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Anakin.

Padme answers the comm quickly, glad that her husband is safe. But it isn’t Anakin’s handsome form that appears on the hologram.

“Senator Amidala we meet again.”

Dooku.

Padme suddenly feels very worried indeed.

“I must regrettably inform you that young Skywalker has been detained.” Dooku smirked slightly at the end of his sentence, and Padme felt a surge of terror rush through her.

Not this. Anything but this.

“What have you done with Anakin?” She struggled to keep her tone calm and neutral, hiding the extent of their involvement, but something about the way Dooku looked at her suggested he already knew-or at least suspected.

“Now, now senator. Let’s not become emotional.” How dare him. She may not be a Jedi, but she was well seasoned in hiding her emotions. It was the politician’s way, of course.

“What do you want Dooku.” Perhaps he was right. She sounded snappier than usual, but Anakin was at the very forefront of her mind right now and when he was in trouble, she was always snappy.

“I’m glad you asked. I could be persuaded to return Skywalker to you in exchange for…“ Dooku drew out the pause, and Padme already knew what was coming, of the decision she was going to have to face. “…General Grievous.”

“I…I can’t do that.” Padme cursed herself for stumbling over her words, but right then it was all she could do. She was already weighing up the situation in preparation of the choice she was having to make. “I’m sorry.” She titled her head slightly away from the hologram in shame, embarrassment flushing her cheeks a pale pink.

“You soon will be.” Dooku’s words sliced through her like a lightsaber slices through limbs and she looked at him in horror. He gestured with his hand and suddenly the hologram shifted.

Anakin.

He was alive, but he looked unconscious. Part of Padme was glad about that, it means he wasn’t digging himself deeper into a hole with Dooku, or suffering.

It didn’t last long.

At Dooku’s command, the two Magna-guards stepped forward and rammed their electro staffs into Anakin. His eyes snapped open as yellow bolts writhed around him, and his scream pierced through Padme’s heart. The thought that she was the cause of his pain was almost too much to bear.

It’s Dooku. All of it is Dooku. None of this is your fault.

“Stop!” She couldn’t let Dooku carry on. Couldn’t bear to hear his cries again. “You cannot torture a prisoner!” Diplomacy. When in doubt, she always falls back on diplomacy. It’s where she is at her strongest, and right now she needs to be stronger than ever,

“Torture? I don’t know what you mean?” Anger quivered underneath her skin, and she understood the power of rage and why the Jedi strive to stay away from its lure. “I’ll give you an hour to consider my proposition. I’m sure you will make the right choice.” The transmission ended, and both Dooku and Anakin disappeared from view.

Now, all Padme had to do was make an impossible decision.

“Yousa have to trade with him.” Jar Jar, who had been watching over her shoulder, was adamant. The tall Gungan’s face was twisted with sympathy, but he didn’t know the true extent of how close they were. To him, Padme and Anakin were just friends, nothing more.

“I can’t Jar Jar. With Grievous captured we could win the war.” Diplomacy again; it’s murmurings were second nature to her. Still, in her mind was she was making a list, and for every reason she found to save Anakin, there was another that told her to leave him.

“But…but Padme. Heesa our friend.” Padme felt terrible when she saw how upset Jar Jar looked- he cared deeply for all his friends and would make this decision in a heartbeat. She didn’t have that luxury.

“I know…I know Jar Jar.” She turned away, choosing instead to watch the dark waters outside the city. A school of fish swam lazily by, their silver scales reflecting the yellow light from the lanterns. If only she could be a fish. They didn’t have to deal with decisions like this. To be a fish, and swim freely all day without a care in the world; Padme would trade everything for that right now.

“Meesa think you have to deal.” Could she? Could she betray the Republic like that?

“Yousa should listen to Binks. Heesa right.” Boss Lyonie chimed in, his deep voice reverberating around her.

She thanked both Gungans for their advice and left, needing time to figure it out. Wandering along the long corridors, she twisted her hands into each other as she ran over the ongoing debate in her head again and again.

Anything but this. Please.

Oh to be a fish, floating nonchalantly through the cautious waves. Then, to swim further and further down-like digging a deeper and deeper hole-going down, down as it gets darker and darker until you’re surrounded by inky blackness with no way out.

Deep water.

And Padme found herself realising that the one person she wants to, needs to talk about this with isn’t here.

And might never be.

With a sob, she dropped to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself in a poor substitute for a hug. There is no point delaying the inevitable because there is only one choice here.

And with that, the one person she really needs, her husband, is gone.

By the time Dooku called again, Padme was prepared. She had spent the majority of the hour allocated working through her emotions so she could face him again calmly and do what had to be done.

The comm beeped and she allowed herself a moment to let what she was doing really sink in. The aftereffects from this would be huge-tidal ripples passing along the galaxy causing unforeseen effects.

I do what has to be done.

Taking a deep breath, Padme answered and Dooku’s holographic form flickered into life.

“Ah, senator Amidala. I trust you have come to the correct decision.” He thought he knew what she was going to say, the confident note undermining his words said it all. Well, she had a surprise for him, the crooked bastard.

“I have, Count.” Another deep breath. She could do this. “General Grievous will remain in Republic custody, and tried under Republic Law. There will be no trade here today.”

Dooku’s eyes widened for a moment, surprised, before narrowing to glare at her with irritation. “Do I need to remind you of the consequences of this course of action?” He raised his hand, about to gesture to the Magna-guards stood just out of sight.

“No!” The word came out a little quicker, a little harsher than appropriate and she saw a flicker of triumph pass over Dooku’s face. “I understand the consequences, but my decision is final and nothing you say or do will change that.”

Please. Let him be safe.

“Very well.” Dooku’s mouth was turned down in a scowl of annoyance. “I’m sure we shall meet again, senator.” The last word was practically growled at her as the transmission ended. Free from his overwhelming gaze, Padme sank to the floor and hoped, not for the first time, that she made the right choice.

“Padme?” She turned as Jar Jar plodded up slowly behind her. “Meesa sorry to interrupt, but weesa wondering what to do with the General.”

Padme rose from the floor, noting how numb her legs had become. How long had she been sat there? “I’ll need to call for a Republic transport to take him to whatever dark cell they decide is his.”

“Yousa…Yousa didn’t trade?” His face fell and Padme felt another stab of anguish through her already tattered heart.

“I had to do what’s best for the Republic. That is the duty I’ve sworn to uphold Jar Jar. I can’t break that, not even…not even for Anakin.” His name is like fire, burning bright and hot against her lips, pain and passion all at once. She fumbles with the comm again, searching for the correct channel. Who to call? She could certainly call the Senate, explain what had happened, but in the back of her mind one thought niggled at her.

The Jedi Council.

They needed to be informed of Grievous…and Anakin’s, respective captures. Padme had no doubt that Dooku would try to free Grievous by force, and a Jedi escort would be the best protection against that.

She turned to Jar Jar. “I must contact the Council. They will send an escort for Grievous.”

“Okie dokie.” The words lacked his signature cheer and he started away from her, head hanging limply in sadness.

Oh Anakin. Please come home.

Obi-Wan’s comm blinked furiously at him as he rose out of a meditative trance. Grumbling under his breath about how he couldn’t even get five minutes peace, he answered, “Kenobi.”

“Obi-Wan. The Council is meeting. We received an urgent transmission from senator Amidala.” Mace Windu was as brisk and to-the-point as always.

“Urgent? What’s happened?” A tremor of worry shook his thoughts, and he pushed it away hurriedly.

“You should come hear for yourself.” Mace sounded more serious than usual-if that was even possible-and Obi-Wan sighed.

“I’m on my way.” He rose from his seat, pulled on his cloak and headed quickly towards the Council chamber.

What could possibly have happened now?

“Senator Amidala, please, enlighten us with your information.” Mace addressed the senator, who faced all of them via hologram. Obi-Wan noted that she looked more tired and withdrawn than usual, wondering if that had something to do with the urgent news she had to tell.

“Yes.” Padme dipped her head to the Council in respect. “General Grievous has been captured.”

Murmurings started up around the room. Obi-Wan couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Grievous, captured? But how?

“How did this happen?” Mace quietened the room with a small sweep of his hand.

“The Gungans. They managed to…overpower Grievous.”

The Gungans? It seems we greatly underestimated their power.

Obi-Wan failed to see how the Gungans could have succeeded where they failed, but then again he wasn’t going to question the victory. With Grievous in custody, the Republic now had a huge advantage-perhaps enough to win the war.

“This is…good news indeed.” Mace spoke for all of them, echoing the triumphant feeling around the room. Yet, despite all this, Master Yoda seemed troubled.

“Strange, I find, that it is you, senator Amidala, to us this news bring. Of Knight Skywalker’s whereabouts, you know not?”

Obi-Wan’s heart plummeted in his chest. Where was Anakin? He would have been the first to bring this news to them, glorious in his victory. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Padme hung her head. “I’m afraid that he was…”

Obi-Wan clenched the arms of his seat.

Not dead. Please, not dead.

“…captured by Count Dooku, in retaliation for Grievous’ apprehension.”

Obi-Wan’s fist unclenched, albeit only a little. Being captured by Dooku was almost as bad as being dead-at least the dead couldn’t scream. Worrying, he stretched out along his bond with Anakin, but was met with an unresponsive wall.

At least he’s alive.

“Count Dooku contacted me, and offered a trade. Grievous for Knight Skywalker,” Padme continued.

“So you have come to us for advice?” Mace leaned back in his chair. “This is a very difficult decision senator Amidala, and not one to be taken lightly.”

Yoda shook his head. “Come for advice, senator Amidala has not.”

“Yes, Master Yoda. I’ve come to ask for a Jedi escort to take Grievous away. I suspect that Dooku will try to intercept the transport and free Grievous by force.”

“You didn’t trade?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help the words falling out of his mouth. He knew, of course, that Padme would never have made such a decision without giving it proper thought, but he would have thought that her friendship with Anakin would have made it nearly impossible for her to decide.

“I did not trade, Master Kenobi. I’m sorry. I did what had to be done.” Padme sounded weary, and if Obi-Wan looked closer he could see the overwhelming sadness haunting her eyes, the slight reddish tinge that hinted at tears having flowed.

“Understand your decision, we do. Send an escort, we will. Contact you, once they have left, your escort will,” Master Yoda spoke carefully, picking his words with care.

“Thank you, Master Jedis.” Padme bowed her head once more and the transmission ended.

“Master-“Obi-Wan was cut off by Master Yoda’s hand.

“No. The escort, you will not be.” Obi-Wan sighed softly but did not argue.

“Then let me find Anakin. We can’t let him stay with Dooku.” More mutterings, the Council members disputing between themselves.

“I’m not sure we can afford to let you away from the front lines, Master Kenobi,” Mace spoke quietly, his words underlined with sympathy.

“No.” Yoda overruled. “Let Obi-Wan search, we must.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Padawan Tano, with you she must go. One month, you have, until return to the war you must.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan bowed his head. “I shall start immediately.”

“May the Force be with you.” Mace’s words were echoed by the rest of the Council as Obi-Wan stood.

Now, all he had to do was inform Ahsoka of Anakin’s predicament, find Anakin and rescue him from Dooku.

Easy, right?

Padme had been right.

Dooku, to date, had tried no less than five times to free General Grievous from prison.

All of which, thanks to the large Jedi force stationed there, have failed.

Some came close, some barely began. Yet Dooku continues his efforts, and Jedi keep losing their lives.

They had tried using Dooku’s efforts to get closer to him and find out where Anakin was. Both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had stationed themselves at Desolation Alley, where Grievous was now being held to prevent the civilian casualties that had been occurring whilst he was imprisoned on Coruscant. The asteroid Oovo IV was far away from any civilians, thus eliminating the problem.

They had gotten so close to Dooku that time. They’d managed to sneak on board the flagship before they were ambushed by a rather large platoon of droids. Surrounded on all sides, they’d been forced to fight their way back to where they came in, Ahsoka catching a nasty blaster bolt in the process.

And that was only the first in a long line of failures. With three weeks gone already, the chances of finding Anakin were growing slimmer and slimmer, and Obi-Wan didn’t even want to think about what was happening to him. Several times a day, he and Ahsoka would reach out along the bond, but nothing. He suspected Force-suppressants, something Dooku was well-known for using.

Right now, Obi-Wan was headed to Padme’s apartment where she was apparently taking a much needed break. He was hoping to view the hologram footage of Dooku’s trade offer in the hopes of gleaning some new information, although he didn’t hold his hopes high.

Reaching her door, he knocked, and the door slid open almost immediately. Obi-Wan tried to hide the surprise on his face when he saw the state the senator was in. Hair down and unkept, clothes ruffled and bags showing under her tired eyes.

“Senator.” He greeted, keeping his tone neutral.

“Master Kenobi.” Her voice was just as weary as the rest of her. Obi-Wan wondered what exactly had her in such a state. Surely it wasn’t over losing Anakin? He suspected that the senator was harbouring the guilt from his prolonged stay with Dooku, and for once he didn’t think there was anything he could say to help.

“I’m here to view the hologram footage, if I may.” Padme stepped aside and allowed him in. “I won’t be long.”

“Of course, Obi-Wan.” Padme’s informal words eased the tension slightly. “Please, you can stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” He dipped his head to her respectfully. She gestured to one of the seats, which he took gratefully. Wordlessly, she passed him the holocomm.

“It’s all set up.”

“Thank you.”

There was an awkward pause as they both sat, staring at the unmoving piece of technology, neither one of them wanting to watch. Reluctantly, Obi-Wan reached for it, and paused.

“There’s no need for you to be here, if you’d rather not.”

Padme shook her head. “I’d rather stay, if that’s alright.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan paused again, and then, hesitantly pressed play. Dooku’s form sprung into 3D life and Obi-Wan watched and listened carefully to the whole exchange, hoping for something, anything.

It did not escape his notice that Padme looked away when Anakin was brought into view, or when she flinched as he screamed.

She must be feeling guiltier than I thought.

Silently, they watched the rest of the footage, and when it had finished, Obi-Wan sighed.

“Well, all I can get from that is that Dooku is very angry. Nothing new there.” He smiled slightly, hoping to lift the mood a little. Padme’s mouth twitched but nothing changed. He reached over and placed his hand gently on her arm. “Padme. It’s not your fault. You did what most of us would do.”

“But not everyone.” She mumbled. “You wouldn’t have done it. Anakin wouldn’t have done it, not if our places were reversed.” She sniffed, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. “I just can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time I’ll…We’ll ever see him. I don’t know what I’d do if he…if he…”

“Shhhh.” Obi-Wan softened his voice, and edged closer to the saddened senator. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around her in what he hoped was something of a comforting embrace. Padme relaxed against him, her body heat seeping through his robes, and sobbed.

Mere minutes later, she pulled away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Guilt affects us all in different ways. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Padme smiled gratefully at him and rose, composure mostly regained. Obi-Wan stood as well.

“I’ll be in touch,” he promised. “I’ll find him, don’t worry.”

“I sure you will.” She passed him the abandoned holocomm. “Here. Take it. I… I don’t want it.”

His hand wrapped it around it, the touch burning him, and tucked it into his belt.

“Take care, Padme.”

“You too, Obi-Wan.”

And he left.

The next time Obi-Wan saw Padme, it was three weeks later, and he was beginning to feel rather sour about their efforts.

He didn’t know why he’d ended up at her apartment, but he felt like she would be the only one to understand. He knocked again, the same pattern as before. She took longer coming to the door this time, but when it slid open he was rather relieved to find her looking much like her old self.

“Master Kenobi! This is…unexpected.”

“Forgive me for coming unannounced. I was, ah, hoping to talk to you.”

“Of course, please, do come in.” He followed inside her apartment and accepted the gracious offer of tea, hoping it would do something to settle his nerves. They sipped their drinks in silence, but Obi-Wan could feel Padme’s curiosity building around her.

“Master Kenobi, I don’t mean to be rude, but what happened to you?” Padme gestured at the right side of his face, and Obi-Wan sighed.

“Battle droids. Commando droids. Magna-guards. And a lovely cell on-board a Separatist freighter.” He ran his finger lightly over the jagged red cut that sliced through his skin. “This is just a parting gift.”

He could feel Padme’s alarm though the Force, sharp and unforgiving.

“You were captured?”

“Sort of.” He sighed again, unsure of how to proceed. “Another wonderful idea for finding Anakin. We hoped that I would be sufficient enough bait to lure Dooku out of wherever he was hiding.” It was true, after several failed attempts to free Grievous, Dooku had disappeared, presumably to come up with a better plan than trying to overwhelm their forces. In the meantime, Grievous’ trial was due to start any day now, and it would be a huge surprise if he got anything other than ‘Guilty’.

“It didn’t work-did it?” Padme’s face fell, whatever hope lingering inside her dimming a little more.

“No.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “And we lost another week.”

“Why? What happened?”

Obi-Wan huffed. “What didn’t happen? I was only meant to be aboard that freighter for a couple of days but somehow the Republic fleet lost it. It took them four days to find me again, and another two to break me out. All in all, it was a complete and utter disaster and we’re running out of time.”

“Running out of time?” Alarm pierced through Padme and she shivered.

“Yes. I was only allotted one month to find Anakin, and then I must return to the front. And with each day, I grow more afraid we’ll never get him back,” Obi-Wan confessed. “I’ve tried to trust the Force, trust Anakin, but this worry keeps growing inside of me and I can’t seem to get rid of it.” He looked at Padme, who also seemed to be struggling.

She laid a comforting hand on his back. “I feel it too, Obi-Wan. I still can’t help but think that this is all my fault, and I worry that I’ll never see him again.”

He nodded somberly. “There’s so much I still have to, need to tell him. I…I don’t think I ever really told him how much he means to me. Jedi are forbidden to have attachments, yet somehow they keep forming. Anakin is like a brother to me, and if anything ever happened to him, I…I don’t know what I would do.”

This time, it was Padme who wrapped her slender arms around him, pulling him closer.

“I don’t know either, Obi-Wan. But maybe we should just focus on the now.”

He smiled. “Qui-Gon used to say that. I never used to understand it, but I think I do now.” He rose from his seat. “Thank you, Padme. This has been…most helpful.”

“It’s my pleasure, Obi-Wan,” she replied. “Please, pass on my thanks to Ahsoka as well. For what you’re doing.”

“I will,” he promised. “Take care.”

“You too, Master Kenobi.”

Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds.

That was how long they had left to find Anakin.

Despairing, both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were pouring over the Galactic map. Datapads lay scattered around the room, each displaying small tidbits of information - clues to where Anakin might be.

One hundred and nineteen minutes. Seven thousand, one hundred and forty seconds.

A pulse. So small that Obi-Wan instantly dismissed it.

One hundred and eighteen minutes. Seven thousand and twenty seconds.

Another pulse, this one stronger. Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It must just be the tiredness seeping in-he can’t remember the last time he had a full night of sleep.

One hundred and ten minutes. Six thousand, five hundred and forty seconds.

The pulses were getting stronger now, and more painful. He let out a small hiss under his breath and hoped it wasn’t going to turn into a horrible headache.

One hundred and one minutes. Six thousand seconds.

Pain spread though his body, not an inch left unscathed. He heard Ahsoka gasp, her legs trembling. They looked each other in the eye, and realisation hit Obi-Wan like a slab of duracrete.

“Anakin.”

Ninety minutes. Five thousand, three hundred and forty seconds.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were perched wherever there was room, deep in meditation as they tried to reach Anakin. If Dooku had been pumping him full of Force suppressants as Obi-Wan suspected, it would take Anakin a while to get full control of the Force back.

Sixty eight minutes. Four thousand and twenty seconds.

The pain was almost unbearable now, and Obi-Wan could feel Ahsoka shaking beside him. Just how long had Anakin lived with this, how long had he managed to hold out?

Twenty five minutes. Two thousand, five hundred and twenty seconds.

The Force swirled and swirled around them as the bond with Anakin began to open more and more. The grey wall that had blocked their way was crumbling and falling, no longer resisting their efforts.

Eleven minutes. One thousand, eight hundred and sixty seconds.

Almost there. Obi-Wan could almost feel Anakin’s thoughts-or at least the barest outlines. Pain, so much pain.

Five minutes. One thousand, five hundred and sixty seconds.

They were through.

Anakin!

…Obi-Wan?

He sagged in relief as Anakin responded to his call.

Thank god you’re alright.

I…where are you? Where’s Ahsoka?

I’m here. Ahsoka’s reply was more distant, her bond with Anakin weaker.

Where are you Anakin? We can come and get you.

I-

Pain, fresh pain poured through all three of them. Ahsoka cried out, and Obi-Wan trembled. His hand went to his heart.

Two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds.

Searing pain coursed through him. He gasped, struggling to hold onto Anakin as the bond began to close.

No!

One minute. Sixty seconds.

Obi-Wan fought against it, trying to pull the bond back open. It shrank and shrank and shrank until finally…

Ten seconds.

…it snapped.

“Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan groaned. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Why was he on the floor? More importantly, why did his head feel like there was a bantha stampeding through his brain? Groggily, he reached for Anakin, as he would at times like this, and came up short.

What the…oh no.

Wide awake now, he could suddenly hear the rapid pounding on his door. He jumped up, and rushed over. Not bothering to smooth his rumpled robes, or organise his wild hair, he waved his hand and the door opened.

“Mace.”

“Obi-Wan.” Sympathy dripped over his words. “We found a body.”

At once, everything became too real.

Anakin. Body. Bond. Broken? Gone. Injured?

No.

Dead.

His vision swam; Mace grew out of focus, and he felt his muscles trembling. Blindly, he grasped for something solid to hold onto, and hooked something warm and soft.

That same thing led him carefully over to his abandoned seat, pushed him down until his head was between his knees.

“Breathe, Obi-Wan.” His breaths, ragged and short, came in small uncontrollable gasps. Focus. Carefully, he brought his breathing back under control, and as he did the world around him sharpened.

Anakin.

Mace’s hand left his shoulder as he went to check on Ahsoka, who was still unconscious, slumped on the floor beside the piles of research.

Wasted.

Slowly, he pulled himself upright, swaying slightly, but more in control than he was. Yet, he still felt vulnerable, too exposed to the Force and its wielders.

On the floor, Ahsoka stirred. Moaning, she too pushed herself upright, slower than Obi-Wan had.

Probably for the best.

He moved, crouching beside her like Mace was.

“Ahsoka. Are you alright?”

“I…What happened?” She mumbled, pressing her hand to her forehead. “Why do I feel like I’ve been run over by a herd of gundarks?”

Obi-Wan hesitated. How could he tell her? How could he be the one to tell her Anakin was gone?

Her eyes snapped open fully. “Anakin! Master Obi-Wan, you don’t….you don’t think…”

Those eyes. So young and innocent and full of hope. Could he destroy that?

“I’m sorry little one,” Mace spoke before him, and he was grateful.

“No…” Ahsoka grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm. “He can’t…he can’t…please…”

Obi-Wan couldn’t speak, so he just shook his head sadly. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she let out a pained howl that shook Obi-Wan to his very core. He pulled her close, enveloping her in an embrace, not caring of what Mace would think.

Thankfully, Mace took that as his cue to leave. He stood, went to the door, and turned back.

“The Council are waiting when you are ready, Obi-Wan.” And then, with unspoken words of condolence hanging between them, he left. Obi-Wan pulled Ahsoka closer and ran his hand reassuringly down her back lekku

Oh Anakin.

Come back. Please.

We need you…

…I need you.

As Mace said, the Council were indeed awaiting their arrival. Obi-Wan had managed to make himself and Ahsoka more presentable, although there were still faint tear tracks running down Ahsoka’s face.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as Obi-Wan and Ahsoka entered, and many of the Council members refused to meet his eye. It didn’t bother him as it once might have-he had much bigger things on his mind.

“A day of sadness, this is.” Master Yoda was the first to speak, dipping his head slightly to Obi-Wan. “Mourn this loss, we will.”

Obi-Wan gave a slight nod of his own in return and pulled Ahsoka slightly closer, his hands resting on her shoulders. He felt her relax a little more, but there were still so many conflicting emotions running through her, and through him.

It wasn’t the first time he’s experienced loss-far from it-but it never got any easier. Grief was a powerful emotion, and too many times he’d nearly succumbed to that darkness. He made himself a promise there and then that he would do all he could to stop Ahsoka from ending up on that path.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace jolted him out of his thoughts and he realised the Council was looking expectantly at him.

“Sorry, I…” He trailed off, unsure of what was being asked. He hated the sympathetic looks that formed on many of the Council members’ faces. He wasn’t a padawan anymore, he didn’t need or particularly want them to feel sorry for him.

“Master Gallia was asking if either of you felt anything before Knight Skywalker’s death,” Mace explained.

“Ah, yes.” His grip on Ahsoka tightened. “We did.”

“Both of you?” Adi Gallia sounded skeptical. Of course, most of the Order knew about the strong bond he and Anakin shared, but it was still highly unusual.

“Yes.”

“What did you feel?” Plo Koon had less of an edge to his voice than Adi Gallia, most likely sympathy for Ahsoka. He knew the two were close and that he would want to help Ahsoka through this.

“Pain,” Obi-Wan replied, aware of Ahsoka tensing beneath his hands. “Terrible pain.”

The Council members muttered amongst themselves for a moment until Mace Windu spoke once more.

“We will of course be expecting a more, ah, detailed response in time Master Kenobi. But for now, I think this shall suffice.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan dipped his head politely, and then met eyes with Mace. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, “Where...where was he found?”

A pause. Too long. And then, Mace spoke, “The Temple steps. We don’t know how Dooku got so close.”

The Temple steps.

He was so close.

“This must have been planned,” he mused. All eyes swivelled to him, encouraging him to continue. “The timing was too precise for it to be random.”

“What timing?” Adi Gallia spoke.

“When…when we felt it. There was exactly ten seconds left. I was counting.”

“Ten seconds to what?” Mace sounded just as confused as the rest of the Council felt, and Obi-Wan looked at him with saddened eyes.

“The end of the month you gave us.”

Gasps of horror fled shocked mouths as the realisation of it all sank in. It was either a rather huge coincidence, or somehow, Dooku knew.

“Obi-Wan. Padawan Tano. You didn’t tell anyone outside this room about this deadline, did you?” Mace queried.

Ahsoka shook her head, “No.” She half-whispered the word. “No-one.”

Satisfied, Mace turned to Obi-Wan, who dropped his gaze for a moment. “I…I told Senator Amidala. She caught me off-guard.”

“No-one ever catches you off-guard.” Mace leaned forward, concerned. “Is there any chance-“

“No!” Obi-Wan interrupted sharply. “I’ve known the senator a long time. She was distraught over what she had done, and felt guilty. I was only trying to ease her mind when it slipped.”

“You don’t suppose she told anyone else, do you?”

“I can’t be sure. The senator’s business is her own.” Mace sighed, but let it sit.

“Not much, we can do now. Stay in the present, we must.” Yoda added. Obi-Wan gave a wry smile.

“Then the meeting is at a close,” Mace announced. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka bowed politely, and left the room.

Once outside, Obi-Wan slumped a little, the straightness leaving his shoulders. Ahsoka turned to him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For…for…” she searched for the words, but they escaped her. Instead, she sent her thanks over the small bond they shared, and Obi-Wan understood.

Thank you for being here.

Despite Mace having called the meeting to a close, Obi-Wan was still waiting outside the chamber a good half hour later before the Council members finally emerged, all of them refusing to make eye contact with him apart from Master Plo, who went to join Ahsoka as she sat meditating-or at least trying to-in the corner of the room.

Obi-Wan tapped his finger impatiently against his folded arm, waiting for Mace to emerge. As always, he was the last to come, accompanied by Master Yoda.

“Obi-Wan,” Mace started. “I thought you would have left by now. There’s no need for you to be here.”

“I need to see him Mace.” A half hour of distressed thoughts rampaging round his head had done nothing good for him. Every time he tried to meditate his mind would throw up some other awful image of Anakin. Pain, pain, smothering, choking. At moments he couldn’t breathe, and the only thing that was going to solve that would be seeing Anakin-no matter what.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Mace frowned, thinking it over. Yoda shook his head.

“Go, Obi-Wan should. Ease his mind, it may.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said. Mace didn’t look especially pleased with the decision, but he did not argue.

Ahsoka, finally given up on her meditation, joined them along with Master Plo. Overhearing the end of the exchange, she turned to Obi-Wan, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan queried. Ahsoka paused, and then nodded.

“Yes.” She was adamant, but Obi-Wan could sense the fear growing inside of her. He did not wish to fuel that fear, but much like himself it may ease her mind a little to see Anakin-if only to disprove the terrible theories that ran rampant in their thoughts.

Mace gestured, “Follow me.”

They were going to the morgue.

The temperature was far lower than Obi-Wan remembered. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. He hated the cold with a passion, forever turning up the heat in order to keep himself functioning. Qui-Gon had often joked that he was the only tropical plant in his collection, always needing to be overly warm.

He still missed him.

The grief never really gets any better, but with the help of the Force, and time, it gets easier to handle.

He had no doubts that this was going to take a lot of time.

On the table in the centre of the room was an unidentified mass covered by a white sheet.

Anakin.

Now that they were so close, Obi-Wan was beginning to have doubts. It didn’t help that Ahsoka’s fear and worry was seeping everywhere, affecting him. He turned to her.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, so only she would hear. She shook her head.

“I need to do this, Master Obi-Wan,” she replied. Obi-Wan sighed. She was as stubborn as Anakin.

Mace, who led the small group, stood on the opposite side of the table with Master Yoda. Master Plo stood just behind Ahsoka.

“Are you ready?” Mace asked, his hands lightly grasping the top of the sheet.

Obi-Wan drew in a shaky breath, and nodded, “Yes.”

The sheet was pulled back slowly, and Obi-Wan watched it fold easily back on itself, diverting his attention away from the inevitable for as long as possible. He heard Ahsoka’s small gasp, felt the tremor of horror through the Force, and finally, he looked.

He wished he hadn’t.

The stiff cloth was drawn back to Anakin’s waist, and it seemed to Obi-Wan that not a single inch of his skin was left untouched. The scar on his right eye was nothing in comparison to the harsh marks left by his time with Dooku. Bruises, cuts, welts, burns-you name it, it was probably there. But what really got Obi-Wan were the deep lightsaber burns, gouging out pathways in Anakin’s flesh.

Dooku actually did his own dirty work this time.

He hated himself for thinking that, but right now it was the only way he was going to stay rational. He took one more long look; matching every injury to the pain he had felt last night, and a flash of anger swarmed over him. He too had known great pain at Ventress’ hands, but somehow that paled in comparison to Anakin’s ordeal.

“There’s a list, if you want to see it,” Mace ventured at last, the silence suffocating them all. Mace grasped the datapad that sat on a small table nearby, but Obi-Wan waved it away. No, this was bad enough.

After another long moment of considerably awkward silence, Obi-Wan finally gave the smallest of nods and the sheet was drawn back up over Anakin’s body. Obi-Wan took one last glance at his friend’s, his brother’s face before turning away.

Time to go.

Padme Amidala was sat enjoying a rather nice cup of tea and watching the Coruscant traffic, with a datapad running through the various news on the Holo-net next to her. As she tracked a particularly posh red speeder that zoomed past her apartment, she suddenly heard mention of the Jedi on the news. Redirecting her attention, she turned the volume up and watched with interest.

‘Today the Republic lost another hero. Just moments ago, the Jedi released a statement announcing the death of the Hero with No Fear, General Anakin Skywalker.”

Padme felt the blood drain from her face, and her cup slipped from her numb fingers. It shattered on the floor below her, but she took no notice.

No!

“The news of his death comes exactly a month after he was first reported as missing in action. The Jedi have yet to confirm the manner of his death, but several anonymous sources claim that the general’s body was left outside the Temple early this morning. It is unclear wh-“

Padme turned the datapad off, trembling as she did so.

Anakin, oh Anakin.

Why?

Why did it have to be you?

Gradually, she stood on shaking legs. Unsteadily, she headed for the door, grabbing her cloak as she did. There was only one person who she could rely on to tell the truth.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Obi-Wan sat with Ahsoka on the round meditation cushions inside his rooms. It was much cleaner now than it had been, as Obi-Wan was determined to keep him and Ahsoka busy for the time being to stop any straying thoughts. They’d made quick work of all the research, tidying it into sorted piles, ready to be returned to the Archives when they were ready.

Then, they had decided to try meditating, but so far neither of them could slip into a decent trance. Despite his efforts, Obi-Wan could feel his thoughts wandering regularly to, well, everything. Meticulously, he sorted through and made lists of things that had to be done; sorting out Anakin’s things, finding someone new to look after his droid, decide what was going to happen with Anakin battalion-he suspected finding them another general was going to be tricky, they had quite the reputation-and, Ahsoka.

She would need someone else to continue her training, and he suspected it was going to be a difficult job. Not only was she headstrong and reckless, but now the young Togrutan was also rather grief-stricken. To lose your Master suddenly, as he had, was terrible. But to lose them when one is so young, that is devastating. Unless she was given the proper guidance, it would be extremely easy for her to stray from the Light.

Sighing, he opened his eyes and raised himself from his position, limbs aching. Ahsoka also followed suit, rubbing a hand over her aching temples. He watched her for a moment, deciding, and then spoke.

“Ahsoka, I understand if you do not feel ready to talk about this at the moment, but we should discuss finding someone to continue your training.”

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka replied. “I understand.”

Obi-Wan could practically see the worry hovering around her, almost sense her thoughts. Probably wondering who she’ll end up with, someone completely different, or someone she doesn’t even know, maybe someone who just doesn’t understand. It could be anyone, or not.

“I would be happy to continue your training.” Obi-Wan spoke at last. He saw a bright glimmer pass over Ahsoka’s eyes, reading it for what it was.

Hope.

“I…thank you,” Ahsoka replied. Obi-Wan seated himself beside her, and wrapped one arm around her shoulder.

“Everything is going to be fine, I promise.” He could sense the battle raging inside her, emotions running wild, but he had faith she would overcome this. He had to.

His commlink beeped at him and he sighed. “Kenobi,” he answered.

“Master Kenobi, I’m very sorry to disturb you but there’s a Senator Amidala here to see you.” It was one of the Temple guards.

Obi-Wan cursed inwardly. He hadn’t even thought of Padme, and she must have found out through the Holo-Net, or something like that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting his thoughts, and replied, “I’ll be right down.”

He turned to Ahsoka, “I won’t be long-will you be alright?”

“Yeah…I…I’ll do something.”

“Try a kata or two,” he suggested, “the exercise will do you good.”

“Alright, I will.” With that, he turned and left, striding quickly towards the Temple entrance.

Oh he was not looking forward to this at all.

Obi-Wan sensed Padme before he reached the Temple entrance. Her grief rang strongly through the Force and he found himself momentarily taken aback. He rounded the corner, and spotted her pacing nervously along the gleaming floor. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her pace before-it was most definitely an Anakin trait.

She spotted him before he could reach her and hurried over.

“Obi-Wan, is it true? Is he…is he…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Obi-Wan grasped her arm lightly and pulled her into one of the smaller rooms along the empty corridor. Putting of the inevitable for as long as possible, he steered her over to a seat and sat her down. Taking a deep breath, he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“No…” Padme breathed. “No, I can’t, I won’t believe it. This is a lie!”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I’m sorry Padme-it’s true. Anakin’s dead.”

“No…” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. A single tear trickled down her cheek. Then, “How?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, “I don’t know, I…didn’t want to know.”

Padme nodded softly, the movement barely noticeable. “Was he really…found outside the Temple?”

“I’m afraid so.” Obi-Wan sighed. “We don’t know how Dooku got so close.”

Another nod. He noticed that her arms had subconsciously wrapped themselves around her body, embracing herself in what might be a comforting gesture.

“I want to see him.”

What?

“I…What?” Surprised, Obi-Wan didn’t quite know what to say. Padme drew herself up higher, and her tone grew more demanding.

“I want to see him. Now.”

“I can’t let you, I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan felt a pang of guilt.

She doesn’t need to see him like that. No-one does.

“Obi-Wan, I demand to see him. Please.”

He shook his head, and, out of the blue, she suddenly started to cry. He sat rigid for a moment, completely unsure of what to do. Then, he sat next to her, and she leant on his shoulder. He could feel her warmth as she sagged onto his side, and allowed her to do so.

After a minute or so, she pulled herself together enough to speak.

“Obi-Wan, I need to see Anakin.”

“Why?”

“Because…” she paused, as if deliberating something in her mind, before speaking again, “because he’s my husband.”

What!?

Obi-Wan felt like he’d just been smacked in the face. Hard.

Anakin? Married?

“Kriffing hell,” he muttered. Things somehow just got a lot more complicated.

Somehow, he managed to ask, “When?”

“After Geonosis,” Padme replied. “We had the ceremony on Naboo.”

Mentally, Obi-Wan pieced together the timeline. Things suddenly started to make sense, Anakin spending more time away from the Temple, his sudden reluctance to go away on missions, the self-preservation that had randomly kicked in.

Anakin was married.

Accepting defeat, he exhaled slowly. Standing, he offered his hand to Padme. She looked at it questioningly through the tears that had settled in her eyes.

“I’ll take you to him. But only if you’re sure.”

Surprised, Padme took his hand, wiping away her tears.

“I…I thought you’d be more…shocked.”

He shrugged, “Honestly, this is Anakin we’re talking about. This really isn’t as big of a surprise as you’d think. I had suspicions, of course, but I never actually expected you to be married.”

Padme paused for a moment, and then reached for her neck. Slowly, she pulled out a long gold chain-the same one he had seen her wearing quite a few times-but now he could see what was hanging on it.

A ring.

“Anakin kept his in his belt.” She murmured. “We only ever wore them when we were alone.”

“It’s beautiful,” Obi-Wan replied, transfixed by the shimmering stones. Padme looked at it a moment longer, before lifting the chain over her head. Carefully, she unclipped the clasp and slid the ring off, before sliding it onto her finger.

“I guess it doesn’t matter if anyone knows now.”

No, I guess it doesn’t.

Obi-Wan found himself stood outside the morgue for the second time that day, this time with Padme at his side. They both face the grey doors, unwilling to open them.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Obi-Wan asked again, all too aware of the condition Anakin was in.

“I’m sure.” Padme replied, her voice barely a whisper. Obi-Wan waved the doors open and she stepped inside.

“I’ll be out here-if you need anything.”

She nodded, “Thank you,” and the doors closed.

Padme stood by the end of the table. Grasping on at rough cloth, she hesitated, and then, gently lifted it back so only his face was uncovered.

She gasped, seeing the extent of the damage, and wondered what the rest of him must be like, if his face was this bad. Gently, she ran her fingers down the side of his cheek, feeling the cold seep into her hand.

“Oh Ani.” She murmured. “I’m so sorry.” A stray tear ran down her cheek as she fiddled with a lock of his hair. Then, without pausing to think, she grabbed a pair of scissors from the nearby workstation-not wanting to even think about what all the tools were for-and neatly snipped the lock of hair off. Wrapping a small band around it, she tucked it into her pocket.

“Goodbye, Ani.” She whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead. She stayed there for a moment longer then necessarily, before standing straight and covering him again carefully.

He was gone.

Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine sat in his office in the Senate reading through another long and lengthy report that he had completely lost interest in. The door to his office suddenly slid open and a man dashed inside. He skidded to a stop in front of Palaptine’s desk and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Palpatine raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, your Excellency, but there is terrible news from the Jedi Temple. General Skywalker is dead!”

Dead? Dead!?

“Thank you for bringing this news to me. You may leave.” He addressed the messenger who nodded, bowed his head respectfully, and left.

Palpatine growled. Dooku had betrayed him. Since learning of the Jedi’s one month deadline from Senator Amidala, he had specifically told his apprentice that Skywalker was to be returned to the Jedi at the end of that month.

Alive.

Seething with anger, the Sith Lord paced along his office window, restraining the urge to destroy something, anything. No. He would save this anger, and use it to take down Dooku. His apprentice was no longer obedient, and he would die.

A cold smile flickered over his mouth. Yes. Dooku would die.

He immediately began making preparations. He would leave as soon as the funeral was over-which he would be attending of course. He was, after, Anakin’s good friend, Chancellor Palpatine.

Obi-Wan was stood in-between Ahsoka and Padme, hood drawn up over his head. He wore a slightly darker cloak than normal-this one a lot cleaner and less damaged. Ahsoka too wore her cloak over her head, her montrals raising the fabric higher. Padme was dressed in traditional black, stunning as always, but a short veil covered the top half of her face. In the day since Anakin’s death, the news of his marriage had quickly spread since Obi-Wan had been forced to bring it to the Council’s attention, and everyone seemed to be avoiding them.

Not that he cared right now.

His only job was to keep his padawan-and by extension, himself and Padme-on the path of the Light. Somehow, they were all managing better than expected, but still somehow lightyears away from how a Jedi should react.

He blamed attachment of course, but since the reveal of Anakin’s marriage he had begun to wonder more and more why such things were forbidden. Of course, he had seen Anakin acting extremely protectively over Padme before, but that love they shared seemed to make him so much stronger, and more fixed on the Light.

If it worked for Anakin, then perhaps it could work for others as well.

He was of course, not referring to himself. He was too loyal to the Jedi way, and really he had left those kinds of feelings behind a long time ago.

Master Yoda finished giving his eulogy, traditional for Jedi funerals, and he glanced at Obi-Wan, who merely gave a slight shake of his head. There was nothing he could say, nothing he wanted to say.

Slowly, Anakin’s body, still hidden under a sheet, was lowered into the chamber below. Obi-Wan felt Padme tense beside him and reached for her hand reassuringly. Giving it a small squeeze, he watched as light raced upwards in a thin line of brightness, hitting the ceiling and spreading out above them.

Magnificent. Just as Anakin had been.

As the light died away, he saw many of the attendants start to leave. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, someone who Obi-Wan knew had a long standing friendship with Anakin, wandered over to the trio.

“Master Kenobi,” He spoke,” I am so very sorry for your loss.”

Pausing, Obi-Wan took a moment to work out his reply. “Thank you,” he managed, “I know Anakin would be glad that you are here.”

“He was a good friend.” The Chancellor agreed. He turned to Padme, “My dear senator, my door is always open if you need me.”

“Thank you Chancellor,” Padme spoke in a soft whisper, “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, my dear,” he replied. He gave Obi-Wan one last nod, and Obi-Wan bowed slightly in politeness, before he left, his guards following a pace or two behind him.

The three of them watched him leave, waiting until he was out of sight, and then Padme spoke.

“I suppose I should be leaving now.” A world-weary sigh escaped her lips, he gaze dropping to the floor.

“You’re always welcome here, Padme,” Obi-Wan reminded her.

“I know. Thank you.”

“There’s no need-we do what we can for our friends.” Padme smiled at him, a gracious smile. Obi-Wan reached behind him back and took out two item that had been hiding under his cloak.

“He would have wanted you to have these.” He held them out to Padme, who just stared at them.

One of the items was Anakin’s wedding ring, which Obi-Wan had found, as Padme had said, in one of his belt pouches.

The other, was Anakin’s lightsaber.

“I…I can’t take this,” Padme replied, gesturing at the saber.

“Yes, you can.” Obi-Wan stayed completely still until Padme relented, and cautiously picked up both items. The ring she slid onto her finger along with her own, despite it being a bit too large for her, and the saber she clenched tightly in her hands.

“Master Kenobi! Master Kenobi!” Obi-Wan turned to see a young Jedi Knight barrelling towards him. He stepped quickly out of the way as the knight skidded to a stop.

“What is it?” He asked. A tremor of fear erupted inside of him. Was there an attack? An invasion? What could it be?

“You need to come and see this,” the Knight spoke, gesturing towards the other side of the Temple. Obi-Wan exchanged a glance with Padme, and shrugged.

“Lead the way.”

“Oh wow.” Ahsoka’s voice was filled with awe as the three of them surveyed the scene below them. In the early Coruscant evening, when the skies had just darkened to a deep grey, there was no artificial lights to be seen. The planet was engulfed in blackness, and in the middle of it all, were hundreds, thousands of people. Every size, every shape, every species; they packed themselves tightly into the streets, holding candles as their only light. Some held holo-projectors which showed images of Anakin.

The whole planet, was mourning Anakin.

Obi-Wan felt a sharp sting of grief pierce his heart. This was all so unorthodox, and yet it seemed so fitting. Anakin had been well-loved by the public, and now Obi-Wan could see just how far that stretched.

As if in a trance, the three of them walked forward until only the Temple gates and a large flight of stairs separated them from the mourners. In their elevated position above the crowds, they could see just how many were clumped into the area.

There was a shout, “It’s him! It’s Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

Taken aback by being recognised, Obi-Wan shifted backwards slightly, but everyone now seemed to be looking at him. He gulped, and froze.

He didn’t know what to do. What were they expecting? A speech? Something to rally them against the Separatists? Obi-Wan had nothing, his mouth suddenly stuck together. Where was the Negotiator and his clever words now?

The people made the decision for him. Silently, in almost perfect unison, they raised their candles high towards the sky. A salute, for the war hero that Anakin was.

Beside him, Ahsoka moved first. She ignited her lightsaber, the emerald green striking in this near darkness, and raised it in a mirroring salute.

Hesitantly, Padme followed suite, fumbling to turn on Anakin’s saber but raising it just as high as Ahsoka’s, the deep blue glow filling Obi-Wan with unwanted memories.

Slowly, he reached for his own, and stared for a long moment at the hilt, conflicting thoughts racing through his mind. Then, almost unconsciously, he flicked it on.  The brilliant blue blade hummed into life, and he lifted it high, pointing it towards the sky. A glance at both Padme and Ahsoka told him all he needed to know.

For Anakin.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine may have entered his own private shuttle on Coruscant, but when he arrived at Count Dooku’s residence on Serenno, he was Darth Sidious, Lord of the Sith.

Clad in his trademark cloak, the hood pulled low over his head, he stepped out of his vessel and breathed a lungful of fresh air, much better than the recycled rubbish on ships.

He strode quickly into Dooku’s palace, following his apprentice’s Force signature, anger pulsing around him.

The doors to the large room were flung open with use of the Force, and Sidious stormed inside. Dooku turned round from where he stood at the window, an expectant look on his face. He dropped to one knee, bowing before Sidious.

“Master.”

“Traitor.” Sidious hissed. Dooku stood, facing him.

“Such accusations, my Lord.”

“I specifically told you to return him to the Jedi-alive!” He growled. Dooku did nothing.

“He perished under regrettable circumstances, master.”

“Regrettable! You stabbed him through the heart!” Anger poured out of him, hatred building and building against his now former apprentice.

Dooku gave a nonchalant shrug. “As I said, regrettable.”

“Then you shall be most understanding, my apprentice,” Sidious spat, “When I return the favour.”

Drawing his twin lightsabers, Sidious leapt towards Dooku, his deep red sabers arching towards Dooku.

Dooku had his own saber drawn in the blink of an eye, his crimson blocking Sidious’. With a demented howl, Sidious flung himself at Dooku again, matching the older man strike for strike, slipping easily from form to form. Dooku’s ancient style of fencing was classy and elegant, but it struggled against Sidious’ flowing movements.

Twisting and twirling, they danced across the floor of the room, performing acrobatic feats seemingly impossible for men their age. The blades clashed again and again in a discord of Darkness, sparks flying away from the powerful blows.

Dooku knocked one of Sidious’ golden lightsabers from his hand, and sent him flying backwards with a strong Force push. He marched towards his former master, blade levelled and ready to strike a killing blow.

Sidious laughed and dodged easily out of the way, his blade carving a deep gash along Dooku’s saber arm. Dooku growled, anger building, but his emotions were too well controlled after a lifetime with the Jedi. Sidious easily outmatched him, and he wasn’t even trying all that hard.

They clashed again, Dooku weakening slightly under the Sith’s intense strength. The fight was in Sidious’ favour, and Dooku was now realising that it always had been. With almost a last effort, he pushed Sidious’ blade back long enough for him to duck out of the way. They faced each other- Sidious prowling around his prey, waiting to pounce.

“You should be thanking me, master,” Dooku spoke, his words interrupted by small pants of exhaustion, “Skywalker was weak. He would never have embraced the Dark Side, and you would have no apprentice!”

Using Dooku’s exhaustion to his advantage, Sidious sprang at him. Dooku raised his blade and parried Sidious’ attack easily, but he could not move in time to block the second blow from Sidious’ other saber he had called back into his hand mid-flight.

The red saber pierced through Dooku’s heart, a matching blow to the one he had dealt Anakin just two days earlier. A stuttered gasp wrenched itself from Dooku’s throat as he went limp, his eyes fixed on Sidious. Then, the last edge of light left, and Dooku flopped on the floor, limbs splayed, and the scent of burning flesh hanging above him.

Sidious deactivated his sabers and clipped them back on this belt.

“If I cannot have Skywalker as my apprentice;” he hissed, standing triumphantly over Dooku’s body- heart racing, blood pumping, anger flowing.

“Then I will have none at all.”