So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near—
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Chapter Eight
Anakin remembers that day perfectly—that day when he had first wished for time to freeze. Even now if he closes he eyes, he can feel the heat of the twin Tatooine suns beating down on this face, the sting of the sand hitting his skin, the smell of his home he shared with his mother.
"Mom! Mom! Look what Watto let me have!" Eight-year-old Anakin bounded through the low door, excitement radiating from his movements.
"Anakin! What are you doing home early? Did something happen?" Shmi Skywalker's face looked fearful as she knelt in front of her young son.
Anakin rapidly shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. Take a look at this!"
Behind him, pieces of what could have possibly been a droid at one point rested on a hovercart.
"Oh Ani, that's wonderful!" Shmi smiled at her son's enthusiasm. "But what is it?"
"It's a protocol droid, Mom. I'm gonna fix him up for you, to help you around the house!" His mother's smile was all the encouragement he needed.
Anakin could hardly believe how lucky he was. In the rough life he led with his mother, the smallest events brought joy into their lives. Getting out early, finding a wizard droid, making his mom happy—there could never be another day as happy as this.
That night he stared up at the stars, imagining all the different beings who lived and loved on their own planets—beings who were free. He glanced behind him, seeing his Mom in their house, hearing her hum a lullaby as she finished her work.
Overwhelmed, he tipped his face back toward the stars and wished with all his heart that he could freeze time forever in that moment, to make it stay the same forever and ever, perfect and unbroken.
With all his heart Anakin pled desperately for the same wish now. For time to stop and freeze just for a moment. Because maybe then he could change fate, alter destiny, save the man who meant the galaxy to him.
Time was his captor, his tormentor, and the mere milliseconds between death and life afforded him no mercy. Those seconds divided time into before and after. Before, when all was right and good and whole, and after, when his world shattered into a million irrevocable shards. Time stops for no man, even one as powerful as Anakin Skywalker. Not even the visceral scream of denial or the shockwaves of agony and rage into the Force, not even all the power contained in the Chosen One could stop the inevitable from happening.
Anakin could not breathe. It was as if the blaster bolt had punched a hole through his own chest, drilling through flesh and bone and destroying his heart. In that moment his whole world became a collapsing star with tunnel vision only for his master. He did not take the time to register why, why Malus left Anakin alive, why he did not finish the job. In the back of his mind he sensed Malus' triumph as he fled. Yet right then he did not care if the coward fled, if he lived or died. I will find you. You will pay. A desperate promise flung into the night, a challenge that would not go unanswered.
Now, he just needed to get to Obi-Wan. It seemed to take hours, days, years before he finally made it to his master's side.
"Hey! Hey, Obi-Wan, look at me!" His panicked breaths studdered in his throat. His frantic hands fluttered over Obi-Wan's form, pressing his metallic hand over the wound in his chest while using the other to gently lift his master's head and cradle it in his lap. Fear, panic, but above all guilt warred for dominance in his soul. This is my fault, it's not supposed to be like this! Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was panicking, knew it was not proper for a Jedi to react this way but he kriffing did not care.
His mentor's eyes fluttered open, filled with pain but extraordinarily clear. Anakin had never noticed the depths of his eyes before, like a blue sky breaking out from behind grey clouds. Why have I never noticed them before?
Obi-Wan's body trembled in Anakin's arms, tiny infinitesimal shudders that bespoke of intense pain. Anakin could feel it. A thundering agony that demanded complete focus, a spiraling darkness that beckoned. Yet upon seeing Anakin an expression of relief masked the pain for a moment. "You're . . . not wounded?"
Anakin laughed, a terrible choking sound, his throat closing even more than before. "You're asking me?"
"Always," Obi-Wan smiled then gasped, shifting agitatedly to look around the hangar. "Malus. Where . . .?" He suddenly hissed in pain, stopping his bodily movements as he closed his eyes, clenching his teeth.
"He's gone," Anakin said shortly, barely sparing the time to think about where he was going. "Obi-Wan, you're- you're hurt pretty bad . . ." His voice sounded strange and thick in his throat. He felt rage drowning his thoughts, and he pushed it away. He couldn't afford to start to fall into a spiral he didn't know he could stop once he started.
Opening, Obi-Wan's eyes wandered down to his damaged body, taking in his bloodied and singed garments. "Yes, apparently," he whispered dryly. "You know, I have always thought blasters were so uncivilized . . ."
"This isn't a joke Master!" Anakin exploded. "What the kriffing boshuda were you thinking?" His fear fueled his anger. Obi-Wan's wounds from before were extensive, but when he looked at the gaping hole under his hand . . . oh Force. The superheated bolt had cauterized most of the wound, but such a terrible shock to a body could not completely eliminate the bleeding. Bile rose in his throat at the sickly sweet smell of charred flesh. He had seen many wounds throughout the years, Force, probably numbering in the millions. He knew the damage such a wound could inflict upon internal organs and tender flesh. He had seen too many of his troops fall to the ruthless barrage of mindless destruction from the Separatists droids, had clenched his fists in anger as the singed and burnt bodies were carried past by their fellow men. But he had always been able to approach the situations objectively; it had not been nearly as personal.
But this . . . he was no healer, and the person cradled in his arms was no clone. His heart jumped and stuttered as fear gleefully attempted to devour his mind.
"I was following your example . . . trying to even the scor-ahh!" Obi-Wan's attempt at levity failed as the last words ended in a stifled cry and the small tremors intensified. Anakin could feel himself begin to panic even more than he already was. Kriff, kriff, this is so beyond bad. Where in the nine hells was Cody? Obi-Wan gritted his teeth but his shields were flickering, his pain leaking out into their bond.
Yes, he had seen wounds like this before. Anakin could feel its intensity, cells and synapses and nerves screaming for aid. A body that could not withstand the assault upon it, a badly damaged body crying for release.
How could this be happening? This couldn't be happening! "Please Obi-Wan, just shut up, okay? This isn't a joke."
Struggling to take in breaths, Obi-Wan still managed the energy to roll his eyes. Even wounded, Obi-Wan's legendary stubbornness demanded he not take such an attitude from his padawan. "I thought . . . I was the one who—who scolded."
"Yeah well, maybe you should finally have a taste of your own medicine."
Obi-Wan's face was pale, so pale. It reminded Anakin of the snow on Hoth when his master and himself had been sent on a mission there before the war. A simpler time, a happier time, when all they had to worry about was the casual interplanetary struggle or when they would have their next argument.
"Ana . . . Anakin," Obi-Wan's soft but urgent voice cut through his fear. "I think something about this whole mission . . ." he shifted restlessly in Anakin's arms. "Remember Geonosis? Dooku said . . . said something about a Dark Lord controlling the Senate . . ." His chest shuddered and dipped under Anakin's hand as he attempted to pull air into his lungs.
"Shhhh, Master, please—" Anakin attempted, but was cut off by Obi-Wan's listless shaking of his head. "No, Anakin, please listen. It's-it's important." Fighting through the pain Obi-Wan continued, "How . . . did Malus know where to find me? Why were you asked t-to leave?"
Anakin felt ill. He stared at his master, his mind refusing to process what was happening. It seemed like he was stuck in a thick fog, and anywhere he looked he couldn't see the light. "What're you saying?" he whispered, his voice coming out blurred and almost drunk.
Obi-Wan's eyes began to drift, the lids threatening to slip over grey irises, the once shuddering breaths slowing to smaller pants. "There's someone high up, someone with power . . . Anakin, you need to be careful." A pained exhalation escaped parted lips and a small trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth, jewel red against the white skin.
Anakin's panic spiraled once again, all thoughts of dark lords and spies soaring from his mind. "See Master, you need to be quiet! Why don't you listen to me for once?" His own lips trembled as he continued to press his hand against the deep wound. Futile, he knew, but he could not sit around and do nothing.
Obi-Wan breathed a small laugh. "I thought . . . I was no longer your master?"
Anakin swallowed bile rising in his throat. "You'll always be my master," he rasped through gritted teeth.
A slight shake of Obi-Wan's head caused Anakin's heart to clench. Slowly, inexplicably, Obi-Wan reached up to his former apprentice's face, gently trailing his fingers over the scar given to him by Ventress . . . Force, was it really three years ago now?
"Anakin . . ."
Anakin shook his head violently, his metallic hand still trying to stem the precious red liquid staining cream and black tunics alike. His human hand shifted Obi-Wan's body closer to his chest. Maybe if he held on tighter, no one could take him away. "No Obi-Wan, stop. Just . . . stop. Okay? You need to save your strength." He was blabbering; his minded working in spasms as he tried to find a way out of this nightmare. "Cody will be here soon, we'll get you into a bacta tank and you'll be fine, you'll see . . ."
Obi-Wan breathed another small laugh, his famous smile gracing his pained features. "Anakin," he started again. Kriffing bastard still trying to tell me what to do . . . "You know it's too late."
"No!" Anakin snarled, a red haze seeping in his mind. His chest heaved as his mind recognized the inevitable but refused to believe it.
All things die Anakin Skywalker. Even the stars burn out.
"Anakin, please," his former master's calming voice broke through the red haze and pain stabbing into his heart equal to the plunge of million vibroblades. Obi-Wan lifted his hand again, and this time gently cupped his friend's cheek. "I think, perhaps, this is my destiny. My part of the prophecy. To die for you, Anakin, is something I gladly do."
At those words, Anakin's throat closed completely. The tears finally slid from his eyes, cutting clean tracks in the filth on his face. "I don't want you to die for me," he whispered fiercely. He gently carded his fingers through Obi-Wan's auburn hair, his thumb brushing his forehead. A desperate benediction, wishing with all his might that somehow he could deceive death and convince it to pass them by, return some other day, some other life.
"Master," Anakin choked. Oh Master what have I done? "I….I can't…"
That smile again, and Obi-Wan's devastatingly clear eyes locked onto blue. Anakin had seen many of Obi-Wan's looks over the years, but no force in the galaxy could have made him look away from the intensity flashing in his eyes, the unreserved trust reflected in them. "You can. Anakin . . . promise me."
Abruptly he gasped, agony flashing across his face. His bloodstained hand gripped the front of Anakin's tunic shakily. His eyes suddenly appeared to lose their focus, but his voice demanded complete attention. "Promise me . . . you'll stay in the light."
Tears trembled on Anakin's lashes, physical manifestations of remorse and grief dripping into Obi-Wan's disheveled auburn hair. "Not without you. Obi-Wan, I don't know if I can."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No death . . . the Force." He breathed a small smile, no harshness in his words. "I'll . . . always be with you. Promise me, please?"
Anakin had never heard such disquiet in his master's voice before, the desperate pleading. He didn't know if he could promise him this though—to continue on, without Obi-Wan's guidance, without his solid anchoring in the Force, the light that showed him the way? How could he ask this of him? How could he do it?
But he would try. For Obi-Wan, he would try.
The thousand fold fault lines within his soul starting to crumble, Anakin could only nod. His mind seemed to descend into a haze of uncomprehending, the world around them fading until only himself and Obi-Wan were the only beings in existence. He focused the last of his mental reserves on the one thing that ever brought him comfort. Obi-Wan's signature, usually burning so bright it rivaled Anakin's own was now a mere flicker in the Force. This cannot be happening.
Anakin suddenly felt Obi-Wan's head lolling to the side and saw his eyes begin to flutter shut. Panic shot through him, the dragon within rearing its head and bucking its chains. "No, no, no, Obi-Wan! Please." He no longer knew who he was begging, but he sent out his heartbreaking request to any and all beings listening.
Using the last of his strength, Obi-Wan focused his gaze on him one last time. "You are my brother Anakin, and I . . . love you."
Time and the universe seemed to freeze. It was just them, just them, and if Anakin could have frozen time in that moment he would have done it forever. Because in that moment his universe was okay, it was whole. He was whole. His heart only beat for two people in the galaxy—how could he continue with only half a heart?
But before he could even fathom a reply, gather his mind from the far corners of the galaxy and find his way through the fog of agony and fear and guilt surrounding him to answer, his master's eyes gradually closed and his body slowly went limp.
Anakin felt his world collapsing along with the wall keeping the supernova inside. "No!" Both his hands found their way to Obi-Wan's face, his own only centimeters away. No no no nonono it's not supposed to be this way! "Master, please, don't leave me." But the words—useless, meaningless—fell from his lips and spiraled away into the uncaring void, the words tasting like ash tainting the air during a scorching fire.
Suddenly, the Force signature around Obi-Wan seemed to grow brighter, terrifying bright, spiraling off like arms in a galaxy. Anakin felt a surging power, a mighty translucent transcendence in the Force. For the merest of seconds he sat stunned by the sheer amount of power emanating from his former master. A feeling of warmth, of peace, of joy seemed to surround him—then Obi-Wan's presence disappeared from the Force forever. Anakin cried out at the sudden sucking morass, a gaping hole where his master used to be, at the blackness ripping Anakin's heart with it.
And in that moment, Anakin Skywalker's universe shattered.