Suddenly she was gone, and everything had changed. Except the ring, whose stone was still the colour of his eyes, set in polished black... like the armour he now wore.
It had been a long time before he could look at the ring, so completely did it remind him of her.
And yet, it had eventually become one of his most treasured possessions.
And now he gave it to his son- because he wanted the boy to have something which was hers. Some contact, however distant, with the mother he would never know... because of Vader. Because of Anakin. Because of Obi-Wan.
Luke remained silent, staring at the ring in his hand for a long time. When he finally lifted his pale blue eyes to his father, Vader knew that his son had sensed the desperate play of wretched emotions which plagued him.
"I can't take this." He said at last, voice quiet and certain, holding his open hand out.
"You should have something which was hers." Vader said resolutely, making no move.
"Not this. I know what it must..."
"Take it. She would want you to have it."
Luke studied his father, and Vader knew that his mask hid nothing- not from his son. The boy looked again to the ring and finally tried it on his index finger, where Vader had said that his mother had worn it- it didn't pass the first joint, and Vader could hear the gentle amusement in his sons voice as he pulled it free, "It's tiny. She must have been..." he said no more but Vader remembered again how delicate she was, how graceful. How fragile.
Luke tried the ring on each finger; it was just large enough to fit his little finger and he left it there, unable to take his eyes from it. He was silent for a long time, searching to find the words which were equal to this priceless gift. Finally he said the honest, uncomplicated truth. "It's... thank you- it's an incomparable gift. I'll take good care of it, I promise."
Vader took a step back, suddenly uncomfortable, voice gruff and dismissive, "It's nothing- a worthless trinket. Do as you wish with it."
"Then I'll treasure it." His son said genuinely, eyes still on the ring. He glanced up suddenly, realising something; "You have blue eyes!"
"Yes." Vader replied awkwardly.
His son shrugged, looking back down to the ring. "I had always thought that they were brown for some reason. I'd thought mine were from my mother."
"Your mother had brown eyes, like heartwood; and long, auburn hair." It occurred to Vader only now that he had not mentioned out loud that Padmé had said the stone was the color of his eyes - could the boy read his thoughts so completely? Had this been a momentary slip on Luke's part which revealed the extent of his ability?
"...What happened?" The deep loss of a child left alone and abandoned shone out through those words and took Vader's thoughts completely, leaving him speechless with guilt.
But his son only waited patiently, so that eventually Vader had to speak, though he could not find the courage to face his son. "I... cannot tell you."
Luke's gaze fell to the floor, regret and remorse twisting through his sense at the realisation of what his father was saying. Yet he made no accusation, no move to condemn or rebuke. Perhaps he sensed Vader's own grief; his burning, knifing shame.
Silence drew out again, marked by the deep, rasping breaths of Vader's suit, Luke bringing his eyes back to his father only slowly.
"Why?" he asked at last, the only question left to him, Vader supposed. But even now there was no censure in his quiet voice, only the desire to know.
Vader had wished a thousand times for the opportunity to explain his actions - to defend them before the only one who mattered, when he was finally prepared to listen. Yet now, before those blue eyes so very much like his own, words failed him and he could only shake his head, shame holding him to silence.
"I'm sorry..." his son murmured at last, eyes turning down, though Vader did not know whether it was regret that he had asked, or at his father's unforgivable actions.
Vader took another step back, trying to deny the emotions which threatened to overwhelm him now. "You... should go."
His son looked up at that, and Vader found the excuse to support his words, "You've been here too long already; the Emperor will know."
It didn't fool the boy - not for a second - but he looked away and stepped back, prepared to give his father the space he needed. "Of course. Will you be here when I return?"
"I would imagine." Vader replied, "The capture of Mon Mothma will be a major event. The Emperor will want everyone in attendance when he receives his new toy."
The boy looked away, uneasy again, face and sense haunted by tearing uncertainties.
"You are doing the right thing." Vader assured.
"No, I'm doing the wrong thing." His son replied quietly, looking to his mothers' ring, "But I believe it's necessary."
He turned to depart, and Vader blurted out the words, unwilling to allow this to end on such a bleak note, "I loved her - very much."
The words stopped Luke in his tracks, shaking him to the core, twisting his stomach and burning deep in his chest, mind buzzing in shock at the revelation. Darkness did not love. The word was anathema- unthinkable; impossible.
"What am I to do with that?" he asked at last without turning .
"Learn from it." Vader said bleakly, bringing Luke's gaze back to him. "We are...solitary creatures by necessity. We can only destroy that which we value."
Luke remained silent, so Vader pressed, "You cannot be close to another- you cannot allow another to be close to you." It had been a devastating, irretrievable mistake and Vader wished to spare his son the misery of regrets which had plagued his own life for as long as he could remember. "Failure is inevitable and the consequences will spiral from your control."
Luke glanced away uneasily, wilfully refusing to understand, setting forward again only to pause at the threshold of the door, unable to leave such a damning prediction hanging over his head.
"I am not you." He murmured, as much to himself as his father.
Then, not wishing to leave under the shadow of discord as he so often had in the past, he offered, "Goodnight, father." He glanced again to the ring, "And thank-you."
Vader remained still as his son left the room, all his frustrations dissipated by that one short sentence- "Goodnight, father. Thank-you."
It was the first time that his son had ever said those words - and meant them. Everything else paled by comparison.
Chapter 11
Luke gazed quietly out of the wide viewport in his ready-room to the rear of the Peerless' bridge, back straight, muscles tense, eyes set in the middle distance, seeing nothing, possessed of the kind of kinetic stillness which alluded to at the coming storm.
General Veers was on his way to his ready-room and Luke was... considering his options.
Reece, aware of the larger picture and of Luke's antipathy towards the General, had wisely gone out of his way to find constant tasks for Veers to attend far from the bridge since Luke's return to the Peerless, hoping Luke's temper would cool before he needed to deal with the General in person. The reason that Reece had quoted - that since Luke had seen Veers leaving the Emperor's presence he should, to all intents and purposes, be considered to be under Palpatine's protection - was a valid one, and it had stayed Luke's hand for almost ten hours now, but less than a day into the journey the black knot which had been steadily growing in his stomach could no longer be ignored.
He could of course dispel this situation in any number of ways, he knew; he could play the game, take the hit, chalk this one up to experience and learn his lesson... but the lesson which was whispering so insistently in the back of his thoughts right now was this; Never to leave an enemy at your back.