Sins of the Sons
by CandySith

Summary: A study on the pitfalls of attachment and appetite in three men, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin.

Note: Story is Obi-Wan/OC-centric, yes I know very scary, but I don't write my OCs as annoying goddesses and I tend not to describe them for the easy self-insert of the reader if they're into that sort of thing. Ignores Siri and Tahl storylines and retells the events after Order 66. Why? For my dark, evil pleasure.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is Disney's toy.

oOo

He knelt on shaking knees before a master who did not tolerate weakness in the form of laying prostrate after punishment. Anakin could hardly recall the face of Mace Windu when the Sith Lord had unleashed his deadliest weapon—his ability to summon lightening with the Force. He could not recall the shock and pain, but could recall with crystal clarity the noises the great Jedi Master had made, for he himself made those selfsame sounds when he bore the consequences of Palpatine's displeasure.

His breathing came in gasps, but Anakin remained on his knees, unwilling to show a shred of weakness before his master. In fact, he dared to glare from beneath his brows as the Emperor watched him with little more than mild curiosity. Things had changed between them when he had accepted his role as apprentice to the Darkside. Oh, Palpatine prized him still, would give of his knowledge without restraint, but he had oh so reluctantly informed Anakin that it was time to put away the childish training methods of the Jedi and accept that true power came at great cost.

Physical pain and humiliation was one of those costs. And he bore it, welcomed it because it would make him a deadlier weapon, an unstoppable foe, an apprentice that would be worthy to slay his master when the time came. And slay Palpatine he would. The thought of revenge alone was enough to keep him upright.

Palpatine laughed at his resolution, nodded in appreciation of the tool he was forging. "Keep your secrets, Lord Vader. Treasure them and know it doesn't matter. One day you will bring Kenobi before me or you will suffer for your failure. For if you fail, he will always be one step higher, always with his hand on your destiny and you will never exceed him. And you will never exceed me until he is dead, either, my apprentice."

Anakin tightened his jaw at the prophecy, wondering if it was true foresight or merely psychological play. There were two things the great Emperor was extremely skilled at. Precognition and manipulation, and it was often difficult for Anakin to tell which gift he was being assaulted by. He gave no indication of it, however, merely bowed his head and said, "Yes, my master."

Another round of torture had him writhing before his master, before his guards. He cried out in anguish, there was no help for that, but when the lightening stopped he was quick to press his hands against the cold floor and push himself up once again to his knees. Palpatine nodded in satisfaction, pleased by his strength. He motioned towards the door and said, "You may go, my apprentice. We will further our discussion on the nature of true power tomorrow. Think well on your punishment."

"I am in your debt, Master. Thank you," Anakin breathed, getting to his feet and walking with dignity toward the exit. As soon as the door hissed shut he leaned back against it, taking in air and willing his heart to stop racing. Sweat moistened his hair, his body. His fists curled, but not in anguish anymore, but in anger. He knew Palpatine could feel it, knew his master was enjoying the feel of his apprentice's dark desire to return pain for pain.

It was a vicious circle from which there was no escape. Shoving himself off the cool metal, Anakin stalked away from the office intent on one thing—his bed. Receiving his master's anger was never an easy thing, no matter how strong he was growing. Apart from the physical, there was a considerable oppression from the man's dark aura that left him drained. It was like peering behind the veil of the universe and seeing the true horror of which it was made. Certainly nothing like Obi-Wan's displeasure.

A smirk quirked one side of Anakin's mouth as he considered the idea of a reversal of roles between his previous master and his current. Try as he may, he could not imagine Obi-Wan capable of even a remote amount of Palpatine's darkness. On the other hand, once upon a time he had thought Palpatine capable of great good, however that illusion was shattered. Oh, the man had good points and a vast trove of knowledge that Anakin would tap, but he was no longer blind. Palpatine used his power for selfishness—indeed, a key tenet of the Sith—but Anakin believed it was in the interest of the self to control a galaxy of peace. Palpatine wanted order by the might of the fist and that was a part of an ideal grand design, but he cared little of the public's peace of mind. Anakin, on the other hand, viewed public peace as a key toward maintaining control.

Obi-Wan would revile him for such thoughts. He believed the role of the government was to guide the energy of the governed, nothing more. Let them carve their own fate within the boundaries of decency. It was a beautiful concept, one Anakin no longer thought sustainable. Sentient life was too disordered, too chaotic to make their own choices in harmony with the choices of others. In a way, creatures driven solely by base instinct were more intelligent about their role in the universe.

He was heading toward the speeder platforms when the figure of one of the senators came into view. Anakin had been steadily questioning those he knew had been political allies of his wife, trying to find some hint of her current whereabouts. So far he had come up empty. The senator ahead was one of the last he intended to speak with.

Picking up speed, Anakin stepped into stride with Senator Bail Organa, who stopped and gave a polite bow. "Lord Skywalker, is there anything I can do for you?" He was very cool and collected, but Anakin was aware of the man's political leanings. He knew Organa could never truly approve of the Galactic Empire, had even voted against its inception, but so far he seemed obedient to the changes. Anakin felt no great hostility from the man, a credit to his future with the Empire. "You look a little worse for wear, if you don't mind my saying. Are you well?"

Anakin waved him off, said, "Working hard, Senator. Working hard." He attuned his focus to Organa, assessing every nuance of his emotions, his reactions. "Could I have a brief word?"

"Of course," Organa replied easily. The two retreated to a nearby bench to stay out of the way of passing politicians and workers. The Senator of Alderaan faced Anakin, his hands neatly clasped before him. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

Anakin wasted no time with smalltalk. "You're aware that the Senator of Naboo is missing? That she is, in fact, my wife?" The senator nodded gravely. Trying to keep his emotions level, Skywalker went on, "Then you must know I'm heading the investigation into her disappearance. As a member of the Imperial Forces, any disappearances of prominent members of this governing body concerns me. As a husband..." He took a deep breath. "As a husband, her disappearance frightens me in a way I cannot begin to describe."

Compassion kindled in the senator. Anakin felt it in the Force, saw it in his face. "As a husband as well I can sympathize."

"Then you won't mind my asking if you know anything?"

That made Organa pause for a moment. Just a slight hesitation that piqued Anakin's interest. "We were friends and allies. And on top of that I would never sanction forced removal of any politician."

With a spike in frustration, Anakin shook his head. "No, you misunderstand. I wondered if perhaps Padme came to you for sanctuary or confided in you any plans to leave the Senate."

"I was not aware Senator Amidala needed sanctuary," he replied with measured confusion. His dark eyes mirrored concern. "I admit the changes of late have some of us off balance, but she is a level-headed, keen politician who knows how to adapt. Surely she has less to fear for her safety than ever before now that you're in a position to protect her from such malicious forces as those that railed against her before?" He shook his head. "No, Lord Skywalker, I'm afraid I have no information for you."

All politicians who had reached such high status as Senator would be skilled at building a finely crafted reply on the fly and Organa was no different than the other senators to whom Anakin had spoken. It was a marvel to see him fish for information even as he framed it as nothing more than his own opinion. Before, Anakin may not have put much thought into it, but now he could see clearly that Organa was attempting to find out just what sort of reason Padme would need for sanctuary—in other words, what sort of trouble was his friend in?

Whether or not this meant he truly had information or not remained to be seen. He could be assessing the situation on behalf of Padme by her request, could be gathering information to warn his friend in case she did contact him, or could even be assessing whether or not he should distance himself from a senator gone rogue. There were too many variables for one straight answer and inwardly Anakin felt his tension rise. What good did it do to analyze and analyze when it only created more questions? He preferred enemies he could come against in battle, straightforward with no questions asked.

Anakin nodded at Organa's reply and decided not to share any more information. "Thank you, Senator. If she does contact you would you please tell her I'm worried?"

The Senator stood up, his expression somber with an aura to match. He was sorry for the former Jedi, that much Anakin could sense. "Of course. You should rest, Lord Skywalker. The Empire needs you at your best. And I'm sure so does she."

With that the senator excused himself and for a long moment Anakin remained seated, waiting for the hallway to clear, taking advantage of the time to rest his aching body. A break in the passers made him remove his comm unit from his belt and radio Rex, his right-hand as far as the Clones went. "Hello, Rex. I have something I'd like you to check for me in regards to Senator Amidala."

"Yes, sir?"

"I'd like you to do a check on Senator Organa of Alderaan. See what he's been up to, if anything looks suspicious. Bank accounts, assets, ships, everything. And have his communications monitored on top priority."

The Clone on the other side of the communication acquiesced easily. "Of course, sir. Do you suspect he was involved with your wife's disappearance? Anything solid I can look at in particular?"

Anakin reflexively shook his head even though the Clone couldn't see him. "No, not really. Only the knowledge that they've spent time together."

"Close friends, sir?" he asked without innuendo, but Anakin could supply his own innuendo without help.

His fingers tightened around the comm unit as he said darkly, "She'd better hope not."

"Sir?" Rex sounded surprised at his tone, wary now. Anakin had a feeling he would be watching his words a little more closely from now on.

Forcing himself to relax, he brushed it aside. It was a foolish thought. "Forget I said anything. Just do as I command."

"Of course, sir. Rex out."

Closing the line, Anakin rose to his feet and stalked out of the Senate building, intent on returning home—the apartment where he had spent his happiest moments in life with the woman he loved. His marriage wasn't exactly common knowledge, but he made no strides to keep it secret anymore. After the apartment had been thoroughly explored he had claimed it for his own and spent his nights in their bed, chained to memories. Palpatine disapproved, but it was one thing Anakin was not willing to give up.

Not for anyone.

oOo

The ladies sat together upon a blanket that had been spread for them upon the queen's arrival to the outdoor spring festival, beneath a silken tent to keep the sun at bay. Not that Queen Breha was aloof from her people, no. In fact she was very engaged with them, speaking with those that would have her ear or offer her compliments. Assorted foods had been brought and they had a supply of wine to pass the time. Outside the tent there were various games to play, cultural activities and dancing. It was, altogether, a merry event. Alderaan was a truly magical place that could soothe even the most trying of worries.

True to their word, neither of the Jedi had done what anyone could term 'work activities', instead allowing her wish to direct them into a state of serenity that concealed the black deeds being done in the universe at large. It was refreshing to simply be, without expectation, without the heaviness of hard choices and dark thoughts. Lyra was reclined on the blanket in a very un-Jedi-like manner, arms crossed over her abdomen as she gazed from underneath the tent at the wind ruffling leaves in a tree. Obi-Wan was out among the people. She could sense his content as he observed the festival and his peace gave her peace. It would be short-lived, she knew. The choice he was trying to solidify in his mind was still there, still waiting to weigh him down later, but for now he had banished it from his thoughts.

Beside her, sipping sparkling juice, Padme smiled. "I think we've corrupted the Jedi," she remarked to Breha, who laughed softly. The Senator grinned at Lyra's lazy expression. "Alderaan agrees with you?"

"Oh, definitely," the Jedi replied, crossing her ankles beneath her dress. "I'm not sure this is exactly what Yoda had in mind for us. Someday a mission's going to take us by surprise and we'll be too lethargic to operate."

Breha looked out among her people proudly. Unable to have children herself, she had made her people her progeny and it showed in her love for them and they for her. Her eyes twinkled as a fire was lit; dusk was nearing. "We'll have to get you out from under this tent and into one of the games."

Padme let out a mock-gasp. "Jedi at play? Who ever heard of such a thing?"

Ah, but Jedi did play, Lyra thought with a pang of mourning as her memories sailed over young padawans testing their saber skills, Master Yoda making faces at a toddling young arrival at the creche. Even the adults played, in their own fashion. One in particular, when you caught him at it. "I'm sure Obi-Wan's playing enough for both of us."

"Where did he go?" Padme asked, taking some cheese and a cracker that was offered by a smiling old woman who wandered in and back out like the breeze.

Lyra swallowed, her muscles tightened briefly. "I think he's just out enjoying the contentment all around him." Saying goodbye, in case he never gets another chance. "Probably eating too much."

The very pregnant senator bit into another cracker. "I can't say I blame him."

At that point an important looking man wandered by the tent and asked Breha to come greet his wife. The queen seemed happy to oblige and with a promise of her return, disappeared into the festival. Lyra sat up, no longer at complete ease. Her companion wasn't either. Taking another drink of her juice, not directly meeting her eyes, Padme said, "You care for each other very much."

A wind brushed Lyra's hair across her face as she gazed into the nearby fire. "Yes." She had wondered when the senator would have the courage to broach the subject. She had sensed Padme's attention on her increasing these past few days and could attribute it to nothing else.

Padme finally looked at her Jedi companion, prompting Lyra to meet her concerned gaze. "Are you together? Breaking the Code?" Tension suffused Lyra. How could she reply without causing Padme anger or pain? Her silence was enough to tell the senator all she needed to know. There was no anger in her gaze, but she was troubled. "It's not my place to say anything, but through Anakin I came to know Obi-Wan. I care for him as a friend. I would hate to see him falter."

"I know," Lyra replied softly. She drew her arms together in the chill of early evening, trying to think her way through her answer, to find the words that would put Padme at ease. It was the first among many answers they would have to give to others who did not understand or would worry. "We have talked about the reasons attachment is forbidden and we have come to an understanding for each situation. That is by no means perfect protection. We both realize this. But it's..."

When she trailed off, Padme finished for her. "Complicated. I know that firsthand." She exhaled a breath and looked far away—an expression she used when thinking of her husband. "I know Obi-Wan is not like Anakin. Not every situation is the same. I don't even fully understand what happened with Anakin."

The senator was examining her fingers absently, her aura clenched in pain. Moved, Lyra reached out and put her hand on Padme's shoulder to comfort her. "You should know something." Dark eyes met shining ones. They were wet and Lyra squeezed her shoulder. "Obi-Wan is going to go to him."

Padme's tears fell. She wiped them hastily, shook her head at Lyra. "No. It's too dangerous. You can't let him."

"I can't stop him." Nor would she, if it was his desire to go. It would be asking him to deny his own nature. "He wants to try and talk to Anakin. He wants to try to save him."

Covering her mouth, Padme was silent for a long moment, shaking her head in fear at the idea. Every bit of terror the senator felt Lyra felt it tenfold. Finally, lightly touching the corners of her eyes, Padme composed herself and said, "If anyone could it would be him. Anakin loves him, no matter what he's done or how he's acted. I know he does. But it could be a trap. Saying that about my own husband is more painful than you can know, but none of us can deny the possibility. I never thought half of what I saw on that recording was possible, but..." She couldn't go on, but instead rested put her hand over Lyra's in a gesture of thanks.

There was only one thing she could say to Padme's truth. "Obi-Wan feels Anakin's heart and soul are worth the risk." Lyra refilled the senator's glass for her, tried to lighten the somber mood with, "And he might just escape the trap if there is one. He is a Jedi Master."

"Who's a Jedi Master?" his light voice asked from the side. Obi-Wan had sensed the gravity of their discussion, had waited to insert himself when he felt their emotions level. He sank down onto the blanket with a tray of assorted sweets and cheeses. "I know you certainly couldn't be referring to me. I've decided to become a fat, pampered nobleman." He held up the tray for the two women, simultaneously grabbed a glass of wine a servant offered.

"Maybe one of those things, anyways," Lyra remarked, taking a few cookies.

Padme looked at Obi-Wan very seriously, unwilling to be diverted. "Coruscant is dangerous. I want Anakin to abandon this madness more than anything else. I miss him, the good him. But I wouldn't feel right if I didn't urge you to reconsider your choice to go to him. The Jedi who survived the killing order need you."

He gave Lyra a pointed look, but said nothing in rebuke. "I have reconsidered several times," he replied gently, his heart in his voice. "But what kind of master would I be if I didn't try? I failed to teach him what he needed to know to pass this trial. If he hadn't asked I come to him directly, in private, I might not be making this choice, but he did and I...I take it as a sign that maybe part of him wants to be saved. Do you understand?"

The senator nodded, not comforted by any means, but in understanding of his resolution. "Then my heart goes with you. Be careful, Obi-Wan. And come back to us."

"That's the plan." His voice was easy, but his emotions still mired in doubt. He took a drink of his wine, again watching the crowd in their joyful celebration of rebirth and beauty on their world. For a while the three of them sat beneath the tent watching as the firelight grew more intense as the night draped across the sky. They were content to speak of smaller, less emotionally charged things, and a sense of serenity returned.

Then Obi-Wan stood and offered his hand to Lyra, helping her up as he said, "Walk with me. If you would excuse us, Padme?"

Padme nodded and Obi-Wan directed Lyra into a lazy walk among the people, at some point taking her hand in his as they explored. Was this his goodbye to her? Would he leave tonight? Tomorrow morning? Her heart clenched at the thought of it, but she said not a word that would make him change his mind. Instead she savored every second as the gift that it was.

At the end of one of the rows there was a flower stand where they stopped. With a playful smile he said, "I think you need something for your hair." Lyra gave him an odd look, but smiled as he made a show of selecting just the right one. When he finally felt he had made the right choice, he thumbed a credit transfer and turned to present it for her inspection.

Looking at the soft thing in his hands, Lyra felt herself go a little breathless. She reached up and touched it, then let her fingers slide off the petals onto his warm skin. There was a gravity about him that confirmed what she had suspected all evening. All he had to do was speak to confirm it.

With a distracted smile, Obi-Wan fixed the flower behind her ear and stood back to admire his handiwork. His sky-colored eyes were very wistful and her heart muscles felt clenched. "I've decided to go tomorrow." He huffed a breath as his gaze scanned the crowd. "I'm learning the dangers of attachment. I don't want to leave you. These past few weeks..."

"Shh," she urged, pressing a hand to his chest gently. "Do what you must, Obi-Wan. Don't forget, I care for Anakin as well. I would like to see him return to the Lightside."

Her acquiescence moved him. She could sense his gratitude as he wrapped her into his arms, rubbing the side of his face against hers. "Thank you. Thank you for supporting me."

"I want to go back to the estate," she whispered against his hair.

He nodded, his desire kindled by her gentle urging, and again took her hand. Neither the queen nor senator remarked on the flower in Lyra's hair when they returned, but agreed to call it a night and returned with them to the mountain retreat. The night was peaceful, the stars gentle watchers in the skies that kept wanderers safe whether they roamed back to royal mansions or humble abodes in the countryside. Night birds lulled the region as they readied for bed. It was perfect, idyllic. It would stay with Lyra forever, hopefully passing to the descendants who gained her memories and teaching them the power of love, selflessness and the Lightside of the Force.

But it was also bittersweet. That night the two Jedi reveled in the forbidden, in making love as two dedicated to no other. In the morning he said goodbye to her for the sake of his padawan's soul.

oOo

Thanks for reading!