Chapter 43: Coming Undone

"Does it hurt?"

Anakin laid beside him, head on the pillow and eyes on the bruised face. Obi-Wan tenderly prodded his swollen cheek. It felt fine. Ached only a little. "Not as much when I first woke."

"I meant the back of your head," Anakin pointed to the back of his head. "Looks like you hit your head."

Obi-Wan reached for the back and felt a small lump there. "Didn't even noticed," he confessed, "but that may be because I have had a constant headache since I have arrived."

Anakin understood. He curled his knees up to his chest. "It's cold," he moaned. "Is it always this cold?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan responded, face looking up at the ceiling. The same ceiling he looked up for years. "It hardly ever gets warm. Even when you are under the sun."

Anakin scrunched his little face. "I don't like the cold."

Anakin's tour of the palace ended quickly enough. Anakin barged into his room without announcement or decorum. Not that Obi-Wan cared for such thing. He was quite used to people barging into his room without permission. And out of everyone in the palace, Anakin was the only person who he would have welcomed.

They both laid on the bed, not speaking very much. Just drifting in and out of thoughts. They spoke a few times, but most of the time was spent on reflection.

Anakin turned, taking a bit of the covers with him. "Why did he hurt you?"

Obi-Wan let out an uncomfortable sigh. "I may have said some things that angered him."

"Like what?"

"Nothing to get worried over, Anakin."

Anakin didn't retreat. "But, I have to know 'cause what if I say it too?"

Obi-Wan turned his head to the side, eyes meeting Anakin's blue. "It was about an old friend," he said to him. "Someone we used to know."

"Who was it?" Anakin asked, tone dropped to a whisper. "Do I know them too?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "She died long before you, Anakin," he informed the boy. "I was still a Jedi when she passed into the Force."

Suddenly, Anakin's eyes subdued. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you, but I'm quite all right. It was a long time ago," Obi-Wan reassured Anakin.

"What was her name?"

Obi-Wan pictured Tahl immediately. Tall for a human, dark-honey skin, gold eyes and that radiant smile whenever she saw him. She was so alive in his memories. He wished she was alive in his eyes. "Tahl," he answered with a mere breath. "Her name was Tahl. She was… like a mother to me.

"She liked to sing. Hum little tunes," Obi-Wan continued on as he reminisced his almost-forgotten past. "I used to fall asleep to them at times. They were very peaceful. In fact, I used to sing some of them to you when you were sick or sad."

"You did?" Anakin piped in interest.

Obi-Wan hummed a quick, soothing tune. Anakin's eyes widened in remembrance. "You learned that song from her?"

"I learned a great deal of things from her. She was a great source of entertainment and the only person I knew who could put Qui-Gon in his place," Obi-Wan chuckled a little at seeing his long-gone master surrendering to Tahl's orders. "Often read to me when I was in the healer's ward or played games to help take my mind of things. She was a good person. Compassionate and happy…"

Obi-Wan sighed, blinking back a tear. "I miss her," he confessed. "Sometimes, when I am most troubled, I think I hear her. Singing to me, as if she was right next to me, helping me overcome my doubts and fears."

Anakin scrunched his face in consideration. "Maybe she is."

"What?"

Anakin moved closer. "You're always telling me that there's no death, just the Force. Maybe she isn't really dead?" he speculated. "Maybe she and mom are right here in this very room. We just can't see them because we restrain ourselves."

Obi-Wan was bewildered, impressed and confused all at once. "I never thought I would hear my teachings repeated back to me," he admitted and turned onto his side, hands sliding underneath his pillow. "So, you're saying that they didn't die. They simply became part of the Force?"

Anakin half-shrugged. "Something like that, yeah. I mean, sometimes, I think I feel a presence beside me. Even when I'm alone. Someone who's sad and happy."

That would be a good definition of Shmi Skywalker. Sad, but happy that her son escaped the hellish life of a slave child. It was only unfortunate that he was trapped by madmen.

"You never mentioned this to me before," Obi-Wan said after a moment. "How long have you felt this presence?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Just here and there sometimes. I thought it was you for a while, but then… it didn't feel like you. It felt different." Anakin picked the edges of the blanket. "So, maybe it's mom and Tahl. Standing beside us, watching over us?"

Obi-Wan thought it over. It was a possibility. He never considered the idea that the dead linger. The Jedi Code did state that there was no death, but the Force. Perhaps Anakin was right. Maybe the dead never truly leave them. They become one with the Force and as Jedi, they can sense them, maybe even reach them if they grow more into their powers. Or maybe Anakin can. Obi-Wan already peaked with his Force abilities.

"Maybe you're right," Obi-Wan said after a moment. "Maybe it is really them, speaking to us and looking after us."

Anakin smiled. "I like to think so."

"Me too," Obi-Wan agreed. They were quiet for a moment, trying their best to sense or hear another presence. Maybe it was a bit foolish to do so, but nonetheless, they did.

After no response, Obi-Wan sighed as his stomach uncomfortable babbled. "I doubt we will be invited to dinner tonight," he said to Anakin. "You wanna eat in?"

Anakin's face fell. "I'm not allowed to eat."

"What?"

"Qui-Gon said I'm not allowed dinner," Anakin repeated and added to clarify, "I drove my teacher out of the library today."

Obi-Wan groaned inward. "Why did you scare off your teacher?"

"Because I didn't like her. She was mean. She didn't listen to me," Anakin defended his actions. "She treated me like I was stupid. I'm not stupid."

"No, you're not," Obi-Wan agreed, "but that doesn't mean you throw tantrums and be mean to others."

Anakin lowered his head, his gaze focused on something other than Obi-Wan. "It wasn't a tantrum. I was defending myself."

"Against someone who was instructing you in arithmetic?"

Anakin scrunched his nose up, but dared not look back to Obi-Wan. "She was still being mean," he pouted.

Obi-Wan didn't doubt that the instructor treated Anakin unfavorably. However, the reasoning might be due to her belief that he lacked formal education. Anyone who entered the palace to instruct someone by orders of the rulers knew better than to treat them with aggression or poorly. It would cost them their life.

Suddenly, ice formed in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps, it already did. "Will you see your teacher tomorrow?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin indifferently shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that she stormed out and then Qui-Gon took my dinner away from me."

She was probably dead then. Better to not dwell on the subject any longer or Anakin may ask the wrong question. "Well, you may have lost your dinner privileges, but I have not," Obi-Wan got up from the bed and headed over to the speaker services. The one Dooku set up when he kept him locked inside for days. "I wonder what I should order... hmm. Anakin? Got any suggestions?"

Anakin shrugged again. "No."

"Surely you must," Obi-Wan prompted him. "Come on! If you could eat anything, what would it be?"

Anakin pinched his brows forward in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess, spiceloaf."

Always the spicy things. Anakin loved any food that basically burned his tongue. "What about buckwheat noodles?" Obi-Wan suggested as an alternative. Anakin only scrunched his face up in disgust. "Fine. Spiceloaf. But I am ordering some stewfruit and beans too."

He pressed the button to order. Joline's voice came in on the other side, ecstatic to hear his voice again and asked how he was. Obi-Wan made the polite chatter before he sent in the food order. Joline promised to get it there soon.

They continued talking, spending their time speaking of pointless subjects and Anakin asking Obi-Wan if he thought Padme was safe. Obi-Wan ensured Anakin that Padme was safe on her own planet. Anakin nodded, but Obi-Wan sensed the boy's apprehension. He feared the Sith may attack her again now that they were not on planet to protect her.

The door's chime rang and Obi-Wan got up to answer the door. He clicked it open, expecting Joline with a cart full of food that they ordered and didn't order. She always liked to spoil him with treats.

To his surprise, it wasn't Joline or the food at all. It was a servant with a letter addressed to him. Obi-Wan read it and sighed.

He folded the letter. "I'm sorry, Anakin," he said to the boy. "It appears my attendance is needed elsewhere tonight."

Anakin shot up. "What? Why?"

"Who knows," Obi-Wan said, but he got an idea why. "Stay here, though. The food will come and you may help yourself to whatever I can no longer eat."

"But—"

"It'll be fine, Anakin," Obi-Wan attempted a smile to quell Anakin's fears. "I must get ready now."

And Obi-Wan entered the refresher, turning on the sonic shower to prepare for whatever the next punishment may be.

"Ah—right on time. Pour him a glass, Alwyn."

The servant to Dooku's right hurried over and poured a glass of wine before passing it to Kenobi's hands. Dooku watched Kenobi politely thanked the servant upon acceptance, however, the young man didn't take a drink. Rather, Kenobi kept an easy grip on the stem as he made his approach to him.

Dooku took Kenobi's chin and turned his face so that the light hit squarely upon where a lingering bruised remained. It wasn't bad and the swelling had certainly diminished. "You look good," he commented, letting his fingers drop from Kenobi's chin. "Does it hurt?"

Kenobi shook his head. "No, Master."

"Good," Dooku wanted Kenobi to pay attention tonight. "We have important guests tonight and you need a good impression."

Kenobi cocked his head to the side. "Another one of your deluded followers by chance?"

Dooku sneered at the remark. "Careful," he warned. "These guests do not take insults or creative feedback as you fondly refer it."

Kenobi smirked in response.

Dooku scoffed at Kenobi's fatuous attitude. "Now, let me introduce you to our honorary guests."

In the next room, Dooku introduced Kenobi to the two men seated on the leather couches. The two men smartly rose to meet them. Kenobi slowed his step, evaluating the guest with a hint of mistrust. Dooku imagined Kenobi did it for all those he greeted in the palace.

Dooku stopped Kenobi and kept him by his side. "Allow me to make the introductions," he said. "This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my grandson—if you will. Obi-Wan, this is Pre Vizsla, the prime minister of Mandalorian. And Tal Merrik, the Duke of Mandalore."

A furious recognition flared up in Kenobi as they were introduced. Not surprising at all, considering Kenobi's relationship with the former ruler of Mandalorian.

Tal Merrik unkindly peered at him. "I have heard much about you, Obi-Wan," he said. "Your affair with our faux leader was quite the gossip."

Kenobi's jaw hardened upon the insult to his character. If directed at Dooku, the man would have dropped dead by now. Instead, Kenobi took his first sip of wine. "I'm sorry I have yet to hear anything of you, my good Duke," he said in that pleasant manner of his. "My social circles rarely indulge in the personal lives of individuals we hardly know. We don't have the time, considering our actual importance in the galaxy."

Merrik's face creviced as he glowered at Kenobi for his impertinent remark. Not that Kenobi was far off in his observation. Tal Merrik was nothing more than an over-indulged child who believed power belonged to him because he was of some royal descendant. Dooku found Pre Vizsla far more respectable than Merrik, but they needed a royal figurehead and Merrik was easily manipulated into doing whatever Dooku wanted.

Not needing to cause an argument outright, Dooku indulged Merrik with a slight scolding to Kenobi. "Enough," he lightly warned Kenobi, sending a message quite clear through the Force. He turned to the guests. "Let's sit and discuss the reason you have come to Serenno."

Pre Vizsla and Merrik returned to their seats while Dooku took a single chair that was positioned at the head to show his more significant importance of all of them. Kenobi made no move to join them. Not at the beginning. But, with one look, Kenobi bowed to Dooku's silent demands and took the next available seat across from the two Mandalorians.

Dooku put his wine glass down on the side-table. "You sought for our audience," he said to the Mandalorians. "What wisdom are you seeking?"

The two Mandalorians sat further up, straightening their shoulders to begin their speech. "We came for confirmation in regards to our former ruler," Pre Vizsla started, tenting his hands near his chin. "After all, we were promised that the situation with her would be handled."

Dooku hummed, darkly. He knew what they were insinuating. And it appeared Kenobi did as well by the smug look on his face. "I see," he said, "and you wish to have confirmation on that promised arrangement, correct?"

"Yes."

Fools. To think their status granted them permission to test Dooku was a foolish mistake. Dooku found their lack of faith distasteful and dishonorable. While the former Duchess may not be in the palace, she had no chance of escaping Serenno. In fact, Dooku was more than sure that the Duchess already perished in the jungle. He had no proof, but her lack of appearance all pointed in that conclusion.

Dooku, however, kept up his civility as he was not an animal. He looked from Pre Vizsla to Tal Merrik. "I see... and, pray, what brought this sudden desire to know of the Duchess's hospitality?"

Pre Vizsla nudged Merrick, who took the hint. He reached into his belt and pulled out his comm. He opened a recording for all to hear:

My dear Duke. I have learned that Satine is no longer in the custody of Lord Tyranus or Lord Jinn. Word on Coruscant is that she has reached Naboo and is under the protection of the Queen. I must return to my senatorial duties, but I knew you needed to know.

The message ended and Merrick closed the comm down. Pre Vizsla pouted, his soured face morphed into an ugly child that Dooku would have flicked aside if it weren't for the fact he needed Pre Vizsla in control of Mandalore. "Is that all?"

Pre Vizsla bristled. "Is that all?" he seethed. "You were charged in executing that foul woman!"

"We made no such bargain," Dooku remembered. "We promised only to ensure she would no longer have access to Mandalore."

"And the only way to guarantee that is her death," Merrick spat, redness creeping up his neck. "So is this information correct? Has she joined forces with the Queen of Naboo?"

Dooku wasn't sure. He hoped it to be a rumor. "She had escaped the palace a few days ago," he decided to answer. "We are in the process of recollecting her."

"In the process?" Pre Vizsla huffed. "Is this how you handle things, Count?"

"We had a bout of incompetency among our ranks," Dooku said, but the steel within his words would have been sharp enough to make Pre Vizsla bleed. "But that has been taken care of."

"Like the way you took care of the Duchess?" Merrick remarked as his eyes darted off to the side, away from Dooku. "Are you amused, boy?"

Dooku looked over to Kenobi. Indeed, Kenobi was relaxed, arms draped over the chair's armrests and the corner of his lips tugged gently to displayed his amusement.

Kenobi's smile lifted a little higher. "Oh, most certainly."

The two Mandalorians fumed at Kenobi's cheekiness. Their faces turned red, but their intense glowers didn't intimidate Kenobi. The young man raised his brows and nonchalantly gestured, "Don't let me distract you," he said in a charmed voice that was overly sweet. Enough to irate the two Mandalorians. "Please, continue…"

Tal Merrick burned. His whole body shook in one long tremor. "How dare you! I am the Duke of Mandalore!" he half-shouted. "I will not tolerate such insolence!" He abruptly turned back to Dooku. "I want this scum reprimanded at once!"

Dooku cocked an eyebrow at the blatant command. Dooku's own tolerance toward the new acting ruler of Mandalore dwindled every second. He directed a look to Kenobi, but all he got in return was a challenging stare. Kenobi did not fear the consequences. Not that Dooku had any for him.

"Ignore him," Dooku advised, brushing Kenobi's impish behavior aside. "Now—if you wish to question our arrangement—"

"Yes, we do," Pre Vizsla reputed. "You refused to uphold the end of your bargain. You seem to have little control of what's going on and it shows with your refusal to discipline your grandson."

Merrick glared at Kenobi for a brief moment. "We are beginning to question if this partnership is even worth it," he said, looking back to Dooku. "After all, you and Lord Jinn have failed to deliver on your promise."

"The promise in regards to eliminating Duchess Satine?" Dooku said for confirmation.

"Among other things," Pre Vizsla added on. "The transition process has not gone well and we asked repeatedly for help in the trade markets. You have yet to address nor work on the problem."

"That is not my duty," Dooku answered, directing his next words to Merrick. "As you so eloquently said a mere minute ago, you are the new ruler of Mandalore. It is your job to control the planet and fix any of its problems. Not mine. We already provided you the tools and weapons to help you obtain the throne. All that we ask was the Duchess and your loyalty." Dooku lifted his wine glass from the table and drew in a sip. "If anything, you have failed to show your end of the promise."

"We?" Merrick repeated in doubt before it turned to an acrimonious affair. "We have done all that you asked!"

"You have done only what you wanted," Dooku countered. "We did not ask you to overthrow your own government. We asked that when the time came, you give us the Duchess to take care of. We provided you with the weapons needed to win that battle. I even invited you into my home, after showing up unannounced.

"Then you come into my home, drink my wine and then belittle me and shout out demands from me," Dooku's voice grew heavier, darker, the dark side answering to his call. "And what? What were you hoping to obtain from using such… brute manners?"

Merrick and Pre Vizsla said nothing, already aware that they trespassed into dangerous terroitory. Pre Vizsla seemed to have a good understanding, dropping his head in respect to Dooku. "We wanted to—"

Merrick, the squirmy hapless ruler, interrupted Pre Vizsla's attempt to defuse the situation. "You left us no choice!" Merrick shouted. "After we got that message, we came at once. Imagine our surprise to discover that she's not dead!"

"It wasn't our arrangement to kill the girl."

"She's not a girl!" Merrick spat, making Dooku irk at the slobber falling onto his pricey rug. "She's a formable threat that should have been taken care of on the first day." Merrick stood up from his chair, face rigid in anger. "If you will not do what is necessary, then I shall. I'll kill the bitch myself."

Merrick nudged Pre Vizsla to get up as well. "We will leave," he decided, arrogantly like he was the most valuable person in the room. "Mandalore officially parts with this alliance."

Dooku's teeth grinded together. "Is that so?" he questioned, dangerously. Yet, the Mandalorians missed it entirely. "And, pray tell me, how do you expect to be received in the Senate? I mean, how will you explain what happened to the Duchess? Or how the Death Watch got to power? I'm sure even the Jedi will be interested in hearing the story."

Merrick stopped, realizing the unescapable situation presented to him. But a cruel, ugly smile popped onto his face. "Mandalore has been around long before the Republic and shall continue to live on way past it as well," he boasted. "I share none of your worries about that weak government anyway.

"And as for the Duchess," he sneered, gaze shifting from Dooku to Kenobi. "Pre Vizsla is good at finding people. He'll find the whore and when he do, I'll fuck her so hard, she'll bleed. Then I'll pass her along to my companions to share before we cut her throat out.

"But I'm feeling generous," Merrick's devilish grin remained, gleeful at Kenobi's downturned expression. "I know how much you love Satine, so I'll send you her heart. All broken and cut to bits."

Dooku had the nerve to snap the new duke's neck. His arrogance and inflated ego made him think he was untouchable, that he could easily deck out threats to them or change the power status between them.

It was time to remind Tal Merrick and Pre Vizsla of their place. And it wasn't where they believed they belonged.

Merrick stepped away from his chair, moving to the door when he stuttered and bumbled to a stop. He coughed. Hacked, more like it. His fingers vigorously rubbed along his esphoagus. He let out another hack, but he found himself unable to suck in more air to relieve himself.

Same with Pre Vizsla. He rose up to assist Tal Merrick, but he too faltered. His hands reached for his throat, face straining and veins bulging along his neck.

Dooku narrowed his eyes. This was the work of the Force, but Dooku wasn't utilizing it at the moment. That meant…

He turned and saw Kenobi. He was still seated, but his livid eyes never strayed from the two Mandalorians. His frowned deepened and his hands, both clutched into fists. The dark side roiled, amassing in waves of a strong current.

Dooku reached out, sinking his claws into Kenobi's Force presence. Not that Kenobi noticed. Far too focused on the Mandalorian threats. But, Dooku sensed the anger, the fear that consumed the brightness within his soul. Satine. The Duchess of Mandalore. The young girl Qui-Gon said Obi-Wan loved as a teenager. Kenobi's whole heart burst with love for the girl and Merrick's threat to her shifted that love enough into the growing fear residing in Kenobi.

And now, Dooku watched Kenobi suffocate the Mandalorians for their bullish attempt to hold all the cards in their hands. Did they truly think they would leave Serenno unscathed? Or even alive?

Fools, Dooku thought as he reclined in his seat, watching them witness the true power Dooku owned.

Dooku proudly viewed the two Mandalorians struggled for breath. Their throats collapsing in as their last gasps turned to a suffocating silence. Dooku gleamed as Kenobi forcibly choked their rudeness into submission.

But, a strange realization fell upon Kenobi's face. The young man looked alarmed as he uncurled his fingers in an instant. Merrick and Pre Vizsla dropped, falling over themselves as their lungs heaved for air to recuperate from their near death experience.

Meanwhile, Kenobi quivered where he stood. His hands fidgeting in some desperate attempt to grab onto something to steady himself. All the heated energy radiating off him evaporated and Kenobi fell back in his seat as well, eyes looking downward at his trembling hands.

Dooku sighed. Admittedly, he was not overly disappointed. It was a good start down the right path. He looked back to Merrick and Pre Vizsla, his face morphed into a serious contender. "I think we spared enough of our time listening to your complaints," he said. "I believe we are at an understanding now. Unless, the message wasn't quite clear?"

Both Merrick and Pre Vizsla obediently shook their heads. Quick learners, Dooku thought as he got up from his seat. "I'll have the guards escort you to your ship," he said. "Next time you feel the need to question our legitimacy, I hope you remember this."

Dooku tapped Kenobi's shoulders to follow. At first, the young man didn't move. Still frozen and he looked cold. Dooku used the Force to tug him along and Kenobi got the hint to follow him as the guards came to aid the two Mandalorians from the floor.

They exited the room, strolling down the corridors of the palace. Dooku didn't say a word. He watched Kenobi from the corner of his eye, observing every fidget, blink and breath Kenobi made as the young man tried to convince himself of the lie.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Dooku finally said, garnering Kenobi's attention at last. "They deserved it."

"I-I don't know what you mean."

Dooku chuckled. "You do," he said, staring down at Kenobi. The young man looked absolutely miserable. He softened his tone, sounding far gentler than he ever was for Kenobi. "It gets easier. Once you get through the pain, it'll be easier. I promise."

Kenobi screeched to a halt. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he half-shouted, breathless. "I didn't do anything! You did! You… you hurt them."

"Oh—I wished I did," Dooku dreamt of the ways he wanted to slice and dice Merrick. "But, you seemed to be handling them quite well on your own."

"I didn't do anything!"

Dooku flashed a smooth and knowing smile. "Of course," he said. "Whatever you tell yourself to get you through it."

Kenobi's eyes burned. There was fire beneath that cool glare. Enough to make the dark side flare up within the young man.

Dooku grinned in victory. "It's late," he decided, although he's gone to bed much later than before. "You need your sleep if you wish to feel better by the morning."

He waved a set of guards. "Return him to his chambers," he ordered and the magnaguard droids boxed Kenobi in, pressuring him to move.

Dooku stayed where he was and watched Kenobi walk off, the oily tendrils of the dark side still clinging to him despite his attempts to shed them off. Dooku couldn't be more pleased by the outcome of tonight's entertainment. Kenobi finally and willingly used the dark side. Something that even Qui-Gon struggled to get his old padawan to do all through their years together.

All Dooku had to do was put Kenobi in a room that threatened the life of the woman he loved most in the galaxy. All too easy.

With a winning smirk etched on his face, Dooku headed back to his office, planning out other exercises for their chosen heir.

Obi-Wan never felt so violently sick in his life. He wanted nothing more than to vomit out the vile that wretched his guts and poisoned his body. But it wouldn't do anything. It wouldn't numb the pain or erase the cold feeling that encased him in constant shivers. It wasn't a physical illness at all.

It was a Force illness. It had to be that. He didn't... no, he wouldn't...

Obi-Wan pictured his hands curled. He remembered his thoughts, the angry roars inside his head as he desired to end Satine's tormentors once and for all. His heart thundered at the mere threats Tal Merrick and Pre Vizsla issued against her. All Obi-Wan knew was that he needed to protect Satine. Save her from such horrendous monsters that were loose upon the galaxy.

He was doing the right thing. He was protecting her. Stopping the villains from hurting her and others. He was saving them. Saving her…

And then he remembered what he did. He recalled the Mandalorians struggling for breath and Dooku… oh Force! He saw Dooku's lips curled into a pride. It made Obi-Wan's stomach lurch.

Dooku was so pleased! He even smiled at him. Smiled so wide that Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. Dooku acted like he already won the battle between them. His talk afterwards showed some care, but it was more mockery than anything. At least, to Obi-Wan it was.

No, Obi-Wan couldn't let Dooku win. He wouldn't let the Sith win.

When the guards got him to the door, Obi-Wan hurried in and slammed it shut. To his mild surprise, he found Anakin still in his room, surrounded by half-eaten food from the dinner Obi-Wan ordered.

The boy was sound asleep, falling into a food coma. He didn't even hear Obi-Wan enter his chambers again.

Obi-Wan hurried to Anakin's side and gently shook him awake. "Anakin? Anakin?" he whispered in urgency. "Wake up!"

Anakin sleepily blinked. He curled up his nose, unhappy to be forced awake from a pleasant sleep. He yawned and stretched his muscles awake. "What is it?" he muttered, rubbing his fists in his eyes. "What's going on?"

"We're leaving," Obi-Wan said, lifting Anakin right off the bed. "Now."