AN – This is my vision of what Anakin and Padmé's reunion in the Force would be. The parts of the story in normal text are Anakin's POV. The parts in italics are Padmé's POV. A vignette, originally published about eleven years ago on , under my Star Wars alias, Jedi Linewalker. As always, feel free to read, review and let me know what you think!
The sound of the breathing apparatus, straining to keep me alive, is strong in my ear, and the feeling of Luke's…my son's…shoulder in my stomach is very real. I can hear the sounds of the Death Star rocking and things exploding. There is pure chaos all around us, and still, my son carries me towards an Imperial shuttle.
He's carried me all the way from the throne room to this bay, dodging the rushing bodies of the troops, and other officers, on board this space faring, over sized symbol of the Emperor's greed, more than his power. He collapses from the strain at the entry ramp, breathing heavily, and trying to regain his strength. I can't let him do what he's trying to do. He'll die if he keeps trying to get me aboard this shuttle.
I have no other choice. I have to speak, and I do, my voice sounding hollow to my own ears, "Luke, help me take this mask off." The lenses of my mask show my son's face quite well, in its electronic way. His face shows the horror that that statement represents to him.
"But you'll die," he says quietly, his blue eyes looking over the grim visage of the demon that's chased him for the past six years. The visage of the demon that is his every nightmare. The visage of the demon that is his father.
A couple of labored breaths, from us both, pass because I haven't the strength to speak immediately, but I do find my voice. In the most reasoning tone I can muster, I look him in the eye, intently. "Nothing can stop that now." My breathing is growing more ragged by the moment. The apparatus is failing. "Just for once…let me look on you with my own eyes."
Luke, my son, my son the Jedi Knight, the savior of his father, looks at me for a moment. I can feel the thoughts ticking away in his mind. Finally, he nods softly twice, and reaches up with great hesitation and deliberateness, and removes the helmet, and then the mask. I can see the horror in his eyes for that split second as he first looks on my horribly burned and scarred face. He regains his calm quickly, but I saw it, it was there. And he deserved that moment of horror in the face of his father.
Though my eyes barely focus, and everything is hazy, I can feel the air on my skin for the first time in years, without being in my specially pressurized chamber. The injectors of the apparatus are near my nostrils and my mouth lies halfway behind the modulation and amplification grille. Able to see my son's face, as it truly is, for the first time, I smile. How very proud of him I am.
How very proud indeed. If I were able, I'd push him towards the shuttle, but as I can't, I try not to cough, and wheeze out, "Now…go, my son. Leave me." My strength is failing fast. Destroying Palpatine took everything I had left. The Force Lightning he struck me with even as I threw him down the shaft is finally taking its toll. The Dark Side is a cruel and snarling Master, demanding it's due, and my time has come to pay that due.
Luke stares at me, and I can see his eyes growing wider, and before he even speaks, I can hear the rising pitch of his voice. "No. You're coming with me." His eyes search mine, and move over my scarred and bald head, my sunken eyes, my ravaged skin, and his voice grows a bit more desperate. "I can't leave you here. I've got to save you."
Obi-Wan, my former Master, my old friend, my old enemy, you did truly teach my son well. He's the epitome of what a Jedi is supposed to be. He succeeded, where I failed you. Thankfully the expression "like father, like son" is not always accurate.
"You already have, Luke," I said weakly. My voice is growing faint, and I can hear the sudden rush of air and sound that often precedes death by moments, so I've been led to believe. I fight for just a few breaths more. "You were right about me. Tell your sister…you were right."
His eyes widen and he almost shakes me by the shoulders. The sight of him, with a halo of black closing quickly in on him greets my eyes with an overly cheerful advance. Though he can see I'm quickly dying, though he knows I probably won't last to hear all his words, he speaks anyway, quietly. "Father…I won't leave you."
My body shudders, and the breathing apparatus only hisses, as it's no longer pumping air to lungs. My body is dead weight, a desiccated remnant of what used to be a man, encased in black padded armor. Darth Vader, and Anakin Skywalker, are both dead.
It's strange here, though I'm not even sure where you'd classify "here" as being. This place has no name, it's simply the Force, in it's prime and purest embodiment. My home is now the universe. My spirit moves freely where it wishes. Time seems to speed up or slow down depending on your will.
Far from being a Jedi, I've learned that all beings become one with the Force upon their death, and replenish the great energy field that binds the galaxy together. Yet, some Jedi, and very rarely, some non-Jedi with sufficiently strong wills can keep their consciousness and identity after they come here. Master Qui-Gon Jinn told me I was one of those rare few.
How long has it been? How long since I died on that cold table at Polis Massa, and merged with the Force, and heard Qui-Gon tell me that we'd look after Luke and Leia, and we'd guide Anakin back to the light? I don't know, but as I watch my son, Luke, with his father in the hangar of that horrid Death Star, I can tell it's been at least twenty years.
How handsome he's grown to be. In many ways, he looks like Anakin. If I had tears to cry, I would, listening to Luke's exchange with his father. So much hate, so much anger. No wonder the Jedi teach their padawans that such things will kill you. Here's living…or rather, dying proof of it right here.
I glance down at my hands, which I only have because I choose to see them. It's an interpretation of the Force that Qui-Gon says I can understand, thus that's why I see them. It's why I feel things as if I were alive, though I know I'm not. Though I've known this moment was coming, I've been dreading it, trying to will it and wish it away, not wanting to see it, but here it is, and as my Anakin said…nothing can stop that now.
I can feel the surge of energy, and feel the light as Anakin's life force merges with the Force. I can feel him all around me. I can see Obi-Wan and Master Yoda moving to help him, to guide him to learn how to control himself here. I doubt he can see me yet, or Qui-Gon for that matter, who's standing right beside me. We're some distance away, though I couldn't tell you how far. It looks like only a few meters, but it could be an entire universe away. It certainly feels like it.
How I want to run to him, and hold him, and rock him and assure him things will be all right, like I used to do when he'd have a nightmare. Like I used to do when he'd sneak out of the Temple and come stay with me at our apartment. But I can't, because this is something he has to learn, and learn how to deal with, on his own. I can't be there to help him, not this time. I've watched him suffer alone for so many years, I've seen him endure things no living being should ever have to endure, and my eyes feel like they sting with tears for not being able to help him now, that he's finally here, either.
What they say about a light is true. It's almost blinding here, it's so bright. This is what it's like to be joined as one with the Force. Looking down, I can see my hands, my real hands, like they were before Dooku's lightsaber cut. My body is whole, and complete, like it was before my duel with Obi-Wan on Mustafar, and I was dismembered by his blade, and burned alive by the lava.
Obi-Wan. He's here, with me. I can see him. And I can see Master Yoda, as well. I recall wondering as a young man if the aged Jedi would ever die, or would he simply live forever, like the Force? I laugh, softly, but heartily. I feel joy! I feel everything as being right, or as close to right as it can get.
Obi-Wan and Yoda are talking to me, teaching me things about how to commune with the living, how to manifest, and how to keep my identity, but I'm only half listening. I sense another presence nearby. I can sense life all around us, of course, the life forces of men and women that have died and become one with the Force, but this is different.
"What is it, Anakin?" asks Obi-Wan, studying me intently, noticing that, like in life, I'm only halfway paying attention. His hand, though I know its not really there, is comforting. His eyes are as blue here as they were in life, and full of the same warmth and compassion that somehow I managed to miss when I was his padawan.
"I sense something…someone. Another familiar presence, close by," I answer softly, trying to stretch out with my senses as I had in life. I'm amazed at how awkward my use of the Force is here, but is that because it's truly that different than how it was in life, or is it because of the two decades and more I've spent in service to the Dark Side?
Obi-Wan smiles gently and pats my shoulder again. "Everything in it's time, Anakin. You must be patient. Right now, we have something important to do." He began lightly tugging at me, and mystified, I followed.
"Important to do?" I ask, rather confusedly. This was something I simply couldn't fathom at the moment. What can the dead actually have to do, anyway? "What can we do? We're dead."
A soft, rumbling little laughter that is so familiar to my ears found my attention. "To Obi-Wan, you listen, Anakin," grunted Master Yoda, appearing mature, but much younger than I'd ever seen him. I think that was the first time I ever heard him refer to me by my first name. "Important, this is. Strengthen you, it will."
More than a little skeptical, I followed Yoda and Obi-Wan. They instructed me to concentrate and focus my being, and allow the light to take me, and I'd go where I needed to go. A simple matter of willing my consciousness to be somewhere, Obi-Wan said.
I found myself in a village in the trees, and I thought Wookiees, at first, until I saw the small furry creatures dancing around in joyous celebration. It was a celebration, a celebration for the destruction of the Empire. Humans and aliens alike peppered the large village as far as I could see. Some faces I knew and recognized, some I didn't.
A figure in black broke off from the main cluster, and came to the walkway just in front of us. Whatever had been obscuring the light moved, and I could see his face. Luke, exactly as I'd seen him just what I assume were hours ago with my own eyes, looking the same, but also different.
He appeared to see us, we three Jedi, once living and now dead, because he smiled, and he looked right at me. His smile turned wistful, but there was something different in his eyes. He knew. He knew that he'd saved me, that he'd redeemed me, that I'd come back to the Light. That I'd come home.
My own smile grew, as did the smiles of the other masters with which I shared company, and as I turned back to look at Luke again, a woman had come to put her hands on his shoulders, and appeared to be asking him if things were alright. This is the first time I've seen my daughter, Leia, since I found out that she was my daughter. I'd neglected to notice when I was torturing her a few years ago how much like her mother she looked. The thought was too painful. I should have known, but I suffered far more later having learned it.
Finally, our task is complete. It felt good to know that my son, and hopefully my daughter, would need us, and would talk to us from time to time. At least I could rest…or could I? The one person I needed to apologize to the most, the one person I needed to see the most, was forever denied me.
Obi-Wan guided me back to where I was, at least I think it's where I was, and when I materialized, or coalesced, or whatever you'd call it, I was alone. Alone with the presence I'd been feeling. But it couldn't be who I felt that it was, could it? I was terrified, to tell the truth. What if I was right, after all?
Qui-Gon hasn't been gone that long. He went to join Yoda and Obi-Wan. We'd been following Anakin and the others, though he didn't know it. Leia saw him, as Luke did, I know, but she's angry still. I can't blame her, after all, he did torture her, and treat her like the inhuman monster he'd become. But he's not like that anymore, he's Anakin Skywalker again, not Darth Vader. I hope that she'll come to see that soon. At least Luke understands, but then again, he watched Anakin die. Of course he understands.
Every mother's dream came true for me, knowing over the years that my children grew up and found happy, productive lives…and found each other. I couldn't have asked for a more loving place to put Leia than with Bail, my best friend, and his wife. They loved her as I would have. Owen and Beru weren't blood, but they were the closest thing to family that Anakin had. Further, they loved Luke, even if Owen had his own particular ways of going about showing it, it could be felt. Though they were apart, Luke and Leia had a good life, and now will have an even better one.
I'm taken back to a time years ago, when Ani and I were both young, the first time I saw Ani in Jedi robes, when he and Obi-Wan came to my apartment to assist me with security, when the assassination attempts were at their height. As I felt then, I feel now, and to see him, the breath that my mind insists I don't have is catching in my throat…which my mind insists doesn't exist either.
He looked so handsome then, so young, and I remember having to push him out of my mind more than once. Then we fell in love, got married, and he went off to fight in the wars. He looks like he did just before he left, with his hair long, thick and wavy in that odd, unruly way his hair has always had. Yet, there seems something much different about him, too. Something in the way he carries himself, or something in the eyes, maybe.
He can't see me, but I know he feels me. Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Qui-Gon all said he would. I'm surprised it's taken this long, or is he as fidgety and nervous as I am? He's walking towards me, following the feeling of my presence, and it is something in his eyes. A greater maturity, a wisdom and a compassion similar to Obi-Wan's eyes is what I see there.
How will I react? What will I say, what will I do? For that matter, how will he react, and what will he say and do?
I know it's her. I can feel her. Walking towards her presence, it gets stronger and stronger. I finally pause and look around, though what I expect to see is beyond me. There's nothing here but mist, light, darkness, and wherever in the galaxy I wish to be when the mist clears.
Clearing my throat, as if it needs it, and looking around once more, I call out into the ephemera, "Padmé?"
The sound of his voice is startling, so like it was in life. Doing as Qui-Gon taught me, I concentrate really hard, and make myself visible to him. That look in his eyes…intense as it always was, but what will he do now? He looked like this just before he choked me, too.
Finding my voice, speaking quietly, regarding him with mild anxiety, I answer, "I'm here, Ani."
By the Force itself, she's as beautiful as I remember. She's shimmering into sight now, and her beauty is unchanged, unmarred…not corrupted and scarred as I left her soul feeling, I'm sure. I've not seen her face in two decades and more, yet here she is, before me now. What do I do? What do I say?
My voice being much steadier than my soul is, I smile, reaching out to gently take her hands. "Padmé, there's so much I want…so much I need…to say to you." Looking down at her hands, I can see she still wears the small ring we got her to wear after we were married, the not so obvious wedding band. "Will you please hear me out?"
I can feel his hands, really feel them, when he takes mine. His voice, gentle, sincere, in many ways like I remember it, and in many ways not. He's looking at my ring. I have to smile every time I think of that ring, because I smile about what it signifies.
His request is reasonable, and I feel it's sincere. Of course it is, or he couldn't be here. Trying not to tremble, which is a neat trick for a ghost, I reply, "Ani, there's a lot that needs to be said, yes. I'll listen, if you'll talk…and I need you to listen, too, please?"
I can feel my lips moving upwards in a smile, and I rest my forehead against hers, so comforting and real, more real to me than anything here. My fingers squeeze her hands gently and I look into those beautiful brown eyes that always haunted my dreams, whispering, "Negotiations are open, you mean?"
I was joking, and I realize as soon as I say it that it's a bad joke. I'm really racking up the points here, let me tell you. "I was only kidding. It was a joke, a bad one. I'm sorry, Padmé."
Though I know he didn't mean it that way, the barb to my profession, to my old job, still hurts. He always resented the fact that I was a politician, and I'd always convinced myself he didn't resent me, as a result. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he did.
"How about we call a 'cease fire,'" I said, trying not to smile. Not an easy task, that's for sure. I was happier than I could describe to see him, like this, whole, and the Ani I remember. "And then negotiate?"
I can see the corners of her lips trying not to turn up, but they are. I feel flooded with relief, for the moment, anyway. This isn't over, not by a long shot. Even in death, things take time. The universal constant, regardless of where you are.
"The cease fire is officially in effect," I said softly, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand. I looked into her eyes and smiled lightly. "I love you, Padmé. I've thought of you almost constantly since the last time I saw you. When I was encased in that…that suit, you were the first thing I asked about when I came to."
A pause, and still she says nothing. Her expression is unreadable. The way she does that is unnerving, it always has been. When she gets like that, I never can tell what she's feeling or thinking, not even with telepathy.
Finally, I can stand it no more. Looking into her eyes with an urgency, not even sure why I feel an urgency, I speak, "How do we reclaim what we had? How do I regain your love and trust? How do I become the man you fell in love with again? Please, tell me."
His words are plaintive, and sincere, and it breaks my heart, and sends it soaring at the same time, to hear them. I look into his eyes, and simply stare for the longest time. My silence seems to frighten him, though I don't mean for it to. I heard him, and I love him, and I want back what we had, even here.
Wrapping my arms around his neck and drawing close to him, his shocked expression priceless, I simply smile, and whisper, "Well…this is a good start…my husband, my love." Before he can speak again, I gently press my lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss, a kiss that's as solid and real to me as the first one we shared.
Even in death, in the Force, love isn't easy. It will be a hard road, and one that will be filled with many obstacles, but I believe, truly, and deeply, that love can really conquer all, given the chance. The love of a mother gave two children a fighting chance to live in a galaxy where they'd surely end up dead. The love of a son conquered the Dark Side to bring a father back to the Light. Maybe the love of a couple can conquer the uncertainty and the pain of the past, and move forward. Like time, love is a universal constant. Like time, love is immortal, forever lasting, and always…always the ultimate victor.