Oops. See, this is what happens when you rewrite the beginning of a story. You forget about things you had previously written into it. Okay, my bad, Darth has all his arms and legs. The wounds he received from his battle with Obi-wan didn't include his limbs, and the full extent of his injuries gets explained in a much later chapter.
It's only these first two posts I was rewriting, so everything else should flow together smoothly. And yes, there will be a bit of a change in the writing style now and then, because the beginning chapters were written years ago, and I can't be bothered the rewrite the whole thing. Right, moving on. After this, as there will be no rewriting, the posts will update with more regularity.
Rebirth of the Light: Chapter 2
For one long, terrifying moment, Vader thought she was going to scream.
But Padme drew one breath, then another, coming unglued from the shock that seemed to have frozen the entire room. And she smiled.
"Anakin!"
His heart constricted painfully, the sound of his name passing across her lips like the hot blade of a lightsaber piercing his chest. The very sight of her was enough to destroy him. Her very presence seemed to viciously tear Vader apart, only to piece him whole a moment later.
Then Padme reared back her head, and screamed.
That sickening desperation, muted by the sight of his wife, spiked in Vader and had him lunging for her. His lungs fought the respirator as he sucked in deep breaths; his feet seemed to be made of lead. Collapsing beside the bed, his lightsaber forgotten, Vader reached down and clasped his wife's tiny hand in his massive one.
"Padme," he moaned, not understanding what was happening but sharing his beloved's pain regardless. "Padme, my Angel."
"Anakin," she gasped, laying her head back on the sweat-drenched pillow, her hair tangling about her face. "I knew-knew you would-would come. Somehow…somehow I knew you would be here."
His labored breathing hitched as much as the respirator would allow it.
She had believed in him. Even after everything he had done, to her, to the galaxy they had both so desperately wanted to save, Padme had still believed her Anakin would come to her rescue.
He was no longer the man she had fallen in love with – and yet, Padme wanted him here.
The snap-hiss of a lightsaber cut through the precious moment, shattering the intensity of Vader's attention on his wife. She drew back, pressing down into the bed before releasing another shriek. Even in pain, Padme managed to glare at the man holding the lightsaber to her husband's neck.
"Put that thing away," she managed to gritted teeth.
"I'm afraid I cannot, Padme," the Jedi Master sounded weary, weighed down.
Vader, still kneeling beside the bed, turned slowly to face the tip of the glowing blade that hovered mere inches from his mask. The light of it all but blinded him, but beyond it, he could see the familiar figure of Kenobi – mentor, friend and traitor.
"You couldn't kill me the last time, Kenobi," he growled. But the hatred that had been there the last time their blades had crossed seemed to have disappeared. Time and reflection had weakened it. This man had been his brother in another life. The thought resisted his instinct to reach for his own weapon.
"A weakness on my part that you have suffered for." Obi-wan replied softly. He stared down the form before him, at the mask and the armor and wondered if there was anything of his friend left inside that monstrosity. It was partly his doing. He had been blind to Anakin's slow corruption, willfully ignorant of the increasing burdens placed upon his friend. And when it had come time to destroy what had been created, to cut down the young man he had raised, and loved, Obi-wan could not bring himself to do it.
And this was what had come of it.
"Obi-wan!" Padme ground out, and he could hear the plea in her voice. But he couldn't waver, not now. Not again. The last time it had cost Anakin – Vader – an easy escape into death. This time, with the last hope of the galaxy about to be born, it would cost so much more.
"I'm sorry, Padme. But that is not your husband." It couldn't be. It couldn't be. This couldn't be the Jedi's Chosen One, the man who had believed in justice and fought for what was good and right. Where was the moppy-headed child, the eager apprentice, the Jedi knight? Force, where had this Sith come from, this inexplicable hatred?
Obi-wan was a Jedi. And as a Jedi, even one of the last, it was still his duty to destroy the Sith. He would bring down his saber. He would kill this Dark creation before him. There was no other choice.
"I don't know how you found us." He offered as a farewell. His heart felt like it was breaking. "I wish you hadn't."
Obi-wan made to lower his saber, his entire body taunt with expectation of Vader somehow managing to bring his own blade up in defense.
Then a presence arrived at his side, and Kenobi froze.
"Can't you two discuss your ideological differences later? The senator is about to give birth here!"
The Jedi hesitated, looking away from the Sith for the first time to glance at the woman standing beside him. She was a former handmaiden of Padme's, and any other time, Kenobi would have been unsettled by the indifference Sabe seemed to have for the seriousness of the situation. But Obi-wan had to silently admit, glancing at the struggling form of the senator on the bed, she did have a point.
"Birth?"
Obi-wan's eyes darted back to his former friend at the sound of his distorted voice. Vader had not moved – if anything, he seemed frozen in place. Though he seemed intent on the Jedi, Vader's hand was still gripping his wife's. Kenobi felt his resolve waver, then collapse completely.
If he could not kill Anakin in the heat of battle, he could hardly kill him here, in the presence of his wife and soon-to-be-born children.
"Yes, Darth. Birth." Defeated, Obi-wan lowered his blade and turned away.
Freed from the immediate threat Kenobi's blade had posed, Vader swung around to stare at his wife. Birth? Birth?! The word seemed foreign, irrelevant. Padme could not be giving birth! That would have to mean…
The situation fell together in front of his eyes, the obvious hitting Vader so hard he thought it might throw him from the room. Of course she was giving birth – lying back on the bed, legs bent, the bulge of her stomach, the pain coursing through her at regular intervals. But how could this be? How could she be pregnant?!
The word filled Vader with terror, and awe. His wife was with child.
His child?
As if sensing the mad flurry of his thoughts, Padme breathed in the lulling of her pain and managed another smile. It was heartbreakingly beautiful, given the circumstances. "Ani, you're going to be a father."
Father.
He was going to be a father. Padme, the love of his life, his comfort and salvation, was about to give birth to their child. The gut-wrenching knowledge tore through him as nothing else could have. It was sweet, and ultimately destructive.
"What," he managed, realizing belatedly that fear and uncertainty was choking him, "what can I do?"
"Just don't leave me."
"I won't, Padme. I'm here, right here."
He gripped her hand as the convulsions came closer and closer together, till her crying drowned out the sound of his respirator and he had to draw upon the Force so as to ignore the pain of her clenching his hand. Padme screamed as her body struggled to force a part of itself out, and there was nothing he could do to help her. The entire room seemed to shriek with intensity. Vader could hear the other woman in the room offering calm reassurance, could feel Kenobi's tense and worried presence, and another, sitting quietly in the corner.
The Force wheeled around them, the very air alive with it.
"Hold on, Padme. Hold on," Vader whispered, offering up a part of himself to the powerful forces at work in the room. He would give anything, anything, if it meant she survived this.
And then, in the most shocking cry he had ever heard, a baby entered the world.
Padme gasped for air, fell back onto the bed, and wept. Just one more. Just one more time. Using her elbows, she propped herself up and looked over to where Sabe gently washed the newborn in a basin of water. When the infant was dry, though still crying, she brought it to Obi-wan and placed in it in his arms.
With little mirth, Kenobi looked down at the child, then to the woman who gazed worriedly at him from the bed. "Congratulations, Padme. This is your daughter."
"Leia!" Padme gasped and reached for her child. But Obi-wan didn't move.
"Wait, Padme. There is another that needs to enter this world first."
She nodded already feeling the pain beginning to build again. "Then let her father hold her."
Obi-wan hesitated, but only for a moment. There was little point in resisting. Vader seemed frozen to his spot on the floor, but the mask had swerved to stare up at the Jedi. No, not him. At the child in his arms.
With the greatest of care, he knelt. Little Leia still shrieked, her feeble legs kicking vainly in protest at the sudden cold, bright world she now found herself in. She was impossibly tiny, utterly fragile, and with a heavy heart, Kenobi passed her into the waiting arms of a Sith Lord.
Vader felt awkward holding the child. He had not expected any of this. He had not expected to be suddenly given so wondrous a burden as a child, had not expected to be handed a tiny, squealing, living creature. This was life. What was he supposed to do with it? Suddenly fearful of being clumsy, dropping the child in his ignorance, Vader shifted her weight carefully.
"Here," Kenobi reached over and adjusted the child in his arms. "Hold her like this." He laid her little head in the crook of her father's arms, wrapping her blanket securely around her, already unwilling to pull away, feeling already as though they had bonded.
"Obi-wan, I need you over here."
Sabe's voice pulled him back, the sensations of Padme's labor pains dragging him back to his duty.
Vader was left with the child.
He stared down in wonder.
Large, innocent brown eyes, so trusting, opened slowly and looked up at the world around her. They gazed about, blinking in the light, seeking. Her wailing had stopped the minute he had taken hold of her, and now his daughter turned her gaze on him. His wife's eyes looked back at him and he smiled, momentarily.
She could not see his face, could not see him smile. All she saw, Vader realized, was the mask. The damned mask that separated him from her little form, from her sweet baby scent. He cursed the mask, the armor, all of it. But this anger, this new wave of self-disgust, vanished immediately. Though this demonic image was the first his daughter saw in this world, Leia opened her mouth wide and gave a toothless smile.
She did not need eyes to see, she told him through the Force. She could feel that he was happy and loved her.
It was purely the most wonderful moment of his life.
"Leia."
The Sith gazed down at his daughter. Leia continued to gaze up at him, past the mask and the Darkness. This was his daughter. She was perfect. There was no other word to describe her. And she was his. She was a part of him, a being created through love. Could there ever be anything more wonderful than this?
"Vader?"
Lifting his head from the precious sight, Vader found his vision too hazy to see through. Small tears traced their way down his scarred cheeks. He searched through his blurry vision, and found Obi-wan. The Jedi Master reached out.
Vader immediately took a step back. No! Kenobi could not take his daughter away. His precious child! His Leia.
But then he looked down, following Obi-wan's gaze. In his former master's arms, snuggled down, calm and quiet despite the pain it had taken to bring him into this world, was another little bundle.
"This is your son. This is Luke. Do you want to hold him?"
He could not answer. What good were words, anyway? They could not tell of this terribly sweet ache, this bittersweet pain in his chest. It was something he had forgotten about. Something that he had been so sure was lost to him forever. Reaching out with his other arm, Vader took this second child, the twin of his Leia, into his arms and held him close.
A son. His son.
Luke.
The boy was so much like his mother. He didn't utter a single cry, merely looked up at his father with bright blue eyes, his eyes, and stared. There was no smile on this child's face. Only awe and wonder and love in that big blue gaze. And Vader stared back in return, unsure what to say or do.
This little being, so small and delicate, so perfect and wondrous. This was his son. His beautiful baby boy.
Father and son stared at one another in silence, as the daughter slept on in her father's arms. Their mother lay on the bed, regaining breath. Obi-wan stood by, watching.
The Jedi felt paralyzed by his conflicting emotions. A part of him stood in awe, seeing the formerly terrifying Sith so easily holding the babes, being so consciously gentle with them. Vader had held Padme's hand, had comforted her, had not tried to strike down his former master when threatened. That had to mean some part of Anakin still existed. Maybe Kenobi had been wrong all along. Maybe there weren't two separate halves of his friend, but rather a single individual who had been pushed so far he had broken under the pressure of destiny and the Darkside's influence. Maybe – just maybe – there was hope.
He wanted to believe that. But Obi-wan had to acknowledge to himself that that desire was based on his longing for Anakin to come back to them, his desperate need for reassurance that he had not failed his friend so thoroughly as this. The part of Obi-wan that had seen the slow corruption of Skywalker, had taken part in their duel on Mustafar, remained on guard against having his heart broken again.
What good was having hope in something that was unlikely to happen?
He wanted desperately to believe that this was the miracle they had all been waiting for, the promise that everything would eventually be all right. But Obi-wan had been hurt too many times. He would need something more before he was convinced.
Padme seemed to need no such reassurance.
"Anakin?"
The Sith turned to her, his expression unreadable behind the mask.
"Padme. Are you alright?"
"Yes, I-I'm going to be fine, Ani." She managed to laugh despite still being winded from the ordeal. But that spark of life had returned to her eyes, and Vader could feel her presence in the Force shining brightly. Eagerly, she reached toward the babies he held. "Please, let me hold one."
"If you're not feeling too weak." He passed little Leia into her arms, and mother and daughter greedily drank in each other's scent.
Husband and wife gazed at each other, and then down at the tiny life in their arms.
"You named them Luke and Leia?"
"Yes," Padme replied softly. "I know you didn't have a say. Please don't be mad at me."
Vader cringed. She was frightened of him. Well, he had given her every reason to be, hadn't he?
"They were named well."
He wanted to leave it at that. There was nothing more that he wanted other for than this moment to continue on forever. There was no galaxy, no Empire, no Force. Nothing outside this moment, holding his son in his arms, watching his wife and daughter, feeling their love and contentment. But Vader knew he couldn't ignore the reality that was about to come crashing down upon them. The fact that he had come here by inexplicable means, just in time to find Padme in childbirth, on a planet he had never heard of before, seemed irrelevant in the face of his greater concerns. Vader did not want to shatter the precious moment, but he knew he had to ask, had to know the truth.
"You weren't going to tell me about my children," he looked at Padme, feeling the Darkness coursing around him, but struggling to keep it at bay. He would not be angry with her. Not till he understood why. "Were you?"
She hesitated, staring at him with uncertainty glistening in her eyes. No doubt remembering the last time she had been with her husband, the nightmarish events that had been their farewell on Naboo months ago.
He had hurt her then, so caught up in his Darkness that he hadn't even sensed the life growing inside her. Inside, Vader cringed at the memory. He very well could have killed her, killed their unborn son and daughter. Would he have stopped, if she had told him?
Vader didn't know, and that scared him, more than her answer did.
"No," Padme admitted. "You had – you had changed, Anakin. You scared me, with your talk of ruling the galaxy, of overthrowing the Jedi. Obi-wan said – we agreed, it would be best, if you didn't know."
The Sith turned to where the Jedi Master stood, watching with a defensive edginess. Kenobi seemed to hesitate, before saying the last thing Vader had ever expected.
"I'm sorry."
Sensing the other's shock, Obi-wan pushed onward. This was his chance, maybe the only one he had ever had. Anakin had been unwilling to listen on Mustafar, the Darkness having corrupted him beyond recognition. But here, in this surreal moment, something was happening. Something was changing. He had to grab hold of it before it vanished.
"I have to keep them hidden, Anakin. Keep them safe. And if that meant hiding them from you, then I would have. But not to hurt you. Never, in any way, have I ever meant to hurt you." Obi-wan paused, fighting down the rise of emotions that threatened to choke him. He had to stay on topic, had to make Vader understand the consequences of his new allegiance to the Sith. "But you must try and understand. The Emperor would not allow them to live. They will be powerful in the Force, and simply by that token, that gift or curse of birth, they would be a threat to him."
After a moment, Vader nodded.
His master would have ordered the children slain. They were not old enough to be of use, and the argument that the twins could be raised as Sith would have been in vain. Palpatine would have seen through the ruse, and known Vader kept his children not as potential minions, but out of love.
And because he loved his son and daughter, he could not subject them to so dark a future as their father's.
That left Vader with few options. He could return to the fleet and complete his assigned mission, which now seemed vaguely absurd in comparison to the last few minutes. That would require a lot of duplicity on his part – lying to Sidious, potentially for years until his children were trained in the ways of the Force, capable of protecting themselves. And what would he do in that time? Fly back and forth, visiting his family in secret? Continuing to serve the Emperor, even as he clandestinely opposed him at heart?
No. He could not do it. Not now. Not after this. His self-hatred still fueled the Darkness burning inside him, but already he felt his previous convictions crumbling. Politics and ideologies seem trivial in comparison to the tiny forms of his twin children.
That left only a single option. It seemed inconceivable, and filled Vader with a great deal of fear and self-doubt.
But if he wanted his children to live, and if he wanted a chance at sharing in their lives, this was his only choice.
But he would need help.
Vader looked again to Obi-wan, and willed himself to let go, to be vulnerable in the presence of someone who only moments ago had been his enemy. But once upon a time, they had been closer than brothers. And when he had stumbled in the dark, Kenobi had been the one to protect that which Skywalker had held most dear. If there was anyone he could turn to now, it had to be Obi-wan.
"Thank you." It was not what he had been meaning to say, but it seemed to slip out of Vader without his consent. Kenobi's eyes widened, his posture radiating shock. Hesitantly, he took a step forward and knelt beside the bed. Gray eyes, wary but hopeful, bore into him.
"Anakin?"
His breathing became more labored at the sound of his old master using his name. Why did this hurt so much? He hadn't expected it to, hadn't expected it to be almost impossible to force words past a lump forming in his throat. This decision had been rational. And yet, the emotions that welled up in him could not be denied.
He wanted this. He wanted it. Not only for the sake of his children, but for himself.
The final acknowledgement of that was what ultimately broke him.
"Help me, Obi-wan," Anakin managed, suddenly wondering at the Darkness and the handful of years that separated them from their friendship. Wondering at himself and how far he had fallen. "I need your help, your guidance." The Jedi stared at him, uncomprehending. "I don't want to go back. I can't go back. Let me stay here, with Padme, with you and my children. Please, brother. Help me."
Beside him, Padme gasped. He wanted to turn to her, tell her he was sorry, beg for her forgiveness. Anakin wanted to promise he would never leave her, never hurt her again. But he could not turn his eyes away from Kenobi. It was the Jedi who would condemn or save him. If Obi-wan refused, if he turned Anakin away…
But his fear fell away at the unexpected sight of tears tracing down Kenobi's cheeks.
"Obi-wan?" Anakin heard himself say, caught completely off-guard. He reached up with his free hand, instinctively, to wipe the tears away. He caught himself at the last moment, surprised the older man had not jerked away.
Instead, Obi-wan leaned forward. He placed a hand on the padded shoulder of the Sith, in the same manner he had time and time again when giving reassurance to his friend. But this time, it was Obi-wan who needed the reassure, the comfort the other could offer. He wrapped his arms around his former apprentice, mindful of the child resting between them, and wept.
Anakin was stunned, but only for a moment. Through the Force, he could feel his friend's relief, his joy, and an almost paralyzing disbelief. The emotions mirrored his own so well that he laughed, before wrapping his free arm around his brother, pulling him close.
Everything would be alright now. Somehow, he knew it. Beside them, Padme cried softly, hugging her daughter to her. The children slept on, peacefully unaware of the significance of the moment.
From the corner of the room, where he had sat silently through the entire course of events, manipulating the Force to keep them all hidden from the searching eyes of the Darkside, Yoda hopped down off his stool. This was not at all what he had expected.
But, he had to admit, when dealing with Skywalkers, nothing ever was.
Caslia