Chapter Text
It was a decision made in the moment. A moment of bitter nostalgia, a moment of vindictive mirth, a moment when he watched the youngling who would’ve been his Master in another life flare and vent irritation, hurt, and anger. So much anger into the Force. Seeing the young Jedi struggle in a way he never saw in his adult counterpart, but was used to seeing in the mirror soothed some of the bonds of brotherhood he still held. The Jedi had their chance, and they nearly ruined his former Master, forcing him to betray himself to the point where he was a puppet who would attack his brother. Vader came to his decision. Perhaps Obi-Wan had never truly been suited for the Jedi. Anger and passion was so clearly evident in every movement of the youngling before him, perhaps his calling would be the way of the Sith.
At times he found it concerning. How much alike he and his former Master were when they were younger. And yet all this devotion and affection the Jedi squandered, teaching non-attachment. The devotion of having his apprentice hanging onto his every word, his every teaching, listening in a way that he could never remember his Master doing for him. Affection to freely give a wry smile, a teasing quip, and even the snark that Vader could not find it in him to curb. And he knew, in turn the warmth and belonging he gave to his apprentice stoked a hearth fire into a loyalty that would outshine the stars. He knew with this life, his former Master, his current apprentice would never betray him.
The anger grew as his apprentice did. Bright flares echoing the heat seen in amber rimmed irises. Even so, the blue he was born with never truly vanished, but then again, blue could be seen in the heart of only the hottest flames. After their many years together, that was what his apprentice became, tempered fire, honed durasteel. Neither wanting to be banked by Jedi discipline, nor sheathed by the Jedi’s strict code. Only after this time does he realize that his apprentice is a bonfire in the Force, and that in a former life, the Jedi had managed to bring that conflagration to cool ash. Knowing a possible future as he did, he almost felt sorry for the Jedi Order, for in this life, they would never know just what they had lost.
It was with no small amount of exhilaration that he realized that again they were The Team. Not that it was their name this iteration. Their titles now were never so innocent. The Dragon and his Flame, was a favorite, and perhaps one of the more flattering. But then again, if one had no concern for the terror and destruction they wrought, all their titles were. His apprentice always by his side, together the two of them greater than the sum of their parts, fire and oxygen, lighting up the sky, the galaxy, with their raging inferno. Barely a thought was spared for what they had been in another life, just so much more ash blowing in the wind.
Not for the first time, Vader found himself wondering if the Dark Side was truly an apt title for the Force they delved in. Obi-Wan burned. Stars dimmed in comparison to his anger, his passion outshone nebulae. Perhaps in truth they were of the light, they were the blind spot seen when staring at suns. Perhaps that is all the Dark Side is, titled so because weaklings attempting to find their own power became blinded by it. Looking over at his now former apprentice he gets that same sense, for what else is there to see when such a sun is just rising.