Lightsabers sizzled furiously with each blow, the air pulsing from the
energy. Through the darkness, Obi-Wan couldn't make out his opponent; but
he could sense the towering dark presence through the Force. The evil was
not a cold, calculating sort but a passionate, fiery anger- and it burned
against Obi-Wan. He tried not to let himself be afraid, tried to calm
himself, but it wasn't working. The familiar comforting blanket of the
Force was thinning, pulling itself from him with each passing moment. As it
did, he slowly became blind to his surroundings and his opponent. Suddenly,
the adversary had disappeared and he could only see the small area lighted
by the glowing blue of his saber. Obi-Wan twirled the sword around
anxiously. Perspiration dripped down his face, and his heart began to pound
furiously in apprehension.
The air became eerily still, and then Obi-Wan heard the faint sound of an ominous mechanical breathing. He couldn't tell where it was coming from; it seemed as though it were all around him. Suddenly, a flash of a red beam blazed to life in front of him. Without the Force to warn him, he was too slow to block the attack- the blade lunged straight into his stomach, and through. He gasped, dropping his lightsaber, which rolled off, now extinguished. For a few moments, the lightsaber remained in his torso as his body absorbed the shock of the blow. He looked up to see a familiar dark figure standing over him, achieving a feeling of smiling even through his mask. Then he yanked his sword out viciously, wheeled on one heal, and walked slowly away, his heavy cloak brushing Obi-Wan's face as the Jedi sunk to the ground.
Obi-Wan lay on the cold ground in the dark room, unable to feel anything but shock. Then a wave of agony hit him as his nerves came alive. There was no Force to quell his pain, nothing to grasp onto as he always had. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a tremendous cry of agony. His breathing quickly became frantic as it became harder and harder for him to get air to his burning lungs. As his consciousness began to fade, he opened his eyes slowly. Standing before him, glowing blue in the darkness, were hundreds of fallen Jedi. All wore solemn looks on their faces as their stares bore into his eyes; and at the front of the group were the figures of Anakin and Qui- Gon. Desperately, Obi-Wan stretched out a hand, reaching for his friends- but they wore the most disapproving looks of all.
*****
Unable to sleep, Padmé was roaming the quiet hallway restlessly, her velvet robe pulled over her sheer nightgown for warmth. Everything was still, until she suddenly was started by a muffled, though piercing, scream. Alarmed, she tried to listen for the source of the sound and finally deciphered that it was coming from a little way down the hall- Obi-Wan's room. She stopped outside his door, hoping he would stop, but the despairing sounds continued. They were the unmistakable sounds of a horrible nightmare.
After only a moment's pause, she quickly entered the room, turning on the low lights and rushing to Obi-Wan's bedside.
"No," Obi-Wan mumbled fitfully. "I'm sorry!" his words were muffled by his frenetic breathing.
Padmé was reminded sharply of Anakin's nightmares. They had continued even after his mother died, and indeed had gotten worse. She never knew what they were about, and felt powerless against them. She could only try to calm her husband and hold him gently until the tide subsided. Lost in these thoughts, she forgot briefly where she was and who she was with, and only wanted to help again. She reached out one cool hand and gently pushed aside a few damp hairs from Obi-Wan's burning forehead.
The sudden feeling woke Obi-Wan. His eyes snapped open and searched around blankly for a few moments as he tried to reacquaint himself with his actual surroundings. He felt a small hand on his head, and turned his eyes to see Padmé sitting on his bed. "Milady?" his voice was raspy and he was still out of breath. He tried to use the Force to calm himself, but it seemed strangely faint. All he could do was wait for his heart to stop beating so fast and stare in confusion at the young women.
When he spoke, Padmé snapped back to reality and reeled in her hand. Then she quickly stood up and took a few steps back from his bed, her cheeks reddening slightly in embarrassment. "I heard you yelling," she explained meekly.
He took a deep breath and sat up slowly. "I was having." he trailed off. Jedi weren't supposed to have nightmares. And yet, with the Force's calming effect dwindling each day, Obi-Wan had not been able to fight this one off. "I wasn't sleeping well."
"So I thought," she replied. After moment she asked cautiously, "Was it a nightmare?"
He nodded slowly, a little ashamed. Then, feeling a little uncomfortable with the situation, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It didn't change the fact that he was only in his sleeping tunic and she in her nightgown, but it put him at ease a little. "Yes," he finally replied softly to her question.
"Are you okay?"
He smiled a little. "I'm sure it's nothing," he said. But he couldn't get the haunting image of the Jedi and the accusing looks on their faces- most of all the faces of his master and his apprentice.
Padmé admired his strength, but wished he would open up a little more. Anakin had obviously withheld some things from her, but he had always made it clear what his emotions were. Obi-Wan was such a different person. She had known him off and on for 12 years, but even when they saw each other frequently, he hardly said anything about himself or allowed anyone to really get to know him. She considered him a friend certainly, but realized she didn't really know him at all. At least, she never knew what he was feeling. "It's just that. it seemed very bad. It might help to talk about it," she said, sounding foolish even to herself.
Obi-Wan searched the young woman's sympathetic face, and felt even guiltier. Wasn't it enough that he was had the memory of Anakin's fall to live with without having to confront his widow? He knew how strongly the two had felt for one another, and he knew the extreme feeling of loss Padmé must be feeling. "I feel that, if I talk about it, it would only upset you."
"It was about Anakin?" she asked softly.
He nodded in reply and looked at the floor. He wanted to confess his guilt to her, which grew on him every moment he didn't; on the other hand, he felt too horrible to say the words out loud. Finally, he mustered the courage to look her in the eyes. "Padmé," he said slowly, sincerely. "I am so sorry."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why should you be sorry?"
"For Anakin." His gaze was full of shame. "It was my fault he was never trained properly, that he was so susceptible to the Dark Side. And then it was I who pushed him into that pit. who killed him." He paced a few steps away from Padmé as he continued. "It's my fault that all the Jedi are gone."
"That's not true!" she insisted to his turned back. "Obi-Wan, no one blames you for anything- not for Anakin or the purges."
His head down and his back still turned to her, he said quietly, "Only because no one's left to blame me." He closed his eyes and felt the lonely emptiness and the dwindling power of the Light Side. He concentrated on his own guilt and pain, wanting to feel what he deserved. Padmé's touch on his arm startled him from his reverie. He opened his eyes to see her now standing in front of him.
"Everyone has suffered in this war," she said. "And it's not due to any fault of our own. It's Palpatine who's been behind all the destruction and killing."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Why should I be the one to live? I suppose. this way I can't escape the blame. Maybe it's my punishment to endure it all alone."
Padmé was a little taken aback. Did he really feel that alone? What about the Force? What about her? Weren't they friends? Couldn't he commiserate with her? "You don't have to endure anything, and certainly not alone."
He looked her stalwartly in the eye. "It is my burden to endure, milady. I'm not going to try and escape that. It's the least I can do."
She gazed back at him sadly, but knew she could say nothing to change his mind. What was it about him that resisted any help or positive feeling? He was so stubborn. With her hand still on his arm, she leaned up and kissed him gently on the cheek. When she stepped back, she saw surprise register in his eyes. "Goodnight Master Kenobi. I hope you sleep more restfully," she said with a friendly smile as she left the room.
Obi-Wan stared after her retreating form in confusion. How could she be so kind to him? Did she know how much more guilty it made him feel, that he had caused such great loss to so gentle a person? He had killed her husband. Why didn't she hate him?
The air became eerily still, and then Obi-Wan heard the faint sound of an ominous mechanical breathing. He couldn't tell where it was coming from; it seemed as though it were all around him. Suddenly, a flash of a red beam blazed to life in front of him. Without the Force to warn him, he was too slow to block the attack- the blade lunged straight into his stomach, and through. He gasped, dropping his lightsaber, which rolled off, now extinguished. For a few moments, the lightsaber remained in his torso as his body absorbed the shock of the blow. He looked up to see a familiar dark figure standing over him, achieving a feeling of smiling even through his mask. Then he yanked his sword out viciously, wheeled on one heal, and walked slowly away, his heavy cloak brushing Obi-Wan's face as the Jedi sunk to the ground.
Obi-Wan lay on the cold ground in the dark room, unable to feel anything but shock. Then a wave of agony hit him as his nerves came alive. There was no Force to quell his pain, nothing to grasp onto as he always had. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a tremendous cry of agony. His breathing quickly became frantic as it became harder and harder for him to get air to his burning lungs. As his consciousness began to fade, he opened his eyes slowly. Standing before him, glowing blue in the darkness, were hundreds of fallen Jedi. All wore solemn looks on their faces as their stares bore into his eyes; and at the front of the group were the figures of Anakin and Qui- Gon. Desperately, Obi-Wan stretched out a hand, reaching for his friends- but they wore the most disapproving looks of all.
*****
Unable to sleep, Padmé was roaming the quiet hallway restlessly, her velvet robe pulled over her sheer nightgown for warmth. Everything was still, until she suddenly was started by a muffled, though piercing, scream. Alarmed, she tried to listen for the source of the sound and finally deciphered that it was coming from a little way down the hall- Obi-Wan's room. She stopped outside his door, hoping he would stop, but the despairing sounds continued. They were the unmistakable sounds of a horrible nightmare.
After only a moment's pause, she quickly entered the room, turning on the low lights and rushing to Obi-Wan's bedside.
"No," Obi-Wan mumbled fitfully. "I'm sorry!" his words were muffled by his frenetic breathing.
Padmé was reminded sharply of Anakin's nightmares. They had continued even after his mother died, and indeed had gotten worse. She never knew what they were about, and felt powerless against them. She could only try to calm her husband and hold him gently until the tide subsided. Lost in these thoughts, she forgot briefly where she was and who she was with, and only wanted to help again. She reached out one cool hand and gently pushed aside a few damp hairs from Obi-Wan's burning forehead.
The sudden feeling woke Obi-Wan. His eyes snapped open and searched around blankly for a few moments as he tried to reacquaint himself with his actual surroundings. He felt a small hand on his head, and turned his eyes to see Padmé sitting on his bed. "Milady?" his voice was raspy and he was still out of breath. He tried to use the Force to calm himself, but it seemed strangely faint. All he could do was wait for his heart to stop beating so fast and stare in confusion at the young women.
When he spoke, Padmé snapped back to reality and reeled in her hand. Then she quickly stood up and took a few steps back from his bed, her cheeks reddening slightly in embarrassment. "I heard you yelling," she explained meekly.
He took a deep breath and sat up slowly. "I was having." he trailed off. Jedi weren't supposed to have nightmares. And yet, with the Force's calming effect dwindling each day, Obi-Wan had not been able to fight this one off. "I wasn't sleeping well."
"So I thought," she replied. After moment she asked cautiously, "Was it a nightmare?"
He nodded slowly, a little ashamed. Then, feeling a little uncomfortable with the situation, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It didn't change the fact that he was only in his sleeping tunic and she in her nightgown, but it put him at ease a little. "Yes," he finally replied softly to her question.
"Are you okay?"
He smiled a little. "I'm sure it's nothing," he said. But he couldn't get the haunting image of the Jedi and the accusing looks on their faces- most of all the faces of his master and his apprentice.
Padmé admired his strength, but wished he would open up a little more. Anakin had obviously withheld some things from her, but he had always made it clear what his emotions were. Obi-Wan was such a different person. She had known him off and on for 12 years, but even when they saw each other frequently, he hardly said anything about himself or allowed anyone to really get to know him. She considered him a friend certainly, but realized she didn't really know him at all. At least, she never knew what he was feeling. "It's just that. it seemed very bad. It might help to talk about it," she said, sounding foolish even to herself.
Obi-Wan searched the young woman's sympathetic face, and felt even guiltier. Wasn't it enough that he was had the memory of Anakin's fall to live with without having to confront his widow? He knew how strongly the two had felt for one another, and he knew the extreme feeling of loss Padmé must be feeling. "I feel that, if I talk about it, it would only upset you."
"It was about Anakin?" she asked softly.
He nodded in reply and looked at the floor. He wanted to confess his guilt to her, which grew on him every moment he didn't; on the other hand, he felt too horrible to say the words out loud. Finally, he mustered the courage to look her in the eyes. "Padmé," he said slowly, sincerely. "I am so sorry."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why should you be sorry?"
"For Anakin." His gaze was full of shame. "It was my fault he was never trained properly, that he was so susceptible to the Dark Side. And then it was I who pushed him into that pit. who killed him." He paced a few steps away from Padmé as he continued. "It's my fault that all the Jedi are gone."
"That's not true!" she insisted to his turned back. "Obi-Wan, no one blames you for anything- not for Anakin or the purges."
His head down and his back still turned to her, he said quietly, "Only because no one's left to blame me." He closed his eyes and felt the lonely emptiness and the dwindling power of the Light Side. He concentrated on his own guilt and pain, wanting to feel what he deserved. Padmé's touch on his arm startled him from his reverie. He opened his eyes to see her now standing in front of him.
"Everyone has suffered in this war," she said. "And it's not due to any fault of our own. It's Palpatine who's been behind all the destruction and killing."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Why should I be the one to live? I suppose. this way I can't escape the blame. Maybe it's my punishment to endure it all alone."
Padmé was a little taken aback. Did he really feel that alone? What about the Force? What about her? Weren't they friends? Couldn't he commiserate with her? "You don't have to endure anything, and certainly not alone."
He looked her stalwartly in the eye. "It is my burden to endure, milady. I'm not going to try and escape that. It's the least I can do."
She gazed back at him sadly, but knew she could say nothing to change his mind. What was it about him that resisted any help or positive feeling? He was so stubborn. With her hand still on his arm, she leaned up and kissed him gently on the cheek. When she stepped back, she saw surprise register in his eyes. "Goodnight Master Kenobi. I hope you sleep more restfully," she said with a friendly smile as she left the room.
Obi-Wan stared after her retreating form in confusion. How could she be so kind to him? Did she know how much more guilty it made him feel, that he had caused such great loss to so gentle a person? He had killed her husband. Why didn't she hate him?