Their Lady Adyé [Star Wars]

Vader's Mask

Athara stood looking at the melted, burnt husk that used to be a mask she recognized better than just about any face.

She'd retrieved Vader's destroyed mask from the Sanctuary Moon when she and Luke had decided to start their Jedi Academy. It felt like the right thing to do, to have it as a symbol and a reminder of the temptation and the cost of the Dark Side.

And it was the only thing she had left of her Master.

True, she did periodically see Anakin's Force ghost, but those visits were becoming fewer and farther between as the years passed. And she understood why. There was a desire for peace there, for rest. Especially in the years since Padmé had joined him.

A flicker through the Force drew Athara's attention from her contemplation of the mask. Realizing almost instantly who it was, she fought back an indulgent grin.

"You should be in bed, Ben," she said quietly without turning, knowing he would hear her, "what are you doing up so late?" With a faint, reluctant scuffle, Athara's nephew shuffled out from the nook where he'd been hiding.

"How do you always do that," he muttered petulantly, though the hint of awe all her students had when Athara's senses proved their sharpness was still in his voice.

She responded the same way she always did: "Practice." This time she couldn't hide her grin, laying an arm over his thin shoulders as he came to stand beside her, looking up at Vader's mask. He was getting taller too, Athara noted absently.

"What are you doing here," he asked her quietly, wincing at the way his voice cracked as he spoke. Even as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her secret amusement at his erratic voice changes to herself, she didn't miss that he still hadn't answered her question. She thought for a moment, peering surreptitiously at the dark-haired boy. His gaze was firmly fixed on the charred mask.

"Thinking," she finally said, deciding that answering herself might prompt him to answer too, "remembering." They stood there together for a few moments, each contemplating the mask, as he thought over her answer.

"I was thinking too," he finally said, proving Athara's theory, "and wondering about him." He gestured toward the mask. Athara made a noncommittal sound, encouraging him to continue. After a few more moments of silence he turned to her, his eyes bright and eager as he looked to her.

"He was your Master, wasn't he? The way Uncle Luke is mine?" She took her time thinking over how best to answer him, studying the eagerness in his face, the curiosity. She supposed wanting to know more about his grandfather was natural—he had always begged Padmé for stories about Anakin, and after the explosive revelation that Anakin and Vader had been one and the same that he'd been caught up in? But a tremulous sensation in the Force warned her to be careful. She nearly frowned at the feeling.

"He was," she finally answered simply, necessitating him to ask after what it was that he wanted to know.

"What was he like?" What indeed. It was something Athara hadn't quite been able to puzzle out. Even years later, she couldn't quite explain Vader and her relationship to him, or her feelings for him to anyone but Luke—and arguably she hadn't even explicitly 'told' him, per se, more like shown him through feelings, behaviors and memories that he was able to read into by sheer virtue of knowing her so well. She took a deep breath, trying to formulate just what to say. It was a tricky situation; Ben was still hurting from the fact that he'd found out Darth Vader and his grandfather had been one and the same from the Galactic media and not his family. Athara hadn't agreed with keeping it a secret from the children, but it had ultimately been decided that it would be healthier for the children to be old enough to understand what had happened to their grandfather, to protect them from the horrifying truth. Only now Athara was beginning to wonder if that had been a mistake. Eventually she sighed, deciding to be as truthful as possible.