A/N- Thanks so much to everyone, especiallyAr-Zimraphel and VA-Parky. Your reviews are what keeps me going when Writer's Block interferes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Padmé felt a sudden chill and wrapped her arms around herself. The chill had nothing to do with the carefully maintained temperature in Vader's quarters, and had everything to do with what was about to happen.
Nervousness grasped her. It felt to her not unlike the reunions they had after Anakin had been gone fighting in the Clone Wars. The feeling was the same, the mixture of anxiety and hope. So much more rode on this now; she would be seeing the full extent of his injuries, and there would be nothing between them, nothing to shield either of them from the truth. She would still love him, but convincing him could be a problem.
She remembered a conversation with Qui-Gon that rose suddenly out of the swirling mist of her mind.
"You have heard the prophesy of the Chosen one?"
She nodded at him.
"Yes. It always hung on Anakin's shoulders; it was far too much of a burden for him to bear."
She saw something in the Jedi Master's eyes that almost seemed to be a hint of sadness or regret. Qui-Gon had been Anakin's greatest hero and mentor, and his death had impacted her husband more then he had been willing to admit.
"There were… many mistakes made with Anakin." He shifted, moving on to an easier subject for himself. "He is still the Chosen One, Padmé. That has not changed."
His eyes gripped her, forcing her to look into them and hear his words.
"The decisions made now as far as he is concerned will impact lives all across the galaxy. The future is unforeseeable. The entire weight of the Force can be shifted by your and his decisions now, and they will either liberate us or sink us further into darkness."
Padmé stood for a moment, absorbing that. When she spoke, it was with a gentle peace and strength.
"His choice has to be his, and his alone. I will not manipulate him into completing the prophesy through using our love."
Qui-Gon nodded sagely.
"Love can perhaps save him. It is all he and you have left. Perhaps it will be enough."
She took a deep breath in and let it out. The hiss in and out of Vader's constant breathing suddenly stopped. It had become a background noise to her in the time at Bast Castle, and hearing it cease was unnerving. It was replaced with a weaker, sicker noise of a respirator.
This is still Anakin, she reminded herself. I can do this; he is my husband. Our love will be enough.
The first thing she heard was the loud sound of his boots on the metal floor. She forced herself to breathe as she concentrated on his feet emerging from behind the platform he slept on.
She felt his gaze on her, and ignored it, allowing her eyes to travel slowly up across the path to his face. She reached his shoulder and took one last breath, gathering her courage.
She looked straight into his eyes, not even noticing the terrible scars that arched across his pale face. His eyes were the same color of bright blue, and they were filled with vast, sweeping remorse, guilt and pain. They were Anakin's eyes, and even though she thought she had prepared herself for all possible outcomes, for all possible sights, she found herself loosing control at the sight of his eyes. Everything came into place, and she was reminded of the younglings he had murdered, reminded of the look of hate in his blue eyes.
She forcibly calmed herself, drawing on the Force as she gazed into his eyes. He fell to his knees, the loud slap of them hitting the floor filling the chamber. Eternity seemed to come and pass as they stared into each others' eyes, no words necessary.
All shields and boundaries were down, and they flowed into each other through the Force until there was nothing left between them, nothing left more to understand. She encompassed his pain, taking it unto herself until it was a part of her, just as much as her love and forgiveness was part of him.
Somehow in the flood, the race of images that they exchanged, somehow through the swirling tide of emotion, Padmé managed to keep a small corner of her mind private. Somehow, she still managed to retain the secret of her children.
He dropped his head, and the spell was broken. She saw tears slowly falling down his face; tears of bitter guilt. She managed only then to take in the rest of his face, the physical deformity that encompassed him. She saw the light blue device that went from the base of his neck, circling around to attach needles in his throat. Only then did she understand his humiliation, the horror the once-handsome man must have felt at loosing a part of himself.
When she spoke, it was with a clarity that surprised her. She did not know that she could even breathe, let alone speak after all that had passed.
"Is this the price you paid?"
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Vader paused, trying to collect himself. In her eyes, he had seen horror that he knew transcended his appearance. The horror was not for what he looked like; indeed, it was for what he had done. He felt weakened and tired, struck down by his own conscience.
She had seen everything he had done. She had flowed into his presence the same way he had entered her mind, and it was all over. All hope for forgiveness and redemption was lost and gone. Guilt ensnared him, binding him with impenetrable darkness in chains of despair.
He was lost. Truly lost. He had begun to see that, begun to realize that his only hope was to turn back, to come back to the man he had been before. But he also knew that such a thing was impossible. He had known it that day standing in the Chancellor's office after having struck aside a Jedi Master in desperation. The look on Mace Windu's face from so long ago floated before his eyes.
He had committed himself to the Dark Side then because it was all he could do. There had never been any hope, not even a single whisper of wanting to come back before it was too late, before he passed the point of no return, because the second he had chosen Padmé over the Jedi, he had passed that point. Now, after ten years of misdeeds, there was no hope, no light that was strong enough to pierce the darkness. He longed to reach out and touch the light as he had before, but it was simply impossible. Despair crawled over him, and he wept.
"Is this the price you paid?"
Her voice was kind and gentle and strong. He could sense the light within her, the way she belonged to the Force, the way it captured her and lifted her. He was unworthy; he was a despicable creature that had no right to even look upon her in all of her glory. Yet he somehow conjured the strength, somehow found the willpower to speak although he could not lift his head.
"This?" He asked bitterly in his thin voice, feeling the promise she had made of their love evaporate into the air. "The price I paid was in every day knowing that you were lost, that you were dead, and that it was me that killed you. The price was in rising every day to loose even more of myself because there was no hope, there was nothing except pain."
He felt her pity come to him, and he despised it. He was not worthy of pity, not after all he had done.
"I continue to pay the price," he rasped, "In knowing now that I am beyond hope, that you will never forgive me."
He felt a fleeting triumph that he had finally spoken the words, had finally expressed to her and himself what he had known all along. Now all that would happen is that she would agree, would refuse to forgive him because that was the less painful path, the one in which he would not have to face the inner demons that had tormented him for so long. For her admitting it would be a kind of defeat for her, and then they would be able to go back to the easy, clear-cut world in which he was a monster that had no soul and she was his prisoner-wife. That world would be simpler and easier, and if he could convince himself of the façade, there would be no more pain.
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Padmé felt his pain, the deep longing that no words could express. She could sense that he was on the edge, that he was teetering on the balance, that he was so close to coming back to her.
She walked up to him slowly, her feet padding softly until she stood before his kneeling form, staring blankly at the ground. She knelt before him, and felt his hackles rise because of the self-loathing he carried within him. He did not want her to touch him, because it would complicate things beyond measure, it would give him more pain. But he did not realize that it would also save him, would also alleviate the sorrow.
"Anakin," she whispered softly. It was not an accusation, it was the gentle call from the woman who had been his wife. It was the name of a small boy on Tatooine who had been selfless enough to risk his life for that of a stranger. It was the name of the hero who had been applauded throughout the galaxy for his bravery and brightness. It was the name of Obi-Wan's pupil and brother, the name of a man who had known brightness and unity.
And, more then all that, it was the name of the man she loved. It was the name she had whispered to him in the silence and bliss when they were alone. It was the name of the man who had wanted to be the father of her child. It was the name of her protector and husband, the man in whom she had complete faith and love. This is the happiest day of my life. She remembered that day and wept silently in her heart.
She caught a memory and gave it to him, allowing him to see through her eyes. I know… there is still… good… in him.
Come back to me, she whispered to him. Forgive yourself; it is the only way. She allowed him to share in her love, allowed him to come and live for a brief instant in the world of light she inhabited. And for a moment, she saw and felt the man he had been before. For a moment, she saw blue eyes untroubled by anything rise out of the darkness, and she knew that it was Anakin, that it was her husband, that he could hold her again.
The next sensation she had was being wildly shoved aside by a huge, invisible force that shoved her away towards a wall. She barely managed to catch herself before she slammed against the wall of Vader's room, unharmed but shaken. She closed her eyes, knowing that it was only his desperate attempts to shield himself from Anakin Skywalker that had prompted him to hurt her. Still, she could not suppress a bubble of anger that rose in her, and she knew how damaging it could be to him.
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Vader's breathing came quicker then before. Every inhalation was a struggle, much like the one raging in his heart.
He had hurt her. Again. He felt a burst of hate swell in her that mimicked his own. Deep anger at himself rose, warring with the sorrow within him. He had not known what it was that had prompted him to dip into the deep wells of anger in the Dark Side. It had been almost unconscious thought that had prompted him to do so. All his self-hatred had rose up at her insisting that it was letting go of his revulsion that would save him.
She asks too much, he thought wearily. Too much for him to let go of the only things that had pushed him forward for the last ten years.
He saw her slowly get up, and concern overrode everything else. But he still did not move.
She came up to him again, but did not kneel to see his face as she had done before. He knew the words of hate and condemnation that were bound to come, and he closed his eyes in preparation. But, strangely enough, she did not say a word, and when a few seconds had passed, he opened his eyes slowly.
Large, soft brown eyes looked into his, and he flinched away from the gentle kindness in them.
"I will never condemn you, no matter what you have done," she said at last. Vader expected the words to sting, to burn him until he was lost again in a tide of hatred, but they did not. He felt vaguely amazed that anyone could be that selfless, that anyone could love him that much, that anyone could forgive him. The words seemed to somehow calm the tide within him, somehow seemed to drown out the darkness. He had not expected that, and struggled for a little bit, trying to find the anger that had always seemed to be a beacon leading out of the storm.
He could not find it, and even as he fought the love that rose within him, he felt parts of himself coming back into focus, parts of Anakin Skywalker. He remembered his old benevolence, his old calmness and determination, and who he had been. He had always remembered himself with bitterness and anger, but somehow he did not feel those.
For a moment, she caught and held his eyes. He knew that she could see the change in him, that she could sense the reaction her words had started. And even as he tried to resist, shying away from the explosion in his soul, the love filled him more, swelling a storm within him. And for a brief, heart-splitting moment, he saw everything as it could be.
He saw himself with Padmé, out of the suit, smiling and laughing with happiness. Himself in the dream turned, and he caught a glimpse of blue eyes that radiated peace and tranquility instead of despair. Then the dream faded, but the promise did not.
For the first time, Vader realized that he had a choice. He began to see that he was no longer bound to the life he had chosen; she had liberated him.
On one side, there was the path of darkness and despair. It was the path he was on, the path he had followed for a decade. He sensed that it would take him deeper into the darkness until it consumed him, swallowing him whole. He sensed from the path alluring power, power that he could take and hold until the galaxy was his own.
On the other path, there was light. He saw Padmé on the path with a gentle smile, waiting for him. In a moment of profoundness, he realized that she had always been waiting, always been calmly there. All he had to do was forgive himself, and let go of the hopelessness and the denouncement on his soul. It was there, he could feel it… all he had to do was ask…
He waited for one moment more, weighing each side. He wanted to right the wrongs he had caused, he had a burning desire within him to set everything as it had been before he had fallen into darkness. He had not seen a path before, not seen any other alternative to despair and anger. But there was one, and it now lay at his fingertips, he realized with a sensation that might have been joy.
"Padmé?" The word came from his lips before he could stop it. She had turned away from him, facing the bench. Her eyes met his as she turned around, and he could sense that she knew then, knew the changes in him, the conflict deep within his soul. A small smile lit her face, and he felt joy and love merge within him.
"Anakin," she breathed, and he thought with his new awareness, Yes, Anakin. For that was who he was; he was Anakin Skywalker, her husband. Realization dawned on him slowly until Vader was too late to stop it, and the darkness began to slip from him, falling away, loosing its grip on his heart as a new light entered him, filling him whole. But there still was a shadow of doubt, still a lingering cloud that hung over him.
"I… I want…" There was no doubt in his mind what he wanted, but still the words seemed impossible to say, impossible to even think.
She came up to him, softly sinking down until her eyes met his. She reached down to his hand, holding it softly, and he did not resist.
"I want you to forgive me," he finally burst out. She smiled gently, and he was reminded immediately of her beauty.
"I have, Anakin. The only thing that remains is for you to forgive yourself." He thought, truly thought about her words. Was there forgiveness from himself? Could he begin to see past what he had done? The face of the murdered child hung before him. It took him a moment to discover the feelings he was having. There was still a touch of the same disgust and self-loathing, but there was also something else behind it. He realized that it was sorrow.
He thought of the potential of that child, of all the other children he had slaughtered. He thought of the cruelty and unfairness of their deaths, and the fact that their lives had been cut short. And tears ran down his face, not tempered by self-pity, but only of pure grief for his victims.
It was me, he thought slowly. It was me, all me, my fault. The words a female Jedi had shouted at him before he killed her rang in his mind. "You will never be forgiven! The weight of your sins will overcome you until you have died in your soul, and all that will remain will be your hatred and pain until they destroy you from the inside."
Her prediction had come true. He thought bitterly, This is the real prophesy of the Chosen One. No, something within him whispered. This is not what you have been chosen for, Anakin Skywalker. There is something more for you, even though you have done terrible things, blinded by your twisted love and arrogance. But there is hope, the voice within him continued. There is still a way you can redeem yourself. How, he asked the voice within him. How? The answer came. Ask her.
He repeated the question to her, his tears fading.
"How?"
She raised her head, every bit as regal and poised as she had ever been.
"You can start making amends, Anakin. You can undo the bloodshed you have wrought by helping to bring down the Empire that has risen in the ashes of the innocently slain." A small smile illuminated her face. "You can bring down the Emperor; not for personal gain, but so a new Republic unfettered by corruption and intimidation can rise. Your sins will never be forgotten, but in time, they may be may be outdone by your selflessness. And it may be enough."
Vader absorbed her words. What she called for would be a sacrifice of ambition; he would have to let go of the dark dream he had carried within him for domination. He clung to the dream for a moment before he realized that it would be bought with blood and that in it would only lay more emptiness and pain.
Perhaps he could begin to start healing the galaxy he had wronged. It would never be completely enough, and it would not be an easy life, but it would be a good one, and he would be free of sorrow. Perhaps he could, once again, take up the mantle of a Jedi knight. The thought was odd in his mind; he had exterminated all of the Jedi, hunted them out and slaughtered them. Well, not all of them, he amended. There was still Obi-Wan.
"I… will," he said, binding himself to the promise of Anakin Skywalker. For a moment, Vader protested, reminding him of all the power he could have, and the fact that she could be lying, that she would never really forgive him. And, for a moment, Anakin was tempted by the power, tempted to believe that she was lying. But then, he banished the monster within him, and there was only Anakin.
It felt good to be Anakin Skywalker, he realized slowly. He re-learned his name, saying it slowly. Anakin. Once he was done, he felt almost as if he could weep with happiness. He reached out to the Light Side, flexing it like a muscle he did not even know he had. All the darkness he had felt, the despair and the anger, it all felt like it had been a bad dream, and that he was finally awakening from it. The pain removed itself until it was no more, and he was free, freer then he ever had been.
He was no less powerful then before, yet suddenly he felt motivated, he felt foolishly optimistic and youthful. It was such a change from the bitterness he had felt earlier that he laughed. It scraped the nerves of his throat and hurt him, but he continued, simply because it felt good to laugh.
He could feel the joy and triumph ascending from his wife. He turned to her with bright blue eyes, and saw her self-assured grin. All his joy faded; to be replaced with a deeper, longer-lasting infinite love, one that rose in him until he could hardly breathe, hardly think. It quieted him, and there was still one question that remained.
She sensed his sudden disquiet, and moved closer to him until they were standing only inches apart.
"I love you," she whispered with no finesse. It was a simple statement, and yet spoke volumes to him, filling him whole with compassion and tenderness. "I have never stopped loving you, even when you were encased in the shell of Vader." She shuddered, and he was tempted to wrap his arms around her. "When I saw you kill the younglings, something within me died. It took me a long time to realize that it was not my love, but instead my hope."
Anakin was painfully reminded of the suit when she brushed up against his breastplate, bumping against the devices that kept him alive. With wide eyes, she captured one of his tears with her fingertip and brought it to her mouth, tasting it.
"I have found my hope, Anakin. I have found it in you," she said softly. An indescribable wave of emotion came at her words. Elation almost painful in its intensity rose in him, setting his soul ablaze. Love swelled in him, and pride, pride that she had been able to see all along what he had not.
He swallowed, almost unable to contain the flood of peace and happiness that had rose at her words.
"I love you," he whispered thickly. "I always have… forgive…" His words trailed off as she put a finger to his lips. The risk of infection to his old wounds did not seem to matter to him. Nothing mattered.
Their souls met, entwining in a blaze of love and light that encircled Anakin. It purged all the darkness in his soul, until he was everything that he had been before. Everything passed before him in that moment, everything that had happened, everything that he had done. And it was all forgiven. A huge weight had been lifted from him, and he could finally smile.
He did not realize that he would kiss her until his lips were on hers. It was a tender kiss, not marked by desire or passion. It was the first time she had touched him in any such way, and he found himself knowing that he was not worthy. And not caring. His gloved hand came to rest in her hair, pressing her lips into his with more intensity. He loved her; she was his life, his every breath, his every thought. She was his and he was hers; there was nothing more then this that mattered, that ever had mattered. It was just them, and it would be just them forever.
And as his soul raised itself higher and higher into the night, he found something that he had thought he had lost forever. He found peace.