Over the Edge
Chapter 8
By aznJEDI13
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all, no doubt about that. This story belongs to me.
Note: I've finally decided on a time frame. We last saw our beloved couple when Anakin was 18 and Amidala was 23, almost 24. Now, three years later, our heroes meet again. Fate has brought them together once more. It is suggested that you read the "The Deep End" first. It's been a while so excuse me if my writing sucks.
And these moments might just find a way into my dreams tonight
But I know that they'll be gone when the morning night sings
Scars, gashes, bruises – oh how they littered every part of his body, oh how they ached from head to toe.
He was fighting to stay awake. That's when he saw her. Angel – a vision – a reverie of a dream he had long forgotten.
And he fought to stay coherent, to feel what he felt around him. The blood had dried, the pain had ceased, and all that remained with an empty, numb feeling. The way it felt when she was gone.
All those lonely nights he had shared – all those empty feelings he had divulged in. Only to find that…
Padme was his heart.
As much as the Jedi forbade attachment, as much as he denied it himself, Padme was his heart.
He could no longer avoid the realization. It was true – deep down inside he still loved Padme Amidala.
But the years had worn into him – and her – the war had created a barrier around his would be heart. He blamed his master most of because he couldn't love anymore – because he shouldn't love anymore.
And yet there was this angel, whose voice he hardly recognized, who's touch he hardly remembered, who set his heart aflame in a way no one ever had.
Jag…And of course, there was the devil. Plagued on his right shoulder, seething, tempting him every step of the way, a countless battle tormenting him.
He was the last one, which made it harder, worst than he ever feared or imagined.
And he had to fight all by himself.
The way that Kenobi had hurt him was beyond any physical beating, beyond any injuries he could ever sustain – no it was much deeper than that. It was more than emotional too – it was like the life was drained out of him, pulled from his heart, strangled from any clutch he ever had.
Anakin Skywalker had been too weak too survive, too wide-eyed and innocent to live without the Jedi, without Padme…yes, Anakin Skywalker was no more.
Only Jag Darklighter remained.
And he was spiraling, into another world, another oblivion beyond himself, beyond life and death, beyond what was and what is…
"Jag," she smiled, playing with his bare chest, "Jag."
He stirred, "Yes?"
"How much do you love me?" she asked.
"Love?" He shook his head, "Who said anything about love?"
"I just thought I'd ask," she sobered, her hair dangling around her bare skin, "Jag…"
"Yes?" he answered, sinking lower onto the mattress, one hand rising to hold her cheek.
"How come we keep meeting? I can't make you happy."
He shook his head, eyes looking into the far distant, "No one will."
And the memories shook him, like short-lived clips of his life flashing before his eyes.
But she was here, somewhere in a distant part of him, that part of him that was still alive –barely – he felt her.
She was here.
But if all these dreams might find a way into my day today seem I'll be under the impression I was somewhere in between With only two being you
A figure slipped into the darkness. Eyes brimming with tears, as the smell of lilacs and lavender filled the room. It was cold and dark in this place.
A deep cavern into the world she tried so hard to rebel against.
The rebellion would flourish – thrive for the next few centuries – but today.
Today marked the end of her heart. Her life. Her existence.
She was to kill Anakin Skywalker.
Her very soul was in torment, in rage with her mind and her heart. A constant battle she found herself fighting so much, so long, so hard.
Kenobi's grip had been so tight around her neck, cutting off the air as fast as she could speak.
Her vision had blurred with tears – could Kenobi kill her?
It had happened so fast, the breaking of her arm, the wrath of Kenobi, and the dagger stuck to her side. Ushered into cell to kill him.
My beautiful Ani…
The touch of his skin, no matter how pale and bruised, felt wonderful against her hand. She would never forget this moment. The way his chest rose with his heart, his quiet breathing…
My beautiful Ani…
She cradled his head in her lap, touched the dried blood on his blond head, kiss his gentle brow.
Their final moment.
A last breath and she pulled out the dagger.
I'm sorry Ani.
To be continued...
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