Note 1: Thank you all very much for all of the reviews that I have received from readers. It's really encouraging to know that people enjoy my work.
Note 2: I've always wanted to write about Anakin's journey to the afterlife following the Return of the Jedi. This takes place after Darth Vader dies and Anakin Skywalker is reborn in the Force.
Note 3: Star Wars and its affiliates do not belong to me only the contents of this Verse.
Note 4: Thank you to my beta reader Young at Heart21and TACAitsH . Thank you for all of your support! You guys are TRULY amazing. =]
Soul's Scars
Chapter 7: Crimson Tears
By: WrittinInStone
"Stop! No!" Anger filled Padmé at the yellow tinge in her husband's eyes. "You are not going to do this Anakin! Not again!" As she yelled at him, she pushed him in the chest, forcing him back. "Look at me, Anakin. Look at me now!"
He tore his eyes from the village of Sand people and silently turned to look at his wife.
"I want my husband back. Come back to me, now, Anakin! You will not do this to me again!" She cried, attempting to shake his large frame. She bit her lip as tears sprang to her eyes and she began to tremble. "Please, Anakin." She whispered, gazing pleadingly into his eyes, "Please fight your anger. Do not let your rage control you anymore. You are better than this!"
Anakin stood silent as he watched his wife. He saw the tears in her eyes, the distress that she was in, and suddenly, his anger evaporated and was immediately replaced by sorrow. He pulled her into a crushing hug. She tensed for a moment before she relaxed in his grip, holding him tightly against her.
"Please, Ani," she sobbed quietly, "Please don't leave me again." She buried her head into his chest, attempting to hide from the light, and from the sand; she simply wanted to be one with him, to merge with him so that he could never leave her.
"I'm so sorry, Padmé," he whispered finally, "So sorry for everything."
"Don't be, my love." She murmured against his robes, "It is not wrong to be angry, but it is wrong to strike out in rage. Anyone would have been angry if what happened to your mother happened to their loved one. To be angry is to be human."
She lifted her head from his robes and gently cradled his face. "We will not go to that place until you are ready," she said calmly, steadily. "We will stay here as long as you need."
Anakin turned to look at the village, and finally nodded. He sighed deeply and sat down in the sand, turning to stare at the microscopic pebbles that made up the beige particles. He wanted to help his mom but…what if he failed again, like before? He would not be able to bear it. Besides, this was the Gray. It was probably an illusion, she was in Paradise right now, enjoying her afterlife…
Padmé settled down next to Anakin and leaned into him, silently offering him her support.
"This was it." Anakin said, staring over the seemingly endless hills of sand. "This is where my journey to the Dark Side began."
Padmé said nothing as she continued to lie on him, refusing to reject him, yet wanting him to relieve the burden that was on his heart.
"I had dreams of her for a month before she died. I dreamt of her pain, I saw what the Sand People did to her," he continued quietly. "I begged Obi-Wan to let me go. But neither he nor the Council would hear of it. They told me to let go that which I feared to lose. They said that about my mother!" Anakin paused in grief as the memories of that time overwhelmed him.
Padmé closed her eyes as her husband fell silent. She curled tighter into him as the wind began to blow the sand all around them. She sighed as he wrapped his arms around her to shield her from the blowing sand.
"I blamed them. I blamed them all; Obi-Wan, the Council, the Jedi Order in general. To me, it was all their fault for what happened to my mother. They should have let me go to her, but they didn't; they didn't let me help my own mother."
Anakin gently disengaged himself from his wife, and as he stood he turned and walked a feet toward the village. "But the simple truth is," he spoke quietly, "It was my fault that she died. I could have ignored their orders, I could have done what I felt was right, but I did not. I followed the orders of the Jedi like I was a slave who was unable to follow my own heart."
He paused for a moment and shook his head. Then he took a deep breath and continued. "I did not want to disobey the Council because I loved being a Jedi, I wanted to be a Jedi. I sometimes wonder if I chose the Jedi over my own mother." He stopped speaking and went silent as he finally voiced the agonizing thought that had plagued him since her death.
"I would have been kicked out at the worst, chastised at the least, either way, I would have had my mother. It was as though I was a slave to my own desire, my own need to be somebody and my mom paid the price. As I look back on my life, I realize that I have always been a slave. When I was a child, I was a slave to Gadrulla the Hutt, and then to Watto. As I got older, I became enslaved to the Jedi, then to Palpatine, and always, always a slave to my own rage."
"I let her die, Padmé." He turned to her, and she could see the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. "I let her die. I knew what she was going through, I saw everything in my visions, in my dreams, and yet I allowed people to keep me from saving her. The truth is, I killed the Sand People because of my own guilt. I blamed Obi-Wan too, because I knew that if I was honest with myself, I would have to admit that it was my fault."
Anakin sat down once again, facing away from the village, from his wife. "I failed her Padmé," Anakin whispered. "I failed my mother and I failed myself."
Padmé stood helplessly as she watched the anguish wash over his face. She went to him and held him, just held him until he fell into a fitful slumber.
#*#*#*#*#
"I'm ready, Padmé." He said softly.
She nodded. They had sat there for hours, and she had taken the time to gaze upon him as he slept. It was amazing how perfect he was in feature. His nose, his mouth, even his eyebrows were all flawlessly set in an extraordinarily pleasing fashion.
I know I am insane, Padmé thought with humor, if I think his eyebrows are sexy. As Anakin slept, Padmé noticed that night did not fall. She attributed it to being in the Gray. There also seemed to be no movement from the village of Sand People since Shmi had been taken there.
Anakin stood up and reached down to take her hand. Padmé was both relieved and tense at the prospect of moving forward. But she knew that they could not complete their journey until Anakin finished this task.
Padmé took Anakin's hand as they walked toward the village. They tensed as they heard the braying sound of the villagers. She looked up to see his face, but it was stoic, expressionless.
Padmé bit her lip as they reached the village and Anakin slowly moved in front of her as they entered. When they were seen, every Sand Person in the village stopped. It was…eerie. Anakin tensed, prepared to defend Padmé by any means necessary. But the villagers did not move. Then suddenly, as one, they all pointed toward a tent.
Anakin became like stone as a fissure of fear went through him. It was the tent that he had found his mother in. He would never forget how it looked, how he had burned a hole in it with his lightsaber, how he had come out of it a completely different person. Shmi was in there; he could sense her presence.
He looked down as Padmé squeezed his hand, her eyes also full of apprehension. He took a deep breath and they walked, as directed, to the tent.
He did not stop when they reached the entrance, but pushed ahead, calling on the Jedi calming techniques to soothe his raging emotions. Control, Anakin thought to himself, I must have control.
His good intentions fled at what he beheld in front of him. He barely registered Padmé's gasp as the all too familiar rage began to overcome him.
His mother was in the center of the room, tied up. They were….beating her….violating her….hurting her.
Anakin watched in horror as Shmi cried out in pain. Her face was swollen, her eyes were almost closed shut from the wounds on her face and her flesh looked as though it had been stripped from her bones. Her breathing was ragged, she looked as though she no longer had the strength to verbalize her agony.
Anakin stood there, frozen, as he watched the torture of his mother. Before he could react, before he could call on the Force to smite everything and everyone in that accursed village, once again, everything stopped. The Sand People ceased their torture, the rustling of the moving villagers outside stopped, even the animals seemed to quiet.
Then something extraordinary happened. Shmi jerked as though woken from a deep sleep. She looked around in confusion as the bounds fell from her hands. Her eyes surveyed the room calmly until they fell on Anakin.
She paused. Anakin breathed. Padmé sighed.
"Ani?" Shmi breathed her son's name. "Ani?"
Anakin tried to smile at her, but her torment was too fresh in his mind. The rage was too near; Vader was too close.
"Hi, Mom," He answered brokenly. "I…"
Anakin stopped as he could not continue. He looked away from her. He did not understand why she was in this place. Why was she not in Paradise? Why was she not bathed in sunlight and soothed by the lyrical sound of cool springs?
"Oh, my son! You're so handsome!" Shmi stood and limped slowly as she went to her son. She touched his face, and even with distorted features and a broken body, she shined.
With a choked sob Anakin pulled his mother into his arms, careful not to crush her as he clung to her. "I missed you Mom," he moaned. "I missed you so much!"
He buried his face into her neck; she smelled of warm bread, she smelled like home. Anakin inhaled at the storm of memories her smell elicited. Peace, acceptance, love.
When he finally pulled away from her, Shmi's injuries were gone and they were no longer in the village of the Sand People, they were at the Lars family homestead.
Shmi simply smiled as though the change in location did not shock her. She released Anakin and stood back to look at Padmé. "I have been terribly rude! How are you Padmé? It's extraordinarily pleasing to see you again."
Padmé smiled at Shmi, her mind whirling at the happenings that were occurring. She took a deep breath and moved forward to meet her husband's beloved mother, barely able to believe that after witnessing Shmi's torture she was now exchanging pleasantries with her.
"It is good to see you again, as well, although under the circumstances…." Padmé's voice trailed off as she realized the tactlessness of her words. How had she ever become Senator speaking thusly?
Thankfully, Shmi seemed to take no offense. "I understand," Shmi responded graciously. "The circumstances could be better. As a matter of fact," Shmi said laughingly, "Just about any other type of circumstance would be better. But we have much to discuss! I know you both have many questions, so please, come inside."
They followed Shmi into the building. Anakin watched as his mother and his wife chatted happily as they both moved busily around the kitchen, setting up for what looked to be lunch.
Suddenly it was all too much for Anakin, "What in the seven hells is going on here!" He burst out suddenly, standing up quickly in his fury. "Mom, why are you here? What is this place? What is going on?"
The women quieted at Anakin's anger. Unconsciously, Padmé reached to take his hand, hoping her touch would soothe him. It did. Anakin took a deep breath as he steadied himself.
"Mom, please tell me why you are here."
Shmi hesitated, "Anakin, this was my choice. You don't have to wor—"
"Mom," he spoke quietly, a horrible feeling growing in his heart, "Why are you here? What did you do?"
Shmi did not say anything for a while as she continued to pull out items from the cabinet. "When I died, I…" Shmi paused and took a deep breath, "When I died Anakin, I was given the choice to go to Paradise. My place had already been set and prepared for me. But I could not go…"
Shmi sighed, "I could not go until I made sure that you would be okay without me. So, I asked a boon first. I wanted to make sure that you would be able to reach me wherever I was. I knew that my death would be hard on you, so I requested Shainu'an, a spirit state, which would allow me to watch over you until the point of your death."
At her words, Anakin felt cold touch his soul. His mother had been watching him? Had she seen Vader? Anakin closed his eyes as fear touched his soul.
Seeing the look on her son's face, Shmi could not look at him so she turned away and she forged ahead. "When I saw what you did to the Sand People, I…I was horrified. I understood, yet I didn't. I knew why you did it, but I did not understand how you could have done it. How could my precious Anakin destroy young ones, women, the elderly? How could my son cut down everything that lived, even the animals?"
"I was devastated, and as I watched your descent to the Dark Side, I knew what I had to do." Shmi turned to her son, and there were tears in her eyes. "It was then that I made my request to the Voices of One. I asked them what would become of you. They said that you would spend eternity in the Land of Weeping and Sorrow for all the wrong that you had done. I asked if anything could be done to erase or reduce your sentence. They told me that I had the right of ka'tu'ra, the right of substitution, because I am your mother. They said that I could take your place so that you would be spared."
She turned away from her son, at the agony in his face, the unrelenting pain. "So I did," Shmi whispered finally, "I agreed to take your place, Anakin. What you saw was what I have endured for the last twenty-three years in the Land of Weeping and Sorrow."
There was a heavy silence in homestead. Anakin felt sick. He choked as the world spun and nausea rose. He rested heavily against the table as his legs threatened to give way.
"But you did not go there, Ani!" Shmi hurriedly explained, turning back to him "You came here, to the Gray. You have freed me from my torment. When you entered the Gray, when you came to the Village of Sand People, you rescued me and I was able to break free from that place. I can now rest in Paradise with you, my son, as I have always wanted."
Anakin did not speak, he did not look at his mother. He did not look at Padmé. He pulled his robes closer to himself as though they would ward off the feeling in his soul. "You should go to Paradise, Mother." He murmured softly, "You deserve it."
He did not speak again. He slowly walked out of the homestead. He did not know what transpired next. He did not know how he got back onto the boat. He did not know how he got back onto the River of Scars. He was numb and he knew that this simple fact was the only thing that allowed him to move.
He sat away from Padmé, at the edge of the boat. He could not touch her, would not touch her. As the boat moved forward, he turned his blank gaze to the water. He stared at his reflection, noticing that there were long dark strips running down his face. He touched his cheek, then he pulled his hand away and stared down at what was on it. Blood, it was blood; bright, red and brilliant, almost blinding him as it stood out against the sea of gray. He was crying blood.
He stared at his hands, knowing why his tears were red. There was no other color that would do justice to the haze of self-loathing in his heart. So it was quite fitting, this color that symbolized hate, passion, love. It was his love for his mother that spurred such passionate self-hate. It was the perfect color. Crimson, he thought in a fog, heavy with the knowledge that his battered soul would never heal; my sorrow is as crimson tears.
End of Chapter 7: If you loved it, review it. I read all reviews over and over! It only takes a moment to make an author ecstatically happy! If you don't, you're a square! =]
8th Chapter: The Cure To Selfishness: Padmé accuses Anakin of being selfish.