Author's Notes:
Hi! I am so very glad you are here! 8D
This is my first fanfiction, so I am very anxious to see how you like this and really, REALLY want your reviews! Each on will be cherished! :D
And, (just for a recap):
Gripper: What if dreams come true? What if an idea or person is wrong? Or if timing and events were somehow changed; how would this effect the bitter reality you live in? Will it help the odds, or make things even more agonizing? RotS AU Anakin/Padme
Genre (throughout entire story): Romance/Suspense (Angst/Hurt-Comfort/Family/Friendship/Drama/Adventure)
Main Characters: Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala
Rating: T (Intense Situations and Romance)
How the 'When Dreams Clash With Realities' came to be:
Too much free time! ;DDDD
Please enjoy!
God Bless,
Heaven's Prayers
"You're waiting for a train, a train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don't know for sure. But it doesn't matter. How can it not matter to you where the train will take you?
Because we'll be together." Inception
Chapter 1: Statue
He was alone. Just staring out of his courter's window at nothing in particular. His stormy blue eyes standing out against the immortal dusty-grey atmosphere the Jedi Temple's rooms have. The temple- he hated to be at the temple; always away from anything he could possible want to be close to.
His eyes suddenly twitched to a sleek skyscraper in front of the violent sun-set. Nothing else moved. Almost like out of a horrid dream, the young man's figure was a statue. He was frozen with his hands hugging his muscular upper arms, gloved hands tense with mental strain. His back too postured for a relaxed soul; knees unbent though he has been standing here for hours. Hidden white teeth crunched and clenched with shielded fear, and his face so placid; akin to sanded and etched stone.
As still as he was, there was an undoubtable essence of his soul tearing and tossing itself. The eyes gave away the storm billowing below, creeping into every strand, cell, and atom of his possession. Hopelessness was there too, echoing through his dilated pupils. This statue, though maybe strong enough to lift mountains of stone, was made of cracking glass, and if touched or spoken to, would seem to shatter into a million sharp shards.
You somehow knew he felt every second magnetized to an eternity and yet they were still stolen away too quickly.
'I should be with her right now,' he thought, 'not trapped in this… cage.' As usual, Skywalker's thoughts drifted and mused on his wife. His screaming eyes zoomed in on her apartment building; his mind engrossed on every detail of his memories and realities.
Beautiful memories collided with his hideous reality. He was going to lose her in thirty crashing days along with their first and last child; and even though the horizon he saw was endless, he felt backed up against a wall with nowhere to turn. It felt already over for him- that he had nothing else to lose for it was already lost.
His wife's warm brown eyes, her celestial beauty, the overwhelming sooth in her presence, an unbreakable strength harbored in her soul, her millions of details and puzzle pieces were all disintegrating into dust. Losing her would be losing his soul's breath and heartbeat; he knew he couldn't live without her. The unbearable thought crippled his breath.
And then, the precious child she carried. The very evidence of their love was to be snatched away without mercy by death's grip. Whenever he thought of their baby, 'she' always flashed through his mind- or Leia from time to time. He pictured her having her mother's eyes and magnificence, and he hoped his wife's strength and not his own. He could see her little hands grasping his finger, coos and gurgling from her tiny mouth. Two miniature arms and two miniature legs, ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes- and her soft, sweet smelling breath with a strong and flourishing heartbeat… but all would never be.
They would both become his tormenting memories, never a reality. A reality they deserved to have; he had had it for a day, on perfect day in heaven with his two angels. He was walking on air, moving faster than light, and smiling brighter than the Tatooine suns; in one life changing day he was given a dream for his reality. But it… they, were stolen by endless nightmares in mere seconds. Why? Why was he given such a cruel hand? He, he might deserve this, but them? They have done nothing! Absolutely nothing to deserve this twisted fate. He was angry; angry at the Council, at Obi-Wan, at people in his life he could be angry at, but above all the others he hated and angered after- it was himself he disgusted the most. He alone had done this to his angel, he had sealed their fate with his love and he wasn't strong enough to stop it.
He was a failure as a husband and then father. His poisoning guilt and anger stained his mind and raced through his veins. His bolted statue form stayed trapped in his self-made prison.
With his mind so lost, and senses so numb, he didn't hear the footsteps outside his door, he didn't notice his door open and close, he didn't even sense his master's too familiar presence lift up the cold room.
"Hello, Anakin," his mentor's quiet and troubled voice said. Anakin's fractured body jumped and he faced the man.
He recognized the man's bearded face, brown hair, and worn eyes; he slowly and uneasily relaxed his response. "Hello, Obi-Wan," his voice flooded with his sorrow, and the master's eyes saddened with the sinking tone, "I trust your mission was a success."
"It was."
"I am glad to hear it," he said, even though he retains nothing to imply joy.
The other man knew his brother was in pain, "Anakin, what is…"
The words faded away as senses drowned Skywalker's mind. He saw a hallway violently fade in and out of his mind; he squinted his eyes trying to make out the vision. Stairs- he knew them; they were at Padme's apartment. Then, walking down a few steps, a sudden slip, and scrambling to grab hold of something. Pain- it stabbed through his mind while things were pugnaciously turned around and upside-down. He leaned onto a wall for balance and clinged onto his head. He heard a loud thud and heavy, shallow breathing mixed with the sense of panic. Then he hears liquid- or something gory, then shaper stabs of pain. Suddenly- he was thrusted out of it with a feeling of hitting cement.
He panted in fear and looked around in a cold sweat. He was too panicked to feel the hands on his shoulders, or Obi-Wan's frantic words. He knew that voice in his vision, it was hers; it was his angel. He couldn't move, the vision left him crippled until- reflexes. He bolted out of the room running ten times faster than any human can; with Kenobi in his dust.
To be continued…
A/N:
Well, there's the first chapter! I am so nervous about what you will think when I post the next chapters, I hope I haven't ruined the story with what comes next! *shaking from frazzled nerves*
I want to thank you for reading this, and if you review. A review means so much for me, but you reading this counts just as much!
Until next time! :D