Chapter Text
His grandfather’s breathing was shallow and laboured. He hovered over him, wishing to provide succour but realising that only when his grandfather lay once more in the arms of his wife would he be comforted and content.
In the days up to this point his grandfather had passed many objects and persons into his care, divesting himself of earthly ties in order to go to his Maker and Padme, the wife he had mourned for the last eight years.
They had been on campaign together, the Welsh once more proving rebellious, and for the first time he had gone into battle unaccompanied by his grandfather.
Three thousand men he had commanded, cutting off the Welsh – not letting them disappear into the hills and mountains to fight another day. Many persons of importance had been captured. Some he would ransom, some he would imprison indefinitely, some he hoped to cajole into his service.
English archers were excellent, but the Welsh archers were beyond anything England could produce. He had captured Dopheld Mitaka, a prince of the line of Llewelyn. If he could persuade him to give him his loyalty the Welsh would flock to his service and there would be relative peace in the Welsh marches.
He had returned from the field in triumph, to find the malaise which afflicted his grandfather had become chronic.
He had conveyed him according to his wish to Reading, where Padme lay. His heart sinking deeper with every mile covered as his grandfather’s intention sunk in – Anakin Skywalker intended to die at Reading and be interred beside his wife in the abbey there.
The thought choked him. He had lived with his grandparents since he’d been weaned practically. Padme had died when he was eight and then he had resided under Anakin’s sole charge.
He had accompanied his grandfather (since that awful day) on campaign and at whichever residence he held court – sat between his feet on a footstool, listening, observing, being instructed in statecraft and the art of war.
And now those golden days were coming to an end and the next five years, until his majority at age twenty one, would be the most difficult of his life as he endured the regency of his mother and her brother.
His grandfather’s breathing changed and he was instantly at his bedside, looking down at him.
Anakin was awake, eyes bright and colour in his cheeks. He looked at his grandson with lucidity.
“Boy.”
“Yes, grandfather.”
The wasted, pale hand of his grandfather reached out to him, devoid of all rings except one, an ornate gold ring with a baguette cut emerald of great beauty, a gift from Padme to her lover – Anakin Skywalker.
“Boy, are they here?”
“Yes, grandfather. They wait outside.”
Anakin nodded.
“Prop me up, Boy. Fetch me wine.”
“As you wish, beau-sire.”
He motioned to one of the hovering servants to fetch wine and to another to bring more pillows. They hurried to obey.
Banked up against his pillows and refreshed from drinking a long draft of wine, Anakin gave the order that those waiting without were to be admitted.
In came three persons; two teenagers and a young man of twenty.
The twenty year old was Charles de Melbourne, bodyguard to Anakin Skywalker.
The oldest teenager, an eighteen year old, was Dopheld Mitaka, prince of Llewelyn, the younger teenager, a sixteen year old, was Finn Neville, Earl of Warwick.
Anakin regarded them, eyes glittering.
“You know why you’re sent for?”
All three nodded.
He turned his gaze on Charles de Melbourne.
“Chewie, you are the third de Melbourne to serve me. I ask you now, in front of witnesses, will you willingly transfer your allegiance to my grandson and serve him with all loyalty?”
Charles de Melbourne, a giant of a man, as tall and as broad as his master, with a leonine mane of hair, nodded and replied in a deep, rumbling voice:
“Aye, master, I’ll serve the prince in loyalty.”
Anakin nodded with satisfaction and turned his eyes to the Welshman.
“What of you, Mitaka, will you join common cause with my grandson and receive my mercy and my love?”
Mitaka was a short man with the black hair and eyes of his race. His face was round and smooth, cherubic - and deceptive.
He looked an innocent, as though in constant need of mothering. However, rumour had it if you were female and had a pulse, watch yourself. Mother’s drew their daughters close in his vicinity; wise husbands drew their wives and daughters closer – and their mothers.
“I get Pembroke,” he asked, “and all titles and lands due?”
Anakin’s lips drew back in a wolfish smile, teeth clamped together.
“Oh, Mitaka, why didn’t my Padme give me a son such as you?”
“Yes, you will be Prince Dopheld, Earl of Pembroke, and all titles, lands and tithes due, but, Mitaka, when you swear, know this, from that moment you are tied in the bag of life with my grandson. If you fail him or break your vow, I will tear myself from my Padme’s arms and visit such vengeance on you you will cry out for the peace of the grave.”
The atmosphere in the room changed, a sudden icy feel to the air, as if something otherworldly had passed through it and laid a hand against Mitaka’s neck and whispered the truth of what had just been spoken into his ear.
In spite of himself, the Welshman shivered and paused in his speech, but then recovered.
“There are certain men I want released to me.”
Anakin looked at him through hooded eyes.
“If my grandson agrees them and if they are not found to be malignant.”
Mitaka nodded and swallowed hard – Anakin had pronounced the word ‘malignant’ with menace.
“Then I’ll take the oath and serve the prince in loyalty.”
Anakin looked upon him with narrowed eyes for a moment or two and then nodded confirmation.
His eyes turned toward Finn Neville and softened in their expression.
He stretched out his right hand, adorned with the gold and emerald ring.
“Come, youngling, take my hand.”
Finn stepped forward and clasped Anakin’s hand firmly.
“Your grandfather hated me, would have ended me if he could. Said I was a usurper and not fit to kiss the feet of the man who reigned before me, but your father loved me, and I loved him, and it was for his sake I spared your house.”
“Three sons he buried before you came into the world of men, and not expected to live more than a few hours from your mother’s womb. We ought to have known when he named you after that old bastard, your grandfather, you’d confound us all.”
Unable to help himself, Finn grinned at this masterful description of his late grandsire. The old man had protected the late king from infancy, and it was only his absence from court fighting the Scots that had allowed Anakin’s usurpation to succeed. The old man had retreated to his lands and given Anakin nothing but trouble the rest of his days.
“Tell me, young Finn; are you of your father and grandfather’s heart? If you give your word, will you keep it?”
Finn looked at Anakin steadily and spoke just as steadily.
“Yes, sir, I’ll give my word to serve the prince in loyalty. I won’t become the first Neville to break his word once it’s given.”
Anakin sank back on his pillows satisfied.
“Draw closer you four.”
They huddled close to the bed and Anakin lowered his voice.
“I will have the clerks draw up the necessary charters, and a priest will witness the oaths – which will be sworn on relics and the cross.”
“Mitaka and Neville, you must return to the safety of your lands. Chewie, you will remain at the prince’s side. They will try to separate you from him and I give you permission to cut down any man who brings you that word. Do not hesitate. Eventually, they’ll desist.”
“Those two nitwits, my son and daughter, are going to wreck what I have built, but you four must stay your hands until the prince is of age. It won’t be easy to win back power – concentrate on building alliances within the church and parliament meanwhile.”
He sighed.
“Sometime I wonder if my Padme played me false when I look at those two. She didn’t, of course, but sometimes I wonder.”
He trailed off and his eyes closed in sleep.
The four drew back and consulted.
“I’ll stay with grandfather and make arrangements for tomorrow. Grandfather is better after the noon hour.”
The three nodded, each clasping his forearm and bidding him adieu.
He walked over to where Anakin lay, looking upon him with love and affection. How he would miss him.
He reached over and carefully removed two pillows so his grandfather’s head did not loll as he slept. Then he went to see the chief clerk to order the necessary charters to be drawn up.
+++
The oaths were administered on the morrow under Anakin’s eyes, which were clear and sharp as a hawk’s. Only then were the seals of Anakin and the prince brought out and the charters sealed and given to the recipients; sealed copies kept for the royal archive.
Anakin’s seal was then broken and put on the fire so it couldn’t be misused after his death.
Land had been settled on Chewie, land, titles and tithes on Mitaka, and land long coveted by the Neville’s settled on Finn.
Mitaka and Finn approached and kissed Anakin's hand, receiving his blessing, then hurrying off with their households to be deep within the bosom of their affinity before Anakin’s death, which looked to be imminent.
If Leia and/or Luke Skywalker objected to what had been given, they must be prepared to fight to keep it. The precious charters were kept close to their persons.
Anakin looked very tired when all had been done, but he still wanted speech with his grandson even though he was urged to sleep.
“I’ll soon sleep well enough,” was his terse reply.
He gazed at his grandson for a long while before he spoke, the reciprocal love and affection showing in his weary eyes.
At last he spoke.
“I’m sad to leave you, Boy, but my Padme calls me. Tell me I go without reproach.”
“Grandfather, you have been nothing but good to me my whole life and I will mourn and miss you every day, but, grandfather, go in peace.”
“Thank you. You have been my pride and joy all these years. All I wish for you now is your safekeeping and for you to find a good woman to keep you safe, as my Padme did for me.”
“Mayhap you won’t be as fortunate as I, but if you meet The One, and she is of your degree, marry her on the morrow.”
He laughed at his grandfather’s turn of thoughts when there was so much else to think about.
Anakin was holding something out to him – Padme’s ring.
His eyes flew to those of his grandsire.
“Grandfather!”
“Take it. When you find her, give her this; make her your own as Padme did me when she gave me this. You and I, Boy, are of the same heart – we were born to be ruled by a woman.”
A look of dissatisfaction crossed his face.
“She didn’t believe me, you know, that I’d marry her, she being older than I. She took me to her bed and bid me live my life with her in that one night. In the morning she gave me this and bid me adieu.”
He snorted.
“I gave it back to her and then carried her to my horse and then to a priest – in her shift with my cloak around her.”
He laughed, “If you’d seen the priest’s face! She gave it back to me as a wedding ring.”
His face darkened.
“Of course, then the french king had to go cheapen it. What he called her... “
His jaw was working.
“I showed him, if it hadn’t been for divine intervention... “
His voice trailed off and he lay back, exhausted.
“Grandfather, please.”
His grandfather’s fingers squeezed his feebly.
“Take it, Boy, I just need my sword and to be dressed in a simple robe. That’s all I need, and to lie beside my Padme.”
“It shall be as you wish, Pappy.”
Another feeble squeeze to his fingers, “Take these pillows away and give me my sword.”
He called the attendants.
Before they came bustling up, Anakin had one more thing to say.
“You will need a different name - to separate you from those two.”
“I have it Pappy.”
Anakin opened his eyes one last time.
“What is it?”
Kylo Ren.”
“Ky-lo Ren”, Anakin rolled the syllables around his tongue.
“It will suffice.”