Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just playing. I'll put'em back when I'm done.

Rating: PG

Synopsis: A look back at parents long lost.

She was breathtakingly beautiful. Any man with any sense would fall for her. Any high-ranking diplomat or military officer would be proud to call her his wife. Any prince or king would be certain of his subjects loyalty if he had her by his side. Yet her royal highness, Queen Amidala of Naboo, heir to the throne of the planetary system of Naboo, had found love in a world completely different from the one she had been raised in. Her heart had been taken by a Jedi-in-training. Though he was not, by any means, what Amidala's parents had planned for her, there was no dishonor in marrying a Jedi-to-be. So, naturally, they had not stood in the way of this union. Especially since Amidala herself was being trained to become a Jedi. Her powers were great and her Master had foreseen that she would become a great leader, a great Jedi indeed. So, in any terms, Amidala's future was set ... or was it?


He stood there, staring at her with his deep blue eyes alight by a fire she did not and would not understand. He had always been headstrong, that husband of hers, yet she had always been able to reason with him. Now, however, none of her words made any difference. None of what she said got through to him. Pleading, she took his hands in hers. "Anakin, please. I beseech you. Hear me and understand. You cannot seriously believe anything that Senator Palpatine has told you. Search your heart, my love. Search your heart. This is not the truth. This is not the way," she insisted, hoping that he would hear her now.

Anakin Skywalker heard his wife, yet he did not comprehend her words. It made no sense to him that she could not see the truth in his words. "Amidala, my darling," he said calmly and kissed both her hands. "You know how much I love you. You know that nothing else in this universe matters to me but you. But Senator Palpatine is right. Think of all the things that Obi-Wan has said. Veiled hints that the Jedi plan to overtake the galaxy. They want to rule. And all their actions prove this to be true. We cannot let that happen. They will destroy any resistence, any fight for freedom." He shook his head, unable to fathom that she did not see this. She, who was nothing short of a Seer. She could look into the hearts of people and see their true selves. "I must go now," he added, released one of her hands and grabbed his duffle-bag carelessly dropped on the floor beside him. "Senator Palpatine expects me." His eyes traveled down to the slight bulge of her stomach. "Take care of my son, Amidala. Once I have learned what I need to learn, I will come back for him and you. I will teach him all I know. He will become a great Jedi. He will be a ruler," he said with a smile on his lips, then leaned in to kiss his wife goodbye. "Be well, my love. It will not be long and I will be back again. And remember, I love you. Always." With those words, he broke free of her and left.

Amidala's doe-eyes slid shut as she cupped her hands over her extended belly. "You will not turn my child into what you are becoming, Anakin. I will not allow it," she whispered with a tear-filled voice. "I cannot allow it." She had seen the future in a dream and it was not good.

The thought of that dream spurred her into action. There was only one place she could go. Only one being in all the galaxy who could possibly help her protect her unborn child against his father's treason.


In the shelter of the night, Amidala boarded her sleek yacht, unaccompanied by any of her aides, her mind set, her heart full of tears. Her actions would invoke her husband's wrath. She knew this from her dream. He would search for her to claim his child. But if all went well, and Amidala prayed it did, he would not find his son. Or his daughter. For one detail about her pregnancy she had kept a secret. That she was expecting twins. When she had found out, Anakin had already begun to turn, and Amidala had used all her powers to protect this knowledge by hiding it deep in her mind. She never allowed herself to think of the twin, the little girl she carried inside her, lest her husband find out and threaten to use this child in the service of the Dark Side, also. She could not bear the thought that both her children were at risk. So Amidala fled from Naboo in the depth of the night, sheltered in a yacht which would not be questioned and later not recognized.

Once she had taken the ship to hyperspace, Amidala leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. "No harm will come to you, my darlings," she whispered, a promise made to her unborn children. "You will lead sheltered lives, protected lives. You will never be at risk. Never be the subjects of your father's scrutinizing eyes. I swear it on my life's blood. I swear this on the vastness of the universe. I will not let him get you." And in her mind, she swore another oath, one she would never be able to voice. She would die rather than reveal her children's whereabouts. She would die if that was what it took to protect them. The more she thought about it, the more she upset herself. By the time she reached her destination, she was in tears, frantic to reach her Master, to plead for his help. For surely, he was the only who could help her.


Crashing sounds disturbed the quiet night on Dagobah. Despite all the living things on this world, the night in this area was always quiet. The silence was occasionally broken by a cry of a night bird or another creature, but the cries were hushed, the silence complete after only a few seconds. Now, however, the frantic flight of a young woman stirred the night to life. Mocking cries and hisses filled the air where she moved, following her like ghosts from the past.

Amidala lost her footing and nearly fell, the tears streaming down her face blinding her. She had been here so many times before, knew the route she was taking by heart, yet her upset mind would not let her see. "Master Yoda?" she called, her voice almost drowning in tears. "Master Yoda!"

She ran on, stumbling over roots, her hair getting caught on low-hanging branches, her beautiful face being scratched by protruding thorns. She knew in her heart that this kind of approach to the ancient Jedi Master's home would be frowned on, but once she told him about the terrible thing that had happened, he would forgive her. "Master Yoda," she called again, alerting him to her arrival.

She again lost her footing and this time did not manage to prevent her fall. Her arms braced her inches before her stomach would have collided with the ground beneath her. Sobbing uncontrollably, she knelt on the ground, her hands covering her stomach. "Forgive me, my children. I did not intend to harm you."

"What noise this is, I wonder."

The crackling voice of her Master made her raise tear-filled eyes from her belly. "Master Yoda," she sobbed when she saw his short frame not far from his humble abode.

"Yourself you must calm, child. Not good is this for your child," he told her, slowly walking toward her.

She wiped at her face, trying to remove the traces of the tears, but new kept cruising down her cheeks. "Master Yoda, I need your help so desperately," she said, her eyes swimming. For a moment longer, she managed to keep him in her line of sight, then she passed out. The strain the threat of her husband's impeding turn to the Dark Side had put on her had become too much to bear.

Yoda reached out with the Force, catching her before she could hit the ground and hurt herself and her unborn child. Her limp body rose from the ground and she was carried, on air, to his cottage, where he eased her down on his bed. His huge eyes regarded the unconscious young woman with a sadness he would never show her while she was awake. One of his most promising students, this one, and she had to suffer so greatly. He of course knew why she was here. Her dreams of the future had been his visions of what was to come.


Amidala sat cross-legged on the floor of Yoda's little home, a bowl of her Master's life-giving broth in her hands, and stared sadly at the little creature which held so much power. "You know why I am here, Master Yoda. You know that my children are at risk," she said.

Yoda's ears rose in surprise. "Children?" he cackled, surprised that she had been able to hide this from even him. Without any reluctance, he placed a gnarled hand on her stomach, feeling for the lives inside her. "Twins you expect," he then said, looking up at her with wonder. "Strong twins. Powerful will they be. Dangerous if their father them finds."

New tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded. "I know. That is why I have come to you. Anakin knows only of the boy. He knows nothing of the girl. I hid that truth from him and his anger will be great when he finds out. Oh, Master Yoda, what am I supposed to do?" She put the bowl down and covered her face with her hands, afraid and alone in her knowledge of how bad things were.

Yoda eyed her thoughtfully. "Then find out he must not," he finally said. "The children we will hide from him. Hide you we will, too." He patted her arm in an uncommon display of emotion. "The boy," he added, causing Amidala to drop her hands and watch him in anticipation and dread. "Strong will he be. Stronger, perhaps, than his father." Yoda's eyes closed while he spoke, his senses focused on the children she carried. "The girl. Strong will she be, too. In different areas lies her strength, though. Use her abilities she must. But not as a Jedi. Learn she must to lead."

Amidala saw the truth in his words, but not the path leading them there. "But how? I cannot go back. I can teach her all I know, but... she will never learn to utilize her abilities here. And I don't know where else to go." The despair in her heart prevented her from seeing the future.

"Calm, child," Yoda told her, his eyes opening to gaze into her immediate future. "Call on one of my students I must," he added, turned around and walked away. When he reached the door of the cottage, he glanced back at her. "Stay here you must until the children are born. Then shall we see what to do." With those words, he opened the small door and walked outside.

Amidala nodded at the silence. "Yes," she whispered. "I will stay here until they are born. Then we will see."


The months passed in a flurry. Amidala, a lady by heart and unused to simple conditions, enjoyed her time with her Master nevertheless. Yoda taught her lessons he had not taught a Jedi in eons due to the complexity of the lessons and the ease with which they could fail. But Amidala was a good pupil and learned the art of obscuring herself from others vision as easily as if she were born with the ability. A short time before the birth, she was able to hide herself from Yoda's scrutinizing gaze and her Master was very pleased with her abilities. This, he said, would aide her in an uncertain future where she would have to hide herself from not only her husband, but from her children as well. If it became necessary.

Amidala faded back into view with a startled expression on her face. "Master, I think the little ones are on their way," she said, her hands spread out over her belly.

Yoda nodded his head. "Yes, that they are," he agreed with a weak smile on his lips. "Long has it been since witnessed I have the birth of any child." Rising from his vantage point on a high root, he reached a gnarled hand out to Amidala. "Come, child. Prepare we must. Soon, they will come. And soon, you once again must leave here."

Amidala nodded, saddened by that thought, but also exhilarated by the impending birth of her children. She followed her Master back to his cottage and eased down on the prepared bedding. Caressing her belly, she smiled down at it. "Soon, my little ones. Soon," she whispered.


The birth itself took time. Amidala was exhausted by the time her daughter saw the light of day and she knew that it was Yoda's aide which had allowed her to survive this difficult delivery. The old Jedi Master caressed the furrowed brow of the angrily screaming little girl with one claw, imprinting on her the abilities he had foreseen in her. With a touch, he strengthened both children's need to pursue these abilities, where after he placed them both in their mother's arms. Amidala's smile was as full of joy as it was of sadness. They had discussed what path would be the best to take and had decided that keeping the twins together would be too dangerous. They had to go their separate ways. She kissed first her son's head, then her daughter's and then looked over at her Master. "They are both beautiful. I cannot decided which one to give up," she confessed.

"Then make the decision must I," Yoda countered, not untouched by the young woman's sadness. "Soon, Obi-Wan Kenobi arrives. Take with him he will the boy to his own brother. Raise him as his nephew he will."

Amidala fought the tears which rose in her eyes and looked back down at the tiny boy in her arms. "Very well," she whispered and a single tear broke loose and dripped down on the exposed little head. Blue eyes looked back up at her. "I name you Luke," she whispered and smiled through her tears. "My son. I will always love you and I pray for the day that we will be reunited." Turning her attention to the squirming little girl, she looked into her eyes for a moment. "And you I name Leia. You shall become a great leader, my darling. I will follow you for as long as I can."

Yoda looked up, unfazed by the disturbance at the door. Obi-Wan Kenobi ducked and entered the cottage, his eyes on the new mother and her children. "It is good to see you again, your Highness," he said, smiling in that way of his as he settled down next to her bedding. "Master Yoda," he added, nodding at his aging Master.

Amidala again looked at her son, her eyes filled with sorrow. "Bless you, Obi-Wan, for taking care of him. I do not believe I would leave him in the care of any other," she said and looked up to meet his eyes.

Obi-Wan nodded. "And I shall protect him with all my might. I shall not repeat the same mistake with him as I did with Anakin. I pray that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me," he told her.

Her doe-eyes regarded him calmly. "I have forgiven you, Obi-Wan. But I will never forgive Anakin for turning to the Dark Side. He should have been stronger. He should have seen the fate that lay ahead of him." She let her head sink back on the pillow, too tired to think straight.

"The fault lays nowhere but on my shoulders, Amidala," Obi-Wan said and took both children from her so she could rest. "You must never blame anyone but me for this. I was silly to believe that I could train Anakin as well as Master Yoda. It was vain of me to think so."

"That it was," Yoda agreed. "Change it you cannot," he added.

"But I must at least try. I must at least attempt to change Anakin's mind."

Yoda shook his head and shuffled over to the pot brewing over the fire. "Do!" he said. "Or do not! There is no try. How many times this I must say to you? Learned nothing, have you?" The aging Master stirred the brew for a moment, then glanced back at Obi-Wan, who sat there with his head bowed, the children in his arms. "But try it you must if that is your destiny. And your destiny it is," he finally said, regaining the attention of his pupil. "A great tutor you have been. But finish his training I should have. Not you. And not Palpatine. Nothing but bad comes from this."

Obi-Wan looked over at Yoda, his eyes seeking a truth he already knew but could not accept. "Will the outcome be as grave as the visions say?"

Yoda held his gaze for a moment, then turned back to the pot. "Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future. Know this you do." His eyes shifted to the now sleeping woman. "Take the boy you must. Leave here now. Make it easier on her it will. Tell her where the boy is I will not."

Obi-Wan looked tenderly down at the wife of his lost pupil. She was among the best of Yoda's own pupils and likely to become a powerful Jedi. But if his visions spoke true, the future for this lovely being was indeed bleak. "Be well, Amidala. May the Force be with you. Always," he whispered, wrapped up the little boy after placing the girl beside her mother and rose. "Did she name him?" he asked Yoda.

Yoda nodded. "Luke she named him. Go now," the old Master added, waving Obi-Wan toward the door with his cane.

Obi-Wan looked down at the calm, little boy with the big blue eyes and smiled. "Welcome in our midst, Luke Skywalker," he said. With one last glance at the boy's mother, he hurried from the cottage back to the ship that had brought him and moments later, the whine of the engines announced his departure.

Yoda walked slowly over to Amidala and looked down at both of them. "Better this way it is. See it you will," he said quietly and reached out to place a gnarled hand on Amidala's furrowed brow. Even in sleep she found no peace. "Better for you and for your children it is. Violent times are coming. Times of fear and death for many of our kind. Savor the time with your daughter you must. For long it may not last."

Another vision he would not tell her about. He removed his hand again and walked back to the pot on the fire, afraid for the future. It was as if all the stars in the heavens were slowly winking out and there was nothing anybody could do to stop this disaster. The Jedi, keepers of traditions, protectors of the Galaxy, were about to become nearly extinct. Yoda had foreseen this. In that, the future was not in constant movement. In that, there was no change. A small waver, were Obi-Wan to succeed in his reckless need to redeem himself to the young woman sleeping a few feet behind Yoda. But Yoda himself knew the outcome of that impending battle. Both men would come away alive, yet both would be wounded. One in spirit and one in the flesh. Neither would ever become themselves again.

With a heavy sigh, the ancient Jedi Master settled down on a small stool next to the fire. He had made arrangements with Obi-Wan to send a ship in a few days from the prosperous and impartial system of Alderaan. They would come to pick up their new princess and her mother soon. Yoda could not think of a more befitting place to send these two. There, they would be sheltered until it was time for Amidala to leave her daughter in the capable hands of the Royal Family of Alderaan, to be raised as one of their own. In the end, all would be well. Lives would be lost, yes. Battles, as needless as they were, would be fought. But, on the darkening sky, a new star had been born, one that overshadowed its twin, hiding it in its growing light. And that star would grow stronger as it aged, its light would become brighter until it filled the heavens. And when it had reached its full power, it would spawn new stars and in a foreseeable future, the heavens would again be alight with the shining force of the Jedi.