In Dreams

Naboo. This was Naboo.

She had no real way of telling that. She couldn't see anything in the murky darkness. She could hear nothing except her own breathing.

But something about this place screamed of home to her. It was familiar somehow.

Amidala stretched out her arms blindly, searching and clawing, but only found air. She was tempted to just stand there, and wait for whatever was coming…but she felt compelled to start walking. So she did, slowly. Small steps, still reaching out for something, listening for anything that would convince her she wasn't walking through a vacuum.

She wondered vaguely where he was. Usually, she could at least sense him, feel him, something. But now she had the curious sensation of being alone.

No, she was never alone in these dreams. He was here.

Her hands suddenly came up against a wall, and a wave of relief washed over her. At least it was a solid object. It was smooth and cool…it felt like marble. Like the walls in the Palace.

Yes, the hallways of the Palace. A thousand memories rushed through her, memories of happier times. Memories of her friends, her handmaidens, her advisors, her family.

How she hated it here.

What? That wasn't right. She loved it here so much that it hurt to remember it.

Anakin… Those were his feelings. He hated it here. He was disgusted by the very thought of it. He wanted out. Now.

Amidala leaned against the wall, trying to fight off the despair she felt at that realization. It was nothing new – he seemed to feel nothing but disgust for everyone and everything that represented his old life. Whenever she woke up from this horrid dream, that fact would undoubtedly depress her.

But she couldn't let herself be distracted now. Any detail here might be important; she had to pay close attention. This was his realm, and she would simply have to accept whatever he dealt out.

Accept that he hates our home?

Yes, apparently that's what she would have to do. The Palace would never look this way, the way he was envisioning it. Usually, the sun poured in from the windows, bathing every corner in a healthy, beautiful glow. The marble shone brilliantly; Amidala had often joked that you could see yourself in the floor if you looked hard enough. Amidala looked idly down at her feet –

– and felt a chill shoot through her, making her hair stand on end and her skin break out in goosebumps. It probably wasn't the wall that was making her cold, but she moved away from it anyway, rubbing her forearms in a vain attempt to keep warm. She started walking again, down the hallway, shivering, when she realized that she could see her breath.

Looking around wildly, she found a small sliver of light dancing across the floor of the hallway. She headed for it, even though she could feel that he didn't want to go wherever it was headed. He was trying to run the other way, trying to pull her back, but he eventually relented and went with her.

To their chambers.

He had never dreamt of home in this detail before. Her heart fluttered happily. She so desperately wanted to believe there was some positive element she could glean from these visions. But he never let her do that. Even now, she felt repulsed – or rather, she felt his revulsion. It almost made her sick. Still, she fought the urge to leave, and instead looked around at their room.

Their room. You could hardly call it that. Nothing that belonged to either one of them was present. No clothes. No books. No pictures. Nothing. Only the furniture remained, and that was royal property anyway, not hers.

And he was happy about that. He was suddenly much more at ease.

Amidala tried to ignore him, and instead found comfort in what little was left. Her desk, her bureau, their couch…a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She sat on their bed (which was missing their sheets), and reveled in the feel of the room, despite Anakin's misgivings. The little chrono that woke her up every morning. The chiffon curtains that adorned the windows. The mirror she checked herself in before she left for the day…the mirror that wasn't hanging on the wall as it should be.

Her vanity was missing its mirror as well. Odd. Neither of them was hers, so why wouldn't they be there? Amidala stood and went to the wall, staring as though she might see her reflection.

"Ami?"

Her heart stopped. She was certain it missed at least two beats. He was speaking to her. Directly to her. That had never happened before. She hadn't even heard his voice prior to this.

But instead of running to him, she remained rooted in her position, looking at the wall. She was too scared to turn around. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want them to see each other.

That part of her that was her, that was separate from his feelings, practically screamed out in agony. She had to talk to him. There were so many questions to ask, so many things she needed to say to him. What was she doing? What was wrong with her? He didn't want them to face each other, but that shouldn't matter. She needed to see him, to look into those eyes that she missed so much. Eyes so blue, and so clear, she could she almost see herself when she looked at him.

She finally turned around. And he was gone.

Amidala eyes opened slowly. She was awake again. She glanced at the chrono. It was late, but it didn't matter. She needed to speak to Obi-Wan.

She thought that maybe she understood.

*****

"Amidala, please, you must calm down," Obi-Wan said wearily. It was an obscene hour of the morning, and Amidala had knocked on his door, nearly hysterical about another dream she had just had. As always, she couldn't begin to explain what happened.

He was tired of hearing about them…not that he would ever stop listening. There was always the chance that he might figure something helpful out, piece something together. Yet, all he had found so far was affirmation of his failure. She told him of Anakin's fear, and hatred, and anger…how could he not have shored Anakin against the most basic Dark Side emotions –

"Obi-Wan?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Amidala. Tell me what happened."

"There was a moment where it made sense…I…he…didn't want to look at the floors…and then the mirrors were gone. He didn't even want me to look at the wall, in case I saw a reflection…"

"Amidala, this isn't making much sense. Did you feel anything different?"

Her eyes snapped up to his. "Yes. I did. He was scared that I might look at him…that I might see him…" she trailed off, frustrated. It had made so much more sense when she was lying in bed.

Obi-Wan simply shook his head. "He's always been afraid, Amidala. That's nothing new."

Her brow furrowed, as she tried to reform her ideas. "He was – afraid to look at himself." Her face lit up in realization. "That's why the mirrors were missing, and I couldn't turn around, and it was so dark…he can't face anyone. Not even himself." She paused for a moment, trying to sort out the feelings before she lost her train of thought. "Maybe he hates us – hates everything – because we remind of what he's done." She looked at him, hope lighting her eyes. "It's shame."

Obi-Wan just stared at her.

"Wouldn't that be a good thing? He knows what he's doing is wrong, and he hates himself for it."

"I don't think it's so simple." Obi-Wan stood from his chair. "He probably doesn't even know he's sending you these thoughts…he probably doesn't realize that he feels this way."

"So we'll make him realize it."

He turned to leave. "We'll see. I must discuss this with Yoda."

Amidala turned away, nonplussed.

Once he got to the door, he paused. "Amidala?"

She reluctantly looked at him.

"It's definitely a good thing," he said softly. He turned and left the room.

**********

**********

Gardulla's lair. Why in the world was she dreaming about Gardulla's lair?

Anakin found himself wandering through the corridors of the basement, listening to the vague sounds of the day's debauchery floating down from upstairs. He had taken this route many times, running small errands for his master and some of the other servants. He had told Amidala of his life here on more than one occasion…it was a comfort to know that she was still so focused on him in her thoughts.

But he had to admit that the level of detail stunned him. He had only been 3 years old when he left for Watto's, which meant there simply wasn't much that he remembered about his time here. Yet everything about the place was dead-on – the cool air of the lower levels, the maze of hallways and doors, the ratty clothes he was wearing. It was exactly as he remembered, as if he had stepped back in time. It was amazing.

Not that he was exactly thrilled to be here. Nostalgia wasn't the word that often came to mind when he thought about Tatooine. Still, it couldn't hurt to look around, check out a few of his favorite playing and hiding spots.

Anakin glanced around, and was suddenly aware of the fact that he didn't know which way to go. Strange. He had never gotten lost here. Well…except for that one time…

Oh no.

Was that where this was headed? Was he going to have to relive that?

Of course. It made sense. This was the one event that he remembered with absolute, awful clarity. He had told Amidala everything about it…she had been horrified. Of all his stories, this one seemed to have the biggest impact on her. So now she was dreaming about it.

He wasn't going to do this again if he could help it. He had to get out of there.

Anakin turned back and forth, looking to both ends of the hallway. He couldn't figure out where the exit was.

Besides, he knew that he probably couldn't leave in any event. Because she was here. Anakin was beginning to sense Amidala…she was calm, almost serene. Whatever was happening to her, she certainly wasn't sharing his fear of this.

He took off running in one direction. If he were lucky, he'd find her, and find a way out of the basement. If not, he may as well just face this, get it over with, and wake up. There was no use in prolonging things.

The hallway became a blur. He turned left and right, went through doorways…his apprehension was increasing.

Where is she? Why is she doing this to me?

Anakin took a sharp left, and skidded to a stop.

The stench. It was back. Running was out of the question now – he could hardly breathe.

He was standing outside the morgue.

Anakin had always known that bad things happened to people who made Gardulla mad. Some of them got shot, some fell through a hole in the floor, and some were simply taken away by a henchman or two. The other slaves were always scared of Gardulla because of this, but Anakin had never truly understood what was going on. At least not until the one day he got lost in the basement, and stumbled upon this room.

He should have run screaming the minute he opened the door. But he could only stand there gawking – he looked at their faces, saw their blood on the floor, smelled their decay in the air. He might be standing there to this day if something hadn't crashed at the end of the hallway, scaring him half out of his mind. He sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, and didn't stop until he had reached his quarters.

He never told anyone what he had seen (well, not until Amidala). Eventually, he just tucked it away in that part of his mind where he quietly kept unpleasant things. When he was older, he understood the why of it better – the Hutts didn't respect anyone enough to bury or burn them, so they just had the droids dump them somewhere. And it couldn't have hurt Gardulla's reputation to show errant debtors exactly what would happen to them if they didn't pay. In a way, it made sense. And so, he had almost forgotten about it.

Almost. Anakin looked at the door. He couldn't go in there now…he just couldn't. Yet, he knew suddenly that she was behind that door. Which meant he had no choice but to go forward.

He tried to steel himself, and slowly pushed the door open. He kept his eyes up, and the first thing he saw was Amidala. She was standing on the far side of the room, next to a table, with one of the bodies lying in front of her. She was working over it busily. Her back was to him, and he couldn't quite see what she was up to.

Confusion didn't being to describe what he was feeling. This is what's keeping her so calm? Standing in a sea of bodies, working on a cadaver?

"Amidala?" No response. She had never communicated directly with him anyway. Anakin sighed. That meant he would have to walk all the way over there to find out what she was doing. After a moment's hesitation, he forced himself to look down at the floor.

He saw Ki-Adi-Mundi lying there.

Anakin jumped back with a shout, tripping over another body behind him, almost falling to the ground. His heart was pounding through his ribs; a nervous sheen of sweat adorned his face and his shaking hands. Everywhere he turned he saw a familiar face. Jedi he had hunted down. Alliance leaders he had faced in battle. All on grotesque display.

He tried to get a hold of himself, to ignore the fear and nausea that were sweeping through him. You've been in enough battles. The dead should not bother you. It was true – he had fought so long in the Wars, on both sides, that he was almost used to walking through fields of fallen soldiers. This shouldn't be any different. Death was a normal part of war.

Indeed, it was a necessary part of it. These people decided to align themselves against Palpatine, choosing to revert to the corrupt, ineffective ways of the past instead of embracing the vision of the new order. And the Jedi…the Jedi. The ones who held such power, but preferred to follow arcane and irrelevant rules rather than create real change. The ones who repeatedly held him back because of their own petty fears and jealousies. The ones who tried to deny him knowledge of the true meaning of the Force.

Yes, this was all necessary. These people had made their decisions, and they had paid for them.

That thought finally seemed to bring him the peace he was looking for. He was finally able to take a deep breath, despite the smell, and relax a bit.

He glanced up at Amidala, who was still working away. Maybe this is why she's so calm, he thought to himself. Maybe she does understand after all.

Anakin finished making his way to the table. He glanced over her shoulder.

Amidala was preparing the man as if he were going to have a funeral. She washed the dirt off him with a small cloth, dressed his wounds, and was about to change him into a new, clean set of clothes. On the floor nearby were several other bodies she had already completed this process with.

He watched her for several minutes. He knew she wasn't doing this solely out of a general respect for the dead.

She felt obligated. Responsible. Guilty.

Anakin's heart sank. So, she didn't understand, couldn't see his rationale…no, the only reason she was calm was because she had simply resigned herself to the fact that she was married to a monster, and that she would always feel badly about it.

Well, maybe not resigned. Her actions may not have been much in the larger scheme of things, but she was doing the little she could to "correct" his "mistakes."

It bothered him greatly. He didn't want her to be ashamed of him. And she has nothing to be ashamed of. Why couldn't she understand that? While what he was doing was by no means pleasant, it was nothing to feel such guilt over –

A crash sounded from somewhere in the hallway. The noise was incredibly loud, it nearly scared the life out of him. Suddenly, the stench came back, assaulting his senses. Panic rose within him.

He had to leave.

He reached out to Amidala, to take her hand and move her away from the table. She didn't budge, nor did she acknowledge that she had felt his touch.

His eyes were tearing; his throat was stinging. He couldn't breathe. He had to get out of there.

"Amidala? Amidala!" She began treating another wound. "Ami, we have to leave. Please!" Nothing. She couldn't hear him, she couldn't feel him – how was he supposed to get through to her?

Feeling slightly dizzy, Anakin grabbed her forcibly by her shoulders, pulling her with all of his strength. He failed to move her.

He had to leave.

Anakin gave her a sad, final glance, and then flew from the room.

Anakin woke up wheezing, coughing, and gasping for air. He took several tortured breaths before realizing that he was in his quarters on Coruscant, and that the air was clean and easy to breathe.

He tried to slow his racing heart. Flashes of the dream came back to him, and he was too terrified and too exhausted to face it. Instead he shut his eyes tightly, and fell into an uneasy slumber.