#heirite

❝  it’s late,  ❞  she looks up from the holopad before her on the table,  catching sight of her son’s slight and tired form as he emerges from the hall.  even in darkness she can see the shadows beneath his eyes,  the way his shoulders droop with growing up far too quickly.  her mouth sets in a line as she leans back in her seat,  a hand extended in invitation for ben to come sit with her.   ❝  what’s on your mind,  sweetheart ?  ❞

“No, Ben,”  He says it, he means it, but his tone isn’t passionate or aggressive.  It’s tired.  Sad.  Of all of the things Ben might feel about his mother’s death; this was the one Luke dreaded the most.  Dreaded, and expected.  To some extent, he was glad that Ben had finally told him.  On the other hand, he would have given anything for Ben to never feel this way to begin with.  But that wasn’t possible.  They were here now.   Whatever happened next, it started here. 

“No, it’s not your fault,” He says, reaching out to lay his hand on Ben’s shoulder, dropping down to one knee so that Ben doesn’t have to look up at him (it won’t be long before that won’t be a problem).  “Listen to me, Ben. . . Jacen --”  It’s hard to spit it out, he has to start again, try again.  “Jacen made his choices.  Whatever his reasons; good reasons, bad reasons, it doesn’t matter.  Jacen chose.  And he kept choosing.  Over and over and over again.  At any point, he could have made a different choice.  It would be hard.  Maybe it would hurt.  Maybe he wouldn’t be able to maintain it; maybe he’d fall back onto an old path.  But he chose. 

“And his choices lead him to that moment.  He chose in that moment.  There was nothing you could do.  Nothing you could do to sway him, to stop him, to . . .  to save her.   And that’s -- that’s hard.  It feels . . . desperate, and painful --”  Luke should know; he knows how it feels to be helpless.  He’s felt it time and time again; and even now is just . . . that all over again.  The most powerful Jedi living, Grand Master of a New Order -- and even he couldn’t save the woman he loved . . . 

“It’s terrible, Ben.  It’s kriffing terrible; and I’m so sorry that you have to know this feeling, that you have to live this.   But you didn’t chose this.  You didn’t -- “  He finds himself getting worked up, but slows his breathing, squeezing Ben’s shoulder and meeting his eyes -- his own blue eyes, looking out at him from under Mara’s red hair.  

                 𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑    𝐈𝐒    𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃.    long    live    the    emperor.    sanguine    rings    ‘round    golden    ochred    eyes    fade    in    their    ire    as    they    reflect    a    matched    set    with    the    sith    master    impaled    by    an    unretracted    crimson    blade.    the    singed    durasteel    &    fine    nabooan    silk    become    FOUL,    provoking    a    quick    silencing    of    the    hum    that    amplifies    the   stench.    fetters    break    &    an    arrogant    jedi    of    no    origin    to    speak    of    rejoices    somewhere    in    memory.    what    if    i    had    done    this    earlier    ?    sometime    when    i    once    promised    myself    to    fight    for    people    who    couldn’t    do    it    themselves    ...    sometime    during    a    war    when    they    suffered    the    most    ...    the    paths    not    taken    are    lost    to    a    desert    with    binary    suns    to    blind    him    from    finding    them    again.

                 vader    feels    another    set    of    eyes    on    him    through    the    veil    of    the    force.    a    translucent    figure    he    can    very    well    make    out    to    be    HUMAN,    but    far    enough    that    any    definition    of    identity    is    speculative.

                 his    voice    returns    to    form,    abraded    by    the    sand    &    refined    to    an    edge,    ❝    where    are    you   ?   ❞

@heirite | 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛

Ben.    His  name  is  Ben,  she  resolutely  tells  herself,  replacing  boy  with  something  real  as  the  call  comes,  heralding  a  complete  success.     A  smile  plasters  onto  her  lips,  but  there’s  no  joy  in  her  heart.     Only  ASHES.

                                            --------------------------

TO   BE   SUMMONED   by  the  admiral  only  an  hour  later  confuses  her,  something  in  her  mind  connecting  it  to  their  mission,  but  what  falls  from  his  lips  lays  outside  anything  she  could  imagine.     But  that  is  how  she  comes  to  stand  outside  a  door,  the  clanking  &&  clattering  of  the  durasteel  storm  within  easily  audible  in  the  corridor.     There’d  been  some  attempt  to  find  something  else  for  her  to  wear,  the  bridge  officers  fearing  Ben  was  simply  attacking  Imperials  after  being  separated  from  his  mother,  but  that’d  been  impossible.     She  doubts  that’s  all,  but  she  tied  her  flight  suit  sleeves  about  her  waist,  exposing  her  sleeveless  white  tunic,  as  a  concession. 

Standing  at  the  door,  her  hand  hovers  over  the  control  panel  when  something  tingles  in  her  mind.     It’s  dangerous,  risky,  but  was  it  anymore  than  every  time  she  calls  it  to  herself  in  battle?    Sucking  in  a  breath,  she  opens  her  fledgling  connection  to  the  Force,  keeping  it  carefully  shielded,  filling  it  with  love  &&  calm.     Then  finally,  she  presses  the  release,  opening  her  connection  to  the  boy  in  the  middle  of  the  room  as  she  steps  within.

Instantly,  the  atmosphere  shifts,  debris  settling  to  the  floor.    Withholding  a  gasp  as  she  finally  clearly  sees  Ben,  peering  up  at  her  with  tearful,  huge  blue  eyes,  is  impossible.     ( he’s so young... && so small. there’s a flash of an even tinier, younger girl, equally alone. )     Jaina  falls  to  her  knees  as  the  little  boy  runs  to  her,  instinctually  wrapping  the  sobbing  child  in  her  arms.     Heart  aching  with  the  pain  she  senses,  &&  more  than  a  little  within,  she  presses  her  face  into  his  flame  hued  hair,  throat  tightening  about  a  lump,  voice  only  a  whisper.          ❝  I’m  sorry,  little  one.     I’m  so  sorry.  ❞

“Say ‘hello’, Ben.” Luke prompts to the child in his arms, but for all his encouragement, Ben’s shyness doesn’t seem to be budging.  He’d been passed off to his father when Mara received a holocall from Jaina needing assistance in the Outer Rim, and while Ben had -- of course -- been thoroughly upset with her leaving, he and dad were making a fine time of a having a boys’ weekend on Yavin IV.  

He can see he’s not going to have any success getting Ben to open up and shrugs to the student with an apologetic smile.  

“It’s raining,” He tells his son after a moment’s pause, listening to the rain drops on the old stone temple roofs.  “You know, I didn’t know what rain was until I was much much bigger than you are.” He adds, tenderly brushing red hair off the boy’s forehead.  

TRANSMISSION : ❝ i don’t accept that . ❞ SIGNAL FROM : BEN ( @heirite​ )

𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚂 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽 𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙳, ( 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝙱𝙴𝙽 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙻 ? ) 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝚂 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙻𝙸𝙲𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙸𝙼. ❝ It doesn’t MATTER what you accept Ben, it’s the FACTS. The Republic is GONE, the First Order is the future for the galaxy. If you’re smart you’ll join it -- join ME. I can TEACH YOU, together we could take on the entire GALAXY.  ❞ He doesn’t disengage his saber, or drop his stance but he holds out his hand to Ben urging him to take it. He NEEDS this--NEEDS Ben to believe him --IN HIM-- to stand by him as he feels himself CRUMBLING under the weight of his own actions. That He-- He actually-- He--