Author's Notes: Still here? Still think I'm sane? Well, please go on, then, if you haven't rang up the authorities to take me away in a straitjacket! LOL. BTW, it does have a bearing on the plot – I don't just write things (well, not usually) for their own sakes; and, remember, you don't have to read this! I'm really enjoying myself, though

Disclaimer: Jedi apparently own nothing, but does that go for Sith, too? I own nought SW, anyway – all Mr. Lucas', all the time, and just utilised by me for my own twisted amusement! ^_~

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"ECLIPSE"

Part 10

"Do you believe what Count Dooku said? About Sidious controlling the senate? It doesn't feel right," Kenobi said sombrely, holding his hands together beneath the folds of his heavy Jedi robes; his injuries still stung, but he was recovering speedily, so had been released from the Temple's medical chambers. He had now come to meet Master Windu and Master Yoda in one of the towers of the Jedi Temple, just in time to watch the sun rise over the horizon, greeting the dawn of a new day, and simultaneously, a new era.

The three were talking amongst themselves about the recent events that had induced war to erupt; Windu stood by Obi-Wan, looking out of a window across the skyline of Coruscant, whilst Yoda sat behind them in his chair, a dejected look hanging upon his face; "Joined the Dark side, Dooku has," Yoda grunted disconsolately in response to Kenobi's query, shaking his head at the bitterness that such a factor gave him; "Lies, deceit, creating mistrust are his ways now."

Windu nodded in a reluctant agreement, "Nevertheless," he said candidly, "I think we should keep a closer eye on the Senate."

Yoda approved of this suggestion by his fellow Council member, "I agree," he nodded hoarsely, letting his head fall again, his mind awash with sadness and confusion – the Dark side truly was clouding their vision, and their ability to use the Force was abating; the balance had been tipped in favour of the Sith Knights, whoever and wherever they were.

Windu turned back to Obi-Wan, "How is your apprentice?" he asked.

Kenobi looked at Mace for a moment, before glancing away and sighing pensively, "He's recovering, which is the main thing."

Windu could perceive the trouble in Obi-Wan's tone; his apprentice was evidently causing him great anxiety.

Kenobi continued, "Things could have been worse, though…a lot worse; Anakin was too reckless yesterday, too wild and overconfident; he thought that he was invincible, being 'The Chosen One' and all, but he clearly wasn't. And he still isn't!" Obi-Wan paused for a moment, lowering his tone to an uneasy, yet composed level, "His arrogance made him feel that he could take Count Dooku alone, but he couldn't; and Dooku took his arm clean off with little trouble. With the Count now having drafted Amidala to his side, Anakin's even more incensed toward him, and wants to immediately rush off and get her back"; he shook his head, "When will he realise that life doesn't revolve around him? That it's not going to work how he wants it to?"

"Patience, Obi-Wan, patience, "Yoda said soothingly, gesturing downward with his hand, "Only as good as their Masters, Padawans are. Make yourself calm before trying to set young Skywalker back on the right path."

Kenobi nodded, shaking his head in apology, "I'm sorry, Master Yoda, forgive me. Anakin can be just so taxing sometimes."

Mace made a slight gesture of understanding, "We presently must keep faith that the boy will bring balance to the Force. He could be our only hope."

Obi-Wan made a slight nod in return, "Yes," he murmured half-heartedly.

"A definite turn, Senator Amidala has made?" Yoda queried, moving the conversation forward; the glorious yellow of the morning sunlight was now sprawling over his chair as it peered through the high windows of the temple towers, washing the small Jedi's face with its warm glow.

"Yes, my Master," Kenobi verified, "She unfortunately has. I'm not sure what made her turn, but I can only imagine that Count Dooku had something to do with it."

"She didn't look too comfortable with his company," Windu added, "Not when I last saw her with him."

Obi-Wan shook his head in disgust, unable to comprehend how the former Jedi had fallen so low.

"A great loss to our Order his skills were," Yoda sighed disconsolately, "A great pity it is that he now uses them against us for such affairs. A great pity it is."

"But we can't interfere," Kenobi rejoined frankly, "It was her choice, and there's little we can do to obstruct any truly legal matters; if she's signed Dooku's treaty, then that's that."

Windu put his hands to his belt, and rubbed the leather over with his thumbs, "It's true," he concurred, "Though we now have bigger problems on our hands – the Senator's departure will undoubtedly leave a huge puncture in the Senate; to see such a senator abscond to the Separatist movement will cause much controversy amongst it's unstable ranks, especially because it is one who had seemed so staunch to the anti-war, Republican stance in the beginning"; he sighed, looking out over Coruscant as it was bathed in the day's first light, "It's heartbreaking," he added quietly.

There was a short pause. Kenobi watched the traffic flutter by in the skylanes meditatively, before disclosing sombrely, "I can't believe that war has begun."

Mace turned to him once again, "No…neither can I," he agreed, going on to say, "The convenience of the clones being there for us when we needed them makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Something's rotten in the Galactic Republic, manipulating events to its own end; something truly malevolent."

"But, I must admit," Obi divulged, "Without the clones, it wouldn't have been a victory."

"Victory?" Yoda blurted out suddenly, his little head rising to behold Kenobi, "Victory, you say?"

Obi-Wan and Windu simultaneously turned to look upon the diminutive Jedi, and stared at him unsurely.

"Oh no, Master Obi-Wan, not victory," Yoda went on ominously, shaking his head in a reflective and grave disagreement, "The shroud of the Dark side has fallen." He paused for a second, glancing down before returning his sight to his fellow Jedi once more, "Begun the Clone War has."

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Anakin watched the traffic resentfully from the Supreme Chancellor's quarters, his arm in an inhibiting sling, and hung awkwardly across his chest; Giant Republic cruisers, laden with clone troopers, gunships and arsenal, could be seen ascending into the atmosphere of the morn, beginning their journey to the many corners of the Republic in an effort to defend it from the advances of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. War had indubitably begun.

The nurses had been reluctant to release him so swiftly from the confines of the Jedi clinic, but they had found in the end that trying to contain him was fruitless, and that he should just be allowed to do as he wished; he was old enough to look after himself, after all.

Anakin sighed sullenly, staring downward into space – he couldn't get his dreams of last night from out of his head; he was desperate to set off on a solo quest to find the woman that he loved and free her from that tyrannous Count, but he had no direction, and, despite his impatience to begin, he knew he'd just be wasting his time without a definite course to follow. The Chancellor had summoned him anyway, which he was thankful for – it got him away from the Jedi Temple and his overbearing, 'know-it-all' Master; Palpatine, in his eyes, was a truly great man, one whom he could confide in and be certain to get wisdom back; he may also acquire some inspiration from the Chancellor to help him on his way.

Anakin ran his left hand along the fabric of his sling whilst he reflected, feeling the hard, metallic skin of his replacement arm beneath it; part of him had gone with his arm, had been taken by Dooku, and the only fitting retribution for that in his opinion was 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth' – literally, this meant an arm for an arm, and he had no problem in levelling this score with the Count.

"Ah, Anakin, my boy, how good of you to come!"

Anakin slowly turned from the window and stared across the office, watching as the Supreme Chancellor entered the room; the elder man lightly clapped his hands together, and paced across the floor, his distinguished, senatorial robes brushing over the carpet.

"I live to serve, your Excellency," Anakin said humbly, his tone sombre due to his own inner sufferings; he bowed to the Chancellor as he approached him.

Palpatine nodded gruffly in response, and finally reached the Padawan's side, "I have been deeply upset by the events that have rapidly unfolded in the past twenty-four hours," he said sorrowfully, his icy grey eyes converging on Anakin's, "I realise that the Separatists dealt a horrific blow."

Anakin felt his inner self tighten in tension, and he looked across the horizon in distress, blurting out bitterly, without thought, "It feels a lot more to me." He swallowed hard, stalling for a moment, before turning his gaze back toward the Chancellor and hissing, "And I can feel nothing but hatred for Count Dooku."

Palpatine remained calm, seemingly unmoved; Anakin watched the Chancellor's face, certain that he was thinking about all the matters at hand, the weight of the entire, fragile Republic residing on his shoulders. The Chancellor, infact, was repressing something of a knowing smirk, but nevertheless allowed a discreet, chilling pleasure to inflame in his eyes; "Ah yes," he sighed calmly, "Our Separatist leader himself. Come out of his shell, has he?"

He stepped over to his desk whilst Anakin obediently followed him, and their conversation continued; "More than merely that, your Excellency," the Padawan replied, "That traitor ruthlessly took us all captive on Geonosis – my Master, Padmé and I, that is – and –"

Anakin paused, inhaling sharply, and looked into space as he gathered his erratic thoughts, trying to compose himself. Palpatine monitored him carefully, charily observing the boy's paralinguistics.

"He took Padmé from us," Anakin finally went on, "She decided to join him! And –" He swung his head to the side, his lip curling up; he didn't know how to deal with the rampant emotions raging within himself; "He just makes me sick! The way he 'touched' her, and…oh, I just want her back, your Excellency! Dooku forced her to join him, I know it!"

"Padmé has betrayed us, then?" the Chancellor asked, "And joined Count Dooku?"

"Yes!" Anakin snapped, continuing to rave on, "She believes this slander about a Sith Lord controlling the Senate, and tells me to 'try and understand' that she can't come back to it!"

Palpatine's eyebrows marginally rose and his eyes wandered away in thought.

"How can she join him?" Anakin shouted, pouring out his wrath onto the Chancellor, "How can she betray everything she's ever worked for?"

Palpatine turned back, untrammelled by Anakin's anger, understanding the source of his rage; he paced to Anakin's side and placed a hand onto the young Jedi's shoulder, "Calm yourself, Anakin," he purred soothingly, "They're not worth it."

Anakin swallowed hard, a distraught look on his face. Palpatine threw the boy a comforting smile, before continuing; "Padmé, I hate to say, has become a traitor, a traitor to the Republic…and this pains me as much as you, Anakin; I am so disappointed in her. She has joined another traitor, the Jedi turncoat, Count Dooku. Be angry with them, Anakin – you have done no wrong; it is they that have betrayed you, not vice versa. Don't let their treacheries fall heavy on your heart."

He patted the boy on the shoulder, and took a seat at his desk, relaxing back into the deep padding of his black chair; "Padmé played you for a fool, didn't she?" he abruptly asked in a quiet tone.

Anakin's eyebrows rose slightly, and he turned to the Chancellor in surprise, carefully studying his visage.

"She did, didn't she?" Palpatine continued smoothly yet unremittingly, holding Skywalker's eyes firmly with his own, "She lead you to believe she shared your love, only to leave you to die at Dooku's hands."

Anakin shook his head a little, looking away, seeing the duel against the Count flash back in his mind once more, where Padmé just stood to the side and watched as he lay in pain and agony on the floor, writhing as electrical jolts of Force Lightning pummelled through his body.

"Where was she, Anakin?" the Chancellor pressed.

The Padawan shook his head, "How do you know so much?" he asked charily in a low tone, glancing back to Palpatine's face.

He waved his hand dismissively in response, "I have my sources," he said nonchalantly, the matter not seeming of great significance to him.

Anakin felt his heart throb in his chest – was he right? Had Padmé left him to die purposely? "No, the Count manipulated her!" he retorted resolutely, determined not to believe that what Palpatine suggested could be at all credible, "He made her join him!"

"How?" the Chancellor shot back.

Anakin swallowed, before hastening on, "She said to me briefly, whilst I was still imprisoned…she said that he frightened her, and –" Anakin paused for a breather, thinking back to the events of the day before:

~

"I'm sorry, Ani…I had to join…him…"

~

"She was sorry, sorry about what she'd had to do…"

~

"I'm so scared, Anakin.  I'm so messed up…"

"I don't know what's wrong with me… but when I'm around him, I…I can't control myself…"

~

"She couldn't 'control' herself around him – he scared her and stuff."

~

"It's just that… well, I can't seem to do what I want to when he's near me…I can't feel what I know I should be feeling…"

"When he touches me…puts a hand on my shoulder, I mean…I feel a chill spread through my body; I feel cold inside, and scared… I've never felt like it before. I know that I want to break away from him, but I can't – something stops me, and I can't!"

~

"He made her feel cold inside, and she said that she couldn't 'feel' what she wanted to, or act how she knew she should."

~

"Anakin!"

 "I love you Ani!"

~

"But she said that she loved me," he finally added, his eyes refocusing onto the Chancellor's vigilant countenance, "She said she loved me. And I take her word for it."

Palpatine appeared to be intrigued by it all, and he remained silent for some time, mulling over this information in his head. Leaning his elbows upon his desk before him, he placed his hands together and stared expressionlessly into the darkness of his office beyond whilst the cogs within his head turned. Anakin watched him with baited breath, as though the judgement of the Chancellor over the issue was a life or death matter for him.

"I know that you love Padmé, Anakin, but – and please don't think I'm trying to hurt you – don't let those feelings cloud your judgement."

Anakin exhaled a little discontentedly, the response not one that he'd wanted, and placed his free hand onto his hip, again turning his eyes away.

Palpatine continued, "You told me yourself how Dooku 'touched' her, and made her feel 'cold' inside, how he made her lose her 'self-control'. Do you really think that he will stop there?"

"No, she has sense!" Anakin cried, swinging his gaze back toward Palpatine.

"Yes, but is she strong enough to resist this man? Ask yourself that, Anakin," the Chancellor went on gravely, his tone frank, "If she couldn't resist him in the first place, then I doubt she will gather the strengths to do so thereafter."

Anakin saw the truth in Palpatine's harrowing words, each syllable hitting him hard at his core; "But I love her," he said quietly, "It doesn't matter what happens…that'll always hold true."

Palpatine sighed, looking upon Anakin with pity, "Just don't hold much hope, my boy. The Count is a manipulator."

"No, he's…" he hesitated, "She –" He paused amidst his words, staring away out of the windows again.

Palpatine tagged onto this vacillation, sensing the nature of the boy's thoughts with his own acute, secreted powers; "What is it?" he queried, studying Anakin's visage carefully.

Anakin continued to stare into space, "I…" he dithered, swallowing hard as he recollected his disturbing dreams of last night once more, "I dreamt about Padmé and…and Dooku. He…he –" The Padawan shook his head, not wanting to think about it any longer, "What can I do, Excellency?" he suddenly roared, his fuse blowing, "Tell me how I can get her back from him!" He slammed his fist down onto the desk before Palpatine, his face livid with anguish and distress, "There must be a way!!"

Palpatine shook his head again regretfully, "As long as she is on the side of the Separatists and you are on the side of the Republic, you cannot force her back, my boy. I'm sorry," he bluntly rejoined.

Anakin turned away, shaking his head in denial, and took a seat on the edge of the dais, lowering his head between his knees. Seeing how troubled the boy was, Palpatine decided to rise to his feet and walk to Anakin's side; he looked down upon him as he sat on the steps of the platform, "You must make your decision now, Anakin: to fight against Padmé and the Separatists as her enemy, or betray the Republic, and myself, and remain her friend. It's not easy, my boy, I know, but we're living in a time of war, and there is no time for such irresolution."

Anakin swallowed his hurt once again, and glared ahead with hate, his mind focusing on the Confederacy's Count, "And Dooku?" he asked openly, glancing up to the Chancellor by his side.

Palpatine made a shrug, "He's a powerful man, Anakin," he admitted as he lightly strolled down the steps from the dais and paced slowly across the floor of his office. He suddenly paused around five metres from the Padawan, before turning back to him and adding inexplicably, "But not infallible."

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The birds twittered outside, and a bright stream of sunlight drifted in hazily through the pale curtains. Padmé groaned, stirring beneath the creases of her duvet as her eyelids slowly flickered open, and stared at the ceiling above for a long time. Sighing, she pulled the silky blanket right up to her collarbone and cushioned herself further back into the mattress below – it was so soft and comfortable that she had little intention of getting up yet; she'd slept extremely deeply last night, and she felt somewhat refreshed this morning, though still troublingly uneasy.

The harmony of the chirping birds outside was music to her ears, and reminded her so much of her native land that she didn't want it to stop; she only had to close her eyes to feel as though she were at home, in her own bed again, with the rolling pastures of Naboo stretching out in all directions around her.

'Relax, everything's going to be all right'

'Let out all your woes on me'

Padmé closed her eyes, strange voices resonating around the innards of her mind. She curled up tight into a ball, groaning to herself, as the utterances made her begin to feel a little nervous.

'It's all in the past. Don't let it both you any longer'

'Be at peace. Relax'

"Anakin," she murmured silently to herself, not knowing quite why his name had leapt to her mind; her face contorted in disquiet, and she added tensely, "Ani…?" writhing in the bed with a sudden restlessness.

'Perhaps I can help you sleep…'

"No," she mumbled uneasily, "No, you couldn't."

'Let go, Padmé. Let yourself go…don't lock yourself up'

She groaned again, rolling over from one side onto her other, clutching the duvet tighter to herself. Outside, the birdsong seemed to have markedly stopped…

'What's wrong? We're not frightened of the old Count, are we?'

She inhaled sharply, opening her eyes simultaneously as her memory snapped back into place and she finally came wide-awake, "Serenn?" she gasped. She looked to either side of her – the room was still and silent, and at complete peace; the sallow curtains fluttered a little by the far windows, stirred by a slight breeze that ushered under the door from the hall; the chamber had even taken on a certain warm edge, streaked with the golden light of the rising sun.

Padmé pushed herself up and held the quilt to her chest, shaking her head a little to knock her disarrayed hair back into place; the room was definitely empty and undisturbed. Her stomach churned as everything flooded back again, and her heart make a drastic cold pop as she set her eyes upon her clothes, folded neatly on the end of the bed; had she got undressed? She couldn't recall doing so, but…perhaps she had?

She swallowed hard, feeling suddenly light-headed – what had happened last night? She thought that she'd been with Anakin on Naboo, spending a wonderful time with him, but it soon became apparent to her that none of that had occurred. She didn't like this lack of knowing, this indecision or lack of confidence in her own memory; she recalled arriving here, at this manor, and even coming as far as this chamber, and, furthermore…well, she could remember Dooku coming in, but not going out.

"Oh, Force…" she sighed in distress, shaking her head and dropping it into her hands.

Before she had time to muse over her unpleasant thoughts, there was a brief knock at the bedroom door; she straightened to attention, clutching the bedcovers tighter to herself as her heart raced in shock. Hesitating, she felt unable to reply, so just stared at the closed door with an anxious anticipation.

There was a brief pause before, slowly, the door opened, and – to Padmé's relief – the head of an elderly woman peeped into the room; the lady was short and stout, with a kindly face and permed, grey hair. She turned to Padmé, and smiled warmly at her, stepping round the door, "Good morning, madam," she smiled kindly, a generous air about her, "I hope I didn't startle you."

Padmé stared at her for an instant, shaking her head in a stunted movement, not sure how to react yet.

"Oh, where are my manners?" the old lady went on, pushing the door to, "I'm Mrs. Tarso, Edna Tarso, one of the Count's 'housekeepers' if you will. It's too big a place for a busy man like him to take care of all alone, I'm sure you'll agree." She smiled again gently.

Padmé relaxed a little, feeling a rare sense of safety in her presence; "I guess…" she stuttered in response, swallowing briefly, and watching the old lady totter across the floor.

"My husband and I – Bhade Tarso, he's called, you'll see him about the gardens mainly – have long looked after this place. We've been servants here since before the Count even returned– he was a Jedi before, you know, dear. Only ten years or so he's been out of that Order." She stopped by the curtains and thrust them open with vigour, allowing the sunlight to pour in. Padmé turned, squinting a little in the influx of light.

"What a glorious day! Perfect for a walk in the grounds, if you feel so inclined, madam," Edna went on, giving Padmé a swift glance and another cordial smile, "Oh, but poor dear, you need to get your bearings first! I shouldn't be so pushy! The Count told me to make sure that you were comfortable, and to supply you with your needs if necessary."

Padmé looked down to her side and frowned whilst she unknowingly brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, listening carefully to the housekeeper's words; were they talking about the same man here?

"Can I get you anything, then, m' dear? Breakfast? A drink?" she continued.

"Where is the Count?" Padmé asked abruptly, looking hard at Edna.

Mrs. Tarso seemed to falter, the question seeming a little odd to her, "Why, he's out on business again. He won't be long. I'm sure he'll be back by the evening at least –"

"But, last night? Where was he last night?" Padmé then demanded, feeling an unwelcome headache coming on.

Edna seemed further perplexed by Amidala's inquiries, "In his bedroom, of course; where else should he be?" she answered, chuckling gently to herself, "Bless you, dear, you still look tired. Please feel free to sleep in a little longer – there's no rush. It'll do you some good."

"All night?" Padmé continued, "He was in his room all night?"

"I'm pretty certain, dear," the housekeeper nodded, a bemused smile remaining upon her face, "Now, can I get you anything? A glass of water, maybe?"

Padmé's brow remained furrowed, too many pieces missing from the puzzle for her liking; her mind was drawing a scary blank, and it unnerved her; "Er…a glass of water will do fine, thankyou," she finally managed to reply, her tone low and sombre.

Edna nodded courteously, "Okay, milady. I won't be long." She then departed, gently pulling the door to behind her as she left.

Padmé again looked around the room – it all seemed so less foreboding in the morning sunshine; but didn't most things? She gathered part of the bed sheets about her, and slipped off the mattress, walking slowly to the window; across the balcony, beyond the panes of glass, she beheld her current vicinity in its full glory: rolling grasslands reached out for several acres in front of her, lined by a perimeter fence, which marked the boundaries of the Dooku estate; these in turn were filled with various types of foliage, and even a few grazing animals were contained in distant paddocks, both equines and cattle alike; these grounds gave way to a massive evergreen forest, that seemed to completely surround this isolated area, and, even further a-field, far into the distance, the searing teeth of rocky mountains could be perceived, their peaks tearing into the skies and towering over the infantile forests around them. It was a magnificent sight.

Padmé pushed open the glass door before her and stepped out onto the small balcony beyond, taking a light grip of the barrier surrounding it. She took a deep breath of the fresh, pinewood air, letting the breeze out here cool her skin, and stared far off over the horizon; this planet was so at peace that the fact that war had just begun in the galaxy beyond it seemed incredulous; but her turning to the side of the Separatists – now officially the 'Confederacy of Independent Systems' – had also seemed incredulous but yesterday. Life often took these funny turns.

The wind whistled gently past her ears, and she stared blankly ahead, no focus in her eyes or in her heart, just a numb and dreadful emptiness. She inhaled deeply, feeling the tears again begin to pool in her eyes.

'I'll always love you, Padmé! Don't forget that! Never forget that!!'

She blinked, trying to hold back these incessant bouts of weeping; "I'm sorry, Ani," she sighed miserably, hoping that, in some miraculous way, he may hear her, "I'm not in control anymore."

She felt her knees weak beneath her, and it wasn't more than a few seconds until they buckled, and she slid slowly down beside the balcony banister, crying into the blanket that encompassed her.

TBC…

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NB: Hopefully Padmé will stop crying soon. ^_~ LOL. Poor girl…I am cruel to her…