Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, nor do I own any of the characters, settings, or anything affiliated with George Lucas' world. I simply write for the love or Star Wars fanfiction.
A/N: Part One of The Skywalker Chronicles trilogy.
The Skywalker Chronicles - Destiny Reborn
Prelude
Mustafar - 19BBY
"Come away with me. Help me raise our child. Leave everything else behind while we still can."
Padmé took hold of Anakin's sleeves, tugging him forcefully towards her. Her tearstained face shimmered in the fiery Mustafar light, her expression one of desperation of pure anguish. Anakin tried to pull free of her grasp, tried to turn away, but his eyes were fixed upon her tormented face.
He felt her pain and sorrow as if it were his own – or perhaps it was his own. His own tears joined hers, silently slipping down his cheeks. He tried to look away, tried to free himself of her angst-ridden hold, but could not.
"Don't you see," he started, weaker than he had intended, "We don't have to run away anymore. I have brought peace to the Republic. I am more powerful than the Chancellor, I - "
"No, Anakin!" Padmé clutched at his chest now, her deep brown eyes glistening, "Anakin think about what you're saying. The Chancellor is not as he seems," she pulled herself towards him, "Anakin please, don't fall to him, please don't fall."
Pain erupted in his chest, so forceful he felt his legs buckle beneath him. He caught hold of Padmé for support, his vision blurred with unshed tears. So much darkness, despair, death. But it was for the good of the Galaxy... wasn't it?
"I.. I can overthrow him," his voice cracked as a niggling voice in the back of his head began to scream that this was wrong, so very wrong.
"Ani," Padmé whispered, cupping his cheek, "Please..."
The tears fell in earnest now, the salty liquid mixed with sweat and a sticky substance he was sure was blood. Anakin began to feel faint, the voice in his head growing louder, louder.
Murderer.
Evil.
Sith.
"I.." his blue eyes pleaded with Padmé to understand reason, to see that this was all for her, to protect her and the child, "I have to save you."
Padmé hiccoughed, pulling Anakin's face to her own, "As long as you're with me, only you, I'm saved. Don't take this path, Ani. Please, don't leave me."
His heart shattered. The pain in his chest became unbearable, his vision pricked with white spots. In the distance, a volcano erupted, the rumble reverberating through the platform and shaking the young couple. Anakin his wife clutched tighter, the roar of lava, dust and ash causing a painful din. His head ached, his eyes burned, his heart fell. The faces of the Jedi swam before him. Brothers in arms, the younglings, the deaths he felt as the Clones shot down their Generals. Pain, fear, sorrow came crashing down around him, and he felt as though he could not breathe.
What had he done?
"Padmé," he whispered hoarsely, his legs collapsing beneath him, "You'll.. you'll die..."
Padmé fell with him, pulling his head into her lap, her burgeoning bump providing a comforting pillow for her husband.
"Ani, I won't die, not as long as you're here with me."
Back on the ship, Obi Wan stood by the doorway, watching the events unfold. He felt Anakin's pain course through his very own veins, wincing as a particularly large wave hit him. He felt the turmoil, the tortured soul of his former apprentice, and his heart broke.
But he was a Sith. Anakin had pledged his life to Sidious, had murdered for him, lied and cheated and sought to destroy. He was an enemy of the Jedi now, and enemy of all Obi Wan had fought to preserve and protect.
He is your brother.
Obi Wan wrinkled his face, fighting the tears threatening to fall. His hand rested gently upon his lightsaber, the urge to unsheathe the weapon struggling against the desperate need to help his fallen comrade. Anakin was a danger, but could he be saved?
"...we'll hide, far away. No one will know."
Obi Wan closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. They were going to leave. Leave the Galaxy in the mess Anakin and Sidious had left it, turn their backs on their duty and abandon all hope.
"Where will we go?" he heard Anakin ask, his voice seeming far steadier now.
"Somewhere we haven't been before, where they won't think to look. We'll stay a few months then move on; the Jedi will be looking for you."
"If there are any left."
Obi Wan was shocked to hear the sorrow in Anakin's voice. After all, he had destroyed many of his fellow Jedi by his own blade. Waves of regret and remorse rolled from Anakin, and Obi Wan felt a small glimmer of hope ignite within the Force. If he regretted his actions, could there be a chance for redemption?
He watched the young couple, Anakin stroking Padmé's stomach tenderly. Obi Wan had never known a family, never entertained the thought of having a child of his own, but it was in that instant, he knew why they were fleeing. Not for Anakin, not for Padmé, but for the small life form growing inside that stomach, unaware of the state of the Galaxy it was about to be born into, nor the legacy it was inheriting from its parents. Obi Wan felt the love Anakin and Padmé had for the child, a love strong enough to make them abandon their duties and flee.
Without a sound, and unnoticed by all present, Obi Wan slipped from the ship. He hurried over to a small outcropping of rock near the platform, ducking behind it and ensuring he was cloaked within the Force. For several minutes, he watched the couple, before they disappeared onto the ship. Artoo was not far behind, whistling and bleeping in concern for his master. Several more minutes, and the ship took off into the night sky, and before Obi Wan could have even said goodbye, his former apprentice, brother, the man who had brought down an entire Order was gone.
"Gone?"
Obi Wan nodded to the small group of people gathered in a large stately room on a distance planet, hidden from prying eyes.
"What do you mean, gone?" the flame haired Mon Mothma demanded, frowning. Obi Wan sighed, glancing to Yoda, who sat in silent reflection to his right.
"He and Padmé have fled. Where they have gone, I do not know."
Bail Organa of Alderaan jumped to his feet, pacing back and forth, "So, he has abandoned the Emperor?"
Obi Wan nodded slowly, "It would seem. I heard the conversation myself, they have gone into hiding to raise their child."
"I never knew," Mothma muttered to herself sadly, "I spent so much time with her, and I never even realised."
To her left, a dark haired man, King Modon of Onderon, patted her shoulder, "It was for the best. A child of Anakin's would have been highly sought after by the Emperor."
"The child will be in great danger," Obi Wan mused, "Should Sidious ever discover its existence."
Beside him, Yoda shuffled into a more comfortable position, "Only hope we can, that hidden well, the child is."
"And what of us?" Garm Bel Iblis, Senator for Corellia cried, "The Galaxy is in tatters, governed by a dictatorship, we cannot live like this!"
Organa eyed his fellow Senator with a thoughtful expression, glancing now and then to Obi Wan and Yoda.
"We... we lie low, for now," he shot Bel Iblis a warning look as he opened his mouth to protest, "We comply with the Emperor's wishes, outwardly. But we will fight back. We will gather loyalists, sectors and systems, those who will fight for democracy, and we will build a resistance strong enough to withstand the Emperor's forces."
The room fell silent, each being seemingly deep in thought. King Modon tapped his fingers lightly against the polished wood desk, brow furrowed.
"So be it," he looked to Bel Iblis, "Onderon has a vast fleet, coupled with the Corellians, we can make a formidable counter attack."
"Chandrillan soldiers will be of great use," Mothma added, "And I have no doubts as to whether my neighbouring systems will agree to our cause."
"And the Jedi?" Bel Iblis asked, looking to Yoda and Obi Wan, "What of any survivors?"
Obi Wan scratched his beard, "For now, I think Yoda and I should go into hiding, perhaps try to seek out any survivors. We will need to rebuild out of Sidious' eye, until such a time as to reveal ourselves."
"To Dagobah, we will go," Yoda began, tapping his gimer stick for effect, "Gather survivors via the Force, follow its lead, we will. Reveal ourselves, when strong enough, we must."
More silence. So that was that. Lie low, whilst gathering an army, before declaring war against the Empire. No easy feat, but Obi Wan had faith in the Force. He sighed, before bringing to light, the final point of the meeting.
"And Anakin?"
Yoda grumbled beside Obi Wan, his Force signature unreadable in its brilliance.
"Wait, we will. Someday return, the Chosen One shall."
"Beautiful."
Anakin gazed down in wonder at the tiny form in his arms. The sleeping child nuzzled closer to his chest, a tuft of dark hair visible beneath a large cream blanket. An unmoving smile grew larger, and he looked up to his exhausted, though still enchanting wife.
In her arms, she held their son, sleeping just as peacefully as his sister. Wisps of golden hair covered his head, one chunky fist popped in his mouth for comfort. Anakin moved to sit by his wife, looking from one child to another, his heart swelling with emotion.
"Luke and Leia," he whispered, moving one hand to stroke Luke's small head, "They're perfect, just perfect."
"He looks like you," Padmé smiled, motioning to their son. Anakin nodded, lifting Leia a little higher in his hold.
"I think Leia will take after you."
Padmé smiled again, "Are you alright?"
For three weeks, the pair had been in hiding on some Force-forsaken planet hidden in the Outer Rim. Anakin had never heard of it, and quickly saw why. Dense jungle and a sticky, humid temperature would be an unbearable setting – but Padmé had not wanted to give birth in space.
Whether he was alright? Anakin did not know. He still felt pain from that day, still as fresh as always, but the birth of his children had quelled it somewhat. Padmé had survived, and now they were protecting two beautiful children.
But once that small moment of comfort ebbed, they would face an even greater challenge. How could the Chosen One, a man more famous than any being in the Galaxy possibly hide his family from the Emperor. He had no doubts that should his former Sith Master be made aware of the existence of his children, they would be quickly taken from him; such was the life of a Force sensitive now. They had seen the holo reports, seen the propaganda. Force sensitive's, even those untrained by the Jedi, were now an enemy to the Empire, to the planets represented within a dictatorship.
With every thought came a stab of pain, of regret and unimaginable sorrow. His part in the downfall of the Republic may have been over, but it would forever haunt him, and his family, so long as they lived. He may have slowly begun to understand his wrong doings, the deception of Sidious may now have been clear, but deep down inside of his soul, Darth Vader would always remain.
In his arms, Leia began to stir, her eyes slowly fluttering open beneath dark lashes. He gazed upon her, their eyes meeting, and he knew then that despite his crimes, despite his struggles against the dark, eventually, everything was going to be alright.