Shock tore through Ahsoka's every nerve as she looked at Anakin standing before her, her Master, her friend. Even without the force, she could sense the rippling terror surging through him. Could see it in the harsh clench of his jaw and his fists straining by either side of his body. With the force, she sensed the frenzy of his thoughts, the worry, the dread and anguish tearing through his mind.

Despite all of that, Ahsoka couldn't help but feel a surge of betrayal. Was it wrong? Maybe. But she couldn't help it, couldn't crush it down to be there for her friend. He hadn't trusted her enough to let her help him make this decision. If she was there, she could have helped! Maybe there could have been another plan! A different idea! But Anakin made this decision… and now they all had to live with it.

She folded her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes where Anakin leaned heavily on the holotable as if it were the only thing keeping him on his feet at all. "So you mean to tell me," her voice hissed, "that my Empress is now behind enemy lines. Where we can't reach her without all-out war?"

Anakin did not meet her eye right away. Ahsoka watched a muscle feather in his jaw and a new tightness spread across his arms and shoulders as if the weight of the galaxy itself settled on him. Maybe it had? After a few moments, those bright azure eyes lifted and found her own, raging, storming, a promise of violence in every flicker of colour. "I mean to tell you," his voice was deep and strained as he battled for control over himself. "That your Empress has made a sacrifice for her people and her children." The rage in his eyes only seemed to intensify. "And we will make our move when the time is right, Ahsoka."

He had thought about this, she realised, he hadn't stopped thinking about this since the transmission came through. The enemy probably thought this move had won them the war. And had they been fighting anyone else, had they captured anyone else, it might have, but Ahsoka knew her Master too well to believe Anakin was going to go down without a fight.

"And until then, Master?" she asked.

Anakin stood straight once more and as if they had read his mind or heard a silent command, the doors of the room hissed open to the thunder of marching boots. Rex, Cody, Fives and other Generals strode into the room dressed for battle. Behind them, King Thule, Bail Organa, Mon Mothma and the other members of the war council circled the table. A flickering blue projection burst forth from the table, revealing a layout of the Imperial palace and casting Anakin's face in a half-blue mask as his eyes hardened and shoulders set. A soldier prepared for battle.

"Until then, Snips, we go to war."

11 Years Earlier

The flicker of candles and dimmed lights sealed within the sway of four glimmering crystal chandeliers spread across the vast ceiling bathed the palace ballroom in an ethereal golden glow. Guests lingered on the wide, pale stairway and above in the expansive balconies overlooking the celebration in their most lavish clothing, leisurely sipping upon the sparkling champagne the silver serving droids offered upon opulent embossed platters. Long, fine drapes of vibrant silk hung over the edges of the mezzanines and stairwell boasting the embroidered outline of the Skywalker insignia.

No expense had been spared.

Soft cords of music flowed from the musicians instruments and sweetened the air in gentle, romantic strings, a mellow invitation for people to guide their partners to the tremendous dancefloor. Across the vast space, a rainbow of gowns, robes and cloaks glided in perfect sync but through the boundless sea of colour, only one purely perfect gown of white shone. One bride, one angel Anakin could not tear his ravenous eyes from for even one moment.

Even this pantomime wedding had rendered the Prince breathless. How many were given a chance to promise themselves to their soulmate twice in one lifetime? He wanted, almost more than anything, to make his way across the room where Padme laughed happily with her former colleagues Organa and Mothma and join her or perhaps sweep her into his arms and whisk her somewhere where no curious eyes could watch them. Unfortunately, his wife – force, even weeks later, it was still so wonderful to say Padme was his wife – would probably wish to dance some more before they snuck away. The thought made Anakin grimace but if it would make her happy, he would endure.

A serving droid skated its way through the crowd slowly enough to allow hands to pluck the crystal floats it offered but at a pace which would not disturb the party. As he lifted a glass for himself, Anakin looked through the crowd of guests come to celebrate, mingle and schmooze amongst fellow politicians, Imperial Officials and aristocrats, taking full advantage of the new Emperor's generosity and the long-awaited re-opening of court. On the dancefloor, Anakin noticed Duke Kenobi of Mandalore spinning around his Duchess. Her thick, layered emerald dress flapped and twirled around her knees, flashing the Duchess' moonlight skin. He smiled as the pair laughed in each other's arms. How close Satine Kryze had come to being his sister-in-law once… and now here the pale Duchess was, married to another man and blissfully content.

Life was a strange journey.

Hovering by the staircase, King Thule glowered at his Queen whose white-painted face was slightly smeared where sloppy placement of her beverages had smudged the stripe of red lipstick noticeably. Falynn's wide gown of silver sparkled beneath the lights and trailed several precarious inches behind her body wherever she moved. Atop her blonde coiled hair, a wide-fanned headdress of silver and grey feathers crowned the Nubian Queen. As usual, the couple hissed and glared at one another as Falynn reached for yet another glass of champagne and drained it in one long gulp, never breaking eye contact with her husband as his face reddened with fury. And they have children, Anakin thought with a shudder. He'd never seen a less happy couple than the Nubian royalty though their misery was a carefully hidden secret from the public who adored their royal family.

Glancing further, Anakin spotted Princess Arievel Talai of Hynestia dancing dutifully with her father, King Rysi, their titles merely ceremonial for as long as he could remember. Hynestia had been all too happy to be welcomed into the rule of the Empire more than twenty years ago. Anakin remembered his father once saying the system was desperate for trade and protection to aid their struggling people and had knelt before Sidious to gain it. Arievel, who was dressed in a simple, vibrant pink gown with little decoration, looked over her shoulder, scanning the ballroom with large blue eyes before shaking her head at Rysi who deflated. Even from where he stood, Anakin could sense the white-bearded man's disappointment.

Strange…

"Can we speak?" A painfully familiar voice tore the Prince from his thoughts as dread and excitement danced around one another for dominance. Without turning, Anakin knew exactly who was standing behind him, he had sensed his brother's approach the very moment Vader took his first steps in this direction. Taking a deep breath, he turned stiffly to find his dark-haired twin dressed in a dark velvet suit bearing black and red embroidery and tried not to grimace. His first wedding without his brother had been beautiful and painful all at once. This second event hadn't eased the wound any. Anakin missed him every bit as much as he wanted to punch Vader's smug face all over again.

"What do you want, Vader?" He emptied his glass and thrust it upon the next serving platter he saw. The last thing he needed was to draw attention by shattering it to bloodied pieces in front of all of his guests. Padme's subtle efforts to push him toward speaking with the Emperor had been heard and pushed out of his mind throughout their secret honeymoon but Anakin supposed there was no more avoiding it now.

"I want…" Vader sighed, "Anakin, I want to apologise to you. Profusely. I became so caught up in my envy of you and everything you have that I was… well, I'm ashamed to admit, I was desperate to take it for myself. My every thought was ruled by my own desires, nothing else, I didn't think about how my actions would affect you, brother, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Despite how he ached for his twin by his side and for how things were between them, the simmering rage so deeply repressed began to boil over once more. Anakin felt his teeth grinding against each other. "You took advantage of my wife, Vader! You – you knew how much the baby meant to her and when she was grieving you tried to turn her against me!" He hissed, "What the hell am I supposed to say to you? Just thinking about it makes me want to take your damned head!" His own brother… Anakin's clenched fists trembled beneath molten fury searing him from the inside out, his brother had tried to take everything that he loved for himself and now he wanted his forgiveness. How much was a man supposed to take?

"I know," Vader held up his hands and sighed, "Believe me, I know what I did… Look, everything I said to you the other day, I meant it. I will keep my word. You and Padme have nothing to fear from me. I…" His turbulent golden eyes fell shut heavily and for one moment he seemed to sag beneath the weight of the galaxy so recently thrust publicly upon his shoulders. "Sabe told me about your wedding. Your real wedding and I… Being so shut out of your life has pained me, Anakin. We're brothers! Twins. We were never supposed to have such distance between us and while I know there is no one to blame but myself. I want to be in your life again, whatever it takes to earn my place."

He watched his brother carefully, sensing the truth of Vader's words as they spoke to his soul and soothed the fire within him like water thrown over the heart of it. Truthfully, Anakin had never considered how he might tell him about his wedding on Naboo and he had mourned his brother's absence that day. Several moments passed as he felt himself begin to wither beneath the mental exhaustion of it. "I'm sorry you weren't there," the Prince said at last, "I missed you."

"The fault is my own," tentatively, Vader raised his hand and placed it upon Anakin's shoulder and the familiar weight of it was as much relief as water to a man dying of thirst. "I love you, Anakin. I want to make things right between us again, I only ask that you give me the chance."

A chance. Time to talk and work things out… This was exactly what Padme had been pushing for, Anakin knew how much it was eating at her to know she got in the way of his and Vader's relationship. And he did miss his brother. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the galaxy to work toward reconciliation? They would talk. They could share a drink. In time, things would shift and fall into place once more. He wanted that more than anything. Vader and Padme were the most important people in his life, his brother and his wife! He needed them both to feel at peace.

"Alright," he said at last releasing a long, quaking breath. A serving droid swooshed past and two flutes gently lifted from its tray and floated through the air and into the waiting hands of Emperor and Prince, brother and brother. Holding up his own, Anakin's lips lifted into a smile beyond his control. "A fresh start."

Cling. Vader clinked their glasses together wearing an identical smile of his own. "A fresh start."

The bride and groom danced in the very centre of the dancefloor wrapped in each other's arms as they swayed to the final notes of music they would linger to hear. Of course, the celebrations would last well into the small hours of the night and Vader would be forced to smile and endure until the hour grew late enough that it would not appear suspicious for the Emperor to slip out and abandon his guests. Damn his life, all he wanted to do was collapse in bed knowing all of this was behind him.

He had accomplished what he had set out to do. Progress between him and Anakin was imperative – how could he be expected to rule without his brother, his right-hand man by his side? Moreover, Vader had missed the time they shared together greatly – more even than he desired Padme by his side or in his bed. Of course, the Emperor had not been lying when he promised to not touch Anakin's wife unless she asked… but force, if she asked him, he could not be held responsible for his actions. If she came to him, if she gave herself to him, Vader would keep her secret as long as he lived if it meant a chance to finally sate his blazing lust for her.

Well, until such a glorious time came along, he was overwhelmed to know Anakin was willing to extend forgiveness for the past. They were brothers, two halves of one, this separation between them had been unnatural and painful. Thank the force it was done with now. Tomorrow, before the pretending newlyweds disappeared for three weeks of travel, relaxation and peace to enjoy their new marriage, Anakin had agreed to meet with him for lunch. It was a start and Vader found himself eagerly anticipating it. There was so much to discuss! Sabe had begun overseeing preparations for his coronation despite the event taking place just under one year from now. The rules of mourning a passing monarch were firm and unmovable despite no one in the galaxy truly missing the reign of Sidious, some traditions had to be honoured.

He also wished to hear all about the actual wedding in the heart of Naboo. Padme's idea, he was willing to bet, the new Princess was deeply romantic by nature and wholeheartedly over-attached to her homeworld. How long before she began pestering Anakin to take up full-time residence there, away from public life, especially if they truly meant to try for a child in the coming weeks? Well, he was sure he would hear all about it.

As Anakin whispered something to his wife, making Padme flush and cast a flirtatious glare through her long lashes, behind Vader someone cleared their throat. Turning, the Emperor almost grimaced to find Rysi of Hynestia falling into a deep bow before him. Vader refused to honour the Talai family's claim of monarchy over their system by use of royal titles, not when Hynestia sold themselves willingly. Their system was his alone. Perhaps, this was why the apparent royal family dressed without the opulent splendour of the other guests in attendance this evening, favouring simple clothing without any trinket or token to display their former greatness. Rysi glanced upwards at him, his long, belly-reaching beard was as white as what little hair remained on his head. The false King's burned orange robes were threadbare if examined closely enough and close to tearing near the gut and shoulders… perhaps Hynestia required more trading treaties to improve the old man's station?

Beside him, Arievel Talai, his daughter, sunk into a well-practiced curtsey though her icy blue eyes did not leave Vader's. The simple, square-necked gown she wore was plain and yet the vibrant pink was striking against the snow of her skin. A singular Hynestian blossom rested in the basic styled twist of her blonde hair, a refreshing contrast to the finery surrounding him this evening. "Rysi Talai," he smiled tightly, allowing the pair to rise to their full heights once more, "and you must be Arievel," Vader brought her pale knuckles to his lips, "the whispers of your beauty do not lie, my lady."

And she was a vision even without the extravagance which most women he knew draped themselves in, though most would overlook the Hynestian heir for her plainness and lack of fortune, there was certainly something about her… he could not place it. Arievel smiled widely though she did not flush or flutter at his complement as most women did. Vader sensed a hardness within her, a lock he would rather like to pick.

"Thank you, your majesty. You're too kind," Arievel's smile, however, was genuine and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy it. "I'm sorry if we're interrupting you, I convinced my father to make our way over here to thank you for your generosity in inviting us. It was a beautiful wedding."

"Yes," Rysi smiled, "My beloved wife sends her warmest congratulations to Prince Anakin and his beautiful bride. She could not make it this evening due to the impending birth of my newest grandchild. A boy," the old man's eyes grew misty, "the ninth one to grace our family."

"Nine boys?" Vader's eyebrows lifted beyond his control and Arievel gave a tinkling laugh at his surprise

"Yes," the blonde nodded, "and ten girls too. My six brothers and sisters enjoy their broods very much, your grace. We are a…" she tipped her head, carefully considering her words, "fruitful family."

By the force! Despite his best efforts, he could not hide his utter surprise much to the father and daughter's absolute delight as they shared a great laugh. "You certainly have your hands full," Vader chuckled breathlessly "I can't imagine having quite so many myself."

Chortling, Rysi laid a long, wrinkled hand upon his daughter's slim shoulder. "I hope my dear Arievel here will give me at least one more grandchild before my time is up." Something sly painted the old man's face and he winked playfully at Vader. "I brought her along in the hopes she'll finally meet someone nice and fly the nest, love being in the air and all!"

"Papa," she hissed, "That's quite enough."

Glancing over his shoulder, Vader realised Anakin and Padme had disappeared from the dance floor and other couples had drifted into their place as the stirrings of a new song began to chime in invitation. Perhaps this evening had more to offer than reconciliation after all? The will of the force was a mysterious thing indeed... "Would you honour me with a dance, my lady?" He offered his hand to the blonde though her father seemed to quiver more than Arievel in response.

"The honour is mine," The blonde sunk into a shallow curtsey once more and laid her hand into Vader's waiting one.

As he led his partner onto the dancefloor, Vader's eyes shifted across the room and found themselves locked in the bitter, distressed stare of Satine for the briefest of moments before the Duchess turned and hastily made her way into the throng beyond his gaze.

He met Arievel's eyes again and found he did not care.

One year later.

"Padme?"

Ahsoka's soft voice pulled the Princess from her wandering thoughts as she watched the gentle glide of the rippling lake beneath the yellow-stone balcony she stood upon. Never would she grow tired of the views of the high, sprawling mountains and luscious greenery so unlike the urban atmosphere of Coruscant. If it were entirely her choice, most of her days would be spent here on Naboo, in the house she and Anakin had spent months searching for and perfecting once it became theirs. In the very heart of the lake country, so close to where they were married, this was home. This was where they belonged.

Just beyond the mountains, clouds were beginning to thicken and bleed into darkness, curling around one another to create a blanket of grey across the sky. A suffocating heat tainted the air around them inspiring beads of sweat across Padme's body as she watched the storm's approach. For all of Naboo's wonderful sunshine, her rainstorms were a fury her homeworld endured every few months. Something inside her whispered that this one would be as brutal as it was powerful.

Turning, she faced the girl dressed in a high-necked, sleeveless red dress and grey leggings and scuffed boots reaching to her knees. Around Ahsoka's waist, two identical lightsabers hung, something her husband positively swelled with pride about whenever the weapons came into conversation. The building of one's own lightsaber was of great importance, he had explained, and that his apprentice was skilled enough to wield two was a matter of great delight to Anakin. The pair of them had vanished for four days to the frigid ice caves of IIum together several months ago to allow Ahsoka to find the crystals she would require for her lightsabers and upon their return, had locked themselves up in the garage to craft the glowing blades. "Are they on their way back yet?" Padme asked.

"Not yet," the girl winced, "Sky-guy asked me to tell you he's sorry but they're running a little behind schedule."

"Of course, they are," she shook her head but no irritation tugged at her. How could it? Anakin had all but imported the Imperial military to Naboo these past three months to fulfil her wishes. He had so much work to do with several new battalions being added to their numbers. New, untrained troopers whose creation was completed as a further display of strength within the Empire, an act wildly unpopular with many of her former colleagues in the Senate, so Padme had heard. It would have been easier for him to remain on the official base on Coruscant but Anakin wasn't willing to be parted from her at such a time and she really was glad he was here with her for support and comfort. "I hope they manage to beat out this storm," she mused, "it doesn't look good."

Rubbing a hand across her swollen, heavy stomach, she smiled through the small spike of terror which squeezed at her heart. Often, Padme had to remind herself that this pregnancy was not like her first one… Luis had come far too soon to live but this child was due in just two weeks. It was strong and healthy! At first, at Anakin's firm insistence, she had endured daily doctor's visitations to ensure everything was progressing as it should but as the baby's health and size grew, the visits reduced to something closer to the experiences of a normal woman in her condition.

This was not like before. This baby was wanted by both their parents equally from the very beginning. When Padme had told Anakin the news, her husband had been visibly nervous and overjoyed at the same time, stuttering over his words and eagerly placing his palm to her stomach to feel where their child was growing inside of her. It had always been her desire to have her baby at home and he had been so patient and generous about ensuring it happened, bending over backwards to appease both King Thule and Vader about the military training relocation. He had long, nightly reports to Vader and his Council detailing his progress with the troopers which often left him exhausted and drained by the end of it.

These past weeks it seemed all of the galaxy was waiting with bated breath to see if the royal baby would be born before or after their uncle's coronation. The little Prince-to-be would be here in time, Padme was sure of it, despite Anakin's firm confidence that the Princess inside of her was in no hurry to greet her parents. They had gone around and around with this little debate since she had begun to show months ago with no answer to settle the argument. Opting to keep the sex a surprise had been her idea which Anakin reluctantly agreed to go along with despite his impatience to know the truth. Her mother always said that a mother's instinct never missed and hers swore the child was a boy. Still, Anakin shook his head every time, smug and confident for a man who wasn't carrying the baby, proudly declaring they had a daughter on the way.

"Are you okay?" Ahsoka eyed her cautiously, "You look pale and… well, - "

"Enormous?" She laughed lightly, eyeing her stretched stomach playfully. Ahsoka wouldn't be wrong for thinking it, she grimaced in the mirror most mornings. It was only because the scans and doctors had confirmed it more than once that Padme was sure there wasn't more than one baby inside her, much to the absolute relief of her husband, even if he wisely kept that to himself. With Anakin being a twin, the possibility of carrying a set of her own had been more than a little daunting. "I'm just tired, don't worry, Ahsoka."

"Maybe you should lay down for a little while?" She suggested warily, "Just to rest your eyes until Master Anakin gets back."

"Hmm," she was especially tired today… It seemed the closer to the baby's due date Padme got the more drained she felt! If this was pregnancy, then the reality of a child was going to be shocking. She really couldn't wait for the little one to come along so she could lie down comfortably again. "That might be a good id- ah!" A ripping, stabbing cramp tore through her stomach and spine, so shockingly intense that her unprepared knees wobbled and buckled, propelling her to the cold stone floor.

"Padme!" Ahsoka cried, darting forward to catch her weight with a small grunt and stumble, "Force, what happened? Are you alright?" Concern painted the togruta girl's paling orange face as she helped Padme to steady herself once more. "Should I comm Anakin? What do you need?"

Opening her mouth, her words died beneath a short gasping sound as a sudden gush of warm wetness rushed between her legs and dampened the stone by her feet. Distantly, she heard Ahsoka's wince which might have felt embarrassing if not for the growing cramping tearing across her lower body.

"Oh gods," Padme panted, leaning heavily upon her husband's apprentice for support as the quivering of her legs left them unsteady. "I think the baby is coming!"