Disclaimer: I think Tavith safely qualifies as mine, but none of the rest does. ;) It all belongs to George.

Note: This is a sequel to my previous fic, Our Lady of the Fallen, and it would probably help to read that one first.

Confession: Yes, I know. Starting another story when I'm still in the middle of the first... Tisk, tisk. For readers of Anabasis, I promise there will be a new chapter soon. But this particular bunny just ran off with my muse...

Dedication: Yup, that's right. :) I owe the inspiration for this story most especially to Stephanie C and Jedi Master Arie Skywalker. They thought it impossible to redeem Palpatine from the dark side. Well, who am I to refuse a challenge? ;)

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Chapter I: Into Darkness

She is alone, standing at the edge of the abyss, when he comes to her.

She has been expecting him for a while now, although she does not really want to see him. She told his mother that she didn't blame him, and that is true, but that doesn't make it any easier to face the man who killed her son.

The son she will never see again. He died in the darkness, and he is lost to her forever.

She hears her son's killer stop a few paces behind her, and she notices that his breathing sounds somewhat ragged. In the Light, there are no more injuries, nor any pain, but here, so close to the edge of the Darkness… Perhaps he is affected. For some reason, that thought pleases her.

She wonders if it is the darkness in her own heart speaking.

"If you came to offer me consolations," she says without bothering to look at him, "you may as well go back now. Your loved ones are waiting for you." She says these last words almost with a sneer, and she wonders momentarily where this sudden bitterness could have come from. She knows he did only what was necessary, in the end. But perhaps she has not truly forgiven him for that, after all.

"No," he says softly, and there is no trace of affront in his voice. She wonders if he even remembers how to be angry. Ironic, that. But then his next words shatter her world.

"I came because there may still be a chance for him."

And now she does look at him. She sees the way his eyes shine with the same kind of brilliant hope that his wife once watched in their son's eyes. She sees in his face the certainty of redemption. And she sees the way even the shadows of the abyss flee before the light that pools about him, and she wants so desperately to believe.

"Anakin," she says, the anger gone now and leaving only endless sorrow in its wake, "you know that's impossible. He is one with the Dark, as we are one with the Light, and there can be no changing that."

To her surprise, her visitor actually grins. He comes forward and sits, almost casually, his legs dangling off the edge of the abyss. She watches in fascination as the shadows cringe away from him, leaving in their wake a kind of suspended nothingness that slowly fills with light.

"Tavith," he says, "I want to tell you a story."

And he tells her about fire and darkness and betrayal and loss, and about a boy named Luke who brought the light. She knows the story, of course—she watched most of it as it happened—but she lets him tell it anyway. And she finds that, as he speaks, she truly understands it for the first time.

"They told Luke that it was impossible, you know," he says, and there is a faint laughter behind his eyes, mixed with wisdom.

She nods, hardly daring to hope, and looks him full in the face. Her voice is but a breath of wind as she whispers, "What did you have in mind?"

He gives her a conspiratorial grin and a wink. A few moments ago, his actions would have upset her, but now she finds hope in them. If he can be in such a mood, and so close to the Darkness… Perhaps he knows something that she does not.

"Well," he says, "we know he won't come to us, so…" He trails off, allowing his implications to become clear, and she stares at him as if he has gone mad. Perhaps he has.

"Isn't there…some sort of rule against that?" she asks weakly, though she knows it is not much of an argument, especially against him.

He chuckles, but his face is gentle when he says, "I've never paid much attention to rules, Tavith, and I see no reason to start now."

"It will hurt you," she breathes, eyes darting away. She wants so badly to accept what he is offering, but she does not have the right to ask such a thing of him. She knows he has already suffered enough for her son.

But he says only, "I know," and stretches out his hand to her in a silent offer. In the Light, there is no pain, but here, so close to the edge of the Dark, she can see the telling red stain that marks a brutal circumference just above his elbow. She hesitates only a moment before accepting his hand.

He takes a deep breath, almost as though he fears it will be his last. She hears him whisper Luke's name.

And together they step off the edge and fall into blackness.