good tomorrow, then you can… bring a droid in. Please?”
And, well.
When Luke blinked those eyes brighter than the sky up at him, his bottom lip quavering, Vader folded like flimsi.
“Tomorrow, if you’re not better—and I mean it, Luke. I will ensure you are taken care of, even if you hate it.”
Luke flashed a tiny smile at that, squeezing Vader’s hand, though the Sith could barely feel it through his prosthetics.
“Thanks, dad. I love you.”
Swallowing, Vader merely brushed some of the boy’s hair off of his forehead.
“Get some rest, Luke. I will have dinner brought to you, if you’re feeling up to eating.”
Luke nodded, snuggling down into his covers and holding Vader’s hand just as tight as he tried to get comfortable.
“Will you stay, dad? You could watch holos while I nap? I know you’ll fret otherwise…”
The boy trailed off with a weak cough, and Vader’s heart seized again.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll stay.”
X
Luke never did end up getting checked over by a droid or a medic—not that day, or the day after. Or for any of the days to come, at least, until it was too late. But Vader didn’t know that. All he knew was that he’d had to leave his son’s bedside before the next day had even started, before the morning rush of traffic filled Coruscant’s hyperlanes. Palpatine had called him at the crack of dawn, hours before his son would wake. He was loathe to leave Luke, but it wasn’t possible to ignore a direct summons from his Master.
He groaned as his joints, stiff from sitting at Luke’s bedside, creaked at moving at last. Vader put all his resentment for the pain of his prosthetics into the Dark, feeding the hungry flames of it with his anger as he strode through the halls of the palace.
He fed his impatience and annoyance at the slow turbolift into the Dark, fed his fury at the incompetence of every single member of Palpatine’s staff into the Dark that by the time he was kneeling in front of Palpatine’s throne, teeth gritted in pain at the position and the pressure on his stumps, the Dark was a swirling supernova of fury around him, superheating the blood in his veins until he felt like his blood had been replaced with Mustafar’s lava.
Minutes stretched in silence in the throne room, Palpatine surveying him from his shroud of darkness, eyes narrowed. Vader kept his head bowed, but his eyes flicked up now and then to watch his Master on his throne.
Finally, Palpatine cleared his throat, bringing his hands together, fingers steepled.
“Tell me, my apprentice… how is your son?”
It was good that Vader was already kneeling, for he felt like he might have stumbled back in surprise if he hadn’t been. His fury, once boiling hot, was now glacial fear racing up his spine. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to reign in the spike of anxiety that he was sure he’d sent out into the Force—but it was pointless. He knew Palpatine had already felt it, for the way a slimy smile slithered across the old man’s face.
“Yes, your son, Lord Vader. He is,”
Palpatine licked his lips, his eyes fixed on the horizon, as if he could see through the duracrete walls of the palace, right into Luke’s room.
“He is immensely powerful. You are training him to use the Force, are you not?”
Vader shook his head slightly, mouth dryer than the Dune Sea.
“I am… teaching him saber fighting, Master. And how to sense things through the Force, how to reach out and use the Force to extend his hearing, his sight, his own physical capabilities. But I am not teaching him how to control it yet, how to exert it over… another being.”
The Emperor stilled, the smile disappearing.
“What do you mean, Lord Vader? Not teaching him the power the Force can bring him?”
He didn’t know how to respond, his respirator forcing him to continue breathing, even when everything in him felt like it had ground to a stop.
“I am… waiting, Master. The boy is not ready to learn to wield the Force. In time, he will learn.”
Palpatine hit the marble floor with the end of his cane, the sound ringing in the silence that had fallen once more.
“He will learn; indeed, he will learn. You will teach him. And you will begin to do so now.”
Vader stiffened, and Palpatine seemed to sense his resistance, his burgeoning fury.
“Oh, Lord Vader, do you have objections to this? Do you remember what you promised me, when you found the boy? When I allowed you to bring him here, to my palace?”
His Master smiled.
“You promised he would be a great asset to my Empire, did you not?”
Vader didn’t move, couldn’t move. He had… forgotten wasn’t the word. He had forced the memory out of his mind, his promise that he had only brought Luke to Coruscant after finding him on Tatooine to serve their Empire. That the boy was their means to an end—his supernova in the Force was their way of ensuring a thousand-year Empire.
When had Vader become afraid of that very outcome? When had he become terrified to see his son at Sidious’ side, clad in black… a mask covering his face—those blue eyes, so warm, turned sickly, nightmarish yellow?
He only knew that he couldn’t give Luke to Sidious, couldn’t bear to see that innocence snuffed out so gleefully by his Master.
“He will… serve the Empire, Master. But—the boy is not ready.”
Sidious hissed in displeasure, rising from his throne. Vader refused to be quailed, not in this.
“Very well, Lord Vader. I will determine for myself if he is ready.”
Vader swallowed and bowed his head in resignation.
“Yes, Master.”
Palpatine smiled.
“I shall summon the boy to my chambers and test him—you are dismissed.”
Rising with a pit of dread in his stomach, Vader turned tail and fled the throne room, his cape fluttering and snapping at his heels.
Luke had risen by the time Vader returned to their rooms, his son sitting at the table and eating his breakfast, a blue milk mustache on his upper lip.
The boy beamed when his father entered the room, and Vader’s heart seized oddly again at how pleased Luke looked to have his father even in the same room.
“Dad! Where were you?”
Vader stared at his son, the dread swirling and growing as he realized just how young the boy was. What… monster he was willingly feeding him to.
“I was summoned before the Emperor, Luke.”
Luke frowned immediately and beckoned to the chair opposite him at the table. Vader took it, his eyebrows rising behind his mask at the ominous creaking of the wood, though the chair held him.
“What did that slimeball want? It’s really early in the morning.”
Vader held in a chuckle, his nerves leaving him too on edge to enjoy Luke’s distaste of the Emperor.
“Palpatine insists that… we must ramp up your training.”
To Vader’s dismay, Luke’s smile returned as a smirk, and he tilted his head, fork stabbing into his breakfast eagerly.
“Well, that’s not so bad, is it? I’ve been begging you to teach me more for ages now.”
He couldn’t help the way the glass on the table shook, the blue milk inside sloshing as the Force whirled around him, his fear making his control flex and wane.
Luke raised a brow and set down his fork, reaching out and steadying the glass of blue milk before it could shatter. Vader heaved a breath, pulling his Force back in and tamping it down tight, gritting his teeth.
“So you clearly don’t agree… what’s really wrong, dad?”
Vader swallowed, his throat impossibly dry. His son was aware, surprisingly intuitive as children always were, of how dangerous Palpatine was. But the boy could never understand how truly insidious the Sith was, how enterprising, how clever.
“My son, the Emperor showing an interest in you is the worst thing you could imagine.”
Luke’s smirk had turned back into a frown, and his expression turned serious.
“I mean, the worst thing I could imagine would probably be stuck out in Beggar’s Canyon without water and surrounded by womp rats without a slugthrower, but—”
Vader cut the boy off before he could continue, slamming a hand down on the table so violently the whole thing groaned, the plate and glass clattering.
“Luke! You don’t understand. The Emperor… is not a good man. This is the worst thing that could happen to us.”
His son had the audacity to roll his eyes at that, fork in hand.
“You think I don’t know he’s bad? I know that, dad. I’m not naïve. But he’s just some old guy. Some old politician who has all his minions doing all the work for him.”
Sighing, Vader pressed a hand to his mask, grateful and yet cursing how naïve his boy was. He didn’t want Luke to know firsthand how dangerous Sidious was. And yet… only seeing was truly believing.
“Luke. Here is what I want you to do. I want you to act… like you don’t know anything in the Force. You’re just any other young Imperial citizen. You watch holotelevision, you dream of flying ships. You’re… just some boy.”
Luke wrinkled his nose and set his fork down on his plate.
“I don’t understand. Why would I need to hide what I know about the Force? You’re not making sense.”
“Luke. Can you do what I ask? I’m only saying these things because I want you to be safe.”
Luke’s face of consternation turned into a soft, fond smile.
“You care about me.”
Vader froze, his hand clenching involuntarily into a fist on the table.
“Just do what I ask, my son. I can explain everything in time.”
After a moment, Luke nodded, smiling and taking the glass of blue milk in hand again.
“Whatever you say, dad. I don’t want to make you worry.”
X
The summons to appear before the Emperor came a week later, conveniently when Vader was off planet. His father hadn’t wanted to leave, on edge ever since he’d learned that Luke was expected to present himself to the Emperor at any time. But the man had had no choice in the matter—he was the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy, after all.
Luke dressed in his white shirt and pants, complementing the look with a mini off-the-shoulder cape that his father would surely be pleased with.
When he reached the door to the Emperor’s private quarters, the red guards positioned outside waved him inside without preamble. The creaking of the massive wroshyrr wood doors had him grinding his teeth nervously, and he bounced in place for a few seconds before he stepped over the threshold.
As he stepped into the room, Luke’s eyes fell on the man reclining on the sofa, the wizened figure shrouded in black robes.
Luke stood there awkwardly for a moment, before the Emperor beckoned him closer with a pale hand, and Luke advanced slowly, coming to stand beside the opposite sofa. He’d seen the Emperor countless times before, of course. But he’d never spoken to the man directly. He assumed that Palpatine got all the information he wanted about Luke from his father, or from his countless spies around the Palace.
“Come and join me, dear Luke. Take a seat. Go on.”
Swallowing, Luke nodded and took a seat on the sofa, sitting stiffly and hands resting on his thighs nervously. He shivered under the piercing yellow gaze of the Emperor as it homed in on his face, and Luke opened his mouth to speak, though nothing came out but a soft squeak. He cleared his throat in embarrassment, face going red.
“Your Majesty. I was told you… wanted to see me.”
Palpatine smiled, and Luke struggled not to flinch back at the baring of teeth in that sickening skull-like face.
“Yes, Luke. I have wanted to meet you for a long time now.”
Luke inclined his head respectfully, then looked around. There were no red guards in the room, which he found odd.
“There aren’t any guards in this room. Isn’t that dangerous, Your Majesty?”
Palpatine laughed, waving a hand.
“Oh, my boy, your concern is touching. But I am quite capable of defending myself.”
The Emperor took a breath, and stared Luke down.
“Now. Onto a much more interesting topic—you, my dear boy.”
The Emperor clasped both hands together and leaned forward where he sat.
“Lord Vader is very protective of you, isn’t he?”
Luke narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head consideringly.
“I… suppose so. Aren’t most parents protective of their kids?”
Palpatine chuckled lowly and shook his head slightly.
“I confess to not quite understanding the sentiment, as I have no children of my own. But it seems that Vader is very concerned over you, Luke. I understand that he refuses to teach you more about the Force.”
Shifting on the sofa, Palpatine grabbed a pitcher of water and poured two glasses, sliding one across the low table between them and keeping one for himself.
“I must say that I don’t quite understand his cause for concern. But perhaps you could enlighten me, Luke.”
Luke didn’t reach for the glass, to which Palpatine raised a brow.
“Go ahead and take it, Luke. I understand, being from Tatooine, the frugal nature regarding water. But there is no shortage of it here. Please, drink.”
Nodding, Luke took the glass in hand and stared down at the contents for a moment. It was a sign of respect, of community, of kindness, to share water with a guest on Tatooine. He wasn’t sure if the Emperor knew of that cultural quirk, but he… appreciated the gesture, nonetheless.
He took a slow sip of the water before setting it back down on the table, looking across the space at the Emperor, still sitting and staring at Luke.
“Are you not going to drink as well, Your Majesty?”
Palpatine shook his head, his smile growing as he considered Luke.
“No, I got the water for you, dear Luke. Now. Let’s discuss your father, and how he is stifling your growth in the Force.”
Luke frowned, one hand clenching in a fist reflexively.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, Luke. Isn’t it obvious? Your father is keeping you from reaching your full potential.”
Even though Luke didn’t respond, Palpatine continued, picking up steam.
“And why would he do such a thing? Because he’s jealous, Luke. He knows, as well as I do, that you could be more powerful than him. Much, much more powerful.”
Luke wasn’t sure what to say to such a thing, but he opened his mouth to try, before Palpatine cut him off with a casual wave of his hand.
“But you see, Luke, I wanted to see for myself if I could rectify the situation. It is a great injustice to not take your training in the Force further—to deny you your birthright.”
Palpatine smiled widely, and leaned forward, yellow eyes gleaming at Luke.
“Drink up, my dear boy. We have much to discuss.”