STATUS: EDITED
Anakin sat up abruptly, nearly knocking over his glass in his hastiness. Grabbing the offending item before it could drench his tunic in water, he set it a few feet away, turning to look worriedly at Padme. "We need to check on Luke and Leia. Now." He straightened, bending to help her up as he swept the picnic materials into a pile. "Who knows what might have happened since I, well, died. Luke could still be stuck on the Death Star, in the midst of hundreds - if not thousands - of enemies, and if Leia's anything like you-" he raised an eyebrow at Padme, "she's probably smack in the middle of a battle, being shot at by my idiotic officers." Anakin cursed, pulling at his locks in frustration. "Even with the Emperor and myself dead, the rebels are automatically safe. We can likely count on one of those stupid officers to keep the death going."
Padme placed a steady hand on his arm. "We can connect to the Force here, Anakin."
He stopped his panicked packing, staring down at her. "To see them?"
"Yes."
Anakin's eyes widened, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "It's strange to have you, Angel, more knowledgeable in the Force than me, but," he shrugged, "I could get used to it." He shot her a blinding smile, flouncing back down beside. "So, my dear wife, how is it that we connect to the Force?"
She choked out a laugh, punching him playfully in the arm. "You're making fun of me."
"Nah," he said, his cerulean eyes bright with silent mirth. "I'd be much too frightened to tease a Senator."
Padme smirked, casually settling closer to his warmth. "Well, my dear Jedi husband-" she stopped awkwardly, correcting herself. "Well, Anakin-"
"It's okay," he interrupted.
She looked up at him, not realizing until then that she had just been avoiding his gaze. "What?"
"It's all right, Padme." Anakin ran his hand through his hair, embarrassed now. "To be honest with you, I'm not really sure myself what I am now." He picked up a handful of sand, picking at it, only to wince, dropping it quickly and dusting his hand off. "With the Jedi, the Sith- I'm, well, not exactly sure. All I know is that, well . . . " He shrugged. "My place is with you."
Her heart tightened in her chest. Unable to speak, her words caught in her throat, she merely leaned her head on his, pressing herself against him and allowing him to feel the pounding rhythm holding her body captive in its beat. In the touch she conveyed everything she could not express in words- the relief she felt in his soothing presence, the greed in wanting more of him, the hurt and fear she had held inside of her for so long, the renewed hope in every new moment with him, and most of all, the love, coursing through her in every thud of her heart and pump of blood through her veins.
And he understood, of course he did, just as he always knew exactly how she was feeling, and it was only a split second before he was wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly into his strong embrace. There were no tears, not this time; only feeling, surging through her and their touch, reigniting the embers of the fire so long pushed to the side and swirling it back up into a raging bonfire. The Force throbbed with the intensity of their emotions, their love, gushing around them in an overwhelming whirlwind before sweeping them up in its power.
And then the sand was gone, and Anakin found himself surrounded by the sounds of screaming and sharp blasts. Faint lights danced through a hazy gaze, pounding footsteps and explosions sounding in the distance.
Setting his jaw, he concentrated deeply on the Force, the scene immediately sharpening and the sounds becoming more pronounced.
He flinched at the sight before him.
It was not the thousands of Imperial droids advancing in on the rebels, obviously unsuspecting of the attack from the evidences of their celebration littering the floor. It was not the wave upon wave of stormtroopers entering the fray, the numbers of white masses seeming unending. It was not the rising silhouettes of the AT-AT just beyond the clearing, pounding steadily towards them, nor the numerous planes swooping overheard, firing down upon defenseless rebels.
He had been in the thick of war enough for the sight not to at least visibly shake him.
It was that Luke, his son, was in the very center of the battle, green lightsaber flashing and blaster fire coming way to close to him for Anakin's liking. Stormtroopers were coming at him like moths to a light - too many of them - and though Luke was obviously holding his own, with so many against him his fate was uncertain. Anakin did not even stop to smile proudly at the raw talent of the young man, his body tensing with an unfamiliar level of anxiety he had never felt to that degree.
The scene to the left was even more horrifying.
Leia stood tall and imposing besides Han - the kriffing nerd herder of a scoundrel - a blaster in each hand, firing unceasingly at the approaching men. She looked so much like Padme, her brown eyes glittering with courage, taking down enemy after enemy as each deadly shot hit its mark.
Anakin hated it.
It didn't matter how skilled they were, they were his children, and he had never felt so worried in his life. In that moment, it didn't matter that he didn't have a weapon, not even a ax or a stick to defend himself- all he wanted to do was to jump into the midst and distract the advancing troops, if only he could protect and son and daughter from danger.
It was not looking promising for the Rebel Alliance.
They were painfully outnumbered, even some of the present rebels unable to get at weapons and forced to use trees and rocks for shelter and sticks nearby in a desperate attempt to fend off the oncoming attackers. For Anakin, there was nowhere to look where the sight was comforting.
Suddenly there was a pained cry and Lando collapsed, his face twisted in agony. Han and Leia ran over, the panicked former gathering up his limp body.
"Lando!" Han yelled. "You can't leave like this! We need you!"
Lando gave a shaky pant, his voice hoarse and strained. "Y-You don't need me, man. You gonna be fine without me." His eyes fluttered, his breath becoming more shallow. "Y-You were always strong enough for the both of us."
"Look at me, you're going to be fine!" Han blinked furiously. "We've made it this far; we're gonna make it to the end!"
Leia stood over them, her face grim and set as she held off the Imperials coming towards them.
"Y-You were a good friend, man," Lando said weakly, his grip on Han's arm loosening. "Take care of the Princess . . . and my baby, the Falcon, for me . . . " His eyes closed slowly, his breathing becoming lighter.
"NO!" Han roared. "We're taking you to a medical center, now!" He swiped at his eyes angrily. "Where are those kriffing annoying robots when you actually need them?!"
"Here, Master Solo," said an annoyed mechanical voice behind him. "What is it you require?"
"Great, finally!" Han said crossly, throwing Lando's body at the two droids. "Hurry up and take him to the nearest medical center!"
"Yes, Master Solo." C3PO awkwardly lifted the unconscious body, carrying it away with the help of R2.
Han glared fiercely after them for a moment, before turning back to the battle, morphing back into the confident smuggler. The only clue to how much he really cared was the aggressive determination of his shots, and his inconspicuous watching of their retreat out of the corner of his eye.
Leia put a soft hand on his shoulder, her gaze still focused away from him and steadily concentrated on the battle at hand- but he knew what she was trying to convey, and the facade of the proud man crumbled under her touch.
"I-I can't lose him," he said in a low voice, his hand trembling slightly on his gun. "As much as I kriffing hate the fellow sometimes . . . " He shook his head.
Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "He'll be okay."
"What if . . . "
"Trust the will of the Force, Han."
He choked out a laugh, glancing back at her with a sarcastically outraged expression. "Since when do you believe so strongly in that mythical wind, princess? Luke, maybe, is naive enough to buy that tale- but not you."
Leia smirked, slugging him in the arm. "Lando will be fine. He has a strong spirit; he won't quit when we were so close to freedom. Now, we better shut up and do some work before our little squabble does more damage than usual and ends up resulting in dead people instead of dead brain cells."
Han chuckled, pushing her lightly back. "Fine, let's go and save some people. Luke can't take all the glory." He started forward- then, as if making a decision, turned back to her, meeting her eyes awkwardly. "I- Um- Thank you."
Her eyes danced with a hint of silent laughter, but she only nodded, giving him a small smile before nudging him with her blaster. "Well, let's go kill some Imperials."
The scene began to fade as the two ran towards the waves of men, full of courage even in the face of likely defeat. Anakin concentrated desperately on the Force, trying to clear the image to see the what would happen, but it only continued to blur, the sounds becoming distant ringing in the back of his mind. There was nothing, and then suddenly he was back on the sands again, clutching Padme to his chest, frustrated and worried. He slowly loosened his grip, turning to look at her with anxious eyes that mirrored her own.
"We need to help them," he said firmly. "Where can we find the others?"
The small plane landed in a grassy field, dotted with both quaint huts and grand estates. Each seemed to be open and welcoming, people bustling about to spend time with or talk blithely to others. There was no fighting or arguing to be seen or heard; emotions did not rage as they did in the normalcy of the galaxy. The air hummed with a balance of calm and light that could never have been achieved elsewhere.
It was just the Force: peace, serenity, and harmony.
Anakin wanted to join in the contentedness, but Padme pulled on his arm, urging him towards a large hut off to the side. It sprawled across an immense area, its size strictly contradicting the lowly materials it seemed to be made of and its plain build.
Tearing his curious gaze away from the charming landscape, he hurried after Padme, stepping into the hut with not a little trepidation.
He stopped at the sight.
It was very much like the Jedi temple - he had destroyed - but simpler, yet so much more beautiful. Elegant carvings graced the mahogany wood of the floors and the stone pillars lining the side of the huge room. In the center, a hole in the ceiling opened up, sunlight filtering through the canopy overheard and lighting up the otherwise dim room. People were seated, meditating, or talking quietly, leaving a revered space around a small green being.
One eye opened, and then the other. Their eyes met across the room, and they gazed at each other, Chosen One and Jedi Master, a great man humbled and a tiny creature exalted, one piercingly searching and the other rather subdued. After a long moment, it was broken, and Yoda spoke.
"Welcome, you are."
The already quiet room went silent, all attention turning on the tall figure in the doorway that had caused so much suffering for so many of them.
"Welcome, you are, Skywalker," he repeated slowly. "Much hate and suffering, you did cause. Not forgiven by all you are. But made right, what you did. Therefore, not like or accept you still, many do and will . . . but I say welcome. No longer a Sith, you are," he said quietly. "Brought balance to the Force, you did."
"I didn't believe you were the one of the prophecy up until the very last second, when Sidious was falling down the shaft," Mace Windu interrupted dryly, stepping forward and giving Anakin a pointed look. "Even when you picked him up, who knew, maybe you were gonna do a practiced Sith move. Really, there was probably only one Jedi who actually had - a rather illogical amount, in my opinion - faith in you."
Anakin - shocked at the fact that the upstart Jedi seemed to have somewhat of a sense of humor - started, his attention shifting and eyebrows creasing in confusion. "What?"
"Obi-Wan, of course," Mace Windu replied, obviously still slightly annoyed by the fact. "He never seemed to think the good in you was gone. I, of course, had my doubts about you from the begin-"
Seeing his old master leaning casually upon nearby pillar, his eyes twinkling, Anakin abruptly straightened his humble stance, effectively cutting off the older Jedi. "Master! The old hermit is here!" He bounded over, clamping Obi-Wan firmly on the back.
The people around him stiffened, unwilling to believe that the Sith Lord who had single-handedly exterminated their entire order was so informal- and a jokester, at that. It was almost a blow to every single person who had died.
Obi-Wan smiled, returning the affectionate gesturcere. "Of course, I had to see you getting roasted by Master Windu," he quipped, earning an eye roll from said person.
"Whatever. Oh, and Anakin?"
Anakin turned to him, surprised at the use of his name instead of the usual "young Skywalker". "Master?"
"Next time, I would prefer if you would just kill me on the spot, so I wouldn't have to endure a chopped arm, a barrage of Sith lightning, and a fall down a million stories to my death," Mace Windu said matter-of-factly. "Understand?" He neared the younger man, giving him a serious look and a pat before heading out of the hut without a word.
Obi-Wan smirked lightly. "That means he's forgiven you."
Anakin shook his head, disoriented. "Right."
Hope the edited version was a lot better than the original of 4 years ago ;) Drop me a review, please?