A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back again after a bit of a longer absence than I originally anticipated. Work got the best of me for a long time, but I've had a bit more time to myself lately and that has made keeping up with my personal writing a whole lot easier. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for your kind words on the previous one :)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE CRUEL IRONY OF FATE

There was no blood on his hands because the saber cauterised all wounds, but he might as well be covered in rivers of the stuff. He deserved to be, deserved to have more of a physical indicator of the cold-blooded act he had just committed than merely the sinking feeling that plunged his stomach right down to his feet.

Moments before, Anakin had felt more powerful than he had ever felt in his life. It had coursed through him, seeming to replace even the very blood in his veins with its thrilling strength. He had been sure he was a hero. Now he just felt cold and sick, like the little slave boy from Tatooine sitting in the frigid belly of a ship taking him far away into space.

What would she say about this? That was the only thing he could think right now. What would Padmé say about this?

For a brief moment he considered whether he could hide what had happened from her, but he knew he couldn't. Padmé would find out. Either he would tell her, or she would find out some other way. Maybe this would even end up on the Holo-News. That thought made him feel even worse.

Anakin rose to his full height, not even properly registering that he had been on his knees before. He gave the lifeless body that lay on the metal platform before him another look, but he could only stand a few seconds.

"What have I done?" he whispered to himself. He had never done anything like this before. He had never taken a defenceless life in cold blood.

Except that he had. He had done this once before.

The Sand People on Tatooine had been slaughtered by his own hand that dark night, when all he had been able to see was the blue glow of his saber's blade as it had cut through them all one by one. The men, the women, the children. All of them.

"I slaughtered them like animals." He repeated the chilling words that he had admitted to Padmé the morning after it had happened in strangled tones. As he had done that dark deed, it had made him feel so powerful. It was the same way that what he had done here had initially made him feel. He had been focusing only on that pure sense of power, of how good it had made him feel both then and now. But he had forgotten the terrible aftermath of such a crime.

Anakin remembered the look that had passed across Padmé's face so briefly when he had told her what he had done to the Sand People. Before she had comforted him, her face containing nothing but pity, it had contained fear. Only for a brief moment, but it had been there. That tiny flicker still haunted him.

The slaughter of the Sand People was something Anakin never spoke of, constantly trying to hide it from himself. But, it had happened, and there was no way he could ever take it back. Just like what had happened here, up on this high and lonely platform in a less-trafficked part of the busy Coruscant city.

Anakin wondered if somehow his hatred from that time had infected him. Maybe it had wormed its way into his soul and lain dormant until now, and then it had unleashed itself upon the poor woman who lay on the floor before him. He wondered how much of his own true self had been behind the actions of tonight. Was he a murderer? No. He couldn't be.

Anakin suddenly remembered how he had felt in the second before he had killed the woman. It had been like it was no longer his true self in control anymore. He had felt like a puppet. That feeling was gone now, though, and Anakin wondered if it had ever even been real. Had it just been a way of compartmentalising what he was doing, a way to try and rid himself of some of the blame for his own actions?

When Padmé found out what he had done this time, even though he had done it to protect her, to save her life (at least, that's what he kept telling himself over and over again, repeating the mantra in time with his shallow breathing), he didn't think her expression would be one of pity this time.

Anakin stepped back a little from the corpse, as if physical distance could help to erase some of his culpability for the woman's death. He knew he had to leave – Coruscant was overflowing with beings at all hours of the day. He would be discovered soon.

He had to get rid of the body first, though - he couldn't just leave it up here for anyone to find. And so, with a notable lurch in his stomach as he did so, Anakin used the Force to levitate the body off the side of the platform, where it then fell to unknown depths. He didn't know where it eventually came to rest because he couldn't bear to watch it fall.

When the body was gone, Anakin jumped on to the speeder bike that lay precariously on its side a little way from him. He took off, and as he streaked through the lanes of traffic towards the Chancellor's office, he didn't look back once. He couldn't.

OOOOO

"Well done, my boy," Palpatine said. The old man leaned back in his tall chair indulgently, as if Anakin's news had been a delicious feast he had devoured and enjoyed.

"Uh… thank you, Chancellor," Anakin replied, but he didn't mean it.

Palpatine's cold eyes appraised him for a moment. "Are you alright, Anakin? I thought you would be more pleased at what has occurred. Not only have you rid the city of a vile terrorist, you have discovered the lair of the rest of them!"

Anakin nodded without thinking about what he was doing. "I am pleased, of course I am. I'm also very tired. Could I be excused to return home and rest?"

"Of course," said Palpatine. "You deserve some rest before your next mission. You will need to infiltrate the base of operations for the Free Voices, of course, and I doubt that task will be very easy."

Anakin's jaw tensed. That mission would also no doubt involve more violence. He bowed to the Chancellor before turning to leave, but stopped halfway to the door.

"What is it, Anakin?" Palpatine asked, as the young man turned to face him once more.

"Chancellor… do you think what happened tonight will be on the Holo-News? The death of that woman, I mean?"

Palpatine smiled. "I don't doubt it, my boy. Soon, everyone will know of your service to me. And soon, all of our enemies will fear you."

It was not the answer Anakin had been hoping for.

"You did the right thing, Anakin," Palpatine spoke again. Anakin was surprised that the man could zero in on what was bothering him so well without Anakin having even mentioned it once.

Anakin nodded, his shoulders stiff. He began to walk away again as Palpatine continued to speak. Anakin knew it was rude to ignore the Chancellor like this, but at that moment nothing in him was capable of caring.

"Trust me. This is the way to keep the galaxy safe. It's the way to keep your wife safe."

The Chancellor's words gnawed at him as he made his way home to Padmé. Could peace ever truly be won by such violence?

OOOOO

Anakin knew what had happened before he even entered the apartment. The connection he shared with Padmé through the Force, usually so strong, felt strangely distant, as if it were cut off from one end. She knew what had happened. It must already be on the Holo-News.

Anakin walked slowly into the living room. The slower he went, the more time he could avoid Padmé. He didn't think he could bare to see the anger that would most certainly be present in her eyes.

He listened to the sound of the Holo-News broadcast, his stomach sinking again.

"Investigators have discovered the body of a young woman, twenty-five years old, in the lower levels of Coruscant. The woman, now identified as Elenara Fiaretti, is also a member of the terrorist group known as the Free Voices. The group, who operate out of an as-yet unknown location on Coruscant, have been vocal in their disdain for the leadership of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and the alleged corruption in the Senate. They have called for more opportunity for those citizens living in the Lower Levels of the city. In the past, the Free Voices have organised violent riots, attacked the private residences of several politicians, and were even rumoured to have been planning an attack on the Senate Complex itself.

"Not much more is known about the Free Voices except that their leader is very mysterious and their membership is rumoured to be increasing as more and more Coruscanti grow disillusioned with the war and with the leaders behind it.

"Fiaretti's cause of death has yet to be officially determined, but her injuries are certainly startling. She has damage to her body that would indicate she fell from a great height. Even stranger is the wound to her abdomen. It seems as if she has been impaled with a sword or a lance, but there is no sign of bleeding.

"A suspect for the death has not been named, but some are theorising that given the nature of Fiaretti's injuries and of her background that perhaps a Jedi could have been behind the crime. The Jedi Council are yet to comment on the incident, but it is certainly a terrifying thought that those who swear they are committed to peace could be behind such chaos.

"Then there are the other rumours that the real perpetrator could be Anakin Skywalker, the former Republic Golden Boy famously titled the Hero With No Fear. Skywalker seems to have left the Jedi Order under mysterious circumstances, and most believe he is now in the Chancellor's employ. Could this attack have been politically motivated? What would that mean for the former peacekeeper – and more importantly, for anyone that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine deems to be an enemy?"

The report ended, and the broadcast cut to a jarringly pleasant commercial.

"You killed her." It was all Padmé said. Her voice seemed very small, very far away.

She was sitting on the yellow sofa with her back to him, but Anakin didn't need to see her expression to know exactly how she felt. It was clear. She was appalled.

Anakin didn't even try to deny what he had done. There was no point, and he respected his wife too much to lie to her now. He crossed the distance between them – it felt like a whole galaxy – and stood before her. Even then, she didn't look at him.

"I did. I killed her."

There was an awful silence, and for one horrible moment, Anakin couldn't feel their connection in the Force at all. He found he had stopped breathing when it happened, and air rushed into his lungs when he could feel her again. Nothingness was then replaced with the waves of her fury.

"Why?"

"I had to." It sounded like a pathetic response. Anakin was aware of that fact as soon as he had said it.

Suddenly, Padmé lifted her gaze. Her dark eyes were full of strength and defiance, but Anakin could also see the tell-tale signs of tears past shed. "What do you mean 'you had to'? What happened? Who was forcing you to do it?"

Anakin found he couldn't stand to look at her. That momentary glimpse of fear had been all he could stand that day on Tatooine, but this, no, this was too much. Every second he was more and more consumed with the fear that his beloved wife now hated him, and every second that this conversation continued, he felt that his fear was being proven correct.

Anakin moved away, standing in front of the large window. He had a view of the city that up until a few days ago had championed him as its hero. Now, it was turning against him.

"I know you must hate me, Padmé." He stopped, not knowing how to go on.

Then, he heard the rustle of Padmé's senatorial gown as she moved from the sofa and came to stand in front of him. There was still a distance between them.

"I just want to understand, Anakin. I'm so worried about you."

Anakin bowed his head in a new wave of shame, his messy curls falling into his eyes. That after all he had done she would still be concerned about him. It was more than he deserved.

Maybe I do deserve to lose her after all, he thought to himself. Not for her to die, but for her to hate me. For her to leave me and never come back. For her to have a life without me, and for someone like me to be alone forever. Maybe it's just my destiny.

He looked up. Padmé was staring at him, waiting for an answer. They were still standing a few feet apart.

"I can't fully explain what happened, Padmé. I… I didn't mean to kill her, I really didn't. At least, not at first. At first it was just a chase, and I was going to arrest her so she could be tried. But then..."

Anakin couldn't continue. In remembering what he had seen right before he had plunged the darksaber straight through Fiaretti's chest, it seemed he had caused another terrible vision to happen. It ripped him away from their apartment and placed him somewhere strange and unknown. There was at first only metal walls, and then a light turned on somewhere and he saw Padmé's crumpled body spotlighted in the gloom.

In the vision Anakin ran towards her, terrified. She didn't move when he shouted her name. She didn't move when he collapsed on to the floor next to her and pulled her into his arms. She didn't move when he desperately kissed her cold lips. Nothing worked, and when he looked at her more closely, he saw that her abdomen bared the same wound as Elenara Fieretti's had. Padmé had been run-through with a saber.

As the realisation occurred to him, suddenly the darksaber was in his hand. The cruel buzz of its ignited blade filled the empty metal room. Anakin saw what he was holding and dropped the darksaber in horror. The weapon clattered to the ground, still activated.

So he had done this? He had done this to his beloved, to his Angel? He must have. There was nobody else here. It must have been him. He saw red eyes in the darkness, and knew they must be his own. Suddenly, he was screaming. The screaming filled his head, then the metal room, then the apartment on Coruscant.

Anakin came back to himself and realised he was on the floor in the same position he had been in the vision. He was also aware that tears were streaming down his face, and that Padmé was crouched beside him, looking fearful.

At once Anakin wrapped her in his arms, her head against his chest. His flesh hand stroked her soft hair, something that usually brought him such comfort, but no comfort was to be had this time. Anakin's chest heaved with the severity of his sobs as he succumbed to the pain the vision had caused him. But it wasn't just the vision that had been so distressing. He was losing her in real life, too. He knew it.

Padmé didn't say anything, but after a moment she wrapped her arms around her husband's neck. She couldn't help it. She could feel his pain and how endless it was. Despite her feelings towards what he had done, she found she had to comfort him. It had been the same that day on Tatooine when he had told her what had happened to the Sand People. She did it because she loved him, then and now.

An unknown amount of time passed, and eventually Anakin's shoulders stopped shaking. He was still and quiet.

"What happened?" Padmé whispered.

"When I went to arrest Fieretti I had a vision. I saw your death, Padmé."

Padmé met his eyes with a wary gaze. They had had so many conversations about her apparently impending doom lately. A shiver ran down her spine. It was as if every time they talked about it, it was more likely to come true.

Anakin continued. "When I saw what I saw in those visions, I knew…. I just knew… I had to kill her. If I didn't, you would die. I had to. I had to save you..."

For some reason, Anakin didn't tell her about the strange feeling he had experienced right before he had killed Fieretti, that feeling of being a puppet and not having complete control. He wasn't entirely sure why he didn't tell her, but he suspected it was because he still felt like that feeling had been a manifestation of his own desire to separate himself from the guilt of the cold-blooded killing. He wasn't entirely sure that the feeling had actually been real, and even if it was, would Padmé even understand? Even if he hadn't been entirely in control when he'd done it, he'd still taken a life.

"So you killed her to save me?" Padmé had moved now, out of his arms, so that she was sitting gingerly on the floor near him. The distance between them had returned, both physical and otherwise.

Based on Padmé's tone, Anakin knew he had been right not to to tell her about the puppet-like feeling. She wouldn't have understood it, having not been there nor experienced it herself. Padmé was a pragmatic, straightforward person. When a problem arose, she saw the facts. The facts here were that he had killed someone, and he had done so under what he knew she considered a misguided belief that it would save her life somehow.

"I would do anything to save you, Padmé. You know that."

Padmé did know that. She had always known of the intensity of Anakin's love for her. He had said countless times that he would do anything for her, that he would always keep her safe. Now she was learning what the truth behind those words really looked like.

"There had to be another way, Anakin. Surely. Killing someone like that… I can't believe that you would do that."

Anakin saw how upset she was, saw the disdain that he was sure was playing at the edges of her features. It woke the dragon inside of him. How could she question him like this? How could she respond this way? He had done it for her. He had done it to keep her safe! Everything he did was for her! How could she not see it? Why was she not more thankful, more grateful? Why was she turning against him like this? Why was his love not enough?

It couldn't be his fault. They loved each other. He loved her. So much.

Immediately, the dragon inside him began to justify its actions. "But the woman was a terrorist. She would have killed others."

"You couldn't be sure of that, Anakin. She might never have harmed anyone," Padmé countered. "We don't know what her involvement with the group was because she had no trial. And even if she did, how does it make you any better than her to just take her life like that?"

"Padmé, please! You have to believe me. I did it for the greater good. I did it for you!" The dragon was growing angrier in its desperation. His words, though well-intentioned, seemed to take on a hard edge.

"I don't want you to do things like that for me, Anakin! I don't want you to do anything like that ever again!" Padmé cried. "Please, this isn't like you!"

"What are you saying, Padmé ? That I should resign from my post working with the Chancellor?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Obi-Wan thinks so too!" As soon as she'd said the name, she saw Anakin's face change and knew it had been a grave mistake. He suddenly seemed like someone else entirely. Though he had the appearance of the man she had married, he had none of the softness and kindness that she loved. Where was his good heart? She had been so sure of it. Why was it failing him?

The mention of Obi-Wan Kenobi saw the dragon inside Anakin suddenly breathing fire. "Obi-Wan?" Anakin spat. "Obi-Wan? When have you been talking to Obi-Wan?"

Padmé took a step back, afraid at the intensity of Anakin's anger. She had never seen him like this before. "He… he and Ahsoka came over the other day. We talked about you. We're worried about you, Anakin. You've… you're changing."

Anakin could barely hear her over the sounds of screaming in his head. At first he had no idea what it was, wondered for a moment if it could even be Padmé screaming somehow, before he realised it was his own thoughts, amplified due to anger. How could she bring Obi-Wan here, into their home. And against his knowledge! He remembered that she had mentioned it might be a good idea for him to talk to Obi-Wan once before, but thought she'd dropped the idea when he had told her he didn't want to speak with him. When was Padmé going to tell him that she'd met with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka behind his back? Was she ever even planning on doing so? First the Jedi had betrayed him, now Padmé had too. And they were doing it together.

"Obi-Wan…" The name dripped from Anakin's lips like venom. He was so angry he was panting. "Obi-Wan. And what did Obi-Wan have to say about me? What lies did he tell you? He's turning you against me, Padmé. But how? What did he say?"

"Anakin!" Padmé's voice was suddenly beseeching. Her resolve was failing her in the face of his ferocity. "He's not trying to turn you against me. Why would he do that? He just wants to help!"

Anakin gave her a disbelieving scowl. He ignored her questions, didn't care at all about the logic of them. Right now all he wanted to feel was rage. He wanted it to consume him entirely.

Padmé, in an attempt to get Anakin to understand, to focus properly on what he was saying, stalked towards him and grabbed bunches of his tunic in both hands. "Anakin listen to me! I told you, we're worried about you. Neither of us think you working for the Chancellor is a good idea… I mean, just look at what happened tonight!"

Anakin stepped backwards, away from her. Padmé's hands let go of his shirt and fell limply to her sides. He wasn't listening, and she didn't know how to make him listen. For once, the only time since they had been reunited and fell in love, she couldn't get through to him. He didn't want to listen to her. He was shutting her out.

"Anakin, as long as you keep working for the Chancellor, things like this are going to keep happening. Things even worse than this will happen."

The dragon inside him snarled at her words. She really wanted him to give up his position? That would be giving up his one chance at pride, at a worthy life beyond the Jedi. Suddenly it was no longer about just saving her life, it was about saving his. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't.

"Padmé, don't ask that of me." His voice was calmer, quieter, but somehow that made it more frightening. For a moment she even thought she saw a flash of red in his eyes, but it was gone before she could properly make sense of it.

Wrangling with the hardest choice she had ever had to make, Padmé was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was shaky. "Anakin, if you won't listen to me, I need you to go."

He blinked. What? What had she said?

"I need to spend some time away from you so I can figure out what happens next. I can't be around you if you can't see that what you're doing is wrong. I… I need to work out if our relationship has a future."

Anakin's brain could barely comprehend the terrible words his wife was saying. His heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself. The dragon didn't know what to do. It only knew rage and power. It knew nothing of love, of heartbreak.

"But… I love you, Padmé. I love you." Suddenly the dragon was gone, and he was Anakin again. Just Anakin, fallible, heartbroken, scared. Just Anakin, losing yet another person he loved. Just Anakin, losing the person he loved the most.

His blue eyes were soft as he met her tearful gaze. It hurt Padmé even more that at this moment when she was sending him away, she knew that it was her Anakin again.

The tears that had been gathering in her eyes finally spilled over her cheeks. "I know, Anakin. I know. I love you too. That's what makes all of this so hard. What you're doing is breaking my heart."

All Anakin wanted to do in that moment was to go to his wife, to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would all be alright. He wanted to wipe her tears with kind hands and kiss her over and over with gentle lips. But he couldn't. Because he knew he wasn't going to stop what he was doing. He knew that he couldn't. She couldn't understand why. He had only just understood it himself, and it had taken until tonight for him to truly realise that all of this was not just about saving her. It was about him. It was about his power, his glory, and his destiny. Those desires had been tethered to him for so long he didn't know how to break the chains, even in the face of losing everything. Even in the face of losing her.

"Angel..." One last try. One last hope.

But Padmé shook her head, her tears falling faster at the impact that that treasured, loving name always had on her heart. She didn't want to hear it. Not now, not when the was trying to be strong.

"Please Anakin. Please let it all go. Not just for me. For the good of the galaxy."

"Padmé… I… I can't..."

She turned away, her expression blank. Then, to Anakin's horror, she took off her wedding band and gave it to him. "Keep this safe," she said softly, as she placed it in his unwilling hand.

In that moment Anakin wanted nothing more than to be struck down by some invincible cosmic force and never have to feel the pain he felt right now ever again. "Does this mean… does this mean you no longer love me?"

She shook her head. "It's a promise."

"A promise?" Anakin was utterly bewildered.

Padmé managed the tiniest of smiles, even through tears. "A promise that we will see each other again. I still have faith in you, Anakin. I know that good heart of yours is in there, and you will do the right thing. In the meantime, keep that ring safe for me. Now go."

Anakin's hand closed around the ring she had given to him, and he turned and strode out the door without another word. So urgent was his need to be out of there, away from the hatred he was so sure she must feel for him, that he didn't hear his name pass across her lips one more time as he went through the door.

"Ani..." Padmé murmured, before grief stole her voice.

And so, Anakin was gone. He got into his speeder and streaked through the skies, not knowing at all where he was going and not giving a damn either. All he knew was that the pain he felt now was worse than anything any one of those visions had ever made him feel.

If Anakin's tortured mind had let him think about everything that had just happened properly, he maybe would have realised the irony of it all; that in trying to save Padmé, his actions had meant he had lost her.

But Anakin couldn't calm his mind to think about any of this properly. He just flew and flow and flew until he ended up in some deserted part of Coruscant he had never seen before.

Ah well, it didn't matter. Even if poor Anakin Skywalker had realised the irony of his situation, he certainly wouldn't have appreciated it anyway.

OOOOO

Whilst a marriage was falling apart, across the city in the Jedi Temple, at least one being had found peace.

Mace Windu meditated calmly, letting the Force flow through him, flow around him, and share with him its wisdom. He felt a great weightlessness as he floated through the waves of the Force. His heart was calm. His mind was clear.

And then suddenly, the being with those awful, familiar red eyes was all that his mind could see. The calm was gone, in it's place nothing but coldness.

Mace snapped his eyes open, hoping it was just a vision, but knowing even before he saw the intruder standing in front of him that it was real. He rose to his feet.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" Mace's hand brushed over the lightsaber hanging at his belt, warning the intruder without words.

"To bring you the truth," the intruder said. He smiled, red eyes gleaming menacingly.

"The truth? Stop speaking in riddles. I have had enough of it. Either tell me what you mean to say, or leave," Mace said angrily.

The intruder smiled again. They took a seat on the small bed on the other side of the room, unbidden. Mace ignored their boldness, just hoping the conversation with whoever this mysterious being was would finally bring him some answers.

"You have heard the news about Skywalker?" the intruder began.

Mace frowned. "What news?"

"Ahh." The intruder's thin lips curled into another cruel smile. "So you are still unaware of what he has done."

"Tell me!" Mace demanded.

The intruder paused before speaking again, seeming to relish making Mace wait for an answer. "He has… taken a life."

"What?"

"Taken the life of another. In cold-blood."

"Skywalker has done this? When? Why?"

"A member of a terrorist group. Small-fry, really. A nobody. He would have arrested her but…"

"But what?" Mace's voice boomed through the room. Any semblance of calm he had felt was now gone. This was exactly what he had always feared Skywalker would do. As soon as he was out of the Order, as soon as he was no longer bound by their rules, Mace had feared he would exercise his power in any way he saw fit. He would become a danger to everyone.

"Skywalker is plagued with visions of losing his wife. Somehow, he felt that if he took the life of that woman, it would help him to save her," the intruder explained.

"What do you know of these visions?" Mace questioned.

"Oh, nothing. I swear," said the intruder, but the curl of his lips told Mace otherwise.

"Why are you here, telling me all of this? What is the point of these constant meetings? And who are you? Why should I trust anything you say?" Mace's voice was low, angry.

The intruder rose from the bed, taller than Mace. "Who I am to you is not important. I am someone who has met Skywalker before, and I am someone who knows what he will do in the future. I know of all the terrible, terrible things he will do in the future. It is his destiny."

Mace frowned as he absorbed the intruder's words. "And you are here to warn me? To help me stop Skywalker from doing these terrible things?"

Pausing for a moment, an expression unknown passed over the intruder's face. "Work with me, and together we can set the galaxy on its correct course."

"What am I supposed to do? Why have you come to me, of all people? Why not Master Yoda?"

"Because, Mace Windu, you are the only one who can do this. You have said so yourself that perhaps the prophecy of the Chosen One was misread. Have you ever considered that there is a Chosen One, but it is not who you once thought?"

Mace's eyes flashed with interest. "Who is this Chosen One you speak of, then?"

"You."

Mace's hand flew to his lightsaber, and he ignited the purple blade with a hiss. "You lie. You don't know what you speak of."

The intruder laughed, ignoring the saber blade that hummed only a few inches away from him. "Why do you think I have come to you for this task? Because it is your destiny. You are the one who will bring peace and balance to the galaxy! You are the one who will defeat Skywalker!"

"Defeat… Skywalker..." Mace thought the words felt strange coming out of his mouth. They felt wrong.

"Yes! Yes!" The intruder was growing increasingly animated. "You must defeat Skywalker! You have seen what he has done already after such a short time out of the Order. That woman did not need to die, but she was slain by his hand anyway! What more will he do now that there is nobody to control his power?"

Mace raised the blade of his lightsaber up further. It was now pointing at the intruder's chest. "This is a matter to discuss with the Council. Besides, I don't even know who you are. How can I trust you?"

Another mirthless smile. "If I ever had a name, it is lost to time. I am known now only as the Son. Or, to my Sister, as the Brother."

"That name means nothing to me," said Mace.

"It doesn't have to," the Son replied airily. "I'm a being much beyond the comprehension of most."

"How can I trust you?" Mace repeated.

"Because," the Son said. "I know the will of the Force. I know the past and the future of the Force. I am the Force."

"What? What do you mean?"

"My Father, my Sister, and I are beings of the Force – Keepers of it, if you will. For so long we have watched as the Force became ever clouded by the Dark Side. We waited, hoping that there would come one who would lead the galaxy to its ultimate fate. I believe that being is you, and so I am here to help you, to guide you. As I have said before, you can trust me. I only want fate to continue as it is supposed to."

Mace was thoughtful. "If I am the Chosen One, as you so claim, how am I supposed to help?"

The Son's red eyes narrowed. "You must do what I have told you before. I have already given you the instruction many times. There is no other way."

Mace recoiled suddenly at the memory of all the unwanted intrusions by the Son, all of the times the mysterious being had told him to kill. "I will not murder Padmé Amidala! She is an innocent. It is not the Jedi Way, and I know it could not be the Will of the Force!"

The Son sneered. "What would you know of the Will of the Force? Do you, a lowly Jedi with only a fraction of my power, presume to know more than I?"

"I will not kill her," Mace said again, resolute.

"But you must!" the Son cried. "Without her death, there can be no balance! Skywalker will wreak untold havoc on the galaxy to protect her. He will do whatever is necessary, because he cannot bear to lose her. He has even taken this job with the Chancellor because he does not want to disappoint her, and he falsely believes it is a way to keep her safe. If Amidala is gone, I know SKywalker will stop. I have seen it. You must trust me."

Mace shook his head, but he lowered his blade for a moment as he absorbed the Son's words.

The Son seemed to sense a victory, and he spoke again as if to try and seal the deal. "Amidala is fated to die. It has always been this way. In all the different variations of this galaxy's fate that I have seen, she is in none of them. Take her life and you will be saving the lives of countless others."

There was silence. Mace stared at the ground, his lightsaber still ignited in his hand. The Son waited, anticipating the acquiescence from Mace that he knew was soon to come. He was about to rejoice, knowing that Mace would do what he had asked, when suddenly, in a flash of purple, the blade of Mace's saber was at the Son's throat, and then, the Son was using all of the great and terrible Force power he had to knock the Jedi Master back.

Mace slammed against the wall of his chamber with an audible thud. He took a second to recover, then secured his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber and charged at the Son. The purple blade deflected the blast of red Force lightning, and it was in the moment that Mace realised how close he had been to a dangerous and terrible mistake.

"You're a Sith!" Mace grunted as he manoeuvred the blade of his saber to deflect the Force lightning into the adjacent wall.

The Son grinned. "I am not a Sith. I am much more than that. I am the very Dark Side of the Force that you Jedi so naively fear."

Mace tried to keep his footing, but he felt himself slowly being pushed back by the ferocity of the Son's attack. The lights in the room began to flicker as the temperature seemed to plunge below freezing.

"I was right not to trust you!" Mace groaned. The Jedi Master was sweating and panting with the exertion of keeping up a defense against such a strong opponent. "I know I'm not the Chosen One."

The Son laughed, a sickening sound. "Oh, but you could be! If you give in to me, you could bring the balance to the Force that you so desperately crave!"

"I will… never… give in… to you!"

"Why? What I have told you is not a lie. Amidala is the source of Skywalker's downfall, and the galaxy's downfall in turn." The Son spoke so casually, as if the exertion of this battle was nothing to him. He did not seem fatigued in the slightest.

"No! There will be… another way… to stop… Skywalker!" Mace shouted. He tried to brace himself more securely on the floor, but it was no use. He was tiring too fast now. The Son was too strong. He could feel himself failing. He knew his time was about to come.

Suddenly, Mace collapsed to the floor. He was hit with a strike of Force lightning and felt it course through every part of his body, the pain unimaginable. Then there was nothing but darkness.

The Son laughed, and this time, it seemed to have some true element of joy behind it – a sick joy. He had won. Mace was his. Destiny would be fulfilled, and Amidala would die.

Easily, as if he were just slipping into a new change of clothes, he felt himself take control of Mace's mind. The Jedi Master's thoughts were blank as he lay injured and unconscious on the floor, but this was what the Son had wanted. If he could not convince Mace Windu to join him in his quest, he would simply take contro of him. He had needed Mace for this part of the plan.

Sure, he could have killed Amidala himself as if it were nothing. He could kill all of Coruscant in a moment as if it were nothing. But it needed to be a Jedi that killed Amidala, and it needed to happen in front of Skywalker. Skywalker had to lose everything before he would turn. He had to lose all faith in the Jedi, had to believe they had betrayed him utterly and completely. Skywalker then had to slay one, had to feel the power of the Dark Side in him as he did so. He had to turn his back completely on the Jedi Order in a way that he could never come back from.

And, (and this was the most important part) he had to lose the thing that was most important to him: his wife. Without that loss there would not be enough pain, enough hurt and rage, to fuel Skywalker's true transformation to the most powerful user of the Dark Side there had ever been.

The willingness of Sith Lords had brought The Son here to Coruscant, but it was the Jedi who would help him complete his plan and seal the fate of the galaxy.

Skywalker would fall, the Son was going to make sure of it. His destiny was the Dark Side. It always had been.

A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! We're really gearing up for the finale now!

If you haven't seen the Mortis arc of the Clone Wars series, I recommend watching it if you're in a position to do so. Not only is it just a really good piece of storytelling, it was the main inspiration behind this whole story and will help you to understand more about the Son and his motivations. In terms of this story, everything that happened in the Mortis arc up until the last episode happened here too. So, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have met the Son, but what happened to the Son in that last episode obviously never happened (I'm trying to dodge spoilers as much as possible haha).

Please let me know what you thought about this chapter and the direction of the story in general now that it's nearing the end. If you think it's dumb or has plot-holes, please let me know. That way I can try and fix anything that doesn't work. Also please let me know if you liked it as well haha. Hopefully I'll have another update soon! Thanks again for reading!