Chapter Twenty-Two: V
V is for Violently
Obi-Wan Kenobi's dreams have never turned so quickly and so violently.
He does not understand how.
He fell asleep shortly after returning home and eating dinner. Elanor was still awake, waiting in the bed, but only just barely keeping her eyes open. After he slipped into the bed beside her, draping his arm over her waist and pulling her against him, she merely nestled into his hold before slipping off into peaceful oblivion. He was physically tired and mentally serene, so he fell asleep swiftly afterwards, easily and quietly.
He does not have an inkling of why.
Dreams are usually symbolic when Jedi get them. They usually mean something – and for him, they usually foreshadow the future. But he and Elanor had already admitted their love quite a while ago, yet there had been no dreams triggered by that. And there was nothing different about tonight that would have triggered a nightmare.
The only he does know is what his dreams are about – and that is the one thing he wishes he didn't.
At first, the dream is empty and silent and dark, like a long night that stretches on forever, seemingly without end. He simply stays there, lingering without a purpose, loitering without a view.
But then things change.
Suddenly he is falling through a sea of images, some of which are his earliest memories while others are his newest. Voices echo too, disjointed and distanced from the images, voices that he faintly recognizes from the past and voices that he is sure he has never heard before.
Lights and colors and smells and sounds – they all swirl around in a confusing soup that he can't even begin to start sorting through.
And then the fall stops . . . and he wishes that it would continue.
Now the images are clear, the sound correct – and the implications terrible.
He sees the Battle of Naboo – he sees the brave men who died fighting to take back the palace and protect the two Queens, one fake and one real; he sees the Gungans who were killed by an seemingly never-ending troops of advancing droids; he sees the pilots in space, blown to pieces and burned to ash as they fought to blow up the droid control center; and again he sees his beloved former Master fall in an agonizingly slow, painful death as his scream of denial echoes around the room.
He sees the Battle of Geonosis – he watches as the Jedi who came to his aid fall in battle; he watches as clones ordered to come and rescue him and the others are shot down or blown up; and again he hears Anakin's scream of pain when Dooku severs his arm.
He sees the Temple after Order 66 – the dead all over, Jedi and clones alike, all with lightsaber or blaster wounds that lead to their death.
Then darkness falls, the Temple spiraling away from him, burning and smoking and full of screams of the dead and dying.
When it lifts, he sees Elanor, and his heart jumps into his throat. Her arms and legs are chained to the wall, her body bruised and bleeding, a Force-suppressing collar tight around her neck. The cell is dark and small, and it is obvious that she is exhausted, starved, and beaten, as there are dark circles under her eyes, her clothes are ripped, and blood stains the rags, the wall, and the floor.
The position makes one more thing obvious about her – she is pregnant.
Pregnant with his child.
He does not know how he knows – he just does. Maybe it's him. Or maybe it's the Force.
As he watches, the door opens and her head comes up slowly, as if she barely as the strength to move it. Her emerald eyes are dim, so dim he can barely see them – but then, as the intruder, her captor, steps into light, her eyes suddenly burn with a fire he has never seen. A furious, vengeance-filled, raging fire that is so strong even he takes a step back.
Her captor is looks strange when he comes to stand in front of her – and then his breath catches when he realizes that the man is Vader. Darth Vader.
The raspy, mechanical voice issues from Vader, and he flinches. "Have you reconsidered?" The tone is flat and unemotional and so, so alien.
Elanor's hands curl into fists, and she all but snarls back, "I will never tell you where he is."
Rage fills Vader, and he thunders, "I am growing impatient, apprentice; tell me now."
Her chin comes up, and her lips press together. It is a show of defiance that he has never seen from her before – but then again, he is not Vader.
Vader's hand comes up and also curls into a fist – and this time, Elanor chokes, her eyes going wide.
"You carry his child, and you know where he is. Tell me now, and I will spare your life."
Vader releases his grip slightly, but Elanor does not say anything except a single word: "Never."
"Compassion is your downfall, as it has been the downfall of all the Jedi," Vader snarls. "What of the child you carry? Do you not want it to live?"
"Not under you and the Emperor," she spits out. "You would tear my child to pieces."
Vader releases the grip entirely, and she coughs as air rushes back into her lungs.
"I can help you. I can pardon you of being a criminal, an outlaw, a Rebel. I can give you a free, safe, luxurious life on Coruscant. I can keep you safe. All you have to do is give me what I want." Vader's voice is still flat, though, and it ruins the effect of the plea.
Elanor's eyes flash. "The only way I can stop being an outlaw is to stop being a Jedi. And that I will never do. Do what you want and offer what you will, but I tell you now as I have told you before – I will never betray my husband, not while there is still life in me."
"Then you have chosen death!" Vader roars. Suddenly, his lightsaber is in his hand. Suddenly, it is activated. Suddenly, it is driving towards Elanor.
The scream rises unbidden and unexpressed in his throat as the glowing blood-red blade slices straight through Elanor's heart.
She crumples to the ground.
Vader deactivates his lightsaber, turns on his heel, and leaves.
And he awakens.
As he does, he becomes aware that Elanor is shaking him, concern written all over his face. He sits bolt upright and seizes her in a powerful embrace, crushing her against him. Tears run down his face as he gulps in gasping breaths of air, thanking the Force that she is still alive and safe and by his side.
As Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the woman he loves, nestled in his arms, he prays that his dreams will not come true – and that their future will not end as violently as he has just seen.
V is for Volumes
Obi-Wan's first reaction upon breaking out of his nightmare speaks volumes to Elanor.
She was awakened not too long after Obi-Wan had returned and pulled her into his arms, and she had relaxed and fallen asleep. It was their usual routine, as she never really felt totally safe and assured and not worried unless he was home, and it was only after he had lain down by her side that she allowed herself to sleep.
But tonight is different.
When she awoke, he was tossing and turning. His hands were clenched into fists, wound in the sheets, and sweat glinted on his forehead and chest. Meaningless words, ones she could not hear, escaped his lips – and granted her a clue as to what afflicted him.
He was having a nightmare. And a bad one, for she has never seen him like this before.
She just begins to shake him when his eyes flash open. When she starts to ask him what happened, he grabs her in a tight embrace, holding her so tightly she can barely breathe.
But she lets him. Whenever she had nightmares from her ordeal, he held her without speaking, merely offering comfort.
She knows that that is what he is seeking now, comfort and reassurance and affection, and she does not hesitate to steady him and be a foundation that he can cling to. And it also offers her a clue as to the subject of his nightmare.
There can only be two possibilities, after all – something about her . . . or his own ordeal with Anakin Skywalker.
After a long while, she senses him beginning to calm down. His heart, which earlier was pounding in his chest, begins to slowly slow down. His breathing, which earlier came out in desperate, rasping gasps that ruffled her hair, begins to slow become deeper and more relaxed. And his grip, which earlier was tight enough to break her ribs, begins to slowly become loose and gentle instead of desperate and crushing.
Finally she senses him clear his mind as he falls back down on the bed, taking her with him. She snuggles against him, content to rest like this with his arms around her until he is ready to talk.
Moments later, he seems to be ready. One hand creeps up her back and begins a rhythmic stroking of her hair, which she automatically arches in to, as he sighs deeply. Turning his head to her, he asks her quietly if she is all right.
She opens her eyes and scowls at him. After all of that, he is asking her if she is all right?
He shifts under her gaze and averts his eyes, understanding her silent scolding. He knows her well enough by now to understand such a message; and even if he didn't, she is not exactly keeping her emotions quiet, which she knows he can sense in the Force.
When a full minute passes in silence, she gives up and nudges him. His eyes flash back to hers, and she asks him, softly, the same question he asked her.
He forces a smile, tightening his arms around her, but the smile does not reach his eyes, which are troubled, dark depths of blue-green instead of the normal sparkling, mischievous, content depths they usually are.
Finally, he sighs and reaches out to touch her forehead. She tries to question him, but he merely shakes his head as he calls the Force to him.
She jumps as the bond suddenly flares to life and he lets his nightmare swirl into her mind.
When it is over, she opens her eyes and suddenly notes the pain and the agony and the self-reproach in his eyes – and all of a sudden she understands.
She understands what haunts him so much. She understands what pains him so greatly. And she understands the ache that she has always sensed in the back of his mind, in the recesses of his heart.
He is comparing her to Anakin. He loved Anakin; now he loves her. And he lost Anakin; so now he fears to lose her.
This is what has left him sweating and shaking and having nightmares. This is what has caused him to hold her so tightly and treasure her so much. This is what has caused him to be so overprotective towards her.
Not that she minds, of course.
But now, as she opens her eyes and stares into his eyes, she feels that she finally understands him.
She reminds him softly that even Jedi dream, in a whisper so low that only a Jedi would hear it. Not all things they see during sleep come true.
He sighs and brushes his fingers through her hair. He replies that he knows, but that wisdom doesn't always help him when it comes to emotions.
She tilts her head in confusion.
He manages a small smile, and explains that while he was a good Jedi, he was never a great one. All of this was because he simply cared too much about some people who grew close to him – like Qui-Gon, and like Anakin.
She shakes her head sharply. It is no flaw to her that he can feel compassion and love; on the contrary, she believes it is his greatest strength. It is what drew her to him, after all, and what made their love possible now of all times.
For a second, she can see how his inner insecurities fight against the acceptance of her words, so she reminds him that one day they will let go of each other – but when they do, they will meet again through joining the Force. So she doesn't care that he can feel compassion and affection; it is what she is counting on to bring them together again after death, after all.
After a long second, he exhales and manages a weak smile, giving into the sense of her words. He sighs again and pulls her closer.
In return, she presses her head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and relaxing in the safety of his embrace.
For a moment, they are relaxed, she with the knowledge that he is close and protecting her and he with the knowledge that she is close and is protected by him.
Then suddenly she remembers how tired she was. She closes her eyes and begins to drift off to sleep, tired and content. He merely chuckles and shifts slightly so that he can kiss her lightly.
Obi-Wan's reaction – to quickly hold her tightly and to immediately make sure she was all right – speaks volumes about his love for her, and Elanor feels honored and amazed that he loves her that much . . . and that she loves him just as much in return.