298Thunder boomed above them, its deep rumble making the ground beneath Anakin's boots tremble. The gentle swaying of the tree branches had turned violent, thrashing under the increasing force of the wind. In the distance, lightning flashed, a blinding streak of white cutting through the deepening grey sky. Anakin knew they couldn't stay out here much longer. He glanced at Captain Rex, who raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry and he understood the unspoken question immediately on his friend's face.
Vader and the Council might not appreciate the slight delay they faced on their transition to Naboo, but it was far better than risking his men getting sick or injured working through a storm. "Alright," the Supreme Commander called out, bringing his troops to attention. "Pack it up, boys! We're done for the day! Let's get out of here before this storm really hits!"
Soldiers in white and blue armour flitted around, gathering weapons and tearing down the makeshift blockades set up to replicate something of a battlefield as the 501st soldiers completed the new training requirements set out by Vader. With the Rebels still a threat, his brother wanted to be ready for any strike the traitors could be planning, especially if they were stupid enough to make a move at the coronation. Anakin wasn't worried. His new battalion was competent in what had to be done and soon the next would be shipped out to Naboo and on and on until Padme and the baby were comfortable travelling back to Coruscant.
A tingle of excitement and terror rushed through Anakin in equal measure as he thought about the baby. Padme was perfectly healthy. Every doctor they had consulted had confirmed she and the child were thriving. Everything was fine. No, things were perfect. But that didn't stop him from waking up almost every night sweating and panting with his wife's screams ringing in his ears.
His mother died in childbirth and nobody seemed to understand why. Everything he knew about Shmi Skywalker suggested she was in perfect health before delivering him and Vader. Such deaths were rare but they happened. It was in his own cursed blood to kill a labouring mother. The closer they came to his child's birth, the more Anakin dreamed of Padme in agony, sweating and writhing – begging him for help he couldn't give. His gloved hands began to shake. Short of insisting upon a surgical delivery, there was nothing he could do and force knew Padme had made her opinions on that matter clear. Like her mother and grandmother before her, she wanted as natural of a birthing experience as possible.
"It's women's work!" Jobal had patted his shoulder, smiling affectionately at his clueless naivete, "Between myself, Sola and the midwife, we're going to get along just fine."
Apparently, tradition on Naboo demanded the room was filled with supportive female relatives. Having the child's father in the room was considered strange and disruptive to the soothing feminine energy… or at least, that's what Sola said over dinner several weeks ago. But Padme made it clear she wanted him by her side, and force was he glad. If something went wrong, he wanted to be there. There might be something he could do to help!
All he cared about was that Padme and the baby were safe. He needed them alive and by his side. If something happened… he couldn't even bring himself to imagine. Anakin knew, to his bones, to his very soul, that he couldn't live without Padme. She was his soulmate. His partner and only love. Whatever it took to keep her by his side, he would do without hesitation.
Padme had been so patient in her reassurance. Everything was different this time, it wasn't like it was with Luis. This baby was going to live and be so utterly beloved, no child in the galaxy would know such love. She would never question her place in her parents' hearts, not for one second of her life if Anakin could help it. He was going to make sure his daughter – yes, a daughter, he thought with a wry grin – never knew a fraction of the loneliness and suffering he and Vader had in childhood. Hers would be pure and untainted. He would rather die right here and now than see such terror inflicted upon his child.
Glancing down at himself, Anakin visualised the thick, jagged scars from years of force lightening by his own father's hand. How could Sidious have done that to his own sons? More than ever, he questioned the seemingly limitless depths of evil inside that man. He was poisoned from the inside out, he was sure of it.
A sudden buzzing pulled the brooding Prince free of his thoughts just as the sky opened to welcome the first fat droplets of rain. He smiled softly, Padme was probably comming to hurry him home before the storm stranded him in the base for the night. As if he'd let that happen…
Answering, he lifted his wrist and glanced downwards at Artoo who cried out at the raindrops sliding down his gleaming dome. "Go inside and help them out, buddy. Stay dry. I know you'll make sure it's all done right." His friend beeped and took full advantage of the recent tinkering Anakin had done, installing specialised rocket thrusters which allowed him to lift and fly down the hill they stood upon rather than rolling precariously downward into the grass.
He watched the droid go, smiling, and returned his attention to the comm connecting through his private channel just as Ahsoka's frantic voice burst through the line. "Anakin? Are you there?"
"I'm here, Snips," he walked a few steps down the hill. "We're just packing up for the day now. Tell Padme that I – "
"The baby is coming!" His apprentice cried out, "You need to get back here right now!" A distant cry of pain flooded through the channel and he heard Ahsoka wince. "I've already reached out to the midwife, she says she's on her way so try not to panic too much, Skyguy."
He didn't need to be told twice. Anakin muttered a quick reassurance and severed the line. It was happening. It was happening! But the baby wasn't due for a few more weeks but she was coming today… hell, she was coming right now! His knees wobbled dangerously, almost sending the Supreme Commander toppling to the dampening grass as the rain began to grow more forceful. His black under armour soaked through within moments.
He ran a gloved hand through his wet hair and exhaled, his very lungs quivering from the effort. Lifting his comm once again, Anakin connected with his most trusted Captain. "Rex! Listen to me, you're in charge. I have to get back. Padme… fuck, the baby is coming. I have to go."
"Say no more, sir," his second in command's gruff voice floated through the device. "Get outta here. I've got everything covered."
Thank the force the expansive land King Thule granted them for the base wasn't far from his house at all. The few miles seemed to pass by in a blur as Anakin sped his cruiser through the peaceful area at its full power and speed. The engine roared as he pushed it to its absolute limits, expertly dodging and curving around other ships as they all raced home to get out of the storm. There were screams and curses at his recklessness – but Anakin couldn't care less. His wife needed him right now!
The very moment the cruiser hovered low enough, he threw himself out of the still-opening cockpit and raced inside. Ahsoka met him outside his bedroom, smiling nervously as she wrung her orange hands together. Her excitement and nervousness penetrated the thick haze of his own, amplifying everything he felt. "Anakin! I just heard from the midwife, she said the storm is already too bad to get out of Theed so – "
"What?" He hissed, "So she's not coming? The storm isn't that bad yet, she could easily – "
The rain hammered against the hallway window with relentless force, pounding against the glass. As if the force itself wished to torture him personally, it chose that very moment for the wind to pick up, howling outside and driving that battering rain sideways. The window frame shuddered under the assault and a sudden, violent gust burst the whole thing open with a loud crash, flinging droplets of water across the room. He cursed, lifting a hand to shield himself and Ahsoka as the curtains instantly began to billow, lifting high as they caught in the wind, twisting and flapping wildly. The rain kept pouring in, drenching everything it touched.
Well, fuck.
No midwife meant no professional aid with the delivery! It meant if something went wrong, there would be nobody there who knew how to properly to help. His mother had a team of eight doctors and four midwives and she died despite their help – what the hell were they going to do without one? Anakin began to shake. His thoughts began to cloud and grow confused and overwhelmed. Calm down. You need to calm down.
"Force…" Ahsoka surveyed the damage for a moment. "Look, she said she was going to reach out to a colleague of hers nearby to come and assist but couldn't make any guarantees on how long it'll take." She touched his shoulder warily. "Everything is going to be fine, Anakin."
Gulping down a lungful of air was nearly impossible, but he made himself do it twice as his panic threatened to spiral. "How is Padme? Is she alright?" He ran a gloved hand over his face. So far she had been the calm and rational one of them throughout her pregnancy. Whenever they were around others, there was only excitement and joy about their child, but Anakin sensed the fear she tried to bury beneath a shield of happiness. He knew that in the quiet moments, alone with her thoughts, she was as afraid of the past repeating itself as he was.
"She seemed a little afraid, but that's probably normal, right? I can't imagine I would be feeling too brave in her position," Ahsoka winced. "She was asking for you, Skyguy. You should probably get in there."
He felt cold and it had nothing to do with the rain-soaked clothes clinging to his body.
"Thanks, Snips," he squeezed her small shoulder and hurried inside the bedroom he and Padme shared, bursting through the door to find his wife settled on the bed in only a simple, long-sleeved nightgown made of a soft navy fabric. The sheets had been torn off and sat folded neatly on the long windowsill to avoid the trails to come forever ruining them. A tip from her mother, if he remembered correctly.
"Angel, I'm here!" He panted. "I'm here! I got here as fast as I could!"
She was fine, the realisation swept through him powerfully. She was sitting up and looking at him and breathing and she was fine! They were going to get through this together and when it was all over, they were going to have a baby in their arms.
Breathe, Anakin, just breathe.
Kicking off his boots, he eased onto the bed beside her and stroked a hand through her hair. Padme opened her mouth to speak but her eyebrows knitted together as a burst of pain crashed through her body so powerfully that he sensed its ghost touch throughout his own body. Grasping her hand, Anakin endured her squeezing as she panted and groaned through the agony until it eased enough for her breathing to resume normally.
"I'm… I'm okay, Ani, I promise," she panted, "My mother said that she and Sola are on the way, but I don't want them travelling if the storm is too bad. Do you think it's safe out there?" Such concern shone in her eyes that his heart constricted. He didn't want her worrying about anything or anyone but herself and the baby right now. It was long past time Padme was a little selfish.
"It's not that bad yet," he lied smoothly, "Just some heavy rain. Ahsoka told me the midwife is sending her friend. I wish I knew her name so Sabe could vet her before her arrival."
"Stop it," she laughed breathlessly, "I'm sure she's perfectly qualified, Ani."
"Forgive me for wanting to be sure we aren't trusting some untrained hack with you and the baby," he muttered, but his train of thought grew silent as Padme lurched forward as another contraction tore through her, tearing a pained cry from her open mouth. "Angel, what can I do? How can I help?" Anakin's heart pounded in his chest and he felt utterly useless. Padme's cries of pain cut through the air like a lightsaber, and every one of them twisted inside him like a searing wound. He wanted to comfort her, to ease her suffering but how could he? He didn't know how or what to do!
He clenched his free hand into a fist. He didn't like to feel useless. Like a spare part getting in the way. All his life he'd been good at fixing things but this time, his quick mind was empty save for roaring panic and twinging guilt. This was the most important moment of their lives… and he was no better than a bystander. Completely powerless as he watched the woman he loved howl in pain.
His every instinct roared at his incompetence. He should be protecting her! He should have learned a way to use the force to take away her pain – none of his research had gotten anywhere, but he should have tried harder! All he could do was murmur words of pride and encouragement, hold her hand and pray the new midwife arrived soon. He knew they should have shipped a midwife droid out here just in case! Why didn't Padme listen to him?
His wide eyes flicked to his wife's flushed face as it contorted with the pain and felt his guilt increase tenfold. He would give anything to take on a mere fraction of her discomfort – hell he would gladly take her place, even for a moment, if the force or nature allowed it. Instead, Anakin squeezed her fingers tightly, trying to pour every ounce of love and pride he felt, wishing it could make a difference.
"Just stay with me," Padme whimpered when she was able to speak again.
"I'm not going anywhere," he kissed her knuckles and willed himself to remember to breathe again. Everything he felt was nothing in comparison to what she was enduring, even if on the inside his bones were quivering. He couldn't let her see his panic, not now. "I'm staying right here, my love," he promised.
"I can't believe this is happening," Padme rubbed her swollen stomach lovingly, "We're having a baby…"
"Yeah…" his voice wavered as he swallowed down a fresh onslaught of anxiety. An infant in his arms, gazing up at him for love and guidance for the rest of his life… Oh, force… No! He had to be strong! Do not show her you're afraid! "We're finally going to see if we have a Prince or Princess," he forced himself to grin, "I hope you're prepared for disappointment."
Somehow Padme found the strength to laugh as she enjoyed the momentary peace from her pains and rested her head on his shoulder. "I could never be disappointed. So long as they're happy and healthy, I'll be overjoyed."
Happy and healthy. That was right. That was all they needed. A healthy, happy little baby.
Please… he prayed, just as yet another wracked her body, I'm begging you to keep them safe. Don't take them away from me. I'll do whatever you want. Whatever you ask, just please protect them. Give me the strength to help Padme through this. That's all I ask.
"Push… Push… That's it, Padme! Come on now, dear, one last big push!" Wina, the sweet, older midwife urged. From her position crouched between Anakin's legs, he could make out her greying, black hair pinned up behind her head and the dark skin of her arms. "You're so close now! I can see the head! Just a little more!
Drenched in sweat and tears, Padme howled through the agony, squeezing Anakin's hand so tightly, that he had to disguise his wince beneath a forced cough to avoid the scathing glares of Jobal and Sola. The last time he murmured about feeling any discomfort, he'd thought they were going to lunge for him! For two women who were so warm and kind, they were utterly terrifying when they were angry.
A shared trait in Naberrie women, apparently.
Padme pushed and pushed, grasping for every ounce of strength her straining body had left before slumping back into Anakin's waiting arms. He sensed her draining energy and held her closer and tighter. Suddenly, a ragged, piercing wail shrieked out and Sola laughed breathlessly, holding her hands over her mouth. "You've done it!" She cried, "Padme, you have a baby!"
"What is it?" She whimpered, forcing her heavy eyes open just enough to glance between him and the squirming little lump Wina carried to the basin Jobal prepared earlier. Both grandmother and their midwife fussed over the child with their backs facing the bed, denying Anakin a glimpse of the baby. "Ani, is he alright?" Padme's eyes grew pleading and he nodded, stroking her damp hair softly. The little one's force signature was shockingly new and so wonderfully familiar both at once. He reached out with his own, caressing his child to soothe its shock and soothe whatever upset they might be feeling.
Force, it was strong! Much like their lungs, the baby's life force was robust and hearty, and he sensed no weakness or illness – only life and more than a little fury at the inconvenience of birth. Anakin couldn't help but laugh. The room seemed to spin all around him as he kissed his wife's forehead. "She's fine," he promised, "Padme, she's absolutely perfect!"
"She…?" Her beautiful brown eyes blinked and looked searchingly at the freshly wrapped bundle in Jobal's protective arms. Such fierce pride and love shone in her mother's eyes, Anakin felt his own begin to sting.
"Yes, my darling," Jobal nodded softly, "You have a baby girl."
Anakin helped Padme sit up a little straighter and finally, the baby was passed into her mother's waiting arms, Sola politely excused herself to update Ruwee, Darred and Ahsoka of their new arrival. Anakin didn't care where anyone was or went, he couldn't tear his eyes from the tiny, pink little person Padme held to her chest. Her delicate features scrunched up and relaxed as she became used to breathing and squirming, kicking up and punching the air as if in the heat of battle. Their own little soldier.
"Oh, Ani look at her!" Padme whispered, stroking the baby's small nose with her fingertip. "She's so beautiful…"
Force, she was, wasn't she? His heart quivered and somehow seemed to expand to welcome this little creature inside and it was as natural and easy as breathing air into his lungs. This little girl… his baby girl was just… force, she was the most wonderful, amazing sight he ever saw How… how had he ever gone a day not knowing her? "She's perfect…" He reached down, allowing a small, pink fist to wrap around his finger, squeezing with all her might though the pressure was barely felt.
"Do you have a name yet?" Wina smiled from the foot of the bed, "What should the galaxy call their new little Princess?"
He met Padme's eye and she nodded, smiling brightly. There was only ever one name they discussed for a girl since she found out she was carrying again, the only name that called to them and felt right. After all, he suggested it back when she was pregnant with Luis. Stroking his fingers across the soft tufts of dark hair on his daughter's head, Anakin, for once, was fully at peace.
"Leia," he smiled proudly, "Princess Leia."
"Oh look at her!" Padme's mother wept over the child in her arms, "She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen!" Beside the elder Naberrie woman, Padme sat comfortably in a deep blue robe beneath the sheets of her bed, smiling at her daughter with such love, Vader had never seen her look so happy before. The women giggled and cooed over his new niece, soon to be announced to the galaxy as, her Imperial Highness, Princess Leia Shmi Amidala Skywalker. For now, however, she was merely a child in the arms of her attentive family.
Vader watched the projection through a scowl.
The recording spun shakily around to the other side of the room, where Ruwee Naberrie slung an arm around Anakin's neck and forced a glass of something amber into his brother's hand. "This is a day you'll never forget, son," the old man laughed as their glasses clinked, "Fatherhood will be the making of you, you'll see!" As the two shared a quiet laugh, the footage travelled through the room in a gentle glide and zoomed in on the little Princess' sleeping face.
"Artoo," Anakin's voice came in the thickness of unfinished laughter as he slid onto the bed beside Padme, who gladly passed the child into his arms and stroked an affectionate hand up and down his back, "Make sure you send this to Vader. I want him to know she's here before anyone else."
"Thankfully, she's all Padme and not you, Skyguy," the apprentice sniggered, appearing from nowhere to smile down at the child, "You'd make one ugly girl."
"She has both our features and she's perfect," Padme laughed and ran her fingers up and down Anakin's arm, "And you would make a beautiful girl, Ani." The room was full of raucous laughter until the door of the veranda burst open suddenly, colliding with the wall with a fierce clatter. Likely an effect of the enduring storm, he was sure. The sound seemed to startle the baby awake with a shrill cry and the footage came to a startling end, shutting Vader out from the sweet family moments out on Naboo. He was no more a part of the intimate celebration than the spectators across the galaxy awaiting news on the Princess' birth.
It was only natural, he supposed, shoulders sagging, even with their relationship strengthened once more, that Anakin would drift toward his wife's family and the one he was building for himself instead of relying upon the bond they shared. Things were different now and could never be the same again now that his brother had a child of his own. He thought of the content, adoring smile Anakin wore while holding Leia and settled backwards in his seat, sighing. How nice it must be, to have something so pure and innocent to love…
Even if it pained him, even if something harsh and bitter resented Anakin for having everything he was denied, Vader was happy for his brother.
I hope you enjoy it, Anakin, he thought, I hope it's everything you wanted it to be.
For now, his own attentions were focused on the plans of his coronation.
That would be his joy.
Triumphant music swelled from the depths of the throne room, rising loud and powerful as the grand doors slid open, revealing the Emperor to his honoured guests. All of them were draped in the finest, most extravagant clothes that credits could buy. The throne room, usually a stark and empty space, was now teeming with Senators, Kings, Queens, and aristocrats from across the galaxy, all summoned from a list Vader himself had not seen or approved. To him, these people did not matter. They were mere spectators to the inevitable will of destiny and the force itself.
Vader alone had been chosen. He had been deemed worthy to ascend the throne and bear the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. Sidious' journals had revealed everything, and as vile as his father had been, he had recognized Vader's strength and the raw power and fierce discipline that had always come naturally to him, unlike Anakin who had to be taught restraint.
Every soul in the galaxy, from their first breath to their last, walked a path laid out by the force, a path crafted in deliberate, purposeful steps toward their ultimate destiny, whether it was tragic, triumphant or purely mundane. The will of the force would always prevail.
Vader took a deep, steadying breath, his chest rising with the weight of the moment. Hovercams darted through the air around him, capturing his every movement and broadcasting his triumph to the people across the galaxy. Today, he was finally being given everything he had been denied for so long. From this moment onwards, his glorious purpose would be fulfilled, without question or resistance. Yet despite his resolute determination, he felt this fate pressing heavily on his shoulders as he took his first steps into the throne room, each stride drawing him closer to what had called to him since birth. Ahead, the grand, silver throne awaited – empty and inviting.
At last, his moment had come.
As he passed, the crowd lowered to their knees in a choreographed display of fealty and allegiance to their new ruler, remaining in place until the crown was settled upon Vader's head. Behind him, his deep red cloak, bearing the royal emblem of his House, slid smoothly over the cold floor as he approached the base of the throne, where Mas Amedda stood waiting, for once without his ceremonial staff in hand.
Lowering to his knees, Vader dared a brief glance over his shoulder as the ancient rites were chanted. In the first row of spectators, Padme knelt beside Anakin and the galaxy's new Princess slept peacefully in her mother's arms. From his brother, Vader sensed a powerful surge of excitement, pride and love. He allowed those emotions to wash over him, dispelling any remaining tension or hesitation as he straightened to face his destiny.
This was a new beginning.