Long Shadows

22 BBY

Nine years a slave. Ten years a monk.

When Anakin first got off that lift and looked into her eyes again he knew exactly what he was getting himself into. He'd never admit it, of course. He'd rather spend twenty years lashing out and shedding blood than own up to it. Because even before he met Padme, that had always been easier.

What else was there for a boy who knew nothing? Who was nothing.

As far as the Council was concerned, he had always just been another dog on a leash, another soldier to goad ahead. A constant test to see what he was capable of, then pulling back when he proved he could. Just like it had been as a servant on Tatooine. Just like it had always been. Because it had never been about what he could do, it was always about who he could do it for. And that it could never be for himself.

Not until he saw her again, at least.

Would there be risks? Sure, there always had been. These just came with bigger asterisks. Navigating a 'relationship' with a girl was no easy task, particularly when most of his life had been spent in the company of nomads. It was... a learning process. There were stumbles and pitfalls and no small amount of cringe-inducing small talk.

Conversation had never been his strong suit, it never needed to be. For all his life up until that point the most important thing had been control. Control of a situation, of your place in society and the people in it. For the first time it wasn't just about physical control, either. He had made the mistake of falling for someone who could use their words. She was a politician, after all. And for her, he was the next mission. The next project to reclaim.

Was it romantic? Not in the traditional sense. For two people so driven by securing peace they never spent much time trying to enjoy it. The nights they spent together were few and often quiet. Rarely were they physical, as much an awkward lack of experience, as it was a 'dutiful obligation' to both their pursuits. They cared for each other deeply, but never knew the right ways to express it.

In the end, most of the attraction seemed to come from the allure of flirting with the forbidden at all. They'd often wonder how long it would last, how long it could last. How long until he turned up dead on a mission or the scandal broke loose and she'd have to step down from the Senate. Sometimes they'd anguish about it when the other was away. Sometimes they'd wonder aloud about the mistake they made.

Their biggest mistake, however, ended up being the galaxy's greatest saviors. A baby was an event to celebrate, to cherish and savor. For two people so focused on the future, that wasn't easy to do. They were all smiles on the outside, of course. On the inside, they knew the clock was already ticking. Managing one relationship was hard enough on its own, throwing twins into the mix was never going to work.

And yet it was when the twins were announced that the passion felt the realest, that the stakes were the highest. It wasn't just their agendas they were concerned with now, not anymore. For a time it looked as if they could make it work, that they could keep up the act.

Anakin had convinced himself of that all the way up until the end. It wouldn't be the first time he had managed to prove everyone wrong, that he could march victoriously over the doubts of others. That his focus could determine their reality. Even then it had been about control, about simply getting other people to listen.

And yet his flaw was never in those desperate attempts to take control. It was in thinking he could get away with it even when he failed. That he could get out unscathed. Be the savior all the prophecies proclaimed.

Nine years a slave. Thirteen years a monk. Twenty-three years an executioner.

It wasn't until the end that he realized his life was never really his own. That, in one form or another, he had always had a master. Except for the one brief moment in time when he hadn't, when he had simply wanted to be a father and a husband. That even when everything had already been taken away from him, even as he stood in the throne room watching his son get tortured, even then, he still had more to give. That the one choice he made for himself as he stepped off the lift all those years ago, no matter how reckless and immature, had been the right one.

That it had been the only choice he ever needed to make.

End