Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Anakin (thought I do have his action figure) or any other Star Wars character. I dare say they are all the property of the George (you know the one—NO NOT THAT ONE!).
Spoilers: Not too many, just all of Episode II
Star Gazing
By: OneSongKatie
Gazing into the night sky, Anakin wondered if there was a reason for all things, some sort of hidden scheme subliminally transmitted in starlight.
He thought maybe there was.
The Force at work perhaps?
Unable to find a more suitable explanation, the Jedi turned and reentered the tall paneled doors through which he'd come, sending out a silent search for someone...for her.
There. Still deep in unmoving sleep, just as he'd left her moments before.
Oh, to sleep so profoundly! He smiled at her...decorum, her complete seriousness even while unconscious! Always the diplomat, sleeping or otherwise.
He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her, admiring the dramatic, soft lines of her face, and reminded himself giddily that she belonged to him.
He'd dreamed of her touch for ten years.
For ten agonizing years he'd thought of what her lips would taste like, feel like, though certainly never dreaming that he would actually know.
And now, he would never forget the sensation, like so many half-remembered joys from his childhood—barely believable, almost surreal.
His musing drifted towards the vision he'd had this night. Deep in the throes of unimaginable passion his mind had flashed upon a darker time—the future, he posited, shuddering at the memory. His face was no longer flesh.
He'd felt so cold.
He'd had the oddest suspicion that his mind no longer controlled his body. There was no trace of happiness left for him in this time, and all he could see for miles and miles was darkness ripe with loss and...hate.
He'd immediately identified the sensation, having only just experienced it days earlier at the site of his mother's death.
It had terrified him beyond comprehension that this vision's feelings of hate and grief were intensely familiar. He was alarmed by this horrifying sensation, and even as pleasure ultimately consumed him, the frightening picture haunted his subconscious.
For a reason he could not quite name, he recalled words once spoken to him: a Jedi must know no possession, no attachment, no passion; these will only lead you down the path to the dark side. Obi-Wan had said this to him long ago, he recalled, after he'd asked, with all the honesty a child can muster, if Jedi were allowed to marry.
Once again he thought of the stars, hoping their alignment somehow correlated to his own, and wishing for some sign.
He could not live without this woman.
Why could he not have both paths; Jedi and lover?!
He reached out and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, trying to find inner calm. He would have to return to Coruscant in a day. Obi-Wan would be expecting Anakin back at his side, attentively awaiting the elder knight's next pearl of wisdom. Anakin outwardly grimaced at the thought.
He'd grown exceedingly tired of being Obi-Wan's second lately, desperately needing independence. His loyalty to a man who'd cared for him, guided him, loved him to some extent, Anakin surmised, wore thin from constant reprimand.
His heart felt complete, unfaltering allegiance with Obi-Wan, but the rest of him despised him for his perpetual scolding.
Besides, Anakin reasoned, Obi-Wan would sense Anakin's actions on Naboo the moment he returned. He'd know immediately that Anakin's mind and body no longer owed fealty only to the Order.
Though when had it ever, really, Anakin thought wryly.
Regardless, he knew innately Obi-Wan would certainly ensure that Anakin's Jedi ambitions never came to fruition now.
He considered waking Padme up to talk to her, but then wondered if it would be unkind to burden her with this as well.
He contented himself by merely watching her sleep. He recalled how he'd once told her he found her presence soothing, neglecting to mention the other blade of that lightsaber—her presence tormented him.
He'd ever only desired two things in the universe, and the obtainment of one negated the other. Once more his frustrated mind turned seemingly uncontrollably towards the vision he'd had.
Its mere presence in his mind chilled him thoroughly, because he knew what those emotions—anger, grief, hate—made one do, had made him do.
He closed his eyes, finally allowing the wash of guilt and anguish he'd felt since he...since he had destroyed life.
In anger.
He'd used the Force to kill.
Remembering the vision Anakin vowed to rage against any such act again.
Opening his eyes, he rose, walking purposely back through the doors to the veranda. Anakin glared defiantly at the stars, daring them to contradict his words.
They merely twinkled innocently back.
And as Anakin strode triumphantly inside, he did not see the shadow that seemed to diminish their brightness.