He was suddenly dreaming something, interrupting the peaceful quiet of his dreamless sleep. He had thought about her, about him, his two most beloved people before he went to sleep…they would both be displeased with him if he was tired in the morning- him during lessons, her during breakfast. The thoughts of his wonderful master and beautiful new bride had comforted him, sent him into a happy state of rest- of nothingness. Now, he felt a stirring of some sort. He was barley coherent within his mind, but he managed to sense the unpleasant feeling of dreaming. He hadn't liked dreaming, not in a long time. Was it…sound? Yes, sound. The music was gradual, but building. (Music?)The music was so ethereally beautiful, so filling, with dropping depths, a soar of violins, horns, and it filled his head as he tangled beneath the sheets. Sweat gleamed down his tan chest, wetting his golden brown curls, dripping over the curves of his cheek bones and lips. Anakin could hear the music, so passionate, so full of life and drama filling his head, he could almost touch it. He felt vaguely un at ease, the music should have been filling him with happiness, it seemed like happy music. ( Not all dreams are unhappy, Anakin.) He felt himself turn, wrapping his arms around something delightfully curved and slender (Her waist) the rich fragrant of floral shampoo filling his head as he buries his head in the tumbling darkness of her curls. Anakin felt the lovely aching music begin to leave his mind, floating away like a ghost. He tried to wake himself up, but his body would not move. Heat coursed over his form, up and down, turning the wetness that covered his body into a cloak, a second skin of slippery heat. Padme's skin felt cooling against his frame, but the sensation of holding her began to demise. He was drifting into a dream again, and he couldn't will himself out of it, couldn't quell the images, voices, sensations. He was suddenly in a dark, cramped room, unable to see well, but he could hear…noises. Unnatural, inhumane noises. Breathing. He blinked, suddenly able to see very well. A good looking young man stood, his dirty blonde hair covering his eyes, a light saber at his side. Looking at the young man, Anakin had the strangest feeling. Did he know this young man? He felt a strong intensity towards him…almost an..attraction. A pull, and he felt very much as if he knew this young man. Anakin watched with wide eyes, as a hideous hulking thing made its way towards the young man. A black machine that moved with unnerving agility, clashing blades with the young man suddenly. and Anakin suddenly hated this enormous black thing, this evil nightmarish thing that bore a red light saber. Things looked so uncomfortably familiar, and he could feel the emotion. Hate, fear…and something else, but it was not coming from the blonde Jedi..it was coming from that thing, that Sith forsaken thing, and he could make out some sort of dialogue, some sort of showdown. He had the strangest feeling something was out of place, and he watched the young man fight until he was on a ledge, on a ledge hanging on for dear life, and that thing began to snarl. Anakin couldn't place why he hated this demonic phantom Sith so much, but the hate was intense. The sound of the Sith's voice was an electronic boom, an eco, an eco which sent chills screaming up and down Anakin's skin, chilling the heat of his blood pounding. His love for this stranger was intoxicating, powerful, dizzying. He frowned, so frightened…It was not his own emotions he was feeling, was it? He heard the young man ( rebel) speak, he could hear the heavy drawl of Tatooine, the young man's soft tones filled with agonized hatred- Anakin moved to try and help, try desperately to stop the Sith's attack, try to save….someone. but he was falling, falling into the arms of( a lover,) of (Obi Wan?) his beautiful wife….
Anakin awoke with a start. He gasped, and found himself staring up at Padme's worried face, her very tight night dress falling about he shoulders lightly. He studied the angles of her jaw, cheekbones, lips and eyes, and felt waves of love threaten to sink him. He didn't want to think about the dream…or why he had been so possessive of the young man. Looking at her quizzical face, he knew she'd want answers. He sighed, and smiled.
"Are you alright, my angel?"
She smoothed his hair, her dark eyes looking far past his electric blue.
'" You had another bad dream, Ani"
He kissed her cheek lovingly, longing to forget.
" When I am with you, Padme, there is no such thing as a bad dream.'
She didn't believe him, but nodded anyway, falling against the pillows, worry for Anakin's happiness on her mind. She finally fell asleep, curled up in her husband's arms.
Anakin only than realized there were tears on his cheeks. Buried in his love's arms, he tried to forget the image of the hulking Sith lord, and the young man.
But he could not.