Author's Note: This is inspired by Follow the Light, and heavily influenced by Yoda's Shadow.
It was originally just an AU that branched off just before Mace's death, but I couldn't do anything that simple. Hence this first chapter. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it serves its function.
The first scene is just before the party storms the palace on Naboo, as an extension of the scene where Qui-Gon kneels down and tells Anakin to hide when they get inside. The others should be recognizable, even if they're slightly different.
Chapter 1: Ripples
Qui-Gon started to stand up, but he hesitated. This was not the best time for a full discussion of Jedi philosophy, but his instincts were telling him to try.
He trusted his instincts. They'd never led him astray.
So he knelt back down in front of the boy and ignored the impatient looks from the others.
"Anakin. What we're doing is dangerous. Any of us could die. If that happens, remember this: It is the will of the Force. Do not grieve, no matter who it is. It does not do to care too much. Attatchment is a path to evil."
He stood up again, and drew his lightsaber. The group took the hint, and they moved out.
"It must be difficult to be a Jedi. To be unable to go where you want, do what you like..." Padme trailed off into silence.
Anakin looked away from her. "Those aren't the hard part."
"They aren't? Then what is?"
He looked down at his food. "The hardest part is releasing attatchments."
"What do you mean?"
"A Jedi does care for anyone. It leads to the dark side. I... I find that near impossible."
"They care for nothing at all? That doesn't sound like what I know."
"They care about truth, justice, freedom. They care about the galaxy. Never about individuals."
"And you can't do that?"
"I care about the galaxy. I can't stop caring about those important to me."
"Your master?"
"Yes, and others. I still love my mother, I still miss Obi-Wan, I-" He broke off, and glanced at her.
Most people would have ignored that glance. Most would have dismissed it as unimportant. Across the galaxy, very few would find it at all significant.
Padmé had spent the last decade learning to read expressions. She could read emotions hidden deeply behind walls and locked doors.
This one was in the open. This one begged for understanding.
He loved her. It was as clear as if he'd said it.
Anakin held his mother's body, and he wept.
When the tears were merely salt on his cheeks, he laid her tenderly down and stood up.
The Sandpeople would die for what they had done.
The men, the warriors, were merely corpses in his trail. He had reached the children, huddling in their tents. They would grow to be monsters. He should kill them while they were still defenseless.
No. Killing the men, that had been justice. That was acceptable. Killing the children... That would be vengence.
He turned around and left them shivering.
"Anakin?"
He turned to look at her. The crowd's roar faded into unimportance.
"Anakin... I love you, Anakin. And... I know you want to be loyal to the Jedi, but- We're about to die, Anakin. Could you say it, just once?"
He hesitated. Qui-Gon's last advice flitted through his head.
Did it matter anymore?
"I love you, Padmé."
"I'm going to end this!"
"No! He should stand trial!"
"He's too dangerous!"
"This is not the Jedi way!"
"I must!"
The universe seemed to freeze for a moment, as Mace's lightsaber descended. Anakin found himself staring, trying to decide.
He couldn't live without Padmé. He couldn't. All his efforts to root out his love for her had failed dismally. To have her die was unthinkable.
He moved the hand holding his lightsaber hilt towards Mace's, but still he hesitated.
He could feel Qui-Gon behind him, watching, judging.
Attatchment is a path to evil.
He couldn't let go of her.
Then the thought came, as if from somewhere else.
What would Padmé say to do?
There was no more doubt. She would say, let me die, so that the universe may live in peace. So that our child can grow without fear.
The Sith must die.
His hand completed its motion, poised to sever Mace's hand, but his blade was off. Mace's wrist passed through only air, and his blade crashed into the Sith. Palpatine, his friend the Dark Lord, cried out in pain and exploded.
It wasn't a very big explosion. It knocked the Jedi down, it carried traces of Force Lightning, but it was bearable. It was nothing compared to Anakin's new burden.
If Padmé was destined to die, there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Not without Palpatine.