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Embers sputtered and rose into the black behemoth of space, the intensity of the heat making Luke take several steps back. He stood, feet apart and fists clenched.
“I wish we had more time, father.” Luke murmured against the silence, save for the warbling of the jungle creatures beyond the grasses of the Endor clearing and the flames greedily surrounding Vader’s corpse.
“So do I.”
Luke jumped, taken aback by the sudden shift in lighting as he adjusted his eyes to take in a periwinkle glow from the corner of his right eye. He gasped at what he saw.
“Father?”
“Son.” Anakin’s grin became cocky at his stunned expression, and Luke saw a glimpse of the cunning warrior Obi-Wan had described.
“How-” Luke began, but Anakin elaborated;
“I suppose the Force felt that saving you was enough to wash away a life-time of sin. Even torturing my own daughter, it seems.” His smirk vanished, leaving the air between them awkward for a few moments.
“Leia.” Luke breathed, his own heart heavy at the memory of their earlier argument about this particular funeral. “She-she couldn’t come because-”
“She hates me. I know.” Anakin stated the fact clinically, causing Luke to startle and begin forming a counterargument. “I’ve made my peace with it, son. Whether she learns to forgive me in a few years, or never, I’ll take whatever decision she’s made. I...I don’t suppose I appear a very good father to her compared to Bail Organa. I’ve only caused her pain.” The former Sith-Lord lamented, breaking eye contact as he morbidly watched his own body burn.
For some minutes, there was silence.
Luke broke it by asking in as casual a tone as possible. “Bail Organa...he was a Senator, correct? Did he have any connection to you or...or mother, to adopt Leia like that?” Luke’s words were light, walking on eggshells. But Anakin seemed to be in a more generous mood this evening. The man shifted slightly, more out of habit than the discomfort of a corporeal form. Padme had been the last person he was ever open and truthful with.
“It’s alright, Luke. You can ask whatever you like.” Anakin acquiesced, sensing his son’s trepidation. “I must admit, answering your questions will be difficult, but I’m willing to give the information you deserve.”
Luke let out the breath he was holding, rolling his shoulders as his stiff posture began to relax. He sat down onto the grass, wrapping his arms around both legs as he listened to his father speak, still standing.
“Yes, Bail was a Senator. Though he was more acquainted with your mother...they were co-workers, you could say. Both sat on the Republic Senate in Coruscant, representing their respective planets, Naboo and Alderaan. Bail and his wife, Beru, the Queen had trouble conceiving a child for years, so I’m assuming that’s how Bail offered to adopt Leia. Had she been alive, I’m sure your mother would have helped found the Rebellion.” A small, wistful smile tugged at the corners of Anakin’s lips.
“What was her name?” Luke asked, cocking his head up to his father, who collapsed down onto the thick grass beside him.
“Padme Amidala Skywalker, formerly a member of the Naberrie family. I think someday, you should pay them a visit on Naboo. I’m sure Padme’s sister and whatever offspring she produced are still alive, if her parents Ruwee and Jobal passed. I think Leia would like that.”
Anakin looked at his son and gauged Luke's reaction to his suggestion. It may have seemed like only a little information, but already this was more than Luke had ever known of his maternal family in 23 years of living in this universe.
“I think so too.” Luke agreed, grinning into his lap and committing that influx of names to memory. He possibly had grandparents, an aunt and cousins. He knew that after losing Alderaan, this would be a balm of comfort for Leia, who’d been uprooted from her culture.
“It would be nice to meet them after...a-after…” Luke’s smile twitched, lowering into a frown. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the image of his own family’s ruined bodies and the scent of burning corpses.
Luke shuddered, mouth opening and closing as his windpipe suddenly refused to cooperate with him. “I...I…” He took a deep breath, tears forming in his eyes as the flames in front of him brought back a terribly painful memory.
As if understanding his plight, Anakin said nothing. He stopped the conversation of nostalgia short, waiting for Luke to calm himself as he shook and hiccoughed. Four years of hyper vigilance had caused Luke to bury all his grief - he’d lost Owen and Beru, Biggs, Obi-Wan, Yoda...
Anakin was sure that if he was still alive, his own anguish would have overwhelmed him likewise - but he felt a sense of peace within joining the Force he believed he didn’t deserve after all the suffering he caused, and felt strange after years of blood-curdling fury motivating him.
“You know, I was separated from my mother, Shmi when I was nine years old. I think...I think that was the catalyst for it all, really.” Anakin admitted, causing Luke to look up from his foetal position, his rocking having stopped as he looked sideways, red-eyed.
“Shmi? I remember being taken to her grave on the homestead.” Luke croaked, his throat feeling like sandpaper, being dehydrated from crying and sitting so close next to the orange flames. He wished he’d had the hindsight to bring a canteen of water or something while waiting for the body to burn. He rubbed his eyes, feeling sore all over now his adrenaline was finally fading.
“When I was nineteen, I kept receiving horrible visions that she was in danger. While on a mission to protect Padme on Naboo, I went with her to Tatooine to trace my mother’s whereabouts. We discovered from my old owner, Watto who lost a bet to Obi-Wan’s Master, Qui-Gon - and that is a story for another time, that Shmi had been sold to and freed by a moisture farmer, Owen’s father Cliegg Lars whom she married.”
This made Anakin pause, thinking back on the shock he felt when he found out Shmi had found a husband. He wondered how different things would have gone for his family, had he remained with Shmi and Cliegg on Tatooine instead of becoming a Jedi. Would Palpatine have found some other way to rise to power and create the Empire?
“I discovered, however that Tusken Raiders had abducted her.” Luke startled at the information, causing Anakin to narrow his eyes, but he decided he’d ask about that peculiar reaction later. There was a visceral wariness of the Tuskens for all humans on Tatooine, especially the farmers who lived further out like the Lars family, but Luke’s reaction seemed drenched in the fear of one who’d seen Tuskens with his own eyes. Anakin didn’t like it one bit.
““When I reached the camp, I sneaked inside and held her in my arms before she finally succumbed to her wounds. The...the rage I felt was indescribable. It utterly consumed me, made me stop thinking clearly. All I wanted was vengeance for the suffering my mother endured. I wanted them all to feel it tenfold, to watch their loved ones writhe in pain as I did mine. To see them gasp their last breath in front of their very eyes. And then…it was all so easy, succumbing to the darkness after that.” Anakin revealed one of his deepest secrets, causing Luke to go numb with horror.
It all finally made sense.
The only shame of slavery Luke had felt the brunt of was the association of his surname. He couldn’t imagine the humiliation, the pliable mindset Anakin had grown whereas Luke was born defiant since his birth. It was a quieter defiance than Leia’s bursting rebellion, but a defiance nonetheless that grew into a burning star.
“Obi-Wan saved me from Jabba’s thugs when I was a kid.” He blurted, attempting to ease his father’s painful recollection. It didn’t seem the right thing to say, however.
“What?!” Anakin clenched his fists, and a touch of Vader’s fearsome flame of Sith-Lord anger sparked behind his eyes. Luke flinched involuntarily.
“What?” Anakin repeated more coolly, trying to ease the sudden spike of tension that permeated the humid air of Endor.
“Jabba’s thugs were harassing me, asking if I was alone, then suddenly they started being thrown around like rag dolls. I don’t…really remember how I lost consciousness then. But in hindsight, who else could it have been other than Old Ben?” He mused.
“Ben?” Anakin inquired curiously.
“Old Ben Kenobi, that was his name when he was living in exile on Tatooine. He was pretty much viewed as a crazy hermit, though the rumours he was a wizard held some truth to them I guess.” Luke uprooted shoots of grass from the solid, cracked dirt, twisting it around the thumb of his flesh hand.
“I suppose he must have looked out for you, then.” Anakin murmured, unsure what to think of this new information. They both still felt hurt by all of the deception Obi-Wan had done in the name of protecting Anakin’s children, all of it seemed to do more harm than good – separating the twins (who vowed never to speak of that kiss), refusing to tell Luke the truth. Which had ended in complete disaster on Bespin.
“He can’t have looked out for you very well if he didn’t notice you falling to the dark side, then.” Luke grumbled bitterly, almost spitefully as a rush of betrayal washed over him.
“Do you know that the Jedi had a rule of no attachments? We couldn’t marry or produce offspring. The Code forbade it.” Anakin revealed lightly, though a hint of protectiveness laced his words. He seemed to have shed all of his resentment after he’d died. Luke wished he could say the same.
“Then...then that means-”
“That I broke the rules? Yes. Your mother and I kept our marriage secret from the public, with dire consequences. We had no idea what to do concerning you or your sister, though we weren’t aware there were twins. I just assumed there was one baby and we argued over the gender.” Anakin flushed, ghost skin tinting brighter. He supposed both he and his wife were right on whether Padme had been carrying a boy or a girl.
“I didn’t tell Obi-Wan, because I feared he wouldn’t understand. He clearly loved me, but was bound by the Jedi Code. I didn’t know whether he’d support me or reveal our secret to Master Yoda.” He lowered his head.
“Would you have left the Order, raised us on Naboo if you hadn’t gone to the dark side?” Luke asked. Now it was his turn to wonder how differently things could have gone.
“I think if push came to shove…yes.” The abrupt answer surprised Luke, who widened his eyes in disbelief, then his face broke out into a goofy smile. “Anyway, your mother would have fought tooth and nail to keep us all together. She was a force to be reckoned with.”
Anakin threw his head back and chuckled. The sound was so wonderful, Luke could melt into the warmth his father could freely give now he wasn’t held back by his loyalty to Palpatine or the Jedi. He was free – free to laugh, free to love. Soon, Luke joined him, barking in mirthless joy at the thought of his mother marching straight up to Yoda and dragging Anakin out of the Temple herself.
“That would have been nice. I wanted a father for so long, I practically idolised you.” Luke breathed wistfully, looking back up at the progress the pyre was making. Luke was sure only ashes remained. The melted husk of the ebony suit was left on top of the wood.
“I’m so sorry I disappointed you, Luke.” Anakin became tight lipped, wringing his hands.
“Don’t worry. You more than made up for it, father.” Luke assured, reaching his hand out to lock fingers around the vague form of Anakin’s fist. It wasn’t full body contact, but a light, warm tingling sensation. He wished they could really touch, but this was enough.
After some moments, Luke checked and glanced sideways, noticing that his father’s ghost was gone.
Anakin Skywalker’s soul was at rest.
Gathering himself, Luke watched the lingering smoke rise into the stars. He then got up, heading over to a nearby walkway on the edge of the forest, which led back into the distant revelry the Rebels and Ewoks had started.
After all, he had a party to go to.