The Eternal Emperor

Anakin Skywalker stood alone in his dimly lit chamber within the Jedi Temple, the weight of recent events pressing heavily upon his shoulders. The clandestine journey to Mortis had left him with more questions than answers, and the enigmatic figure of Lelouch lingered in his thoughts, a specter of power and mystery. 

With a weary sigh, Anakin donned his dark cloak, the fabric whispering against his skin as he fastened it securely. The corridors of the Temple were hushed at this hour, the usual bustle of Jedi and Padawans replaced by an almost eerie silence. His footsteps echoed softly against the polished floors as he made his way to the Temple's hangar, where a group of 501st clone troopers stood in disciplined formation beside a waiting LAAT/i gunship. 

As Anakin approached, the troopers snapped to attention, their armor gleaming under the hangar's lights. Captain Rex, his trusted second-in-command, stepped forward and saluted. 

"General Skywalker, sir." 

Anakin returned the salute with a nod, his expression unreadable. 

"At ease, Captain." 

The clones relaxed slightly, though their discipline remained evident. Anakin boarded the gunship, the metallic ramp clanging beneath his boots. The interior was utilitarian, designed for function over comfort, with rows of seats lining the sides and harnesses hanging in readiness. The troopers followed him aboard, taking their positions with practiced efficiency. 

Anakin settled into his seat, the hum of the gunship's engines resonating through the hull as they powered up. He leaned forward, addressing the pilot. 

"Set course for the Senate Apartments Complex." 

"Yes, General." 

The gunship lifted off smoothly, the repulsorlifts generating a subtle vibration that thrummed through Anakin's body. As they ascended into Coruscant's night sky, the cityscape stretched out beneath them, a sprawling tapestry of lights and shadows. The Senate Apartments were not far, and the journey was swift, the gunship weaving through the aerial traffic with practiced ease. 

Upon arrival, the gunship descended onto the designated landing platform adjacent to Senator Padmé Amidala's residence. The platform was illuminated by soft ambient lighting, casting gentle glows that contrasted with the city's vibrant luminescence. Anakin disembarked, his cloak billowing slightly in the downdraft of the engines. 

"Wait here." 

The clones acknowledged his command with a unified "Yes, sir," remaining aboard the gunship as Anakin approached the entrance to Padmé's apartment. The building's architecture was elegant, with smooth curves and ornate designs reflecting Naboo's aesthetic influences. The entrance was guarded by a pair of Senate security droids, their photoreceptors tracking Anakin's approach. 

"Identification, please." 

Anakin produced his credentials, the droids scanning them before granting access. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the opulent interior of Padmé's residence. The air was scented with the faint aroma of exotic flowers, and the décor was a harmonious blend of Nabooian artistry and Coruscanti sophistication. 

As he stepped inside, memories flooded Anakin's mind—moments of shared laughter, whispered confessions, and stolen kisses. This apartment had been their sanctuary, a refuge from the prying eyes of the galaxy. Yet, beneath the surface of these cherished memories, a current of doubt and fear began to flow. 

Anakin's thoughts turned to Lelouch, the enigmatic figure whose teachings had opened his mind to possibilities beyond the Jedi's doctrines. Through Lelouch, Anakin had learned to transcend the mental barriers he had unknowingly imposed upon himself, limitations shaped by the Jedi's rigid adherence to tradition. The realization that the Force could be wielded in ways the Jedi had never conceived was both exhilarating and terrifying. 

But with this newfound understanding came a chilling revelation. If the Force could influence emotions, could it not also manipulate love? Was his deep affection for Padmé genuine, or had it been orchestrated by the Force to serve some grand design? And what of Padmé's feelings for him? Were they her own, or merely the result of the Force's subtle machinations? 

The thought was a dagger to his heart. The love he held most dear, the bond that had sustained him through the darkest of times, now seemed tainted by the possibility of manipulation. Anakin clenched his fists, his breath quickening as he struggled to contain the surge of emotions within him. 

"Anakin?" 

Padmé's voice, soft and filled with concern, pulled him from his tumultuous reverie. She stood before him, her eyes searching his face for answers. 

"Padmé..." 

He took a step toward her, his resolve wavering as he gazed into her eyes. The love he saw there seemed real, palpable, yet the seed of doubt had been planted, and it gnawed at his soul. 

"Is everything alright?" 

Anakin forced a smile, though it did not reach his eyes. 

"Just... tired from the mission." 

Padmé reached out, her hand gently caressing his cheek. 

"You don't have to face everything alone, Anakin." 

Her touch was warm, comforting, yet Anakin couldn't shake the cold. He nodded at her words as he pulled her lightly and guided her to sit with him. 

Anakin and Padmé sat together in the soft glow of her apartment, the city lights of Coruscant painting patterns on the walls. Anakin's expression was troubled, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within. 

"I've been having visions again, Padmé," he began, his voice tinged with apprehension. 

"Visions?" Padmé's brow furrowed with concern. "Like the ones about your mother?" 

Anakin nodded, his gaze dropping to their intertwined hands. "Yes. Just like those." 

"What did you see?" she asked softly, bracing herself for his response. 

"I saw you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "In pain. Dying in childbirth." 

Padmé's breath caught, her free hand instinctively moving to her abdomen. "And... the baby?" 

Anakin shook his head, frustration and fear evident in his eyes. "I don't know." 

She could feel the fear radiating from him, mirroring her own. Forcing a reassuring smile, she squeezed his hand. "It was just a dream, Anakin." 

His grip tightened around hers, his eyes locking onto hers with fierce determination. "I won't let this one become real." 

Padmé's heart swelled with love and fear. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, then stood, guiding him toward the bedroom. "Come. Let's get some rest." 

The night passed in a tangle of whispered reassurances and shared warmth, each finding solace in the other's presence. 

As dawn's first light filtered through the curtains, Padmé stirred, reaching out to Anakin's side of the bed, only to find it empty. She sat up, spotting him near the window, gazing out at the awakening city. 

"Anakin?" she called softly. 

He turned, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Good morning." 

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, wrapping a robe around herself as she approached him. 

"Peacefully," he replied, his eyes softening as they met hers. 

They moved to the small dining area, sharing a simple breakfast. The conversation flowed easily, touching on trivial matters—the latest Senate debates, the ever-present hum of Coruscant's traffic lanes. 

But beneath the surface, Anakin's thoughts churned. Setting down his cup, he took a steadying breath. "Padmé, I've been thinking..." 

"About what?" she prompted, sensing the gravity in his tone. 

"Leaving the Jedi Order," he confessed, his gaze searching hers for a reaction. 

Padmé's eyes widened in surprise. "Anakin, what's happened?" 

He clenched his jaw, the muscles tensing as he grappled with his emotions. "The Council doesn't trust me." 

"Why would you say that?" she asked gently. 

"Because of my ties to the Palpatine family," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "They see me as compromised, unworthy of advancement." 

Padmé reached across the table, her hand covering his. "Anakin, your loyalty and dedication are beyond question." 

"Not to them," he replied bitterly. "And with Ahsoka gone, the Temple feels more like a cage than a sanctuary." 

"What about Obi-Wan?" she asked softly. 

"Obi-Wan will understand," Anakin said, his expression softening at the mention of his former master. "We can still be friends outside the Order." 

"And what will you do if you leave?" Padmé inquired, her eyes searching his. 

He looked at her, a tender smile forming on his lips. "I'll find something... maybe Lelouch can find me a cushy administrative job, hahaha!" Anakin laughed softly at the thought, though... all things considered, Lelouch had hinted that he wanted Anakin to take a leading role within the Empire that would soon rise, so it was not far off to think about such matters. 

Tears welled in Padmé's eyes as she rose from her seat, moving to embrace him. "Anakin, I love you." 

"And I love you, Padmé," he murmured, holding her close. "More than anything in this galaxy." 

 A.N: This is shorter as i began writing a talk Lelouch was having with Tzeentch... and lets justs ay inspiration struck and holy shit it became so long, i wasn't going to finish editing and correcting everything today. Either way... Thank you for your support during 2024, looking forward to 2025 as well. So, my dear readers... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! And a great year to everyone :)