Waking up seemed to be a fifty-fifty chance when it came to Anakin's life. And what he woke up to was even more unpredictable. It varied from pleasant green fields to the cold steel of a cell, from the safety of the sheltered temple to a cramped ventilation shaft aboard a hostile vessel.
This time when Anakin's eyes fluttered open, his throat was absolutely parched—the thirstiest he's ever been in his life. No childhood memories of Tatooine could convince him otherwise. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and any traces of saliva had vanished long ago.
Ropes bit into his wrists and ankles, binding him to a wooden stake. And a hot, scorching sun burned his scarred bare back and arms. Sweltering winds swept dust and sand into his mouth, nose, and ears. And sweat beaded his face, his hair sticking to his face and getting into his eyes.
Stars, how he hated sand planets. The natives weren't much better either. Curse his master and his insistence upon futile negotiations.
Where is Master Obi-Wan anyway?
Straining against his bounds, Anakin twisted to squint at the huge, fortified wall. He was too far off to have the blessing of its shade, but even from this distance he could spot countless hunched figures stationed atop the wall's security, awaiting his death with bloodthirst. They hoped their sacrifice would appease their gods, which just so happened to be Anakin at this moment.
He recalled their beady yellow eyes, lizard-like scales, and forked tongues. They reminded him of a mix between Jawas and Trandoshuans. Both species were ranked high on Anakin's annoying list.
There was no sign of his master.
Worry seeped into Anakin's mind, strained with a growing fear for their lives—not a common occurrence. Was Obi-Wan captured? Tortured? Killed? The possibility of that reality, even if it was unlikely, made him nauseated. The Jedi Knight was more than capable of handling himself, but they were less than prepared and alone on this Force-forsaken planet. Guilt gnawed at the pit of his stomach and he bit his cracked lip uneasily.
He shouldn't have been so reckless and impatient with the treaty negotiations. It had made everything so much harder. But then again, without it, innocent people would've died for no reason. Rash as they had been, he wasn't sorry for his actions. If anything, he'd do it all again. Just maybe a bit more discreet next time.
That was most definitely going to lead to a lecture later on.
If we survive this.
Anywho, it was clear it was up to Anakin to get them both out of this. For maybe the second time in the three years of his apprenticeship. As to how he would go about it, he had not the faintest idea.
But, by the looks of the sudden cheering erupting from the natives, he had the feeling the decision might be made for him. They clapped and howled, stomping their feet like barbaric animals and shaking their clenched fists in the air.
The handful of small devices planted in the ground started thumping in a rhythmic pattern. Anakin had assumed they were some sort of location beacon, but he hadn't expected them to actually make audible sounds. It was almost in sync with Anakin's throbbing headache of dehydration.
Ka-thunk…. Ka-thunk…. Ka-thunk….
Then it began to speed up.
T-thunk. T-thunk. T-thunk. T-thunk. T-thunk.
The cheers grew to near-hysterical roars. A deep rumbling shook the ground, vibrating throughout his whole body. He tensed and squirmed against the ropes, trying to wriggle himself free. But it was useless. His fingers and toes were numb from the lack of circulation.
Then, through the hazy heat, he saw it, or felt it, rather. Voices hissed at him through the Force, wailing and moaning all at once. Non-human. Non-sentient. Animalistic. Pain and agony shrieked in a ferocious anger surging through the threads of the Force. It shook him, unsettled him, and resonated in his being.
Entire sand dunes collapsed like water as something humongous burrowed towards him, head-on. Then another appeared from his left, and another on his right. The rumbling increased until Anakin was aware of nothing but the tube-like mountains of shifting sand racing for him.
Nostrils flaring, he fought to gain control of his emotions and find peace. He tried to remember his training. Connect. Control. Closing his eyes, he reached out through the Force, trying to gauge and measure the creatures approaching. Rage slammed into him, but he didn't draw back. Eyes closed, brows furrowed, he pressed further. He let the creatures' fury flow through him. Burning hot pain seared through his mind like a glowing red hot knife.
His breathing grew labored as he forced himself to remember to breathe.
Blinding white agony spiked in his brain. They were close; they were coming. Eyes squeezed close, jaw clenched, hand outstretched, he braced himself as best he could. His body trembled violently with the effort.
The rumbling erupted into a deafening roar. And the Force screamed with conflict.
Sand cascaded down in a thunderous rush, swooshing over Anakin. It filled his nose, eyes, mouth, and ears. And, breaking through the desert crust, rose three monstrous sand worms.
They towered over him, a sibilant cacophony of angry, hungry, predatory shrieks. Their size outmatched any of their species, reaching a height that surpassed the columns of the Jedi Temple. Anakin was a mere speck beneath their towering forms.
The Force surged with such power that his mind began to unravel, crumbling under the weight of these monsters. He flung his head back and opened his eyes, straining with his hands outstretched.
Flashes of training sessions were flung at him. Obi-Wan's cream-colored robes and reddish hair against the colorful, vibrant birds. The chaotic swarm formed into a harmonious shape of a face—Anakin's face.
Connect. Connect. Connect.
But he always struggled with connection. Obi-Wan was always the animal expert, not him. The thousands of layered sharp teeth plunged down upon him. Instinctively, he raised his arms to defend himself, but the ropes held him back.
Then, like a spark on dry wood, a cold voice whispered to him. It was full of a quiet fury that almost matched the sandworms in intensity.
Dominate.
Glaring, he narrowed his eyes at the monstrous worms. His entire focus on the creatures, he hardly noticed as the Force unraveled the bounds tying him to the stake. He got to his feet and outstretched one arm, his glazed, steely blue eyes blazing.
The worms roared at him, hissing ferociously as they threw themselves upon him. Anakin searched their animal minds, noted their instinctual hunger, their craving. And he used that against them. They fought it, violently thrashing their gigantic heads and bodies around in an almost slow-motion manner. But they were no match for the Force. They were no match for Anakin.
Raising his other arm, he forced the creatures into submission. They skidded to a stop only meters away, brushing against the tips of Anakin's fingers in the Force. Their gaping mouths widened and gaped at him as they tried to thrust themselves forward and squish him. But Anakin didn't let them.
However, bit by bit, he could feel his resolve cracking with each attempt. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, desperately trying to keep his hold on the creatures. Something wet dribbled down his face. His muscles shuddered. His mind screamed in sheer agony.
Help. He needed help.
Throwing every inch of his being into the effort, he shifted on his feet to face the fortified wall. His arms were outstretched on both sides with his fingers curled in a twitching claw. Revenge, hunger, fury. These worm "gods" wanted to devour their subjects. And so they would have it. Vision blurring, his mind taken by the intensity of the Force, he slammed his arms forward, ushering the worms to the wall.
They rushed past him in a blur of blinding sand, dust, and heat. Their tube-like bodies bulldozed through the ray shield. Screams of terror erupted as they scrambled away from the collapsing wall.
Anakin did it. He was alive.
He watched, panting and dazed. The Force seeped from him and his arms fell limp to his sides. Exhaustion clouded his mind and the throbbing pain brought him to his knees. Red liquid dripped from his nose, splattering against the coarse sand as he pressed his hands into the sand. His arms shook. He blinked heavily at the black spots speckling his vision.
Obi-Wan. He needed to find Obi-Wan. He was…he was…he was free. Anakin was free. He blinked down at his hands, barely comprehending. The ropes lay behind him in a heap, as if they had been nothing more than an afterthought to the Force. The ropes were lying in a heap behind him, the stake cracked in two. He did it. He unraveled the ropes and he dominated the worms. Confusion gleamed in his glazed eyes. He needed to find Obi-Wan. Surely he'd know what to do.
Master…w-where…?
Then he collapsed to his side, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
The last thing Anakin was aware of was the roar of an engine, cool wind blowing against his face and whipping at his ripped pants and matted hair. Then all went black.
For a while there was nothing. Just a fuzzy black static as he spun around and around in the empty void. He slowly became aware of a pounding in the back of his skull, then someone slapping him, shaking him. He groaned, wishing they'd just stop and leave him alone. But that merely encouraged the behavior.
"Easy, young one." A voice broke through the haze, calm and authoritative. It was familiar, like a long-forgotten melody. "You're safe now."
Obi-Wan.
The piercing warmth of his bright Force signature shone into the dark coldness that had enveloped Anakin.
His ears rang and he winced. Everything spun and butterflies did somersaults in his stomach. But relief poured into him at the same time, pulling him toward consciousness. He knew that voice.
"M'ster?" he rasped painfully.
His mind, foggy and thick, latched onto that familiar presence like a lifeline, clinging to the warmth he always associated with his master.
He caught a sigh of relief from the person in question.
"Yes, it's me, Anakin," Obi-Wan answered. "We need to go. Do you think you can walk?"
"Mm, yes," Anakin rasped.
He grit his teeth as he struggled to stand, ignoring the fiery needles stabbing his brain and muscles.
Then his throat constricted and he burst out coughing. Tongues of fire seemed to lick his throat and an involuntary whimper escaped his lips when it finally ended. He sank to the sand and buried his heavy head in his arms. A strong, supportive hand pressed against his back and rubbed.
Determination curling in his blood, he pried open his eyes only to be assaulted by the brilliant desert sun's rays. He grimaced and jammed them back shut.
"Anakin?" Obi-Wan prompted. Worry sharpened his tone as he leaned over, his shadow shielding him from the bright light.
Anakin licked his lips, hating the dryness he found and the way his tongue stuck to them.
"C'n I have s'm water?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and raw.
He felt Obi-Wan's arms snake under his back.
"In a minute. We need to get aboard the ship first," he said.
Anakin's eyes shot open and narrowed at Obi-Wan's blurry face as he was heaved from the ground.
Relief washed over Anakin, momentarily dulling the pain as he turned his head toward the sound. Concern etched across his master's features. Bandages wrapped around Obi-Wan's arm and a faint bruise marred his cheek, but he was alive—alive and, most importantly, free. And not dead.
"The…sh-ship?" Anakin blinked. Last he recalled, they totaled their ship in a crash landing on the planet.
Obi-Wan smiled slightly, warmth and concern mixing into a strange concoction of an expression. But something more laid underneath his gaze. Something like awe, confusion, and…fear.
He kept glancing back over his shoulder, then looking at Anakin in hesitant disbelief. Almost as though he was afraid of his Padawan. Whether it was his health or his powers or the consequences of his actions, Anakin could not tell which.
But that couldn't be right. Why would Obi-Wan be scared of him? He was the master, not Anakin.
Anakin sent a wave of comfort through the Force only to be affronted by a mass of pain blooming in the center of his brain. He winced then stopped.
"Yes, the ship, Anakin," Obi-Wan answered as he gently wiped the blood leaking from his Padawan's nose. "While you were busy with the sand worms, I managed to sneak aboard a ship in the locals' hangar."
The sand worms? The memory rushed back—writhing bodies of sand, the unrelenting heat, and the sheer magnitude of the creatures. A spike of adrenaline coursed through him before reality slowly seeped in. Obi-Wan's hand on his arm, solid and warm, pulled him from the sinking pit of panic.
Both of them looked to the crumbled wall. The worms burrowed inside the city, bringing destruction from beneath as they devoured everything in sight. The ground rumbled and shook as shrieks still tore through the sinking city. It was too late to save any of them.
A pang of shame spiked in Anakin. He did that. He'd brought that destruction upon them. A sense of justification made a dark part of him smile, but he knew his master was distressed. He knew that he had done something wrong.
Instead of rebuking Anakin, however, Obi-Wan merely shook his head and shifted Anakin into a more supportive carry.
Dazed, Anakin let his head rest on his shoulder. He tried to sense his master's emotions through the Force and reach the training bond they'd formed, but this resulted in an agonizing pain shooting through Anakin's skull. He moaned.
"Force exhaustion, Anakin. Don't use the Force," Obi-Wan ordered wearily.
And sure enough, the pain ebbed away the moment Anakin relented his use of the Force. The cool shade of the ship fell over them as Obi-Wan's tapping footsteps brought them up the docking ramp. Relief tugged at the corners of Anakin's mind, exhaustion following suit.
"You're…not mad?" He raised an eyebrow.
Obi-Wan didn't respond at first. He pursed his lips and closed the docking ramp, then lifted Anakin into the co-pilot seat. Anakin sank into the cushioned seat, his muscles feeling like they were made of lead.
"We'll discuss this later, Padawan," Obi-Wan dismissed, his tone grave. Anakin watched his master deftly flip the switches and set in the coordinates to the Temple. He felt like he should do something, say something, anything, but he couldn't conjure up anything. And that wasn't good. He needed to be able to protect his master. He couldn't lose him.
Anakin's stomach churned as the ship pulled off from the ground and flew off.
"What happened?" he asked, frowning.
Obi-Wan knelt beside him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You summoned the sandworms, Anakin. You saved us both. The creatures broke through the fortified wall, allowing us to escape."
Anakin blinked, processing the words. "But I thought I was going to die. I was…. I didn't know what to do."
Obi-Wan's gaze softened, the tension in his features easing slightly. "That's the nature of the Force. It can overwhelm us, but it can also guide us. You acted on instinct, on connection. You tapped into something greater than yourself, and it led you here."
Anakin shifted, wincing as the ache in his head flared up again. He wasn't quite sure if it had been connection. It had felt much too cold for that. But he didn't mention that to Obi-Wan. Instead:
"But I should've been better. I should've saved everyone."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently, "you did save us. That's what matters right now. We can't change what has happened, but we can learn from it."
The weight of his master's words pressed against Anakin's chest, mixing with the guilt. The faces of the natives flashed through his mind, their desperate eyes wide with terror as the sandworms tore through their defenses. Despite his annoyance at them, he had not intended for them to suffer, but his actions had set off a chain reaction that he couldn't control.
"I didn't want this," Anakin whispered, his voice trembling. "I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"Nor did I," Obi-Wan replied, his tone firm yet compassionate. "But sometimes our choices have unforeseen consequences. What matters is how we respond. We can't dwell on the past; we must find a way forward."
Anakin looked up into Obi-Wan's steady gaze, seeking reassurance amidst the storm of his thoughts. "But what if I make the wrong choice again?"
"Then we'll face it together," Obi-Wan assured him. "We always do."
A knot of tension eased within Anakin, if only slightly. The certainty in Obi-Wan's voice ignited a spark of hope in his chest, though doubt still lingered in the shadows. Suddenly, he grew aware of a rough, coarse, irritating substance in between his toes.
"Gah, I hate sand," he muttered weakly, eyes drifting closed.
"I know."
Anakin smirked slightly and glanced at his master.
But Obi-Wan's attention was fixed outside the cockpit window. Once they were in space, floating amidst the sea of stars, finally free of the atmosphere, he plunged the ship into hyperspace.
Anakin watched as his master sat back and carded a hand through his sweaty hair. A moment later Obi-Wan got up and tossed Anakin a canteen of water, which he fumbled but caught. "Careful," Obi-Wan warned, settling back down into the seat next to him. "Drink slowly."
Obediently, Anakin forced himself to take a few slow sips. Eventually, his thirst was satisfied and he sighed, eyes fluttering closed again. He let himself sink into the blissful arms of sleep.
Anakin silently swore he'd never let Obi-Wan die. A solemn, silent oath.
Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they would navigate the storm.
And he would do everything in his power to ensure they both survived.
Obi-Wan studied Anakin for a moment. Now asleep, Anakin's mouth was ajar and he looked so strangely young compared to the boy he'd seen only moments ago.
Anakin had commanded the massive sand worms to his bidding. Shocked, he'd watched frozen in awe as his young Padawan accomplished what most Jedi masters called impossible in a mere moment.
This was the Chosen One. He was training the Chosen One. The reality of it finally sank in after all this time. And, swallowing hard, Obi-Wan felt in that moment he had never missed Qui-Gon's guidance more.
He honestly had no idea what he was doing. But he would trust the Force. He would tap into something greater than himself, and let it lead.
They both would.
