Saga The Undercover Drabble Thread - Week 5 - The Man of the Hour - Han Solo

Written for the Ultimate Drabble Challenge. I thought a drabble challenge would be the perfect way to take the plunge into the posting pool.



Beginnings

As beginnings go, it was not promising. He looked up at me with solemn blue eyes, shivering in the coldness of space. In my hand, I clutched the carved snippet he had given me with such grown-up ceremony.

?I?m going to marry you,? he vowed and I had to stifle my laughter.

He was only a boy, and I told him so.

A grim smile transformed the boyish face into a man?s. ?I won?t always be a boy,? he reminded me.

?No, one day you will be a man and have forgotten me.?

He merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Middles

He?s nervous. It?s painfully apparent in every word that falls haltingly from his lips. Unbelievably, I make him nervous. How odd to think that I have that effect on him, on a Jedi.

He doesn?t seem much like a Jedi in this moment. He seems much more a stumbling boy, faced with the object of his childish affection. He smiles and a compliment tumbles from his lips. Like him, it is awkward and bumbling.

Then I meet his eyes and I see something there that is not discomfited at all. His eyes blaze with sultry promise.

Anakin has grown up.



Ends

We began with whispers and we end with shouts.

We began with soft kisses and we end with harsh words.

?You?re going to a place I cannot follow,? I tell him. His eyes blaze his anger at my response. How could he think I?d follow him there? It goes against everything for which I?ve ever stood. Yet, I do not want him to wander there alone.

I want to save him, to drag him back from the precipice. I hold out my hand, willing him to take it, begging him without words.

He does not take my hand.

He falls.



First

Our first kiss, stolen by a lake, or perhaps surrendered by me in a moment of weakness ? and dare I say desire? No matter its origins, it was given, shared, enjoyed, treasured, and then rejected.

I had no choice, I told myself. He was dangerous ? not physically, though I sensed the power that was coiled within him?waiting to be unleashed.

No, the danger was in his appeal. I could easily love him. I already wanted him. It would be a short journey to real affection, and from there I would fall into love. A dangerous place to be ? with him.


Last


Our last kiss ? stolen by a stream of lava, or perhaps surrendered by me. I still loved him, no matter what I told myself he had become. Fire from the molten seas around us was reflected in his eyes, shimmering there in a deadly blaze.

Did he love me? Or was he merely staking his claim?

I?ll never know; now we are done. Our child still waits to make his entrance, and I give myself up to the struggle. My lips still tingle with that last touch, battling with the bruising of my throat for my attention.

Which is real?

 

Beautiful work! My favorites were Ends and Last, but they were all great.

I want to save him, to drag him back from the precipice. I hold out my hand, willing him to take it, begging him without words.

He does not take my hand.

He falls.

Wow. The imagery in those lines is amazing. You say so much with so little.

Last was heartbreaking. Did he love me? Or was he merely staking his claim? My lips still tingle with that last touch, battling with the bruising of my throat for my attention.

Which is real? Poor Padme. In this set, it's no wonder she wants to die. You really captured her thoughts and emotions.

Brilliant work! I can't wait to see what you have in store for the next sets!

 

Oooooh very well done!! I really enjoyed all of these, particularly the first one

 

Wow. Just wow. I'm a first time writer myself, having just posted my piece a few minutes ago, but you, you're just amazing. Man, do you have a way with words!

 

Those were wonderful!

I loved Firsts - very sweet...

You did a great job showcasing Padme's emotions.

 

Nice job!

I like this imagery:

I sensed the power that was coiled within him?waiting to be unleashed.

Dangerous, serpentine. Like a spring that's been tightly compressed. Great description of Anakin's power and his psychological needs!

I like how you watch Anakin's rise and fall through Padmé's eyes. Very touching, and a real sense of despair at the end.

Welcome to the boards, UnderCoverJedi!

 

wow.. first postings and you choose the drabbles? Very courageous, and you did a wonderful job, exploring the years of Padme and Anakin's romance.

Welcome!

 

Welcome, UnderCoverJedi!

Great response and what a start to posting, indeed! I can't pick a favorite part, because I loved everything equally. Lovely first person POV with Padmé. It was great to see the arch in her character from a young girl to a grown woman.

Looking forward to reading more from you.

 

I loved these. You showed Anakin through Padmé's eyes so well, from that conversation so long ago to their last moments together. The imagery is stunning and powerful. Awesome job!

 

Each struck to the heart of deepest emotion: the innocence in First; the tenderness and shyness of Middles and First; and the sorrow behind End and Last.

 

Oh, so beautifully written. And quite a powerful piece!

Did he love me? Or was he merely staking his claim?

I especially liked this.

Well done! I look forward to reading more of your work in the future.

 

Wow very nice. I look forward to what else you come up with. I enjoyed reading about Padmé's thoughts.

 

Mathom Thank you so much.

Layren Drabbles seemed a good place to start.

DancesWithBlasters I'm not new to writing, so if you ever saw my first attempts you might hurt something because you were laughing so hard.

KELIA She's an interesting character to write.

divapilot Thank you.

Noelie Drabbles are very structured, and similar to writing assignments I've been given by professors in the past, so they weren't too bad.

Healer_Leona The first week was Padmé, now it will be Luke.

MirandaFair I like geneology, so following the path of years seemed natural.

Daenarrah Thank you!

Jade_eyes That was what I wanted to convey.

Gina Thank you for reading!

Araxie Thanks!





Week 2


Hours

The struggle took hours, the short journey from womb to life. And yet, here they are, perfect in every way, looking to me to care for them. But I am weak, too weak to do more than give them the names I had pondered on for so many months. My gift is given, and I feel life slipping through my fingers. I open my grasp and let it slide away more quickly. I am done with it; I have no need to hold on.

A faint cry from them and I almost turn back, but the light beckons too brightly.


Days

Days on Tatooine are long and lonely, melding seamlessly one into another, endless days of changeless routine. Luke kicked at the sands and then he cursed them. Too much sand, too much heat, too little excitement ? that was Tatooine. If there was indeed a bright center of the galaxy then it would know nothing of these dunes.

He blinked up at the too bright sky, knowing that one day he would be gone from here. No more days spent sweating and swearing under the twin suns, wishing for something more, hoping for it, fearing it might never come.

Another day.


Weeks

Weeks spent as a rebel, and yet he felt no different, not really. When he woke, he still expected Aunt Beru?s voice to call him to eat and his uncle?s irritable order to get moving. Every morning that he woke and did not hear them he was surprised. Would the day ever come when he did not anticipate their voices?

He turned in his bunk and stared at the cool, gray wall, so different from the cream-colored room of his youth. Briefly, he closed his eyes and pretended that Aunt Beru was just outside his door, waiting to tap.

?Luke??

Months

It had been months since he learned of his father?s fate?his identity. And yet, Luke had still not accepted it. It was too bizarre, too extraordinary ? too painful. No, it could not be true. Ben would have told him that much at least.

His father was dead. He died long ago at the hands of the monster who spouted such lies. Vader was nothing more than a murderous beast. He must believe Ben.

All his life he had been fed lies. He was sick to death of lies. He wanted no more of subterfuge, of truths hidden behind false words.




Years


Vader looked up at his son, wondering where the years had gone since they had planned so happily for this child. Years gone now, never to be regained.

Yet here was the boy, his son! And a daughter, too.

The Force was merciful, though he had not guessed it. Two children, gifts of the Force, gifts from his beloved. Such sweetness had existed and he had not realized! His sins forgiven, redemption at hand.

Perhaps Padmé had loved him still, even at the horrible end, even when he had ?

No.

Stop.

There was Luke.

There was Leia.

It was enough.

 

Those were very nice.

I like the shifting POV from Padme to Luke to Vader.

Great update

 

Wow, UnderCoverJedi! Just who the heck are you?
These are fabulous!
My favorite was "weeks", poor Luke.

He turned in his bunk and stared at the cool, gray wall, so different from the cream-colored room of his youth. Briefly, he closed his eyes and pretended that Aunt Beru was just outside his door, waiting to tap.

?Luke??

 

These are wonderful! I love both sets.


Great line:

Then I meet his eyes and I see something there that is not discomfited at all. His eyes blaze with sultry promise.

Anakin has grown up.


Well done!

 

"Weeks spent as a rebel, and yet he felt no different, not really. When he woke, he still expected Aunt Beru?s voice to call him to eat and his uncle?s irritable order to get moving. Every morning that he woke and did not hear them he was surprised. Would the day ever come when he did not anticipate their voices?"

Sometimes we forget that Leia wasn't the only one to lose her family in ANH. Not only does Luke lose his Uncle and Aunt he loses Ben as well. Good job!

 

KELIA Thank you for taking the time to read these.

oqidaun I cannot tell. I am "undercover" of course.

Jade_Pilot Thank you so much.

IrishEyedJedi Yes, Luke lost someone, too.







Week #3

This week, the theme is Vader.



Red

I was born from a chrysalis of crimson, the color of molten lava and Sith?s blade, bound in by threads of suffering and hatred. Like any rebirth or transformation, there was suffering to be endured. I rose from the ashes of an old life to ascend to what I am now?a creature of darkness and blood.

Fiery rivers reduced me, then magnified me, making me less and more than I was. I held up my hands in supplication and was denied. Help did not come. Then my hands themselves were forfeit.

Springing forth from my crimson womb, I am lost.



Grey

All around is grey, lacking either light or color.

Grey is the color of the Empire ? my Empire. I share it with Palpatine, that author of my misery. It should have been her at my side, not me at his.

The Empire moves over the galaxy like a rampaging river, carrying death and destruction with it, leaving devastation and loss in its wake. I do its deadly work, use my blade to finish what the Empire begins.

The Empire is as gray as my flesh, that sin that I hide beneath this hideous armor.

The grey presses in ? choking me.




White


White is nothingness.

It is empty and endless, spreading out vastly before me.

In nothingness, there is solace.

In nothingness, there can be some semblance of peace.

In nothingness, I can forget. I can choose not to remember.

In the white, there is only the pain, the suffering of the poor flesh that is left to me.

I find comfort in the sheer emptiness of it as I explore every corner of the white. It rounds about me, cradling me in arms of purest white, giving succor to the hungry, the needy, to me.

In the white, I am nothing.





Black

Black is death.

It is the absence of light, of hope, of life.

I am the darkness.

I am despair.

I create death.

I am death.

Side-by-side, I walk with it. We carry our rage out into the galaxy, letting our suffering radiate out in ever widening circles. Here we leave heartache. Here we leave grief. And there we visit death upon them.

I carry the black within me.

I nurture it. Feed it. Caress it to blazing life.

The black is me and I am it.

I struggle briefly against its bonds and then surrender.

The black is cold.



Blue

It is blue that greets me upon my arrival.

This surprises me, for I had expected nothing but darkness.

Instead, it is the bright blue of a perfect day, no storm in sight. It is a day meant for hope?and love.

I dare to glance at my side, and I am struck dumb by amazement?and gratitude.

For there she is, as bright and beautiful as ever.

She smiles, reaches out to take my hand. I feel her warmth envelop me. We are back on Naboo, young and in love, with nothing but happiness stretching out before us.

I am found.

 

EXCEPTIONAL.

I would say my favorite part was Beginnings and last - particularly the dialogue between them "I won't always be a boy" or did he say "someday I'll be a man" nevertheless, her reply was priceless "by then you'll have forgotten me" of course I know I am not quoting verbatim.

The other part was beginnings and her reminiscing of the stolen kiss byt he lake.

Great job over all - what's a drabble?

 

Hours is also exceptionally written. Just beautiful man.

 

Week II: Wonderful set. Hours was heart-wrenching, poor Padme - she didn't deserve half of what she got. She deserved to see her children grow up. Days had a nice meditative quality to it. I liked the part about the bright center of the universe. You really captured Luke's restlessness here. Weeks was tissue inspiring. You could really feel Luke's grief and culture-shock. Coming simultaniously as they did, that must have made it very hard for him. But not half as hard as accpeting the information he got at the end of ESB. You really captured that sense of confusion and frustration in Luke there in Months. If I were him, I'd be sick of being lied to too. Years was my favorite. I loved this one - it nearly brought me to tears. His relief at being forgiven, his eternal love for Padme, his regret at lost time, his joy at discovering his children...I could go on and on. But that's enough. You really brought Vader/Anakin to life here.

Perhaps Padmé had loved him still, even at the horrible end, even when he had ?

No.

Stop.

Oh Anakin. She did forgive you. She loved you.

Week III: Very poetic set this week. Loved the extended metaphor of Vader being "born" from the fires of Mustafar in Red. And how the very life he sought in serving the Emperor is killing him in Grey. You could feel the conflict in him in in White, where he'd rather embrace the empty promises of white rather than feel the pain and guilt of living in color. Black was chilling. Black is death and Vader is black, so Vader is death, and can't escape. And Blue was touching. The happy end to a sad story. I didn't have a favorite this week, they were all equally wonderful.

Great job! I can't wait until the next set!

 

Absolutely amazing! And these are your first pieces? How extradordinary!

Your imagery and emotions are just fantastic! You manage to delve perfectly into the minds of the characters and explore their innermost thoughts flawlessly. What amazes me most is the type of emotion you'll able to portray in a drabble.

Bravo!

-Krystal

 

Springing forth from my crimson womb, I am lost.

That was wonderful description!

It should have been her at my side, not me at his.

It's so sad because it's so true!

*wipes tears*

Good job!


EC

 

The images of what Vader's life was truly like with color are amazing.

The white reverberated with me, because everything in the empire seemed white or grey and I wondered what he would think day in and day out looking at White..

Nothingness.

Great job!