Forbidden

Beneath Black Heart's Surface

Luke’s POV

As they made their way to the shuttle that would take them down to Black Heart, all of Luke’s attention was centered on the feeling of Vader’s hand lightly pressing against his lower back. His father’s touch burned through his jacket and shirt like a brand, a brand that he imagined read: Property of the Dark Lord. He shivered despite the warmth. Whether it was out of desire or fear or a combination of both, Luke didn’t know. He wondered if the troopers understood the possessive touch for what it was. He wondered especially if Damon did and if that was why the young man’s gaze on him felt like a blade. But Damon’s presence faded, even the clicking of the troopers’ armored boots became muted, when Luke looked up at Vader’s profile. 

Luke’s gaze followed the sculpted line of his father’s jaw, lingered on the plush lips and high cheekbones, and finally slid to the hair that spilled in luxurious waves down to the broad muscled shoulders. Vader’s beauty added to his aura of power, his place as commander of the Imperial Fleet, and also his role as father. ‘Father. That title always meant strength, security, and warmth. Now it means beauty, desire and darkness, too.’ If the mask had accentuated the fear that Vader could inspire, then his exposed face would heighten his enemies’ despair, because death should never be so terribly lovely. ‘Please let Damon’s interest in me be the passing, minor thing I believe it to be. For his sake, let me be right.’

As they drew near to the shuttle’s gangway, a frantic beeping caught Luke’s attention. 

“Artoo!”

The small blue and white droid trundled between running troopers over to Luke. The boy dropped down to his haunches, which broke his father’s touch. The loss nearly staggered Luke and he had to balance himself against Artoo’s casing or risk falling over. The droid beeped and hooted happily at Luke.

“Yes, Artoo, I’m fine. Looks like you’re okay as well.” Luke said as he recovered himself. The droid seemed not to notice his momentary distress and Luke focused on listening to the droid’s quick rendition of his time aboard the Executor. “They upgraded your software? That’s great. And you’ve been cleaned up, too.” 

Luke passed one hand over where carbon scoring used to be. Only the faintest trace remained. Suddenly Artoo caught sight of Vader. He gave a low moan and drew back a few inches as if to hide behind Luke. 

“Oh, Artoo, there’s no need to be afraid! Yes, it is Vader, but … take a closer look.”

Artoo gave a tentative beep then hoot and trundled forward again. Vader dropped down in front of the droid so that Artoo could scan his face. After a few seconds, the droid beeped ecstatically.

“It’s good to see you again as well, Artoo,” Vader said and patted the top of its dome. 

The droid gave out a long, complex combination of sounds, which Luke could only half understand without a translator unit, but Vader appeared to follow the droid’s questions easily.

“I didn’t die, despite what you may have heard. I am Vader now, Artoo. No longer …” Vader broke off and his eyes darted towards Luke. He held Luke’s gaze and the boy found himself holding his breath. “Not only Anakin.”

‘Father … thank you.’

Vader didn’t respond with words. There was just a wave of gentle warmth over their bond. ‘Does he really think of himself as Anakin or is he just saying this not to hurt me? Does it matter if he loves me just the same?’ Artoo made another few tentative, questioning hoots. Vader’s smile grew and he patted the top of Artoo’s dome again.

“Luke is my son.”

Artoo gave out a high-pitched beep of disbelief and a few hoots to explain why. Luke didn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed by Artoo’s reaction.