Well, it's... been a time, to say the least. Jumping right in: I've removed the 'intermission' chapter, and updates may come sporadically as life is very busy right now, but I'll try my best. I'm living in Ireland now getting my Creative Writing MA (seems I'm just addicted to those writing degrees) and so you might notice that the way things are spelled is different than in previous chapters (that I'm in a postgrad programme is also the main reason for why updates might be slow). I also wanted to add to the 'inspired by' bit in the first chapter of this story: I recommend the 4-part series of fics by Julie the Tall Terror that starts with If I Don't Catch You, and which definitely influenced this work. It's a great set of fics. Go check them out.
I hope to go back through this story and make edits at some point... I'm not happy with the chapter preceeding this one now that I've had time to read through it after a couple years away and I don't think it fits with the tone of the rest of the story, but for pragmatism's sake I'm forging ahead.
I can't believe I started this fic 10 years ago now. I'm turning 32 next week. I live an ocean away from where I was last year, am applying for PhD programmes, and have arthritis and a cat named after a dragon.
I still have my Luke and Anakin MR sabers.
Nights like these were when Anakin could feel his resolve weakening. To go to their place, to simply dream and be one with the Force, to have real rest beyond that of the body… it was incredibly tempting.
Not that he was sure he could get there even if he wanted to. The nightmares might never allow for it.
The nightmares would always start with him taking the form of a child. He would be just as he was before he'd found his tribe, back when he was working for Xor.
At first he'd start to panic, thinking he'd somehow returned to the dream space against his will. As soon as he noticed he was a child, though, he'd realise this wasn't the case and calm down.
Then he would hear her.
He'd begin to look for her. Would she look younger just as he did? Where was she? Why couldn't he find her?
That's when she'd appear.
And she'd appear as her true age. And she was always crying.
She didn't cry the way he was used to, though. In these dreams her tears came in complete silence, slow and steady streams moving down her angelic face. Her eyes would be looking at something far off behind him, unfocused.
He'd start to run up to her, try to talk to her, embrace her, but he'd find his voice gone and the gazebo off-limits to this version of himself. It was as though a shield of some sort was erected around the area and he couldn't get in. He'd beat his small fists against it, but it would make no sound and it would never break.
He'd grow frantic, pounding against the invisible wall harder and harder until he'd collapse, exhausted and sobbing, onto the ground.
It would feel like he'd lie there for hours, crying and watching Padmé grieve. He didn't know how he knew she was grieving, but he was certain that she was. For what she grieved, he didn't know.
Eventually night would begin to fall, which it never had in this dream space until he visited it in his nightmares. When he could no longer see the hand in front of his face, he'd sit up, try unsuccessfully to call Padmé's name one last time, then begin to half stumble, half crawl in an effort to find a way through the dark.
After what would seem like endless blind wandering he'd start to feel warm. The warmer he would get, he noticed, the more he seemed to age. By the time he would reach his present, accurate form, he'd be sweating through his clothing.
Finally he'd see a small, distant light, and the excessive heat would stop.
Back on steady feet and clothing now dry, he'd start cautiously but quickly moving towards the light. It was dim but consistently visible, and appeared to grow in size as he got closer until it was thrice as tall as he was.
That would be when he'd suddenly find himself stepping out into the Tatooine night.
With the three moons shining down he could clearly make out Canyon Dune Turn stretched out in front of him. He'd turn around to see where he'd come from and see that he'd just exited the Laguna Caves. If he squinted he could even see rusted bits of metal strewn about the area. Broken parts left from the crashing of pods, most likely.
He hadn't been there since he raced to help the Tuskens, but he'd apparently not forgotten the Mos Espa Raceway track at all. Looking up he'd see the rising slope of the side of Ben's Mesa against the dim moonlight, his eyes quickly adjusting.
This was when he'd see it. A dark shape up near the edge of the flat-topped mountain. He would hear a faint sobbing sound.
Padmé?
He'd start off approaching slowly, but would always end up running, somehow scrambling up to the plateau much more quickly than should have been possible. Once at the top he'd see the shadowed figure standing back from the edge, looking small but only a little ways away.
"Hello?" he'd call.
More sobbing.
Then the sound would change, and now it didn't sound like Padmé crying but a child, a little boy. Not wanting to scare him, Anakin would move forward with slow steps.
Just when he'd start to make out dirty blonde hair and ragged, dusty clothing, another sound joined in.
This one wasn't sobbing.
It was laughter.
The laughter would grow, the sobbing of the boy slowly being drowned out. Hastening to reach the child, Anakin would see that the back of his coverings were darkly stained. Blood?
Kneeling in front of him, he'd put a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder where the cloth was not stained and say, "Are you all right?"
Suddenly a hand was grabbing the back of the boy's collar and pulling him away. Anakin would try to follow but somehow the boy was being dragged more quickly than he could move. He'd have just thought To hell with it and been about to tap into the force to enhance his speed when the boy made eye contact with him.
And it was him.
It was Anakin.
Anakin, and as he must have appeared to Padmé the first time he met her.
Just as the shock brought him to a halt, the boy and the large, darkly-robed figure disappeared over the edge.
Snapped back into action, Anakin started running again but he wouldn't get any closer to the edge. Then, without warning, he'd be knocked off his feet by the distinct and unforgettable sensation of a vibro-whip biting into the flesh of his back.
Turning over quickly as possible to face his attacker, he'd look up to see a strange man extending his hand. He'd try to shout, to ask who he was, to make any sound, but would find he was mute again.
Then the man would speak.
"No one will ever be hurt again, I promise. Just come with me."
Anakin's vision filled with red light. Then he felt searing pain, but instead of in his back, this time it was in his arm. Then he woke up.