Dearly Departed: Chapter Nine

The bed was empty, but that wasn't what had awakened Obi-Wan. He was used to sleeping alone. Had done it for years. He had also had plenty of experience sleeping in a number of environments: from blistering heat to freezing cold.

But not this type of cold. This was bone-chilling and frigid and it was coming into the room. He was shivering when he opened his eyes. It took him a moment to adjust his sight to the surrounding darkness, and could barely make out the details of the architecture. One thing did stand out, however, and that was the fact the two doors leading to the balcony were wide open.

Obi-Wan swung his legs off the bed and hurried to the exit, sliding to a stop on the snow-covered stone that lay just beyond. Standing in front of him was Padmé; as still as a statue, with nearly the same appearance. Her dull, dark hair was covered with snow, her eyes glazed with ice, and her lips were a cyanotic blue.

His heart skipped a beat. But this is what he asked for, wasn't it? For the Force to allow her passage? At least he thought it was, but seeing her like this, shrouded in the icy chill of death, his determination wavered and he lifted her frozen body in his arms and hurriedly carried her back inside.

After activating a glow-lamp, Obi-Wan released a heavy sigh and whispered his thanks to the Force. Her eyes, although appearing to be crystallized were following his every move.

"Padmé, can you hear me?"

Her lips moved, fine cracks appearing when they did, her voice a quiet whisper, forcing Obi-Wan to lean down toward her.

"Cold," she stuttered, surprising him. Somehow and for some reason, her tactile response to temperature had been triggered, which made him angry and ashamed. Why did he keep wishing for her to stay and suffer and why would the Force allow it?

"Here," Obi-Wan offered, pulling all the blankets from the bed and piling them on top of her. He also took her hands and began rubbing them between his own. The entire time her clear, glassy eyes were fixated on him.

His continued efforts were not helping as quickly as he had hoped, and Obi-Wan frantically recalled his survival training. Without any hesitation, he began stripping and crawled naked beneath the covers, pulling her snugly against him.

Her body's tremors were moving the entire bedframe, but eventually they began to subside and she curled into him and sighed.

"Better?"

She answered with a long humming sound instead of a word, which reverberated against his chest.

He was pleased she was feeling better, but avoiding the truth was becoming more and more difficult. "Why would you stand out there like that? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Obi-Wan." Her voice was raspy and weak, but at least it was audible. "We both know it's too late for that. Why didn't you tell me I'm sick?"

It wasn't the exact truth, but it would ease her passage, and bring her peace. And he was at peace with his decision to allow her to believe it.

"I wasn't sure how long…" he tried to explain, although was hushed with a chilled finger upon his lips.

"That doesn't matter. My time is short. I know that. But before I leave this life, I wanted to thank you for taking care of me."

"It's been my pleasure," he replied half-heartedly, the other half experiencing that all-too-familiar pain. He didn't think he could do this again.

"Why did you?"

"Pardon?"

"Take such good care of me. Why did you?"

He could say it was his duty, but he had enough regret to live with without adding more.

This was perhaps his final opportunity, but still he found it difficult. Which wasn't due to a lack of courage, but a deep-seated fear that if he said the words, she would vanish before his very eyes. For the second time.

He pulled her thin, frail body even closer and admonished himself yet again. There were many who had once considered him wise. He had been a member of the Jedi High Council for Force-sake! And yet, he was perhaps the biggest and most selfish fool in the Galaxy. This wasn't about him.

"Because I love you," he admitted with all sincerity.

"And I love you, Obi-Wan."

Her reply was whispered against his skin, but he'd heard it and squeezed her in acknowledgment. He didn't trust his voice for the time-being.

If he could go back in time, this was the moment he would choose; a moment which had actually never happened.

"Don't be sad," she told him with a steady voice. "You've made me very happy. I only wish we'd had more time."

"So do I, Padmé," he agreed wholeheartedly, placing a kiss into her damp hair. "So do I."

There wasn't anything else to say at the moment. All he wanted to do was hold her. He had intended on doing so the rest of the night.

He was gravely disappointed to discover that at some point, he had fallen asleep with her in his arms, only to awaken with them empty. He knew it before even getting out of bed to confirm it.

His Padmé was gone.