Chapter 11
A/N: There is some mild content in this chapter—please note the rating of this fic.
Palpatine's face whitened, the life from his very body disappearing. His crippled face was just a mere dead body now…
Gasping for air, Anakin disignited the lightsaber, watching the red bar of light disignited. "It was the sith way, my master," he retorted sarcastically, turning to go, never to see that man ever again.
Oh yes, the HoloNet will do an entire spread story on the funeral of the emperor, but Bail Organa will take over, arranging the empire back into a stable republic with democratic rules—it would work again, no emergency powers will be given again. And Anakin was happy.
He didn't remember walking out, throwing the red guards against the floor, making sure they were dead and would never have any memory of Anakin's entrance until sometime during their afterlife in one of the nine hells.
He didn't recall run throughout the hallways, pushing past people, wanting to get to Luke as fast as he could. He didn't seem to care that people were staring at him, looking upon the shadowed face of the infamous dark lord; he wanted to get to his son—Luke…
He pushed open the door to his office, finding Luke on the floor, looking at a hologram, which the boy quickly turned off, and stuffed it into his shirt. He didn't have time for questions.
When Anakin pulled his son up off the carpeted floor by his wrist, Luke's lips were moving but he couldn't hear a word the boy was protesting—
"Father," said calmly, shoving his father's grasp off his wrist, cutting free, "Why—why are we running?" Anakin had heard this bit—he didn't ignore it when Luke said it, and turned around to face him.
Luke's eyes were confused. "We—we have to get to Naboo," Anakin said, calming down a bit, moving Luke away from the crowd and into an empty office off the hallway. He pushed Luke into a chair. The boy fell lifelessly into the low seat, watching his fathers every move.
Anakin closed the door behind him and paced. He wanted to apologize to Luke for acting so distraught, but he couldn't find it in himself to apologize. Luke looked so innocent sitting there; he had no idea what was going to become of them once the allies of the empire found out that Vader had killed his own master.
"Why?"
He cringed. Such an innocent statement—why—what do I tell him? He must already know, by now, he thought. "Erm—the emperor is," he paused, breathing in, "dead."
"Is that why we're running away?"
Anakin nodded. "Away from those loyal to the emperor—people who support his dealings," he told his son honestly.
Luke stifled a laugh, "Not many of those."
He couldn't help but smile at his son's childish wit. "You'd be surprised," he said with a smile. He thought about those who had been loyal to him, but at the same time, feared for his doing, fear that he—
That's when his world went black…
Padmé sat on the deck chair outside of her lake home on Varykino. It was winter, and the trees rustled with the chilly breeze that made the day old snow fall off the branches. Clouds gathered and blocked the magnificent view of the stars, but she didn't care.
She leaned back, her back catching the coldness of the seat, and closed her eyes. She sat in serenity for many, many minutes, not caring what was going on the in the core right now.
"Milady, you have a visitor," came a voice that couldn't be mistaken—Dormé. Her trusty handmaiden, her best friend, but right now all she wanted to do was sit and dream before she retired for sleep.
Padmé grunted. "Whoever it is, send him away." She wasn't in the mood for guests right now. And how the hell did someone find her out here?
Dormé clucked her tongue. "Okay, but I believe you're making a terrible mistake."
There was a hint of joking in her handmaiden's voice, she had sensed it, but shrugged it off. At this moment, she wanted to think about the last time she had seen Anakin. Was it two months ago? It seemed longer than that, though…
Her muses were interrupted but footsteps on the steps coming up to the patio. She shivered a little, but didn't budge from her seat. She turned her head to face the intruder, knowing that it was probably Captain Typho or just Dormé again.
"Dormé was right, you did make a terrible mistake," came a voice she knew all too well.
"Anakin!" She shrieked, hopping excitingly up from her seat and wrapping her arms around her husband in a tight embrace. She pressed her lips to his for a minute or even more, and the world was perfect, suddenly. "I—I'm…"
Anakin stopped her words by another romantic kiss, somewhat of a corny gesture, but he didn't care in that time. "I have only two days off," he told her once they broke apart. "I knew you'd be here."
Padmé's lips formed a sly smile. "Now, how did you know that?"
"Your niece's lower school graduation," he replied, his smile gone, "Isn't that why you took time off?" His arms moved down to her small waist.
"Ah, so you read my senate request," she said, tracing his handsome features. His hair had gotten long in the past two months, and his chin was stubbly, but rugged enough to still be considered gorgeous. "Did you convince Obi-Wan that we—you needed some… time off?"
He bit his lip playfully. He paused, and then shook his head. "No, not exactly…"
She then realized why they only had two days—"Anakin Skywalker," she said sternly, slapping him on the shoulder, "You did not just run away again…!"
He frowned. "But I did, Mother," he retorted. "Master Obi-Wan will just think I went to meditate, like he usually does. He's awful oblivious about me and you, if you know what I mean."
She didn't make any move; she just studied him, making sure he wasn't lying. He probably was, but she honestly didn't care. She smiled, and her hands found his. She tugged his figure inside the house, pushing the door shut to keep the heat in after they had reached her room.
"Padmé, I—"
She shushed him, closing the drapes…
His eyes fluttered open, and Luke's blue eyes were staring right at him. That was when he realized he was lying on the soft plush carpeting, with Luke knelt down next to him. His eyebrows told him that Luke was worried.
"Father—?" Luke hit his cheek, hoping that he would wake up sometime soon. "Father!"
Anakin found his arms and pushed himself up. "Yeah, Luke," he said through a laugh, "I'm alive—and awake."
"Oh," Luke said, obviously embarrassed by the way he acted, now that he was awake. "What happened?"
He cleared his throat. "Um…I really don't know. I just—blacked out." He felt like his ears were plugged with cotton, and he heard Luke from a distance, like he needed to listen really closely to be able to hear him. "It was like—"
Luke stared at him with wide eyes.
"Ah, never mind," he knew Luke was just about to say something, about to question what he was going to say, so he interfered, changing the subject drastically, "Say we go now?"
Luke got up on his feet before Anakin could. "No, no. I want to know what happened in the Chancellor's office. I want to know!"
How can I refuse that? He mused, watching as his son threw an immature tantrum. He sighed. "I killed him," he said simply. He watched Luke flash him a look of—'well, duh'—and decided to elaborate. "The emperor—that damn man—spoke about the Rebel Alliance, and my anger…it rose…"
Luke's face was ghost white. He looked stricken. Anger is a path to the dark side…
"…But I contained it," he watched Luke's face regain its color. "My anger, I mean. And then I thought about you—about how… you saved me, Luke. And—and—he felt my thoughts; I guess I forgot he usually did that…"
"He… knows about me?"
"Knew," Anakin was quick to correct Luke. "He kept guessing—deep down, he knew. Padmé's child had survived," his eyes widened with the thought of him knowing about Padmé's secret pregnancy, all those years ago, and somehow… somehow Palpatine had known… "And then he tried you use you—against me…
"I couldn't take it," he pressed it palms to his temples. "I surged out at him—screamed, too. He knew I was going to kill him—he let me, even." He paused, his blue eyes gazing upon his son's. Luke was frightened; he could feel it in the force. "I… I shouldn't have put the burden on you with this." I've made it seem like it was Luke's fault…
Luke childishly curled up against his father's chest, willingly. He didn't think then—he just wanted someone to hold him, like Aunt Beru used to when he had a nightmare. This all seemed like a nightmare, now, to Luke—then, he thought about how during the Clone Wars… during the Clone Wars how frightful everything must have been.
He had only heard about the wars in text, and discussed it in Imperial run classes, so—he hadn't really thought about the three-year period in reality. But it had really happened. Oh, how scared his mother probably was! How scared she could have been—thinking that her husband might not return, ever…
"I—I'm sorry, father," he whined.
Anakin shushed him, not really knowing what to do now that his child had taken such a loving interest in him; he then realized he had no experience as a father. He slowly began to wrap his arms around Luke in a tight embrace, patting his back slowly. "Don't be," he said simply.
Luke, seemingly calm now, looked up at his father, his identical blue eyes wide, "What happens now?" He asked, his hands trembling. "I mean, I know what we flee to Naboo—but what about the empire? Does it die, like its leader?"
His son posed a good question. "I don't know, son," he said. "I don't know…"
A/N: Ah, agnst. Please review!