They fell from glory, to doom.
Hell took one.
Love, another.
Obliviousness for the last.
Each had their own affairs with fate,
all pawns in a galactic dejarik board.
The ones who cheat are condemned forever.
All were marked, forever changed by what
would become to be known as
The Fall of Anakin Skywalker.
Padmé:
She lay, surrounded by Polis Massan workers and their machines, vaguely aware of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Bail Organa standing some distance away. They were frightened, she could tell. Very scared...
And to tell the truth, she was too. Not of her demise, that she knew for sure. But Anakin, wait, not her Anakin, Palpatine's evil, corrupted version of Anakin - Darth Vader - had finally revealed himself as the Sith Lord's new apprentice. If Anakin, a man who had once been an innocent boy, could have something so horribly wrong happen to him, then what could be next?
A monitor beeped, startling her. The fog that had been momentarily swept away on the journey to Polis Massa was beginning to obscure everything again. The monitors beeped more urgently now, most likely indicating that fact to the others outside. She just barely saw Obi-Wan put his head in his hand, then look up and walk in.
"Padmé," he was saying. "It's coming." She could see faintly his beard, grown long from being without a razor, but trimmed neatly for Courscant. "The baby's coming." She closed her eyes to think. What had she planned to say to him?
And - ouch. She felt it now, the contractions hurting more than she had expected. Expecting to faint, she steeled herself for more. Each was like dying, she supposed, and coming back only to find yourself dying again. Something told her she would soon find out.
"Don't give up, Padmé." Obi-Wan's comforting voice cut through the pain.
"Is it a girl?" she heard herself say. "Anakin thinks it's a girl." Her eyes fluttered around in their sockets from the pain.
Obi-Wan took her hand. "We don't know yet. In a minute - Padmé, you have to stay with us!"
"If it's... a girl - oh, oh, oh no..." she muttered. Ouch. There was something, out there, in the stars. It cut like a vibroblade through something inside. She felt weakened.
He felt it too. "Can't you do something?" he appealed to the medic droid. She heard the droid reply about something, leaving the Jedi Knight to just squeeze her hand. "Padmé, you have to hold on!"
Going back to her original course - the baby must be named! And from what she knew of Obi-Wan, however wise, she did not want to leave her child's naming up to a bunch of Senators and Jedi Knights. "If it's a girl... name her Leia..."
A Polis Massan came up with a baby. "It's a boy, sir." She reached for it, but the worker took it away. It was better, probably. She didn't have the strength to hold him. "Luke." The vibroblade came back, hacking roughly at her will. She wasn't just dying, she was fading...
"And a girl." The girl, being lifted up by a droid, stared at her through the haze. She imagined what they thought of her. Probably very sad, kind face, beautiful, as most people did. She smiled at the child. Leia... and Luke, her darlings. Something inside of her was going...
"Your twins need you, Padmé, hang on!" Obi-Wan said urgently. She agreed - her children, her little babies needed her the most now. There was nothing she could do but speak. The fog clouded like a stormy day on Naboo. She was crossing into delirum.
"Anakin..."
"Anakin isn't here now, Padmé."
"Anakin, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Anakin... please, I love you!" A tear, her last tear fell.
"Obi-Wan, there is still," her voice choked - the something was breaking, "good in him. I know there is..." It cracked, and the haze flooded her vision. She tried to press her japor snippet into his palm. "Anak-" Her hand fell.
The last thing she saw was little Leia staring at her dying mother.
Obi-Wan:
So this is where it ended. For all of them. Padmé dies, Anakin turns into a Sith, and he - he was left to figure his own destiny. He walked out slowly of the room, not bothering to hide his tears. Yoda and Bail Organa stayed in the observation room, for what reason, he didn't know. He sat in a hallway, on a black bench. Perfect for his attitude.
There was the question of the necklace. It seemed awfully important to her. Probably made by someone important to her. Probably made by Anakin. Anakin. Whatever rage was allowed in the Jedi Order came to him. It surged throughout his brain, blaming all this on his former apprentice. If he hadn't been taken into the Order, he could have married Padmé legally, could have had these children in safe with him present, could have been a normal family man on Naboo. The tears dropped again. He squeezed the amulet on the necklace like it was Padmé's hand all over again. The ones who wouldn't have died. Padmé... Garen... Bant... Siri...
"Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs." Qui-Gon's voice came back to him. His old master's sayings often helped out, bugged him sometimes, and made him feel like a complete idiot mostly. This was a complete idiot moment. He wasn't just talking about the future, he was talking about the past too! Blast it, Obi-Wan! He stared at the piece of wood on the necklace. It had Anakin written all over it. Just like Obi-Wan's soul.
Vader:
He was being lifted by a machine. Reaching out with the Force, he felt a presence. A strong presence.
"Lord Vader? Lord Vader, can you hear me?" The eyes flickered open, then closed. The light was too much for him. But, then, he was Lord Darth Vader of the Sith. Nothing stopped him. He opened his eyes, and saw... Palpatine. His first instinct was to reach out and kill the evil little man for everything. For lying to him. He wanted to break the man, crush him for not being able to keep Padmé with him. Speaking of her...
"Padmé," he murmured, but it came out as a low rumbling sound, mechanical and fake. "Are you here? Are you all right?"
"I'm sorry, Lord Vader. I'm afraid she died. It seems in your anger... you killed her." Palpatine's sentence of truth, probably the only one that he would ever speak to Vader, rung in his ears. Or in his brain. He was suddenly aware of a black plasticoid helmet and a certain lack of most extremities. But... wait. "...you killed her." He closed his eyes again to think. "...you killed her." "...you killed her." "...you killed her." And with a sudden realization, he felt the real meaning. Anakin Skywalker, Lord Darth Vader, whoever he was, had killed the thing he loved the most. Padmé Amidala.
"No! No, it's not possible!" he yelled, the modulators in his electronic voice box making the sound lower and less desperate. Everything flooded back into his mind, Padmé coming off the ship, telling him she wouldn't join him, Obi-Wan coming off her ship... and the moment of truth. The moment where he, in his fury, had seized his newfound power and used it to suck life out of his dearest wife. He had destroyed what he had tried as hard as he could to save. It was all wrong. He had wanted the power to do anything... and he had gotten it. Only at the expense of the two people he had loved the most. Padmé and Obi-Wan hated him, he realized. They must have hated him with every inch of their souls. He hated himself for that. A tear would have dropped.
In his silence, he found strength. Not the kind that the Jedi or Padmé would have given him, raw, clean beautifully energizing strength, but the kind that only the ones who are desperate use. And he found that he was amazingly desperate.
Crack! A droid died, courtesy of the snapped positronic brain connector. One by one they go, the Force breaking wires and connectors.
So this is how it ends for him. Alone, by himself, in a dark helmet of despair and desperateness, and all he can do is blame himself for everything...
As they fell, two stars rose.
It lit the heavens with a glow none could match.
A star called Luke and the other, Leia.
They smiled on all.
And soon, more began to join them.
A new hope was formed. Some ask why. All they say is:
Because there is always hope.
