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We all know the story of the First Fall. Or at least, we know some of it. We know what has been passed down to us, from mouth to mouth; from the few rag-tag survivors of the Great Purges; from the journals of an old hermit on an unimportant desert planet in the Outer Rim.
We know of Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, Padawan of Jedi Knight and Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was one of the last members of the High Jedi Council of old; Sith-killer, Negotiator, General; the last Padawan of the great Qui-Gon Jinn; all members of the line of Grand-Master Yoda.
We know of the betrayal of the Clones; of the loyal men whose minds were used against them, turning them on the very beings to whom they were loyal unlike no other, those who they loved more than they loved themselves.
We know of the rise of the False Emperor, for we lived that life, and felt its Darkness. We know of Darth Vader and the terror he heralded; born as Padme Amidala died.
Later, we learn of how, in the moment the galaxy was at its Darkest, the seeds of its salvation took their first breathes.
We know of the Death Star, and of Luke Skywalker. Of Princess and General Leia Organa, sister of the last and first Jedi and founder of the New Republic. Of Han Solo and Chewbacca. Of the Resistance. Of Bail and Breha Organa, and the loss of Alderaan. Of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s final sacrifice, after a life that took more from him than most beings have to give.
We all know how that story ends.
It ends, at least for some, with the last Jedi of the Old Republic dying at the hands of his former student, Fallen to the Dark. Brother betrays brother, friend betrays friend. Two sides of the same coin, and yet for one to be bathed in the Light, the other is inevitably buried in the shadow.
One will always Fall.
Such is the Will of the Force.
Such is the Balance.
The Second Fall is Anakin’s once again. It happens much the same as the first time around, and yet not at all. It’s earlier, so much earlier, but much like before, no one saw it coming.
Anakin Falls on Tatooine, his mother’s corpse still warm in his arms. The rage and grief burns in him, burns his heart, burns his soul, and he screams.
He kills the Raiders. Every man, every woman, every child. He unleashes his rage on them, before they even know to be afraid.
But they learn.
Death comes quickly for some. Those who try to run are not as lucky.
Dawn comes to Tatooine as a reminder of the events of the night, the planet’s double suns bathing the sand in bloody red glow. The people of Mos Espa are ignorant of the slaughter nevertheless, and by the time they learn, Anakin is gone.
Few of the settlers and riff-raff that call Tatooine home mourn. What do they care, if there is one less Tuskan tribe? All the better for them.
(The other tribes hear of the loss of their kin. They mourn. They fear.)
Anakin flies to Geonosis. Padme is confused, but he does not speak, and ignores the Council’s questions when she passes on Obi-Wan’s transmission. He already knows. He does not need the transmission to know Obi-Wan is in trouble, not anymore. Power flows through his veins and he can feel his Master, even across the stars.
He kills them all, in that arena, before the other Jedi even arrive. He kills the creatures Obi-Wan is valiantly attempting to hold off. He kills Dooku, and reveals in the almost comical expression of shock on the old man’s face, as Anakin’s saber makes a home in his chest. He kills the Geonosians who pack the stands, bathes the stone seats in their blood. And then he laughs, standing in the middle of it all, because he can feel the Universe at his finger-tips. It flows through his veins, wraps around his bones, and it is glorious. He is glorious, and his anger and hate glow brighter than any sun.
Padme and Obi-Wan are staring. He can feel their eyes, feel their horror but he doesn’t care.
He was a slave. He was Jedi. Now he is something else entirely, and Anakin has never felt so free!
He is not Named, this time around. He does not live long enough.
Anakin Skywalker dies in that arena, surrounded by blood, and confusion, and fear, Mace Windu’s vibrant blade pulsing between his ribs.
He does not even see it coming.
The Third time is Obi-Wan’s First. He Falls earliest of all.
He is a child, and he is angry and scared, and as far as he is aware he has just lost everything he has ever known, the only home and family he has ever had. The Man, who was his last hope, his last chance, has forsaken him. Nothing Obi-Wan does has been good enough to warrant even a smile from the tall Master.
He Falls on Bandomeer, kneeling before a man with long, dark hair, and broken circle scar on his pale cheek. Xanatos laughs, when Qui-Gon appears, and see the fire burning in Obi-Wan’s eyes.
Obi-Wan smiles.
“This is your fault, you understand that, don’t you?” Xanatos sneers. He walks in circles around Jinn’s prone form. The fool walked straight into their trap. Even the great Master Jinn is helpless, when shock binders and Force inhibitors come into play.
Jinn stares at Obi-Wan, who stares back, unflinching. He is not ashamed of what he has become. He has a Place. He has the Power to keep that place. That is all he has ever wanted.
(Jinn could have been the one to give him that place. It would have been so easy. But he didn’t.)
It shows on his face, and the betrayal and anger in Jinn’s eyes becomes something else. Shock, realization, horror.
Grief.
Xanatos’ smirk widens.
“There we go. I was wondering when you would catch on.” He pats the man’s cheek. “You were always so smart, weren’t you, Master?”
Qui-Gon flinches, like the touch burns. There is desperation in his eyes now. He still does not speak.
Xanatos throws back his head and laughs. “You were such a fool, Qui-Gon. Look at the potential you threw away.” He gestures, and Obi-Wan moves to his new Master’s side. Xanatos’ hand is warm on his shoulder.
“Such a good apprentice. So much power in this one. He will be strong in the Dark Side.”
Xanatos’ grin takes on a manic edge, as he unhooks Jinn’s lightsaber from the man’s belt with an almost lazy grace, and hands it to Obi-Wan.
“Unfortunately, you won’t be around to see it.”
Qui-Gon Jinn’s last sight is of red hair, burning amber eyes, and a flash of green.
(Obi-Wan Kenobi dies ten years later, betrayed by the dark-haired man. The Master goes on to become the Apprentice of another, and the galaxy burns.)
Next, Anakin Falls, again on Mustafar. This time however, he walks away whole, with two lightsabers on his belt.
He picks up his unconscious wife from the landing strip, and carries her onto the ship with the utmost care.
When the Emperor is killed, fifteen years later, few in the galaxy are surprised. Even fewer mourn.
They all fear.
Lord Vader rules with two shadows at his side; his heirs, and most deadly assassins.
The boy is always smiling. The wider the smile, the more you ought to fear.
But it is the girl who makes the galaxy truly tremble, for she is merciless, and rejoices in the Dark, drawing strength from every breath she takes, wrapped in its shadows. Smugglers and pirates whisper into their cups, in run down cantinas in the far outer reaches of the ever expanding Empire, that it is said, by time you hear her breathing, it is already far too late.
When Vader dies, the twins rule together, undisputed. The Empress takes a consort, and eventually gives birth to a child, a new heir.
(There are whispers that perhaps the consort is just there for show. “Trying to keep the bloodline pure,” they say, glancing over their shoulders, voices barely more than a whisper on the wind, “To keep it strong.”)
Their reign is the longest the galaxy has seen in over a thousand years.
The second time Obi-Wan Falls is, in many ways, similar to Anakin’s, although he doesn’t know it. Qui-Gon Jinn is dying in his arms, and refuses his Padawan’s attempts at healing. He whispers shaky words about the Chosen One, and then the life leaves him, and Obi-Wan is alone.
Like Anakin, Obi-Wan screams, and the chamber echoes with his pain. Far above, the triumphant Naboo stop their celebrating, and stare wide-eyed at one another as the echoes reach them. They do not know what has happened. They do not know what is to come. But they know there is Something, and it is far from good.
Obi-Wan holds the body of the man he loves, and screams and screams, until his voice gives out and then, silently, he swears he will have his vengeance.
He will have blood.
By the time the Jedi Council arrives, Obi-Wan is gone, and so is the body of Qui-Gon Jinn. The moment their ship enters Naboo’s atmosphere, Yoda can feel it. The ancient Master’s eyes go wide, and his shock is so great that the other Council members feel it like a punch in the gut. Then the troll’s ears droop, and he closes his eyes, leaning on his stick more heavily than he had been, only moments before.
“Master?” Mace Windu asks, concern bleeding into his tone as he kneels down next to the eldest of their number.
“Too late, we are,” Yoda whispers, and there is a grief in his voice unlike anything Mace has heard before. “Too late.”
There is a funeral for Master Jinn, even though they have no body to burn. As the flames light up the night sky, Mace Windu takes Anakin Skywalker as his Padawan.
He trains him well. Anakin is a fast learner, once they figure out how to accommodate his unorthodox upbringing. It does not take long for Mace to love the child, just as he had all his other Padawans.
And then, one day, the Republic erupts into chaos, when Supreme Chancellor’s head is found sitting his desk. In front of it sits a green-bladed lightsaber that was never recovered, after the Battle of Naboo.
(The body is found, three days later, in a dumpster.)
The next time Obi-Wan Falls, he is sixteen years old and on New Apsolon, and it is not so much Fall, as it is a Following.
After all, a Padawan should always follow his Master, and he has always been nothing, if not a loyal Padawan.
Anakin is never found by the Jedi. Anakin never leaves Tatooine. Anakin grows up a slave, surrounded by things no child should have to see or experience.
Slowly, his innocence and Light is stripped from him, day by day, month by month, year by year. He becomes bitter and angry. He hates with ease.
It is not hard for Sidious to find him, strong as he is in the Force. It is even less of a challenge to push him over the edge he has been dancing on for years. A few credits in the right hands and a few words whispered in the right ears, and Anakin returns from Mos Eisley one evening to find the entire slave quarter, and all its inhabitants, has burned to the ground. There are no survivors.
Chancellor Palpatine just happens to be in the right place at the right time, to comfort the poor boy, and mention that he has heard rumors of Jabba the Hutt sending out gangs, with orders to do whatever they deemed necessary, in order to scare local business owners into paying off their debts.
Jabba’s palace in in flames come morning.
By the time Obi-Wan falls, during the war, he is no stranger to despair.
But this. This is too much. This is a mirror image of that day on Naboo, so many years ago, and in this moment Qui-Gon Jinn is dying in his arms once again, at the hands of the red Zabrak, Maul.
And now Satine is dead, and the Sith bastard is laughing, and it is no longer despair bubbling up in Obi-Wan’s chest, but white hot, all consuming rage.
He kills Maul and Savage. It is easy. Then he kills the rest of the Death Watch, just because he can.
Obi-Wan is standing in the middle of the throne room, holding Maul’s severed head up by his horns, taunting the dead beast, when Sidious arrives.
Fighting him feels good, especially when Obi-Wan learns that this is the one responsible for everything! For Qui-Gon, for the war, for every bright life Obi-Wan has felt go out over the past three years. For Adi Gallia. For all the lives taken by Dooku, and Ventress, and Grievous, and their droids. For Satine.
He fights like something savage, and yet his skill is undiminished. He pours his rage into every blow, his eyes burning like acid, his teeth bared.
It is not enough.
The coin flips.
The story shifts.
The Force continues to flow.
One in Light. One in Darkness.
This is how it must always be, for one cannot exist without the other.
There will always be an Obi-Wan Kenobi, and there will always be an Anakin Skywalker. There will always be a Jedi. There will always be a Sith.
Thus is Will of the Force.