Chapter Seventeen
White light, dim mixed with bright, spiraled in and out of his vision like smoke caught in a breeze, whirling about him, passing through his outstretched hand, maddeningly transparent and impossible to grasp onto no matter how hard he tried.
But he continued to struggle, to aid the illusion in its efforts to form into something tangible, until suddenly before Obi-Wan's very eyes, it began to take shape, outlining a petite figure donned in a white gown that flowed with the breeze, ethereally glowing in the passing light. Shapely legs appeared through the open vee of its skirt and Obi-Wan's eyes traveled up to a trim waist and delicate breasts, an elegant neck, moist, pouting lips, and flowing dark mane. Eyes opened to reveal a compassionate gaze full of inconceivable depths of emotion that he realized he too shared, and as unbelievable as it seemed, he could experience in his mind and through his touch.
The bare shoulders were smooth underneath his fingers, the thin wisp of material that secured the bodice of her gown slipping down her arms to the command of his fingers.
His lips fastened onto the path they had taken. She tasted as sweet as he had remembered. Like the muja fruit she had brought him in that cell all those years ago.
But had it only been days? He couldn't remember. But it seemed like forever.
The material of her gown had obeyed and fell to her waist, the skin of her breasts pale except for the rosy tips of her nipples that arched up into his caress and then peaked even further onto his tongue.
The light passed once again and he heard the whisper of his name, along with the echo of the sentiment behind it. The passion and love that was so evident in her voice and in his mind. How had he missed it?
He answered her call and dove deeply inside her mouth, searching to find the words that she had not spoken -- which he had only heard in his mind. That she wanted him like this. That it didn't matter who he was or what he had done. She wanted him.
But as his tongue slithered against hers and the body in his arms writhed and shivered as his touch had explored new places, the evidence of her desire was in his hand, and Obi-Wan sealed his reply with a kiss, long and slow, wrapping her with delicate ribbons of his desire and promise to never hurt her, never leave her. He loved her, as he had loved no one. Ever.
Her smile reflected the passing wave of light as they came together and he moved inside of her and Obi-Wan smiled back, drawing her up to him to cradle her body in his arms, to feel her outside, inside, everywhere. She was everything, everywhere, and he was drowning in the bliss of acceptance and adoration.
However, when the light passed the next time, it was darker and he could see the stricken, look upon Padmé's face, was panicked to hear the concern that edged her voice as she asked him what was wrong.
And then her voice failed completely as she began to struggle to fight off the tightening grasp that had transformed into something violent, as his hands gripped her throat. His thrusting movements became more powerful, unmercifully so as he sought to bury himself in her heat, concerned only with his pleasure.
It was wrong. It wasn't what he wanted!
The images were frightening and Obi-Wan desperately sought out the light once again. It was transparent once more, filtered and moving just beyond his reach while the body underneath him fought for breath and life, illuminated by a red glow.
He closed his eyes, struggling to focus upon that light until it finally, although hesitantly responded, curling itself into his hand and once again took the form of her beloved and beautiful face.
Apologies were not necessary. The red hue was washed away, dissipating up into the dark void of the atmosphere above and around them as once again they began to move together, slowly and passionately, sharing emotions he thought he was unworthy of, when he was hushed by her voice.
"You deserve this, Obi-Wan." She said. "You deserve this and so much more."
He believed her. The proof was in her touch and in her eyes. He held her close as she moved with him, meeting his gaze and matching the rate of his panting breaths. Obi-Wan closed his eyes when he felt the eminence of his release, only to snap them open upon hearing the words once more.
"You deserve this."
However, it wasn't Padmé's voice he heard that time, it was his Master's, and the whip that stung and burned into his back ripped away the pleasurable vision from his mind and scornfully slapped reality across his bruised and bleeding face.
Obi-Wan flexed arms that had grown numb in the past two days from being hung by chains from the ceiling of the dark room he had been kept in, his feet barely able to touch the cold, damp floor beneath him.
It was nothing new. This was his Master's favorite position for Obi-Wan's discipline, however, never had his punishment gone on this long. It was then that he remembered what this was.
This wasn't discipline. This was torture. Torture for his failure, and he had given himself to it willingly to save Padmé's life. To take the dark lord away from Naboo. However, the awful truth was, he needed to get himself away from Naboo. He didn't trust himself with her. Not with Sidious around. There was no telling what his Master could have made him do. And he wasn't going to hurt her. Not intentionally. He knew that the way he had left had hurt her. He could feel her pain. He didn't know how, but he had felt her disappointment. But he couldn't look at her, couldn't meet her eyes, or his Master would've known. He would've used him to hurt her.
Obi-Wan wasn't going to allow that to happen.
He arched up on his tiptoes as another crack of the laser whip lacerated wounds that had barely begun to heal, feeling Sidious attempt to enter his mind again, but he wouldn't let him. He couldn't let him in. He would see. He would know, and Padmé would suffer for it.
Closing his eyes to focus upon keeping his shields firm, the wispy light from his previous vision once more passed through Obi-Wan's line of sight and he mentally grasped onto it, seeing through it to a radiant smile and kind, dark eyes.
But it had been a mistake.
"So, you have feelings for the young queen, do you? That is why you failed me."
"No." Obi-Wan tried to deny, but it was too late.
"And that is why you fail her now. Your feelings betray you and your young queen."
Obi-Wan could detect the movement of his Master as the Sith Lord moved up against him, the coarse cloth of his outer robe brushing against the blistered gashes of his back and he hissed in pain.
"I had plans for the young woman, but now I think I shall bring her here myself. I shall do to her what I plan on doing to you, only you get to watch, knowing that you are the cause for her grief and pain. I will kill her, slowly, painfully, and you will help, my apprentice."
"No." The denial came through gritted teeth as the light scampered away, replaced by whorls of red and black as night struggled against day, dark against light, evil against good, an age-old conflict that was warring inside his soul.
"Good." Sidious rasped. "I can feel your anger. You wish to kill me. Come back to me, my apprentice. Come back to the dark side. You can feel its calling. You can feel its power."
"I…can't."
It hurt to reach for. The movement was agonizing and he was so tired. So very tired.
Help me. Help me, Padmé. Obi-Wan pleaded in his head and suddenly the light was everywhere, filling him, pushing out the void with its blinding glow and then she was there, in wondrous beauty, holding out her hand, welcoming him into the Light, a pure smile of radiance showing him the way.
And the chains that bound his hands shattered, their pieces dropping to the floor like falling rain during a storm and quicker than the lightning that follows, Obi-Wan spun on the stunned and astounded Sith Master, slamming into Sidious with his body.
His joints and limbs previously numbed by suspension were refreshed and energized by the light that emanated from within him and Sidious recognized it, and was disgusted by it.
"You fool. It's too late for you. Do you think you can be a Jedi now?"
He didn't care, but he wasn't going to let him hurt her.
The light focused upon the man's neck and if Obi-Wan could only get his hands around it, he could choke Sidious to death, but he couldn't let go of the older man's hands. Underneath him, Obi-Wan could feel the press of his Master's lightsaber against his hip. If Sidious got a hold of that lightsaber, it was all over.
Being younger gave Obi-Wan an advantage and he continued to struggle, believing himself to be gaining ground, when an arm slipped from his grasp and he lunged for the weapon. However, before he could use it, Obi-Wan found himself slamming into the opposite wall, the Dark Force pinning him and holding him there.
His wounds ground against the textured surface, bursting forth a new wave of agony through swept over the young man's body and he moaned in pain, falling to the ground as Sidious released him.
"You are no match for the dark side. You should know this. I'm tired of wasting my time with you."
Gray hands drifted up. Obi-Wan recognized the movement and knew what was about to come.
But either his Master hadn't realized what had happened, or he thought himself more capable then he should've, because the blue lightning bolt that came hurdling the young man's way was merely absorbed by a well-timed activation of a red 'saber, which Obi-Wan had managed to secure before he had been tossed to the wall.
The truly wicked smile upon the wrinkled face was the last thing that Obi-Wan consciously remembered before he suddenly found himself standing before the collapsed body of a headless man, the decapitated face rolling onto his bare feet, the yellow gaze of the man he had known as Master for the past ten years slowly transforming into the pale blue of the man the rest of the Galaxy had known as Senator Palpatine from Naboo.