Anakin leaned back and drummed his fingers on the curving back-rest of the bench. Striped montrals were nowhere to be seen among the throng of beings milling about the Temple entrance, and more importantly, his stomach still rumbled.
Sparring with that snippy little padawan worked up an appetite to rival a Krayt Dragon, especially the way Ahsoka did it. His forearms were still numb from her saber crashing into his like it was coming out of hyperspace.
...Or had they just come back from a mission?
His fingers paused in their drumming, and he furrowed his brow. Silence resonated where memory should have been, and a strange whisper echoed through him. Like a cold hollow on the verge of breaking.
The crease of his brow deepened, and he slowly pushed the whisper away, shaking his head as if waking from an unwanted dream. Can't think on an empty stomach, I guess...
That's all it was.
Towering spires stretched beyond the platform the bench rested on, glittering like mirages that stabbed the sky. Tatooine may boast two suns, but Coruscant on a day like this was like being surrounded by millions of diamonds, each fighting to shine brighter than the others.
He tilted his head back and breathed, the light warming his face. This was what he needed. Why did he never just stop for a moment and rest like this? Even the fastest pod engine would burn out if you never let off the throttle every once in a while.
He huffed, lips curling. Oh the smug look on Obi-Wan's face if he ever heard him voice a thought like that.
The hollow returned. Obi-Wan...
"Sorry it took so long, Master." Ahsoka plopped down next to him. "You wouldn't believe the line for grilled nerf-on-a-stick." She held out a stick for him, a drip of grease sliding down the thin wood.
He returned to himself with a blink, and pushed away the whisper more forcefully than before. Ahsoka still held out the stick for him.
He raised an eyebrow at the dripping meat, but wrapped his fingers around the slippery mess. His gloves needed to be washed anyway.
She tore into her nerf, lips smacking as she chewed, and he fought a smile. "Hungry, huh?"
She nodded wordlessly and ran the back of her hand across the drips of grease on her chin, not looking away from her meal.
He lost the tug-of-war with his cheeks, and shook his head, biting into his own nerf as the grease soaked into his gloves. Carnivorous padawans kept meals interesting, at least.
In the sky above, ships of silver and gold and every color imaginable glimmered like stars in the daylight as they passed overhead, the wash of their thrusters a distant rumble.
"I bet you wish you were on one of them," Ahsoka said. "Heading back to the front lines instead of sitting on a bench, dripping grease on yourself."
He frowned. Did she really think that? Sure, maybe he was a little hard-driving, but that didn't mean he just counted down the minutes until the next battle. The whip taught better than anything to treasure the quiet times, and hold in your heart those you love.
The hollow grew. Padme...
Nerf sticks hung forgotten in their hands, and her crystal blue eyes searched his.
They should know how much he cared for them. Needed to know.
His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and he squeezed. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here, Ahsoka."
She smiled, but sadness lurked behind her eyes. "We had a lot of good times, didn't we, Master?"
He tilted his head. "What do you mean, had good times? There's still plenty more to be had before you get knighted and have to deal with a snippy little padawan of your own." He smacked her shoulder with the back of his hand.
The skin around her eyes crinkled, and she swallowed. "I really miss you, Master."
Weight sunk within him like a stone trying to drag him down into the depths, and he looked away. "What are you talking about, Snips?" He laughed. "I'm right here." And I always will be.
"I know, Master." Her voice was soft. Regretful. "But you need to wake up, now."
The hollow surged within him, and he clamped his fingers around the stick in his hand, gloves creaking. He was awake. This was reality. This was his reality. Not the hollow. Not the whisper. "Wake up? What are you talking about? You're not making any sense, Ahsoka."
"Anakin..."
"Stop it, Ahsoka." He was here. She was here.
"Skyguy!"
The cold hollow seemed to crystalize within him like a jagged shard. And then all at once, burst as if shattered by her voice. Memory flooded into the silence he had clung to so desperately. Images flashed before him, of smoke, of fire, of those eyes staring up at him. Forever staring up at him. And he pinched his own eyes shut.
"Please," he whispered. There was nothing left but this. There couldn't be anything else but this.
He had made sure of that personally.
"Please, just let me have this." His fists curled. Let this be my reality.
Fingers the color of a Tatooine sunset curled around his forearm. "It will be okay, Skyguy."
"No." His voice was like wind through the crags. "It won't."
"It will. Trust me."
Trust. There was no such thing for him anymore. Only fear. Maybe fear was all he ever had.
Maybe that was his problem.
"It's not too late to change that, Anakin." Her thumb brushed his arm. "Wake up, and face our enemy."
He lifted his head, meeting her eyes. Those eyes. And he furrowed his brow.
"The Emperor is waiting for you," she spoke softly.
A huff. "I don't care. I hate the Emperor."
She gave him a sad smile. "I know."
The shimmer of the city grew around them, the shards of light melding together into a blinding white haze that stretched toward them, and she squeezed his arm. "Don't forget me, Skyguy."
The light began to enveloped her, and his heart seized. No! He lunged toward her, grasping her hand still resting on his arm with all his strength. "Ahsoka, no! Don't leave me." Please.
Her eyes shimmered. "We'll see each other again, Anakin. I promise."
His knuckles turned white as her hand slid in his grip, and his brow quivered. "Ahsoka!"
The haze overtook them, washing out his vision as she slipped from his grasp, disappearing into the light.
Ahsoka...
The light dissipated, and he opened his eyes.
The interior of an imperial shuttle filtered in through lenses so dark red, they were almost black. Mechanical breathing echoed inside his helmet.
His prison.
The shuttle jolted under him. "We've arrived at the station, my lord."
He clenched his jaw, and rose from his seat as the ramp lowered, light from the hangar spilling into the dark cabin, illuminating his accursed reality.
The reality he created.
Sidious stood at the foot of the ramp, flanked by rows of white armor.
Anakin's brow quivered, and his fingers curled tight as he descended the ramp.
Liar.
Sidious peered at him from under the shadow of a hood. "I trust your mission was successful, lord Vader?"
Deceiver.
He reached behind his back, and pulled two lightsaber hilts from under his cloak. One standard size, the other a small shoto.
He held them in the palm of his gloved hand for Sidious to see.
Yellow eyes stared at him, not once glancing down at the sabers. A ghost of a smile haunted Sidious's face, and without a word, he turned and shuffled away, the hem of his black robes sliding over polished floors like a Krayt Dragon's tail.
Murderer.
His throat tightened, and his gaze fell to the sabers in his hand. The red lenses covering his eyes made the silver hilts appear burnt orange.
Like a Tatooine sunset.
His vision blurred, and he closed his fist around the hilts.
Trust me, Skyguy.
An artificially deep voice he didn't recognize as his own filled his ears. "I do trust you, Ahsoka."
Wake up, and face our enemy.
"I cannot face him alone."
The sabers grew heavier in his hand. Trust me.
Trust. The whip did not teach trust. Only fear.
Fear of the Master.
He thought he had escaped. He thought he had left the chains behind in the sands of Tatooine to be buried by time. But maybe he just traded one slave master for another.
He looked from the weapons of silver, to the retreating black form ahead of him, and an old, familiar flame sparked in his belly.
One that should have sparked long ago.
The mass of draping robes paused mid-stride, standing motionless for a moment before twisting around, yellow eyes narrowing.
His brow stopped quivering, and his jaw set as he took the small shoto into his off-hand, the cool metal soothing in his grasp. Fear had blinded him, but now he saw clearly. And for once in his life, he knew exactly what he was meant to do.
Emerald blades burst to life, bathing him in the glow of his padawan's memory, and Sidious's cracked lips pulled back, nose wrinkling. Will you join me in one last battle, Ahsoka?
Rifles clattered against armored shoulders, barrels leveling straight at his head. "Don't be foolish, lord Vader. You know you cannot defeat me alone."
The sabers hummed in his hands. Don't forget me, Skyguy.
The skin around his eyes crinkled, and he squeezed the hilts. Never.
The flame in his belly surged, and he marched forward as a hail of blaster shrieks erupted in the hangar, drowning out everything but the fire burning inside him.
Green blurs twirled and swept and sliced and stabbed, troopers falling like grains of sand in an hourglass as he devoured the distance between himself and Sidious.
Electricity crackled across ashen fingers. "You would throw your life away, lord Vader?"
Heat rose through his chest, fueling the pounding against his sternum. "I would reclaim it."
The arcs of lightning gathering at Sidious's fingertips grew to a small nova, his eyes glowing like lava. "You will serve me, or you will die."
Don't forget me, Skyguy.
Moisture dampened his cheeks as shards of electricity melded together into a blinding white haze that stretched toward him. "Never."
He lunged, and his world blurred. Blue arcs piercing the air. Pain lashing his body. A flash of green through black fabric. A gasp. An explosion of light.
Anakin...
Darkness.
OOO
One year later.
Drops of rain splashed against blaster-scorched stone, giving the Jedi Temple the appearance of a fire that had just been put out.
Not put out. Extinguished. Like a candle snuffed out by the sweep of a blade.
His blade.
Gloved fingers ran across the curving back-rest of a bench, the stone figure before him glistening as light filtered through cracks in the grey above.
It would be some time before Jedi once again walked the halls of the Temple. But when they did, all would know who was responsible for reigniting the flame.
"I thought I might find you here."
He flinched and spun around, two silver hilts clanking together on his belt.
An earth-brown cloak frayed by wind and time wrapped around the shoulders of a man he knew all too well. A few grey hairs streaked his blond whiskers, but the eyes were unmistakable.
As was the saber on his waist.
Anakin's lips parted. "Master..."
Obi-Wan huffed, whether in humor or disbelief, he didn't know. "Only you would still call me Master after all that's happened, Anakin." He peered at him. "Or is it Emperor, now?"
Mechanical breathing filled the space between them, and Anakin finally turned back to the statue. "For the time being," he said. "Reforming a galactic empire into a republic does not happen overnight."
"But apparently turning a republic into a galactic empire does."
If he was capable of sighing, he would have. "Have you come to lecture me, Obi-Wan?"
"I would have preferred not to come at all, Anakin."
His jaw clenched, and his cloak swirled around him as he faced Obi-Wan once more. "Why have you come?"
"Because a certain very persistent acquaintance of yours insisted it was time for the two of us to talk, and wouldn't give me a moment of rest about it."
His brow drew together. "I have no such acquaintances, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan looked past him toward the statue.
Droplets of water fell from the ends of stone lekku, splashing against two saber hilts identical to the ones now resting on his belt.
Ones that should have never been his.
His eyes widened. "You mean..."
Obi-Wan nodded.
He turned to the memory of Ahsoka once more, and he couldn't help the breath of laughter that escaped his throat, even as his chest tightened. A thousand years wouldn't be enough time to find a learner to compare with that snippy little padawan.
"She was a fine Jedi, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "You taught her well."
"No, Master." A twinge squeezed his heart as he looked into the eyes that would forever gaze out over the horizon, toward spires that stabbed the sky, and he swallowed.
"She taught me."
THE END