The Little Things

Bitter Sweet Symphony

Bittersweet

–

Well I've never prayed but tonight I'm on my knees
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now
But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now

–

Phren was led to Darth Vader's chamber by two prison guards. He held the crystal bowl in his handcuffed hands. Vader was staring out the window, looking at the stars, thinking about his latest adventure, his unbridled passion, and how it seemed to be more of a hindrance than a help these days. Forget the foundations he laid out, he was bound to destroy it all now.

"You wanted to see me?" Phren began once the guards dropped him off and closed the door on their way out.

Vader didn't look back at him; his eyes remained firmly on the view out the window. "I always thought I was the only one who could make her happy. Thought I knew best." So many sacrifices, he thought. . .and none had paid off. "But life has humbled me."

The Dark Lord finally turned to face the philosopher who stood there in his white prison uniform with orange patches on the sleeves. Phren's once jet black hair now had streaks of silver in it. Vader headed towards him with patient, calm footsteps.

"You once said, it's not where I go on this journey, it's who goes." He spoke, now inches away from Phren. Vader looked down at the crystal bowl in the prisoner's hands. "And if I was the man who deserved it, I wouldn't go... I wouldn't have done this."

Phren did his best to peer into Vader's dark lenses. For a man who constantly wrestled with his own mind, Vader had gotten very good at masking his fears, his trauma, doubts, dependence, and weaknesses under a mighty exterior. Or perhaps, he was stabilizing after all.

The Dark Lord reached over and unlocked Phren's handcuffs. The metal constraints made a clanking sound as they fell to the floor.

"You're free to go." Vader rasped.

Phren glanced at the handcuffs on the floor and back up to the Sith. The crystal bowl in his hands started to shimmer with potential as blue waves appeared at the bottom, capturing Vader's attention.

Phren didn't take his eyes off Vader's helmet, knowing the tall, dark figure was perplexed under the mask. He had to admit he admired Vader's devotion, even to the wrong things. The Sith was loyal to a fault. But, for a man who went from barely controlling his emotions to burying them deep down, it was impressive to watch Vader learn to dig them up again with a more controlled progression, an achievement... An acceptance – a balance.

"The pendulum has to swing both ways. . .then it finds peace in the middle." The corners of Phren's mouth turned upwards. "Let's go for a walk."

–

Vader looked around at his new surroundings while Phren took casual steps behind him. It was clear that Phren was enjoying the fresh air after being locked in a prison cell all this time.

"I know this place." Vader uttered as his eyes traveled over the gardens, the freshly cut green grass, and yellow flowers.

He turned back to Phren who nodded for him to look in a certain direction, and Vader saw the woman ahead. She stood there in a velvet cloak with a neat twin bun hairstyle.

And Darth Vader felt that he had found his place in the cosmos.

"Padme," Vader breathed out, striding over to her. Each step felt like returning home, planting relief and contentment into the ground which was supplied back to him through his toes. He now stands before her, his fingers caress her soft cheek and he appreciates the erotic response at the tip of his fingers as they trail down her lips, chin, and neck – getting to rediscover her, explore what was lost in imagination. A vivid gesture is felt through his leather gloves and it all becomes clear – if he could feel, then he wasn't Vader under the mask.