Chapter 3: No Twisted Nerves

IMPERIAL CENTER

"We can only assume, my dear apprentice; that she's dead." Darth Sidious's words entered Vader's ears and instantly reached the young Sith's dark heart. The idea had reached him before, he had considered it, but he rejected it every time. Though as time kept passing, it was becoming harder.

A year had passed and there was no sight of her.

He could not, no matter how hard he tried, feel her. Her presence had completely disappeared, much like Kenobi's.

She had vanished… but did that really mean she was dead?

Had Vader actually believed that, he would've lost his mind. He would've gone crazy—he would've most likely killed his master for having sent him away so often, giving Kenobi the opportunity to take her away. But as it was, Vader was sure he would see her again. He couldn't explain it to himself; he just felt that it was going to happen. They would be reunited. She was alive. She just had to be alive. And wherever she was, Padmé was most definitely thinking about him.

He was sure, without attempting to be vain, that he lived in her thoughts at all times; much like she often lived in his.

With that small comfort, the young Sith Lord could continue acting the way his master wanted him to; he could go on with his usual… responsibilities. Keeping the galaxy in check.

There were many times when he had to push his wife from his mind; but that was okay, because he knew that she thought of their love and marriage enough for the two.

Whenever Vader was done with a mission, he could finally allow himself the pleasure of thinking of her; and the even bigger pleasure of knowing, that she, too, was thinking of him.


DAGOBAH

Padmé Amidala narrowed her eyes; she took a small and all too quick step back, her hands clasping the lightsaber that once belonged to the man she hated more than anyone or anything in the galaxy.

She tried to not think about her lightsaber's former owner; she tried to focus on only the twin blue blade that was coming her way. And on the Jedi holding it against her. But she couldn't. The same name that always haunted her rang repeatedly in her troubled head.

Anakin… Anakin… Anakin… Anakin… Anakin… Anak—

Ahhh!

"Obi-Wan!" she angrily cried, almost running from him. The reaction was stupid, his face showed it and her mind agreed. But she couldn't help it, it was her natural response. He had almost grazed her skin with his lightsaber.

"You're too distracted," the Jedi scolded. "Get back to the present, Padmé."

"I am in the present!" she cried, sounding offended.

Kenobi sighed, tiredly.

Padmé looked down, embarrassed.

"Let's continue," Kenobi proposed.

Padmé nodded along, agreeing without words. She ignited the weapon again and stood before the Jedi master. He watched her for a few moments, deeply, before doing anything else.

Finally, he approached her; he just pointed his lightsaber at Padmé, circling around her, almost making the woman feel dizzy. Padmé was alert; awaiting, patiently like she had been taught. At last, both blades clashed.

Padmé's attacks weren't so weak and sloppy, as they had been in the beginning, but the situation was too under controlled. She presented no threat whatsoever to the Jedi before her, and she was perfectly aware of it. That was a scary thought; if she could hardly make a difference to a Jedi, how was she ever going to kill two Sith Lords?

As Padmé continued her little "dance" with Kenobi, images of her husband invaded her mind again: The blue of the blades clashing so close to her, as well as Kenobi's own bright and sweet pairs of blues, brought Anakin's enchanting eyes to her.

Anakin's eyes… they were once so loving, they were once her favorite sight in the world.

They were so deep and piercing; so blue and wild, like the deep blue sea…

She could see now, too, the ocean as she floated with her love above it. He had his arms around her, he was whispering sweet nothings… then he was shouting. And he wasn't holding her, he was grabbing her. Pressing her against his own hard body, not a trace of tenderness in his touch, just a mad desire to kill her… and when she looked up to meet his gaze, she no longer saw blue. It was an evil and entrancing yellow glance. She saw into the eyes of her torturer's a last time, and then—

BANG!

BANG!

"Oh!" she cried and grunted as she hit the floor. Kenobi using the Force to bring her back into the present world.

She threw her lightsaber away and put her hands on her sad face, cleaning the tears that were now flooding her cheeks.

Obi-Wan called the lightsaber to his hand, he watched her as she lay on the floor, and without saying anything, he entered the hut in which he and Padmé slept.


He sat on the small living room, regarding both lightsabers, thinking about how different the fight had been when the original owner fought him.

He could not dwell on his painful thoughts much longer, as a few minutes later, he felt a bright presence enter the hut.

"Well, Obi-Wan?" Yoda asked, sternly.

"Not much progress," he said in despair.

"Hmmm, truthfully?"

Kenobi stood up and started pacing around the small place. "She is far from mastering Form I, master Yoda. I am not saying she's not learning. In fact, she's learned faster than I ever would've imagined. But…"

"Intense her feelings for young Skywalker still are," Yoda said, looking up at the younger Jedi. "But of love, nothing is left."

"She hates him, I think, with the same intensity with which she must've loved him…but that's the problem. She's ruled by her emotions—and her emotions are so strong! I can feel them, and I don't know what to do about them. I mean, I had that problem when training Anakin. But at least he was trying to reach into the light, then. But Padmé…"

"Think of nothing but killing she does."

"Yes, master."

"Changed your mind you have?" Yoda asked with caution.

Kenobi said nothing but he did shake his head.

"To train her we have promised, Obi-Wan. And that we will do, but you know as well as me: teaching her to kill him we are not."

Yoda gave Kenobi a look of mixed pensiveness and pity, he called Anakin's lightsaber into his small green hands, and then he exited the humble hut.

When he was alone, Obi-Wan was able of expressing with freedom, "I am."


Padmé heard the small steps of Yoda and almost instantly knew he was approaching her.

She passed her hands over her face again, trying to hide all previous signs of weeping.

"Master Yoda," she acknowledged and greeted.

"Miss Amidala," his small frame was now standing next to her, their eyes could've easily met if only Padmé didn't stare so strongly at the ground below her.

Before saying anything else, Yoda pointed the weapon at her, not igniting it, but motioning her to grab it. She shook her head.

"I'm too tired," she said. "I've had enough training for today."

"Hmm?" Yoda only slapped the ancient weapon at her shoulder, insisting she picked it up.

Padmé knew by now that winning an argument against the Jedi master was not something easily accomplished— even for an experienced politician. And she was indeed, very tired. So she preferred the exhaustion caused by training to that one caused by speaking.

She picked up the lightsaber. As always, she was shocked to see it was much heavier than it looked.

"This weapon is my life," Anakin said, looking into her eyes and putting his weapon in her hands, "And it's yours." The implication in his words made her heart race and her spirits were lifted.

The next thing she saw was his face approaching her, ready to put his lips on her mouth…

"Rise," Yoda said and she did so. "Now," the Jedi master said a few moments later. "Where is your mind?"

Padmé shook her head and released air. "It's here in the presen—"

Fuck!

She never even noticed his action: Yoda swiftly ignited his lightsaber and before she could have the time to react, he grazed her left arm with it.

Padmé grunted in pain and stepped back.

"Where is your mind?" Yoda repeated, his voice loud but calm.

She pictured the ocean, Varykino's sunset, a bloodshot sky…

Whoa!

She managed to deflect Yoda's attack; she swung her own lightsaber and tried to slash at the master's skin. He turned and jumped high, Padmé looked out for the emerald blade that she really didn't want to feel on her skin again.

"Where is your mind?" Yoda asked once again.

She said nothing; she opened her eyes wide and pointed the weapon ahead.

When again the Jedi neared her, he swung his blade at her, jumping only high enough to almost touch her face; with one sweeping of her lightsaber, she managed to keep him from completing his attack. Without thinking much about it, her immediate next move was thrust the blue blade against the green one, then to jump to be at a great distance from Yoda.

Yet the distance did nothing to make her think Yoda was done, she kept her saber at hand, waiting for the next attack.

She saw the small alien walk to her, slowly and calmly, by the time he reached her, he had put his sword away.

"Again I ask," Yoda said, smiling. "Where is your mind?"

Padmé grinned at him. She still had not put her lightsaber away.

"It is here, master," she said and bowed her head.

"You may dispose of your weapon now," he said kindly. "Let us sit and speak, Former Senator."

Padmé smiled and did as he said.

"Into the hut come," Yoda said. "Heal you I will. And as a thank you, a cup of tea, maybe?"

She smiled at him again. "Of course, Master Yoda."


Padmé handed Yoda and Obi-Wan a cup of tea respectfully; she sat with them and enjoyed herself a hot cup that felt like heaven.

"How are your nerves now?" Kenobi asked caringly.

She took a sip and gently said, "Much better."

Kenobi struggled to return the smile she gave him; he said nothing but inwardly thought, At least that makes one of us…


AN: Thoughts?