My Baby, My Son
Iella

I've wanted to write Leia's point of view on Anakin's death for a while, but couldn't quite decide how to present it until this poem hit me on the head the other day. Losing a child is a parent's worse nightmare -- and really beyond that there's not more I can say, as ultimately words are so inadequate. For the moment this is the closest I can get.

N.B. Apparently baby Anakin's eyes were brown at birth and changed to blue later.



My baby, I remember you still
warm, wonderful -- a moist bundle
of limbs unfolding in perfect proportion,
your brown eyes discovering
the world for the first time
your first journey completed
your first conquest
my heart.

Accustomed to a humid
equatorial shelter,
sustenance on tap,
you objected loudly to
the harsh new climate,
cold, clinical
like the cut that severed
your former lifeline.
Our connection, once tangible,
transcended the frail flesh --
became stronger, indestructible.

My little boy, I wish I could remember
your first lisping utterances, articulations
in babyspeak of your loving origins,
but they were shared with another
no less caring, but not me your mother.

Your name, your inheritance
a double danger, and you so vulnerable.
Bound to you and yet separated by
necessity. Jedi mothers don't dream
-- except in nightmares.

My boy, I do remember your first halting
steps, the ground an unreliable ally
tricking and toppling you
making you chuckle. You
unafraid, at home in halls of power
in the glistening corridors of hyperspace.

My son, I remember
the fond family joke
you the puzzle adept
and yet to us the puzzle, hearing
rhythms unreachable to our ears.
Problems were just equations,
like the temple on Yavin,
rebuilt thanks to you.
I still have the model,
its harmony and balance
quintessentially yours.

What siren songs moved you?
What echoes from a lost past
where strength of will
and honour were still virtues
and not tainted by that base thing
politicians call expediency?
So many times I almost lost you,
greed, ambition honing the cruel blades
that would cut you from me again
and again. For you
age was no magical shield and so
you grew up before your time. I
don't remember the moment. I
looked away for an instant
and there you were, a man
to look up to, a young man
I was proud to call my son.

My young man, I remember your still
form aglow in the Force, the flush of victory
on your sleeping face. Dantooine,
your initiation as protector of Jedi.

I don't remember the surgical strike
that severed your tie to this life, but
I felt your body aflame -- a crucible
tested by fire, sanctified by the Force
your fierce desire to save us all,
your perfect love redeeming
me when all I felt was pain.

My immortal, I remember your still form
your sweet face peaceful in victory, the stars
aglow showering your final journey
with radiance reserved only for heroes.
And yet the phantom cord endures
stronger still. My link to you. My
everlasting connection to you, my baby,
my son -- my Anakin.



Disclaimer: All content is made up, and no profit or lucre is expected, solicited, advocated or paid. This is all just for fun. Any comments, please e-mail the author or WOOKIEEhut directly. Flames will be ignored. Characters and situations are based on those which are the property of LucasFilms Ltd., Bantam Publishing, Random House, and their respective original owners and developers. The rest is this story's author's own fault. This story may not be posted anywhere without the author's knowledge, consent, and permission. This story is presented by Wookieehut.com.