#*revenge of the sith happens*

[kylo-skywalkerr]

Stuck in a hotel room and passing time with tv. Young Jedi Adventures is so fucking funny to me because Yoda's alive in it making it pre-empire. The tech from what I've seen matches up to the prequel timeframe. Therefore, these very well could have been younglings when Anakin was a Jedi Knight. And we all know what happened to the younglings.

[heyclickadee]

Okay, this headline is killing me.

Of course they knew. It was the worst kept secret in the order. The council talked about it during their caf breaks, I’m sure. They just let Anakin think he’d fooled them. Mace and Yoda probably had a running bet on how long it would take Anakin to realize that they knew. Most of the 501st knew. Everyone knew. Why is this a headline. I’m dying. This has killed me. Send necromancers. I’m dead and posting this from beyond the grave.

[currentlyonstandbi]

[hayden-christensen]

TALES OF THE JEDI (2022) + Parallels to other Star Wars media

[izloveshorses]

like. imagine being a Normal Citizen in a galaxy far far away during revenge of the sith. like. you're scrolling on your holonet and not only has the chancelor been promoted to emperor (hello??), a senator (you follow fan pages of her for fashion inspo) has DIED suddenly AND it's revealed she was PREGNANT !!!!!!?? the whole time??? but who was the father?? was she married?? how did she die??? as far as you know she was young and healthy and unmarried, so like?? the girls and their speculations and their memes would've been insane on the holonet dashboard that week fr

[is-that-sand-in-my-waffles]

reblog if you've been personally victimized by Matthew Stover's Revenge of the Sith novelization

[inquisitor-apologist]

Let’s imagine for a minute that you’re Mace at the end of RotS.

You’ve just discovered that the Chancellor, your legally elected head of government who has been trusted with leading your civilization through this war, has actually been playing both sides the entire time and caused the war in the first place, all for his own personal gain. This war has devastated entire planets and peoples, taking millions of lives, including civilians and your own personal friends who were drafted into the war by the Chancellor in the first place. The Chancellor has overstayed his term by five years and amassed incredible and unconstitutional powers because of the war he created, and is quickly on his way to becoming a galactic dictator. To add insult to injury, you have good reason to believe that said Chancellor is even now organizing the genocide of the rest of your people. If you don’t stop him now, no one will be able to.

So, with the powers your people have been trusted with for centuries, you and several of your friends go to arrest him. He resists arrest, and reminds you that he has control over the Senate, so even if he is arrested, he won’t be punished for his actions. You continue to try to arrest him, but he refuses, attacking you and your friends, and killing all of them. He then tries to kill you. You manage to defeat him, but when you go to arrest him, he attacks again with lightning that comes from his hands. Even blocking it is incredibly difficult and taxing, and letting your guard down for an instant means certain death. He can use this attack at any time. If you attempt to handcuff him, you leave yourself open. If you try to cut his hands off, you leave yourself open. He has made it clear that if you do anything to let your guard down, he will kill you. Keep in mind that, even if you do find a way to non-lethally subdue him, you will then have to turn him over to the courts, which he has complete control over. If you kill him now, the threat will end and it will be obvious that you were acting in self-defense.

Remember that he is responsible for the deaths of millions, and that if he escapes he will kill thousands more and destroy your democracy.

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Revenge of the Sith ends after Padme tells Anakin she’s pregnant

[feel-the-fire]

POV you just tried to arrest the Senate

[anakin-dovahkiin]

Hi! My favorite is Anakin x Fluffy Reader. I would like Anakin Rots , where he is anxious to meet his girl after a long mission. Something like Ani takes her on a date on another planet , Alderaan or Naboo .

Alpenglow (I've Missed You)

Summary: Anakin comes back from rescuing the Chancellor only to notice that you are stationed on Alderaan and not currently home. Obi-Wan pulled some strings so he could visit you, and in no time Anakin finds you. He decides to set up something nice for the both of you in the mountains, where you witness a beautiful sunset.

Notes: Thank you so much for the request! Reader can be GN, and can be a Jedi or senator or really anything, it's pretty ambiguous. I feel like Alderaan would be super pretty, and the "alpenglow" phenomenon would definitely happen here. Anakin is so soft and loves you so much!! (Warnings: None!)

You can’t believe how lucky you were to be stationed in Alderaan for the past couple of months, especially during the planets summer cycle. 

Coruscant is your home now, yes, but it was rather often that you wished to be outside in the mountains and trees amongst nature. You have every intention of making up for lost time while you are here, but each time you try to embark on a hike to admire the scenery, you feel as though you can’t go on. You don’t want to go just yet, knowing how much more your love would desire to be amongst all the greenery and streams and lush landscapes than you could possibly imagine.

A spike of fear runs through you. Anakin could be another few months on his campaign, and for all you know he could be—

You shake the thought from your head. You remind yourself to be mindful, to focus on the present moment, and count all the different songs of birds that you can hear in the grassy clearing where you sit and meditate.



Anakin is alive and well, you can feel it. You may have to suffer without his warm and enveloping presence for awhile yet, but as long as he was safe and working his way to you, you could bear it. 

You settle your heartbeat, taking deeper breaths to the point where you feel as though you are a part of the nature surrounding you—so much so that you don’t notice the footsteps behind you. 

“What are you doing all the way out here?” that melodic voice asks sweetly.

Your eyes snap open, and your breath rises in your chest so fast you feel like you might start floating. Turning around, you see your love, your Anakin, standing a bit awkwardly with the afternoon sunlight bathing him in a soft yellow glow. 

You scramble to your feet and launch yourself into his arms, and your embrace couldn’t be broken apart by even the strongest of forces. You were together, and the world felt like it made sense again.

“You’re here, you’re here, I can’t believe—” you whisper throughout the embrace, threading a hand in his hair and holding him impossibly closer. “How? Your mission—”

“I returned to Coruscant and you weren’t there,” he mutters against the skin of your forehead. You can still sense the thread of melancholy unraveling from him, but the longer he is here with you, the shorter and fainter the thread becomes. But there is something else—some of his panic remains, and you hear it in his voice. “Rescued the Chancellor, but the Council wanted me to spy on him even though Obi-Wan said ‘no’ and then he was sent away… Bail told me you were stationed here, and I wanted to leave, I needed to leave, everything was suffocating… but then Obi was able to grant me a leave for a week! Can you believe it?”

You pull away from him slightly, and he audibly whines. You keep your hands in his hair, only pulling back far enough to look him in the eyes as you speak to him. 

“That’s… a lot. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, I wish I had been… But I suppose I owe Bail and Obi-Wan now for granting my wish they didn’t even know I had.” You giggle, giddy with happiness because he’s here. He is with you, even though you feared the worst. To be honest, some irrational part of you still fears the worst. Your smile wavers, “Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

You caress his face, noting the frown there and wishing you could smooth away the creases with just a swipe of your fingers. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, and the two of you fall into an embrace once more. It is more gentle than the previous one but is no less intimate. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, and it comes from the depths of his soul, through the Force, through every fiber in the fabric of reality. 

Without you, he would be lost.

“I missed you too, Anakin…” you say, and finally you angle his face down to yours for a chaste kiss. “Even here, where everything is beautiful, I could only think of how much more beautiful it would be with you here, how much you would love it.”

“The green?”

You smile, resting your forehead against his. “Mhm, the green. Your favorite color.”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much.”

Your smile is bursting at the seams. He’s said it before to you, but there is something about him being here with you in this setting that makes it all more potent. The landscape is stunning, and you feel some sort of longing in your chest become sated as you stand here with Anakin Skywalker in your embrace, protecting you from the galaxy but also giving you the whole galaxy with just those words.

“I love you,” you whisper, your eyes stinging and your vision becomes a bit blurry so you look down at the ground in hopes it would clear away. 

Anakin tilts your chin up to look at him, and this movement lets tears leak from your eyes. He catches them with his thumbs. “What is it?”

You feel slightly embarrassed—you’re grown, independent, but being reunited with him is like finding your childhood blanket that you lost forever. You have more faith in Anakin, know that he would survive the war, but the fear of losing him affects you more than you thought.

“I’ve missed you… I worry for you and I am so, so happy you are here with me.”

He grins. “I have something for you. I know how much you love the mountains, so I set something up for us…”

No way. “Stop! You did not—”

He grabs your hand and leads you through the brush until you reach higher ground and another clearing that lies above the treetops so you can see the snow capped mountains all around you, standing tall like they were keeping watch. 

It is sunset, and the light bounds from mountain to mountain, bathing the slopes in shades of purple, pink, and orange.

There’s a blanket laid on he ground with a bucket of your favorite snacks from your apartment on Coruscant.

“I was so anxious to see you, and I know how much you love relaxing at home, so I figured I would bring a bit of home to you!” He says, but then he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “At least, I think these are your favorite snacks…”

You both sit on the blanket, and you sit in his lap with your back pressed flush against his chest. 

You tilt your head up to press a kiss to his jaw. “This is my home. Right here. With you, and looking out at the alpenglow. It’s only so beautiful because you’re so beautiful.”

He smiles again, but scrunches his eyebrows. “‘Alpenglow’? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Well, now you have. You’re looking at it right now.”

You watch his sky blue eyes take in the blend of colors before you, and you savor the awed look on his face that is so innocent, so pure.

“You’re my alpenglow,” he says, flicking his eyes to meet yours. His gaze is electric, and you feel like your heart might burst from your chest once again. You know what he meant by that, and you love his affinity for trying to come up with strange metaphors. 

(You’ll never forget the sand one.)

You laugh. “I don’t think that is how you use the word, Anakin.”

“Well it’s how I’m using it. I am a Jedi, I’m always right.”

“Of course, Master Skywalker,” you say, doing your best impression of a Council-member. 

He chuckles, then nuzzles his cheek into the crown of your head. He lets out a long exhale, and all the tension from days, weeks, and months past escapes his body. You are together, you are safe, and you are grounded. 

You’re home.

[littlemissbiatch]

POV you’re watching Revenge of the Sith and realize every moment of this movie is a fucking meme.

[mrs-mandalorian]

The last 4 episodes of TCW are agony to watch

[agirlunderarock]

Sunrises and Fireworks

Summary: Its been five years since Palpatine was outed for playing both sides of the Galactic Civil War, but getting out of bed is still a losing battle. Treaty week is upon Obi-Wan and his family but not everyone seems eager to celebrate in Theed.

Pairing: Obi-Wan X Sas Vom (OC)

Warnings; Fluff, all fluff no angst, no hurt comfort just straight up fluff and Obi-Wan enjoying life without war and outrageous missions.

Read on Ao3

A/N: This was requested by @heyhawtdawgs who had been asking that 1. I write Obi-Wan happy and no longer angsty and 2. Obi-Wan interact with some Boga babies, but since I can't write just a few hundred words this turned into a nine and half page One shot that took several months to write. Its fine its totally fine. Divider used is by @saradika As always I hope you enjoy reading!

The first thing Obi-Wan was aware of was the warmth washing over his face, and flooding his eye lids with the glow of mid morning light. Keeping his eyes closed he rolled over and reached for Sas to bury his face in the crook of her neck. However, where he had thought to find the soft sleeping form of his wife, Obi-Wan's hand spread over a cool and empty bedside. He blinked his eyes open confirming again that his bedside was empty. He felt his chest tighten  as his mind very quickly came up with the worst possible scenarios. Each thought grew more intense than the last. He clutched the sheets trying to force the thought away that he'd open his eyes to find himself alone on some desolate backwater planet.

“Oops too hot-” a woman's voice exclaimed from another room.

 The war ended five years ago and yet it still had a tight grip on his psyche. He supposed that was something that would never really go away. He would feel the effects as time marched on. That of course went without saying, he had enough physical markers from the war littered over his body. He had a lifetime to think about that though, and he would prefer to focus on the sounds drifting through the house and the open door to the bedroom.

Rolling over onto his back, Obi-Wan looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom and took a few deep breaths to still his mind and calm his racing heart. He just needed a minute to ground himself in this moment, to remind himself that the war was over, his fight was done, they won. He had chosen to live the rest of his life for himself, or at least as much of himself as he could imagine without feeling selfish. He folded his hands on his stomach and took another deep breath as he focused on the sizzling sounds from the kitchen, the warmth of the sunlight streaming in from the window, the light weight of the blanket against his bare torso, and the soft sound of Sas’ humming as she moved around the kitchen. 

“Ow kriff!” 

 That was his cue to get up. 

Loud sizzling filled the hallway. Sas must have been rushing in the kitchen again.

Rolling out of bed, Obi-Wan decided that it was time to spoil the surprise Sas had for him. It wouldn’t be the first time and he preferred to spend the morning with her rather than laying around waiting. Being with her every morning was a much better surprise than bringing food into their bedroom. 

During the war he didn’t dare to entertain the idea that he could spend his life with the woman he loved, at least not in the way one would normally think of. Sas herself had kept a strict rule of never talking about a future together, not because she didn’t want it, but moreso because neither could imagine a life that didn’t involve one of them, if not both of them, giving their life to the war cause. Yet, by some grace of the Force, the war ended, Sas was no longer fighting to prevent civil war on her planet, there was an active effort to negotiate and find compassion between the systems that were at war. He supposed it helped that one man responsible for playing both sides and was responsible for a good portion of their problems, but still there was room for growth and reflection on the part of the Republic.

This left room for Obi-Wan to focus on other things for the time being. Things that didn’t have to do with the state and well being of the galaxy. He married Sas. She was his wife. Five years passed and the little rush that fluttered in his stomach hadn’t subsided whenever he thought of her as his wife. He was still a Jedi in all ways but title, but he understood why the Jedi had their rules about attachment. He had to choose, and this time he chose a life for himself. 

The way Obi-Wan understood things, was that the Force laid two path’s before him. There wasn’t one right or wrong answer, but he had to trust the Force to guide him along both. He had expected the long hours of meditation as he considered the life he would lead going forward. He expected questions and concerns once he had made his final choice. What he hadn’t expected so much compassion upon his leaving. That Sas would encourage him to stay with the Order, that his Jedi family was so understanding of his need to leave and encouraged him to visit and return should he ever need guidance. He didn’t consider himself a person who dwelled too long on the past, or stress too often about the future, but the life he currently led, wasn’t one had ever imagined he would have. He felt at peace with his choices, and there was peace in his heart.

He paused by the doorway to Jinn’s bedroom, the window curtains drawn open to the Naboo countryside painted orange by the rising sun. Obi-Wan watched the little lump still sleeping soundly under a pile of blankets. Again he found himself wondering how five years ago, he, Sas and Anakin had been fighting for their lives in trenches of the Outer Rim Sieges. After all of that, why didn’t he  deserve to have this peace in his life? He supposed he wasn’t being completely fair, they volunteered their very lives for a manufactured war, and only just managed to put an end to it before it was too late. Obi-Wan’s children would have the chance to live a quiet life he nor his wife had never known.  This absolutely included not having to wake up before the sun rose to meditate. Jinn would get to sleep in a little longer.

“Good morning, My Dear,” Obi-Wan greeted as he came up behind Sas. Before she could turn around he wrapped one arm around her middle, and the other hand gilded slowly over the large swell of her belly. “You’re up early ,” he observed , placing a light kiss against her emerald colored neck as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“I had to pee,” she sighed honestly as she placed a hand over his own on her stomach. He slowly rubbed her hand over it, as if to soothe the fussy child giving his wife a hard time. “Our little one was being extra pushy, squishing my bladder, and demanding I be up early. Thought we might surprise you, but I should know better than to try that by now. The good news is I just finished the bacon, so if you distract me, we won’t almost burn the house down.”

“Darling, are you still trying to pin the blame on me?” he teased, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “I cannot help it if you are so easily distracted,” he nuzzled into the crook of her neck and felt her shiver in his hold despite the mild morning.

“I told you, I’m going to have to change your nickname from Pretty Boy to The Arsonist. It’s almost like you want me to burn down our house.”

“Oh no, I just want you,” He said with a kiss to her cheek this time. Without her tattoos painted on, Obi-Wan could have sworn he saw some color rise in her face. Pink patches had yet to appear on her neck or shoulder, but he could see her cheeks turning a slightly deeper green.

"Hmm you can have me, in… hold on, seven months in… two months! Actually four and I'm all yours again."

“Four months?”

“Two months until I can deliver the baby, and then another two months for us, mostly me, to catch up on sleep after” She gestured vaguely with her free hand and closed her eyes with a sigh. “On second thought we’re going to need a lot more than two months. You know I think I slept more during the war.”

“You said you wanted another,” He reminded her with a kiss to her forehead.

“You were supposed to remind me that I didn’t like being pregnant last time. That my back hurt, I hated feeling sick, and I hated waddling back and forth everywhere-”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I did remind you of all that, and what did you say?”

Sas grew quiet for a moment, reconsidering her life choices. She stopped his slow circles by weaving her fingers with his own and humming to herself. “I said I’d be fine.”

“That is not what you said.”

“Yes it is!”

“In those exact words?

“More or less…” She started, and this time Obi-Wan could see the deep green flush across her cheeks and a little pink patch bloomed where his breath whispered over her neck. “But,” Sas continued, before he could properly remind her of her exact wording, “I knew things would be fine, if you were with me. So long as I didn’t face the diaper wars alone, I thought I would be okay, and I was mostly right.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan asked, a small amused smile playing on his lips. Nuzzling the small pink patch, he found himself pleased with her reaction. He had her flustered already, but that didn’t mean he was about to let up. For as long as they had known each other it still felt rare for her to stumble over her words like she was now.

“It means I was mostly right.” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Then what were you wrong about?” 

“That there was nothing in the galaxy that could make me happier in that moment.” She reached one hand back and up to guide his lips to her own. 

His eyes slid close as he let himself melt into the kiss. Though brief, he felt her warmth in the Force radiating like the early morning sun rising outside the kitchen window. He was more than happy to bask in her light for the rest of his life. He held her close as she leaned back into him. As he pulled away he placed one last kiss to her forehead, “I love you, Sas,” he breathed against her skin.

“I love you too.”

For a moment Obi-Wan just held his wife, letting her sink into him, and slowly swaying with her. Nothing Obi-Wan could have imagined included a reality where he spent his mornings this way. He just needed a few moments to be present with Sas, to hold on to the lightness he felt in his chest, and be thankful for things working out the way that they had. He took a deep breath.

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” Sas murmured, her hand rubbing up his arm.

Obi-Wan just hummed thoughtfully in answer. “Indeed we do, might as well enjoy the quiet while we can.”

"Lots of fireworks, lots of people- And we're only on Naboo, can you imagine Coruscant?"

"I can picture it too clearly. Thankfully Padmé and Anakin are staying in Theed this year, so we don't have to go to Coruscant, like Rex and Fives."

"I didn’t tell you? Pyrrha and Jankari invited us too-" Sas laughed.

 Obi-Wan just hid his face in her neck. He loved returning to the temple but not during Treaty Week. Theed was overwhelming enough, since they were always with Padmé and Anakin, but Coruscant was too much. The temple was still his home, but his home was always swarmed with holonet reporters, during this specific week. Part of why he and Sas stayed in the Naboo Lake country was because it was so far away from it all. They would visit the temple after the festivities died down.

That and somehow in the last five years they'd managed to adopt two full grown Veractyl but that was a different matter altogether. 

“I was about to say at least there aren’t any statues of you in Theed, but well they're just of a younger you." Obi-Wan felt himself momentarily deflate, and earned a laugh from his wife as consolation. "Lucky for us then, I said that it was their turn to have Coruscant to themselves. We get to blend in the background this time on Theed.” She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Luke and Leia will be very happy to see you and Jinn- Oh! Can you check on Jinn? He was up helping me earlier, but went back to his room once I started making the bacon. He said he had a nightmare about Boga being scared of the fireworks.”

Obi-Wan blinked a few times trying to process the several shifts in conversation. “I just looked in on him, he was still asleep.”

“Maybe he went back to sleep. He did say he was going to try to have another dream.”

He pursed his lips with a small nod. While Obi-Wan always felt that his son had a connection to the Force, he was also a little wary about his emerging abilities. This was usually why morning meditations weren’t something that they normally skipped. Dreams were rarely just dreams. More often than not, they offered a vision of things that could happen or offered insight to what someone was feeling. Jedi Order or not, both Sas and Obi-Wan felt it was important for their children to learn to connect with the Force. 

“I’ll check on him. Boga might not be the only one scared of the fireworks,” he said, before gently squeezing his wife in his arms one last time before going back up the hall to their son’s room.

“Jinn,” Obi-Wan called softly as he entered his son’s room. “Jinn, are you awake?” Even as Obi-Wan sat on the bed, as he had done many times, something felt off. He expected to feel some sort of weight move or shift once he sat down but there was nothing. Obi-Wan reached a hand toward the lump huddled under the blankets. “Mama said you had a dream?”

 He reached for Jinn’s shoulder, only for his hand to sink into something soft and plushy. He gave a gentle squeeze expecting his hand to meet some resistance in his son’s shoulder. Instead, the lump gave way under his fingers. He felt his heart rate pick up. Obi-Wan’s brows furrowed as he quickly patted down the rest of the lump, only to be met with the same plushy give. He pulled back the blanket only to find pillows and a stuffed bantha and veractyl lined neatly under the sheets.

"Sas? How long ago did Jinn go back to bed?" He was already jogging back down the hall, his heart threatening to burst in his chest. The line of boots in the doorway was already missing its smallest pair.

"Just a few minutes before you got up, Love- What's wrong?" Sas asked from where she was setting the food on the table. “Obi-Wan?” She called after him.

Obi-Wan was already moving out the door, shirtless and missing his shoes.

There was only one place that Jinn would have gone to.

The veractyl stables.

Jinn’s path down to the barn was still visible in the dew-covered grass. Though a little windy, like he got distracted by something, Obi-Wan  could clearly see the end of the trail leading up to the barn doors. Obi-Wan did his best not slip as he sprinted for the door, the chirps and whistles of the veractyls getting louder the closer he got.

Then came his son’s voice crying out over the noise.

“Jinn!” He called as he threw open the doors. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he quickly scanned the room for his son. 

A loud clatter of a beam rang through the barn, followed by the squeals of laughter. 

“Dada! Help!” a little voice called.

Before Obi-Wan could find where exactly the voice came from, something rammed into the back of his knee, sending him tumbling toward the ground. Little hands clutched at him only finding grip on the waistband of his pants.

“Hey wait a minute-`” he exclaimed, turning to fend off the little hands from accidentally pulling down his pants only to fall over onto his butt, much the same way Jinn used to when he was learning to walk. Before Obi-Wan could fully process how he ended up on the ground, tiny arms wrapped around his neck in a firm hug, and two small Veractyls, one violet and one green and teal, came charging up to him, their tails swishing excitedly as their bodies wiggled with each step. He put out his hands trying to keep the creatures from jumping on him only to have the arms squeeze him tighter. If he could breathe, he would have been laughing at the little veractyls trying to dodge around his arms. It was as if someone were pulling them on some invisible strings.

“Jinn baby, we don’t hug that way remember,” Sas’ voice called from the doorway.

Immediately the arms loosened their hold, and air rushed into Obi-Wan’s lungs. In that same moment he managed to stop the little creatures by letting them run their heads into the palms of his hands. “Settle down,” he breathed between laughs, but they only scrambled harder on the dirt floor trying to get around his hands, their loud chirps of protest rang out through the barn. With a deep breath and wishing for them to calm down, their wiggles slowed before they settled beside him and nosed their way under his arms.

“Sorry Mama,” Jinn said, as his mother came more into the barn. 

“Not to me-”

“Sorry Papa,” Jinn said, moving to stand in front of Obi-Wan and holding out his arms to him, as if asking for a hug this time. His dark hair was standing at unnaturally odd ends, and had straw sticking out of it. The banthas trudging along Jinn’s pajama bottoms looked like they were trying to escape being tucked into his little rubber boots. Clearly the five year old had been prepared to be out in the stable for a while. 

“Thank you for apologizing, Jinn,” he answered, hesitantly lifting his arms from creatures at his side before his son crashed into him. “You are forgiven, just be a little careful next time.” He held his son close, one hand cradling the back of his head as he kissed his forehead. 

“Or you’ll turn blue?”

Obi-Wan shook his head with a breathy laugh. “Yes, if I’m changing colors then something is wrong. Luckily, that won’t be happening any time soon.” 

“Maka is blue,” Jinn stated as he untangled himself from Obi-Wan, sat in his lap and motioned for the small teal veractyl to come closer to him. She chirped happily and curled up between Obi-Wan’s legs.

For a brief moment Obi-Wan held his son and  just watched as Jinn gently smooth out the wispy feathers along her head. Maka’s large eyes slowly closed with each pass of his little hand until she had her head in the child’s lap on the verge of sleep. “Ow!” Gia, her sister, nipped her beak sharply at Obi-Wan’s fingers, clearly displeased that she was not getting nearly as much attention. “Alright, girl, I’m sorry,” he sighed using his free hand to gently run his hands over the smooth violet scales along her side. She gave a few sassy chirps before wiggling away and following after Sas as she walked further into the stable.

From her pen, Boga chirped at her little one as if to tell her not to ram into the back of Sas’ legs like she had done to himself. Gia, instead continued to chirp and zip between Sas and looking like she might pounce on Jinn if he looked up from Maka. After a few laps, and one more warning from Boga, she settled back in next to Obi-Wan’s hip with a small huff. “There, there Gia,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing the smooth scales of her belly. “Maybe next time don’t try to knock me to the ground.” 

Further into the stable, Obi-Wan watched as Sas made her way to Boga and ran her hand over her beak. He couldn’t hear what his wife was saying to the dragonmount, but the low chirps that came from Boga were unmistakably happy. She nudged her beak against Sas’ chest who laughed and rubbed down the dragonmount’s neck again. 

“Papa? What are you smiling at?” Jinn asked, turning his blue eyes up toward him.

Obi-Wan hadn’t realized he was smiling at all. Truthfully he was just finding himself awestruck again by the turns his life had taken to get to this point. Of course he couldn’t exactly explain all that to his five year old. If it was overwhelming for him to think about surely it would be overwhelming for his son. But maybe it wasn’t he didn’t have to know the why after all. “I’m watching your mother talk to Boga and-”

“Why?”

Okay he should have known that was coming. “She makes me happy, just like you do.” Obi-Wan lifted his hand from Gia and offered it to Jinn. Despite having done this numerous times, Obi-Wan felt a flutter in his chest when his son placed his palm over his. “Take a deep breath,” he said before doing the same and taking a moment to close his eyes. He smiled feeling Jinn lean back against him as they both breathed out, but in his mind he could see Sas embracing Boga again, Jinn running after him with the veractyl hatchlings. Another deep breath and Obi-Wan felt the warmth of his family wash over him. No matter what he had been through before, this was his place now, and there was nowhere he would rather be. 

“You and Mama feel like sunlight,” Jinn said as he reached his other hand out to Sas as she walked by. 

“Do we now?” she asked, swinging his hand and ruffling both Jinn and Obi-Wan’s hair. There was something in the way the sunlight danced off Sas’ hair that briefly had him mesmerized. He could see the first few strands of silver hair burning orange in light, the faintest hint of smile lines around her eyes and corners of her lips. She was beautiful, she always was, but somehow in that moment the last eight years of their lives felt more real and weighted. A lifetime of fighting, years of war, and somehow they’d survived it, earned their smile lines and slivers of grey alongside their scars and faded wounds.

“Mama, he’s being silly again,” Jinn’s voice pulled Obi-Wan back to the present. “Oh he’s always being silly,” Sas assured him. “Thats why he came out without his shirt and shoes.”  As if on cue, both Gia and Maka pounced at Obi-Wan’s feet, much to Jinn’s delight. 

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he said, trying to keep Jinn from falling and keep his feet away from the veractyls. 

A louder chirp came from the far side of the stables and Gia and Maka scrambled away to their mother. Boga nudged them a few times with her beak, playfully pushing them back as they tried to jump on her, their little legs seeming to flail about with each jump.

“I was just in a hurry,” Obi-Wan said after a few moments. 

Sas just hummed in answer and gave Jinn a knowing look, like the two of them were sharing some kind of secret. She then focused on Obi-Wan. “Well, lucky for you, I brought them out to you. Can’t have Gia and Maka clawing you all up right?”  Sas said with a wink as she handed him a dark blue shirt. He didn’t need the force to know there was something more she wanted to say, he could practically feel it rippling off of her. Thankfully she let her grin speak for her thoughts, but he still felt heat rising in his face and ears. 

He looked away for a moment as he pulled on his shirt. “Thank you, Darling, I’m lucky to have you looking out for me.”

“You’re welcome,” she said leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I’m going to finish up breakfast, you two should come back in soon,” she added after kissing Jinn’s head as well. “Crix and Marker will be here soon to load up the speeder, and we still have to finish packing-”

“Sas, Darling?” Obi-Wan said, taking her hand.

“Yes?”

“We’re going to be okay.” He pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Its only two nights we’re staying there.”  He pressed one more to her knuckles. He saw the tension in her shoulders slowly  leave as she took a deep breath and let his reminder sink in.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” she said, giving his hand a small squeeze before making her way back up to their home. 

Jinn had been watching his parents the whole time, and though Obi-Wan knew his son absorbed things like a sponge and was always watching them closely, he found himself surprised by his look of distaste. His nose held little wrinkles and his brows furrowed together. Sas had always said Obi-Wan made a distinct face when he was thinking really hard, he hadn’t fully realized what kind of face that was until he saw Jinn making the same one.

“Something bothering you, son?”

“Mama didn’t listen to Boga. She told her I couldn’t go.”

“Boga said you can’t go to Theed with us?” In all honesty between almost losing his pants and being tackled by his son and the veractyl, Obi-Wan had forgotten to ask why Jinn had come outside in the first place.

“I had a dream about her getting scared of the fireworks. She’s afraid of the big ones. They’re too loud.” Jinn kept his eyes fixed on the open doorway where Boga, Maka, and Gia left the stable.

“Is that why you came outside?” Obi-Wan rubbed his back slowly, while Jinn’s little hands twisted the hem of his shirt. “Why don’t we go for a walk and you can tell me about your dream,” Obi-Wan offered. 

Jinn again wrinkled his nose, before looking up at his father before really taking a moment to think about it.

“Or at the very least you can tell me why your stuffies were hiding under your blankets pretending to be you.”

A mischievous giggle bubbled up from Jinn in answer, his eyes crinkling around the corners much like his mother’s when she was up to something. “They were cold.”

“Mhmm I’m sure they were, they looked very comfortable under your blankets.”

Jinn only giggled more, but held his arms up to be carried, finally accepting Obi-Wan’s offer. 

After a brief moment of Obi-Wan having to wrestle his boots away from his son, he finally had his shoes on, and walked out of the stable holding him.

“Boga!” Jinn cried, as the dragonmount playfully rolled over in the field, while Maka and Gia leaped over onto her. Their loud chirps and whistles rang across the field as they moved closer to the edge of the lake where another large, though not larger than Boga, violet veractyl, Agob was waiting for them.

For a brief moment Obi-Wan was abruptly reminded about all the precautions he would have to take housing Boga and Agob to ensure that they would lead to an invasive species issue on Naboo. That he had Sas even had to before the Queen and her advisors to get permission to house the dragonmounts. He might need to update them on some other precautions given Maka and Gia, but for the time being everything was still fine and manageable.

“Boga said I can’t go to the festival today or tomorrow.” Jinn said, breaking the silence.

“You said you had a dream that she was scared, right?”

“The big fireworks scared her,” Jinn said with a nod. “They’re  loud…” Again his face got that scrunched up thoughtful look. Like he wasn’t sure what to say, despite having more to say. “She got scared in the barn, and there was no one to help her.”

Obi-Wan nodded, wanting to take his son’s vision very seriously. While Obi-Wan was certain that Boga would in fact be frightened by loud sounds like fireworks, he got the feeling that Jinn’s dream wasn’t really about Boga. “Boga isn’t going to the festival though, she’s staying here, and no one here will be doing any sort of fireworks. Did she tell you why you can’t go?” 

“She said-” he giggled again, as Gia overestimated her leap, threw herself too far over her mother and tumbled to the ground. “She said I have to protect her from the big booms”

Obi-Wan nodded, “She will be perfectly safe here away from all the fireworks. But are you worried about them?”

Jinn nodded slowly. “They’re too loud and make my brain funny.”

“Can you tell me how they make your brain funny?” For a moment Obi-Wan was dragged away from his peaceful life on Naboo to back to the Clone Wars. The sound of an explosion and a firework weren’t all that different. Five years had passed, and though Obi-Wan never fully let down his guard, he had done his best to let go of his anxiety. Sas had too, but even she still jumped or gave his hand an extra squeeze at each burst.

“My ears get full, but the fireworks are so pretty. I like the colors.”

“The colors are very nice.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I might have a way for you to just watch them, without it being too loud.” Obi-Wan felt something unclench in his chest as Jinn’s eyes widened and he looked up excitedly.  

“Really?” he asked. At Obi-Wan’s nod however, his brows furrowed low over his eyes. “What about Boga?”

“Hmm, can you tell me where you and Boga were in your dream?”

“We were in Theed…but she’s not going to Theed.”

“So do we need to worry about that part of your dream?”

A large smile broke out on his face. “No! And Gia said she’d protect her-”

“Well good. Let's go back inside to eat. I can feel Mama watching us through the window.”

“Mama’s blowing kisses,” Jinn giggled.

“We best not keep her waiting then.”

Obi-Wan leaned against the balcony railing watching the parade dance by below. Hundreds of people marched by, waving flags and color costumes, some even had some lights that made the whole street glow. Despite the cheering, and confetti, and lights and music, the energy flowing through the streets was nothing compared to the energy radiating off of the three children running zipping and dashing in and around the balcony trying to watch the parade between the pillars holding up the railing.

While admittedly Obi-Wan was on his third cup of caff to keep up with Luke, Leia and Jinn, he was happy to hear them laughing and playing.

“Uncle Obi!” Leia exclaimed, pulling on the sleeve of his tunic. “They’re coming they’re coming!” “I wanna see!” Luke cried, trying to climb up his side to see over the bannister.

“Hold on-” Obi-Wan said, doing his best not to let either of the children get too close to the railing. Wrangling the veractyls had seemed easier than wrangling Skywalker children. “Take a seat over here,” he said, leading them to a spot on the balcony that had a clear view of the streets, and the float Padmè would be on. He kept the twins in front of him, one hand on each shoulder, wanting to make sure that neither of them got any ideas about trying to lean between the columns.

“Did we miss them?” Sas asked from behind, holding Jinn’s hand as they walked out on the balcony.

“Not yet.” Immediately after Obi-Wan answered her, a flash of blue light washed over the courtyard, and the figures of Padmè Amidala, and Anakin Skywalker were projected over the heads of the people.

Luke and Leia erupted into cheers with the rest of the crowd, but the holoimage of Anakin seemed to look directly at them and give them a wide grin and a wave. Padmè followed suit, but then turned her attention to the crowd of people.

“Five years ago the Republic was engaged in a civil war…” she started. In all honesty, Obi-Wan wasn’t really listening to his friend’s speech. He had heard Padmè practicing it in the background of holo calls with Anakin. Instead, he found his attention drawn to the crowds moved by Padmè’s words, just like they are every year. Just moments before they had been cheering and dancing, now they stood listening in awe. Leia and Luke looked on, washed in the same blue light, with a mixture of pride and admiration in their eyes. “Together we can continue to rebuild relationships, and forge new connections to make a better galaxy.”

The moment she ended her speech the sky erupted in a burst of colors. Blues, pinks and purples littered the sky as the firework show began. Below the crowd exploded into cheers, but at his side, Sas held Jinn to her side as he looked to the sky wide eyed.In his ears, Jinn wore small ear pieces to block out the majority of the sound. He wiggled in his mother’s arms before moving next to Luke and Leia. Obi-Wan reached out and pulled Sas against his side before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“You missed,” She teased as she reached a hand up to guide his attention to her.

“I never miss. I just like to hear you ask for another,” he teased, kissing her palm on his cheek, and then pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he said softly, though he quickly remembered she couldn’t hear him over the noise of the fireworks or her own ear plugs.

Still, just smiled and mouthed the words, “Love you, too,” before resting her head against his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers when he felt her put her own arm around him and closed his eyes, letting the colors of the fireworks dance behind his lids. He took a deep breath, soaking in the moment, and slowly let out his breath. When he opened his eyes, Jinn and the twins were still laughing and watching the light show above, the woman he loved was content in his arms, and there was peace in his heart.

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[corellianhounds]

Amidala the Resilient

Media: Revenge of the Sith

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,942

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, pregnancy, Force-choking, blood and injuries, traumatic labor and delivery, death in childbirth, no happy ending.

Art Credit: Iain McCaig, The Art of Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

Summary: In a universe where Anakin gradually descended into the Dark side of his own volition from the beginning— where his ambition and love were genuine and admirable, but the temptation of power too much— his turn is something much more destructive and purposeful. Amidala’s plan for retaliation is just as much so.

Padmé Amidala can feel tension twinging in her back and thighs. The pit in her stomach has coalesced into a tight knot as she steels herself for what she must do; she’s bringing a mattock and salt to the ground where pruning shears should have been used long ago.

Anakin had been too far gone for a long time, and the fault lay in her and everyone in his life willingly turning a blind eye too often to his myriad of faults. In the past two hours she has seen actions the result of which came from an upbringing where his temper, jealousy, and ambition were allowed to slide because those who thought him destined for some great cosmic good were willing to overlook occasional— and often objectively justified— acts of wrath and ruthlessness. He had always been so good at justifying his reasons and putting his actions in a more favorable light, showing enough willingness for correction over the years people thought he was receptive to guidance and change.

What she’d come to realize with dawning horror was that the seeds of destruction had been sown long ago, and though the vines had borne occasional good fruit, they had always grown with selfish intent, inevitably choking out everything around them in an effort to keep his own desires hidden behind the barrier of thorns.

In the next hour, she will come face to face with the monster of a man he’s become.

The Jedi master doesn’t know. Kenobi knows she has some plan but wrongfully assumes it is to appeal to whatever mistaken shred of humanity might remain in Anakin. Obi-Wan— even now, even after what they saw— cares for him as a brother and would sooner cut off his own hand than see Anakin completely lost to the Dark. Padmé however has finally seen clarity of purpose.

For Anakin to be stopped, he must be killed.

The ship arrives on Mustafar. Padmé wrenches herself away from the viewport as Obi-Wan lands and she gingerly lowers herself to the cargo hold, donning a cloak. Obi-Wan hurriedly finishes the landing cycle, calling her name as she gathers her strength, but she’s hardly listening to him at this point and she knows she must conceal herself from him so he has no chance of stopping her.

A hand on her shoulder makes her flinch, and the Jedi lets go almost in surprise. “Padmé, you don’t have to do this. I will talk to him.”

“No,” she says, keeping her left hand secured across her waist beneath the voluminous sleeve as she cleared a path to the lowering gangway. “He’s made it very clear he’s past the point of reasoning with the Jedi. I will speak with him, and if I cannot convince him to come with us calmly, or I cannot ascertain his next move, I expect you to do what’s necessary to end this treasonous rebellion. That is an order.”

It was all false diplomacy, of course, for his sake. Padmé had no intention of believing Anakin was anywhere close to the realm of negotiation. They were far past that.

But she needed assurance that she could get close enough to Anakin to act decisively. She couldn’t have Kenobi interfering, not at this juncture.

Oppressive heat surrounded her as she swept down the ramp to the barren ground. Magma roiled and churned, flames flickering at the edge of the peninsula as Padmé approached the figure so cloaked in darkness an aura of blackened energy almost seemed to emanate from his form. The grip of the hidden dagger dug into her hand, grounding her as she approached.

Padmé’s eyes burned with a ferocity to match her husband’s. It was time for this to end.

When Obi-Wan had seen her determination in the hold of the ship he had never for a moment anticipated what it would lead to.

Padmé steadily approached Anakin, cloak and hood protecting her from the blaze. He could see her speaking forcefully with him, her face hidden from view but Anakin’s darkening by the moment in response. His right hand, devoid of glove, clenched the hilt of an already ignited saber, the bloodshine blade standing in stark contrast to his own cloak. Its presence alone was alarming, but Obi-Wan had been subject to so many tragedies that night already, he merely assumed Anakin had readied it in the expectation of facing his master.

What Obi-Wan hadn’t known was what Padmé concealed until she tried to close the distance between them, her own blade in hand. What followed happened in the span of a heartbeat.

Anakin’s saber blocked it on instinct, easily halting the approach of Padmé’s dagger, his eyes widening in surprise. In the following moment his left hand raised and with it, so did Padmé.

Obi-Wan’s astonishment lasted only a fraction of a second as he yelled “NO!” Padmé’s feet left the ground as an invisible force clutched her neck in a crushing, intangible grip, and in the breadth of time Padmé scrabbled at her throat, Obi-Wan acted.

Anakin stumbled back from the force of the bolt hitting his shoulder, releasing his hold on Padmé. Padmé crumpled to the ground in a heap, and Anakin’s sights zeroed in on Kenobi, standing at the mouth of the ship with both blaster and lightsaber in hand. Snarling, Anakin stalked towards his old master and brought his lightsaber down, red clashing against blue.

Padmé Amidala, heartbroken and dying, drags herself bleeding to the communication console.

Kenobi can hear her movement in the bay and yells her name, telling her not to move, that he’ll come to help her as soon as the ship breaches the atmosphere, and she stalwartly ignores him, cradling the underside of her belly with one hand and using the other to support herself on the railing around the sparse artillery deck. Her broken ankle protests at every movement, sending lightning arcing up the leg where she puts her unsteady weight. The cramps in her abdomen spread like bone-coral, sharp and hot and agonizing in her pelvis, sides, back— Every tendon and muscle in her body screams at their owner to relent, to succumb to the creeping darkness pressing around her vision, but she cannot allow herself peace until she finishes what she started.

Padmé staggers at the ship’s turbulent acceleration, her forearm slamming out against the bulkhead as the lights flicker, and she curses the unsteady pilot she thought was her friend. Perhaps if she’d been accompanied by someone more decisive, someone whose fatal flaw wasn’t a love too great for a brother that no longer existed, Anakin would have been dealt with and she’d have the wherewithal to fight against the added pain of a labor she was sure would tear her in two.

Sweat pours from her brow and forces her already shaking, slippery hands to scrabble for purchase on the blasted polished finery of a spoiled noble’s ship. Her muscles spasm and she gasps in abject terror as she feels something inside her snap; the membrane within her had ruptured.

Gravity pulls on her bones as her muscles betray her, and she collapses against the bench. Fingernails scrape vinyl and she chokes out a guttural, rending cry of pain in the effort it takes to haul herself upward into the seat.

Obi-Wan is yelling again. Traitorous coward.

Padmé punches in the covert frequency on the transmitter. Her other hand rests on her stomach, her infants moving restlessly under her touch. She forces the hot flashes of pain back, shoving down every instinctive response to curl in on herself.

“Sabé—,” she says into the comm, gritting her teeth and tasting blood once more; the contractions were stronger and with a strangled grunt she yanks the comm closer, ignoring the frantic waves of worry rolling off of the useless Jedi in the pilot’s seat.

“Sabé, if you find the man who was my husband,” she chokes, the creeping black at the edges of her vision beginning to overtake her.

“Kill him.”

Obi-Wan sat listlessly on a bench in the hold, what bloodied clothing he still wore sticking to him like a second skin. His hand rested on the makeshift bassinet, a gun locker repurposed into a cradle.

He could only imagine what directive she’d felt necessary enough to strain herself to get across the sublight waves; he could only imagine because the message was encrypted and the recipient unknown, and her mind had been shielded from his probing. He didn’t know whether to blame his failed use of the Force on the heartbroken, distracted nature of his psyche being pulled in a thousand directions as he’d manually flown from Mustafar’s orbital pull in order to make the jump to lightspeed, or to blame some unknown energy stalwartly blocking him from Padmé’s mind. Reaching out to her had felt like hitting a steel wall.

The tumult of their departure had preoccupied him until he was sure he’d escaped whatever enemy fighters Anakin’s new master had sent after them, the maneuvering less of a dogfight and more of a half-cocked evasive prayer for the hull to remain intact long enough for them to break atmo. Klaxons blared and the astronav’s interface barked orders, warning him of too many systems he already knew were damaged enough that if they took even one more hit to the hull they would be obliterated; shields were failing, exterior panelling being shorn off, the pursuing fighters gaining on them— Until by some stroke of luck he’d found a slip in space to pull through and immediately jump to lightspeed.

Lightspeed jumps themselves were already hazardous to expecting parents’ health. He was terrified of the condition she had been in when he’d finally gotten her onboard, and the fact he could sense her moving with purpose somewhere below decks while he tried to shake the fighters had sent his heart rate skyrocketing.

Piloting had never been his forte. As soon as they’d hit hyperspace he’d slammed a hand against the autopilot controls and bolted from the dash, scrambling down to the hold below.

He swore under his breath, calling her name and skidding to a halt beside her. Her face twisted in agony, her hands clutching the underside of her abdomen. Obi-Wan knelt beside her, hesitant to move her and instead ran a quick check over her vitals, astonished at what he found.

Broken bones in her leg, fractured ribs, internal bleeding, damaged trachea— how had she even moved?! By all rights she should be dead and yet something had propped her up long enough for her to drag herself to the terminal and send a message.

And now she was in labor.

“Kenobi—” she spat derisively, grabbing his tunic. “Get— up—”

“Padmé, hold still, let me—”

He was cut off as a violent shudder wracked her body, her limbs curling in on herself with a gurgling cry. Panicked desperation lanced through him as he reached out and grasped tendrils of the Force, gingerly cradling her neck and attempting to delicately, swiftly mend ligaments he couldn’t see. If he was even a millimeter incorrect, she would die.

A misaligned vertebrae shifted back into place, and Padmé screamed.

Obi-Wan bit back a sob, carefully tracing his fingers on either side of the back of her neck with as much force as he dared in an attempt to still her and provide what pain relief he could as his own energy was leached from him. Padmé gasped, her eyes flying open, her expression stricken as she looked up at the ceiling. Her iron grip loosened as the tension dissipated, if only in one area. She gulped air as if coming up from the bottom of a lake, and Obi-Wan settled as he felt his strength wane. A concrete task was better than guesswork at unknown variables.

The reprieve didn’t last long; Padmé grunted in pain, convulsing as a contraction rippled through her torso again. Further assessment revealed her leggings and the floor beneath her to be drenched, and Obi-Wan’s panic flared again.

“I have to get you up—”

“If you move me I will kill you,” she spat harshly. She trembled despite the ferocity of her glare, her hand still twisted in his robe. “There is no time— Here and now, Kenobi. Make do.”

“Padmé—”

“Look around you,” she seethed. “There’s no level surface in this blasted ship big enough to work. There are no other choices. There is no one else to help. Sleeves up. Now.”

Kenobi’s brow remained twisted as he stripped off his outer tunic, knowing it was laden with silicate and volcanic dust. Padmé propped herself up on her elbows as he raced to scour his hands and forearms, coming back to remove her boots so he could work her outer garments free. Whether the blood seeping between her teeth was due to the injuries she’d sustained or because she was gritting them hard enough one had cracked, he didn’t know.

Padmé gasped again as the fracture in her shin shifted— He wanted to settle her, to fix this, but the contractions were coming more quickly and closer together. They were running out of time.

He finally seated himself before her, kneeling and shaking in just his undershirt and trousers, feeling acutely unprepared for what was to come. Battlefield triage and casualty care were the extent of his healing knowledge, and though he was adept at relieving or numbing acute nociceptive responses, it was usually with soldiers whose minds were open for him to assess areas of injury. A commander with a blaster burn would be focused on the point where his plastoid hadn’t covered. A civilian’s attention after suffering a fall would be turned to the joints and bones that took the brunt of the effects of gravity.

Labor and delivery were far too different from his experience in the medical field.

And Padmé was still blocking him out.

Her knuckles gripped bone-white to a ridge of floor plating, one knee bent and her foot planted flat. The other lay weakly to the side, and Obi-Wan grit his teeth as he raised it up to rest over his thigh despite the lancing pain he felt radiating from her, tucking a blanket beneath her and readying his hands for whatever instruction he prayed she could give. With him gathering his wits and her gathering her strength, they set to work.

The whole ordeal couldn’t have lasted longer than thirty minutes, and it was the longest and most arduous process of their lives. Between her strangled cries, his intuition, and the muscle spasms that told him everything about this was wrong, Kenobi’s concern grew with the pool of blood beneath her, and she forced him to focus on the children, refusing to allow him any modicum of time spent healing her injuries between her screams. Untended bone cracked further as she thrashed, her screams echoing back in the cargo hold.

By the time Kenobi had swaddled the two squalling— living!— infants in what sterile dressing he could find from the field kit, Padmé had gone a sickly pale. Her skin was waxy under the recessed halogen lighting, her hair sticking to her forehead. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and different muscle groups continued twitching of their own accord as if sparked by electricity. Obi-Wan was torn between ensuring the infants had been properly cared for, and wanting to drag Padmé to the captain’s berth to fully assess her wounds and heal her: Padmé kept stubbornly shoving him away, tears tracking unnoticed down her face as she continued to choke out instructions for the care and keeping of her children.

He’d finally been forced to stop when that iron grip returned in full force— Padmé grabbed his arm and yanked him down to where she had propped herself up against the wall. Kenobi lurched forward, her ashen face now level with his. She forced her voice to obey despite the strain in her throat, rasping the words she needed to say.

“Keep them away from him.” The venom in her tone was undeniable. “You keep them safe, Kenobi, get— get them as far away as you can—”

Kenobi grunted, refusing to let her continue her orders. He pressed a palm to her chest, willing those wisps of energy to sustain her just a few moments longer as he tried to haul her up into his lap, coax her arm around him so he could lift her— If he could just get her somewhere comfortable, somewhere clean, if he could focus—

Padmé shrieked in pain, clawing at his chest and arms, and the sum of their separate fights came crashing down on him as the Force dissipated from his mind’s grasp. His knees gave out, his strength sapped from the energy he had poured into her, and they lay heavily back against the terminal yet again. The children cried distantly behind them.

“Padmé, please…” Obi-Wan pleaded, tears streaking down his face, but she shook her head yet again.

“Keep them safe,” she coughed, begging for the first time. “Get them away f-from—”

“He’s gone, Padmé, Anakin is gone—”

She shook her head fiercely, squeezing her eyes shut. “No. He’s there. I can feel him.”

“Listen to me— Anakin is dead, I saw him—”

“You’re wrong,” Padmé said. Her breath rattled. Tears dripped from her chin. “If— If you won’t k-kill him then t-take care o-of them. Wh-Whatever it takes.”

Her chest hitched as she gasped around the liquid filling her lungs. Her bloody hand trembled against his neck. She hiccuped, her eyes went glassy, and her hand fell away.

And in the stillness of hyperspace, Padmé Amidala Naberrie passed from one life to the next.

It had been an hour since then. Only an hour since Obi-Wan had had to keep himself from buckling under the weight of his grief, an hour since he’d sobbed on the floor of a ship as one of his oldest and dearest friends died in his arms. The former queen of Naboo, dying in the bloody cargo hold of a stolen ship, her own life stolen from her by the one person the two of them had trusted beyond measure while her infant children cried out for comfort he felt wholly incapable of providing. Obi-Wan wept alongside them, digging his fingers into the cold, unfeeling floor, wanting to scream as the agony of heartbreak threatened to overwhelm him.

So many dead, or lost. There was no solace even in the Force.

But as Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself doing so often in his life, he shoved his feelings down into the furthest recesses of his broken heart, let go of another loved one returned to the Force, and turned himself back to the task at hand.

The infants were asleep now. He’d shakily scrubbed at his face and arms with cold water and spared only enough time under the sanisteam to ensure he was clean enough to handle them before finding a spare undershirt for himself. He fed them, cleaned them up, and held both of them together against his chest as they squirmed, dissatisfied at their situation before accepting their present accommodations and falling asleep. By the ship’s chrono he had roughly two standard hours before the ship was due to drop out of hyperspace.

He sat unseeing in the captain’s berth with the ad hoc bassinet nearby. Padmé was still in the hold; he couldn’t be two places at once, and he couldn’t stay down there with the children.

Something bothered him about the infants in his arms, though. Once the girl had passed from Padmé’s body, it almost seemed like the barrier keeping him from sensing Padmé’s thoughts had broken. He was too drained and scattered to dwell on it as his last moments with her had been focused on her well-being, but despite his utter exhaustion he had a suspicion that had already begun to crystallize under the sheer openness of the twins’ young presences within hyperspace.

It troubled him.

Whatever message she’d sent was evidently received by the people she’d needed it to. Bail Organa met him at the hastily assembled but covert rendezvous, his ensuing shock and horror upon entering the ship’s docking ramp turning to commanding resolve as he followed the trail of destruction to Kenobi’s station. Organa had to shake him from his stupor before Obi-Wan could tell him of Mustafar, of the newly appointed Sith and Padmé’s scheme, and of Padmé’s last words. The senator’s brow furrowed. He knelt next to the Jedi, looking over the sleeping children.

“What of Anakin?”

Obi-Wan shook his head tiredly. “I cannot sense him. I don’t believe Anakin is alive.”

“… Who else did she contact?” Bail asked.

Tears dripped onto Obi-Wan’s shirt. “I don’t know.”

Bail sighed, bringing one hand up to rest on his shoulder. “I am truly sorry, Obi-Wan. For everything.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t respond.

Bail’s team, handpicked and vetted by the senator himself, worked below decks as the men weighed their options. The aftermath of the despotic coup was rippling out and changing by the minute; the Jedi had been slaughtered and scattered, the clones had broken all communication, and the Senate had reached a fever pitch of chaos. Anything that needed to be done had to be done now.

The feeling of loss that bordered on consuming him was one he’d rarely felt in his lifetime as acutely as he did now. The comfort he found in the Force was absent. He’d felt like a ship unmoored when his master was killed. Now it was as though he’d been dropped into the middle of a hurricane.

Bail’s hands were clasped loosely together against his forehead, elbows resting on his knees as he bowed his head in thought. Kenobi could have been a corpse for how still and gaunt he was.

“Obi-Wan…” Bail began. “Are you certain Skywalker is dead?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “I cannot sense him at all.”

Bail was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “… But you, of all people, couldn’t sense what must have been growing within him. Is it at all possible the body of Anakin remains, but the reason you cannot find him is because the man we knew is entirely lost to the Dark?”

A chilling fissure of clarity cut through Obi-Wan’s senses. His reaction told Bail everything he needed to know.

Even if it was only a suspicion, they could not afford to waste time figuring out the emperor’s next move. Anything that could be used to motivate Vader had to be hidden from public knowledge. They couldn’t leave a trace of his past behind.

Bail mulled over his thoughts, then stood, gesturing for Kenobi as his resolve hardened to steel. “Come. We have work to do. We will mourn when we are done.”

Sabé trembled with the effort it took to control her breathing. She stowed her bag behind the seat of the starship and brought the engine to life, moving with purpose as tears streamed unbidden down her face.

The ship rose, coordinates locked in place to meet the others of her gathering retinue. These weren’t the orders of former nobility, of a governing senator— This was the last request of a dying friend, someone whose very existence was woven into her bones. Padmé Amidala’s death would not be in vain.

Sabé looked out beyond the stars, her breathing finding stasis despite the ocean of grief beneath it.

“My hands are yours, Padmé,” she said to herself. “For as long duty compels them.”

She wasn’t going to kill Anakin. Not until he felt every bit of the pain and suffering he deserved.

Notes:

The line “clarity of purpose” comes from Saw Gerrera in the Andor TV show

I wrote Sabé’s line before seeing that one similar was used in one of the books. Good to know I was on the right track with a character I know very little about lol

[gignikinszz]

girls when revenge of the sith [these are two different scenes on the same gdoc set in some post-rots au]

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Star Wars is truly one long story, and between Anakin and Obi-Wan, so much of it is one conversation...

"I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you."

"I am not your failure, Obi-Wan."

...with decades in between.