Sorry for the long wait; this chapter was seriously messy and was a pain to clean up. There will be 3 more chapters when I wake up because I took too long to post this one. Apologies, you have me to blame, but tomorrow (When I wake up, I don't know what time that is for y'all) you shall receive 3 chapters cause I received 3 reviews. congrats.
Also, if things seem weird with dioulouge its because the AI system was a fuck ass and generated all of Qui-Gon's dialogue as "Yes," seriously annoying.
...
The Temple was quiet at that hour.
Not silent—never silent—but subdued. The hum of distant traffic from Coruscant's endless skyline bled faintly through the transparisteel, muted by altitude. The great spires of the Jedi Temple cut through the night like pale sentinels, watching a galaxy that had just fallen into war.
Grand Master Yoda stood alone in one of the highest meditation chambers.
His eyes were closed.
He did not reach into the Force.
He listened.
Geonosis still echoed there.
Red stone. Lightning. Rage.
And a face.
Footsteps approached outside the chamber—measured, familiar.
"Enter," Yoda said softly.
The doors parted.
Qui-Gon Jinn stepped inside.
His prosthetic arm reflected the ambient light faintly as he folded his hands into his sleeves. He looked more tired than he had in years—but not shaken.
Yoda did not turn immediately.
"War, begun it has," Yoda murmured.
"Indeed," Qui-Gon replied. "And not by accident."
A pause lingered.
Yoda opened his eyes.
"Much, I have sensed," he said quietly. "Much, I have seen."
Qui-Gon did not pretend ignorance.
"You wish to speak of Anakin."
Yoda turned now, his gaze steady and piercing.
"In the hangar on Geonosis," Yoda said slowly, "surround him, the dark side not merely do."
He let the sentence hang.
"Answered him, it did."
Qui-Gon held his ground.
"I felt it. Across Geonosis, many Jedi felt it. They had assumed it was Dooku."
Yoda studied him.
"You knew."
"I knew," Qui-Gon confirmed.
Silence settled between them.
Not hostile.
But heavy.
Yoda moved slowly toward one of the chamber's open archways, looking out over the city lights.
"Long ago," Yoda said, "we spoke of the boy's destiny."
"We did."
"Strong in the Force, he is. But what I felt…" Yoda's ears lowered slightly. "Ancient."
Qui-Gon stepped beside him.
"There are truths the Council would not handle well," he said quietly.
Yoda's gaze flicked toward him.
"Tell me."
It was not a request.
Qui-Gon exhaled once.
"Anakin was born to a Sith Pureblood mother. No father was ever known or seen. He was conceived by the force itself, and the force conceived him closer to the dark side than any alive today."
The word did not echo in the chamber—but it changed the air.
Yoda did not flinch.
"Meaning," he said.
"He is the last Sith Pureblood."
Now Yoda's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Extinct, that species was thought."
"So was the Sith Order," Qui-Gon replied evenly.
He continued.
"His bloodline traces back to ancient Sith nobility. His Grandmother was a Sith Pureblood who married a Mandalorian noble. By all accounts, that alone would change the thought of him and his mother being pureblood, yet the force altered their fates. His blood is that of a Sith. Small traces of Mandalorian on his Grandfathers side, but it was as if the force purged the very DNA from his system."
Yoda listened without interruption.
"He holds inheritance to two of the most powerful and influential bloodlines of the Sith Empire. He's shown me documents, data pads, of his birthright; entire systems belong to him. Dromund Kaas, Korriban, Mandalore itself."
Qui Gon took a deep breath.
"He carries inheritance beyond politics," Qui-Gon went on. "Beyond ideology. It is in his biology. In his instincts."
Yoda folded his hands.
"Pride, this will lead to," Yoda said
Qui gon nodded
"It will."
"Blossom into Anger this will."
"He knows how to control it." Qui Gon interjected
"Grief, this will bring."
Yoda's gaze sharpened.
"And you believe you can guide this?" Yoda Asked
Qui gon nodded
"I believe I must."
The words were simple.
Unshaken.
Yoda studied him for a long time.
"On Geonosis," Yoda said quietly, "when he removed his mask… the Force bent."
Qui-Gon did not deny it.
"The dark side flowed through him like a river," Yoda continued. "But drown in it, he did not."
"No."
"Why?"
Qui-Gon's expression softened slightly.
"Because he does not seek destruction," he said. "He seeks control."
"Control," Yoda repeated.
"He believes," Qui-Gon continued carefully, "that the galaxy is broken. Corrupt. Rotting from within."
Yoda's ears twitched.
"Dooku, he shares Strong sentiments with"
Qui-Gon did not answer immediately.
"He does." Qui Gon hesitated."But there is something guiding Anakin that Dooku doesnt have."
Yoda raised an eyebrow
"Me"
Qui gon continued
"I wasn't there when Dooku needed me, but this time ill be there for Anakin.
"He believes strength is the only thing that can mend it," Qui-Gon added. "And that he was born to wield that strength."
Yoda turned fully toward him now.
"His destiny, you believe, Dark side it will lead to."
"Yes."
"And yet you stand here."
"Yes."
Yoda's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You do not intend to sever him from the dark side."
"No." Qui Gon's answer was sharp.
"Why?"
"Because it cannot be severed."
The answer was immediate.
"It is not corruption that attached itself to him," Qui-Gon said. "It is not a tumor we can just cut out. It is something we must sculpt.
"Then what do you intend?" Yoda asked quietly.
"To teach him that power does not require tyranny," Qui-Gon replied. "That control does not require cruelty."
"To redirect destiny."
"If not redirect," Qui-Gon said softly, "then mitigate."
Yoda turned away again, gazing over Coruscant's endless lights.
"Chosen One, the prophecy names him."
"I believe so, yes." Qui gon nodded
"Balance, he will bring. But to what shall this balance be brought to, the question is."
"Between extremes," he said finally. "Between light that blinds and dark that consumes."
Yoda was silent.
Then:
"Tell the Council, I will not."
Qui-Gon looked at the ageing Grand Master wide-eyed.
"Why?" Qui gon asked.
"Fear would take root," Yoda said. "Division. Distrust. They would see only what he might become."
"They already do," Qui-Gon replied quietly.
Yoda's gaze returned to him.
"No longer your Padawan, he is."
Qui-Gon inclined his head slightly.
The words struck deep.
"A Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker, now stands."
Qui Gon bowed. "Thank you, Master."
"But watched, he must be."
"Always." Qui Gon said.
"Closer than before."
"I will always be there for Anakin; all I ask is that if it is decided that the truth be revealed to the council, I would do so."
Yoda nodded. "Allowed, this shall be."
Yoda studied him carefully.
"If he falls," Yoda said softly, "the galaxy will not survive it."
Qui-Gon's jaw tightened.
"He will not fall."
Yoda did not argue.
But neither did he agree.
Instead, he closed his eyes once more.
"Careful, you must be," he murmured. "For if destiny cannot be turned… it must be survived."
Outside, the city moved on.
Warships lifted from orbit.
Clone legions mobilized.
Separatist fleets gathered.
And somewhere on Naboo, two lovers ignored it all.
///
The lake was still.
Not silent — birds called faintly from the trees lining the water, and a soft breeze stirred the tall grasses along the shore — but still in the way only Naboo could be at dusk.
The sky burned in quiet shades of gold and rose, the last light of the twin suns stretching long across the water. Varykino stood behind them in pale stone elegance, its arches catching the glow.
Anakin stood at the edge of the lakeside platform, hands clasped before him.
He wore no armor.
No robe.
No mask.
For once, there was nothing between him and the world.
His attire was simple, but deliberate — dark formal tunic fitted to his frame, trimmed subtly in Naboo silver. His long hair fell freely over his shoulders, brushed back enough to reveal the red ridges along his brow and cheeks. The fading light made his skin appear almost burnished bronze instead of crimson.
He did not look like a monster.
He did not look like a Sith.
He looked like a man trying very hard to steady his breathing.
Across from him stood Padmé.
She wore Naboo ceremonial white — silk layered and flowing, delicate embroidery tracing patterns of water and stars along the hem. The dress caught the wind softly, framing her in light.
Her curls had been gathered and adorned with small silver clasps shaped like blossoms from the lake gardens.
She was radiant.
Anakin's throat tightened.
Between them stood an elderly Naboo priest — robes of deep blue, embroidered with symbols older than the Republic itself. He held a slender ceremonial staff carved with the crest of Naboo's ancient houses.
Behind them, at a respectful distance, stood their witnesses.
K2-SO stood rigid and tall, arms folded behind his back as if this were a military inspection rather than a wedding.
HK-47 tilted his head faintly, optics flickering.
R2-D2 emitted a soft, curious trill.
C-3PO fidgeted anxiously beside him, golden plating reflecting the sunset.
"Dear Maker," 3PO whispered quietly to R2. "I do hope this is not in violation of any Jedi bylaws."
R2 beeped sharply in what sounded like exasperation.
The priest began to speak.
"Before the waters of Naboo and beneath the open sky, we gather to bind two lives into one path."
His voice was warm, unhurried.
"This union is not merely of affection — but of promise. Not merely of devotion — but of shared destiny."
Anakin's eyes never left Padmé.
The priest turned first to him.
"Anakin Skywalker," he said gently, "you stand here not as Jedi, not as warrior, but as a man."
Anakin swallowed.
"Yes."
The priest smiled faintly.
"Do you give yourself freely? Without deception? Without reservation?"
Anakin's voice was steady — but soft.
"I do."
The priest nodded and turned to Padmé.
"Padmé Naberrie, daughter of Naboo, servant of the Republic, you stand here by choice."
"I do," she said before he even finished.
A small smile tugged at Anakin's lips.
The priest regarded them both.
"Marriage is not the absence of conflict," he said. "It is the decision to face conflict together."
He extended his hands.
"Join them."
Anakin reached for Padmé's hands.
Her fingers slipped into his.
Warm.
Real.
He felt the Force shift slightly — not surge, not darken — but settle. Like something aligning.
The priest lowered his voice.
"You have walked through war. Through grief. Through fire."
His eyes flicked briefly to Anakin's faintly scarred chest beneath the tunic, then to the barely healed marks along Padmé's back hidden by silk.
"You do not enter this union naïve."
Anakin's thumb brushed the inside of her wrist.
"I will not promise you peace," he said quietly, before the priest could continue.
Padmé's breath caught.
"I cannot promise that the galaxy will not try to tear this from us," he went on. "But I promise you this — you will never stand alone in it."
Padmé blinked rapidly.
The priest gave him a subtle nod to continue.
Anakin exhaled slowly.
"I was born into bloodlines older than the Republic," he said softly. "I was raised among hunters and outlaws. I have walked with Jedi and listened to Sith."
His crimson eyes did not waver.
"But I choose you."
Padmé's lips trembled into a smile.
"Not because you are safe," he added, faint humor in his tone. "You are not."
She let out a small laugh.
"But because you are the only place I have ever felt… still."
The lake wind rustled around them.
Padmé lifted her chin.
"When I was young," she said gently, "I believed duty would be enough. That serving the Republic would fill whatever space my heart required."
Her fingers tightened around his.
"But you have always been there, Annie."
The nickname was soft. Sacred.
"From Tatooine to Coruscant to Geonosis. You have walked beside me in every storm."
She took a slow breath.
"I do not fear your darkness," she said. "I do not fear your power. I fear only a future without you in it."
Anakin's composure cracked — just slightly.
The priest raised the ceremonial staff.
"Then before water and sky," he intoned, "before witness and memory, I bind you."
He wrapped a slender silver thread around their joined hands.
"Two paths."
The thread looped once.
"Now one."
He stepped back.
"You may seal your vow."
Anakin didn't hesitate.
He pulled her gently closer.
Their foreheads touched first.
Then their lips.
Slow.
Unhurried.
No war.
No prophecy.
Just two people beneath an open sky.
Behind them, K2 tilted his head.
"How wonderful, I wonder how long until we have to start taking care of little ones." He said sarcastically
HK-47 responded calmly. "Statement: When little Meatbags start running around, I would simply have more opportunities to teach them how to exterminate others."
K2 let out a synthetic sigh, "Of course you would."
R2 chirped brightly.
3PO sniffed.
"Oh, this is quite lovely, actually."
The sun dipped lower.
The lake shimmered.
And for a moment — however brief — the galaxy felt far away.