"To suffering there is a limit; to fearing, none." -Sir Francis Bacon, Essays (1625) "Of Seditions and Troubles"
A/N: Oh look the second chapter. Which is actually more or less really the first chapter. But disregarding all that-I retitled the story to 'Malum Rêve' as you can presumably tell, which is Latin and French for 'bad dream,' respectively.
First off I kinda want to also apologize for what may seem like a general lack of action and progress in this chapter. That said, this also serves to set some sort of tone and establish the relationships that already exist so I don't really need to get into that so ah well blah blah why am I still talking because I can. And it's 2:30 AM; this note's not so good.
Uh, yeah. This chapter is...uh, well it's here.
Have fun with it.
Chapter I - Also Known as 'As Soon As I Say Hello I Have to Say Goodbye'
Padmé Amidala awoke in a flurry of sheets and perspiration, her hair plastered down her neck and back, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling above her. She panted once as she waited for the pounding of her heart to return to its normal state as it thudded in her ears, each beating in time with a flash of vivid imagery featuring the only man she fully trusted lying limp before her.
It wasn't until the roaring in her eardrums had died down a bit that she heard the water running in the refresher and realized that she'd just been a prisoner of her own nightmares rather than reality.
She rolled over onto her side, fingering the sheets molded to her husband's absent form, reveling in the way he could make her miss him even from just the other side of the wall.
For a few moments Padmé allowed herself to remain in the realm of blissfulness nothingness that followed the throes of an unpleasant dream before struggling to remind herself that lying back and curled up in bed is not something Padmé Amidala did on a daily basis. There were things to be done.
Padmé Skywalker, however, couldn't be bothered.
She'd been rolled over onto her side and cocooning herself further into the sheets when the water had ceased and Anakin reappeared, propelling himself back into the bed that was rightfully his with an impish grin as he shook his head, giving his wife a few droplets right in the eye.
Letting out a surprised shriek she reached a hand to her husband's bare chest in order to shove him away as she smirked in kind only to feel his natural fingers close around her palm while his artificial ones brought her closer. Padmé rested her head against him, tucking it under his chin and then found herself absently ghosting her fingers over his skin searching for any marred flesh or sign of injury.
Her forehead vibrated as he cleared his throat, shifting himself under her fingertips as they touched his side. She bit her lip to hold back the smile that threatened to split as she recalled the spot just below his ribcage being one of the more ticklish areas on his body. Padmé paused in her ministrations and brought her hand back, choosing instead to further bury her face into Anakin's chest and forget the things her mind's eye had bombarded her with.
To her dismay he pulled away of his own accord, and looking up at him she became well aware of the concern and the like evident in the blue eyes that typically held some sort of laughter reserved just for her.
"Padmé? Are you ok?" The worry in his voice cut away the few moments of blissful ignorance that she'd enveloped herself with and she struggled to keep herself from turning away or making up some sort of excuse to save face.
Instead, she gave him the only answer she could.
"I don't know." Anakin opened his mouth to press further, only for Padmé to carry on and cut him off. "I just had a dream Anakin; it's nothing to worry about."
The last bit was perhaps said more for herself, as obvious as it was.
"But it still bothers you." Her husband stated with the downward twitch of his brow.
"It did," Padmé responded, reaching up to brush her husband's damp hair away from his eye. "But it doesn't anymore. It's nothing more than my subconscious messing with me."
They let that settle between them before Anakin gave a slow nod; Padmé tried to look too relieved that he'd let it slide for the time being. He inclined his head toward her and brushed his lips against her temple, whispering bits of nothing against the skin that still had some hair plastered to it.
It wasn't until they were lying next to one another again after she'd coerced him into sleep pants rather than his towel that he spoke words he presumably should have kept to himself.
"I guess I'd rather you dream instead me."
It was as he said this that Padmé tore her gaze away from the ceiling for the second time, giving her husband an incredulous look that accompanied the frown dancing along the contours of her mouth.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He'd meant no harm by his words, but he still flinched at her tone. Anakin hadn't meant it in a manner that had suggested she ought to have the nightmares while he dozed in peace, so this only served as another instance where his poor word choice had granted Obi-Wan the title of 'The Negotiator' whilst he himself preferred to let his lightsaber do the talking.
"Padmé," He huffed, trying not to let his growing frustration with himself get the best of him. "Jedi don't dream." Anakin shifted, and the level of discomfort in the room reached an all-time high. "If anything they only have some twisted visions of things that they can hope to fix even though they really can't."
Her husband turned his head to face, interlocking her fingers with his enough for her feel the circuitry running between the mechanical tendons as she got a front row view of the bitterness and sorrow that was being only just held at bay somewhere in those irises of his.
His mood suddenly shifted and the twist of his mouth turned into another one of his grins saved for his wife while he rolled over, successfully pinning her down. Anakin gently ran the tip of his nose down the side of his face as he spoke against her cheek.
"But enough depressing things—about this dream of yours," The swift bend of his elbow brought a quick end to Padmé's attempt to wriggle out from under his makeshift prison, only adding more fire to his smirk. "Was I in it?"
Padmé had to let a laugh that sounded more like an exasperated scoff.
"Are you sure this so-called 'Hero With No Fear' isn't really a narcissist?"
She felt his teeth brush against her skin as his smile fully formed.
"Preach it to the choir, love." Anakin placed a kiss to the corner of her jaw and she granted him with an amused chuckle, choosing to wrap her arm around her husband's neck to pull him just a bit closer. Glancing up at him with lidded eyes she paused and he was then sure his brain probably would've exploded and he would have promised her anything if she would just come a little closer already.
"La," Padmé breathed against his lips. There was a throaty laugh before he took it upon himself to close the gap.
It was when his comm. link screamed to life that Anakin fell off the bed and nearly cracked his head open on the nightstand.
Padmé shoved her hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing and then practically flung herself across the bed in order to make sure there were no bloodstains to be removed from the carpet. Oh, and to make sure her husband's head was still intact, of course.
Anakin quickly popped back over the side, rested his chin on the mattress and gave his wife an otherwise blank look with still seated relatively comfortably for the most part on the floor.
"Why is it that Obi-Wan takes it upon himself to try to reach me whenever I'm with you? It's never when I'm in my own quarters—and I actually haven't been since the fire damage—, or when I'm off meandering around Coruscant because there's so much to do here, or even Force-forbid when I'm in the 'fresher.'" He shook his head, effectively creasing the sheet beneath his jaw. "I swear, sometimes it's like he knows."
Padmé gave him a wry smile as she once again brushed hair from his eyes, her gaze flitting to the small device that was still pleading for its all too familiar presence to be heard. "Aren't you going to answer that?"
His expression shifted into that of a raised eyebrow and rather curious look. "Are you trying to get rid of me, milady?"
"It's just that my husband will be here soon…" She responded in a fairly coy manner just for him. "And he is a Jedi."
Anakin's mouth formed into a small 'o' as he feebly tried to keep the amusement from spreading across his face. "A Jedi, huh? I wonder what'll happen when he finds another man in your bedchambers."
He propelled himself back onto the mattress and landed beside his wife, causing her to bounce while his comm. link continued to scream while he blatantly ignored it. Padmé's own eyebrows rose as she tried to keep her look rather placid.
"I'm sure he'll probably have a brain hemorrhage."
Anakin gave her a look as she let out an airless chuckle and he withheld the urge to stick his tongue out at her for all of half a second. Placing his hand to his temple and then pulling it away as he mimed a small explosion he reached for one of his only means of communication and was gifted with the exasperated voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi the moment his finger slid across the button.
"—Anakin, where the blazes have you been?"
Said man let that linger in the air for a moment before choosing his words.
"I was taking a shower. I wasn't aware that doing so required your permission. Maybe next time I'll ask, and no you're not invited."
Padmé hid her face in her hands with a groan to her husband's off-handed shrug. They could both visualize the blank look on his former Master's face.
"I don't—Anakin what in the hells of Mustafar—" There was the sound of an annoyed Obi-Wan puffing air out of his mouth and trying to check his emotions in check with a muffled 'Force give me strength' while he tried to regain his composure. "I don't even know what to do with you anymore."
"You haven't given up on me, have you?" Anakin joked, moving to stand as Padmé's hand graced the side of his arm, causing him to pause. He turned to look at her, nodding once to the look that clearly told him to rein himself in before Obi-Wan himself had the brain hemorrhage.
"No, this is just one of those moments where I regret not having handed you over to Master Windu to train." Kenobi himself quipped, by now easily past his former Padawan's off-color comment.
"Yeah, because that would have gone well." Skywalker replied with a huff, glancing around the room and then back at his wife who in turn pointed to a fairly modest bureau across from the bed.
"Yes, perhaps he would have taught you how to hold your tongue and learn a few manners." The grin could be heard in his statement and the man from Tatooine gave humorless 'ha ha.'
"Maybe he would have taught me how to be bald and frown too." Anakin retorted, mouthing a 'thanks' to Padmé—who rolled her eyes with a smirk—and shifting through the now opened bureau, looking for some clean clothes that belonged to him. It took a moment for that last bit of what Obi-Wan had said to register. "Hey, I only belched once at the dinner table and you laughed. You even responded with your own!"
"Anakin, we were off-world and it was customary to thank our hosts in that manner. What wasn't customary was the sudden chorus of belches you apparently thought were necessary."
"I don't see how it was customary to try to get me drunk either, and if I recall correctly you weren't exactly all that sober yourself. And it's your fault that…thing hit on me." Skywalker grumbled while exchanging his sleep pants for the ones he typically wore. Padmé bit her lip to keep her laughter from being overheard by the other man on the comm. link.
"The chief's daughter had taken a liking to you, and if it was going to keep us from being eaten alive then I was going to go for it. You technically weren't drunk either, considering the non-alcoholic drinks you'd been having." Obi-Wan stated the occurrence as if he saw no harm in the manner, obviously pleased with the way he was messing with Anakin's head—something they'd taken to doing to one another over the years.
"So I'm a human sacrifice then? Thanks." Anakin shoved his under tunic on and then fumbled with his outer layers, trying not to drop his belt in the process. "I mean, I was fourteen! She was what, eight hundred?"
"Eight hundred and thirty-seven, actually. Her kind marries young, apparently."
The Jedi Knight could feel his wife's grimace from where he stood sliding his clothes on, gritting his teeth at the not overly fond memory of his. His own frown was buried within the folds of cloth that had chosen not to go over his head.
"Marries young, what a load of poodoo—Ow!" He hissed violently and cursed under his breath, nursing his wounded shin, all but hopping away from the bureau and sitting back on the edge of the bed. "Why is it that the only things these are good for is finding furniture in the dark?"
"You bashed your shin again, didn't you?" Obi-Wan's voice came after the muttered inquiry of Anakin, the latter of which was now passing over his newly acquired injury to shove his boots on.
"How'd you know?" Padmé made her way over to her husband silently, wrapping her arms around her husband's shoulders. She handed him the gloves he'd been glancing around for wordlessly.
"Because you say that every time you bash your shins. Or elbows, for that matter." Obi-Wan's matter-of-fact tone was fairly clear, yet there was still the underlying annoyance in his voice that Anakin was reluctantly picking up on.
"I'm beginning to think you know me too well." Anakin's head tilted away just slightly as the missus rested her chin upon the junction between his neck and shoulder. "Which wing are you in?"
"East. Anakin you told me you'd be here by now and you know the Council isn't going to wait forever…" The suddenly stern voice of the Jedi Master was lost on the couple as Anakin glanced back at his wife and planted a quick kiss to the side of her face.
As a result of her refusal to let go, the nicknamed 'Hero With No Fear' was sure to give his friend a quick,
"Give me five minutes."
Anakin was adjusting his belt and clothing for the umpteenth time when he came across his former Master giving his view of the outside world a rather severe look.
"I'm sure if you glare at the smog long enough it'll vanish." Anakin said, finding some amusement in the idea of catching Obi-Wan off guard.
The Council member wasn't going to have any of it, looking over at the younger man with a grin as his hand went to his beard.
"I suppose you could try that. Not the most ingenious method I've ever heard, but if you could make it work I'm sure many people would be pleased." He tried to ignore Anakin's sneer at his jest. "You're early."
The man's brow furrowed for a moment. "I thought you said…" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "The Council wasn't going to wait forever. Besides, you only call me when I'm late or it's an emergency. I'm beginning to think this isn't one."
"I thought we'd try something new today. You being a few minutes early for something or going an hour without something exploding won't kill you, I'll have you know." Kenobi blatantly ignored the eye roll he received as Skywalker stalked to the window.
"Fine then, what's on the agenda for today—watching speeders go by? Who do you think is going fastest and going to crash first? Give me something to work with here please; I'm pulling at straws." Obi-Wan let out a breath and came to stand beside his friend. "I was asleep."
"I thought you said you were taking a shower?"
"I was multi-tasking," Anakin quickly covered, glad the light coming in from the window only highlighted his profile from where his former Master stood. "Haven't you ever taken a quick shower while half-asleep?"
"I don't even want to know how, nor do I want to know why," Obi-Wan muttered, folding his arms.
"It might be best if you didn't."
"Shall we leave it at that then?"
"Yes, let's."
The duo grinned at one another, pleased at the idea that time doesn't change all things—perhaps one more so than the other—, including the wit and banter that had accompanied their relationship. There was a moment of silence before Obi-Wan broke it and spoke.
"The Council will be meeting now—they have some new assignment for us." He turned and began to walk away with the expectation that Anakin would follow—which he did. "Where is your Padawan, by the way?"
"In her quarters or hanging around with Bariss last I knew," Came the reply along with the shuffle of feet as he picked up his pace to walk side-by-side. "Why, should she probably be at this meeting?"
"It wouldn't hurt if she was, but it also wouldn't hurt if she wasn't. Apparently this is more for the two of us anyhow." Obi-Wan cast a side-long glance at Anakin who seemed neither pleased nor disappointed.
"Yeah well, she's missing another riveting meeting. Her loss." Kenobi paused and gestured for the other Jedi to enter the chambers before him while they waited for the rest of the Council to convene. It was apparently left to Anakin to wander aimlessly around the room staring at everything in near wonder.
"Someday, Anakin…" Obi-Wan murmured, stepping into the rounded room and letting the door slid behind him. Said man had obviously picked up on the other's words, pausing in his wandering to glancing up and over at him.
"What?"
Obi-Wan raised hand to wave it off, brutally setting aside an unsettling thought that had flitted through his mind and gave Anakin a soft smile of his.
"Nothing, Anakin. Nothing at all."
A few kilometers away Padmé Amidala remained seated to the edge of her bed with her sheet wrapped around her, fingering the Japor snippet looped around her neck and trying to fight the unnerving knot growing in the pit of her stomach.