Disclaimer: Star Wars, all recognizable characters and ideas belong to George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd., and definitely are not mine. I claim no ownership and am not seeking any profit.
Author's Notes: *SPOILERS* for 'Episode II: Attack of the Clones'. If you haven't seen that, don't read this.
Summary: Anakin thinks about Padmé, and some of the darker things in life. Fluff, if you can believe it.
Rating: PG-13, mention of violence. Romance/Angst. Anakin/Padmé.
Part 1/1
by: TangledAria
(jentangaria@hotmail.com)
For the second time that week, Anakin Skywalker was awake before the sun. He had to admit though, if there was any place he had to spend more waking hours that not, it was Naboo. The planet had a beautiful, serene air to it. Much like its former queen, he supposed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He could sense her, still asleep in their bedroom, her mind a calm, distant sea. Two days. Two days they had been married, and he still couldn't get over the fact that they were married. That she had married him.
He hoped it wasn't all a cruel dream, that he would wake one day and discover her gone.
He had had enough nightmares to last a lifetime as it was.
No, he mustn't think like that, mustn't dwell on things he could not change. He closed his eyes and reached again for the Force, trying to ground his shifting emotions against its solid foundation.
The world exploded into focus around him, everything imbued with the glow of the Force. Birds, and animals, even the new queen's handmaidens, wandering around in the courtyard below.
But even engaging his mind in seeking the lighter things of life, the darker part of him still dwelt on the nightmares he had suffered the night before. He could still see those faces, frozen in fear.
He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the images. His forehead furrowed with the struggle. Gnarled, thin hands, fingers twisted like claws, reaching for him. Faces, twisted in anguish, eyes hollow and sightless, mouths open, a collective gaping maw that threaten to suck him in.
No. He pushed the dream images away and ground himself in the Force once again. Control, control, control. Just as Master Obi-Wan said. A deep, cleansing breath as he stretched out his senses. Captain Typho was awake, arguing with a lesser officer about a protestor that had somehow made it past the courtyard's perimeter. A sudden flare across his senses announced the arrival of the sun. He opened his eyes, allowing himself this one selfish pleasure. For no matter how beautiful the sun was in the Force, it would never compare to the real thing. The reds and pinks and oranges, the gradual shifting of colors, the subtlety of the entire process.
Another deep breath, this one of relief. Engaged in the beauty of the sun, the faces and stolen consciousnesses no longer haunted him. But he wondered, standing there alone in the glory of the sun, had his mother ever seen such beauty? Her life had been filled with nothing but struggle. In those last few years, with her husband and new family, had she finally found some measure of peace? Had she been able to stand on those sand dunes she had lived on her entire life and finally watch the twin suns of Tatooine rise and fall? Or had she been cruelly ripped away before she could even begin to enjoy her newfound freedom? He clenched his fist, anger and rage flooding though him again. Automatically, he closed his eyes and ground himself once more.
Screams, splitting the stillness of the night. The calm hum of his lightsaber, roaring with power every time he swung down. Again and again, like a terrible demon. He could see their faces, under their masks, the Force showing him everything he needed to know to find flesh and rend it from bone. Again and again his lightsaber flashed. Again and again. Again and again and-
A warm hand on his arm, and he barely restrained himself from attacking without thinking. Instead his eyes flew open and he shoved away from whoever had gotten so close to him without him noticing.
Padmé. Only Padmé.
Her hand fell, no longer on his arm. She was looking at him in concern, her eyes searching his face. "Anakin?" His very name a question.
He was gasping for breath, fighting off the images that assaulted him still.
Padmé. Relief flooded in on the heels of that single word. Her hair was unbound, cascading over her bare shoulders, her robe forgotten this time. Her bare feet poked out from underneath her nightgown and he realized he must of awaken her. Had he been sending his fear to her?
She was still looking at him. And those eyes, those dark brown eyes. Eyes that didn't look on him in fear, even after he had told her the terrible thing he had done. Eyes that didn't look on him in pity, like Master Windu's, eyes that didn't hold endless reproach, like Obi-Wan's. There was only wide, endless love in her warm brown eyes.
"What is it?" she asked, moving in front of him, hand reaching to touch his face.
He realized then, how terribly lost he would be without her. He couldn't live without her.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, feeling the lines of worry smooth beneath his lips.
"Nothing."
