Endurance Beyond Fear: Ten Things Anakin Skywalker in the RR-Verse
Disclaimer: I own nothing. :)
Author's Notes: Well, finally got around to Anakin. #Prays it's good. I kind of wrote this in an angsty mood -- don't worry, though. I'll get back to my humor stuff, soon. :)
1. Despite the fact they were technically “Aunt Shmi” and “Uncle Cliegg” to him, to Anakin Skywalker, they were “Mom” and “Dad”. Some people might not understand why he cared for them so much
Vader, for example, and to a lesser extent, Lumiya
but in a way, they kept him fighting throughout the darker parts of the war. When not even thoughts of Vestara or Padmè or his real parents, Mara and Luke, could keep him warm, he would take out one little memento of them. The family locket. The drawings that he’d managed to scavenge from the burning hut
even remembering the ash, the ash and smoke, was enough to make him nauseous thinking about it
childish drawings of shooting stars and rainbows and other fanciful things. Scraps of stories he’d written with Kitster. Japor snippet carvings.
He would lie awake and listen to the sound of warm, gentle laughter in the next room, laughter warm as whiskey and soft as a lullaby, and look over the little pieces of his past. Perfect. This is perfect.
And nothing could ever change it.
2. As time went by, he’d managed to give some of what he had - what little he had - to Padmè. He never truly had anything to give her, save his devotion to her and the cause they both served, and yet, in her way, she managed to take what he gave her, what little things he could give her to express his love
though she didn’t quite know it, or even seem to acknowledge it
and for a moment, Anakin felt...young. Young as he really was.
“I don’t truly have much to give,” he said, almost stupidly. “Most of my things - the stormtroopers destroyed them when they were searching my house. And - ’’
Padmè smiled. “You don’t have to do this for me, Anakin.”
“I know. I just thought...” He didn’t know what to say. “I mean...after Naboo...I just wish there was a way I could undo what was done to you. I wish I could heal your scars...and your pain.”
He felt so raw, so open, so embarrassed saying these words, but at the same time, saying them was a degree of solace. Padmè chuckled - it was a warm, sweet, musical sound that he didn’t mind at all.
“There’s no need to laugh,” he said, though he was smiling as well. “I was being serious.”
“I know, Anakin. I just...you remind me a lot of a boy I once knew. His name was Palo. Sometimes...” She swallowed. “It does hurt sometimes, to - ’’
“I know.”
He drew her into a reassuring embrace. Padmè looked up at him, almost as if in surprise, before relaxing into the touch. And there by the fireplace they slept even as the Rebel Lifeday Celebration raged long into the night.
No one would ever acknowledge them waking up in the other’s arms the next morning.
3. He’d always been a defiant child. He still remembered the one time, back when he still lived on Tatooine, when he’d gone to school. The teacher, of course, was lecturing about how the Jedi had to be quashed in order to save the Republic from certain destruction
even at a young age, Anakin had a niggling feeling that it wasn’t true; even if the Jedi had attacked first, did they deserve to be dragged around like animals? Almost like the Rebels were?
and how in the end, installing the Empire was the best thing for everyone
even watching the Holonet reports last night about the latest executions
rectifications, as some of the reporters called it in order to avoid a degree of discomfort/being arrested themselves for “indiscretion” against the Empire
and blah blah blah...Anakin frowned. How could they even justify what happened? How the Rebels were mostly peaceably marching in the streets before the Empire decided to land their fancy Star Destroyers on them and utterly crush them? Shmi had managed to turn it off in time and tell him to go do his homework
not that that would have taken his mind off things
but the images had haunted Anakin’s dreams. Shmi and Owen had told him stories of the Old Republic, and he’d occasionally heard some people telling stories about the Golden Days as well, in the bar where he, Wald and Kitster would hang out and get a ruby bliel, but even then...
It was only after she’d gone on and on about how the Rebels had - unprovokedly, or so she said - attacked a major Imperial city
it had been all over the Holonet all day; it was like you couldn’t escape it
“Why do you think they may have done these things?” The teacher seemed to be speaking almost to herself. Anakin’s frown deepened; something about her unsettled him. The way she seemed to be talking down to them, telling them what to think, what to feel, what to -
“We meddle.”
Everyone turned to look at Anakin. Anakin could feel the blush climbing his cheeks, but he didn’t care.
“People don’t like being meddled with,” he said. “We tell them what to do, what to think, what to say: don’t run, don’t walk, don’t do this, don’t do that. We’re in their homes and in their heads, trying to manipulate them into feeling this way or that way - and we know we shouldn’t do it, but we do it anyway. It’s not a government, it’s a prison. And people don’t thrive in prisons.”
One could have heard a pin drop.
Then the teacher walked towards him. Almost immediately, Anakin felt small...very small, and very foolish.
“Anakin - ’’
“I don’t deny the Empire’s integrity,” Anakin said, putting enough inflection into the word “integrity” to show that he thought the opposite. “I just wish they could find a better way to deal with the...Rebel threat, other than wanton slaughter.”
“The Empire does what they must!”
“I don’t think kicking down other people’s doors in the middle of the night and arresting them really qualifies, ma’am.”
He’d gotten detention for that, of course. But in between the sore wrists from constantly scrubbing floors and Cliegg gently reprimanding him
not that I don’t admire your courage, kiddo, but that attitude’s going to get you killed out there...
Anakin, at the very last, fell asleep satisfied. No one was going to sway him away from how he felt. No one. And when he was old enough, he’d leave Tatooine behind
maybe take Mom and Dad with me, and Wald and Kitster
and go soaring. They’d save the galaxy from monsters, and right the wrongs that the Empire had wrought. Perhaps I’ll even fly with Jedi Knights - or angels.
And for all the seeming frivolity of that idea, it was enough to allow Anakin to sleep well, and perhaps better than he had in a week or so.
4. Sometimes, whenever homework and chores were over, and Anakin had nothing much to do, he’d go racing with Kitster. Or help him make up stories - Kitster was writing a novel. A series of novels, in fact. His parents disapproved, of course
they probably expected him to be a typical hardworking Tatooine farmboy
but Anakin had embraced the idea. Even the idea of making up names for imaginary places and woodlands, devising new languages and helping Kitster out with certain areas of the plot that were bothering him were enough to drive the memories of the recent carnage on the Holonet
and Vader’s voice, honey and steel, trying
and failing, at least for Anakin
to reassure the people that the Rebels would be crushed, sooner or later
from Anakin’s memory. At least now.
But even falling asleep, the memories returned. Blood, screams, flash grenades -
why was this even happening?
-- filled Anakin’s mind until he woke up in a fresh sweat, sobbing for breath. And after that, he’d go out to work on the machines and vaporators - which had conveniently broken, again.
I swear, no one else’s vaporators fail that easily...
This was, after all, how he relaxed.
5. It was the arrival of the droids that had ultimately turned his world upside down. Something seemingly ordinary - just the Jawas delivering some droids that would most likely help them out on the farm
and carry it through the coming winter - Tatooine’s winters could be vicious -
only for things to get even more interesting after Anakin discovered the holorecording. A young woman, dressed in white, pleading, Please hurry, Han. You’re our only hope.
He hadn’t expected everything else to turn out the way he did. But even now, Anakin supposes
thinking of Padmè, Palpatine, and so on
that in a way, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
6. Long after the destruction of the First Death Star, Anakin found a degree of solace in Padmè. Perhaps she didn’t know much about the Force
other than what Ruwee and Jobal must have told her
but at the very least, she could listen to him, tell him that it was all right, that they were all in this together. He found solace in Obi-Wan as well, and Palpatine
especially since they knew much about the Force, perhaps more than Anakin did, so at the very least they could give him reassurance and guidance
and in the innocence of Jar-Jar, C-3PO and R2-D2. He found solace in Rogue Squadron, and in the rest of the Rebellion - without them, he doubted he would have gotten this far.
Anakin Skywalker wouldn’t have gotten far without Obi-Wan Kenobi, he’d said to Obi-Wan, and perhaps this is the truest. Without Obi-Wan or Padmè or anyone else, he would have given up long ago.
So even now, in Kashyyyk’s prison, he looks Vader in the face and refuses to back down.
“Why do you continue to resist?” Vader croons that phrase, almost like a lullaby. “Why do you persist when there is no hope?”
“Because I have something worth persisting for,” Anakin says. “Several, in fact.” He continues to stare Vader down. “I doubt you’d ever understand.”
Vader hits him again. It doesn’t hurt anymore - it’s Vader’s attempt to make sure that everyone knows Skywalker’s mine, no one else’s. Anakin does not take his glance from Vader’s. He is not The Hero Without Fear, as the Holonet now makes him out to be
a demon of light, an angel of destruction
indeed, fear eats at him every day.
He’s stronger than fear. Caedus told him that - Palpatine told him that. It wouldn’t do to let them down in this hellhole.
So even as Vader screams at him and tortures him and tears at him, Anakin Skywalker, Son of the Suns, the Chosen One, refuses to make a sound.
7. Anakin Skywalker loves to write. And after Bespin and Kashyyyk, long after the war’s over, it becomes even more essential to his life. He never thought anyone else would read it - except maybe Padmè. Padmè, at the very least, he could trust with what would happened - not that he couldn’t trust anyone else, but Padmè seemed like the one who would most understand what had happened to him.
Even as she rustled through the book, chuckling at some parts, frowning at others - even coming close to tears, but for all Anakin tried to take the book from her hands, she refused - Anakin waited, body tense as the drawn string of a bow. Finally, Padmè spoke. “That’s...wonderful, Anakin. How long did it take you to finish it?”
“I wouldn’t say finished,” Anakin said. “There is, after all,” he added with a smile, “Room for a little more.”
“Such as?”
“What about you or Obi-Wan? I want to hear your sides of the story. I want to hear about all the people that got me here. Most of all,” Anakin said, “I want to hear more about Padmè.”
Silence.
“Anakin - ’’
“Anakin Skywalker wouldn’t have gotten far without Padmè.”
More silence.
And then after a long while, Padmè laughed. At first, Anakin tried to protest, saying that he was being serious, before Padmè spoke again.
“Anakin, I know,” she said. “It’s just - I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Anakin placed a hand on her shoulder. “Neither did I.”
The road to healing would be long and difficult, but as long as they had each other, Anakin was certain that everything was going to be all right.
After all, things did turn out right in the end - ultimately.
8. Speaking with Padmè long after Bespin was difficult, to say the least. And even more so after the incident with Xizor and the other bounty hunters on the Ord Mantell mission - apparently, Xizor wasn’t going to rest until they were either brought to the Hutts or...his. Even now, Anakin shuddered thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t managed to break out of his cell and get Padmè and the others in time.
They’d managed to get away - and Padmè had done...beautifully, to say the least. It was almost terrifying, seeing Padmè’s face as she stabbed Xizor through the stomach, that look of uncharacteristic joy in her eyes - but at the same time, Anakin mused, after what that son of a schutta had done, it may have actually been justified.
He’d found her in the garage, working at one of the terminals, when he’d finally been able to talk with her. But even around her, it was far from easy. There’d always been an element of...mynocks in his stomach whenever he spoke to her, an element of stumbling, but it was usually subdued. But this...somehow, he doubted that there’d ever be that sort of ease between them again.
They didn’t argue. In fact, the hostility was minimal. But underneath the surface of an otherwise ordinary conversation, something in Anakin silently screamed i love you loud enough to have Anakin’s mind quietly ring from the noise. He’d been dying to tell her everything that he’d had on his mind since Bespin, he’d wanted...so much, and yet he didn’t know where quite to begin.
Finally he spoke.
“Padmè,” he said. “I - what happened on Bespin - ’’
“I know.” Her eyes were warm, open as always - and yet there was something in them almost detached. As if she was still in that prison on the First Death Star, frightened and alone -
He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her - if it were any other circumstances
the nightmares
or anyone else
Obi-Wan, or even Palpatine
he would have reached over, patted their shoulder or cheek, or done anything to let them know that all was well, and he was here. But he doubted Padmè wanted to be comforted - everything about her seemed to be struggling between getting closer towards Anakin and backing away, as if he were one of the sadistic monsters in her dream.
Finally...
“If I die tomorrow - ’’ He didn’t know what possessed him to say it; perhaps it was a way of saying we face the same demons; you realize you’re not alone or help me, Padmè - Vader won’t leave me be or...anything. Either way, he doubted that dying was really the first thing on his mind. Other people dying, though...
“You won’t die, Anakin,” Padmè said, finally reaching over to put an arm around him. “That’s...morbid thinking.”
“But I - ’’
“We’ll make it out alive,” Padmè said. “And that’s a promise.”
And something in her smile
so warm, so open - he doubted even the many moons of Coruscant itself could hold up against it -
something in that gentle, protective
yet somehow possessive
touch
somehow, Anakin Skywalker couldn’t quite argue against it.
9. He didn’t know how long it was before they were able to say they loved one another; if anything, Wedge, Hobbie and the others kept ribbing them about being boyfriend and girlfriend (to which they vehemently denied). And yet there was something in Anakin that wanted to throw caution to the winds, to go with Padmè, to...love her. Yet it was unlikely. She was a Senator and a Rebel Leader, one who had devoted almost all her life to fighting the Empire, and he was a fledgling Jedi. One wrong move would spell doom and destruction for them all.
Second was whether...Padmè was willing. If she felt the same way for him. Even though it shouldn’t have hurt as much, Oris’ taunt of how could she possibly associate herself with a peasant boy like you?
granted, he might have been...wound tight. More than usual, that is
stung.
Now, after Bespin, it was even worse: how could she love the son of Lord Vader? She and Obi-Wan and the others had made it clear that they loved him without restraint, and yet...
Anakin sighed and drew the covers further over his head. Kashyyyk’s bunkers were kriffing uncomfortable - he didn’t know who designed them, but he doubted they really had humans in mind. Best he could do was adjust himself carefully in order to avoid complete discomfort.
And the sound of wildlife...enough combat training had seasoned Anakin to expect enemy fire at any moment, almost like a proximity alarm built into his brain. It was too quiet, too peaceful. And if they didn’t return from deactivating the shield generator -
You’re focusing on the negative. Even now, he could hear Palpatine’s voice in his mind, and he had to smile a bit. Even so...
Anakin closed his eyes and let the unsettling peace of Kashyyyk wash over him, gently lapping away his misery.
10. It was late in the morning that he heard the Wookiee war cries - but even then, he didn’t need them to figure out the obvious: Vader and the others were here. Even rushing out into the forest with the others, he could already see a familiar sight. People falling left and right
how many people have to die before Vader finds me?
every moment you keep Anakin Skywalker from me, more people will die
if I -
“Padmè!”
She and the others had already taken down a good number of stormtroopers. Anakin continued to hack the path clear - if they could get to the shield generator in the process, so much the better -
And then everything seemed to go still. Anakin could feel the familiar chill wash over him, that feeling of emptiness that seemed to have been following him ever since Yavin - at least, ever since the First Death Star. Vader was here. So close Anakin could practically smell him.
“I do not wish to spill innocent blood. Hand over Anakin Skywalker to me, and no one will be harmed.”
Anakin swallowed and stepped forward. No more running. He would face the Dark Lord or die trying.
Something had to give.
Author's Notes: Well, finally got around to Anakin. #Prays it's good. I kind of wrote this in an angsty mood -- don't worry, though. I'll get back to my humor stuff, soon. :)
1. Despite the fact they were technically “Aunt Shmi” and “Uncle Cliegg” to him, to Anakin Skywalker, they were “Mom” and “Dad”. Some people might not understand why he cared for them so much
Vader, for example, and to a lesser extent, Lumiya
but in a way, they kept him fighting throughout the darker parts of the war. When not even thoughts of Vestara or Padmè or his real parents, Mara and Luke, could keep him warm, he would take out one little memento of them. The family locket. The drawings that he’d managed to scavenge from the burning hut
even remembering the ash, the ash and smoke, was enough to make him nauseous thinking about it
childish drawings of shooting stars and rainbows and other fanciful things. Scraps of stories he’d written with Kitster. Japor snippet carvings.
He would lie awake and listen to the sound of warm, gentle laughter in the next room, laughter warm as whiskey and soft as a lullaby, and look over the little pieces of his past. Perfect. This is perfect.
And nothing could ever change it.
2. As time went by, he’d managed to give some of what he had - what little he had - to Padmè. He never truly had anything to give her, save his devotion to her and the cause they both served, and yet, in her way, she managed to take what he gave her, what little things he could give her to express his love
though she didn’t quite know it, or even seem to acknowledge it
and for a moment, Anakin felt...young. Young as he really was.
“I don’t truly have much to give,” he said, almost stupidly. “Most of my things - the stormtroopers destroyed them when they were searching my house. And - ’’
Padmè smiled. “You don’t have to do this for me, Anakin.”
“I know. I just thought...” He didn’t know what to say. “I mean...after Naboo...I just wish there was a way I could undo what was done to you. I wish I could heal your scars...and your pain.”
He felt so raw, so open, so embarrassed saying these words, but at the same time, saying them was a degree of solace. Padmè chuckled - it was a warm, sweet, musical sound that he didn’t mind at all.
“There’s no need to laugh,” he said, though he was smiling as well. “I was being serious.”
“I know, Anakin. I just...you remind me a lot of a boy I once knew. His name was Palo. Sometimes...” She swallowed. “It does hurt sometimes, to - ’’
“I know.”
He drew her into a reassuring embrace. Padmè looked up at him, almost as if in surprise, before relaxing into the touch. And there by the fireplace they slept even as the Rebel Lifeday Celebration raged long into the night.
No one would ever acknowledge them waking up in the other’s arms the next morning.
3. He’d always been a defiant child. He still remembered the one time, back when he still lived on Tatooine, when he’d gone to school. The teacher, of course, was lecturing about how the Jedi had to be quashed in order to save the Republic from certain destruction
even at a young age, Anakin had a niggling feeling that it wasn’t true; even if the Jedi had attacked first, did they deserve to be dragged around like animals? Almost like the Rebels were?
and how in the end, installing the Empire was the best thing for everyone
even watching the Holonet reports last night about the latest executions
rectifications, as some of the reporters called it in order to avoid a degree of discomfort/being arrested themselves for “indiscretion” against the Empire
and blah blah blah...Anakin frowned. How could they even justify what happened? How the Rebels were mostly peaceably marching in the streets before the Empire decided to land their fancy Star Destroyers on them and utterly crush them? Shmi had managed to turn it off in time and tell him to go do his homework
not that that would have taken his mind off things
but the images had haunted Anakin’s dreams. Shmi and Owen had told him stories of the Old Republic, and he’d occasionally heard some people telling stories about the Golden Days as well, in the bar where he, Wald and Kitster would hang out and get a ruby bliel, but even then...
It was only after she’d gone on and on about how the Rebels had - unprovokedly, or so she said - attacked a major Imperial city
it had been all over the Holonet all day; it was like you couldn’t escape it
“Why do you think they may have done these things?” The teacher seemed to be speaking almost to herself. Anakin’s frown deepened; something about her unsettled him. The way she seemed to be talking down to them, telling them what to think, what to feel, what to -
“We meddle.”
Everyone turned to look at Anakin. Anakin could feel the blush climbing his cheeks, but he didn’t care.
“People don’t like being meddled with,” he said. “We tell them what to do, what to think, what to say: don’t run, don’t walk, don’t do this, don’t do that. We’re in their homes and in their heads, trying to manipulate them into feeling this way or that way - and we know we shouldn’t do it, but we do it anyway. It’s not a government, it’s a prison. And people don’t thrive in prisons.”
One could have heard a pin drop.
Then the teacher walked towards him. Almost immediately, Anakin felt small...very small, and very foolish.
“Anakin - ’’
“I don’t deny the Empire’s integrity,” Anakin said, putting enough inflection into the word “integrity” to show that he thought the opposite. “I just wish they could find a better way to deal with the...Rebel threat, other than wanton slaughter.”
“The Empire does what they must!”
“I don’t think kicking down other people’s doors in the middle of the night and arresting them really qualifies, ma’am.”
He’d gotten detention for that, of course. But in between the sore wrists from constantly scrubbing floors and Cliegg gently reprimanding him
not that I don’t admire your courage, kiddo, but that attitude’s going to get you killed out there...
Anakin, at the very last, fell asleep satisfied. No one was going to sway him away from how he felt. No one. And when he was old enough, he’d leave Tatooine behind
maybe take Mom and Dad with me, and Wald and Kitster
and go soaring. They’d save the galaxy from monsters, and right the wrongs that the Empire had wrought. Perhaps I’ll even fly with Jedi Knights - or angels.
And for all the seeming frivolity of that idea, it was enough to allow Anakin to sleep well, and perhaps better than he had in a week or so.
4. Sometimes, whenever homework and chores were over, and Anakin had nothing much to do, he’d go racing with Kitster. Or help him make up stories - Kitster was writing a novel. A series of novels, in fact. His parents disapproved, of course
they probably expected him to be a typical hardworking Tatooine farmboy
but Anakin had embraced the idea. Even the idea of making up names for imaginary places and woodlands, devising new languages and helping Kitster out with certain areas of the plot that were bothering him were enough to drive the memories of the recent carnage on the Holonet
and Vader’s voice, honey and steel, trying
and failing, at least for Anakin
to reassure the people that the Rebels would be crushed, sooner or later
from Anakin’s memory. At least now.
But even falling asleep, the memories returned. Blood, screams, flash grenades -
why was this even happening?
-- filled Anakin’s mind until he woke up in a fresh sweat, sobbing for breath. And after that, he’d go out to work on the machines and vaporators - which had conveniently broken, again.
I swear, no one else’s vaporators fail that easily...
This was, after all, how he relaxed.
5. It was the arrival of the droids that had ultimately turned his world upside down. Something seemingly ordinary - just the Jawas delivering some droids that would most likely help them out on the farm
and carry it through the coming winter - Tatooine’s winters could be vicious -
only for things to get even more interesting after Anakin discovered the holorecording. A young woman, dressed in white, pleading, Please hurry, Han. You’re our only hope.
He hadn’t expected everything else to turn out the way he did. But even now, Anakin supposes
thinking of Padmè, Palpatine, and so on
that in a way, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
6. Long after the destruction of the First Death Star, Anakin found a degree of solace in Padmè. Perhaps she didn’t know much about the Force
other than what Ruwee and Jobal must have told her
but at the very least, she could listen to him, tell him that it was all right, that they were all in this together. He found solace in Obi-Wan as well, and Palpatine
especially since they knew much about the Force, perhaps more than Anakin did, so at the very least they could give him reassurance and guidance
and in the innocence of Jar-Jar, C-3PO and R2-D2. He found solace in Rogue Squadron, and in the rest of the Rebellion - without them, he doubted he would have gotten this far.
Anakin Skywalker wouldn’t have gotten far without Obi-Wan Kenobi, he’d said to Obi-Wan, and perhaps this is the truest. Without Obi-Wan or Padmè or anyone else, he would have given up long ago.
So even now, in Kashyyyk’s prison, he looks Vader in the face and refuses to back down.
“Why do you continue to resist?” Vader croons that phrase, almost like a lullaby. “Why do you persist when there is no hope?”
“Because I have something worth persisting for,” Anakin says. “Several, in fact.” He continues to stare Vader down. “I doubt you’d ever understand.”
Vader hits him again. It doesn’t hurt anymore - it’s Vader’s attempt to make sure that everyone knows Skywalker’s mine, no one else’s. Anakin does not take his glance from Vader’s. He is not The Hero Without Fear, as the Holonet now makes him out to be
a demon of light, an angel of destruction
indeed, fear eats at him every day.
He’s stronger than fear. Caedus told him that - Palpatine told him that. It wouldn’t do to let them down in this hellhole.
So even as Vader screams at him and tortures him and tears at him, Anakin Skywalker, Son of the Suns, the Chosen One, refuses to make a sound.
7. Anakin Skywalker loves to write. And after Bespin and Kashyyyk, long after the war’s over, it becomes even more essential to his life. He never thought anyone else would read it - except maybe Padmè. Padmè, at the very least, he could trust with what would happened - not that he couldn’t trust anyone else, but Padmè seemed like the one who would most understand what had happened to him.
Even as she rustled through the book, chuckling at some parts, frowning at others - even coming close to tears, but for all Anakin tried to take the book from her hands, she refused - Anakin waited, body tense as the drawn string of a bow. Finally, Padmè spoke. “That’s...wonderful, Anakin. How long did it take you to finish it?”
“I wouldn’t say finished,” Anakin said. “There is, after all,” he added with a smile, “Room for a little more.”
“Such as?”
“What about you or Obi-Wan? I want to hear your sides of the story. I want to hear about all the people that got me here. Most of all,” Anakin said, “I want to hear more about Padmè.”
Silence.
“Anakin - ’’
“Anakin Skywalker wouldn’t have gotten far without Padmè.”
More silence.
And then after a long while, Padmè laughed. At first, Anakin tried to protest, saying that he was being serious, before Padmè spoke again.
“Anakin, I know,” she said. “It’s just - I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Anakin placed a hand on her shoulder. “Neither did I.”
The road to healing would be long and difficult, but as long as they had each other, Anakin was certain that everything was going to be all right.
After all, things did turn out right in the end - ultimately.
8. Speaking with Padmè long after Bespin was difficult, to say the least. And even more so after the incident with Xizor and the other bounty hunters on the Ord Mantell mission - apparently, Xizor wasn’t going to rest until they were either brought to the Hutts or...his. Even now, Anakin shuddered thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t managed to break out of his cell and get Padmè and the others in time.
They’d managed to get away - and Padmè had done...beautifully, to say the least. It was almost terrifying, seeing Padmè’s face as she stabbed Xizor through the stomach, that look of uncharacteristic joy in her eyes - but at the same time, Anakin mused, after what that son of a schutta had done, it may have actually been justified.
He’d found her in the garage, working at one of the terminals, when he’d finally been able to talk with her. But even around her, it was far from easy. There’d always been an element of...mynocks in his stomach whenever he spoke to her, an element of stumbling, but it was usually subdued. But this...somehow, he doubted that there’d ever be that sort of ease between them again.
They didn’t argue. In fact, the hostility was minimal. But underneath the surface of an otherwise ordinary conversation, something in Anakin silently screamed i love you loud enough to have Anakin’s mind quietly ring from the noise. He’d been dying to tell her everything that he’d had on his mind since Bespin, he’d wanted...so much, and yet he didn’t know where quite to begin.
Finally he spoke.
“Padmè,” he said. “I - what happened on Bespin - ’’
“I know.” Her eyes were warm, open as always - and yet there was something in them almost detached. As if she was still in that prison on the First Death Star, frightened and alone -
He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her - if it were any other circumstances
the nightmares
or anyone else
Obi-Wan, or even Palpatine
he would have reached over, patted their shoulder or cheek, or done anything to let them know that all was well, and he was here. But he doubted Padmè wanted to be comforted - everything about her seemed to be struggling between getting closer towards Anakin and backing away, as if he were one of the sadistic monsters in her dream.
Finally...
“If I die tomorrow - ’’ He didn’t know what possessed him to say it; perhaps it was a way of saying we face the same demons; you realize you’re not alone or help me, Padmè - Vader won’t leave me be or...anything. Either way, he doubted that dying was really the first thing on his mind. Other people dying, though...
“You won’t die, Anakin,” Padmè said, finally reaching over to put an arm around him. “That’s...morbid thinking.”
“But I - ’’
“We’ll make it out alive,” Padmè said. “And that’s a promise.”
And something in her smile
so warm, so open - he doubted even the many moons of Coruscant itself could hold up against it -
something in that gentle, protective
yet somehow possessive
touch
somehow, Anakin Skywalker couldn’t quite argue against it.
9. He didn’t know how long it was before they were able to say they loved one another; if anything, Wedge, Hobbie and the others kept ribbing them about being boyfriend and girlfriend (to which they vehemently denied). And yet there was something in Anakin that wanted to throw caution to the winds, to go with Padmè, to...love her. Yet it was unlikely. She was a Senator and a Rebel Leader, one who had devoted almost all her life to fighting the Empire, and he was a fledgling Jedi. One wrong move would spell doom and destruction for them all.
Second was whether...Padmè was willing. If she felt the same way for him. Even though it shouldn’t have hurt as much, Oris’ taunt of how could she possibly associate herself with a peasant boy like you?
granted, he might have been...wound tight. More than usual, that is
stung.
Now, after Bespin, it was even worse: how could she love the son of Lord Vader? She and Obi-Wan and the others had made it clear that they loved him without restraint, and yet...
Anakin sighed and drew the covers further over his head. Kashyyyk’s bunkers were kriffing uncomfortable - he didn’t know who designed them, but he doubted they really had humans in mind. Best he could do was adjust himself carefully in order to avoid complete discomfort.
And the sound of wildlife...enough combat training had seasoned Anakin to expect enemy fire at any moment, almost like a proximity alarm built into his brain. It was too quiet, too peaceful. And if they didn’t return from deactivating the shield generator -
You’re focusing on the negative. Even now, he could hear Palpatine’s voice in his mind, and he had to smile a bit. Even so...
Anakin closed his eyes and let the unsettling peace of Kashyyyk wash over him, gently lapping away his misery.
10. It was late in the morning that he heard the Wookiee war cries - but even then, he didn’t need them to figure out the obvious: Vader and the others were here. Even rushing out into the forest with the others, he could already see a familiar sight. People falling left and right
how many people have to die before Vader finds me?
every moment you keep Anakin Skywalker from me, more people will die
if I -
“Padmè!”
She and the others had already taken down a good number of stormtroopers. Anakin continued to hack the path clear - if they could get to the shield generator in the process, so much the better -
And then everything seemed to go still. Anakin could feel the familiar chill wash over him, that feeling of emptiness that seemed to have been following him ever since Yavin - at least, ever since the First Death Star. Vader was here. So close Anakin could practically smell him.
“I do not wish to spill innocent blood. Hand over Anakin Skywalker to me, and no one will be harmed.”
Anakin swallowed and stepped forward. No more running. He would face the Dark Lord or die trying.
Something had to give.