Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of that wonderful universe contained therein. Nor do I own the dialogue in this story; it was taken directly from Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith., therefore it belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilm.

The hard, unreal world has become fantasy in the back of the mind, leaving a desperate, lingering hope that it will forever stay locked away, like a reoccurring nightmare pushed back into a dark corner. In its place, time is defied and I nearly convince myself that everything can go back to the way it was, a place where I will never again have to listen to the horrors of the war or bear the pain of an anguished parting, never have to stay strong and silent when every one of my senses is screaming that it is all wrong. It isn't supposed to be like this; we knew then that war was inevitable, that once we committed ourselves there would be no turning back halfway down the road, but had I honestly envisioned weeks, even months, during which I could have no idea whether Anakin is dead or alive or taken prisoner? Each day come more rumors, whisperings of massacres on the Outer Rim systems and ships destroyed halfway to their destinations. Even the Jedi are being killed, overwhelmed by the armies of the Separatists, and the Supreme Chancellor appears to be steadily gaining more power. I had trusted him, once, what seemed like a very long time ago, but now I'm not so sure.

I think it is the lava that finally jerks me back to cold, uncaring reality. As I stare out the viewport at the crimson haze hanging heavily on the shimmering air, a hot wave of confusion washes throughout my body and I rest my forehead on my trembling hand, my breathing coming in short, shaking spurts. What is this place, this distant Mustafar, where everything is red and angry? The sun is almost obscured by great billowing clouds of heat, ash, and smoke piling up into the atmosphere. Flickering orange light from the reflection of the molten lava dances on the dark metal landing platform. The very aura of the place frightens me, and as my eyes fix on the area outside, I find myself wondering again why he has come here, and if he had even told me the truth.

The truth. How can I know what to trust in anymore, after Obi-Wan came in and said… said those things. I don't want to believe it — I can't believe it — but as I had looked up, a plea on my lips, I had seen something in his eyes, a sorrow that had not been there the last time we had met. Obi-Wan has never lied to me, but is it right to put trust in him above trust in my own husband? I know that Anakin sometimes holds back, especially when he is worried or upset, but somehow I can't see him refusing to tell me, even lying, about what is happening. Not Anakin. Not the young Jedi who had assured me that everything was all right, who had taken me so lovingly into his arms. Yet then I remember that sorrowful, almost haunted look on Obi-Wan's face, the hesitation of a man forced to sentence someone like a brother to him, and I find a small part of my unwillingness giving in…

A flicker of movement near the edge of my vision breaks into my thoughts. Looking up, I see a tall, black-cloaked figure at the top of a control spire moving down towards the ship and I feel my breath catch in my throat. It's Anakin.

Rising quickly from my seat at the control panel, I turn and make my way to the exit ramp, leaving C-3PO behind in the cockpit. From my position in the entrance, I see Anakin moving swiftly across the landing pad, his long strides overtaking the distance effortlessly. A rush of longing envelops my senses, causing me to nearly run down the lowered ramp as I dash across and into his arms. Feeling his warm, strong embrace encircling me, drawing me closer, I rest my head against his chest and momentarily close my eyes, never wanting to let go. Then, for the briefest of seconds, I can feel how it used to be, with no war and no worries, nothing but the radiance of our love. A longing, a dream, I realize bitterly.

Anakin releases his hold slightly. "I saw your ship," he murmurs quietly above me. "What are you doing out here?"

I back a little ways away so as to get a better look at his face. "I was so worried about you," I admit breathlessly, my gaze anxiously scanning the features I have come to know so well. I don't like what I see. It is almost as though I am looking at a different Anakin; his expression seems harder, angrier than usual and his eyes are red-rimmed as though he hasn't slept in days. And there is something else… something I can't quite place. The love is still there, though, I know it. "Obi-Wan — told me terrible things." I notice my voice has dropped to frightened whisper.

"What things?" he asks sharply, his eyes following me intently.

"He said —" I am not looking at him, my words hesitating as I try to tell him my thoughts, my fears that Obi-Wan might have been saying the truth. How can I accuse him like this, speaking those unbelievable, unthinkable phrases? "— you turned to the dark side — that you — killed younglings —"

Anakin's expression softens a little and a half-smile appears on his face. For some reason, that smile does nothing to allay my fears. "Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me," he says with a little turn of his lips, as though that one sentence is capable of explaining everything. But how can he say that about Obi-Wan, his friend, his mentor who has been both a father and brother to him for over ten years? Uncomprehending, I shake my head.

"He cares about us…"

"Us?" This time I catch the hostility in his whispered query.

Somewhat tentatively, I nod. "He knows. He wants to help you." Obi-Wan had finally realized, after three years, what was going on and who the real father of my baby is. But he had not seemed angry; I could tell he wanted to help us make it through the difficulties of the situation. But now Anakin seems so reluctant, so averse to accepting Obi-Wan's help, and I can't understand why in the galaxy he is acting like this. Looking away, he doesn't answer me, but merely stares down at the hot metal surface beneath his boots. I can tell he is thinking, trying to come to a decision about something. About what the right path is? About whether the right way is to stay with the Republic, turning his back on both Obi-Wan and the Jedi?

Still he refrains from answering. In an unspoken plea to help, I place my hand gently on his arm, assuring him I am still there for him. "Anakin," I say imploringly, "all I want is your love."

"Love won't save you, Padmé!" he bursts out bitterly, as though angry that I can't understand why he is doing what he is. "Only my new powers can do that!"

"But at what cost?" I counter pleadingly with a small, unwilling break in my voice. Why, why won't he listen to me? He is acting almost blind to what he is doing, the suffering he is causing; not just me and Obi-Wan, but all the people who care about him — the Jedi most of all. I shake my head again, swallowing hard. "You're a good person — don't do this!" …But my words seem to fall on deaf ears.

Anakin glances back at me, an adamant expression of resolve on his face. "I won't lose you the way I lost my mother." His hushed promise reminds me that he has grown since we first met, even since that time on Tatooine when he had been unable to save the one he cared for most. It is uncanny, somehow. Then, he had been angry and shouting, demanding answers. And now he is so calm and composed, so quietly firm about his decision. "I have become more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of," he continues, "and I'm doing it for you. To protect you."

Feeling myself shaking ever so faintly, I raise one hand to smooth the curls at the back of his neck, the way I used to when we were alone. I search frantically for something to say, anything to prevent that irrational light in his eyes. "Come away with me," I entreat him, my desperation growing and my tone rising louder. "Help me raise our child, leave everything else behind while we still can —"

"Don't you see?" he interrupts my appeal, as though it is irrelevant. "We don't have to run away any more."

But why, why is he blinding himself to what he is doing, ignoring my pleas to help him? He had never been like this; he would always talk to me. Unless… I try not to think about it, but the thought intrudes upon my consciousness like a spotlight, searching, probing. Had Obi-Wan told me the truth? And has Anakin, my Ani, turned and embraced the dark side?

A hollow smile contorts his face. "I have brought peace to the Republic." Peace? This is his idea of peace? "I am more powerful than the Chancellor — I can overthrow him. And together," he continues, his expression distant as he envisions his dream, a seeming empire under his command, "you and I can rule the galaxy! Make things the way we want them to be!"

Numbed and unbelieving, I slowly back away from the man who had sworn to love and protect me that day after we returned from Geonosis. How had it come to this? Unshed tears gather in my eyes, but I hardly notice them as a shake my head unwillingly. "I don't believe what I'm hearing," I whisper in terrified disbelief. My whole body is shaking now, trembling with frightened shivers. "Obi-Wan was right. You've changed!"

"I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan," he answers sharply, pacing restlessly in front of me. He raises his voice until he is almost shouting. "The Jedi turned against me — don't you turn against me!"

I draw further away, my breathing coming in short gasps, aching pain spreading in my chest. My face feels hot and flushed, both from the heat and my own emotions. I feel the tears slowly dripping from my bewildered eyes, coursing down my cheeks in steady streams, and with each pearl of moisture I feel as though a memory and a part of his love are escaping my soul forever. I finally realize what I should have seen from the start, what Obi-Wan had attempted to tell me. Anakin had lied. There had not been a rebellion at the Jedi Temple; no, he had merely swept in there with troops of clones at his back and massacred every one of them. They had had no warning, no intimation of what was going to happen.

They had been murdered.

Knights, Masters, younglings….

All destroyed at the hands of the man standing in front of me.

I don't know whether I want to scream at Anakin for his folly or throw myself into his embrace again, hoping the power of our love will resolve everything. Yet even my love knows that there is no turning back now. Nothing can change what has already happened. And I might be the only one capable of bringing him back.

"I don't know you anymore!" I sob brokenly, lost and without comfort. "Anakin — you're breaking my heart — you're going down a path I can't follow —"

"Because of Obi-Wan," comes the emotionless reply, a hollow voice I never would have recognized as his had I not known it was he looking down at me with an expression I had never seen before.

"Because of what you've done! What you plan to do —" My breath feels stifled and the pain in my chest is growing, welling up in my throat as I struggle to get the words out. Please! every particle of my being is crying. "Stop!" I beg him desperately, "stop now, come back! I love you…" He is turning away from me. Even as I stretch out my hand to bring him back….

"LIAR!"

It hits me as though I have been struck. I feel suddenly weak, unable to go on. This one word, this one accusation, twists agonizingly deep inside of me as though Anakin himself seeks to penetrate my heart with the searing blade of his lightsaber.

"You're with him! You brought him here to kill me!" Anakin circles me slowly, deliberately, like some wild species stalking its prey as he watches me flounder helplessly.

Hurt and confused, my mind spinning in a turmoil of sorrow, I turn and glance behind me, wondering what could have possibly caused his sudden, unreasonable aggression.

Obi-Wan.

He is standing there on the ramp of the cruiser, silhouetted in the light spilling out from inside the ship. There is a terrible expression of resolve hardening his normally kind face, and suddenly I understand. They mean to kill each other.

My voice falters. "No…!"

But then Anakin thrusts forth his gloved hand, a look of complete and utter hatred distorting the face I have come to know so well, and suddenly I can't breathe. I stumble backwards, my hands clutching desperately at my throat, my fingers brushing the woven cord of the pendant little Ani had presented to me so many years ago… as though through a haze, I hear Obi-Wan's shout of "Let her go, Anakin!", but all I can think is, this is what has become of the bright boy on Tatooine who had called me an angel, then the handsome Jedi who had sworn to do everything in his power to keep me from harm… what has become of the man who had given, and now seemingly taken away, his love.

"Anakin…" I plead one final time, my eyes filled with tears.

His face is unmerciful.

My vision starts to swim, blurring the dark figure towering above me… I can't hear… everything is going dark around me…. Anakin, don't leave me… you promised… I know you're still there… please… I love you….

With a long, shuddering gasp, Padmé slipped limply to the ground at Darth Vader's feet.