From a story called Ash and Ember, as of yet unpublished, but will definitely be my darkest – and possibly most ambitious – piece so far. lots of good skywalker angst to be found in this one hehe.
For the entirety of his existence, Darth Vader had been
intimately familiar with pain. It was what fueled his very being, fed his
hatred and stoked his connection to the Dark Side. He was in pain now, as he’d
So why was this pain so different?
It was, in a sense, familiar, but connected to a distant,
rejected part of himself. It dug deeper than the scarring that coated what
remained of his flesh and it hurt far more profoundly. It reminded him of a
woman who lay broken in his arms, whispering assurances to him even as the life
drained from her eyes. It reminded him of a vast, sprawling emptiness scorched
beneath two suns. It reminded him of a woman collapsing onto the rocks as
boiling lakes of molten rock swirled around them. This was a pain he did not
want but was uncertain how to stop.
The boy was screaming. His son was screaming. All around him, the Force was screaming.