---------------Luke and Leia's Second Birthday---------------

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Luke and Leia! Happy birthday to you!"

The four of us—Obi-Wan, Padme, Yoda, and me—cheer enthusiastically as Luke leans forward from his place on Obi-Wan's lap, and, in two slobbery bursts of air, puffs out the four candles stuck into the green icing.

Padme looks somewhat skeptical as she cuts the cake that Obi-Wan and I made this morning and offers the first piece to Yoda, who politely shakes his head. "Not hungry, I am," he says unconvincingly, "ate before I came, I did." Padme shrugs and slides the plate over to Luke, who is dressed in full cake eating garb, from the bib with dragons all over it to the hat covering his hair.

"It's really not as bad as it looks," Obi-Wan cajoles the small Jedi, "come on…just have a bite."

Luke rips a chunk off his piece and shovels it into his mouth, smearing an inordinate amount of purple sprinkles across his face.

Padme looks at him for half a second, bouncing a giggling Leia on her hip, before turning hesitantly to face Obi-Wan and me.

"Why," she asks, bewildered, "is it pink?"

"It's strawberry!" I cry, "you and Luke both specifically requested a strawberry cake!"

"You should be thanking us, really," Obi-Wan adds reproachfully.

"Exactly!" I agree, nodding my head furiously, "We put a lot into that cake. It took all morning to make."

"And that's not counting the time we spent looking for recipes…"

"Or writing up the grocery list…"

"Or cleaning up the kitchen afterwards…"

"Exactly."

We both face her expectantly.

However, now she is not only as mystified before, she is now clearly struggling not to laugh. Laugh! I shake my head sorrowfully. "She just doesn't recognize fine cuisine," I lament.

"I suppose not," he agrees regretfully. "I suppose we'll have to eat the entire, delightful cake all on our own."

I grin and cut two over-large slices, scooping each onto a plastic plate.

Beside Obi-Wan, Yoda is shaking his head like an over-indulgent parent. "A unique shape that cake has," he points out unnecessarily as my slice dissolves into globs of dough and sugar on my plate.

Naturally, the instant I have a satisfactorily large bite prepared, Padme feels the need to point out—

"But the strawberry extract I bought was clear. I'm still not exactly sure as to why the cake is pink."

"Luke seems to enjoy it," Obi-Wan points out, finding himself unable to eat and balance Luke on his lap at the same time.

Deliberately, I lower my fork, and, oh-so-slowly, meet my wife's eyes. "The strawberry extract was clear," I say solemnly, "but the fruit punch I put in was pink."

"Oh," Padme says, looking somewhat revolted, "that explains the…interesting…texture, I guess," she adds playfully. "Obi-Wan, I thought you were going to supervise him!"

"I'm afraid he just got rather out of control."

"Luke likes it!" I defend.

"And why green icing?" she mourns, now carefully dissecting her slice.

"White was boring." Obi-Wan nods to confirm my statement. "See?" I declare triumphantly.

"And purple sprinkles!" She giggles mirthfully.

"Luke likes purple," Obi-Wan points out.

"Luke also likes eating bugs," she says ruefully, eliciting a squeal of delight from said toddler. "But I hope you didn't bake those into the cake."

"Well, see, there's a funny story about that…"

"Anakin, you didn't!"

"Of course not," I assure her, somewhat amused she thought I would bake bugs into a cake.

Padme situates Leia in her high chair and scoops a little bowlful of vanilla ice cream, which she begins to spoon methodically into Leia's open mouth. Leia smiles at the taste.

It was two years before Leia spoke.

Obi-Wan was seated in an armchair playing Simon Says with Luke. I had just changed her diaper and had decided to take her outside. I slid her arms into her jacket and pulled shoes onto her feet. When I opened the door, Leia called out to her brother.

"Looth!"

My daughter's voice was high and wet. It wobbled as she spoke as if she could not quite figure out how to transform the noises she could make into words.

It wasn't perfect, but it was clear what she meant. "Leia talked!" Luke crowed triumphantly, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and pulling him to where I stood holding. "Did you hear? Do it again! Again! Again!" He chanted, grabbing his sister's hand.

To everyone's dismay, she began to cry and had to be put to bed.

But it is as though some barrier has been breached. She begins to learn new words. Not very quickly, but each new one brings more happiness to us all, especially Luke, who has been wanting badly another child to talk to.

Aside from "Looth," she learns "O-bwun," "Marmy," and "Dada."

When she is five years old, she begins to speak in simple sentences.

It is on the twins' fifth birthday that I begin to realize that my peaceful existence cannot go on. When I was tucking Luke into bed, he said, "Say goodnight to Woggle, too," he demands solemnly, tugging my hand and pointing to an empty space on his pillow.

"Woggle?"

"He's my 'maginary friend. Cause I don't have lot's of friends like the kids on holovision."

"You have me," I reply, "and Obi-Wan, and Mommy, when she can be around. And Leia, too."

"But no other real kids," he says sadly.

I say goodnight to Luke and Woggle and walk in a daze into the living room, which I find empty. Grateful for this small blessing, I heave myself into an armchair and rest my head on my hands.

Maybe Luke shouldn't stay here any more. Maybe…maybe it isn't right to keep him here, so isolated from everything. He's getting to the age when he should be starting school, learning to read and write. Making friends.

And Leia…it's selfish to keep her here. I picture my daughter, sitting listlessly with her back to a chair. She is such a beautiful child, but she has always been…she will always be, different. Slower. If she can get help, any help at all, we should let her.

I walk silently into Leia's bedroom and lean against the doorframe. She moves slightly in her sleep as the light hits her eyes, but yawns and continues dreaming.

I wonder what it's like in Leia's world. Maybe if I could still use the Force, I could speak to her. Maybe she wouldn't have to leave just to get help. I should be able to help her…

Biting my lip, I close the door and return to the living room.

In my absence, Obi-Wan has taken a seat on the couch with a newspaper.

"What's troubling you?" he asks immediately. I frown. I have never grown comfortable to the fact that while I am so much an open book for anyone skilled in the Force, Obi-Wan is perfectly capable of hiding his feelings, should he so choose.

Realizing he will eventually drive me to tell him, I admit, "I've been thinking about Leia...and Luke…Master, do you think we're doing the right thing, keeping them here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…I don't know. Do you ever think it's wrong to keep them here? This isn't…right. They need a chance to live a life—I've lost mine, I don't have a choice but to stay here. But the twins…and you, too, you've done nothing wrong, you should be working on rebuilding the Jedi Order or something." I do not voice my silent hope that I will somehow be of help, somehow redeem myself, but I think from the sad way he looks at me that he knows anyway.

"Anakin," he says haltingly, "Master Yoda, Master Qui-Gon, and myself made a decision several years ago not to rebuild the Jedi order. When the Force presences of both you and Palpatine were released into the Force, the most powerful dark presence and the most powerful light presence, it created a balance. Training people in the light side would siphon off some of the light-side power, and actually help the Dark Side."

I stare at him stunned for a minute. "The Order has existed for thousands…millions…of years. You can't just…"

"It is the right thing to do. As for Luke and Leia…where will they go if you send them away? They have lived here all their lives, they will be unhappy if you send them away."

"At first, maybe. But they deserve to live a life. Padme actually suggested it a few months ago…and I said no outright. I didn't even want to think about it. But I did. What she wanted to do is pretend she was adopting them both, and they could live with her on Corascant. Whenever Senate wasn't in session, the three of them would come back here."

"It would be a big change…for everyone…"

Inevitably, it is done. Leia and Luke move in with their mother, and the three visit as often as they can, which is most weekends.

Leia gets help from every brand of medic, teacher, and therapist available. She is never as fast as Luke, and never outgrows being a little girl, but she is able to function a little, at least to the point of feeding and dressing herself.

Luke is a wonderful brother, from what I hear and see of him. Padme tells me he is very protective and more like an older brother than a twin. Apparently, he allows her to follow him most places and won't allow his friends to tease her at all. I am proud, and, when he is here for his seventh birthday, tell him so.

Padme also tells me that Leia is making friends of her own at the special school she is attending. A deaf girl named Lydia and another brain damaged child, a boy two years younger than her, Ponton. Padme sends me a home video of the three together, and watching the children play I almost forget they are different at all.

The first time I really, truly begin to understand my little girl is when the twins are ten and they and Padme are here for two weeks. The third night of the visit finds Luke huddled over a table playing holochess with Obi-Wan while Padme and I are sprawled across the floor playing Candy Land with Leia. "Leia play with Luke," she begs.

"You can't play with Lukey, sweetheart," I say gently, "He and Uncle Obi-Wan are playing right now."

"Want to play," she insists stubbornly, bottom lip trembling and eyes threatening to overflow.

"Sweety, you don't know how to play. Play Candy Land with Mommy and Daddy," Padme wheedles, stroking her daughter's back.

By this time, Luke has turned from the game. "Leia play with Luke?" she asks now of her brother.

"No, Leia," he says dismissively, "You don't know how to play."

I frown hearing his careless tone, and remind myself to talk to him later, when Leia begins crying, temporarily stopping all activity.

Leia's crying is not just crying, it is always full out tantrums. She screams and pulls her hair, throws things, and all we can do is sit with her and make sure she doesn't hurt herself. I grab her flailing feet and Obi-Wan holds her arms still and Padme supports her back and we lift her, struggling, onto the couch.

Her fit eventually subsides to just tears as she begins to tire. She continues sobbing, but stops fighting us so that we are able to let her go. Amidst all the unintelligible moaning, I hear, distinctive, "Do nothing good, stupid Leia. Want to play with Luke…"

I had never before realized she knew she was different.

That night, Padme and I are talking, when, in a lull in the conversation, she says, "Ani…I'm pregnant. We're going to have another baby."

I smile. "That's good news," I say softly, bringing her face to mine and kissing her gently.

She breaks away. "I don't know what to do," she says miserably, "I'm not ready for another baby; I don't have the time. Ani…do you think we should give the baby up?"

I've already given up two of my children, to a great extent. "No."

Her eyes glisten with tears. "I want this baby, too, but I don't know what to do. The new queen is seriously considering finding another Senator, and something like this…"

"The baby could live here, for a few years," I suggest cautiously. "We could take care of a baby."

"Yes, I know you could," she says with a half smile, "but I can't give this baby up, even to you, even if I'd see it all the time. I did that with the twins; I want to raise this baby from the beginning."

"Come live on Degobah," I propose. "Stop work in the Senate; you and the kids could move back here…we could be more of a family."

"I couldn't do that to the children."

When the baby is born, eight months after the twins' eleventh birthday, Padme is dismissed from the Senate.

She comes without the twins this time, and, even without the Force, I can see how distraught she is. "I've been in politics all my life," she says bitterly, weeping onto my shoulder. "I feel so humiliated. She did it in front of everyone else, and they were all looking at me like I was some awful person. It was terrible."

I stroke her hair. "What matters most is that we're together," I whisper in her ear, "We have the children, and each other. Nothing else matters."

Padme and the baby, a girl, Leanne, do end up coming to Degobah. It is wonderful, having them here, but for those six months I do not see Luke and Leia at all. They are living with their Aunt Sola and her family.

Leanne has curly dark blond hair, brown eyes, and tiny, delicate features, even smaller than Luke and Leia were at her age. Her skin is fair, almost translucent, but seems to glow. She is quiet and everything she does has an ethereal feel about it.

When Padme decides to go back to Naboo and work for an environmental protection group, she leaves Leanne behind. Since she is looked after by two men who have little contact with anyone else, she is probably the best loved baby in the galaxy. She barely whimpers when someone rushes to her side, she is always held and talked to. She is a beautiful child, just like her sister. She is what Leia could have been.

The next time I see the twins it is for their thirteenth birthday. They are both incredibly different from the last time I saw them, and I am sad to think of what I missed. Luke comes to Obi-Wan and me with girl problems (Which of course delighted me to no end. Really.), and Leia is quieter than before.

I stand quietly, watching the three children play. Luke holds Leanne and sings little songs while making her tiny feet dance. Leia sings along and laughs loudly at her sister's dancing.

They look happy, content.

It appears that despite everything, we are still a family.

Obi-Wan is watching the scene as well, with a grin on his face. He cares for the children as much as I do, and is just as much of a father-figure as I am—maybe, to Luke, though I hate to admit it, more than I am.

A timer goes off in the kitchen, and the two of us meander in. It's time to take our cake out of the oven and decorate it.

THE END!

Author's FINAL Note:

Wow. It's over. I seriously am in shock. The ending is a little shaky, because I couldn't quite figure out how to end. I hope at least some of you enjoyed the more lighthearted tone of this chapter.

Please review; it's your last chance!

Thanks everyone who's stuck with me. Hope to see some of you in the future; I plan to keep writing, if not in the SW universe than maybe HP, LotR, or PotC.