Chapter Text
Mustafar was burning.
Now that he thought about it, Obi-Wan Kenobi had never been fond of this place. In the same way, he would never have guessed that this is where he would come to end the life of his disciple.
And yet, fate had not been kind.
Anakin Skywalker - his friend, his student, his brother - had Fallen. His actions testified to this clearly. Even if he could be persuaded to return, there was no future for Anakin. Not the moment he stained his hands with the blood of innocent children.
Now, Anakin stood before him, with his face twisted with anger, yet still full of conviction that he was the one who was right. All around him, the lava was alive with its own life, one step in the wrong direction would be enough for the him to have the opportunity to become more familiar with it.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Obi-Wan spoke up. And for a brief moment he really meant it. Don't jump. After all, you can see that you can't make it. “It’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground.”
He could tell by the boy's eyes that the warning had not reached him. Or even if it did, it was ignored.
And then Anakin jumped.
Of course he jumped. Why would Anakin ever listen to his Master?
Obi-Wan saw it in his mind before it happened. He saw that moment - one decisive move to end this hell. One blow that would defeat Anakin, that would deprive him of his life - or if not, weaken him enough for Obi-Wan to take Padmé away.
Obi-Wan saw that one brief moment when Anakin exposed himself and was exposed to the blow.
A blow that Obi-Wan was unable to deliver.
He could not hurt someone who was his family in this way. A best friend. A brother.
With a heavy heart, the Jedi Master took a step back, thus providing space for Anakin to land. The younger boy looked at his former teacher with disdain. He, too, must have seen the chance Obi-Wan let slip away.
“You'll regret not killing me,” he spoke up, and his voice no longer resembled in any way the Anakin that Obi-Wan knew.
“Perhaps,” the other man admitted to him. “And perhaps I will be able to save you. I don't want to hurt you. Open your eyes, Anakin! Palpatine has deceived you!”
“My Master showed me the truth. He gave me hope. This is the only way I can make things right.”
Does he really believe the nonsense he's talking himself? Obi-Wan wondered.
He was not given much time to think about it. Anakin moved on him, lightsaber clashing with lightsaber. They both knew each other. They had fought against each other and together with each other more times than they could count. The bond between them had long since crossed the boundaries of Padawan and Master.
And that's why the duel between them was so very hard for both of them. Each of them knew the other inside out, knew what to expect from him. They had fought side by side for years, and Obi-Wan used to be almost completely convinced that one day he would die, covering Anakin with his own body. He supposed Anakin had thought the same thing.
Just three days earlier, each would have given his life for the other.
Today, they were enemies.
Obi-Wan stopped counting minutes or seconds. Any moment of inattention could kill him, and the overwhelming smell of sulfur did not help him concentrate. Anakin didn't want to hurt him - no, he was striking to kill. And now that he knew Obi-Wan wouldn't do it, he attacked with even more fierceness and recklessness than usual.
And perhaps that saved Obi-Wan.
Again, it was a matter of moments. A moment of inattention, a wrong move and already Obi-Wan knew where to strike. His lightsaber fell on Anakin's mechanical arm, cutting it off and, in the process, depriving the boy of his weapon, which fell a piece away.
“You...!” began Anakin, but did not finish.
This time Obi-Wan did not hesitate anymore.
He plunged his ‘saber into the boy's body, cutting his legs a second later and forcing him to fall to the ground. Then he sat on top of him too, refusing to let him move. Seeing that the boy was extending the stump of his right arm toward his weapon, Obi-Wan mercilessly forced the tip of the severed prosthesis.
“You will not take that weapon,” Obi-Wan breathed out. “I won't let you.”
“Shut up!” retaliated Anakin, trying to throw him off somehow. The elder Jedi merely pointed his hand at the ‘saber, mute warning that a mere movement would be enough to decapitate Anakin.
“I don't want to kill you, Anakin. You were like a brother to me. You still are.”
“Don't call me that,” the boy hissed, and his eyes, previously blue, now took on a golden hue. “I hate you! May you die the worst possible death!”
“Listen, we can still–”
“I will not listen to the lies of the Jedi!”
Obi-Wan felt his chest being crushed by an invisible weight. He knew his disciple and knew that nothing would reach him, not anymore.
Anakin was lost, and could no longer be saved, and yet he couldn't kill him.
Instead, Obi-Wan levitated a small stone to himself and, so that Anakin wouldn't see it, threw it at the boy's head using the Force.
That was enough. The boy's body went limp. He lost consciousness.
Obi-Wan stood up, deactivated his ‘saber. At the first moment, seeing the blood spilling around the boy's body, he wanted to help him, but refrained. Such a wound would not kill Anakin. And now Padmé had to be taken care of.
Then I'll take him with me. He will have a fair trial.
Obi-Wan rushed to the unconscious woman. Fortunately, she was alive – for now. He hastily carried her to the ship they got here. He was already about to return for his former apprentice when something in the Force trembled. The man froze.
Palpatine's men were coming.
There was no time.
If he went back for Anakin, they would be caught, and then the Jedi would not stand the slightest chance.
Obi-Wan cursed his own weakness and sat down at the controls of the ship, leaving Anakin on Mustafar, and hating himself for it more than he thought was possible.
Padmé was dying and there was no stopping it.
Padmé should not have been dying, for she had just given birth to two children.
Luke and Leia. These children were the hope of the just-formed Resistance.
And now their mother was dying and Obi-Wan could only watch.
“Don't give up, Padmé,” he whispered, though he couldn't be sure if she could hear him at all.
The woman's breathing grew quieter and quieter. Weaker and weaker.
“Don't give up,” Obi-Wan repeated.
He took the woman's hands in his hands, as if hoping it would help anything.
Here was Anakin Skywalker's vision coming true. The nightmare that had haunted him ever since he found out his wife was pregnant.
“Think of the children, Padmé,” tried Obi-Wan. “Children need a mother.”
And a father.
Padmé let out one heavy sigh, then stopped fighting.
She died.
She stopped breathing, hearing, seeing, feeling. All that remained was this body, inert like that of a doll.
I can't let her die.
Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, trying to sense the woman's soul.
Come back to us, Padmé.
“Luke and Leia need you, Padmé. You are stronger than that. I don't want to believe that a woman like you would just lose the will to live like that when her children are just starting it.”
The medical droid pushed Obi-Wan away, starting CPR and trying to revive the corpse.
Come back, Padmé.
One long minute passed, then another.
They say that after about four minutes of oxygen deprivation, irreversible changes occur in the human brain. The glial cells responsible for memory begin to die. The person may wake up, but it will no longer be the same person, not without his memories. The longer the lack of oxygen, the greater the damage.
Hurry up, Padmé!
“We've got her!” exclaimed the medical droid.
Obi-Wan flinched.
Padmé Amidala Skywalker opened her eyes.
Several hours later, Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes, then immediately closed them. It was so bright, too bright.
“The doctors say you shouldn't get up yet, Lord Vader,” Palpatine's soft voice broke into his thoughts.” Lord Vader, can you hear me?”
He opened his eyes again.
“Yes, Master,” he spoke up, and his voice was dry. “Padmé, where is she? Is she safe? Is she alright?”
His body pulsed with pain. Obi-Wan would pay for the wound he had inflicted on him. For stealing his wife and filling her head with these stupid, idealistic beliefs. For trying to kill him. He will pay for everything.
Palpatine looked at his discipline thoughtfully. Oh, how good it was that he happened to be nearby when the doctors decided to start waking up Vader. Now the boy will think that his Master cares about him. That he is his only ally.
And since he didn't know what happened to Padmé.... Well, the woman would die soon anyway. The body hasn't been found yet, but it's a matter of time. Palpatine will make sure she's dead and once and for all.
“She is dead,” he spoke up. “"It seems, in your anger, you killed her.”
“No!” he recognized from the boy's voice that he believed the lie. How badly must Mustafar have sullied his memory that he believed such a tale? How much did he have to disbelieve in himself and the good in himself? “This is impossible! She was alive! I felt it! I couldn't have done it! Never!”
“But you did it.”
Panic and horror spread around the former Jedi. Grief, fear and so much pain and suffering as the boy realized that he had lost not only his wife, but also his child. And also hatred - for himself, for what he had done; for the Jedi, for not stopping it; for Obi-Wan, for not being there when he needed him.
Lo and behold, right before Palpatine's eyes, Anakin Skywalker's world was falling apart.
And watching it was such an amazing feeling.
Suffer, young apprentice, suffer. Suffer and don't you dare defy me.
There is no one left in this world to whom you can turn but me.
Palpatine stood up, turning away from the bed on which the boy lay.
Everything had gone according to his plan. The world and the galaxy was his. His alone. And nothing and no one would stand in his way anymore.
Palpatine smiled gleefully, ignoring the laments full of sorrow from his apprentice.