The Gift
This story takes place between Phantom Menace and EP2. Anakin is 18, Amidala is 23, Obi-Wan is 34, etc., etc….It follows the story Home. And for all you trekkies, I stole the plant from the pilot episode J
***
"Oh, Anakin! It's beautiful!"
"Yes, it is," he answered. "Just like you."
Amidala turned back quickly to look at him, a breathtaking smile stretching across her face. She moved to the center of the garden, kneeling gently before the trembling plant in awe. Anakin joined her, still holding the silk scarf he had used to blindfold her moments before. He took in her every movement – every breath, every blink of her eyes, absorbed him wholly. He liked her best like this. When she wasn't dressed in her formal robes and pulled her hair back in a simple knot, drawing attention to her vibrant features.
"I wanted this day to be special," he said gently, kneeling down next to her. "The day you were brought into this world."
She glanced back towards him with barely contained excitement, and stretched out an elegant hand to touch the leaves of the green-gold plant. A perfect note resounded through the walled garden, as the rounded leaf shook as with a life of its own, its pigmentation responding with a surge of color.
"It's perfect, Anakin," she said after the note had died. "I've never actually seen a chaxii plant before!" She touched another leaf, spilling out another perfect note of a lower tone as it turned a deep purple.
"They only flower once every hundred years," Anakin added. "That's why there are so few of them. They were cultivated when their natural habitat was destroyed thousands of years ago."
"It's very delicate," she noted touching another leaf. "I shall take great care to make sure it remains healthy."
"I know you will," he answered, and slowly grasped her hand.
This caused her to fluster slightly in response. It was unexpected. In fact, most of his behavior of late had been unexpected. Not that he hadn't always showered her with gifts and affection – no, that had always been his way. But these exchanges between them had taken on a decidedly romantic tone. In a way, it frightened her. She did not have much experience in the affairs of love. Most of her time was spent among her governors, or her handmaidens, leaving her little time for her personal life.
She managed a grateful smile, then rose, guiding him along with her. Looking over his face, she still in some ways saw the little boy she had met nine years ago, his bright blue eyes shining back at her. But he was a man now she told herself, and nearly a jedi knight. Once his training was complete, he would go back to Coruscant, far from her reach. Things would undoubtedly change between them then. New obstacles would arise. As a jedi, Anakin's duty would be to serve, and like her, he would have little time for private affairs.
"Obi-Wan says I will be ready for the trials soon," he spoke, as though reading her mind. He stopped walking alongside, and she turned back towards him. "When I return to Coruscant, I will be away for some time. It may be years before I return to Naboo."
"Yes, I know," she said with finality. A heavy sadness began to fall over her then. She would be alone once more, without his bright spark of life to lighten her moods, to make her laugh or forget for just a moment about her worries. The halls would seem empty without the playful banter between Anakin and his master. She realized then that it wasn't just Anakin that she would miss, but Obi-Wan as well. They had both affected her life in different ways, like night and day. Anakin was fiery and passionate, and Obi-Wan was cool and serene. They were both irrevocably woven into the pattern of her everyday life.
Anakin suddenly jumped, startling her out of her thoughts. "Oh, no," he groaned, and ran to the computer display contained in the garden's wall. His dirty blonde hair had flopped into his face and he pushed it away impatiently as he pressed a button, displaying the time of day in large green letters. "I'm gonna be late for my lesson again."
"You'd better go," Amidala said biting back her grin. She watched Anakin smile broadly back at her, and bowed before her in jest. "Go!" she laughed at him. He took off running, sliding across the smooth marble steps that lead back indoors, then scurried for the door.
***
He flew into the training room, nearly stumbling on one of the rugs near the door. He scanned the room quickly, looking for his master, who he knew would be annoyed. It wasn't the first time he'd been late for their lessons. It wasn't that he *wanted* to be late, it was just that sometimes it seemed unavoidable. He told himself again for the hundredth time that he would make it a point to never be late again.
"Timely as usual," came the clipped voice from behind the support beam. Obi-Wan walked into view with his arms crossed, eyeing Anakin with disdain.
"I'm sorry master," Anakin answered nervously, "You see, it's Amidala…I got her a present, and I had to make it a surprise, so I…"
"Enough, enough," the older man said with a wave of his hand. "I know where you've been." He sighed at Anakin. "If this were the first time it would be one thing, but…" Obi-Wan trailed off as Anakin stared down at the floor, clearly embarrassed by the situation. "Nevermind it," he answered with obvious reluctance, "I'm not going to ruin this day for you. I know you went to much trouble to get her the chaxii plant."
"She really liked it," Anakin said, venturing a half-smile. "She was still looking at it when I left the garden."
"Good," he said, smiling shortly. "Now, let's get down to business." He made his way over to the open area nearest to the windows. Usually, they sparred out in hallways, or on the open plains of Naboo. But when Obi-Wan wished to instruct him in close quarter combat he liked to use these facilities. Obi-Wan gave Anakin a few minutes to prepare; to remove the clutter from his mind so he could focus on the lesson at hand. The two men stood only several feet apart, Obi-Wan relaxed and waiting, and Anakin trying to release his tension, with his eyes closed in concentration. His eyes snapped open, and Obi-Wan reflexively lit his lightsaber. Anakin's joined his, and the lesson began as he struck the first blow, sending blue and green sparks into the air.
They had trained heavily in open air, as well in the Gungan swamps, but Anakin was already learning quickly to compensate in the reduced space. Anakin was very strong in the Force, and stronger still physically, but his master's swordsmanship remained a notch above. As Anakin struggled to remain on the offensive, Obi-Wan seemed to casually deflect the blows, his wrists spinning deftly as he passed the lightsaber from hand to hand. What Anakin lacked in skill, he made up for in speed. What Obi-Wan lacked in speed, he made up for in grace. They made an interesting pair.
It was impossible to do elaborate maneuvers in the space provided, and Anakin was beginning to show signs of frustration as Obi-Wan pinned him twice against a support column. He had managed to gain some ground by physically pushing Obi-Wan away from him when their sabers became locked with one another, but Obi-Wan had not faltered once. His bond with the Force allowed him to anticipate some of Anakin's moves. As frustration built in the young man, his focus began to become cloudy. This always happened to him when he felt threatened or weak. It only made him angrier that he could not control it. Sweat began to drip from his brow, and Obi-Wan thrust quickly forward, then jumped back. The move was meant to put Anakin on the defensive so he could put some space between them
"You must focus, Anakin," Kenobi said, breathlessly, "Your mind is clouded. If I was an adversary, I could have beaten you by now."
"I am in control," Anakin said, his face straining to mask his disappointment.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said knowingly, "Your body betrays your emotions. Do not reach out with anger, Anakin. It's the path to the Dark Side."
Anakin was fighting the growing anger inside of him. He wasn't really upset at Obi-Wan, he was mad with himself. But his first urge was to lash out, to strike out at his teacher and prove to him that he mastered the skills it took to become a jedi – the best jedi. Better, even, than his teacher.
"I *said* I am in control," he answered defensively. He struck out again at Obi-Wan, showboating with moves that demonstrated his unmatchable speed. Within seconds, he had Obi-Wan on the defensive.
***
She loved the plant, spending an entire hour with it making strange melodies. Each time a clear note rang out, she thought of the trouble Anakin must've gone through to get it to her, and it made her smile. He was so giving. Sometimes, he had even gone too far, she thought. Though always well intentioned, he had spent a great amount of time lately bringing her elaborate gifts and displaying heroics to impress her. And it did. But she hoped he understood that none of it was necessary. The friendship they shared was based on trust, and that was the most important thing to her. She was able to tell Anakin things that not even her closest compatriots knew. If there was anyone she could trust, it was Anakin. He could never betray her, she felt sure of it.
The calm was broken by a feral cry that echoed through the halls, finally making its way into the garden. Amidala stood with a start, and made her way quickly to the sound of its source. Her footsteps echoed through the empty hallways, as she came across the training room of the two jedis. The doors slid open at her command, and she discovered the remains of a dramatic scene that had played out just before her arrival.
Obi-Wan was splayed across the floor, his back up against a support column, as Anakin stood above him, his lightsaber in one hand, pointed towards his master. Anakin's other hand was covering a wound on his shoulder, a burn inflicted by a lightsaber. His face was hidden from her, but she could see Obi-Wan's expression clearly. He looked like a cornered animal. His lightsaber was no where to be found. A fear rose in her. She knew it was not considered proper to interfere in their lessons. Obi-Wan had made that *more* than clear on several occasions. But if she didn't do something, the two looked like they might tear each other apart.
"What is going on?" she thundered in her most imperious tone.
Both men seemed as though they snapped out of a daze. Anakin quickly sheathed his weapon, as Obi-Wan rose and stood beside him. They both looked like they'd been through hell and back, their faces tired. They stared back at her silently, as though they, too, were trying to process what had just happened.
"Answer me," she said, disturbed by their lack of reply.
"It was just a training exercise," Anakin finally answered, glancing warily over at his master. "We got a little out of hand."
"I can *see* that," she replied, gazing at his wound. She glanced towards Obi-Wan, who remained silent, and soon it permeated the room. "Fine," Amidala answered sharply. "Anakin, go have that wound tended to."
"I'm fine," he began to argue.
"Are you disobeying a direct order from your monarch?" she replied defiantly.
"No," he said, rolling his eyes. He hated it when she pulled that. Defeated, he lurched past Amidala as she pointed the way to the door, glancing briefly back at his master who stared at Amidala sullenly. When the door shut behind him, she continued.
"And you! You are supposed to be his teacher!"
"You weren't here earlier," he answered caustically, "and you don't understand the situation." He ran a hand through his unruly hair.
"Well, I'm sorry I had to see it at all," she answered bitterly. "I wish the two of you wouldn't come to blows."
She stood before him in a lordly fashion, staring him down with annoyance as she shifted her weight, crossing and uncrossing her arms. She would simply wait until she got an answer…she was patient enough. She nearly gasped when she looked back at Obi-Wan, who had removed his robe, and was standing before her in his thin undershirt.
"The one that got away," he said. Flashing a devilish grin, he poked his finger through a lightsaber burn in the back of his tunic and wiggled it for effect.
Amidala turned away from him, trying to hide her shock at the sight of his nearly bare torso, and also to keep from laughing. He very rarely joked around with her, much less anyone. He seemed to suddenly realize her discomfort, and moved quickly over to the containment units lining the wall. Touching it very lightly, the door opened, producing a fresh robe. Amidala battled with herself to turn away as he pulled the tunic over his well-muscled frame, the movement causing slight ripples in his arms. Instead, she distracted herself by spotting his lightsaber, and walking over to retrieve it. She hefted the object in her hands, testing its weight. Soon, a flash of light shot out of the cylinder, and she stood a moment, amazed at the weapon she held in her small hands. She braved a few slow slices through the air, listening in awe to the humming of the laser sword as it split the air.
"It's not a toy, your highness," Obi-Wan said gravely. He gently grabbed her wrist, attempting to shut the unit off. Instead, she slid away from him, carefully but awkwardly wielding the blade.
"What exactly *was* today's lesson?" she asked curiously, and began getting more adventurous with her strokes. "You looked more like enemies than a student and teacher."
He moved swiftly over to her, annoyed, but surprised at the same time at how quickly she had adjusted to the weight of the weapon. Sometimes he forgot that she was a capable fighter herself.
"You're gripping it wrong," he finally said in exasperation. He walked over to her and held out his hand as she placed the weapon there. "Which hand do you use most often?"
"My right one," she answered, watching him demonstrate.
"You must grip with your lead hand higher…here," he said, wrapping his hand around the upper part of the handle. "The strength comes mostly from your thumb and forefinger. Then, your other hand supports it from below, like so." He jostled the weapon in his hand, settling into its familiar feeling. "Here, you try it."
Amidala took it from him, and followed his example. At first, it seemed more unwieldy than before, but soon she had settled into it more comfortably.
"Better control," she said to him approvingly.
"The control comes from the wrists," he offered, "followed by the arms."
He stood next to her and tried to explain with his hands as she held the weapon. She mimicked him, but seemed to loose control as the weight of the object shifted like a pendulum. She stopped for a moment, then tried again, unable to get a proper feel for it.
"I can't," she said in frustration, "the weight won't let me."
"Well," he said with a touch of sarcasm, "female jedis use the same lightsabers as the male jedis. If you can't lift it, then maybe you…"
"I can lift it," she answered brazenly, "I just can't seem…to…gain…enough control!" The saber twisted suddenly from her hands and clattered to the floor, the blade automatically shutting off at the lack of contact.
"Master Yoda says that control is one of the most important elements of training," he said, goading her.
"I don't care what Master Yoda says," she answered hotly as her eyes flared up at him.
"You and Anakin are very much alike you, know?" He said pondering her for a second. "You both are extremely gifted, but when you become frustrated, you begin to attack."
She ignored him, and taking a deep breath, picked up the saber again. She had never really thought about it before, but she knew it was only partially true. She was far more diplomatic than Anakin, she told herself. *Besides,* she thought, glancing over at him. *He's just goading me.* She set her jaw and gripped it again, shifting its weight between her wrists and then her arms. She felt a little more confident and continued.
"If you loosen your grip a little on the handle," Obi-Wan ventured, reaching around her from behind to guide her hands, "you won't have to strain…" He was cut off by a sharp elbow aimed at his ribs.
"Sorry," he said defensively, "I was only trying to show you the proper way to do it. I don't seem to remember Anakin elbowing me when I showed him."
Amidala calmed herself and apologized. "Show me."
***
Obi-Wan didn't really want to go to the celebration. He wasn't a huge fan of parties and other events that encouraged debauchery. But, it was for Amidala, and he knew his padawan would go. It would look odd if he weren't present.
Anakin had opted to dress rather loudly for the occasion, he thought. Instead of the simple jedi robes, he had dressed in an elaborate suit that looked vaguely militaristic. But since it was a gift from Chancellor Palpatine, Obi-Wan really had no reason to disapprove. It would be insulting if Anakin didn't wear it at least once. Obi-Wan looked himself over in the mirror. He was not a vain man, but even he had given in to noticing the slow signs of aging. Like most jedi, their mastery of the Force made them appear much younger than their actual age. But Obi-Wan couldn't help noticing that even though he was in top form physically, he was beginning to show fine wrinkles around his gray-blue eyes. Someday, he would be old, just like Master Yoda. Well, maybe not *that* old.
He thought for a moment of his old master, Qui-Gon, who had always seemed so robust and hearty to him, even though he was past his prime as a jedi. He had worshipped the man as the father he'd never had. He and Anakin would never share that special relationship. It hurt him to think it, but he knew it was true. Though Anakin loved him and respected him, it was like a brother, and not a father. Anakin didn't see the clear line that was drawn between master and apprentice like he had with Qui-Gon. Like everything else with Anakin, the lines were always blurred into a faint gray. It was why the council feared him, and feared *for* him. Someday, he might step over that line, and fall into darkness. He painfully recounted the events earlier today that had set them at each other's throats. It wasn't the first time, either. Anakin had lost control, and instead of stopping the lesson and chastising him, he had gotten angry himself and kept the battle going. He had accidentally struck Anakin with his lightsaber when he had wrongly anticipated a movement, and it had sent Anakin into a raging fury. Obi-Wan was left to do nothing else but defend himself, eventually being pinned against the column. It was as much his fault as it was Anakin's.
"Some teacher I've turned out to be," he spoke aloud to himself.
***
As usual, the celebration had gone on much longer than she wanted it to. But she couldn't very well up and leave, Queen or no. Most of the people gathered seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. She surveyed the banquet hall, noticing Palpatine and Anakin had hit it off, as usual. The two were becoming quite chummy. Anakin seemed to enjoy being in the older man's fatherly presence, even going so far as to wear a suit that he had given him as a gift. He looked handsome in it, she thought to herself bemusedly. The navy colors picked up the blue of his eyes. His blonde hair also made a nice contrast against the darkness of the cloth. But it was too elaborate, and vaguely militaristic. She liked it when he wore the simple jedi robes he spent most of his time in. She liked thinking of him as that innocent boy with humble beginnings, who had beaten the odds to become a hero to her people, and herself. That was her Anakin, the man she cherished above everything.
Stepping down from the dais, she looked over at her handmaidens, and saw the slight smile cross Sabé's face. Amidala kept her emotionless mask, but knew that the young woman was pleased that for once she didn't have to "play queen" during the celebration. She did feel sorry for her friend, sometimes. Amidala watched as she raised her drink to the Queen, and downed the contents of the cup. *Cocky* Amidala thought to her double, and the other woman caught the expression just slightly in her eyes. Though it was her party, most of the guests seemed too tired or drunk to notice she had moved down the platform. Taking advantage of this, she slipped stealthily through one of the open arches that lined the hall, and stole down the hallway towards the garden.
The chaxii plant was sitting in the cool evening breeze, stirring slightly in the wind. One of the things that amazed her about the plant was this very thing. The chaxii would only respond with a musical note when touched by a hand of flesh-and-blood. An inanimate object or a gust of wind wouldn't affect it. She ventured across the garden, annoyed at the feeling of the grass tugging at the heavy ends of her robes. Dragging herself before the plant, she kneeled again before it, and touched a delicate leaf. She tried to pick one she hadn't chosen before, and it rang with a high pitched note, and turned a warm gold, like the leaves of the trees before they fall to the earth in the change of seasons.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Amidala didn't turn, knowing that it was Obi-Wan who had invited himself into the solitude of her private garden.
"Yes," she said, touching another leaf, this one turning a violent red, "it's perfect."
The grass rustled softly as he moved nearer to her. "I got you…something," he said softly, trailing off.
She stood and turned towards him, unconsciously wearing the emotionless mask that felt so familiar when her face was covered in heavy paint. "You didn't have to," she said plainly.
"I know," he said. "Actually, I didn't *get* it for you. I've had it for some time. But I thought it was something you might enjoy."
He drew out a small book from behind his back, worn at the edges, and held together by a strap of leather. The spine was beginning to fold, and she took it from him and turned it over slowly in her hands looking for a title.
"It's a book of Calimarian poetry," he said finally. "It belonged to Qui-Gon."
She looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "Thank you, I know what this must mean to you."
"I know what my master meant to you," he added, "he would've wanted you to have it."
"Thank you," she said again, this time with deeper emotion. He bowed before her formally, then departed from the garden. Amidala sat down again before the plant and unbound the book, pouring over the pages.
***
"You certainly drank your fare share of wine, young Skywalker," Palpatine said with laugher.
Both of the men were walking down the empty corridors, departing the celebration to look for the Queen who had disappeared so mysteriously. They strolled through the halls leisurely, talking of Coruscant and remembering the battle with the Trade Federation, and how young he had been then. Palpatine was so impressed at how strong Anakin had grown. He told him he had heard from the jedi on Coruscant how powerful he had become.
"If ever I need a hero to come to the galaxy's defense," Palpatine said with a wry smile, "I know just who to ask!"
Anakin waved the older man away, surprised at how dull his reflexes seemed. Obi-Wan would not like this at all. "Jedis do not engage in debauchery," he could already hear his teacher say. It wasn't like Anakin cut loose all the time. Besides, he had a lot on his mind. Their confrontation earlier had left him unsettled, and he had dwelled on it most of the night. It was only when Palpatine had joined him, and the wine had flowed freely that he had felt truly like himself for the first time in days.
"I must retire now, my young friend," Palpatine said, clapping Anakin on his shoulder. "I hope you will come see me off tomorrow?"
"Of course," Anakin answered slowly, "see you tomorrow."
He watched him enter the quarters, then turned back towards the hall. Where could Amidala be? Then a light came on in his head. Of course, the chaxii plant! He dragged himself through the halls, finally making his way to the garden, and down the marble steps. Sure enough, there was Amidala kneeling before the flower, absently touching the trembling leaves. He slowly crossed to her, picking up snippets of speech as he approached.
"…bringing life above and below, on a chariot of the sweetest flame…"
"What are you doing?" Anakin asked interrupting, and plopped himself on the ground beside her.
"I'm reading a book of poetry from Calamari," she answered, and touched a leaf, sending a thick note into the air.
"You read Calamari?" he questioned grabbing the book from her.
"No, it's a translation of poetry from Calamari," she answered, knotting her brows as he refused to give it back to her. "Obi-Wan gave it to me."
"Really?!" Anakin gave her the book back, and propped himself on his elbows, suddenly interested.
"Yes," she replied, "it used to be Qui-Gon's."
"I see," Anakin said thoughtfully, "it must been important to him." He changed positions, laying down on the grass next to her, looking up into the night sky. "Read something to me."
"Really?" she asked, surprised. He didn't answer, so she began again the poem she had been reading earlier. He sat there quietly, staring up at the night sky, soaking the words in, along the melody of her voice, broken by the occasional note from the chaxii. Finally, he closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
***
The thundering noise drew closer to him. Stretched out on a thin dune, a thousand faces suddenly appeared at its edge. Most of them, he did not recognize. But others he did. People from his childhood now grown with age. He realized he must be on Tatooine, and he searched the landscape patiently, as heat licked the dunes creating waves of mirage across its surface. One of the men looked like Kitster, but much older now. His eyes were the same, but something in them was…haunting. The other's expression made him feel uneasy, like something was wrong. Instantaneously, a word came into his head: mother.
An upsetting feeling came over him as he scanned the crowd, searching desperately for her. There seemed to be thousands of them now, and they moved forward, pushing against him.
"Where's my mother?" he screamed into the crowd, and they stopped pushing past him as Kitster stepped forward.
"She's dead, Ani," he answered emotionless. "And soon we'll all be, too."
Anakin followed his eyes towards the horizon and looked at the army massing across it. Realization dawning on him, he looked over the group gathered before him. They were armed with rudimentary tools, very few had actual weapons. They were all slaves.
"But at least we will be free," Kitster continued. "Slaves no more."
The crowd behind him repeated the words like mindless clones. Anakin's mind was swimming. This couldn't be happening. His mother wasn't *dead*.
"You're lying," snapped Anakin, turning to him. "Where is my mother?"
As if in response, an image of his mother appeared before him, standing between the two small armies.
"I'm here, Ani," she cried, "help me!"
Anakin strode out across the desert plain, quickening his pace as he neared her. But it seemed as though every step he took made no difference. She was still too far away from him. He began to run. Finally, he reached out to her, grabbing for her desperately as she pleaded with him.
"Please, Ani! Help me!"
Straining, his arms wrapped themselves about her, and he closed them to hug her to him. Only she wasn't there. His mother was gone, replaced by the furious tremor of the charging enemy.
"Noooooo!!!" He screamed in anguish.
Anakin drew his lightsaber and gave a battle call. The slave army raced behind him as the enemy approached and the two armies collided in an explosion of twisting steel and flesh. Anakin could not feel anything, as he watched his people cut down by the slavers. Relentlessly, he began to chop down his enemies one by one. They had done this to his mother. He felt sure of it. He would not stop until every last one of them was dead.
***
"Anakin," she said, shaking him furiously, "Anakin!"
Anakin laid on the ground before her, twisting in agony. She had shaken him, screamed at him, slapped him – nothing had worked. He had been dreaming for only a short time now, but he seemed so caught up in it, he was unable to waken.
Obi-Wan had heard her yelling, and had rushed into the garden. Seeing his apprentice lying on the grass, he grabbed the man and yanked him to his feet.
"Anakin!" he yelled, "snap out of it, man!"
Anakin's eyes opened, but there was an obvious glaze there. He shoved himself out of Obi-Wan's grasp, and stumbled onto the ground.
"You," he said thickly, gazing at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan gave a disgusted glance over to Amidala. "How much did he drink tonight?"
"I don't know," she stammered out, surprised by Anakin's strange behavior. She knew he had troubling dreams, but went far beyond that.
"This is your fault," Anakin said at Obi-Wan, seething.
A look of confusion instantly registered on his face. "Anakin, you don't know what you're talking about."
"My mother's dead because of you!" he cried in anguish.
Amidala's face twisted in pain and fear, and she moved nearer to Obi-Wan. Anakin noticed it immediately.
"No," he pleaded, "stay away from him."
"Anakin, please," she tried to reason with him. "Let's go to the medical facility together. I'm sure there's a reasonable…"
Anakin didn't want to listen anymore. He drew his lightsaber from his hip and lit the blade.
Amidala panicked as Obi-Wan drew his saber and lit it as well. "Please, stop this Anakin, you're scaring me!"
Obi-Wan drew Amidala behind him as Anakin set his weapon against him. Obi-Wan did not strike back at him, but instead only defended against the blows. "Get out of here Amidala," he ordered.
She moved away from the two men, but continued to watch as they fought. Thinking quickly, she moved over to the computer interface and contacted Panaka. At least they could tranquilize him, until they figured out what was wrong. She had never seen Anakin like this. He was absolutely terrifying. But she couldn't imagine that he was capable of doing this willingly. There must be some other explanation.
"Anakin, you must stop this, I don't want to hurt you!" Obi-Wan yelled out at his apprentice.
Anakin didn't bother to answer. He looked like a wild animal, sweating profusely, nearly foaming at the mouth. His face had turned an unpleasant shade of purple. *Poisoned* Obi-Wan suddenly thought. He's been poisoned! He deflected another blow, but it sent him reeling against the chaxii planet, sending a cacophony of sound into the air. It wasn't melodious at all, but earsplitting, like the clinging of a thousand bells. Anakin momentarily covered his ears, the noise deafening. Obi-Wan took the advantage to try to knock him out with the butt of the lightsaber. But he was too slow. Anakin reacted swiftly, and Obi-Wan had but seconds to maneuver out of his way as his lightsaber came crashing down on the chaxii plant.
Obi-Wan lay on the ground, vulnerable, his breath knocked out of him. But Anakin wasn't interested in him anymore. Instead, he was looking at the decimated remains of the plant lying across the ground. The golden-green leaves had turned a charcoal black, dark and cold. He kneeled before the plant, his lightsaber sheathed in his hand. Obi-Wan saw his shoulder heave in a sob.
"What have I done?" His face, so devoid of emotion only moments before, had taken on the countenance of utter sadness. "What have I done?" he repeated as his body heaved in sorrow.
Amidala watched as Obi-Wan slowly moved towards his friend, then took the young man in his arms and began hugging him tightly as he squirmed in pain.
"What have I done?"
As Panaka and his troops fluttered in with the doctor, Amidala ordered them to remain still until Obi-Wan had helped Anakin to his feet, and they began walking towards them.
***
"I thought it was poison at first," Obi-Wan said to Queen.
"Not poison," she answered with gravity, "a hallucinogen."
"So," Panaka said, breaking into the conversation, "whoever is responsible was up to something much more devious."
Obi-Wan nodded his head in agreement. Strange to choose Anakin, though. He thought to himself. Anakin had only shared his nightmares of his mother with Amidala and himself. Could it just be a coincidence?
"It may have been intended for you, your majesty," Panaka offered.
Amidala looked gravely over at Anakin, who was finally sleeping peacefully in the medical bed.
"What kind of person could do such a thing?" asked Palpatine in disgust. They all glanced briefly at the Chancellor who was wearing his dressing robes, wakened from his sleep, no doubt, by the commotion.
"That's what I intend to find out," said Panaka with surety. He looked over at the Queen who was still gazing at the sleeping Anakin. She looked like she wanted to cry. "There's nothing more you can do tonight, your highness. It's late. You should rest."
"No," she answered. "I'm going to stay here and watch over him."
"Your highness," Panaka said in a tone that meant he clearly objected.
"I'm staying, Panaka," she said firmly. There was no room for discussion in the matter.
"Then I'm staying, too." Obi-Wan said, looking over at the Queen. She looked at first like she intended to argue, but then her features softened. Anakin was his friend, too.
"Very well," said Panaka curtly. "I'm going to post guards outside the door."
Palpatine looked down at the young Queen, and placed his hands gently upon her shoulders. "Sleep well, your highness."
She smiled at him briefly, then waited until everyone left and slid down into a seat across Anakin. Obi-Wan sat down into the seat next to her in silence.
It was going to be a very long night.
THE END