Chapter Text
Luke Skywalker only wanted one thing for Christmas. It was what he’d wished for with every shooting star and every prayer to spirits of the desert. He’d desired this gift for so long, especially when he saw the other kids at school and their families. No, he didn’t wish for a speeder or a droid or even a TIE Fighter he’d seen on the HoloNet. He knew exactly what to write when Beru told him to send a letter to Santa.
Dear Santa,
Hi Santa. My name is Luke Skywalker. I am eight years old. I REALLY REALLY REALLY want this for Christmas so please give it to me. I want my Daddy for Christmas so we can go flying together and he can take me to school and beat up people that call me wormie. Also I want my Daddy so I don’t have to clean my room when Aunt Beru tells me to. Thank you Santa and have a good Christmas. Please give me my Daddy.
Love,
Luke Skywalker
Christmas approached slowly. The days dragged on as Luke saw the Tatooine markets fill with people looking for last minute gifts (Luke didn’t understand why people bought gifts for each other when Santa bought gifts for everybody.) Even Owen begrudgingly went along with the holiday spirit, stringing up the lights around the homestead. The scent of blue cookies permeated the house. Luke decorated their tree with the TIE Fighter ornaments Owen had picked up at a local store. His uncle came in and ruffled his hair, sitting down to watch Luke in silence. Eventually, he said, “What’d you ask for, Luke?”
Luke paused. He didn’t want to tell Owen he asked for his Daddy. Whenever Luke brought up his Father, Owen and Beru would frown and shake their heads and say his Daddy was lost amongst the stars. Anakin Skywalker had been a navigator on a spice freighter, so maybe he’d pressed the wrong buttons on a ship and ended up in the wrong galaxy.
PS, he added, please tell my Daddy I don’t blame him for getting lost .
And so Luke waited for Christmas Day, when he’d receive his present. He waited for the day his father would return.
For countless millennia, the Jedi and Sith both told themselves the same lie: that they were the most powerful people in the universe. That their power over the Force gave them total control, that there was nothing that could match them except each other.
Of course, there was something more powerful. That something crept through the hallways of Mustafar Castle, irritated at the lack of cookies. Santa had been to this place to deliver heaps of coal every year, but somehow Darth Vader refused to get the message. But he wasn’t here for Vader. No, the young Luke Skywalker had been the perfect child. He’d helped his Aunt with the dishes, cleaned the vaporators without his uncle asking, and waved hello to Obi-Wan Kenobi every morning. Santa hoped the boy would ask for a toy or possibly a new speeder. That was easy. But no, the boy asked for his father. And Santa had to deliver.
Thankfully, he was a multi-dimensional being that did not obey the normal laws of physics (how else could he deliver presents to everyone in the galaxy?) so he did not feel the raging heat of Mustafar. He hauled his gift bag behind him. Vader was quite the large present, but the Sith Lord would have to make room.
Santa made his way past the guards (they also earned piles of coal for Christmas) and into the main chamber. Vader’s deep vocoder echoed throughout the room. “I have eliminated the Rebels on Ryloth for you, my Master.” That incident was just one of many that earned Vader second place on Santa’s naughty list (number one went to Sheev Palpatine.) “There shall be no more pathetic uprisings from these rebels.”
“Good, good.” Santa made sure to blend into the background. He used the power of Christmas Spirit™ to blend into the shadows, ensuring neither of the Sith noticed his presence. “You have done well, my apprentice. I will speak with you another time.” The Emperor laughed evilly and the holo cut out. Vader remained in place, probably contemplating his numerous mistakes that got him to this place.
“Anakin Skywalker,” Santa announced, stepping forward. “I am Santa Claus. You are a young boy’s Christmas present. You can either come willingly or by force.”
The Sith Lord whipped around. Instead of immediately attacking, Vader stared at the large man with a red suit and large bag for several moments. Then, he raised his fist. Santa felt the Force shift around him, and he coughed slightly.
“Impressive,” Santa said. “Now, come along, I have plenty of other gifts to deliver.”
Vader summoned his lightsaber and turned it on, lunging at Santa with a ferocity of a krayt dragon. Santa felt a slight burning sensation as the lightsaber cut through him, but otherwise was fine. Darth Vader raised his fist again and bits of the walls tore off and flew right at Santa. The Christmas legend swatted away the sheets of metal and opened his bag of presents. This was going to take awhile.
“What…” Vader said slowly. “How, how is this possible-”
“I am Santa Claus,” Santa repeated. “The power of the Force is insignificant compared to the spirit of Christmas.” He reached for Vader’s helmet to drag the man into the gift bag, but the Sith Lord dodged and sung the lightsaber again. “You have no power here. I will deliver you to the young Luke whether you like it or not.”
“Deliver me?” Vader spat. “You are not the first idiot to capture me, and you will not be the last. But I will ensure your death is the most painful.”
Santa closed his eyes and drew on the spirits of every child he gave a gift to. The feeling of Christmas overwhelmed him, giving him the power to avoid every one of Vader’s blows. The Sith Lord’s attacks rolled off of him, and Vader started to tear the castle apart as Santa chased Vader down, looking to put the Sith in the gift bag.
“Who are you?” Vader roared. “Are you a beast my Master has devised with the Dark Side?”
Santa snorted. The Dark Side . As if the Sith couldn’t get any more pretentious. Vader continued his temper tantrum, trying again and again to force choke Santa. Eventually, the old man grew tired and whistled sharply, patiently tapping his boot on the ground.
“You are a fool if you think you can defeat-”
The reindeer crashed through the walls of the castle, stomping over Vader. The Sith crumbled, falling to the ground, and Santa put a sleeping spell on Vader before he could wake up. Then, Santa grabbed the Dark Lord by the boots and stuffed him into the gift bag. He still had so many planets to get to, and his journey had barely started. He hoped Luke Skywalker would love his father, as unpleasant as the man actually was.
He stopped. Vader had murdered countless people. In fact, one year Santa decided to give Vader a piece of coal for every person he killed, but soon realized there was not enough coal in the galaxy for that.
An idea flashed in his mind. He placed another spell on Vader as he put the final bow on top of the man’s helmet.
That should keep him from causing trouble , Santa thought. And with that, he made his way back to his sleigh and set out to finish his journey.
Darth Vader experienced few emotions. Anger, frustration, pain, annoyance, bloodlust, and the neverending angst of being a widower. But one thing he’d never felt as a Sith was surprise. Now, opening his eyes, that was all that was in his mind. He was not in Mustafar Castle. No, he laid on a harsh floor next to an obnoxious tree with ornaments haphazardly tossed onto it.
This had to be a trick from his Master. He reached out to the Force, asking the Dark Side for answers, and found nothing. Absolutely nothing. He stuck out a fist. The tree didn’t move an inch. Then he tried the nearby chair. It remained frozen. Vader closed his eyes, tried to feel the constant cold of the Dark, but only felt the feeling of sand getting into his mask.
Sand , he cursed, it’s so coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere!
Had Palpatine trapped him on Tatooine again? All Vader could remember was an old man claiming to be Santa of all things. Sidious had pumped drugs into the suit to knock Vader out. After all, Santa wasn’t real. Anakin Skywalker became brutally aware of that during his first Christmas with Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“No way!” Vader blinked and saw a child standing nearby, pointing at Vader in amazement. “Santa got me a droid!” The boy rushed over and grabbed Vader’s shoulders, shaking him. Vader reached out to the Force to snap the boy’s neck and realized he couldn’t do so. The Force was lost to him. “Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen! Look at this!”
Two adults ran into the room. Something about their faces rang familiar to Vader, though he had no idea why. The woman screamed and ran off while the man’s jaw dropped.
“I can’t believe you got me a droid!” the boy clapped his hands and ran over to the man. “Thank you so much!”
This is a hallucination, Vader decided. A very odd hallucination.
The woman returned, gripping a blaster. “Who are you?” she pointed at him, and Vader remembered he couldn’t crush it with a blaster. “Are you one of Jabba’s enforcers? We paid those damn water taxes!”
“I am not a Hutt ,” he protested. “I am Darth Vader, Second in Command of the Imperial Navy.”
“What are you doing in my house?” the man pulled the boy behind him. “We’ve done nothing against the Empire.”
The boy peeked out behind the man’s legs. “So you’re not a droid? Why did Santa give me you, then?”
“I am a Sith Lord!” He raised his fist, but when nothing happened, he deflated slightly. “I am not a Christmas present, you foolish child.”
The boy stuck his tongue out with the audacity that had gotten hundreds of others killed. “This is so lame. I asked Santa for my Daddy!”
Vader wished he could Force choke the child. “What an idiotic wish, child. Santa isn’t real.”
The boy gasped and burst into tears, and the woman raised the blaster higher. “Luke, sweetie, please-”
“I hate you!” Luke cried. “I want my Daddy! I want Anakin Skywalker!”
Reality shattered. The world outside this boy melted away. Luke had her chin, and her passionate anger. Vader could not feel the Force, but somehow he knew that this child was his son.
“Luke!” the woman fired her blaster. Vader dodged, but the bolt hit the shoulder of his suit. He lunged for the child as she continued to fire at him. He snatched up the child and had to stop Luke from biting into his prosthetic hand.
“Stop, child,” he hissed. “I am your father.”
“No you’re not!” Luke shrieked. “You’re a big meanie!”
“My stepbrother is dead ,” the man said. “You can’t be him.”
“Stepbrother-?” Vader then remembered the family his mother married into. “I forgot about that.”
“You- you’re Anakin?” the woman gasped. “But, but how-”
Luke squirmed in Vader’s arms, and he raised the child so they would be face to face. The boy placed a tiny hand on Vader’s helmet. “Daddy…?” he whispered, his voice so soft that Vader barely caught it. He had to be dreaming. He’d already hallucinated Santa Claus attacking him at Mustafar, surely he had to be imagining the boy in front of him. Because if Luke was real, if Vader had a child, then he was not alone.
“Yes, Luke,” he said. “I am your father.”
“But-” the woman yelled.
“-Kenobi said-”
“Kenobi!” Vader almost dropped Luke from the shock. “I should not be surprised. You-” he pointed at the couple, “-conspired with Obi-Wan to steal my son!”
“Who is Obi-Wan, Daddy?” Luke said. “He seems like a butthead.”
“He is,” Vader agreed.
“But Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen are nice! They don’t work with buttheads.”
Yelling overcame the room. Vader may have tried to force choke his stepbrother before he remembered he couldn’t do that anymore. Luke covered his ears as Beru politely informed Vader that they weren’t kidnappers. “We need to settle down. And you-” she gestured to Vader, “need to explain what happened.”
Vader refused to part with the child. Luke didn’t seem to complain and curled up in Vader’s arms. Despite the insanity of the day, the universe righted itself; the son returned to the father. Beru cleared out the kitchen table and brought out a steaming cup of milk and a bowl of cereal for Luke. The boy frowned. “I want cookies for breakfast,” Luke insisted.
“No, honey, cookies are for dessert.”
Luke turned up to face Vader. The Sith Lord admired his son’s perfection as the boy tapped his armor. “Daddy, can I have cookies for breakfast?”
How could Vader refuse an angel like Luke? “Yes.”
Beru glared. “Luke, you have to listen to your aunt.”
“But he’s my Daddy and he said it’s okay.”
Beru faced Vader and shook her head. “Anakin, please-”
“That name is dead to me. I am Darth Vader.”
“Fine, Darth Vader , please do not give Luke cookies for breakfast.”
“He is my child.”
They went back and forth for a while before Luke reached out and a cookie flew from the table into his hands. “Wow!” the boy proclaimed. “How’d I do that?”
“The Force, young one,” Vader said. If only he still had a connection to the Force. “I can see you are already growing your abilities.” Pride swelled inside him. His son could already use the Force, despite not even knowing his true parentage until today. “You will be quite powerful one day.”
Owen shook his head as Luke shoved the cookie in his mouth. “How did you get into our house?” Vader’s stepbrother said. “Kenobi told us you’d been killed in the Clone Wars.”
“Anakin Skywalker died and I rose from the ashes.”
Owen raised an eyebrow.
“Metaphorically,” Vader added. “I became a Sith Lord and joined the Emperor. I was delivered to your home by-” he paused, “-by Santa Claus.”
Luke jumped up in Vader’s lap. “Santa got me my Daddy! Biggs is gonna be so mad when he finds out!”
At Beru’s confused expression, Vader explained what led up to him waking up in their home. He did not add that he couldn’t use the Force; it was best for them to be afraid of him in case they tried to take Luke. He savored the feeling of Luke in his arms, just in case this was a dream. Padme was right; their child was a boy. The name meant “Light” in the Nabooian language, so Padme must have named him. Vader did not kill her.
“But first,” Vader rose from the chair. “I must deal with Kenobi.”
“Yay!” Luke clapped his hands. “My first adventure with Daddy!”
Before Owen and Beru could protest, Vader rushed out of the house. Then, he realized that he had no way to find Kenobi without the Force. “My son,” he placed Luke on the ground. Vader then noticed Luke was still in his pajamas. “Where is Kenobi?”
“This way, Daddy!”
Vader had dreamed of encountering Kenobi again for years. He’d march down with his Inquisitors and crush Obi-Wan’s throat, or catch up to the Jedi after a long chase. Never did he picture a child rushing him through the desert, babbling on about how “Uncle Ben” liked to be alone but no one should be alone on Christmas.
“Being alone on Christmas is the least he deserves,” Vader said.
Luke froze. “Why? Christmas is fun. Why should anyone miss out?”
The Sith Lord had missed out on the holiday for the past decade, though he didn’t bring that up. “Because Kenobi betrayed me,” Vader declared. “He is a liar and a thief.” Anger boiled inside him at the thought of the time he’d lost with Luke, all because a self-righteous Jedi kidnapped his son. “They do not deserve anything for Christmas.”
“ Everyone deserves to have a nice Christmas.” Luke stuck out his tongue. “Oh, there he is, Daddy!”
The boy zoomed ahead, and Vader struggled to keep up. Without the Force, his suit moved at a snail’s pace.
“Uncle Ben!” Luke yelled. “Look what I got!”
“Merry Christmas, Luke,” Kenobi said. Then the old man actually saw Vader. The old Jedi stared for several moments, eyes wide open, before throwing Luke behind and summoning his lightsaber.
“Cool!” Luke waved to Vader. “Daddy, look at what Ben got for Christmas.”
“What-” Kenobi turned around. “Darth, how are you even here?”
“Santa Claus,” Vader responded, deadpan. “I am my son’s Christmas gift.”
For once, Obi-Wan Kenobi could not speak. Luke tugged on the Jedi’s robes (how in the Force did none of the stormtroopers recognize Jedi robes? Imbeciles). “I told Santa to give me my Daddy for Christmas and I woke up and he was here, and he says he’s my Daddy and we’re gonna go on adventures together-”
“How did you find the boy, Vader? Am I to presume his guardians have been slaughtered?”
“No.” Vader wished he could still roll his eyes. “The boy’s aunt is merely annoyed that I let him have cookies for breakfast.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “Wait, Daddy, can I have cookies for lunch? And dinner?”
“No.” The Sith Lord did not know much about parenting, but he figured it wouldn’t do well for the child to be hopped up on sugar all the time. “Cookies do not have enough nutritional value to sustain you, son.”
The boy stared up, and his pout matched Padme’s. Vader’s heart sped up as he gazed at his child’s glistening eyes. “Please,” Luke whispered. “You’ve already made my Christmas special, but I really want cookies-”
“Fine.” Luke jumped for joy. Vader ignored the fluttering of his heart (his suit must be malfunctioning). “Now, back to you, child thief.”
“Anakin, a child cannot have cookies for lunch,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Nevermind. What the hell happened?”
Obi-Wan Kenobi had been the Empire’s top target for years. The smooth-speaking General was a fierce warrior, able to slay entire battalions of clones or droids. As much as Vader hated it, his old Master was a worthy opponent, one Vader never fully convinced himself he’d be able to defeat. But now, Obi-Wan was a statue, frozen in silence for an eternity.
“Santa Claus,” the old man murmured. “You say that you fought with Santa Claus and he gave you to Luke as a Christmas present? ”
“Yes.” Vader had told the story multiple times, and he was getting tired of repeating himself. “Have you forgotten Basic in the past decade, Kenobi?”
Luke played with a set of toys Kenobi kept in his home. The child zigzagged over the tiny hut, imitating the sound of ships as he ran. “That is not possible,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Santa isn’t real.”
“Luke is eight,” Vader said, noticing how quiet his Master became. “So he’s not old enough to learn the truth?”
Kenobi’s face darkened. “You were nine!” the Jedi said quietly. “I thought you already knew.”
“Typical Jedi arrogance.”
One of the many times Anakin Skywalker had witnessed the Jedi’s callousness was a few months after he’d gotten to the Temple. He’d quietly asked Obi-Wan if they could bake cookies for Santa together. Obi-Wan blinked down at him and said bluntly, “Santa isn’t real.”
Anakin proceeded to spend that Christmas sobbing in his quarters.
Obi-Wan sighed. “I won’t let you hurt Luke.”
“I have no intention of hurting my son, Kenobi,” Vader replied. “I won’t let you spread your propaganda-”
“DADDY!” Luke yelled. “Look at me, I’m a TIE fighter!” The boy spun his arms around. He tripped and tumbled to the floor, but then shot right back up and launched himself at Vader. Vader scooped up the boy and placed Luke in his lap.
“Luke,” Obi-Wan tensed up. “Vader may be your father, but you cannot be near him. He’s dangerous.”
Luke paused. “Why?”
“Because he’s a Sith.”
“What’s a Sith?”
“The Sith are the true Masters of the Force,the energy that connects us all.” Vader added after seeing Luke’s confused expression. “I am a Sith Lord, and you shall be one day too, son.” Obi–Wan looked like he was going to have a stroke. “It is your birthright.”
Luke paused. “Will I get a cape, Daddy?”
“Of course.” Luke cheered and snuggled up against Vader’s chestplate. This was a far more excruciating way to torture Obi-Wan than anything Vader ever imagined. “As you see, old man, there is nothing to fear. Luke is perfectly safe with me.” The Jedi still hadn’t spoken. It was perfect. With Luke here, there was nothing Obi-Wan could do.
“Uncle Ben.” Luke’s voice made Obi-Wan jolt. “What did Santa get you for Christmas?”
Obi-Wan stared at Luke. “I, well, Santa did not bring me anything, child.”
Luke gasped. “But Santa brings everyone a present!”
Not Vader, apparently, though he didn’t say that.
“Now, I’m sure he just forgot-”
“But he got me my Daddy! You deserve something for Christmas too!” Luke paused. “Santa must’ve made a mistake.”
“I’m alright without a present, Luke-”
“Or perhaps he is on the naughty list, child,” Vader petted Luke’s hair. “I know this man and he has done horrible things.”
“Like what?” Luke leaned closer to Vader, subtly backing away from Kenobi. “Uncle Ben is really nice.”
“Well, there was the time he pushed me into lava.”
Obi-Wan gasped. “I did not push you, Anakin, you fell in! After I warned you about the high ground!”
Luke shifted and tapped Vader’s helmet. “Daddy, are you okay?”
“I am fine, Luke,” he answered, still irritated at Obi-Wan’s existence. “Kenobi seems to have forgotten a few things-”
“I’m not the one that forgot my vows to the Order-”
“Did you really fall into the lava?” Luke whispered. “I thought that was just a game.”
“Yes.”
Luke launched himself off of Vader’s lap and pulled on Vader’s glove, dragging him to the door. “We have to go to the doctor. Aunt Beru told me lava really hurts!”
That was certainly a way for the child to put it.
“Umm, I don’t believe that’s necessary, Luke-” Obi-Wan said weakly. But Luke did not take no for an answer. And so they went, following Luke through the desert.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had lost his mind. Years in the desert had killed off the last of his brain cells, leaving him in whatever delusional fantasy he was in now. Or maybe all of this had been a dream. Maybe he was slowly dying on Mustafar, or maybe Ventress had knocked him on the head and he was unconscious. Or the ghosts of all the Jedi he failed were here to torture him. Because this could not be happening.
Darth Vader- Anakin- was here. With Luke. On Tatooine. And not killing people.
Give me strength, Master Qui-Gon , he thought, as Luke marched them into town towards a nearby clinic. Obi-Wan hadn’t gone there once (it would be unfortunate for his DNA to get into the system), but he’d passed by it several times. Anakin- no, Vader- had to bend down to fit under the door. Several of the residents in the lobby stared at them.
“Luke, this is very sweet of you-”
The boy approached the front desk. “My Daddy is sick. He needs help.”
A Twi’lek woman looked up from her holopad. Her eyes widened at Vader, but she regained composure and cleared her throat. “Ah, yes, and what might that be?” she said, gazing at Obi-Wan.
“Oh,” he realized. “Well, I’m not-”
“I am the child’s father, you cretin,” Vader raised his fist, and Obi-Wan was grateful the Sith no longer had access to the Force. “That man over there is a kidnapper.”
The Twi’lek gasped. “What- do I need to call the police?”
Obi-Wan waved a hand. “You do not need to call the police.”
“I do not need to call the police.” The Force suggestion wormed its way through the nurse’s mind, and she relaxed. She smiled and gave Luke a lollipop from behind her desk. “So, sweetie, what’s your dad’s name?”
“Darth Vader.”
“Anakin Skywalker.”
Both Obi-Wan and Vader stared at each other. “That name is dead to me,” Vader hissed.
“Only dead because you chose to kill it,” Obi-Wan replied. “You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.”
“More lies from a Master of deception-”
“Excuse me!” The Twi’lek cleared her throat. “I don’t know what Holodrama stuff is going on with you two, but this is a medical facility.” She brought out a Holopad. “Now, sir, what medical issues are you seeking treatment for?”
“I have lost all my limbs and use a prosthetic suit to survive. It requires constant updates…….”
Six Hours Later
“-and I require dips in a bacta tank ever two days.” Vader stared down at the nurse. Tears ran down her face as she struggled to type down everything he said. “That is all.”
“I-” she breathed sharply. “Okay, so it seems like you have…. issues .”
“It is because of the lies and arrogance of the Jedi.”
“Yes, alright. The clinic actually closed an hour ago, but we can fit you in tomorrow if you’d like. Do you have health insurance?”
“I am the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy. I do not need health insurance .”
The nurse raised an eyebrow. Before she could comment, Obi-Wan reached out to the Force. “We have health insurance,” he said. Then, “Excellent health insurance.”
“You have excellent health insurance.” The nurse blinked. “Anyways, Merry Christmas! See you tomorrow!”
Beru fired her blaster at Vader when they reached the homestead again. It missed him by a mile, like she wasn’t even trying to kill him. “Where did you take Luke? We were looking for you all day?”
Vader gestured to his old Master. “With the child thief,” he replied. “Who appeared to tell you I was dead.”
Beru gasped. “Ben? What are you doing here? You told us Anakin had been killed!”
“When he-” Obi-Wan pointed to Vader, “-became a Sith, he ceased to be his old self. In all ways except physically Anakin Skywalker is dead. So what I said was true, from a certain point of view.”
Vader wondered how many times Obi-Wan told himself that at night.
Beru sighed and put her blaster away. “Ben, you are lucky I will not blow your head off with this.”
“Now that we’ve established that Kenobi is a lying snake, I’d like to go back inside.” Vader didn’t wait for a response before following Luke into the house. His son sat under a tiny Christmas tree decorated with droid ornaments. Luke hadn’t even opened his other presents yet.
“Here, my son.” Vader bent down and picked up a box. “Open it.”
The boy tore through the dark wrapping paper to reveal a set of socks. Luke held up the items and frowned. “Oh.”
White hot rage coursed through Vader. Of course Santa did not give Luke a gift
worthy of his stature. Luke should have been gifted endless speeders and jewels and shining palaces. His son deserved to be treated like a prince.
Luke put the socks down and wiped his eyes. Then, he glanced back up at Vader. “It’s okay. I have my Daddy now.”
This is what had been stolen from him. Years of being able to raise Luke, gift him the galaxy, and turn him into a powerful Sith. But now he had the chance. Despite Kenobi’s interference, Vader wouldn’t let anything get in the way of him and his son.
Santa had given them both a gift for Christmas.