Chapter Text
“I’m pretty sure this is the weirdest timeline.”
Luke laughed as Leia straightened out his collar. “I’m pretty sure it’s the best timeline. Why do you say that?”
Leia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Let’s list, shall we?” She began counting on her fingers. “My brother is a therapist for Darth Vader, who happens to be his father. Somehow, the therapy worked, and now Darth Kriffing Vader is an Emperor working to restore democracy. And! He got that job because the Emperor… accidentally” she said that word with air quotes, “blew up and was shot. Numerous times. By the Executor’s guns. Not because Darth Vader ordered it, but because his crew loved their therapist so much that they wanted to protect him. But we leave that part out, even though I’m pretty sure the majority of the galaxy doesn’t buy the accident story one bit.”
But they were sticking to the story anyway. The real one was too bizarre, and Vader would never try his crew for treason, which was what the moffs who’d gained favor with the previous Emperor would have wanted. So, after Vader’s initial announcement to the galaxy, he tried to stick Piett in front of the reporters to do PR control. Except, this time, Piett pushed back, pointing out that he wasn’t a qualified PR employee, and considering the gravity of the situation, it made more sense to hire one, which Vader did. Luke was quite proud of Piett for pushing back and not taking on work he wasn’t qualified to do just because Vader liked him.
“That’s a them problem.” Luke replied coolly, turning to face himself in the mirror. He looked every inch the Imperial Prince. For once, wearing a black and silver tunic with a matching one-shoulder half-cape, he thought he actually looked the part of Darth Vader’s son–or as much as he possibly could. Which was exactly the point, considering he would be announcing his true identity during the coronation. He was grateful Leia had agreed to help him with his speech, because every time he attempted to write it, he couldn’t stop imagining bad reactions and it gave him quite a bit of anxiety.
“To add to that,” Leia continued, “Obi-Wan and Vader are actually on speaking terms, which is…an experience, let me tell you, and somehow Vader agreed not to force me to admit to the galaxy that I’m…that I’m your twin so that I can be the representative between him and the newly formed Senate without any issues…which he also immediately reinstated.”
Luke couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t forget he let you blow up the Second Death star that the late Emperor was working on.”
Leia made a face. “I feel like he could have mentioned that sooner, like as a trade for you when you were with us.”
“Kidnapped.”
“Whatever.”
“At the time he wasn’t ready to play his hand against the Emperor, and handing over an unfinished super weapon would definitely be a big red flag that he was about to commit treason. Besides, the thing didn’t even work…but I can see why you’d feel that way. At least you got to blow it up.”
“I got to blow up the first one, too…though I guess it was nice not to have people trying to shoot me down while I was doing it, and it was evacuated.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt.” He took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror. “Well. This is it.”
Leia nodded. “This is it…I can’t believe it, but here we are. You don’t think Vader will change his mind and restart this whole conflict, do you?”
“No. I don’t.” He told her for the thousandth time. He was glad that she’d signed up for a therapist–his poor sister had so much trauma and trust issues after everything that had happened to her, she deserved the peace and ability to process and work through everything with someone qualified. He knew Vader hoped that one day she’d want a relationship with him, but he had been working with Vader to accept that she might never want that, even with therapy of her own. Still, involving her in the new democratic government without revealing her familial identity (and also blowing up a super weapon for good catharsis) was a pretty good start to a new beginning for them.
She met his gaze for a long moment, searching for any hint of doubt, before letting out a sigh. “You haven’t been wrong yet. I guess I’ll trust you.”
“Thanks. Now, let’s get going.”
They made their way to the throne room. When Vader had first brought him to the palace, he told him that the palace was actually the remodeled Jedi temple. He’d asked him if that was triggering for him–after all, it wasn’t like they couldn’t move if it caused him any undue stress, but Vader had simply shrugged and said, “The Jedi temple was built on top of a Sith temple. I would not be surprised if it is one day turned back into a Jedi temple. It is apparently a cycle. We will not be here forever.”
Luke wasn’t sure that really answered the question, but his father didn’t seem particularly agitated when they were in the palace, so he supposed it was a non-issue. Still, compared to his home on Tatooine, the palace was uncomfortably big. They’d even invited his aunt and uncle to come to Vader’s coronation, and when they’d arrived (partly to support Vader, but mostly to support Luke’s appointment as heir), their jaws had almost hit the floor. Owen in particular seemed uncomfortable with the size and the luxuries that came with the palace, but Luke could tell that he was doing his best to not get annoyed.
In fact, when he entered the throne room, where all of the most important people in the entire galaxy were, they were the easiest people to spot. Even dressed in Coruscant’s finest attire, they still seemed to stick out. It didn’t help that Vader insisted that they be on the front row so they could sit with Luke while Vader was officially crowned. The rest of the crowd consisted of mostly Vader’s most trusted people, including Piett, Veers, and a significant portion of the Executor’s crew. There were a few moffs, the ones Vader thought he could win over, if he hadn’t done so already, and the other side of the room was taken up by important members of Rebel Command and the new senate–new allies to the transitioning Empire.
Up at the dais of the throne room was Vader, already sitting on the throne. When Luke entered, he felt Vader’s entire attention go straight to him and Leia. He’d gotten a few quick lessons from both Vader and Obi-Wan regarding the Force, so he was learning to recognize changes in attention and mood, which ended up being extremely helpful during therapy sessions…or in this case, being more consciously aware of his father.
Luke gave him a reassuring smile, then moved to sit with Owen and Beru on the Imperial side of the room, while Leia broke away to sit with Obi-Wan on the ‘democratic’ side of the room. He tried not to notice the empty smaller throne to Vader’s right, lower and not as prominent, but there all the same, specifically set up that way so as to remind the galaxy that he was Vader’s heir, but not so powerful that he needed to be directly at his father’s right hand, like Vader said he used to position himself as the Emperor’s apprentice. Luke didn’t want a throne at all, but he could kind of see his father’s point in having one physically there as a reminder that he at least existed.
It didn’t mean he had to like it, though.
Beside him, as if sensing his nervousness, Beru reached over and clasped his hand in hers, giving him a squeeze. It helped, even if only a little.
You will do well.
Vader’s voice in his head was not unexpected. He’d been practicing communicating with his father recently, but it was still weird to hear someone else’s voice in his head.
It took him a moment to concentrate enough to respond. Thanks. I know you’ll do great, too. He paused. I know I’ve told you before, but I’m proud of you.
You have told me numerous times. Vader sounded amused in his mind.
And I’ll tell you a million more. Especially since positive reinforcement was Vader’s strongest motivator, beyond familial ones. His star board was now bursting with stars. Cyl was using the free time during the ceremony to go get a bigger star board for him.
The ambient music changed into the more commanding Imperial theme, signaling the ceremony was officially starting. It was quite literally the fanciest part of the ceremony, since Vader wanted the whole thing done with as quickly as possible. Luke hadn’t argued, and in the moment, he was grateful that his father was so to the point.
Vader stood, and began to address the crowd and the rest of the galaxy watching from a streamed holoreport from the few reporters Vader had allowed into the ceremony.
“This ceremony is a formality, as I, being Emperor Palpatine’s heir, have already assumed the throne in his place after his…unfortunate and sudden demise.” He barely sounded like he thought it was actually unfortunate. “This ceremony marks less the beginning of my reign, and more the beginning of the galaxy’s future. By reinstating the Senate, I have made it clear that I am supporting a form of democratic government, and as they gain more control, my rule as Emperor will fade. I will be the second and last galactic Emperor.” He paused, in what the crowd probably thought was dramatic effect, but what was really nervous anticipation. Luke felt it, different from his own. His father would never admit it, but it was there. “To explain this decision, I have decided it is necessary to explain the truth of the origins of the Empire, starting with my own history.
“My true name is Anakin Skywalker, and I was once a Jedi.”
This was the part of the speech Luke had helped him with. He’d even reviewed it with Leia to ensure it met the proper political tone, which…had been an experience, because in it, Vader detailed almost everything to varying degrees of detail. He went over his origins (with very little detail), he talked about his apprenticeship, how the Emperor, then the Chancellor, used his power to groom him. He talked about his exploits as a Jedi and how he’d married in secret (he didn’t reveal Padme’s name, because apparently, Padme still had relatives alive, and finding out via Emperor’s speech was probably not a great way to tell the inlaws that they were, in fact, in laws to begin with). He told of his fall, of some of the terrible deeds the Emperor had done, with his support. But then he talked about being forced into therapy and having to confront what he’d become, and how it made him realize just how thoroughly he and everyone had been manipulated.
“We must dismantle the system of government that allows for entire planets to be blown up with little justice for those who committed the atrocity. We must provide widespread mental health services to prevent people from suffering. We need laws that will strengthen our systems of government to prevent this from happening in the future.” Vader paused, and this time it was for dramatic effect, because Luke could feel Vader’s excitement as he announced, “And to help me bring this future to fruition is my son and heir, Luke Skywalker, better known as Luke Lars, my therapist.”
The shock and surprise that hit almost everyone in that room was so strong, Luke physically winced. Beside him, Beru gave his hand another reassuring squeeze before whispering, “You’ll do great.” He gave her a shaky smile as he stood and moved to take his father’s place to address the entire galaxy.
He tried not to look at the shocked faces of the people who knew him and didn’t know he was Vader’s son. He looked to Leia and Obi-Wan, to his aunt and uncle, and to Veers and Piett, the latter of which gave him a thumbs up in encouragement.
“My name is Luke Lars. My history is…complicated, to say the least.” He began. Each word he spoke sounded more confident than the last. Rehearing it with Leia, Veers and Piett seemed to have helped. “Shortly after my birth, I was given to my aunt and uncle. We were not told of what had become of my father, and therefore I knew very little of my family history until recently, when I was assigned to Lord Vader and we figured out through our sessions that there was too much shared family history to be ignored. To be clear, I did not know until partway through my stay on the Executor that I was related to my client, and when I found out, circumstances were such that I could not find another therapist to take my place.”
Nor would Vader have let him, but he didn’t mention that.
“To any of my other clients, I want to assure you that I have maintained professionalism and never revealed any of your names or confidential information to anyone, let alone Emperor Vader. Finding out that I am Emperor Vader’s son has never impacted how I view or have treated you, but if you are concerned, I am open to discussing in further detail at a later date. For now, I would like to address the galaxy as a whole.
“Serving on the Executor, then later kind of serving the Rebellion while I was kidnaped by them, has shown me that the galaxy is in dire need of good mental health services. Seeing a professional for your mental health should not have a stigma. It does not make you weak. When people go to a doctor to heal their physical bodies, it’s often viewed as a necessity that’s part of life. In a healthy society, mental health services should be treated the same way. My…experiences have shown me that as a galaxy, we are not a healthy society. Our advancements in medial services are unparalleled, but when I was trying to set up mental health services for newly freed slaves, it was a far more difficult endeavor either because the planet had no services, very few services, or, to be frank, terrible service. Mid-Rim and Core worlds are somewhat better off, but the late Emperor didn’t even know there was a mental health school in the military academy. My school’s graduating class was ten. Ten. Stars, technically I should have more schooling than I currently do to be able to do this job!
“With that background in mind, I would like to detail my plan for increasing and improving mental health services across the galaxy.”
And he dove in. He explained providing affordable education and expanded scholarship opportunities. He detailed expanding schooling to require additional years to become a therapist, and how those currently in the profession would be awarded by updating their schooling (he made a point to let people know he, too, would be getting more education). He talked about opening funded clinics, focusing in areas hardest hit by both the Clone Wars and the Galactic Civil War before expanding to other portions of the galaxy. He detailed how he would make therapy affordable, if not virtually free, to those who needed it.
“Perhaps this isn’t a particularly flashy plan,” He admitted when he finished, “but it’s vitally important. I did not grow up in the Imperial Center. I never went to any fancy schools, or had lessons on etiquette and politics drilled into me. I became a therapist because I wanted to help people, and if I’m to be the son of the Emperor, I want to use that privilege and position to help the people of the galaxy.”
When he finished, it was Piett, Veers, and anyone else there from the Executor’s crew that began clapping loudly in approval. To his relief, from the looks on the faces of some of his clients, they didn’t appear angry that he hadn’t said anything about his parentage, even if they were shocked by it. Perhaps it only justified their decision to kill Palpatine, like it had done for Veers and Piett, or perhaps they liked him too much to be angry. Perhaps it was both.
This time when he sat down, it was in the throne his father had appointed for him, and he felt his father’s presence brush against his mind in approval. He flushed with happiness even as he tried to maintain a straight face.
When the ceremony was over, he was immediately swamped with people. A few were reporters, asking questions about the scandal that was his kidnapping from his father (which he promptly ignored. He had no desire to become more of a media spectacle than he already was), but mostly they were people from the Executor.
“Don’t you worry, Luk–uh, your highness, I’m not worried that you’re the Emperor’s son. I wish you’d told us sooner so we could have protected you better!” One officer said. Luke thanked him and quickly requested that he not call him highness outside of formal functions.
“I can’t believe we thought you didn’t have any rank!” Another officer said, laughing as he clapped Luke on the back, “Turns out you outranked almost everyone in the military!”
“That was very well done, your highness,” Piett said when Luke found him, “your father appears quite proud of you.”
Luke frowned. “How can you tell?”
“I do not need the Force to interpret the Emperor’s moods.” He gave him a tired smile. “He carries all of his emotions in the set of his shoulders. If he’s clenching his fists that’s also not a good sign.”
That was so specific, but he supposed there was a reason Piett had survived in his position as long as he had. “Thanks. I’m pretty sure now that my identity is out, you’re going to get a medal for saving my life.”
Piett made a face. “Please don’t remind the Emperor about that…or if he does remember, maybe you could convince him to send the medal in the mail?”
Luke snickered. “I’m pretty sure a mail-order-medal ceremony won’t be sufficient for his favorite employee.”
He sighed. “You’re probably right. I suppose I should prepare for that eventuality.”
When Luke ran into Veers, he was with his son, Zev.
“I can’t believe you…” Zev paused, glancing around, then leaned into whisper what Luke was pretty sure was murdered the Emperor. “I’m pretty sure that makes you more of a Rebel than I ever have been.”
Veers appeared a bit offended. “I am not. I served our current Emperor and his son. That is the very definition of patriotism.”
“Alright, you two, remember the techniques we discussed. You’re about to see a lot more of each other, so it’s in your best interest to try to get along.” Luke grinned. “You’re taking next weekend off to go fishing together, right?”
Zev and Veers glanced at each other, then away. “Yeah…it’ll be, uh, interesting.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing about it when you return. I hope you two have fun. And thanks for letting me practice my speech with you, General, I think it helped my confidence a lot up there.”
“You didn’t look nervous at all. You’re a natural.” Veers assured him.
Luke was certain he was not a natural, especially given that his sister absolutely was the natural speaker in the family, but he didn’t correct him and simply accepted the compliment.
It was his sister who found him next. In her company was a man who also looked out of place despite wearing formal attire. “Ah, Luke. I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Han Solo.”
Han stuck out a hand, and when Luke took it, he was surprised by how firm the grip was.
“I’ve heard all about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Han said, glancing around, “Though, I should say I wasn’t expecting to meet you here, of all places.”
Luke was a bit of a loss for words. Leia had never mentioned having a boyfriend, though now that Han introduced himself, he thought he recalled seeing the man’s name on the list of most wanted Rebels. Wasn’t he a smuggler?
Leia seemed to pick up on his thoughts. “I usually keep work and relationships separate, and when you were with us, I was a bit preoccupied. It didn’t seem like the right time to introduce you two.”
“That probably wasn’t a bad decision,” Luke said mildly. “Does…how public is your relationship?”
Leia knew exactly what he meant. “It’s common knowledge in the Rebellion. I’m sure a certain Sith Lord will hear about it eventually, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have any say over my decisions.”
“Sure, but…you know…” he trailed off. Already he was trying to figure out how to best prepare his father for this bombshell without giving things away.
“Well, whenever he finds out, I hope I’m off planet for it. The guy’s already tortured me once.” Han shuddered.
“Yes, that does make things rather awkward.” Luke admitted. “You know, if you’d like to talk about it…”
“Oh no, I’m not interested in a shrink, thank you very much. I got enough going on as it is.”
Luke lifted a brow at the quick refusal. “Alright. I just thought I’d offer resources if you needed it. Torture is a pretty traumatic thing to go through, I just wanted to be helpful.”
Han seemed to relax a bit at those words. “Yeah. I know. Sorry. If I change my mind, I’ll know who to ask.”
He decided not to unpack that and simply accepted the apology. “Maybe the three of us can meet up later and hang out?”
Leia smiled, and it was a rare moment when she didn’t look like she was stressing out over something. “Sure. That sounds like a lot of fun.” But then she gave Han a warning look. “But no sabaac.”
“Aw, come on, I bet the kid would do great at it! Give me a run for my money!”
“You are not going to swindle my…friend.” She glanced around to make sure no one noticed her slip up, but honestly, Luke doubted anyone would guess that she’d been about to call him, the son of Darth Vader, her brother.
There were numerous other people he ran into, mostly either important Rebellion members, who he hadn’t worked much with before, such as Mon Mothma, or Imperials, such as moffs, most of whom immediately gave him the impression that they were already plotting how to manipulate him to get what they wanted. Those conversations he quickly exited–he wasn’t there to play politician. That was Leia’s and his father’s job.
He found his aunt and uncle talking, surprisingly, to Obi-Wan. When he approached, his aunt broke away to give him a hug.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said as she pulled away, “though I admit, this isn’t at all where I thought you’d be when we sent you off to school.”
He definitely had to agree. “Thanks Beru.” He glanced at his uncle and Obi-Wan. “They’re talking?”
“And not at each other's throats? Mostly. Your father wants to give us a medal for raising you, and your Uncle is trying to get Obi-Wan to talk him out of it.”
Your father. Despite how crazy his life had become, it felt good to finally speak about Vader as his father so openly. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that.
“Ah.” Luke tried to hide his smile and failed miserably. “My father is legitimately grateful to you both for raising me and keeping me safe, and I’m not sure he knows how else to reward you both since you rejected a credit payment.”
“We didn’t raise you for any kind of reward beyond having you in our lives. Besides, you know your uncle…he likes to keep to himself and all of this attention on a planet so far away from the farm is uncomfortable.”
“I get it. If I had to guess, my father may also be trying to reward people the way he likes to be awarded.” Except instead of gold stars, he was giving away medals to people he thought deserved them. “I’ll talk to him, though. You may want to tell Uncle Owen to talk to Admiral Piett, though…if there’s anyone my father listens to almost as much as he listens to me, it’s the Admiral.”
“I’ll pass on the tip.” Beru smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. “Speaking of your father, he was looking for you. He said he’d be out on the balcony waiting.”
Something eased in Luke’s chest. It was strange how just knowing his father was nearby, waiting for him, could set him at ease. “Thanks. I’ll go find him.” He leaned down and planted a tender kiss on her forehead and headed off to go find his father.
He found him exactly where Beru said he’d be, and somehow, he was alone.
“Are you hiding from everyone or is everyone hiding from you?” Luke teased as he joined him, leaning against the stone rail. The entirety of Coruscant was before them, and though the city planet seemed too loud for him, it didn’t seem to bother Vader in the slightest. Still, Luke had to admit, the planet had its own beauty to it.
“I would not call what I am doing hiding. I simply wished to speak with you alone, and I may have threatened a few people to keep them from following me out here to discuss idiotic politics.”
“So, both, then?”
Vader tilted his head. “Both.”
Luke grinned. “Well, I’m not complaining, but my Uncle Owen is definitely complaining about an apparent medal you’re giving him for raising me?”
“I thought it would be positive reinforcement for how he raised you.”
So he was right. “Not everyone responds well to the same type of reward system. If you really want to thank him beyond just telling him thank you, you could just give him some new droids to help with the farm. It’s not public, it’s not a massive amount of money, and it’s helpful to his livelihood, which is super important to him.”
Vader considered it for a moment. “So, he does not wish for a medal that says Galaxy’s Best Guardian on it?”
Luke almost choked. He hadn’t realized Vader had personalized the medals. Did that mean that, if Piett got one, it would also be personalized? What would Vader personalize for his favorite Admiral? There were so many possibilities, all of them ridiculous, that it was a long moment before Luke got control of himself. “I, uh, think he’d prefer the droid.”
“Hm. Then I will amend my orders.” Luke was still imagining how whatever department that made medals reacted to such a commission when Vader said, “I actually have something for you, too?”
“Is it a Galaxy’s Best Son medal?”
“No, but it’s not too late to change my order to create that.”
“If I get to request, I think Galaxy’s Best Therapist would look really nice in my office.”
“I will put Galaxy’s Best Son on one side and Galaxy’s Best Therapist on the other. Both are true.”
Luke laughed, even as he felt his face glowing red from the praise. “I’ll look for the perfect spot to put it.”
Vader, surprisingly, reached up to ruffle his hair. “No, for now, I have a different gift for you, one that I think you will find useful.”
He lifted a brow curiously. “Oh?”
Vader’s other hand lifted, and there was a plain, simple rectangular box in his hand. Luke tried to wrack his brain for anything he could possibly need in such a small box, but came up with nothing, so he took it wordlessly.
When he opened it, tears sprang to his eyes.
They were business cards.
But not just any business cards on rather expensive flimsi.
Luke Skywalker
Imperial Heir to the Throne
Galactic Head of Therapy and Mental Health Services
Jedi and Sith Mental Health Specialist
His contact information was on the back, but it was the name that Luke focused on.
His name. Skywalker. The name he’d wanted to use for years.
“I was informed that you submitted a name change application,” Vader explained, “I had it expedited and had these created for you, since I noticed you liked using flimsi business cards on the Executor.”
Luke was so overwhelmed with emotions, his throat was too tight to speak. Name changes, he’d been told when he submitted the application, could take a month or more, especially considering the new regime change. All of the Imperial Departments had been backed up. But, more than that, he hadn’t realized how much Vader had noticed about him. It was so easy to assume Vader ignored small details like that, and if he’d been anyone else, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed. But he had, because he was his son, and while he wasn’t overly verbal about how he felt about Luke, this gesture told him everything he needed to know about how his father felt about him.
“It is not the grandest gesture, but–”
Luke threw his arms around his father, not caring that there were plenty of witnesses to see it (in fact, he was pretty sure he felt the shock of anyone who happened to look out and see, and he heard what sounded like a wine glass shattering on the floor).
“It’s perfect,” Luke said, pulling away to look up at him. His father hadn’t tensed from the physical touch, but it wasn’t the most professional thing to do in public, considering who Vader was to the galaxy.
But Vader didn’t seem bothered. Rather, Luke got the sense that he’d sensed his uncontainable joy at finally having the identity he wanted, the one that connected him so officially to his father and his family. To have it in print, where he could look at it and hand it out and say, This is me, this is my name, this is who I am and not have anything to hide…
Vader grasped his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. If Luke wasn’t mistaken, he was pleased that Luke felt so strongly about it. To spend over twenty years being manipulated and alone, and to finally have his children, and a son who so obviously cared about him in every possible way…Well. Vader was better at hiding his emotions, but for Luke, he let him see that freely.
Oh, how his father had changed since the moment he’d arrived on the Executor. Oh, how he’d changed. There were still so many things about the future that would be difficult, things that, when Luke thought too hard about it, scared him, but they’d get through it. He and his father.
Together.
“I think…I think I too will reclaim my identity.” Vader…no, Anakin Skywalker, said.
The smile Luke gave him was blinding. “If you want, I can get you new business cards, too. They'll say, Anakin Skywalker. Emperor of the Galaxy. Master of the Force, both Light and Dark." He paused, "Galaxy’s Best Father.”
Anakin’s grip on his shoulder tightened a bit, and though Luke couldn’t see his father’s face, he had the sense that he, too, was giving him a rare smile.
“I like the sound of that.”