The Moons of Iego: The Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker Website

Children of Circumstance
(chapters 17-24)

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Chapter 17. Remembrance

Padmé cautiously re-entered her apartment in the Palace of Theed from the terrace to find Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi still sitting at her polished dining table leaning his hand on his chin and looking at an overturned chair on the floor.

"That didn't go well," he said without looking up, when he had sensed her presence.

"I'm sorry, Master Kenobi," she said, biting her lip. "Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. I meant well."

"I know you did," he said, chin still in hand. "So did we all."

Padmé slipped back into the chair she had abandoned when the discussion had turned heated and personal. Trying to give the two Jedi some privacy she had to retreat all the way to the far corner of the terrace. Even from that distance she had overheard much of what went on. Three plates of soup had grown cold. They never even made it past the first course.

"Nothing I have ever done has been good enough for you, has it, Master? If I mastered one lesson, I fell short on another. If I won a sparring match I was too flashy. If I triumphed I was immodest. If I saved your life, I was too rash."

"...and of course, it was my fault you were so badly injured on Geonosis. If I tried to help you, I got you hurt."

"I think I'm the one who owes you an apology," Obi-Wan said to his hostess. "You should never have been exposed to that conversation."

"Not at all, Master Kenobi." Padmé was trying not to smile. "In fact, it made me feel quite a bit better."

He looked up, taken aback.

"At least I know I'm not the sole cause of the trouble!"

Obi-Wan went back to his gloomy contemplation of the chair. There was another long silence.

Padmé suddenly started to laugh. She couldn't help it.

"You're wondering what in the world I see in him!" she burst out. "It's written all over you!"

The Jedi Master looked at her in wonder. She was right. He had just been asking himself how this beautiful, well-mannered, intelligent and very gracious woman could possibly be involved with - never mind supposedly in love with - the rude, impulsive and self-centered boy who had just slammed out of the room leaving that overturned chair in his wake. It was impossible to imagine.

"It's a bit like the Master-Padawan relationship," she began, only to be unnerved by a very hard blue-green stare under a pair of sternly raised eyebrows. "I... I mean, in the sense that it can't very well be explained to... outsiders."

Obi-Wan continued to look at her in disbelief.

"This is a side of him I don't normally see," she finished, with uncommon awkwardness.

"I would hope not," the Jedi Master said crisply.

"Why didn't they want me? Why do they watch me all the time? Why are they afraid of me? I have done everything that has been asked of me, and more. But they don't trust me. You don't trust me. What have I done to deserve that?"

"Not of you, Anakin. Of what you might do."

"What might I do? All I ever wanted was to be a Jedi Knight. I was born to be one."

"I know. But are you willing to make the necessary sacrifices? Would you give up love, for example? The kind of love that is personal and exclusive?"

"I don't see why I have to. Why can't I have both? Why can't every Jedi? Why can't you?"

There was another long silence. This time Obi-Wan stared at Padmé rather than at the chair. She stared back.

"Tell me something, Senator Amidala," he finally said. "Why is it that you have not once asked me to leave, or tried to hide your relationship with my Padawan? Why have you tried to bring us together?"

It's a fair question, Padmé thought.

"Probably for the same reason that you have not demanded that I stay away from him or threatened me with exposure and other horrors if I don't." She paused. "We both seem to want the same thing from Anakin - his heart and mind, freely given."

Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully and began to drum his fingers lightly on the table. It was a gesture that only those closest to him would have recognized as a sign of extreme distress. Jedi Knights do not, as a rule, fidget.

"Why did you take me on as Padawan? You had to defy the Council to do that."

"Much of this is my fault, Anakin. I was far too young to be someone's Master. I had just been made a Knight - I had no experience on my own at all. I took you on because it was Master Jinn's dying wish."

"So I was right. You never wanted me. All those years - you didn't care about me - you were just fulfilling an obligation."

"No, Anakin, that isn't true! Listen to me - I ‘m being honest when I tell you how all this began. But it changed - over the years it changed, don't you see? I grew to care for you more than you realize."

But Anakin had no longer been there to hear.

"Master Kenobi?" Padmé's gentle voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up unhappily.

"Master Kenobi, if you don't have any other pressing business right now, would you be willing to take a walk with me? There is something I would like to show you."

"My only pressing business just implied that I am an unfeeling, duty-blinded failure, overturned that chair and left. I think I might have some time available."

Padmé smiled sympathetically and tugged at his arm.

"Come walk with me, Master Kenobi," she said again.

The ancient Palace at Theed stood at the heart of the Naboo Capital's Old City. Surrounded by gracious gardens and plazas, it stood on a hill that overlooked the city, the waterfalls and the plains beyond. Padmé chose a shaded path that wound around the palace and gradually led downward by a series of broad stairs edged by elaborate balustrades. Each landing and turning provided lovely views. The Senator and the Jedi Knight strolled slowly, conversing quietly as Padmé described points of interest in her home city.

Approximately halfway down the hill she paused again at a landing that provided a broad open view of the city and the spaceport. Obi-Wan could sense her distress at the sight of the military activity that flowed through the streets of the city like a river seeping over its banks.

Suddenly Padmé had the unreal feeling that she was watching another scene superimposed onto the view. She saw fires and battles, and experienced a flash of terror that had nothing to do with the mild and beautiful scene below her. Obi-Wan saw her stagger and reached out to steady her before she fell. As soon as he did, she recovered.

"Are you all right, My Lady?" he asked, using the Nubian form of address.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi. I'm fine." She was still stunned by the power of the images she had just experienced and did not feel ready to talk about them.

It must be my imagination, she thought. I am picturing my fears.

The Jedi Knight did not press her, but contented himself with observing her carefully.

It is as I thought, he said to himself. And it is getting worse.

They continued down the path in a comfortable silence, thinking their own thoughts and enjoying the pleasant and undemanding company provided by the other.

From the top of another set of steps Obi-Wan glimpsed the graceful dome of the Theed Temple. He remembered it well. The last time he was there it was filled with dignitaries from throughout the Galaxy who had come to honor his Master at Gui-Gon's funeral pyre. The Jedi Council had been there, as had then-Senator Palpatine. If he allowed the images to surface he could vividly remember the press of grief and the smell of the herbs and incense on the fire. He remembered how the outer silence contrasted with the clamor of thoughts. He remembered the fear in the small boy by his side.

Senator Amidala seemed to be taking them in that direction. Indeed, they followed the path straight toward a plaza that opened onto the Temple district. But his companion veered away from the entrance of the building and instead chose to enter a small gate in one of the massive walls that embraced the Sanctuary on both sides. It led into a completely walled garden that was full of statues and rare and precious plants.

Padmé gestured around the garden, inviting him in.

"This is our Garden of Honors," she explained. "It is our tradition, our way, to commemorate those who have played an important role in our public life."

They circled the quiet and fragrant space slowly, marveling at the variety and artistry of the statues, plaques and sculptures that dotted the garden.

Obi-Wan smiled broadly when he found himself face to face with a substantial and energetically rendered statue of Boss Nass. Padmé laughed. "We are approaching more recent history on this side of the garden," she pointed out.

Then she put her hand on his arm and pulled him almost eagerly into a nearby shady alcove. She stopped in front of a pillar that was so modest compared to the magnificence of the other memorials that it might easily go unnoticed. No higher than eye level, it was a simple polished slab of a rich pinkish stone. A single determined eliril vine was struggling, with limited success, to take hold of the gleaming surface.

Obi-Wan stared at the slab in complete amazement. Affixed to the polished stone near the top of the pillar was a raised metal plaque rendered by a Nubian artisan of staggering gifts. It depicted in exquisite detail the faces of two Jedi Knights and a young boy.

There was his Master's face, rendered so vividly that he expected it to speak. Just below Qui-Gon's was his own youthful face, with his hair still cropped but without his Padawan braid. Below his own shoulder was Anakin as a young boy with his hair flopping into his eyes.

Without intending to Obi-Wan reached out and stroked the image of his Master's face and his vision blurred. Padmé watched him in silence.

"How...how did this get here?" The Jedi Knight asked hoarsely.

"I had it made while I was still Queen," she said quietly. "I felt I wanted to commemorate Master Jinn's role - and your role - in our successful battle against the Trade Federation. And Anakin's, of course."

"We serve," Obi-Wan said briefly. "We do not require commemoration." He did not take his eyes off the plaque.

"It wasn't for you, Master Kenobi," she said. "It was for me. I needed it." There was a long silence. "I was so angry with him, you see."

Obi-Wan tore his eyes away from his Master's face and found hers, completely taken aback.

"Angry with Master Jinn? Why?"

Padmé sank down on a small stone bench that was almost hidden in greenery.

"I was so young, Master Kenobi, and I carried so much responsibility. I needed help desperately. Chancellor Valorum had promised me negotiators. I didn't realize at first that he was sending Jedi Knights."

"I was only a Padawan then, My Lady," Obi-Wan said, seating himself on the ground beside her bench.

"To the outside observer there is very little difference, Master Kenobi," she said dryly. "Based on recent experience I have learned to value the skills of the Jedi Padawan learner highly."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows but held his tongue.

Padmé went on. "I thought initially that Master Jinn would solve all my problems for me. Instead, I found him difficult, contrary and patronizing. He either insisted on doing things entirely his way or refused to help at all."

I cannot fight a war for you.

Obi-Wan remembered. It was fascinating to hear her perspective.

"I never knew whether he was aware from the beginning that I was the Queen."

Obi-Wan grinned. "He was."

"That makes it even worse," Padmé said somewhat sourly, "because he certainly gave no consideration to the Queen's wishes."

"It was for the best," Obi-Wan said.

"Well, that's just it," Padmé reflected. "Only in hindsight did I begin to see that, by forcing us to take action on our own, Master Jinn ensured that the solution we found was one we could follow through on our own. He made it necessary for us to be independent." She reached down and picked a long leaf and began running it through her fingers. "But the whole time he was right there, providing support."

"It is our way." Obi-Wan explained. "The minute we impose our own choices we become part of the problem. Our mission is always to help others find the appropriate solutions."

"It doesn't always work that way, does it, Master Kenobi? Sometimes direct intervention is required."

"It is a fine line," the Jedi Master admitted, thinking poignantly of their current situation, "and one we struggle with constantly."

"So," Padmé went on, finishing her story, "I suppose I felt guilty about my uncharitable feelings toward Master Jinn. Especially after he died. I wanted to commemorate him -all of you - somehow." She looked at him earnestly. "Whenever I feel myself struggling with pride and impatience I come here to re-learn charity and humility."

There was a long silence while both of them followed their own thoughts. Obi-Wan could not remember ever having had a conversation of this nature with someone from outside of the Order.

"And Anakin?"

"You were not by your Master's side on Tatooine, Master Kenobi. Perhaps you have never realized how unselfishly Anakin helped us. I think about that more often than about his spectacular shot on the Trade Federation Control Ship."

Obi-Wan became aware of feelings rising that he thought he had long ago put way for good. Even his visit to the hangar had not wakened them. Yet here they were.

"I was angry with Master Jinn, too," he suddenly found himself saying, surprising himself more than her. The words were extremely difficult to say, but he couldn't seem to stop them and they came out in an uncharacteristic rush.

"I was furious that he had put me aside for that boy. And then he died. I always believed that he died because I failed him. And then his dying wish was that I train Anakin. I had to do it. The only way I could make up for that anger and for failing him was to do the best job I could in raising the boy. It was what my Master wanted."

A breeze rustled though the garden, lifting the Jedi Knight's hair and brushing his face.

"And now, Master Kenobi?" Padmé asked gently.

"And now I believe that I have failed Anakin, too."

Padmé reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "How could you have failed?" She asked. "He is... extraordinary."

There is so much that you don't know, he thought. He is endangering you. He could not think of any words that would be appropriate to say, so he remained silent.

"Like it or not, Master Kenobi," Padmé went on, "you and I are bound together through Anakin. No matter what happens, no matter what punishments you and the Jedi Council devise for him, I will never stop loving him. I think you will find that he feels the same way." A little archly, she finished, "I can't explain it to you, so you will just have to accept it."

And then once again she succeeded in thoroughly surprising him - Jedi Master though he was.

"Since for better or for worse we are practically related, I wish you would call me Padmé."

The Jedi Knight stood up and brushed the leaves off his clothing. His eyes sought the plaque once more and he gazed at the three faces. Then he looked at Padmé.

What a remarkable woman, he thought.

Out loud he said with the deepest courtesy, "My name to you is Obi-Wan. I am at your service."

Padmé smiled at him.

"I will leave you now, My Lady." He looked straight into her eyes. "Thank you for your efforts on my behalf." He looked around the garden briefly and then found her eyes with his again. "Thank you for showing me this."

Padmé inclined her head as well, wondering what he was going to do next.

"Thank you for a most enjoyable walk, Obi-Wan."

The Jedi Knight hesitated.

"I would not leave you if I thought it meant you had to return to the Palace alone. But I believe you will have a companion."

Padmé was puzzled for a moment, then realized whom Obi-Wan must mean.

Anakin?

Here.

"I wish you a good night, My Lady," Obi-Wan said, although it was not later than mid-afternoon. "Please tell Anakin that I will see him in the morning." And with that he resolutely turned his back and strode out of the Garden of Honors with the light, swinging step that comes from balance, poise and firmness of purpose.

It was a gift, and Padmé knew it.

It's all I can do for them, the Jedi Knight thought as he left the garden behind. It may be the last thing I can ever do for Anakin. I hope they find some joy before the storm.

His steps took him across the city toward the Spaceport, where he would spend the remainder of the day and the night meditating, watching for his urgently anticipated reinforcements from Coruscant, and being watched by his Padawan's enemies.

Chapter 18. Truths

The next morning as Anakin was finishing his early morning meditation Obi-Wan appeared in front of him as quietly as a shadow. Since he was sitting on the private terrace attached to Padmé's official residence in the Palace, Anakin could only assume that his Master had come up a number of walls and balustrades to find him rather than invading his and Padmé's privacy. It was decent of him to be discreet, but he never seemed to go away.

This time Anakin noticed his Master's presence. He took his time about opening his eyes.

Obi-Wan was staring at him.

"I'm glad to see that you are keeping up some semblance of discipline," he said.

"Why wouldn't I?" Anakin refused to rise to the bait.

"Well, it's an indolent life here." Obi-Wan waved his hand in an exaggerated circle. "Lovely surroundings, servants, good food." He gave his Padawan a very hard look. "Soft beds..."

"Is there something you want from me?" Anakin asked evenly.

"Yes." Obi-Wan rolled his left shoulder backwards and forwards. "A sparring partner. I'm still having trouble with my left side and I haven't had a challenging workout since I arrived here."

Anakin stood up in one smooth motion. "Flattery. That's unexpected."

"Not flattery. Desperation."

Anakin loved the idea. Sparring sounded so much better than talking. He sorely missed training with his Master, not to mention the easy camaraderie they had once shared. Still, it wouldn't do to look too eager.

"If you like," he said casually. "Where?"

"There's a lovely field not far from the outskirts," Obi-Wan said. "Lots of room. No onlookers."

Anakin wondered idly just how much space his Master thought they would need, but he was happy to go along with it.

He was really looking forward to this.

* * * * *

"It's happening again," Dormé said quietly to Sabé early on the same morning. "I've had the doctor in again and he doesn't have a clue."

"She's not pregnant, is she?" Sabé asked with some hostility.

Dormé rolled her eyes. "No. She just - gets that pain. And she looks so tired all the time. She only perks up in the evenings."

"She was fine before we got onto the Yacht." Sabé thought for a while. "By the time we got off, she was getting these attacks."

Dormé frowned. "You don't suppose she picked up something? Something our doctor wouldn't know about?"

Sabé became grim. "I hate to even think this, but maybe we should have her checked for something unusual - like an obscure poison."

Dormé's eyes filled with tears at the thought.

"You don't think the D'laians would have..."

Sabé shrugged. "Sword tips may not be the only things they like to mess with. I don't trust them and this whole conflict may not be over at all."

Dormé was still tearful. Sabé gave her a little hug.

"Don't worry," she said. "We'll figure something out."

* * * * *

The early morning sun had not yet dried the dew off the grass when the two Jedi began their age-old ritual. To warm up they carried out the stylized and elegant movements of several standard forms, increasing in difficulty until their blood was surging and the Force awaited their commands.

When they finally faced off Anakin let his Master take the lead as always. "Attack me so that I have to defend with the left," Obi-Wan called out. "I want to work that side first."

Obediently Anakin did as he was asked, and the meadow began to sizzle with the sound of crystal swords encountering one another again and again. After a while he began to change hands periodically, trying to establish some kind of balance between the hand that was force-sensitive and the one that was not. It was a problem he had not yet been able to resolve.

Anakin loved every minute of it. There were a great many things he missed about Temple life, not the least of which training and working with Obi-Wan. It didn't occur to him that his Master was watching his every movement, every imbalance and every surge and eddy in the Force like a bird of prey.

When had seen all he needed to, Obi-Wan called out, "Are you up to a challenge?"

"Why?" Anakin asked without missing a stroke.

"Suppose we go all out?"

Anakin thought for a few strokes.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Exhibition match. Single round. My choice of weapons. The match continues until one of us yields."

Anakin felt his face go hotter than the exertion warranted. He should have known there would be a lesson in here somewhere. He sliced viciously at Obi-Wan's weak side, but his Master blocked him easily.

"Why don't you just give me the lecture and get it over with." Anakin had to move fast to dodge the next two thrusts. The lectures were something he hadn't missed so much.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said, keeping up his offensive so that Anakin found himself backing and defending constantly, "perhaps all the rules have changed without my knowing about it. Perhaps the Jedi have a new role in the Galaxy as circus performers." He launched a lethal attack against Anakin's right side. As he had anticipated, with the miniscule delay in response time Anakin always suffered with his artificial hand, Obi-Wan's thrust hit home and Anakin acquired a nasty proximity burn on his neck.

"Hey," Anakin yelled, still defending, "isn't there some kind of rule about killing your Padawan?"

"Possibly." Obi-Wan said, still attacking. He feinted and jumped sideways, forcing the younger Jedi into a roundhouse leap and slash that the Master was perfectly positioned to parry. "I suppose it only applies if he still considers himself to be my Padawan."

So. This was not merely a friendly sparring match. It was a time of reckoning. I should have known, Anakin thought.

"I did what I had to do to protect Padmé," he yelled, panting a bit.

"From what?" Obi-Wan asked out of a close-quarters struggle for position. They were nose to nose, with crossed light sabers between them. "From her own personal and political choices?" They both ended up having to push back to realign their positions.

Anakin came up toward his Master's throat from underneath. Obi-Wan flipped backwards and responded with a counterthrust almost before he landed. He had his Padawan on the defensive at every turn.

Somewhere along the line, Anakin realized, this had stopped being fun. It also wasn't fair, because he couldn't exactly attack his own Master...Not really.

Or could he?

Obi-Wan felt the shift in Anakin's intentions. He knew he was playing a dangerous game but he had long since run out of ideas for getting the boy's undivided attention. Time was running out.

"What makes you think," Obi-Wan said, between thrusts, "that you are capable of protecting her?"

Something shadowy was beginning to gather at the edges of Anakin's awareness - something that wanted in but had until now found no access. He pushed it away by completely changing his tactics. Abruptly changing to his right hand again, he gave up all efforts to make it respond to the Force and used it to its own best advantage - sheer, inhuman strength.

His slashes took on a whole new power and Obi-Wan found himself falling back against the onslaught. Anakin had stopped talking. After failing several times to re-gain the offensive Obi-Wan resorted to guile and shoved him, hard, using only the Force. It only worked because Anakin had been concentrating exclusively on the strength of his attack. The push succeeded in knocking him backwards off his feet and he fell hard onto his shoulder.

Obi-Wan knew that his advantage was mostly the result of luck and decided that speed was preferable to elegance in securing it. He pounced on top of his Padawan and held his light saber across his throat. Anakin stopped, panting, and glared at his Master.

"How is Padmé lately?" Asked Obi-Wan over the singing hum of his weapon. "Is she well?"

"Fine," said Anakin. "She's fine." The shadows were still gathering. Dark tendrils of - something - began to creep up his spine.

"Not tired?" Asked Obi-Wan. "Experiencing some pain, perhaps? Pain that gets better when you are around?"

The darkness reached around toward Anakin's chest, making it hard to breathe.

"How about signs of increased Force sensitivity?" Obi-Wan was looking straight into Anakin's eyes and holding an activated light saber at his throat. There was no escape, however desperately Anakin wanted it.

"Get off me," the temporarily conquered Padawan said through gritted teeth.

Obi-Wan sat back very, very cautiously, not deactivating his light saber until he had withdrawn to a safe distance.

Anakin sat up and glowered at him, rubbing his sore shoulder.

"What are you talking about?"

To his Master's perception, a dark cloud surrounded the boy.

Obi-Wan knelt in front of his Padawan, toes braced against the ground in case he had to spring. Holding the hilt of his light saber lightly but in readiness, he thought carefully about what he was going to say. He made his voice as gentle as he could.

"Anakin, do you know why the Jedi Order forbids the kind of attachment that you and Padmé have?"

Anakin slanted a look at him. The way his Master referred to her by her first name bothered him. It sounded too intimate. It implied a relationship between the two of them separate from himself, and he didn't like that idea one bit.

"Because it is a distraction," he said sullenly. "Because it can create divided loyalties." He had heard the drill many times.

"Both of these things are true," Obi-Wan said carefully, "and you and I can both cite a number of examples that have already taken place in your case."

Anakin didn't respond.

"The rules of the Jedi Order are neither frivolous nor wrong," Obi-Wan said firmly. There are sound reasons for all of them, most of which are based on long and bitter experience."

Anakin looked away.

"There is another reason." Obi-Wan paused to see whether he was getting through.

Anakin's eyes shifted back to him.

Here it comes, thought the Jedi Knight. He'll either hear me or try to kill me. With the courage of a true servant of the Force, Obi-Wan Kenobi told his Padawan the truth.

"The rule against attachment is largely there to protect those with less Force-sensitivity from the harm that can come to them from people like us."

Anakin's face was back to the stony mask that he seemed to have perfected for use around his Master. But Obi-Wan was deeply attuned to him and could sense a cascade of emotions ranging from disbelief to doubt to ... yes, there it was. Fear. There was a part of Anakin that knew, or at least was afraid, that he was telling the truth.

"We have taught you to shield yourself mentally when you are outside of the Temple for a very good reason. You know as well as I do that a highly trained, Force-sensitive adept can wreak havoc on the unwary and unprotected without wanting to."

As he spoke Obi-Wan never took his eyes off Anakin's stony face. If looks could kill...

"I imagine that when you are with her, you let down your mental shielding. That every time you are alone together, she is exposed to a very powerful surge in the Force."

The emotions Obi-Wan sensed inside of his outwardly impassive Padawan were becoming explosive.

"While that - surge - continues, it strengthens and augments her own energy field. But she is untrained, and cannot maintain that level of the Force by herself. When you leave, the augmented energy leaves her and follows you. In effect - your leaving drains her of life Force."

Obi-Wan sighed. This was so difficult. He had worked so hard to keep the boy from realizing just how powerful he was until he gained more control over himself. The Force embraced Anakin like a lover; it gathered around him and longed to do his bidding. He could do things instinctively that others struggled years to master. Obi-Wan had not yet found a single limitation on what his Padawan could learn to do with the Force, given enough time and training.

"Can you imagine what that feels like to her?" He went on. " And can you imagine the effect it has on her biological functioning?"

Anakin suffered a sudden, terrible memory of the etheric cuts he had experienced from Wolan's magic-killing Balaan sword. It was the break in the energy field, the sudden absence of the Force that had caused the pain.

Padmé, he thought. Padmé, with whom he let down all of his mental shielding, all of his defenses. Who could now often sense his presence before she could see him. With whom he could communicate wordlessly.

She was suffering. And it was his fault.

The shadow began to rise into his throat. Before it closed completely, he managed to gasp out, "You're saying that I'm hurting her. I'm hurting her just by being with her."

Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to give Anakin support but encountered only chaos. There was anguish in his Padawan's voice.

"If she is showing increased Force sensitivity, that means her body is trying to adjust and beginning to hold on to some of that higher-level energy. But let's face it, Anakin, even some Jedi need to remain shielded around you now that you have reached your current level of proficiency. I can't imagine that a completely untrained person could ever develop the required levels of protection."

Anakin began to weep openly. Obi-Wan found himself overwhelmed by compassion, but there was nothing he could do to soften the blow.

"I don't believe you," Anakin sobbed between clenched teeth. "It's not true."

"I don't lie," said Obi-Wan quietly. "I never lie."

"But you could be wrong." Anakin wasn't about to give up. "It could be something else. How would you know, anyway? Have you ever had an ... attachment?"

"I have been much more careful than you," Obi-Wan said, just as quietly. In the next instant he was grateful that he had not completely lowered his defenses, because Anakin had activated his weapon and began to attack him with a power that was fueled by despair.

"It's not true!" Anakin shouted, slashing viciously. "I wouldn't hurt her!"

Obi-Wan kept him at bay without attacking, letting him burn out his rage as much as he needed to. Anakin's furious attack took them all over the meadow leaving deep slashes in the earth that had been meant for his Master. Obi-Wan fought mindfully, carefully conserving his energy. He was beginning to wonder just how long he would have to hold out when Anakin's savagery finally began to subside.

The Jedi Master risked disengaging his light saber. The Padawan hesitated, and then deactivated his as well.

"If you don't believe me," Obi-Wan said, bent over, panting, and bracing his knees with his hands to prevent them from buckling, "then decide for yourself. Go and see her. Think about what I have said. Then come back to me and we will talk more."

Anakin stood poised on a knife-edge, heaving for breath, looking from the cylinder in his hand to his Master. There were still fresh tears on his face.

And then he turned and ran. He ran back toward the Palace and back toward Padmé as if he could outrun the black shadow that was now clutching his soul.

* * * * *

When his Padawan was no longer in sight Obi-Wan sank down to his knees and lifted his face to the sky. Alone in the wide, scarred meadow surrounded by waving shades of green and gold, he offered everything he could find inside himself to the Force: sorrow and tenderness; doubt; worry; and even the nameless dark dread that had been haunting him since Anakin left their home in the Temple. The dread that had impelled him to follow his Padawan at all costs. Emptied, he breathed in the living energy of the planetary Force stream that had absorbed his own Master ten years before. Since his return to Naboo Obi-Wan took comfort in imagining that Qui-Gon's essence was still out here somewhere.

What had his Master imagined he was going to do with the boy? If he had left him alone on Tatooine Anakin would probably be living a happy and successful life as ... a pod racer. Smuggler. Gambler. Gifted mechanic. Even leader of a slave rebellion. He would have succeeded at any opportunities his world offered. He might have kept his mother. And he probably would have been content.

And there would not have been this dread.

Instead, without proof that he was in fact the Chosen One, and against the Council's wisdom, he had been torn from his home. Trained in the Jedi arts. And now he was afraid. And unhappy. And powerful. And dangerous.

The boy didn't know who he was or where he belonged.

Taking deep and rhythmic breaths Obi-Wan called out to his old Master with his entire being.

We did this to him, Master. We trained him. We honed him into a weapon.

A breeze played around Obi-Wan's face, answering.

He is the Chosen One. He has a destiny to fulfill.

We have hurt him and he will hurt others.

It doesn't have to be that way. He has great capacity for love and good.

How can he remain on the right path if even the Jedi cannot keep him there?

His path is freedom. He must choose the right way.

What if he cannot? Every day I see him struggle and fail.

Then see him succeeding. He will choose rightly.

But at what cost?

There was no answer.

AT WHAT COST?

There were no more answers in the wind.

Obi-Wan slowly stood up and headed back to Theed, resolved once and for all to use many means necessary to bring Anakin back home to the Temple. Before it was too late.

Chapter 19. Stratagems

The misty early morning had brightened into a warm and sunny day, but when Anakin found Padmé in her apartment she was curled up on the window seat wrapped in her favorite dark brown cloak. She was very surprised to see him. Over the few precious days they had spent together on Padmé's world they had already fallen into a pleasurable routine of spending evenings and nights together and going their separate ways during the day so Padmé could work.

It had been idyllic.

But here he was now in the middle of the morning. And Padmé wasn't working. She was huddled in her cloak.

Padmé took a long look at him when he appeared at her side.

"The last time I saw you, you were going out to meditate. I didn't know it was such a dangerous activity."

"What? Oh." He had completely forgotten how he must look - sweaty, disheveled, and with two fresh injuries. The tears had dried on the run. He gave his face a desultory wipe.

"I was sparring with Obi-Wan." Only a small part of Anakin's mind was engaged with the conversation. Most of his attention was given over to searching her energy fields and paying close attention to the effect he was having on them.

She had no way of knowing how long he had stood outside of her door, torn between running to her to reassure himself that she was all right, and hesitating because he might hurt her. After a long, heart-wrenching struggle he locked down his mental shielding as much as he was able, and forced himself to go in with a completely neutral demeanor. The effort was costing him a great deal.

Padmé smiled. "Does he look as bad as you do?" She was glad Obi-Wan was finding ways back through to Anakin.

"No." Anakin sat down on the window seat nearby but made sure he wasn't touching her. "He hasn't got a hair out of place."

Padmé laughed, although it didn't stop her from looking tired and drawn. The way she was huddled in her cloak spoke of pain, although he did not dare to let out a single tendril of the Force to find out for certain. He took a deep breath, and could not prevent it shuddering.

"What's wrong?" Padmé felt him holding himself back. Usually his mere presence filled a room like sunshine. Today he seemed muted and somehow contained.

"I heard that you are ill," he finally ventured. "Really ill."

"Who told you?" She said, thinking of a number of Handmaidens with whom she would have words as soon as she felt up to it. "I'll have her head."

"But why?" Anakin was genuinely taken aback. "Why wouldn't you tell me? You always seem all right when I am with you."

"I always am all right with you." She shrugged. "It's fine. The doctor has been to see me. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Anakin was torn. With one touch he could make her feel better. But afterward...

He looked at her, seeing her with his heart rather than his eyes. Since the day she had appeared back in his life he had been faced with one agonizing choice after another: Love or duty. Go or stay. Save Padmé or save Balé. In every case he had struggled to change the terms of the choice so he could have both.

He didn't intend to give up now.

"Padmé," he blurted out, "I need to know whether you have experienced any changes since we - since we have been together."

"Changes?" The amused disbelief on her face spoke volumes. "One or two," she finally said with delicate irony. "I could begin with a story of forbidden love..."

With a little more control Anakin said, "I mean more subtle changes - changes in your perceptions, or awareness, or dreams. Anything like that?"

Yes, oh yes. All the time.

Aloud, she said, "Well, for one thing, I seem to be able to talk to you in my head. That would be all right, but then you answer." He his eyes held hers with longing, but he said nothing. "I have noticed that I'm more aware of things around me.

"Do you notice it when I am not around?"

She shot a glance at him. He was focused. Intense. Listening. Tell him about the waking dreams. "Actually, yes. I don't know how to describe it. My senses are sharper. You know - tastes. Sounds. Colors." Anakin nodded, acknowledging what she was saying. Encouraged that she was being taken seriously, she ventured further. " I get - the most remarkable images."

He let out a breath, as though he had been holding it.

"Are they like... like visions?"

Padmé looked at him in complete surprise. "You know about this?"

He finally smiled, a bit wryly. "We are taught that dreams - well, dreams are a kind of doorway to the Force. We learn to use them to find patterns, even to communicate." He swallowed. "We're trained to dream deliberately, not accidentally. That's why we say that Jedi don't dream." He looked sideways at her. "You could call it a kind of vision."

"But you dreamt that your mother was suffering." Padmé looked at him with love and sympathy.

"I know. But I wasn't supposed to." He took another deep breath, looking into some unknowable distance. "Things don't happen to me the way they're supposed to."

Something has happened. Padmé thought. Something that he is reluctant to tell me about.

"Are you implying that all these things are happening to me because... because of you?"

The look of misery on his face seemed all out of proportion to the conversation. To her surprise he jumped up and began to prowl the room like a caged animal.

"I can't believe I didn't see it coming."

Padmé's fell silent. He seemed to think that she was in danger of some kind. It was the only explanation for his behavior. She had an inner impression as if a wind were rising around her, moving everything and changing all the fixed points in her life. It's all shifting, she thought, everything that is known, familiar, and safe. Anakin seemed caught up in it as he paced the room, head down, radiating silent fury.

Padmé realized with a shock that she was afraid, but not for herself. She was afraid for him. If he thought she was in danger, and that it was somehow his fault, there was no telling what he would do. She had a momentary image - like a waking dream - of powerful currents pulling Anakin away from her, and the brief vision left her feeling powerless and bereft. She got up from the window seat and went to him to put her arms around him.

He surprised her again by backing away from her.

"Something has happened since I saw you last," she said, beginning to feel very uneasy. "What is it?" Anakin kept his distance.

"Padmé, listen to me. I want you to trust me." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I promise I will explain what I think is happening soon, but right now I need to spend the next two days with you away from here, preferably out in the wilderness."

"What? Now? Why?"

"Listen," he said, actively not touching her. "You are developing a strong connection with the Force - probably through me, but I don't really know. Without training, that makes you vulnerable for - well, vulnerable." He frowned, not liking his own choice of words. He was trying not to frighten her.

What? What is he talking about?

"I'd like to teach you some things that might help you cope with it," he finished lamely.

"Are you telling me that you want to train me as a Jedi in two days?" In spite of himself, Anakin smiled a little. Now that he planned some action, he had lost some of his dangerous edge.

"If I only could. But I can teach you some mind blocks and some techniques that will help you to control what happens a bit more."

Padmé thought about it, puzzled. She hadn't thought that it needed coping with.

"So why the wilderness?"

"The Force is strong in nature. Where it has not been corrupted, nature can be a powerful ally in learning the ways of the Force."

Padmé smiled. "You sounded just like Obi-Wan then."

Anakin sighed. "I have my own ways of teaching," he said. "Let's just go. Now."

Before something happens? Padmé thought. But she never once considered not trusting him, not going away with him. Maybe she just wanted the extraordinary pleasure of his company for two uninterrupted days. She sighed. "You had better disappear for a while I make the arrangements."

"Hurry," Anakin said, backing toward the door. Then he turned and fled.

* * * * *

"No!" Sabé was livid. "She can't just have disappeared."

Dormé handed her a memorandum. "This was just sent out through all the usual channels. I only picked it up because the Queen's office called demanding an explanation. Imagine my embarrassment at not being informed of my own Mistress' plans."

Sabé snatched it and read it through quickly. "This is a lie," she said. "There is no such meeting. I'm almost sure of it." She read it again. "Two days?" Where is she going for two days without any of us...?" She looked up suddenly. "He's gone, too, isn't he?"

"It is almost impossible to tell," Dormé said, "but no one has seen him today. Not even Balé."

Sabé thought for a moment and then said, "Wardrobe check." The two handmaidens sprinted toward the Senator's apartment and began systematically to look through her wardrobe and belongings for missing items that might give them a clue to their Mistress' whereabouts.

"What is she doing?" Dormé worried out loud. "She is too ill to be running around somewhere."

Almost nothing was missing. The entire luggage was in its place. They consulted the detailed lists that were always kept and checked them against the items in the wardrobes.

"Sleeping sack?" Sabé finally said, puzzled. "Walking boots? Rain gear? They are all missing."

Dormé looked up in dismay. "Are you telling me she set up a clumsy meeting decoy to go camping? Now? Why would she do that?"

Sabé thought fast. "This means absolutely no one else on staff is involved. Any one of us could have come up with a better cover story!"

Dormé reached for the COM link and spoke to Captain Typho briefly. He was not aware of any changes in the Senator's itinerary but offered to verify the movements of all the official transports immediately.

Sabé reached for the link when she was done and put through a call to a certain guesthouse near the Spaceport. Master Kenobi had of course been offered accommodation in the Palace, but had declined for reasons of his own. He was not in.

"She has no right to do this," Sabé growled. "She has no right to change everything. I'm going to find her if it's the last thing I do."

* * * * *

It was mid-afternoon before a still-furious Sabé was able to locate the Jedi Master and inform him that Senator Amidala had ostensibly left for an emergency meeting on the other side of Naboo for two days, and that she had gone unaccompanied except for his Padawan. Then she explained about the camping gear.

It was too late to stop them. They were long gone by now. He has slipped though my grasp again. Obi -Wan thought with real annoyance. But this is the last time.

"There is no logic to this," he said to his companion.

Tec Andros looked thoughtfully out the window of Obi-Wan's room toward the Spaceport. He was wearing the dress uniform of a mid-level officer in the Republican Army, but his light saber was securely clipped to his belt under the tunic-length jacket. It was necessary to continue to give the impression that there was only one Jedi on Naboo.

"Now are you ready to act more aggressively?" Tec asked, still sorting out the known facts in his incisive and highly experienced mind.

"I have given him every opportunity," Obi-Wan said. "He has run out of chances to make the right decision on his own."

"Good." Tec followed a particular train of thought to its conclusion and turned around.

"I think he is trying to train her," he said. "I think he is trying to change the existing parameters to fit the outcome he wants." He smiled briefly. "It is an approach I have seen him use before."

"I'm glad you're here, Tec. This thing has gotten completely out of hand."

"I serve," Tec said briefly. "Between the two of us he won't get far." Some Padawan, he thought, to require two Jedi Knights to haul him home. The boy was trouble the likes of which he had never seen.

Obi-Wan sighed deeply. He had really wanted to avoid this.

"What's our next priority?" he asked.

"I'm certain the palace staff are doing everything in their power to locate the Senator," Tec said. "For the time being, let's turn our attention back to our D'laian friends." He looked out the window again. "Let's take a walk. And while we are walking you can tell me everything you know about the impression left by the Sith."

Obi-Wan agreed readily. Tec's strategy was right. Anakin's disappearance, however ill advised, gave them their best opportunity to draw out the assassins. He didn't mind being used as bait if Tec had his back. There were few shrewder or fiercer fighters in the Galaxy. The two Jedi Knights headed out into the streets of occupied Theed, confident that their combined skills were more than enough to handle whatever trouble lay ahead.

Chapter 20. Lessons

The forest was so dense and the trees around the small clearing loomed so high that the darkness seemed to swallow up the light from the warm, bright campfire. Padmé lay on her back, working out which stars she could actually identify between the jagged crowns of the trees. By rights she ought to be exhausted, but her mind felt as clear as still water. She kept her eyes on the stars straight above her while allowing her senses to register information about her surroundings.

To her right was the warm, lively fire. To her left, behind the rim of tree trunks and thick underbrush, several living things were moving and snuffling at ground level. Under her head Anakin's thigh muscles flexed as he leaned forward to add more fuel to the fire. The edge of his cloak against her cheek felt thick and dense in contrast to the thin, temperature-responsive synthetic fabrics she wore. Beyond the fire - what was beyond the fire on the other side of the clearing? She couldn't make her conscious awareness reach past the dancing flames.

She reached up and tugged at the cloak. "How do you reach beyond the fire to sense what's behind it?"

"I thought you would be fed up with this by now." Anakin's left hand found hers, and their fingers interlaced. He had long since given up keeping away from her. His new strategy was quite the opposite.

"It's - compelling." She didn't know how describe how it felt to see the world through completely different eyes. "It is as though you gave me new lenses that can see in, around and through things. " She thought again, and then said dreamily, "It is as though I have been shown a spectrum of brand new colors, and I am trying to figure out what to call them."

She held her unattached hand up in front of her eyes and studied it. Beyond the outlines of her hand she saw a sheath of light. She wiggled her fingers and the light danced, but always remained close to her hand. She looked beyond her hand to the tops of the trees. They too were surrounded by a kind of light, although it looked different - darker, greener, quieter. She held up the hand that was entwined with Anakin's and watched the light sheaths surrounding all ten fingers blend and yet remain distinct. Hers and Anakin's looked different as well - the light around his was significantly brighter, the sheath bigger. It didn't surprise her.

"The fire," she prompted. "How do I see beyond it?"

"See the fire first," he said. "Then find a way to do away with it in your mind's eye. Fade it out; turn it down; make it transparent, or whatever makes sense to you. Just decide that it will disappear. Then keep looking to see the backdrop."

He removed his fingers from hers and waited to see what would happen. Padmé turned her head to the side and gazed into the fire. She took it in as clearly as she could and created a mental image of it as he had taught her earlier in the day. Then she tried to make it vanish. At first, nothing happened. Then slowly she managed to make the image fade a bit. She strove to see behind it and thought she saw the trunks of the trees whose tops were visible above the fire. But then she became unsure that she was actually seeing anything. The fire jumped into her mental picture again and became brighter.

"I don't really know," she said. "I think I'm guessing."

Anakin took her hand in his again. "Try again now."

Padmé looked again. The bright fire vanished to her sight as though it had suddenly been blown out, and she looked through the resulting gloom toward the densely packed tree trunks on the other side of the clearing. Between many of them were pairs of glowing pinpoints of light. Suddenly, she realized what they were, and sat up suddenly in alarm. "Animals! A whole ring of them - surrounding us!" She looked again, and saw only the fire.

Anakin laughed. "Very good," he said. "There are some behind us on this side, too."

Involuntarily Padmé looked behind her, and thought seriously about climbing into Anakin's lap. Dignity prevailed, and she remained where she was.

He looked down at her. "They have been there since dark. Think of them as the perimeter guards." I suppose that was your doing as well. Padmé was developing an even healthier respect for the abilities of a trained Jedi. And this one was still a Padawan learner.

"I saw the fire go down completely, " Padmé said thoughtfully, "but the fact that their eyes were reflecting so brightly means that it was really there all of the time."

"Of course it was. You were just choosing not to see it for the moment so that you could see something else."

"Actually, Anakin," she sighed, settling back down into the general vicinity of his lap, "I think you chose not to see it. For both of us. Like you have been doing all day. When you add your abilities to mine, I can do anything."

"Well," he was a bit defensive; "you have come a long way already."

"Surely this isn't the way you were taught." Padmé put both hands up again to play with the light sheaths around her fingers.

"Oh, no." Anakin laughed ruefully. "The proper way is to spend years training in these techniques. No help is ever given. The only way to truly master the Force is to allow the abilities to grow from inside. It takes time." And we don't have time. The unspoken thought hung in the air between them. As an afterthought he added, "Obi-Wan wouldn't just kill me for doing this. He would have me kicked out of the Jedi order without a hearing."

Padmé tilted her head all the way back so she could look at him, albeit upside down. Her gaze met his. "Tell me again why I have canceled all my obligations to follow you around the wilds like this allowing you to well, to force-feed me the Force!"

"You like me," he said.

"Hah," she said indignantly. She reached back and thumped him with her illuminated hand.

"Seriously." Padmé took his hand in hers again, unwilling to let go of it for long. "What are we doing with this? What are you trying to accomplish?"

"I only want two things." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "For now. I want to teach you to trust your feelings. If I show you what your awareness can be like, what the world looks like to the trained eye, then I'm hoping you won't doubt or second-guess your perceptions. I'm hoping that if you learn to trust your feelings and perceptions they might begin to feel normal and natural to you. It might make a difference."

It might make a difference in what? She decided to reserve the question for later.

"And the second thing?"

"Tomorrow we work on mind blocks and ways of protecting yourself."

From what? That one, too.

"And now?"

"And now I think you have had more than enough of this. " He reached over to the bundle he had been carrying all day and pulled out the capsule that contained the kind of shelter and sleeping sack suitable for a Senator of the Republic. He himself was content to wrap himself in his cloak on the ground.

"Not yet." Padmé sat up and unceremoniously climbed into his lap after all, sitting astride him so they were nose to nose.

She waited. To her surprise, instead of taking her up on her unspoken invitation, Anakin sat quietly, with his living hand idly tracing the line on her back that he knew still held the long thin scar from the beast in the Geonosian arena. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"This is all my fault. I was too blind to see it."

"Perhaps it is time you told me what has happened. What are you afraid of?"

Anakin wrapped his arms around her, as though trying to shield her from his words. "I'm afraid that you are in danger. Real danger."

Padmé groaned. "Not again. Who do you think it is?" There was a long, dark pause, while Anakin chose his words with exceptional care. Padmé waited quietly while enjoying the pleasure of being held. She believed herself prepared for any answer he could give her. When it came, she found that she had been wrong.

"It's me. You are in the worst kind of danger from me."

* * * * *

When Lord Tyrannus taught the D'laian conspirators to kill Jedi he kept the method deliberately simple. The warriors were not, after all, complex people.

"First, lay a trap," he had said. "Use the Jedi's compassion against them."

Night had fallen by the time Obi-Wan and Tec had completed their purposeful walk around the City of Theed. Obi-Wan had been seen everywhere. They had spent a good deal of time in and around the spaceport district, around the Palace and in the Temple district. They stopped at a busy inn for dinner and then resolved to do one more circuit of the outlying areas near the spaceport. So far their senses had not indicated anything unusual.

They were on a narrow street lined with small taverns and guesthouses near the spaceport when they heard screams and the sound of blaster fire. As one, the two Jedi ran toward the disturbance. People were running out of a small tavern. Obi-Wan ignited his light saber and stepped inside. Remaining in disguise Tec lagged behind him, not yet touching his weapon.

Four men seemed to be armed with blasters. A robbery or a personal dispute, Obi-Wan thought, until he recognized the Force-signatures.

A trap, then, he corrected himself, unafraid. He relaxed, increasing his inner strength with each breath. The Force gathered to him, ready to be channeled by the slightest hint of will.

"Everyone out, " he said firmly. "Clear the room. Jedi business."

All but the armed men left. They waited, confirming Obi-Wan's assessment of the situation. He could feel Tec's presence just outside the door. Behind Tec in the street he could suddenly sense two more men in the shadows who might be part of this group. Tec will take care of them, he thought, turning his focus back to the group that was quickly moving to surround him.

"Make certain the one you seek to kill is alone," Lord Tyrannus had continued. "Make the first move - a Jedi will not. Attack aggressively. He will not expect it. The Jedi are accustomed to being approached with great caution."

They are attacking me using mere daggers, Obi-Wan realized as the four men assailed him swiftly and aggressively at the same time with blades, not blasters. What are they thinking? Why do they insist on fighting with a Jedi at close quarters? Waiting until the first dagger came close to his body he used the Force to deflect its momentum, unbalancing his assailant and throwing him back until he smashed into the bar. In a fluid motion Obi-Wan turned to stop the second assailant who had aimed a dagger at the middle of his spine. His light saber cut through the man's wrist, sending it and the dagger flying. This is absurd, he thought, stopping the third attacker with two swift passes of his light saber as the man threw himself toward his neck, blade outstretched.

The fourth attacker came at him from the side, not holding a dagger, but with a small oblong object with two prongs strapped to his hand.

Padawan! Beware!

Instantaneously Obi-Wan obeyed Qui-Gon's voice, as he had always done, and wrenched his body forward. It was only because of this movement that the prongs embedded themselves in his side and not straight into his heart. The Jedi Knight lost consciousness immediately as a series of synchronized harmonic sounds entered his chest.

"Your real weapon, of course," Lord Tyrannus had continued, "is this." He pushed a small gleaming box with two long prongs at one end toward the Warrior. "When activated, it will disrupt the Jedi's ability to use the Force and stop him instantly." He contemplated the object with some pride. Based on an ancient weapon he had personally unearthed from the D'Laian's sorcery-fearing history, he had re-designed it to be automatic rather than relying on the skill of the user. These assassins would be the first non Force-sensitive fighters to test it. And what better subject for the test than his great enemy, that too-powerful Jedi Padawan?

The D'laian who had felled Obi-Wan was triumphant.

"Not so powerful after all, are you, Jedi?"

They were his dying words. Tec surged into the room as soon as he felt the disruption in the Force and cut down the assassin where he stood. As he did so he felt a violent jolt of pain and weakness. The box was still active. Gathering all of his will he cut it in half with his light saber, cutting through the hand to which it was still attached.

The entire attack had taken only seconds.

Tec stood back panting for a moment until he heard Obi-Wan moan. Rushing to him he found him barely alive, with severe Force disruptions throughout his body. Taking him into his arms Tec poured what energy he could into him, while shouting for help to the curious onlookers who were beginning to drift back into the tavern.

This isn't supposed to happen, Tec thought. This shouldn't be possible. A Jedi Knight like Obi-Wan should not die in this way.

He held his brother and friend in his arms on the grimy tavern floor and mourned while a strong breeze whirled through the stuffy tavern.

He will live, said Qui-Gon Jinn's voice through the Force. He will live.

Tec could not hear him.

* * * * *

Not so powerful after all, are you, Jedi?

Anakin awoke out of a thin and fragile sleep feeling that there had been a sudden wrenching disturbance in the Force. He could not attribute it but he had heard the words clearly.

It took him a moment to understand where he was.

Looking up he saw the dark tops of trees silhouetted against a slightly lighter sky and it all came back to him.

The fire was low but had not yet burned down to embers. He had not been asleep long. Padmé was curled up against him, breathing quietly. At least she was getting a little sorely needed peace after the stunned anguish Anakin's confession had caused her. He tried not to disturb her.

He wondered whether the words he had heard were meant for him. Their intent, their coloration seemed somehow familiar.

Padmé moved restlessly against him and he gently settled her tear-marked face more comfortably into the crook of his arm.

Not powerful enough? Or too powerful? Anakin wondered forlornly. What does it matter, if I am not allowed to love?

He settled back down into his cloak and stared into the darkness.

Chapter 21. The Gift

"Anakin, stop."

He looked behind him to find that Padmé had sunk to her knees on the stony slope they had been climbing for some time.

He went back and crouched down beside her.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" she asked looking straight into his eyes.

"No," he admitted. "I don't think so."

"Then let's just stop," she said softly. Grief was weighing on her so heavily that she could barely put one foot in front of the other. After a desperate night together in the forest clearing they had resolutely spent the day continuing Anakin's plan of trying to teach Padmé to use the Force to shield herself. A few simple experiments had made it clear that while she had learned a good deal, nothing would change the basic reality of their situation. For the last two hours, walking up the forested slopes of the Stonefoot Mountain, Padmé had begun to accept the truth.

She turned around to face the valley below and foothills and plains beyond. The setting sun cast long fingers of gold and red over the rolling landscape. Anakin sat down behind her and enfolded her in his arms.

"So this is the end." Padmé forced herself to say it out loud.

"I can't think of another way out," he conceded unhappily.

"Unless... unless you stay here. With me."

Anakin groaned. "You know I would, if it would help. You know I would. But it would be worse for you." They had been though this before. "You would very quickly lose your independence. If I go now you will recover, in time."

"So..." Padmé said, trying to form a picture of the rest of her life, "we go our separate ways. You return to the Temple and finish your training. I continue in the Senate. We inhabit the same Galaxy. We often live and work on Coruscant at the same time. But we never see each other again."

"It's either that," Anakin said grimly, "or we do see each other. But we never get really close. And I'm always heavily shielded around you."

It sounded like a vision of eternal darkness and misery.

"I can't imagine living like that," Padmé said.

"Neither can I."

As the sun moved closer to the horizon darkness gathered quickly.

"I don't know how to do this," she whispered after a while. She reached up and grasped his gloved right hand. "I envy this hand. It doesn't feel." Sorrow was like a stone weighing on her heart.

Anakin was struggling with his own demons. Denial and distraction usually kept them at bay. But he could no longer deny the truth. And worst of all, there seemed to be no comfort from his old friend, anger. There was no one to blame, except maybe himself, and all the rage in the world would not make things the way he wanted them to be. Unleashed, his demon voices rose to the surface and taunted him with his fears and his failings. There was nowhere to hide.

"Anakin," Padmé said after a while. "Let down the rest of your shielding. Please."

"I... I shouldn't. It's only going to be worse for you."

"One last time. I want to remember what it's like to be one, not two."

Anakin hesitated. He wanted to, but this was probably the worst part of the problem: this merging where the boundaries between them fell away.

"I want your soul," she said fiercely. "I want to know everything that is inside of you."

"All that pain?" he asked. "Is that what you want?"

"I just want you. All of you."

Anakin succumbed. He couldn't deny her anything. Slowly he let go of his mental shielding and allowed the Force to flow between them without barriers. He adjusted his breathing until the rhythm matched hers perfectly. Gradually he adjusted his heartbeat until their pulses were indistinguishable. More and more barriers opened. He released his mind and his feelings until they were experiencing each other's thoughts and emotions as their own. He let go. He let go. He let go.

He let go more than he ever had before.

Padmé willingly received everything he gave her. She took on his grief and his love and his drive to make everything better and his rage at being powerless. She let herself drown in his love and passion for her and rejoiced at his devotion to his mother, and Balé and Obi-Wan. She accepted his contradictions and judged nothing. She even faced off against his darkest demons - fear and loneliness. His fear was not difficult to face. It was much like her own - a desperate fear of losing her. Of failure. Of letting people down. Of not being good enough. These were fears Padmé understood well.

The hardest demon to face was his loneliness. She had never experienced it in such depth. She understood with crushing clarity that without her, he would have no one. No one at all.

For his part Anakin could only lose himself in her love for him. It was vast. It was pure. And it filled every empty space he had ever had inside.

After a time Anakin could feel Padmé's consciousness slipping away into a kind of meditative trance. It was an overwhelming experience for her and one she could not hold onto for long. He continued to hold her carefully, body and mind, acutely conscious of what it would feel like to her when he withdrew. And when he went away altogether.

Obi-Wan had been right. He could not protect her.

I have harmed her, he thought. The person I love most in the world. I have harmed her and I cannot keep her from more pain.

Why should she be the one to suffer? He would take all the pain on himself if he only could. If only the Force didn't follow him always.

Stay, he said to it. Stay with her.

The Force flowed and surged between them, knowing no boundaries. Making no distinctions.

Stay, he said again, willing the vague outline of an etheric boundary between himself and Padmé.

The flow of the Force changed, circling back to Padmé when it reached the barrier.

Intrigued, Anakin went exploring. He strengthened the boundary. It wavered. He began to shut down various energy points in his own body. With each one the flow pattern changed again, gradually remaining more and more within her and withdrawing from him.

Stay with her, he directed. I don't need you. Without her I don't need anything.

Encouraged by his initial success he continued to shut down and create barriers against the Force, damming it and closing it off and forcing it to flow and remain where he wished. He could feel the Force leaving him bit by bit, and gradually he began to lose his ability to work with it. He struggled to close down more access points and strengthen the barrier before he lost consciousness completely. He was deeply satisfied with his work.

Leave me, he ordered. Stay with her.

A stiff breeze arose on the mountainside, whirling around the two unconscious figures that lay in each other's arms, ruffling their clothing and whipping the leaves from the trees. Neither one responded to it.

Anakin found himself drifting. He couldn't remember where he was or what he was doing. He had a sense of urgency, but didn't know why.

Anakin. He heard a familiar voice.

Anakin, listen to me.

Master Jinn. Where are you?

Anakin. You have a job to do.

Why did you leave me, Master? I have missed you.

Anakin. There is a third way. Your job is to find the third way. The way of balance.

I don't know how, Master.

Go back to the Temple. Learn about the Living Force. It will show you your path.

I want to stay here with you, Master. Please.

Promise you will return to the Temple.

Anakin hesitated.

Promise!

I promise.

Anakin. Breathe!

I don't want to. I like it here.

Anakin! Take a breath! Now!

Anakin obeyed, as he had always obeyed Master Jinn, and immediately regretted it. It felt as though his lungs were filling with fire.

Breathe, Anakin! Keep breathing!

The pain was horrific. But he did it again. And again. Each one was worse than the last.

Master Jinn? May I stop now?

There was no answer. His lungs seemed to have developed a mind of their own and he could no longer stop breathing. He just had to endure it.

* * * * *

Padmé woke up feeling disoriented. It was completely dark and a bright moon had risen, casting everything around her in an eerie light. She felt stiff, and there was a cold, insistent breeze whirling around her face. It seemed to be the thing that had woken her up.

"Anakin?"

There was no answer. She reached for him and recoiled. He felt cold as ice.

Padmé threw herself on him, taking his face in her hands. His skin was cold and dry and he was unnaturally still. Her fingers slid down his face to his throat, searching for a pulse. There was none. She put her hands on his chest. There was no movement.

"Anakin!"

She tried shaking him, but there was no response. In the moonlight her golden boy looked gray and lifeless. She was horrified.

Padmé suddenly thought to look at her hands. She could see a bright golden sheath of light dancing around them. It was brighter than she had ever seen it before. A hideous thought made her dive for his hand and look for the sheath of light that had always been there. She could not see one.

Oh, Anakin, what have you done? She thought desperately as she tilted his head back and started giving him the kiss of life. She had no way of knowing how long he had gone without breathing.

You can't be dead, she thought frantically as she set up a rhythm to try to resuscitate him. I won't let you be!

She felt desperation set in when he still didn't respond after a few cycles. Anakin. Breathe! She thought furiously.

Then he gasped. It was an awful, painful sound. She kept going, and was rewarded with some more horrific gasps. Little by little his lungs took over. When it felt safe to let him breathe on his own she scrambled around for his cloak and her sleeping sack and wrapped him in them as best she could. He had a faint, irregular heartbeat and that horrible, ragged breathing but she couldn't seem to get him warmer. Desperately she wrapped herself around him under the covers to add her warmth to his. Only then did she notice that his breathing eased a bit and he warmed a little to her touch. She remained there, not daring to move, and not knowing how to get help.

* * * * *

"Two degrees north," Sabé shouted to Captain Typho over the noise of the hover ship. She clutched the data pad on which she had superimposed the readout from the infrared scan onto the night map. They weren't far.

"What are they doing here?" Typho yelled back to her. "This is Stonefoot Mountain."

Sabé had hesitated for a long time to enlighten the good Captain about his beloved mistress' Jedi-related activities. She was sure he couldn't handle knowing the truth. It would shatter his orderly world.

On the other hand, the whole situation had gone wildly out of control. Typho's help would be required in many ways. He had to know. It was better that he heard it from her than from someone else. What if they found them in a compromising situation on the mountain? The poor man would fall apart.

She explained it to him as best she could over the rhythmic pounding of the engine. Typho was appalled.

Separately, they both imagined how furious Padmé would be that they had tracked her down.

"There!" Sabé shouted and the Captain's stunned attention had to be diverted to finding a suitable landing site. It was difficult, even though they were using one of the smaller hover ships.

Whatever Sabé had expected to find, reality bore no resemblance to it. As soon as the hover ship landed Padmé ran to it like a wild woman. Instead of being angry at having been tracked and found she was desperately relieved. "Get on the COM! She shouted. "Alert the medical center that we are bringing in an emergency!"

"Now come here and help me!" she ordered when the call had been made.

It took the efforts of the Captain and both women to carry Anakin's all but lifeless form across the stony terrain and load it onto the hover ship. The entire time Padmé said nothing to either Sabé or Captain Typho unless she was giving an order. Neither one could come up with a plausible explanation of what had happened. Nor was one forthcoming.

"Go," ordered Padmé when they were all on board. "Best speed." Sabé helped her mistress wrap Anakin in all the available blankets, and then sat back while Padmé arranged herself beside him and held his hand between her own two.

Padmé didn't say a word to her the entire journey. Sabé didn't press her. Anakin looked and sounded like death itself. The Captain thought it best to keep his mind completely on his work.

Everything has changed, Sabé thought, looking at her Mistress' anguished face. Nothing will ever be the same again. All the way home she wondered what would happen to them all now.

* * * * *

Master Yoda opened his eyes wide, certain of what he had seen but astounded that it was possible.

He sent out a powerful message through the Force calling the Council together. Its urgency was so great that throughout the Temple and elsewhere in Coruscant eleven Jedi lurched into awareness and practically fell over themselves to arrive at the Council chamber as quickly as possible.

In a remarkably short period of time the entire Council had assembled. All eyes turned to Master Yoda.

"Successfully performed a Life-Force transference, Padawan Skywalker has," he said without introduction.

There was a stunned silence in the Chamber.

"You know this?" Mace Windu asked.

"I know this," Master Yoda said firmly. That was enough evidence for all the Council members.

"He is dead, then," said Ki-Adi-Mundi.

"He lives still," countered Yoda. "Barely, but he lives."

Eleven Council members practically stopped breathing with shock. There was a long silence while they each tried to absorb the information in their own way.

"Who is the recipient?" Mace Windu finally asked.

"Senator Amidala of Naboo," said Yoda, gravely.

A murmur rippled around the chamber.

"Do we know why?" Mace persisted.

The ancient Master closed his eyes for a while. "Clouded, the reasons are."

"He must be the Chosen One," declared Ki-Adi-Mundi. The Life-Force transference has only been performed three times in Jedi history. And each time it claimed the life of the giver."

"Yet he lives," said Master Yoda. "He lives."

"Obi-Wan must bring him to us immediately."

Mace Windu spoke up. "Obi-Wan Kenobi lies severely injured as a result of an attack meant for Skywalker. An attack that bears the hallmark of the Sith." He paused before adding the next piece of information." A new kind of harmonic Force-disruptor was used in the attack."

"Know what Skywalker is, do the Sith," Yoda concluded grimly. "Great danger for him. Great danger for us all."

The Jedi Council chamber filled with a deep silence as each Council member reflected on the profound implications of the news.

"The winds of change are rising," Master Windu said finally.

Then set sail, said Qui-Gon Jinn from within the Force. Set sail.

Only Master Yoda heard him.

Chapter 22. Promises

So this was the woman.

Tech Andros observed her with interest as she introduced herself and stated her business. A Senator and former Queen. One would think that she would behave more responsibly and take more care with her reputation. Of course she wanted to know the status of Kenobi and the Padawan. He explained what he could in layman's terms. Kenobi would recover, in time. The Padawan's status was uncertain. Only Jedi healers would be able to determine the long-term effects of his actions.

He was most interested in her Force presence. It was indeed strong, although of course undefined. She was after all untrained. But the signature was definitely hers. The boy had really done it. Whatever he had given her had become her own. Tec was fascinated.

"Master Andros," Padmé was saying, "the medical staff is under orders not to allow Master Kenobi or Anakin to receive visitors. They tell me that those orders came from you. I would like to see them."

Tec turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

"I don't think it is a good idea, Senator," he said coolly. "They are both very weak and require uninterrupted rest."

"Surely you can make an exception for me."

Tec thought she was the last person for whom one should make an exception.

"When Master Kenobi is stronger and asks to see you I will of course make the arrangements. But the Padawan is being removed to Coruscant as soon as possible. I'm afraid there won't be an opportunity for you to see him."

Padmé felt her blood start to pound in her throat. "Not even to say goodbye?"

"No, Senator," Tec said firmly. "Not even to say goodbye."

The pounding moved up to Padmé's temples.

He doesn't know whom he is dealing with, she thought.

"Very well," she said mildly enough, considering the depth of her fury. "I will not bother you again."

Tec was surprised that she had given in so easily. That was not her reputation. He resolved to watch her carefully.

Padmé turned to leave without another word.

"Senator!" Tec called, before she had reached the door. "When you are in Coruscant we will need you to come to the Temple for evaluation. The healers must study the effects of the Padawan's... action... on you."

Padmé turned around.

"You are asking for my cooperation."

"Yes."

"In return for none of your own."

Tec was taken aback. "Be reasonable, Senator. Haven't you done enough damage already?"

Padmé turned on her heel and left him without a backward glance.

* * * * *

Anakin woke up the moment he heard Padmé's voice.

"Get out, all of you," she was saying. "Now."

"But My Lady," someone protested, "No visitors are allowed in here except Master Andros."

"Clear the room. Now." Padmé said in a tone that brooked no argument. Anakin could not see that she had brought a contingent of the Queen's Own Guard, in full dress uniform. "Queen's business!" Through a haze of pain he heard the sound of scuffling and of heavy boots. "Guard this door and don't let anyone in until I come out. Especially Master Andros." A door closed.

Anakin's face didn't respond very well but he smiled inside.

He loved it when she got fierce.

Her hand touched him and his vision cleared enough to see her.

"Padmé," he tried. Nothing much came out. "Padmé," he tried again, and his breath managed to carry the sound of her name.

"You look better," she said softly, all her fierceness gone. Anything was better than the corpse on the mountainside.

"...Love you," Anakin managed, after a struggle. He was far too tired to attempt to say anything that wasn't very, very important.

"I know." How could she not know? Master Andros' brief explanation of what had happened to Anakin had made it clear enough what he had given up for her. No one knew what the long-term effects of his actions would be. He might well have relinquished his ability to use the Force.

But he was alive, and seemed to be improving a little. That was all that mattered to her.

Padmé stroked his forehead and found that his skin was clammy and cold. She tucked the blankets around him more securely and found his hand. Anakin's fingers tried to grasp hers and failed. She wrapped hers around them firmly.

He felt so much better in her presence. The pain was beginning to subside a bit.

"How is... Master Obi?" he asked after a while. That was important, too. He had only been informed of his Master's condition a short time ago.

"He is better. Furious with you, of course. It was a Force-disruption, so he probably feels as bad as you do. But it wasn't as... damaging... as what you did." She stopped to fight back tears. "Master Andros only leaves his side to come see you." Or to put me in my place.

Anakin had a dim memory of a shadowy figure that might have been Master Andros hovering over him. He associated it with warm, wonderful energy surging throughout his body. He must remember to thank him.

He was beginning to feel rather warm and wonderful now, too. For a while he enjoyed floating in her presence.

"Anakin, can you hear me?"

"Yes." He tried again. "Yes."

"Anakin, you gave me a gift. A gift I don't really understand. But whatever you gave me... I'm well now. It's staying with me." Well was an understatement. She was vibrantly healthy. She had boundless energy. It was a tiny glimpse of what it must have been like to be Anakin.

He was glad.

"Anakin, I want to give you something in return."

Give? He tried to focus. What was she talking about? He had done harm. Had to help.

Silly.

"Anakin?"

There was a pause while he drifted back. "Here."

"I want to give you something. I want you to come away with me for two days. Just two days."

It all came flooding back to him. His pledge. His promise to Master Jinn.

He was silent for a long time.

When Padmé looked at him more closely she saw that his face was soaking wet. Wet with tears that he was too weak to wipe away. She quickly looked around for a cloth to wipe his face before he drowned.

"I... I have to... leave here. I promised... Master."

"I know," Padmé said, assuming he was talking about Obi-Wan. "I know you have to go. I just want two days. After that I won't interfere with what you have to do. I promise." Despite recent events, Padmé still understood duty well. Besides, she wanted to be sure that he received all the healing the Jedi could give him.

"Anakin, I love you," he heard her say.

He felt torn in pieces.

"Padmé. Hold me," he asked, shivering.

He felt her slide under the blankets and wrap herself around him. He started to feel warmer and happier immediately. The Force is strong with her, he thought briefly, having momentarily forgotten just why that might be the case.

Padmé held him as though she could stop him from ever disappearing again.

Sabé had been right, of course. With her usual sharp perception she had understood that everything had changed for her mistress that night on the mountain. Everything that Padmé had thought and felt since then had been colored by the memory of her wild grief when she thought that Anakin was gone.

Who was this strange, mercurial, passionate, gifted boy who loved her unconditionally and had laid siege to her from the first moment he saw her?

How long had it been since he had reappeared in her life? Hardly any time at all. And during that time she had hesitated and pushed him away and doubted him and herself and acted as though they had all the time in the world. And all because she had been afraid to follow him down a new path.

And then she had lost him, only to get another chance.

And now the Jedi were claiming him back.

She could not endure losing him again. She would not allow it.

"Anakin," she said, her breath warm on his cheek, "I think we should get married."

If he hadn't been lying down already he would have fallen over. There was a long silence while he struggled to understand.

"Married?" He tried out the word. She had his full attention.

"No one needs to know. In fact, no one should know. Not my staff. Not Obi-Wan. No one." This is how far I've come, Padmé acknowledged inwardly.

Anakin shifted unhappily. "I... have to go."

"I know. But think. If we get married, you can still go. But we won't be apart. Not really." Padmé pulled herself up on her elbow so she could look into his eyes. "You'll have a home. Someone to come back to. You'll have me."

Anakin swallowed, wishing he had the strength to reach up and touch her. "You are... my home."

Padmé smiled. "I know. It's so clear. We'll get married. And no matter what happens, they'll never be able to separate us."

It was so simple, once he understood what she was proposing. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. Hope started to dawn in him, and swiftly grew brighter.

Still... he wondered.

He searched her face.

"You... want me?"

Padmé knew exactly what he was asking. Do you want me like this?

"You're mine," she said, possessively tracing the lines of his face with her fingers. Smoothing his hair. Straightening his braid. Some of the fierceness had crept back into her voice. "You belong to me. I will not let you go."

It was enough to reassure him. He had heard that tone of voice before.

"Married," Anakin said again. He pictured it. Having her. Belonging. His heart was filling up with sunshine.

After a while another thought floated into the bright picture.

"Balé?"

Padmé kissed him gently, making him shiver all over again. "You'll have to help me raise her."

Family. The sun in Anakin's heart became hot enough to melt ice.

"This is... your gift?" He finally grasped it.

"This is why I need two days."

Anakin pictured Obi-Wan's response to a request for more time together.

"Master... won't... let."

"It doesn't matter," said Padmé. "We will find a way."

"Married." Anakin said for the third and last time, burning brightly with something that felt like pure joy. "Yes."

The sound of voices outside the door made Padmé slip out from under the covers and back into her chair. Anakin sighed and shifted, trying to find the warmth she had taken with her.

The door opened and Master Andros entered the room like a dark cloud. The Queen's Own must be weak-minded after all.

Padmé smiled at him from her chair.

"He looks better, doesn't he, Master Andros? It is comforting to know that he is receiving such good care."

"I think this visit is over," said Tec shortly. "He needs his rest."

Padmé stood up gracefully, bent over Anakin and said; "I'll see you soon."

Without another glance at the scowling Jedi Knight she brushed past him and left the room.

Chapter 23. Confrontations

In many ways Anakin's recovery was nothing short of remarkable. One day he had been, for all intents and purposes, dead. The next he was drifting in and out of consciousness. On the third day he could more or less sit up.

Master Andros appeared at Anakin's bedside and had a good look at him. Anakin managed to hold his gaze fairly steadily.

"Right," said Master Andros. "You'll do. Master Kenobi wants you."

Anakin found himself bundled up, carried to the next room and dumped, not too gently, onto the chair by Obi-Wan's bed. He struggled to remain upright.

The Force certainly was strong with Master Andros. Anakin had an overwhelming urge to behave.

Obi-Wan looked stronger, too. He was sitting up in bed with his arms crossed. Anakin had the feeling that he might be in trouble again, and wondered generally how he could have managed to trespass while confined to his bed in a semi-conscious state. Lost somewhere between pain and bliss he had forgotten that most of his recent behavior did not in any way fall within the boundaries of what was expected of a Jedi Padawan learner.

"Hello, Master," he said affably. "I'm glad to see you're better."

Suspicious of Anakin's good humor, Obi-Wan looked at him appraisingly. "Why do you want to delay your departure for two days?" He confined himself to the issue at hand. He couldn't even begin to deal with what Anakin had done on the mountain.

Anakin couldn't remember having made the request, but he tried to rise to the occasion. Everything seemed a bit beyond his grasp lately, but even in his weakened state he understood how important it was that the marriage remain secret.

"I want to say goodbye," he said.

"You can do that here. Now."

Anakin tried to think while his head felt has though it was being pounded with something hard.

"I need to get stronger, " he tried.

Master Andros laughed out loud. "I can throw you over my shoulder and take you to our ship right now, he said. "You're fine to travel."

He had a point.

Anakin was grappling with the problem when Padmé stepped out of the shadows at the far corner of the room. He hadn't even realized she was there.

I have a long way to go, he thought.

"Master Kenobi," she said, using his formal title in the presence of another Jedi, "I know it's an unusual request, but I am formally asking you to grant Anakin two days' leave before he returns to Coruscant. He will be under my care and I will see to it personally that he arrives at his transport as scheduled."

"Why do you want two days?" Obi-Wan asked again. Perhaps she could give him a better answer than Anakin had.

"I owe Anakin a great debt," she said, trying not to stray too far into lies. "I would like to take my leave of him in a way that honors that. Please, Master Kenobi. This was my idea. I would like you to give him - us - two days. Then I won't interfere any more."

Tec Andros thought it was the most inappropriate request he had ever heard. Anakin's return to Coruscant was strictly Jedi business, and long overdue. The Senator had no jurisdiction, and her behavior had been as unacceptable as the Padawan's. She must not be allowed to have anything more to do with him.

"You have no right to ask that," he said bluntly to both of them.

Padmé lost her patience.

"What do you think this is?" she snapped, "A casual affair? Do you think that you can end it just by putting him on your ship and taking him away?" She gestured toward Anakin, who was beginning to enjoy himself. "Look at him! What do you think that was all about? Do you think he will forget all about me just because you wish it?"

"Not a chance," said Anakin helpfully.

"Obi-Wan glowered at him. Anakin smiled back genially. He wasn't at all afraid of his Master or of the Council now that they couldn't force him away from Padmé. She wanted him. He was going to marry her one way or another. For now he was taking great pleasure in watching his warrior bride at battle.

"Then how in the name of all that is rational will two days help?" Obi-Wan countered, his voice rising. He was losing his patience, too.

"It would give us an opportunity for a civilized leave-taking." Padmé shot back. "One that gives some credence to our needs as well as yours. Anakin may be accustomed to being treated like a rebellious child, but I am not. As far as I am concerned I do have a right to ask because this affects me as much as it does you, or Anakin, or the Order."

Padmé stepped forward and put her hand on Anakin's shoulder, laying claim to him, while the two Jedi Masters looked at her in uncompromising silence. Anakin glowed.

"I have said that I will see to it that he returns to his duties on schedule and that I will not interfere after that," she finished in the tone she reserved for particularly obstinate colleagues, "and I meant it."

Obi-Wan could feel shock waves of disapproval rolling off Tec. He contemplated his ruined Padawan and the passionate Senator. Their obvious continued connection was a problem. They weren't even trying to hide it.

"The Jedi Council is awaiting Anakin's immediate return," he said flatly.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Master Kenobi," demanded Padmé Amidala, Senator, former Queen of the Naboo, and the only living recipient of a Jedi Life-Force transference in the Galaxy, "show a little backbone and make a decision on your own!"

"That," thought Anakin with deepest satisfaction, "Is my wife." Well, almost.

"I do not doubt your sincerity or your word, Senator," Obi-Wan said, stung, "but there has been nothing in Anakin's recent behavior that would lead me to believe that I can trust that he will do as he says."

"I promised that I will return," said Anakin resolutely, "and I will."

By now Obi-Wan's outrage was beginning to rival Tec's. He glared at his Padawan.

But Anakin sat on his chair looking calm and....well... centered. There was nothing edgy or sullen or rebellious about him. He suffered from a tremor that Obi-Wan attributed to the effort of sitting upright but his gaze was straightforward and open. In fact, the suspicious part of Obi-Wan's mind told him that his Padawan looked too peaceful. He ought to be heartbroken right about now. Surely he understood that he couldn't see Padmé any more after this.

On the other hand, the boy clearly wasn't operating at full capacity. Until they got him back to the Temple there was no way of knowing how badly his mind had been damaged by his heedless use of the Force on the mountain. Obi-Wan thought sadly that this personality change of Anakin's was probably a bad sign.

Don't do it! Tec thought urgently, knowing that the decision was ultimately Obi-Wan's. Assert the authority of the Order now!

Obi-Wan understood far better than Tec that if he wasn't careful, there was a real danger that these two might vanish together and never be seen again. It was unwise to underestimate their attachment. Padmé Amidala certainly had the resources to make it happen. And if they did disappear, the Jedi Order would lose all control over the situation.

If Anakin came willingly there was a chance they could work with him. It was essential that they learn how he had accomplished and survived something that no other Jedi could. And he was so badly damaged that there was little likelihood of his going rogue any time soon. Until they got him back to the Temple there was no way of knowing whether Anakin would ever again be what he once was. But they had to be certain.

The Sith will still be looking for him Obi-Wan thought. The only place we can keep him safe is in the Temple. And the only way to keep the Order safe is to keep Anakin safe.

"Two days," Padmé said meaningfully. "It's a good offer."

There was a fraught pause during which Tec made use of calming techniques while Obi-Wan assessed the ultimatum he had just been given. Two days or no Anakin. She was putting her career and reputation on the line. No amount of political influence could save her from the wrath of the Jedi Order if she failed.

"Two days," he finally agreed, grimly. "But only because of your request and your personal guarantee, Senator. Surely I don't have to outline the consequences to you personally if this deadline is not met." To Anakin he said, with real menace, "If you don't turn up on schedule the entire Jedi Order will hunt you down."

"I'll be the first one to find you and finish what you started out on the mountain," Tec growled. He couldn't believe what Obi-Wan had just done.

Anakin felt a surge of white-hot anger that cut straight through the pain and chills.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing, Master," he said in a low and even tone. "I gave my word, and I will be responsible for keeping it. And I suggest you don't threaten Padmé that way again."

Her hand gently squeezing his shoulder was the only thing that stopped him from going further.

Blast, thought Obi-Wan. They are strong together. This isn't over. I think I made the wrong decision.

Tec would have agreed.

* * * * *

"Lord Tyrannus. Welcome back." The heavily cloaked figure waited until the Count came close and had bowed to him, and then indicated that they should walk. Count Dooku took care to fall into step with his Master as they slowly circled the abandoned hangar where they sometimes met.

"What news do you bring?"

He is testing me, thought Dooku. As always.

"The device works, My Master." Dooku thought he would bring the good news first.

"Oh? Which Jedi is no more?"

Dooku hesitated. "Kenobi was badly injured. But the assassins did not know there was another."

"I see." Sidious was very familiar with the power of two.

Dooku wondered uncomfortably whether his Master had divined the real target of the attack and was relieved when the conversation took another direction.

"Are you still confident that these D'laians are worth the time you have invested in them?" Sidious asked.

Count Dooku framed his answer carefully. "I have spent enough time among them to know that they are fearless. And they certainly have no love for the Jedi." He thought about the years he had spent on D'lai after leaving the Order. Yes, he was confident in his recommendation. "I believe that with proper training they will be a valuable asset." He paused. "They are very easy to motivate."

"Very well," his Master decided, understanding perfectly. "Use whatever funds you need. Begin your training program immediately. We will have need of them soon enough."

"Yes, my Master," the Count said obediently, believing he had escaped detection.

"And Naboo?" Sidious continued his cross-examination.

Satisfied that the conversation had turned into a safe direction, Dooku responded with a little more enthusiasm. "Some incidents are being prepared that will make the Naboo grateful for their... protection."

"Good." Sidious continued his slow circuit around the hangar. "Then it's time the Senator returns to Coruscant. I don't want her on Naboo interfering."

"Yes, My Master."

There was a long silence. The Count knew better than to break it.

"There has been a significant disturbance in the Force," Sidious finally said. "Did you notice it?"

"No, My Master," Count Dooku replied, cautiously.

"Curious," said the Sith Master. "It took place around young Skywalker." There was a conspicuous pause. "He is never out of my awareness."

Dooku fought down a momentary burst of fear and said nothing.

"I have invested a great deal of time in him," Sidious went on. "You must help me make certain that anything that happens to him is of my own making."

"Yes, My Master." Dooku found the fear harder and harder to push down.

"As long as we understand one another, my friend."

"Yes, My Master."

Sidious nodded and waved him away. "I will call you when I need you." He continued walking while Count Dooku bowed deeply to him and backed away.

‘I never expected him to be that clumsy,' he thought, dismissing his devoted servant from his mind while his thoughts turned again to the boy.

He must try not to be too impatient. But this kind of delight was very hard to contain. Even he had not anticipated that the boy's gifts would show up so startlingly.

The Jedi could be counted upon to throttle young Skywalker's passion and creativity in order to try to control him. They were always so afraid of the larger, deeper aspects of the Force. They would contain him and limit him to a bursting point. And eventually he would break free.

It was all so deliciously predictable.

"And then...and then...he will find his true home in me." The thought resonated in the deepest part of his being, and gave him a knot of dark pleasure that he went back to savor again and again.

Chapter 24. The Way Home

As soon as Anakin was given leave to go Padmé put all of her considerable energy and resources into getting them to the Lake House. It was the only place she felt safe from prying eyes. She allowed only a small, handpicked service staff to accompany them. Sabé was so angry and being excluded from her confidence that they were barely on speaking terms, but Padmé was beyond caring.

It was of course far too late to avoid gossip, but Padmé decided that it might work to her advantage. By leaving people to gossip about an affair she could more easily hide the marriage. Mercifully, in the beauty and serenity of the lakeside retreat is was easy to forget that the rest of the world existed. It was the first time she and Anakin had been together without the constant threat that it would also be their last.

For his part Anakin used all of his meager resources to practice standing up. He would not allow Padmé to marry someone who couldn't stand on his own feet. On the afternoon of their first day in the Lake House Padmé found him collapsed on the terrace by the bedroom, shirtless, in bare feet and shivering. It was a warm day but Anakin was always shivering.

She flew to him. "How did you get here?"

"I walked," he said through chattering teeth. He was very pleased.

"You're freezing!" She scolded, helping him awkwardly to his feet and trying to support him as he made his painful way back inside. "Why would you let yourself get so cold?"

"I am going to walk on my own tomorrow."

"You don't have to do this, Anakin. It doesn't matter to me."

"It matters to me." It mattered enormously. The idea of letting her down in any way was much more agonizing than walking.

"Come inside. I'll help you get warm." Padmé spent a lot of time wrapped around Anakin. Her vibrant presence in the Force was often the only thing that could calm his chills.

"That's another good reason to get cold," he said, shaking.

Until that moment Padmé had not allowed herself to have expectations of any kind about Anakin's eventual recovery. She had decided firmly that having him alive was enough. But this definitely was beginning to sound like the old Anakin. She felt an exhilarating surge of hope.

"You fool," she grumbled. "You don't need an excuse for that. And neither do I." But she took the hint and spent the rest of the day and night draped over or around him to keep him warm while they talked and dozed. Neither one could remember having spent a more peaceful or healing time.

During the night while she slept Anakin got up again and practiced walking unaided until he was satisfied that he could stay on his feet for a reasonable amount of time. Only then did he allow himself to rest.

On the afternoon of the second day Anakin dressed with difficulty in his Jedi robes, made his way painfully to the broad terrace that overlooked the lake, and waited for his bride.

If he had not already been as weak as an infant the sight of Padmé in her white gown and veil would have had the same effect. He lost all power of speech and his heart, which had still not found its proper rhythm, started to pound alarmingly. He took care to remember to keep breathing.

She came close, making him dizzy with wonder. She was glowing - perhaps from the afternoon sun.

"Ohh..." he moaned softly, his powers of articulation no stronger than his body.

Padmé looked at him seriously.

"Are you all right? Can you stand?"

"For this? For you?" he managed to whisper. "Yes, I can stand..."

The wedding ceremony was brief and poignant. It was miraculous, really. A quiet, kind man spoke a few profound words and afterward the universe was changed. Padmé took his hands, one metal and one flesh, and that in that instant he became whole. She kissed him gently and everything that had felt broken was mended.

The Holy Man left quietly and Anakin managed to remain standing. Somehow with Padmé by his side it was easier.

"Now you really are mine," she said. "I can't believe it."

"I always was," he managed. "I always will be."

"It's different," she said. "Everything seems better now. I'm not afraid of losing you any more."

She could have been speaking directly out of his own heart.

"I still can't believe you want me... this way." Anakin's breathing was growing a bit ragged. She inclined her head closer to him and he tried hard not to wobble.

"Pay attention, Anakin," she said. "It's you I love. Just you."

"Me," he said, finding it hard to believe. "Just me." Even so, he resolved that she would not have to put up with him like this forever. One way or another, he would get his powers back. He would do it for her. From the moment Padmé had reached out to claim him as her own Anakin had suddenly begun to care what became of him again. He wanted to be worthy of her.

Padmé gently pulled his arm over her shoulder to give him support and began to slowly guide him back inside.

"I... I'm sorry there is not going to be much of a wedding night," he said faintly.

Padmé's smile arose out of a deep private place inside of her. "Oh," she said, "I think we have already had a few of those. Besides, you have to leave in a few hours."

It took some doing, but they made it into the bedroom where Anakin collapsed gratefully, already exhausted. Padmé watched him with love and longing as she slowly took off her veil and put it aside. Still wearing her wedding dress she lay down beside him, curling up against him so that she could feel his every heartbeat and hear every breath. She was deeply and consciously grateful for each one.

Even though Anakin could scarcely reach out and embrace her he felt her presence in every cell of his body.

"Padmé," he whispered. "Thank you for this gift."

"Thank you for yours," she said softly.

They sank into a blessed and heartfelt silence.

After a while she whispered, "Anakin?"

"Here."

"Anakin, "is this destiny or is it free will?"

He thought for a while.

"I don't really care," he finally decided, "as long as it brought me to you."

They remained there, linked together from head to toe, until it was time for him to go.

* * * * *

Anakin was true to his promise.

On schedule he boarded the Nubian Star, a spice transporter on its way to the Capital city of the Galaxy. He would arrive in Coruscant in less than two standard days.

He spent the journey entirely by himself. Being so weak he chose to spend most of his time in meditation. The cargo vessel, although large, was for the most part automated and the Captain and two crewmen generally ignored their Jedi passenger and went about their business. Only occasionally did one or the other of them wonder how a person could remain so still for so long. Or need so many blankets.

Oh, well. The Jedi were a world unto themselves. The ordinary workers of the Galaxy rarely had occasion to encounter them.

Anakin may have been by himself but he was anything but alone.

Under his shirt, over his heart he wore a small but perfect Nubian star stone jewel, one of the rarest gemstones in the Galaxy and unique to Naboo. They were prized not only for their deep night-blue color and transparency, but for the pinpoints of white reflections, like stars, that appeared deep inside if a carefully cut stone was held up to the light.

A star stone was a galaxy unto itself.

It had been a gift from Padmé. But despite its value and rarity, it was nothing compared to the gift of which it was only a token.

The gift of sacred promises. Of a place where he finally belonged.

Of commitment. Of permanence. Of unconditional welcome.

Of a home and a family and a place to come back to no matter where life took him. No matter where else he might be excluded.

Because of her gift he could go back and face his Masters and take whatever consequences they exacted from him.

By giving herself to him in marriage, Padmé had set him free to choose his own path.

THE END

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