Chapter Text
The Force has taken pity on you. The death marks on your arm are the true name of the being destined to kill you. Do not be too quick to cast judgement. Mistakes will be made, but that future is not set in stone. Use the knowledge wisely.
This was what every single person in the galaxy dreamed. Those whose night cycles did not coincide, fell into a short coma, only to wake up with the condemning words on their arm. Hours later, the governments were compiling data, the news sites were broadcasting, and the Jedi were meeting.
Anakin Skywalker was actually asleep at the appropriate time, for once, and when he woke up next to his wife, he smiled contentedly. He wasn't due to do anything today, so he had promised Padme that he would be there when she woke up. He decided to get dressed though, so if someone called he wouldn't have to explain why he was half naked in her bedroom. Desperately needing some caff to wake him up, he went to leave the room, glancing back at his peacefully sleeping wife.
What he saw made his heart stop.
The words from the dream came back to him in a rush of sorrow and grief and anger and disbelief, and he ran out the door, jumping in his speeder and heading straight for the Jedi Temple.
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The marks were discovered, and a meeting was called. The council gathered, and they invited one other member - Anakin Skywalker. They arrived in the room, pale-faced, with a mix of shock, anger and sorrow marring their varying features. A few minutes later as usual, Skywalker entered, his hair and clothes mussed and out of place, looking spooked and showing more emotion than any of them had seen. He looked up from trying to tear out his hair, and for a moment they saw all the pain and tortured grief, and then his eyes glazed over, his face became impassive, and he apologised for being late. Normalcy was somehow resumed.
"I take it everyone has discovered these, uhh, Death Marks?" Mace Windu asked, showing hesitation for the first time since he was made a master.
They all nodded, but most refused to look up. Mace decided to plow forward.
"And I take it we all heard the same words in a dream? My sources at CNC tell me the whole galaxy did."
Again, only nods. He was getting a little frustrated now. They had to discuss this properly! This information could be vital to winning the war, and it wasn't as though it was true anymore, was it? The moment everyone saw theirs the future changed. So it wasn't going to mess with time or anything. He didn't really get what the fuss was about. Yes, his own mark was surprising, but he had suspected there was something wrong with the Chancellor a while back, so he was just glad to have confirmation. Still, he was getting quite annoyed at the lack of response. And why were Skywalker's eyes always shifting to the exit?
"Look what's wrong?" He started in what he hoped was a somewhat kind tone. "We need to talk about these marks, and I don't see what's wrong with showing us - Obi-wan, why don't you go first." He had been counting on Kenobi to be the most calm and rational, and encourage the others to do the same, but today it seemed, he was wrong.
"No." Kenobi replied quietly and calmly, though his voice had an edge to it that spoke of how firm this point was. Mace wasn't having it though.
"Come on, Kenobi. We need to see what these say, it can't be that bad -"
He had said the wrong thing. Anakin knew that - he took a step back, out of his master's range, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Obi-wan's fingers trembled as he fidgeted with his sleeve, but his voice was eerily steady.
"Can't be that bad?" He started, his voice rising rapidly. "Can't be that bad! You don't seem to get it, Master Windu, but this is why these marks are best kept to ourselves!" He yelled, ripping his sleeve up to show them all his death mark.
Anakin's face drained of all remaining colour.
There, on his master's arm, his brother's arm, was the name -
Anakin Skywalker
The council's responses were mixed, with sadness and sympathy to anger and hostility. Anakin shrunk back against the wall, his breathing fluctuating wildly. Before he could quite process it, another distraction (his favourite type of distraction, but for once an unwelcome one) appeared in the doorway.
"Anakin Skywalker!"
He turned, and if his face could have gone whiter it would have. Standing in the door was his lovely, wonderful, secret and illegal wife, anger and sadness etched onto her beautiful face.
"Umm, Senator Amidala, what are you doing here? Don't you have a senate meeting in 2 clicks?" He asked nervously - he was pretty sure he remembered her schedule right, though he knew she'd see through the deflection instantly.
"Don't you 'Senator Amidala' me!" Her gaze fell on the rest of the room, resting on Obi-wan's tear stained face and the words on his arm. "This is about the marks, isn't it." It wasn't a question. Anakin slid down the wall as he nodded, his head in his hands, not daring to look at her and see the anger and disappointment in her eyes. She just walked over to him, and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He froze.
"W-what are you doing?" He mumbled.
"Relax, Ani. They must know eventually, and somehow I think now is the time." She muttered back. Her gaze fixed his; a blazing look in her dark brown eyes that usually made him shiver, but he still refused to look at her. The council watched on in a sort of morbid fascination. He just nodded again, still refusing to meet her eyes.
"Ani, I'm not mad. I don't care if your name is on my arm, I will never stop loving you." She said quietly, but the words rung out in the silent room.
"And besides," she added, leaning closer so her breath caressed his ear, "You know I would die for you, and if your face was the last thing I saw I would die happy." She breathed.
The Jedi Council watched in a mixture of confusion and horror. Many wanted to scream as Anakin shivered violently at Padmé’s whispered words, but were held back by the revelation that Anakin would not only kill Obi-wan, but Senator Amidala too!
One by one, they pulled up their sleeves. Anakin's name came up a few more times, each eliciting a flinch, causing Padme to hold him tighter. Many had clones, and all noted that it was someone from their own battalions that would kill them. Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, Kit Fisto and Mace Windu were the last. They all pulled up their sleeves to reveal:
Sheev Palpatine
Anakin stumbled at this, his only remaining lifeline snapping as his world crumbled. The force told him to look, and he yanked up his sleeve to see:
Sheev Palpatine
The council watched anxiously as his rage bubbled up, exploding out through the Force. They recoiled as they felt the hatred, not directed at Palpatine or anyone else, but at himself. He was about to storm out of the room, when Padme grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a searing kiss. He responded enthusiastically, lifting her off of her feet, before they separated, gasping for air. Anakin leant his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes for a few moments, before walking slowly out of the door. Padme hesitated for a moment, but then followed him. They all stood stock still, trying to reconcile everything they had just seen. They could all hear Obi-wan's sobs coming from behind his hands. They didn't say anything.