Fading Light
"Anakin," the sweet voice spoke to him. He turned aside, looking back at her. His beautiful wife, Padmé, stood smiling back at him. Her soft curls, her brown eyes, everything about her was wonderful, perfect.
He crossed the veranda, coming to stand next to her. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, they looked over the Coruscanti square. He heard her sigh, contentedly, as she rested her head against his shoulder. "If only for one moment, everything seems perfect," she said, a slight note of remorse in her voice.
He felt a slight smile cross his face, "Don't worry about anything, Padmé. Everything is going to be fine."
She looked back at him, as if she heard the uncertainty in his voice. "What are we going to do?"
"I promise you, Padmé," he reassured her. "Everything will be alright."
"No," she shook her head. A look of pain washed over her face, "No, Anakin, you can't save me."
"What?"
"It's too late." she said weakly, "you failed me."
Anakin sat up with a start. It was a dream, it was all a dream. Gazing around the room, he quickly remembered where he was. He was on Tatooine in the home of Owen and Beru Lars. He turned, throwing his feet over the side of the bed and letting them drop to the cold ground. Cold ground, it was kind of ironic on Tatooine, but it seemed fitting for his mood.
Outside, the sandstorm continued to howl, though it's strength had waned. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, willing himself to forget the dream, but like all the dreams he had, it remained.
Rising abruptly, he paced the room. I will not be a failure. I will not be the cause of suffering. Padmé, I will find you.
Reality seemed to hit then, and he sunk back down on to the bed. Running his hands through his hair, he realized, like it or not, he was failing those that he loved.
Only hours before, Owen had recounted the visit of Obi-Wan and Padmé.
"She didn't look well," Owen had said. "She was pale and seemed upset. Beru didn't want them to risk traveling further, but that Jedi insisted. If it weren't for the sandstorm, I don't think they even would have stopped."
Anakin clenched his fists. The gears and motors protested in the crushing power of his mechanical hand. How could Obi-Wan do this? How could Obi-Wan risk her life, drag her away from me?
The dream of Padmé dying came flooding back to him. If she dies . . .Obi-Wan will pay. Rage built up inside him. Then, just as suddenly as his anger had boiled, he calmed. Obi-Wan. He was the cause of all this . . . but he was also the only person that could lead Anakin to Padmé.
Anakin knew he couldn't remain anymore. Moving out of the chamber, he pulled his robe around himself. He crossed the foyer and stood just a few feet before the door. As he drew up his hood, he heard a soft scuff of a shoe against the floor. He turned to see Owen and Beru standing behind him.
"Where are you going at this time of night?" Owen asked.
"I'm going to find my wife," Anakin said plainly.
"Anakin," Beru began, both tentative and apologetic, "We didn't know that you two had been married. If we had . . ."
"If we'd known," Owen said, "I wouldn't have let that Jedi drag her away from here."
Owen wasn't helping Anakin's mood. The Jedi turned away, stepping toward the door. "Anakin!" Owen called, "Come back, I'm sure the storm is still-"
"It doesn't matter," Anakin called, wrapping a thick cloak around himself. "I have to find her."
"Anakin," Beru began moving toward the door, "No one knows where he took her. Where will you go?"
Anakin's reply was to wrap a cloth over his face, concealing his features below his eyes. Then he stepped out into the dying storm.
If he had remained, he would have been there when Obi-Wan arrived, early the next morning.
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Anakin sat at the bar, trying to eat something. He hated the food here, and he had absolutely no appetite. After arriving by land speeder on the outskirts, Anakin had wandered Mos Eisley for the rest night and early morning. It had vaguely reminded him of the night on Coruscant when he had fought Sidious and failed.
Now, in the early afternoon, he sat in the tavern, waiting for some sign of what to do next. There was an odd tremor in the force, an old presence, one that he knew very well. He abandoned his food and seat, leaving the pub to return the dusty street.
Then, he spotted the very man he was looking for. Rage got the better of him. Gathering his power, he unleashed his anger, sending Obi-Wan flying back against a wall of the alley. Drawing his blade, he pursued, coming to stand just before his fallen former master. "You!" he heard himself shout. "Traitor!"
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Obi-Wan could feel the darkness within Anakin, the anger, the hatred. Anakin thought that his best friend had betrayed him, and Obi-Wan once again regretted the whole situation. For a moment, time froze. Obi-Wan remembered his vision, how his friend would become a Dark Lord and murder Luke Skywalker, yet he couldn't bring himself to look at his friend, his brother, that way. I have to try and convince him. If there is any hope-
"Anakin, please!" Obi-Wan called, pushing himself up into a seated position. "Anakin, I am your friend. I'm trying to help you, listen to me."
Obi-Wan looked back at Anakin. The younger man's face was set in an expression of rage and vengeance. His blue eyes were dark, and his blade was held in a threatening, attack-ready position.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan tried again. He managed to get to his feet and was partly surprised that Anakin allowed him to do so. Get your light saber, a part of him prompted. He didn't move for his weapon. He wouldn't treat Anakin like a sith. Anakin was his brother, despite everything. Despite that Anakin had married, had children and had now left the order, Obi-Wan would never stand against him.
"Let me explain," he pleaded. Anakin didn't move, his expression didn't change, but Obi-wan felt a shift through the force. Anakin's rage softened, and he seemed to consider. Obi-Wan knew that Anakin, despite his anger, was hesitant to attack. There was hope.
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A/N: Friends, loyal readers, and everyone else browsing this page: First, thank for reading. I know this took longer to post, and I'm sorry. I am going to try and post more often. However, I have a problem. I'm trying to decide which version of chapter ten I am going to post. Now, here's how you can help, (and by helping me, you are therefore causing me to update sooner- ah, progress) I need you to review, even if it's just one word. After reading the story so far, what is the first word that comes to mind. Lame? Mediocre? Decent? Good? Boring? Tense? Believe it or not, just knowing what my readers' reactions are will let me know if I'm on the right track. Review, and I shall forever be in your debt. I will owe you one big time (truly). Again, thank you.You guys rock.
WizardWriter86