"I will give power unto my two witnesses, and they shall prophesy a thousand two hundred and threescore days, clothed in sackcloth. These are the two olive trees, and the two candlesticks standing before the God of the earth. And if any man will hurt them, fire proceedeth out of their mouth, and devoureth their enemies: and if any man will hurt them, he must in this manner be killed." -Revelations, 11:3

Mary was so afraid when she found out she was pregnant. A part of her wanted to throw up –not because of the morning sickness (oddly enough, she never experienced any); it was the realization that she was going to be a mother. Something she was wholly unprepared for.

She tried to convince her father that she was a virgin, innocent as the day she came into this world. Untouched by man. But her father, being her father, didn't believe her. She could barely look at her mother who was completely disappointed in her. Finally one day, when Mary attempted to explain to her what had happened, she broke.

"You ruined everything. I should have known. You have your father's blood after all."

Nothing hurt Mary more than hearing her mother indirectly calling her a whore. She waited until everyone was asleep so she could slip from the castle.

Everything was a mess. Her father had gotten his annulment. He was going to marry that Francophile, English rose, Anne Boleyn; she and her mother were the laughing stock of Christendom, and on top of that, the child in her womb faced a life of great uncertainty.

Making her way through the woods, she stopped. She didn't know how long she had walked, only that her legs were about to collapse.

Mary had gazed at the moon that night, wondering if God had heard her prayers and would send his angel of death so he could take her and her unborn child to him. But death never came.

Mary was found on the morrow by two guards, shivering from the cold. Her mother was sick with worry. She was still angry at her, but seeing her daughter so frail, had softened her a bit.

After her father had his longed for male heir with Anne Boleyn followed by a daughter, things to slightly better. Henry increased her pension and sent her a nursemaid for when her child arrived. The prospect of being a grandfather, even to a bastard, no longer felt unpleasant.

When the day came, Mary's fears about her child evaporated.

Healthy looking with her dark grey eyes and fair skin, Mary marveled at the beautiful creature she delivered.

"Have you ever seen something so beautiful?" She asked her mother. The former Queen was taken with emotion. She told Mary about her brother, the babe she had lost less than two months after she gave birth to him. Mary told her mother she would call her child 'Henry' after her brother and father but Catherine was against it.

"What name then? It can't be Arthur. That will be reserved for a future legitimate offspring of my father's line with that woman." Mary said, refusing to call Anne by her new title of Queen, knowing how that would upset her mother. "And it can't be any of the other traditional royal names."

It was a tough decision to make. Thankfully, they had a former handmaiden whom the republic had rescued and brought to Earth to live in one of the less violent kingdoms. Her name was Shmni Skywalker and besides Susan, she was Mary's best friend.

Shmni proposed the name of "Anakin". "It means gift from the sky." She explained to them.

Mary ended up naming her baby Anakin. As the years went by, Anakin grew close to Shmni. She was his nanny and after his mother, she was the person he loved the most.

The former princess didn't see it as a problem until the Jedi came and with them, that damn succubus. If only their paths had never crossed!

Mary knew she was trouble the moment her son laid eyes on her. But Shmni! Good hearted and naïve Shmni, told Anakin to follow her heart. And to everyone's detriment, he did. The worst thing Mary ever did was listening to her best friend. Also convinced by the gallant promises of the Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn, she gave her son up to be trained as Jedi.

For once, Catherine was in agreement with Shmni Skywalker. Mary had done the right thing. Anakin could achieve her true potential as a galactic protector. Mary wished she could believe that. But her mother had never been wrong before so for her sanity's sake, Mary chose to go along with what her mother said.

Mary Tudor received many offers of marriage. Most of them she turned down until her father invited one of the German League's honored guests. Two years after her mother's death and one after Anne's; Henry VIII had entered negotiations to marry Anna von Kleves. She always wore over-sized gowns and had a difficult time communicating with her husband's subjects. But after half a year of struggling, the new Queen Anne adapted herself to her husband's country. This new development led to a growing influence. Aided by the English Protestant faction, Anne convinced the King to invite her cousin.

Mary wasn't interested in meeting another suitor but her father was incredibly insistent. Out of all of her friends she was the only one who wasn't married. Shmni had married the rake Thomas Seymour while Susan had married a more respectable man at court.

In the end, like everything else, it didn't matter. Shmni's death sent him down the rabbit hole. Encouraged by that two-faced pretty politician, he became more ambitious, coveting things he couldn't –and should never- have.

Mary tried to drill common sense into him. Shmni and her husband's deaths were an accident. But Anakin went off the rails. He blamed it on his grandfather for agreeing with the republican officials who sent them on that suicide mission on Tatooine. He killed an entire village of Tusken Raiders and after that, poisoned Gardulla the Hutt, leaving Jabba as the new crime boss of that scummy planet.

Night after night, Mary prayed that her mother had not been right. Before she died, she said she had a vision. She told Mary that she saw Anakin's father. "That is impossible. Anakin has no father. I told you."

"No, he has and he will use him to spread his evil across the galaxy. He is a child of darkness, Mary. You know what you must do."

Mary refused to believe her mother. But the blindfold fell from her eyes when Anakin massacred everyone at the Jedi Temple, including innocent children. After hearing what had happened to his wife and unborn child, he beckoned her to come to his new chambers. His face was partly burned. Instead of one robotic hand, he now had too.

Things were going to change –he promised her. Together, he swore, they would rule a galaxy where decency and fairness would be the rule of law. Mary wished she could believe him. She really did. But after everything she'd witnessed and heard, she knew in her heart what she had to do.


The last things that pass through her mind was her father carrying her in his arms, showing her off to the French ambassadors, crying "She never cries." It was then and there that she was nicknamed the "pearl", that she became her father's most precious possession.

Good times. Holding tightly unto life, she closed her eyes and let herself be lost in that sea of memories.

She was thirty five. She and Philip had been blessed at last with a child. Anakin and her had finally gotten used to the idea of their respective spouses. The Jedi let him visit his mother. He brought with him his apprentice, an alien girl Ashoka Tano who was every bit of impetuous as him.
Anakin was happy to be a big brother. Mary named her newborn son John after her mother's lost brother.

John was four years old. He clapped his hands at Anakin. So much of John reminded her of Anakin when he was his age. Philip was always there for them. The boy was his spitting image, except for his eyes, which were dark grey like hers and his half-brother's. Every time John excelled in his studies, Philip gave him a gift. John loved his father's gifts but loved his brother's praises more.

After losing his apprentice, Anakin welcomed his brother's company.

Mary opened her eyes. There, in the corner, was John. Staring at her as if she was a complete stranger. She did not smile or asked for the stormtroopers to bring him to her. She'd much rather see him like this. Cold and detached than show weakness before this dark clothed monster that had replaced his brother.

God is on my side, was Philip's motto. Philip. Poor lovesick fool. He died as he lived, fighting. Bavaria, if it still exists, will be proud to know that he gave honor to his nickname. Philip "the warrior". They will sing songs of him. Of the enemies he battled, the ones he defeated and the one he couldn't because of the woman he gave his heart to.

Not a single tear fell from her eye. She was as her father always said, the girl who never cries. Mother, here I come …

One last prayer before she went, she begged God to help her son find the light … There is good in him, I know it. I can feel it; he can still be saved.