Work Text:
“No! Luke you have to—”
Anakin winced as yet another training remote crashed into the wall and broke apart, pieces landing amongst the others. Luke lifted his helmet off his eyes slightly to inspect the damage.
“Sorry, dad. I almost had that one, I swear,” Luke said sheepishly.
“It’s alright, Luke, I know you did.” Anakin gave his son a reassuring smile.
Anakin would have to remember to give Obi-Wan a call to thank him. Training Luke and Leia had become more of a herculean task than Anakin had expected, especially compared to Ahsoka. He didn’t know how Obi-Wan had trained him and still maintained his sanity. Maybe it was because Anakin was doing the work of two Masters, technically, but he was adamant about training them together. It didn’t feel right to split them up and Anakin couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else training them, even someone he knew. That didn’t mean it had been easy, quite the opposite.
At only six, Luke and Leia were already exceptionally gifted, much like Anakin himself had been. He knew when Padmé told him she was pregnant that their child would likely be very strong in the Force, he just hadn’t expected two Force-sensitive children. Anakin still couldn’t believe just how different Luke and Leia were. Luke was so much like Padmé, with her heart, compassion, and glass-half-full optimism. Leia, though, was so much like Anakin. The same wit, drive, and maybe even a bit of his recklessness. He had a particular soft spot for Leia; she was entirely wrapped around his finger if he was being honest. Padmé always playfully chided him about it, as if Luke wasn’t wrapped around hers. There were, of course, parts of each of the twins that mirrored the other parent. Leia’s stubbornness was all Padmé, as was her fearlessness. Luke’s heart for adventure and excitement was completely Anakin. They were the perfect mix of Padmé and him, and looking at them simply made Anakin’s heart melt.
Luke and Leia’s similarities to Anakin did concern him, however. He was vividly aware of the trouble his youthful recklessness got him in—the whirring of his mechanical hand was an ever-present reminder of that—and he didn’t want the same fate to befall his kids. Padmé often reminded him to let the chips fall where they may; both of them knew the dangers of trying to prevent a possible future, but it wasn’t easy. Even six years after he and Padmé helped prevent the fall of the Republic, even six years after The Clone Wars, fear still lived in his heart. He was always worried this could disappear; that his family could disappear. Now, though, Anakin could look at his two amazing children or his beautiful wife and find the peace that could silence the dragon. Never permanently; he would always live with it, but it was enough. This, his family, was all he ever wanted; it was a gift beyond gifts.
“Me next!” Leia said, reaching for Luke’s helmet as his hands flew up to keep it on.
Anakin sensed Luke’s protest in his thoughts and cut it short. “It is her turn, Luke. Besides, you can help with this next one.”
At that, Luke perked up and gave the helmet to his sister.
“Okay Leia,” Anakin continued. “I want you to tell me where Luke is. Find him in the Force; use it as an extra sense.”
“Got it,” Leia said with an adorable look of sheer determination written on her face as she slipped the helmet over her eyes.
“And Luke,” Anakin turned toward his son. “While being quiet , pick any spot in the room and wait.”
Luke tended to be a little giggly whenever Anakin ran this exercise. If it didn’t defeat the entire purpose, Anakin would just let him do it; his children’s laughter made him immensely happy.
“Ready?” Anakin asked from within the Force. He had learned early on that some combination of their strong individual connections to the Force and their connections to each other made it rather simple to communicate from within the Force itself. Shorter sentences were easier, but they were all getting better every day.
“Ready.” The twins answered back.
Anakin watched, and felt, as Leia connected to the swirling cloud of free-flowing Force energy around her as she searched for Luke. He was behind her and a little to the right as he waited with one hand periodically slamming over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Before long, Anakin felt her concentration waver, and the Force filled with uncertainty.
“Leia,” Anakin tried, knowing both from experience and his precognition where this was headed.
She didn’t respond before Anakin felt her disconnect. This exercise had been difficult for her for a while now. Anakin figured it was about trust, both in herself and in the Force. She was more cautious about trusting her feelings over her head—unlike Luke, but very like Anakin. He did not doubt that she would get it; she had already met every previous obstacle head-on. It would just take time and patience, two things Anakin was overflowing with lately.
Leia took off the helmet slowly and let it hang loosely from her hand. Anakin sensed Leia’s emotions form the tidal wave they so often did.
“Hey. Hey. It’s alright. Come here, sweetheart,” Anakin said gently.
He knelt to her level and gestured with his flesh hand to get her to come close. She dropped the helmet and crashed into his open arms, burying her face in his neck. Standing up, he wrapped her in a tight hug and stroked her hair. He felt cool tears against his skin.
“Dad?” Luke asked silently. Anakin heard the questions within it.
“She’s alright. And yes,” Anakin said. He watched as Luke picked up the helmet and activated another training remote. “Be careful,” he added.
Anakin bounced Leia gently as he whispered faint ‘shhs’ and continued to stroke her hair.
She lifted her head off his shoulder, and he wiped a few lingering tears away with his thumb. “Why can’t I do it? I have been working so hard at it, daddy,” she said, voice still a little shaky.
“You will not be perfect at everything, my love. You do not need to be a Master Jedi yet, just Leia. Just my darling Leia.”
“Luke can do it and he hasn’t even been trying as long as me.”
“Sometimes that happens, princess. After all,” he paused. “ You are better at Telepathy, are you not?”
He saw a hint of a smile across her features at the reminder. She sighed, “I just don’t wanna let you down, daddy.”
“Simply not possible. Not in this lifetime or any other.”
“You promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
Standing in the living room, bouncing his daughter gently, Anakin was nine years old again. A similar conversation, almost down to the syllable, had happened between him and Obi-Wan not long after Anakin had become his Padawan.
“What if I let you down?” Anakin had said one clear Coruscanti afternoon.
“That, little one, is not a power you possess.” Obi-Wan had replied.
Anakin knew that Leia’s emotions often felt overwhelming and that she had a tendency to compare her progress to Luke’s, but it wasn’t until now that he realized just how familiar that was. Suddenly, he was no longer his nine-year-old self—he was Obi-Wan. He truly understood, for perhaps the first time, what Obi-Wan had meant all those years ago. He had never once let Obi-Wan down, just as Leia could never let him down.
This was not the first time Anakin had come to an understanding about himself and the past because of his children, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“I love you, princess. So, so, so much,” Anakin said, tightening his hold on each ‘so’.
Leia’s resulting giggles made the Force hum in response. “I love you more.”
After a few moments, a tiny hand started pulling on the bottom of Anakin’s robes. He scooped the boy into the hug with his other arm until he had a twin on each shoulder.
“I love you most, daddy,” Luke said once he was settled.
Anakin thought there was no possible way his heart could get any lighter than this. It was hard to imagine where he could have been if Padmé and Obi-Wan had not reached him in time; if he had let the dark in. He would not have two pieces of his heart cradled in each arm, of that he knew for certain.
As if a reminder to not dwell on the ‘what ifs’, Anakin suddenly sensed the last piece of his heart enter the lower level of the building. Still, to this day, Padmé’s Force presence was the brightest light Anakin had ever seen, rivaled only by his children.
“Hey,” Anakin said, shrugging each shoulder to get their attention. “Close your eyes. Connect to the Force energy around you. Can you feel that?”
Anakin could sense Padmé from the opposite end of the galaxy without effort, but Luke and Leia were only just beginning to hone their senses. They typically could only sense their mother right as she entered the apartment, Luke more often than Leia, but Anakin had a good feeling this time. With the three of them so close, the Force enveloped them completely. With this much around them, he was confident Luke and Leia could sense her from across the galaxy, too.
“Mom!” Luke and Leia said in perfect unison. Anakin’s smile, somehow, became even wider.
The lock clicked a few moments later. Anakin turned, with his twin bundle, and found the sun, his sun, in the doorway.
“Well, if it isn’t my three favorite people,” Padmé said, her smile brightening the entire room.
Anakin quickly put Luke and Leia down so they could wrap Padmé in one of their infamous twin hugs—one twin on each side, wrapping firmly around her waist, making it almost impossible to move.
Anakin joined them, using his flesh hand to tip Padmé’s chin up for a kiss. He had been wrong before—his heart could get lighter.
“Ew, gross. Mom and dad are kissing,” Anakin heard Luke say from below.
The twins scrambled out of the hug and ran back into the living room.
“Clean up, maybe? Before your mother sees,” Anakin said. It was more than he usually said, especially to Luke, but the Force was still humming from the connection.
“Luke broke most of them.”
“Did not!”
Anakin laughed. He had never dreamed there was this much happiness in the universe. He gathered his wife into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder.
“Have I said thank you recently?” Anakin asked once he pulled away, arms still around her.
“For what?” Her head cocked to the side.
“For this,” he said, looking around the apartment. “For them. For this extraordinary life you have gifted me.”
Faint pink rose to her cheeks, and she looked down. “You do not need to thank me, Anakin.”
“Yes, I do. I almost lost this, them, you. It was because of your faith in me, unshakeable, unmovable, that I am even here at all. I owe you everything.”
“Your love for me, for us, is why I had, have, faith in you. You should be thanking yourself.”
Anakin smiled. She always did have a way of reminding him to give himself credit and grace.
“Call it a tie?” he offered.
“Deal.”
With the sound of their children in the other room, Anakin leaned down for another kiss. Their lips met, and the universe became, once again, perfect.