Hello, everyone. There seems to be a bit of concern arising about Obi-Wan and Padmé getting too close. I can promise you, this is NOT going to turn into an Obi-Wan/Padmé love story. Padmé is not going to cheat on Anakin or fall in love with Obi-Wan.

However, as you can probably tell, Obi-Wan is starting to have feelings for Padmé. It might seem a little out-of-character (and I apologize if it does), but, to be realistic, I think a man in Obi-Wan's positon would start to have affections for her. They've been friends for ages; they've been through so much together, they've been living together for years, and they're raising two children together.

HOWEVER, I can assure you, Obi-Wan is not going to let this go any further than feelings. He is a good man with high morals, and he is loyal to his friends. He respects Padmé as Anakin's wife, and, for that reason, he tries to ignore his feelings. As well as that fact that he is still a Jedi, and he wants to honor the Code.

I hope everyone will be okay with this, and I hope it will not discourage you from reading.

Thanks again to everyone for being so awesome! Just to have people reading this and supporting me is incredible, and every time I get a review or message or favorite or follow, it makes my day! Thanks again.

Without further delay, I hope you enjoy the next chapter. Sorry if it seems a little slow. Things are going to pick up again soon, I promise.

Sworn to Darkness

Chapter XIV

When Anakin was a nineteen-year-old padawan, he and Obi-Wan were assigned to be bodyguards for Senator Amidala. It was the first time Anakin had seen Padmé in ten years. He remembered getting in the ship with Obi-Wan to fly to Coruscant and almost hitting an asteroid twice, because he couldn't concentrate on flying. He remembered standing in that elevator, unable to contain his excitement or his nerves. He remembered being unable to stand still, and he remembered Obi-Wan telling him to calm down. He remembered feeling pure happiness, but, at the same time, being scared out of his wits.

Anakin felt the same way now.

He had not seen his wife or his children or his brother in three years, and he had no idea what to expect. He knew Padmé would run to him and hug him and kiss him and cling to him and cry on him, and he knew she would cry again when the time came for him to go. He knew Padmé would be waiting with a faithful and longing heart. But Luke and Leia…

His children. He did not know if they would even know who he was. He was sure they would not remember him. They were newborns the last time he saw them, which was three years ago. He did not know if they would warm up to him, or if they would love him, or if they would be afraid of him and hide behind Padmé. He did not even know if Obi-Wan would let him tell them that he was their father.

Obi-Wan.

That name was the one that made Anakin most afraid. He had talked to Obi-Wan several times over their comlinks since he left Alderaan; however, talking through static-ridden devices and talking to each other face to face was completely different. Anakin did not know what it would be like to see his brother again. Was Obi-Wan still angry at him? Had he even began to forgive him? Were they brothers again? Were they friends? Or, were they merely allies? He did not know what Obi-Wan would do or say when he saw him. Anakin did not know what he would say to Obi-Wan either. Thank you, he guessed. Thank you for protecting my family.

Anakin had been notified by the Rebel Base, and he knew Padmé and the children were not harmed in the raid on their home. That was the greatest news he heard in three years. His eyes filled with tears when they told him this, and he struggled to keep his voice even for the rest of the conversation, which could not have gone better, because when it concluded, he was going to see his family again.

"There she is," Anakin said softly, as the planet of his birth appeared before him. He slammed the control-yoke forward, and the ship sped toward Tatooine. Within the next minute, he put the ship down in the middle of a barren desert. She had barely landed when Anakin popped open the cockpit and leaped out of the ship.

Black boots sunk into the scorching desert sand, and Anakin took off running. The air was thick and hard to breathe. The heat of two suns bore down on him. Within seconds, he could feel sweat running down his body and dampening his dark robes.

He never thought he would return to this place. He hated this place. This was where he spent his childhood imprisoned as a slave, this was where he left his mother behind to go off to be a Jedi, this was where he returned to save his mother but only to watch her die in his arms. After Shmi was killed, Anakin had nothing left in this desert wasteland. He did not think he would ever return, and he did not intend to.

Until today, when Petiuit said Obi-Wan Kenobi was rumored to be on Tatooine.

Maybe, it was fate that brought him back. Maybe, just coincidence. Maybe, the Force. No matter what it was, Anakin did not care. Suddenly, he loved this planet. Suddenly, Tatooine was his home. It was home not because this was where he was born and raised, but because this was where his family was now. This was where he would, finally, see them again.

Anakin ran for perhaps five minutes, before the tall Vaporators of a moisture farm appeared over the burning dunes. His heart swelled with joy, and his gut churned with anxiety. "Padmé," he whispered. Darth Vader's cold expression melted away, and Anakin's face lit up like the sun. He smiled brighter than he had smiled in all his life. He ran toward the farm.

He made it over the dunes, and the house appeared too. Anakin's heart pounded wilder than ever, more from anxiety and ecstasy than from running. He ran toward the house. Wind whipped past his ears, but he did not hear it. The heat bore down on him, but he did not feel it. His lungs—which had never been the same since Mustafar—contracted into tight knots, his airways closed up, his chest pulsated with pain, and he could hardly breathe, but he did not even notice. His legs were moving as fast as they could; his eyes were fixed on the closed door; his mind was too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts; his heart yearned for the moment when he would run inside and see his family.

He did not make it to the house. He was still an acre away, when the front door burst open and a woman with long brown hair and deep brown eyes ran out. She must have been waiting for him. As soon as she saw him running across the desert, she ran out to meet him.

Anakin's heart gave way.

Over the last three years, every thought, every feeling, every longing inside of Anakin, Darth Vader had to hide. He put up a stone wall—an impenetrable dam, constructed to hold back even the fiercest current—in front of his heart, and it held back his emotions. It kept them inside of him. It hid them from the Emperor. It prevented them from leaking out. However, over those three years, emotion was slowly building up, rising like water behind the dam, pressing against it, filling up, getting to the top—build the dam a little high so it won't overflow…

Darth Vader managed to keep his heart at bay.

Anakin saw this woman, and the dam broke.

A stone wall shattered like glass and came crashing down. Anakin's soul came rushing forward like a current of clear water. Everything came pouring out. A smile burst radiantly on his lips. The sun, itself, was not as bright as his face. Elation, rapture, pure rejoicing flowed from every pour in his skin. Tears, like the cleansing water of baptism, washing away his sin, his sorrows, and his fears—washing away the past—fell from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Anakin did not try to stop them.

"Padmé!" Anakin yelled, as he gazed across the hot sand at his wife. He ran faster.

"Anakin!" Padmé cried out in return.

Her voice! The sweet, beautiful, precious sound, which Anakin had been deprived of for the last three years. This voice was the voice of an angel. It was music; it was sunlight; it was the moon and the stars and everything good left in this fallen world. It was the most beautiful sound Anakin had ever heard.

Anakin ran toward Padmé. Padmé ran toward Anakin. They stared into each others eyes, and the whole world around them was gone. In this moment, there was nothing expect the two of them: running toward each other, desperate to touch each other again. They did not see the desert, or hear the wind, or feel the heat, or the pounding of their hearts. They did not care about the war, or the Rebellion, or the Empire, or anything else in the galaxy. In this moment, it was only them. Only them two. Deeply in love, as if it was the first time, and, finally, after three years apart, together one more time.

Their bodies collided. They did not feel the pain of the fierce impact or the discomfort in their chests as their breath was knocked out of their lungs. They threw their arms around each other and held on for dear life.

Padmé threw her arms around Anakin. His arms closed around her back, and he lifted her off of the ground. He scooped her up in his arms and spun her around. Padmé laughed in pure happiness, clinging to him and burring her face against him as he twirled her. At last, her feet touched the sand, and they stood before each other, their bodies pressed together, locked in a tight embrace.

She gripped him as tightly as she could, desperately, violently. She sunk her fingers into his clothes and gripped it in fists. She buried her face on his shoulder. She clutched the back of his head and cradled it against herself. She closed her eyes and cried.

Anakin pulled Padmé into him and held her into his chest. He felt the warmth of her delicate body against him. He felt the touch of her smooth skin against his. Her ran his hand down her back and through her long hair, and, even though it was made of metal,somehow, he could still feel her. He closed his eyes and held her against him. They held each other, as if they were afraid to let go. They held each other, as if holding on to life, itself.

"Anakin! Oh, Anakin!" Padmé cried in a whisper, as she clung to him. "Ani, is it really you!?"

"Of course, it's me," Anakin answered with a soft laugh against her ear. He smiled through his tears and kissed the side of her head. "Padmé… Let me see you."

He pulled back slightly so he could look into her face. She looked exactly the same. Of course, she was not dressed in an elegant gown, and her face was not decorated in make-up, and her hair was just pulled back in a simple, half-falling-out braid, but she still looked the same. That sun-kissed skin and worn-out clothes did nothing to hide her beauty. Padmé had not aged a day. She was exactly the same: unchanged, unwavering, faithful. Like a northern star. Her face was as stainless as her heart, which had never falter for even a faction of a second, which had continued to love Anakin every moment, whose love had not faded with time but only grown stronger.

"Padmé…" Anakin whispered in awe and adoration. He in gazed into her beautiful face, her warm brown eyes, which looked straight back into his. Tears glittered like diamonds on her pretty cheeks. The tears of an angel. Padmé was an angel. There was no other explanation. What other woman could be so pure, so faithful, so forgiving, even after all of this time, even after everything her husband had done her wrong? Only Padmé. Only his angel.

Tears anew fell from Anakin's eyes. He took her cheek gently in his hand and softly stroked her cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but he could not find words. So, he just leaned in and kissed her. They closed their eyes, as their lips met for the first time in three years.

Warmth rushed through them both. It spread immediately through their entire bodies, fulling them like oxygen, like the sweetest aroma, or the purest water. Love swelled inside of them. Like light making the darkness fade and vanish, love chased out all else. It healed them like medicine. It healed everything. Even though the entire galaxy was crumpling around them, everything was going to be alright, they both knew, because they were both together again, and because they both loved each other.

"Oh, Anakin," Padmé sighed, when their kiss ended at last. She closed her eyes and buried herself in his embrace, leaning against his shoulder, letting his arms envelope her like a blanket. She wrapped her arms around his back and strained her muscles clutching him so tightly. "I've been thinking about you every second," she whispered through trembling and through tears. "I've been praying for you every night. Praying for this moment… Praying that you would come home… so we would be together again… and Luke and Leia would see their father again…"

"I'm here, Padmé," Anakin said softly, his lips brushing affectionately against her ear. "I'm here."

"Anakin, I've missed you." Padmé pulled back to look at him. She took his cheeks in both of her hands and clutched his face so she could gaze into his eyes. "Oh, I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you, Padmé." Anakin leaned forward so his forehead rested against her forehead, his hands rested on her waist. He closed his eyes. "Every second… I've missed you more than you can imagine."

"No, Anakin, I can imagine it. I've missed you the same."

"It's been torture… being away from you and the children."

"I know, Anakin, I know."

"All I wanted for three years, was to see you again."

"Me too, Anakin. Me too…"

"I love you, Padmé." Anakin opened his eyes and looked into Padmé's. "I love you," his whispered again.

"I love you, Anakin," Padmé vowed as well.

"I've always loved you. And I always will."

Anakin leaned in and kissed her again. And again. He kissed her on the lips, and then on the cheek, and then on the forehead, and on the lips again. He would have been content just to hold her in his arms forever and kiss her again and again. However, his contentment transfigured into rapture, when a new voice—a voice that Anakin had never heard before, and, yet, he recognized it at once—called out to him.

"Daddy!"

Anakin and Padmé turned their heads and opened their eyes (breaking apart from a passionate kiss), and, to the astonishment of them both, saw their three-year-old son running toward them across the sand.

Anakin stared at the child. Shocked. Speechless.

No. There was no way Luke remembered him. There was no way Luke even knew who he was. Luke was a newborn the last time Anakin saw him. The mere thought that the child could remember him was preposterous. Outrageous. Impossible. And, yet…

"Daddy!" Luke cried again. He kept running toward Anakin, stumbling on his little legs as he hurried across the desert. Even if Luke did not know Anakin, he clearly knew Anakin was his father. That alone was more than Anakin could have wished for.

"Luke!" the father shouted to his son. His heart leaped into his throat, as overpowering joy took its place in his chest. A smile even broader still illuminated his face like sunlight.

Anakin took off running. He reached his son in a matter of seconds and swooped him up off of the ground. He lifted the child up high over his head. Luke kicked his feet gleefully, as Anakin spun him around, and the child felt like he was flying. Both the father and son laughed, before Anakin pulled Luke down into his chest and cradled him against his shoulder, and they both cried.

"Oh, Luke…" Anakin whispered in a quivering voice. He held his son tightly in his arms, unwilling to let him go. He cradled his tiny head against his shoulder, clutching his whole head with one hand. "My boy…" Tears filled up Anakin's eyes. "My baby… I missed you."

"Daddy…" Luke whimpered, as he clung to his father. Anakin could understand him perfectly. "I was scared," the child whispered, "…you we're going to come back…"

If Anakin was shocked before, now he was… beyond shocked. Before he left Alderaan three years ago, when Luke and Leia were still in their crib, hardly able to understand anything except who their parents were and that their parents loved them, Anakin kissed them each goodbye and promised he would see them again one day. He promised he would come back. But Luke could not have remembered that. He could not even have understood what his father was saying. Then, how…

Anakin could not begin to understand.

"I came back, Luke," Anakin whispered into his son's ear. He blinked his eyes hard, trying to force back tears. "No matter what happens, I promise, I will always come back. I will always come back for you. I promise."

Luke, his face buried, nodded against Anakin's shoulder.

Tears spilt out Anakin's eyes, and his throat tightened into a knot as he tried to say these next words. His voice cracked as he whispered, "I love you, Luke. I love you so much…" His turned his face closer toward the child and kissed the top of his head, his velvety blonde curls. Anakin closed his eyes, and tears ran, like peaceful streams, down his cheeks. He wiped his eyes with one gloved-hand, before Luke leaned back to look at him, so the child did not know his father had been crying.

Anakin held Luke in his arms. He smiled, laughing and at the same time trying not to cry, as he looked into his son's face. Luke still had blue eyes. He had long, blonde curls, as soft as silk. His skin was milky and smooth, despite growing up in the harsh conditions of this planet. He was small—tiny. He barely weighed anything, as Anakin held him in his half-mechanical arms. The child had grown so much, and yet he was so much the same. He was so much the same as he was three years ago when he woke up crying in the night, and Anakin held him in his arms until he fell asleep, listening to the sound of his father's heart.

Padmé was at Anakin's side now. She beamed at them both. First, she kissed her son's cheek, and then she kissed her husbands. For the first time in three years, she was completely and fully happy. Even the hair-line cracks in her fractured heart were mended. Her heart was made new. It was not broken anymore.

"Where's your sister?" Anakin asked the child in his arms. Luke twisted around in Anakin's embrace and pointed toward the house. Anakin turned his head. The door of the adobe was now open, and two people were standing in the entrance, looking out and watching this happy reunion. One of them was a child. A little girl. Leia.

She looked just like Padmé. She was clothed in a simple but pretty cream-colored dress. Her deep, dark eyes were like chocolate, but they glittered like gold in the sunlight. Her long brown hair was pulled into two buns, one on each side of her head. Her face was sweet, and innocent, and beautiful. Just like her mother. God, she looked just like her mother…

Leia was usually the braver of the two children. However, for once, she was showing more shyness than Luke. Instead of running to greet her father, whom she did not know or remember, she stayed half-hidden behind the legs and holding the hand of the father she did know. The father she did love.

When Anakin could finally bring himself to look away from his daughter, his eyes flickered upward to see the man. He frowned, bewildered and a bit startled. He did not recognize— Wait. Was that… Obi-Wan!?

At first, Anakin was astonished at how different Obi-Wan looked. But, then, at second glance, he realized Obi-Wan really did not look that different, at all. The biggest difference, in fact, was that Anakin had never before seen Obi-Wan when he wasn't wearing Jedi robes. Now, he was wearing the simple attire of a Tatooine moister farmer. His hair was longer, like it was when he was a Knight, and it was blonder too, bleached by two suns, which brought out the red highlights as well. His skin was tanner, and his cheeks a bit sunburned. Anakin also noticed the nasty rash coming up on his face—Petiuit's doings, he knew for sure. Sithspit.

Still, none of these things made Obi-Wan look especially different. What was it then? Anakin could not quite put his finger on it. Obi-Wan did not look much older, so it wasn't age. It was… It was something about his eyes, Anakin realized, at last. Something about the expression, the warmth in them. The happiness. Yes, that was it. Happiness was something Anakin was not used to seeing in his master. At least, not like this.

A small smile appeared on Obi-Wan lips, as Anakin met his gaze. "Welcome home," he said amiably, although perhaps a bit tensely. Yet, he spoke sincerely when he went on, "It's good to see you again, Anakin."

Anakin found himself smiling warmly back at Obi-Wan. "It's good to see you too, Obi-Wan." Luke in one arm and Padmé clinging to the other, Anakin approached the house. "Thank you for taking care of my family," Anakin said earnestly. "Thank you for… thank you for everything. I can't begin to repay you…"

"You don't have to," Obi-Wan dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand and a good-natured smile. Because what Anakin had already given Obi-Wan was more than any Jedi could have hoped for. Unintentionally, unknowingly—but, it seems, everything happens for a reason, even the dark, terrible things that seem nothing good can come out of—Anakin had given Obi-Wan a family.

Anakin's eyes shifted, and he looked own at his daughter again. Wide brown eyes stared up at him. Leia did not recoil, but neither did she look eager to meet him. Luke still in on arm, Anakin kneeled down slowly in front of his daughter. "Hi, Leia," he said gently. "Do you remember me?"

Leia shook her head. "No."

Anakin grinned. At least, she's honest, he thought. Brutally honest. Kind of like her father was at that age.

"I'm your daddy," he told her. "You were really little last time I saw you."

Leia didn't answer. She just continued to stare at Anakin, unsmiling, looking him up and down, as if trying to decide whether or not she liked him. She tightened her grip on Obi-Wan's hand—which, Anakin realized with a pang of guilt, was still covered in scars. Scars from Mustafar.

"Leia," Obi-Wan spoke up. His voice was gentle and, yet, firm at the same time. "Give your father a hug."

Leia raised her face and stared up at Obi-Wan. The expression on her face and the glint in her eyes was enough to ask, Do I have to?

And the look Obi-Wan returned was enough to inform her, Yes, you do.

Leia unhappily turned away from Obi-Wan and stared at Anakin, once more. Slowly, grudgingly, she let go of Obi-Wan's hand and approached her father. Anakin's smile grew and glowed, as his daughter came to him. He pulled her into his arms. Leia loosely hugged his shoulder, but Anakin held her in strong embrace against him, and she did not resist. He kissed her on the head, the top of her glossy hair. "I love you," he whispered in is daughter's ear. "I love you so much…" He kissed her again, before he let her go and rose to his feet.

"Come inside, Anakin," Padmé urged, pulling on his arm. "I just finished dinner; you're just in time!"

"Perfect," Anakin beamed, as he followed her inside. His son in his arm, his wife clinging to his shoulder, his daughter close by, and his brother holding her hand… This was more than he could have dreamed of. This was what he wanted, all along, Anakin realized, at last. This was all he ever wanted. His family. To be with them. To be happy, and to be free. When he was a child, he thought his dream was to be a Jedi, but he was wrong. His one, true dream was to have a family. Now, for this one day, that dream came true.

"Well, bless my circuits! If it isn't the Maker, himself! Master Anakin! How good it is to see you again!"

"3PO!" A wide grin spread across Anakin's face, as he looked across the room and, sure enough, there was the very protocol droid he built when he was a child. And, beside C-3PO, was, to Anakin's even greater delight, the little astromech droid, R2-D2, who helped him survive the Clone Wars. "R2!" Anakin laughed. "Good to see you again, little buddy!"

"Your droids have missed you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a chuckle, a note of playful mockery in his voice. It had long been debate between the master and his padawan, whether droids were actually capable of thinking and feeling, like Anakin swore, or whether they were just a box of circuits and wires. As far as Anakin was concerned, droids were lifeforms just like everyone else (even though, as Obi-Wan often pointed out, they weren't actually alive), and he did not think of them as machines but friends.

"Well, I've missed them, too," Anakin said with a grin, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. However, he was still smiling. They both were.

Padmé was in ecstasy like none of them had seem her before. She bustled about the house, as if there was not a thing wrong with the world, as if there was no war, no rebellion, no Sith, and no Dark Side, as if every sorrow or hardship was only a bad dream, and the galaxy was perfect. As if this one day would last forever. She was practically bouncing as she went about the dinning room, beaming and laughing and kissing her husband, her son, and her daughter every time she passed one of them. They had never seen her so happy.

She ushered them all into their chairs around the table, refusing their many offers to help her, and served them each copious amounts of food. When their plates were filled with more than they could possibly eat, she sat herself down beside Anakin. Leia sat on Padmé's other side, Luke sat beside Anakin, and Obi-Wan kept his distance beside Leia at other end of the table. Yet, Anakin could sense in the Force, where he was sitting now was usually where Obi-Wan sat.

Luke hardly stopped talking long enough to take a few bites of food. The child eagerly rushed to tell his father all about his adventures on Tatooine, how he and Leia rode in the speeder, how they helped Ben with the Vaporators, how they went to the town to sell water, about all of the things they had seen there, and, of course, about the Imperial troops who had raided their house just earlier that day. Soon, Leia started interjecting. ("No, Luke, it was like this!"she corrected him, and then she proceeded to tell the story her way, which was pretty much the same.) Before long, she was taking over as lead-storyteller, barely giving Luke chance to say a few words.

By the time dinner was over, Leia had stopped clinging to Obi-Wan. In fact, she seemed as comfortable with Anakin as Luke did. Looking at the three, they appeared a normal family, a normal father with his normal children. One could not have guessed that they had been apart for three years, or that the last time these children saw their father, they were infants.

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, as he glanced across the room to behold this happy family. Anakin and Padmé were sitting on the couch together, side by side, hand in hand, and their children were bouncing back and forth between the two of them, unable to sit still, fervently telling them everything they could think to tell. One minute, Luke was in Anakin's lap and Leia in Padmé's; the next minute, Leia was in Anakin's lap and Luke in Padmé's; and the next minute, they were both in Anakin's lap. This was the happiest Obi-Wan could remember seeing any of them in a long time, Anakin, Padmé, and the children. It made him very happy.

And, yet… for some reason that he could not understand, it also made him very… sad.

He knew he had no place in this family. Anakin was his brother—or at least he was once—but, even still, Obi-Wan could not help but feel a bit out of place here. As if he was intruding. As if they would all be more comfortable if he was gone. Perhaps, it was just in his head. Yet, whether it was real or not, it was enough to remind him: as much as he would have liked to believe otherwise, this family was not his own. This was Anakin's family. Not his. He could not forget that.

Obi-Wan looked away. He fixed his eyes on the plate in his hands (after dinner, he insisted on doing the dishes, mostly to give Anakin and Padmé some time to themselves, and they were just so eager to be together that they agreed) and found it was easier to stare at the dishes than at the family. He let out a heavy sigh, trying to release some of the tension building up in his chest. His lungs seemed to contract at this. His chest felt tight. It hurt.

He was not feeling his best right now. The rash on his face stung, of course, but his throat hurt too. His head ached a bit, and he felt a little sick to his stomach...

That was odd.

A moment ago, the pain was so vague that Obi-Wan barely noticed it. All of the sudden, it hit him like a tsunami wave. Out of nothing. Without warning. Devastating. He was lightheaded, and dizzy, and nauseous… He felt like he might throw up. He felt awful.

Obi-Wan raised his hand to cover his mouth, as the spontaneous reflex to gag took grip on him. A wave of painful coughing tore through him. It hurt his chest, and his throat, and his head, too…

"Are you alright, Ben?" Padmé's voice called obviously from the other room. "Are you feeling okay? That cough doesn't sound good."

"Yes, I'm fine," Obi-Wan answered hoarsely.

He believed it was true, until he opened his eyes and saw the outstretched palm in front of his face, the palm that had covered his mouth. It was splattered in blood.