Chapter Text
Chapter 1
9 years BBY
Padmé woke slowly. Lying on her side, she could feel the press of the uneven stone wall against her back. The room was dim, but she could see that Leia’s sleeping mat was empty, rolled away until tonight. Padmé knew she needed to get up, but she lingered under the warmth of the blanket. It still shocked her that Tatooine’s twin suns could be so brutally hot during the day, but even here, close to the Dune Sea, the nights and early mornings were cold.
She pushed herself up from her sleeping mat, and quickly rolled it up out of the way. She reached for her robe, the same sand color as most things she owned - handmade, like most of the things she owned.
She was quiet as she entered the shelter’s main room. It was large, hewn naturally from the stone walls of the narrow slot canyon by ancient rains and vicious wind. The shelter’s other smaller rooms, the bedrooms, kitchen, and ‘fresher had been painstakingly excavated by both her and Obi-Wan, when the twins were very young.
Padmé took a seat on the small, worn sofa. She watched as Obi-Wan, Luke, and Leia stepped through their forms, seamlessly transitioning from position to position. She knew they were nearly done, and sure enough, Obi-Wan led them into their final stance.
“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan said, bowing to the children.
“May the Force be with you, Uncle Ben,” Luke and Leia said in unison, returning the bow.
Obi-Wan nodded to Padmé as he went to change out of his Jedi robes. It was only moments later that he was back, wearing dark pants and a loose fitting blue shirt. The clothes were well worn, like everything they possessed. Obi-Wan himself looked well worn. His hair was beginning to gray at the temples and sideburns, as well as his beard. Both his hair and his beard were longer, shaggier than he had ever worn them as a Jedi. Like everyone else who toiled away on this planet, he was always dusty, and rumpled. The fastidious general was no more, it seemed.
He reached for his apron and tucked the folded material into his bag. Padmé had done her best, the previous evening, to get the sand whale gore out of the fibers, but it was a losing battle. And it would just get dirty again today. She watched as Obi-Wan looked out over the Dune Sea. He squinted, causing the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes to stand out in harsh relief.
“I may be home late,” he said. “I hope.”
"Extra hours?” she asked.
“If I can get them,” he said, not sounding enthusiastic. “With the noise that the recycler was making this morning, it’s going to have to be replaced soon.”
Padmé nodded. There wasn’t much else to say. Their life on Tatooine had always been hand to mouth.
As Obi-Wan headed outside to saddle Akkani, his eopie, Luke trotted after him. Padmé felt melancholy, watching the way Luke’s blond hair caught the morning light. As usual, he was dressed in his tunic and pants. They should have been white, but were somewhere between gray and brown, depending on what he’d been crawling in. Padmé had mended the clothes more times than she could count.
Padmé went back to her room to change into a loose fitting brown top, and a pair of sturdy green pants. She quickly brushed out her hair and pulled it into a bun. There was no point in trying to do anything else with it. The winds were too strong to have it loose, unless she wanted to end up with nothing but a head full of knots. She knocked her boots against the wall, to make sure nothing was hiding inside, before pulling them on her feet.
“Leia, get your brother and both of you come help me with chores,” Padmé called, as she made her way outside.
Padmé was filling a watering can with gray water when Leia arrived. Like her brother, ten-year-old Leia was small for her age. Padmé thought Leia might actually like that. It almost always made people underestimate her, and she used it to her advantage.
Leia took the watering can Padmé offered, and precisely watered the small vegetable garden. As always, she was careful not to make a mess, or spill anything on her clothes. Despite the fact that her clothes had been made at the same time as Luke’s, hers were well kept.
“Luke says he’s busy,” Leia offered.
“Well, I guess he can muck out Akkani’s bedding,” Padmé said.
Luke was not thrilled at having to muck out Akkani’s pen, but he knew it was the cost of not helping with the other chores, so he did it. Inside, Padmé set a pot of beans to soak, in hopes that they’d be soft enough to eat for dinner the following day.
She listened as Leia powered up the droids. Padmé felt terrible about it, but they simply did not have the energy reserves to allow Artoo and Threepio to operate all the time. Like almost everything else in their lives, it had to be rationed. And right now, Artoo and Threepio’s primary responsibility was providing school lessons for the twins.
As Luke ran past Padmé to join Leia with the droids, Padmé yelled after him, “Wash your hands.”
While the twins were doing lessons, Padmé checked supplies. They still needed power couplers. The last few times the Jawa, Teeka, stopped to barter, she’d tried to trade for them, but he hadn’t had any. Now it was getting critical. In addition to the dodgy recycler, one of their vaporators kept cycling off. They could live with the recycler down, or one of the vaporators down. But both would put them into a hell of a bind.
Padmé knew she could ask Owen and Beru if they had spare power couplers, but she hated to do that. They already leaned on them so much.
Padmé and the children rarely went into town. It was better that way. But once a season was reasonable, especially when she knew exactly what she needed.
“When you finish with that lesson, we need to run an errand,” Padmé called to the children.
“What’s your name?” Third Sister, Reva Sevander, demanded. She was a frightening sight, dressed in Imperial black armor, a lightsaber dangling from her belt. The Imperial Inquisitors had stormed into town a few days ago, hunting Jedi.
He took a breath. “Owen.”
This far out in the Outer Rim, the Empire had no permanent presence. Most of the time, they were content to leave Tatooine to the gangsters and smugglers. But every few years, they came around, rattling their swords, reminding everyone they existed. Usually, Owen was able to avoid them. But not today. He’d been in the Anchorhead market when they arrived, doing their best to intimidate everyone.
“And this is your wife?” Third Sister pressed, eyes narrowed. She paced back and forth, like a caged animal, looking for a fight.
Owen wrapped his arm around Padmé’s shoulders, drawing her closer, so her face was away from Third Sister. He had no idea if anyone from the Empire would recognize Padmé, but discretion was always best. “This is Pari, my sister-in-law.”
Third Sister watched him for a long moment. “And the children?”
“My niece and nephew.” Owen frowned. “I thought you were looking for Jedi,” he snapped. “Or is the Empire now in the business of stealing children and torturing farmers?”
If the barb wounded Third Sister, she gave no outward sign. Her eyes moved from him to the crowd gathered in the market. Everyone was trying to avoid capturing her attention.
“If you find any Jedi,” Owen continued, with perfect honesty, “you’re welcome to them. Jedi are vermin. I kill vermin on my farm.”
“Enough!” the Grand Inquisitor barked, cutting short whatever else Third Sister had planned. “You heard us. If you give shelter to Jedi, we will know, and you will pay.”
Owen, and the rest of the crowd, took the cue and scattered. Owen snapped his fingers at Luke and Leia. “You two,” he said sharply, “over there.”
Surprisingly, Anakin’s feral children did as they were told and retreated into the nearby junk dealer’s storefront. Owen guided Padmé after them. He could feel her trembling through her hooded robe, even in Tatooine's sweltering heat.
Once inside, Owen took Padmé to the back room, and found a chair for her. It was pure chance he’d stumbled across her in the market, just now. He knew that she and the children rarely left their settlement, deep in the desert. The timing couldn’t possibly have been worse.
“Everything all right, Owen?” the store’s proprietor asked, poking his head in the back room.
“No, sorry, Karz,” he said. “We’ll be off in a few minutes. Pari just needs a moment to rest.”
“Of course.” The junk dealer disappeared through the curtain again, returning to the front of the shop.
Luke and Leia hovered near their mother, not speaking. Owen doubted they were truly being silent. He knew the twins were able to communicate with their thoughts. He had no idea if that was advisable with the Grand Inquisitor so nearby. He had no idea if Force users could sense one another. None of it made one damn bit of sense to him. He’d warned Ben and Padmé not to train the children, but his counsel had fallen on deaf ears.
“Thank you,” Padmé said quietly. She held up her hand, showing him a power coupler. “I just came to town to grab this. It should have been a quick trip.”
Owen sighed, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down at her seated form. “You look like shit, luv,” he said, not unkindly.
She blinked up at him, frowning.
“Is this why you’ve stayed away for so long? You didn’t want me and Beru to see you?” While Padmé had never been a particularly robust human, she looked positively frail now. Her bones seemed to press against her thin skin. There were deep purple hollows under her eyes, and her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun at the base of her skull. She looked like a wraith. Ben was doing a shit job of taking care of his family.
Padmé smiled sadly. “I don’t want to be a burden to you and Beru.”
“Padmé, you know you’re family,” Owen said softly. “You’re never a burden.” He looked at the twins. “These two though ...” he scratched his chin. “Are they even house broken yet?”
“ Hey ,” Leia said, deeply offended.
“I can fly a speeder,” Luke offered.
“Yeah?” Owen asked, humoring Luke, who so clearly wanted to discuss his exploits. “Who let you do that?”
“No one,” Padmé and Leia replied in unison.
“He took the speeder while Ben was at work and Mom was busy,” Leia offered.
Owen narrowed his gaze at Luke. “Were you any good at it?”
“I’m a great pilot,” Luke replied proudly, grinning so widely, Owen could see several missing teeth.
“Given who your father was,” Owen admitted, “I guess that’s not a surprise.”
Luke crawled up onto a workbench next to Owen and looked up at him. “Uncle Owen, did my father really win the Boonta Eve Classic when he was my age?”
Owen crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. “That’s what your grandmother Shmi told me,” he said. He’d told Luke this story countless times. “But I wasn’t there. You’d have to ask your mother about it.”
Luke frowned and kicked his legs. “Mom doesn’t like to talk about him.”
“Yeah, well,” Owen said dryly, patting Luke on the leg, “your old man did some really terrible shit. It rightfully sours people’s memories of him.” Not that Owen was ever particularly fond of Anakin, but he kept that bit to himself, for the sake of the kids.
Luke nodded sagely. “My father is the one who cut off Ben’s leg.”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard too,” Owen confirmed. He tapped Luke in the chest, “But even if he made some really big mistakes, Anakin Skywalker still managed to help create you and your sister. You two are definitely the best thing he ever did.” He took a breath. “Way better than Threepio.”
Leia stuck out her tongue at him and Owen couldn’t help but smile.
“And what about you?” he asked her. “What were you doing while your brother was taking off in the speeder?”
The innocent look she gave him might have been convincing to someone less accustomed to dealing with these feral gremlins.
“She reprogrammed the vaporator to distract Threepio so I could sneak out,” Luke offered.
“That makes you an accomplice,” Owen pointed out to Leia.
“You can’t prove anything,” Leia replied calmly. “It’s his word against mine and I’m a much more reliable witness.”
“You’re smarter than your father was,” Owen replied. “We should all be worried.”
As the speeder pulled up to the mouth of the slot canyon, Ben was waiting in the deep shadows with his eopie. He was silent as Owen powered down the speeder and assisted Padmé out.
“Leia, you and your brother take Akkani home and make sure she gets bedded down,” Ben instructed, handing Leia the reins.
“But, Ben - “ Luke started.
“You heard me,” Ben said firmly, but kindly.
Luke kicked at some loose rocks as he followed Leia and Akkani up the slot canyon toward their well-hidden home.
“I didn’t know you’d gone into town,” Ben said to Padmé. “I would have waited for you.”
She looked away, features drawn.
As Ben looked at him in question, Owen said, “We had a run in with the Imperial Inquisitors.”
Ben seemed to pale in the dim light. “What happened?” He came to Padmé’s side and offered her his arm.
“They were looking for Jedi,” Owen said. “I wished them luck.”
“Did they notice the children?” Ben asked. He looked from Owen to Padmé and back.
“They didn’t seem to take any particular interest in them,” Owen said. “And they didn’t ask their names.”
“But they did ask yours,” Ben said, reading between the lines.
“Yes,’ Owen said, “me and Pari, my sister-in-law.”
Ben frowned.
It was the first time their cover had really been put to the test, by anyone with any authority. Hiding behind a half-truth. According to Ben, the best lies were rooted in truth. Owen always thought that was a damn strange bit of advice from a Jedi.
“I think it best if you all keep your heads down until the Imperials are gone,” Owen said.
“I agree,” Ben said. “Let me see Padmé back to the shelter and then I’ll run you back to town.”
As Ben turned to usher Padmé toward their home, Owen added. “You know that Beru and I are always here if you need help.”
Ben looked at him, seeming to understand the depth of what he meant. “Thank you. That means a lot, to all of us.”
Padmé stared out at the perfect dark of a moonless desert night. The shelter was quiet. Luke and Leia were finally in their beds, asleep. The droids were powered down. But Padmé, despite her eternal exhaustion, could not rest. She was sitting in the central room of the shelter, looking out over the darkened dune sea, her hands still shaking.
She turned, as Obi-Wan entered the room. He looked tired, as usual. He was still wearing his work clothes from the carving station. His hair was sticking up in uneven tufts from the wind on his ride home, and there were rings of dirt around his eyes from where his goggles had rested.
Between the two of them, they seemed no match for the Emperor.
Before she could stop herself, Padmé asked, “Do you think the children are in danger?”
Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his neck wearily. “As long as the Emperor lives, they’re in danger.”
Padmé knew that was the answer. But the confirmation still stung. She took a deep breath, staring out at the stars. She thought of the terror that gripped her as Third Sister singled her out in the market. Even here, on the bitter edge of the known galaxy, it wasn’t safe. “Will they ever be free?”
Obi-Wan was still. Contemplative. “You know it’s complicated, Padmé,” he said quietly. “Like it or not, Luke and Leia inherited a legacy.”
“One that threatens to drown them,” she said, allowing her fear and sorrow to break through momentarily.
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “That’s certainly what the Emperor would like, if he found out about them.” He took a breath and released it slowly. “Or they could be our salvation.”
She frowned at him, shaking her head. “That’s too big of a responsibility to put on their shoulders. They’re only children.”
He looked at her, his features suffused with sadness. “Children grow into adults,” he said. “Anakin was a child once. And a slave. And he became a man who brought the entire Jedi Order and the Republic to its knees. His children may well be equally capable of affecting change.”
That was a thought that haunted Padmé. “And what if they follow his path?” she asked in a strangled whisper, terrified to give voice to the fear.
Obi-Wan simply held her gaze, seeming at peace. “What if they don’t?”
Padmé sighed, sinking back in her chair. He was right, of course. No one could know the twins’ futures for certain.
Obi-Wan draped a worn blanket over her knees, and then sank into a chair across from her. “You know as well as I do that neither Luke nor Leia possess Anakin’s volatility. He is the Chosen One, not them.”
Padmé nodded. That much was true. Luke and Leia were ornery as the day was long, but they didn’t have Anakin’s soul deep hunger for more, a voracious need to shore up his defenses until nothing and no one could hurt him. They weren’t prophesied to balance the Force. They weren’t supposed to happen at all.
“I’m not worried about the Inquisitors sensing Luke and Leia’s capabilities,” Obi-Wan said, answering her unspoken fear. “It’s why the twins’ first lesson has always been how to shield themselves. At this point, they do it reflexively. To the Inquisitors, they seem like children with no Force talent.”
“I thought my fear for them would get easier as they got older,” Padmé whispered. “But it’s quite the opposite.”
“We do not walk an easy path,” Obi-Wan said. “But it is the price we pay for loving and being loved.”
Padmé gave him a wry smile. “What happened to a Jedi shall not know hatred, nor anger, nor love .”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “The Order is gone. The heart of the Temple itself was corrupted by the Dark Side. At best, some of our teachings were quite ... misguided .” He sighed. “And at this point, they’re irrelevant. There aren’t enough Jedi left to bother with rules. The time of the Jedi is over.”
Padmé once again stared out at the darkened sky, feeling the chill of the night seep into her bones, despite the blanket. Maybe it was the false sense of protection provided by darkness. Maybe it was the shock from the day’s events. But for some reason, she felt brave enough to ask the question that had been gnawing at the back of her mind. “Do you think the Grand Inquisitor has replaced him? Do you think he’s still alive?”
Obi-Wan had clearly been waiting for this question. “I know he’s still alive.”
She looked at Obi-Wan. “You feel him? Still?”
Obi-Wan frowned. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t. Which is quite telling in itself. The fact that I haven’t been able to discern any sense of him at all, in ten years, means that he’s putting considerable effort into blocking.”
“Why would he need to block you?” Padmé asked. “He thinks you’re dead.”
“Oh, I don’t imagine it’s for me,” Obi-Wan replied evenly. He reached for his pipe, and took his time lighting it.
“It’s likely his Master who he’s keeping out,” Obi-Wan continued. “Anakin has to know how profoundly he was manipulated and used. I’m certain he doesn’t want Palpatine rooting around in his psyche any more than he already has.”
“Do you believe that Anakin thinks we’re dead? All of us?”
Obi-Wan was quiet, Padmé knew he was reaching into the Force for his answer. “I believe,” he said carefully, “that Palpatine would have wanted Anakin to believe that we were all dead. Anakin was injured. He had no way of knowing that we were able to escape. And once he recovered, his new master wouldn’t have wanted Anakin’s focus divided. He needed Vader to solidify the Empire. He needed Anakin to have a singular goal, and absolute loyalty.”
“And now?” she asked.
Obi-Wan shrugged. “It is the way of the Sith to mistrust and betray one another. Anakin was always rash, but he wasn’t an idiot. He would be a fool not to suspect his master has lied to him about a great many things. So Anakin may well have his suspicions. But the walls he’s built around himself make it impossible for him to confirm anything.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Anakin’s mental shields are quite formidable. Pity he couldn’t have learned that while he was still a Jedi.”
Padmé knew Obi-Wan had a point. In her weaker moments, she wondered how much her husband had changed. She had caught rare glimpses, over the years, of Lord Vader on HoloNet. The thought of him made her stomach turn. She had seen the black robes, so like Anakin. The black zeyd cloth hood obscuring his face was new. She had no idea how extensive his injuries had been. He’d been burned, Obi-Wan had said.
Would she rather Anakin were dead? No. But the thought of him, out there somewhere, physically wounded, corrupted by the Dark Side, caught in some toxic, twisted skirmish with Palpatine. It hurt her to the core.
“Guard your thoughts, Padmé,” Obi-Wan said softly.
Across the canyon, a smile slid across Reva Sevander’s face.
Unnoticed by Obi-Wan, she lowered the binocs and slipped back into the shadows.
END CHAPTER ONE