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Concept Artwork from CW Season 2 |
WALLPAPER |
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"Destroy Malevolence" Challenge Winner by 04nbod |
FAN ART
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by rinabina |
FAN FICTION
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Anniversaries of the Heart, by Rhonderoo. (ROTJ with PT-era flashbacks.) A curious servant in Lord Vader's castle begins to uncover pieces of his secret past. |
P/A SITE
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FORUM
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CHALLENGE
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TAG-BOARD |
FAN FICTION
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Still
by chopsticks
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything affiliated with it. It is all the property of George Lucas. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Author's Note: Playing with the writing style again, this time a little less obviously.
Summary: Standing before her grave, a man will crumble and a machine will rise.
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I want to be still;
I want to walk into your grave,
Where I can shelter in peace
Until all our cares have blown away.
-Nothing At All by Rob Dougan
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He stands there, the wind blowing across him, sweeping his hair (cape) away from him. The night, in its perpetual darkness, swallows him whole, obscuring him from the outside world. He does not mind, nor feel suffocated, his breathing remaining constant and even (regulated) and his breath swirling around him in a fog.
It is chilly this night on Naboo, and he thinks it proper. The warmth (light) is gone, and all he is left with is the cold (dark). The cold, if he is not careful, could slow his bodily functions, but he does not (doesn't need to) fear this.
Anakin Skywalker is still.
He is still at the grave of his beautiful wife (enemy). The woman he loved (killed). Loves.
He still loves her. The feeling is bubbling up (shoved down) within him. His eyes, adjusted to the darkness, allow him to see her ornamental headstone outlined against the summer beauty of the field. He could read her epitaph.
It does not include the titles of wife and mother, he notes with despair (no emotion). The former she cherished above others (secretly, for it was the way their life had worked), the latter only a snapshot of a future that never was.
He feels tears (nothing) well up in his eyes, making his vision blurry and garbled (crystal clear and unmarred).
His love (hate) is gone, and by his hand (by his hand).
He collapses to his knees (remains upright on mechanical legs) and weeps (stands) on the ground she lay beneath.
Anakin Skywalker is still, trapped in Time, in Memories, in Love.
Darth Vader is not still.
He turns, his cape (hair) flying in the wind. His regulated (harsh and tear-filled) breathing making a whooshing sound against the darkness of the night. The night swallows him whole, but he does not mind. It obscures him from the outside world as he walks away.
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the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter (at) hotmail (dot) com.
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