Chapter Text
Somehow, the trial was long and drawn out, but Anakin didn’t see most of it. Sure, he was called in as a witness, but with all the evidence stashed away in both the Chancellor’s office and Palpatine’s personal quarters, it was almost too easy to convict him.
Besides, Anakin was needed on the frontlines, fighting the rapidly disintegrating forces of the Seperatists. In a way, he was glad for it; it left him less time to think about all that had happened.
An entire galactic war, caused by one man. And for what? What had been the point? More power, probably, but... well, Anakin wasn’t sure he could even find himself in that anymore.
When he was younger, he had hungered for power. For validation.
Now though, he felt almost... empty. Maybe it was just what he’d seen absolute power could lead to, maybe it was how many people he’d seen die. Maybe it was guilt over what he’d almost done.
Because he’d been so close to giving in to the call of the Dark Side. Seeing his former mentor, his former friend, having a sabre pointed at his neck has almost raised something primal in him. Especially with all that Palpatine had said about saving Padmé.
And truth be told, he still got those nightmares. Still dreamed of Padmé dying in childbirth. But they didn’t feel prophetic anymore, instead they were normal nightmares. They still left him gasping at night when he woke up, drenched in sweat. Yet they didn’t leave him with that sinking feeling in his stomach he’d come to associate with them. Just... normal dread, from any ordinary nightmare.
Did mean he slept any better, though. The war raged on, perhaps fiercer than ever.
Cornered animals, and all that.
And he still saw clones, friends, die around him nearly every day. And on the days that he didn’t, he knew there were still people dying. Just because he didn’t see them, didn’t mean they weren’t there, and he was painfully aware of that.
But besides that, he mostly felt numb. He longed for feeling again, but something in him was scared to. He’d seen firsthand what his emotions could do. He knew all too well what could’ve happened had he let them get away from him.
That was it, wasn’t it?
Emotion.
The Jedi preached stoicism, the Sith hatred. He wanted neither. He’d tried to be stoic, to let nothing affect him, and it had slowly killed him. Leading to bursts of emotion that had Obi-Wan either scrambling to stop him from doing something stupid or cleaning up after the fact.
And he’d seen what hatred could lead to. Had felt the pull of the Dark Side and had known what would’ve happened. Not in details, but he knew he would’ve ended up somewhere without Padmé. Without Obi-Wan.
But what then? What could he do that wasn’t being a Jedi? He wasn’t cut out to be one, as the Council had said all those years ago.
Perhaps that wasn’t true, not entirely. When he was younger, he’d needed something like the Jedi Order. Something to pull him away from Tatooine, and to teach him things. Stimulate his mind and body in a productive way.
Still, that was then. He’d grown, and yet he hadn’t changed at all. He was still the reckless, hot-headed, too honest young boy he’d been in the Outer Rim. He just wore better clothes now.
It was these thoughts that were his constant companions over the last months of the war.
Besides strategy, missing Padmé and Obi-Wan and the pain of watching yet another clone go down... he just felt lost.
Alone.
Even when they finally took down the last holdouts of Seperatists, even when he got the word he wasn’t needed on the battlefield anymore, even when he held Padmé in his arms again... nothing felt right anymore.
He wandered through the halls of the Temple in a fugue state. Attending meetings, accepting awards, even speaking at a few press conferences. None of it really... stuck.
And those thoughts only got louder the closer Padmé got to giving birth. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t be a present father and husband with the restrictions from the Jedi Order. He wanted to be able to kiss Padmé in public, hold their child and show the world that, yes, they were in love.
Apparently, during one of those meetings discussing what was to become of the clones, he’d been projecting it a bit too loudly into the Force.
Obi-Wan cornered him after.
“Padawan-mine... what is on your mind?”
“I’m not your padawan anymore.” He answered, though with none of the teasing joy he would previously say it with.
Obi-Wan frowned. “You are unwell, Anakin. Tell me, what is bothering you?”
The whole of it had come spilling out at that point. The fear and the pain of keeping his relationship a secret, even from his Master. How scared he’d been when the war started. How he’d felt the screams in the Force of all the clones who died. All that had happened between him and Palpatine, and how close he’d been to following him to the Dark Side. The nightmares, and the endless nights of no sleep.
And the feeling of being lost, numb and alone. Purposeless.
Obi-Wan nodded calmly. “Perhaps, Anakin, you are not meant for the Jedi life at all.”
Anakin had looked up at that, surprised to feel tears on his cheeks. Had he been crying?
“You are a good fighter, my dear, but you are not meant to hide your emotions. I have seen it for years, but I have always tried to teach you anyway. For your sake, as much as mine. I will be honest and admit to how selfish it was of me to keep you on, even when I should have let you go.”
Anakin shook his head quickly. “No. No, I don’t think that’s selfish. I think it’s... well, normal. To want to keep someone you... you care about.” He took a deep breath. “But... I think you might be right. I think I don’t fit with the Jedi anymore, if I ever did.”
Without asking, Obi-Wan grabbed a hold of Anakin’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “My friend, I will gladly let you go now, if it means seeing you happy again.”
“I don’t want to lose you.” Anakin whispered back, tears still falling. “I can’t, not... not after everything.” His mind went back to all the people he’d lost; his mother, Qui-Gon, clones under his command, Ahsoka. Losing Obi-Wan would be his undoing, he was certain of that. The only constant in his life since he’d been taken away from Tatooine.
Obi-Wan nodded and just rubbed his back in slow circles. “We’ll find something for you. You won’t lose me, Anakin, I promise.”
He clung closer to his Master; arms wrapped around his brother-in-arms as if he were a young 9-year-old after a nightmare again. Tears continued to stream down his cheeks as his breathing hitched.
In that moment, everything seemed to be crashing down onto him. The war, the years before, the time spent under Watto’s ownership. All the fear of not being enough, of never being able to keep his promise to free slaves.
Wait, what if he could do that? What if he could fulfil his promise? Not as a Jedi, because the Jedi were tied to the Republic, and the Republic held no power in the Outer Rim. But... well, maybe he could. He had learned much under the Jedi’s tutelage, skills that he could certainly implement in other ways too.
Wiping the tears from his face, he felt a wave of relief washing over him. For the first time since he’d caught Palpatine, he felt he had a purpose again.
He wouldn’t be able to do it alone, of course, but... what about the clones?
They would need a purpose too, and this might be just what they needed. Though... they were with many. Maybe too many. But, perhaps not all of them wanted to keep fighting. Perhaps some would want to live life the way citizens of the galaxy did.
Yes, that might be it. He would need to discuss it with Padmé, of course. And see if she could do something for the clones politically.
Obi-Wan looked at him knowingly. “What do you have in mind, dear one?”
“I... I’ll make good on my promise to my mother, all those years ago.”
His Master nodded, being well aware of what promise Anakin was referring to. “That sounds wonderful, Anakin. That will suit you very well. Just... be careful, okay? And come back regularly?”
Those last bits sounded strangely emotional coming from his stoic Jedi Master. But Anakin knew better. He might have been the one crying, but Obi-Wan had come close as well. Obi-Wan wasn’t as stoic and aloof as he pretended to be.
They stayed in each other’s arms for a minute longer, each revelling in the contact and comfort.
Anakin walked through the Temple towards the hangar where his speeder was parked. He remembered some years ago, when he’d first gotten it from Obi-Wan. How happy he’d felt to finally have his own vehicle again.
And he remembered, too, how on more than one occasion, Obi-Wan had used it to help him recover from emotional moments. Allowing him to work past his emotions in a healthy and productive manner; fixing up his speeder. Even in the last few years, he’d sometimes done that himself.
When he couldn’t tell Obi-Wan of his marriage.
When he couldn’t tell Obi-Wan about Padmé’s pregnancy.
When he couldn’t sleep at night because of the visions.
Although by now, it was less ‘fixing up’ and more ‘improving upon’. Even if he had to still obey the speed limits of Coruscant (most of the time), he was determined to make his speeder the fastest there was. And the best defended, with hidden weapons in it’s flanks. Just in case.
He got in and lifted off.
Padmé’s apartment was already visible in the distance, but even without the Force guiding him, he would have been able to get there on muscle memory alone.
Within minutes, he was stepping out of his beloved speeder again, and walking towards the lift that would carry him to the highest level; where Padmé lived. With purpose finally lacing his steps again, he walked to the door and keyed in the code. “Padmé? Are you home?”
“Yes, in here.” Came her voice from the balcony. “I saw your speeder.”
He approached her and kissed her squarely on the lips, all his love being poured into that one moment of contact. Padmé responded easily, then smiled teasingly when they broke apart.
“What was that all about?”
“I’m resigning.” Anakin blurted out. “I won’t be a Jedi anymore.”
Padmé face fell. “What? No, Ani, you can’t do that.”
He shook his head and kissed her temple. “My heart doesn’t lie with them anymore. It lies with you, and our baby.”
“But, Ani... what will you do then?”
Anakin smiled, the first true smile he’d shown Padmé in weeks. Maybe months. “I’ll free the slaves on Tatooine.”
Padmé seemed to be processing that for a second, before a small, bemused smile graced her lips. “You’ll become a vigilante?”
“Something like that.” He chuckled. “I once made a promise to my mother. That when I became a Jedi, I would free all the slaves. Well, I’m a Jedi. I can go fulfil my promise.”
“But... Ani, are you sure? You would have to leave all of this behind.”
“I am sure.” He kissed her temple again. “I just want to be with you, Padmé, and our child. I want to be able to hold your hand in public. All this hiding, I want it to stop. Maybe I wasn’t ever meant to be a Jedi.”
“What about Obi-Wan?”
“I’ve already spoken to him. He’s given me his blessing.”
At that, Padmé finally smiled properly. “That’s wonderful, Ani.”