Forbidden

Guys! Sorry about the formatting of this chapter earlier. I tried to upload it as an HTML and it ... didn't work all that well with the version of Explorer I was using. So I fixed the problems I hope! Thank you thank you thank you for all the beautiful reviews so far for this piece. I'm overwhelmed and so happy happy happy!

First part is in Vader's POV, but he can hear all of Luke's thoughts so keep that in mind. Second part is in Luke's POV. Third part is in Vader's POV again. The stuff with Owen may offend some readers so I warn you that it contains some nasty abuse. So if you don't like that stuff keep that in mind, skim to the second part.

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CHAPTER EIGHT: BEYOND THE BURNING

Vader slipped effortlessly into Luke’s memories. He was placed in the position of observer: voiceless and invisible to those persons in the memory, but not totally bodiless as he could feel Tatooine’s twin suns broiling the air around him and taste sand, hard, dry and gritty. It brought back memories that were both harsh and warm. He almost thought for a moment that he was late leaving Watto’s shop and his mother would be waiting for him expectantly with cool ruikan juice and nan sweets. But Vader was snapped back to himself when he saw a slightly younger version of Luke than the one he now knew run over a sand dune and enter the courtyard of a homestead.

After a moment, he recognized the place as the Lars homestead. It was where he had visited with Padme when he went searching for his mother. ‘Obi-Wan was bold to bring the boy to people I knew … to a place I had been. He didn’t even change Luke’s last name … or perhaps the Lars wouldn’t allow him to take on theirs. My old master must have been very certain I thought Luke dead to have been so arrogant. Pity he was right this time. If only there had been a whisper of Luke’s existence, I would have gotten him immediately.’

He followed the boy’s footsteps in the sand down into the courtyard. Luke was dressed all in white, had shaggier hair and more coltish movements than the boy’s now Jedi-honed grace. His son threaded his fingers through those wild locks and gave a guilty glance around, looking for someone, or perhaps rather hoping not to see someone. Vader then realized that he knew all of Luke’s thoughts, both coherent and not, at the time this memory took place.

The Dark Lord knew, for instance, that Luke was worried because he was late for chores. Luke had stayed after school to use the library’s holovid and interspace research net. Uncle Owen loathed letting him attend school at all and would hit the roof if he knew Luke was using precious daylight hours to scan the net after classes ended, even for purely educational purposes. Educational, however, would not describe the tenor of his current searches.

The boy chewed his inner cheek. He had been using those school resources to find a certain planet, one with a spectacular beach. A planet the boy had no way of knowing whether it really existed or not. Luke thought, ‘And even if it does, what will that prove? My father’s dead. And he wouldn’t be so young even in the off chance he didn’t die in that frigate explosion.’ But something told him to keep looking, keep seeking, even as Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru discouraged him from even asking simple questions about his father. Didn’t they understand that only whetted his need to know more? Their reticence to speak of Anakin Skywalker meant there was something to speak about.

Besides, his time wasn’t truly being wasted, because while searching for the planet, Luke also watched videos of Lord Vader espousing the benefits of becoming an Imperial trooper, pilot or officer; videos his uncle had forbidden him to watch. And wasn’t Lord Vader amazing? So strong and sleek and charismatic and what would it feel like to have the attention of someone like that on him? Luke was going to apply to the Imperial Flight Academy as soon as he was of legal age. Maybe if he was a good enough pilot, as good as his father, he’d get to meet the Dark Lord one day, maybe Vader would see the potential in Luke. The boy could almost feel the weight of one of Vader’s great hands on his shoulders, sliding down the front of his chest to just above his groin … there was a flash of heat and hardness and Luke shivered as his imagination seemed unable to take him further. ‘Am I sex crazed or what? Like Vader would ever want anything like that with me! Got to keep it under control.’

Vader chuckled at Luke’s chastisement. There was something about the boy so inherently sensual yet innocent that even if Luke had been a nameless pilot in the Imperial fleet, without Force powers, if Vader had caught sight of him, the boy would have been in his bed post haste.

Vader lost himself in Luke’s actions and thoughts again. He watched as Luke crept over to one of the domed shelters in the courtyard. The boy opened the door and reached inside for the tools to fix the vaporators. The ones in the North field were acting up again. ‘I swear sometimes I think Uncle Owen goes out there and messes with them just so he can keep me occupied doing chores and not hanging out with Biggs or flying in Beggar’s Canyon. Shesh, no one else’s vaporators fail like ours do.’ But Luke immediately felt bad for such thoughts. He knew that the vaporators the Lars’ owned were old and prone to break down as all things did in the harshness of Tatooine’s climate.

Plus, he felt he shouldn’t resent a few chores. After all the Lars took him in after his parents’ deaths, which, with the moisture farmers’ poverty, the thought of another hungry mouth to feed must have been a daunting task. Yes, he should be grateful to them even though they were distant, even though sometimes it felt like he was just another useful droid to help in the fields, but one who they had to feed food instead of fuel.
With that last unwelcome thought, Luke didn’t reproach himself too much when he wished, not for the first time and not for the last, that his father were alive.

His father would never make him feel like a glorified servant. His father and he would travel the galaxy together, exploring gorgeous new worlds, encountering alien species, having adventures. He blushed furiously. ‘If we were together though would I still have those dreams about him? Still want him to kiss me, touch me, set my veins on fire?’ Luke took a shuddery breath and wiped his suddenly sweat drenched forehead. He gathered his tools and walked around the domed shelter almost right into Uncle Owen.

“Uncle! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” Luke began with a sweet smile until he caught sight of a familiar datapad in Owen’s hands. Luke felt he couldn’t breath. “Where … where did you get that?”

The man’s grizzled jaw clenched tighter. His eyes, used to squinting under the twin suns, were focused on Luke with startling clarity. “I found this where you hid it.”

Luke and Vader could see that the datapad’s lock had been breached. The boy believed he could feel the emotions he had set down in the pad streaming out into the heated late afternoon air. The dreams of his father and him adventuring, but also the one wherein his father kissed him and caressed him as no father should, but which made Luke feel like the center of the universe and caused heat to cascade through him like liquid. But now his veins seemed filled with ice instead of fire as he realized that his uncle had seen that particular dream, had glimpsed his most treasured and shameful secret.

Owen slid the datapad into an inner pocket of his robes and Luke wanted to scream for him to give it back. He had nothing of his father’s, only his dreams, and Owen was taking those away, too. But he knew such a demand would be a bad idea. ‘Oh, gods, he looks as if he wants to kill me!’ Vader agreed with that assessment and clenched his hands into fists.

Luke swallowed hard. “Uncle … I can explain …”

The blow when it came was completely unexpected to the boy, but not to Vader. The Dark Lord moved to intercept it. Vader gave out a strangled ‘NO’ as Owen’s hand went right through him as if he weren’t there and connected with Luke’s cheek. Vader turned only to see Luke’s head snap back and the beginnings of a purple bruise bloom on the boy’s face like some poisonous flower. Luke stumbled, the tools he held spilling from his hands. He landed with a painful thump on his right hip on the ground. Luke looked up at his uncle with wide, shocked eyes.

Owen growled, “How could you … we raised you … yet somehow he’s managed to corrupt you even so. I must put an end to this. I will put an end to this.”

“Uncle, please, they are just dreams. He’s ... father’s gone. They could never come true!”

Owen laughed bitterly. “Luke, dreams are the deepest wishes our souls make. They reflect who we truly are. And your soul … Luke, it yearns for such … wrongness.”

Pain flickered through those ethereal colored eyes, sending knife-like sensations into Vader’s heart. The boy believed his uncle’s condemnation. Luke put up one hand in supplication. Owen reached down and grabbed that hand, yanking Luke to his feet, straining the tendons in Luke’s shoulder. The teen gave out a small cry, but bit it back when his uncle raised his free hand as if to strike him again.

“Don’t cry out! You have no right to cry out.”

Owen pulled the stunned teenager after him, dragging Luke to a small hut at the far side of the courtyard. Vader helplessly rushed after them, outrage warring with gut churning anxiety of what was to come, because underneath Owen’s anger, Vader saw something he knew all too well. There were officers he’d known that developed a taste for inflicting pain. A pleasure in it. And Force help his son, the look those officers had in their eyes as they went to torture a prisoner was in Owen Lars’ eyes as he pushed Luke into the dark, enclosed space of the hut.

The boy went flying across the room and struck the opposite wall. Vader had to stop himself from trying to use his Force powers to deflect the impact. The Dark Lord repeated, ‘This has already happened. I can do nothing. There is nothing to be done.’ But it was cold comfort.

Luke turned shakily from the wall towards his uncle. His lower lip was bleeding from hitting the wall. His hands were up in front of him to ward off blows and his eyes were so huge they seemed to take up his whole face. Owen slammed the door shut behind him, the interior lights flickering on, bathing them both in a sickly yellow glow. He paced the small room like a caged animal. His large, coarse hands opened and closed spasmodically.

“Take off your tunic,” he growled and Vader gasped.

“What? Why?” Luke’s voice was small.

Owen’s pacing froze and he pivoted to face Luke, his hands fisted at his sides. “Take off your tunic, Luke, or I will rip it off of you.”

Vader knew the boy’s natural reaction was to obey his guardians. But he still watched in horror as the boy’s hands moved like restless birds to do as he was commanded. With numb fingers, Luke managed to get the knot undone of his cloth belt and slipped the garment from his slim shoulders. His skin was golden. The muscles in his chest sleek yet still carrying the softness and roundness of a younger teen. His nipples were dark pink. Owen’s eyes fastened on them and he licked his lips, but Luke, thankfully to Vader’s mind, only half-saw and even less understood the gesture. With the tunic in his hands, Luke stared up at his uncle. Owen stared back for long moments. Then he yanked a length of rope down from a hook on the wall.

“Put your hands out together in front of you,” Owen instructed.

“I … why do you want me to ….”

Luke cringed as Owen’s hands tightened on the rope.

“You will do as I say, Luke.”

“No, I’m … no!”

Luke scuttled backwards against the wall and rose to his feet, his self-preservation kicking in finally as the shock wore off. Vader wanted to cheer. ‘Yes, he thought, ‘defy him. Use that fire you show me and protect yourself!’

Owen spoke softly, “If you do not do as I say, I will lock you out of the compound tonight.”

Vader growled low in his throat. The Sand People … surely Owen realized that they would scent the boy? He had his answer soon enough.

Owen continued, “You won’t be able to get to another homestead before dark and the Sand People have been active in our area. Just this morning, I found the remains of one of their camps in the South field. They’ll undoubtedly camp closer tonight, testing our perimeters. They’ll find you. They’ll drain you of your fluids slowly. And you’ll … die.”

Vader’s gaze flicked between Luke and Owen. He wanted to scream at Luke to run. The boy would have a chance in the desert, but he’d have no chance at all if he gave up his freedom to this man. It was more than Vader’s instincts that told him this. Vader could hear some of Owen’s thoughts, because Luke had been able to back then even though he did not realize it. Owen intended to do something monstrous to Luke. It was like a black-winged shadow coloring the moisture farmer’s mind.

“Aunt Beru won’t let you do that! She wouldn’t--”

“After I show her what you wrote in the datapad about Anakin ‘Sithspawn’ Skywalker, she won’t raise a hand to save you.”

“Don’t call my father that!” But despite his brave words, Luke’s face went gray under his tan. He knew that no one would understand his fantasies about his father. They would be horrified. He could imagine the look of disgust on Aunt Beru’s kind face as she turned away from him for once and all as something unclean. “Don’t tell her … please, don’t!”

“Then … hold. Out. Your. Hands. Now. Or walk out that door into the desert and never come back.”

Trembling, tears suddenly spilling out of those blue eyes like rivers, Luke raised his hands out in front of him, palms together. The rope was wound around them, once, twice, three, four times and tied tightly, cutting off precious circulation to his son’s hands.

“Now … kneel.”

Luke’s legs seemed to just give out on him. He was down on his knees, head bowed, body shaking uncontrollably. Luke whimpered as Owen’s hands went to the leather belt with the metal buckle around his waist. Owen circled the boy as he slid the belt loose from his body. He raised his arm above his head, the belt slithering down his back like a snake.

“You brought this on yourself, Luke. I do this to help you,” Owen said softly, as his eyes fixed on the bowed body before him.

Vader laughed hysterically at the absurdity of Owen’s statement, but Luke’s only response was to hunch his shoulders.

“The sickness,” Owen’s voice shook slightly, “the sickness you wrote in that datapad. Wanting your own father … like that … like … Skywalker blood is tainted. It always has been. It always will be. But I will stop you from falling further.”

Luke shook his head violently, courage returning as he raised those crystalline blue eyes up to face Owen. “I may be …wrong inside … but my father wasn’t! Don’t blame him for what I am!”

Vader wanted to retch. His son was innocent and good and pure in ways that people normally never were and he was rejected for that. This one dream with its few kisses was nothing truly evil.

Owen said, “You don’t know your father, Luke. You have no idea what imprint he left on you. It is my job to try to exercise from you as much of him as I can.”

The belt whistled through the air, the buckle connecting with soft flesh with a snapping sound, gouging open Luke’s lower back. Vader tried to stop the blow from falling. He threw himself across Luke’s body, but nothing worked. The belt passed through him just as Owen’s hand had earlier. This was a memory and he had not been there to take the blows for his son. Not been there to rip Owen Lars into bloody pieces. Not been there to stop him from saying ugly, hateful things to his beloved child. Luke didn’t scream until the seventh stroke, even as blood ran down his back in torrents.

There was froth on Owen’s lips like sea foam. It sprayed across the boy’s shoulders with every strike. He never spoke as he flayed the skin from Luke’s lower back. Finally, his arm tired and he stopped the whipping. Luke had slumped down into a limp pile on the ground. He had stopped screaming some time before and was hardly conscious. Blood pooled around his body like a red lake. The only sound in the room was Owen’s harsh breaths and a keening wail that Vader realized was coming from his own lips. His son. His son! Oh, Force, what this man had done to his son! And it wasn’t over. Vader knew that. The only solace was that Owen had not tented the front of his trousers from whipping the boy into near unconsciousness.

After what seemed like hours, but was closer to a quarter of a standard hour, Owen prodded Luke’s side with one boot. “Get up, boy.”

Nearly unconscious from pain and loss of blood, Luke managed to lift himself to a sitting position. The boy’s face was sickly white, his blues eyes glassy and unfocused. Owen caught a hold of the tail ends of the rope that bound the boy’s wrists. He pulled on the rope and hauled Luke to his feet. The boy swayed, but managed to stay upright. Owen tugged Luke forward, leading him back out into the courtyard. The dying of the twin suns cast a red glow over the sandstone buildings. Vader walked by Luke’s side as Owen lead them out of the courtyard and into the surrounding desert. Blood drops from Luke’s back left a crimson trail in their wake.

Owen took them to an old wrecked speeder, half-buried in the sand. The farmer tied Luke’s wrists to the metal bumper. The boy was hardly conscious of what was happening until Owen handed him the datapad. Luke clutched it tight to his naked chest.

Owen grunted. “Even after the punishment, you still cling to that foulness.”

Luke’s words were slightly slurred and hoarse from his earlier screaming, “It is all I have … of my father. You will tell me nothing about him … you say that you have none of his things. This is all I have of him.”

Owen gave a slow smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Vader felt his heart clench.

“I see that in order to break you of your obsession with your father … something else must break. I want you to destroy the datapad, Luke.”

Luke’s brow furrowed, he swayed a bit from side to side. “Destroy …”

“You have a choice,” Owen continued softly, “you can break the datapad right now and we will go inside, get you cleaned up and give you food. This … your foul desires … will never be talked about again. We can go on as we have been. Or--”

Luke was shaking. The boy’s hands tightened on the datapad. “I cannot break it. I will not.”

Owen clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together. “Or if you do not break it now … you will be tied out here. Day and night. No food. No water. Until you break it.”

Luke’s sweet face, pale as cream from loss of blood, set into a determined scowl. “I will not break it. I will not betray my father.”

Vader gasped. Is that what the boy thought? It was a datapad filled with information from Luke’s own mind, not even something Vader had ever touched. Even if it had been Vader’s most precious possession it wouldn’t have mattered to the Dark Lord. He wanted to shout at the boy to break the damn thing, get inside, and heal himself. ‘Don’t play Owen’s game son. Do not make that object into something it is not!’ But he saw the stubborn set of Luke’s shoulders. The boy would resist, would defy. Luke believed that breaking the datapad meant that he was abandoning his love of his father so he would not do it. Luke would not allow Owen to have his way on the surface so that he could live to fight another day. ‘My child had that damn Jedi martyr complex without the training!’ Perhaps though if Owen left Luke alone, the child would be able to untie himself from the fender and escape to another homestead. Vader hoped, but he knew it was a vain hope.

Owen nodded. “I am not surprised at your attitude, Luke. The Skywalker taint is too heavy with you to get it out easily. I am prepared to wait.”

Owen fished out a communicator from his vest. “Beru, I need you to bring the lean-to, the laser rifle and dinner for one out to the north-west perimeter. Don’t question this … just bring the things I’ve requested.”

Luke shakily settled himself down on the still warm sand, drawing his legs up tight to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. He had hopes that Aunt Beru would save him, would convince his uncle that this was insane. But the boy was prepared to sit out here as long as it took to show his uncle he would not break. The welts from the beating were like brands on Luke’s soul, giving him courage. Vader was amazed the boy was not reacting with anger and hatred. Instead, Luke was calm. The Dark Lord could not say the same of himself. He was seething with such black rage that he expected to see darkness broiling around the invisible form he held in Luke’s memories. He stared at Owen with an utter hatred he had not felt before for any living being.

Beru appeared moments later with a droid helper bringing the things Owen requested. She gave out a horrified cry at the sight of Luke’s battered body.

“Luke! Gods, what has happened?” She went to rush to the boy’s side as he heavily got to his feet. But Owen caught her arm and held her back. “Owen? What is the meaning of this?”

Luke and Owen stared at each other for long moments.

“Luke, do you want to tell her or should I?”

Luke swallowed hard. Beru would know his forbidden thoughts after all. His shoulders drooped, but then he straightened them. “I … I had a dream of my father … my father … kissing me.”

“Oh,” Beru looked between the two men, uncertain. “A dream?”

“I wrote it down in a datapad. Uncle Owen found it and … whipped me for it. Now he wants me to break the datapad before he’ll let me go inside.”

Beru’s mouth was open and her throat worked. “Owen, why?”

“Why?” Owen tottered back. “How can you ask—”

“But Owen, it’s just a dream. No harm—”

“He desires Anakin Skywalker! His own father and you question me?” Owen clutched her shoulder and whispered something more fiercely in her ear. Luke could not hear what they said so neither could he, but Vader could read Owen’s lips. Vader’s name was mentioned. Beru paled. She protested, but Owen’s lips were pressed into a tight line.

“He has to be broken of it, Beru. You must trust me on this,” Owen said.

She looked miserably between the two men. “Please, Luke, just break the pad. End this.”

Luke felt cold inside and out. Beru would not save him. She would insist he destroy the pad, betray his father, and he could never do that. He shook his head and sank back down to sit. Owen set out up the lean-to with the droid’s assistance. Beru looked on, wringing here hands, her lower lip trembling as she saw the extent of Luke’s suffering. Finally, Owen sat down under the lean-to, his laser rifle to one side and plastiglas containers of food and water to the other. The scent of roasted meat and vegetable stew made Luke alternately sick then famished. The water though tortured him. The clear liquid drew his eyes even as he tried to force them to look anywhere else. The loss of blood had dehydrated him. Owen took a deep drink from the bottle, wiping a drip from his chin with the back of one hand. Luke licked his parched lips and tried to shift so that his back was not screaming at him in agony.

“Go on into the shelter, Beru. No need for a third person to suffer out here due to Luke’s stubbornness.”

Beru dithered a moment longer. “Luke, just break the datapad. For gods’ sake, please!”

“I won’t betray my father,” Luke said simply and let his chin rest against his chest. He hardly heard her leave.

Luke closed his eyes as the suns finally set. A chill evening breeze started, blowing sand that stuck to the now-tacky blood of Luke’s lacerated back. He shivered. As hot as the desert was during the days, the nights were freezing and Luke only had on a thin pair of pants. His tunic had been left on the floor of the hut. He protectively placed the datapad between his thighs and chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. Vader knelt on the sand beside him, invisible ghostly hands trying to pet his son’s shoulders and hair.

Luke must have dozed for a time for the memory world changed. The moon was suddenly high in the sky. Luke began shaking uncontrollably. His forehead felt feverish. Vader knew Luke’s back wounds were infected, plus the shock of what had happened to his young body was taking its toll on the teen. Owen was still awake.

“I thought I heard the cries of some Sand People a little while back,” Owen said conversationally.

The empty container of food had been removed, but the one with water had been refreshed. Luke’s throat ached for just a sip.

Owen continued, “They sounded near. I have to say Luke that if we’re still out here when they come … I might not be able to hold them off us. I might have to retreat and … leave you for them.”

“Do you …” Luke’s voice sounded sand-paper raw. “Do you hate me that much, Uncle?”

Owen shifted in the lean-to, his face a white smear in the darkness. “I don’t hate you, Luke. I’m trying to stop you from becoming a man I would hate, the universe would hate.”

“You think,” Luke tried to focus on the words, it was so hard suddenly, “you think I’m awful just because I love … love my father?”

“Love and lust are a little mixed up for you, aren’t they?”

“No … there were dozens of dreams I had of father that I wrote in the datapad. Only the one … there was only one where he kissed me like that. I do love him.” Luke shivered and sweated. The sand stuck to his wounds was agonizing.

Owen’s voice was soft when he said, “Do you think he would love you if he knew the way you felt about him?”

Luke’s stomach flooded with acid at the thought. He wasn’t sure. But he’d always felt that his father wouldn’t hate him for it. Maybe even … “He’d understand.”

Vader thought, ‘Yes, I would understand. I do understand. Always understand. Would never hurt you for loving me. Never.’ He crouched down by his son again, aching to put his arms around him.

Owen asked, “What would he understand?”

Luke’s vision was blurring. He could hardly see Owen in the lean-to. It looked like a yawning pit of blackness. “He’d understand that I … that I need him so much that I … love him so much that I want to be everything for him.”

Owen moved, but Luke didn’t see him do it as the fever ripped at his senses. One of the man’s rough, farm-calloused hands rested on Luke’s sweaty forehead for a moment. Luke jerked back, falling onto his wounds and gave an agonized moan as more sand rubbed and filled the cuts. Panting, he managed to get over to his side.

“You’re feverish. You need to get inside, Luke, before there’s any permanent damage. You need to break that datapad now,” Owen said, not moving from the boy’s side, but not trying to help him either.

“No.”

Owen’s head tilted from one side to the other as he stared down at his prone nephew. “You’re so beautiful in your suffering, Luke. So … beautiful. But it will not save you.”

Luke’s fevered mind could think of no reply to that. Vader lunged at Owen, but he passed through the man as if one of them were a ghost. The Dark Lord shrieked at Owen, ‘He’s an innocent child! A child! How can you do this?’ But Vader knew being a child was no safeguard against cruelty. He had slaughtered hundreds of younglings at the Temple, even as they ran to him at first, thinking him their savior when he was their reaper. He had done it to achieve power, power to save Padme and Luke, power for himself. Owen did this because he believed it was the only way to save Luke and because it gave the farmer pleasure that he could not yet admit to himself. Vader thought wretchedly, ‘What separates him and I? We are both monsters.’ But there was one difference: where Owen would allow Luke to die, Vader would protect him with his own life. ‘I am a monster, but I will be my son’s protector. Use what I am to keep him safe.’

Luke curled into a ball on the cold sand, with the datapad securely placed against his chest, hoping he could avoid his uncle’s eyes in sleep. Vader lay down beside him, whispering that he loved Luke over and over again. He knew his words could not reach the young man lying in the sand, but he hoped they reached the one that he knew was in his arms in the Executor.

The suns were up high in the sky when Luke awoke again. The sunlight helped chase the chill from his body, but his joints ached from the fever. He opened his mouth to give out a low moan, but his throat was so constricted from lack of water and inhaling sand particles all night long that he couldn’t even make the small sound. His bleary eyes sought out Owen in the lean-to. The man was there, still staring at Luke with an unreadable expression, his laser rifle across his knees. Luke’s eyes slipped closed again. Suddenly there was the pressure of a cool plastiglas container against his lips. A drip of water lay on his tongue. Luke’s eyes flew open. He tried to move his still bound wrists for the container of water, but suddenly it was out of reach.

Owen sat crouched a foot away, cradling the water container in his large hands. “Break the datapad, Luke, and I’ll give you all the water and food you want. Abandon that bastard, Anakin Skywalker!”

Luke’s eyes prickled with tears he did not have the moisture to shed. He shook his head and slumped back down against the sand. He could feel that his exposed skin was badly sunburned all ready. He wondered when the blistering would start. Once when he was very young he had gotten lost in the desert and had been burned horribly. He’d had weeping, open sores all over his body for a week. He sensed that this burn was going to be worse.

Time started to pass very strangely in the memory world as Luke’s mind broke down under the weight and fire of the fever and the suns. Vader paced in front of the boy’s prone body, talking to the child until he was hoarse. Owen was a dark presence in the lean-to, but if he tried to speak to Luke, offer the choice of breaking the datapad, during those long red-hazed days where the suns torched Luke’s body, Luke did not hear it so neither did Vader. Throughout it all, Luke clutched the datapad to his chest, protecting it as best he could.

The next coherent moment came when a new brighter presence joined the darkness that was Owen. There were raised voices, shouting that Luke’s fever, sun-baked mind couldn’t understand. Then there were cool hands on him and a cold container of water was pressed to his lips. It was Beru. Vader wanted to bless the woman.

“It’s going to be okay, Luke. You’re going inside. Water. Food. And we’ll treat your wounds. Get you well,” she promised, her voice stained with tears and strain. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I should have stopped him … stopped this.”

Luke could not even raise his head by himself to drink from the container. Beru had to hold it up for him. Vader urged him to drink deep. Luke’s body felt tight and seared. He could feel cracks in his tender skin, weeping blisters all over his exposed back, the burn of infection in his wounds and circulating in his blood. But even through the pain and madness, Luke realized that the datapad was missing. With an inarticulate cry, Luke used wild strength to get to his feet. He saw where the pad was … in Owen’s hands. Owen stared at Luke as he snapped the pad in half. Luke screamed and fell to his knees.

That’s when the vision began.

Luke saw his father from the dream again. Vader saw the vision as well. His dream self stood, half-unclothed, before a raging ocean just as Vader recalled from Luke’s dream. But it did not stay as the dream had. The ocean was the first thing to change. It went from brilliant blue to dark red. It became a sea of lava. The sand became black slabs of hardened, heated rock. Vader recognized this place. It was Mustafar. The boy’s mind pushed so far by physical limits somehow had a vision of what occurred to him on that blasted planet.

The Dark Lord wanted to block Luke’s sight. But he could not. The dream version of him was still standing, smiling at Luke, when the honey-colored hair caught fire. Luke shrieked. Vader watched as the flesh melted and blackened on Luke’s dream of him, watched as the young man he’d been was destroyed by fire. He could almost smell the sweet charred scent of his long ago cooked flesh.

“No! Father! No! Oh, no no no no no! Forgive me! Forgive me for failing you! No!” Luke was crying, his voice a hoarse wrecked wretched thing. Luke began to crawl towards the burning figure in the sand, dragging himself forward, but he didn’t have the strength to get far.

The Dark Lord was on his knees in front of the memory of Luke. He reached to embrace the boy and this time he could.

The cool darkness of the interior of his quarters on the Executor was suddenly around Vader and the softness of the couch was under him instead of sand. Luke was in his arms, pressed tight against his chest. Tears were running down the Dark Lord’s face. He rocked the pale, trembling boy in his arms.

“Luke, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there. Should have saved you. Should have … please … forgive me …”

--------------------------------------------------

Luke was so grateful when the memory was over. He had not allowed himself to experience the full horror of it since it happened. But it had not been as terrible as it could have been. Vader’s presence, his love, had been a buffer from utter despair. The things that his father had tried to do to protect Luke had amazed the boy. ‘He would have put himself in my place. He tried to take the blows so they would not hurt me. And when that didn’t work, he attempted to comfort me as everything fell apart.’ But his father’s courage made him feel his own failure all the more keenly.

Vader’s voice was softer, almost broken, “Luke, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there. Should have saved you. Should have … please … forgive me …”

Vader buried his face in Luke’s hair.

“Forgive … you?” It was Luke that needed forgiveness. He had lost the datapad … allowed his father to be burned.

Vader drew back so Luke had to remove his head from where it was securely burrowed against his chest. “You should never have been with those people. Never! If I had not … not …” His father shook his head violently. “No, I cannot speak of this. Not now! Not when you’ve gone through so much … Luke,” Vader cupped the boy’s face in his hands, “Did Owen hurt you again? After this. Did he … did he touch you?”

Luke grimaced and thought, ‘So it was true that Uncle Owen had … enjoyed what he did to me. I wasn’t sure.’

“Luke!” Vader shook him gently, his amber eyes searching Luke’s face, when Luke didn’t answer him right away.

“No, Father. He never did. The droids arrived a few months later and Owen and Beru were … killed soon after. And before that … things just went on … as they had … as if it hadn’t happened.”

“So there are some miracles in this nightmare.”

Luke hung his head. “If I had not written down that dream … had those thoughts then Uncle Owen would never have acted as he did.”

Vader let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Oh, sweet child, he would have found an excuse to take his pleasure from you. Believe me, he would have found a way.”

Luke’s hands tightened on his father’s chest. Vader looked down at him. One of the honey blonde locks dropped across his father’s forehead. Luke reached up and brushed it back. Vader’s eyes flickered closed for a moment when Luke touched him. ‘His hair was the first to go.’ Luke felt tears well.

“Father, you are not the one that needs to be forgiven. I … I … you saw how I failed you,” Luke said softly, nearly choking on the words.

Vader’s eyes narrowed. “Luke, what do you mean?”

Luke’s breaths came in harsher gasps and the pain in his back flared. “Burned … burned … couldn’t save you! Lost the datapad … caused it … hurt you … oh, Force, hurt you because of my … my wrongness!”

Vader seemed to understand his incoherent statements. A loud exhale of breath from the Dark Lord’s mouth. “Child, you think you are to blame for me being burned?”

Luke couldn’t speak so he just nodded. Vader tilted his chin up so that they were eye to eye.

“You had absolutely nothing to do with how I got injured.”

“But … I saw … saw … after he took the pad … after I failed to save it … would never have happened if I hadn’t wanted wrong things from you!”

“Luke, think logically. You saw me wearing the mask and respirator on the holovid before your uncle found the datapad. And remember that I told you that Palpatine placed the mask on me the day you were born? I’ve been injured for twenty years, Luke, not five.”

Realization dawned on Luke. “Twenty … yes, you said that … I …”

“You were intent on blaming yourself, so you did not let logic stand in your way. The physical punishment you had undergone, allowed you to have a vision … a vision of something past. Long past.”

“How could I not see …”

“The connection made sense … makes terrible sense. It was just not the right one. Your guilt and pain were so great … But, Luke, nothing you did hurt me. Believe in that. Trust in that.”

Luke slumped against his father’s powerful chest. The smell of warm leather and underneath that his father’s spicy scent seemed to reach out and enfold him. Vader carded through his hair with his newly healed hand. Luke felt the velvety brush of his father’s fingers against his temple. He sighed softly.

“I know now how ridiculous my belief was that I somehow could have such an effect on you, but after I found out you were alive … not killed by … well, by yourself … and that you were burned … it just connected for me.””

“It’s a terrible burden you carried. No wonder you feared desiring me after what you thought it had brought before. How is your back?” Vader’s hand tentatively touched the scars.

“Okay. There’s no pain.”

“Luke, I want you to know how much I admired your strength and the courage you showed in the face of Owen’s cruelty.”

Luke blushed and snuggled tighter. “Thank you, but … I did not really do anything. I just … endured it.”

His father’s lips ghosted across Luke’s forehead. “You did far more than that. Even as he harmed you, you never reached for … anger or … hate. I could never do as you did, never be as you are. But I admire it greatly.”

Luke’s blush felt radioactive and there was a lump in his throat. “You are so much more than I am, Father.”

“No, child of my heart, not so. I just … I just hope I can use what I am to protect you from now on.”

Luke wrapped his arms around his father’s chest and held on tightly. The easy rise and fall of Vader’s breathing lulled him into a sleepy state. ‘His lungs are healed, his hair back, his skin repaired and I can regrow his limbs! I can undo what was done to him. Turn back the clock.’ Suddenly his father was lifting him up and carrying him to their bedroom. ‘Force, I thought of it as our bedroom!’

“What are we doing, Father?” Luke felt a rush of warmth pool in his groin when Vader looked down at him with what could only be called a mischievous smile.

“Getting cleaned up, Luke. We cannot go around with our clothes and bodies in this state.”

Luke felt the dried cum in his pants begin to itch and grimaced. His father was quite right. Vader set Luke gently on the bed and walked over to the bathroom. There was the sound of the faucet running. Luke had been shocked to find that his bathroom had actual running water as well as a sonic cleansing system. Other than on Dagobah, which really didn’t count because using swamp water to bathe was just icky, he had never had a bath or shower with water. Vader returned with two moist, warm towels that he set on the nightstand. Vader’s hands then went to Luke’s boots, unzipped them and began tugging them and his socks off.

“You do not need to do that, Father. I can undress myself … really!”

A slow smile pulled at Vader’s lips. “I’m well aware of that, Luke. I recall you said you hadn’t been undressed by someone else since you were two.”

“Exactly!” Luke said as he reached and grasped his father’s hands, stilling their roving.

“The thing is, child, I would like to undress you.” Vader’s amber gaze lowered. “But I will not push you on this anymore. If you do not want—”

“No!” Luke was as surprised as Vader at his vehemence. Amber eyes flickered up to meet Luke’s. Luke swallowed hard then forced himself to be brave. “I want … I want you. So much.”

Vader’s face seemed to light up from within. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, more than sure. Now that I know that I didn’t … that you don’t … now that I understand what I saw … Sith!”

“Luke,” Vader chastised mildly, the quirked grin making it hardly a reproof at all.

“Sorry, right, shouldn’t use that as a swear word.” Luke stared down at their clasped hands, one pale flesh, one still gloved in leather. “I want you. I’m just so new at this. Never thought I could have this. So … please, can we go slow?”

Vader leaned in, his lips a hairs breadth away from Luke’s right ear. “I would have it no other way.”

Luke felt a shiver pass through his body. “Your voice … even without the vocorder enhancement … so beautiful. I can get lost just listening to you.”

Luke let his lips press against his father’s smooth cheek. Half-parted, he let them slide along Vader’s jaw line. The Dark Lord trembled at Luke’s touch.

“We haven’t had our first proper kiss, you realize, Luke.”

“No, no we haven’t,” Luke said, his lips still whispering across his father’s skin, now lower against his neck. He could feel Vader’s pulse against his mouth. With a boldness he wasn’t sure he possessed, he licked the pulse point and was rewarded by a harsh intake of breath from his father. “I’d like to … to kiss … be kissed by you.”

Vader sat back on the bed and drew Luke onto his lap. The boy felt chills run up and down his body. He was hot and cold all at the same time. He wanted this so much. He put his arms around his father’s neck. Vader cupped one cheek with his healed hand, fingers fanning out to touch as much of Luke’s skin as he could. His eyes studied Luke’s face for long moments.

“I thought I could not feel any more for you than I already did, but I was wrong,” Vader said softly.

“Feel what?”

Vader didn’t say, he showed. Luke felt his father’s love for him rush through their bond. His father had sent love to him before, but this was different. More layered, more complex. Deeper. ‘I thought he would be repulsed by me after seeing what happened on Tatooine, but he … he loves me even more.’ Luke then realized two other things: he was achingly hard and he was crying tears of delight and shock.

Quickly, wiping the tears away, he tilted his head to the side and breached the distance between their lips. The first touch was soft, hesitant almost. His father letting him direct how full the kiss was. Luke increased the pressure and slipped his tongue out to trace his father’s lips. Vader’s mouth opened and Luke’s tongue was eagerly pulled inside. Luke moaned as his father rasped his tongue with a light touch of teeth then sucked on it. Vader’s hand curled around the back of Luke’s head, cradling him as the kiss went on and on. Their tongues tangled. His father’s taste of citrus from the blood fruit and cinnamon flooded Luke’s mouth as Vader traced the interior with his tongue. Finally, the kiss ended as Luke was gasping for breath.

“I will have to teach you to breathe through your nose when we kiss. Otherwise I will have a passed out son in my arms,” Vader teased, his eyes and smile bright.

“So … that,” Luke gasped a little, “that was a real kiss.”

“Did you like it?”

Luke gave him a blinding smile. “I’m just wondering how I’m not going to want to do that with you every single second of every single day.”

Vader’s laugh was delighted. “I fear I have the same concern.”

Struggling to sit more upright, Luke asked, “And there’s more than just that and … rubbing up against each other, right?”

His father grinned and placed tiny kisses over Luke’s face, “Yes, much, much more.”

“Oh … excellent,” Luke answered breathlessly. “And you’ll teach me, show me … we’ll do all of it together?”

Vader’s strong hands rubbed Luke’s stomach and sides. “Oh, yes, Luke, I promise to do all of it with you … and only you. I expect … monogamy from you as well, my child.”

Luke caught the possessive note in his father’s voice and was surprised that it pleased him. He certainly didn’t want to share his father with anyone and he had no desire whatsoever to have another touch him. He nodded his agreement and the slight tension in his father’s body seemed to drain away. Vader shifted Luke back on the bed, resting Luke’s head against the pillows. His hands trailed down Luke’s chest, brushing over his nipples, which Luke did not realize were so sensitive until that moment. Vader’s hands came to a rest just above the button of Luke’s pants. Luke found himself sucking in his stomach, hoping that fingers would creep beneath the waistband. He fought down a flush when he realized what he was doing. His father’s knowing smile told him that Vader realized it, too.

“May I undress you, Luke?”

“Yes, oh, please, yes.”

Luke’s hands fluttered helplessly at his sides, until he finally let them drop down to the bed. Vader slowly pulled the button through the buttonhole. The sound of the zipper being drawn down was so loud, it even seemed to block out the rapid beating of Luke’s heart. Luke’s cock felt like an iron bar in his pants.

“Life your hips, my beautiful son.”

Vader’s hands framed Luke’s slim waist, then as Luke lifted up, he slide them downwards, pushing the pants and briefs off Luke’s hips, thighs, calves then finally disentangling them from his feet. Luke was bare from the bottom down for his father to see. He couldn’t help the blush. He fought the urge to cover himself with his hands or pull his shirt down. He turned his head away, suddenly unable to look at Vader anymore as he felt his father just drink in the sight of his naked, erect cock.

“Look at me, Luke.”

“I … I can’t. I’m—”

“You have no need to be embarrassed. You are so desirable and like this … open for me like this … irresistible.”

Luke gasped and arched as he felt his father’s flesh and blood hand grasp his sex lightly. Vader leaned over and grabbed one of the warm moist towels from the nightstand and began to rub Luke’s sex clean from his earlier spilled release. The friction of the soft towel and the even softer slide of his father’s palm against his engorged cock had Luke moaning and writhing.

“Oh, Father! If you … if you keep doing that I will … will release again!”

“And get yourself all dirty after I have just cleaned you? I think not.”

“Then you must … must stop touching me!”

“You mean I must stop touching you this way.”

Suddenly the towel was gone and there was no blessed friction against Luke’s sex. With a needy moan, Luke thrust his hips up into the air as if he could recapture the feeling of his father’s hand and towel. Luke’s blue eyes fluttered open and he looked down to see what his father was doing. Vader’s lush, expressive mouth was poised a few inches over Luke’s sex. His breath passed over the sensitive tip and Luke nearly cried with need.

“Please, Father!”

“Please what, young one?” Vader’s smile was wide and knowing.

“Let me … make me … cum!”

“You wish release?” Vader trailed his fingers over Luke’s bare stomach that was revealed as the t-shirt and jacket hiked up with Luke’s earlier frantic movements.

“Force, yes! Please!”

“All right then,” Vader said softly and Luke shrieked as his father’s mouth engulfed his sex.

Hot. Wet. Suction. Tongue tracing the vein that ran up Luke’s sex’s length. His father stopped Luke’s hips from rocketing off the bed by holding them down with his strong hands. Vader had swallowed him to the root. He felt his father’s throat muscles work around his shaft. He mewled helplessly, knowing it was mere moments before he would cum. His father’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked powerfully on Luke’s cock.

“Father! I’m going to cum now! Can’t stop! Can’t!”

Luke wanted to give his father warning to pull off, but though Vader appeared to hear him, his only response was to work Luke’s sex more diligently until Luke’s release was streaming down his throat in gushes. Finally, when Luke was spent and shaking, his sex almost aching when touched by his father’s tongue, Vader pulled off. He gently wiped Luke’s cock clean again with the still damp towel.

“There … no mess.” Vader was grinning.

Luke was boneless on the bed. His eyes half-shut, unable to speak and barely able to move. Vader crawled up his son’s body, careful to keep his weight off the smaller form beneath him until his lips were level with Luke’s. The boy did have the strength to reach up and kiss his father softly. Vader’s tongue invaded Luke’s mouth bringing with it a new taste: sort of sweet yet with a bitter, almondy bite.

“That’s your taste, my beloved,” Vader whispered after the kiss ended.

Luke snuffled against his father’s neck contentedly. He tried to pull the older man down on top of him to cuddle, but Vader resisted.

“I would crush you, Luke.”

“Then lie beside me.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve lain down; I wonder if I remember how.”

Vader shifted his body so that he could lie down beside his son. Luke turned to face him and Vader tucked Luke securely against his chest, his arms wrapped around the smaller form. Luke looked at his father’s face across from his own on the pillow. Vader’s eyes seemed to glow in the low light. Luke reached up and placed a feather-light caress against his father’s cheek. Vader turned his head and nuzzled his son’s hand.

“This is really … nice,” Luke said quietly.

“Only nice, young one?”

“There really aren’t words for how good this feels,” Luke admitted.

“I tend to agree.”

Luke shifted his lower body against his father’s and felt Vader’s unabated arousal. “Oh, you haven’t … I could … would you let me …touch you, too?”

His father smiling at him was something Luke couldn’t get enough of and the smile he was giving his son right at that moment was one that Luke would hold in his heart and savor forever.

“I would greatly enjoy that, son, but you do not have to. What I did earlier was for you. I expect no recompense.”

“But I want to!”

Vader spread his arms wide. “Then feel free to touch me however you like.”

Luke shifted up so he was kneeling on the bed beside his father. He undid the clasp to Vader’s cloak. It fluttered off his father’s shoulders and drifted down to the floor. “Lay on your back.”

Vader complied and Luke straddled his father’s thighs. Luke felt his father’s eyes track his every movement as if the Dark Lord couldn’t get enough of the sight of his son. Making a bold decision, Luke removed his jacket and t-shirt so that he was completely naked. His father’s breathing hitched. Luke fought down a blush. Vader’s hands reached up and stroked Luke’s bare sides and trailed over to his nipples, plucking at them. Luke gasped. He swatted those teasing hands away after a moment.

“No, Father, I want to pleasure you.”

“Touching you like that … seeing your reaction does pleasure me, Luke.”

“Well, it seems to shut down all my brain functions when you do it and I want to concentrate here.”

Vader laughed. “Then I will attempt to be good and keep my hands to myself … for now.”

Luke reached up to the fastenings of the leather armor that covered Vader’s torso. As he undid the almost invisible clasps, he said, “We haven’t checked out the rest of my handiwork, you know. Your chest and stomach, hips and thighs …”

“No, we haven’t. I should warn you though that there is no synthe-flesh on my prosthetics. I will be able to feel your touch through the sensors, but … I kept them plain metal.”

“Why?”

Vader shrugged against the comforter. “Easier maintenance and I never intended to be with anyone naked again so …”

Luke nodded, though he felt a wave of pain at what his father had been denied so long. ‘Touch … never to touch or be touched. In pain constantly and having to struggle for every breath for twenty years. How did he survive it?’ Luke unfastened the last clasp and pulled open the armor that covered Vader’s torso. The Dark Lord looked down at his chest just as Luke did to see what was revealed.

“Beautiful,” Luke exhaled. His father was something to see. Sculpted muscles, sleek and powerful, all covered in pale as alabaster skin, with dark nipples that just begged for Luke’s mouth. The slim waist that was just below his father’s muscled, lean stomach.

“You did a remarkable job in healing me, Luke,” Vader’s voice was soft, a touch of awe in it.

“This is you … what you should have always been.”

Luke leaned down and mouthed one of his father’s petal-soft nipples. Vader arched off the bed, an inarticulate cry burst from his lips. The nipple pebbled against his tongue and Luke suckled on it happily. He didn’t really know what to do; he was just going by instinct, when he grazed his teeth over the hardened flesh. His father’s moan told him he was doing it right.

“Child, if you do not undo my pants, I will cum in them again and I do not want that!”

“How do you want it then, Father?” Luke asked as he detached his mouth slowly from the tasty nub.

Vader’s amber eyes darkened to copper. “I want to cum all over you, Luke. I want your golden skin covered in my seed. I want to thrust against your body when I release.”

“Even though it will make me dirty again?”

“You could never be dirty, child of my heart.” Vader’s hands gripped Luke’s hips.

“I want that, too. I want your essence all over me.”

Luke was shaking. Waves of heat and desire coursed through him. He was hard again. He felt the brush of his erect sex against his stomach, leaving a small trail of precum behind. He reached for the belt at his father’s waist. His hands fumbled with the clasp, but finally he pulled it free. The fastenings to his father’s pants went next. He was about to ask his father to lift his hips so he could pull them down, but suddenly Luke was on his back, his father above him, sitting between his legs. Vader’s heavy genitals, erect and proudly jutting from dark curls were being observed by them both.

“You truly have remade me, Luke.” Vader clasped his engorged sex in his healed hand. His whole body quivered for a moment. “My cock before you healed me was functional, but as ugly as everything else about me. And now … you have changed everything.”

“I just gave back what you lost,” Luke said softly as he looked at his father’s beautiful organ. He trembled at the thought of it brushing against his skin and then a deeper, hotter desire flushed him: ‘What would it feel like filling me, stretching me, making me cry out?’

Vader stripped off the leather armor that covered his torso. Luke traced the dividing line on his right arm where flesh became steel.

“When do you wish me to fully heal you, Father?”

“After we go down to Black Heart. I may need to retrain my body to fight optimally with flesh appendages and I want to be nothing less than optimal on the surface. The Viateen scent weakness like the Hutts do a scam. Plus …” Vader gave an amused chuckle, “none of my clothes are going to fit me any longer and I will have to have my droid requisition some that will.”

“What?”

“I’m not really this tall, Luke. I’m only six foot, two inches really.” With a twist of his lips, Vader added, “Palpatine thought it amusing to make me more golem-esque by giving me prosthetic legs that made me near seven feet in height.”

“So I’m not such a shrimp compare to you after all!” Not that Luke minded being smaller than his father. In fact, it made him feel … safe and … aroused all at the same time.

“You are the perfect size … so beautifully proportioned.” Vader stroked Luke’s chest until the younger man was breathing hard.

“It is you who are beautiful, Father,” Luke gasped.

“I am glad my form pleases you, young one. It seems we please each other.”

Vader slid down his pants until his hips and thigh were free. Luke could just glimpse the change from flesh to metal. He covered Luke’s body with his own. Both men groaned at the feeling of flesh against flesh.

“Oh, so long … so long since I’ve had this! And it’s perfect … so perfect with you, child of my heart!”

The heat and heft of his father’s body over his made Luke’s cock jump. Vader was not putting his full weight on Luke’s smaller form, just gliding his body across his son’s prone body. The Dark Lord nibbled on Luke’s lower lip and Luke let out a surprised gasp of air at how good that felt. Luke went to reach up to encircle his father’s neck with his arms, but Vader caught his wrists and held them down above Luke’s head.

“Don’t you want me to touch you?” Luke asked as a strange thrill went through him at being at Vader’s mercy completely like this. He knew his father would not hurt him, but the feeling of being controlled was causing him to experience spikes of pleasure. He wondered if what he was feeling was wrong. Vader seemed to be watching him even more intently than before.

“Yes, I want you to touch me … but I also like this, when you’re helpless beneath me. Do you like this, young one?”

Vader ground his hips against Luke while still gently holding Luke’s wrists above his head. The boy moaned. Their dicks had released enough liquid that they could slide over each other with greater ease. His father’s genitals were so big and he loved the weight of them against his own cock and stomach. He wished his father’s cock would go lower. He wrapped his legs around Vader’s waist. His father thrust more powerfully against him. Vader’s cock glided over Luke’s perineum and balls. Luke felt a wave of heat fill him. ‘So close … he’s so close that if he just tilted and thrust he’d be inside me.’

“Do you like being held down, my son? Do you enjoy being under my control?”

“I … I … yes.” Luke suddenly blushed and felt a little sick. He turned his head to the side so he wasn’t looking at his father and his legs unwound and dropped back down to the bed.

Suddenly, Vader released Luke’s wrists and he was gently forcing Luke to look at him. “What is it? What are you thinking that you suddenly pulled away from me?”

“I shouldn’t want you to … ” Luke stopped in frustration. He didn’t know the words for what he felt.

“To dominate you?” Vader’s voice was so low and Luke felt that inexplicable heat again. “Young one … there is nothing wrong with liking that. Considering my personality … it is perfect that you should enjoy it.”

Luke pulled his now freed hands down and held them across his chest, his erection flagging slightly. “But Jedi should not … be submissive like that! Weak like that!”

“It doesn’t mean you’re weak, Luke. Force, child, you are stronger than most anyone I’ve met and more defiant with me than anyone has dared to be in over 20 years. Enjoying being dominated in the bedroom doesn’t change that. It doesn’t make you less of a Jedi. Indeed, considering the power you have over me …” Vader stopped and bit his lower lip.

Luke repeated with a small smile, “I have power over you?”

His father’s eyes shifted from his and a slight frown appeared on his face, “You have so much power over me, Luke, that it’s a bit frightening. And that power grows the more we’re together.”

Luke reached up and touched his father’s cheek. “I would never abuse it with you. Father, I swear I wouldn’t.”

“Please believe the same is true of me. At least know that in the bedroom, you can trust me, that you are safe.” Vader leaned down and kissed Luke softly on the forehead. “Safe to be whoever you truly are.”

Luke reached for his father’s neck and pulled Vader easily down against him so he could snuggle against his father’s shoulder. “I don’t know who I am … in this way. In love making.”

“Finding out is the fun part.”

Luke suddenly gave a horrified laugh, “Force, what you must have thought when I brought you the blindfold earlier! That’s what you meant when you said I was so open to you.”

“Hmmm, it did give me ideas, child. Plus your enjoyment of being caressed and restrained by Force tendrils.”

Vader nuzzled Luke’s neck, placing light kisses that left blooms of heat on Luke’s skin.

Softly, Luke said, “I don’t know what I feel about wanting you to … dominate me. I’m …”

“Not ready to deal with that yet. I shouldn’t have pursued it. We’re just getting started together. I’m sorry I’ve gone too fast,” Vader answered and kissed his son’s cheeks in such a paternal, non-sexual way that Luke laughed genuinely this time.

“Don’t go all platonic on me, Father! I may not be sure of some things we do together, but I do know I want many, many things.” Luke wound his legs back up around Vader’s waist. “Please … please rub against me more. The feel of you … touching me, caressing me … I want you to cum all over me. Please, Father?”

“How can I resist you when you ask so prettily?”

Vader reached down and grasped his son’s slim hips and began to thrust their bodies together. Luke groaned at each hot swipe of flesh against flesh. He felt his balls tightening up against his body. The sounds his father was making, almost low growls and moans, as their bodies moved so warm and slick together tipped Luke over the edge and he was gushing over them both. Vader increased the pace of his thrusting and leaned down to suck on Luke’s neck. Luke arched into the suction, loving that his father was marking him and not giving a damn if that was submissive or not. He wanted it, wanted to have physical proof that he was his father’s and his father was his. Vader gave out a shout and his seed splashed hot and thick across Luke’s stomach and chest. The scent of his father’s release was ambrosia to Luke’s senses. He felt almost drunk off the smell. Vader slid to the side so he wouldn’t crush Luke beneath him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he came down from his orgasm. His father grasped Luke’s body and drew him close.

“Are you all right?” Vader asked as one hand gently carded through Luke’s sweaty hair.

“Better than that. So good. Never knew why people got all hot and bothered about sex. Now I understand.”

They gently dozed against one another. Luke’s head was pillowed against his father’s firm chest. The warmth of Vader’s body against his own relaxed him in a way that nothing else ever had. His father, of course, was the one to rouse them.

“Young one, we must get up … get cleaned so we can go down to Black Heart.”

Luke stifled the cold feeling in his stomach at the thought of going down to the planet’s surface again. “Can’t we stay here and … explore each other more?”

Vader’s laughter rumbled against Luke’s ear. “Trying to avoid going down to the planet, are we, Luke?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably. “Just … being together like this is so much more … pleasant.”

“Yes, but we have our duties. Besides, I promise there will be plenty of time to … explore each other later,” Vader said the last as a husky growl against the shell of Luke’s right ear. Luke shivered at the dark, hot promise in that tone.

-----------------------------------------------------

Vader watched his son’s reaction to being cleaned in the bathroom. The Dark Lord used a warm moist towel to clean his son’s groin, stomach and thighs before doing the same to his own body. The boy sought out his touch now, almost curling into his side as they stood together. He was so glad that his testing of Luke’s submissive tendencies had not chased the boy away altogether. He cursed himself for being thrice a fool. The child had no experience with sex at all and here he was pushing him to explore an aspect of his personality that clearly made the boy uncomfortable. ‘Incest and his virginity are enough obstacles to be faced in our first real encounter.’

Vader stripped off his pants. Luke stared at the place where metal and flesh met. With a tentative look at his father’s face for permission, which Vader gave with a nod, Luke leant down and touched the boundary line. His warm fingers lingered on the metal. Luke glanced up at Vader.

“You can feel this?”

“Yes, the sensors run through the metal’s surface.”

“Do you feel … pain?”

The worried look in those expressive blue eyes made Vader want to grab the boy and soothe him with kisses, but kisses would lead to caresses, which would lead to more sex and they would never get out of their chambers before the sun set on the portion of Black Heart they needed to go to. Even Vader had no desire to go to the blood temple in the dark.

“I know when the leg is injured, but I have it programmed so that I do not experience pain per se. That is something I will have to get used to again with flesh and blood limbs. But I am looking forward to it.”

Luke gave him one of those blinding smiles that Vader was fast becoming aware he was addicted to. Seeing the boy happy was a goal now. He knew that taking him down to Black Heart would distress his child, but it had to be done. Happiness would have to be set aside for their greater advancement in understanding their new and greater Force powers.

Luke began to tug on another pair of black trousers and Vader did the same. The Com chimed and Vader answered.

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Oh, Lord Vader … you are not in the stasis chamber?”

The bizarreness of the question at first lead Vader to just stand there silently. Then he realized that besides Luke and his personal droid no one knew of his changed health. He was not going to explain it now to Admiral Piett over the Com so he answered simply, “No, what is it Admiral?”

“A group of ships has just materialized out of hyperspace on the far side of Black Heart, sir. We believe they are … slavers.”

“They are not aware of our presence.” Vader’s comment was not a question; it was a certainty, as the Force told him so.

“Not so it would seem.”

Luke gripped his father’s forearms in concern. The boy obviously felt the anger that seethed through Vader’s veins like ice. He hated slavers more than any other kind of villainous scum. His mother had been captured while she was pregnant with him and taken from her home world as a slave. He had been lucky that their master Watto had wanted Vader only to work in the shop fixing droids and not as a sex slave, but then again the Dark Lord had only been six at the time he was removed from Watto’s ownership so perhaps the blasted alien had merely been waiting until he was older to earn money off him that way.

“Admiral, take us around to attack formation.”

“Will you be joining the hunt, sir?”

Vader would have like nothing better than to get in his ship and destroy the slavers’ vessels personally, but he realized with a start he could not do that. His ship did not have a separate life support system due to his use of the respirator. He had designed the ship to be faster and more powerful with its absence. “No, Admiral. I will join you on the Bridge.”

“Yes, Lord Vader.”

The Dark Lord heard the surprise at his refusal in his second’s voice, but the man knew better than to voice it. Vader looked down at Luke. “I had hoped to prepare my crew for my new … appearance, but it will be a trial by fire instead.”

Luke nodded. “Can I come with you to the Bridge?”

“Yes.”

They finished dressing in a flurry. Vader stared at the mask and helmet sitting on the table. He would not put them on again. He knew there was still the matter of the spy somewhere on the ship. His only hope was that he would locate the man, and terminate him, before any report of his altered circumstances got back to Palpatine.

“Perhaps … you should carry the mask and helmet to the Bridge?” Luke suggested. “That might help them adjust.”

Vader nodded, but his hands didn’t seem to want to move. He loathed these articles now though he knew that was illogical. There was no time for him to be vacillating. He grabbed the hated items and tucked them under his arm.

The journey to the Bridge without his respirator, helmet and mask was strange. Luke’s gentle Force presence was suddenly wrapped around him like a second cloak. At first Vader resented that his unease was so apparent, but then he realized that denial of what he was feeling was just as foolish. He sent a warm thank you to his son through their bond and Luke smiled. The men they passed in the hallways clearly recognized him as Vader by his height and oddly … his eyes. Luke had been correct that his eyes seemed to confirm who he was even though these men had never seen his face let alone knew his eye color. The glowing amber color of his eyes had shocked the Dark Lord himself. The occasional night shine had occurred when he had turned to the Dark Side originally, but now the glow was permanent. It felt a part of him, a revelation to the universe of what he was: the Dark Lord, the Master of the Darkside.

As the elevator to the Bridge shut behind them, Vader turned to Luke with a crooked smile. “I believe my looks are going to shake the normally unshakeable Admiral Piett.”

Luke grinned. The doors to the elevator whooshed open and Vader, followed by Luke, stepped out onto the Bridge. Admiral Piett swung around to face him as always, but contrary to the norm the man’s mouth dropped open.

“Admiral, what is the status on the slavers?” Vader walked past his gob smacked second to stand by the plastiglas windows. With great care he placed the helmet and mask down on a nearby free console then stood with his hands behind his back as was his wont and waited for Admiral Piett to recover himself. Luke joined him, a small smile on his face, but exuding only Jedi calm instead of amusement.

“Lord … Lord … Vader … so it is true …”

Vader turned around to look at the Admiral. This was not what he was expecting the man to say. Admiral Piett’s eyes went from Vader to Luke.

“Admiral--”

“He can heal grievous wounds,” Admiral Piett exclaimed while looking intently at Luke, too shocked to realize he had cut off his superior. “He can raise--”

“ADMIRAL!”

Vader would not have the fact that Luke could raise the dead bandied about for just anyone to hear. The boy went slightly pale, but continued to carry his serene demeanor. Vader thought viciously, ‘I really will have to kill Dr. Nakima. She must have been--”

With that still shocked expression on his features, Piett said to Luke, “Trans … Damon Trans is my nephew … one of the troopers you … helped.”

Then Vader remembered. ‘Yes, Trans is related to Piett, but chose to become a common trooper instead of using his uncle’s connections to become an officer. Piett knew that the boy was injured and that he had died. But Trans would have contacted his uncle directly after he was released from Sickbay. What will he do with his knowledge of my son’s abilities? What will he force me to do to keep Luke safe?’ The other officers on the Bridge had their eyes fixed on their workstations, but were listening intently to every word. Vader was surprised to find no fear of Luke in their minds, but instead curiosity and … warmth. He realized it had something to do with Luke’s aura. The boy was unconsciously affecting all those around him, making them more at ease and calm.

“Admiral, this is not the time nor place for this discussion,” Vader commented softly, but his voice held a tone that brooked no argument and appeared to snap Piett out of his shock.

The Admiral passed a hand over his forehead, took a deep breath and said, “Yes, Lord Vader, forgive me. You asked about the status of the slavers. There are six large heavy class ships plus a dozen or more fighters. They will be within our sights in moments.”

“Excellent. Have our fighters standing by to engage.”

Vader turned back to the viewport. He felt Luke draw closer to him. Vader reached over and placed a comforting hand on Luke’s shoulder. The boy relaxed immediately. The Dark Lord watched as the slavers’ ships appeared as the Executor rounded the planet.

“Father …” Luke’s voice sounded small, hesitant, and almost ill.

“Child, what is it?”

“There’s …” Luke rubbed at his forehead as if it pained him, “there are people … people suffering on those ships. They are starving and … so frightened. Oh, Force, Father, it’s awful.”

“That is the fate of a slave, Luke. To be at the mercy of wretches.” Vader’s voice went icy.

“If we attack the ships … some of the slaves could be hurt or even killed.”

“Unfortunately, the slavers will either run or fight, Luke. They will not surrender. The penalty for slaving in the Empire is death. If we let them go then all of those slaves will suffer … if we fight them then some might be harmed, but others will be saved. We have no choice.”

Luke nodded, but the frown wouldn’t leave his face.

“Should the fighters be launched, Lord Vader?” Piett asked.

Just as Vader was about to answer him, the red flash of laser fire washed over the viewport. Another dozen fighters from the slaver ships that had been hidden from sight by Black Heart’s moon had rounded the moon, seen the Executor and fired.

“Admiral, should I be asking how you missed those fighters?”

“Our sensors have not worked properly, Lord Vader, since beginning our orbit of Black Heart.”

Vader knew the reason why. The planet gave off enough Force energy to disrupt many of the Executor’s systems. One of the slavers’ fighters swung around and was firing directly at the Bridge. The force field would keep the damage minimal, but the audacity of the slaver brought Vader’s rage to a head. With a flick of thought, he envisioned the fighter destroyed

The fighter exploded, disintegrating into millions of shiny shards.

“How did that happen?” Piett was growling at one of the laser technicians. “We didn’t hit it with any of our laser fire!”

Luke glanced up at his father’s face. “Father … you did that?”

“Yes … and I can do it again.”

Vader used the Force to locate every one of the slavers’ fighters and destroyed them with a single thought. There were gasps from those on the Bridge, as the fighters became blooms of fire in the darkness of space without a single shot being fired by the Executor. Then Vader envisioned the engines of the bigger ships that held the slaves and destroyed those, too, so that the six heavy class ships were sitting prone in space. He felt a wild joy at the destruction and he knew this was only child’s play. He could destroy so much more … so easily. If he wished it, he could have exploded the slavers’ hearts where they stood. But he refrained for Luke’s sake, dragging in his Force powers like fishing lines.

“Admiral, the six heavy cruisers are now disabled. Use the tractor beam to bring them into the hanger bay. Have a squadron of troopers ready to meet and board the ships.”

“Yes … yes, Lord Vader, just as you wish.” Admiral Piett’s voice shook only a little and Vader was proud that he had not killed the man prior to this. He was behaving well considering the circumstances.

“It appears that things have worked out better than expected. The slavers are captured without risk to the slaves. Does that please you, young one?” Vader asked.

Luke was staring up at him wide-eyed. “Father, you could not do that before, could you? Destroy ships like that?”

“No, otherwise dealing with the Rebellion would have been far easier.”

“And that’s not the extent of your new powers, is it?”

“No.”

“Could you … could you destroy bigger ships than the fighters?”

Vader pursed his lips. “Yes.”

“Ships the size of star destroyers?”

“Yes.”

“What about … what about something as large as the Deathstar, could you destroy something like that?” Luke’s hands went to his father’s forearms.

Vader quirked an eyebrow up at that. “That would not be difficult to do.”

“The Deathstar is the size of a moon … so you could destroy moons, too, then?”

“Yes, I could destroy moons.”

Luke’s grip on his forearms tightened as the boy searched his face for something. “What about planets … or even … suns? Could you destroy--”

Vader placed a finger against Luke’s lips. “I don’t know what the extent of my ability to destroy is. There may not be a … a limit.”

“You wouldn’t do that though … you wouldn’t destroy planets with … with people on them, would you?”

“Not unless there was no other choice, child of my heart.”

Luke’s moonstone colored eyes seemed to glow with a white light. The boy’s voice was small and low, “What has happened to us, Father? What are we?”