YES! The story lives!
I cannot apologise enough for the extreme delay in this chapter... it has been sitting in various stages of completion on my computer for the past two months, slowly becoming the bane of my existence. I have never known a rewrite soooo painful as this one. Thanks so much and a million times over to my exceedingly patient beta, Temple Mistress, for telling me off when I wimped out on emotion in the story and then compensated by being overly emotional myself about the rewrite. (I mean, tears, bitching, throwing things across the room... not pretty...)
And also special thanks to Wyndmir, whose sudden slew of reviews on this fic just before the break rekindled my interest in trying to get the story done. Just to remind you, you promised me a review on every chapter darling, and you're only up to part 6! (laughs). Just kidding.
Other replies are after the fic, because after waiting so long... you really want to get to the story, don't you?
Quick recap: Anakin defied the Council's decision and left for Veenat-III with the purpose of rescuing Obi-Wan (held captive there for the past week and believed to be dead). Meditating on the way to the planet, Anakin had an unusually intensevisionthat almost left him trapped in the Force, until R2's intervention pulled him back out.
Chapter 9 ended with Anakin's arrival at the planet.
Chapter 10: So Near, So Far.
"And the wind that blows reminds me
of what has been…and what can never be."
Nickel Creek, 'The Lighthouse Tale'
It reminded him of home.
Sun-bleached tracts of sand stretched out endlessly before his eyes, broken only by massive outcroppings of rock. No animal cries disturbed the silence, nothing but the lonely whispering sighs of the wind over the dunes.
The striking similarity of Veenat-III to Tatooine had hit him immediately upon setting foot on the rough, grainy earth. The glare off of the sand had made him flinch, had forced him to squint his eyes tightly as he scanned the dunes for tracks. There had been none, of course. He hadn't expected to find any, not with the way that the wind tugged insistently at his cloak and hair. He had known that any such evidence would have been long erased.
But there was always hope.
It had almost made him laugh, that he was obliged to shield his eyes from the sun, after living so much of his life on another sun-scorched rock. The years on grey durasteel-formed Coruscant had made him soft, apparently….
If he closed his eyes, tilting his head back up to the sky, he was back on Tatooine, a young boy in the backyard of a junk shop, dreaming of being far away. Dreaming of adventures on far-flung planets. Of rescues and escapes and danger.
His dreams had come true, in the end. So near and yet so far from what he had desired with all the passion of a child's heart. So close to home, yet so far away. When he opened his eyes again, Anakin had to blink a few times, to remember where he was and what he was doing. This wasn't Tatooine. He hadn't been to the planet in three years now, and he never wanted to return again. It was no longer truly his home; home to Anakin was grounded in a person, not a place, and he would see nothing but death on Tatooine now.
Death and the shameful memory of his failure to save his mother.
Anakin took a deep breath, praying to the Force that the similarities between Tatooine and Veenat-III wouldn't extend that far. This time, he would arrive in time to save the person he cared about. He would rescue Obi-Wan. In a way, it would lay his mother's ghost to rest.
He would not fail again.
He would never forgive himself if he did. He had already lost one person of utmost importance in his life; Anakin didn't think he could stand to lose another. Obi-Wan was… Obi-Wan was everything. Anakin's heart lurched slightly at the thought, and he closed his eyes again, tilting his face up to the sky.
Please let me find him. Let him be all right.
If Anakin didn't succeed, he knew there would be nothing left for him on Coruscant. Nothing left in the galaxy. He and Obi-Wan were a team; they always had been. It was an ancient Jedi maxim true partners lived together and died together. And there was no closer team in the history of the Order than Team Kenobi-Skywalker. They completed each other.
With a guilty start, Anakin's thoughts turned to Padmé. How could he have forgotten about his wife, for Sith's sake? It had to be this mission, his worry about Obi-Wan. His Master, his partner. Padmé was his wife, his angel, his true love. He and Obi-Wan were complementary halves of a Jedi Team, but Padmé was the other half of his heart. He loved her.
But somehow, the thought didn't carry the same conviction that it usually did.
'It's just this mission,' Anakin told himself sternly. 'You're just worried about Obi-Wan. The sooner you rescue him, the sooner you can get home. Then everything will go back to normal.' He had to believe that, it was the only way he could continue. Now was not the time to think about Padmé, or the strange echoes of feeling for Obi-Wan from his earlier meditation. Focus. He just needed to focus.
The sun that scorched the sky to a washed-out lilac beat down heavily on Anakin's head as he knelt on the powdery sand, letting his hand hover just above the surface of the dune. Pushing any other thoughts out of his mind and letting his eyes fall half-shut, Anakin reached into the Force, causing the particles of sand to jump and dance under his fingertips. They slowly swept themselves to one side, revealing larger, darker clumps underneath.
Blood. A week of sun and wind had bleached it, had crumbled the clotted sand into dusty scarlet lumps, but hadn't erased its signature. Blood had been spilled here, and a lot of it. Anakin flinched as he gently brushed the sand with his fingertips, feeling the memory of violent pain ripple through him. His Master had been here, had bled here. Anakin sucked in a quick breath, and squeezing his eyes tightly shut.
So much blood….
Anakin's hands clenched sharply against the stained sand, crumbling it in his desperate grasp. He shook his head sharply. No. Even now, he was still sure that Obi-Wan was alive, despite what the Council thought, despite what Luminara had said. He was alive. Anakin wouldn't let it be any other way.
"I'm coming," Anakin whispered, dusting his knees off as he rose again, searching for any more clues to lead him to Obi-Wan's whereabouts.
Obi-Wan's wrecked craft had been easy enough to find upon landing on the planet, even though it lay in the shadow of a rocky mesa. The presence of something metallic in the sands had made a scan for the ship impossible, but R2's projection of Obi-Wan's last known trajectory had made the search simple and swift.
Anakin sighed quietly, biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the horizon, squinting into the ferocious sunlight. He had to hope that the trail hadn't lead to a dead end with this sand dune. Finding Obi-Wan's ruined ship had been easy, but so far it was the only part of the miserable mission that had gone as planned….
Long scour marks in the stone showed the passage of his Master's tumbling craft, culminating in the twisted wreckage that now lay at Anakin's feet. Had he not felt the battle between Obi-Wan and Dooku, Anakin would have wondered whether or not his Master had survived the crash. The ship was absolutely devastated. Anakin slumped against the ruined hull, covering his eyes with one hand as he trembled slightly. This was his fault. It was all his fault.
No ordinary sentient would have lived through the collision, and even most Jedi would have been grievously wounded. How Obi-Wan had managed to pull it off…Anakin couldn't contain the small swell of pride that blossomed in his heart at the thought, forcing a faint smile though his anguished expression. His Master had always managed to defy death, one of the few things he had in common with his Padawan. Obi-Wan would have laughed and said that it was a necessary adaptation on his part, considering Anakin's propensity for landing them in danger.
Considering the alternative in this case however, for once death might have been preferable.
Anakin pursed his lips slightly, straightening up to drum his fingers against the fractured vidscreen, now dusted with a fine layer of sand. The desert was already reclaiming the site as its own.
A despondent bleeping noise caught Anakin's attention, and he vaulted over the twisted metal to the other side of the small Delta craft, calling his lightsabre into his hand automatically. And relaxed instantly, as the origin of the noise was revealed.
"Arfour?" he asked incredulously, catching a glimpse of red in the shadow of the spacecraft, dark after the brilliant glare of the sun. He hadn't expected that the little droid would have been able to make it through the ungentle landing intact – his Master was not mechanically minded enough to fix a droid, after all.
A plaintive whistle and the astromech trundled unsteadily into the sunlight. Anakin passed a hand carefully over the deep scars on the droid's surface, noting how the insidious sand had worked its way into the crevices to begin gumming up mechanisms and disrupting normal functions. Astromechs weren't designed with desert worlds in mind – Anakin knew that well from his days in Watto's shop on Tatooine. How the tenacious little droid had managed to survive a week of these conditions….
Anakin could only hope that his Master was as strong.
"Arfour, which way did Obi—which way did Master Kenobi go?" Anakin demanded urgently. The wind on the planet had long erased any trace of the Jedi Knight's passage. Anakin could not afford to take a wrong turn. Not with so much at stake. Not without being able to rely on the Force to find his Master.
The astromech bleeped and whistled urgently, rocking forward on its stubby legs. Anakin turned back to the large dunes, frowning, then began to run.
R4's directions had led him to this dune after a fashion. Anakin had been angling in the wrong direction, when a glint of sunlight on metal had caught his eye. The shattered fragments of battle droids had told the rest of the story. The blood staining the sand was just a final confirmation of the facts Anakin had already known.
With a disgruntled sigh, Anakin glanced back over his shoulder at the direction from whence he had come, then forward again over the endless dune sea ahead. It was so vast, so boundless. How could he possibly find one man without the Force, without the connection that usually bound his mind so intimately to Obi-Wan's?
You're focusing too much on the negative, Anakin.
Obi-Wan's voice in his mind, quietly amused in chastisement. That had been the day that they had met Padmé again; Anakin had been so nervous about seeing her. Obi-Wan, of course, had been perfectly calm. He always was, giving Anakin the balance, the control, that he needed.
Just as the memory of his voice in Anakin's mind could bring him back into balance. Taking a deep breath, Anakin pushed one hand through his hair, considering his options. Much as his heart demanded that he rush forward, tearing across the dunes to find his Master, his mind held him back. Thinking rationally, Anakin knew that he couldn't do this on foot. Notwithstanding the amount of time it would take, there could be no margin of error – his supplies wouldn't last long enough. Obi-Wan might not last long enough. And Anakin knew if his Master was wounded that dragging him back across kilometres of desert wouldn't improve matters. Especially if he had to fight his way back out.
Analytical thinking had never been Anakin's role in his partnership with Obi-Wan. He preferred to rush headlong into battles and then let the Force guide his actions, much to his partner's dismay. Obi-Wan had always warned Anakin that his spontaneity would get both of them killed; Anakin was terrified that his Master was going to be proved right. Tactics were something that Obi-Wan handled, insisted upon, and followed to the letter, and something that Anakin was swiftly learning to rely on.
If the droids had marched a considerable distance, some of them would have dropped from the sand overloading their mechanisms. Hopefully, it would leave a trail that he could follow. Skimming low over the dunes would provide a better opportunity for visual surveillance… as well as a method of transport for quick escape….
"I'm coming," Anakin repeated softly, before turning to sprint back across the sands towards his ship.
---
Padmé sat on the couch in her living room, smiling politely and pretending to listen as Senator Organa spoke. Her ears heard the sound of his sophisticated voice, rising and falling in an impassioned speech whose meaning eluded her mind. She couldn't help but think another man, one who dressed simply, rather than the sumptuous fabrics and colours of her companion. A man whose hair fell in unruly blonde curls rather than neat and short and black.
Anakin….
She had had C-3PO contact the Temple on some pretext to learn his whereabouts, not a week past. And the protocol droid had pronounced that Anakin had indeed returned from his last mission.
She had been unable to find out anything more than that.
Now her mind was churning, anxiety twisting in her stomach. Where was Ani? Was he all right? Had he been injured? Why hadn't he come to see her this time? Generally, whenever her husband arrived back on Coruscant, he would spend every night with her in their apartments, making up for every moment they were forced to be apart. A brief interlude of passion and love, before he would once more be called away in service of the Republic.
And she tried not to be jealous. She tried to resist the cold anger that would twist in her stomach when, early in the morning, she would be woken by the sound of Anakin's communicator chiming. Hearing the sound of Obi-Wan's cultured accent, informing his partner of their next mission.
But sometimes, in those cold morning hours, after Anakin had pressed a kiss to her forehead and had slipped away again, in the hours before dawn when she couldn't fall back to sleep, she would hate the Jedi Order. She would hate Obi-Wan Kenobi and even the Republic for possessing more of her husband's heart than she ever could.
She would quietly hate everything that conspired to take the man she loved away from her again. And hate never knowing if that fond kiss pressed against her skin would be their last.
Sometimes, Padmé wondered what would happen if, on those dark mornings, she pushed the communicator out of her husband's hand, and drew him back down to her. What Anakin would do if she threw her arms about his neck and begged him not to go? Would he stay? Or was his duty to the Jedi – no, to Obi-Wan – stronger than his duty to his wife?
She had never tried it. And although she tried to tell herself that it was because she respected his allegiance to the ideals of democracy, and that she didn't want to force him to abandon that belief for her sake; the truth was darker. She didn't try to stop him from leaving because she feared he would stay and hate himself and his wife for it.
But more importantly, she didn't try to stop him because she feared he wouldn't stay. That he would leave her, and go with Obi-Wan…and be happy in his decision. It was in those grey, dreary morning hours that she would wonder if the deep looks she had seen pass between them really did mean something more. Even if they didn't yet know it themselves.
It wasn't anything that Anakin had said or done; nothing specific that she could pin down to her satisfaction. But there was a faint smile that tweaked the corners of Anakin's mouth whenever he spoke about the Jedi Master, a smile that was reserved solely for Obi-Wan. It was the way that Anakin ducked his head shyly when Obi-Wan praised him. Nothing concrete, nothing definite.
But it was there nonetheless. Whenever Obi-Wan called Anakin to go on a mission, her husband would answer without hesitation. If ever the Jedi Master decided to call Anakin for…for other reasons, Padmé wasn't certain she would be able to win her husband back.
"Senator Amidala?" Bail's cultured voice interrupted her thoughts, and Padmé came back to herself with a startled blink. Smiling apologetically, she tilted her head slightly, allowing herself to blush. The perfect picture of innocent embarrassment. Bail Organa returned the smile and continued talking, never once suspecting her thoughts. The world saw her as a kind but tenacious woman, compassionate and fierce. They didn't know the hatred that lay dormant in her heart, hatred that Padmé herself was ashamed to acknowledge. Hatred for the man who was slowly taking her husband away from her.
'Oh Ani… come home quickly. Please. I need you now….'
But she dragged her thoughts back to the present moment, leaning forward slightly to pick up the thread of Senator Organa's words.
---
The compound was dark inside.
Anakin instantly ignited his lightsabre after palming open the door, for the feeble illumination that the blue beam would give. Any air circulation in the building had long been cut off along with the electric lighting – the air was still and rank and oppressive, making Anakin wrinkle his nose and grimace as he cautiously worked his way through the low, twisting tunnels.
The very squalor of the place was indicative of the Count's departure; from what Anakin knew of Dooku, the Sith was fond of elegance and order, not this stinking hellhole of a hideout. Still, Anakin kept his lightsabre in the ready position, muscles tensed and ready to spring into action should an attack come without warning.
But the Force was silent. There was a residual taint of the Dark Side in the low tunnels and grim-looking rooms, but nothing urgent, nothing immediate. Just…nothing. No warnings of impending danger, no ripples of Force-sentience…no feelings of life at all.
Which meant that if Obi-Wan were here, then he was….
A soft sound made Anakin whirl, bringing his lightsabre up to strike – but there was nothing there. A few loose stones tumbling to the ground from the roughly hewn walls, nothing more.
Anakin resisted the urge to scream in frustration, every muscle tensed, adrenaline pounding through his veins. He wanted to meet some resistance, to have an outlet for his fear and frustration. He needed something, anything – any indication of life in this closed place to indicate that his mission had not been in vain.
Not that the first living being Anakin met would survive for long.
Robbed of that outlet for his anger, Anakin slashed his lightsabre violently sideways to scour the rock. Expecting the blade to connect with the wall, bracing for the impact that would jar him back into the present moment, Anakin was thrown off balance when it failed to encounter anything.
Frowning, the keen edge of his rage eased by the unexpected discovery, Anakin squinted into the darkness. He held up his sabre, allowing the pale blue to illuminate the gap that he had inadvertently discovered. The faint light revealed what seemed to be a passage; a deeper shade of blackness from the dark of the tunnel. Stretching out his hand, Anakin reached through the Force at the same time. His hand met only air, the Force whispered along the small side-opening, coming back with echoes of pain and blood and death. It was another route.
He was on the right track.
Stepping gingerly into the enclosed space, Anakin reeled backwards from the change in the Force. Dark, rank, insidious; it felt like oil as it clung to his skin and clothes, working its way into Anakin's heart as he slowly pushed onwards. He wanted to turn and run, to flee back out into the sunlight and let the wind scour his soul clean again. The sudden impulse was so strong that Anakin stopped for a moment, his heart pounding unnaturally loud in the confined space. He couldn't breathe. The air was too thick, clogging his lungs, creating a band of pressure across his chest.
He couldn't breathe.
Anakin stumbled back a step, and another, gasping in sudden relief as air rushed back into his lungs. His breathing was ragged as he closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow.
Master Windu had been right. There was no hope for rescuing Obi-Wan. He should just give up and go home to Padmé, who would hold him close and take away all this pain, all this fear. He could be safe there with her and –
Anakin froze, eyes widening as he heard the path his thoughts were taking. His lips curled into a grimace as he snarled, defying the irrational fear that raised the hairs along the back of his arms and caused his heart to race. He would not admit defeat. Not here. Not now.
He wouldn't leave his Master alone here.
Wrapping a blanket of the Force around himself, taking comfort in its light, and holding a picture of his Master in his mind, Anakin pushed forward again. Every step hurt to take, as though he was somehow being poisoned by the utter malice that was a very part of the rock. The glow of the Force he held close around himself faded more and more the farther Anakin went, fading like a dying star as the darkness grew deeper. Anakin could feel the stain of blackness infecting his mind and soul, slowly spreading to taint his entire being.
The corridor opened up suddenly; Anakin could dimly sense the space on both sides, though he still felt desperately claustrophobic. It wasn't the walls that were hemming him in; it was the atmosphere, the cloying, oppressive heaviness that pushed down on his mind. It would try to break his shields. If Anakin faltered for a second, that blackness would flood in.
Shoring up his barriers, Anakin groped out blindly with his left hand, recoiling instinctively when he met cold metal.
Bars. He was surrounded by cells.
Raising his lightsabre to eye-level, Anakin peered into the dim prison, seeing nothing but blank floors and old bloodstains on the ground. He kept his left hand close to his side after that first contact; his fingers were tingling and burning, saturated with Force-memories of agony. The stench of blood and sweat and fear saturated the air, overwhelming. Anakin took shallow breaths, scanning the rows of empty cells, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
This place was perfect for a Sith. Dooku had probably loved spending time among such strong memories of anguish, feeding his poisoned soul. Reluctantly, Anakin stretched out through the Force, breathing heavily as the darkness flittered around his perceptions. It pushed in on him, flooding his senses until he staggered sagging against a cell as he fought back the urge to vomit. Still he stretched outwards, sinking slowly to the floor as tears streaked his cheeks.
There. A deeper patch of blackness on the already stained and rotten threads of the Force.
Dooku's Force-signature.
Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had to be there.
Anakin tried to stand, sobbing harshly as his legs trembled and refused to support his weight. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. He dragged himself over the rocky floor, heedless of the sharp edges that tore through the fabric of his pants to slice his skin, pulling himself over to the cell where the Count must have stood for hours on end, day after day, to leave such an imprint in the Force.
He gagged as Dooku's malevolence leeched into his heart, his stomach lurching and his head spinning from the violating caress of the Dark Side. It was worse than when he had forced himself into Ventress' mind; it was far, far worse. The difference between a Sith Lord and a mere apprentice. Anakin wanted nothing more than to curl up into a tiny ball on the floor, to keep away the sickening intimacy of the darkness sliding over his skin. Anakin shuddered intensely, clutching the bars so tightly that the metal bit deeply into his left hand. But he didn't raise his lightsabre to illuminate the cell. He knew that Obi-Wan had to be in there, knew that his mission was completed, one way or another.
But he didn't want to see. He didn't want to know what had been done to his Master. Closing his eyes, Anakin rested his head against the metal, shivering violently even in the oppressive heat of the prison.
Obi-Wan….
Raising his lightsabre slowly, Anakin whimpered, hand clenching tighter on the bars. Blood trickled in a thin red steam down his wrist, staining the sleeve of his tunic, but he barely noticed, fixated on the sight that met his eyes. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was there, back turned to the door, huddled motionless in a pathetic little bundle. Anakin could feel the echo of his Master's fear, and desperation poisoning the air. He could feel the pain. The unbelievable, soul-deep pain.
Hatred seized Anakin's heart, hatred of the Sith who had dared to take Obi-Wan away from him, hatred for the Council who had abandoned Obi-Wan here, who had tried to keep Anakin away. Hatred of himself for being the one to put Obi-Wan here.
Everything went red.
Anakin screamed, a choked, sobbing cry of rage and guilt and pain as he slashed brutally at the bars with his sabre. Harsh, desperate strokes, devoid of his usual grace and effectiveness, each strike punctuated with a broken, gasping sob. He couldn't see the bars, his eyes blurred with tears as he swung the sabre again and again.
Kneeling on the rough, uneven floor, Anakin didn't have the leverage to cut cleanly through the bars, but he couldn't be rational, couldn't think of anything beyond getting through the last obstacle that stood between him and his Master. Hacking at the bars, he saw only Dooku's mocking face in the whirl or brilliant blue light.
Strike.
He wished it was the Sith who he was attacking, slashing the limbs from the old man in payment for his own lost arm.
Strike.
He wished it was Master Windu, begging for his life instead of remaining cold and sneering from his lofty position on the Council.
Anakin was on his feet now, screaming in mindless blind rage, swinging his sabre powerfully through the thick metal. Hearing the cries of his victims in his mind and laughing hysterically as they fell one by one.
Strike.
He wished it was the inhabitants of the planet, for building this stinking ruin. All of them deserved to die for allowing Obi-Wan to be hurt; the men and the women and –
There was a faint ringing noise as the last segment of bar was severed, clinking softly on the floor.
Anakin came back to himself with a gasp, panting both with exertion and the blood lust suddenly fleeing his mind, leaving a dull, tired sense of clarity. His limbs felt so heavy, his heart weak and sick, but he was focused again.
Obi-Wan.
Anakin lurched into the cell, collapsing next to his Master's still form. He hesitated, scared that if he reached out to touch the Jedi Knight's shoulder, Obi-Wan would disappear; that he would be only an apparition, a figment of Anakin's imagination. The Force wasn't telling him anything, there was no flicker of life in the sluggish, polluted currents to tell him whether his Master was still living.
Anakin's hands hovered anxiously, uncertain of where to settle, what to do. He wanted to grab Obi-Wan and hold him close, to reassure himself that this was real, that Obi-Wan would be safe. But he was scared, so scared, that he would find that Obi-Wan really was dead; that his Master had died alone in this cramped, dingy cell.
Anakin started to cry, tense and scared and alone. The darkness was pressing in around him, making him feel like a youngling again, when he had been terrified of the dark and would crawl into Obi-Wan's bed to be comforted. Obi-Wan was the only one who could keep the nightmares at bay.
If Obi-Wan was dead, then there would be nothing to keep those nightmares away, nothing to keep the visions of a destroyed Temple, a planet aflame, and the mocking sound of croaking laughter from plaguing his dreams. Burying his head in his hands, Anakin rocked back and forth, sobbing as the Dark Side swirled more tightly around him.
----
Anakin was crying.
Obi-Wan could hear the muffled sobs through the darkness and it pierced his heart. He tried to reach out, tried to touch Anakin's mind, to tell him that everything was going to be all right.
I'm sorry Anakin.
I'm sorry.
Don't cry, please don't cry.
Obi-Wan reached out blindly, sobbing soundlessly as fragments of his memories cut him deeply. He tried to reach Anakin, to comfort the younger Jedi as he had done for so many years.
He tried to touch their bond again, desperate as he met nothingness.
It's all right Anakin.
No. No it wasn't all right. Anakin was dead.
Familiar pain ripped through him again, and he pulled back into himself, away from the memories, the fragments that cut his soul, leaving it bleeding.
He pulled away again, and fell. Leaving Anakin crying.
I'm sorry.
He fell, fell back down into the darkness of his mind.
Alone.
----
Anakin raised his head slowly, hardly daring to breathe as he concentrated. He thought he had felt something for just a moment, a faint brush against his psychic barriers. It had been there for only the barest of seconds, forcing back the darkness long enough to touch Anakin's mind. A touch that was so familiar that it made Anakin's heart clench painfully.
Then it was gone. Anakin followed the touch instinctively, leaning into the void it left behind, following it as long as he could.
And started to laugh: choked, hysterical laughter though the tears that still streaked his face. He laughed in relief because Obi-Wan was alive.
His Force-signature was weak, so desperately weak, but it was there, now that Anakin had felt it once. He held on to that tenuous link, refusing to allow it to be smothered again by the reverberations of years of pain that this place held. He couldn't help the smile that curved his lips of its own volition.
Obi-Wan was alive. He was alive, and everything would be fine, because Anakin had found him. Making sure the beam would remain activated; Anakin dropped his sabre carelessly and pulled Obi-Wan into his lap. Anakin trembled at his Master's weight, because it meant that he was really there, that this was real. Anakin had found him. Stroking his Master's hair softly, Anakin examined what he could see of the older Jedi's wounds.
Obi-Wan's clothing was soaked with blood, all down his arms and concentrated on his left shoulder. Anakin gently probed at the wound, hissing between his teeth as the burned fabric was tugged away to reveal a vicious sabre-wound that hadn't been fully cauterized with the blow.
Obi-Wan's face was so pale in the gloom, though stained with dirt and dust and streaked with blood. Anakin fought back his tears as he caressed his Master's cheek, letting go a choked gasping sob at how cold the Jedi Knight's skin was; like ice, even in the oppressive heat of the prison cell.
And he had no pulse. Anakin froze, fingers pressed against Obi-Wan's neck, frantic at the lack of a heartbeat. His breath came faster, desperate, because Obi-Wan had to be alive, he just had to be! Anakin had felt him there, had felt his Force-signature! It might have been faint, but he knew that he had not been wrong. Dimly he realized that Obi-Wan didn't seem to be breathing either; he was still, limp, and cold in Anakin's arms.
Anakin had seen enough corpses during the Clone Wars to be able to draw the disturbing comparison.
"No. No, you're not dead. I won't let you be dead. Please Obi-Wan, wake up. Wake up, please. Oh Force, please… please…" Anakin begged in a tiny, desperate voice, rocking Obi-Wan back and forth in his arms as though soothing a child. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, curling protectively around Obi-Wan's body and resting his cheek against the Jedi's hair. If Anakin closed his eyes, maybe this wouldn't be real. Maybe he would wake up, he would be in his room at the Temple, and Obi-Wan would be all right.
"Fucking Sith! Damn it Obi-Wan, wake up! Wake up!" he screamed, suddenly furious at Obi-Wan for not responding, for not being there when Anakin needed him the most. His face contorted in desperation as he held Obi-Wan closer, refusing to believe he had been wrong, refused to consider that Obi-Wan might really be dead.
Anakin wanted to shake Obi-Wan, to force him to come back. He wanted to hug Obi-Wan, to tell him that everything was going to be all right.
He wanted to die here, alone in the darkness, if his Master was already gone.
Please… please don't be dead. Please Obi-Wan. Master….
A beat against his fingertips. Fluttery and light, gone in a second. Anakin caught his breath, hardly daring to hope. Please. Please. "Obi-" Anakin began, his voice ending in a choked sob as he pulled Obi-Wan closer against him, curling his body around the still form in his arms.
'Don't let him be dead. Please. I'll do anything. I'll apologize to Master Windu, I'll leave the Order and never come back to Coruscant, just please, please let him be alive.'
He didn't know to whom he was pleading, who would be able to answer his desperate prayers. He just knew that, if the opportunity was offered him, he would do anything, give anything, to save Obi-Wan's life.
In his mind, Anakin counted off the seconds, fingers pressed hard enough to bruise against Obi-Wan's pale throat. Waiting. Hoping.
Please. Please….
Again. Another faint pulse under his fingers, the barest flicker of a heartbeat. Anakin started to laugh, a shaky hysterical sound, tears still streaming down his face. Once started, he could not hold back the hysteria that poured out of him, shaking his entire body with sobbing laughter. Anakin wanted to cheer, to dance and celebrate in the dark cell, but reluctant to let his Master go even for a moment, he kept his eyes locked on Obi-Wan's face as he waited for the next beat under his fingertips.
The polluted Force swirled around him, teasing his mind with images of death and pain, taunting him with its whispers. Anakin shoved the questing tendrils away, focused solely on Obi-Wan. His Obi-Wan.
There.
Less than a beat per minute. But it didn't matter, because that tenuous heartbeat meant that Obi-Wan was alive, and as long as he was alive, he would be all right. Anakin just had to believe that.
"I'm going to get you out of here," Anakin whispered, leaning forward to mouth the words against Obi-Wan's ear. He didn't know if his Master could hear him, but he sent a burst of comfort into the weakening Force aura that surrounded his Master, willing the unconscious Jedi to know that everything would be all right. "I promise you, Master… I will save you."
Standing, Anakin clutched Obi-Wan's limp form against his chest, his cloak swirling as he Force-called his lightsabre back into his hand. His hand clenched around the hilt for a second, wishing he could drive it through the Sith who had hurt his Master, but deactivated it and returned it to his belt instead. He didn't need the light to see his way out; his panicked heart had finally calmed, just by being with Obi-Wan once again. He had his balance once more, had regained the light in his spirit.
Obi-Wan was alive. And Anakin could do anything with his Master by his side.
Anakin's arms tightened instinctively around his Obi-Wan, one arm curling around the limp form to cradle the Jedi's head against Anakin's shoulder. He breathed in deeply as he stepped out of the compound once again, shielding his Master's face from the harsh sunlight. Closing his eyes and letting out the deep breath slowly, Anakin held Obi-Wan a little tighter, reassuring himself that everything would be all right. They were together again. A team. And they had yet to meet an enemy that could deal with both halves of team Kenobi-Skywalker when they were together.
Striding up the landing ramp, Anakin shot a tight smile at R2, who whistled and bleeped happily at his Master's safe return. But that smile faded instantly as he glanced back at the rough compound, feeling the taint still on his skin, heart burning in anger for the wounded man in his arms.
"Destroy it," he hissed, pushing past the astromech.
END CHAPTER.
Hope that was worth the wait. I'll warn you in advance that chapter 11 might take awahile, since the school year at uni is ending, and all my teachers are passing out assignments like the world's going to end. (sighs)
Thanks to:
Liana-chan: There! More has been written. Not that you read them more than once a month... you still owe me a ton of reviews, you know. (laughs). Thanks for reading.
Rosalyn Angel: I'm glad you're getting more and more into the plot! I hope that this chapter continued the trend of "getting even better" since it almost killed me to write it... and that's not even exaggerating! No worries about the later review... better late than never, and it's not as if I update frequently anyways! (laughs)
toolazytosignin: I'm not giving anything away about the ending yet! (laughs). It's too far away for me to really think about as yet (but I already do know what's going to happen). Thank you for reading! It's always really good to hear that my work is of good quality. And I'll keep posting as long as you keep reading!
alchemy dream: SISTER! I'm glad that you liked the last chapter, and I hope that this one was as good even though Anakin was getting angst all over the place. And Dooku and Palps -- especially Palps -- are swiftly becoming my favourite characters on this fic. Palpsy will play a large role... I think that Dooku is going to be on the back bench from now on though. Glad that you liked it!
Yellow Jersey Girl: I guess more than 2 months after the fact isn't updating soon is it? Sorry... I'm writing this one as I go rather than having like 10 chapters all done and polished for posting purposes. I need to try to get ahead of the game after school is done for the summer... (lol). I'm glad tht you like the story!
Temple Mistress: Ah twinny... do I even need to say it? You really helped me pull though this chapter, even when I was all pissy and blah. Rewrites SUCK! I think next time we do this at the same time (and what in the hell possessed us to work on rewritng DWY and Chiaro at the same time?) that we both need to be tipsy on MSN. When it's just one of us, things are too lob-sided... (laughs). You rock my world, twinny dear!
whatever girl: Thank you very much; I'm glad you like it so far!
Brynne Eryn: Another dose of Desperate!Anakin for you. I hope that you like it! And I'm in love with Palpatine now as well, even if he is old and gross. (laughs). Writing him is like tapping into the Dark Side of my personality, and it is just soooo damn fun! I'm glad that his character is enjoyable. And Dooku was fun as well... just not as fun. And the insect Padme... well, that just might have been my thoughts coming through Palpsy's monologue. Just maybe...
DarkGirl5: I compltely agree with you on the Dooku/Palpatine part. In the ROTS novelization, he's honestly surprised when Palpsy orders Anakin to kill him... poor guy. Dooku was an amazing bad guy; it was too bad that he had such little screen time. I need to try and work out how he can be more involved in this monster of a fic... And btw, digressing in reviews is always cool. I love to read people's thoughts and opinions on characters... some times I take notes for future reference... (laughs) And Anakin has found him, yay! Now the real trouble can begin...
Monchy: Yup, another chapter! I love having my computer in my res room so that I can do a happy dance whenever I want (especially when I get an update from you! Yay!). I'm glad that you like my Sithly men, because you already know my absolute adoration of your Palpsy... OMG, I just loooooove that Sith Lord! And you're right; Anakin cant see yet that he's in love with Obi-Wan... but he's getting there.
Lea Nikkaya: Does this answer your question? (laughs). I hope that you liked this one as well.
Alley Parker: Thank you so much for saying so; I'm always a little anxious about getting the characterizations down pat. I mean, otherwise what's the point of fanfiction? I hope my introduction of Padme went well as well... (laughs)
Phoenix Red Lion: Ooooh, it's not over. It's FAR from over. As in I have up to chapter 19 planned out and that won't even be halfway through the story as I have it envisioned so far. I know... it's turning into a monster, isn't it? And yes, I am the angst-master. That's my job! (laughs). I've promised a happy ending for Solstice Night, but I've made no such vow for this story... guess you'll just have to see how it turns out, eh?
White Destiny: (points) Look! See? Obi-Wan's still alive for the moment! (no, I tease, lol!). I'm like Palps on this one... killing him off would have meant an abrupt end to the real angstyness. Bwahahaha. And Anakin saved him, so don't worry. I'm not saying any more than that. (laughs). Thanks for reviewing!
See the blue button at the bottom of the screen? Please please please click it? To prove Xtine that the past two months of her life as pertaining to this fic weren't a complete waste? (laughs)
Thanks so much for your patience... I do hope it paid off.
Xtine
