A/N: Hello and welcome back! We've arrived at this point of the story. Finally.
Buckle up, folks. This one's a lot—to the point that it made me really emotional while writing certain parts of it.
Enjoy!
Like a dance, the battle continued.
With her commlink now set to record, Padmé kept herself crouched protectively over Anakin's body, glancing sporadically at the climactic clash between the two Force users mere yards away.
It was admittedly difficult for her to make sense of exactly what was happening, considering the fact that she had previously thought that both Palpatine and Dooku were Sith, but now, Padmé knew one thing for sure:
Dooku was not going to last much longer.
His motions had long ago grown slow and sluggish, and although he hadn't fallen yet, Padmé found herself worrying that it would happen soon. There was an odd heaviness to his footsteps, along with a worrying crease in his eyebrows that spoke volumes. Palpatine, on the other hand, continued to move with almost a ferocious, manic glee—a sight that sent shivers down her spine.
Anakin's body remained cold and still underneath her hands, even as she reached for the unfamiliar-looking lightsaber hilt still held loosely in his grasp. Padmé allowed her fingers to trail over the ignition switch, heart thrumming loudly in her ears.
She needed to do more—she had to do more.
Carefully, she placed the commlink on the ground, angling it to capture the view of the entire corridor. Then, she stood up, taking a few halting steps forward until she stood in front of Anakin, clenching at the hilt with both hands.
As her thumb pressed onto the ignition switch and the harsh, red light flooded the corridor, Padmé let out a quiet gasp, feeling the weight of the unfamiliar weapon pressing down into her hands.
Maybe this was extremely foolish, considering she wasn't a Jedi and never even used a lightsaber before. Maybe Palpatine would see her and laugh dismissively at what she was trying to do, or worse—strike her down in a split-second.
Or maybe, just maybe—this would be distraction enough.
She felt Palpatine's gaze pass over her form, heard the bark of cruel laughter that escaped him, followed by the sudden burst of speed that consumed him. Dooku, meanwhile, met Palpatine's rapid blows evenly, sweat dripping down his brow into his collar.
Padmé blinked, and Palpatine was raising his hand, pulling Dooku upwards before sending him flying to the opposite side of the corridor. A loud crash rumbled through the air, followed by a sickening thud, and then—
Silence.
Dread pooled deep in Padmé's gut as the Sith Master turned slowly to face her, eyes glinting with cold hatred. She angled the lightsaber protectively in front of herself, waiting for her opponent to strike.
Palpatine began to walk towards her with slow and precise footsteps. When he came to a stop a few feet away, lips curled into a wicked grin, Padmé's breath hitched deep in her throat, reminding her of the reality of the situation—her situation.
"My dear Senator Amidala," the Sith Lord murmured, voice grating painfully in her ears, "whatever do you think you're doing with that?" He raised a hand, and the lightsaber was pulled easily out of Padmé's grip, its hilt flying forward until Palpatine caught it mid-air using the Force.
"You won't get away with this," she replied evenly, voice echoing with all the certainty she could muster. "The Jedi will come, and they will end your reign, once and for all."
In response, Palpatine barked out a laugh. "I'm afraid, my dear, that the Jedi are otherwise occupied right now."
Shaking her head, Padmé took a step back.
In response, she felt something wrap itself around her arms, pinning them to her sides. Then, slowly, she was being pulled forward, closer and closer to the Sith Master.
"No!" she exclaimed, struggling to move or pull herself away, but the pressure around her chest seemed to tighten, robbing her of her breath. "Let me go!"
Cold laughter echoed through the corridor as Padmé flew faster and faster through the air, until she landed heavily on her knees right in front of Palpatine. As renewed pain rushed through her senses, she panted and bowed her head, vision blurring.
Then, through the ringing in her ears, she heard a voice.
"Now, my dear—" Sidious whispered, as a lightsaber ignited from somewhere above her head, "you will die."
"You're here."
Crossing his arms over his chest, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Of course I am," he replied, voice neutral. "Were you expecting someone else?"
Anakin's mouth went dry at his words. Unsure of what to say, he shook his head, stepping closer and closer. A part of him expected the sight of his former Master to fade away in front of him, to become some sort of an illusion, but…
Obi-Wan looked as though he was really there.
But Anakin knew that had to be impossible.
"Are you real?" he asked finally, voice quiet and tentative. Slowly, he lifted his flesh hand, extending it forward and reaching for Obi-Wan's shoulder. As his hand passed through Obi-Wan's form, grasping at thin air, his stomach clenched, just as reality sank in.
This was the confirmation that Anakin needed, after all.
"That is a complicated question, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, eyebrows furrowed. "We are…not really at the Temple. I only thought it would be best to have this conversation somewhere more familiar and comfortable for you."
"Then where are we? Really?" Anakin pressed, following Obi-Wan to the small, familiar dining table settled just outside of the kitchen, well-worn and used. He caught a glance at the familiar-looking scratches on the gentle wood, most of them caused by Anakin's mechanical engineering projects from over the years.
Obi-Wan smiled as he sat down in his usual seat, gesturing at the chair next to him. Anakin followed suit, not letting his gaze move away from Obi-Wan for even a single moment.
For all that he knew that Obi-Wan wasn't really there, it almost felt as though they were back at the Temple. It almost felt as though this was just another day, and everything was back to how it was before.
And more than anything, Anakin wished to be home.
"I was sure you would've figured it out by now," Obi-Wan replied, bringing up a hand to stroke at his beard. The familiarity of the motion sent a wave of nostalgia through Anakin's mind, warm and potent.
"I…" Anakin bit his lip, contemplating his words. "Well, I saw my mom and Qui-Gon, but they're both gone. And now I'm seeing you, and I know that you're—"
He cut himself off, unsure of what to say.
"I'm what?" Obi-Wan asked softly, tilting his head. "Dead?"
The word echoed between them, a cruel, striking reminder of the reality Anakin had just left behind.
Slowly, Anakin nodded.
Obi-Wan let out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He hummed quietly.
"This is the land between the living and the dead, Anakin," Obi-Wan explained as he gestured around the room, voice quiet and certain. For a split-second, the area around them flickered, revealing a deep blue space sprinkled with bright, beautiful stars.
There was a sense of silence and peace, as though the world had gone completely still. The Force swelled with the sort of warmth that reminded him of the times before the war, before everything had gone so wrong.
It felt as though he was floating—aimlessly—in the Light, a brilliant and luminous memory from long ago.
Anakin breathed in, watching as their surroundings snapped back to the familiarity of the quarters he used to share with Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan smiled gently, placing a hand on Anakin's arm. Anakin couldn't feel the weight of it at all, but there was a sort of warmth pressing onto his sleeve, reassuring and comforting.
"I have been here for a while now," Obi-Wan continued, eyes flickering around the room and somewhere beyond. "And I suspect that I won't be able to stay for much longer. I have…well, there is no way back for me."
Something deep in Anakin's chest twisted, painfully.
"What do you mean?" he choked. "Obi-Wan, you—"
"It's alright," Obi-Wan whispered, eyes shining as he looked back at Anakin directly. "There is much more at stake, more that you need to do, Anakin. And I will help you."
Blinking, Anakin remembered flashes of what had happened before he got here—waking up in the Senate building to the sight of Padmé staring down at him, eyes bright with concern. Then, the sounds of lightsabers, the discovery that Dooku and Sidious were confronting one another, and then—
The Force, gone.
Anakin felt it now, but it felt strange—hollow and empty, almost.
He remembered standing up and fighting Sidious anyways, only to fall and—
"What about me?" he croaked, looking up at Obi-Wan, whose eyes lowered.
"You are not gone yet." Obi-Wan smiled gently once again. "There is still hope for you, Anakin, and so you will have to go back and confront Darth Sidious once again."
Shaking his head, Anakin stood up, chair clattering to the ground as he began to pace around the room, hands reaching desperately to tug at his hair. "But I—I failed the first time! He defeated me so easily, as though I was nothing more than a nuisance to him. And it has to be too late by now, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan stood up and followed Anakin to where he stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's not too late, Anakin. And like I said, I will help you," he replied.
"How?" Anakin croaked, hands falling to his side.
At Anakin's words, Obi-Wan paused, bowing his head slightly.
Anakin had never seen him hesitate like this before; it was as though he was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say at this moment. Through the surprise that rushed through him, Anakin resisted the urge to say something to press Obi-Wan further.
Eventually, Obi-Wan sighed and looked up, suddenly looking more exhausted than before.
"Let's sit back down and talk," he said, gesturing back to the table.
Anakin nodded and followed Obi-Wan back to the table, and together, they sat down once again. Obi-Wan placed his hands flat on the table, staring at the scratches on the worn wood with a mixture of fondness and remembrance.
"There is much that you do not know, Anakin," he began, voice quiet. "Our time is limited, but you deserve the truth, Padawan."
Something in Anakin's stomach tightened at his words, sending a shiver down his spine. He nodded in response, and Obi-Wan smiled softly.
"I remember that Bant told you what she knew about my childhood," Obi-Wan began, taking a deep breath. "She was not privy to everything that happened back then, and though she is a healer now, I asked Master Che for some of it to remain private, for her sake."
Anakin nodded. "She said that you had visions as a child," he mused, thinking back to the conversation he had with Bant when all of this started, so long ago now.
Obi-Wan's head dipped in acknowledgment. "I did, yes," he murmured. "At the time, no one knew why. I was in the Halls for a very long time, and in the years that followed, I remembered very little of the details of the whole affair."
"You were really young," Anakin remarked, eyebrows pitching just slightly together.
Drumming his fingers lightly on the dining table, Obi-Wan nodded.
Once again, they fell into a silence. Anakin found himself wanting to say or do something, but it seemed as though Obi-Wan was deep in thought, that there was something important that he wanted to say but didn't really know how.
Anakin could relate to that—in fact, he was surprised to see Obi-Wan in that position at all.
He had always seemed like the one to know exactly what to say in any situation, no matter what.
"It was only recently that I remembered what had actually happened," Obi-Wan murmured, eyes fixed on the wall behind Anakin, somewhere far, far away. "Or learned, rather. The past few weeks have been…"
His voice trailed off into nothingness.
Anakin's throat went dry.
"So…" he managed, and Obi-Wan's eyes snapped back to his, as though he had just remembered that Anakin was still sitting there—but Anakin knew that that was impossible. "What happened, then—actually?"
Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded, pressing his lips together in a thoughtful expression. Then, he began talking, voice quiet.
"As a child, I was prone to nightmares. Or terrors, depending on who you ask," he admitted, pulling his eyes away from Anakin to his fingers on the table, curled into loose fists. "It's pretty common for Force-sensitives aligned with the Unifying Force, at that age."
"Right," Anakin replied. "But what does that have to do with…"
Obi-Wan smiled thinly. "I'm getting there, Anakin. Patience."
Once again, the room lapsed into silence, but this time, it felt more comfortable. Anakin had the distinct feeling that this almost felt like nothing more than an ordinary day—him and Obi-Wan, sitting at this very table and just talking.
Something about it felt so familiar and normal, were it not for the odd tension in the air, as though time itself was holding its breath—lying in wait.
"I was also prone to sleepwalking," Obi-Wan continued, looking directly at Anakin with startling clarity. "You've seen it happen a few times, as I recall. The frequency of my once-nightly walks through the Temple decreased over time, but they never really went away. Not entirely, at any rate."
Slowly, Anakin nodded, mind flashing back to his first days in the Temple. There were a few times, especially back then, when he found Obi-Wan walking aimlessly through the very same room they sat in now, drifting somewhere between slumber and full wakefulness.
"I remember," he replied. "But I still don't understand, Obi-Wan."
"Well, the sleepwalking started before everything changed," Obi-Wan explained. There was a pause, a brief moment of contemplation, before he continued talking. "There was an…incident that set everything in motion."
Anakin tilted his head in confusion. "What sort of incident?"
Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and his fingers curled tightly into each other, inter-locking onto the table.
"I was…young," he murmured, eyebrows drawing tightly together. "Before the visions started, I had sleepwalked myself out of the crechè, through the Temple's hallways, and down to the lower levels."
"How did no one see you—"
Obi-Wan sighed. "The will of the Force," he murmured, eyes still closed. With those words, his voice echoed oddly, reverberating through the room with a sense of finality.
"Moreover, there is a Sith shrine below the Temple," Obi-Wan continued, as though he was reciting nothing more than simple fact.
Anakin recoiled, opening his mouth to respond by instinct, but Obi-Wan kept talking, the words spilling easily from his lips.
"It is a remnant of the Great Sith War from long before the Jedi Temple on Coruscant was constructed," he explained. "At the time, the Jedi had thought that it was inactive, but a part of it lived on, festering under our home like an open wound."
The last word was spat out through gritted teeth, Obi-Wan's features twisting in uncharacteristic, open disgust.
"But that—but that would mean…" Shaking his head, Anakin stood up from his chair, staring down at Obi-Wan incredulously. "For all those years, for all those centuries, the Jedi Order lived and thrived on top of that? How did no one ever notice?"
"The Dark Side of the Force is difficult to detect. It has a tendency to be—"
"Murky, nebulous." Anakin remembered Obi-Wan saying these exact words many times over the years, but to hear it now, in this context, emphasized them even further.
"Right." Obi-Wan smiled again, but it was strained now. "And the shrine held a tomb for the Sith who fell during that last battle. For all that time, the bodies lay there, seemingly forgotten, until the Sith returned to Coruscant a few decades ago."
The words echoed between them, heavy and intense. Anakin opened his mouth, struggling to come up with the words to respond, but Obi-Wan shook his head.
"There's more," he said forcefully. "This was before the rise of Darth Sidious, but even then, the Sith were…lurking in the shadows, plotting. Before Sidious, there was another Sith Master—Darth Plagueis."
Anakin shivered at the sound of the unfamiliar name.
"Plagueis had a different approach to the return of the Sith than Sidious. He was aware of the shrine sleeping below the Temple, of the bodies, and he thought that when the time came, he would be able to bring them all back."
Anakin's voice caught in his throat. "Bring them all back? What do you mean? Like—necromancy, or…"
"Precisely." Obi-Wan sighed, fixing his eyes onto Anakin's fists, clenched tightly on top of the table. "Plagueis had experimented with raising them from the dead a few times. One of those times was when I wandered to the lower levels as a sleepwalking youngling."
Anakin watched as Obi-Wan stood up from the table, walking over to the kitchen was purposeful strides. He followed in shocked silence, unable to do anything but watch as Obi-Wan filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove before turning it on.
Something about it—being back here at all and watching Obi-Wan make tea—felt so mundane. It was almost easy to forget everything that had happened, except…
Anakin blinked, and the image of Obi-Wan lying still and broken in the Halls, hooked up to all these machines, flashed through his eyes.
That was his reality—not this.
With a sigh, Obi-Wan turned away from the stove, eyes filled with regret.
"Well, they found me when I ventured too close to the shrine," he said simply. "And the Force knew that I was meant to train you, Anakin. You are the Chosen One, and I had a responsibility to you, even then."
"I'm not—"
"You are," Obi-Wan repeated firmly, eyes narrowing. "You may never truly believe it, Anakin, but Qui-Gon was right: you will bring balance to the Force."
The kettle whistled, and Obi-Wan turned back to the stove, pouring steaming tea into two off-white chipped mugs. When he finished, he handed one of the mugs to Anakin with a wistful smile.
"Well, that should explain it well enough," Obi-Wan murmured. "The visions themselves were a warning, and the physiological reactions were—"
"The Sith," Anakin whispered, looking down at the contents of his mug, letting the steam waft past him. He leaned sideways against the kitchen counter with a loud exhale. "But then, it stopped, right?"
Obi-Wan took a sip of his tea and nodded. "While all of this happened, Plagueis did not realize exactly what his experiments caused. The Healers didn't, either, and I was in no position to realize it myself," he explained. "Eventually, Plagueis stopped experimenting with the Sith creatures in the shrine and let them rest, with the intention of bringing them back when he was ready."
Slowly, Anakin nodded. "And that allowed the visions to stop, right? And you got better."
"I did," Obi-Wan replied after a pause, smiling softly. "Even after I recovered, I never remembered going to the shrine, and since no one knew about its presence at all…"
"That's why the Healers never figured it out."
Nodding, Obi-Wan made his way out of the kitchen, mug in hand. Anakin followed him past the dining table where they sat earlier, to the standard Temple-issued couches stationed in the sitting area, around a small holotelevision.
They sat down in unison across from each other, face to face.
"So that explains the past," Anakin realized, narrowing his eyes slightly. "But what does Darth Sidious have to do with this? And what happened to Plagueis?"
"Well," Obi-Wan began, putting his mug down on the side table next to him, "Sidious killed him in his sleep. The plans involving the Sith shrine were lost for decades, until Sidious stumbled across them a few weeks ago."
Anakin sucked in a breath. Everything was beginning to fit together, in a way that made sense.
"He worked it into his plans, without knowing what it would do to you," Anakin murmured, stroking his chin with his flesh hand. "He was…it was all an act. He wasn't really in control of what was happening to you, Obi-Wan."
Sidious' self-proclaimed threat against Obi-Wan's life—the one thing that pulled Anakin away from the Temple in the first place—was nothing more than a lie. The realization sent a shiver down Anakin's spine, cold and potent.
"Not directly," Obi-Wan agreed, brows drawing together. "His presence, the Dark Side lying in wait, moving closer and closer…" He shuddered. "I couldn't take it."
Once again, they lapsed into familiar silence. Anakin found himself thinking back to all the times he visited Obi-Wan when he was in the Halls—the good days, when they both thought that things would somehow go back to normal, and the bad days, when Obi-Wan couldn't even sit up and talk to him.
It was all because of the Sith, because of the Dark Side.
And now…
"Now what?" Anakin asked, turning back to Obi-Wan. "You keep saying that I'm the Chosen One, but I'm…well, I kriffed up, Obi-Wan. I joined Darth Sidious and became a Sith, I tried to kill Dooku and Padmé, and—"
"You are no Sith, Anakin," Obi-Wan declared forcefully. "You were pulled forcibly into the dark, against your own will. And now, you will go back and make things right."
Shaking his head, Anakin stood up, stumbling away from the couch. "I can't! Obi-Wan, things are so bad, and I couldn't even feel the Force. How am I supposed to bring balance to the Force if I can't—"
"Like I said, I will help you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with familiar certainty, standing up as well. "We will do this together, just like everything else. You just have to trust me."
Closing his eyes, Anakin let out a quiet breath, letting his shoulders slump and the world drift into familiar calm.
"I do trust you," he whispered, opening his eyes.
"Good." Obi-Wan smiled, stepping closer to Anakin. He placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, but there was no actual weight to it, just a strange, familiar warmth pressing down on the leather material of his tabards.
Anakin was struck with the realization that none of this was real. They weren't actually sitting in Obi-Wan's quarters at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan wasn't actually physically here and talking to him, and he was…
"You won't come back." Anakin's voice trembled. "Obi-Wan, you have to come back. I need you. I can't get through this without you; I'll—"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I will be with you, Anakin," he whispered. In front of Anakin, his image flickered and shimmered, and through it all, Anakin saw the distinct sparkle of the stars, familiar and comforting. "In here."
The hand resting on Anakin's shoulder moved to his chest, over his heart.
"I have taught you everything I know, since you were a little boy," Obi-Wan continued, voice firm. "So I will live on, through you. Do you understand?"
There was a strange tightness in his throat now, a heaviness pulling at his eyes, causing tears to spill down his cheeks. Anakin's mouth worked as he opened it and closed it, desperately searching for a response. He scrubbed his flesh hand over his eyes and nodded, shoulders trembling with the effort of containing his tears.
"Good." Obi-Wan's voice wavered, sounding somewhat far away. Looking up, Anakin realized that he was disappearing into the stars, fading into thin air. Anakin sniffled and reached his flesh hand forward, placing it onto Obi-Wan's free hand.
Obi-Wan smiled—a bright, familiar thing that sent warmth coursing through Anakin's veins.
Then, he was gone.
Anakin stood alone in the quarters, hands trembling. Slowly, he sank to his knees, covering his face with both hands. His shoulders shook, silent sobs escaping his mouth with every passing second.
"I am with you," the wind whispered, familiar and comforting.
"Obi-Wan," he murmured, voice muffled.
"The time has come."
Taking a deep breath, Anakin dragged his hands away from his face. The tears continued slipping down his cheeks, but he ignored them, pulling himself back up to his feet.
When he opened his eyes, he discovered that he was now floating amongst the stars, drifting into starlight. His surroundings were a deep, dark blue, dotted with the speckles of pure white light all around him. Anakin imagined himself flying through deep, beautiful space, looking out the window to see the stars suspended around him, a certainty, a reminder.
The galaxy lived on, through its stars, planets, and people.
And Anakin Skywalker had a responsibility—to the galaxy, to the Force, and to the Light.
He would bring balance to the Force, because it was his destiny, and because it would make things right.
"I'm ready," he breathed, voice echoing all around him.
A quiet hum, and then everything turned white.
The room was bathed in a bright white glow. Ahsoka was tempted to cover her eyes, to look away from everything that was happening right before her eyes.
But Obi-Wan's words rang clear in her mind, a haunting echo that sent shivers down her spine:
"I'm sorry."
But what was he sorry about? The possibilities were endless, too difficult for Ahsoka to consider, especially when she knew that Obi-Wan had no control over whatever it was that was happening to him.
In this situation, he had nothing to apologize for. Ahsoka was sure of it.
"Padawan," Master Yoda rumbled, bringing Ahsoka out of her thoughts. As she shifted to turn towards him, the Grandmaster leapt up onto a stool, bringing himself closer to Ahsoka's height and reaching over the side of the bed for Obi-Wan's free hand.
"I just don't understand," she whispered.
Behind her, she could hear the sounds of quiet activity as the Healers gathered control back over the Halls once again. Distantly, she heard snippets of conversation: something about surgeries, about removing the inhibitor chips from the clones currently in the Halls.
And in that moment, it felt as though things were beginning to come back together, except—
Ahsoka blinked, thinking back to when she and Dooku had arrived at the Sith shrine deep below the Temple.
"Master Yoda, there's a Sith shrine below the Temple." Ahsoka's voice trembled as she spoke. "Dooku took me there, and I saw all these…bodies in some sort of a tomb, and they resembled the Sith creatures who were attacking us. That has to be where they came from."
She watched as Master Yoda hummed thoughtfully and nodded, his eyes fixed onto Obi-Wan's face, undeterred by the light.
"And then I…I heard Obi-Wan's voice there," she continued. "It has something to do with him, too, but I don't know. And now he's like this, and I'm beginning to worry that he said sorry because he knows he won't come back. But, Master, I—"
Her voice cracked, and Ahsoka felt a rush of emotions swell up deep in her chest. Her shoulders trembled.
"They're gone. They won't come back, and I—" With a quiet cry, Ahsoka let her head fall into her hands. Tears spilled from her eyes.
The Force shuddered in response, in a way that ached painfully in her mind.
Sniffling, Ahsoka pulled her hands away from her face, quickly wiping them on her leggings before placing them onto the bed, just next to Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"I'm here," she whispered. "I am with you, Master Kenobi."
The Force shifted, a quiet half-step, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things, but through it all, Ahsoka felt it.
Again, Master Yoda hummed, and something in the air snapped into place, almost like a finality, a mournful denouement.
And in that exact moment, the light faded from Obi-Wan's eyes.
With a jolt, Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes to reveal eyes that glowed white.
A/N: And we've reached the end of this chapter! Feel free to scream at me in the reviews :) I'm hoping to update this fic once again in a few weeks or so, but we'll see.
As always, thanks for the support on this fic!