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“Did you ever know your mother? Your real mother?” the boy asks. While his voice is calm and controlled, with just the slightest edge of a waver, the question surprises the boy’s young lady companion, and she pauses a moment before answering, trying to recall.
“Just a little bit,” she replies. “She died when I was very young.”
The boy—a young man, really, but still a boy to Anakin's eyes—nods, like he was anticipating her response. “What do you remember?”
The young lady shrugs, shaking her head. “Just images, really. Feelings.”
“Tell me,” the boy insists, leaning forward slightly.
There is another moment’s pause, followed by a sigh. “She was very beautiful. Kind, but… sad.” The young lady looks up to face the boy directly, and he averts his eyes. “Why are you asking me this?”
A shadow crosses the boy’s face, his gaze downcast. “I have no memory of my mother,” he says sadly. “I never knew her.”
The words, so simple and yet so undeniably bitter, linger in the thick, musky air like a puff of acrid smoke, destined to smother anyone who dares wander into its path. Anakin gasps as the full force of the blast hits him square in the chest, nearly knocking him from his tree limb perch dozens of feet from the ground. He whips out his left hand, managing to grab hold of another nearby branch just before he would have tipped backwards, gritting his teeth as tiny bits of the rough wood proceed to burrow underneath the skin of his fingers.
Because of course it had to be his left hand, instead of the mechno-arm of his right, on which he almost always wears a glove to hide the metallic, spindly-appearing fingers.
Except when he’s sleeping, of course. Which he thought he was, until he looked around and realised he was… here.
Wherever ‘here’ is.
Because, try as he might, Anakin is certain that wherever this place is, he’s never been here before.
In fact, now that he thinks about it, he’s not even sure who the two people are that he’s been watching all this time. Righting himself back onto his tree branch, Anakin leans closer, tilting his head slightly as though a different angle might help him decipher what is going on.
“I have no memory of my mother,” the young man suddenly says again, like a hologram being replayed. “I never knew her.”
“He never knew his own mother!” Anakin whispers. “That’s horrible!” A shudder ripples through his body as those heavy words drape across his shoulders like a leaden cloak, forcing him to tighten his grip on the tree branch.
While Anakin may have been taken away from his beloved mother at too young of an age, he at least got to spend the first eight years of his life with her. And while she now lives on only in his memory, Anakin treasures the relationships he has formed with his stepfather and stepbrother, people he never would have met had he not left Tatooine when he did.
As Obi-Wan likes to say, the will of the Force is for a Jedi to discover, not to control.
“I never knew my mother,” the young man suddenly says again, breaking through Anakin’s wandering thoughts like a blaster shot. He flinches as he looks back down to see the young man’s eyes—such a piercingly blue colour—staring straight up at him, clouded with sorrow, grief, and an anger so intense that a knot forms in Anakin’s throat.
He could just imagine Obi-Wan right now, eyeing him in dismay. “Only you could find trouble in a dream, Anakin.”
But, aside from that, there is something about the boy’s eyes. Something almost… familiar.
“I never knew her, and it’s all your fault!” Those blue eyes narrow into slits as he continues. “Because you killed her! You killed my mother!”
Anakin instinctively shakes his head, horror washing over him like the thundering rains of Kamino.
Where has he seen those eyes before? Because it couldn't be—
Or, could it?
“No!” he gasps, refusing to believe the horrible thought. “I—I didn’t kill anyone—” He breaks off, gulping. “How could I—how could you say that, when I—I don’t even know who—who you are?”
The young man’s lips twitch, the upper lip curling into such a hateful sneer that a bolt of ice shoots down Anakin’s spine.
“Oh, but you do know me,” he says, low and tight and with an almost Palpatine-like rasp. “Don’t you, Father?”
In an instant, the sheet of ice blanketing Anakin’s back suddenly doubles in size, threatening once again to knock him from the tree. His breath stills as he grips onto the branch for dear life, trying to make sense of the words now bouncing around like womp rats inside his mind.
There wasn’t a single person in the entire galaxy who wasn’t aware of the complete and unwavering adoration Anakin had for his beloved wife, so how could anyone ever believe such a thing?
It was unthinkable. A notion completely bereft of reasoning.
“No!” he finally manages to say, shaking his head back and forth in utter disbelief. He sucks in a deep breath, nearly choking on the ice-laden air. “No! That’s not true! That’s impossible!”
“Search your feelings, Father. You know it to be true,” the boy says, the rasp in his voice a bit thicker now.
“No! No!” Anakin shrieks, tearing his eyes away from the boy. He looks down, a soft grunt escaping his throat as he realises he can no longer see the floor of the forest that once surrounded him.
Or the young lady, whose familiarity still tugs aimlessly on the back of Anakin’s mind.
Instead, he and the boy seem to have been transported into some kind of abyss, one that stretches as far as hyperspace is long.
“What I say is true, and you know it,” the boy says. He advances towards Anakin, his gloved right hand outstretched, closing the distance between them with a predator’s menace. Anakin tries to shrink back, nearly losing his footing yet again as the boy’s face reveals a fleeting smile that almost could be Luke’s crooked grin—
The boy’s raspy voice slices through the eerie silence. “You know it is true, Father! You killed her! In your anger, you killed my mother!”
An agonised noise rips its way from Anakin’s throat, the searing pain spreading through his body like the blades of a thousand lightsabers.
“No, I didn’t! I could never!” he cries, the sneer on the boy’s lips stretching into a smile of such vileness that Anakin’s stomach gives a lurch. Anakin leans back on the branch as far as he dares, trying desperately to avoid the boy’s hand, slowly reaching towards him as if to yank him down from the tree.
“No!” Anakin yelps as the boy’s gloved fingertips attempt to grab hold of the fabric of his tunic. “No! Don't touch me! No son of mine would ever torture me like this, so leave me alone!”
“Leave me alone!” the boy mimics, the sneer reappearing on his face, which is now covered in a series of deeply etched lines. “But that has always been your greatest weakness, hasn’t it, Father? That you can never truly be alone?”
Anakin furrows his brow, not quite understanding where the boy is coming from. “And why should I be? I am at my best when I’m surrounded by my family and friends, the people I love. People weren’t meant to live their lives in solitude, so why should I? Why should any of us?”
“Oh, but that is not what it once was, isn’t that so?” the boy demands. “Didn't these pitiful sentiments of yours nearly cause the destruction of the entire Jedi Order?”
“What? No! I—I don't know what you mean?” Anakin says, shaking his head. “I fought to change the Jedi Order so that I didn't have to be alone—so that none of us will ever have to be alone ever again!” He sucks in a harsh breath, reinforcing his grip on the tree branch. “I fought to change the Order so that Padme and I could live our lives out in the open, instead of being forever confined to the shadows with our children. And I am proud to say that I have succeeded! Even Obi-Wan is happy about it!”
The boy halts, his hand dropping to his side as he tilts his head, his eyes suddenly taking on an eerie yellow gleam in the dim light of the forest.
“Oh, you did, did you?” he rasps, enunciating each syllable as though Anakin had suddenly lost the ability to understand words. “If that is true, then where is she? Where is this woman whom you refer to as ‘angel’? Where is my mother?”
“Why, she’s right here, right next to me like she always is when we’re—” Anakin cuts off as he looks over to his right, expecting to find his precious wife sleeping peacefully next to him, and instead finds only the criss-crossing branches of the tree he’s clinging to so precariously, the trunk of which has now disappeared into the seemingly endless abyss. His heart leaps with fear as he frantically glances around, searching the darkened forest for his beloved angel.
But all he can see is the tops of trees, interspersed with the odd plank-and-rope bridge stretched between them. Padme is nowhere to be found.
“Padme?” he cries, his heart as heavy as lead. “Angel, are you there? Where are you?” He looks down at the boy, whose countenance has somehow become even more sinister. “Where is she? Where is my wife? Is she safe? Is she all right?”
Anakin gasps as the boy throws his head back and begins to laugh, a sickening, high-pitched cackle that sends crystals of ice teeming through Anakin’s veins, freezing him from the inside out.
He’s heard that sinister laugh before, a long, long time ago.
“I told you, Father,” the boy says practically spitting the word. “She’s not here anymore! She is dead!”
“No!” Anakin screams, scattering a flock of flying creatures from a neighbouring tree. His legs threaten to give way, his trembling left hand barely able to hold onto the tree branch as the boy finally reaches him, pointing a gloved finger directly at Anakin’s chest.
“No! Don't touch me! Leave me alone!” But before Anakin can slink back from the boy’s poisonous touch, he stumbles forward, the forest abyss surrounding him suddenly transforming into a small, sterile-looking room. Choking back a sob, Anakin glances around, trying to take in his new surroundings, nearly collapsing with relief when he sees Padme lying on the med bed a few metres away, a floating medical droid attending to her.
“Padme!” he calls as he tries to take a step towards her, halting in shock when Padme seems to retreat an equal distance away. “Angel, it’s me! I’m here!”
He attempts to take another step towards her, only to have the entire scene shift again, forcing him to remain at the exact same distance from his love.
“What is this sorcery?” he yells as he makes yet another attempt, this time shopping short when Padme lets out an anguished wail. “Let me go! I demand that you allow me to get to my wife!”
But somehow, neither Padme nor the droid attending to her seem to hear him as Padme cries out again, her angelic voice laced with such intense pain that Anakin’s heart cracks in two.
“Angel, I’m here!” he cries past the knot in his throat. “I’m right here with you—”
He cuts off as Padme calls out his name, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as though she’s searching for him above.
“Anakin! Anakin, help me!”
“Padme, I’m here!” Anakin yelps as he lurches towards her, only to have her retreat yet again. He lets out an angry growl, glancing rapidly around the room. “Who is doing this? Why won’t you let me near her?”
“For reasons we can’t explain, we are losing her,” the droid suddenly says, her soft, mechanical voice piercing straight through Anakin’s terror. “We need to operate quickly if we are to save the babies.”
“Babies?” Anakin gasps. “But—?”
“Babies?” says another voice, one that Anakin instantly recognises as his Master and oldest friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“She is carrying twins,” the droid says to Obi-Wan, so matter-of-factly that Anakin immediately halts in place, his mouth suddenly going dry.
“Wait… w-what?” he stammers. “You mean, again? Oh, Obi-Wan will never let us hear the end of this!”
Before anyone can answer, Padme lets out another pained wail, encouraged by the droid hovering near her abdomen. A few heartbeats later, the droid emerges holding a newborn baby, one so perfectly pink and beautiful that Anakin can’t help but let out a smile.
“But, wait, that’s Luke,” he says a second later. He watches as the droid hands baby Luke over to Obi-Wan and returns to her position next to Padme, his left hand clenching into a fist. “That’s my son! What are you doing with my son—?”
“It’s a girl,” the droid announces as she moves backwards, a second perfect baby held in her metallic hands.
“Of course she is! She’s my daughter!” Anakin snaps, instantly recognising newborn Leia’s radiant beauty. “Now, let me get to Padme and my children!”
“Oh, but you cannot, Father,” a raspy voice suddenly says behind him. Anakin whips around, jumping back in fear as he comes face-to-face with the same hooded, yellow-eyed figure he thought he’d left behind in the forest. “You see, you aren’t really here. You were never here.”
“That’s not true!” Anakin exclaims. “I was there at Padme’s side when Luke and Leia were born, there's no way I would have made her go through that pain alone!”
“That is a lie!” the boy snaps, his yellow-stained teeth flaring. “One that you have repeated to yourself so many times, it has now replaced what truly happened!”
Anakin violently shakes his head. “No—!”
“Because what truly happened is too horrific for anyone to contemplate,” the boy continues, completely ignoring Anakin’s protest. He leans in closer to Anakin, his yellow eyes sweeping across Anakin’s face, and lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. “Especially you, Father. Because how could you ever live with yourself, if you knew that your actions, and the fear and anger that lead to them, were the direct cause of my mother’s death?”
Something in the boy’s voice, an evil force of some kind nearly hidden behind the rasp, causes Anakin to gasp and stumble backwards, barely able to catch himself before crumpling to the floor. A jagged groan escapes his lips as torturous images begin swirling across his mind like a Tatooine sandstorm, the very images that used to haunt him during those final waning months of the Clone Wars.
The war between the Republic and the Separatists, clones versus battle droids. Jedi, versus Sith.
And the images of Anakin’s beloved Padme dying in childbirth, using her precious final breaths to cry out his name, were orchestrated by the very Sith Lord the Jedi had been fruitlessly searching for since before Anakin became a Padawan.
It was those very thoughts—feelings, dreams, whatever Obi-Wan and Master Yoda wanted to call them—that nearly led Anakin down the dark path the boy now taunts him with, a path he was only able to turn away from in the barest nick of time.
A path that, Anakin realised, would have destroyed his true self so completely that Padme would have ceased to know him.
Or, even worse, she would have grown to fear him. Feared for her life, and that of their children.
It was a thought so unbearable to contemplate that it managed to snap Anakin out of his rage-filled haze only seconds before he would have committed the ultimate act of betrayal, quashing any hope he’d ever had of repairing his relationship with the Jedi Council, or even allowing his growing family to live their lives out in the open.
The thought that he could ever, ever, do anything that could even potentially bring harm to his wife and children… well, it was simply out of the question.
As it still remains now.
“You're wrong!” he manages to say as he rights himself, sucking in a deep breath through his nose. “I would never do anything like that of which you speak. Do you truly believe that I could ever put my wife in danger? Or our children? How dare you insinuate such a thing!”
For the first time since Anakin initially saw him, the boy’s countenance falters. It is only for a fleeting moment, but still long enough for Anakin to notice.
Emboldened, Anakin presses on.
“You know it is wrong, don't you,” he continues, squaring his shoulders. “You know this, and yet, you continue your feeble attempts to convince me otherwise. Why?”
When the boy refuses to answer, Anakin demands again, “Why? Why do you do this?”
The boy’s lips begin to tremble, the lines marring his face fading slightly.
“Father,” he says, his voice quavering. “Father, I don't—”
“No. I am not your father,” Anakin cuts in. He crosses his arms, mimicking a favourite pose of Obi-Wan’s. “Whoever you believed your father to be, he is not me.” He stands straighter, raising his chin. “I am Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, husband to Padme, father to Luke, Leia, and—” He breaks off as a smile briefly takes over his face. “Well, we’re not quite sure yet, but we will be finding out soon enough.”
Then he takes a step back, and gives the boy a Jedi bow of courtesy. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my wife.”
And then he turns his back on the boy to find Padme still lying on the med table, with Obi-Wan standing next to her holding baby Luke in his arms.
“Padme! I’m here!” he calls as he takes a step towards her, gasping softly as Padme softly murmurs something to Obi-Wan in between her exhausted breaths.
“He—he’s—there’s still good in him,” she says, so softly that Anakin can barely hear her. “I—I know it, there’s still good…”
“Padme, no!” Anakin cries, frantically waving his arms as her head suddenly lolls to the side. “Padme, my love, I’m here! Can you see me?” Lunging forward, Anakin lets out an anguished noise when Padme moves even further out of his reach. “Padme, I’m right here! Please, don't leave me! I couldn't bear it, please don't—!” He stumbles, tears welling in his eyes as his beloved wife and their children begin to fade into the distance, leaving him behind.
“Padme, no! Please, don't leave me!”
“I’m not going to leave you, Ani,” he suddenly hears from somewhere behind him. The voice is faint, and he looks frantically around, unable to see anything but the black of night.
“Padme?” he cries, feeling around in the dark. “My love, where are you?”
“I’m right here, Ani,” she says again, a bit more clearly this time. “I’m here, and I won’t leave you.”
“But, where?” Anakin begs. “Angel, I can’t find—?”
A soft, smooth hand gently squeezing his shoulder startles Anakin awake. Sucking in a harsh breath, he turns sharply to his right to find his wife—his beautiful, angelic wife—looking up at him, her radiant brown eyes filled with worry.
“Shh, Anakin, it’s all right. I’m right here,” Padme whispers as Anakin collapses back onto his pillows. He shivers, squeezing his eyes closed as Padme curls her lithe body around him, as much as she can given her rounded belly, and drapes her slender arm across his bare chest, her fingertips trailing soothing circles on his sweat-soaked skin. The warmth of her touch envelops him like a soft blanket, chasing away the dream’s lingering icy chill.
“You're here,” Anakin says once he’s able to catch his breath. He buries his nose into Padme’s hair, breathing in the exquisite scent of her curls. “You're here with me.”
“Yes, I’m here. It’s all right,” she murmurs, over and over again as Anakin concentrates on his breathing, pushing the last vestiges of his dream away. A few heartbeats later, he opens his eyes and drags his gaze around their grand bedroom, its walls and furnishings filtered through the soft orange glow of the rising sun.
It had been so long since they’d been able to get away to the Lake Country house that Padme so loves, Anakin had practically forgotten what the place looked like. That is likely one reason why his sleep was so disturbed.
One reason out of many, but, as both Padme and Obi-Wan seem to enjoy reminding him, it is best to concentrate on only one thing at a time rather than try to attack all of the things at once.
“I’m all right now,” he says a few moments later. He draws in another breath, imploring his body to relax. Then he lifts his head to face Padme, attempting a smile as he cups her cheek in his hand. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
Padme smiles softly, brushing a wayward lock of hair from Anakin’s forehead. “It’s all right. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Anakin says automatically, his shoulders sagging slightly when Padme’s smile drops from her lips. He shifts back onto his back, drawing his wife as close to him as he can. “I mean… it was essentially the same dream I always have. Only… this time…”
“This time?” Padme gently prompts.
Anakin hefts out a sigh. “This time… I don't know for sure, but I think Luke was there.”
“Luke?” asks Padme.
“Yes,” Anakin replies. “And Leia too, only… they were older. Almost grown.” He lets out another sigh, stiffening slightly as the fading memories of his dream attempt a sudden resurgence. “I watched them speak to each other at first, but then Luke seemed to notice that I was there, and, well… he got angry. Very, very angry.”
“Angry?” Padme asks, laced with surprise. “Luke?”
Anakin smiles. “Yes, I know. It is hard to believe. But he was, my love, for it was emanating from his entire self. And it was all aimed directly at me.”
Padme’s fingertips halt their trailing across Anakin’s side as she lifts her head from his shoulder. “Why do you think that?”
A shiver ripples down Anakin’s spine, his arm instinctively tightening around his wife.
“Because of the things he said to me,” he softly answers. “And because… after a while, he started to look like… him.”
Padme draws in a sharp breath, knowing exactly to whom Anakin is referring. “Oh, Anakin,” she whispers as she presses a soft kiss to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don't be sorry,” Anakin says firmly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m the one who keeps disturbing your sleep because I can’t seem to handle a simple—”
“Ani, nothing about this is simple,” Padme gently interrupts. “We’ve all been through a lot in these last few years, and we still have a lot of work to do. Galaxies just don’t recover from a years’-long war overnight.”
“Yes, I know,” Anakin says. “But—”
“Which is why we are here, isn’t it?” Padme smiles again, and Anakin instantly feels his body start to relax.
“Well, we’re here because Obi-Wan insisted that we take a break,” Anakin says warily. “Even if he never takes one himself.”
Padme’s smile widens, her eyes sparkling with that familiar determination that Anakin adores. “Well, Obi-Wan is right for once. We do deserve a break, and so do the children. So I say we make the most of it.”
Anakin chuckles, the lingering remnants of his dream finally retreating under the warmth of Padme’s voice. “You're right of course, Angel,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We will make the most of it.” Then he looks over towards the window, the golden light of Naboo’s rising sun bathing the room in a soft, almost ethereal glow. “After all, we won’t have too many more of these days to spend with only Luke and Leia. Their new brother or sister will be here before we know it, and then they’ll have to share you.”
“They’ll have to share both of us,” says Padme, her palm resting comfortably on her rounded belly. “So let us spoil them while we can.”
“All right.” Cupping his wife’s cheek, Anakin plants another soft kiss to Padme’s lips, then swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Do you want me to wake the twins, or—?”
“I can wake the twins, you get started on breakfast,” Padme answers, slipping out of bed with a grace that belies her pregnancy. She stops short as Anakin opens his mouth. “And, Anakin, no ration bars, okay? Save those for after the baby is born.”
Shooting Padme one of his lopsided grins, Anakin pulls on his robe and pads down to the kitchen, where he finds Threepio busily setting the simple wooden table.
“Ah, good morning, Master Anakin!” Threepio exclaims as he carefully arranges the silverware at Leia’s place setting. “And such a delightful morning it is!”
Anakin nods as he peers out the large window over the sink, breathing in a slow, appreciative breath. “Yes, it is, Threepio. Because I will make it so.”
“Of course, Master,” Threepio replies, his tone indicating he doesn’t quite understand what Anakin means. “Will you be needing anything else for your morning meal?”
“No, Threepio, we’ll be fine,” Anakin tells him.
“Very good. I will be in the library if you need me.”
As soon as Threepio exits the kitchen, Anakin sets the caf to brew, then rummages through the cupboards, pulling out enough sweet pastries and fruit to feed an entire army of younglings. He’s just finished arranging the food on the table and poured out two cups of caf when the children burst into the room, their hair mussed and still wearing their pyjamas.
“Good morning, Papa!” the twins squeal in unison as they race towards Anakin, each grabbing hold of one of his legs. Anakin laughs as he lifts them both into his arms, hugging them as close as he dares.
“Good morning, my loves,” he says, planting a kiss first on Leia’s forehead, then Luke’s. “But why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“They insisted on coming to see you first,” Padme says as she glides into the room behind them. “And seeing as how you’re not dressed yet either, I thought that was fine.”
Anakin bobs his head, unable to disagree. “You might have a point, Senator,” he says rather cheekily. Then he carefully plops Luke and Leia down onto their chairs and moves around to Padme’s chair, pulling it away from the table with a flourish. “Care to join us for breakfast, my lady?”
“Why, thank you, Master Jedi,” Padme responds, earning a sweet giggle from Leia. Anakin pours a small amount of cream into his wife’s cup of caf as Luke grabs for one of the lemon-filled pastries, biting off a way-too-large piece while Leia looks on with disdain.
“You're gonna choke if you keep doing that,” she says, taking a much more ladylike bite of her own pastry. Luke rolls his eyes, chewing quickly and audibly swallowing.
“Papa, can we go swimming today?” he asks, his blue eyes wide with hope as he stuffs the rest of the pastry into his mouth. A few crumbs dribble down onto his chin, and Anakin can’t help but laugh.
“I think that’s something we can consider,” he says, leaning over to ruffle his son’s hair. “You think you can make it all the way out to the island?”
“He can’t, but I can, Papa!” Leia exclaims. “And I’m way faster too!”
“Are not!” retorts Luke, sticking out his tongue.
“Are too!” says Leia, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “I bet I can swim out to the island before you can even get your toes wet!”
“Well, I bet neither of you could even find the island without your momma’s help, so why don’t we let her take the lead on this one, all right?” Anakin says diplomatically. He glances over at his wife, who’s smiling at him over the rim of her cup. “Swimming is supposed to be good exercise during pregnancy, right?”
Luke and Leia gasp in unison, their eyes as wide as tea saucers. “Really?” Leia asks. “You're going to come too, Momma?”
“Of course, Padme says. She reaches for Leia’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is supposed to be a family vacation, and I don’t want to miss any of it.”
“Yay!” the twins exclaim, their voices in sync as they so often are. Anakin’s heart swells at the sound, the beautiful melody of the family he once came so close to losing forever.
“But first, we all need to finish our breakfast,” Padme continues. She gives Anakin a look, one that suggests she knows exactly where his mind went for a moment. “We want to make sure we have plenty of energy for our family day.”
Without another word, both children dive into their food, stuffing pastries into their mouths and washing them down with their favourite fruit juice, freshly squeezed by C-3PO every morning. Then, after hurriedly getting dressed, Anakin grabs the picnic basket carefully packed by Threepio and they all head outdoors, the warm sun greeting them like an old friend.
“This is exactly what we needed,” he whispers to Padme as their twins race out in front of them, giggling and playfully shoving each other. “Remind me to thank Obi-Wan the next time I speak to him.”
“I will, but I doubt it will be necessary,” answers Padme. “I’m sure he already knows.”
Anakin nods, appreciating that while there’s no way Padme could fully understand the relationship between a Master and his Padawan, she does understand that it runs almost as deep as the relationship between a husband and his wife.
An argument that Anakin just happened to use to defend his marriage to the Jedi Council after the war, aided by not only Obi-Wan, but Ahsoka as well. Both of them had known for a long time that there was something deeper between Anakin and Padme than simple ‘friendship’, and so were able to testify to the council that while Anakin’s marriage may have broken the Jedi Code, it had not in any measurable way affected his work as a Padawan, a Master, or a soldier.
And now, thanks to the revisions they’ve made to that Jedi Code, no future Jedi will ever be denied the option of having a family.
As it should be, Anakin thinks, his fingers instinctively tightening around Padme’s. As it always should have been.
“Momma! Papa! Come on!” Leia calls as she and Luke turn to face them. “The lake is waiting for us!”
“Patience, my darling!” Anakin responds. “The lake will still be there when we arrive!”
Leia scrunches her nose, placing her little hands on her hips. “Now you sound just like Uncle Obi-Wan!”
“Well, there are worse people to emulate,” Anakin says, giving Leia a wink. “Don't worry about us, you two go on ahead.”
“But don't go into the water until we’re all ready, all right?” adds Padme. “Wait for us first.”
“Yes, Momma,” the twins say together, prompting both of their parents to laugh as Luke and Leia run down the grassy hill towards the lake. Anakin and Padme follow behind at a more leisurely pace, their hands swinging together, with Anakin stealing glances at her every few steps, still amazed at her absolutely radiant beauty after all these years.
And even more so in her current condition. The heavy shroud of secrecy that surrounded Padme’s first pregnancy, combined with Anakin’s anguish over his perceived slight by the Jedi Council and his trepidation about Chancellor Palpatine and the ongoing war with the Separatists made it such that he never felt that he could compliment Padme on just how ravishingly beautiful she was during her pregnancy with Luke and Leia.
But now, with Palpatine dead, the Jedi Council restored, and the galaxy’s wounds healing from six long years of war, Anakin never misses an opportunity to rain compliments on his beloved wife, spoiling her with every chance that he gets.
“We need to have more times like this, Ani,” Padme says as they continue along the path. “I know your work on the Council is important, but—”
“But it is also important for Luke and Leia to know where they come from,” Anakin finishes. He chuckles as Luke stoops down to pick up a particularly large purple flower petal, smiling with pride as he causes it to fly directly onto the middle of Leia’s forehead.
“Yes,” says Padme. “I know their Jedi training is very important to you, but—”
“My love,” Anakin gently interrupts, coming to a halt. He cradles Padme’s hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “I was going to tell you later today, but I’ve already spoken to the Council about this.”
Padme’s beautiful brown eyes widen. “You have?”
“Yes,” Anakin murmurs. “And what I’ve requested is for the children—and myself as well—to be allowed to spend all of their recesses from school here, on Naboo. That way they’ll not only be learning the ways of the Force, but also the ways of their Nubian ancestors.” He slides his left arm around Padme’s waist, drawing her closer. “They are royalty, after all.”
“That is true,” Padme says, her lips curled into a soft smile. Her eyes glisten with tears as she adds, “You’ve already discussed this with the Council?”
“Yes, I have, and they have agreed,” Anakin replies. “From now on, we will spend every break that the children have in their studies here, as a family.”
Padme gasps, throwing her arms around Anakin’s neck. “Oh, Anakin, that’s wonderful!” she says into his chest. “It will give us so much more time together!”
“Yes, it will,” Anakin says, kissing the top of Padme’s head. “And it will give Obi-Wan and Snips a good excuse to come and visit as well, so they too can take a break.” He chuckles, thinking about how challenging Ahsoka’s new Padawan has been for her. “I know Snips is already looking forward to visiting after the baby is born.”
“I’m sure she is,” says Padme. Then she leans back, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Thank you, Ani. This is the best news I could hope for.”
Anakin shakes his head, thinking of his earlier dream. “No, my love, don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do for everything I’ve—”
He’s cut off by Padme’s fingers brushing across his lips. “No, Ani, don’t say it.”
“Because it no longer matters,” Anakin finishes. He drops his chin to his chest, giving Padme a rather sheepish grin. “Sometimes I still need reminding.”
“And I will always remind you,” Padme says, gently but firmly. “If only to prove to you that there's no need to berate yourself for things that happened so many years ago.”
Anakin nods, dipping his head to brush a kiss across Padme’s lips. “I love you, Padme,” he whispers. “I love you so much.”
Padme smiles the smile she reserves only for Anakin. “I love you too. Now, I think we had better get down to the lake before the twins try to Force-walk across its surface or something.”
“Knowing them, they’d figure it out, too,” Anakin says, wincing. Taking Padme’s hand again, they resume their leisurely stroll down to the lake, watching happily as Luke and Leia skip down the path ahead of them.
“Momma, Papa, we found the best spot!” Luke calls out a moment later. He points happily to a patch of soft green grass beneath a large, shady tree. “The Force led us right to it!”
“You mean, it led me right to it, since I got here first!” says Leia, Anakin’s heart swelling as he feels the Force humming between her and Luke. “I could see the Force shimmering around it the whole way down!”
“Well, so could I! I just didn’t want Momma and Papa to get lost!” Luke says, scowling. “I was being a gentleman!”
“All right, all right, it doesn’t really matter who got here first, does it?” Padme says diplomatically. “All that matters is that you two found the perfect place to enjoy our picnic.”
Both children look chagrined. “Yes, Momma,” they say.
The rest of the day unfolds like an elusive good dream, one that Anakin wishes he could hold onto forever. As soon as Padme gives them her blessing, Luke and Leia dive in without hesitation, splashing water at each other while urging Anakin and Padme to join them. Anakin relents after only a few seconds, wading into the clear, sun-warmed water, where he’s quickly pounced on by his children, both begging him to toss them over his shoulder.
“Do me first, Papa, do me first!” Luke exclaims, squealing in delight as Anakin tosses him further into the lake. Not to be outdone by her brother, Leia immediately demands to be thrown even higher, saying she wants to be the ‘queen of the lake’.
“I’m afraid that your Momma has already claimed that title, little one,” Anakin says as he gently bops his daughter's perfect nose. “But you can still be the princess of the lake, okay?”
“Well… okay,” Leia says after a few seconds of thought. “I guess Momma can be the queen. But only if Luke’s just a prince too.”
“Nah, I don't need to be a prince,” Luke says, now chasing after a small school of brightly-coloured fish. “I just wanna be a pilot.”
Anakin chuckles as he crouches down by Luke, watching as the fish zig and zag their way below the surface, much like the racing pod he once built. “Think you could pilot one of those fish, little guy?”
Luke’s face lights up. “Oh, yeah, Papa! I’d be the best pilot around, just like you!”
“And hopefully better at landing,” Anakin says as he gives Luke’s soaking wet hair a ruffle. He starts to add that landing a ship is always easier when you’re not getting actively shot down, but stops himself in the nick of time, remembering Padme’s words.
Now isn’t the time to bring up old wars, he reminds himself.
Or any new wars, as it were. While Luke and Leia are both well aware that they have a new brother or sister on the way, Anakin has a strong feeling that the twins haven’t yet fully grasped what it’s going to be like having to share their parents with another sibling.
Anakin is certain that understanding will come in time, though, and so does him little good to worry about it now, during their precious family time.
After splashing, swimming, and playing around in the water for almost two hours, Padme wisely calls the children out to refuel, setting up their picnic under the shade of the large, willowy tree. The twins, still buzzing with energy, take turns telling tales as they eat—Luke certain that he managed to disable a ‘giant water monster’ during one of his reconnaissance missions underwater, and Leia about how she plans to become the first Jedi Knight to serve as Queen of Naboo. Anakin listens intently to their stories, his left arm firmly wrapped around Padme and his heart almost too full to speak. He does manage to get in a story or two of his old pod racing days, and, at Leia’s request, even recounts the story of how he and Padme met, where he genuinely mistook her for one of the mythical angels only ever seen by deep-space pilots.
And then, almost as though a switch was flipped, both Luke and Leia curl up in Anakin’s lap and fall asleep, their heads resting on his chest. His throat tightens as he drops a kiss on the top of each of their heads, then tips his own head back against the tree, closing his eyes as Padme rests her cheek on his shoulder.
“Ani, I know those dreams still haunt you,” she whispers. “I know you still see yourself falling into the net of darkness woven by Palpatine, and being forced to fight against Obi-Wan.”
“Angel—” Anakin starts, halting as Padme’s slender fingers press against his lips.
“Or even Luke and Leia as adults, having never known us, as you said early this morning,” she continues. “But, look around you, Ani. Look at the beauty of this place, the very planet where our children’s ancestors reigned. Look at the family we’ve created together, and are still creating. Look at everything we’ve accomplished, and think of all we can accomplish as long as we’re together.” Padme lifts her head, her fierce brown eyes boring into Anakin’s. “We have fought too hard and for too long for what we have, Ani, and nothing, not one single thing, can ever take that from us.”
Anakin breathes in, letting it out slowly. “Not one thing can take this from us.”
“As long as we’re together,” Padme says, her eyes sparkling in the soft sunlight streaming through the branches of the willow tree. “And since we always will be, then we have nothing to worry about.”
Anakin nods, the ever-present veil of dread lightning slightly on his shoulders. “All right,” he whispers as Padme snuggles close to him again. Then he leans back against the tree and closes his eyes, giving in to his body’s desperate plea for rest. By the time he wakes, the sun has begun to set in a brilliant hue of pinks and oranges mirrored on the surface of the lake, and their entire picnic area is covered in sticks and flower petals, with Luke, Padme, and Leia all wearing matching flower crowns. Padme, helping the twins to pack up the picnic basket, smiles as Luke uses the Force to summon a napkin from its hiding place behind a clump of wildflowers, giving it to Leia to fold and place in the basket. Then she turns to look at Anakin, her smile widening as she nods her head towards the twins.
“Go ahead, he’s awake now,” she says encouragingly.
Luke turns to Anakin, his big blue eyes pleading as he says, “Papa? We made you a crown too. Would you like to wear it?” Leia, Anakin’s flower crown in hand, steps up next to her brother, her expression of childish innocence and wonder causing a lump to form in Anakin’s throat.
“Of course I’ll wear it!” he says. He leans forward to allow Leia to place the crown on his head, smiling widely as he straightens back up. “It’s perfect, my darling. Thank you!”
“Now you’re the king, Papa,” Leia says proudly. “Momma’s the queen, I’m the princess, and Luke’s the prince.”
“And the new baby will be a prince or princess too,” adds Luke. “But Momma told us it would be a good idea to wait until the baby’s a bit older before we make another crown.”
“That’s because your Momma is very wise,” Anakin says, giving Padme a wink. “And you are also wise to listen to her.”
The twins nod, shifting on their feet. “Momma also told us that we’ll get to tell the baby all about Naboo, and that’s going to be so much fun!” says Leia.
“Only because you’re going to be wonderful teachers,” Anakin says proudly. “The new baby is going to be so lucky to have you two for a big brother and sister.”
Luke shrugs. “Well, Momma says it’s going to be fun, and since Momma never lies, I guess we have to believe her,” he says. Then he glances over at his sister, who gives him a nod. “We do have one more question though.”
“Oh?” Anakin asks. “And what’s that?”
“Can we come back here tomorrow?” Luke asks eagerly. “Please, please, please?”
Anakin looks over at Padme, who gives him his special smile. Anakin returns the grin as he holds open his arms for his children, both of whom clamber onto his lap.
“Of course we can come back tomorrow, and even the day after, if you want to,” he tells them. “And when your new brother or sister is born and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka come to visit, we can show all of them this place as well. All right?”
The children nod, knocking their crowns askew. “Thank you, Papa!” Leia says happily. “We can’t wait!”
“Mmm,” Anakin says as he buries his nose in his children’s hair, feeling the Force humming all around them. “I can’t either!”
“But now, I think it’s time to head back to the house,” Padme says after a moment’s silence. “Baths, dinner, and then bedtime.”
“Okay, Momma,” the twins say in unison.
Gathering the children into his arms, Anakin stands to his feet, allowing Padme to lead them back to the house. Once inside, they work together to bathe the twins and get them into their pyjamas, then sit down to a delicious dinner prepared by their cook, during which Luke and Leia tell Anakin all about their hunt for the flowers they wove into their crowns. By the time their meal is finished, both twins are nearly falling asleep at the table, and put up no resistance to their parents tucking them into their beds for the night.
“Goodnight, my little prince and princess,” Anakin whispers as he kisses each of their foreheads. “May your dreams be as beautiful and precious as you are to me.”
“Goodnight, Papa,” Luke and Leia say together, their twin sibling bond even stronger than their exhaustion. “I love you.”
Exiting the children’s bedroom, Anakin walks through the house to the balcony off of his and Padme’s chambers, where he finds Padme standing by the railing. Nostalgia hits him like a blaster shot as he steps up beside her, vividly remembering how they shared their first awkward kiss in this very spot, back when Anakin was still a lowly Padawan.
But instead of remarking on it, Anakin simply wraps his arms around his wife and draws her close, resting his palms on her rounded belly. He gasps as their unborn baby greets his touch with a well-placed kick, pressing a kiss to Padme’s cheek.
“Our baby is as strong as you, Angel,” he whispers. Padme responds by squeezing his left hand, her eyes closed as she leans back against him. Anakin takes the hint and looks out over the water, allowing the stars glinting in the twilight sky and the peace emanating from his wife to envelop him.
While he had come so perilously close to losing it all—his love, his children, his very soul—to the darkness Palpatine had woven around him, in the end, he hadn’t. Because, in the very nick of time, Anakin realised that the path to light and love isn’t required to pass through darkness first. That despite his perceived snub by the Jedi Council, he could in fact trust Mace Windu to help him confront the Sith Lord Palpatine, a confrontation that ultimately resulted in the Chancellor’s death.
And, despite Ahsoka’s tearful departure from the Jedi Order, Anakin could still count on her to be where he needed her to be, when he needed her to be there.
Which just so happened to be alongside Rex during Palpatine’s fateful attempt to initiate Order 66, what he’d intended to be the final fail-safe in his quest to destroy the Jedi. Ahsoka and Rex’s heroic efforts to overcome the clones’ secret programming saved countless lives, allowing the Jedi Order to rebuild itself after the war instead of being forced to start over from scratch.
“Everything is as it should be, Ani,” Padme suddenly murmurs, as though she read Anakin’s mind. “Do not be afraid.”
Anakin breathes in, inhaling the decadent scent of his wife’s hair, honeysuckle and lavender, with just the faintest touch of gardenia.
“I’m not afraid,” he softly answers, after a few moment’s pause. “I’m at peace.”
Because despite what his subconscious might want him to believe, Anakin no longer has reason to be afraid. For long ago, he chose family over fear, peace over war, serenity over rage.
Light, over darkness.
And, in doing so, helped to usher in a new hope for the entire galaxy. A galaxy in which he was proud to call himself not only Jedi Knight, but also husband, father, friend, and, most of all, Anakin Skywalker.