FicWad

PART 6 - By Your Side

In the morning, Obi-Wan felt as if every bone ached in his body, an ache that was rooted in his very soul. A part of him knew this trouble with Anakin was a very long time coming, yet somehow he'd managed to ignore it, push it aside without confronting the truth.

Now it was here, and Obi-Wan was still unsure how to face it.

The Jedi Master made his way through the Temple, dwarfed by the soaring heights of the archways above him. Other figures made their way to and from various assignments, looking as miniscule as he felt.

One figure in particular captured Obi-Wan's attention. A figure dressed in white struggled her way up the long stairs leading to the upper spire that lead to the Council chambers. With one hand, the woman gripped the stair rail while the other supported her swelling belly.

"Senator!" he called out to her, dashing through the remainder of the distance to her side. "My lady!"

Padmé paused, leaning her weight upon the railing as she turned to the familiar voice. "Obi-Wan," she addressed him, slightly out of breath.

"Padmé, please," he requested, offering a hand to support her. "You should be in the medcentre."

Ignoring his efforts to get her to return to her rooms, Padmé spoke, "I asked to see Anakin this morning. I was told he was in 'temporary quarters' and was not allowed visitors. Is this true?"

Unable to look her in the eye, Obi-Wan lowered his gaze and his voice. "Yes. It's true."

"Why, Obi-Wan?" Padmé questioned. "Why is he being kept as a prisoner? What possibly could he have done-?"

"He used his power to strike out in anger, Padmé," Obi-Wan explained quietly. "He almost injured younglings."

For a brief moment, shock and disbelief flashed across her face. She frowned and shook the image from her mind. "But he didn't, did he." A statement, not a question, issued from her lips-a resolute conviction.

"No, but-"

"Obi-Wan," Padmé pleaded as she gripped his shoulder. "You of all people can't believe he is capable of doing harm to others?"

Looking her squarely in the eye, Obi-Wan soberly responded, "He does."

Her lips parted with incredulousness.

"Padmé," Obi-Wan continued, "Anakin is very powerful. He has always had an innate ability to attune himself to the Force, and...." Obi-Wan's eyes flickered guiltily as his voice lowered to a whisper. "He is a very well-trained warrior."

Padmé stared sternly at the Jedi Master for a long moment, her lips pressed tightly together. With determination lighting her eyes, she whispered back, "Surely you still remember that little boy from Tatooine, Obi-Wan."

Pain filled his eyes as he returned her gaze. "Of course I do. I look upon Anakin and wonder-'When did he grow up and become a man?' I still see that innocent heart yearning with the desire to single-handedly change the galaxy. But, Padmé, that's part of the problem."

The senator never learned how to take no for an answer. "It is also part of the solution. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You and I may be Anakin's only hope."



Anakin opened his eyes. He found himself kneeling on the cold durasteel floor of a factory. A multi-legged droid scuttled by him like some impossibly massive beetle. The sound of metal grinding against metal clamoured in the distance.

Anakin's face was warm. Steam vents poured out tremendous heat all around him. The smell of sulfur and rock permeated his senses.

Mustafar.

This place was forever etched in his mind as well as his soul. It was in his Dark Vision. Although he had already taken Palpatine's offer to become his second in command, and willingly went to slaughter his Jedi brothers as a Lord of the Sith, it was at Mustafar where Darth Vader was truly born.

Anakin had returned.

A piercing scream cried out in the distance.

Jumping to his feet, Anakin crossed the long hallway past the conveyors out into the open field were molten lava bubbled and burst up from a hellish pit.

The cry called out again. "Anakin!"

Shock coursed through his body as blood drained from him. His sight caught notice of a lithe figure clothed in white struggling up the rock face of a cliff.

"Padmé!" he shouted back.

Anakin gauged the distance he needed to push himself to get to her. It seemed so far away. Even with his Force abilities and Jedi training, he wasn't sure he could make it. One miscalculation would send him tumbling to his death-or worse.

Anakin ran along the crossways built up over the cliffs, trying to find a better vantage point. Padmé was alone on an island, separated from the rest of the cliffs that made up the gorge. And the tide of lava was rising.

"Padmé!" he shouted to her from her left, still too far away to make the jump under his own power. "Hold on! I'm coming!"

Anakin deduced he should be able to reach her-if only just-if he used his liquid cable launcher. Only problem was the sizzling heat. Over the lava pit, it was likely the launcher's rope would deteriorate quickly. He could certainly use it long enough to get him half-way to his destination; the Force could give him the rest. But how could he possibly get her back to safety?

Padmé screamed in surprise and terror as liquid fire licked at her boots.

Anakin decided it didn't matter-he would find a way to save her or die trying.

Reaching for his utility belt, he found his cable launcher missing. In a panic, he checked the back of his belt, too, but it was gone.

"Anakin," a deep voice spoke softly.

Whirling about, Anakin found himself face-to-face with Qui-Gon Jinn. Nestled in the crook of each arm was a sleeping child.

Anakin's eyes flickered briefly to the children, then back to the Jedi Master's face. The man was just as Anakin remembered-stalwart and tall, resolute and quietly determined. His deep blue eyes pierced Anakin's soul with a gentle caress.

"Qui-Gon?" Anakin breathed incredulously.

"Let her go, Anakin," Qui-Gon's voice was soothingly stern.

Anakin frowned and shook his head in disbelief. "No. I can't."

"You must." Qui-Gon's voice was matter-of-fact more than a command. "Let her go," he repeated.

Anakin looked again at the sleeping children nestled peacefully in the powerful man's arms. These were his own progeny, he knew. To embrace them into his life, Anakin would have to let go of his past.

He would have to let Padmé go.

Swiftly turning away from the vision of Qui-Gon, Anakin looked back at the cliff and saw-

Nothing.

Padmé was gone.

"No...," Anakin whispered, trying to will her back to existence.

But the dream was done.

Sitting up from the single cot that extended from the wall of his windowless and featureless cell, Anakin wiped the perspiration from his face and stared up at the white walls surrounding him.

With the briefest of efforts, Anakin reached out into the Force and felt the life energies of the fellow Jedi outside. Not only the guards just outside the door, but throughout the whole Temple. With a little more effort, he could reach out to touch Padmé-

But he couldn't.

Despite all the powers he had learned to harness, despite the fathomless mystery that was the Force, Anakin could do nothing to save his beloved.

Anakin clasped the hair at his temples, his whole body shuddering with an anguished sigh. He dropped to his knees on the floor. Lowering his arms to his sides, although his hands were still balled into fists, Anakin's brow creased in concentration to empty his mind. Try as he might, the serenity that should have flowed through him in meditation as Master Obi-Wan once taught him never seemed to come. Instead, Anakin's soul filled with fear, anguish and despair.

What was it that Yoda once said to him?

"Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering!"

How could he possibly let go?

Attachment is forbidden.

That was the Golden Rule. That was the reason why Anakin shouldn't have married. That was the reason why he hadn't been allowed to return to Tatooine and find his mother in time to save her.

Attachment.

Anakin couldn't separate his feelings from his attachments. His feelings were his attachments. He was attached to his emotions as he was attached to...to...his arm.

Anakin opened his eyes and raised his mechanical arm, clenching it before him. How easily his arm had been separated from him in his impetuous attack against Dooku.

"The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers."

His daughter had said that in his Vision. Now her phantom words mocked him.

The tighter he held on to Padmé, the more she seemed to slip away.

"No!" Anakin's tortured soul cried from his mouth as he doubled over and lay his head on the ground, tears falling unbidden to the floor.

Why couldn't he let go? !



Inside the Council chambers, Obi-Wan stood behind and to one side of Senator Amidala who, despite his protests to bring her case to the Council himself while she remained in the medcentre, managed to make it up the stairs and across the great hall. If the Council was to keep Anakin imprisoned, they would have to face the family he would leave behind.

"Master Windu, I don't understand," she spoke as diplomatically as she could, considering her emotional state. "If Anakin has freely left the Order, why is he being held prisoner?"

Mace looked pained to answer, but he realised only the stark truth would make the senator understand. "Senator, your...husband is undeniably strong in the Force. There is no guarantee that he would be capable of restraining himself from using his powers. He already demonstrated his inability yesterday-"

"But I know Anakin!" Padmé interrupted flustered. "He's incapable of injuring others!"

"Not anymore."

Silence hung over the Council chambers as Padmé's worried eyes pleaded with the Jedi to take back his words.

In a moment of decision, Obi-Wan licked his lips and stepped forward. "I'm afraid I have a confession to make," he announced before the Council. "I, too, have broken the Code."

Mace flashed a surprised look at Obi-Wan, then exchanged a look with Yoda. The green Jedi seemed to be the only Council member who was not the least bit stunned by Obi-Wan's proclamation. Mace returned his attention back to Obi-Wan.

Hands crossed in the edges of his cloak, Obi-Wan continued, "I have an attachment. I...I love Anakin like a brother." He looked down and swallowed. Raising his head, he met Yoda's gaze with determination and purpose. "I would sacrifice my own life for him-spend the remainder of my years watching over his children on a remote world if I had to."

Yoda's ears twitched as Obi-Wan continued.

Obi-Wan's eyes drifted out to the flowing cityscape beyond the Temple. He continued in a whisper, as if he were speaking only to himself, "Qui-Gon once told me he foresaw me becoming a great Jedi Knight. It is only now I realise-" His voice broke for a moment as he held back his emotions. "It is only now, this very moment, I realise that I would not be the Jedi I am today if it were not for Anakin."

Silence ensued as Obi-Wan's voice faded away like a wisp of breath on a chilly morning. Uncertainty tainted with guilt hung in the air between the fellow Council members.

Padmé took a step forward and broke the silence with her commanding voice. "Anakin is your brother, your friend. You filled his ears with prophecy about being chosen. You made him into your Jedi saviour-yet not one among you has shown a gram of compassion for him like Obi-Wan has!"

Yoda bowed his head, his chin resting pensively on his gimmer stick as he accepted the blame Anakin's wife placed on them. "Correct, you are," his saddened voice acknowledged. "His trust we lost with our suspicious nature. Faith in the Force-and in young Skywalker-we had not."

"It's not too late, Master Yoda!" Padmé pleaded. "Show him the faith you have in him-! Uhh!" Suddenly Padmé lurched forward, her hands clasping her abdomen.

Obi-Wan instantly bounded to her side, placing his arms around her to prevent her from falling. "Padmé?"

The senator gasped as another spasm hit her. Looking down, Obi-Wan realised Padmé's water had broken.

"We must get her to the medcentre-quickly!"