A/N: Advanced warning that this chapter is gonna be sorta gruesome. Sorry. Thanks to EmpressElizabeth for reviewing.
Chapter Seven
Mourning
His eyes felt heavy. Like they were weighed down with something. Like they were glued shut.
After a few moments he mustered up enough strength to open them. The room was dark. His mouth tasted like metal and little lightning strikes of pain exploded along his skull.
He groaned.
"Obi-wan?" He called hoarsely.
"Your friends aren't here."
The dark void he stared into was lit dimly. Just enough so he could recognize the face of the slave owner he had stolen Jacen from.
He went to strike the man, but Anakin realized as consciousness slowly came back to him that his hands were bound above his head.
The slave owner laughed maliciously.
"Not so tough anymore, huh?"
Anakin usually had a witty insult to use for situations like these, but he was beginning to realize that this was not the usual trouble he got into.
Many people on Tatooine, namely the Hutts and slave owners were seasoned criminals. Skilled and highly intelligent.
Crossing them meant playing a game that had only two outcomes.
Serious injury.
Or death.
"I see your type often. Young and arrogant. Think they got all the answers. Think they're the strongest, the meanest."
"And almost every time I show them just how strong they really are."
"I'm going to teach you a lesson, boy."
Anakin tensed, his blue eyes wide.
The slave owner had a cylindrical object in his hand. It was made of metal and had six or seven prongs at the end of it and Anakin knew instantly what it was.
He struggled against his restraints.
The slave owner laughed viciously.
He pressed the weapon over the young Jedi's sternum.
Anakin screamed as thousands of electrical shocks tore through his body.
He convulsed violently and his eyes shut.
He tasted fresh blood in his mouth.
When he felt consciousness begin to slip away the slave owner stopped.
Anakin breaths were uneven. He looked at the slave owner wearily.
"I'm not afraid to die." He rasped. "Kill me. I know you want to."
The slave owner smiled.
"And ruin a good show? Nah, I think I'll have a few more goes with this."
Anakin's cries filled the room like a wounded animal's.
The shocks stopped once more and Anakin wondered with exhaustion when he was going to finally pass out.
He could barely keep his eyes open and the shocks had made him slightly paralyzed like he'd had a stroke.
"Maybe next time you should think about just who you're messing with. This isn't Republic territory, boy. We have our own laws here. And you just broke one. You stole something from me and now I'm going to take something from you."
Anakin didn't think he had enough energy left to make any sort of sound, but when he was electrocuted again he screamed just like before.
He felt blood pool in his mouth and spill over his lips. He closed his eyes and a lone tear slipped out from underneath his lashes.
"Aww. Are you crying?"
"That…that was moving. I'm touched."
He was going to die here. He knew.
He didn't know if it was even possible. But he sent his feelings of love through the force. He hoped they would reach Padmé.
"You were very entertaining. So I'm going to give you a little treat. Five minute break." The slave owner smiled.
"I'll be right back." He walked out.
Anakin's hands writhed as he tried to get them free of the binding they were tied together with. The blisters on his wrist burst and began to bleed.
Soon the ruby red soaked through his bindings and ran like little bloody rivers down his arms.
There was the sound of footsteps and Anakin froze.
The slave owner walked back in.
"It's really too bad. If you had just minded your own business you'd be unharmed right now. And my little slave boy would be alive."
Anakin looked at the man with horror and grief.
"You... you killed him?"
The slave owner smiled.
"He was just a child." Anakin said sadly.
"He got a taste of freedom. Once they get that they never stop trying to run away. You see, you showed him it was possible. And it's too much effort for me to stop him. He's better to me dead."
Anakin looked calm suddenly. He was falling into the force.
There is no emotion. There is only peace.
The crack of the whip stung on his bare back, but it was paled in comparison by the ache in his heart.
He remembered telling his mother he would come back home to free the slaves.
"I'm sorry, mom." He whispered.
"I broke a promise."
Somewhere very far away a senator stopped in her footsteps and she felt strangely empty. Like a part of her had gone missing. And she felt an ache in her heart.
And she knew Anakin was in pain.
The city wind ruffled her chocolate curls and carried away with them a name.
"Ani." She said softly.
She stared at the skyline and she felt cold.
Nobody knew if the Gods grieved. If they cried.
But in that moment they did.
They grieved.
For Anakin.
For the slave boy. For the sweet, brave Knight.
For the young man who risked everything he held dear to help the oppressed peoples of his homeland.
The Gods heard the little boy's voice, a voice from more than a decade ago.
"The biggest problem in the universe is that no one helps each other."
And they mourned him.
Anakin's eyes started to flutter. His tensed muscles relaxed and his lips parted in a sigh.
He was slipping away.
There was a sunset in his memories, an apricot sunset. The roses on the lake retreat's balustrade were past their prime and the red petals were carried away with the wind. It was snowing rose petals.
He was sitting on the floor and looking at Padmé. She had Luke in her arms. And he was holding Leia. He could hear his children laughing.
The sounds became more and more distant.
They had been a fairytale.
Padmé and him.
The peasant boy who had stolen the Queen's heart.
The Knight who married the most beautiful woman in all the land.
They had fought so many battles against the wicked. And they had won every one.
But they had lost the last battle.
He'd hurt her.
He promised her over and over again he never would. He'd keep her safe no matter the circumstances.
He would protect her.
But in the end he hurt her.
He hurt the one person he loved the most.
And he wished he could tell her he was sorry.
But he couldn't.
He couldn't.