Sorry for the long delay. I just started college and have been kinda busy.

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

The grasslands spread out on all sides of them in the shining sunlight. Grass waved and a nearby lake rippled in the gentle kiss of the wind. It was so peaceful here.

The saber felt right in his hand. Made him feel strong again, as if all the past had fallen away and left him with these clear, simple thoughts. Right, slash, back, parry.

Anakin's feet moved beneath him in a time honored dance, his new cobalt saber flashing in the sunlight. It was so easy to fall back into the rhythm. He no longer struggled with it, but let the Force guide him. He was pebble in a stream, letting the water push him, guide him, in defense and in attack.

Across from him, Obi-wan moved as though he were a young man again, his eyes focused and determined. The Force bound them together, and they fought as one, sabers clashing, sending sparks flying.

They were dueling, but not fighting. There was no threat here. Anakin grinned, rejoicing in his communication with the Force, his link with Kenobi. His breathing was light and he might as well have been a man of flesh and blood.

Obi-wan caught the infectious good feelings of his friend and laughed. He ducked a swing and brought his own lightsaber up to meet it. "You're doing well, Anakin."

They pushed apart, swung, parried, and the older Jedi found himself face to face with his friend, staring into the mask. He waited for his heart to skip a beat, to have to swallow the fear that must still linger from those dark days. But his heart beat on. No bitter taste of fear. Nothing but trust.

He swung for the redeemed Jedi's legs, but Anakin was quicker. He flipped, was ready when next Obi-wan came at him.

In the last two months since he had constructed his lightsaber and relearned the art of dueling, Skywalker had studied closely the techniques of both defense and attack. As a Jedi Knight, he might only have considered defense, but his Sith training had a voice too. It said do not be afraid to fight, do not step down. The Jedi in him whispered of patience. He coupled that with the passionate determination a Sith displays, without the blind aggression.

It made him a formidable foe during the Purges. Now, it gave Anakin the confidence he needed to push forward with his training.

Balance, Obi-wan had said. Between past and present. Light and Dark.

He was learning quickly now. Obi-wan, too, had begun to look more closely at the techniques they used while dueling. He had altered some of his responses, adapting to fit Anakin's new style.

Kenobi thought back to the battle on Naboo, with the Sith apprentice and the day he had lost his master. How could he have defeated the Sith, when his methods had been nothing but defense, block, back away? It had only been some miracle of the Force, some misstep in the dance that had killed the 

Dark apprentice. The Jedi and their methods had been for too long nothing more for exercise, for show. They had not fought a real battle in a thousand years. They had become complacent.

Ironic, in some ways, that it had been Obi-wan Kenobi who had been the first to learn to truly fight. To couple defense with offense. It was not enough to survive. This was the enemy of the Jedi, a threat to the galaxy. You also had to be willing to kill. Ironic, because he had needed the skills he learned that day, had needed them for a day that would determine the fate of the galaxy.

With Anakin, on Mustafar.

Skywalker felt the memory through their link and shuddered, but did not loose his focus. He had not been thinking of that day, but rather of another, farther into the past. Geonosis, and his own first encounter with a Sith Lord.

He nearly chuckled at his own foolishness. How childish he had been, running in to face Dooku alone! Ah well, time teaches much, and Anakin put those lessons to good use now.

He called upon the Force, used it as a shield when he was too slow in spinning around to block Kenobi. The saber bounced harmlessly off his shield, protecting his suit. As Vader, he had learned quickly that a single strike with a saber in the appropriate spot could make him defenseless, put him at the mercy of his attacker. The Force shield was strong enough to survive minor blaster fire and the sting of a saber, but would not last long, even when protecting only a small area.

The dance continued, their link binding the two together stronger than it had years ago. Anakin knew when to duck, when to lash out. And while it kept him aware of Obi-wan and the 'threat' his saber provided, it also reminded him this was only practice. Reassuring waves brushed against his mind and Anakin smiled.

The rebuilding of his and Obi-wan's bond had not taken as long or been as hard as he would have imagined.

He had imagined it rotted, broken after a long decay that had eaten away at the threads till they had snapped that day on Sullest, ending their partnership. Their friendship. But he had been pleasantly surprised to find a new, stronger bond had been born in its place.

It had bound them without either one of them knowing, born that day of the twins birth, when forgiveness had been asked for and acceptance been offered. Fired in the flames they had survived, in the tests their friendship had undergone, on Geonosis, during the Clone Wars, on Sullest. It was stronger, for all their faults, all their failures.

They had endured.

And come out better for it on the other side.

Anakin felt the joy rise up in himself, felt it in their link, burning bright. A laugh escaped him as their sabers met again, clashing in the sunlight of Thanitinia.

But the moments of levity and comfort brought about by his and Obi-wan's bond never lasted when returning to their house.

Leia and Luke would be there, having sensed their coming, waiting on the porch for their father and uncle to return from practice. She would giggle and wave her pudgy baby hand, calling "Daddy and Uncle Obi are back, Mama! Mama!" Luke would watch silently, smiling broadly.

And then the shadow would pass over them both as Padme would appear in the doorway, smiling softly at her children, trying to hide the touch of sadness that colored her Force presence with darkness. She had given up trying to get Luke to talk, but guilt rode her constantly. Anakin knew Padme blamed herself, believed she had failed her son as a mother; that, somehow, his troubled birth had led to his silence.

The boy did what a child could to comfort the distress he felt in his mother.

Luke played like any child his age, he laughed and hummed tunes played by his toys. So, he wasn't mute. He picked flowers with his sister, and slept through the night. The only sign he was any different was his lack of speech. Luke liked to lie in the grass and watch the clouds, like to listen to the rain, and these things seemed reflected in his eyes.

"There's knowledge there," Obi-wan said one night, as Luke lay in his mother's arms, watching the flames flicker in the fire place. "He's looking around him and seeing something we don't. Not with the usual child's wonder. With something else."

Padme looked down at her son and smiled. "What do you see Luke?"

Her son smiled at her, but said nothing. And if there was something more in his eyes, something that spoke of knowledge and wisdom beyond his year and a half, it wasn't obvious to her.

The dreams became more and more frequent as the weeks wore on and his training progressed. Dreams of death and betrayal, of blood staining his black armor.

Faces screamed in silence.

Children died in his arms.

Jedi honorably fought till the end they knew was coming and could not escape.

Worse yet, in many of the dreams, Anakin faded away and it was Vader that watched the dreams, that relived the dark moments that had crippled his soul. Watched, with a detached, nonchalant air as the friends and family of his former self suffered under his shadow. He was rotting away inside, the Light within him now nothing more than the lights indicating his respirator was operational.

Harsh, mechanical breathing sucked the life out of the stars.

This night was the worst, for the nightmares of what could have been, what was for a time, fell away and surrendered to the horrors of his life before Vader. Of Anakin's slow corruption.

And as if Obi-wan's words had triggered some carefully locked room, the memory of Mustafar resurfaced to haunt Anakin this night. He was swallowed in the past, returned to that moment of his utter and supposedly irredeemable fall to the Darkside. To the lava. To death.

If only he had died.

The red light of his saber, the flames that roared up from the lava pits, the fiery sun setting: blood on the dry rocks.

Shadows played across the face of a younger Obi-wan Kenobi, desperation and determination having brought him here. To save an apprentice already lost. To grieve for a friend he is only now realizing he has failed.

To protect the future of the galaxy.

But Anakin knew none of this. Only the hate, the rage boiling inside, ready to erupt, to destroy, anyone, anything. This man before him, his so called friend. His master.

He spat, hating the bitter taste of the word, knowing Kenobi deserves no such title. Thinking he knows the depths of betrayal.

The saber feels right in his hand...

Makes him feel strong again, as if. . . as if. . . all the past falls away and leaves him with these clear, simple thoughts. Right, slash, black, parry.

Has he been here before? Somewhere, some green field in fading sunlight?

Anakin's feet move beneath him in a time honored dance, his new cobalt. . . red saber flashing in the blood red sunset. It is so easy to fall into the rhythm. He no longer struggles with the weak Light, but lets the Darkside of the Force guide him. He is pebble in a stream, letting the water push him, guide him, in defense and in attack.

Across from him, Obi-wan moves as though hesitant, though his eyes are focused and determined. The Force binds them together, and they fight as one, sabers clashing, sending sparks flying.

But they are fighting against each other, fighting in a duel that will leave one of them dead.

Skywalker is not afraid. The dark joy that courses through him at the thought of Kenobi's death gives him strength, speed, agility. They have been fighting a long time in the fading light, but he is not tired. No! He is empowered! Here is the strength he has been missing! Here is the confidence, the sense of purpose he has been searching for, for so long! No longer the weak Jedi, the unworthy apprentice! He is powerful!

Obi-wan is tiring, his cloak wrapping around him, making his stumble. His grief wears him down, his last, hopeless longing a weakness he can't escape.

Anakin uses it against him, taunting him, harsh words. Obi-wan stands strong, and that strength is poison to Skywalker. Fury consumes him.

He blocks, thrusts, shoves his old master back hard, sending him scrambling into the dirt. The hard earth crunches beneath his boots, ominous steps as he approaches his fallen master.

Red saber raised, he is ready for the end. Ready for it all to be over. Ready to destroy that last small light that is his friend. Now is the moment. Obi-wan Kenobi will die!

And in that moment, he sees the look in the Jedi Master's eyes. Feels him reaching out to the Force. Feels himself being shoved back, of falling. . . of fire. . .

Anakin awoke with a start, gasping.

In the darkened bedroom he shared with Padme, his breathing was loud, harsh. But that was the only sound, everything was silent, still. The shadows watched him condescendingly, offended by his rude interruption of the quiet night. Nothing stirred and Skywalker came back to the present.

He was home, on Thantinia. With his family. Safe.

Beside him, Padme slept on, peaceful and ignorant of her husband's nightmares. He was grateful not to have woken her. These terrible memories were his and his alone.

Reassured, he felt the calm presence of the twins next door, of Obi-wan's dreamless sleep down the hall. Everything was all right.

Just a nightmare, he told himself, lying back down in the sheets, ignoring the fact he could not feel their silkiness beneath him. Just a nightmare, nothing more. Old memories, of times past. Why did he dream of Sullest? Of the day he lost everything?

The shadows didn't have an answer, and he forced himself back to sleep.

In the morning, the sunlight stripped away all fever dreams and nightmarish memories. Anakin forgot, and was grateful for it.

"Are you alright?"

"What?" Anakin blinked, nearly forgetting to bring his saber up to block Obi-wan's swing. His friend gave him a look that clearly said he suspected something was wrong. Guiltily, Skywalker turned his eyes away, hoping to hide the truth, hoping it didn't come through in their bond. "Sorry, wasn't concentrating."

"So I noticed. In fact, you haven't been all day. What's wrong, Anakin?"

"Nothing, just a little tired. I guess I haven't been sleeping well."

"Want to take a rest? It's almost sunset." It was, Anakin realized. Somewhere during their practice, the bright afternoon sunlight had tarnished to a rusted red, the run sinking below the horizon. The warmth of the day had been blown away by the evening winds. "We can continue tomorrow." His friend offered, looking concerned.

For a moment, he thought about it. About ending the practice and sitting down beside his friend next to the lake and resting. Listening to the sounds of night approaching. But Obi-wan would continue to pressure him, wanting to know what was wrong.

"No, I'm fine." Anakin lied. The sunset glared accusingly at him. Anakin glared back, the glare nearly blinding him.

Despite the warmth of the sun's last light, the evening had grown cold, the wind whipping at the Jedis' cloaks. Obi-wan shivered occasionally, but didn't loose his focus. Anakin, however, constantly found his attention wandering today, thinking his own quiet thoughts or staring off over the grasslands.

His gaze drifted to the lake, reflecting the crimson sunset. So cold was the evening, steam rose up from the top of the lake and tangled menacingly with the rays of light.

In that moment, two sabers clashed, and Anakin's thoughts whirled.

The steam from the lava reached out hot, searing fingers for his fragile flesh. The air of Sullest was hard to breathe in, so strongly did it smell of sulfur, so harshly did it sear the lungs. And where there had once been grass underfoot there were bloodied rocks, crunching, like bones, under his boots.

The blood was his, was Kenobi's.

And so were the sabers'.

They clashed in the sunset, two black shadows against the horizon. The sun bathed faces twisted in the most grievous of human expression: fear and hatred. They sweated in the heat, Anakin's energy escaping his body as quickly as sanity had his minds. But his former master was faring far worse and so he pressed the advantage.

Dazed, he followed the motions of the memory that was so familiar to him now. Was he dreaming again? Each step was the same, and should Kenobi step falsely, disturb this nightmarish dance, Anakin quickly put it to right again.

His mind was working in slow motion, the Anakin of the past and himself remaining separated, but his present self remembered what he had been thinking then. What he had been intending to do.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare. No reason to be afraid.

Soon, he would wake again in his bed, beautiful, forgiving Padme lying asleep next to him and the twins innocently slumbering in their room. This would be no different then the dream he had only the night before. It would pass and leave him to struggle back to sleep, guilty conscious berating himself for so easy succumbing.

And then came the moment he always dreaded, whether in memories or in dreams. He blocked, thrust, shoved his old master back hard, sending him scrambling into the dirt. Battered and bloody, Obi-wan crumpled, but refused to give up. He reached for his lightsaber. A wicked smile creased Skywalker's face; he knew the older Jedi would call it to him only too late...the hard earth crunched beneath his boots, ominous steps as he approached his fallen master...oh, here is sweet, sweet victory.

Inside, Anakin wept, wondering how long before he would awake. Yet the moment didn't come.

He lowered his saber to Kenobi's throat, preparing to kill even as he knows he will not succeed. Because this is the moment he is shoved into the lava, the moment the Force comes to Obi-wan's aid and attempts to destroy the pale shadow of what was once Anakin Skywalker.

The nightmare continued to play out. In that moment, he looked into the Jedi Master's eyes. But rather than seeing the determination there, rather than the fear and the guilt and the deep-seeded longing, Anakin, even in his dream-fogged mind, sees something he did not expect.

Trust.

Still there, burning brighter than ever. Its light was strong enough to burn away the dream, to send the memory skittering into the shadows of his mind and he blinked.

Anakin opened his eyes to find the desolate landscape of Sullest replaced by the gentle green hills of Thantinia, fading into darkness as the last of the sun set. The lake's surface continued to steam as the chill descends, but the wind was quick now to blow away the wisps that tangled with the light and dragged him back into remembered Darkness.

"Anakin?"

Obi-wan lay pressed against the cold earth, his cobalt lightsaber at his neck. He looked scuffed and beaten, his paling red hair blowing in his face by the wind, yet he didn't move to brush it away.

But there was still the trust in his eyes. No fear, just trust. Waiting. For the lightsaber to move away, for Anakin to come back to his senses.

"Anakin, are you alright?"

Gasping, Skywalker pulled away, extinguishing his blade and turning his mask into the cold wind. If only he could feel it, maybe it would dry the clammy sweat from his scared forehead.

Oh, Force. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? When would the damned nightmares fade, the memories stop dictating his life, the fears and old hatred stop taking over his senses and driving him to madness.

Choosing to remain silent, the Force didn't give any answers, but he thought he might have felt a reassuring brush against his cheek, where the wind could not reach him. Maybe he had been dragged back into that hell, even if it was only for a few minutes. At least he had been able to get a hold of himself before he had done anything he would deeply regret.

Turning back to his friend, Anakin offered Obi-wan a hand up. "I'm sorry, Obi-wan. I – I, . . . I don't quite know what happened. For a moment there, I thought...it was like being back on Sullest." He ran a hand along the top of his helmet, wondering what could have so strongly possessed him. The nightmares had greater power than he realized, if the mere steam off a lake coupled with the sunset could so easily befuddle him. "Are. . . are you alright?"

Kenobi looked his friend over, an eyebrow raised in concern. "Yes, I'm fine." The waves rolling off their bond told him his friend had been scared, but that fear had not led to Darkness. Whatever this had been, this trick of a deeply scared mind, it was not a brush with the Darkside. "My friend, I think its time you tell me."

Awkward, feeling like an apprentice, Anakin looked away as though distracted and shrugged. "About what?"

"Anakin." With that tone, the younger Jedi had to face him, shame-faced. "About these dreams. These Force visions."

Sighing, Anakin fingered his new lightsaber. "It's not as bad as you think. Nothing like that has ever happened before. And there's nothing to talk about, Obi-wan. It's something I have to live with the rest of my life, these memories of what I did. Of my crimes. It's just that ever since I started my training again, they've come back, stronger than before. There are some nights. . . "

"And you didn't tell me any of this why?"

"I didn't want to hurt you any more than I already have."

He was surprised when Obi-wan laughed, but his friend's levity passed and Kenobi smiled sadly. With a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, the elder Jedi shared his strength and conviction with Skywalker, and Anakin silently drank in the love and understanding in that touch.

"These things will pass, Anakin. One day, it will all pass."

After that day, Anakin was careful to focus while they practiced with lightsabers. He very much doubted the dreams would come back to haunt him in another vision as they had that day, but he wasn't taking any chances. After meditating on it for a long time, he decided to take the unusual occurrence as a warning from the Force.

He was no longer an apprentice, just one among many Jedi. He was the Chosen One, with a destiny and a greater, darker purpose then the Council had ever considered. And he could not allow himself to be distracted, even by his grief and guilt.

It was a sign, Anakin decided, that the Force was with him.

Caslia