Crimson Tears

Chapter 8

By aznJEDI13


Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Anakin and Amidala and everyone else. Heck, he owns just about everything in the story. This is purely for fan enjoyment.

Notes: This takes place during the Clone Wars. I must warn you right now that I'm not a big fan of Anakin turning into Darth Vader so it probably won't end with anything like that. I hope you like this; I've been reading too many ami/obi ones I was sooooooooooooo mad. That was completely random and I'm going to write a bunch of stories to rebel against them!

I hate love triangles but I write them because it's a plot twister. Right now I have no clue if I'm going to add it or not, actually I have no clue if I'll even finish this one. I don't really know where its going so this is a really questionable story. ENJOY! Feedback is REALLY appreciated.

Thanks to everyone who left a review! Please continue to do so. I was so shocked, I've never had so many reviews and I enjoyed reading them over and over again so please continue! I like long reviews too!!!

Italics mean flashbacks and sometimes they mean thoughts. It depends on the context and the way they are used. //also means thoughts or something of the past.//

Sorry for the confusion.

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'…Trying to save what's left of my heart and soul…'


She slept that night, dreaming.


She dreamed of lilacs, her sweet perfume. She dreamed of satin red, the color of her bed. She dreamed of royal purple, the color of her plush carpet.

She dreamed of Anakin and a time he had touched her heart and soul.

She didn't know how late she had stayed up. She just remembered drifting off to sweet dreamland. She didn't remember her dream. She had been half-asleep and half-awake when the door to her apartment opened.

She was too tired to get up and pretend that she didn't know the visitor.

He had called some time before saying his flight group was stopping there. She had been excited for hours, until it seemed like eternity for his ship to land in the docking bay. Now he was here, and she was too tired to get up and too indolent to even try.

He came into her room, leaned against the doorframe and smiled. Though her back was too him, she knew he was smiling. He always smiled at her.

It was this special smile – reserved just for her.

It seemed he stood there for hours, though only mere seconds.

"Aren't you going to say hello, Anakin?" she turned to him and asked; surprised her voice had come out in a whisper.

"No," he walked towards her slowly, "It's breathtaking just to watch you."

They kissed.

They kissed in abandon for what seemed like hours, though, once more, mere seconds.

Afterwards, he gathered her in a crushing embrace. She relished in his hug, his tight embrace. She leaned against his chest as he placed his head on hers, their foreheads leaning against one another's. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and his hands held her at her waist, both very protective and afraid the other would slip away.

It had been far too long.


"I've missed you so." She whispered; her eyes closed in contentment and for the first time in months, joy.

"I've missed you more." He replied, simply. His charming voice sending shivers running down her spine and warm, fuzzy feelings in her stomach.

She smiled back and playfully teased the skin of his shoulder, making imaginary doodles, "I doubt that."

He looked down and placed a finger on her lips, "Don't doubt, just believe."

She smiled once more. How he
had loved her smile.

A contented silence filled the air. A silence that was embellished with laughter and smiles as they playfully enjoyed each other. A silence that was filled wholeheartedly with love.

Finally, as if the silence was too much to bear, though obviously enjoyed, she spoke, "What took you so long?"

He laughed, "We had a late start, nothing to worry about Padme."

"Oh little Ani, when will you learn I worry about you no matter what."

Silence. She felt him inhale her scent and take a deep breath. He asked after a while, "What perfume is that?"

"Lilacs." She paused, curiously, "I've worn it forever."

"I know," He nods, "I would like some."

"Why?" She questioned her husband.

"To remind me of you." He looked around the room, charming her, "And a red satin pillow case."

A smug smile on his lips, she laughed – music to his ears.

"You have no prudence." She sobered, "Would you like a piece of the carpet while you're at it…I'm sure you have fond memories there too."

"No, it's much too dirty."

She laughed once more and spoke, "And the pillow case isn't?"

Silence, an uncomfortable silence that filled both of their red ears with embarrassment. He laughed, "Shut up and kiss me Padme."

And she did, kissing him until they needed air and then they started again until morning.

"Good morning, Padme." She awoke to the forlorn face of Obi-Wan. Through his somber and saddistic features, she could tell he had tried to be cheerful for her sake, but had failed miserably.

She smiled faintly at him and spoke groggily, "Morning," She stretched, hearing joints pop and bones crack from the uncomfortable position she had laid in. She relaxed and looked up at him.

He put a hand on her arm, but pulled it away when he saw her discomfort.

"I've scheduled breakfast with Collin in an hour, if that all right with you."

She smiled at him contently once more and then spoke; "It's fine, I could use new company."

"I'm sure you could. We can talk more about…" his voice faded away unsure.

She interrupted him, placing a friendly hand on his arm, "It's all right, you can say his name; he's not dead."

"All right," he paused slightly almost as if it were awkward for him to speak such name, "We can talk about… Anakin."

A long silence hung in the air.

Reminding her, reminding them, that he was not the man that they had sent off to fight. That he was not the man who they had loved so dearly and existed only. Reminding them that though he seemed like Anakin Skywalker – he was not.


He turned and looked at the door, "Well, that's it, I'll see you an in hour."

He began to walk towards the door; she spoke in a rushed voice, "Obi-Wan wait."

He turned to look at her with a curious glint in his sad eyes, "What is it Padme?"

She sat up on her bed and crossed her arms and spoke, "I want to see him."

"Are you sure?"

Silence.

She debated whether or not the words of her mouth contradict the words of her actions. She was unsure whether she had spoken the truth of the moment or the truth of her life. Was she ready to see Anakin? More importantly, how would she feel seeing Anakin?

Seeing the man she loved for so long, so different, so much a stranger.

"Yes…" her voice cracked, "I'm sure… I want to see Anakin."

She would do it for Anakin.

She replied again, reaffirming her decision, "I'm sure, Obi-wan, I'm sure."

'…I don't know what's happening to me,
I can't remember things I used to believe…'



How could someone so beautiful be so sad?

He had seen her in the hall. Her beautiful face washed with mixed emotions. Porcelain tears on her glass face. She walked so confidently yet her shoulders slumped slightly and her cheeks were slightly pale and streaks of dried tears litter her beautiful face. She was an image of both brawn and brain, beauty and wit, passion and power. Through the hall she walked, the artificial light casting an ethereal pattern across her florescent skin – she glowed in a way he could not describe.

He watched contently.

Memorizing her cognizant eyes, confident walk, glass face, and the river of auburn that ran from her head down her back. She was amazing. Her eyes held a wood brown intensity and he longed to meet those eyes. He longed to get lost in her forest. He longed to see into her soul – to know who she was; what she was.

He knew, sitting in a chair, watching her through the window did not do her beautiful justice.

He had dreamed of her the other night. She was beautiful then just as she was beautiful now. Her hand reaching out, beckoning him to come to her. He watched as her tongued rolled the words right out of her mouth and her eyes sank into his.

Anakin…


He wondered, where had he seen her before?

Surely, such marvel had not existed just in his dreams before today. Such a thing was impossible. Dreams were just dreams, visions maybe, but not reality – never reality. Surely she had not been a surreal beauty until she had barged into his contemplation and questioned if he knew her. He had not seen her before, but she had shown up on his doorstep, asked if he remembered her only to be turned away. That had to mean something.

It had to mean that she had been more then just a glimpse of the future in his dreams, she had to be someone from a vision of the past.

But he could not remember her in life, he only knew her in his dreams. And he knew such thing; such a glimpse of the future was impossible for someone like him, especially like him.

Yet he had seen her walk through the hall, porcelain tears on her glass face. Movement fluid and confident and beauty potent and extraordinary. And he remembered her, not from life, but from his dreams. Visions of his dreams had continually clouded his mind the minute he saw that sad beautiful face.

And he wondered how could someone so beautiful be so sad?

Better yet, why was someone so beautiful so sad?

To be continued…

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