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~~~ ARC I ~~~
- CHAPTER 1: CONFORMATION -
Anakin's more 'permanent quarters' end up being a two roomed apartment of sorts with a small living area and bedroom that had its own personal fresher, all three that bore the same colored furniture and decor - white and gray - which seemed to be a very liked theme by Sidious. Which he finds slightly surprising; he figured the Chancellor to be more of an onyx and crimson fan. Not that he will complain, he's quite relieved to be out of the confines of that dreadful cell he had been chained in.
He has noticed though that his side has been bandaged since he was downed by the two clones, which means that Sidious had ordered them to take him to a medical facility of some kind. He frowns. But why? He's in perfect condition, making an escape much more likely. Not to mention the small fact that his wrists and ankles have been left unbound. Though, unfortunately, his lightsaber and belt (the home of many handy devices) has been confiscated. Still yet, he has the Force - and clones are no use against it.
Anakin sighs, pausing in the middle of his pacing to glance out of the bay window in the living area (shielded by a pale blue veil). His clothes are no longer his typical brown and black Jedi robes, but an entirely black uniform of kinds that consists of a long-sleeved shirt with a high collar that is belted at the waist, pants, and matching boots. There's even a cap, but he doesn't sport it. Instead it lays discarded on one of nightstands in the bedroom. He never has been a hat kind of guy anyways.
The oddest addition to his new attire is the small, rectangular golden name-tag that has 'Skywalker' written in black lettering. It's too formal to be prisoner wear. Unless Sidious has decided to invest a small fortune in manufacturing such fine clothing for the inmates across the galaxy. Which, really, is unlikely.
More than likely it's simply a ploy to get Anakin to feel comfortable and as if Sidious actually cares about him. Both of which he knows not to feel. The only way he will do what Sidious requests of him, is if he has some sort of leverage over him. And the only leverage he could ever hold over Anakin is Padme and the baby. Obi-Wan is gone.
The Jedi purses his lips together tightly and picks up his pacing once again, circling the room with his light azure gaze focused on the pale gray carpet beneath his boots, his hands tucked tightly behind his back. As far as he can tell, Padme's presence in the Force has all but faded from Coruscant; a good sign that she has left for Naboo (which in her condition should be the only place she would travel to - though he's not certain as his wife is known for random spouts of spontaneity).
Whatever the case - and reason, he is relieved that his wife has decided to pack up and leave Coruscant. It means that there is less likely a chance that Sidious will get his hands on her and use her against him. Because, though he despises to admit such a weakness, he would do anything to keep her and the baby safe - even kill innocents. He needs her. He loves her - them. Without Padme and the baby, he is nothing.
Anakin is brought from his thoughts when the thick metal door to his room opens and in steps Sidious - appearing more like the man he grew up around, clothed in a fine black uniform trimmed with gold and a billowing cape to match. His face is not as wrinkled and softer in expression, his eyes a bright shade of blue instead of an intense hue of ruby and gold.
The door shuts silently behind the Chancellor - Anakin knows he cannot combat the Sith at the moment. His eyes flicker to the lightsaber attached to Sidious's belt then back to his face, his jaw clenched tight as he halts walking about once again.
"How have you taken to your new accommodations?" he questions in a pleasant tone that reminds Anakin of the days when he was a young boy and sought comfort from the very man before him. He knots his eyebrows together on his forehead and remains silent. Sidious doesn't like the silence however and adds: "I apologize for your prior containment. It was inhumane. Improper."
Anakin scowls. "You don't mean that."
"I do." Sidious insists, shaking his head slowly, a sympathetic look settling in the depths of his irises. "After Master Windu attacked me, I wasn't too certain of your loyalties. Which is why I asked you to join me. You have always been the one Jedi that I have trust the most . . ."
"Ha, still yet, why would you harm me and have me thrown into a cell? I don't see how that advocated your want to have me as an ally." he demands, crossing his arms. Sidious sighs and moves past him, taking a seat on the sofa.
"A ruse. A way to get you out of harm's way." he answers simply, all tension and deceit void in his voice. "The Jedi were turning against the Republic, desiring nothing more than to overthrow me," he says, "I had to execute Order 66 to preserve the Republic. But I knew you were not aware of their plans. Therefore, I had to detain you in order to save you."
"Did the Senate allow such a course of action?" he spits out.
"The Senate gave me the ability to make such an action, Anakin," he points out calmly. His words are true, the Senate had voted twice to grant Sidious as much power as needed to keep the people and the Republic safe. They voted away their own rights - their own authority. "They even have voted for the Republic to transcend into an Empire - with me as its Emperor."
Anakin's eyes widen. He cannot believe what he has heard. That would explain Padme's sudden absence on Coruscant - he is well aware of her disdain for Sidious and his rule - his decisions.
"I . . . it passed?"
Sidious bobs his head. "Yes, it passed before I even spoke with you yesterday night." he elaborates, lifting one leg and placing it over the other, his back straight and hands resting in his lap gracefully. He adds: "I want you to be the right hand of the Empire, Anakin."
His words effect Anakin. He blinks rapidly a few times and he starts circling around the room once again. Can he truly accept such a position of power? Padme would scold him for advocating a dictatorship over democracy - and Obi-Wan would reprimand him for having dealings with a Sith - one that annihilated a majority of the Jedi Order.
It feels wrong to consider Sidious's words . . . but he is right in saying that the Jedi were undermining his authority - trying to remove him - and there is no laws against a Sith or Force-sensitive leading the Republic - or Empire. Not to mention that his own faith in the Jedi had been shaken on numerous occasions (how many times have they acted wary of him? Or degraded him? Held him back?).
Nor can Anakin deny that he has never been the Jedi that he should be; he's ruled by his emotions. He's too passionate - and he is inclined to become attached to others. Especially parental figures and a certain Naboo Senator. He is quick to anger and seek vengeance. He has tried to change his ways, but he finds that it is easier to cave and give into his desires than to try and resist, which has only brought him more pain. Either path is a door way to the dark side.
Perhaps he is meant to be a Sith. He is too flawed for the light side. Too imperfect - and perfection is, what it seems, what the light seeks. The Jedi only desired the emotionless - beings like Master Yoda that could send a group of people off to kill or betray those closest to them with little (maybe even none) guilt settling on their conscience. But Anakin cannot conform to such ways. He values others too much. He is more the type that tries to save everyone - not leave them behind to ensure the success of a mission.
"Why me . . ?" he finally manages to ask, his voice cracked - unsure. He's certain that Sidious has sensed his hesitancy as he shifts slightly, his back relaxing against the back of the sofa in a more casual manner.
"Because I want - need - someone that I can trust with my life," pause, "and to pass my teachings on to. I desire one that can take my place as Emperor when I die - a legacy. Someone with great potential, leadership, strength, and experience."
Anakin cannot help but feel lured by his words. "And you think . . ." he trails off. Sidious nods and motions encouragingly for him to continue. "You think I am all those things?"
"Yes, Anakin. I do." he says. "As I have said many times before, you are like a grandson to me. As such, you are the only one I have confidence in to be able to carry this heavy burden. And my prior actions, were only meant to protect you - while others, such as harming you, were of anger. I only wanted you to see my ways. Can you not understand my frustrations?"
Oh, Anakin can, and he does, because he becomes just as infuriated when he cannot convey his views adequately to others. Especially when it was expressing beliefs to Obi-Wan. Mostly because the other Jedi insisted on following up any belief Anakin expressed with lectures or questions. Though, a part of himself acknowledged that Obi-Wan only did as such to get him to analyse his views from all angles in an attempt for both of them to understand them in more depth.
Still yet, it was annoying. And to reminiscence such petty things made his heart ache for one more lecture. He still can't believe Obi-Wan is dead . . .
Which brings up the premonition that the Force gifted him yesterday in Sidious's office. He closes his eyes, recalling the contours of Padme's face as he strangled her with the Force - along with that disgusting thrill that he had felt in response. The dark side had influenced him to commit such horrible acts. He had completely disregarded his wife's well-being along with their baby's. It had mortified him then - and it haunts him now.
"I - I can't join the dark side." he declares, opening his eyes. Sidious's face becomes pinched as he gets to his feet.
"The light has no more to offer you - how can you save Padme?"
"The dark side will influence me to kill her. That's not what I want." Anakin snaps in response, "Besides, what has even become of her since the Empire has rose? Has the Senate been disbanded?"
"Through me you can learn how to control the dark side." Sidious retorts fervently. Anakin narrows his gaze. He won't give the Emperor his way - and Sidious can see that. He snarls and adds: "The Senate is still in-tact. But your wife has graciously stepped down from the position and returned to Naboo."
Anakin visibly relaxes. Padme is safe. Their baby is safe. And they are both out of the Emperor's grasp. For now.
"I see you will need some time to consider my words." Sidious remarks, heading for the door. "Lunch will be sent shortly. I'll be returning later to discuss our situation further."
Anakin watches silently as he steps out into the hallway and pauses. He tilts his head over his shoulder. "I don't want you to feel like a prisoner here, Anakin."
"Then let me leave." he replies, leaving out the 'so I can go to my wife' part.
"I'm afraid that if I did as such, every bounty hunter and civilian would be hunting you down." Sidious responds softly. Anakin arches his eyebrows.
"Why's that?"
"Because they believe the Jedi to be traitors."
Anakin narrows his blue gaze dangerously, his lips twisting into a snarl. "Because of you!"
"No," he retorts, "because of their own actions and deception. It truly was only a matter of time before their treachery was discovered." Anakin goes silent, adverting his stare to the ground. "I had expected - as did you - for a long while that their ways, their code, had expired years prior. They were merely abusing their authority and prolonging a cause that had an unquenchable desperation for change - change that Master Yoda would not allow."
"I . . ." Anakin begins, but trails off, at a loss for words. How can he defend the Jedi when his feelings correspond with Sidious's? The mandates that they are required to follow are long past due a renewal. He had watched Obi-Wan suffer in order to obey them - he knows his Master had strong feelings for Satine Kryze that he chose to ignore for his duty - and he himself has felt the repercussions of such demanding orders. But unlike his Master, he disobeyed and followed his heart.
"Not allowing that change," Sidious interjects, successfully regaining Anakin's attention, "is ultimately what caused the Jedi Order to fall apart."
It's the third week of fall on Naboo, and as Padme expected, it is very cold. She tugs her thick cloak closer to her body with her left hand - as her right is occupied by a large suitcase - grateful she chose to wear it to hide her protruding abdomen and that she had decided to sport a down hairdo. Unfortunately, the bitter breeze that graces the lush land, still nips at the delicate skin of her hands and face, which no doubt has her nose and cheeks turned pink.
In the distance, not too far from where she was dropped off, she can see her parents' house, looming and beautiful, yet not as extravagant as the houses that are based directly outside the Theed Palace. Two floors standing - three if you count the basement - with a modern golden look about it. It's a house that a working-class family strives for and appreciates once obtained. And she feels as if she hasn't seen it in years.
A part of Padme wants to pick up the pace of her walking on the cobblestone street below, yet the other half demands that she stay steady. Her family does not know of her pregnancy - nor are they even aware that she has been involved with a man. Her mother, Jobal, has been down her throat to retire from politics since she stepped down as queen and start a family - like her sister, Sola. Yet, she knew she could not do such a thing. The Republic needed her.
Now - she drops her cocoa hued gaze to the ground below, a stray strand of chocolate hair caressing her cheek as she pauses in mid-step - all that she has worked so hard to preserve, has crumbled and slipped through her tiny fingers. The Republic - Democracy - has been stripped from the galaxy and from its ashes, an Empire, with an overly controlling man with little-to-no mercy as its leader, has been born. Her hand drifts to her stomach.
And her husband has possibly died in the Jedi purge.
Padme cuffs her freehand over her mouth and releases a muffled sound that's the equivalent of a sob, tears beginning to line her vision. Everything she loves has fallen apart. If Anakin were here, he might be able to sooth her, tell her that everything would be alright - that the Republic could still be saved. She sniffles.
Anakin has always been an idealist, while she is a realist; much more practical and pragmatic in the way things are, while he would remark about how they should be, though most of the time his views were too far out of reach. But she needs him to be that way. To balance her out. To see the world through his eyes is to realize that there is still some good worth fighting for - that's derived from his passionate nature. While seeing it her way, is sometimes to view it through a telescope, narrow and in-depth; pessimistically if you will, but much more realistic - and that derives from her calmer and focused nature.
Goodness, Padme misses her husband so much it physically ails her.
She desires nothing more than to be in his strong arms again, her head tucked up under his chin, eyes closed, the sound of his heartbeat fluttering in her ear. Then they would pull away and stare onto one another's face, blue meeting brown, before his lips would find purchase upon her forehead in an affectionate greeting. She would then melt back into his embrace and they would be content in just that moment - that small respite from the horrors going on around them.
But - she digresses - as a realist, she knows there's a good possibility that she will never feel his arms circle her again, or see his smile, or gaze into his baby blue irises that burn with the hottest of flames, or hear her name roll off of his tongue softly in his deep voice, laced with his love for her and their child that is growing steadily within her.
She can only hope that Anakin - her Ani - has somehow managed to escape the Jedi purge - and have the faith to know that he will find his way back to her. To their family.
Padme is startled from her internal reverie, when a hand grasps her shoulder from behind. She gasps and jerks out of the hold, turning on her heels to face the offender - only to see a familiar face. "Father." she greets breathlessly, a puff of mist emerging past her lips from the action. His azure eyes light up, the corners of his lips pulled taut as he opens his arms to her. She wastes no time in dropping her luggage to the ground and throwing herself into his embrace.
"My beautiful daughter," he murmurs, tightening his arms around her. She is relieved when he doesn't comment about her protruding stomach and instead, relents his hold and picks up her suitcase, his grin still in-tact. He asks: "I take it you retired then?"
Padme blushes and breaks their connected stare, focusing ahead on the family house as they begin walking towards it - and slowly at that. She knows her father well enough to be fully aware when he is inquiring something else than what he verbally requests. Which in this case, he is referring to her pregnancy. She only takes his pleasant expression as one of relief.
Her parents know of the looming threat that hovers over her head on a daily basis. As such, to them, no doubt, her pregnancy will be a blessing - a way for her to settle down and dutifully attend to something other than politics.
"Yes," she answers, resting her cold hands at her sides. "I have no desire to serve the Empire."
She doesn't miss the sharp look Ruwee shoots her way in response. "I wouldn't voice your opinions so openly, Padme." he says, softly, indicating that he isn't reprimanding her, but merely warning her, "the Emperor would have your head."
The twenty-eight-year-old purses her lips together tightly; a stoic look etching itself onto her visage. "I'm afraid that I just can't sit back and watch the galaxy be ruled by someone so corrupt." Ruwee opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off and adds: "There has to be a group of people willing to fight for those who can't fight for themselves. Those that are too afraid to change their position."
"Yes, and well, you have done enough." he snips, "I am sick of worrying about whether or not my daughter is going to return home to me on a funeral pyre. It's too much . . . and you have sacrificed enough of your life to the public - to the galaxy."
Padme's expression softens. "Fath - dad, I know you and mom worry about me." she says, "But I am aware of the risks. It's just . . . I can make a difference. I know I can."
"But - "
"And if I am able to do as such, am I not obligated to do so?"
With that Ruwee becomes silent and opts to shift his stare straight forward as well, a slight frown appearing on his thin lips. Padme isn't ignorant, she knows when her father is quiet, he is upset - and he clearly is currently upset. Whenever concerning the health of his family, he gets this way . . .
One of Padme's hands subconsciously slide back up to her stomach. Perhaps she is being hypocritical. If it were her and Anakin's son - yes, she still is convinced she is having a boy - she would be just as protective. She already has so much love for her son - for Luke - that she cannot imagine him getting injured or threatened as she and Anakin are. The thought alone suffocates her.
"How far along are you?" Ruwee finally inquires. The corners of her mouth quirk upward, a distant look flashing through her eyes.
"Eight months." she answers, rubbing her stomach fondly. She doesn't miss the way her father's smile returns to his face.
"Do you know what it is? I plan on spoiling my grandchild." he trills. Padme chuckles.
"Well, I want it to be a surprise. But I'm certain that it's a boy - Luke."
Ruwee arches an eyebrow. "A mother's intuition?"
Another soft laughter passes through her frame as she nods. "I guess you could say that."
"Your mother and sister will be ecstatic."
Padme calms and bobs her head slowly. Her father's words are very much the truth. Jobal and Sola will be relieved to know that her political duties will have to be pushed to the side for awhile in preparation for Luke's arrival. She already knows she will stay at her family's Lake Retreat and set up the nursery there (she already has a lovely pastel blue theme in mind). But in the meanwhile, she will stay with her parents. She does not desire to be alone at the moment.
Not with her fears - nor her thoughts.
When father and daughter reach the Naberrie family house, they pause on the street, just outside a steel gate wedged between stone fences. Ruwee presses a button engraved into the left stone fence directly beside the gate, and a moment later the steel starts to screech in protest as its bolts move to let the duo in.
Padme is the first to enter upon gentlemanly instance enforced by her father, and is overwhelmed by a nostalgic feeling that spreads a warmth throughout her chest. She can see a familiar small greenhouse to the left of the house, the stone walkway that leads up to the porch, and an a lovely woman standing in the doorway entrance, her face, though slightly wrinkled with age, still beauitful and baring a stunning smile that reaches her opal gaze.
"Mom!" Padme greets, rushing - though carefully so - down the path to Jobal. She is met at the bottom of the porch steps by her mother, whom wraps her in her arms securely and bites back a sob.
"Oh, my precious Padme," she coos, rubbing the back of Padme's head gently, "I have been so worried about you with the uprising of the Empire. Why didn't you tell us you were coming home?"
The former queen draws away from her mother and opens her mouth to speak - only for Ruwee to interject from behind her: "Let's discuss this inside. It's rather cold outside, dear."
"Yes, yes." Jobal chirps, taking her daughter's hand and guiding her up the steps and to the front door, Ruwee hot-on-their-heels with Padme's suitcase still in-hand.
Once inside, Padme cannot help but feel relieved to see that the house hasn't changed in the past several months; the holopics that line the top of the fireplace are familiar, the elegant wooden furniture is the same and placed where it always has been, there's that bookshelf she had tipped over by accident when she was twelve, and even the scent is the same - warm and like cinnamon.
Jobal coaxes her gently to the couch where they both sit down. Ruwee remains standing and nods his head in the direction of the stairs. "I'll take this up to your room, Padme."
"Thank you, dad." she chimes, silence ensuing afterwards. She soon discovers why, when she glances at Jobal's face then slowly follows her downcast gaze to her stomach. She sighs. Her mother is usually blunt, however, she must be stunned into silence currently. She decides to answer her mother's questioning eyes with a verbal response: "Yes, I'm pregnant."
Jobal settles deeply against the couch, blinks, and slowly gives a slight nod. "I can see this. How far?"
"Eight months, I think it's a boy - and if my tuition is correct, he will be called Luke." she answers, getting the basics out of the way. Her mother shifts, an excited glint appearing in her coffee hued irises.
"What about it if it's a girl?" Jobal inquires, clasping her hands together over her chest in a giddy manner. Padme cannot prevent the smile that reaches her visage. She recalls clearly what name Anakin said he wanted for the girl he is - was? - convinced that she is having. It's funny that because he thought their baby a girl, while she a boy, they decided that they would pick the name of the gender they assumed it to be.
"Leia." she responds quietly as she closes her eyes and leans back beside her mother, her warmth comforting. She imagines a little girl like her in appearance, yet with a fiery personality that is very much like her father's, smiling and climbing into Anakin's lap, determined to hear a bedtime story. And Anakin eventually caves, because he cannot resist her cute pout and pleas.
It's an idealistic thought. One that seems more fitting of Anakin than herself. She never has been one to concentrate on a future that is improbable - or think that's how things are meant to be. But here she is, imagining a perfect family with a man that is possibly dead.
She only hopes it does not come back to bite her.
Her mother's hand wrapping around her own and giving a slight squeeze brings her a welcome assurance that, somehow, things will be okay.
It's Emperor Palpatine's leering face that Obi-Wan Kenobi awakens to - and it's not pleasant. The Jedi Master jerks against his chains in surprise and gives a slight frown. He does not like being sneaked up on - especially by Sith Lords with genocidal tendencies like the one before him. Palpatine doesn't seem the least bit surprised however and leans back on his heels, pacing about the chilly cell he has been detained in.
He wonders again how he got in this dreadful situation . . .
It's simple, really. He had been obeying his orders to go to Geonosis and eliminate General Grievous. Which had been a success. Unfortunately, he received a blaster shot to the knee afterwards and was brought back to Coruscant where he was locked up in a cell and told that his fellow Jedi have been slain due to the Chancellor-turned-Emperor's suspicion of treason. What a reward.
Obi-Wan won't deny that is the most devastating news he has ever been on the receiving end of - because it truly is. His friends and allies are all gone now. But none hurt as much as the loss of the child he raised - Anakin. Shamefully, he can only blame himself for the pain that he now is suffering. Had he been a true - diligent and dedicated - Jedi, he would not allowed himself to feel such an attachment to the other Jedi. He should have learned his lesson after the pain he felt when Qui-Gon died.
But Anakin . . . he had been a child that needed him after leaving behind his mother - that offered love and affection willingly. He still recalls the moment when the fine line between master and father had been blurred . . .
It all began when he was awoke in the middle of the night . . .
Obi-Wan Kenobi is not intelligently daft, therefore, he knew when he was in a tight place, and staring into this child's innocent, big baby blue irises, he knows he has been had. It takes all that he can to avert his gaze from the child and to the bland whiteness of the wall just above his head to break the trance those irises inspire in him, because he has never been in a situation where a child has made such a request of him. One that he is actually considering nonetheless.
He notices the child tug uncomfortably at the sleeves of his night robes and a moment later opens his mouth again, and Obi-Wan can only hope he won't make the same inquiry: "P-Please, M-Master."
Obi-Wan sighs with exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. "Anakin, you are nine-years-old, when you have a nightmare, you are to release your anxieties into the Force through meditation. I have shown you how. There is no excuse."
"I-I know, b-but I'm s-scared." Anakin murmurs, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth, his hands trembling at his sides. The sight before Obi-Wan is enough to get him to mentally pray to the Force that he can pull through this with his sanity still in-tact.
It's only been two months since Anakin came to be in his care, only two months - a horribly long two at that - since his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, joined the Force, and he had yet to pull himself back together, and a clingy, homesick child is not helping. Though, he knows training the boy in the ways of the Jedi was Qui-Gon's dying wish and he refuses to disappoint him as he still respects and cares for the man - he just does not feel prepared for the task - or even qualified for that matter.
The only other life-form he had the honor of taking care of was a pet fish that died because he neglected to feed it. Now, if he fails to feed Anakin, the repercussions will be a lot worse, because he cannot just sigh and flush Anakin down the toilet, and he is human. Of course, Anakin would probably be more vocal than a fish and actually tell him when he requires sustenance, but that's besides the point.
It's just . . . he received a padawan before he was even knighted himself.
His Master is dead . . .
He desperately needs guidance . . .
And it is all happening so fast. His world is crashing down around his feet and he doesn't know how to pick up the pieces, let alone help Anakin pick up the pieces of his own crumbling world. The boy has just been whisked away from his mother's loving arms and thrown onto a planet that's cold, forced to accept ridicule from the other Jedi's condescending stares and whispers due to his unconventional initiation. Obi-Wan tries to shelter him, defend him, because he knows that must hurt. Just as he knows the pain of missing a parental figure.
The Jedi Code forbids attachments. It's a prominent mandate and stressed. Still yet, even he had failed to stay true to the mandate, having formed a strong bond with Qui-Gon, whom he came to view as a father. Though they weren't nearly as close as what Anakin is requesting of him. Of course, he was four years older than Anakin when he became Qui-Gon's padawan. It would have been rather odd for him to ask Qui-Gon what Anakin is asking of him.
That's not the point however.
Obi-Wan does not know how to properly handle his current dilemma. It's not even that difficult really, except he is a Jedi Knight forbidden to become attached to anything - be it animal or human - and he knows, deep within himself, that if he let's Anakin have his way, and he permits him to crawl into his bed and fall asleep, that it will probably happen again, and each time he will feel more comfortable. Closer. Attached.
After the dark void that Qui-Gon has left behind in his heart, he doesn't want to ever feel attachment again. The tragedy has made him realize the err of his ways. To allow himself to possibly be placed in the same situation, causes another forbidden emotion to rear its ugly head: fear. A strong emotion that is a path to the dark side.
For Force-sake, he thinks, wearily rubbing a hand over his face.
Sith Lords? Oh, please, give him double of that with a side of vengeance and he'll have them mutilated in no time with the help of his trusty lightsaber. But shove a mischievous nine-year-old into his arms? Please, take it back to wherever it came from. He wants nothing to do with that - or rather he doesn't know what to do with that.
"Please . . . Master . . ." Anakin whimpers again, coaxing Obi-Wan back to reality. The older of the two blinks and gazes back into Anakin's big blue orbs, gulping when he realizes how dreadfully sad, hopeful, and yet ashamed the child looks. He is obviously uncomfortable making such a request. He quickly conduces his mother must have allowed him such a comfort on Tatooine after waking her due to a troublesome night terror and is used to such treatment.
Obi-Wan feels the wall that separates them, crack ever-so-slightly (or is that just his will power?).
Then again, it could be due to the fact that he is tired . . .
And he doesn't necessarily feel like being harsh with Anakin . . .
And look at those eyes . . .
He is just a kid after all. One that needs comfort. One that's not use to enduring the Jedi way where keeping everyone at arms length is appraised and wearing your heart on your sleeve is scowled upon. Anakin wants his mother, but he can't have that, and he needs Obi-Wan - he's the only one on Coruscant he can rely on now - the only one responsible for his guidance and protection.
He'll probably regret this. But at the moment, he just decides to block out the incessant nagging in the back of his mind that constantly chants the Jedi Code like a mantra. "Fine, just this one time, understood?" he informs him sternly as he lifts the heavy duvet he's under to allow the child access.
Anakin's face instantly brightens and he nods before he clambers eagerly into Obi-Wan's bed and wiggles about until he is comfortable: which just so happens to be curled up into Obi-Wan's side - and snugly so.
The Jedi Knight is tense from the action and at first doesn't know how to react, never having experienced something of the magnitude. What would Qui-Gon say? He'd probably just laugh and think it was adorable. He always was more open to love and expressing affection than others. Which was one of many reasons the Jedi Council constantly questioned him and refused to let him become a fellow councilmen.
Qui-Gon definitely would have been able to handle this situation with more clarity and sense than he could. He wouldn't have let Anakin have his way, that much is certain. He would have had the words that would have prompted the child back to his own room. But Obi-Wan is not Qui-Gon . . .
Obi-Wan's blue-gray stare drifts down to the child curled against him, his eyes shut, and his face relaxed with a peaceful expression. A portion of a second later, his breathing evens out and he is fast asleep.
"I have a bad feeling about this . . ." Obi-Wan murmurs very quietly as to not wake the child beside him, his muscles losing all their tension as he buries the back of his head against the fluff of his pillow, eyelids closing gently.
What has he gotten himself into?
And Obi-Wan still wonders what he has gotten himself into. Anakin is or was like a son - a brother - and a best friend to him. Knowing that he may be dead haunts the back of his mind. It's as if he has somehow failed him as a Master. Which, really, he has failed himself. If Anakin is dead, then he should be content and acknowledge that he has merged with the Force - where he will no longer come to harm.
Still . . .
"Do you know why you're here, Kenobi?" Palpatine suddenly inquires, bringing from his pondering. Obi-Wan blinks and lifts his heavy head up, his eyes shifting slowly to the Emperor's scowling face.
"I'm afraid not. Care to elaborate?" he quips calmly while managing to disregard the pain in his wrists as the cuffs of his chains dig in deeply and tear the tender flesh. Palpatine's brow creases with wrinkles, his mouth twisting into a less menacing frown. Is that a good sign?
"Leverage." he answers tightly. Obi-Wan knots his eyebrows together on his forehead.
How could he possibly be leverage? The Jedi Order is all but extinct and the only politicians that he truly has a relationship of sorts with is Padme Amidala and Bail Organa - both of which that are too smart to be baited by living leverage such as himself. He would not want them to. But if it is not leverage against them, then whom?
"Leverage?" he pitches tersely. Palpatine bobs his head."Against whom, if I may ask? Because I'm afraid I'm not as valuable as you portray me to be."
"Oh, but you are." he retorts lightly, "Especially to someone who relies on their attachments far too much."
Obi-Wan blinks and pushes his lips into a straight line. "I still do not know what you are implying."
Palpatine smirks, his blue eyes swirling with red and yellow. "Anakin." he clarifies, invading Obi-Wan's personal space with a single stride, his face just inches away from the other's, a glare marring his features. "You are leverage against Anakin."
Obi-Wan stills, surprised. Anakin's alive then - that much is certain - unless Palpatine is lying. But why would he? It has never been a secret that he has an interest in Anakin and his career . . .
"Why?" he questions.
"I want Anakin to be the right hand of the Empire."
The Jedi Master arches an eyebrow. "More like your Sith apprentice?" Palpatine shoots him a heated glare. "Ah, well, I am sorry to inform you of this, but Anakin will not be swayed to the dark side." Now there's an amused expression. Anakin is the Chosen One, he will not fail the light side. He can't. He won't.
"We'll see about that." Palpatine remarks, an expression on his face that nearly makes Obi-Wan question the validity of his former statement. It's as if the Sith Lord knows of something he does not, which very well might be the case. He cannot rule such a possibility out. Especially when it revolves around his former Padawan. Anakin has been known to be a little . . . unconventional - and that is putting it nicely.
"Where is he anyway?" he opts to ask in an attempt to quell his growing anxieties.
"Here, on Coruscant, in a nice apartment that I have graciously supplied him with." Palpatine trills. "He will see reason soon enough. But you're here to possibly help move things along. Padme would have been more sufficient leverage - but she's pregnant and I know that she might have actually caused him to turn against me. But you . . ."
Padme? Pregnant? Obi-Wan cannot believe his ears. Are they impaired? Because he did not just hear that. Padme is not pregnant. She's not. Because if she is, then it's more than likely Anakin's - and that's an affair - a violation to the code - that he would rather not hear that his former apprentice has committed. But really, can he be surprised?
He has known of Padme and Anakin's relationship for a while - just not of how far it extended. How can he reprimand Anakin, when he has harbored feelings of attraction and affection for women himself? He was at fault in assuming Anakin would make the same choice as he had and ultimately choose duty over his heart. What an inaccurate assumption that has turned out to be.
"You are the perfect leverage." Palpatine finishes. "But hopefully it will not come down to your life in exchange for his oath to the dark side."
"I am perfect because with Padme, Anakin would hate you and possibly betray you, but with me, you plan on trying to play on which relationship he values most; yours or mine." Obi-Wan states, acknowledging the situation for what it is. Palpatine has always told Anakin the things he wants to hear, while Obi-Wan has always told Anakin what he needs to hear.
The difference is the emotions that it incurs within Anakin. Palpatine inflates his ego and Obi-Wan brings forth frustration. He can only imagine which one Anakin prefers to feel.
"You certainly are a perceptive man, Kenobi." Palpatine spits. "You certainly would make a wonderful addition to the Empire. You were a wonderful negotiator for the Republic."
"I think I'd prefer death over supporting your cause." he retorts. Palpatine smirks and turns on his heels, his body positioned towards the exit where two droids now await just outside.
"That very well may be the case." he says and makes his exit, the droids entering in his place. Obi-Wan's blue-gray gaze widens upon recognizing the droids - torture droids.
Moments later, just out in the hallway Lord Sidious smirks, Obi-Wan's screams and cracking bones much like a harmonious symphony gracing his ears.
To be continued . . .
Okay, so I lied about the torture scene. I was going to go in-depth. But then I decided that I wanted to wait until later chapters. Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Especially Padme's part (surprisingly since I generally prefer writing male characters) and Obi-Wan's flashback to when Anakin was a kid. I love stories with child Anakin and a fatherly Obi-Wan. Hah.
Also, Padme won't be as main a character as Anakin and Obi-Wan. I love her as a character, but I just cannot stand when her and Anakin are in the same vicinity. Yes, they can have their cute moments, but I'm that type of girl that cannot stand complete mush all the time. Therefore, I want to portray a more serious and adventurous side of their relationship. Though I know some mush comes with them. I'd just rather focus on Obi-Wan and Anakin's father/son, best-friend, brotherly bond. It interests me far more.
On another note, please tell me share you thoughts and suggestions. Constructive criticism is also appreciated!