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Fairytales

by Dangermousie

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Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit, don't sue.
Summary: His life is a fairytale they tell children.

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His life is a fairytale they tell children.

His story is that of contrasts, of hopes met, expectations fulfilled. The proof that the world is just.

He was a child who had destroyed an armada. A slave who married a queen. The oldest pupil the Jedi have ever taken, but who became the greatest hero of them all.

“You too can be like Anakin Skywalker,” parents repeat to their children. Or “do you think Anakin would be afraid of the dark?” The children drink it in, wide-eyed. Some of them dream of meeting him, someday. They want to fight by his side and save the world. They don't realize there is no world to save. Not for him.

The fairytale is simple, and clean, and sane. It is pure like a child drawing is pure: all straight lines and colors a bit too bright. There is no pain, no anger, no fear. No loss so complete it cleaves the Universe in two: the before, when life had meaning, and the after when there was nothing, not even the void.

In the fairytale, Shmi’s blood does not seep through his fingers. The Tusken village lives on undisturbed. Qui-Gon travels through space with his gentle smile, and Obi-Wan is proud of his padawan. There is no friendship betrayed, no freedom collapsing, no trust unkept. Padme is dressed in spring and he’s protected her from everyone, even himself.

In the fairytale, the child hero who has always finished his meals and always, always listened to his parents, rides off into the sunsets of a thousand suns, his Queen and his Jedi sword at his side.

Slave hero, Jedi Knight, Husband of Padme Amidala, Lord of the Sith. Darth Vader steps forward, imprisoned in his armor. The fairytales are done.

 

End.

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