Work Text:
Anakin was dying. He didn’t just feel it in the pain in his body, in the weakness taking hold, but in the loss of what he used to know. The loss of her.
Padmé was dying. She didn’t just feel it in the pain in her body, in the weakness taking hold, but in the loss of what she used to know. The loss of him.
He lay on the bank of that river of fire on Mustafar, and he burned, and she… she was slipping from him. She already had been. She’d betrayed him. Hadn’t wanted to join him. Couldn’t see what he was doing!
She was glad to let the darkness take her. And maybe that darkness was all Anakin’s. She’d lost him already, but now he was truly gone. He’d hurt her, and even now he was killing her. Something was being taken from her, and she didn’t know how to take it back.
Anakin survived, and he hated it. I should be dead! She’s probably dead. Because of me.
I just hope he’s dead, that he’s not suffering. Even now, filled with pain in her heart, Padmé didn’t want the man she had loved so much to suffer. But then again… that man was gone.
Anakin wanted her to live.
Padmé wanted the man who was lost to her and to everyone to live, to come back.
Anakin grew weaker.
Padmé grew weaker.
He pulled life from her.
She tried to fight it, but part of her didn’t want to.
Anakin died being worked on, Darth Sidious trying to make him anew.
Padmé died bringing two lives into the galaxy.
They didn’t meet each other in death, their souls forever severed by the dark side, that emptiness better to them than any hurt.