Chapter One

If Evil Can Love, Then What Is Evil?

A thick, heavy fog hovered over Coruscant, the early morning sunlight gleaming ghostly and pale, not yet strong enough to cut through the clouds.
Padmé Amidala lay still and silent in her bedroom, the emptiness of the suite leaving her hollow inside, with a quiet so dense that it buzzed dully in her ears.
She had dismissed her handmaidens – much to their dismay – and requested that Captain Typho keep all security personnel on the lower level.
Her only company was her wayward emotions and her unborn children.
The twins were her secret heartache, and her solace in this silence that pierced her heart like a blade. Under the folds of Anakin's cloak, she caressed her stomach, receiving a kick in response.
They grew more active every day, and Padmé knew, felt it deep in her soul, that it would not be long until they staged their arrival.
And she wondered bleakly why Ani did not sense two tiny minds nestled inside her, even when he had laid his palm, so briefly, against them.
But Anakin did not seem to know himself right now, let alone sense anyone else.

She wanted to tell him so many times, especially after their easy, light-hearted banter over the baby's gender just the other day.
"He kicked me."
"He? What makes you think it's a boy?"
"My motherly intuition."
"Whoa! With a kick that strong it's got to be a girl."
It had almost burst out of her right then – a joyful acclamation that they were both right. But Ani became so moody and distant, criticizing the Jedi Order,
and then accusing her of sounding like a Separatist…
And the nightmares that hounded his every thought, waking or asleep.
No, the news would not be well received at all.
So she locked it in, hiding it in the dark recesses of her mind, and devoted herself to her work in the Senate while she struggled to keep Anakin with her – with them,
as he seemed to slip farther and farther away.
"I feel lost."
He looked to her as a guide, a counselor, and it both flattered and unnerved her.
As a Jedi, their Code and the Masters on the Council should serve as his compass, but he cared nothing for anything they could say to him.
Without her he would be lost.
"I can't lose you, Padmé."

He was two people, and it amazed her daily how he managed to keep from letting one persona spill over into another. She did catch flashes of the Jedi Knight, the Chosen One,
The Hero With No Fear. She could see it simmering in his too blue eyes, replacing the calm glass sea with tempest-tossed waves.
And she only had to wait, to watch him with all the love she possessed for this intense young man, her fierce vine tiger, and he would subdue as if she had reprimanded him.
The image of the warrior would fade, and all she would see was a fragile man with a boy's face, his very countenance pleading for her affection as she cradled his slowly mending heart in her hands.
He had lost so much in his short life.
It frightened her to think what he would become if she did die.
He had told her once that she was his soul, and a being without a soul is…nothing.
An empty shell.
But Padmé did not fear his dreams as he did. She was not weak. She was a strong, healthy woman and the medical droids had assured her that the twins were in excellent condition,
though there was a high probability that the labor would begin early.

An image jumped suddenly into her mind's eye, and she recoiled as though struck. She saw him, walking through the capital as it burned all around him.
A black cloak billowed around him like a shadow, and he seemed…larger, somehow. His boots smoldered in the heat, and smoke curled around his limbs, but he was unphased.
Then she saw the eyes.
They were the same blue, the blue of the lake that surrounded the villa on Naboo, but they were empty.
Hollow.
As glassy-eyed and dead as a corpse.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tears trickled from the corners of her eyes, seeping into the rough fabric of his cloak. She buried her face against the material, breathing in deeply his familiar scent,
and her body ached for his embrace.
She refused to believe what Obi-Wan had told her about him.
Even if it were true.
Anakin would never leave her.
And she could never leave him.
Anakin, her heart called into the silence, I need you.

It was like an intangible breeze swept into the room and brushed across her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She felt warmth, and was flooded with his presence, as if he had entered the room. The feeling cocooned her and she heard…
I'm coming.
The words knifed through the silence as if spoken aloud, like a whisper in her ear. Padmé's wide brown eyes snapped open, and she slowly raised her head from the mattress, glancing warily about
the darkened room. Shadows seemed to jump out at her, but she saw no one – she was alone. Yet Anakin's essence stayed with her, and she stared intently at the closed door, confident that at any second he would enter. Even the twins were oddly still, as they were whenever he was near.
Her braid slipped over a shoulder as she continued to study the room, and though a part of her knew it was completely impossible, that she was being utterly ridiculous,
she whispered hopefully, "Anakin?"
The feeling intensified, and in her mind's eye she could picture his bright, lopsided grin.
She sank back onto the bed, pillowing her head on her arm, and snuggled his cloak under her chin. Anakin had used Force sending on her before, but it had been nowhere near as strong and…
and assured as it was now.
Fear slithered down her spine as she wondered if he knew about Obi-Wan.

At once, she could almost sense his thumb caressing her cheek, silencing her fear. He knew, but it did not matter – he was safe, and she was safe.
Padmé closed her eyes and wished fervently that he were here, that they didn't have to rely on Force powers to convey their emotions. So that she could touch him, feel him beside her.
She thought she could hear his soft laughter, and her memory raced backward to the last time they had been together before their five-month separation. He had to leave for a debriefing very early
in the morning, and he had promised to return as soon as it was over.
"I don't want you to go," she had begged softly, pulling him back to her on the bed.
He sighed and buried his face in her neck, murmuring, "I don't want to, either, but it's something I have to do."
They shared a deep kiss, and he traced his lips over her face and neck before reluctantly coming to his feet. "I'll be back before you know it."
She smoothed her tangled curls as she said, "Promise?"
He chuckled, a warm, pleasant sound that lit her up inside. "Go to sleep, my love. And when you wake up I'll be there, right beside you. I promise."
And he had been there when she woke up later that morning. She could not remember if he had even left – they were so comfortable and content in that moment. Padmé's exhaustion crept upon her, and she coiled her free arm around her belly as his presence slowly receded from her awareness.
But she was not afraid.
He would be with her when she woke up.

Artoo was screeching something about uncharted hyperspace routes as Anakin punched in coordinates, but he ignored the little astromech droid. The numbers felt right as he entered them,
and in no time at all his sleek star fighter was rocketing toward home. He exhaled heavily and sat back in his seat, idly watching the stars blur outside the canopy viewport.
He knew that his Master had not called him back to Coruscant, but he did not care.
He had done as Sidious had asked.
Now it was his time.
It was not an overly long jump, but Anakin fairly trembled with exhaustion and a myriad of emotions he could not bear to identify. All that mattered was Padmé.
She was all that mattered to him.
Although he could not deny that he still felt an undercurrent of secrecy in her, and even the Chancellor had intimated that she was hiding something. If she was, it would not stay hidden for long.
She had nothing to fear from the New Order, the Chancellor, or anything in the galaxy.
Because she had him.
He was confident that whatever she was hiding, she would tell him eventually. He was her husband – he loved her, and she trusted him. That was how it was supposed to be.
He could never forget the last secret she had shared.
"Ani…I'm pregnant."

Stars had exploded in his brain, and everything became unnaturally bright. Her eyes were shining with joy, yet she yearned for his approval. And he was happy – if their lives had been different
he would have let out an ear-splitting whoop and whirled her around the room. But deception and fear dogged their footsteps.
A child could not remain hidden – should not be hidden – and that meant that everything would change, and not necessarily for the better.
But now…now everything was better.
The Jedi Order was extinct, and with it all those pre-conceived notions of attachment and passion, and he was free. They were free to live, as they ought – as a man and a woman in love,
as a married couple, as a family.
And that gave him joy.
For a moment his heart lifted, and the darkness leeching into his soul thinned as his imagination chased after the daydream of their family living on Naboo, in the villa by the lake. Padmé had confessed her desire to have the baby there, and he was determined to grant her every wish. He saw her greeting him, a soft breeze tossing her glossy curls, the golden sunlight illuminating her creamy skin as she smiled, cradling two tiny bundles of white in her arms…
Two…?

Suddenly the vision was plunged into darkness, and flames sprang up all around him. He cried out, and the heat pressed him from all sides. He heard her screaming in the distance.
She was calling out to him…she wanted him to…
The inferno surrounded him, and he was walking through the ruins of a great city. The smoke and fire cleared a path for him, bowing in reverence to his power. He looked skyward, and instantly
clouds thickened, summoning cold drops of rain.
Then he saw her, hair and dress streaming around her like water.
She was staring at him with an expression that made him shiver.
Silent tears spilled down her pale cheeks, and she leaked sorrow into the Force.
And her dark velvet eyes mourned him, and filled with terror as he approached.
She began backing away.
From him.
Her rejection slit into his chest like a double-edged blade. The darkness swirled around him, blocking his view of her as he screamed for her to stay…
"Anakin…I need you."

The call released him from the nightmarish vision, and he gasped sharply, sweat poring from his temples, his thick curls clinging to his forehead. Anakin's mind returned to the present moment, the echo of Padmé's plea ringing in his heart. He forced himself to relax, settling into his seat as he focused on her. He broadcast his love and devotion to her, pouring his essence into the Force with all the power he could muster. He could see their bedroom, see her small form on the bed, and felt her soothing presence, like the cool waterfalls of Naboo.
Their shared feelings filled him up, banishing the vision from him, and he whispered into her mind, I'm coming.

He sensed her wariness and disbelief, and he could almost see her glancing about the room for him. Her thoughts warred between rationalization and wild hope, and the hope won out
when she whispered, "Anakin?"
Pleasure welled inside him, and he shared it with her, letting it warm them. Their bond was growing stronger, intensified by his new powers. He had tried Force sending with her many times,
but it had never been this certain.
Perhaps their baby's untapped Force potential added strength as well.
As if she had read his thoughts, Padmé's essence quivered with fright.
Obi-Wan, again.
He flooded her raw nerves with calm, comforting her trepidation. Obi-Wan would not harm them – not now, not ever. Anakin was safe, and he would ensure that Padmé and their baby stayed safe.
He felt her desire to touch him, to hold him close, and he laughed. He wanted to be with her, too – but he loved her impatience. He called up a memory – one of his favorites – and pushed it toward her. All anxiousness faded from her mind, and the blankness he sensed was a sign that she had fallen asleep.
He started tinkering with the navicomputer, much to Artoo's alarm, but he brushed aside the droid's warnings.
He had a promise to keep.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, General of the Clone Wars, the Negotiator…and now a wanted fugitive, slowly exited the ruins of the Jedi Temple, now a tomb of dead dreams and fractured ideals, and wandered through the shadows of early dawn.
He had to find a way to fulfill his mission – appointed to him by Yoda himself.
Obi-Wan wondered despondently if Yoda had been successful.
He supposed that he would have felt the Jedi Master's death, or at least the lifting of the veil of darkness at the Sith Lord's demise…but everything remained unnaturally chilled,
and his perception of the Force stayed shrouded in shadows.
Memories of Anakin haunted his every footstep, and the heavy weight of failure hunched his shoulders as he slowly made his way through the city. Where had he gone wrong?
Where had he failed in the boy's training? Perhaps the Council had been right all along. Anakin should never have been trained.
"The boy is dangerous. They all sense it, why can't you?"
Obi-Wan had stated that very forcefully to his own Master years ago, when Qui-Gon had found the boy on Tatooine and claimed him to be the child of the prophecy.
If Qui-Gon had been Anakin's Master, maybe the galaxy would not be drowning in this darkness and pain, and the Jedi would still have their place in the Republic.
Or would Qui-Gon be standing here, where he was now?
The line between destiny and choice was very faint, indeed.

Lost in his tormented ruminations, Obi-Wan started to round a corner to a public transport station when a glimmer of white caught his eye. He glanced up – and pressed himself against the wall
as a small troop of clones guarded the entrance.
He heard one of the troopers check in with a commander over his comm.
"Reporting from Transport Bay 0078. Situation normal, Commander, everything looks clear."
"Stay on alert, Lieutenant, Jedi can be tricky." Obi-Wan's stomach dropped. Apparently it was time he got out of Coruscant. "The Chancellor would prefer him to be captured alive,
but if force is necessary, do not hesitate."
"Yes, sir." The lieutenant signed off, and turned to the group. "Fan out around the Bay and keep your eyes open for any anomalies. The Jedi cannot be permitted to enter any transport."
Obi-Wan's storm gray eyes tracked the movements of the clones, and then leaned against the wall, mind racing wildly. If there were clones stationed at every Transport Bay then he was in deep trouble. But it seemed odd to him that any troops would be placed at this particular Bay. It made no stops at any off-world hangers or major government sites – in fact, the only minor relevant stop was at Five Hundred Republica…

It hit him like a star cruiser plummeting from orbit.
The clones were stationed here to keep him from Padmé.
He suspected the Chancellor wanted to keep Anakin under control, and that meant offering the semblance of protection to his wife.
And in so doing, maintaining custody of a potentially Force Sensitive child.
Obi-Wan could not let anything happen to that child; he or she could be the last hope for the galaxy, and he would not let their education of the Force begin with the poison of the dark side.
He had failed Anakin – he was not about to fail the next generation of Skywalkers.
Suddenly an immensely powerful Force signature drifted across his vision, and his breathing was stagnant as blood pounded in his ears.
It was Anakin. Or whatever had become of Anakin.

The presence felt familiar; still flavored with that earnestness and confidence that Anakin fairly exuded whenever he entered a room, but Obi-Wan could not deny the tang of darkness in his essence.
It left a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth like blood.
But the signature was faint, so that must mean Anakin was not on Coruscant.
Then why…?
Amazed, Obi-Wan felt his old Padawan's perception pass over him and focus on another. The concentration of power astounded the Jedi Master.
It was as if Anakin's abilities had tripled overnight, but Obi-Wan did not sense a black void from him.
He was not sure what he had felt.
But there was only one person on Coruscant that Anakin would contact in this manner.
Obi-Wan abruptly spun on heel and headed into the lower districts of the city. Public transports were out of the question, but there was more than one way to pull the ears off a gundark.
He would make his way to Senator Amidala.
And figure out a way to hide her and the child from Anakin.
Failure was not an option.

It was so rewarding to see events unfold exactly as foreseen.
He had plucked the Chosen One from the feeble grasp of the Jedi, and by adding the boy's fury and power to his own, the Order was all but extinct – save but a few.
Sidious refused to ponder any longer the fate of Master Yoda. The ancient Jedi had no doubt fled to the far reaches of known space, and would trouble him no more.
But Obi-Wan Kenobi was another matter.
That Jedi was notoriously difficult to kill, and his influence still held sway over Sidious' precarious relationship with his new apprentice.
As did the unmanageable Senator Amidala.
But he dare not move directly against her; Vader would surely snap his leash and destroy all of Sidious' well-laid plans with a maelstrom of grief and rage.
No, he would have to tread very carefully through the territory of attachment.
The Sith understood passion, but love was a venom to the constructive use of passion.
Sidious would eventually convince Vader of the logic of this, and Padmé's effect over his more…human emotions would dwindle.
And the child would be his to train without question.
Satisfaction swelled in his chest as he turned to watch the sunlight struggle to pierce the dense fog concealing the city. The Chosen One and his offspring – a family of exceptionally powerful
Force wielders under his command.
It was truly something to look forward to.

The triangular star fighter cut through the fog like an arrowhead as it sailed toward Five Hundred Republica. Anakin felt unusually apprehensive, which annoyed him.
He had nothing to fear, nothing to be ashamed of. Sidious could rebuke him until blue in the face and it didn't matter to the young man. His mission was finished, and he wanted to see his wife.
Obligations and responsibilities be damned.
It had never stopped him before.
But a small part of him worried what the Sith Lord would do in retribution, especially now that he knew Anakin's weakness. The one thing he could not live without.
If he lays a finger on her I'll cut him in half, Anakin silently vowed.
Sidious was not that stupid anyway. He needed Anakin's power, or he would not have gone to such efforts to turn him to the dark side. The tale he had spun of Darth Plagueis at the ballet,
and his promises of granting Anakin the power he needed to save her from his nightmares were all elaborate snares.
But none of that was important to him now.
Padmé would not die in childbirth.
Anakin would never allow it to happen – he didn't need the Chancellor's help.
He had all the power.

Something whispered in the back of his skull that he was being arrogant…but he quickly crushed that thought. He was merely stating a fact.
The star fighter landed smoothly on Padmé's veranda and Anakin slipped out of the cockpit, looking around in mild surprise. No guards, no handmaidens – not a soul in sight.
She must have sent them all away. Smiling to himself, he strode in as quietly as a shadow, moving down the hall to their bedroom.
He gestured, and the Force pushed open the door as silently as a breeze. The blinds were closed, leaving the room in semidarkness, and her scent filled his nostrils as her presence filled his heart.
He inhaled deeply, all tension fleeing his tall frame, and he was irresistibly drawn to the small figure on the bed.
She was slumbering peacefully, that little sleep smile curving her lips, and her face pressed against the folds of his old cloak.
He couldn't help the grin that nearly split his face.
He was home – his home, with his wife and his child.
Anakin leaned down to kiss her enticing lips when the smell of sulfur sent him wheeling backward in horror. He swept into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror.

What he saw froze the blood in his veins.
He saw a soot-streaked face flecked with multicolored blood, and eyes burning red and yellow as the lava streams of Mustafar.
Anakin stepped away in shock, and looked down at his palms – one flesh, one encased in a black glove, reeling.
Who am I? What am I?
He struggled to catch his breath as he paced the room, the need to throw something or smash the mirror into shards nearly overtaking him.
Padmé moaned softly in her sleep and he halted, breathing deeply.
He just needed to calm down. She could not see him like this.
Anakin slowly closed the bathroom door and stripped down to his pants. He vigorously splashed water over his face, hair, and upper body and scrubbed off the dried blood and volcanic ash
caked onto his skin. Then he sat cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes, sinking into a meditation trance.
It only lasted a few minutes, but when he looked back into the mirror, his clear blue eyes stared back at him from shadowed hollows in his face. Fatigue was beginning to overwhelm him;
he had to rest and collect his strength.
He grabbed his soiled clothing and tossed it into the recycler, and slipped back into the bedroom. Tucking his boots, belt and lightsaber under the bed, he gingerly lifted the covers
and climbed in beside her.

She did not stir, so Anakin slipped closer and slowly put his arm around her, gently pulling her toward him. Padmé's smile widened just a little, and she snuggled into his chest, laying her soft cheek on his chest as her hand found the warm skin over his heart. Contentment stole over him as he tucked her body into his – her head under his chin as his arms encircled her delicate shoulders.
She crooked her leg around his, instinctively pulling closer, and the bulge of their child pressed into his ribs.
He felt each movement, and marveled inwardly how she managed to sleep at all.
Everything else in the universe faded away in a blissful haze, and as Anakin drifted off to sleep, he listened to her every heartbeat, each sweet breath.
He had kept this promise, and he had many more to fulfill.
And the stinging memory of those burning flames in his eyes receded in the warmth of Padmé's embrace. Her strong, faithful love chased away the apparition of Vader and called Anakin Skywalker
to the surface. Whether he was weak or not, she loved him.
His entire existence revolved around the angel resting beside him.
Nothing else lived outside that door for him – not now.
Padmé sighed into his neck and the baby shifted inside her as Anakin succumbed to sleep. But his Force sense remained focused on her as his unconscious mind tried to cleanse itself
in the balm of her presence.
So he remained unaware when Obi-Wan entered the apartment.

Gaining access to Senator Amidala's apartment was trickier than sneaking into a Hutt's vault. Obi-Wan had threaded his way through the lower districts of Coruscant to emerge a few kilometers
from the Senatorial apartments – only to be met with yet another contingent of clone troopers.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation, Obi-Wan called upon the Force and a group of them headed toward a far alley to investigate a mysterious noise.
Leaving one lone guard at the entrance.
Influencing the clone's mind was relatively easy, and the Jedi Master boarded the nearest turbolift. Arriving at the door to Padmé's suite he paused, and tentatively stretched out with the Force.
He felt her latent mind, comfortably drifting in sleep. He also felt a peculiar echo from her, which he suspected was a sign of the unborn child's undeveloped abilities. Obi-Wan debated whether
to simply stand alert outside the apartment instead of disturbing Padmé, when his perception jittered a warning, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
Thrusting hesitation aside, Obi-Wan manipulated the lock on the door and slipped inside the suite. The warning grew more pronounced, tensing his thoughts and his muscles as he scanned
the spacious columned room.
And he saw the green triangular star fighter docked on the veranda.
Anakin was here.

He reached inside the folds of his cloak and grasped the hilt of his lightsaber. Keeping the inactive weapon in hand he approached the ship cautiously. Artoo was not in the droid socket, and Obi-Wan placed his open palm against the nose of the fighter. Still warm, he thought to himself. He hasn't been here long.
A chill breeze tousled Obi-Wan's sand-colored hair as he backed away from the fighter and into the apartment, his blue-grey eyes restlessly sweeping the room.
Subtlety was not Anakin's strong point; if he had sensed Obi-Wan's arrival he would meet him head-on, lightsaber blazing.
Obi-Wan could only conclude that, remarkably, Anakin did not know he was here.
Which may work in his favor.
Obi-Wan's stomach turned at the possibility of slaying him in front of Padmé, but her welfare and that of the child forestalled all feelings of disgust.
Some things had to be done.

He crept down the hall to the bedroom. The door was cracked slightly, and Obi-Wan heard soft, rhythmic breathing from within. He moved closer and peered into the darkened chamber.
Two figures slept on the bed, so close together that they could have been one entity, both physically and in the Force.
Deeply confused, Obi-Wan pushed the door open a little further and slipped inside.
The young couple was entwined in each other's arms, enveloped in contentment, and the impression Obi-Wan received from Anakin's awareness caused him to stare in astonishment.
After all the death and destruction, the betrayal and the pain, and the stain of darkness on his soul…he seemed unchanged. He felt the same as he had the last time Obi-Wan had seen him,
before the long night.
Like Anakin had returned from the dead.

And the reason Anakin's exceptional powers did not sense Obi-Wan's intrusion was because every fiber of the young man's being was centered wholly on the small woman cradled against his chest. His essence was permeated with fiercely protective love for his wife, and a bubble of Force energy surrounded them in a cocoon of static, warding off the rest of the galaxy.
The Jedi Master's bewildered gaze shifted to Padmé's dark head, and he realized that perhaps the child was not the last hope for the galaxy.
Padmé held more control over Anakin and the fate of the Republic than anyone could have predicted.
And Sidious would surely know.
Obi-Wan's knuckles whitened around the metallic cylinder of his lightsaber. Yes, the Sith Lord's eventual plan would include poisoning her connection to his apprentice so the only counsel Anakin listened to would be his own. But as he watched them sleep, Obi-Wan could not help but wonder if their connection was the key to redeeming his best friend from the pull of the dark side.

If he only knew what had caused him to fall in the first place.
He suspected that it had something to do with Padmé, but what?
Questions whirled inside his brain, and all thought of attack vanished. He would stay here and wait for Anakin to awaken. Undoubtedly, there would be a battle – then again, Anakin may not want
to fight in Padmé's midst. If Obi-Wan and Padmé worked together to convince Anakin of his error, maybe they could save him.
It was a grave risk, considering the fragile life harboring inside Padmé, but he had to try. He missed his friend.
He had lost too many friends already.
Obi-Wan exited the room and closed the door softly, emotions and thoughts whirling around him as he strode into the small parlor on the far side of the suite. He would be patient and wait.
The threat of meeting Vader instead of Anakin weighed heavily on his conscience, and he could not bear to leave a vulnerable Padmé alone with that creature.
No, if Vader came out of that room, Obi-Wan would not falter.
He could not afford to – there was too much at stake.
He wrapped his cloak about him and sat on the divan, watching the sunlight strive to pierce the fog swathing the planet poised on the brink of an abyss.