Luke Skywalker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coolhand) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-01-07 09:26 pm
coolhand) wrote in driftfleet2016-01-07 09:26 pm
Entry tags:
And you, you're just a substitute for the one that I hold dear
Who: Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo
Action: On the Red Fish, in Luke's room
When: 1/7
[It's a small room, which is the focus of Luke's anxiety right now. Perhaps all this would be easier if his room was larger, if everyone had their own space to pace and gesture. As it is, the bunks on the Red Fish weren't built for four people to a room, and Luke sits on the bed next to Leia, their knees bumping together. He feels stupidly like a child sitting on the bed like this, but there's nothing for it. He doesn't want to have this talk in public, where anyone can listen-- so his room it is.
Of course, he isn't actually anxious about that. That would be stupid. But it's far easier to fret about the room than--
He glances over at Han. He'd had a talk with him, voices low and urgent, please don't start a fight, that's all it boiled down to-- I know you hate him but please-- and Han had, eventually, agreed. He's a good man, under all that gruff; he won't spoil this for them. If he interrupts, it will be for a good reason.
Anakin isn't here yet, but he'll be over soon; he'd just sent a message saying as such. So now they wait, they three: Luke fiddling with a bit of machinery he'd picked up on the last planet; Leia next to him, body coiled tight, her own tenseness feeding into his anxiety; Han, standing guard, his face drawn and his body held tightly.]
Action: On the Red Fish, in Luke's room
When: 1/7
[It's a small room, which is the focus of Luke's anxiety right now. Perhaps all this would be easier if his room was larger, if everyone had their own space to pace and gesture. As it is, the bunks on the Red Fish weren't built for four people to a room, and Luke sits on the bed next to Leia, their knees bumping together. He feels stupidly like a child sitting on the bed like this, but there's nothing for it. He doesn't want to have this talk in public, where anyone can listen-- so his room it is.
Of course, he isn't actually anxious about that. That would be stupid. But it's far easier to fret about the room than--
He glances over at Han. He'd had a talk with him, voices low and urgent, please don't start a fight, that's all it boiled down to-- I know you hate him but please-- and Han had, eventually, agreed. He's a good man, under all that gruff; he won't spoil this for them. If he interrupts, it will be for a good reason.
Anakin isn't here yet, but he'll be over soon; he'd just sent a message saying as such. So now they wait, they three: Luke fiddling with a bit of machinery he'd picked up on the last planet; Leia next to him, body coiled tight, her own tenseness feeding into his anxiety; Han, standing guard, his face drawn and his body held tightly.]
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This-- It is attachment; a piece of him existing in another being and they will always be linked to him in this way. It is betrayal of everything he's been taught, everything the Order dictates, everything the Order has given him. He wants to reject it. Deny their existence because it just can't be. Not yet.
When he thinks of a family with Padme, he doesn't see Luke or Leia. Anakin sees Naboo; fields of flowers and water stretching out into the horizon, Padme in her evening gown, smiling radiantly at him, her hands reaching out for him. She is the family he sees in his future.
Stepping into the room - his son's room, he's looks at complete strangers. And--
Han Solo? ]
What is he doing here?
[ He cross his arms. All the worries and fears he feels about everything is being released as anger, it's almost a comfort. ]
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han stares at anakin for a moment before allowing his gaze to flicker to luke briefly -- accusingly, a silent we're going to talk later -- before he resettles himself against the back wall, his arms crossed. the very picture of calm, collected. a forced calm -- he feels anxious, cornered, and anakin is standing in the doorway.
this was a stupid idea. he had told luke and leia it was a stupid idea, and they had chosen not to listen. but han had chosen to tag along, for his own paranoid satisfaction, and he had promised luke not to lash out or be angry or threaten him.
so, instead, his tone is lilting and playful. (and, maybe, slightly smug.) ]
How's your face?
[ luke said nothing about making fun of him. ]
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In her memory, he does, anyway.
When the door opens, Leia draws herself up into ramrod-straight princess posture, willing herself to be all dignity, not fear. She lets her knee rest against his, a small, hopefully unnoticeable comfort.
Just as Han warned, the man--he is a man--looks like Luke. It's eerie, and Leia's breath seems to die in her lungs.
And then he speaks, and indignation brings her back to herself.]
He was invited.
[Her words overlap Han's, but they're ultimately of most value to her, not Anakin. They can do this. She can do this.
But she still doesn't relax an inch.]
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[He says that quietly-- not chiding, not showing up his friend, but simply warning him. Shut up, but politely, that's what this tone means. They don't need Han goading Anakin, not when everyone's already tense.
That being said, Luke nods towards Anakin.]
He was. Captain Solo has been with us since the beginnings of our adventures.
[We trust him, that's more or less the message he adds silently. Luke rises, though, and gestures into the room. Welcoming, even if the other two are all but glowering at him.]
There isn't much place to sit, but you're more than welcome.
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Why, is he a Skywalker too?
[ He's joking, but there's a sharpness in his tone that might as well said he shouldn't have been invited at all.
He looks pass Luke and on to Leia. She looks like her mother but there's none of the softness in her voice, no delicate tones or touch in her speech. More disconcerting, he can sense her in the Force, as well. Even seeing Padme's resemblance in her makes him feel a bit calmer, more like he could do this without tearing the fucking floor off. ]
I don't have time for this if you're not going to take any of it seriously.
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not worth the argument.
besides, he can speak up for himself. ]
I'm here because Leia asked me to be here.
[ which is... about 50% true. it had really been a forced invitation to luke, but leia had invited him. sort of. (besides, she had immediately said so, and therefore it was a lot more easy to swallow than the truth that han stoutly refused to allow luke and leia in a room alone with anakin.) ]
I'm not gonna tell anybody what's said here, and I already promised Luke I'd behave myself. Whatever they want to know is for them, not for me; I could care less about your personal life.
[ and so he steps aside, to move into a far corner, so anakin could have more room, giving luke a pointed see? expression as he settles himself up on top of the small table in the corner, resting his back against the wall. ]
Have at it.
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Her gaze snaps back to Anakin--unsettling as it is, he isn't Darth Vader, not exactly when so much of Darth Vader is the look and sound of him--and she gestures to the scant empty space. Have a seat.]
The fact of the matter is that we're here.
[Crammed into a tiny room, where the tension is palpable even without any meaningful training in the Force.]
If we didn't plan to take this seriously, we wouldn't have come.
[They're all making an effort, even if it might not be obvious to a stranger.]
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All we want is to know a little more about her.
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Anakin doesn't easily set his feelings aside, it boils inside him and lurks just beneath the surface. There will be repercussions from this. Some harmless equipment will be forced out of its shackles with its bolts and nuts scattering across the floor, or perhaps a pet droid will be made.
For now, he just wants to get this over with. ]
What do you want to know?
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Anything you can tell us.
[We didn't know our mother is on the tip of her tongue, but speaking of familial ties feels treacherous.]
General Kenobi says you know her better than anyone else. [Past tense, too, seems like a poor choice when Anakin already looks to be on the defensive.]
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[A beat. He glances up and deliberately meets Anakin's gaze. His stomach twists, but--]
You said I was like her. How?
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She's gentle. And caring. She can give you a look and you'll know. That everything will be alright. She'll make sure you know that, even if she can't fix it herself. She's confident, not just in herself but in me and in anyone and everyone who is trying to do the right thing.
[ His eyes turns on Leia for a moment. ]
But you don't want to be on her bad side. There's no point in arguing with her. She'll always win. And if she needs you, she'll drag you along with whatever plan she has in mind and there's very little you can do to say no. Because she's right, most of the time. Or I should say, she thinks she's right, based on the information she's been given.
[ He lifts his shoulders and shifts on his feet, heaving a heavy sigh. Because by gods, he misses her. He misses her every day he's in the Outer Rim and he misses her here and now more than ever. ]
Anything else?
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He probably doesn't like this setup any more than they do, she thinks. For a moment, she's beset by the utter strangeness of looking at Anakin Skywalker and imagining he feels something as banal as "stuck in a meeting he doesn't want to attend." It seems too mundane a situation, too human a problem, to fit Darth Vader.
But, of course, he isn't Vader--yet. That's starting to become clear, too, despite her stubborn desire to see him as such.]
If you have any stories you could tell, we'd like to hear those.
[It's easier to speak for a united front than for her own, personal desires.]
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Anakin bit down on his temper and jealousy, and replaced it with a cool Jedi mentality that he was finding himself grasping desperately for. They deserve to know, Padme would want them to know. However much he feels like this is an interrogation of sorts, the truth is all that mattered. He has nothing to hide anymore.
Softly, reaching for that calmness that Obi-Wan exudes - even a fraction of it would do - he begins ]
We met on Tatooine, a long time ago. I was-- [ A beat; something ugly gnaws at him. Tell them the truth, you were a slave. Helpless, small-. His voice returns with a sudden boom, all softness forgotten. ] She was daring, for a Queen. Most royalty and politicians would rather sit back and let other people do their dirty work. But she was never that type of person. The planet of Naboo was under a blockade at the time; the whole planet was under hostage by the Trade Federation. She and a group of her people escaped with the help of my old Masters, but their ship was damaged and had to land on Tatooine for repairs.
She went out herself, in disguise as one of the handmaidens, lying to the Masters about her identity, and sought help at the junk shop that I worked at. [ He smiles fondly at the memory. Those were somehow brighter days. ] I'd say she was as reckless as me, back then.
We got her ship repaired, and she went on to led the recapture of Naboo and formed an alliance with the Gungans. I didn't think of how important it was until I was older, but she knelt to gain favour to the Gungan Boss, so she could save her people. She had the strength of will to kneel when necessary. It was the single bravest, most selfless act I have ever seen. But that's who Padme was. She didn't think of herself or her own safety. She always acted with her people in mind.
I was nine years old then. I didn't see her again until years later.
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But that captures his attention for only a few moments. Then Anakin is talking about their mother-- about Padme, daring and reckless and sounding more like Leia than Luke. He glances over at her for a moment, mouth curved into half a smile.]
What happened to you? I know you joined the Order later than most. Did you meet with her again after you'd been Knighted?
[He says it out of curiosity-- he wants to know his father as well, after all-- but also in response to that slight ripple of jealousy he'd felt across the Force. Leia is all but brimming with hostility, and Anakin-- for all he will do-- doesn't deserve that now.]
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Her own are a melange of loneliness and satisfaction. Never knowing her mother, not beyond inexplicable impressions of her, is a deeper ache than ever before. But for the first time, she has something to hold onto beyond that sad beauty, a story she can picture in her mind. (Better still, a story she can find herself--and Luke--in.)
And if they could end things right here, she'd be happy.
She knows she ought to be agreeing with Luke, trying to do something to draw Anakin out--and with anyone else, she'd make the effort.
But with Anakin, she can't. Even with the half-hearted desire to make some show of interest beyond Padme, her throat remains stubbornly closed. She only stares up at him, mouth set, waiting for him to answer Luke's questions.]
requesting this log title/subject/whatever be changed to "how i met your mother"
But an intrusive though burrows in his mind: he would miss so much. Their whole lives. How many of those moments he missed in their childhood, how many conspiratorial looks could he have broken up with a firm but gentle voice; were they always like that, inseparable and knowing each other's thoughts. It made him ache something terrible. These were his children and they hardly even know him or their mother.
Guilt and worry festers, he struggles to stay focus when he tries to answer Luke's question. ]
I... I was trained as a Jedi. I met her again when I was still under my Master's tutelage, as a Padawan. She had a few assassination attempts on her life so I were assigned to be her bodyguard on Naboo.
[ Afraid they wouldn't know, he adds hesitantly: ] Her father was a university professor, he did a lot of work with the Refugee Relief Movement and got Padme involved when she was a child. Her parents basically founded their village in Theed. They were a loving family. The kind of family people would pray for. [ He knows he did. ] They didn't hesitate to welcome me.
We... [ He took a moment. The words he has in his mind doesn't feel like they were enough to justify the time they spent on Naboo. It was one of his best memories, the kind he would think of when he was stuck in the trenches. A long long way from home. And all he could do was stumble on the words? ] ...fell in love there.
[ Son of a sarlacc, that was awful. ]
Well. I dreamed of her for ten years. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her again. She didn't return my feelings until we were being tossed in an arena as food.
[ That didn't make it any better. He pinch his nose and rubs his jaw for a moment. He might not have a beard to stroke as he contemplated, but the gesture is vaguely calming. ]
As a Jedi, this is forbidden. The Jedi are forbidden to be married or have family. We were to be selfless beings, focused on serving others and being the light in the universe. To love is to have attachments and attachments is a focus on self that we do not allow. It leads to greed... [ With a heavy sigh: ] Jealousy.
She knew that and I knew that. I was willing to break any rules to be with her. But. She-- She. It took facing death for her to be selfish and take-- do something for herself. We didn't die, obviously. But it was the start of the Clone Wars. [ He lifts his durasteel arm up and flexing the digits that didn't look any different from his other hand. ] I lost my arm there, on Geonosis. But it didn't matter. She loves me.
So, we got married on Naboo, under the names Set and Veré. [ He looks distant for a moment. ] Naboo's Futhork. It was her idea.
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They can't change things. They can't. But right now, in this moment, Luke wants desperately to do so. To warn Anakin of the dark path he chooses, to make it so they become that happy family-- twins, born to a loving couple, to a mother who sounds fierce and kind and selfless, to a father who gave up everything for love.
And how-- how could this man in front of them, this man who so obviously loves their mother, become the monster they know in the future? How is it possible? Jealousy, Anakin says, and perhaps that's part of it-- but how can anything so pure as love be turned to the Dark Side?]
I didn't know.
[He says it softly.]
She sounds--
[A beat, and then he spares a quick glance at Leia.]
She sounds like you.
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There's a strange flutter of excitement inside her, an amorphous joy at the thought. She has room in her heart for Padme Amidala, somewhere nestled comfortably with Bail and Breha Organa.
But Anakin Skywalker is another story, even if it's him she owes for telling them anything of their past.
Leia's expression is tentative as her eyes flick towards Luke's again. The way he speaks, she wants to smile, but with Anakin watching... Her lips do curve a little after a breath, the smallest hint of pleasure.]
Maybe. [It's a compliment she's going to hold onto.] Like you, too--in some ways.
[There's a moment when it feels like it's just them, and then Han and Anakin's presences sneak into her thoughts once more. Looking up at Anakin, she speaks as though she's commenting on a dinner party he put together, or maybe a well-kept garden. Bland, neutral, dispassionate.] Is there anything else we should know?
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But it just made him miss her more.
Anakin caught a brief glimpse of Leia then regretted it. He knew the look on her. It was a Politician's face; Padme wore it on more than one occasion and he always hated it. Instead, he turned his attention to Luke.
Not that his was any better. Luke looks at him like someone died. ]
I was 19 and she was 24 when we got married. We spent one day together before our careers led us down different paths.
It's difficult. We don't have a normal marriage. [ His jaw sets and there's a grim and weary look on his face.
What else is there.
She makes me happy in a way nothing else in life can, but I never feel like I'm the husband she deserves. I should be there with her.
But those aren't the things Leia asked. He doubts it's anything they want to know, and it's definitely worries he doesn't want to share with them. ]
We both have our duties. The war took us farther and farther apart. The only thing that we had of each other during those days apart was our wedding presents; she gave me a R2 unit and I gave her a protocol droid I built as a child and my Padawan braid.