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crack_van2007-11-29 11:56 pm
malabud.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-11-29 11:56 pm
Entry tags:
Messages from the Grave by VA-Parky (PG)
Fandom: STAR WARS PT
Pairing: Gen
Length: 3,300 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: VA-Parky's Fanfiction.net Profile
Why this must be read:
This short story is set soon after the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire. Darth Vader is still unaccustomed to his new name and his new limbs. As he struggles to find equilibrium (both literally and metaphorically), he receives a package addressed to his former self. Padmé had arranged to send her husband a message in the event of her death. She inadvertently reveals far more than the newly minted Darth Vader is prepared for.
Though this story is short, it packs quite a punch. I won't lie; this fic is quite angsty. However, it's the good sort of angst. Vader needs to know the truth, and we--the audience--need him to know the truth. We already know the revelation that's coming, but there is a certain satisfaction we derive from Vader discovering it for himself.
Vader is completely in character, which is good, since the fic is from his point of view. He is no longer Anakin Skywalker, but he retains Anakin's insecurities. He's also not quite the Darth Vader of the Original Trilogy, for he is still feeling out his power and how to use it in the new regime. Somewhere in the middle between the two, this Vader is just what he ought to be for the time period.
Overall, this is an excellent story, and the ending is certainly memorable. Read this fic. You won't be disappointed. Highly recommended.
* * *
"Lord Vader?"
In the back of my mind, I am aware of the way the title hovers in the air, waiting for someone to claim it. Unfortunately, it takes several moments before that same part of my mind remembers that 'someone' is supposed to be me.
Clenching my jaw in aggravation, I silently curse my ears for their traitorous ways, for continuing to listen for the name of a man who no longer existed – and rightfully so. Anakin Skywalker had been the worst kind of weakling; one who carried remorse and regret, who sympathized and idealized. And in the end, he had been one who allowed his love and fear run rampant until they destroyed him.
Never again.
I finally turn, my gaze landing on the plain wooden box the clone trooper holds in his outstretched hands. The mild annoyance I had felt earlier blooms into white-hot anger. I am being disturbed for a delivery? Doesn't this bumbling bantha know who I am? Hasn't he heard the rumors of my power?
Or... perhaps the fool simply desires a personal demonstration.
I watch in mild amusement as one of the trooper's hands fly to his throat, the sudden movement causing the box to dangle precariously in his remaining hand. In a last-ditch attempt to salvage the contents, the trooper presses the container against his body – and reveals a symbol I hadn't thought I would ever see again.
I take a shaky step back, my distraction allowing the courier to regain his breath as well as his hold on the box. "I'm sorry if I have displeased you, my lord," he finally pants. "That was not my intention."
"Where did you get that?" I snap.
"We were given orders by the Emperor to intercept deliveries to the abandoned Jedi Temple, sir. This arrived yesterday evening addressed to a 'Knight Skywalker.' I was told to bring any such discoveries to you."
Messages from the Grave
Pairing: Gen
Length: 3,300 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: VA-Parky's Fanfiction.net Profile
Why this must be read:
This short story is set soon after the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire. Darth Vader is still unaccustomed to his new name and his new limbs. As he struggles to find equilibrium (both literally and metaphorically), he receives a package addressed to his former self. Padmé had arranged to send her husband a message in the event of her death. She inadvertently reveals far more than the newly minted Darth Vader is prepared for.
Though this story is short, it packs quite a punch. I won't lie; this fic is quite angsty. However, it's the good sort of angst. Vader needs to know the truth, and we--the audience--need him to know the truth. We already know the revelation that's coming, but there is a certain satisfaction we derive from Vader discovering it for himself.
Vader is completely in character, which is good, since the fic is from his point of view. He is no longer Anakin Skywalker, but he retains Anakin's insecurities. He's also not quite the Darth Vader of the Original Trilogy, for he is still feeling out his power and how to use it in the new regime. Somewhere in the middle between the two, this Vader is just what he ought to be for the time period.
Overall, this is an excellent story, and the ending is certainly memorable. Read this fic. You won't be disappointed. Highly recommended.
* * *
"Lord Vader?"
In the back of my mind, I am aware of the way the title hovers in the air, waiting for someone to claim it. Unfortunately, it takes several moments before that same part of my mind remembers that 'someone' is supposed to be me.
Clenching my jaw in aggravation, I silently curse my ears for their traitorous ways, for continuing to listen for the name of a man who no longer existed – and rightfully so. Anakin Skywalker had been the worst kind of weakling; one who carried remorse and regret, who sympathized and idealized. And in the end, he had been one who allowed his love and fear run rampant until they destroyed him.
Never again.
I finally turn, my gaze landing on the plain wooden box the clone trooper holds in his outstretched hands. The mild annoyance I had felt earlier blooms into white-hot anger. I am being disturbed for a delivery? Doesn't this bumbling bantha know who I am? Hasn't he heard the rumors of my power?
Or... perhaps the fool simply desires a personal demonstration.
I watch in mild amusement as one of the trooper's hands fly to his throat, the sudden movement causing the box to dangle precariously in his remaining hand. In a last-ditch attempt to salvage the contents, the trooper presses the container against his body – and reveals a symbol I hadn't thought I would ever see again.
I take a shaky step back, my distraction allowing the courier to regain his breath as well as his hold on the box. "I'm sorry if I have displeased you, my lord," he finally pants. "That was not my intention."
"Where did you get that?" I snap.
"We were given orders by the Emperor to intercept deliveries to the abandoned Jedi Temple, sir. This arrived yesterday evening addressed to a 'Knight Skywalker.' I was told to bring any such discoveries to you."
Messages from the Grave