#dumping ground

Caine & Monika

𝑀𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ

𝑊𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑙

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙

𝐼𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑗𝑎𝑤

𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑦

𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡

𝐼𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ?

𝑆𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑠

𝐼 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡'𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ

“You can’t do this!” The beautiful chandelier overhead sparkled with the lights from the traffic lights beyond the windows, perfectly illuminating Luke Lars’ aghast expression. 

“Of course, I can.” Empress Amidala settled her hands on her lap, watching Luke closely. Beside her, Lord Vader in all of his Sithly glory, watched the scene in silence. 

“You can’t! I’m a rebel! You know that I’m a rebel! I’m not going to be..to be...your son because you’re...insane!” He waved his arms wildly, gesturing to the parlor room in the Imperial Palace, and then to his rebel fatigues. Three weeks in prison meant he smell rank, it was dropping on his frame, but the orange was as bright as ever. 

“Do not speak to your mother in such a tone,” Vader ordered, and Luke glared at him. 

“She is not my mother!” Luke exclaimed, almost yanking on his hair as he stared at the Imperial couple. “I would rather be publicly executed! I won’t be paraded around like I’ve been brainwashed into being an obedient pet!” 

“You aren’t a pet, my dear,” Empress Amidala told him softly, “you will be our son, legal adoption considering you are only 16.” 

“I’m too old to adopt!” He cried, stoically ignoring the plate of treats on the table. It was right beside a pot of tea that smell an awful lot like his favorite tea. “I’m a rebel. Your Empire had murdered my friends and my family. I hate you!” 

She was unmoved, and surveyed him much more calmly than Luke would have credited her for. “The rebellion is upsetting the balance of the galaxy, my son.” She held up a hand to forestall his complaints. “You are their star pupil, their hotshot pilot, and their young Jedi.” 

“Vader kills Jedi,” Luke ground out. 

“He will not kill you,” Amidala assured him. “What we need now, young man, is peace. The galaxy has known too much war, too much pain, too much suffering. I will show the rebellion that I can be forgiving and patient with even a mortal enemy, then.” 

“No,” Luke ground out. “I am a Jedi. I am a rebel. I.” 

“Where would you go?” Empress Amidala asked patiently, and Luke felt his heart freeze. “You are infamous. No one will hide you. The rebellion now thinks that you Imperial sympathies and you have no family.” 

“I!” Luke tried not to think of his parents, Beru and Owen Lars. “Your Empire killed them!”