Forbidden

FORBIDDEN

By Raythe Reign

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

PAIRING: Luke x Vader

WARNINGS: Slash/Incest/AU/Daddykink/BDSM/Angst

RATING: NC-17

HINTS AND STUFF: Is Darkness starting to appear in Qui-Gon? And are Luke and Vader at a crossroads in their relationship? Will duty or ambition trump their love or can they overcome?

NEWS! As you can see this is the first update of Forbidden in almost 2 years. As some of you know, I came down with cancer and retreated from writing for some time, but now I’m back and with a vengeance. In addition to updating (and completing) Forbidden, I have opened a subscription website for my original work www.RaytheReign.com. I hope you enjoy this chapter of Forbidden and I hope that you go and check out the site as well.

Please let me know what you think! Reviews are my life’s blood!

Raythe

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: YODA’S CALL

Luke’s POV

Luke stumbled back a few steps in the Deathstryke’s main hallway as the ship’s powerful plasma-fueled engines engaged. They gave out a low throaty purr and the vibrations they made ran up Luke’s legs and echoed in his chest. Even his fingertips tingled as he steadied himself with them against the hallway’s grated walls.

Luke sighed, his forehead thumped against the closed cockpit door. He had hoped to be in the cockpit when the Deathstryke left the Executor; to experience with his father firsthand the wonder of a direct leap into hyperspace. But Vader had sealed the cockpit and no matter how Luke had pleaded, both the cockpit door and his father’s mind had remained closed to him.

Dispirited, but not surprised, Luke had decided to camp out in the hallway to wait for Vader rather than fasten himself into one of the chairs in the common room where Qui-Gon and Artoo had gone. He had been right to guess that the ship’s gravity system would protect him from rocketing him back down the main hallway during the ship’s takeoff. That fact that Luke had only stumbled was proof of his father’s engineering genius. Now if only that genius could be applied to their relationship.

“Father, you can’t hide in there forever. You have to speak to me,” Luke said and rapped on the metal door until his knuckles stung.

Again there was no audible or mental response, but Luke envisioned Vader’s plush lips thinning in determination to keep silent. The Dark Lord considered himself far more stubborn than Luke could ever be; therefore, in a contest of wills like this, Vader thought he would always win out. Not that Vader would have described himself as stubborn. ‘He would say he was being determined. Or disciplined. Or something stern and cold. Not imperious or pigheaded or … afraid,’ Luke thought and gave a frustrated sigh.

“I love you and only you. Why don’t you understand that I wasn’t choosing Damon over you when I saved him? It just -- it just wasn’t right to kill him,” Luke said as he rested his forehead against the door again.

Luke knew that Vader’s reaction to his defense of Damon was complicated by things from the Dark Lord’s past. Things Luke knew nothing about. What little he had been able to glean from his father’s mind before Vader had slammed the mental door on him had been one sentence uttered in a plaintive woman’s voice: ‘Anakin, you’re breaking my heart.’

A happy series of beeps drew Luke slightly out of his funk. He gave Artoo a strained smile as the droid trundled up beside him. While not as proficient as his father was at understanding Artoo’s language, it was easy to recognize the droid’s joy at leaving the Executor.

“I’m happy to be on our way as well, Artoo,” Luke said and patted his dome.

Artoo beeped and tooted at him, wishing entry into the cockpit.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. I want to get in there, too, but absent breaking the door down, neither of us is going anywhere,” Luke answered. “Father has decided he wants to be alone. To brood!” he added the last loudly so that Vader would be sure to hear.

With an annoyed squawk that Luke felt described the situation perfectly, Artoo reversed into the t-junction before pivoting and rolling back down the main hallway from where he’d come.

The main hallway that Artoo was trundling down was one of two hallways in the Deathstryke that crossed each other to form a lower case ‘t.’ The cross of the ‘t’ bisected the ship with a gangway at each end, offering the useful ability of exiting the ship on either side. The main hallway spanned the length of the ship. Its terminuses were the cargo hold on one end and the cockpit on the other. In between, there were the sleeping quarters, galley, common room and medical bay. Though his father had said that the Deathstryke’s amenities were bare-bones, the interior reminded Luke of the Millennium Falcon, which he had always found incredibly comfortable. Luke smiled at the comparison; although he doubted either Vader or Han would appreciate it.

Luke swung back to the cockpit door and grasped his light saber’s hilt. He felt like burning through the damn lock and ripping the door open. But then what? Luke’s thoughts tumbled: Would his father’s temper come out at him? Would Vader continue to refuse to speak with him? Or worse, what if Vader did choose to speak and ended their relationship? Luke would lose more than a lover if Vader did that. He would lose his father. His father. The man he had always needed in his life and always would.

‘I can’t go on without him. No, I don’t want to go on without him,’ Luke thought almost helplessly. No matter how melodramatic that sounded, it was a fact. As certain as anything he had ever known. As if it were etched in stone or written in … ‘blood and sand.’ And just like it had happened in the Executor’s galley, Luke was thrown into a vision. Only this time the images were scattered and incomplete. Hazy and haphazard. But it was the impression they gave him that registered strongly, ‘It’s a desert planet … a dead planet … once filled with life and … now empty. Because he was gone and I … my life for his. Sand and blood and ... death. So much death to bring back one life. But how could I regret?’

Luke didn’t know what was meant by these thoughts that seared through him. His body, in shock from the raw power of the vision, swayed backwards, nearly toppling over, but a firm clasp on his shoulder stopped him from falling. The touch jolted Luke back to himself and caused the vision to leave him just as suddenly as it had come. But something else replaced it, which was far worse.

Fear. Raw, suffocating fear.

Luke’s heart was suddenly in his throat and adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream. Danger, danger, danger: was the drum beat in his veins and his Force senses screamed the same refrain. Whoever was in this hallway with him was dangerous to him -- to everyone. Luke spun around to confront the one who had touched him, his hand on his light saber and his knees bending, ready to spring.

But there was no enemy in the hallway. Only Qui-Gon Jinn stood there.

His handsome face was set in a puzzled smile. He said in his deep, gentle voice, “Forgive me, Luke. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Qui-Gon’s concerned smile dimmed until it was replaced altogether by a frown as he noted that Luke did not release his death grip on his light saber’s hilt. Luke couldn’t pry his hand from it, because the feeling of danger was still there. Even though his eyes perceived Qui-Gon, his Force senses didn’t. The warm sunny presence the other man normally exuded wasn’t there and Luke couldn’t tell what was. Except that it had a scent: the powdery, rich smell of decaying wood mixed with the metallic tang of brackish standing water with an ophidian undertone.

Qui-Gon reached for him. Luke stiffened and he took a half-step back from the other man until his back was flush with the cockpit’s door.

“Luke? Are you all right? By the Force, what’s wrong?” Qui-Gon asked.

Luke had nowhere to go when the Jedi Master grabbed him otherwise he would have avoided that touch. Yet when the older man’s palms pressed against his biceps, the wrongness in the hallway was suddenly wiped out as if it had never been. Even that strange scent was gone replaced with the ship’s normal bitter smell of engine oil and hot metal.

Luke’s shoulders slumped as all the tension abruptly left him. Qui-Gon’s body, however, was rigid with apprehension, his eyes narrowed with concern. He ordered in a tight voice, “Luke, answer me!”

“I -- It’s all right,” Luke managed to say then added as he suddenly felt the warm touch of the Jedi Master’s golden Force presence against his own, “I didn’t sense you.”

The other man went very still. “When? When I approached you? Or …”

“Not at all. Not when you approached and not -- not after I saw you. I thought -- I don’t know. I just felt so strange. Everything was wrong. I had a vision or something and I don’t know. It’s gone now. The vision and the fear. I was so afraid,” Luke said even as his heart rate and breathing were already back to normal.

“Afraid of me?” Qui-Gon asked quietly.

Luke hesitated then nodded. “I felt there was danger and there was this smell. I know that sounds crazy.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes drifted to the cockpit where Vader remained seemingly oblivious to what had occurred in the hallway. Luke heart lurched at the thought that Vader might have sensed his fear, but done nothing about it.

“What was the vision?” Qui-Gon asked. “Was it like the ones you had on the Executor?”

“I guess. I -- I can’t remember it!” Luke said, slapping his thigh in frustration at the memory blank.

“Well, that is disturbing,” Qui-Gon said slowly.

Then the Jedi Master studied him for long quiet moments; his forehead furrowed, his eyes opaque.

‘As they always are. Shielding his thoughts from me,’ Luke realized with sudden clarity. ‘He shares so little of what he thinks and knows. He has a right to his own thoughts, I suppose. And I’ve never sensed any evil intent from him. Until today.’

“Do you know of any reason I should have had that reaction to you? Been afraid of you?” Luke asked.

Qui-Gon shifted slightly, tugging at his over-robe. “No, nothing that I can think of.”

But Luke knew he was lying. ‘Perhaps he has a reason to. Perhaps he just doesn’t want to speculate and frighten me. Nonetheless, I’ll have to tell father about this. When he’s speaking to me again that is.’

“Perhaps the answer will come to us in time,” Qui-Gon said.

Luke just scuffed his boot in response. His head turned towards where he knew his father was.

“No word from him, I take it?” Qui-Gon asked, noticing Luke’s gaze.

“No, none,” Luke said, his shoulders drooping. He pushed down a stab of jealousy as he asked, “Have you? Heard anything, I mean.”

The Jedi Master’s eyes flickered over to the cockpit door again then away. With an icy feeling in his chest, Luke realized Qui-Gon was weighing what or how much to tell him. Luke knew that the Jedi and Vader becoming Master and Padwan meant that there would be things that they would share together that Luke would not, which was painful enough, but he hadn’t realized that Qui-Gon’s loyalty would also be to the Dark Lord first and not to Luke and Vader equally any longer.

“He’s spoken to me only of peripheral things, nothing about you and him. He is refusing to discuss it,” Qui-Gon said and added with a wry smile, “He’s being very difficult.”

“I think father’s default character mode is difficult,” Luke said.

The Jedi Master’s familiar gentle look of concern and understanding in return made what happened earlier seem like a bad dream. ‘How could I have ever been afraid of him like that? He couldn’t exude such malevolence. He just couldn’t,’ Luke thought.

“Things will be fine. He will get over this,” Qui-Gon said.

“You say that with such authority, but I am not so certain.” Luke’s hands tightened into fists as he voiced his earlier fears, “Father could end it. He could decide he doesn’t want me anymore.”

“There is no chance of that. Your father is more afraid of losing you than you are of losing him,” Qui-Gon answered.

“That hardly seems possible,” Luke lowered his head and bit his lower lip before saying, “but it seems that you know him so well. So much better than I do sometimes. Perhaps you are right.”

There was a burst of something, some deep emotion, from the other man as Luke said these things. ‘Possessiveness?’ Luke wondered.

But Qui-Gon’s words were different than the feeling he so quickly broadcast as the Jedi Master said simply, “You know him, Luke. Your fears are merely making you doubt that knowledge.”

“I suppose,” Luke said slowly. “But you’ve watched over father since he was a little boy. You know everything that’s happened to him. I’ve only really spent a week with him and while sometimes I know what he is going to do, what he is thinking, other times he is a complete mystery to me. And this is one of those times.”

Concern was etched on Qui-Gon’s handsome features as he responded, “What he has with you is like nothing he’s ever experienced in the past. So what little I know is immaterial in a way. It’s all new for him, for you and for me.”

“But those things you saw, they made him the man he is today. Maybe they can help me know how to approach him now. Please tell me about him. Tell me something that happened to him that can help me,” Luke begged and grasped the front of the man’s robes.

Qui-Gon was silent for such a long time that Luke thought he would not answer. But finally, he said, “I can tell you one incident that might explain some of Anakin’s personality now.”

“Please. Anything,” Luke said.

“Perhaps we should walk? Or are you on a stakeout for him?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Stakeout. He’s not sneaking away for food, water or to use the fresher. He will face me as soon as he opens that door,” Luke said, his jaw jutting out just as his father’s did when he was determined.

“I see,” Qui-Gon said. “Well, at least, let us get more comfortable. I’m sure this will be a long vigil.”

Both men slid down to the ground. Luke tucked up his legs beneath him, while Qui-Gon spread out.

“Did your father ever tell you how he became Obi-Wan’s Padawan after my death?”

“Not really.”

The Jedi Master gave a sad smile. “As I lay dying, I made Obi-Wan swear he would teach Anakin. A death bed promise that I knew he would honor even if it would be disastrous.”

“Why disastrous?” Luke asked his heart suddenly heavy in his chest.

“Because I knew from the start that Obi and Anakin were ill-suited to one another. And worse, I had poisoned any relationship they could have had from the start,” Qui-Gon said.

“What? I can’t believe that of you!”

Qui-Gon patted Luke’s knee. “I didn’t intend it. It was done in a moment of passion.”

Luke’s stomach did a jealous flip. ‘Passion? No, Father was only six so Qui-Gon cannot mean that kind of passion,’ Luke thought and his hands unclenched.

“I threw Obi-Wan over for your father,” Qui-Gon said. “I discarded him as if he meant nothing to me. And if I am honest, compared to Anakin, he meant -- well, far less than he should have. To my shame, that is the unvarnished truth. But I should never have let Obi-Wan guess that let alone know it for certain.”

“How did he discover your feelings?”

Qui-Gon’s hands plucked at the edges of his brown outer robe as he said, “Jedi are only allowed to have one Padawan at a time, you see, so I could not take Anakin on as my student while Obi-Wan still held that place.”

“Obi-Wan hadn’t become a Master yet when you found Father?” Luke intuited.

“No, he had not. I had not even proposed that he take the Trials,” he said. “Obi wasn’t really ready to become a Master at that time. He was strong in the Force and smart, but he lacked a certain compassion. That isn’t unusual in young Jedi Knights. They are taught from their cradle that they were special, above others who did not have Force powers.” With a sad smile, Qui-Gon said, “To Obi-Wan, all non-Jedi were -- oh, how did he describe them? Oh, yes: ‘useless life-forms.’ And my penchant for helping them was distasteful to him, something to joke about, to show disdain for, as if it were some eccentricity on my part rather than a central tenet of a Jedi’s life to serve others.”

Luke thought hard about the man he knew as Ben Kenobi. Was there a sense of disdain for others who had no Force powers? He had not sensed that, but Luke realized he hadn’t sensed a lot of things about Obi-Wan. ‘Considering how he treated me, lying and trying to kill me, it seems like these days he doesn’t care much any more for those who do have Force powers!’ Luke mused.

“When did Obi-Wan become a Master?” Luke asked.

“After my death and his defeat of Darth Maul,” Qui-Gon explained.

“But he wouldn’t have become one at that time if you had lived?” Luke asked.

Qui-Gon’s restless, elegant hands stilled. “I would have ensured that he became a Master and quickly. I had no fears as to whether he would get through the Trials or not, he would succeed; they aren’t the real test anyways. It was my own doubts about his character that held him back before, but those doubts didn’t matter to me any longer.”

Luke suddenly felt Qui-Gon’s gaze on him and the boy’s eyes jerked up from his lap. The older Jedi’s face was twisted into a pained smile.

“Don’t you see, Luke, I needed Obi-Wan out of the way so that I could have Anakin. Making Obi a Master was the easiest method to accomplish that.”

“Oh! And did he know that?”

“Yes, he knew. He knew that he meant little to me after I saw Anakin. All those years we had worked side by side, all that time I had spent helping him hone his skills, preparing his mind. It was all over and unimportant to me in a split second after seeing shining blonde hair and impish blue eyes.” Qui-Gon’s head lowered, his voice muted as he said, “It was worse than a slap in the face. Obi-Wan had been considered a brilliant Jedi by everyone before Anakin’s appearance, but compared to Anakin … well, there simply was no comparison. And I was the one to make him know it.”

“That must have hurt him,” Luke said softly and he was surprised by the ache for Obi-Wan he felt. To seemingly lose Qui-Gon, his Master, to another must have hurt badly.

“Yes,” Qui-Gon said, his eyes drifting off, seeing back to those times. “And then I died and he had to train the one who was to be have been his replacement. Can you imagine it? Even though Anakin was now his Padawan, in the darkest corners of his mind, he couldn’t want Anakin to be as brilliant and strong in the Force as I knew he would be.”

“Because that would have meant that you were right in choosing Father over him?” Luke asked.

“Not exactly. Nothing can ever justify my actions towards Obi. What I did was terrible. Unforgivable. And how I did it was even worse. I did love Obi-Wan. I did value him. He was a good Padawan. But Anakin was my One. The One I had been waiting for all my life. Perhaps more than one life even. I got lost in that and treated Obi-Wan badly,” Qui-Gon responded. His hands flexed and curled into fists. “And because I was not there, Obi-Wan took out his anger and hurt towards me on Anakin.”

“Did Obi-Wan want Father to fail in his training then?” Luke asked.

“Not consciously. Obi-Wan did his best, but yes, I think deep down, Obi wanted Anakin to fall short.”

Luke could remember himself how Obi-Wan had seemed to hide both his pleasure and his displeasure with Luke’s training behind a bland mask. It had been aggravating and hurtful to not know what he was really thinking.

‘So I always assumed he was thinking the worst. If he were pleased with my progress, wouldn’t he have spoken up? Did Father feel the same? Always doubting that he was doing well, wondering what he could do more to get that approbation? And all the while that doubt eating at him, all the while Obi-Wan wished him to fail.’ Luke tucked his arms around his knees and drew them tighter against his chest.

Qui-Gon continued, “More importantly though, Obi wanted your father to feel that his place with the Jedi, with Obi himself, was tenuous at best. That he must prove himself worthy of being there every minute of every day. And that, at any moment, he could be sent back to his life as a slave.” Qui-Gon’s mouth scrunched up as though the words were acid on his tongue.

“Father was always waiting for rejection then?” Luke asked.

“Worse, he was always waiting for acceptance that never came,” Qui-Gon responded with a sharp bark of laughter. “Anakin was always reminded that he was not one of them, but merely one of my pet projects. He was the Chosen One and the Jedi behaved as if he were a charity case. They should have been honored to have him! Instead they acted as if all the gratitude should be on his side.”

Luke could imagine how that would have hurt Vader. He understood what it was like to be waiting for people to turn on you, to send you away: you’re not one of us, you’re unworthy. And Vader had been so talented, so gifted with the Force, but it hadn’t mattered. At least not to his benefit. The better he did the higher Obi-Wan had raised the bar.

“Did Father never question why they treated him that way?” Luke asked, not quite believing that Vader would take such abuse sitting down. ‘Vader’s so confident in his control of the Force and in his sense of self-worth. But he wasn’t Vader back then. He became Vader afterwards. Oh, I see …’

“He questioned all the time. But what really mattered was what he actually believed,” Qui-Gon said.

“And what did he believe?”

“That he wasn’t worthy. That he could be sent away without any thought as to his well-being. After all, I had seemingly done that with Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said and gave a strained laugh. “I had acted with such little regard towards Obi, why wouldn’t Anakin think that abandoning one’s Padawan was a normal everyday occurrence instead of an unheard of event?”

Luke was quiet for long moments. He filtered the story Qui-Gon told him through the things he had experienced with Vader, coming at last, but not least, upon their last confrontation over Damon. It suddenly all made sense.

“He believes I’ll abandon him, doesn’t he? That I’ll choose someone else over him,” Luke said. “He’s waiting for it. Just waiting for it all to fall apart.”

Qui-Gon’s head rose, a soft smile on his face. “Now you understand.”

“Thank you for telling me this.”

“It had to be said.” Qui-Gon answered. “I am glad you asked me.”

“You should tell Father this.”

Qui-Gon chuckled. “I just did.”

At that moment, the door to the cockpit slid open and Vader was framed in the threshold. Luke’s chest hurt the moment he saw him. Vader looked achingly beautiful even with his eyes hooded and mouth pressed into a tight white line. His amber eyes flicked to Qui-Gon, studiously avoiding looking at Luke. Another throb in Luke’s wounded chest.

“You two talk too loud, a man can hardly concentrate with the noise,” Vader said.

The Jedi Master’s eyebrows rose and a smile twitched at his lips. “We apologize for disturbing you, Anakin. I take it that we are well away and you have set the autopilot on a course for Tatooine?”

“Yes,” Vader answered crisply, still refusing to look at Luke.

“Good,” the Jedi Master said as he rose to his feet. “Then there is nothing to distract you from discussing things with your son.”

With that, Qui-Gon spun on his heel and with a wink at Luke strode down the corridor. Luke heard Vader mutter something under his breath in Huttese about Masters in need of lessons themselves. Luke rose up himself and summoned the courage to touch Vader’s forearm. The Dark Lord froze. The only sign he was nervous was the rapid movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Luke’s throat suddenly felt tight and dry, too.

“Will you discuss things with me, Father?” Luke asked.

Vader tilted his head towards the cockpit, allowing Luke to precede him inside. Luke couldn’t help the gasp as he caught his first glance at the Deathstryke’s controls. A small smile graced his father’s lips as Luke began to fan his hands over the consol; awe written into the boy’s every feature.

“Are these vertical thrusters? And Irgo Blasters? And are these the controls for the plasma-fusion drive? Can you adjust the heat of the--”

“Slow down, Luke. I can only answer one question at a time,” Vader said.

Luke took a chance and looked up into his father’s face as the older man sat down in the pilot’s seat while Luke settled into the co-pilot’s. Vader’s expression had become more open: his eyes shining with pride at his creation and Luke’s appreciation, his lush mouth lifted into a slight smile, and his brow smooth, the pained furrows gone. ‘So lovely.’ His looks would have taken Luke’s breath away except the boy was too busy breathing in Vader’s spicy scent. It made Luke dizzy with want and need that he clutched at the seat’s armrests to stop the world from spinning and to stop from touching Vader. How could he ever be without his father? The man made breathing glorious. His world would become grey and empty if his father were not in it.

“Before we discuss the ship’s amenities, perhaps we should talk of what occurred in the hangar bay,” Vader said, his voice softer than normal as he suddenly stared forward; all the light leaving his expression.

Luke started then slowly nodded. He hadn’t expected Vader to bring it up. His father normally avoided such discussion between them. Luke stretched out his Force senses, but he didn’t sense anger from Vader. Luke couldn’t sense anything at all. Panicked butterflies settled in his stomach. He found himself staring out at the streaks of light as well.

“What do you want to discuss about it first?”

“I want you to consider something seriously, Luke,” Vader said, his voice neutral.

“What?” Luke asked, swallowing thickly.

Vader’s eyes shut for a moment, but the rest of him was painfully still.

“Damon will only be the first of our disagreements,” Vader said.

“I don’t love Damon, Father! And I won’t abandon you! I know you heard Qui-Gon said to me. I understand why you fear me leaving you, but it’s not going to happen. I --”

Vader held one hand up and Luke fell silent.

“Even if all Qui-Gon told you was true and you took the most generous view of it and gave me every reason in the world to act as I have … it is simply not enough.” His amber eyes narrowed though and his gloved hands tightened into fists.

“I don’t understand. What is not enough?”

“It is not enough to explain why I am … what I am,” Vader said.

“And what do you think you are?” Luke asked.

“Dangerous,” Vader whispered. “To you … to everyone. And I -- I would not choose to be otherwise. Not really. Don’t you understand, Luke? At the core, Dark is what I am. And no matter if Qui-Gon had been my Master this is who I am, what I am.”

Luke’s heart lurched at Vader’s words. He remembered facing Vader over Yavin, the man’s cold determination to blow him out of the sky and allow the Deathstar to destroy a whole moon just to eradicate the Rebellion, which was housed on it. He remembered how Vader had tortured Leia and Han, sometimes for no other reason than to make them suffer. And Luke knew that Vader had slaughtered the helpless and innocent if they stood in his way. ‘Yes, he is ruthless and can be cruel. I have always known that. Even as he shows me another side of himself, his soft underbelly, he is still dangerous.’

Vader wetted his lips then said, “Luke, that there will be times where you and I will have different goals and different means to get to those. Vastly different on both counts. Because of who we are at our cores.”

Luke’s brow furrowed and he responded slowly, “We’re different people. You can’t expect us to always be as one, but that doesn’t mean -- well, it doesn’t mean anything really. We just have to talk to one another. To compromise.” Luke’s hands rose helplessly before falling into his lap.

“Yes, but have you thought of how at a fundamental level, we are very different from one another? The fact that I should be the bearer of the Dark Side and you the Light should be enough evidence that this -- this was never going to be …” Vader’s voice faded and he grimaced. His eyes flared with amber light.

Luke’s heart lurched. “This? You mean … our relationship? What was our relationship never going to be, Father?”

Vader didn’t answer him, instead he said, “You speak of compromise, but you would not compromise on Damon’s life. And I foresee other things that you will choose to hold more dearly than your love of me. You will choose those things above me. It is a part of who you are. And I cannot -- I do not … ” He shook his head violently, his dark curls falling into his eyes, which were still glowing, but suddenly that glow went dark and it was like all the strength went out of him. “I cannot risk you, Luke.”

“What are you talking about? What are you saying?” Luke asked. He has grasped the front of his own jacket. His fingers twisting the fabric until it threatened to rip.

“I told you about your mother, Luke, and her death. But not the whole of it. Or perhaps I -- I lied to myself and you. She loved me, but she was a good person. And when she saw what I was capable of -- when she saw what I wanted, she -- she merely begged me to stop. To turn away from the dark path I was walking. And I -- I …” Vader’s hand suddenly slammed against the consol. “I crushed the life from her for merely questioning me. That was enough of a betrayal. And it earned her death.”

“But you’ve changed since then! You’ve controlled your temper. What I did with Damon was far more than question you. And you have not hurt me!” Luke cried. “Not then and not now!”

“But I thought of it. I thought of pressing my advantage. Only your equal strength protected you. And there is more, Luke,” Vader said. His head falling forward so that the green lights of the consol made his skin look translucent. “You are right that I might be able to control my temper in the future to not blindly strike out at you as I did with her, but what happens when you realize that my plans are in direct opposition to what yours are? Will you stand aside and let me go forward? Or will you stand against me? There will come a time when neither of us will back down and the stakes will be too high.”

“And you will hurt me then? You will choose something over loving me, too?” Luke asked. His lips felt heavy; every word a boulder being pushed uphill.

“I don’t know,” Vader whispered. “But if the past is any indication, the closer you are to me the more likely that is.”

“You’re ending us?” Luke asked. His chest felt hollow and the words echoed in it. But like a drowning man looking for anything to keep him afloat, Luke suddenly remembered how Vader had begun this conversation. “You said that this was something for me to consider, didn’t you?”

Vader’s eyes, almost wholly black, with faint lines of amber running through them, flickered over to Luke. So much pain there that Luke’s own agony seemed smaller.

“Yes, I said that, but--”

Luke grabbed his father’s face with his hands, forcing the other man to meet his gaze squarely. “No buts. Since it is my life that most concerns you, it is my choice what we do. I have considered what you have said and determined that I do not believe you will hurt me when that moment comes. We will find a way forward. Together. Our goals will coincide. I have faith in this. I have faith in us. Enough for both of us if you do not.”

“You don’t understand the risk you take with me! You and Qui-Gon think it is a question of controlling my temper and not who I am that makes me do bad things. You are wrong! And I must protect you from myself!” Vader pulled his head from Luke’s grasp. “Damon was but a taste of what is to come. It is a warning. We should heed it. I want nothing to harm you! Yet I see that I am the very thing that can!”

“And I can harm you, Father. I was merely defending Damon, remember? I was not attacking. We are equal in power. We are both capable of inflicting great harm on each other. The choice is ours,” Luke said.

“And I am telling you that I will make the wrong choice day, Luke. Or you will make the right one and we will be at odds, young one! Do you not see it?” Vader hid his face in his hands.

Luke reached and drew Vader against him. His father’s arms were suddenly around him, clutching at him, and Vader’s face was pressed tight against Luke’s chest, the Dark Lord’s shoulders heaving. Luke began to gently rock him, his hands running up and down his father’s bowed back.

“Don’t you see, Father, that if you were as black as you paint yourself we would not be having this conversation?” Luke asked. “You would have kept silent and taken as much advantage of my love for you as you could.”

Vader’s response was muffled, but clear enough that Luke heard, “You are my heart, young one. I betray you and I will lose myself entirely to the Dark.”

“And you don’t want that,” Luke said, peace coming over him and smoothing out his features. “I think that your desire not to be devoured is enough to keep such a fate away.”

“It has not been in the past,” Vader murmured as he drew back from Luke’s chest. “This was my last chance.”

“To what?” Luke asked.

“To let you go,” Vader said. “I won’t have the strength again. You have chosen the path for us. I hope you are right about me.” He sat back in the pilot’s chair; his beautiful face pale and drawn.

‘He looks exhausted,’ Luke realized sadly. He ran a hand down his father’s cheek. Vader caught his hand and squeezed it.

“Forgive my weakness,” he said, softly, almost tonelessly, as he stared out the viewport.

“There is no weakness in this. Never when you show how you feel to me,” Luke protested.

Vader nodded.

“Now,” Luke said with forced brightness, “are you going to show me some of the special features of the Deathstryke?”

A small smile graced Vader’s lips, which quickly grew into a grin as their gazes met. “I suppose I should. Eager to take your father’s ship out for a spin?”

“Always,” Luke said and laughed. “Uhm, I was wondering if maybe – maybe I could – oh, no, forget about it.” Luke ducked his head and blushed. He couldn’t ask this. It was silly and childish.

“Young one?” Vader asked. He tipped Luke’s head up.

“I want to sit in your lap!” Luke blurted out.

Vader stared, blinked, stared some more and then started to smile. “Oh, is this one of those fantasies we started talking about before?”

Luke knew his cheeks were bright red, but he wasn’t going to back down. “I always dreamed as a child that you’d hold me in your lap and show me how a ship worked. I – I – know its stupid, but –“

Vader pressed a finger over Luke’s lips to quiet him. “Its not stupid. Such a thing could never be stupid.”

His father adjusted the seat so that it was far enough back from the console that they wouldn’t be squished. Vader patted the tops of his thighs and smiled welcomingly at him. Luke felt his stomach tremble and suspiciously tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He quickly blinked them away and went to sit on Vader’s lap.

It should have been awkward with Luke being far too big for such a thing, but somehow it wasn’t. Vader shifted him so that the Dark Lord’s chin was resting lightly on Luke’s shoulder and his arms slipped underneath Luke’s. He felt cradled. Cared for. Safe. Luke shut his eyes for a minute and just sank back against Vader. His father said nothing, recognizing exactly what Luke needed. He wrapped his arms around Luke’s middle and held him tight.

“I love you,” Luke said hoarsely as his hands covered his father’s. “You’ve meant everything to me since the day I was born. Maybe even before.”

Vader held him closer.

“Please, you mustn’t ever end us, Father, because,” Luke swallowed, tears flowing freely now, “because it would kill me. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know I’d rather you thrust your light saber into my heart than end us?”

Vader shuddered. “I’d never do that, Luke. Never. I – I couldn’t. I’d rather die myself than hurt you.”

Luke smiled even as the tears rained down as he realized what Vader had said and the absolute certainty with which he’d said it. “You’ve answered your own question, Father, as to whether I’m safe with you or not. I am.”

He twisted around to face Vader. His father’s eyes were glowing slightly, but not with an angry or pained light. The Dark Lord seemed rather amazed at his own revelation, but underneath that, he felt ...

‘At peace. He feels at peace,’ Luke realized.

Vader laughed. It was a light sound. “I won’t. I won’t hurt you. It won’t overcome me again. I – I know that now. How could I not before? I was so convinced I might hurt you after Damon, but – but the thought is so – so abhorrent. I just won’t do it. No matter how angry I get. No matter what. I love you. More than my self or anything the Dark Side can offer me.”

“I know. I’ve always known,” Luke whispered.

“Yes, you have. And for that – thank the Force,” his father said.

Vader tugged him in for a kiss. His father’s lips were like velvet against his own. Luke felt an incredible thirst for that taste. He drank it down and sucked on his father’s tongue like it was a straw. Vader chucked into their kiss at Luke’s eagerness. Luke began to laugh, too, but his mirth was suddenly cut off as he experienced blinding pain. It felt as through an ice pick had been driven through his skull. He gasped and pitched forward into Vader’s chest.

“Luke? Luke what is it?” Vader asked, trying to get Luke to pull back so he could see his face.

But Luke couldn’t respond and he clutched his father’s jacket, resisting being pulled back, because it was the only thing anchoring him from the excruciating pain.

“Luke! Lu—“ Vader’s voice went fuzzy then was gone altogether.

Then all Luke heard was Yoda.

‘To Dagobah you must come, young Jedi,’ Yoda sent. ‘Your sister, Obi-Wan, grave danger. Save them you must.’

Luke was gritting his jaw so hard that his jaw ached when he finally was released from the Yoda’s call. His head throbbed with the most massive headache he had ever had.

“Luke!” Vader was standing, practically carrying Luke, clearly ready to rush him to Medbay.

“I’m okay. It’s okay,” Luke got out.

“You’re not all right!” Vader shouted, holding Luke to him as he slammed the press plate for the door.

Qui-Gon was suddenly in the open cockpit’s doorway. “What happened? Padawan? Luke? What just occurred?”

“It was Yoda,” Luke said, still holding his pounding head. “We have to go to Dagobah. Something terrible is happening there.”