Work Header

The Tale of the Skywalkers

Work Text:

In the days of the Jedi Temple there were many prophecies made and wise speakers giving visions of the future. Qui-Gon Jinn knelt before the flowers that adorned a gate and spoke, "Here shall stand a knight like none other who has come before, and he will wield a weapon that has endured drought and fire." But he said, "But before that day shall come there shall be woe and lamentation, for our fellowship shall be sundered in blood and treachery." And the Jedi made moan over his words, yet they also found them folly. For had their Order not endured great struggles and divisions in the centuries that had passed? And had they not emerged, united, after each wound?

Now it says in the book of the Clones, Anakin Skywalker was a knight of brilliance and of courage, and he soared through the air within a pod with great skill and speed. In the tournaments he won many medals for his jousting, and all who knew him accounted him steadfast in his duty. So when word came to the Temple that the beautiful Queen Amidala of Naboo lay tormented by scoundrels and assassins, Skywalker valiantly came to her aid. He slew the brigands who threatened her and her people, and in his rage cut down the mighty Count who sought to do evil deeds with his power.

"Fair knight," said the queen, "I would you stand beside me, that I might award you as is fit."

Then Anakin's heart was laid low, for he was greatly desirous of the queen. Yet he had sworn an oath never to cherish or pledge his troth to one above all others, for this was the custom and safeguard of the Jedi.

But Padmé, who was wise in the spirit, could see his affliction even without the power of the Force. "Good sir," she pressed, "what does you ill?"

"Alas!" he exclaimed. "For you are the servant of your people, even as I am the servant of my brothers, and never can we be united as my body wishes. Yet be not afraid, for I shall love you from afar, and serve the people of Naboo each day of my life."

"Do not atone for sins you have not committed," said Padmé. "For I am unwed, and who is to speak against me, once a queen, for adoring you as we both wish? Let us be wed, and woe to any man who would speak ill of it."

Then they were wed by the lakes of Naboo, and Anakin with great joy went to Padmé his wife. And he begat her two children, a son and a daughter, both who burned with the Force.

In the nineteenth year of the Empire's strength, a hermit from the sands of Tatooine, Ben Kenobi, was made known of the Princess Leia of Alderaan. She had been captured and taken into a mighty fortress of the Empire, so vast that it resembled a new moon in the sky. "Let us make haste," said the hermit, "for this is wickedness we shall not abide."

So he took with him a young man, Luke his name, from the water farms of Tatooine, across the Jundland Sea. Luke's heart was stirred by the quest, though Ben urged him counsel. "For great are the dangers and traps of the Emperor, and worse still is the lure of the Dark Side."

Ben gave to Luke the sword that had once been that of Anakin Skywalker, with which he slew the Count of Dooku, and with which he wrought pain and suffering on the Younglings of the Temple, and that he lost in the flames of Mustafar. "This is the blade of a time of righteousness and beauty," said Ben. "Yet trust not in its strength alone, for the Force is your truest ally."

Then Luke boldly ventured into the dungeons of the fortress, for he knew well that the Princess Leia was imprisoned within. He put on a mask so she knew not who she was, save that he was called, "the knight of little stature." And Leia led their company into a pit full of refuse and waste, and there were they nearly devoured by a mighty water beast, yet they made a plea and called upon their comrade the droid R2-D2, and he intervened to spare their lives.

But Ben confronted Darth Vader, who wore a mask and a shield and armor all of the darkest black, and struck with a sword that was blood-red, even as the Sith did in secret. Vader slew Ben the hermit, and Luke made lamentation for him even as he fled the dread moon.

Now many of the Jedi of old had perished, and become one with the Force. But some had learned the secret of speaking within the galaxy, and of casting shadows to be beheld by the living. Obi-Wan was such a knight, and Yoda. And they looked upon Luke with fear and wonder.

For such was his purity and strength, that he had hopes surpassing even those of his teachers. And they were this: that by his goodness he might transform the heart of Darth Vader, and turn him again to the ways of justice and mercy.

"It is folly," murmured Obi-Wan in his spirit, "for the Dark Side is as a whirlpool that dashes to pieces everyone in its grasp. You can no more rise up from it than you can overcome gravity."

"Do we not have hyperspace engines which do just this?" Luke asked. "Yes, and more diverse wonders besides."

"Be not hasty," counseled Yoda. "It may be that we shall place our hopes in another. Even Princess Leia has the power and wisdom of a true knight."

"That may be," said Obi-Wan.

Yet it was they who realized their error, for Luke entered the castle of the cruel Emperor as one who had no fear of death. For he knew the Force was his true ally, and he would endure in it in death as in life. There the Emperor tormented him with bursts of lightning. In his agony Luke cried out to his father, and Anakin's heart was pierced. Then did Darth Vader become Anakin Skywalker once more, and cast the Emperor into a dark abyss, from which he did not return.

Luke wept to see his father near death, but Anakin bade him go and be reunited with his sister the princess, and with their faithful companions. And ever after, it is said, he abided near him in the Force.

Now many are the histories that speak of the further deeds of Luke Skywalker, some how he journeyed to the ancient temple with Leia his sister, and thus fulfilled the words of Qui-Gon Jinn. And some say that he journeyed into exile, to contemplate the Force in chastity, and was most wickedly slain by his treacherous nephew. But I your poor author am in the grip of a terrible pain in the head, and shall not contemplate the histories more at this juncture.