1,797"You already have, Luke. You were right." Force, his son….his son was beautiful. He hadn't thought that word in so many years, but there was no other way to describe Padme's son. His son. "You were right about me. Tell your sister…" Vader….no, Anakin wished with a painful lurch in his chest that he had been able to see his daughter. Just once. But he could feel his life slipping away, and he knew that wasn't possible. "You were right."
He looked at his son and really saw him for the first time—Luke looked so much like his younger self, with honey golden hair, soulful clear blue eyes, strong jawline... Anakin's chest swelled with pride, pride that only a parent could feel for their child.
It didn't last long. Soon his vision began to fail, his eyes closing. For once though, he didn't feel darkness—not the sort of darkness that came from the Dark Side at least. "Father?" His son called to him. He wanted to open his mouth, to assure Luke that it would be alright, but he didn't have the strength. "I won't leave you…"
But Anakin was gone, his spirit surrounded by the light.
He stood alone, no longer wearing his suit, but instead the traditional robes of a Jedi Master. His throat tightened—he had turned to the light at the end, but could he really view himself as a Jedi? He didn't feel worthy. Not after everything he'd done as Vader….
You are no longer Vader.
Anakin's head whipped around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. He appeared to be alone. Where was he anyway? Everything was white, blindingly white. It wasn't a place that had anything to do with the Dark Side, he could sense that much… but it also didn't feel completely controlled by the Light Side either. It felt like it was more in-between.
Could the Force not decide what to do with his soul?
Suddenly images began to form… his son surrounded by a celebration, their eyes meeting, a wistful smile spreading on his sons lips…. Princess Leia approaching Luke from behind, wrapping her arms around him…
Wait, was Leia his daughter?
Before he could process that possibility fully, Luke was turning to go with her, and the scene was changing…
Images from his past. First as Darth Vader—the killings. The oppression. Anakin wanted to turn away, but he couldn't. He had to face what he'd done. Perhaps this was Judgment. Bitterness and guilt slammed into him, almost knocking the air out of his lungs.
Who better to be judged than he? He deserved whatever punishment was in store for him.
He saw Obi-Wan, saw him as an old man, saw him as they fought on the Death Star. He saw him that horrible night on Mustafar as they fought, lightsabers blazing in the dark. "I have failed you Anakin," Now as an experienced man, Anakin could hear the genuine sorrow and pain in his former Master's voice, "I have failed you."
Then the scene switched.
Then he saw Padme…the betrayal on her face as he choked her the last time he saw her, the pleading in her eyes as she begged him to run away with her, the words he had always wanted her to say leaving her lips, but he hadn't believed her. And he had hurt her. He knew now that she hadn't died by his hand…not directly, at least. She had survived long enough to give birth to their children.
Unless that had been a lie too?
No, That voice came again, She died of a broken heart. She lived long enough to name your children.
The scene changed—this one was not his memory, but it ripped him apart from the inside just as much as his own memories. Padme lay on a cold, steel table in white, her skin pale, her bouncy curls limply framing her face. Obi-Wan stood at her side, where Anakin should have been, begging her to fight. "There is good in him," She whispered, and with a painful lurch Anakin recognized her hope and determination in Luke, "I know there is…still…"
The scene disappeared, and Anakin was left standing in the whiteness, shaking violently.
How had he gone so wrong? He knew the answer, but he still wished with every fiber of his being that he could go back and change it. He should have trusted the Force. He should have listened to Padme. He should have…
But he hadn't. And it had killed his wife's spirit. It had made his children orphans. It had severed his relationship with his best friend and mentor. It had destroyed the freedom of an entire galaxy. It had taken countless lives, and ruined countless more.
He wished he could destroy his own spirit. He wished he could make himself vanish from existence. What good had it been to be the Chosen One? Even if he had fulfilled his destiny in the end by destroying the Emperor, it hadn't saved the ones he'd loved. He didn't deserve to wear the robes of a Jedi. He was no Jedi.
You can do it all over again.
Anakin froze. "What?"
You can choose to start over, in a new world, in a new galaxy, far, far away…you can become the man you could have been.
Anakin opened his mouth and then closed it, unable to speak. What was this voice? Was that even possible? It shouldn't have been possible…
But what if it was?
It could also be a trap. A trap to let him believe he was starting over, and right when he was happiest, he would be ripped back into his misery. It would have been a fitting punishment.
But what if it wasn't? Could he really give that chance, however slim and impossible, up?
Would you like to start over, Anakin Skywalker?
He still wasn't sure he believed it was real. He was still pretty certain this was a trap. But at this point, he had nothing to lose. He was already dead.
Slowly, he nodded, and as quickly as it had come, the whiteness faded to black.
"What do you think of these colors?" Padme Amidala held up a stack of blue sample paint cards for her best friend Mindy to see. Mindy dropped the box she'd been carrying on the kitchen table and glanced at them for a split second before she picked up the box cutter and began slicing through the tape on the box.
"We are not turning this house into a beach house." She said as she began pulling out dishware.
"Why not?" Padme frowned, turning the cards over to look at the colors herself. She had spent almost an hour at Home Depot playing with the virtual color sampler to find these colors.
"Just because we live next to the beach doesn't mean that we actually have to turn our house into a stereotypical beachfront home. Can't we just, I don't know, decorate it completely opposite of a beach? Like maybe we could have a cool Mad Max theme going on."
"Absolutely not," Padme frowned. "Besides, beaches are calming. And I promise I won't make it look cheesy."
"I vote painting the house bright yellow. Or pink."
"Gross!"
"Well you asked for my opinion, and I gave it!" Mindy smirked. Padme knew the shorter woman was teasing her, but it didn't stop Padme from scowling. She wished she would give her a straight answer sometimes.
"Well it's my house, so either way I'm going to do whatever I want with it." When Mindy stuck her tongue out at her, Padme couldn't help but crack a smile. "Seriously though. What colors?"
Mindy rolled her eyes but she still smiled as she pointed out a few color combinations. "Happy?"
"Very."
"Great. Now can you help me with these boxes? This house isn't going to get moved into by itself, you know?" Padme laughed, placing the cards on the granite countertops before helping unpack the kitchen.
Truth be told, Padme didn't care how they decorated her house, so long as it was hers. Her parents were politicians, loaded with money. Although Padme had never been spoiled as a young girl, when she received her Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice at just 22 years old, her parents had purchased a house between Stanford, her school, and the beach as a graduation present. It had been a complete surprise to her—she had saved her own money for her first car, and then for her second car—but she was excited.
The house was three bedrooms, two baths—much too big for just herself. So naturally she invited Mindy to room with her. Mindy was more than happy to move out of cramped, over-priced apartments around campus where wild parties were a nightly occurrence.
Still, Padme wasn't sure what she was going to do with the third room. Work space, perhaps? She was just starting her graduate program at Stanford to become a criminal defense lawyer. There were sure to be plenty of all-night study sessions in the coming years. A quiet study could come in handy. Or she could rent out the room—she was taking a break from her part time job as a receptionist at her dad's office this semester. She could use the extra money.
"Hello, earth to Padme?" Padme snapped back to reality, looking at her best friend. Mindy had been her best friend since freshman year of college after Padme had rescued her from a very awkward encounter with a desperate boy—Mindy had since then 'adopted' Padme as her best friend, and they had been inseparable ever since. With cropped short dark brown hair and dark, sultry eyes that could stop a guy with one look, Mindy was a beauty queen, and she enjoyed going out to flaunt it. Padme herself enjoyed nights in where she could be as casual as she liked, much to Mindy's dismay. "You're thinking about the house again, aren't you?"
"No," Padme blushed, "Okay, yeah, but there's so much to do! We only have a few days before the semester starts, and…"
"No. Not another word." Mindy stopped her, placing her hands on her hips. She had that determined look in her eye that told Padme she was up to something. "Look, we're going to do another few hours of unpacking, but then we're going to get ready and go out to a party."
Padme groaned. "No, not tonight, we've got so much to do…"
"Yes, but it can wait. No arguments. You can't spend your entire college experience working. You haven't even had a boyfriend!"
"I've gone on plenty of dates…"
"Dates that led nowhere. I'm not saying you have to get a boyfriend—although seriously you should have at least one while in college—but you have to get out and have fun once in a while." Mindy pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing. "We're going. Or I paint badly drawn half naked Greek Gods on the living room wall."
"Wait, what?"
"I'm serious. Maybe I'll paint them worshiping a badly drawn depiction of myself…"
"Okay fine!" Padme laughed—where her friend got these ideas, she had no idea. But she also knew not to ignore a creative threat like that. "But then tomorrow we get right back to packing."
Satisfied that she'd won, Mindy grinned. "Par-tay!" She raised her hands up in victory. She turned back to the box she'd been working on, but paused. "If we're going to a party tonight, we should probably make sure our rooms are unpacked."
"Good idea. Wouldn't want to sleep on the floor."
They moved into their respective rooms to begin unpacking. As Padme entered her bedroom—the master room of course—she couldn't help but wonder why she was bothering to go to this party. She was nice enough to strangers, but by this point she was confident in her circle of friends. She wasn't looking to meet anyone new. Contrary to what Mindy thought, Padme didn't need or want a boyfriend. She had too much to do.
She was going to become a lawyer. She was going to climb her way to the top, and become just as successful as her parents. She would not fail.
She wouldn't let anyone get in her way, especially a man.
I haven't written fanfic in a long time, and I've never written a Star Wars fanfic before. But this story idea won't stop playing in my head, so what do you do when you get a story stuck in your head? You write it of course! So let me know what you think! Did you like it? What do you think is going to happen? More importantly, do you have any suggestions? They're in OUR world, so there's tons of possibilities...
Review!
~Sarah
