A Vacation ... Where?

Danielle stepped out of his arms and turned to look at him, but said nothing.

He sighed. “I told you.”

She looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve done horrible things. You’ve seen enough already, and that was just over a short time span. I killed both of my mentors, my wife, my unborn child, the most venerated member of the Jedi Order, and over three-fourths of the Senate.”

“That’s true.”

“And that’s not all of it. That was only in the first two days.”

“Then show me the rest.”

He took her head in his hands.

‘This is what I’ve done,’ he thought, as images of bodies piled in her mind. ‘All of these people disagreed with me in some way that I decided warranted death. Sometimes I sent squads, but most of the time I had them brought to me. At first, each swing of my lightsaber cut me, as well, but as time went on, I found that I liked what I was doing. I _liked_ the pleas for mercy. Each show of false bravado, each tearful breakdown – they were what I woke up for every morning. I was at my most content sitting in my interrogation room, watching the body of the morning cool on the other side of the room.

It became my only release.’

She saw prisoners begging for their lives; people summarily executed without trial; insurrectionists killed and put on display as warnings to others.

‘One morning, I woke up and realized that I was turning into the same kind of monster Sidious was; that I didn’t care whose lives I destroyed as long as I got my way and everyone agreed with me. During my studies of the temple holocrons, I discovered a way to portal. I decided that if I was ever going to change, I would have to remove myself from the temptation. That’s when I started coming here.’

She stepped back. “So you’ve only been ruler for a few years?”

“Yes. Four, to be exact. And I’ve spent those four convincing systems that I mean what I say. I will have things done my way, or people will pay the penalty. And when systems didn’t need ‘convincing’ … I demonstrated my point just because I could.”

“Anakin, I ….”

He turned away from her and began pacing the room. “The first nine years of my life were fantastic. We didn’t have a lot, but at least my mother understood me, wanted me to do well, and did what she could to provide for us. She even saw how much I wanted to become a Jedi like Qui-Gon and told me I should follow that dream no matter what.”

“You were very lucky, Anakin. A lot of children don’t have parents like that.”

“Oh yeah? She was the one who told me I _should_ go with the Jedi … and look what happened! Betrayed by both my wife and my best friend, and I’ve turned into someone my mother would never let in her house, let alone accept as her son!” He threw up his hands. “Why did she make me go?” His voice caught and he turned to stare silently out the window.

“Anakin … she couldn’t have known what was going to happen. Even _you_ didn’t know, and you have visions of things that are to come. She didn’t send you off so you could be miserable. I’m sure that watching you chase Qui-Gon down that street broke her heart ... but she was hoping that she was sending you to a better life.” She laid a hand on his forearm. “Do you really think your mother would willingly send you away if she knew that you were going to be hurt?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered sullenly.

Danielle grabbed his arm. “Yes, you do! Stop playing this ‘Poor, poor me!’ game for a minute, and realize that sometimes, bad things are going to happen, and that you can’t change that.”

He yanked his arm away. “Then what’s the point of the visions if I can’t do anything about them? What kind of sick Force gift is that? Just so I can be miserable both before and after the tragedy happens?”

“Maybe this is a wild guess … but perhaps they’re there in order to give you a heads up on the kind of trials you’re going to face. Most people would give their right arms to know what they were going to have to deal with! Instead of looking at this like a curse, find something positive in it.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Danielle.”

“No, I don’t, Anakin. But I know that dwelling on things that cause you pain, and on the grimmer aspects of life, will turn you into a bitter husk of a man. You’re already at the point where you’re so emotionally stunted that you have to kill people to feel anything – doesn’t that tell you something?” She stepped closer to him. “I know that’s not how you want to live the rest of your life.”

“No!” he roared. “I won’t listen to this! I don’t need your lectures!” He stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Danielle stared at the closed door. “What the _fuck_?” she muttered. “I’ve never seen anyone more bi-polar in my goddamn life.” She removed her boots, tossed her clothes aside, and drew a peignoir over her head. She knocked on the bathroom door.

“Are you coming out sometime tonight?”

Silence was the only reply.

“Fine! Act like you’re four! I’m going to bed; I hope the bathtub’s comfortable!” She turned the covers down with a huff, threw herself on the bed, and curled up in a ball, trying to will herself to sleep.

*

Four hours later, she woke up and looked blearily around the room. Anakin was silhouetted against the window, watching the lightly falling snow. She got out of bed, shuffled over to him, and slipped her arm around his waist. He looked down at her.

“Those non-skid fish made that bathtub way too uncomfortable to sleep in,” he said with a small smile.

She chuckled. “So you decided to stand and stare out the window?”

“I guess I got mesmerized.” He beckoned toward the window.

The snow had been falling for some time, covering the city in a shimmering blanket. Streetlamps cast a faint yellow glow over everything, and large flakes lazily drifted through the light beams. A solitary car made its way down the side street their window faced.

“That’s snow,” she said. “Haven’t you ever seen snow before?”

He thought about it. “No … no, I haven’t.”

“Well, get dressed and get your coat; we’re going outside.”

“Now? It’s two in the morning!”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Well, no.” He looked out the window once more, and a grin spread across his face. “Okay, let’s go.” He pulled a black t-shirt over his head and grabbed his coat as Danielle got into her jeans and put on her hoodie. She tossed him a glove.

“You’ll want this, too,” she said as she reached for her own. She put hers in her hoodie pocket and took his arm. “Ready?”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

*

Anakin pulled on her arm just outside the door of the hotel. “Hang on,” he said. He cautiously stretched his hands out and watched the flakes land on his gloves.

Danielle smiled. “Come on, silly, they don’t hurt.” She gave him a gentle shove toward the sidewalk. “I think there’s a park down the street; we can go over there,” she said.

He didn’t answer, and she looked over at him. He was watching the falling flakes, the buildup of snow on the trees and cars, studying the tire tracks along the road. She smiled at the snowflakes caught on his long lashes as they meandered down the sidewalk. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“This is beautiful,” he said in a near-whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“This is my favorite time of year,” she answered. “The park is just over this rise.”

As they came over the top of the hill, Anakin stopped short. “What is _that_?” he exclaimed, pointing toward the center of the park.

“It’s a Christmas tree,” she said. “At this time of year, we decorate evergreen trees to celebrate Christmas.”

“What’s Christmas?”

“Well, it first had its origins with Christians – a predominate religion in parts of the world – trying to convince pagans – a different religion – to be Christian. They decided that Christmas – the holiday celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth-“

Anakin interrupted. “Who’s that?”

She sighed. “I’ve never tried to explain this to someone with _no idea_ about it before. I’m not religious, so I might get this wrong.”

He nodded. “It’s okay; just tell me what you know.”

She smiled. “Jesus Christ is the person Christians believe is the literal son of their God. They believe he came to Earth to save humanity from itself. And Christmas is the holiday they use to celebrate his birth.”

“I see.”

“Well, anyway … so, Jesus is believed to have been born in April, but because the Christians wanted the pagans to be Christians-“

Anakin interrupted her again. “Why didn’t they want them to just be pagans, if that’s what those people believed?”

“Because a lot of religions are quite intolerant of all others.”

Anakin nodded knowingly. “Like the Jedi and the Sith.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Never really thought about it that way, but yeah.”

“Okay, continue.”

“So, they wanted the pagans to convert. Instead of leaving Christ’s birthday celebration in the spring, they moved it to coincide with a pagan winter holiday to make Christianity more palatable to the pagans.”

Anakin pondered for a moment. “So, basically, people couldn’t get along and used celebrations to deceive each other. All in the name of your god.”

She nodded. “Basically.”

“And no one saw anything wrong with that?”

“Some did … but back then, those people were probably socially ostracized and cast out of the church.”

“Harsh.”

“It’s no different than what you went through, is it?”

“That’s true. Come on, I want to go look at this tree.”

They made their way across the park. “So, is it still a very religious celebration?”

Danielle shrugged. “Quite a few people still celebrate the religious aspect – even people who don’t go to church the rest of the year try to go on Christmas. In general, though, it’s become more about Christmas carols, shopping, presents, and a huge dinner with family members that you only see this one time a year.”

“It sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, for the most part. Decorating the tree is one of my favorite parts of this time of year.”

“I didn’t see one at your house,” he said.

“I haven’t had time to go buy one yet. Some people use artificial trees; I have to have a real one every year. Maybe we can do that when we go back.”

“I’d like that.” He walked around the brightly lit tree. “It looks like people put a lot of time into this.”

“It’s quite the popular tradition,” she said. “The capital has a huge tree, along with carriage rides and Christmas light displays.”

“Can we go see that?”

“What, this weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“We won’t have time, Anakin. I have to be back to work on Monday.”

“Well,” he said determinedly, “we’ll go back, I’ll get everything taken care of this next week, and then we can go.”

“What do you mean by ‘taken care of’, Anakin?”

“I can’t stay here, Danielle. I joined the Marines mostly to see if I could hack it. I did, and it was fun, but no matter how competent my governors are, I can’t leave the Empire running itself. I have to get rid of my service record; I’m so new that they won’t miss me, anyway.”

She bit her lip and looked away. “I see.”

He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “And you start your … what’s it called, terminal leave? You start that in two weeks, don’t you?”

“How did you know that?”

“Your request was on the desk in my office.”

“That’s right. Lieutenant Kent buried it in his inbox and forgot it before he left.”

“Well, I’m going to authorize your leave to start after next week. Your replacement is already down here, correct?”

“Yes. He’s normally there, but he had some personal issues to take care of on Friday.”

“So, you’re going to start your leave next Monday,” he said with finality. “And once you’re on leave, we can go to the capital and see all these trees and lights you’re telling me about. We’ll have … Christmas up there.”

“What am I supposed to do with my house, Anakin?”

“The same thing I’m doing with my Empire, Danielle – just let it take care of itself while you’re gone. There’s nothing that can’t be fixed when you get back.”

She looked at him, then ran a hand through his hair, scattering snowflakes right and left. He started grinning even before she answered.

“Oh … what the hell? I’ve always wanted to go on one of those carriage rides, anyway.”

“You haven’t gone on one?”

“Nope. Never managed to make it up there.”

“Okay. So what we’re going to do is rent a house, and-“

“Rent a house? Anakin, house leases are for a year or more! How are you going to rent a house for 3 weeks?”

“Well, obviously, you’re going to live there, aren’t you?”

“I am? What if I want to live somewhere else?”

“Well, if you want to live somewhere else, then we should go there when you start your leave.” He paused. “But they’ll have a big tree, and lights, and carriage rides too, right?”

She laughed. “Yes, Anakin, they’ll have them.”

“So where do you want to live?”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Salt Lake City. Less expensive than Denver, with just as much skiing.”

“If that’s what will make you happy, then that’s what I want to do,” he said. He took her hand, kissed it, and pulled her close. “Thank you.”

“For what? Not that you’re not welcome, of course.”

“For not leaving me here, even though you should have after what I did.”

“That may be, but it wouldn’t have been right, Anakin. Besides, I like ya.”

He hugged her. “I like you, too. Even when you talk back … I think.”