"Don't you dare 'weave us 'gain, Bi-Wan! You just came back yesterday!" Leia protested, tugging on his sleeve.

Luke's azure eyes were wide and pleading. "Bi-Wan, don't go!"

Obi-Wan chuckled, kneeling to look them both solemnly in the eye. "I'll be back before night, younglings, I promise." He patted their heads affectionately. "Now, be good for your mother, okay?"

Leia giggled. "We're always good, Bi-Wan!"

Padme raised a brow at Obi-Wan. "Yes, this little angel had no qualms about putting sand in her brother's bed one night before they went to bed."

The little girl twisted her feet uncomfortably, her expression sheepish. "Well, I knew Luke didn't 'wike sand soo I thought it would be a funny joke . . . "

"I got her back though," Luke said proudly. "I made the Force blown it into hers and then she had to cwean up her bed instead!"

Obi-Wan couldn't hold back his laugh, disguising it quickly as a cough. He took Leia sternly by the shoulders. "Now, no more pranks on your brother, at least until I get back, alright?"

"It didn't even work, anyway!" Leia objected. "I 'ad to spend an hour cweaning it out of my sheets! I need to get 'im back!"

Padme pulled the twins towards her, her voice meaning business. "No revenge, Leia. Now guys, go inside and eat the breakfast on the table. Obi-Wan needs to go get supplies for the next month."

"Why does he have to go all the way to Market Place?" Leia complained. "Mos Espa is much closer!"

Padme's tone was soothing. "He has to go to different places each time, Leia, so there's a smaller chance of him being recognized. Besides, there are too many Imperials stationed near Mos Espa. You don't want Obi-Wan to be captured, do you?"

Leia stuck out her bottom lip. "No, I guess not," she said grudgingly. "Bye, Bi-Wan! Be safe!" She bounded into his arms for a quick hug, then flounced back inside for her meal.

Obi-Wan smiled tenderly after her, then turned to Padme, giving her a hug. "I'll be back soon. Stay safe, and make sure those two don't get back into the chest for Ana- the lightsaber," he corrected. "We don't want to draw unnecessary attention when the twins aren't training."

Padme nodded. "Don't worry about us, Obi-Wan. They'll probably just spend the day bugging the heck out of C3PO." She smirked. "Or, in Luke's case, pulling out the wires of everything he gets his hands on to see how they work." Slowly, her smile faded, her tone becoming more serious. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. I don't know how I would have raised those two by myself, without Ana- without you. I-" Her voice trembled, but she paused, taking a deep breath and straightening as it regained its strength. "Thank you for being here with us, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan smiled, both the pain and affection evident in his eyes. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."


"Where are the Jedi?" Vader hissed, his tone sending shivers down the spines of even the Imperial officers at his side.

"Even if we knew," a man spat, "you'll never know." He sneered at the Sith before spitting on the ground. "They are far more powerful than you, Vader. You're only a slave; a pet of the Emperor's. You have no power; you have no-"

The man was dead before his head even hit the ground.

"Now," Vader said silkily, strolling the perimeter of people- all traitors, rounded up for their rebellion against the stationed troops. "I think we've learned from his little tantrum, hm?"

"We will never yield to you!" A woman straightened bravely, shaking slightly but her eyes firm and defiant. "You can massacre and kill all you want, Vader, but we will never submit to such a monster."

Vader turned swiftly, his eyes glowing yellow. "Is that so?" He stepped forward, slowly, his posture menacing. "Perhaps you are unaware of my mission here. I am not only here for the Jedi- I am here to put you in line."

Then the screaming started.


Padme busied herself with housework, scrubbing at the sand strewn floors, straightening everything in sight, and wiping at already gleaming counters when there was no excuse to work on anything else. Luke's giggles filled the air, followed by Leia's shrieks as the twins played with plastic sabers in the courtyard. She shook her head, amused. Those two were more competitive than any other kids she had ever known. Other children their age were happy to eat, sleep, and play with toys, but no; hers had to challenge each other every day to saber fights and contests as to who could make the farthest Force push or could Force lift the heaviest thing- those activities usually resulting in Padme cleaning up scattered chairs and broken pots.

"You can't 'wuse your Jedi mind tricks on me, Leia!" Luke yelled, breathless from laughter. "Stick to the saber 'twicks; I'm not weak minded!"

"Urghh!" A frustrated stamp could be heard clearly across the courtyard. "It's not fair, Luke! You always win wif' sabers! I'm done!" There was a loud clatter, a few breathless gasps, then Leia's smug voice: "What 'bout this- let's see who can 'wift Momma's huge marble vase!"

Padme dropped the sponge and sprinted outside.

"You two!" she scolded, trying not to react at Leia's almost comical look of disappointment. "We're going out for a walk, now!"

"Momma!" Leia whimpered, crossing her arms. "I was just about to beat Luke at something!"

"Not at the expense of the furniture," Padme said sternly, ushering the twins out into the blazing sun and closing the door behind them. "Why don't you two race instead?"

A devilish smirk crossed Leia's features. "Fine." She spun to face him, her expression challenging. "Readygo!"

Luke shouted in protest as she sprinted off giggling, quickly following suite and yelling his unhappiness at the head start after her. Padme shook her head, smiling after them. In the bliss of the moment her mental defenses went down, her mind reaching, grasping at what was both a balm and a poison to her heart . . . But in her rapture she remembered not the latter, only the former, the bright rays of the familiar suns tugging at her heartstrings and melting her icy and uncaring pretense.

For the first time since that day, she allowed herself to remember, remember him, releasing the memories from their mental prison and letting them crash in triumphant ecstasy over her, swirling her up in the depth and passion of their warmth . . .

And she remembered a little boy with a bright smile and a brilliant mind, smiling at her in childish adoration . . .

Are you an angel?

I made this for you . . . so you'd remember me . . .

She absentmindedly fingered the japor snippet, tracing the familiar patterns, even after all this time still unable - as cold and aloof as she appeared to be when concerning the twins' father - to ever release the clasp from around her neck.

Now the memories came racing at her, faster, every stolen moment, overwhelming her in their intensity- a tender hug on the sands, a breakdown in a garage, a broken man kneeling before a freshly dug grave, his shoulders shaking with sorrow as he tried to remain strong . . .

The glare of the suns reflecting in twinkling cerulean eyes as they did in Luke's and the flash of a mischievous smile identical to Leia's . . .

And her heart ached, broke all over again for Anakin Skywalker.

If only he could be there with them, and see his children like this . . .

No.

She cursed her mind for her weakness.

He was gone from their lives . . .

And good riddance.


The screaming and crying fell onto deaf ears as Vader marched unseeingly through the chaos, utterly apathetic to the scene before him. Children were screaming, mothers clawing at him in their desperation, cowardly men on their knees in protest- yet he could not feel pity for them. The irritation rose, and then the bitterness, the beast clawing at him from inside demanding more blood, more suffering . . .

Suffering like the suffering he had to endure . . .

Why should they - rebels, scum - live when she had died? Why should they be able to hold their children when he had never had the chance, his little Leia stolen by death before she could even take a breath? Why should they live in joyful contentment when his every happiness had been ripped away until only the darkness remained to claim him?

No, if he could not, they could not either.

They thought this was pain?

It was not even comparable. At least they would die together, instead of galaxies apart; at least they would murmur to the last the love that they knew, instead of holding only the agony of a shattering never reconciled; at least they would hold each other in their final breaths, instead of being left with only the tormented face of a loved one, and the knowledge that they had caused their death . . .

The darkness closed in, warning him of the failure and weakness in his heart, and he accepted it gladly, his aching heart hardening and mind turning to steel.

There was no point in thinking about her anymore. She was gone; dead, and nothing could change that. No, he must stop wasting time wallowing in misery and focus on directing his efforts towards the good of the galaxy. These were traitors, disturbing peace and order. Traitors needed to be dealt with accordingly.

They deserved it.

Traitorous scum did not deserve life when angels received death.

Kriff.

He stopped in his tracks, cursing himself.

He had done so well keeping the thoughts at bay; for three years, all memories of her had been locked away, the darkness taking control and dominating every part of him. He had welcomed it, seeped in it, emerging himself so deep in it that he did not even have to think about it any longer- he was a machine, the ruthless executioner of the Empire, capable of neither sympathy nor mercy.

Yet Tatooine had reawakened his senses, the blazing sun bleaching him to his very core, where the man struggled within. He felt raw, exposed- and through the weakness he felt her presence among the familiar sands, though it was no more . . . and what was left of his heart yearned for what he knew was not possible. The beast roared furiously, keeping the man at bay; but for the first time since that day his presence was known, struggling to reclaim control- a pitiful fight, but one nonetheless. And it enraged him, that all his efforts had been in vain, that he was still there to torment him . . .

"Please!" a woman screamed, grabbing at his cloak with claw-like hands, tears streaking her face in agony. "Please, Lord Vader, my child! My child is innoc-"

One disdainful look, and she was upon the floor in an instant, gagging as air was sucked mercilessly from her throat. Her eyes were wide, pleading, but Vader did not release his grasp on her throat, his eyes glowing yellow in his rage and fingers tightening ruthlessly.

"You should have thought of that," Vader growled, "before causing trouble in your little rebellion."

"M-My baby . . . " she choked.

"Let's hope your little friends learn from your mistakes and don't follow in your footsteps," he hissed. Impatient, Vader flicked his hand- a snap and she was dead, her eyes glazed and limp hands still wrapped around a little bundle.

He lifted the bundle in the air, revealing its contents.

It was a baby, screaming noisily, tears streaming down its pudgy cheeks. Vader's annoyance rose, and he reached forward-

"No!"

A man crawled towards him, throwing himself in front of the wailing child, desperation marking every line of his face.

"Please," the man gasped, his eyes darting fearfully to the baby. "T-The Jedi. I recognized him, at the market a few months ago. Obi-Wan Kenobi. I-I don't know where he is, though-"

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The man who had been his brother, the closest thing he had to a father . . . and the man who had been the cause for all his grief, who had destroyed all his plans for a galaxy where he ruled with his angel by his side . . . who had stolen her from him, who had betrayed him and left him for dead . . .

The name sent mixed emotions through Vader. Anger, bitterness, hurt, and another, even less welcome feeling . . .

But he cut it off. Well. This was an interesting development.

"Thank you for the confession," he said silkily, "But unfortunately, you're still a rebel . . . and need to be dealt with."

The man's eyes widened, but before he could speak Vader's lightsaber was buzzing to life and he was still, his mouth gaping with words unsaid and his eyes rolled back in his head. Vader clipped the weapon back on his belt, surveying the damage with smugness. Bodies littered the ground, smoke rising from the wreckage of damaged huts and wagons headed for Mos Espa. He picked his way through the surrounding debris, ignoring the frightened stares of onlookers. Well. This would hopefully keep such rebellions from occurring again.

The silence was almost deafening.

A cry pierced the quiet air, breaking Vader's satisfaction and causing his annoyance to roll back in waves. It was the baby, still screaming for its mother, its tiny arms flailing about it its distress. He strode forward, disgusted, lifting the bundle from the ground once more-

"Dada?"

He felt a tugging on the back of his cloak and he whirled, enraged at the audacity of such a child.

All sense of fury vanished, replaced by a bewilderment and kind of familiarity that had him riveted to the spot, unable to speak. It was a child, yes- but with a quiet courage and fearlessness he had rarely encountered in any adult. She did not wail; did not scream; did not back away, even now faced with the full extent of his menace. Her fingers did not release their hold on his cloak, merely tightening their grip at the fearsome look he gave her. She gazed up at him, her big brown eyes full of innocent curiosity- but those eyes that stared up at him were not those of a child, bright with an unusual understanding and intelligence that none her age could possess.

Her eyes . . . so very distinctive that they could not be mistaken, especially by him . . .

They were . . .

Padme's eyes . . .

"Leia Amidala Skywalker! Come here this instant!"

Pretty please drop me a review?