This story takes place several months after TPM.
That universe doesn't belong to me, and I'm making no money off of this.
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Running. The Jedi knight Obi-Wan Kenobi was running through the dense forest. Anakin was in danger – his Padawan was in grave danger, and Obi-Wan knew that every second was precious. He had to get to Anakin fast… soon. He HAD to. Needed to. He used all of his powers to run faster – all of his strength, the Force – everything. Yet his legs would carry him only so fast. His heart's pounding echoing loudly in his ears, he could hear nothing else through the thunderous flow of his own blood. Only one prevailing thought occupied his mind – save Anakin!
Inhale… exhale… run…
He ignored wet brunches, slapping at his face angrily; he ignored slippery mud under his feet, trying to trip him. He almost fell once, but his Jedi reflexes helped him keep his balance. Obstinate grass was clinging to his boots ravenously, slowing him down. He didn't care. His clothes were covered with huge dirty stains. He didn't care. Sweat covered his face, his whole body, ate away at his eyes, stinging them, blurring his vision. He ignored it too.
He – must – run.
A branch caught on his sleeve, pulling him back sharply. He almost growled in irritation. He wouldn't stop. Not for anything in the universe, certainly, not because of a branch. Without a second thought he shed his warm brown cloak, leaving the branch its desired gain. Cold wind immediately enveloped him in a piercing embrace of harsh soggy air, but he paid it no heed. He ran.
Only once in his life had he run like this – on that fateful, ominous, horrible day in Theed. That feverish running. Fuzzy thoughts. Aching body. Blurry vision. Life and death – death and life… death. He remembered the loud hum of cycling doors, echoing in his ears. Sizzling of a lightsaber, ripping through his Master's chest. White-hot burning pain, shared through the open bond. Opened for the battle – closed forever it had been. Torn to shreds by merciless death. And he had almost shared that death too, almost followed the lead to oblivion, pulled by the powerful tug of the bond that shouldn't have been open at such a moment. An agonized scream that must have been heard all the way to Coruscant resounded in his memory even now. At first, back then, he hadn't understood who had been screaming, but the burning of his tight throat had told him it had been he.
He had been late then – and oh how he regretted it! Will he be late this time too? He couldn't bear the thought. He can't, he will not be late! He sped up, pushing his exhausted body to its limits. Limbs screamed in exertion.
Plop! He felt water under his feet, slipped. Barely catching the nearest tree, breaking few nails, scratching the skin on his palms to blood, he managed to pull himself upright once again. His burning lungs screamed at him to stop running, but he would not. It all felt like a nightmare – extremely realistic and terrifying, chilling to the bone. But he knew it was no dream. And there was no way out. Every second could mean the difference between life and death for Anakin. He could not waste that second – as he could not waste that life. Stumbling, ignoring the pain in twisted ankle and his raw throat, Obi-Wan moved onward.
Thick, humid air of the forest filled his lungs like cotton wool, suffocating him, cutting out his breath. How long had he been running? It didn't matter. Time didn't exist any more, yet every second pounded in his ears like an alarm bell, along with his blood, reminding him that he had so little time…
Stop! A tree, a huge tree he almost ran into, stood on his way, blocking his path. Something in it made him uneasy. He looked it over, wondering what it was, momentarily forgetting his purpose, enthralled by the glaring wrongness of the forest giant – and he saw. The tree was half dead: dry boughs, branches without a single leaf were mixed with branches full of vital juices, full of life. He had traveled to many planets in his not too long life but he had never seen such a tree before. Half rotten, turned into dust – half bright with Living Force.
He made a step forward, enchanted by the weird creation of nature. With a piercing scratch, dry boughs reached out to him, as though trying to get hold on him to never let him go. He recoiled startled, disgusted. Yes, there was something disgusting in this tree, in its rotten brunches that had long ago lost their vitality. What did they want from him? What were they doing in the world of living?
He made a step to the side, trying to circle the tree. Now all the brunches reached for him, eliciting a cacophony of sounds from the huge tree. Blindly they fumbled in the air, but he still could not get away from them. And finally they seized him, twisted around him, almost smothering. He struggled against them, eager to get free.
An image of Anakin flashed in his mind. Go. He must go. He… must… save… Anakin. //Hold on, Padawan, I'm coming!// With a huge effort, defying the thick branches that held him, Obi-Wan drew out his lightsaber and ignited it. The blade glowed brightly in the dim light of the clouded sky.
A tempest started over the forest. Lightnings sliced the darkened sky with knifes of intolerable, blinding light, raging. In the constantly changing light of the storm Obi-Wan's lightsaber seemed to change its colour from deep azure to bloody scarlet. It almost scared Obi-Wan, but he didn't have time to be scared. Not paying attention to the odd duality his 'saber seemed to obtain, Obi-Wan cut the glowing blade through the tree branches to free himself of their grip. With a cry that was almost human the branches fell off.
But the tree still didn't let go. It stood solidly on Obi-Wan's path, unyielding. Panting, Obi-Wan stood before the tree, lightsaber at the ready. He could almost feel the challenge from the tree hanging in the air between them.
And then he swung his 'saber in a wide arc, bringing it down onto the damned tree. And again. And again. The tree swayed, then with a thunderous moan, rivaling the roar of the raging sky, it fell onto the ground, bringing down with it the trees around it. Earth shook under Obi-Wan's feet, and he almost lost his balance. But he needed to continue his frenzied running, he needed to get to Anakin.
And continue he did.
Madness, this was madness. But he could not stop running. And he would not. Pushing himself to the limits, squeezing all the hidden energies out of his body, he moved on in a dead run.
Finally! He skidded to a screeching halt at the stony edge of a sheer drop, panting breathlessly. There, beneath him, was hanging his padawan, holding precariously onto the small stone, protruding from the otherwise smooth vertical wall.
"Anakin, hold on," Obi-Wan cried to the frightened boy, wondering at the hoarseness of his own voice. He saw two clear blue orbs gazing up at him with fear, hope and trust, mirroring his own twisted face.
"Master, help me!" Anakin's words were a muffled cry, laced with panic.
Dropping onto his stomach, Obi-Wan reached his hand out to his padawan. For a tantalizing moment the boy was hesitant, afraid to let go of the stone his hands were clutching so hard his knuckles were white. Then resolve flared in his eyes and he shakily reached one hand towards his master. Obi-Wan grasped firmly the small hand that was bleeding from sharp stones that had cut into it. Some fine stones had etched themselves into Anakin's skin.
Obi-Wan pulled. Hanging treacherously at the very edge of the drop that stretched down into the misty abyss, he aided himself with the Force. Anakin, with his hand now firmly grasped in his master's bigger one, let go of the stone he had been clinging to and was helping himself up with his free hand.
Obi-Wan was slowly dragging Anakin up. A bit more… Close… He managed, he got here in time. He saved his padawan. Almost… Just a bit more… Anakin was almost over the edge already. The boy grasped low grass to help propel himself further, but with a tearing sound it let go. He threw away the useless bunch of grass and gripped the stony soil instead. They were making progress – slow but sure.
Anakin's foot slipped and he grasped Obi-Wan's hand harder in panic, cutting off the man's circulation. Obi-Wan gasped in alarm. For a frightening moment the boy's leg was hanging loosely over the bottomless drop, even the sight of which made a person sick. Sending calming waves of Force to the boy, Obi-Wan let reassurance glow in his eyes, keeping his own dread from leaking through to Anakin. //Don't let your fear rule you. I'm holding you.// He saw panic in the boy's eyes mold into resolve once more.
Anakin pushed his upper body over the edge, lying on his stomach. Obi-Wan released his hand to help him further when he saw Anakin raise his head. The boy looked up, somewhere above Obi-Wan's head. Recognition flashed in the blue eyes. Obi-Wan heard the Force's shriek, warning him of peril. The Force was shouting at him to move somewhere to the side – anywhere – away – now!
But it was too late.
With a growing sense of trepidation Obi-Wan felt a hand being put at the base of his neck, roughly pushing him forward. His heart missed a bit as he realized in incredible clarity that he was falling over the edge and into the sheer abyss of the endless dark mist. His hands roamed frantically to find something to hold onto – there should be something… anything… some leverage… a stone, maybe… there must be…
He saw the shock of his padawan, the boy's eyes wide with horror. He saw Anakin reach out to him with his hand. Their fingers brushed. For a split second of illogical hope Obi-Wan thought he could save himself from the dark fate that awaited him down there, in the inky blackness of immeasurable drop. But his hope sank and shattered as he saw glow of hope in Anakin's eyes being replaced by desperation. Nothing could save him now.
Clarity of the situation sliced through Obi-Wan's brain like a dagger and he struggled to at least see who had pushed him. But his vision suddenly swam out of focus. The only thing he could see clearly now were his padawan's huge eyes, filled with tears – eyes that pleaded not to leave him alone, yet knew that all the pleas were futile. He strained to see the unknown figure clearer. Hooded – familiar, something elusively familiar – it seemed to be close yet very far away – pushing away yet welcoming – dark and cold yet warm at the same time. Confusing, clouded, unfocused… The world went in slow motion, spinning around. Time was suspended. Droplets of crystalline clear moments trickled past him like rain through sunshine to disappear forever in the vastness of infinity.
He could feel everything – emptiness of air beneath him, the Force around him. The Force, part of which he was going to become very soon. Much too soon. There was nothing to hold onto, not even the Force could help him.
Then the time sped up.
He heard his padawan's desperate, piercing cry of denial. Felt the pressure of air around him as he fell to his death, a sudden gush of wind that drove into him with ferocity, suffocating him, choking his breath. Then the darkness closed in on him, cutting everything off.