Carry On

by afflictedheart

AU. Padmé died during childbirth, leaving Anakin to raise the twins alone. On their thirteenth birthday, Luke and Leia have a very important question to ask their father. Complete.

Summary: AU. Padmé died during childbirth, leaving Anakin to raise the twins alone. On their thirteenth birthday, Luke and Leia have a very important question to ask their father.

Carry On

Anakin Skywalker could not help but smile as he put the finishing touches onto his daughter's birthday gift. The red ribbon bow matched the hapharzardly wrapped patterned paper well, and Anakin, for all his eye for design (or lack-there-of), had to admit that it didn't look too bad. Too bad. It had only taken one roll of tape to wrap the gifts, and Anakin had been prepared with two. He placed his daughter's gift next to the identically wrapped one for his son already sitting proudly on the wooden coffee table of the lounge. In this position, the gifts were sure to catch the eyes of the twins as soon as they entered the room.

There were two smaller gifts next to Anakin's, wrapped neatly in nondescript brown butcher's paper. These gifts were not from Anakin - they were wrapped far too carefully for that. These gifts were from the twin's Masters; one from Obi-Wan Kenobi and one from Mace Windu. It was not customary for Jedi to present each other with gifts - or even to acknowledge birthdays or other sentimental holidays - however, the two old Masters had made an exception for their Padawans this year, as it was a special birthday. Thirteen was an important birthday for anyone in the galaxy, Jedi or not.

Anakin smiled again, this time more wistfully, as he remembered the gift that his former Master Obi-Wan, now the mentor of his son, Luke, had given him on his thirteenth birthday. It had been a precious stone, polished smooth and small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. It was a brilliant mix of blues and greens with tiny flecks of gold throughout.

"It's a Nabooian Opal," Obi-Wan had told him. "It's to remind you that there's always something beautiful and green out there in the galaxy, even if it doesn't always seem like it. I know that it can be easy to forget that sometimes."

Anakin had not known how to respond to the gift at first, as it had been so unexpected. Obi-Wan had advised him to keep it hidden, as it was against the code for Jedi to have possessions, especially those of a sentimental nature. He had thanked Obi-Wan in the manner of a bashful and awkward thirteen-year-old boy, and quickly pocketed the gem. However, that night he had lain in the narrow cot of his room at the Temple and in the glow of the never-ending Coruscanti traffic had turned the gem over and over in his hand, studying it. It was beautiful, like a little piece of the ocean frozen solid in glass. Anakin had not known how to express to Obi-Wan how much he appreciated the gift and the thought behind it. He admired it in the dim light and thought about Padmé Amidala, herself beautiful and vibrant and from Naboo, and his heart had stirred with feelings that his thirteen-year-old self could not quite yet understand. From that moment onwards, he always carried the gem with him, keeping it hidden in a small compartment of his utility belt. He knew that he could never expect to see Padmé again, but at least he had something from Naboo to remind him that such a place and such a person existed out there amidst the turmoil of the galaxy.

Anakin's smile faded as his thoughts turned to his late wife. Thirteen years after her passing and the ache in his heart was still as strong as the day she had died. Although Anakin had stopped mourning on the outside, had built up a wall around his heart that let him live out his roles as father and Jedi Master, he would never truly be able to quell the anguish in his soul at the loss of his Angel. It was especially difficult for him on this day of all days, as the twin's birthday was also the anniversary of their mother's death.

It had never been easy for any of them to celebrate it, Anakin knew. They all felt a sort of guiltiness over the act of celebrating and being joyful on a day that also had such a dark significance. Anakin knew that they shouldn't feel this way, the twins especially, and that Padmé would not want them to be mourning on a day which deserved to be celebrated, but they couldn't help it. He couldn't help it. He missed her, so damn much, every damn day.

He still dreamt about her every night. Some were good dreams, others bad. He didn't mind the good dreams so much, didn't mind the glimpses into the past when she was still alive and his to hold in his arms forever and a day. It was the bad dreams that he dreaded, that kept him awake for nights at a time and crying out in his sleep, reaching out for her in the dark and grasping only empty space. The worst one was the one where he lost all of them, not just his wife. In that dream, they couldn't save any of them, he couldn't save any of them. They were all screaming, Padmé and the babies, screaming out for him and disappearing down a dark hallway and he would be running to them as fast as he could but no matter how fast he went he never got there in time, ever. That dream was the worst one because it meant that he was left with nothing and no-one. He was thankful every day that his reality was different, and he would steal softly to the twin's bedroom where they slept peacefully and completely oblivious to their father's anguish, unknowing as to the true extent of their meaning to him.

It had not always been that way, of course. Right after it had happened, right after she had… died… Anakin could not bear to be around his children. It was just too painful to hold them in his arms and see her staring back at him, especially in Leia who so closely resembled her mother. It was not that he didn't love them, oh no. He loved them more than he thought it was ever physically possible to love anything. It was just that he had loved her that way as well, more so maybe. There was no depth to Anakin Skywalker's love for Padmé Amidala, no level of measurement, no words to truly describe its magnitude. Theirs was a love that burned so brightly and so strongly that perhaps it had no choice but to burn out. Perhaps there wasn't enough energy in the galaxy to sustain such a love forever. Anakin always thought it was because he was only supposed to be allowed a certain amount of happiness in his life and he had gone too far and tried to take more than allowed. For a brief time, a space of two blissful months, he had been able to keep it, this extra helping of happiness. He had exposed the evil Chancellor Palpatine for who he really was – the Dark Lord of the Sith - and by slaying him had fulfilled his destiny and restored balance to the Force. This in turn had led to him being granted the rank of Master and finally receiving the recognition that he deserved from the Jedi Council. On top of all that, Anakin and Padmé had been allowed to love openly and freely, and they excitedly prepared for the impending birth of their first child like all married couples should. For those two brief months, Anakin Skywalker had had everything that he ever could have dreamed of and more. Then the powers that be had obviously decided that it was too much for him, and it all came crashing down.

Looking back, there was nothing that he could have done to stop it. It was not his fault, he knew this in his heart of hearts, but his inner consciousness taunted him nonetheless with ideas that he could have prevented it. After initially experiencing a textbook labour with twins, Padmé had suffered unexpected complications that despite the best efforts of the medical staff of the Coruscant medcentre, could not be resolved. It had been short and painless, less than ten minutes, but he could remember every second of it. She had just delivered the second twin, Luke, when she had become faint and the monitors connected to her had started to go crazy.

"Angel, look. You were right, we were having a boy," Anakin had said, handing the small, squirming bundle of pink swaddled snuggly in blue to his exhausted wife.

"We were both right, Ani. Both right…" Padmé had murmured, her tired eyes gazing down at their perfect son, the son that she had known that they were having all along.

"I can't believe we have twins," Anakin had gushed, his blue eyes sparkling with tears of joy as he held his baby daughter gently in his arms and marvelled at her tiny form. He had had no idea that anything could be this wonderful, or this small.

"Luke…" Padmé had whispered, christening their son with a kiss to the forehead. She looked over at her daughter, held safely in her father's arms. "And Leia."

Anakin thought that he could never be as happy as he was in that moment. Here he was with his wife and son, holding his infant daughter in his arms. Here he was with his family. Nothing in the galaxy could ever be better than this.

And that's when the monitors started to beep.

"Padmé? Are you alright?" Anakin had queried with concern as his wife suddenly turned a ghastly shade of pale.

"I don't… feel too well," Padmé had murmured, her voice weak and broken. "Take Luke, Ani."

Anakin had stood there with the two crying babies in his arms and no idea what to do as the medical team burst through the door and the monitors wailed around him.

"W-what's going on? Are you okay? Is she okay? Padmé!?" Anakin's shouts of desperation had fallen on deaf ears as the medical team discussed the situation amongst themselves in jargon that he had no hope of understanding.

He had managed to catch a few sentences that he understood: she was bleeding, and it was fast, and it wasn't stopping. He had been standing there completely stunned as a nurse had come in and taken the twins from him, and requested in a calm voice that he leave the room.

"No!" Anakin had growled, his voice coming out so much louder than he had intended and startling the nurse. "She's my wife, I'm not leaving her."

The nurse had mumbled something over her shoulder as she left the room which Anakin had ignored as he had tried to get as close to Padmé's bed as possible. The room had been crowded with medical personnel shouting at each other and working desperately to do something, anything, to save the poor woman lying unresponsive in the bed who was fading fast. It was a flurry of activity and noise and then all of a sudden everything was silent and Anakin and Padmé were the only ones in the room as she had opened her weary brown eyes and whispered a few broken words to him.

"I know… you'll… look after them, Ani. I… love you."

And just like that she was gone.

Anakin did not remember much of what happened after that. It felt like the universe itself had ended. He didn't know that he could feel such agony. He had been wounded before in battle, a number of times quite seriously, yet none of that compared to this. They could cut off his hand again, both of them, all of his damn limbs if they wanted, and it wouldn't compare to this feeling of complete and utter emptiness. He felt blindly through the Force, desperately searching for her presence but it was gone and in its place was a deep, black void, the perfect size for Anakin to lose himself in. Another nightmare had come true and once again he hadn't been able to do a damn thing about it.

He did not see the twins for at least a fortnight, and spent that time in and out of bars wallowing in both grief and any illicit substance that he could find. He severed all contact with the Jedi, even Obi-Wan. He knew that he had broken his promise to Padmé, his promise to always be there for and protect their children. He felt terrible, absolutely sick to the core of his being at the thought that his children were without both of their parents, but he couldn't do it, he was just too weak. He had no idea how to be a father without her – he'd never had a damn father of his own, so how was he supposed to look after not one but two children?

Padmé's family came to look after the twins. He barely saw them, as he was out most of the time in some dingy hole of a bar on Coruscant's lower levels, but when he did, they said very little to him. They didn't have to say anything; he knew that they disapproved of how he was handling this, but Anakin just didn't care. If he was blind drunk he didn't have to feel so strongly, didn't have to feel the emptiness in the Force that had enveloped him after Padmé had died and their connection through the Force was severed for good.

Sola asked him if he would let her take the twins away to Naboo and raise them there herself. It was not really a question, actually, more of a statement of her intentions. It was clear to everyone that he was completely unfit to look after these poor little babies, and Anakin had to agree with them.

"I'm sorry, Anakin, but I think it's best. I know you're their father, but I think they would be better off on Naboo in a more… nurturing… environment," Sola had explained gently one morning about three weeks after Padmé's passing.

Anakin, riding the waves of the worst hangover that he had ever experienced in his entire life, had not said anything. He had watched her packing up her things and the things that he and Padmé had chosen especially for their baby. He had watched her fold up all the little pastel rompers and onesies and dresses and socks and put them away in her suitcase. He still said nothing. It was for the best. He was unfit. He had no experience. Sola was already a mother, already had two beautiful children. She would know exactly what to do to give the twins a happy up-bringing on the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. They would have a childhood just like Padmé had had. It was more than he could ever hope to give them.

He sat there and through bleary, blood-shot eyes he watched Sola gather up her things and prepare to leave. The suitcases were by the door and a transport would arrive any minute now. All that was left was to collect the twins from their nursery, where they slept peacefully and unaware of the fact that this was the last time that they would see their father again.

Anakin did not go with Sola to the nursery. He had not set foot in it since Padmé had died. It was too painful, too much of a reminder of a life that he had been so close to having but which was cruelly snatched away at the last minute. He did not want to go in there and be plagued with thoughts of what if?

Sola had returned to the living room with the slumbering twins in a bassinette and had begun her farewells when all of sudden she was interrupted by a baby's soft cry. The cry was then joined by another, as both twins began to wail. Anakin had heard the twins cry before, regular cries that any newborn baby made a hundred times a day. But this cry was different somehow. There was a deeper meaning to it, a deeper significance that the twins were trying to convey. Anakin not only heard their cry, but he felt it, through the Force. He felt them through the Force, their signatures strong and innocent and a unique blend of Padmé's and his own.

He had risen to his feet, stumbling, and made his way over to where Sola was trying to comfort the crying infants. "Can I?" he had asked, gesturing at the babies.

"I-I guess," Sola had responded, caught off-guard by the look of sudden clarity in Anakin's eyes.

He had held them, then, one in each arm. They were so small that they fit in his arms with ease. So tiny and so perfect. He had looked at them, then, with the same clarity that he had shown Sola moments earlier. He looked at them and he saw how perfect they were, how small and innocent and how much they looked like himself and how much they looked like her. He held them in his arms so carefully and he knew then that they were his, all his. He had felt it before, when they were first born and he had met them for the first time and his heart was amazed, but know he really knew it. He knew that these tiny souls in his arms were his children and that he was their father and that he loved them with all of his heart and that he needed to protect them.

"I'm so sorry," he had whispered, to the twins and to Sola and to Padmé. "I'm so sorry. I'm here now. I love you. I'm so sorry."

He had not realised that he had been crying until Sola had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was alright. He had met her gaze and seen that her eyes were filled with tears as well.

After that day, Anakin never left the twins for longer than he had to. The twins did go back to Naboo with Sola, but Anakin went with them, and spent a year there with Padmé's family healing and learning how to be a father. It was not easy, but he managed with the support of the Naberries. They understood his need to mourn, as they also grieved the loss of their daughter and sister, and Naboo grieved the loss of its beloved senator and queen.

Eventually, Anakin returned to Coruscant and to the Jedi Order. He did not return to the penthouse at 500 Republica, or to the Jedi Temple, but instead used the small amount of credits that he had managed to accumulate over the years to rent a modest apartment in the middle sector of Coruscant. It was a small place, with only two bedrooms, a cramped living room and kitchenette, and a bathroom that required numerous repairs and a bit of the Force to make habitable, but it was enough for the Skywalkers to call home. Anakin's reasoning for not returning to the Temple was that he wanted to give his children as similar an upbringing as to what they would have had if their mother had still been alive. Padmé would never have let the Order take their children as babies and grow up outside of a family home. He worked hard to give them the fairest and kindest upbringing that they could have, and to ensure that they knew just how much he loved them and how grateful he was that he was their father.

The years passed and the twins grew older and stronger in the Force. They were eventually tested by the Order, however there was never any doubt that the offspring of Anakin Skywalker would be strong in the Force. Anakin was denied the opportunity to mentor either of his children as it was deemed a conflict of interest. Instead, Luke was given to Obi-Wan and Leia was given to Master Mace Windu, a choice that Anakin initially found concerning. Mace himself was reluctant at first to take on the challenge of a Skywalker as an apprentice, especially a Skywalker as tempestuous as Leia, however the bond that formed between Master and Padawan eventually became so strong that it rivalled even that of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

Throughout their childhood the twins heard their father speak of their mother very little. They knew a small amount of information about her, such as that she had been a very respected senator and queen, and that she had died after giving birth to them, but that was about all. They knew that their father found it very difficult to speak of her, and they knew that he would sometimes cry for her at night, even though he pretended not to.

When she had been about seven, Leia had once accidentally over-heard her father talking to himself when she had gone to his room at night after a bad dream. The door to his room had been left ajar, and Leia had peeked through the gap and had seen her father sitting on the edge of his bed and holding a small blue stone in his hands. It had seemed like he had been having a conversation with someone but there had been nobody else there.

"The twins did some great work at school this week, especially Leia. She's doing so well in all of her classes, straight As in everything. She's so much like you. You'd be so proud, I know you would. You would be so proud of the both of them. I-I wish you were here to see-"

She had left then, feeling embarrassed at intruding in on her father's privacy. She didn't understand what he was doing at the time, but when she was older and looked back on the memory she knew that it had been her mother that he had been talking to. She wondered if he did it every night, but she never went back to her father's room at that time of night ever again. He had his secrets, and they had theirs.

The twins never told their father that they went to Obi-Wan one day and asked him questions about their mother. They were eleven years old and innocently curious to find out anything that they could about the mother they had never known. There was no use asking Anakin as he would only respond in very short answers and then change the question, and would never speak of their mother freely. He did not even like to keep any portraits or photographs of her out in the open, and as such they had only ever really seen their mother in family photographs at their grandparent's house. Their grandparents and Aunt Sola were no use as a source of information either, as whenever the twins would ask them a question they would respond with "It's something to ask your father."

So, one day when they were eleven, they made up their minds to ask Obi-Wan if he could tell them about their mother. They knew that Obi-Wan and their mother had been close friends, and that he had known her before she had married their father and even before she had been a senator and was still queen. They felt that it should be Luke who initiated the conversation, as Obi-Wan was his Master after all. They waited until the busy day at the Temple was almost over, and then they sought out Obi-Wan on his way to the mess hall for dinner.

"Master Kenobi, we have a question for you," Luke had begun, his voice timid and innocent.

"And what is that, my young friends?" Obi-Wan had responded pleasantly.

"It's about our mother," Leia had chimed in.

"Oh," was all that Obi-Wan had said in response to that. His mouth had set in a hard line as he thought to himself for a moment, and then he had led the twins over to a wooden bench in a small secluded area of the hallway. He had sat them down, one on either side of him, before he continued. "I think that's something you should ask you father about."

Obi-Wan's answer had frustrated the twins.

"He won't tell us anything!" Leia had exclaimed in annoyance, her lips in a stubborn pout.

"Yeah, he doesn't like to talk about it," Luke had added, trying to be a little politer than his rather out-spoken sister.

Obi-Wan had sighed – not a sigh of annoyance, a sigh of frustration that even after all these years, Anakin was still a closed book on the subject of Padmé - and his tone was gentle and understanding. "Your mother's death was very hard on your father - you probably already know that. It's hard for him to talk about her because he misses her very greatly. I know it's frustrating, but I have to respect your father's wishes. You know that he loves you very much."

The twins had left that conversation there, but they did not stop trying to find out whatever they could about their mother. They watched old holo-news reports and listened to her heartfelt speeches, watching the way her brown eyes, the same brown as Leia's, lit up when she talked about something that she was passionate about. They looked at old photos of her at various balls and galas in holo-zines and papers, and noted that she had the same tender smile as Luke. They found a photo of her and their father posing together, his arm around her waist and her lips on his cheek. They never told him that they found it, and cut it out and kept it in a box with a small lock under Leia's bed with the other things that they wanted to keep hidden.

Anakin gave the gifts in the living-room one more quick appraisal before he headed to the twins' bedroom to wake them. He reached out with the Force and sensed that they were still fast asleep. He grinned, throwing open the bedroom door, flicking the light on and entering the room as purposely loud as he could.

"Are you two planning on sleeping through your birthday this year?" Anakin asked, his tone light and innocently joking.

"Da-ad!" the twins groaned, and Leia used the Force to fire a lumpy pillow at her father's head without opening her eyes.

Anakin laughed and aimed the pillow right back at his daughter. "Come on, sleepy-heads!"

"We're teenagers now, we need a lot of extra sleep," Luke reasoned, rubbing his eyes as he shifted into a sitting position.

"Is that so? Well then, somebody should have told Master Obi-Wan about that when I was a teenager. He woke me up at five in the morning every single day!" Anakin reminisced, heading back towards the living room as the twins shuffled after him sleepily, still in their sleep-clothes.

At the sight of the gifts sitting on the coffee table, the twins seemed to wake up incredibly quickly, which made Anakin grin. "Suddenly not so sleepy," he mused.

Leia rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at her father. "Are you ever going to stop teasing us?"

Anakin pretended to think about this for a moment, stroking the sandy-coloured beard that he had begun to sport in the last few years. "Hmm, let me see… no."

The twins hovered around the gifts and Anakin knew that even though they were well-behaved, disciplined Padawans who understood the Jedi mantra of patience and tranquillity – they were also thirteen year olds excited about their birthday presents. No amount of training could quell that excitement.

"What are you waiting for? Open them!" he commanded, smiling.

Without hesitation, the twins dug into their gifts from their father. Luke, truly Padmé's son, unwrapped his gift carefully and slowly, taking care to not rip the paper. Leia, on the other hand, tore into her gift like a voracious wild shaak, practically using the Force to tear aside the paper quickly. She was truly her father's daughter.

The twins held their respective gifts in their hands and stared at them in wonder. They then looked up at their father with questions in their eyes. Anakin came to sit on the floor beside them, ready to explain to them the significance of the items in their hands.

He had given Luke a small, leather-bound notebook – something quite rare in an age where nearly everything was digitised on data-pads. The book was beautiful. Its cover displayed an intricately designed pattern that was embossed onto the leather, and when Luke opened it the paper inside was rich and creamy and smooth.

"Wow, dad. This is… amazing," Luke breathed, his fingers tracing lightly over the pattern on the book's cover.

"It was your mother's," Anakin said plainly, and the twins turned to him with surprise.

"Really?" Luke could hardly believe his ears, and he looked down at the book with an added reverence.

"Yes. It's a sketchbook. Her sketchbook. She loved to draw, and I know that you do too. She would have wanted you to have something proper like this for your work," Anakin explained. "She didn't get a chance to use this one, so I think that you should fill it up with your beautiful artwork for her."

"T-thankyou, dad," Luke said softly, his blue eyes shining.

"You're welcome, son," Anakin said, before turning to Leia who was closely examining the item in her hands. "That was your mother's too."

Leia looked at her father with joy, waiting for him to explain the story behind the beautiful necklace that she held carefully in her hands.

"I made that for your mother many years ago, when we were young. I was younger than you are now when I first met her. She was the Queen of Naboo then, and I was just a little boy working in a junk shop on Tattooine. She was beautiful, and kind, and she helped me. When I came to Coruscant to become a Jedi I made her this necklace for her to remember me by, and she kept it for all of those years," Anakin explained reflectively, casting his mind back to that fateful meeting all those years ago as he looked at the carved Japor snippet pendant in his daughter's hands. The twins listened eagerly and intently to this story that they had never heard before, a rare glimpse into their mother and father's life before they had been born.

"It's beautiful, dad," Leia whispered, holding the snippet up to the light to examine the painstaking carving work that her father had done all those years ago when he was just a little boy with a wonderful new friend.

"Your mother loved that necklace, Leia," Anakin told his daughter. "She would have wanted you to have it. I want you to have it."

"Thankyou, dad. I'll look after it, I promise," Leia said, as her father placed the necklace around her neck.

"I know you will," Anakin said with a smile.

The twins moved closer to their father and each wrapped their arms around his neck, and he pulled them in close for a warm, tight hug. "I wanted you to both have these gifts because they are not just from me, they are from your mother, too. She would have wanted you to have them to celebrate this special birthday."

Luke and Leia exchanged a quick glance at each other over the top of their father's head. Maybe this was the opportunity they needed to get him to talk to them about their mother. They were worried that they might ruin the moment, that he might close up and walk away, but it was a risk they were willing to take.

"Dad," Leia began, as the more confident of the two.

"Mmm?"

"Can we ask you some stuff? About… mum?"

Anakin was silent for a moment and the twins exchanged a worried glance. Then he smiled, and moved to stand up. The twins followed him as he began to walk towards the small kitchenette. "What would you like to ask?"

The twins looked at each other. Leia bit her lip. Hmm. They had never expected this answer and did not really know how to proceed. Anakin's default response was always "maybe another time."

"Um, well… what was she like?" Luke asked tentatively.

"Oh, what was she like? Well. Your mother, she was amazing," Anakin began, standing by the stove and preparing the kettle to boil. The twins took a seat at the small, circular table in the corner of the kitchen and prepared to listen intently. "She was so kind, and so beautiful. She was truly concerned about everyone in the galaxy, and worked hard to solve as many problems as she could. She was smart and hard-working and humble. I loved her."

"Why did you fall in love with her?" Leia questioned.

Anakin turned back to his children with a pensive smile. "How could I not? Everyone loved her and she loved everyone."

"D-do you think she would have liked Leia and me?" Luke asked gently, looking up through his lashes timidly.

"Of course! Of course, and don't you ever think otherwise. She loved you so much before you were even born, when you were still in her tummy," Anakin told them, using the Force to levitate three hot cups of tea towards the kitchen table. "She would be so proud of you two, just like I am."

"I… wish I could have met her," Leia confessed, hanging her head.

Anakin swallowed back the lump in his throat. "She's watching down on you through the Force, Leia. She'll always be with us as long as we are connected to the Force and let it into our hearts and souls."

There was a moment of silence as each Skywalker focussed on their cup of tea and the gravity of the conversation. It was Luke's gentle voice that broke the silence.

"It sounds silly but… I miss her. Even though I never really got to be with her, I miss her."

Anakin placed a hand gently on his son's shoulder. "I miss her too, Luke. A lot. But, like I told Leia, she's always watching down on us, and she'll always be with us in the Force."

Luke put down his cup of tea and smiled gratefully at his father, silently thanking him for this much-needed conversation. Leia smiled too, and Anakin knew that he should have had this conversation with them sooner. He should have heeded his own words – Padmé was with them in the Force; she wasn't truly gone forever. Maybe one day, he thought to himself, he might even meet her again in some other place without a name where the sun would never set on their time together.

The rest of the day was spent joyfully by the Skywalkers. The little family celebrated the day at home and had a wonderful time. Anakin, who had had thirteen years to master the act of cake-baking, still somehow managed to make a cake that even Jar-Jar Binks would consider inedible. The twins laughed it off and the faulty birthday cake was replaced with a birthday pie that Anakin returned home with after a quick trip to the upper-level markets. The twins opened their other gift, and were pleasantly surprised by the taste in presents of two old Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan, who knew of Luke's penchant for drawing just like his father did, gifted Luke a set of Correllian charcoal – considered the finest drawing material in the galaxy. Mace Windu gifted Leia a beautifully illustrated encyclopaedia of the Outer-Rim systems, knowing her fascination for different cultures and her thirst for knowledge. The day ended with Anakin and the twins making fun of bad holo-movies and eating the leftover birthday pie. It was a perfect day.

That night, as the twins slept peacefully in their beds, Anakin stood watch over them from the doorway of the bedroom. He smiled to himself as he thought about how lucky he was to have two beautiful, kind, talented children. It had not been easy – it never would be – but somehow he had managed. His universe hadn't exploded; he had been able to pick up the pieces and carry on with a new life. Maybe it wasn't the life that he had wanted originally, but it was the life that he had, and there was no use living in the past and holding onto what ifs? He had loved, and he had lost, but he had been granted the privilege to love again, in a new way, and for that he was forever thankful.

Finishing his ruminations and closing the door quietly, Anakin made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever dishes had been left over. He felt a feeling that he had not truly felt in thirteen years: peace. Yes, Anakin Skywalker's heart was at peace. And he swore, as he washed the dirty plates in the small metal sink, that he felt her presence again.

The End

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this story. I was inspired and once I started I just couldn't stop. Please review if you liked it, I would really appreciate it!