Feeling very sheepish right now. I didn't know this was set to accept signed reviews only. Oops. So as an apology, here's more. This is getting close to where I'm at in writing, so I warn it might be a little while after this before another update. Enjoy…
*****
Nine
*****
Blood soaked through Anakin's clothing as Obi-Wan rode through the forest, but he couldn't afford to stop and tend the wound. The blaster shot hit just below the right shoulder blade, piercing the lung and damaging a major artery in his heart. Obi-Wan was using all of his considerable strength to draw on the life-power and keep Anakin from choking on his own blood. Cold, clammy, and shivering faintly, his body was in shock and deteriorating rapidly. Obi-Wan pleaded with his equara to push harder.
He'd left the group with nothing more than a desperate look to Nauco, urging him to explain. No doubt the Jedi Master would demand to know where Anakin had disappeared to once she was satisfied the others were safe. He didn't want to waste precious time in explanations while Anakin's life bled away. Though Siesna had achieved some degree of technological advancement, it was still very much a primitive society as was reflected in their medical treatment. Even off-world transport to the nearest system with adequate facilities would take too long. Left to Siesna's provincial healing, Anakin's injuries would be fatal.
As Obi-Wan passed the first marker of the Milaera border, he halted reluctantly and waited for recognition from the primary sentries, silently cursing the delay. A flicker of movement in the ceiling of trees and a faint pulse echoed in the back of his mind. He answered it impatiently, and was granted passage once his identity was confirmed.
Eldalye, Forest of Secrets. Known to Obi-Wan and very few select outsiders as the home of the Quenya.
A sentry approached him. "Arda Kenobi, the Elders-" but Obi-Wan brushed past him resumed his reckless pace.
Anakin's breathing worsened and, coughing and gasping for air, he choked out "Please…don't die...mom…" Thrashing about, he almost unseated Obi-Wan in a frantic attempt to escape his hold.
Obi-Wan tightened his grip on both the reins and Anakin as he ducked under branches, around bushes, and through hidden pathways. 'Hold on Anakin, please, hold on.' At last he reached the final marker, and with a gesture of his hand and considerable concentration of energy, the blockade of trees in his path shifted. Where there had been a solid line of thick foliage and overbearing impassable trees, there was now a worn trail, barely visible, winding through roots and tree trunks and leading down into a valley so beautiful that normally Obi-Wan would pause to take it in. But the waterfall mists and rainbow flora held no fascination for him now. He felt only the bleak awareness of time slipping away from the passionate spirit of the Jedi wrapped in his arms.
*****
Anakin drifted in a sea of sand.
Rough and coarse, each grain abraded his skin with the ferocity of a sandstorm. Scalding heat beat down on him relentlessly, weighing him down and slowing his movement. The sand was everywhere, in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, choking him. The dry air seemed to mock his attempts to breathe. Sharp spikes of agony wreaked havoc on his nerve endings. He could feel all of this, but could see nothing. The universe remained an uninterrupted shade of grey.
He tried to call for help, but no sound emerged from his throat. A bright green light, accompanied by an all too familiar hum, flared at the edge of his vision somewhere off to his left. From the reflection of the lightsaber, Anakin could make out the broad forehead, broken nose, and hawk eyes of Master Qui-Gon.
He stood in a classic defensive posture, lightsaber in a two-handed grip, legs shoulder-width apart, knees bent, ready for an attack. It was a sight Anakin had seen so many times, and drew strength from: his master prepared to defend and protect. But he looked old, far too old even for his many years, and weary beyond description. And his eyes--Anakin's heart broke to see the utter desolation written there. Though Master Qui-Gon stood some distance away, Anakin heard the anguished plea clearly in the back of his mind, "It doesn't have to end this way."
A flash of blood red light seared Anakin's vision. The wind stole his tears as he watched his master, now a statue of colorless sand, crumble and drift on the breeze until there was nothing left but monotonous black. Darkness closed in on Anakin with ruthless determination, bringing with it a bitter frost that made his bones ache and his heart seize. His limbs became frigid, the scorching heat a forgotten memory. Anakin tried to block out the darkness and feel something, anything other than the complete numbness that controlled him.
"You're a funny little boy." Her voice echoed through the void of nothingness. Padme looked exactly as she had the day they'd met. Blue hand-woven tunic overlaid with a dull frock, her hair up in a multitude of braids, a quiet presence that did nothing to hide her angelic beauty. Anakin reached out to her, to touch, to feel something that would thaw his heart. But his hand passed though her as if she were simply an incredibly detailed holo-image. Looking more closely at the perfect artifice, Anakin perceived nothing of the shy, curious, and slightly teasing amusement that should have brightened her smile; the blank emptiness in her sable eyes made him shiver. He pulled back and the illusion disappeared.
Lost in the darkness of his mind, he almost missed the whisper of his name. Like the release of a pressure valve, his heart unclenched and the universe resumed its spectacular array of color. Anakin's relief was short-lived. Once again, red consumed his sight, almost artfully decorated on worn home-spun cloth. Anakin collapsed on the ground, tenderly lifting the battered body of his mother from the blood soaked earth. Her gaze locked on him, pain and amazed delight equally balanced on her features.
"Ani…" With a sigh and fragile smile, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. The shadows closed in again. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel, he couldn't see. But he could scream.
*****
Ten
*****
"There was no choice. Surely you understand that?" Locked in a battle of wills—and away from Anakin—for the past two hours, Obi-Wan's patience had long since been torn to shreds.
He had transferred custody of the young Jedi into the hands of supremely skilled healers who had been practicing the art long before Obi-Wan was born. Anakin clung to life with a tenacious grip and Obi-Wan had faith in him as a survivor; a man who took such pleasure in living would not give up the right to it easily. But his intention to stay with Anakin was thwarted when Ren'aki arrived at the chamber.
Ren'aki Nerae was the perfect example of who Obi-Wan should have been, at least in the Elders' opinion. She was both a leader and a follower; gifted, strong, and completely dedicated to her people. She was also stubborn, high-minded, and downright rude when she wanted to be and in most cases of disagreement, she and Obi-Wan ended up fighting like siblings. But they respected each other. And as his beliefs strayed further and further from the guidance of the Elders, she became one of the few who continued to support him, and his right to be heard.
He had to keep reminding himself that he respected her as she dragged him from the healing chambers, tossed him into her private quarters, and ordered him to talk. Experience told him it was wiser to talk and leave as soon as possible, than argue about the necessity of talking. So he told her everything.
And he was still here. With her midnight black hair pulled back into a single tight braid and deep brown eyes, Ren'aki could dominate the room or become part of the scenery with a simple shift in posture. At the moment, she was holding him prisoner with logic and reason, when all he wanted was to watch Anakin breathe. Rational thought was not his strong suit right now.
"There's always a choice Obi-Wan, unpleasant as the alternatives may be. But the Jedi's injuries aren't the issue. It's your actions the Elders question."
"I could hardly leave him there to die, Ren."
"You've endangered all of us by bringing him here. We don't have the resources to protect ourselves; our only real defense is misdirection and illusion."
Obi-Wan sighed. He knew that just as well as she did. But leaving Anakin behind would have meant death and that was simply unacceptable. "I had to do something."
Her face softened with compassion. "I know. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't. I'm not even sure I would have done anything differently. It just makes things a lot more complicated."
Pacing the room in a futile effort to burn off frustration and worry, Obi-Wan rounded on her with barely veiled hostility. "You wouldn't have put yourself in that position to begin with Ren'aki, and you know it. I'm probably the only one who's left Eldalye in years. The others have no true understanding of what's going on outside these borders." He swept a hand through his hair, a visible sign of his agitation, and headed towards the entryway.
"It's done, Ren. There's nothing I can do about it now. They'll either accept that, or – I'll be with the healers." He left, ignoring her protests, and followed the prompting of his heart.
*****
Breathing was a very painful task. As awareness slowly returned to Anakin, he considered that he'd always taken the small action for granted.
'In. Out. In. Out.'
Each breath was a concentrated effort in blocking out pain. After a few moments, the pain lessened to a dull ache and Anakin opened his eyes. He was lying in soft bed, his back and chest bandaged, in a circular room that seemed to have been grown rather than built. Vines, leaves, wood, and flowers stood as the only discernible walls. There were no doors, letting the cool evening air drift across his body. The place radiated the Living Force so strongly that Anakin felt like he could breath it in. Carefully, he tried to sit up, but the pain was overwhelming. He opened himself up to the Force that permeated the room and pushed back the pain, determined to find out where he was. But instead of achieving an upright position, Anakin found himself held in place by phantom hands.
"I don't think you're supposed to be up and about yet."
Anakin's head snapped up and he looked into the green eyes of his rescuer. Unconsciously, he relaxed into the hold, even as he railed against being controlled.
"I'm not sure I could get very far anyway."
The pressure vanished abruptly and Anakin watched as the mysterious figure crossed the room and seated himself in the chair next to Anakin's bed. Now that he had the opportunity to see more than a fleeting glimpse, Anakin absorbed his features hungrily, eager to learn more about the man in front of him. He moved gracefully, even sensually, his hips rolling in a way that dared Anakin to look southward; a compact muscled frame almost hidden by deep blue tunics. He appeared confident, with a deep-seated strength in his soul, but Anakin could sense an underlying sadness in him.
Anakin absently noted a mark on his right cheek and was uncommonly pleased that this creature wasn't as perfect as he'd imagined. Auburn hair brushed his shoulders and mesmerizing green eyes stared at Anakin with undisguised interest. While it wasn't entirely uncomfortable, it did remind Anakin of the way the masters at the Temple watched him: scrutinizing every move and thought, trying to discern if he really was part of that stupid prophecy. And how they could use him to their advantage.
The thought jarred him back into the present situation. "Where are the others? Where am I?"
"Welcome to Eldalye, Anakin Skywalker. What do you remember?"
'You,' was Anakin's first thought. He shook his head and tried to recount how he came to be injured. Their journey, the swoops, the blaster shot… "Everything up till I hit the ground. Are the others safe?"
"I assume so. Your Jedi Master seemed to have the situation under control when I left. I'm sorry I can't give you more information, but I was…slightly distracted."
"You saved my life," a rueful smile crossed Anakin's face, "again. Do I get to find out your name, or do I have to wait until the third time around?"
A playful smile lit up his eyes as he replied, "Obi-Wan Kenobi."
The face finally had a name. There were a million questions Anakin wanted to ask, but his eyelids grew heavy and he was desperately fighting the urge to yawn.
"Rest now, Anakin. I'll be here when you wake." And once again darkness closed in on Anakin as he surrendered to healing sleep. But this time, his mind was safe from dreams.
*****
*****
Nine
*****
Blood soaked through Anakin's clothing as Obi-Wan rode through the forest, but he couldn't afford to stop and tend the wound. The blaster shot hit just below the right shoulder blade, piercing the lung and damaging a major artery in his heart. Obi-Wan was using all of his considerable strength to draw on the life-power and keep Anakin from choking on his own blood. Cold, clammy, and shivering faintly, his body was in shock and deteriorating rapidly. Obi-Wan pleaded with his equara to push harder.
He'd left the group with nothing more than a desperate look to Nauco, urging him to explain. No doubt the Jedi Master would demand to know where Anakin had disappeared to once she was satisfied the others were safe. He didn't want to waste precious time in explanations while Anakin's life bled away. Though Siesna had achieved some degree of technological advancement, it was still very much a primitive society as was reflected in their medical treatment. Even off-world transport to the nearest system with adequate facilities would take too long. Left to Siesna's provincial healing, Anakin's injuries would be fatal.
As Obi-Wan passed the first marker of the Milaera border, he halted reluctantly and waited for recognition from the primary sentries, silently cursing the delay. A flicker of movement in the ceiling of trees and a faint pulse echoed in the back of his mind. He answered it impatiently, and was granted passage once his identity was confirmed.
Eldalye, Forest of Secrets. Known to Obi-Wan and very few select outsiders as the home of the Quenya.
A sentry approached him. "Arda Kenobi, the Elders-" but Obi-Wan brushed past him resumed his reckless pace.
Anakin's breathing worsened and, coughing and gasping for air, he choked out "Please…don't die...mom…" Thrashing about, he almost unseated Obi-Wan in a frantic attempt to escape his hold.
Obi-Wan tightened his grip on both the reins and Anakin as he ducked under branches, around bushes, and through hidden pathways. 'Hold on Anakin, please, hold on.' At last he reached the final marker, and with a gesture of his hand and considerable concentration of energy, the blockade of trees in his path shifted. Where there had been a solid line of thick foliage and overbearing impassable trees, there was now a worn trail, barely visible, winding through roots and tree trunks and leading down into a valley so beautiful that normally Obi-Wan would pause to take it in. But the waterfall mists and rainbow flora held no fascination for him now. He felt only the bleak awareness of time slipping away from the passionate spirit of the Jedi wrapped in his arms.
*****
Anakin drifted in a sea of sand.
Rough and coarse, each grain abraded his skin with the ferocity of a sandstorm. Scalding heat beat down on him relentlessly, weighing him down and slowing his movement. The sand was everywhere, in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, choking him. The dry air seemed to mock his attempts to breathe. Sharp spikes of agony wreaked havoc on his nerve endings. He could feel all of this, but could see nothing. The universe remained an uninterrupted shade of grey.
He tried to call for help, but no sound emerged from his throat. A bright green light, accompanied by an all too familiar hum, flared at the edge of his vision somewhere off to his left. From the reflection of the lightsaber, Anakin could make out the broad forehead, broken nose, and hawk eyes of Master Qui-Gon.
He stood in a classic defensive posture, lightsaber in a two-handed grip, legs shoulder-width apart, knees bent, ready for an attack. It was a sight Anakin had seen so many times, and drew strength from: his master prepared to defend and protect. But he looked old, far too old even for his many years, and weary beyond description. And his eyes--Anakin's heart broke to see the utter desolation written there. Though Master Qui-Gon stood some distance away, Anakin heard the anguished plea clearly in the back of his mind, "It doesn't have to end this way."
A flash of blood red light seared Anakin's vision. The wind stole his tears as he watched his master, now a statue of colorless sand, crumble and drift on the breeze until there was nothing left but monotonous black. Darkness closed in on Anakin with ruthless determination, bringing with it a bitter frost that made his bones ache and his heart seize. His limbs became frigid, the scorching heat a forgotten memory. Anakin tried to block out the darkness and feel something, anything other than the complete numbness that controlled him.
"You're a funny little boy." Her voice echoed through the void of nothingness. Padme looked exactly as she had the day they'd met. Blue hand-woven tunic overlaid with a dull frock, her hair up in a multitude of braids, a quiet presence that did nothing to hide her angelic beauty. Anakin reached out to her, to touch, to feel something that would thaw his heart. But his hand passed though her as if she were simply an incredibly detailed holo-image. Looking more closely at the perfect artifice, Anakin perceived nothing of the shy, curious, and slightly teasing amusement that should have brightened her smile; the blank emptiness in her sable eyes made him shiver. He pulled back and the illusion disappeared.
Lost in the darkness of his mind, he almost missed the whisper of his name. Like the release of a pressure valve, his heart unclenched and the universe resumed its spectacular array of color. Anakin's relief was short-lived. Once again, red consumed his sight, almost artfully decorated on worn home-spun cloth. Anakin collapsed on the ground, tenderly lifting the battered body of his mother from the blood soaked earth. Her gaze locked on him, pain and amazed delight equally balanced on her features.
"Ani…" With a sigh and fragile smile, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. The shadows closed in again. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel, he couldn't see. But he could scream.
*****
Ten
*****
"There was no choice. Surely you understand that?" Locked in a battle of wills—and away from Anakin—for the past two hours, Obi-Wan's patience had long since been torn to shreds.
He had transferred custody of the young Jedi into the hands of supremely skilled healers who had been practicing the art long before Obi-Wan was born. Anakin clung to life with a tenacious grip and Obi-Wan had faith in him as a survivor; a man who took such pleasure in living would not give up the right to it easily. But his intention to stay with Anakin was thwarted when Ren'aki arrived at the chamber.
Ren'aki Nerae was the perfect example of who Obi-Wan should have been, at least in the Elders' opinion. She was both a leader and a follower; gifted, strong, and completely dedicated to her people. She was also stubborn, high-minded, and downright rude when she wanted to be and in most cases of disagreement, she and Obi-Wan ended up fighting like siblings. But they respected each other. And as his beliefs strayed further and further from the guidance of the Elders, she became one of the few who continued to support him, and his right to be heard.
He had to keep reminding himself that he respected her as she dragged him from the healing chambers, tossed him into her private quarters, and ordered him to talk. Experience told him it was wiser to talk and leave as soon as possible, than argue about the necessity of talking. So he told her everything.
And he was still here. With her midnight black hair pulled back into a single tight braid and deep brown eyes, Ren'aki could dominate the room or become part of the scenery with a simple shift in posture. At the moment, she was holding him prisoner with logic and reason, when all he wanted was to watch Anakin breathe. Rational thought was not his strong suit right now.
"There's always a choice Obi-Wan, unpleasant as the alternatives may be. But the Jedi's injuries aren't the issue. It's your actions the Elders question."
"I could hardly leave him there to die, Ren."
"You've endangered all of us by bringing him here. We don't have the resources to protect ourselves; our only real defense is misdirection and illusion."
Obi-Wan sighed. He knew that just as well as she did. But leaving Anakin behind would have meant death and that was simply unacceptable. "I had to do something."
Her face softened with compassion. "I know. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't. I'm not even sure I would have done anything differently. It just makes things a lot more complicated."
Pacing the room in a futile effort to burn off frustration and worry, Obi-Wan rounded on her with barely veiled hostility. "You wouldn't have put yourself in that position to begin with Ren'aki, and you know it. I'm probably the only one who's left Eldalye in years. The others have no true understanding of what's going on outside these borders." He swept a hand through his hair, a visible sign of his agitation, and headed towards the entryway.
"It's done, Ren. There's nothing I can do about it now. They'll either accept that, or – I'll be with the healers." He left, ignoring her protests, and followed the prompting of his heart.
*****
Breathing was a very painful task. As awareness slowly returned to Anakin, he considered that he'd always taken the small action for granted.
'In. Out. In. Out.'
Each breath was a concentrated effort in blocking out pain. After a few moments, the pain lessened to a dull ache and Anakin opened his eyes. He was lying in soft bed, his back and chest bandaged, in a circular room that seemed to have been grown rather than built. Vines, leaves, wood, and flowers stood as the only discernible walls. There were no doors, letting the cool evening air drift across his body. The place radiated the Living Force so strongly that Anakin felt like he could breath it in. Carefully, he tried to sit up, but the pain was overwhelming. He opened himself up to the Force that permeated the room and pushed back the pain, determined to find out where he was. But instead of achieving an upright position, Anakin found himself held in place by phantom hands.
"I don't think you're supposed to be up and about yet."
Anakin's head snapped up and he looked into the green eyes of his rescuer. Unconsciously, he relaxed into the hold, even as he railed against being controlled.
"I'm not sure I could get very far anyway."
The pressure vanished abruptly and Anakin watched as the mysterious figure crossed the room and seated himself in the chair next to Anakin's bed. Now that he had the opportunity to see more than a fleeting glimpse, Anakin absorbed his features hungrily, eager to learn more about the man in front of him. He moved gracefully, even sensually, his hips rolling in a way that dared Anakin to look southward; a compact muscled frame almost hidden by deep blue tunics. He appeared confident, with a deep-seated strength in his soul, but Anakin could sense an underlying sadness in him.
Anakin absently noted a mark on his right cheek and was uncommonly pleased that this creature wasn't as perfect as he'd imagined. Auburn hair brushed his shoulders and mesmerizing green eyes stared at Anakin with undisguised interest. While it wasn't entirely uncomfortable, it did remind Anakin of the way the masters at the Temple watched him: scrutinizing every move and thought, trying to discern if he really was part of that stupid prophecy. And how they could use him to their advantage.
The thought jarred him back into the present situation. "Where are the others? Where am I?"
"Welcome to Eldalye, Anakin Skywalker. What do you remember?"
'You,' was Anakin's first thought. He shook his head and tried to recount how he came to be injured. Their journey, the swoops, the blaster shot… "Everything up till I hit the ground. Are the others safe?"
"I assume so. Your Jedi Master seemed to have the situation under control when I left. I'm sorry I can't give you more information, but I was…slightly distracted."
"You saved my life," a rueful smile crossed Anakin's face, "again. Do I get to find out your name, or do I have to wait until the third time around?"
A playful smile lit up his eyes as he replied, "Obi-Wan Kenobi."
The face finally had a name. There were a million questions Anakin wanted to ask, but his eyelids grew heavy and he was desperately fighting the urge to yawn.
"Rest now, Anakin. I'll be here when you wake." And once again darkness closed in on Anakin as he surrendered to healing sleep. But this time, his mind was safe from dreams.
*****