We Have Always Lived with the Sith

by NotaFakeGhost

Summary:

Anakin Skywalker lives with her wife, Padmè, and an ailing Sheev Palpatine. Everyone else she ever loved is dead or gone. They're adverse to change in their dilapidated manor, but change soon comes knocking on the door in the surprising form of Obi-Wan.

It's been 6 years since the Incident with The Council and some unfortunate truths are about to be uncovered.

---

Think of it as a toxic gothic romance with a side of murder mystery (but only if you squint).

Notes:

It really is just a retelling of We've Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson.

Anakin = Merricat
Padmé = Constance
Palpatine= Uncle Julian
Obi Wan = Charles

Everyone else is the townspeople and who I decide on a whim to bring in.

This is my first time attempting to write any kind of Star Wars fic because it seems very intimidating.

Chapter 1: The Past is Prologue

The Past is Prologue

This is a story that happened long ago and far away.

It is a story about a girl named Anakin Skywalker, but if she cared about you, then you could call her Ani. At the time of this story, she was 28 years old, and she lived with her wife, Padmé Amidala.

Nothing can be done to change this story. In fact, Anakin wished she could change her own story. She often thought with any luck, she would’ve never been manipulated by The Council.

This is a story of love and loss, but it’s up to you to determine such boundaries because this is a story of the blurred line between a person’s best and worst.

But enough with the poetry, there are a few other important details to know about this Anakin Skywalker. While she lived with her wife and she wished she could change the past, she was a whole person full of likes and dislikes. For example, she disliked sand and noise. She liked Padmé, and Dragons, and Vaparator Mushrooms despite their tragic tie to her past. Everyone else she ever cared about was dead.

The funny thing about tragedy is that it’s like most stories. Though it all happened long ago, it is happening right now. It is happening as you read these words, the way it happened for Anakin while she lived with her wife, Padmé Amidala, with her likes and dislikes.

The end starts now.

Chapter 2: Strangers in Town

Summary:

Anakin's last unfortunate visit to town.

None of the locals want you here.

Strangers in Town

One of the redos Anakin often dreamt of was selecting better library books.

In the present, said books collect dust, unable to gather any interest, but in her defense, at the time, she felt the need to get out of there, away from all the prying eyes. There was no way she could’ve ever predicted it being her last visit to town.

The library was quite small. Someone squeezed it in front of the police station, treating literacy as a second thought. There were book cases along the walls and some in the center to feature new titles. As soon as Anakin entered, she approached the new book selection knowing she read more than enough books from this place.

Her hand grazed all of one book and the librarian snapped her attention from across the room to her. The librarian stood on a little ladder with a book partially put in place. There was all of one table area where three college students sat. They looked up, one by one, to glare. One student’s grip tightened on their pen causing it to snap. Ink bled everywhere yet none of them paid any mind.

Anakin hugged one book to her chest. Already, the librarian approached the front desk for check out. She cleared her throat upon arrival. Anakin studied her as she took another book without reading the title. The front door opened and an old man waddled in. He rooted his feet to the ground giving him the best line of sight on Anakin.

Even though signs everywhere demanded silence, the old man said, “I know what you are.”

Nobody shushed him.

Their eyes followed Anakin as she went to the counter to check her books out. Their following silence suffocated her while their stares strangled her. It was time to leave, it was time to go home, there she would be safe. There she would be with Padmé.

She left to find more ugly stares outside, but there, she stared back. Whoever met her eyes: Let. Them. Perish. Again and again, Anakin imagined strangling them with the rise of her hand.She’d squeeze the life out of them, crushing their throat.

If only life were so easy.

Life was never easy, especially on Tuesdays and Fridays when Anakin needed to go into town.

Padmé no longer left the gardens and Sheev Palpatine simply could not; so that left Anakin as their savior. She was the one who could accomplish their errands in town. At least, there wasn’t much they needed at Blackwood Manor, up on the hill, other than food and books. It was still such an added misery.

Why couldn’t Padmé have a more feasible garden? Then maybe Anakin could at least go to town once a week or every other week.

Each person who happened to be out on the street slowed to a stop. Their chins slowly craned in Anakin’s direction as if she were the one who never left their property. She hugged the paper bag full of groceries to herself with the books resting on top.

Up ahead, at the crosswalk, stood Parking Officer Sebulba while he waited for someone’s timer to run out to leave a ticket behind. He was always too excited to paste them across people’s windows. Anakin caught the unfortunate case of ‘making eye contact’ with Parking Officer Sebulba.

Great.

Before leaving for town, Anakin forgot to think up her three danger words. The sort that could easily be said while also not being easily said. Whenever one came up, it was a sign that pain approached. Such an act would’ve prevented any meeting from Parking Officer Sebulba whose teeth crunched together in a sick grin.

Parking Officer Sebulba started a playground chant: “‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’”

It appeared children were around. They played on one of the porches lining the main street.

The kids chanted back, “‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’” They continued while Parking Officer Sebulba deeply laughed because he did not understand humor. Anakin glanced at the porch to see them jump rope to the chant. “‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep. Ani asked, ‘Padmé, Padmé? How many kids did you kill today?’” Then they would count to see how long they could avoid a certain game over death.

Since the only cars in sight were parked, Anakin crossed the street toward Dex’s Diner. Stubbornness unravelled inside of her. It felt like a sizzling pan of gooey eggs wobbling deep in her stomach. She marched straight into the diner, sitting at the little counter Dex worked behind. This was somehow one of the only places she could find a break from reality.

Yes, people still stared, but at least, Dex smiled whenever he walked toward her. “Good morning, Anakin.” He wiped some crumbs off the counter. “What’s the occasion? It’s not every day I get to see a Skywalker in the flesh. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” Anakin pretended to read the menu even though she always ordered the same thing. She liked to pretend change was attainable.

“And Padmé, is she well?”

Anakin peered over the menu. “Very well, thank you.”

“And how is he?”

Anakin returned to burying her face in the menu. “How is the butter toast?”

Dex did not respond.

Anakin laid the menu down. “Black coffee, please.”

“You got it, Kid.”

It was pointless to remind Dex that Anakin hadn’t been a kid for some time. However, she did decide that Maple was one of her danger words. It was already a bad day so someone else was bound to break it down even more. Her other two words: Helmet and Figurine. She bound all three words up in her mind and tossed them away because it she wasn’t going to cause any of the future pain.

Wind chimes sang announcing someone’s entrance. Heavy boots hit the floor of Dex’s Diner. Anakin returned to looking at the menu, calculating the sounds she heard. Two individuals entered, they sat right beside her—to the left and to the right. She leaned back, not acknowledging their faces yet, but instead the door.

Outside stood Parking Officer Sebulba, no longer writing out a ticket. He stood there with that bone-breaking grin as he stared at Anakin through the window.

Even with the door closed, those chanting kids managed to shred the moment.

‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’
‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep.
Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’
One, two, three, four. . .

Dex returned, nodding to the newcomers as Anakin returned to sitting upright. She stared forward, still not bothering to glance at either visitor. As long as they said none of the three words, then they would be safe.

Dex brought her the coffee.

“Ordering tea here ‘cause it’s safer than home?” one individual mocked.

The coffee was too hot, but Anakin let it scald her tongue.

Dex butt in, “What’ll it be, Dooku?”

Dooku didn’t pretend to look at the menu. “The usual.”

Except Dex shot him some look as he pulled out a notepad. The whole time, Anakin sipped her hot, hot coffee. “And that is?”

The other guest, Asajj, cackled as she leaned forward, “Eggs Benedict and coffee.”

Anakin wished she could unlearn everyone’s name.

Let her only remember Padmé, Sheev, and her dead loved ones.

“I heard you’re moving,” Asajj said, post-cackle.

Dooku leaned back, forgetting their seats had no backs. He almost hit the floor but caught his balance. He huffed then ordered, “Triple stack, cherry smash and no maple.”

Maple.

Anakin faced Dooku for the first time, who quietly laughed under his breath. Coffee filled Anakin’s mouth, one wrong move and it’d either burn her throat or shoot out of her nose. Dooku rested an elbow on the bar counter, meeting Anakin’s gaze.

“Can’t ever tell how gossip gets around, but I sure hope the rumors are true,” Dooku went on. “Blackwood Manor should go to someone who wasn’t acquitted of murder.”

“Hey, man, leave her alone,” Dex grumbled, bringing the two newcomers some plates.

Anakin spat out the burning coffee on Dooku’s face.

Chapter 3: I Want to Wake Up So Badly

Summary:

Padmé confesses something

I Want to Wake Up So Badly

Padmé sat in her garden under a cherry blossom tree. Petals collected in her dark curls as if it were a snow day rather than spring for new beginnings. She held onto her small book that she always called her ‘Book of Hours.’ It helped her divide the day up without letting her mind linger too long on the ever present tragedy of 6 years ago.

“I worry about Anakin, I do,” she told the tree. “Sometimes I feel as if she leaves me. She'll be here, physically present, yet at the same time, I'm afraid she is somewhere I can never follow.”

The tree did not respond.

Padmé sighed. “I found a dead rabbit this morning in the poison garden. I buried it and replanted a daffodil to mark the grave.”

She glanced up at the manor, spotting Palpatine watching her from his window. It was the only light on in the house. Padmé shook her head then touched the cherry blossom tree.

“I know they're not pets but I read this book about a pet cemetery that brought people back to life. I bury all the animals with daffodils with the hope that maybe one day, one of these days I can reverse what happened on. . .”

Even from outside, Padmé could hear all the clocks striking the new hour. The chorus of bing-bongs rose her to her feet. A new hour, a new task. The past could not be changed, she understood such a fact, but she could dream.

Padmé touched the tree. “Good bye, my loves.”

She walked away casting a second glance at Palpatine’s window. He had the perfect view of all the daffodils behind her. She stood there with petals still clinging to her hair. The two host a brief staring contest that he lost. He backed away letting a black out curtain fall into place.

Chapter 4: This is Anakin Skywalker

Summary:

In which, Anakin thinks about dragons, killing people, the moon, and most important, Padmé.

This is Anakin Skywalker

Before Dooku could react, Asajj shoved Anakin to the floor. The chair toppled on top of her in the process. Anakin laid there, realizing an altercation was about to occur, but at least, she was not to blame. She sat up, considering her next move.

Already, Dex was leaning into the counter, stabbing a finger in her general direction. “No. No! I will not stand for that!"

Dooku reached for the old rag Dex used to clean the counter, but Dex managed to hand off some napkins in time. Dooku used them to clean off his face as he stood.

“What is your problem?” he snapped. “Can a man not ask a genuine question?”

Dex pulled the coffee away Anakin’s coffee back. “Anakin, I really think it's best for you to head out.”

“I have not paid,” Anakin replied.

“It's on the house.”

Anakin shot a violent look at both Dooku and Asajj. She let her violence rest on either one of them for a few seconds before moving forward to pick up her groceries. Neither of them moved to harass her.

Although, Dooku turned to face Asajj. “It is an utter shame to let that manor fall into such shambles.”

“Just leave her alone,” Dex commented. He turned to take some plates passed to him to serve the two. "She's already leaving."

Anakin, in fact, was not already leaving. Instead, she stood there, strangling her grocery bag. If she was not careful, it'd burst open, causing another problem. The plates clinked into place and she imagined throwing them to the ground with her mind. Let their food hit the floor. All she needed to do was think hard enough and push.

“Anakin?” Dex said with a certain violence that encroached on everyone's voices around her. “Seriously, go home. Tell Padmé I said hi.”

Asajj’s butter knife scraped across her plate. Neither she nor Dooku paid any attention to their meals. They went through the usual movements of preparing to eat. “I don't know why she's so upset. It's not our fault everyone in town is saying Anakin and her wife are going to leave us soon. Moving away. Going somewhere else to live.” Her fork struck down with a loud clang. “I was actually all upset thinking we were about to lose one of our finests. . . Padmé that is.”

At some point, Dex moved beside Anakin. “Just go along home now, Anakin.” His face locked in a customer service smile as he touched Anakin's shoulder. “Be sure to stop in next time you're around.”

Dex forced Anakin toward the door, but she could still hear Asajj talk, “I was saying to people this morning it's already a shame what happened to Padmé. She had so much potential and now she'll be gone for. . .” The wind chimes sang as Anakin was ushered out the door. She stood there looking across the street as the door snapped shut behind her, sealing off the rest of those words.

More children were gathered on the one porch with jump ropes woven between them. A woman stood in the doorway, scowling at them. It looked as if she told them off only to force a smile in Anakin's direction as the children giggled. All those around Anakin came to an absolute halt. Grins and grimaces decorated their faces. The only similarity was the way their teeth ground together. She tossed a look over her shoulder to see the same expression on Dex yet Dooku and Asajj mocked her with their smirks.

Anakin wanted their teeth to explode. Let the impact tear apart their maws. All of them. She scanned the surrounding faces, hoping their tongues burned and their teeth exploded. She wanted them to feel the torment of a thousand fires. Let lava creep into their joints and tear apart their flesh. She sucked in a huff before turning on her heel to head home.

Dread wrapped around Anakin’s heart. In her mind’s eye, it took the form of a dragon. Back when she was a child, the other kids whispered: Dragons live inside stars. They also mentioned: We are all made of stardust. It seemed impossible for a star—or a dragon for that matter—to perish so Anakin decided to ask someone wiser than the local gossiping children.

She asked her mother what it meant to be made of stardust. This, of course, occurred back when her mother was still alive. Anakin’s mother was named Shmi and they lived together in a small apartment that overlooked a desert full of prickly pear cacti.

Shmi explained, Well, Ani, I guess that means stars die. I mean, everything dies, after all. So why not stars, too?

Anakin vividly remembered staring at her wide-eyed. It was a hot summer when too many insects ate the prickly pears before they could. Those insects were a consistent buzz at the time. Their presence forever around them while she needed to contemplate the idea that stars could die.

Shmi continued, Maybe stars burn out over time? They might burn too bright and die. And I guess when they explode, there’s stardust, and that’s the stardust that everything here is made of as in you, me, the pears, everything.

If those stars died then those dragons inside died, too. It made sense, one crept inside Anakin’s heart with all that stardust. Though that was the first time she really considered a dragon hoarding all the dread in the world within her chest.

That very day, long ago, Anakin promised to never let her mother die, but she broke that promise.

She made the same promise to Padmé, but now understood she couldn’t say it out loud.

If she did then Padmé would die.

In order to keep Padmé alive, Anakin needed to return home without an altercation. No violence could pass between her and the surrounding people. She marched away from Dex’s Diner toward Blackwood Manor to be with Padmé once more. Instead, Anakin told herself a much better story than the one the children of her past told.

In her story, she lived on the moon with Padmé. There she could whisk Padmé away from all of this. They’d live on the moon together in a collection of cozy comforts. Their house would be blue and life would be better—bright. Not even Sheev Palpatine could come between them. He played an important role during a time and place within Anakin’s life, but on the moon, Anakin would live a life where she didn’t need such a confidant.

It’d be her and Padmé. Padmé and her.

Up there, they wouldn't have to worry about bills to pay or what The Council ruled. Even Artoo could join them on the moon. Anakin moved forward as if she were traveling home among dusty craters. There would also be no other sounds on the moon. As soon as she moved, the people around her did so, too.

The townspeople returned to their usual lives, which meant the children returned to their little jump rope chant:

One, two, three, four, five, six,
‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’

By then, Anakin was out of earshot and on the winding road home. Here she could enjoy the quiet as if she lived alone with Padmé on the moon. Just her and Padmé. Padmé and her. Nobody else to interrupt their lives. She also wouldn't even need to perform her small, sympathetic magics to protect them.

Chapter 5: Sympathetic Magics

Summary:

Anakin and Padmé chat

Sympathetic Magics

Anakin put her shopping bags down to lock the gate behind her. The lock wasn’t much. Whenever her fingers fumbled with it, she considered the fact a child could break it. Yet she reminded herself: An unlocked door is an invitation for trouble. She pushed on the gate door three times to ensure it was locked before picking up her bag to face Blackwood Manor. She approached it from the back rather than the main driveway that connected to the highway. There was no gate there since cars were meant to traverse it. A fact that she disliked.

Another fact Anakin disliked was being watched.

She strangled her bags yet again as she looked up to see Sheev Palpatine watching her from his window. Due to the daylight, every other light was off but his. The light bulb flickered in the background, letting Anakin know she’ll need to change it soon.

Thankfully, the path through the gardens was well-traveled. Anakin didn’t need to watch where she stepped as she stared up at Sheev. He had been family to Anakin, always caring, always free with advice and unstinting aid. Sheev was the one who taught Anakin the little sympathetic magics that protected them although Padmé did not want to part with her jewelry at first. She found it hard to believe that Anakin could nail coins and necklaces to trees to protect them. It was hard to explain because Anakin knew deep down she couldn’t admit her true goal out loud because if she did then it’d never happen.

The jewelry glinted all around Anakin as she passed through the animal cemetery. Daffodils marking their graves. The accidental victims of Padmé’s poison garden. She was careful not to disturb their graves for fear the dead would haunt her. Enough people died to haunt them for a hundred lifetimes.

Anakin continued to stare at the window, wondering if she’d tell Sheev about her earlier thoughts in town. It wasn’t easy to illustrate the way death wove its way through them. But if anybody understood, he would. She could always tell him things that she couldn’t even share with Padmé.

“Ani!” Padmé called out.

Right before Anakin turned to look, Palpatine closed the dark curtain of his window. She turned to find Padmé standing several feet away. Cherry blossom petals caught in her curls as she walked from the gate. How had Anakin missed her?

“Look how far I came today!” Padmé carried a bouquet of dandelions with her. All of which were ready for wishes to be made. “I was waiting for you.”

Anakin put their groceries on the ground as Padmé handed her those dandelions. The wind stole some wishes from her while she gazed at Padmé. The two smiled.

“It’s too far. . .” Anakin accidentally said.

Padmé shook her head, somehow full of laughs. That was no joke, she meant it. “Next thing you know, I’ll be following you into town.”

Except Anakin didn’t want Padmé to follow her into town. Some distance separated her from all the kids, giggling and chanting as they jumped rope.

‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’
‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep.
Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’
One, two. . .

“You should go inside, it’s getting cold out,” Anakin suggested. She glanced at their groceries. It’d be impossible to balance fluffy dandelions with their bags, nor did she want to ask Padmé to do any heavy lifting.

“Aren’t you going to make a wish?”

Anakin was never really sure Padmé knew what the townspeople or children said. After all, it’d been 6 years since she left this property. Whenever Anakin dared to ask about it, Padmé panicked and Sheev told her not to mention it. In private conversations, Sheev defined what agoraphobia meant. It was one of those unspoken words in their home.

That along with how Anakin would never admit Padmé the truth: She’d never let Padmé die.

Anakin blew on the fluffy wishes letting them flutter around the two of them. The funny thing about dandelions was that they weren’t actual magic. Not like the magic that she could wield to protect them. Still, she made her wish. One of protection.

One of the three danger words was already said.

Dooku took Maple leaving behind Helmet and Figurine. As long as both remained unsaid, there would be no more trouble today.

Anakin hoisted the groceries off the ground to follow Padmé inside. She ran her fingers along the cherry blossom tree that stood isolated from all her gardens. It was the only tree that Anakin was not allowed to touch due to its deeper meaning. That meaning ran underneath the tree’s roots. A 6 year old secret that technically also went unsaid with the other words.

“I forgot to mention. . .” Padmé paused by their door, unlocking it. She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s a Sabé day.”

Chapter 6: The Man in the Woods

Summary:

The Night Before

The Man in the Woods

The Night Before

Unbeknownst to the members of Blackwood Manor, Bail Organa ignored the “Private No Trespassing” sign outside Blackwood Manor deciding it did not apply to him. He meant to arrive unannounced earlier in the day, but that was becoming an odd mantra his. Work had a bad habit of consuming his day at times.

He pulled his keys from his car’s transmission, leaving it along the side of the highway before turning on his flashlight. Straight past the sign, two eyes glimmered in the dark, studying him. Bail broached the boundary between the regular people of the highway and Blackwood Manor’s winding driveway.

His light enveloped an orange cat whose tail flicked in panic before abandoning its spot. The little bell around the cat’s collar alerted the night to his presence. Curse that cat, C3PO or something peculiar like that. Leave it to Anakin to name a cat with a particular oddity. Somewhere else, Artoo probably lurked. The gray cat was almost a shade of blue and had better luck tucking itself into the surrounding shadows.

At least, C3PO disappeared into a conglomerate of trees alongside the winding path to the manor. Bail continued. Up top, the house appeared to be fast asleep. It was past midnight, deep into the witching hour. In hindsight, Blackwood Manor was not the place for someone to venture at such a place considering it was one crafted of witchcraft.

For some reason, he always considered approaching the front door. Bail imagined the door knob under his palm knowing it'd be locked. Sometimes he thought about checking the back door, but knew Anakin checked everything in threes. Once Padmé told Bail that Anakin mentioned an unlocked door was an invitation for trouble. Who knew what else stalked the woods around the manor. Bail better than most knew that enough people had died within its walls 6 years ago.

Bail avoided the front door and traveled to the gardens in the back. He stepped over what he always considered little traps set up by Anakin. The trees that lined the property were all marked with jewelry nailed to their trunks. Gold glittered along the bark at the borders of his flashlight.

He knelt down before the cherry blossom tree running his fingers over freshly churned dirt to dig up a blank piece of paper.

When Bail turned to leave, he noticed a shadow in a backlit window. He clicked off his flashlight before backing up hoping the cherry blossom tree offered him some coverage. Bail looked up past the blossoms waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the dark while he watched the window. To be honest, he wasn’t sure who he preferred to spot him.

It appeared, Sheev Palpatine watched him from the window.

It was too dark to attempt a trip back down the hill. Bail pressed his back to the tree, counting the seconds underneath his breath. Once he reached 180, he took a peek to find Palpatine still watching. It was impossible to tell if they made eye contact with one another yet Bail was sure Sheev knew exactly where he stood.

Someone else appeared to pull the curtain shut for the night. Bail counted to 60 before he traveled along the path he arrived. Once he was out of line of the window’s sight, he turned his flashlight back on and headed back to the car.

Once Bail was tucked inside, he changed his flashlight’s setting to a handy UV light. With it he read the actual words scrawled across the paper.

Help me, Obi-Wan.

Chapter 7: Maple, Helmet, Figurine

Maple, Helmet, Figurine

Anakin did not like Sabé days.

Although maybe if she knew this was going to be the last time Sabé would ever come to visit, she would’ve acted differently.

She hid her grimace from Padmé who held the door open for her as she entered with the groceries, putting them on the counter. Padmé walked up right behind Anakin, giving her a quick hug as she rested her chin on Anakin’s shoulder. Though, to do so, she needed to stand on her tippy toes.

“I was thinking of making muffins, how does that sound?” Padmé asked.

At first, Anakin didn’t register the words because she was too busy side-eying the unlocked door. She touched Padmé’s hands and turned around, remaining in such an embrace. Yes, the door lingered unlocked, but she managed her best smile. It was impossible not to smile while looking at Padmé.

See, Padmé was the perfect arrangement of stardust.

While the idea of stardust might provide moments of existential dread deep within Anakin’s heart, Padmé could dispel such emotions.

She was the sun that Anakin would always follow.

But before Anakin could compliment Padmé, Sheev Palpatine spoke up as he rolled his wheelchair into the kitchen. “I love the sound of muffins.”

Padmé let go of Anakin to face Sheev. “I was also thinking of breaking out the last of the peanut brittle for you, too.”

“Oh, how I do love peanut brittle.” Sheev rolled up to the kitchen table since they never used the one in the dining room anymore. Meanwhile, Padmé brought him a glass of water. “That looks nothing like peanut brittle.” She faked a laugh in response.

Anakin took this opportunity to lock their back door. She turned the door knob three times to ensure they were safe inside. An unlocked door meant danger.

“I was also thinking we could picnic outside after Sabé leaves! Though, it might be a longer visit than usual because I do believe she is bringing along Cordé and that one security guard she’s friends with. What’s his name?”

“Tonra,” Palpatine replied as he set down his now empty glass of water.

Padmé returned to the counter, taking out the groceries to put away. “No idea when they’ll be here, though. You know Sabé gets. We should get her a watch.”

Anakin leaned into the back door, studying Padmé because the comment made no sense. Sabé was always on time, which meant Padmé was keeping a detail from them. Either the detail was meant to be a secret from Anakin or Palpatine or both. Padmé paused, shooting Anakin a look as if she understood what thoughts coursed through Anakin’s mind.

Again, Anakin smiled at her. A genuine smile.

“What?” Padmé tried not to chuckle. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I do not know what you’re talking about.”

Glass shattered, bringing their attention back to the kitchen table. Artoo leapt off it, causing chaos in the process. Palpatine hissed at the cat, causing Anakin to roll her eyes.

Anakin was about to leave the room to grab a dust pan except Sheev had to go and say, “Damn, Cat! Broke all those figurines earlier today.”

Figurine.

Chapter 8: Drive Into the Night

Summary:

The Night Before (con't)

Drive Into the Night

The Night Before

Bail shot a glance back up at Blackwood Manor. That was a first. Every note he retrieved over the past 6 years was directed to him.

Lights flickered to life throughout the manor. They crawled past the trees, all of which glittered with Anakin’s small magics nailed to them. Rusted coins decorated the trees closest to the highway and Bail decided to drive away.

It wasn’t until he reached a rest stop that he managed to inhale deeply. Semi trucks surrounded him and he picked his little flashlight back up again. Chances were, she left a message for Bail, as well. He knew how to read between the lines.

I’m worried about Anakin. I’m afraid she is going somewhere I can’t follow.

That was all.

Bail messed with his seat so it could recline enough for him to sleep. It was rather goofy of him to believe Padmé left a hidden message for him. What was she supposed to say? The location of Obi-Wan? Nobody had seen or heard from him in 6 years, and only Bail knew how to track him down. It was an agreement the two made before the Obi-Wan disappeared from public view.

Depending on traffic, Bail had about an eight hour drive ahead of him from the rest stop to the first potential Obi-Wan destination. The man had a habit of going on long work trips and it'd been awhile since Bail checked in to know the man's precise whereabouts.

Best he get some sleep before hitting the road again. Hopefully, no one from home would miss him too much when the sun rose.

Chapter 9: Like Mother Used to Make

Summary:

Sabé visits and a murder mystery is about to be set up.

Like Mother Used to Make

Anakin waited by the window for Sabé to arrive. The scent of muffins wafted throughout Blackwood Manor and she did her best to ignore it. On occasion, she heard Sheev attempt to converse with Padmé only to receive no response. Maybe if Anakin stayed in the kitchen, an actual conversation would’ve occurred, but she needed alone time before Sabé showed up. It wasn’t ever easy to socialize.

A car pulled up the driveway as Sabé arrived right on time. It was whatever time Padmé kept from them. The car doors opened as Sabé climbed out of the driver's seat, Tonra the passenger seat, and Cordé the backseat. It was bad enough Sabé visited once a week claiming friendship with Padmé, and this made the situation worse. It meant Anakin had more people she needed to talk to, which in turn, also meant less time with Padmé.

Sabé knocked on the front door forcing Anakin to answer it because it sounded like Padmé was busy setting the kitchen table. Anakin opened the door with a scowl. Behind Sabé stood Tonra who lifted up a bottle of wine while they all smiled. Anakin didn’t let go of her scowl.

“Good afternoon, Anakin,” Sabé said. “Beautiful day, don’t you think?”

“Is this small talk?” replied Anakin.

“Right. . .” Sabé turned a little to her right. “This is Cordé, you remember Cordé?” Then she pointed to her left. “And that’s Tonra, I know you remember Tonra. . .”

Anakin stepped to the side allowing them to enter. She considered giving Padmé a heads up especially by the way Cordé darted past Anakin, eyes downcast. She bumped into Tonra who shielded her from Anakin. Sabé should’ve come alone but she always mentioned how more people either wanted to visit Padmé or learn ‘what really happened.’

At least, that was how Sabé phrased it.

‘What really happened’ 6 years ago. . .

Anakin followed the three into the kitchen only to find Padmé already ushering everyone into the parlor. Cordé was the only one who trailed behind. She observed the kitchen without noticing Anakin’s presence.

Even Sheev was already in the parlor with their company. From the other room, Sabé called for her yet Cordé entered the kitchen to take a little peek at their sugar supplies.

Anakin cleared her throat startling Cordé.

“I thought you were friends,” Anakin mentioned.

Cordé leaned into the kitchen counter nodding. The problem with Sabé was how much she looked like Padmé and the same applied to Cordé here. Once there’d been a whole gaggle of them when Padmé worked adjacent to The Council, but Anakin was never sure if she understood the joke. If there was a joke to understand.

There were a lot of days Anakin wanted to blame her mother for not letting her socialize enough as a child, but it wasn’t her fault. Then she wanted to blame Obi-Wan, but it also wasn’t his fault either. The way he had to travel for work pulled Anakin all over the place.

“You have to let her go,” Cordé choked out her words before she started for the exit.

Except Anakin blocked her. She looked down her nose at Cordé. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then Anakin stepped to the side letting her pass.

Before joining their company in the parlor, Anakin checked their sugar. Back when the incident first occurred, visitors arrived to hide plastic spiders in the sugar to mock Padmé. Luckily, Cordé didn’t leave one. Probably because there was one more danger word left in the day. It currently protected them from such foolishness.

“Ani! We’re waiting for you!” Padmé called from the parlor.

“Coming!” Anakin meant it but she stalled by the oven and opened it to take a quick glance at the muffins. She breathed in the scent.

It was her mother’s recipe or so Obi-Wan once claimed. That was a different life, a different time, and Anakin wasn’t sure if he could be trusted yet she didn’t want to admit loving the idea of something made after one of her mother’s recipes.

Soon Anakin entered the parlor bringing glasses for everyone for their guests’ wine. Padmé clapped and leapt to her feet. She planted a quick kiss on Anakin’s cheek before helping set up the glasses for all of them.

“Honestly, Sabé, thank you for the wine. I could use a drink right about now,” Padmé continued their chat. “It’s so hard for Ani to carry liquor back from town so we rarely get to appreciate such libations.”

Padmé, an excellent hostess, poured wine for them even though it left them with a moment of awkward silence. It wasn't like Anakin was about to carry the conversation. No. She reached for a glass of wine but Cordé beat her to the anti-social punch. Her fingers trembled the whole time.

Cordé attempted conversation post wine sip, “So kind of you to have us. You have such a lovely staircase.”

“Wait until you see the garden,” Sabé said after holding a glass up to cheers Padmé who returned the gesture.

Tonra said nothing. He let his glass sit, untouched.

Anakin delivered one to Sheev. She made direct eye contact with Cordé, willing discomfort in her direction. The room wasn't hot yet beads of sweat collected on her upper lip.

“Have you met Sheev Palpatine?” Anakin offered them a conversation. He snickered in his corner of the room.

Cordé’s foot rocked so hard that Sabé touched her knee as if to calm her down. When Cordé opened her mouth to speak up, no words came out. Her tongue too dry to form words. Clearly, by the way she guzzled some wine after.

It was Tonra’s time to speak and Anakin let her careful gaze fall upon him unsure how to weaken the man yet. Tonra replied, “We would love to meet him, of course. . .”

“I am in the room with you,” Sheev cackled.

“He's a touch eccentric,” Padmé added.

“We have heard so much about you. . .” Tonra failed to keep their chat going.

Sabé leaned forward, setting her wind down. “Seeing how Sheev and I are well acquainted, I wanted to take the chance to chat with Padmé for a moment in private.”

“Why in private?” Anakin had to ask. Her and Padmé kept no secrets. Shouldn't Sabé know that?

It didn't help that Sheev commanded the full attention of Tonra and Cordé. “You are hoping I tell you what happened that night.”

Sabé touched Padmé’s hands, holding them together.

The wind stem snapped between Anakin's fingers. “I didn't-I didn't mean. . .”

“Ani!” Padmé went to help.

But it was Sabé’s eye roll that caused Anakin to pull back. “I'm barely bleeding. No worries. You go talk in private.”

Yer Padmé stood there, she grabbed a napkin pressing it over little wine stem wounds while she gazed up at Anakin.

“Padmé, you've always been one of my closest friends and I wanted. . .” Sabé said in the background.

Anakin touched Padmé's cheek with her uninjured hand. “Go. Show her the garden. You know she loves her flowers. Talk. I'll stay here with Sheev and the others.” She didn't want to utter any such words but understood they were right even if it meant she had to watch Padmé drift away.

“Don't frighten our guests too much,” Padmé said. It sounded as if a joke underlined her words but they all had practiced such a sentence over the years. By that point, they all had enough practice to make it sound like an intended joke when it was really the sort of joke that protected you from trauma. The laugh that happened in response to death rather than tears.

Sheev rolled forward, putting his empty glass down. “I can show you the dining room.”

“Where it happened?” blurted Cordé.

“It is naturally in this house.” Sheev lead the way out of the parlor. “It remains untouched. Padmé hopes maybe somehow forensics will tell how the arsenic got in the sugar.”

Chapter 10: 6 Years Ago

Summary:

A Brief Recap of the Incident that took place 6 years ago.

6 Years Ago

“Nothing happened like planned. . .” Sheev Palpatine wielded the story of the past above Crodé and Tonra. It felt as if he somehow dug his fingers into the timeline, whipped it up so everyone could revisit such a tragic night.

It was one in particular that Anakin wanted to ignore. She rarely lost all three of her danger words and that day she selected six to protect her, Padmé, Sheev, and the twins. Yet each and every single word was said out loud and horrors followed. Anakin leaned into the doorway of the dining room, letting Cordé and Tonra take it all in. A thick layer of dust covered every corner of the room. The table was a whole different color now, thanks to the amount of dust. Bodies were drawn into the floor. Whenever the chalk faded, Padmé did a retouch.

Sheev continued, “When The Council met that night, it wasn’t supposed to be the last. I told them to not be troubled, but they did not want to listen to me. It was the night of the first Lottery. We weren’t sure how we wanted to run such an event. It is hard to choose a sacrifice for the greater good.”

Cordé and Tonra stood so still in the dining room. It appeared they studied the table. There was a mark on the table where the sugar container sat.

“You’re all too young to know what real pain is like. You have no idea what we prevented by bringing back the old ways. Padmé did not want to agree. . .” Sheev shot Anakin a look and she caught it with a glare of her own. Let him put the blame on them again. “She especially did not want to agree when we selected the final name for the Lottery. . .”

“Luke,” Anakin whispered. She glanced in the direction of the cherry blossom tree, which remained out of sight due to the walls. Somewhere out there stood Padmé, and Anakin simply wanted to be with her again. “You chose a child’s name for the first Lottery.”

Sheev chuckled.

It wasn’t funny.

Yet Sheev continued to chuckle. “Nobody ever complained in the past. Not about the Lottery. It is a sacrifice for the greater good. We have to look out for everyone, but if you’ve never suffered, then you do not know how to best save lives. If we want to be safe, sacrifice. If we want a good harvest, sacrifice. The list goes on and you should’ve never adopted those children anyway. They weren’t for you to take. The Council always thought so, they were always going to say so, and I told you so. . .”

“Just tell the story,” Anakin interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest Sheev mentioned. He always asked if Anakin remembered the tragedy of the Lottery’s inventor. It took one life to save so many other lives. “They know that part of the story. It was public.”

Nobody could forget Padmé that day. The way she screamed and shoved her way through the crowd. She kicked down little piles of rocks collected in front of the stage. On that day, Sheev stood there going through the motions of the past before he announced Luke’s name. Anakin stood stock still, suddenly unsure how to save a life. She held both Luke’s and Leia’s hands as Padmé forced her way onto the stage, never giving Anakin the chance to stop her.

The entire time, she screamed for them to stop and screamed for them to let her volunteer instead. Let her be the selection for the Lottery and not Luke.

Behind Sheev, The Council discussed the situation, claiming they needed to wait longer, which somehow turned into dinner at Blackwood Manor. Already, The Council stole the majority of Padmé’s time, now they wanted either her or Luke to die. Anakin couldn’t let either happen. Padmé asked her to stay in her room for the night while Obi-Wan watched the twins. Padmé mentioned that she might need Anakin’s support, so it was best for someone else to watch them as they played outside like death wasn’t about to bang down their doors.

“I used that sugar,” Sheev shook his head. “I never used sugar, but did that night, believing sugar on my blackberries would taste nice. The berries were freshly picked by Padmé from her garden. She hosted the whole meal herself as she did the one today. Luckily for me, fate intervened. I took so little, I didn’t die like the others. Padmé sat at the table watching them all die. She never eats berries or touches the sugar. . .I told them that at the trial. I spoke against her at the trial. . .”

“Then why are you here?” Cordé spoke up. “You live with Padmé. She poisoned you? The others? And yet, you live here.”

“I consider Anakin family.” Sheev smiled. “She forgave me for Padmé and let me stay here. We all miss The Council, of course. But the new Council carries on our ways, and all those deaths paved the way for the best harvest this town has ever seen. Padmé's own garden blooms thanks to their sacrifices. Not to mention, we lost nobody else for a whole year. Wasn’t until the next Lottery that someone died.”

Sheev knew the true power of sympathetic magics.

“But what about the twins?” Cordé asked.

Anakin preferred Tonra over her because someone at least had the sense to let the past remain in the past. Bury it.

“Obi-Wan said he heard Padmé screaming for help,” Anakin accidentally told part of the story. Sheev nodded for her to go on. “I was in our room, I heard nothing, but he claimed that Padmé kept screaming for help. He ran inside, called an ambulance, and then performed CPR on Sheev. When he came to help Padmé, he left the twins outside. Alone. They picked poisonous mushrooms from the garden, thinking they were vaporator mushrooms and ate them.”

Nobody said anything for several long beats.

Anakin could clearly count out whole seconds before she simply added, “They died,” as if nobody present knew such a fact. It was unfair how everyone had their little singsong about Padmé, daring to add the line: Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’ Obi-Wan should be blamed. He took the twins away from them. Him and the whole Council wanted to take the twins away from them. Turned everyone against them as parents even after Padmé volunteered to take Luke’s place.

“To lose a child. . .” Cordé was about to throw unwanted condolences out at Anakin.

Thankfully, Sheev understood enough to help. “They were never really Anakin’s nor Padmé’s children. Unable to legally adopt.” Apparently, that was also funny, according to Sheev who chucked again while he shook his head. “Padmé always said there was a spider in the sugar, which made no sense; a spider isn’t that deadly. A few grown men died.”

Tonra cleared his throat. “We should get going soon. It’s getting late and we’ve taken too much of your time.” Cordé nodded in agreement. “We wanted to make sure we visited again, just in case. They’ll be drawing a name for the Lottery this month.”

“Excellent.” Sheev clapped his hands together. “Tradition always brings people together in the oddest ways. I wish you all the best of luck, of course.”

“Of course,” Tonra nodded before heading toward the front door.

Cordé lingered for a second longer. She scowled at Anakin before following Tonra. What was that all about?

“Oh, how I miss visiting town for such events. Maybe we should go this year,” Sheev headed into the parlor.

“But Padmé would never go.” Anakin followed him into the room. Too much nervous energy had her bouncing from one foot to the other. It appeared Padmé continued her private conversation outside with Sabé. “I can’t leave her behind.”

“You do realize that if she is ever selected, they will come for her.”

The dragon wrapped around Anakin’s heart tightened. She stared out the window at Padmé. The setting sun flooded the sky with pink and oranges. Maybe Anakin should prepare some food for the picnic she dreamt up earlier.

“I’ll get dinner ready,” she grumbled, but Sheev rolled up beside her, grabbing her elbow. “What?”

“Just, I have a bad feeling about this,” he replied, “What do you plan to do if they come for Padmé again?”

Notes:

Did I just overcomplicate this by adding more Shirley Jackson? Yes.

Chapter 11: The Lottery & Other Stories

Summary:

Sabé and Padmé talk and then there is a little picnic with Padmé and Anakin.

The Lottery & Other Stories

need you to leave this place—please. Too many people have already died here.” Sabé held Padmé’s hands. “I have and always will be your friend. I just wish you were a better friend to me.”

Padmé sighed. She pulled her hands free. “I don’t know why you’re acting like I’ll be safer somewhere else. Do you know what it’s like to be acquitted of murder? A murder people think I did, but didn’t? People stare. They say things. I can’t-I just can’t. . .I can’t think about it. . .” Someone killed people Padmé loved, and the world blamed her out of all people.

“Babysteps?”

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m trying. Really. You should’ve seen how far I went today. I made it all the way to the gate.”

“I want you to be happy. . .” Sabé reached for Padmé’s shoulder, but she ducked out of reach.

“Sabé, I am happy! You’re just not listening to me.”

Padmé brushed cherry blossom petals from her hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Anakin in the kitchen and couldn’t help but smile. Her wife was preparing dinner for them. How sweet. Although it was still funny to think of Anakin as her wife at times. The two secretly married with their cats as the only witnesses. It was by no means a legal wedding, but at the time, they wanted to fool people into thinking they weren’t together. Padmé always felt a little disappointed that she was able to trick everyone but Obi-Wan. That would’ve been a great feat.

Without looking at Sabé, Padmé told her, “I think you should go now. I’m getting pretty hungry, and I’m sure Sheev is starving.”

“He’s no ally of yours.”

“I know.” Padmé glanced at Sabé. “But what would you have me do?”

“I don’t know? Leave? Like I just said?” Sabé huffed.

The door opened as Anakin exited with a picnic basket. “The others are waiting for you by the car.” She came to stand by both Sabé and Padmé. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing, apparently.” Sabé shook her head and waved bye to them before disappearing around the side of Blackwood Manor to leave.

When Padmé and Anakin made eye contact, they burst out laughing together. Padmé shook her head. “I don’t know what her problem is. Ignore her, please.”

“I’ll try to plan accordingly.” Anakin pulled a blanket out first. She spread it out for them to sit in the midst of Padmé’s gardens. “So I don’t know if I should tell you this, but I learned something upsetting today from your friends.”

“Oh?” Padmé headed inside after noting they needed utensils and more. Anakin was never the best at packing a picnic. “What’s that?”

“Just something about the Lottery happening again this month. . .”

Padmé froze in the doorway. She clutched the sides, nodding a few times. Anakin could hear each deep breath she managed to beat back her own dread. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about, right?”

I won’t let you die, Anakin willed, knowing she couldn’t say such words out loud. If she did then Padmé would die. The nail in her coffin.

Sheev appeared in the kitchen and Padmé moved to let him join Anakin. She should’ve provided a hand because the way was all bumpy, not meant for wheelchairs. Sheev came close to toppling over, but Anakin miraculously caught him. Seeing that Sheev thought everything was funny, he laughed. It was a deep throaty laugh unlike earlier. Anakin took a step to the side, letting Sheev continue toward the picnic.

“We really need to consider investing in either a ramp or a helmet for me.” Sheev knocked on the side of his head. “Need to protect this thing here."

Helmet.

The dragon full of dread pulled too tight around Anakin's heart. She held a hand over her chest, left unseen by Padmé who visited the kitchen and Sheev dug through the picnic basket, still laughing at his own joke.

Something very bad was about to happen and there was nothing Anakin could do to stop it.

Chapter 12: This is Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

A Brief Interlude

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi

A Brief Interlude

In a different life, Obi-Wan and Anakin were inseparable. She somehow unlocked something within in. After so much tragedy, he learned how to laugh and smile again thanks to Anakin. Somehow, she taught him a lesson he didn’t know he needed to learn: How to relax.

After years of damage thanks to him clenching his jaw, Obi-Wan loosened up a little. He always thought he had to be the one to guide Anakin. The one to negotiate through all those heightened emotions, and Anakin ended up being the one to teach him. Soon Obi-Wan not only laughed at jokes, but told them. People—including Anakin—turned to the wisdom his gentle humor could provide.

Obi-Wan, unfortunately, since reverted back to his old self.

No.

That old self faded into oblivion thanks to his time with Anakin. He became something else after the Incident that occurred 6 years ago at Blackwood Manor. He became something altogether different, something that he did not want to define nor did he want to ask anyone to define. There was Cody, who was the only person who might help bring him back to that less overly serious self.

But even after 6 years, Obi-Wan had no idea how to cope with such loss. He wanted to believe he was excellent at leaving the past in the past, but he had already spent a lifetime believing he was never good enough. Now he knew for a fact where he wasn’t ever going to be good enough at letting go.

Chapter 13: Of Course

Summary:

Bail asks Obi-Wan for help

Of Course

It was a rather dreadful day and Obi-Wan realized it was about to get worse. He and Cody pushed into their little office to find Bail waiting for their arrival. Not great. It’d already been too long of a day dealing with yet another apperance of Maul who apparently was going by James or Jamie Harris, as of late.

“I would like to recommend rescheduling whatever conversation is about to take place here,” Obi-Wan stated right off the top. Bail said nothing as he watched the two entered. Only Cody took a side trip to a little shelf to pour some liquor for them. “We had a rough day.”

A man named David hired them to help get to the bottom of some mystery. Apparently, he invited a woman he wanted to ‘court’ over to his apartment, only for her to show up with this Jamie Harris. The two refused to leave the man’s apartment, forcing him to move. Two months ago, Jamie Harris promised to marry a woman, leading her to stalk the location he allegedly lived, forcing the home’s attendants to come to him and Cody for help.

Cody carried a glass over to Bail and offered Obi-Wan one, but he refused.

“I’m afraid your day is about to get worse,” Bail said then he sipped his drink.

He reached into his pocket and brought a blank piece of paper to Obi-Wan before he could take a seat behind his desk. The place was cluttered with notes and photographs of a variety of their open and closed cases. There was no chance of a personal life image sneaking its way into the office because some semblance of secrecy was nice. People didn’t like to know about their private detectives anyway. To them, he was the figment of their imagination, while they wished their problems were instead the figment of their imagination.

“Incredible.” Obi-Wan almost tossed the paper into a waste bin, but Cody caught it. “You came all this way to bring me a piece of paper? We have plenty.”

Bail sat back down, crossing his legs. “Come on, I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Is he?” Cody joked only for Obi-Wan to shoot him a look. “Sorry.”

Obi-Wan took the paper back from Cody before dropping back into the seat at his desk. He popped open a drawer for a little black light, seeing it simply said: Help me, Obi-Wan. He gulped, covering his face with one long, long huff. Cody moved behind Obi-Wan to get a look in at the letter.

“Are you. . .” Cody asked.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan put the light and letter down before leaning back in his seat. He crossed his one foot over his leg as he studied Bail. “We leave tomorrow.”

“When you say we, do you mean. . .all of us or only you and Bail?” Cody asked.

“I’m afraid it’ll have to be only me and Bail this time.” Obi-Wan gazed up at Cody from his seat. “I hope you are alright with that.”

“Do I have a choice?” replied Cody.

Obi-Wan’s focus did not waver. “Why must you always ask?”

Chapter 14: Sleepwalking

Summary:

More questions, less answers, a weird moment.

Sleepwalking

Anakin had the power to make change except she was running out of ideas on how to do so.

Yes, she could will more danger words into the world, believing they could erect a boundary around her and the outside world. But three danger words being shattered in one day was a terrible sign. She understood that something was coming and that something was going to abolish their status quo and there was nothing she could do about it. It was more than a bad feeling. . .

The hour was late, and it was as if dreams beckoned her outside. She couldn’t find it in her to sleep as she rose out of bed. Padmé continued to sleep, as she always did. Over the years, she’d grown used to Anakin’s inability to sleep.

Death snaked its way through all of Anakin’s dreams. It was tiring to refer to them as nightmares by that point in time. Anakin even started to forgo the word “bad” before dream. They were simply dreams where she watched Padmé die again and again.

And not just Padmé, but also the. . .

Downstairs, Anakin found Sheev Palpatine ghoulishly sitting alone in the parlor. Talk about an oddity, she helped the old man to bed about three hours ago, and yet he sat alone on a seat in the moonlight. His wheelchair was absent. She never even heard anyone move along the steps prior to waking.

“Sheev, what are you doing down here?” Anakin forced some semblance of kindness and care into her tone.

She used to know how to best soften her voice and how to practice kindness. At some point, it was as if someone took a scalpel, shaving away at it.

Although, she’d argue, the ‘someone’ was her pretending she could blame the world on her cruelness, but deep down, she always understood she was at fault. It didn't matter how tight the dragon tightened itself around her heart, letting dread pump all through her in reaction to the surrounding world. She cut her own kindness out by choice.

“You know you can still trust me,” Sheev said as Anakin continued to approach him. “I know something is bothering you. You used to tell me everything, but now. . .”

Anakin interrupted. “Something bad is coming, and I don’t think I can protect us.” Again, she was spinning threats right into their lives. The admission of everything made it real. She was making the threat real. She was at fault for making it real.

“Take this.” Sheev held out a hand and Anakin caught old arcade tokens. “Bury with the. . ." He paused with a false catch in his throat. "It’ll protect all of us. One small action for a greater action.”

Anakin’s fingers collapsed around the tokens. “I will.” She carried on without asking Sheev if he needed help getting back upstairs. Instead, she went straight outside, stepping over their cats who wove their way around her feet for second dinner. She closed the door behind her as she approached the cherry blossom tree.

Carefully, Anakin touched the tree with one hand, treating it as if it were a fragile creature. Earlier, when Padmé mentioned a picnic, Anakin wanted to fall back in time to a better place. One where dreams of death stalked her every other night, or maybe once a month. She wanted to sink back into such a past where the pain was less.

She knelt before the cherry blossom tree, emotionally unprepared for the next steps. If only she could escape. It’d be nice to return to a place far away from her, a time before they planted this tree together, a time before Padmé delved into the art of gardening, and they could travel the world together.

Once, when Anakin visited Padmé’s family, they had a picnic in a meadow. It was the first time Anakin reconsidered stars. After all, she grew up thinking of how dragons twisted around their hearts as well as hers. Yet in such a moment, she understood sunflowers and the way they moved throughout the dead.

Sitting, listening to Padmé laugh in the meadow, among all those little flowers, Anakin understood for the first time that Padmé was a star reborn.

Everything else on this planet might be crafted of star dust, but they were the remnants of the stars unlike Padmé who was a star reborn. She was a sun and Anakin would follow her everywhere. Her world revolved around Padmé. She’d move like the sunflowers, constantly trying to catch any glimmer of Padmé.

Anakin knelt before the cherry blossom tree with one hand on it while she kept her fingers wrapped tightly around the tokens.

The problem with memories was that even though they were from long ago, they felt as if they were happening in the present.

Anakin sat before the cherry blossom tree splintered between a happy past and an unfortunate present. She looked over her shoulder at Blackwood Manor to see two separate lights on.

It was as if the eyes of the house were watching her. In one window, stood Padmé and in the other window, sat Sheev, who apparently was either upstairs all along or somehow made his return on his own. Anakin turned her attention back to the tree, knowing she’d have to wait to bury the tokens. Padmé couldn’t ever know about the little magics. It’d lessen their power.

Anakin pressed her forehead against the tree, ready to wait. She whispered, “I’m sorry. . .”

###

Padmé turned away from the window to gaze at the empty walls that surrounded her and Anakin. When she was growing up, she never dreamt of waking up in a place that lacked such art.

The walls once held memories, except Anakin took them all down after those events 6 years ago. Not that Padmé ever watched her. At the time, she awaited trial for the arsenic in the sugarbowl and the Vaparator Mushrooms from the garden.

With Anakin outside, Padmé took her chance to perform a ritual of her own. She sank to her knees before her bed as if in meditation. Her fingers peeled back one of the floorboards where she kept her little box of memories.

Inside it held a little necklace Anakin gave to her when they first met. She stopped wearing it 6 years ago. There were a few photographs she always kept to herself. Some included Sabé and Cordé and the others. She even had ones of her parents proud of all her success. She always meant to write them more.

Underneath it all was a single, faded photograph from the time they took the twins to a pumpkin farm one autumn.

Padmé asked if Obi-Wan could take one of them together and he, of course, politely thanked her for giving him such a task. It ended up being the one and only photo they took together with the twins. Padmé knelt beside Leia, hugging her, both with huge grins. That whole time Leia kept picking weeds rather than pumpkins and showed them off while Anakin hoisted Luke up onto her shoulders and he pretended to fly.

Downstairs the door closed as the knob turned three times, ringing throughout the manor. Padmé quickly rehid her memories. She sat on the bed, knowing Anakin already spotted her awake again. C3PO hopped onto the bed beside her, purring and rubbing against her side. Padmé ran a hand along the cat while waiting for Anakin to return. C3PO sat, slowly blinking at Padmé and she did the same back.

There was still no Anakin.

###

“I thought you said those things give you cancer,” Cody stepped out onto the rooftop where Obi-Wan stood smoking another cigarette.

Obi-Wan glanced at Cody right before he snuffed out the cigarette. “I believe I am allowed to have my own vices.”

“Never said you couldn’t.” Cody moved closer to Obi-Wan. “There are just better options.”

“Hilarious. You know, this is why I keep you around.”

Cody did a little bow. “Thank you, I have been working on a standup routine.”

“I hope to come back and see it.” Obi-Wan buried his hands in his pockets. “As in, I hope you continue working on it not as in I’ll die while away.”

“Hmmm. . .so I understood that and wasn’t worried, but am now worried.”

There was no space between Cody and Obi-Wan now while they stood above the city. Obi-Wan pursed his lips and looked down at his feet. “I believe we should all be worried.”

Cody replied, “I liked it better when you weren’t such a pessimist.”

###

Anakin dug.

She dug out a whole among the tree’s roots, slicing up cherry blossom petals.

Over and over again, she whispered the same apology until her shovel hit wood. Anakin came close to vomiting on her own anxiety. She rocked back on her heels.

Little treasures were buried everywhere around them.

This was different. But she hoped by such a sacrifice, she’d win the power to protect whatever was coming their way.

Before dropping the tokens into the grave, Anakin wiped some more dirt away. She should arrange them in a powerful way between both caskets. Only as she pushed more dirt away, all she found was a small wooden box. Without the shovel, her hands frantically scooped and scooped as she continued to dig out around the tree’s roots, realizing there were no caskets here.

But Anakin saw them, she saw them with her own eyes, she was sure she saw them. Instead, she popped open the little wooden box. Flowers were engraved into the top with a glinting clasp that released, letting her peer inside to find a collection of old images of the twins. The bottom of the box was covered with a dark green velvet. Among the photos were broken keychains, friendship bracelets, and tokens from whenever they visited the arcade together. Anakin added the new tokens to the box before reburying it.

She cast a look back at the eyes of Blackwood Manor to find the house no longer watched her. It looked asleep, but the house never slept. Whatever bad was about to erupt around them had apparently been buried deep before her for six years.

Anakin drifted back inside to find Sheev still sitting in the parlor. Without the moonbeams falling over him, he looked a tad bit less ghoulish. She attempted to drift past Sheev, pretending she was walking in a deep slumber. Except Sheev cleared his throat and Anakin paused out of sight on the steps listening to him. "So what did you find?"

Chapter 15: Beginning of the End Movement

Summary:

Obi-Wan arrives at the manor

Beginning of the End Movement

Nobody ever rang the doorbell of Blackwood Manor.

Correction: It'd been over 6 years since someone last rang the doorbell of Blackwood Manor.

Not even Sabé used the doorbell upon arrival.

Anakin drifted down the steps, observing the door. She hoped she remained invisible to their intruder. Whoever stood outside was not from around these parts and was bound to leave soon.

Only the doorbell sang all over again. It's sound gutted the manor. Up above, Padmé leaned over a bannister looking down. “What's going on, Ani?”

“We have guests.” Anakin grip tightened on the railing. She did not like having guests.

“Please tell them to go away.”

Anakin scowled up at Padmé before she made her way to the door. Fine. It was too early to be awake and they deserved their rest. There were moments when the sun slowly rose where Anakin found piece under the covers with Padmé.

With one big, long inhale, Anakin swung the door open about to yell at some stranger to get off their porch.

Instead, all her words evaporated.

“Hello there.”

Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood before Anakin for the first time in 6 years.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood before all of Blackwood Manor with what appeared to be a partial smile. Obi-Wan Kenobi thought he was so funny with his little greeting.

Obi came back to her them.

“Who is it?” Padmé called down.

Anakin slammed the door shut. “Nobody.”

Padmé arrived on the steps, pulling a light robe over her nightgown. “Don't lie. Who is it really?”

“Makeup salesperson.”

The doorbell sang doom to them.

Padmé rolled her eyes. She brushed past Anakin opening the door only to lose hold of the door knob at the sight of Obi-Wan. She flung herself into his arms, embracing him tightly and Anakin was sure she heaved a hidden sob.

There was nothing Anakin could do about warding Obi-Wan away. As if the moment wasn't over stimulating enough, the floorboards above creaked as Sheev wheeled himself to the edge of the stairs calling for their attention.

Padmé took a step back, she held her hands to Obi-Wan's face. “We have much to discuss.”

“I imagine so,” he replied.

“You may enter, but you're not welcome here,” Anakin told him as she stepped to the side. Both Padmé and Obi-Wan entered the kitchen. She kicked the door closed, glaring after then.

Sheev startled her. She thought he was still upstairs but he said beside her. “I thought you buried what I told you to bury last night.”

Wait. . .

Anakin forgot to tell Sheev that they've been decided. The Twins were not buried there. Only their likeness in old photographs. She caught his focus, saying nothing. She’d wait for Obi-Wan to leave before letting Sheev in on the truth.

Chapter 16: Prelude to the End Movement

Summary:

Earlier when Obi-Wan arrived in town

Prelude to the End Movement

Earlier

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Obi-Wan often kept it to himself that he needed to repeat words to calm himself down. His stomach would tighten and his chest would start to ache. His brain warned him that he was a bad person. He was always going to be a bad person. There was nothing he could to prevent himself from being a bad person no matter how many times he tried to talk people out of bad situations or help keep any sort of peace.

The thought was always there reminding him that he could never be good.

And now he stood in the place of his greatest failure. There heartbreak lingered on every corner and he wasn't sure how to dig through the tumultuous emotions that obliterated any clear train of thought. He studied a monument dedicated to The Council members who died that night 6 years ago.

Nobody was meant to die. They were trying to prevent a death yet someone snuck poison into the food.

Obi-Wan’s heart seized at the idea. Another truth he did not like to admit. He cast a look up at Blackwood Manor leering down at him and everyone in town. Lights were on in two windows making the house look wide awake.

He needed to kill his bad thoughts and closed his eyes trying to say the words. The words to a code to live by that meant he was instead a good person. A balanced person. A bringer of peace.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

Bail touched Obi-Wan's shoulder, returning him to the moment. He turned to look at his old friend. How could he be a bad person? Bad people didn't have friends. And yet. . .

“Having second thoughts?” Bail queried.

Obi-Wan cast a look around him. He wore a baseball cap and pulled the brim closer to his face to hide in shadows. Nobody stopped to get a better look at either him nor Bail.

The world went on without a care about his return.

“How did you guess?” Obi-Wan pretended to smile.

“You are always too hard on yourself.” Bail patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. “But please remember, there is no one I trust more than you.”

“What if I make another mistake?” He could let emotions cloud his actions again.

Would be arrested if he came forward with information he kept from the police about the true murderer that night from 6 years ago?

Bail hovered close to him for comfort. “We’ve all made mistakes. We all did. It's the past. Move on. Be done with it. There are always going to be people you can't save, but I believe you can help Padmé this time. She asked for you.”

But she shouldn't have. Obi-Wan might wear the face of a man they once all knew but he was a complete different person.

Those 6 years might as well have been a full decade. A century. Only Cody understood his full evolution, but he needed to respect the fact that Bail had collected his own pieces over that time.

“I will try. . .” Obi-Wan gulped. He returned his attention to the looking Blackwood Manor then the memorial for those lives lost. Beside it sat a shrine memorializing last Lottery winners. An empty space waited by the current year.

Both him and Bail lost a lot of friends that day yet Obi-Wan never even told Bail the truth.

He might take it to his grave.

For someone who talked a lot. Obi-Wan never talked about who truly was the murderer among them that night.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

A sharp intake of breath loaded Obi-Wan's lungs in a crushing time of anxiety and he said, “I believe it's best I go alone.” He touched the back of Bail’s hand. “Anakin was never too fond of you. She never liked how you took Padmé’s time from her.”

Bail chuckled. “There is not a lot tha Anakin truly likes."

Why couldn't Obi-Wan help Anakin be better? Instead, he let her murder and kept it a secret. He wasn't even sure if Padmé knew the whole truth. There were no good-byes shared between the two.

Obi-Wan carried on without anyone paying him any attention. He smiled at some kids playing on the porch. They waved first as they jumped roped to some chant: Applesauce, mustard, cider. How many legs has a spider? One. Two.

If Cody were present, he'd make fun of Obi-Wan for being paranoid enough to think random people in town would be mad at him. Obi-Wan was not the sun, the world didn't revolve around him.

Despite Blackwood Manor’s watchful eye on town. It was about to be a bit of a hike for him on foot.

Three. Four.

Obi-Wan looked back to see Bail getting back in his card to head home to his family. Maybe he could continue walking out of town and return to Cody, but that would solidify the fact. . .

Five. Six.

. . .that he was a bad person.

He was a bad person who failed Anakin.

He was a bad person who let Anakin poison and get away with murder.

He was a bad person who broke Anakin's heart.

He was a bad person for never getting more involved in separating Sheev Palpatine from Anakin.

He was a bad person. . .

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death. . .

Empty thoughts. Obi-Wan opened his eyes again and trudged forward to the manor. It was about time he faced the past.

Chapter 17: Fly You to the Moon

Summary:

Anakin is trying to hold it all together

Fly You to the Moon

Obi-Wan needed to leave within the hour or so Anakin decided. She entered the kitchen to see him sitting at the table while Padmé prepared eggs. She was too busy to notice how the two locked eyes with one another. All Anakin could do was will the past away.

She needed the past to stay far away from her.

There were no words she could determine to protect her. She searched for them as she did her best to pry herself away from Obi-Wan thoughts as they stared at one another--unrelenting. Every single time a word began to form in her mind, it fizzled away, leaving her with a simple blank spot. _______.

The little magics couldn’t protect her from the past. It was always creeping into her present and it would continue to seep into the future.

Anakin broke her stare with Obi-Wan, directing her eyes to Padmé, who turned, smiling. “Oh, come on, Ani, please stop your pouting." She flipped the eggs, causing the yolk to spill.

Whatever happened in their dreadful present, Anakin could not and would not lose her. She gulped away her racing emotions. “The sun is going to shine after last night’s rain. . .”

“I did not realize it rained last night,” Obi-Wan interrupted because he had a habit of interrupting.

Anakin’s shoulder bumped into the kitchen’s threshold, now unable to break her gaze with Padmé. “Today my winged horse is coming and I am carrying you off to the moon and on the moon we will eat rose petals.”

Padmé’s hand slowly lifted off the pan’s handle, ignoring the way the eggs sizzled. Her lips formed words that she didn’t get to say because once again, Obi-Wan interrupted them. He was not going to let them live.

“You do know, some rose petals are poisonous. . .”

The last person who should ever mention poison in this house was Obi-Wan. Anakin dug her fingernails into her palm, feeling her skin budge, letting her nails sink in. Blood bubbled up on her fingertips and she could hear those village kids jumping and chanting:

‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’

Anakin turned so fast to face Obi-Wan, her soles squealed on the floor. Her fingernails did not give as they continued to drink of her blood. “How long do you plan to stay?” She ensured anger laced every single word she said after all the years she was told not to feel. “I hope not long.”

“I have yet to determine when I plan to leave,” Obi-Wan replied.

At least, Padmé briefly captured Anakin’s attention. “What would you like to eat today?”

Instead, Anakin continued their usual little conversation. There were words. Words that needed to be said. It was a spell. A spell to protect them both and she decided to start from the top. “Today my winged horse is coming and I am carrying you off to the moon and on the moon we will eat rose petals.”

Except Padmé sighed, which was not her proper response.

So Anakin continued, “Not on the moon. Is it true that you can plant a leaf?”

Padmé moved the pan and turned off the stove. “Some leaves. Furred leaves. You can put them in water and they grow roots and then you plant them and they grow into a plant. The kind of a plant they were when they started, of course, not just any plant.”

Artoo rubbed between Anakin’s legs, and she reached down to pet the cat. “You are a furred leaf, I think.”

“Silly, Ani, what would you like to eat today?”

'Pancakes. Little tiny hot ones. And two fried eggs.”

Somehow, they were blessed with a brief silence from Obi-Wan, who made sure he was not forgotten by clearing his throat. “I’ll leave you two to yourselves.” He rose from his seat. “I believe I can find my way to my old room.”

Anakin slowly glared at him as he exited the kitchen to find his old home. She did not want to believe Obi-Wan was here. She wanted to believe that Obi-Wan was a ghost because ghosts could easily be chased away. He deserved to be the one dead and not the their. . .

Before Obi-Wan fully cleared the room, Anakin called after him, “Today we neaten the house.”

While Padmé was occupied with cleaning rooms, she could easily persuade Obi-Wan to do the same, which would then provide her a chance to speak with Sheev alone. Once Padmé was finished cooking his breakfast, she’d bring him outside so they could study the cherry blossom tree together with the missing twins underneath.

“What do you think Obi-Wan actually wants to say?” Anakin accidentally said out loud. It was the question she wanted to share with Sheev rather than Padmé.

The question launched the eggs onto the ground with the pan.

Padmé gawked at Anakin.

More and more, a dark feeling unfurled inside Anakin’s stomach, causing fumes to lift up into her chest and the dragon curled around her heart hoarded those toxic fumes, letting them bury deep into her heart. She had a feeling that she and Padmé were at a fork in a road and she was headed in a direction Padmé could not follow.

Maybe if this were a different universe, Anakin would genuinely have a winged horse who could fly her and Padmé to the moon. There, they could plant their furry leaves with the twins and picnic under the stars.

But this is not a story about better universes.

Chapter 18: The Pitch

The Pitch

“How are you not terrified of the change Obi-Wan will bring with his return?”

Anakin was naive to believe she could be alone. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she was careful to turn to face Sheev. One small slip-up here could kill her. It was impressive the old man figured out his way onto the roof. Anakin needed to be alone, yet knew people could easily find her everywhere else on this property.

Downstairs, Padmé was busy with neatening the house, and Anakin should be beside her. They should all be neatening the house together without Obi-Wan stuck inside their walls. Already, Obi-Wan was coming in between them. The past was already repeating itself. He was going to steal Padmé.

“I know you better than either one of them, Anakin,” Sheev continued. “I’d love to hear your thoughts because I know you are already considering a plan to drive away Obi-Wan.”

“No.” Anakin shook her head. “No, I’d never do that.” She was, in fact, thinking about how to drive Obi-Wan away. It was important to select the precise little magic to drive him away because the wrong magic would bring more disaster upon their house and they already shared more than a lifetime of disaster.

“Why are you lying to me?” Sheev shook his head, moving closer to Anakin.

Below, Obi-Wan left the house to stand before the cherry blossom tree. The dragon tightened around Anakin’s heart at the sight of the man. Obi-Wan no longer belonged here. Not after what he did. Vaparator mushrooms were always an option again, and would make Sheev proud. There were other poisons growing in Padmé’s garden that she could wield against Obi-Wan. Some of the plants offered a slow death that would take a few days to be fatal. Obi-Wan would continue to wake up not knowing how close death crouched beside him.

Obi-Wan rested his palm on the cherry blossom tree.

The dragon squeezed around Anakin’s heart harder. Her chest aches with nausea slithering inside her stomach. Her nails nicked her palms as she watched Obi-Wan. She unclapsed her hands needing to release some pent-up energy by rubbing her hands along her thighs.

It’s unfair that they are no longer to speak to one another. The ‘they' being her and Obi-Wan. At one point in time, the two were inseparable and now there was not a single place in this world that could keep them together. A long time ago, Obi-Wan referred to himself as her brother and called her sister yet deep down Anakin thought of him as a fatherly figure. The kind people yearned for within an epidemic of bad fathers.

Anakin loved Obi-Wan once.

Padmé still loved him, meaning she would mourn his death and she’s already been mourning for too many years. The sadness has kept her shackled inside this house, and while Anakin loved the fact they spent every waking hour together. The world used to steal time away from them.

Anakin needed to consider other options to drive Obi-Wan away such as Padmé’s mother’s jewelry. Sparkling things were quite powerful yet Padmé would be upset to learn Anakin went into her private items. Besides, the jewelry would dull over time thanks to the weather. Books were strongly protective. While they didn’t have many, she could sacrifice the new library books by nailing them to trees, except Obi-Wan already made it past all of her defenses.

If Anakin could not find a solution in three days, she would need to smash a mirror.

“Maybe I was wrong about you.” Sheev touched Anakin’s shoulder, causing her to cringe. She came close to curling up into herself. He needed to keep his hands to himself and far, far away from Anakin. “I have an idea for you to consider. . .”

Anakin can’t look into Sheev’s eyes while he lingered too close. Instead, she glanced back at Obi-Wan who stood there with his back to the tree, looking up at them. For some reason, Anakin flinches away from Sheev almost losing her footing on the rooftop.

While Obi-Wan watched her, he lit a cigarette somehow unfurling the dragon strangling her heart. The need to mock him spawned a handful of jokes. Obi-Wan? Smoking? He was so uptight about cigarettes, mocking everyone who crossed their paths with a cigarette between their lips.

There was an alternate scenario where Anakin could descend the stairs, release the jokes, unleash some small magics that tie Obi-Wan back to the manor.

“Have you considered the potential of Obi-Wan’s name being pulled during the Lottery?” Sheev was not about to leave Anakin alone. She didn’t want his wisdom at the moment. “Your name and Padmé’s name have a higher chance of being pulled each year you’re not selected. Obi-Wan’s chances have since decreased to none unless. . .”

Anakin and Obi-Wan continue to watch each other yet she responds, “Unless what?”

“Unless we do something about it.”

The dragon around Anakin’s heart pierces her and she snapped her full attention back to Sheev. A sharp lingered on her lips, unspoken. It was a dagger between them. Such an accomplishment would require more than the little magics Anakin committed. She clasped her hands behind her back again. Even though Obi-Wan was far enough away to not hear their shared words, she whispered, "I'm listening."

Chapter 19: Padmé

Padmé

Padmé found it impossible in her heart to breathe. Her vision blurred ever so slightly as she clipped the side of the dining room table before using it to hold her up. In an attempt to center herself, she counted her breaths but lost count of them thanks to her swollen heart. It already caused her head to ache, which meant she wasn't going to fall asleep later tonight. The worst part was that she couldn’t recall what thought triggered such an attack.

Once she caught her breath, she looked up, finding Obi-Wan present with a helping hand ready to catch her, except she waved him off before running a hand through her hair. Her fingers messed with the bandana she forgot she tied around her curls earlier for neatening the manor.

“You do not look well,” Obi-Wan commented.

Padmé forced a smile. “I'm fine. Just need some alone time. Nothing to worry about.”

Maybe it was the bitter thought of the grand outdoors that caused the brief attack. By grand outdoors, she meant the world beyond their property, because for comfor,t she went to sit beside the poison garden.

Anxiety crawled along her spine.

It nipped at each little skeletal notch.

Alone did not exist in Padmé's world. No, there were always eyes upon her, causing her skin to itch. She didn't even need to move her attention from the garden to know Ani stood on the rooftop staring at Padmé with her hands clasped behind her back. Ani wasn't alone when it came to the watching. No, there was also Sheev watching from his window. The light on inside his room making the house wink at her. And now she had Obi-Wan who studied her from the kitchen window, not respecting her request for alone time.

Once upon a time, her and Ani created a little hand signal to garner secret conversations. She traced it along the ground, her fingers creeping dangerously close to some mushrooms that held onto three different poisons. If anyone were to eat them, it’d take days for them to pass away. Her fingers almost touched them.

On Tuesdays, she often stuffed raviolis with mushrooms and let her mind escape into the dreadful idea of stuffing such poison into them. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Ani left to meet her outside.

Sheev continued to watch her though, it felt as if he read her thoughts. It always felt like he was reading her thoughts.

Back in the day, he supported her on The Council and even helped drive her career until the incident occurred six years ago. Whenever he looked at her now, there wasn’t a sense of disappointment.

No.

Padmé rose to her feet, throwing a glance up at Sheev. There was a certain glowering animosity inside of him. To be honest, it began to grow and feast on his emotions prior to the incident. She couldn’t pinpoint when it happened but it seemed as if she evolved into something worse than a disappointment. Whenever she attempted to shrug the feeling off, it returned.

Maybe that caused the attack. Her head continued to ache while anxiety pinched her heart, and she moved away from her poison garden, needing privacy. There was no privacy inside Blackwood Manor yet her feet trembled at the idea of going too far. Oh how she wanted to be alone, but could never reach out for such a privilege.

Sheev always made sure he told her about how people would feel if they saw her again. It didn’t help that Ani was bad at telling white lies. Sometimes she’d return from town pretending everything was normal but was so bothered by all the stares and the chants and it was obvious from so far away how much the world hated her.

‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep.
Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’

Sheev was the first to warn her that just because the court acquitted her, it didn’t mean she was not guilty in the eyes of the public.

They’d want justice.

Chapter 20: How Many Kids Did You Kill Today?

How Many Kids Did You Kill Today?

“What’s wrong?” Ani caught up with Padmé by the creek on their property.

Water babbled, covering up any of their secrets. They were closed off from the rest of the world thanks to all the trees surrounding them. Little fireflies started to blink, sparkling between the leaves. Ani stopped right in front of Padmé, wrapping her arms around Padmé’s waist. Their toes kissed, sinking into the mud.

Padmé cast a look at the water, objects glinted among the stones. The ground was torn up here, not by critter hands but human hands with coins spilling out into the creek.

“Everything is falling apart,” Ani mentioned. “I can make him go away, I can make him leave us alone.”

“Who?” Padmé looked back up at Ani. There were so many times she did not understand Ani. It often felt as if they were both lost on different wavelengths, never meant to meet again.

“Obi-Wan.”

“No. No, no.” Padmé cupped Ani’s face. “Everything is fine the way it is. I plan on baking biscuits tonight, as always.”

Ani grimaced.

“What?”

Ani let go of her, turning away ever so slightly as she swung her hands at her side. “Everything is falling apart.”

The evidence was right at their feet.

Padmé shook her head, she kept one hand on Ani’s face. “No, Ani, nothing is falling apart. We’re going to all be alright.”

“I have a plan,” Ani continued.

“But I don’t want you to have a plan. . .” Padmé hesitated. “I don’t think you’re listening to me.”

Ani shook her head. “I don’t think you’re listening to me. I have a plan to help us, to help you.”

What else was Padmé supposed to say? Guess the universe decided she’ll never know as a few rocks showered over their feet. It didn’t occur to her how much she distanced herself from Blackwood Manor. She only started to venture toward the gate and forgot to consider how much the world can see of their lives there.

Three children clung to the gate, throwing rocks at them. Thankfully, their aim was off. Ani was quick to move Padmé out of their rocketing projectiles.

“HEY!” Ani yelled. "Get out of here!"

Those children laughed as they chanted, "'Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like. . .”

Ani swept a few coins off the ground, rusted from being outside too long. Before Padmé could catch Ani’s wrist, those coins flew straight into the face of one of the three kids. That child wailed as Ani went to chuck more items at the children. Their chanting was already cut short, and she went to throw a book once nailed to a tree at the kids. The nails still stuck out, rustier than the previously flung coins.

Out of nowhere, Obi-Wan appeared, managing to stop Ani from throwing the book. “No, Anakin.”

The three children scattered, giggling. They chanted their typical rhyme before disappearing into the surrounding trees. ‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’ Their laughter echoed, embracing Padmé as she clung to Ani as Obi-Wan managed to pry the book free from Ani’s grip. ‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’

Sheev was right, wasn't he? ‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep. It'd been six years and the people still demanded justice for a murder she did not commit. Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’ She never took a single life. She had no idea who killed everyone in their dining room all those years ago. Nobody ever stopped to ask why she'd kill so many people. She worked on the Council. She knew those people. They all decided to protect the Twins rather than follow through with Sheev's obsecene idea and yet. . .

One

They salivated all over the place, death bubbling up in their mouths as they shook on the floor.

Two

Ani and Padmé never spoke about the claw marks on the floor. Fingernails ripped straight through, destroying the carpet and Ani replaced it before Padmé was acquitted.

Three

“What if I ordered take away for everyone,” Obi-Wan suggested. While it was technically a question, it sounded more like a statement. He at least allowed Padmé to return to the present, where she wasn't witnessing the same deaths over and over again.

“But we never order take away,” Ani corrected.

“Well, today is already different so why not start a new tradition?” Obi-Wan observed the nails sticking out of the book before studying the coins all around them. “What is all of this?”

“Protection,” replied Ani.

Four

Padmé held Ani’s hand, surprised her heart no longer beat so fast. Something about them all together again eased the potential of racing thoughts. Something about the way Obi-Wan somberly nodded made Padmé feel like she was the one who did something wrong. This was all Ani and Sheev. Ani never liked listening to Padmé suggest the potential of empty words from such a man.

“I have to go into town anyway, I might as well pick up pizza or something,” continued Obi-Wan.

Padmé couldn’t remember the last time she had pizza.

“But I only go into town on Tuesday, and it’s no longer Tuesday,” protested Ani. Her hold tightened around Padmé’s hand. She looked back up at Ani. “Padmé said she was going to bake biscuits tonight.”

Five

Obi-Wan chuckled. Nothing Ani said was a joke or funny, yet there he was, chuckling before putting the book down to rest a hand on her shoulder and Ani’s. Even Ani softened under his touch. Something about her practically melted as if all that stress caused her to loom over the world, thinning her out until she reached so high into the sky, she was gone.

An absurd thought bubbled inside Padmé’s heart. “What if we all went?”

“What do you mean, what if we all went?” Sheev’s sudden appearance caused Padmé to leap out of her skin. She held a hand over her heart, feeling it quicken. He struggled with his wheelchair on the uneven ground. “What’s going on out here? I thought I was going to die of starvation.”

Ani rushed to Sheev to ensure the wheelchair didn’t topple over because it sure did come close. “Nothing, we are all coming back inside. Some kids harassed Padmé.”

Sheev grunted, shaking his head. “Animals, all of them. It’s not right how they treat you, any of you.” He glared at Obi-Wan. “And I imagine this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t bring any attention to our home.”

Rather than fight, Obi-Wan lifted his hands, and Padmé hoped that didn’t mean he was about to leave. “Look, I need to go into town anyway, so I’ll be back later. I’ll bring food either way, but if you need to start dinner now, Padmé, I will not be upset.” He shot another look at all the scattered coins in the creek before shuffling away from them through the gate.

Six

Somehow, the giggles of those children lasted longer than the presence of Obi-Wan. Fireflies glimmered all over the place as the sun disappeared. Ani left Sheev behind. She strutted right past Padmé, reaching for the gate without a word.

“Ani!” Padmé yelled after her, but she never looked back, not once.

Padmé sighed, deflating where she stood, knowing this was yet another sign that Anakin was going somewhere she could not follow.

Chapter 21: This is Satine Kryze

This is Satine Kryze

Satine Kryze no longer wanted anything to do with The Council.

In all honesty, she should’ve never returned to this place, and yet she did because she could not continue to tolerate everyone’s apathetic acceptance of tradition.

About six years in the aftermath of the murder and Padmé’s acquittal, Satine knew she needed to fight for change except her words permanently fell on uninterested ears. Over time, she gave up. Decided to travel. Maybe if she traveled, she could learn how to better protect the people around her, so she enlisted in the Peace Corps only to return over a year ago to this depressed town to find everything about the same. The entire town might as well be a museum.

Since her return, she could calculate all of one difference: Sheev Palpatine no longer attended meetings in person but over the phone.

Everyone sat at a long table with a single phone at the end, and an empty seat waited, even though Sheev spoke over the speaker, “Tomorrow, the first round of The Lottery will begin at 10:00 am. Names will be drawn every other hour until the final name is drawn.”

The apathy in the room might as well be faceless. People hummed and nodded in response before rising to their feet.

Meeting done.

Satine sat there, opening her mouth about to protest, but everyone knew she protested too much and so they fled the room, leaving her alone.

Something about their apathy and violence had rubbed off on her over time. While her heart was full of care, she leaned back in her seat, unmoving because as soon as she left, she would need to go home, somewhere along the way, she'd spot her reflection and hate herself. There was a point in time when she would’ve done something, done everything, but that Satine was gone, and she wasn’t sure which Satine Kryze was left.

One who would have her name drawn from The Lottery at some point, that was for sure. That was for sure for all of them. Name after name after name pulled free and read out loud for all to hear. Age didn’t matter.

Anyone could win The Lottery.

Chapter 22: Monosodium Methyl Arsonate

Monosodium Methyl Arsonate

Obi-Wan was not ready for a phone call he needed to receive and yet there he was, still on the phone listening to all the things that needed to be said. The whole time he stood there, nodding a bunch of times even though Dex was the only one present to witness such a reaction. He went to visit Dex to visit an old friend, but also because any phone calls meant for him would be directed to the diner, and apparently, a whole lot of phone calls were waiting for Obi-Wan's full attention.

“Yes, alright, I-I understand. . .” Obi-Wan attempted, hardly able to get a word in. Off to the side, Dex chuckled as he cleaned off the counter. “I will be home soon, I promise. . .This has nothing to do with whether I love you or not, I promise. . .Alright. . .Wait, Luke, put Leia on the phone. . ."

Dex continued to chuckle. “Trouble at home?”

Obi-Wan responded with a tight smile while he listened to the silence. He turned his back to Dex to continue the conversation over the phone. “Leia, you need to stop scaring your. . .No, I am not going to say please because I am telling you that you need to stop scaring your brother. . .Where's your father?. . .Pretend I didn't. . .Okay, I'm sorry. . .Yes, you can have more than one dad. . .Just like how we talked last week, that you can have more than one best friend. . .Exactly. . .Okay. . .Okay. . .Put Cody on. . .Yes, I love you. . .Thank you. . .”

Once again, Dex spoke up, “We have company.”

When Obi-Wan turned around, he spotted Anakin outside with her face pressed against the window, staring at them. “I will be back in a day or two. . .Sorry, I have to-I have to go now.” He meant to have a longer conversation, yet hung up the phone to watch Anakin watch him. “Let her inside.”

“There is something I’ve been hoping to speak to you both about,” Dex announced as he approached the door, only for Anakin to scatter as if she were nothing but an apparition. Anakin had a bad habit of performing such a disappearing act. She balanced being predictable and unhinged all at the same time. “Or I can talk to just you.”

Rather than open the door, Dex locked it and turned off the open sign. There was about an hour left according to the hours posted outside, yet he turned around, folding his arms over his chest. Obi-Wan took a seat at one of the tables that faced the windows in case Anakin returned.

“And what would you like to talk about?” Obi-Wan asked while he also wanted to let Dex know that he didn’t have the time for this unless he wanted to make them all a pizza.

Dex would probably make them a pizza no matter what.

“One of those true crime writers was passing through recently and I ‘accidentally’ stole all her notes,” Dex mentioned. He disappeared in the back leaving Obi-Wan to sit alone at the table. He wished they lived in a world where he could make a joke about ‘accidentally’ stealing something, but in that world, there would be no true crime writer investigating their lives.

In that other world, Obi-Wan and Anakin would still work together, solving little mysteries sometimes with the help of Cody or Padmé. and if they were especially lucky, Satine.

Satine.

Obi-Wan rubbed his face, burying his expression into the table in case Dex caught it. He felt the color drain from his cheeks, realizing how long it’d been since he thought about Satine. His chest grew a whole lot tighter while the idea of some comfort food sounded better and better.

At the sound of the door, Obi-Wan sat up, making sure he sat there straight, crossed his one leg over the other as he leaned back as if guilt wasn’t already eating him up.

“You don’t look well,” Dex commented right away as he dropped a three-ring binder onto the table. It rattled with such a loud thump. “I thought some information in here might interest you.”

Obi-Wan nodded as he opened it, admiring how organized the binder was. Little tabs defined the focus of the sections, and before he could select one at random, Dex flipped it open to a section dedicated to toxicology reports from the Medical Examiner’s Office. There was no new information present in those pages.

To practice politeness, Obi-Wan glanced up at Dex before going to the next section. He read through the reports about the dangers of arsenic before finding receipts. Their mysterious researcher created an odd collage of sorts. There were little receipts and security images of Anakin visiting the library because it was a Tuesday. She first returned her books before choosing a few and borrowing them. Copies of those receipts were taped to the little collage to create a timeline.

On the same page were receipts for Drexel MSMA 6 Plus, which he knew was the weed killer used at Blackwood Manor. Beside the receipts, there were security images of Sheev present at the hardware store purchasing landscaping items. The researcher made a note about how MSMA was an arsenic-based herbicide, which was a detail Obi-Wan never considered. They let the twins play in that yard.

The researcher circled the time stamps on the security images of Sheev at the hardware store and Anakin at the library, showing the two were across town from one another at the same time.

Obi-Wan gulped. He partially covered his face while he rested his elbow on the table to block Dex from seeing his quivering chin. His brain was unable to connect the pieces. Maybe if this was someone else’s mystery, then he’d understand it better because he was in too deep.

His chest was too tight, he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to sit there and believe Anakin played no part in this. He wanted this to be information to prove that Anakin was innocent in all of this. That in the growing days to the moment, she didn’t become jealous of people stealing Padmé away from her and more.

Besides, there were only three people who tended to either the gardens or all the land of Blackwood Manor, and those three people were: Anakin, Padmé, and Obi-Wan.

And Obi-Wan didn’t put the arsenic in the sugar.

He knew Padmé didn’t put the arsenic in the sugar.

Anakin was oddly absent from the dinner where the arsenic was in the sugar, mad about everything happening or something like that.

The memory of it was dull in Obi-Wan’s. It seemed like the only survivor who kept the memory whole was Sheev because for him it was like burning film because he wanted to erase it.

“Just thought you’d find that interesting,” Dex commented.

But Obi-Wan slammed the binder shut taking his breath as he exhaled. “Look, I don’t know. I need time to think, but could you hold onto this for a bit. There’s something else I would like to look into.”

Dex nodded as he closed the binder for Obi-Wan. “I still think you’re a bad detective.”

Obi-Wan pretended to smile. “Can I ask for one more favor?”

“Of course.” Dex plucked the binder off the table. “I guess I should see what the favor is first.”

“Could you make a pizza for us tonight?”

“Come back in an hour.” Dex grinned and disappeared into the back again.

“You want me to change this to open?” Obi-Wan called out as he headed toward the door.

And Dex leaned his head out to look at him. “No thanks, it’s about to get real strange out there with The Lottery and all starting tomorrow.” He paused for a long beat before stepping all the way back out again. “Second thought, you should stay here.”

“No, I believe there is something that I need to do in the meantime,” Obi-Wan mentioned before unlocking the door and leaving the diner. He had a few other rising suspicions he needed to attend to while he had the chance.

It wasn’t too late, but the world appeared to be asleep, meaning he could easily attend to his interests. Down the street waited a little gazebo with a tiny stage outside the building where the Council met. Maybe he could find information there. At the moment, he wasn’t sure what information he wanted to procure but a voice on the street startled him.

As quickly as possible, Obi-Wan disappeared into the alleyway of the diner. Garbage squished under his feet, and the scent of garbage was overwhelming, yet he leaned into the wall, looking out as a few voices mingled together as they headed away from where the Council met.

Chapter 23: Every Time You Leave

Every Time You Leave

“Have the pieces been set for tomorrow?” the first voice asked. The individual used a long hooded jacket to hide their identity, but Obi-Wan didn’t need to peer out because he’d become over familiar with such a voice. . .Sheev.

One Problem: According to Sheev, he was no longer able to walk due to the poison consumed the night everyone else died.

“Everything is set and prepared for the Lottery,” replied a second voice, which Obi-Wan also easily recognized. But it felt less dramatic to hear Dooku.

Obi-Wan waited for their voices to fade away into the night before peeling away from the alley wall. He carefully stepped back onto the street to find it silent. However, all the houses studied his every movement. The lights in the upper windows were to blame for the way they studied Obi-Wan. He sighed as he filed the moment away to bring up with Anakin later. Although it would be easier if Anakin were around, but unfortunately, there was no sign of Anakin.

Again, it really did feel like an apparition of her was following Obi-Wan.

The apparition was nothing but Obi-Wan's guilt taking on a physical form.

It was impossible to tell what would be worse, Anakin waiting to secretly meet with Sheev and Dooku or Anakin discovering Obi-Wan's secret. He worked so hard to keep with Bail and Padmé.

It was time to focus on the present, considering how fast time counted down to the start of The Lottery. Later, he would pick up the pizza for dinner and return with the information in the binder for both Anakin and Padmé to evaluate. Hopefully, Sheev would remain outside Blackwood Manor up to his current mischief, allowing them to sit there and best trace what happened in the past.

The houses continued to watch Obi-Wan as he made his way past the gazebo. Before the gazebo and its little stage, there were stones piled up in little creations. It looked as if the children were attempting to build towers, castles, and walls. He stepped over them, knowing their destruction wouldn’t do a thing. Tomorrow the same contraptions would be rebuilt with more stones to join them.

Inside the building, a few lights were left on. One flickered with someone moving about inside, so he was glad to have a warning that he wasn’t alone. Obi-Wan tried to push the door open, but it was locked. He was quick to pick the lock before opening it only for the door to bump into someone. Not good. He was balanced on his knees as he looked up finding a whole new surprise. Whatever excuse he thought of seconds ago, evaporated.

Obi-Wan slowly stood up a whole lot straighter. There was no time to fix his appearance as he blurted, “Satine.”

She was all there was in his thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” Satine replied, just as surprised.

“No, what are you doing here? I thought-I thought you were in Moldova and the last time I checked, this is not Moldova."

“Alright, but nobody has heard from you in six years. . .Wait, how did you know I was in Moldova?” retorted Satine.

“Padmé.” Obi-Wan shuffled his feet a bit, unable to shift his mind back to the bloody Lottery.

“Padmé? Wait, you talk to Padmé?” Satine shook her head. "You and Padmé have been speaking to one another this whole time, but you couldn't bother to reach out to me?"

Obi-Wan gawked at Satine and the following words were about to ruin the moment, “Why aren’t you talking to Padmé?” He simply did not know how to respond to her comment because he couldn't admit to the truth. A truth he guarded from Anakin who deserved to know more than Satine. Yet. . .Satine. If only he reached out and said a single word to her, maybe all of this would be different.

Satine raised her hands. “Stop, stop, I need to get a hold of this conversation.” She squeezed her eyes shut as she breathed in deeply through her nose. "I have to go home. I do not want to speak with you right now. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"You work for the Council?" Obi-Wan was a mess. The question came out all rude, but he couldn't grasp the idea of her working with the Council, allowing such an event as The Lottery to happen. "What happened to you being a pacifist?"

Satine chewed on her lower lip.

This was not the Satine Kryze that Obi-Wan once knew.

But Obi-Wan was no longer the same person she knew.

And for that matter nor was Padmé or Anakin.

Satine gradually reached out, tapping Obi-Wan’s shoulder as if he was a threat to her. She ripped her hand back. “You can’t-You can’t be here. They’ll have to add. . .They’ll have to add your name to The Lottery.”

“Speaking of The Lottery, I need to take a look at it.” Obi-Wan pushed past Satine, surprised she let him walk right past him with little complaint. He looked over his shoulder at her noticing all the houses winking out. The eyes of the street were no longer keeping watch, which somehow felt foreboding.

“I can’t let you do that.” Satine closed the door following him without putting much of a fight. “Besides, it’s locked.”

Thankfully, Satine took the lead to show Obi-Wan a lockbox. He smiled. "I have a feeling one of us is going to pick this lock tonight."

Satine rolled her eyes.

"What? It's important. What if you took out all the names and told no one?"

That time, Satine sighed. "Then there would be chaos."

Obi-Wan knelt before the lockbox, messing with its combination, and was surprised to find it easy to break. It was as if nobody really wanted to try and hide what was inside seeing that it was simply the date of the first Lottery. He smirked as he opened the door surprised by Satine's huff like she hoped he'd have a much harder time. Inside, he wasn't sure what he expected but it certainly was not what he saw. Behind him, Satine knelt down beside him to stare at the crystal bowl inside with what appeared to be over a hundred papers. He reached in, pulling out a random one and opened it.

"Padmé," Obi-Wan whispered, showing it to Satine before tucking it away into her back pocket.

"I don't think we should be doing this. If we want change, we need a plan."

Obi-Wan didn't listen to her as he pulled out another paper and snorted. "Padmé?"

"What?" Satine pushed him to the side to grab a paper. "Padmé!"

The two continued to pick through the names, finding they all said the same. Padmé. Padmé. Padmé.

"What in the world is going on?" Obi-Wan whispered, not knowing if he should drop them back into the bowl or take them all.

Satine kept patting Obi-Wan's shoulder. "We have to go."

"We have to. . ." He started, but then heard the floorboards creak.

They weren't alone anymore. . .

Chapter 24: I Know Who I Love

I Know Who I Love

Blackwood Manor watched Anakin as she lurked among the trees, nailing books back to them. When she returned, too many had fallen, which meant danger was closing in on them. She rebuilt their safety boundary before heading back toward the manor. Both lights were on above as the building watched her every movement, but she only spotted Padmé inside. She stood there with the window open as she brushed her hair, looking down at Anakin. The brush felt more like her needing to do something with her hands. Anything with her hands while she waited for Anakin’s and Obi-Wan’s return. But before Anakin could comfort her wife, she stopped beside the cherry blossom tree to touch it.

Anakin closed her eyes as the wind shifted, petals caressed her face.

When she opened her eyes, Padmé no longer stood in the window, but beside her.

“I stopped following him,” Anakin promised.

“But what did you do?” asked Padmé.

“Nothing.”

Padmé smiled, touching Anakin’s cheek. “Let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly out.”

And Anakin followed her. The whole kitchen smelled of biscuits, and Anakin wanted to sit and eat, yet none of the food appeared to be present. She moved toward the oven. “Is any food left?”

“All of it’s left,” Padmé replied, opening the oven. “Sheev went to sleep early, so I’m keeping them warm inside here."

Maybe there was a chance Anakin could select words again to protect them without anyone else present. She moved behind Padmé, wrapping her arms around her wife, who turned around to face her. Padmé stood on her toes delivering a chaste kiss.

They share a smile.

For some reason, Anakin found herself saying something else out loud. She spoke up with her thoughts rather than protective words and ways she learned from Sheev. Already she built a boundary to reprotect them, and she included Obi-Wan that time around. She thought about him each time she nailed a book to a tree. Not in a negative way, but she found happy past memories of them traveling together recurring in her thoughts.

Still, Anakin keeps her arms wound around Padmé’s waist. “Can I be honest about something?”

Padmé tilts her head to the side. “I have no idea why that sounds so ominous, but it does.”

Anakin shrugs. “I actually look forward to some pizza.”

Chapter 25

Notes:

sorry it was like i forgot how to write (and i'm still skeptical).

Stay a Thousand Years

“I believe now is a good time to run,” Obi-Wan mentioned as if he were not currently staring down the barrel of a gun. However, his stance said otherwise as he shielded Satine from Jango. He stood firmly as a human shield before Satine, dreading the fact that the weather had picked an unfortunate time to precipitate. Rain was quite the predicament when it came to running on potentially slippery surfaces, and they had a long way to go up a hill. "Satine. . .please. . ."

Behind them, the door opened as Dooku exited with one hand folded behind his back and the other carrying an umbrella. At least, one of them was prepared for such a dreary night. He studied Obi-Wan and Satine while he ambled toward Jango. The two stood side-by-side, looking mainly at Obi-Wan.

“I am afraid that I cannot let you leave here tonight,” Dooku mentioned before casting a glance at Satine. “Unfortunately, my statement also applies to you, Ms. Kryze.” Dooku’s scowl returned to Obi-Wan, and oh, he felt every ounce of his malice. “I imagine that comes as a relief to you. Consider it a. . silver lining to the dreadful situation you've found yourself in." He neared Obi-Wan for a few seconds, cupping Obi-Wan's face. "You should have never come back." Dooku flicked his fingers away from Obi-Wan as if he were swatting at a fly before taking a step back to stand beside Jango.

Neither Obi-Wan nor Satine flinched under his gaze and words. Jango continued to stand there with his weapon pointed directly at Obi-Wan’s chest. There was a chance Obi-Wan lingered on the precipice between life and death. It was a little funny and a little sad that the thought failed to bother him. All his life, he imagined he'd die for his loved ones. While other children imagined dying in their sleep of old age, he always perished in his dreams to prevent more harm from coming to his loved ones. The only anxiety shuddering in his gut was the fact that Satine did not stand a chance to make it back alone to Anakin and Padmé so he needed to interrupt his intrusive thoughts looping around martyrdom.

Obi-Wan took a step forward, causing Satine to latch onto his upper arm. He pulled away from her, feeling every moment of her fingers slipping away. He even reached up so his fingers could graze across hers, all of once. Even if it was for a millisecond, he accepted despite the fact he had a secret dream about them slipping into a space between time where they could stay a thousand years to escape these horrors that clung to the fabric of reality around them.

He could yearn for such a life all he wanted, but it'd mean abandoning his current life where Cody and Luke and Leia waited for his return. He chose to raise a family far from here in a place where they could not escape the horrors. They tumbled after him.

“This all feels rather uncivilized,” Obi-Wan commented with a nervous chuckle dancing on his words.

In surrender, Obi-Wan rose his hands before he came to a complete stop in front of Dooku and Jango. He kept his hands up while silently willing for Satine to run because it was now a terrible time to run. It was a little too late to run even though they needed to run either way.

“Obi!” Satine snapped; she clutched her hands together without him available to lean on.

Obi-Wan believed they stood a chance.

If he believed then it’d become a reality.

If he willed their escape then it would happen.

A fracture in his looping thoughts revolving around martyrdom.

Without turning around and running away, Obi-Wan launched himself into Dooku, who stood closest.

Neither Dooku nor Jango were prepared for such a move. He abruptly slid straight into Dooku, knocking him over with his umbrella flying, sending a flurry of captured raindrops into Jango. The gun went off, damaging both eyes and ears with its blast.

Satine understood the assignment because she was already sprinting away with Obi-Wan twisting his ankle to chase after him. He needed to ignore the pain as it popped up his leg. He was right about it being an unfortunate time for rain. There were enough leaves strewn all over the sidewalk and street to cause a disaster.

Pop, pop, pop continued Obi-Wan’s ankle as he hurtled after Satine, who looked ready to leave him behind. It might be better for them to split up.

Jango was on his feet before Dooku whose old bones probably did not fare well in such weather. Two more shots were fired and Obi-Wan was thankful Satine was far enough ahead.

His one knee scrapped the ground.

It was the first alert to the pain in his side.

Between the knee scrape and blood splatter, he knew a bullet had struck him.

The damage was unknown.

As if unharmed, Obi-Wan continued, straight into Satine, nearly knocking her over. He handed the little paper he stole away from the Lottery earlier.

“We should split up,” he gasped, barely hiding the pain.

“What?! No!” Satine bore some of his weight, except Obi-Wan made sure he turned his injured side from her.

“I sprained my ankle. I will only slow you down. Please!" He handed the paper to her. “Tell Anakin to start packing. We have to leave tonight. You have to help her. . .them. Her and Padmé."

Satine mouted a silent We back to Obi-Wan before releasing him. He staggered in a different direction, pressing the flat of his palm into his injured side. Pop, pop, pop went his ankle, a thankful distraction to the impending pain. Even in the rain, he could feel a sheen of sweat forming along his skin, the overstimulation that was about to break the pain floodgates.

As it rained, a shudder ran through the electricity, sending darkness their way. It was hard to tell if this should be labeled as luck or not. Obi-Wan peeled off between some homes with a little alley dedicated to bikes and garbage. He toppled over a tricycle, causing its little bell to sing out for attention. Not great, not great. Obi-Wan struggled to free himself from the tricycle before collapsing into some garbage piles. The scent of rancid fruit puffed up around him as he messed with his clothes to get a better look at the wound. Okay, okay. He winced as he traced where a bullet grazed him so it could be worse.

Footsteps came to an unexpected halt in front of him. The tricycle bell no longer called out leaving Obi-Wan in silence to look up at Jango and Dooku. Incredible, he never heard them coming.

Maybe it was about to get worse. No, it was going to remain okay, seeing that both of them were here and Satine was on her way back to Anakin and Padmé.

In actual surrender, Obi-Wan hoisted his hands up as he bled all over the place. He truly managed his best and most charming smile as he looked up at them. "Do either one of you happen to know any first aid?"

Chapter 26: The Lovely House

The Lovely House

Anakin and Padmé read.

The two sat on opposite sides of the room as Padmé studied her Book of Hours and Anakin found herself disappointed yet again by one of her library books. She kept starting it over and over again, believing this time it would be different. Maybe this time, everything will be different.

Each and every single time, Anakin found the same exact disappointment.

She slammed the book shut, startling Padmé across the room.

Anakin sighed as she looked at the clock. “We changed our schedule for Obi-Wan and he cannot even bother to bring pizza back at a proper time.”

Padmé exhaled. She placed a ribbon in her book before calmly closing it. “Ani, I honestly don’t know if he’s coming. . .back.”

“What do you mean?” Anakin stood there not sure what to do with her hands or feet. It was as if she existed in an odd plane even within her home. They’ve always lived there or for the most part, they’ve always lived there. The dragon curled around her heart moved, her anxiety dragged it awake. Soon Obi-Wan would return, ruining the moment Anakin should've been embracing with her wife. For the first time since his arrival, it was just her and Padmé.

Everything should be normal, but something wasn't right.

Anakin needed more ways to protect Padmé.

“You haven’t been inviting,” Padmé replied, shooting a look at the clock. “Sheev has been awfully quiet tonight. I should bring him dinner before it gets too late.”

“No, let me. I’m already standing.”

Padmé raised an eyebrow. “But I always bring Sheev his biscuits.”

Change was bad, but change was already happening. Anakin smiled as she closed the distance between the two of them. She ran her fingers along Padmé’s thighs before gently taking her book, opening it again.

“Please rest.”

And on that note, Anakin left Padmé without ever grabbing biscuits. No. She forced her limbs to move and take her upstairs to Sheev because she needed answers to questions. First, she needed the questions to form because she couldn’t let any of them get hurt again. She let them all get hurt before. It was her fault. Her fault. It was all her fault, wasn’t it?

Anakin tilted, a bit off balance at the thought of Luke and Leia underneath the tree outside. Buried with the worms, and if she thought too long about the twins, then she’d vomit, and Padmé would know and if Padmé knew, she’d get upset again. Right now, Padmé needed to rest, especially as the rain came in. The steady pitter-patt would keep them wide awake all night long.

Blackwood Manor hated rain the most. Its bones were the loudest whenever it rained a little, and it was currently pouring. All the trees around them groaned like ghosts while their cats hid, afraid of the somber night ahead.

Anakin arrived outside Sheev’s door with a little knock. When there was no answer, she entered. The dragon strangling her heart at the thought of him maybe already being dead because she couldn’t protect him. Except Sheev’s room was empty.

The light was left on with his window watching over the twins. Anakin entered noticing something on the bed. A piece of paper sat there simply saying: You know what I had to do.

Not again.

Anakin snapped her head up as electricity fizzled all around her. It went in and out, in and out, and when it returned again she spotted someone fleeing across their land. She walked up to the window, realizing out of all the people in the world, Satine. Before Anakin could call out a warning, Satine’s fists boomed on their back door. The thunderous sound clearly called for Padmé’s attention, considering her footsteps in approach.

You know what I had to do. Anakin looked at the paper not sure if it meant what she thought.

“Padmé!” she yelled, hearing the door open with frantic voices filling the manor. “Padmé!”

Anakin crumpled the paper before sprinting downstairs into the kitchen, where Satine entered. Her hands were dramatically grasping Padmé by the shoulders. All she kept saying was, “Padmé! Padmé! We have to leave. . .Padmé!”

To join the chorus of her wife’s name, Anakin said, “Padmé?”

Padmé hugged Satin before looking over at Anakin. “Ani! Go grab a blanket! She’s shivering!”

“There’s no time, we need to pack. Obi. . .Obi is on his way. We ran into. . .We ran into Dooku and-and Jango, I believe, and it all. . .” Satine was a shivering wreck, and it was ultimately Padmé who quickly darted into another room to grab a blanket for her. “Wait, wait. Obi-Obi-Wan wanted me to give you this. . .”

Satine took a soggy piece of paper out from her pocket, handing it to Padmé while she kept her eyes on Anakin the whole time who kept a paper of her own, crumpled in the palm of her hand.

“Start packing,” Satine ordered, “We leave tonight.”

“Why do we have to leave?” Anakin asked.

Meanwhile, Padmé stood with the slip of paper in hand, understanding the weight of it. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand what is wrong?” She looked up because the way she understood the Lottery was that every single person had their name in the Lottery once. She did not know the reality of the current Lottery. “Why don’t we wait for Obi-Wan?”

Anakin cast a look at the clock, shaking her head. She disappeared into the other room only to return with a raincoat. “When is Obi-Wan not in trouble?”

“We really should pack,” Satine suggested.

Anakin brushed right past her and Padmé, shaking her head. She pops the door open ready to leave. “This is our home. We shouldn’t leave.”

“Only Padmé’s name is in the Lottery!” Satine blurted.

“Then I’ll kill them, I’ll kill them all.” Anakin squeezed the doorknob letting rain in.

“Ani! Wait, no!” Padmé protested moving toward Anakin.

Before Padmé could reach Anakin, she stood on the other side of the door. She closed it, checking the doorknob three times to ensure it was locked. She touched the window looking into the kitchen at Padmé and Satine. The tears on Padmé’s cheeks were clear. Anakin mouthed the words, I’ll be back.

Padmé was at the door, fumbling with the lock, but Anakin was fast to turn away and disappear into the night. She heard Padmé calling after her. “No, Ani! Please! Ani! Just come back!”

Anakin tucked her hands into her pockets after pulling her hood on. Rain plopped all around her as she trudged forward ignoring Padmé’s pleas. Look, if she found Obi-Wan then she could get him to leave, and Obi-Wan was most definitely in trouble Not only could she feel it in her gut, but it was true about Obi-Wan being in trouble. The amount of times the man lost consciousness, you’d think he’d suffer from brain damage.

Within moments, Anakin stood over the town, looking down at it. Candles lit up the windows rather than electric lights. She should’ve brought a flashlight with her because she studied the path before her. Wheels ran through the mud before there were four sets of footprints. There was Anakin’s. There was Obi-Wan’s. There was even Satine's as she headed straight to the manor. But none of them mattered while Anakin studied the wheel imprints transitioning to footprints.

You know what I had to do.

Anakin sighed, shaking her head before she carefully approached the town below. Mud could send her flipping over to the ground, filling her head with concussions. Obi-Wan should’ve never came here. He was always in trouble and always brought trouble.

None of this would have happened if it was only Anakin and Padmé. Padmé and Anakin. While Sheev existed in the equation, it was never about him; it was about her and Padmé. Padmé and her.

Chapter 27: The Man Who Sold the World

Man Who Sold the World

Anakin walked straight down Main Street as if the hour was not late in the pouring rain. Upon arrival, she expected the streets to be silent except for the last gasping moments of a falling raindrop. Instead, the little children are out; it was the night before the Lottery, so a certain enticing excitement circulated. Already, little stone structures littered the little yards outside the houses. On all their porches crouched the children while they spied on Anakin walking along the street. She stayed focused on the main building where all the names were kept.

Most of these children didn’t need to fear their names being picked. Instead, it was all fun and games for them. Their teachers took grand moments to teach about physics and architecture as they played with stones, seeing who could be the most creative with their contraptions they built in anticipation.

As Anakin passed, the kids whispered their usual chorus:

‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’
‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep.
Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’
One, two, three, four, five. . .

Their counting punctuated Anakin’s march forward. She dug her fingers into her palm, knowing all her energy needed to become focused. It still would’ve been nice to push on the air, offer a force that could knock over each and every single child with prying eyes. Their hands were wrapped around the bars of their porches as they continued to sing and count. Nobody was in unison, causing a bit of confusion as their words intermingled and twisted together.

Anakin stopped outside the main Council building, inhaling deeply as a weird shudder coursed through her veins. The children never stopped their words. ’Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’ All those years ago. Six years was a long time. It was almost a decade. Almost a whole decade past since the Council, led by Sheev, announced the necessary death of the twins. Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’ They deserved to die. Every single one of them. More of them deserved to die.

The dragon raged inside Anakin; she needed to swallow back some unnecessary tears because they streaked her cheeks as emotions became overstimulating. It would be a great time to climb out of her skin or to release such energy watching it explode, rippling out from underneath her skin into the faces of all the watching children who should be in bed, thankful for the early sacrifices that happened those six years ago.

Anakin pressed forward, fully believing the door would push back, but it was left ajar. She didn’t even need to turn the knob, and it left her wondering what that could mean. An unlock door meant you welcomed danger and tragedy. Did that apply to her entrance? Was she the danger? Was she the tragedy?

Anakin Skywalker, a walking tragedy.

She held the knob, still needing to check it three times to ensure it was unlocked despite the door clearly being ajar, as she pushed through seeing light leak back from a far corner. Anakin walked forward, not making sense of her surroundings because she didn’t want them. Didn’t care about them. She pulled the door shut as the children counted: Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. . . No more.

Walls melted into rooms and rooms melted into walls as Anakin approached the light in the back. Please don’t let her be tragedy walking, yet she did little to disapprove, seeing how she moved like a moth to the flame. Another door was left ajar as she pushed it open after she counted to three, checking to ensure the door was unlocked.

Another welcome mat was set out to invite danger and tragedy.

Anakin entered an office finding Sheev sitting at a desk with several candles lit up. The little light on the desk appeared to have exploded when the electricity went out. Shards created a border between him and Anakin, standing at the end of the desk. She didn’t remember closing the distance between the two of them. Silence muffled the moment, suffocated the moment, and somehow she missed the children singing: How many children did you kill today?

“What are you doing here?” Anakin had to ask.

“What do you mean by 'what am I don’t here?'” replied Sheev, there was no bitterness or sarcasm dripping in his voice. He leaned back in his chair, the way the chair creaked was how the sound fully returned in the moment. Their voices meant nothing. They might as well have been communicating telepathically. “I told you why I’m here.”

When Anakin laid the note out on the desk, the ink was gone. The rain stole it, letting black bleed all across the paper. “Yes, but I’m still. . .confused.”

“How are you confused?” Sheev replied, ushering Anakin to take a seat, but she didn’t. “I thought the plan was clear when I spoke it into reality?”

“Satine arrived tonight, saying we all need to pack, that Padmé’s name is the only one in the Lottery. That is not what you said. You said Obi-Wan’s name only.”

“That is correct.” Sheev rose from his seat and moved past Anakin. The man could’ve been gone for a few minutes or an hour or two. Anaki would never know. She didn’t have a single clock to inform her of how time passed, and her it felt static. No, slow. It felt like velvet rubbing on velvet, and she turned when Sheev returned with all the names.

Padmé Amidala showered over the floor as confetti.

Hundreds of little papers spelling out her death rained down on Anakin while she stood there. It didn’t matter how much she chewed her nails, they dug deep in to her skin. Continued to dig deeper and deeper, letting blood snake past her fingertips to the floor.

A constellation of confetti littered the floor before Anakin’s feet. She studied it before raising her attention back to Sheev, who stood in the doorway carrying a bowl full of more confetti. He pulled out a new piece and there written in crisp ink was: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Notes:

This might be more than 30 chapters! But we shall see. It's all because I wanted to add something.

Chapter 28: This is Obi-Wan and Anakin

This is Obi-Wan and Anakin

Obi-Wan and Anakin were never meant to grow close to one another.

19 Years Ago

The nightly chill of the desert was enough to chase anyone inside yet Obi-Wan stood outside with a young Anakin, draping his jacket over Anakin’s shoulders while she struggled to light a candle inside a floating lantern. All around the material, she wrote memories of her mother before releasing it letting her mother’s soul spiral free into the air. The lantern floated toward the stars, ready to join them. Anakin pulled the jacket closed around her shoulders. She drowned in its fabric, too small for it.

The whole time, Obi-Wan stood there not knowing what to do with his hands. He wanted to comfort Anakin beyond only making sure she wasn’t cold. Instead, she stood there, folding her hands behind her back because she worried it’d get too awkward if she flailed her hands around, clueless. Obi-Wan did not live a life of comfort, but he had little to complain about. He experienced love in a way that greatly contrasted Anakin and did not how to translate the language of love Anakin learned over her childhood years.

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan. His hands dropped to his side and Anakin held out a lantern currently barren of memories for Obi-Wan to take. For some reason, Obi-Wan didn’t take the lantern but patted Anakin on the head like a dog.

“What about you?” asked Anakin while she tilted her head to the side, avoiding the head pat.

“What do you mean?”

“For your father.” Anakin continued to hold up a memory-less floating lantern.

Obi-Wan chewed on his lower lip as he took a few steps away, his back to Anakin, who knew what it looked like to see someone hiding their tears. After all, that was what her mother did all the time. The way Obi-Wan breathed sang of tears. They always provided a humiliating shakiness.

Moments later, a second lantern lifted away yet when Obi-Wan turned around, the only sign of his tumultuous emotions was Anakin reading too much into his expression.

“I hope you don’t find life with me too dull,” Obi-Wan said and again looked ready to pat Anakin on the head, yet rested a hand on her shoulder instead. He carefully knelt down before Anakin. In that moment, all Anakin wanted was a hug and she fully expected a hug. “Let’s go inside.”

There was no hug but Obi-Wan patted Anakin on the shoulder, knowing he was already messing up. He took a rather too large step away before turning back, looking at Anakin again. He almost lost his balance there. They were surrounded by all the prickly pears but for once all the hissing insects were silent as if they mourned the two they lost.

Anakin was meant to be adopted by Obi-Wan's “father,” but found Anakin was now stuck with Obi-Wan, who attempted a smile, it was a sad smile. All those years ago, Qui-Gon adopted Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan was sure he regretted it every day. The man followed his own set of rules and chaos while Obi-Wan was the opposite. One day, Qui-Gon pointed out Obi-Wan was old enough to be on his own and found another child in need. It was the last mystery the two were meant to solve together. When Obi-Wan understood it as their last, the finality was in the sense he’d move on. Not find himself with a well of grief and a child thanks to the death of Qui-Gon.

“I’m sorry. . .Ani.”

17 Years Ago

The Curator kept looking down at Anakin. The glasses magnified his eyes as he stared down his nose at her while she kept up walking with him and Obi-Wan. She fixed her deerstalker hat every single time afraid that was the problem. There was something particularly impeccable about Obi-Wan that Anakin could not grasp. The way Obi-Wan moved about the world seemed to churn justice so Anakin hope she could understand his secrets to allow people to not find similar tragedies as her and her mother.

Prior to entering the museum’s armory, the Curator paused. “I’m sorry, could you explain the presence of the. . .” His hands fluttered around Anakin. “. . .Child. . .”

The way he said the word made Anakin feel smaller than small, turning her into an insect rather than an individual with a dragon raging inside her heart. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands to let pain flutter from her jagged hangnails.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin with a blank face before he replied, “What child?”

The curator paled.

“Oh, her?” Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged a genuine smile. It was a sad shared smile without any laughter at the joke because Obi-Wan seemingly only ever chuckled in private. Scratch that, Obi-Wan did, in fact, chuckle sometimes when he became interested in a spontaneous topic that usually related to the art of forensics. Obi-Wan shrugged as he looked back at the Curator. “She’s the Watson to my Holmes.”

“Then why is she dressed as Holmes?” the Curator inquired with such a tone that Anakin wished she could punch the man in the face.

She squinted at him, imagining that she could push him with the force of her mind yet nothing happened.

“Because she wanted to dress like Holmes, does it matter?”

The Curator opened his mouth to reply, but Obi-Wan beat him to the punch (not the literal punch Anakin dreamt of). The longer she stood there watching this museum man, the more she wanted to use an invisible force to shove him to the ground. Make him embarrassed. Get him to shut up. Nothing happened, no matter how many times she strained her brain at the thought of pushing against him and letting gravity do the rest of the work.

“Because if it does, we can leave now. I am sure you can hire someone else who will look into your. . .” Obi-Wan pulled out a smeared post-it note and read. “Black knight armor that walks around the museum at night.” He held up the note so it could be seen by the Curator. “I am sure there are plenty of others who will solve your mystery. I imagine we were not the only detectives you could hire, correct?”

The Curator cleared his throat, cleaned his glasses, and then took the time to respond. “I am afraid the last detective nearly died of. . .fight. . .”

Fright. He said one of Anakin’s danger words. It was the second time someone said a danger word since Anakin first claimed them early that morning. She gulped, reaching for Obi-Wan’s sleeve to stop him from further entering the armory. If the third word was spoken, she could not protect him, and he had a bad habit of always finding himself in peculiar danger.

14 Years Ago

The Lighthouse did not kindly welcome Obi-Wan nor Anakin, and yet they selected to spend the night at such a location. The two arrived on the ferry with ten other ghost hunters who were all chasing after a cash prize if they were able to survive the night. Everyone glared at each other while doing their research and testing their equipment. Meanwhile, Anakin stood at the bow watching the waves beat the island to a pulp. She needed three danger words, three danger words that could truly protect them against such majesty.

Chain.

Fish Hook.

Polaroid.

Each word sat on the verge of their word, but far enough away that they should remain safe. She hugged her danger words, pulling them deep into her heart, knowing she could protect herself and Obi-Wan.

Even as the two walked up and down, the curved stairs that whined as waves crashed on the outside. Ruins of an old plague hospital littered the island, allowing many alcoves for ghosts to hide. According to those on the island, the hauntings only started when they started to fix up the place to welcome interested tourists. Over the years, adventurous souls would invade the island for kicks and laughter. Those who wanted to be daring came, and now the general public could come when the sea allowed them.

The sea did not want to allow these guests, and Anakin wasn’t sure who picked each ghost hunter off one by one.

It started when someone claimed that ghosts with chains stalked the halls at night.

The fourth ghost hunter was killed by a fish hook.

One ghost hunter called for attention, claiming they caught an image of a ghost on their Polaroid, but no photo was found by their corpse.

And Obi-Wan was the one who said Polaroid out loud while he looked at the images that never had the chance to truly develop. The ghost hunter used expired material, resulting in nothing for them to deduce.

By then, Anakin no longer wore her deerstalker hat yet she wished she did so she could pull it down over her face to scream into oblivion. It wasn’t Obi-Wan’s fault because how could she warn him about the danger words when them being said out loud was what brought the danger. Still, she wanted to scream into her hat as anxiety overwhelmed either way.

That was the second most haunting moment of the Lighthouse fiasco. It often reigned supreme, though in Anakin’s mind as she yelled, “No! No! No! Chain! Fish hook! Polaroid! There, I said them! We are in danger.”

Obi-Wan rose to his feet with shaking hands as he first touched the tops of her shoulder then her forearms. He didn’t seem to know how to comfort her in such a moment as the sea exploded all around them. Salty mist splattered across their faces as he ended up resting a single hand on her shoulder. For some reason, Anakin wanted a hug.

The following events made her yearn even more for a hug.

“Ani, we can go?” Obi-Wan glanced at the large waves. “Maybe not right now, but we can just go. We don’t need to stay. We can camp out on the pier.”

But the pier was gone by the time they arrived.

The only one was inside the Lighthouse and they were the last ones alive. Bodies were strewn across the island, blood staining water.

In a brief history of events, Anakin woke in the middle of the night and got up to see what. She crept around mirrors that were placed all around so she saw multiple versions of her fearful self as a gray ghost with chains jangled behind her. He held a fish hook that he rose high in the air ready to strike.

Anakin plummeted to the ground, she threw herself down so the fish hook missed not realizing Obi-Wan sprinted onto the scene to help. He punched the ghost in the face so it wasn’t much of a ghost after all but the fish hook caught his right lung, partially collapsing it. While Obi-Wan fought for his life, Anakin stood there looking down at their attacker, realizing it was who had invited them to the island. The sight of the unmasked individual caused Anakin to punch again and again and again. Bones crunched. Blood splattered.

Off to the side, Obi-Wan whispered such a broken, "Ani." He wrapped his arms around Anakin forcing her backward so she couldn't continue to wield her firsts as a weapon. She considered it a hug. His blood soaked her clothes as she hyperventilated wanting to still punch the man who invited and killed them there at the lighthouse. It turned out the people who invited them to the island wanted to kill the ghost hunters to create a more haunted location to bring in macabre tourism.

"Ani! Anakin!" Obi-Wan continued.

Anakin's arms loosened as did Obi-Wan's. She rolled over, realizing she was losing him, losing him fast. She sat in pool of blood and held him close not wanting him to die. No, he couldn't die. Please don't let him die. It’d be hours before the ferry would arrive to the island and Anakin struggled to keep Obi-Wan alive. She gathered three more danger words that she never repeated again because they saved Obi’s life.

He lived long enough for them to not only get off the island and to a hospital, but to a town where he was raised for a long recovery.

Funny, how it was these events that would ultimately first introduce Anakin to the town and Blackwood Manor.

More importantly, it was these events that would ultimately first introduce Anakin to Padmé.

12 Years Ago

Anakin watched Padmé disappear from her line of sight. She pressed herself into a wall not wanting to peel herself away even as Obi-Wan walked over to her. Not too long ago, Padmé's coat hung there inches away from Anakin's face, and she could still catch her scent wafting around the office.

For a few minutes, Obi-Wan rattled off facts while Anakin imagined Padmé approaching them again and walking away before approaching them again. She’d seen Padmé around town, but that was the first time she passed through the doors of Obi-Wan’s private detective office with claims of being stalked.

“I can tell you are not listening to me,” Obi-Wan stated.

If Anakin had been listening to the words before these, she would've known Obi-Wan made a joke about the sacred chickens of Ancient Rome that so fascinated his mentor, Qui-Gon. Chickens so long dead, they had no impact on prophecy anymore and certainly hosted no meaning revolving around Padmé. It could've been a charming moment if Anakin had heard those words first rather than Obi-Wan calling her out, causing the dragon inside her to prickle.

“You are not listening to me again.” Obi-Wan dropped papers on his desk while shaking his head. Anakin needed to move away from the wall yet it felt as if she were abandoning the touch of Padmé forever. She looked over her shoulder at Obi-Wan who scowled. “How are we supposed to continue working together if all you ever do is not listen? There is a way for things to be. . ."

“I listen,” Anakin retorted. Obi-Wan was the one who never listened. “I listen all the time.”

“Then what did I just say?” Obi-Wan’s hand rested on his hip. “Repeat it back to me.”

“Padmé is in danger and all you want to do is argue," replied Anakin still having no idea about the mention of the sacred chicken or all the warnings Obi-Wan mentioned about the Council that Padmé worked with, especially a Sheev Palpatine. "She could be dead right now because you decided to talk again rather than take real action."

“No, I do not want to argue. If you were listening to me, I was creating a plan on how to protect her. There are rules we need to respect here!"

Anakin rolled her eyes. “It was a bad plan, that’s why I didn’t listen.”

“How was it a bad plan? Please do explain and propose a new one.”

Anakin tossed her direction after Padmé. “I’ll sleep in her room.”

Obi-Wan dropped into his seat and placed his hand over his face. “Anakin, I swear. . .”

“Why don’t we see whose plan works best?” Anakin suggested pulling her jacket off a hook.

As Anakin left, she heard Obi-Wan calling after her, “Anakin!”

But Obi-Wan would never go out of his way to stop Anakin. No, he’d sit there being annoyed, proving that he was the one who did not listen. He’d sit there thinking about laws and how to best approach the situation at hand rather than actually protect Padmé.

Padmé was in trouble and Anakin had every intention to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her.

Outside, the world was a little too bright as Anakin hurried after Padmé, knowing she headed toward the building where the Council met. She had ideas that would change the world around them for the better. Except when she arrived at the building, Padmé appeared to be absent.

Instead, Sheev Palpatine opened the door with a mile. “Ah, Ms. Skywalker, right?”

“I was looking for Padmé.”

“I don’t believe she is here right now. You’re welcome to come inside.”

Anakin should find Padmé.

“She might’ve gone home. She has been staying at Blackwood Manor with me.” Sheev Palpatine paused as he considered his words. “I do believe she has complained of some trouble following her. . .”

“Yes, she is hiring me and Obi-Wan to protect her and to figure out who is doing this to her.”

Sheev Palpatine nodded several times. “Yes, yes, brilliant. Padmé is brilliant, I know. However, I do believe she might need more immediate help. I’m not sure if either of you have considered to extending your services to bodyguard duties? I imagine the world out there is violent and you’ve found yourself in some action. One of you might want to stay with us while the other investigates.”

It was as if he read Anakin’s mind.

6 Years Ago

The twins had no idea that death had come knocking on the doors of Blackwood Manor.

Anakin wanted to curl up and scream, scream as loud as possible; she needed to scream so all of the world could hear her because nothing she did could protect her children. Both Luke and Leia chased each other in the playroom, engaged in a never-ending game of tag because they were too close to one another to manage an actual escape. Anakin bit down so hard on her hand, her teeth cut through her skin.

Downstairs, Padmé spoke to the Council, who stood on their doorstep. She and Obi-Wan insisted the best way to resolve this situation was a conversation. Words rather than action were needed to protect the lives around them. Padmé told Anakin again and again she needed to better understand and respect the fear deep inside the people all around them, which was unfair.

Nobody ever considered the fear deep inside Anakin.

The Townspeople were dying from war and famine, believing a sacrifice could help. They wanted bloodshed to protect themselves thinking that was how the world worked. Nobody listened to Anakin as she defined the little magics they could perform to protect themselves. The magics that Sheev also taught her that saved her life and Obi-Wan’s. If it wasn't for Anakin, there wouldn't be an Obi-Wan after the events of the Lighthouse to recommend solving all problems with conversation.

Yet they weren’t working here. For days, they listened to names called out from the Lottery waiting to learn who would die for the greater good.

It ended with: Luke Skywalker.

No, it almost ended there because Padmé who objected to such a cruel event, volunteered herself. She shoved people out of the way, screaming that she volunteered. She volunteered as a tribute to let the people take her life.

All week as names were called, the children of the town built little castles out of stone, readying them to throw at whoever won the Lottery. They lifted their stones to engage with the process yet Anakin and Obi-Wan got in the way, telling Padmé to run. The Council was in shambles, not even listening to Sheev, who also objected to the Lottery.

They decided to halt the process because the people couldn’t even let stones leave their hands to soar at Padmé. It was Padmé. The people loved Padmé. It’d be different if a different name was selected. Neither her nor Anakin brought the twins to the event so it wasn’t like they could cave in Luke’s face before the stage.

Obi-Wan insisted Anakin sweep her wife away while he stayed behind and look at them all now, believing words would save them when words already got them into this mess.

Sheev continued to speak as he approached Anakin, “I have a plan, but I do not believe your wife or Obi-Wan will approve.”

Anakin winced as her teeth ripped out of the wound she created on her own. She hid her hand behind her as she turned to find Sheev on the steps behind her. Anakin stood at the top of the massive staircase, afraid to face her children. How was she supposed to tell them that the world wanted either Luke or their mother dead? It had to be one or the other.

“I think we should pack up and leave tonight,” Anakin said.

“The Council is already here. You cannot escape.”

“The Council lied to us.”

“What makes you think that?” Sheev replied. “This is how democracy works. They voted for this Lottery to take place and. . .”

“They said it was a way to help rid us of the violence. That while our names would be there, it would be the criminals who deserve to die to make a sacrifice. It was supposed to be a chance of redemption. . .” Anakin couldn’t remember all the words of the Council. They made sure she sought out all the dangers, to protect them and keep them alive and what did that get her?

“Do you want to hear my plan or not?” Sheev asked.

So Anakin listened to Sheev’s plan.

Anakin agreed with Sheev’s plan.

Later

As the Council sat in the next room, Anakin entered the kitchen to poison the sugar. In the event eyes were upon her, she pretended to poison other foods, and it was a smart move because her false actions were interrupted by Obi-Wan.

“Ani. . ." Obi-Wan stood in the kitchen doorway, thinking Anakin laced the mashed potatoes with arsenic. At first, neither one of them leapt into action. Anakin snorted, she smirked at Obi-Wan glad she was smart enough to foil him. "What have you done?"

“You have to let it happen,” Anakin told him. “I’m doing this for Padmé, for you, for all of us.”

“All of us?” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Anakin, what did you just use?”

“Arsenic.” Anakin dropped the little bottle into a nearby trash can. "Courtesy of Sheev."

"Courtesy of Sheev? You do realize this whole Lottery ordeal was his idea?"

"Liar." Anakin rolled her eyes. Not this again. "We need to start packing, trust me."

Obi-Wan stalked into the kitchen, looking more like a lion tamer about to approach a lion. “How many dishes did you poison?”

“The one.” Anakin moved before it, realizing she might need to fight Obi-Wan to make sure he believed only the potatoes were compromised. “Just leave, pretend you saw nothing. It’s for the greater good, they’ll get what they want.”

“And what is that?”

“A sacrifice. It’s not fair for them to decide who lives or dies. They should be making the sacrifice themselves.”

“Anakin. . .” Obi-Wan said this with such softness as he lifted his hands, continuing his lion tamer approach. "Why don't you just go upstairs? I'll take care of this, okay?"

No, not this time. Not Obi-Wan and all his rules. Anakin kept a straight face to avoid emotions fluttering across his expression to warn Obi-Wan with his true thoughts. The closer Obi-Wan approached, the more Anakin knew she wasn't going to get out of this without some additional drama. Good thing Padmé left out a butcher knife with the meal she prepared. Anakin stepped in that direction, which was a lovely move because it looked as if she were about to circle Obi-Wan as he made his similar move. Her hand already grazed the knife’s handle. Obi-Wan made his move, he lunged forward as Anakin snatched the knife.

Obi-Wan grabbed the mashed potatoes he believed to be poisoned, throwing them to the ground.

Anakin took the knife, slashing it across Obi-Wan’s chest, not caring about the blood that blossomed across the wound. The whole time Anakin was so focused, she missed Padmé entering with the twins. She stood there stifling their screams as blood splattered across the mashed potatoes on the floor. Obi-Wan staggered backwards against the table, hand over the open wound.

Meanwhile, Anakin stood there with the knife. “Padmé, pack up. We need to leave. I will take care of the Council.”

“What are you talking about?” she blurted.

Luke sobbed as Leia glared at the blood on the floor.

“Ani!” Padmé wiped some tears from her face. “What is going on here?”

“He poisoned the potatoes,” Obi-Wan said, still leaning into the table.

“He’s lying, we need to go now!” Anakin raised her voice, not caring that the Council was in the other room. She moved forward, causing Padmé to flinch. Did she think the knife was for her? “I’m not going to hurt you!”

Padmé shot a look at Obi-Wan.

“DON’T!” Anakin didn’t mean to shout. Sheev was right about none of them being prepared for these decisions. No, he was right about Obi-Wan not wanting to agree with them. Padmé would eventually understand with all of them safe and far away. “Don’t look at him.”

“You stab him!” retorted Padmé pulling the children closer, not letting them look.

“I slashed him.” Anakin still approached Padmé, not ready to abandon the knife. She wasn’t afraid to get dirty, if needed. Sheev’s idea was perfect and clean if she could commit to it.

“You’re scaring me, Ani. . .” Padmé backed away with the children.

Anakin exhaled, she leaned over putting the knife on the ground before standing up, hands still raised in surrender. The arsenic was in the sugar, something Padmé would never use and Sheev understood it needed to look like an accident to protect her since she made the food.

Once the knife was on the ground, Padmé crouched down, looking at the twins while she kept them faced away from the scene. “Go outside and play with, Uncle Obi. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“We have to pack!” Anakin insisted.

“Ani! Stop! Right now!”

Obi-Wan was careful to move around Anakin, taking a towel on his way out to gather his blood. He was the worst person to send outside with the twins at such a moment. Luke and Leia also carefully scooted around the scene. They flinched, looking terrified when Anakin turned ever so slightly to smile at them. They darted outside together.

“Anakin. . .” Padmé’s tone was clipped. Anakin smeared her tears away as she looked to her wife. “I need you to trust that I can handle this.”

Padmé could not handle this.

She was too kind.

Anakin ground her teeth together to keep herself quiet so Padmé could think she was in control.

“I will clean up this mess you created and you will go upstairs. I will tell everyone that you are sick and we will pretend this moment never happened.”

“Alright.” Anakin walked past Padmé, she caught her elbow. “Yes?”

“It was only the potatoes like Obi said?”

No, it was only the sugar. “Only the potatoes,” Anakin lied before managing one very believable, “I’m sorry.”

Chapter 29: The Future is Confetti

The Future is Confetti

Anakin realized that she could end this.

She could end all of this nonsense in a split second. Sheev offered a potential timeline that would allow her to hide away with Padmé in their castle above the town, forever. But the future was confetti; there were too many splintered options to select from that Anakin was left speechless. If Obi-Wan were present, he’d have words to spare while Anakin stood tongue-tied. She watched Sheev chuckle as he handed off Obi-Wan’s fate in nothing but a bowl full of his name on confetti.

“Tomorrow, when the names are drawn, we will stand there saying lies until the very end. You won’t need to worry a thing about the procession, which I imagine. . .” Sheev moved toward the exit. The front door opened, and Mas Amedda stood out there, reminding Anakin of their shared unsavory past. A lone car waited outside in the rain that parted while Mas stood there with an umbrella. “. . .will be delightful for Padmé. You’ll never have to worry about losing her, she’ll always be in the same place.”

Anakin carefully put the bowl of their confettied future down on a desk, watching Sheev make his exit. The man refused to acknowledge Anakin any more than he needed to. Only Mas nodded in Anakin’s direction before he closed the door shut. There was no drama with the slamming of the door. No, it was a simple, silent.

Ever so slowly, Anakin released one long, long breath she’d been holding so Sheev couldn't sense her nerves. She didn’t want him to hear the way oxygen shook inside her lungs. Anakin turned, screaming as she flipped a table, not realizing her own strength for a split second. It was what she deserved after all the times she wanted to protect and defend and never could. More confetti rained all around her as she continued to tear at the walls around her. She stormed off into the kitchen, finding liquor that she poured around the room before finding a lighter. There had to be something more flammable available to her within this building.

Anakin dropped the match, watching flames crawl around as the little pieces of paper singed. She moved past ignoring how heat licked her skin. In the bathroom, she discovered some hairspray. Anakin sighed as she moved around the bathroom with a flamethrower of her own creation. Thick smoke suffocated the corners of the building, forcing Anakin out the front doors. She tossed the hairspray can, not blinking as it burst deep in the flames.

And the children no longer sang:

‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’
‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘Would you like to go to sleep?’ Down in the boneyard ten feet deep.’
Ani asked, ‘How many kids did you kill today, Padmé?’
One, two, three, four, five. . .

No, the world was about as silent as a simple door closing. Only the flames crackled as Anakin struggled to catch her breath from all the billowing smoke around her. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. Anakin turned ready to disappear into the night, but she could’ve sworn she heard a voice. She waited, betting it was some child ready to mock her, but instead, it was a familiar voice calling out for help.

Other than sirens, the rest of the world devoured all chance of sound, leaving Anakin to hear Obi-Wan call out for help from somewhere within the burning building. She didn't even know he was present.

The firefighters always arrived from the next town over, meaning they wouldn't be here in time to save a life.

It was always smoke inhalation that killed before fire could ferry a person to death.

Anakin covered her mouth and nose before she plunged into the building to make a difference. Her eyes stung, and squinting barely helped her see through the thick smoke to find her way to Obi-Wan. She shut her eyes as wood crackled around her. Somewhere deeper in the building, the floor collapsed.

Obi-Wan shouted louder.

Anakin kept a steady beat with her fingers. She tapped her thigh as she moved closer to him. She told herself if she stayed on beat, stayed on task, then she could save them both. Her feet rocketed down some steps, glad they hadn't given out.

Someone tied Obi-Wan to a post in the basement. He was stuck there, hacking away with a sad attempt to guard his face with his knees.

The two locked eyes with one another.

Far off sirens screeched with false hope of a rescue.

Floorboards cracked open, nearly hitting the two of them while they hung in a moment in time, silent.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked as if he were sounding out her name for the first time.

“I don't believe there's time to talk,” Anakin replied before she moved forward to struggle with the rope binds around Obi-Wan's wrist. They were soaked in blood from eating away at his skin yet there was more blood puddling on the ground around him. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Once Obi-Wan's hands were free, he lurched forward, struggling to get to his feet while Anakin crouched there, evaluating his movement. The smoke was getting worse; it simply wanted to asphyxiate.

“Nothing but a flesh wound,” replied Obi-Wan. He covered his bloody wound, which was thankfully bandaged up with some rags.

Anakin rose to her feet. “Aren't most wounds, flesh wounds?”

Obi-Wan huffed as he took the first steps to the stairs. “I don't believe now is the time to have this argument.”

In helping Obi-Wan, Anakin lost the steady beat she carried through the flames. As he went upstairs, she almost said stop, afraid she didn't do enough to protect then she'd watch him perish. That the steps would come crashing down to solely skewer, but that didn't happen. No. Not at all.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan dragged her away and up the stairs. "What are you waiting for?"

The two crashed to the ground outside, hardly able to breathe yet alive. Anakin rolled onto her back to watch what stars escaped the billowing smoke. Ash sprinkled all around them with little to no commotion. When Anakin stood up to take in the town, it was as if the stars had doubled, lining the main street. People watched from inside their homes, all their lights on as the building burned.

A single car cruised down the street before stopping beside Anakin and Obi-Wan. Only Anakin could stand while he curled into the pain of his injury. The window rolled down as Bail looked out at her.

“I figured you both needed some help,” Bail mentioned.

“How?” whispered Anakin.

“You're both the most troublesome people I know. Now get in!”

Anakin supported Obi-Wan into the car, and Bail sped away. All eyes remained on the burning building. The house lights bouncing along little stone structures that continued to wait to taste a hint of blood at the end of the Lottery.

Chapter 30: Across the Stars

Across the Stars

If Anakin were to narrate her life, she would narrate it a bit like this:

Obi-Wan's unconscious state made it appear that he was lost in a deep slumber, but this is most likely not a story with a happy ending. There was a time when I thought we could all decide on the same resolution, but I was wrong. I watched him lie there, all emergency stitched up, knowing the end for someone was near.

What Obi-Wan and Padmé failed to understand was that Sheev was correct about the need for a sacrifice. So I moved my hand, I took lives, and then I transported those lives to a well at the end of the world where I dropped them, knowing the teeth down deep would devour the dead and let us live.

Famine ended after the first set of sacrifices. People lived better lives. At least, everyone else lived better lives than us because Padmé was afraid to go out into the real world in the aftermath.

Over the years, Obi-Wan looked disappointed at me constantly saying, I was his sister. That he loved me.

And none of it was fair because he was not a brother to me but a father. I needed his help. I needed him to listen. When he didn't, I found a different person to help, which he didn't approve and here we are now. . .

“Penny for your thoughts,” Sheev said behind Anakin.

She folded her hands together behind her back as she ever so calmly turned around to ask him, “What about Dooku?”

“What about Dooku?”

“What if you chose him to die instead?”

“Is that what you wish? I thought the plan was to rid you of Obi-Wan once and for all. He is the one coming between you and Padmé.”

“I still love him.”

“Understood.” Sheev cleared his throat. “I can try, but your actions will have a great effect on the events of the Lottery.”

Even as they spoke, people crowded those charred remains, listening and sighing in relief whenever their names were called.

“I believe in you,” replied Anakin.

Sheev left her alone to return to her thoughts about Obi-Wan. She gradually turned back around to observe him simply lying there, unconscious. Except a shade shifted in his room, causing Anakin to wish she knew how to combat a ghost. Her muscles tensed only to realize Padmé stood to her feet, rising out of the room’s inky darkness.

“Anakin. . .”

Something feral unspooled inside Anakin’s chest. It had to be the dragon inside her, tense, ready for action that might occur, but Padmé. . .except then again, why was she here inside Obi-Wan’s room, lurking in the shadows? They had guests downstairs in the kitchen waiting for attention.

Anakin ground her teeth together, feeling her bones ready to crack. The two stood as if they were at an impasse, mirroring her and Obi-Wan from the night before. However, night felt eternal with the current storm. It rained down on the sins of the town as they freed one person after another from their anxiety as the Lottery occurred. A fury of questions dissolved inside Anakin’s mind, destroying all functioning parts until she only heard the words that would demand the reason to why Padmé had been inside there all along.

“Can I ask you a question, Anakin?” Padmé moved so her toes touched Anakin’s.

They were close enough to breathe each other's souls in.

"I poisoned the Council," Anakin blurted, thinking that had to be the question. She should've kept her mouth; still her jaw ached from her clenched teeth.

Padmé nodded, lightly touching his shoulder. “I know."

The whole house quaked with the rain outside. There was no moment of solitary silence here or anywhere as the house bellowed. It was as if the weather insisted all the ghosts come out to play. At least, they couldn’t hear the names uttered down below their hill. Although sometimes, Anakin could swear she heard undecipherable sobs from the participants.

“Anakin. . .” Padmé trailed off.

And Anakin moved ever so slightly for the first time, to release the pressure on her teeth and ask, “Why do you keep saying my name?”

“Because I’m thinking. . .” The way she trailed off again made that fact clear.

“I did it to protect you,” Anakin whispered, the letters vibrating on her teeth.

Padmé nodded before pulling her into a hug. She stood on her toes so she could rest her chin on Anakin’s shoulder. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” Padmé’s embrace tightened for all of three seconds.

It was exact because Anakin counted them. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand. . .the chill of loneliness settled in fast despite the fact that Padmé’s toes touched hers. She reached out, intertwining her fingers with Anakin’s, studying their hands together before looking up.

“We should discuss this more later, but in the meantime, we have guests and we always eat mushroom risotto on the first day of the Lottery.” Padmé's fingers parted as she stepped around Anakin. She paused to look out a far-off window. “Could you check to make sure everything is in place?”

Of course, Anakin was never going to refuse, yet there was something stunning about the way Padmé looked back, over her shoulder with a grand smile. Her curls flowed all around her as they stood entwined together despite the literal space between them.

“I’m scared, Anakin. . .I have a bad feeling about tonight, and I think. . .”

“Wait. . .Padmé.” It was embarrassing how much her voice cracked, and she wanted to say she was about to go outside to protect them, but she forgot to weave another mantra back into their lives for protection. “Tonight my winged horse is coming, and I am carrying you off to the moon, and on the moon we will eat rose petals.”

Padmé’s smile grew as she stood there hearing out Anakin’s desperate wait. The lightest chuckle danced on her voice. “Ani.” Her nose even wrinkled every so slightly with the charm of distant laughter. She leaned into the wall, still looking back at her. “You do know, some rose petals are poisonous.”

“I mean it, Padmé.” A deadly seriousness graced Anakin’s voice that time around. “When all this is over, I will fly you to the moon.”

“I believe you.”

Anakin shuffled in her one spot, “I’ll start now.”

“I look forward to visiting the moon with you, Ani.”

Anakin hurried past her, ready to dedicate the time before dinner to the little magics all around the property. Considering the bad luck that has stalked them as of late, they will need it. Outside, she realized, Bail’s car was still there, which struck her as a bad omen. One, she didn’t know how to prepare for though she wanted to slash the tires. With no weapon to do so, Anakin pretended it wasn’t present to focus on the how she could truly help protect all of them inside Blackwood Manor.

Chapter 31: Some Rose Petals

Some Rose Petals

Disembodied wails touched Anakin’s ears as she fixed the last of the jewelry she nailed to trees for protection. The town looked ablaze with all its lights on as a black hole crowded the center of where people stood.

Anakin should’ve grabbed a poncho before she went out into the rain. Now she was stuck there, soaking wet, ready to head inside. The downstairs lights were on while Sheev sat in his window, the light on as he watched Anakin. She pretended to steer clear of the twins underneath the cherry blossom tree outside. In the past, she always left small offerings for them on these dark days and would continue to do so.

The kitchen was abuzz until Anakin entered, the door whipping behind her as rain struck the floor. She was still dripping wet, yet thankful for the warmth of the kitchen where Padmé set up a table for them all to sit because they had left the other room to the ghosts of the Council. Already, Bail, Satine, and Obi-Wan sat at the table while Padmé busied herself with preparing the meal until she spotted Anakin.

“Oh, let me grab you a towel.” Padmé grabbed the dish rag, which did little other than to clear Anakin’s vision. “Could you please help Sheev to the table after you change?”

“Of course,” Anakin replied.

In the past, Sheev always joined them for the first half of dinner before allowing Padmé and her to share private time. Her molars crunched together, realizing that this time around, there were too many people present to allow for such a moment. It wouldn’t be until they all went to bed that Anakin could sit and mourn with Padmé. Then again, she practically glowed in the kitchen as she went about making sure everyone was set for the meal. It was unfair that Padmé wanted to share her time with others.

It didn’t take long for Anakin to change upstairs and bring Sheev to the table. One of the other reasons why he provided them some privacy was because he needed to attend to the Lottery. Good thing Bail kept his car there and Anakin didn’t slash the tires because he was available to take Sheev and, hopefully, everyone else away from Blackwood Manor, allowing Padmé to remain with Anakin.

After setting Sheev at the table, Anakin took a look around and went to grab one of their bottles of wine. Thankfully, it was already open because she didn’t want to look for anything else. Instead, she returned, pouring everyone a glass.

Bail lifted his, causing everyone to follow suit. “We should all say what we are thankful for.”

Anakin snorted as she sat down with her glass still raised.

“I’m thankful for Anakin,” Padmé said.

Anakin smiled. “I’m thankful for Padmé.”

“I’m thankful for the child I helped raise,” Bail commented.

Satine turned her legs as she looked to Obi-Wan. “I’m thankful to see you again.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I’m thankful Anakin didn’t let me burn alive last night.” That caused Satine to give him a little annoyed shrug. “I am also thankful to see you again.”

All eyes turned to Sheev. “I’m thankful we are all able to find peace again. It is hard to win and harder to keep.”

With that, they all clinked glasses before taking a few sips as Padmé dolled out some of the food, and it felt as if Anakin crawled back in time to another point in her life. They sat alone for so long together to the point, it started to leave an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth. Maybe she went about everything all wrong.

It wasn’t until she opened her eyes to find herself lying on the floor that she realized she had even fallen unconscious. Across the room lay Sheev, still appearing to be unconscious on the floor, as well. When Anakin rose to her feet, she realized the table was still set with all the lights on. It was as if the presence of everyone else never existed.

The wisp of family and love lingered in empty seats with plates full of food and empty glasses of wine. Rings of red bled into the tablecloth.

Fearful fists banged on the door, tearing Anakin to peel herself away from the table. There was no sign of anyone else in the rooms. Only the house protested the storm yet somehow as she moved, it felt as if she pushed through velvet; the sense of loss was apparent everywhere.

Anakin tossed the door open to find Dooku present with the rest of the people from town. Even the chanting children present, their little so-called rhyme tangoed through all the other anger.
‘Ani,’ said Padmé, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’ The people demanded blood as the adults changed for Padmé to step outside. ‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’ There was no Padmé to step outside.

“We have arrived for your wife,” Dooku mentioned.

Anakin bit down so hard, her lip bled. She glared at the man, wishing she could snip his head off with a set of scissors. At first, she provided no comment as she studied the present faces before her focus fell upon another emptiness just beyond the doors. Bail’s car was gone.

‘Oh no,’ said Ani, ‘You’ll poison me.’

It wasn’t like any of them would believe Anakin if she mentioned the loss of Padmé, so she slammed the door shut before moving into another room to pull furniture in front of the door and backed up. When she whipped around to the kitchen scene, Sheev sat up as he groaned.

“We need to go outside,” Anakin said as the pounding on the door grew more violent.

Rocks shattered a window as people yearned more and more for blood.

Anakin helped Sheev up. “Go hide in some of the bushes out there. I’ll be there soon.”

More rocks splintered the houses as Anakin turned up the steps with Sheev headed outside to safety. Once upstairs, she could look out at the growing crowd of people ready to clamber forward to take Padmé from her home, but there was no Padmé to steal.

When Anakin entered their room, she tripped over the surprise of seeing some floorboards pried up. An empty box sat within the space, and some clothes decorated the floor that weren’t there earlier. Anakin shook her head, not needing any other clues to the fact that Padmé was gone.

She looked out the window, catching sight of Sheev hiding in the bushes, before she threw open their closet, ignoring the emptiness of the present hangers. In the back, she dragged out their supplies for when the electricity went out and turned to the room with matches in her hand. First, she lit the box in the floorboards and stepped back to watch the way new flames curled across to the clothes Padmé left behind.

Her outfits went up in flames, forcing Anakin to continue backing up. The room was soon engulfed in a fire that would annihilate such a cursed place. Anakin considered standing in the middle of the room to let the flames eat her up as well. Sheev could get along just fine without her. She graced the stairs, descending as the fire chased after her, only to find someone else present.

Obi-Wan stood below, looking more spectral than human. He was pale enough, and the way pain distorted his expression, he waited as Anakin planted her feet on the bottom.

“Anakin, leave with me.”

She tilted her head to the side, surprised Obi-Wan delivered an order rather than a plea.

“Right now, walk out that door with me.” Obi-Wan kept a hand over his wounded side. Anakin’s eyes grazed over the way he attempted to avoid pain, knowing if she so chose, she could make him feel more. “Walk out that door without looking back. Padmé is. . .”

“You took Padmé?” Anakin blurted, knowing they both needed to evacuate.

“Anakin, listen to me. . .!”

It was hard with all the shouting outside. More rocks hit the wall and tore through the windows. Even with the explosion of violence with fire as their backdrop, the two stood and stared at one another.

“You can leave this place right now, and you can never look back. You can atone for your past and live a better life with Padmé and the twins.”

“The twins?”

“Luke and Leia have been living with me, Cody, and Bail. Padmé is on her way to see them again.”

“You let Padmé and me believe they died?” Anakin blurted. Moments ago, her voice was so small, but it grew. She was about to thunder forward, grabbing onto any weapon within reach. “You put her through that?”

“She knew.”

Anakin gulped, her breath shuddered as she started to walk around Obi-Wan. The growing heat did not bother her anymore or sting her eyes. She grabbed a stone off the floor, arming herself with the blunt object. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I was, I truly wish I was. It was a mistake, a mistake we all made. Anakin, I saw you. . .!”

“You saw me protecting my family!” Anakin shouted.

“That was no way to protect anyone.”

Maybe the fire frightened people from clambering inside while they chanted for the death of Padmé outside. Meanwhile, Anakin continued to stalk, feeling the feralness of the dragon inside her heart all uncoiled. Earlier, Padmé hardly shuddered when she admitted what she did yet then again, Padmé kept saying: I know.

Anakin stalled, wanting to remember precise detail,s yet couldn’t. She never could. Anxiety stalked all parts of her life, it changed her reality. “I did it to save all of you! I did it to save Padmé!” she protested, fighting more with herself than Obi-Wan. “We were safe! We were safe after!”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Anakin, walk out that door with me. Move on from this.”

But if Anakin left, she couldn’t protect Padmé.

Padmé spent all that time unable to leave, understanding the dangers out there.

Afraid of them.

“You can leave with me and go to Padmé and the twins, please.”

Anakin gravely shook her head, dropping the rock as she backed up toward the kitchen. The house would fall apart at its seams at any moment, and she still wanted it to eat her alive. Then at least, she wouldn’t be acquainted with pain anymore.

“You have no idea what I’ve done.” Her voice cracked again with the floor above as smoke and fire spewed out to their level. She dove out of the way, unable to see if Obi-Wan made it. She pretty much sat there staring at the fiery tongue reaching down to the lower levels.

People outside screamed, no longer chanting as they witnessed the downfall of the house. The longer Anakin sat there, the more she pleaded for death to take her. Padmé and Obi-Wan both lied to her. They stole the twins away, all because she placed poison in the sugar bowl to save their lives.

There was no decent memory to recall because they were all filled with lies.

None of them even knew about all the bodies she dragged out to the well at the end of the world. Sheev said to drop the victims of the Lottery out there to feed the beast that endangered them. But Anakin rose to her feet with danger on all sides and no ability to change the past.

Anakin needed Sheev’s advice.

She sprinted outside to crawl into the bushes beside him to ask, but first, they should wait. She lay there holding her breath beside Sheev as Blackwood Manor burned to the ground. Over time, the townspeople accepted the sacrifice Anakin set out for them. She gulped at her tears, doing her best not to let them escape because if she would most likely need to finish it, finish it by dragging Obi-Wan’s body to the well at the end of the world.

The whole time Anakin nestled out there, she never saw a single person leave the manor.

Chapter 32: Exit Music

Exit Music

“There was nothing you could do to save him,” Sheev admitted while he watched Anakin pick through the manor's bones. Some of the walls continued to stand, but most had collapsed in on themselves. Rain dribbled through whatever openings it could find. “You know what to do, right?”

Anakin hadn’t even found Obi-Wan’s body yet for such a comment. She kicked through charred wood then straightened her back to look over at Sheev.

“Of course,” Anakin replied.

Blackwood Manor smoldered around her in the rain.

Sheev continued, “Padmé will come back.”

“Are you sure?”

“I know so. It’s always worked this way, hasn’t it?” Sheev paused, allowing doubt to pry itself firmly inside Anakin. "Or have you lost faith?"

Anakin nodded more to herself than Sheev. She’d traveled all throughout the area where she last saw Obi-Wan to find it empty. Maybe she imagined the whole event. It was all odd games in her head. She chewed on her lip as she moved past him toward the kitchen to see what she could salvage food-wise for them there.

“Did you know the twins are alive?” Anakin asked. The question even sounded more like a dream than reality after so many years.

“What?” Sheev blurted, his face contorted.

The stove appeared to work, a miracle.

“Obi-Wan told me.” Anakin pulled some food from the fridge. “Padmé knew.”

“What are you talking about?” Sheev scowled at him. “That’s impossible.”

“Why? Do you want them to be dead?” Anakin paused, messing with the stuff in the kitchen. “What do I do if Padmé left me for the twins?”

“She hasn’t before so why would she now?”

It was something that Padmé kept saying that rang in Anakin’s thoughts: I'm afraid Anakin is going somewhere I can never follow. Anakin frowned at their food options because it wasn’t something Padmé would regularly cook for them on such a day. Then again, both her and Sheev stood in the ruins of Blackwood Manor, meaning nothing would ever be regular again. None of the little magics protected them. None of them kept Padmé here. None of them kept the twins here. Instead, Anakin cast a net only to fish up back secrets.

Footsteps splashed toward the fallen manor, forcing Anakin and Sheev to hide, yet Anakin snuck into a spot to keep an eye on what was happening. She hoped it was Obi-Wan rising from the ashes to let her know that he was alright or Padmé returning to her. I’m afraid Anakin is going somewhere I can never follow. Anakin stayed crouched, out of sight, only to see Sabé approach with Cordé and Tonra. It wasn't even a Sabé day ,showing how out of whack the world had become. It'd fallen apart in too many pieces for Anakin to fit back together.

The rain that slithered through the ash smooshed under their feet as they carried food to the memory of the front door. The three set down their offerings.

Only Sabé called out, “Padmé, if you can hear me, we are here to help you.” There was no Padmé to answer her so only the weather filled in the silence. “I promise.”

Anakin leaned forward, almost losing her balance as she studied the three turn away, leaving their offering and disappearing down the hill.

Sheev asked earlier why Padmé would leave now, and the answer seemed clear. It was still about as murky as the smoldering ruins around Anakin, but it was becoming clearer. Padmé stayed for two potential reasons that warped and strangled one another. The hope that Anakin did not kill or the hope that Anakin would become a better person or the hope that she could fix Anakin happen somehow after such a great sin, but also Padmé, was so afraid of the world for so long. So afraid of all the people who turned so fast against her. Who wanted either her blood or the twins blood then wanted her blood again for the deaths of the Council like the townspeople hadn’t gathered together at the suggestion of Sheev to perform a sacrifice.

Gradually, Anakin rose to her feet looking at the offering left outside before she turned to the food she started to prepare. She stood in the kitchen as Sheev came out of hiding, drenched in rain and ash.

Anakin offered him a smile as she paused with the cooking not mentioning the already prepared food. “You should rest while I prepare dinner.”

“You still need to bring an offering to the well if you want Padmé to return,” Sheev mentioned.

“Understood,” Anakin added a little nod for Sheev to understand she meant what she said. “I have all night.”

Sheev drifted away into what was once another room, but walls somewhat shielded them from each other and the rest of the world, which was a good thing because someone else plopped another offering before the door. There were no more children singing about Padmé as they arrived with their parents with such offerings. It was as if the world realized it needed to apologize for something. In reality, they probably needed guidance on how to move forward with the burning remains of Blackwood Manor and an unfinished Lottery.

Anakin dug through the remains, half thinking about Obi-Wan and half thinking about her mother. Once upon a time, her mother told her a story full of warnings on a chilly autumnal night. The chill was only due to the sun falling below the horizon in the desert, and yet Anakin liked to imagine it full of orange and yellow leaves that scraped across other Halloween memories and movies. Her mother told her it was important to check all the candy to make sure nobody slipped razors through the wrapper into the nuggety goodness of a chocolate bar.

Chapter 33: This is Sheev Palpatine

This is Sheev Palpatine

It didn’t take Anakin as long as she thought to prepare dinner and before she updated Sheev, she went out to all the offerings. She stared at pies and casseroles steaming under the cold rain. Each met an end underneath her feet as she stomped around before re-entering the bareen ribs of Blackwood Manor. Inside, she found Sheev, who simply looked like a harmless old man lost among the cinders. He laid out on the wilted remains of the couch, and Anakin almost didn’t want to wake him to let the old man sleep.

However, she did.

“Dinner’s ready.” Anakin decided not to say much as she moved away, forcing Sheev to follow.

Surprisingly, the untouched dining room was best suited for their meal. Anakin set one side of the table with the remains of plates and food while she sat across the table from Sheev. There might as well be miles between them. She set up a few pans to collect what water seeped inside. She even managed to use the library books to plug up some cracks above them. The pages would soak up too much water over time, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t like any of them were ever going back to the library anyway.

“While you were out, I found Obi-Wan,” Anakin commented.

“That is good news,” Sheev replied, digging into his food. He took a bite and coughed through the next few only to pause and look across the table, wincing.

Anakin never touched her food.

Sheev tried to clear his throat, only to cough up some blood. Back when Anakin was preparing the meal, she wasn’t sure what poison to rely on from Padmé’s garden, so she selected what looked unnoticeable along with breaking up razors from the bathroom. By now, she hoped Sheev’s tongue was all sliced up and unable to spit out manipulation. Blood spittled across the table as Sheev hacked away. It painted his lips looking ghastly against his pallid face. All the while, Anakin rose to her feet, studying his eventual demise. Somehow, watching the man somewhat convulse caused the dragon in her chest to do the same. Though the dragon slowly, ever so slowly, released Anakin’s heart while she observed the final death that would ever occur by her hands.

“You are the problem here,” Anakin commented. The dragon continued to unwrap itself, allowing her heart to swell and flutter in whole new ways. While the pain was livid, there was something else burning inside her now. “I understand that you are a liar, but to be safe, as promised, a sacrifice to win my way back.”

If she weren’t so distracted by the fleeing anger inside her, maybe she would’ve thought up better words for such a moment. Long had she dreamt them up. She’d draw them across the ceiling while Padmé slept and insomnia peeled her eyelids back.

Sheev couldn’t cough up a retort.

He was only blood and death now, and Anakin needed to start packing her bags. It was getting to the point where it felt as if she’d always lived here, but there had been a world beyond the walls before an imbalance settled into her mind. The weight pulling her down rolled over, scrapping at the floor as if that would help while choking on blood.

Good, said a thought Anakin didn’t want to say out loud while she watched Sheev die. She hoped he’d choke, but that might be the part of her that Padmé feared. The part she could never follow and Anakin would figure out what little magics she could find to chase away such intrusive thoughts wobbling around her brain. Unable to speak up, Sheev reached out to Anakin as if that would coax her into helping him. She tilted her head to the side, wet hair swishing across her face. Due to the fact that this was taking too long, she knelt beside Sheev, lifting him off the ground, and carried him out of the house. Wet ash threatened to sprain her ankle a few times as she moved along the same trail she always had.

Sheev would fall into the same well as the others, where he'll eventually choke no more.

Chapter 34: Epilogue

Epilogue

This is a story that happened long ago and far away.

It is a story about a girl named Anakin Skywalker, but if she cared about you, then you could call her Ani. She was 22 years old when she killed a person. Her hope was this was her first and last murder. Although for years she lived with a dragon wrapped around her heart, fearing how she slipped up and caused the death of The Council, who manipulated her and her two children. For so many years, she wanted to blame everyone else for her flaws. She wanted it to be Obi-Wan’s fault for how she turned out and she wanted Sheev to be as much at fault. But between her first and final murder, every decision she ever made was, in fact, her own. It was a shadowy truth she’d need to drag along with her hoping to find balance again.

Following her final murder, Anakin sought to find a way to return to her wife, Padmé. The two lived together, once upon a time. The two even lived together after tragedy struck their lives. They lived underneath a suffocating shadow until one day, Padmé left no longer able to determine the blurred boundaries between Anakin’s best and worst. In fairness, Anakin could no longer determine what was good and foul about herself. There was no one else to blame, but herself.

She traveled from the burnt down manor and away from the ever-watchful eyes of town. The people there soaked in their silence as they watched her pass them by. Some even held onto their hot casserole dishes ready to deliver yet another offering to the manor.

Anakin traveled along the long road to one’s apology never quite able to find the correct words. How does one apologize for becoming a collection of their worsts? She became her own dragon and that dragon eventually helped set her free yet death still lingered on her hands. There was a gaping emptiness inside her chest now, too, without her dragon. The invisible wound sapped all her worries and cries together because there was a chance where Padmé would always say no.

And she would try and she would try again until Padmé requested her to stop.

This is the end of one story and the start of another.

The story of Anakin arriving to the location of a treasured memory. A meadow laced with flowers where Padmé sat dressed in pastel yellow as the twins danced around her. All of them wore flower crowns as Obi-Wan, Cody, Satine, and Bail carried a table over to them ready for a picnic.

Anakin stood before a firm boundary set between her and Padmé, hoping she would be allowed to cross it. She waited and waited and waited until Padmé looked up. Her shock drew Obi-Wan’s, Cody’s, Satine’s, and Bail’s attention, along with the twins who sprinted away, straight across the imaginary boundary.

The twins collided into Anakin and swung their arms around her. Their cheerful chorus blurred around Anakin, her wounds weren’t ready to fully accept such joy, yet the hole in her chest savored this moment as she knelt down

The funny thing about stories, whether tragic or full of joy, it doesn’t matter when they happened because they’re always happening. This moment is happening right now as all familiar faces turn to watch Anakin, her feet still firmly planted on the boundary she created despite hugging her children. It wasn’t necessarily their love she needed to win back.

Padmé rose to her feet, saying a single word, “Ani?”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Star Wars but Make it Gothic and Sapphic