Taking the Throne

Secrets

Grandmother He reached out with his senses.

The sound of his heavy booted footsteps echoed upward into the vaulted ceiling. It was an immense room that was far bigger than the average tomb, a space for a Queen, adorned with glittering mosaics telling her, their, sad and tragic story.

The wound was still raw for the people of Naboo. Never had they lost someone so beloved, let alone in such a tragic way. Fresh flowers were replaced daily, as it was well known that Padme Amidala loved them. More than 50 years had passed, and the space venerating their beloved Queen remained pristine. Commissioned and completed on the grounds of the Riverland Palace, they had broken from the civic tradition of laying her to rest in the Capital, open for public visitation.

It was how she would have wanted it, as it was her last wish to have her baby there. Many believed it was yet another way to to hide the secret forbidden love responsible for bringing down the republic, but the truth was far more painful. The Riverland palace was the spot of their marriage vows, the place that she imagined raising their child, and the only truly peaceful and happy time they had ever known.

Grandfather. Had he ever been there? Was he responsible for this hidden relic? It seemed unlikely that a man so twisted from his pain and darkness would do something so sentimental. Closing his eyes and reaching out, Ben could feel that he had once been standing in the same spot, and digging deeper he revealed that the great Darth Vader had been here many times. The impression of his energy was still living on the surface, like he had intentionally bound himself to her memory, to her soul.

Unfolding the memories, he could see the tall black figure kneeing with his head bowed. He could feel the violent waves of loss and self hatred, and he could see the twisted motivation for being there; initially driven to visit out of love and longing, only to distort it to fuel his anger and dark power. Pain was all he had left.

Ben felt empathy for him, and longed to speak to him, but for some reason the force had shut off that connection. Instead, he spent years meditating on a melted helmet begging for guidance and answers, only to be met with silence. That mask represented the other great secret, revealed to him by accident, that Darth Vader was his grandfather. He had committed that exact moment to memory, as it was the first time he felt unashamed for the internal battle he had been waging, always, for as long as he could recall a sense of personal awareness.

Circumabulating the sarcophagus and letting his arm drag behind, he let his fingertips graze the carved stone, helping to commit the image to his memory. The rendering was petite, youthful, a small young woman with flowing curly hair surrounding her body like a halo. Hands overlapping, holding a small crude carving resembling a child's toy, it seemed odd for an image of high royalty to be depicted with something so beneath her status; but nothing about this memorial was typical. Intermittently stopping to evaluate, Ben was impressed; the sculptor was so skilled at capturing her beauty it was easy to forget it was just a fine piece of art, concealing within the stone depths a pile of dust.

Confused, he did not know why he was drawn to this place. After so many visits as a child, and now years spent on the planet he considered a second home, he had always resisted.

Wondering what she would have thought of him, he shook his shoulders, trying to brush off the encroaching thoughts of self hatred. There was something about her, a strange warmth and familiarity, that had kept him away; like she was speaking to him and saying things he was never ready to hear. If only he had opened up to it, his life might have been easier, but she was such a mystery to him. Even his mother had no personal recollection of her birth mother and could only tell him stories that had been passed on to her,instead relying on telling stories of her childhood on Alderaan.

Why are you speaking to me now? After all of this time? He thought to himself, turning toward the wall of glass that overlooked the lake and green mountains.