It's Your Life
Summary: Master Windu. Chancellor Palpatine. In front of the window, close to death, they argue for your allegiance, swearing the other is the traitor. But you can't be controlled by them any longer – you are the Chosen One, and it's your life now. . .
Rating: K
Genre: angst
Canon Character(s): Anakin Skywalker ; Mace Windu ; Palpatine/Darth Sidious (I mention Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala too)
OC Character(s): none
Set During: RotS
Notes: This fic centers on the moment when Anakin is standing at the threshold of the Chancellor's office and is deciding between Mace Windu and Palpatine/Darth Sidious. We all know how it comes out, but this is my take on it. And, just as a warning, it's in second person, so if you have issues about reading things in second person . . . you are warned.
Also, the lyrics I use in this fic belong to "It's Your Life" by Francesca Battistelli.
You vault out the speeder, run full tilt down the corridor, dash up the stairs four steps at a time, push yourself harder than you've ever pushed yourself before. . . You have to reach them before it's too late – for Palpatine, for Master Windu, for Padmé. You have to, because otherwise the only way of saving her and her child – your child – will die with Palpatine when Master Windu kills him; you just know it, somehow, just as you know that she will die if Palpatine dies.
Finally, with a stitch in your side, you burst into the Chancellor's office.
Master Windu. Palpatine.
Dueling.
Light versus dark. Jedi versus Sith. Man who defied you the way to save Padmé and man who offered you the way to save Padmé.
But they are equal. That, you can sense as clearly as the difference between day and night – for right now, there is no difference between the day and the night. They are together perhaps the twilight or the dawn, neither day nor night but somewhere in between. Alone, they can at best get a standstill.
Because, you know, just as clearly as you saw the equality of their strength, that while alone, they can only achieve a standstill, that you and you alone will decide which way the victory will go, and whether the Jedi or the Sith will win even though really they are sometimes one and the same and no different from the other, and whether Padmé will live or die.
This is the moment
It's on the line
Which way you gonna fall?
Because this is your moment.
This is the moment.
The moment I had to make my choice, and either fulfill or doom the prophecy of the Chosen One.
In the middle between
Wrong and right
But you know after all
"He is a traitor, Anakin," Palpatine tells you, falling frail and exhausted to the ground, his face white with pain and skin wrinkled with age as blue-white lightning pours from his fingers. His eyes are yellow – the yellow of the tattooed Sith of your nightmares, bright, vivid, horrifying yellow that made you scream in nightmares for days on end after Naboo.
"He's the traitor. Stop him!" Mace Windu orders you, his face tight with concentration as he tries to shield himself from the lightning. His eyes were narrowed, and there is darkness dancing in them, a darkness that makes you fear for Palpatine's life as you fear for Padmé's.
"Come to your senses, boy," Palpatine calls. "The Jedi are in revolt. They will betray you, just as they betrayed me."
You look from one to the other as they argue for your allegiance. Both claim that they are right and it is the other who is wrong, and that you must act now to help them win the battle and claim victory.
And yet . . .
And yet you don't want to act.
You want to take the middle road. You want to. You know that a Sith Lord in control of the Republic is not a good thing, but you also know that that same Sith Lord may be the only way to save your beloved Padmé.
You want to take the middle road, between them, between right and wrong.
That way, you don't have to choose.
And yet, deep down in your heart, the dead star-dragon of your nightmares whispers that in fact, you know already who you have sided with.
It's your life
What you gonna do?
The world is watching you
Mace Windu and Palpatine. Two different men. Two different ideals. Two different choices.
Both want you to choose them.
But one thing still nags at you about this.
When you choose, whoever you choose, if you choose, it will be more than just a choice between light and dark, right and wrong, Jedi and Sith. Everyone will watch you choose, everyone will suffer and benefit from your choosing, and essentially the fate of the entire world rests on your shoulder. And at the center of your choice is Padmé's life, hanging in the balance of the lives of Palpatine and Windu.
But when it all boils down to the bare minimum, the choice will be for your life.
Your life.
Not Palpatine's, not Mace's, not even Padmé's. Yours. No one else's.
Every day the choices you make
Say what you are and who
Your heart beats for
It's an open door
You've made choices every single day, even when you were a slave, and sometimes it's been good and sometimes it's turned out bad. But you've never made them for yourself. Ever. You chose to left Tatooine, not for yourself, but for Qui-Gon and your mother.
Certainly, that choice – and all the other choices – helped define you, shape you, change you – but they never were you.
They merely represented who you were: a person who acted in compassion to choose the choice for whomever your heart beat for. Obi-Wan always said you were an open book; even Padmé agrees. You chose for the person or people you loved, always, and that trait defined you in every possible way. The Jedi hate you for it, the Sith are confused by it – but you know it is who you are. Even if you are an open door they want to use.
Because you know that this is really just another choice that will define you . . . and be chosen because of the one you love.
It's your life
But now you look back and wonder . . .
What if you had chosen differently? What if things had traveled a different path? What if?
What if you had chosen for yourself, for your life?
Because it is, after all, your life.
Are you who you always said you would be?
With a sinking feeling in your chest
Always waiting for someone else to fix you
Tell me when did you forget
It's your life
That makes you question everything, absolutely everything, that has happened with the start of your first choice.
You remember . . . once, you promised your mother that when you left with Qui-Gon Jinn, you would go to Coruscant and become a Jedi good enough to make her proud and then you would return and free all the slaves and chase off all the criminals and slave dealers and Hutts with your lightsaber blazing. And all the slaves would be free, and your mother would live in comfort, and you would be immortalized forever. . . And Padmé would look at you, and admire you, and love you.
With a gut-punching, head-reeling, heart-rendering feeling, you realize that you broke that promise.
It was the only thing your mother ever truly wanted, and you denied it to her. In the end, it was your stepfather who freed her, and married her, and loved her. Your stepfather. Not you.
You remember also begging Obi-Wan, begging your teachers, begging the Council to let you go to see her, just see her, you swore you wouldn't do anything else.
But they refused.
And now you wonder why you let that stop you.
It was your mother, your right, your life. You fought everyone, you refused everyone, you disobeyed everyone, from Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and your mother all the way down to Gardulla the Hutt and Watto and Greedo.
So why did you forget that it was your right to choose the path your life would take?
What you gonna do?
The world is watching you
Every day the choices you make
Say what you are and who
Your heart beats for
It's an open door
"I am your pathway to power. I have the power to save the one you love," Palpatine reminds you, his voice at once strong and pleading. "You must choose. You must stop him."
"Don't listen to him, Anakin," Windu groans, his eyes flickering in agony.
And now, another chance to choose stands before you. Everyone is watching yet again, and the choice will once again represent you by telling the entire world, the universe, the Force itself who you are, because Padmé is your life and she is the only one your heart has ever and will ever beat for. You are an open book because of that, but that openness has led to this open door, the opportunity, this choice.
It's your life
To live the way that you believe
This is your opportunity
To let your life be one that lights the way
"Help me! Don't let him kill me. I can't hold on any longer."
Palpatine's voice is tainted with pain, and he screams occasionally. He is losing, and he is dying.
You remember the sound of someone dying.
You remember it vividly.
You remember it all.
Because once your mother lay before you too, frail and weak and desperate, speaking to you in a voice that was strong despite the prominence of death. Her voice was tainted with pain too. She was losing too. She was dying too. And she haunted your dreams for weeks on end, before and after with her death.
You swore then that you'd never rest until you became strong enough to hold back death, so you wouldn't fail another dying loved one.
You don't love Palpatine. But you also don't love Windu.
You do love Padmé.
So you have to make the choice. You have to follow what you promised and what you believed.
This is your opportunity, and it might be your only opportunity to do that – to save Padmé. You have the be the one to discover how to save people, to learn the ways of the Sith, to prove it can be done. You have be the one to lead the way.
You have to save Padmé.
It's your life
What you gonna do?
The world is watching you
Every day the choices you make
Say what you are and who
Your heart beats for
It's an open door
"I can't . . . I give up," Palpatine gasps, and suddenly the lightning stops pouring from his fingers. He cowers against the skylight, once again an old, frail, helpless man – so much so that you can almost forget the deadly show of lightning and the dead bodies of the Jedi Masters behind you.
"Help me," he pleads, turning to you with weak outstretched hands. "I am weak. . . I am too weak. Don't kill me. I give up. I'm dying. I can't hold on any longer."
"You Sith disease," Windu snarls, his face a mask of fury and triumph. "I am going to end this once and for all."
That is when you realize that despite the fact that you are an open book, no one can truly read that book.
Palpatine can't see how close you are to interfering with this; even now he pleads for your aid even though deep down inside you know that you will not let him die. And Windu never expected you to intercede; even now, he ignores you as he delivers his verdict – he doesn't even acknowledge your presence, even though you were the distraction that allowed him to win.
Weakly, you protest, "You can't kill him, Master. He must stand trial."
Windu doesn't even look at you – but you can tell that your response was unexpected even though it is ignored. "He has too much control of the Senate and the Courts. He is too dangerous to be kept alive," he snaps back.
That last sends a jolt through your system.
You know those words.
Palpatine himself said them . . . once, long ago . . . or at least it seems long ago, when you went to execute Dooku.
A Sith and a Jedi say the same things about each other. How ironic.
And how disturbing.
If they can say the same things, you think, and about each other, are they really that different as the Jedi have always taught? Or are they really just the same people who have different opinions on the Force, as Palpatine told me?
"I'm too weak. Don't kill me. Please," Palpatine begs.
You have never seen him beg before.
"It is not the Jedi way," you tell Windu, as he has told you many times, spurred on by Palpatine's show of weakness, for you would never expect such a good man, such a noble man, such a strong man to ever beg. Even when cowering at the foot of a Jedi sworn to kill him, stripped of his illusions, his defenses battered away from him, you would never expect Palpatine to ever beg anyone. Ever.
It's your life
Windu ignores you, again.
And as his muscles tense, his jaw sets, and the Force gathers around him, you realize he isn't planning to ever listen to you. He's made his own choice. He will kill Palpatine, if you don't stop him. He will. No matter what you say.
You realize then, as the Force has told you all along, that this choice is more than Jedi versus Sith, light against dark, right or wrong.
It's about your life.
It's your life.
And your life is Padmé.
Windu moves forward, his blade heading straight for Palpatine's heart.
And you act.
With one quick slice, his arm is gone.
And within three blinks of your eyes, Windu is gone as well.
It's your life
You stagger backwards, stunned, dazed, confused. You don't understand. You can't understand.
An arm lies before you.
Or . . . what used to be an arm.
Because its owner will never use it – or any arm – ever again.
"What have I done?"
It's you who are speaking, but it doesn't sound like you. For the rest of your life, you will examine this moment over and over and over again until it, along with everything else, fades – but you will never be able to reconcile those four words with yourself.
Palpatine calmly stands. "You are fulfilling your destiny, Anakin. Become my apprentice. Learn to use the dark side of the Force," he urges.
You hesitate for only a fraction of a second.
You have to save Padmé.
"I will do whatever you ask," you promise.
Palpatien smiles. "Good."
But you're not done yet. You need something from him in return.
"Just help me save Padme's life. I can't live without her. I won't let her die." You pause and lock eyes with him. This is your one request. This is your most important request. "I want the power to stop death."
Palpatine says slowly, "To cheat death is a power only one has achieved, but if we work together, I know we can discover the secret."
You sigh in relief. If you can get that, anything is worth it.
You kneel before Palpatine. "I pledge myself to your teachings. To the ways of the Sith," you promise.
You know you're breaking your promise to the Jedi – but who cares? You've broken promises before, and you've broken them because of the Jedi. After all, you swore to see your mother again . . . and the Jedi kept you from doing so. Besides, you cannot say that the Jedi, the nameless, faceless, weakling Jedi, mean more to you than Padmé. Because they never will.
"Good. Good. The Force is strong with you. A powerful Sith you will become. Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth . . . Vader."
Palpatine's words fall upon you with crushing strength – and relieving lightness. You will no longer be a Jedi – you will no longer be "Anakin Skywalker" the "Hero With No Fear". That punch is stronger than you expected. But you will save Padmé. And that relief is better than anything else.
You crush the dead star-dragon of fear under your heel.
It is dead. It is dead. It is dead.
It will haunt you no more, because Padmé will live and together you will rule the galaxy.
Because then Palpatine says, "We must move quickly. The Jedi are relentless; if they are not all destroyed, it will be civil war without end. First, I want you to go to the Jedi Temple. We will catch them off balance. Do what must be done, Lord Vader. Do not hesitate. Show no mercy. Only then will you be strong enough with the dark side to save Padme."
And you do not flinch. "What about the other Jedi spread across the galaxy?"
He replies, "Their betrayal will be dealt with. After you have killed all the Jedi in the Temple, go to the Mustafar system. Wipe out Viceroy Gunray and the other Separatist leaders. Once more, the Sith will rule the galaxy, and we shall have peace."
And you believe him.
Now, you will be at peace.
Now, Padmé will live.
Now, it will truly be your life.
It's your life
It is only later, when Padmé is dead, that you realize just how much of your life she is.
And then you realize that this time things went so wrong for one overwhelming simple reason you failed to see. Before, you had always made your choices with your heart – you had made them for the people you cared for, who you loved.
This time, you chose with your mind.
You chose Palpatine. You chose the Sith.
You chose wrong.
Because when you made that choice, you didn't make it for Padmé.
You made it for yourself. Not for anyone else. And especially not for anyone you cared for.
You wanted Palpatine's power. You wanted to rule the Sith. You wanted to dominate the galaxy.
You wanted to prove that you were the most powerful person alive, Jedi or Sith.
You wanted power.
Not for her.
For you.
And so, to protect that power, you closed her lying throat and stared into her lying eyes and tossed her to the ground – and then you killed her.
You killed Padmé.
You killed Padmé.
You killed Padmé.
And now you find that your life is dead . . . but you keep living, contained in a black box of a suit as flames chew on your flesh and pain is your only companion.
This is your life.
Padmé is dead, and she was your life. But then you killed her.
You open your eyes, and see the black box of a suit with machines making up more of your body than flesh and learn that your most loved person in your entire life is dead and know that for the rest of your life you will be in agony, mentally, physically, emotionally, and then you realize that you would rather be a slave for the rest of your life because then at least they would put an end to your misery.
And yet you have to keep living, because you made the choice that doomed the galaxy, that doomed Padmé, that doomed yourself.
It's your life.
Now and forever.
The End