DISCLAIMER: I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in.
Author's Note: I would just like to say three things before you get on to the chapter. 1) God, Padme goes unconscious a lot, what a babe. 2) Thank you all for the feedback TTM has gotten. It gives me confidence for the upcoming chapters I'm writing for you all and I thank you. 3) I'd like to give a little shoutout to five individuals I've seen in the reviews since the first chapter. Jedimasterroyal - First review HAY. You're welcome for not being a one shot. Annnd.. Anakin: "I'm doing this for you. To protect you." Padme: "Cool motive. Still murder." Kate Skywalker - Thank you for loving my characterisation and inner turmoil skills. Sometimes I like to channel that Anakin angst aka me during every second of my life. You angel. x StarWarsFan1138 - I always look forward to your reviews; they're just so vibrant! I love you. x sw1fan - Thank you for the constant feedback, A. Hoping those chills keep multiplying, nugget! Lord Lelouch - Fucking Obi-Wan, man, I agree on that. Love seeing your in depth analysis on the chapters, glad to see your having fun reading and the process of thoughts your mind goes through. angie - Gah, really happy to see your eagerness every update, nugget. It's so cute and it always makes me smile. x
"Padmé, Padmé!"
His panicked words made her stir and he could sense the resolve of consciousness return to her exhausted form. The once broad shoulders curled in as the attached body made of disciplined strength visibly relaxed, though it was still tense. Despite Padmé being awake, her eyes remained closed. The only signifying action that gave away that she was even the slightest bit attentive was the way she was clutching onto the lowest part of her curved belly.
"It's time to wake up, Padmé," Anakin coaxed, blue eyes inspecting the damage done to her shoulder. A scar would grace the now charred skin, but no internal damage was inflicted much to his relief - which was scarce at this point.
He took her in, allowing her defeated form to latch on to every midichlorian in his body. It ignited both the light and the dark sides of the Force in him; luminescent skies enlightening the molten rivers below. The darker side of Anakin, the one that was deteriorating at a slow and gradual pace from his body, found this pale, stricken, and unconscious part of Padmé to be absolutely enticing. It made him love her even more. However, the part of Anakin lambent with the light side of the Force rang panic. It shined down on the necessity to protect her; to bring her back into balance and to inflict justice on every single thing that had put her in the state she was in. That had put her and their child in that state.
Ignoring the chaos ensuing behind him, Anakin pressed his hand, of muscle, ligament and bone onto the hardness concealing his unborn child.
The first time he had felt the baby kick was more unexpected than any moment of his life, and he was a man weathered by perilous battle after perilous battle. Anakin had been awoken again, the nightmare of Padmé's death deterring all ounces of sanity he had been able to muster over the years of having her in his life building it up. Sweat had already presented itself in a thick sheen over his body and his hand was shaking - his metal hand whirring silently with the impulses to quake, but not enough to actually emit to asking fully. Blue eyes veered out into the darkness of the bedroom. Only a soft glow pressed out into the darkness, the only light in the room coming from the artificial Coruscant nightlife behind the dimmers in which he tried his best to avert his attention to without prevail. The nightmare was still clawing at him, at every single pore as the beast tried to root itself externally as it already had internally.
With the Force guiding him subconsciously, Anakin found his nude body hovering over Padmé's. His left hand placed oh so delicately onto the soft skin of her torso and the already bulbous stomach she was curled into. Fingertips traced deftly over the mound, feeling the bumps of her flesh rise in his wake. Then Anakin had placed the entirety of his hand as lightly, yet as firmly, onto the lower part of her belly so that he could feel as though he were helping to take the strain that he had inflicted into her.
Such doubt and regret at allowing their careless behaviour to come to this - a baby that would exploit their love in the best, while also the worst, of ways. How much he already loved their child, knowing that it was both of them that had created it. The baby was her essence entwined with his and Anakin knew with every ounce of him that it would hold the strength of her love with the ferocity of his. With her beauty, and grace, but nothing of his, he hoped. He didn't want his child to hold the turmoil he held. The impatience, the confusion and the regrets. Never would he want that.
Then he felt it.
It was a soft nudge at first, as if the unborn infant were testing the area it had just impacted. Even Anakin wasn't sure if he had felt the baby or if Padmé had simply moved in her sleep. But it was the second kick the exploded Anakin into a beaming concoction of mesmerisation and pride. Both hands took hold of her belly, despite his droidian hand being incapable of touch and his mind running on pure impulse. Anakin saw with brilliance now, the glowing light of the city being enough for him. He didn't even need it, though, because he was guided with the way of the Force. The life inside of her, it was strong with it. Very strong. It was exuberant, and it was his. It was theirs. Their baby.
Padmé hadn't woken, surprisingly, to his sudden behaviour. The moment had been entirely his to cherish and he would never reveal such a memory to anyone solely because it was only his to keep. With his wife, Anakin always felt tethered to her in a sense that his destiny had been entwined with hers. Whatever lives they were to live had been altered dramatically when they guided the parts of them willing to be led - and the fibres that were well forced - all to be woven into a single, solitary destiny that was joined by love. The purest of loves - if it could be diminished to such a title - and now, it had created the purest love - again, if it could even be called that. To Anakin, what was between him and Padmé couldn't be defined by something so minuscule as the word love. It was the size of a universe and stronger than every organism in it. Their child was more grand than all of existence. Their child was their destinies as one.
And every night, every time he woke to its mother's fatal end that played whenever he closed his eyes, Anakin would connect himself with the purity of his own and whisper to it, promise to it, that nothing would ever happen to either of them. The promise made and only strengthening by the passing days.
Leia always kicked when she sensed his touch, but in that moment, Anakin felt nothing. He knew it was a girl because he simply knew. Leia was the name he had given her, had constantly spoken in his sleep and would whisper to Padmé. Leia with brown, wide eyes and hair that could be woven into glorious creations like her mother; and, oh, the fire she would have. But now, there wasn't even the slightest of putters, not even a forceful punch that made him fear more for Padmé's internal well being than anything else - always apologising for the baby inheriting his strength - but there was nothing.
"Padmé, get up. We have to go," Anakin said hastily. Whatever Force source he normally felt wasn't as strong as it usually was and it continued to add onto the dread already building in him like static. A groan was given in reply, but it was faint. "Padmé, please!"
Padmé opened her eyes, but the vibrancy was gone as if her brown hues had the soul drained from them. They were dying eyes. Utter exhaustion filled her features and Anakin took back every thought about finding her in such a state, seeing her even more beautiful than she had ever been because it was all a lie. The moral side of his brain, the part conditioned by the Jedi, told him that it was the Dark Side of the Force bringing out that side of him. But Anakin couldn't find the need to help it be felt. It filled him with fear, with hate. Those were emotions that he couldn't simply brush aside. It only continued to spark the burning ashes to ignite and the volcano to erupt at the flashbacks of his nightmare - her death.
No, he thought to himself. Instructed himself. I have the power to save her.
The disruption in the Force behind him caused Anakin to whip backwards, releasing the blue plasma of his saber and igniting the crystals inside to elongate the light. Within seconds, he had retracted his hand from its placement on Padmé, had extended his crouched legs to stand, and had deflected thirteen shots thrown his way and successfully took out two clones. Anakin's whole body hummed to the tune of his blue-hot blade; becoming one with his weapon - with his Force.
Another stream of troopers saw his advancements and he moved with his instrument to orchestrate a fluid consonance on killing every single one of them. He was quicker than they were, sharper than every single one of their movements. The restrictions of the dragon within were incinerated, allowing the beast to come alive once more and burn everything in its path. It's wings took control of his arms and the fire ignited every optic nerve and retinal artery to see everything, to sense it all. Anakin was the most alive he had ever been in his life as the fury raged through him. Even the mechanical fingers tightened until the grip of his lightsaber creaked in protest, but he did not disengage. His gaze did fall down to it though, feeling the pulsating beat of the instrument and wanting to see it for himself. And he froze.
Gold eyes stared mildly at the dark residue, the sight whirling through Anakin's mind making no sense to him but he looked back to Padmé nevertheless. She had fallen over, both hands still cupping her belly but had lost the strength of their hold. He used the Force to push back the remaining troopers before rushing to her side, cradling her fragile head with his adrenaline shaking hands, both human and mechanical.
Padmé flinched at the quaking hold but could not summon the strength to plead it's halting. Instead, she was preparing for the next round of her internal torment which she felt as it shot icicles into her veins. Before it happened though, she fluttered her eyes open, hoping to use Anakin has a means of strength - the power emanating from him more extraordinary than ever before. But tears came as instantaneously as her next contraction.
Instead of the light of love in his eyes, she saw only the reflections of his amber hatred.
There may still be good in Anakin, but in that moment, Padmé felt as though he were lost. She felt as though she had lost, too. But what she didn't know was that her thoughts were tainted; influenced by the very darkness that was casting its shadow out into her vulnerable mind without even intending to.
All she could feel was pain. Utter agony branching its way upwards and no matter how many sharp inhales she took or the attempts of clearing the fogginess of her mind to count and calm herself as the Emdee had taught her, none of it mattered when there was only the feral yellow staring back at her. Gasps turned to sobs and hope turned to heartache. The spasms subsided, as did her consciousness, but before slipping into the fitful darkness once more, Padmé took hold of Anakin's arm, her breathing coming out jaggedly and her voice barely higher than a whisper.
"S… Stay… Stay."
It had taken her several tries and even by the final enunciation of the word, it was still impossible for nearly anyone to decipher - but Anakin wasn't just anyone. The word alone brought a new form of agony, one of his heart filled with despair and complete perplexity into his already overflowing system. A convulsion of unendurable pain passed over his body, tears burning his eyes and fingers prickling with invisible needles. Distant concussions bellowed down the archways but it did nothing to draw the man away from the hand that had gone limp while reaching out to him. Just as his lightsaber was, and just as his own gloved hand was, the dark residue now covered the majority of the small, delicate hand. Blood was on Padmé's hand, the very one that had been holding the area in which his Leia was to be safe in but no longer was.
And oh, how the dragon roared.
The gradual inclination from his low moan to vehement howls was quick.
"This is Coruscant, Annie, not Tatooine. Women don't die in childbirth on Coruscant—not even the twilighters in the downlevels..."
But this wasn't Coruscant anymore. This was to be his domain - his empire. The Legion was to be his to continue leading, to be his fist that would reinstate his new laws; the power that was now instilled in him as Darth Vader. That was given to him by Chancellor Palpatine. Yet, the Chancellor had turned his troops against him. The Chancellor had the power to save Padmé, but was now turning his power against them both. The very person that had told him he need not hide from him; that he could show his true thoughts and soul and not the one conditioned by the Jedi way. Palpatine was the very man who had told him to let go and he had - and now he had fallen, plummeted into the very darkness he had sworn to never fall completely into for Anakin knew it was already in him. It always had been no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, it was always there. And he had allowed someone to take him right to the icy top of it and plant him with the idea that he ruled it. And now his kingdom was crumpling.
In the far off reaches of the galaxy, Anakin could feel the torment of others in the Force. One by one, impact after impact, the Jedi fell. Order Sixty-Six was active. But he wasn't a Jedi, he shouldn't be delving into that sight of the Force. So when he reached out to the Sith, to the glacial winds that awoke his very soul, Anakin wasn't met by the new, yet entirely familiar, sensation but rather the immediate awareness of the piercing chill the place gave him. He did not belong with the light or the dark. He did not belong to anything.
They were all against him.
The tall, slim but broad-shouldered man burst into a fury like no other. Each trooper that approached the darkness was no match for the Force-wielder. His strength was too much for even himself, though no one knew - not even Anakin. The fountain of the blue-white plasma burned into chests, swiping them halfway. Clones scrambled over the severed arms, legs, and various other body parts of their fallen brethren only to meet the same fate at the hands of the same person. Cries for backup were heard but never finished as a combination of Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader joined in Force to take them down with his lightsaber. The power of the Jedi and the fury of the Sith.
Vader stood above a soldier with both of his arms missing, shivering in pain with a malicious smile on the man standing over him. He fed half of his saber into the hollow between the trooper's collarbone then swiped upwards to take out the clone beside him, helmet clad head falling loudly to the floor. Another swift flip of his body brought the blade down on another unfortunate and the flick of his wrist swooped the plasma and slashed it through the white armor that held no resolve against the lightning crystal fueling the lightsaber. The bodies piled, the darkness overwhelming Vader's mind with joy at his defeated enemies and tears springing from the pain Anakin felt at the sight of his fallen legion.
The Sith had come to the Jedi Temple, but it was fighting alongside the Jedi. But to Anakin, it was his own revenge upon them all. How dare they turn against him. How dare they defile his power. How dare they attempt to assassinate the only man that cared enough to let his true self soar only for that man to turn against him. How dare they kill his friends. How dare they hurt Pa-
"Padmé."
His lips peeled away from his teeth as the frenzy within burst outwards and pushed any approaching reinforcements to fly backwards. The corpses on the ground made no hindrance on Anakin as he stepped on them without remorse to get back to his beloved. Again he had been drawn into the necessity to fulfill his vengeance on the others and forgetting what was most important to him. Why are you doing this to me! he shouted at the dragon laughing at him.
He had lost so much already, he wasn't going to lose her, too. He would not lose her and he would not let anyone - Jedi, clone, Sith, droid - take her from him.
She was sobbing. Her emotional control all but shattered as her whole body shook and not even Anakin's strong arms could halt their shaking. But, oh, how Padmé was grateful that he had returned. This time, she kept her eyes closed, allowing the tears that felt as though they would never stop to continue their onslaught as she fought her own battle of internal demise.
The intensity of his wrath stunned her, leaving her mind walking out of the haze it had been in from exhaustion and grief to stand in awe at what her husband was capable of. For in that moment, though the feral nature of the Dark Side was obviously present, Padmé saw as he fought with such grace, with such lightness that all she could do was hold onto the determination Anakin always held and hope that it would guide him to do what was right. Not what the Force or the Jedi wanted - or whatever else he felt he had to obey - it was what felt right in him that she hoped for him to follow.
Weak hands had tried to caress the extension of her stomach that held their baby inside, proving to be a task she couldn't even handle along with trying to muster herself into shelter. Padmé knew something was terribly wrong, both with herself and her unborn child, and she didn't need her bloodstained hands to tell her so. It was always a necessity to be strong no matter how weathered she felt inside and now, there was no resolve. She was now the most vulnerable she had ever been.
New tears started, but they didn't matter then. She knew she'd never have enough tears to signify the torment she was in. Instead, Padmé grabbed on, with what little strength she had left, to Anakin's sweat sheened face.
"Ani… S- Something… 's… Wrong," she said in a voice strained by fear.
Eyes that looked like sunflowers bursting through a clear sky deliberated the crumpled sight of the brave senator before him. Always so passionate, brave and strong, it was now that Padmé truly looked as so many believed her to be - vulnerable. But Anakin knew better and quickly, he smiled, shining his teeth at her in a genuine display of the playful nature she was so well acquainted with in an attempt to keep her sedated.
"Obviously. You're missing out on all the fun," Anakin said, his tone lacking the usual snark he'd put into his retorts.
A halfhearted attempt at a laugh was given in reply, quickly transitioning into a hiss as another contraction compressed her will to stay sane and the baby's necessity to come into the world.
"SHAAK TI!" Anakin bellowed, weaving his hand of durosteel to wrap behind Padmé's back and using his extra droidian strength in the solitary instrument attached to him to lift her.
Though his shout was surely unable to even make a dent in the battle cries of both clone troopers and Jedi alike, the cogency of his Force could easily exude its signal to every Jedi in the Force. Even the baby inside of her, incapable of even understanding what the usage of the Force could mean gave a little jolt in return to its father's cry.
Anakin stayed where he was, holding Padmé behind the pillar with their bodies facing the Coruscant night. With all of its grime and all of its secrets; the Jedi Temple belonged to the Coruscant night. No one knew of what was occurring nor would anyone act upon it to save themselves from the carnage within. Only what continued to pursue in the candescent lighting before the Temple would go on.
Cries that the Legion had pushed through to the interior of the Temple were heard in a distant echo. Somewhere in his mind, Anakin was put on high alert, but another part of him felt satisfaction. It wasn't until the lean, tall body of the Togrutan appeared, deflecting the blasterfire she brought with her did the man bring himself out of the mind tainted with another shadow. Deeper, darker, formless and impenetrable, but with a pool of light that if he set one touch of his skin upon it, it would cleanse him.
"Anakin," red lips spoke breathlessly yet calmly - a trait only Master Ti could achieve. With one quick look at Padmé, though, concern flooded the Jedi's face. She did not need to ask, nor was she going to check the nature of the Force inside her fellow Knight. The well being of the Senator was what mattered. "Quick, inside to the Halls of Healing."
The dark clad man did not answer, choosing to focus his full attention on swooping his wife up into his arms where he held her so close to his chest that he could feel the rapid flurry of her heart beat against him. Palms were faced outwards, Force bursting any trooper he could cast the energy at to clear the pathway to the front doors. From behind, Anakin sensed a squad of soldiers approaching and aiming to fire and quickly spiraled his footsteps to allow the Master Jedi to deflect the shots. In an array of swift movements and gracious arc formation to her own blue-white blade, the enemy was down.
Padmé wasn't heavy in the slightest, though by the appearance of Anakin, one would think she was. However, the overexertion apparent on his face was not from the weight of his wife or the quick movements needed to keep the three of them from harm's way; no. It was the restraint he was using to not take out the Master Jedi guiding him through the bloodshed. It could be so simple, the dragon within hissed, using its venomous breath to intoxicate his mind.
The soft hand placed on his chest brought Anakin from the enticing sneers from the beast. Brown eyes stared up at him, but they weren't looking at him. Instead, they stared blankly into space, with galaxies made of fear and webbed with planets of agony.
"Padmé, turn your attention to me," he instructed, ducking the shot of a plasma beam and raising himself. They were no more than five meters from the door. "Turn to me, Padmé. I won't let anything happen to you, nothing, okay?"
There was no reply as her body went limp, her hand falling onto the curve of her belly and the anguish already settling into his actions. With the summoning of the Force, Anakin was at the entrance of the Jedi Temple before Master Ti could arrive but made it towards the Jedi Medical Centre.
"Anakin, I shall take her. We need you fi-"
"I am not leaving her!" he roared; the wrath of Vader in his voice with the pleading blue eyes and stature of Anakin.
"Her safety will be guaranteed if the Temple is not infiltrated. That is an order, Anakin Skywalker," she stated. Her tone was clipped, precise and soft all at the same time. "Hand her to me and keep your ground, young Knight. She will be in great care."
His jaw clenched and the Jedi Master felt the Dark Side of the Force immensely in the Jedi Knight. Immediately then, Shaak Ti knew that it was Anakin Skywalker that had set the currents of the Force to be so unbalanced earlier. Yet now, as he looked down at the Senator of Naboo with such tenderness - and pain - the understanding of his grief was felt in her own soul.
"You have my word."
A sob would have broken through, if he didn't have the strength to control himself. Instead, Anakin groaned and kissed Padmé's forehead, filling his lips with the very promise to keep her safe before placing her unconscious body into the arms of the tall Master, turning around immediately to defend the retreating figures as Shaak Ti made haste to get the suffering Senator to help and doing her best to ignore the display of affection from the young Jedi Knight.
Nothing in his whole life would ever give him the strength to let Padmé go than in that moment. But it was now clear to whose side Anakin fought for and it was the side that would keep his lover safe for she was his side, his destiny.
How he could allow himself to be deluded into another's, Anakin didn't know. He simply allowed the confusion to burrow into his muscles as he began his own massacre on those against him.
