Whumptober 2020

No. 14: Heat/Fire

Sorry for being so late )-:
I don't know, is this Whumpy enough?

The environment of Mustafar was harsh and unforgiving. A constant reddish hue shone just above the horizon, while the stones on land were always as hot as if they were being cooked in an oven. The unbearable heat made the clothes cling to one's skin, the blood boil, the lungs tighten.

This was what Luke Skywalker was feeling, and he couldn't imagine how Darth Vader, with that heavy black suit, was surviving.

The mighty Sith Lord was walking slowly, his feet barely leaving the ground with each step. He didn't want to warn his son - he was too proud - but he felt about to faint, breathing was too difficult with that mask.

The two men had been walking for hours, at this point, since the ship which had been transporting them (Vader as a pilot, Luke as a prisoner) had been damaged. They were headed to the Sith Lord's castle, but it was so far away... it wasn't even visible from that distance!

When the vehicle had crashed, Luke had thought escaping could be a good idea: he was surely much faster than his father, he would be able to run away and look for help. But now he was sure that remaining together was the best idea in that infernal place. What if one of them got lost alone in that hell?

Especially Vader... although the older man was a Sith, the boy was feeling compassion for him. Vader was exhausted and in pain, the young Jedi was very sure about it. And he was still his father.

"I think we should stop here" Luke said. "We won't make it if you're in such conditions" .

Vader looked up at his son and felt a burning rage rise in his guts.

"You are my prisoner. I must decide" he said menacingly. "We shall go on. You must be interned and interrogated as soon as possible".

Luke ran one hand through his sweaty hair in an expression of frustration. His father was repaying him like that for having stayed with him? Now fleeing sounded much better than before. But what could he do? Running away in that deathly environment was simply suicide.

"I think we'll die if we don't rest. And it's very late, we should at least try to sleep" he replied.

"We cannot" Vader said. "We must reach out destination as soon as possible. Follow me, we are going to take a shorter path".

Luke wanted to argue, but what could he possibly obtain? Alone on Mustafar, he was nothing.

He reluctantly followed his father's footsteps, picking up his pace with little to no effort. Vader was extremely tired, even if he didn't want to admit it.

The march went on for what looked like hours until the two men reached a thin promontory, a lonely cliff of rocks just above the red lava.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Luke yelled, trying to make his voice audible despite the thunder of volcanoes erupting.

"Do not question me!" Vader roared.

The young Jedi had no clue why his father was so furious: it was probably because of the crash landing. Again he had to follow him on the new uncharted territory.

But the exploration did not go on.

Vader, who was ahead of Luke, put too much of his weight on a frail stone, and fell.

Panic now ruled his mind. In the split second he spent in the air, he remembered his first time on Mustafar. Obi-Wan, Padmé, the duel... The tragedy. Fire and flames, flaring lava.

He screamed for help. He didn't want this. Not again. He would die, die, die...

Luckily, this time he wasn't alone. One hand caught his on reflex, preventing him from precipitating in the boiling material.

Vader looked up to see his son, who had managed to hurriedly get down to catch him, laying across the scorching rocks while holding his wrist with both hands in the greatest effort.
He met his eyes through the mask, and slightly smiled.

In that very moment, Mustafar's nucleus decided that it was the case to release more of its energy. A burst of flame shot up from the lava beneath, attacking the edge of the Sith Lord's cape.

"Pull me up!" Vader yelled, an irrational terror rapidly taking control over his mind.

"I can't!" Luke cried out in the utmost anguish. He couldn't even move from his uncomfortable (and quite painful) position... how was he supposed to bring his father's weight up?

Then, just when the flames were starting to burn the black cloth around Vader's body, the young Jedi remembered Yoda's lessons. This time he wouldn't fail, he wouldn't try: he would just do it.

He concentrated, he felt his father's body as a projection of his mind. It was like lifting a limb, as simple as that.

Slowly, Vader was pulled up by an invisible energy and gently laid on the rocks. When Luke opened his eyes, he immediately stood up and stepped on his father's cloak to prevent the flames from spreading.

A few seconds and everything was over. Vader pulled himself upright, struggling to find a comfortable breathing pattern. Through the waning fog of his mind, he vaguely felt his son's hand on his shoulder and a thick concern radiating in the Force.

"Are you alright?" Luke asked worriedly, adrenaline leaving his system and leaving him out of breath.

"Thanks to you" Vader replied.

A sheepish smile blossomed on Luke's lips before his Rebel spirit took over again, imposing to him, who was effectively a prisoner, to ignore the compassion he felt for his father.

Vader stood up and continued to walk as if nothing had happened, looking at the young man beside him with a mixture of anger, admiration and affection.

He was going to have his son interrogated, but he didn't want this! And how he despised that boy for awakening his care!

He hated and loved Luke. One might ask how; he didn't know, but he was feeling it potently, and he was more anguished than ever.

The last paragraph was a little tribute to a Latin poet called Catullus. Don't judge, I was simply too busy with my Latin test XD