I do not own Star Wars. This Fanfiction is just how I wanted to express my love for the Empire, Anakin and Vader.
Anakin can still hear the voice of Sidious in his mind as the blade of his saber strikes through the council of Separatists. He can't hear the sound of their pleas over it, the promise of peace, the end of the war. With each body that falls, he can feel something inside him growing, like a flame being stoked. He can feel the heat of the planet sinking into his bones alongside whatever is within him.
He is surrounded by heat. It's almost suffocating, the humidity in the air, the heaviness of his robes clinging to his aching body. There are no words to describe the way he's feeling other than intoxicated— not by any form of wines or alcohol, but by the power he can feel thrumming through the tips of his fingers.
He needs more.
He steps over the decapitated, charred bodies of the former Separatist leaders and lifts the doors back open. The force feels different now, as if there were somehow parts of it he had missed before. It was an infinite field of energy that bound all life together, but there were aspects of it that had been closed to him, elements that needed peace to be used. Now he knows all he needs is to reach out, let the strength of his anger guide the way.
He drags his saber across the metal walls of the mining complex—bits and bolts arcing through the air, sparks jumping at his cloak. The smell of it burns his nose. He forces open the last remaining door and walks back out towards his ship. At the edge of the force, he can feel the other beings moving around the planet, oblivious to the history that has just been made here. There's something else too— just at the edge of the planet's atmosphere. His eyes flicker up to the sky, drawn always to the light of his wife.
He can feel her presence even heavier than the force. A beacon amongst the dark obsidian mountains ahead of him. There's someone else with her, but they're cloaked from him. There's only one person who can hide from him like that, only one whose tethered bond has been cut so recently that there's still remnants floating at the back of his mind.
The ship touches down a few moments later with the hangar doors opening and Padme running out, as fast as she's able with her mere days from giving birth. Anakin reaches out for her, touches his gloved hands to the soft skin of her wrists. She looks so out of place here.
"What are you doing here?" He asks.
Padme reaches up and places her hand against his cheek. She presses her fingers against the scar just beneath his eye, rubs her thumb against the dark circles there.
"I was so worried," She says. "I've been hearing terrible things."
Her voice is tight as she speaks, her breathing labored. From this close, he can see the sheen of sweat against her skin that's been there long before she landed on this planet. Anakin's grip tightens around her wrist.
"What kind of things?" His lips snarl back as if it's venom sliding across his tongue instead of words. "From who?"
"You're hurting me, Anakin."
He loosens his grip, and she pulls her hands away. "I would never hurt you, Padme. I did all this to save you. "
"What did you do, Anakin?" Her voice is pleading like she already knows. Like she's already made up her mind to what he's become.
"Obi-wan has poisoned your mind." He takes a step closer to her. She hesitates but stands her ground. "He's turned you against me."
"Anakin!" She yells, tears are trailing down her cheeks. "What did you do?"
"It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that I'm stronger now. I can protect you."
"I've never needed you to protect me, Anakin," She wipes at her face. Even tear-stained, she's beautiful. Anakin wants to reach out to her. "I only ever wanted your love."
"You have it." He tells her, "You have all of it."
"Then tell me it isn't true. Tell me that Obi-wan was wrong, that it's all a misunderstanding."
He does reach out now, gloved hand against her braided hair. A small part of him calms when she doesn't move away, but he's still on edge; her words are pushing him to the precipice.
"I would never lie to you, Padme."
She exhales like she's been stabbed through the heart. A choked sob ripping its way through her throat.
"Anakin, please. You're a good person. Don't do this."
He can feel himself growing frustrated, the fire within him licking up the walls of his chest.
"I've seen you die, Padme. Night after night, I was awoken with the heavy weight of loss across my chest. It suffocated me. I won't let it happen. Not like my mother."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing. Anakin, come back with us. Explain yourself, and maybe the council will—"
"Us?"
Padme's mouth snaps shut. Her eyes are wide. "Me. Come back with me."
"He brought you here, didn't he? He turned you against me. Brought you here to trick me!"
"No! Anakin! That's not true. There's no trick!" She's desperate now, fingers clinging to his robes. "He cares for you, for us. He just wants to help."
"You're lying! He's turned on me, just like the rest of the Jedi. Just like you. "
He doesn't want to hurt Padme, but he can feel his anger bubbling beneath his skin, just like the magma surrounding him. He's so close to the edge, so close to blowing up. His hands curl into fists at his sides. Padme's legs give out under her, and she collapses to the ground— or she would have if Anakin hadn't caught her.
Her body shakes slightly in his arms. She reaches out, her fingers barely brush his cheek. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but her body convulses violently just as the words start to form on her tongue, and then she stills.
"Padme?" He reaches out through the force, trying to find her. All he feels is the looming cloaked presence of the man ahead of him.
Anakin lifts his eyes from his wife's lifeless body to the man who betrayed him. His old master. His old friend. His lips curl back against his bared teeth as if he were an animal. He pulls Padme closer to his chest. Obi-wan steps off the ship.
"You did this," Anakin tells him. "This was you."
"I did nothing, Anakin."
"You don't get to call me that!" He snaps. "Don't speak that name."
Obi-wan steps closer still, his hand resting on the hilt of his saber. "That is your name. I will not call you anything else. Especially not one the sith have concocted for you."
"You don't have the right to choose anymore," Anakin tells him. "There's no one left here with that name."
"Then to me, you are nameless," Obi-wan says. "Let go of her now."
Of course, he speaks down to him. Of course, he is nothing. Always in the shadow of the great Obi-wan, never stoic enough, always the warrior, never the monk. Always compared. The Jedi have looked down at him since he was a boy. Always scolding, never teaching, just expecting. He's glad that at least a few of them were dead by his hand. Hopefully, there will be one more.
"How dare you." Anakin spits. "How dare you speak to me like that. You don't know how strong I've become."
"Move away from her."
"You killed her! You realized that she might side with me, and you killed her."
"What would I gain from killing her? She's innocent. Just like the Jedi, just like the younglings. None of them have ever done anything to you."
"Then you don't know me as well as you thought."
Anakin carefully drops Padme's body to the ground but moves in front of her, blocking Obi-wan's path. He can sense how desperately the other man wants to get to her, and it sets his blood boiling. Obi-wan will not have her.
"I thought I did. But you've let this dark lord twist your mind. Made you into the thing you swore to destroy."
"Enough!" Anakin can feel every inch of his body spun tight like a chord, every muscle pulled tight. "It is your mind that has been twisted; mine has been set free."
"Listen to yourself!"
"No more listening, no more talking." Anakin pulls his saber from his belt, letting the ugly blue beam light up the space between them. "The Jedi have been eradicated Obi-wan. It's time to join your brethren."
He jumps up and lands right in front of him, bringing his lightsaber down against his head. Obi-wan is quick, though, and has his own already there, blocking the swing. Their blades collide with one another against the hell that is Mustafar. Sparks fly across both of their faces. Each breath Anakin takes pulls cinders into his lungs.
They clash and clash against one another. Once their fighting styles were similar, Anakin had watched with wide eyes as his master trained beside him, studied how his body moved, how the lightsaber was an extension of him, not just something he held. Obi-wan was careful and calculated, and Anakin tried, he tried so hard— but now he lets himself be ruthless. His swings are chaotic and filled with brute strength. He swings it down again and again like the blade of an executioner. He is harsh. He is violent. He is desperate.
He isn't bleeding, but he can see red in his vision. Perhaps it's the flames of the planet or his own ugly heat boiling over, but he blinks through it.
"I don't want to kill you," Obi-wan tells him. Anakin laughs. It's a hideous sound, and Obi-wan flinches. Not even when Anakin's blade slices through his skin does he do that.
"Then you are weak."
He kicks Obi-wan back with the flat of his foot, then curls his hand around his throat through the force as he stumbles to catch himself. His eyes go wide, and his hands dig into the skin of his own throat, nails drawing blood as he tries to breathe.
He could kill him so easily. Just a flick of the wrist, and his throat would collapse. It's what he deserves, and in his anger, his breath heavy and labored, almost at his breaking point, he almost does. But he thinks of Padme, cold and dead on the floor behind them. He feels something then— not within himself, but beyond, within the force. A small breath of life, barely there.
His mind reels, and in that moment, he hesitates. His control slips, and Obi-wan falls to the floor, gasping. Padme. He can feel her. She's so far, like trying to grasp the clouds.
He doesn't notice Obi-wan slipping away. Doesn't realize it until he blinks out of his focus, and the spot he was lying is empty. The ship they arrived in is still docked, but he hears the distant exhaust of his own interceptor in the sky above.
He moves quickly back to Padme's body, touches his palm to her chest. It's still. But through the force he can feel her but she's slipping away with each passing moment. He doesn't think. He places his other hand atop his other and reaches out as far as he can, with every bit of strength he has left. Something within him dislodges, he can feel it loosen and shift. It travels through him, feels the heat of it running down his arm, settling in his palm. It falls like a stone off a cliff's edge into Padme.
Anakin waits in silence. Breath caught in his throat. He dares not move.
Her eyes flicker open and she gasps long and loud, filling her empty lungs with the ember filled air.