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

FAN FICTION : CLASSIC TRILOGY ERA

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Reconciliation: The Boy-Angel

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He had expected nothing.

What happened instead was a rush of wind across his face, cool, yet warming him to the very core of his being. He remembered closing his eyes, but somehow they were open again, and he could see. Only it wasn't quite seeing.

It was a new sensation, like taking in the sights and sounds and scents around him, without the use of his eyes or ears or nose. Everything was taken in directly to his soul, as if it were a part of him.

What exactly he saw, or sensed, was unclear at first. It took him some time to adjust to this strange feeling, of letting everything flow through him. Yet when he had grown used to it, it seemed so natural he wondered if he had not been doing it all his life.

His life. Now a distant memory.

What he saw, or felt, or became a part of, was fire. He could not sense the heat, though he knew it was there. The licking flames pulled out a memory of another fire, long ago - it seemed centuries - whose flames consumed a fallen hero. But who burned here now? He recognized the black shape. An involuntary shudder coursed through him, echoing in the space he filled and touched, sending vibrations through the air.

And then he saw the boy.

"Luke," he whispered, and was surprised to sense the sound of his voice within him. The word, he realized, would not reach human ears. Not by the means he was used to. And the boy did not hear.

But as the flames rose to the heavens, a small smile appeared on the boy's face, bittersweet and warm.

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And then it was all swept away, rushing from him as if carried by the wind. It took him a moment to realize that he was the one moving. But how? He had done nothing, nothing that he knew of. Who was reaching out for him, pulling him?

The motion ceased all at once and he adjusted his senses once more to the scene about him. There was fire again, and dancing and singing and celebration. The cause of the celebration was unimportant; nor did it matter to him who was celebrating. He only knew that he wanted to join in.

"Anakin." It was a voice inside him, echoing in every portion of his being. But it had come from somewhere else, not from himself. Without even thinking why or how, he turned around.

And he was there, shimmering with a pale blue light, seeming to flicker as if in danger of fading away any second. His eyes still had that piercing look, as if he could see through things. Perhaps he could.

"Obi-Wan." He didn't know what else to say. He didn't even know how he was able to say anything at all, but apparently Obi-Wan had heard him, unlike Luke.

Suddenly Anakin fell to his knees, his head bowed, not knowing how he was able to move in this new form, not caring how he did it, only knowing that he was too full of shame and guilt to stand.

"Master," he murmured, his voice seeming to scream within him. "Master, I have failed you."

Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin's, and a peculiar warmth surged through him. "Stand up," Obi-Wan told him. "I won't have you groveling."

"Yes, Master," Anakin said automatically, and obeyed.

Obi-Wan looked at him with concern. "Are you all right? You may have been through something of a shock."

Anakin, without thinking, blurted out the first question that came to his mind. "Am I dead?"

To his surprise, Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes," he answered, "from a certain point of view. But in another sense, you've just come alive."

Anakin decided to avoid a philosophical discussion and instead asked a more practical question. "How do I move? What am I, exactly?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "That you have to learn for yourself. I cannot teach you. But you ought to know this, at least: what you are now has always been inside of you."

Anakin pondered this for a moment. "Then there were many times when I smothered it," he said at last.

"Yes," his old master nodded. "But we'll not speak of that now. Right now I think there's someone who wants to see you."

Puzzled, Anakin repeated, "Someone wants to see me? Who -"

Wordlessly, Obi-Wan directed his gaze back to the celebration. There, in the midst of the joyous figures, was the boy. His boy.

"Luke!" Anakin looked with delight at his son, not even realizing that he had moved and spoken in that strange, non-mortal way. "Can he see me?" he asked Obi-Wan eagerly.

There was no need to answer his question. The boy had stepped out of the circle, leaning against a post just a few feet from where Anakin and Obi-Wan stood. And there could be no doubt that he saw them. A grin spread across his face, and without speaking he showed every sign of recognition. Anakin, almost bursting with joy, could find no words to convey what he felt.

Then another joined the boy, and Anakin felt as though an electric jolt and run through him. It was the girl - the sister - his daughter. Leia.

Obi-Wan somehow sent a reassuring surge toward Anakin. 'Don't worry,' it whispered. 'She can't see you.'

Anakin's thoughts traveled back without his even trying. 'She can't?' For some reason, he was disappointed.

'Not yet.'

Leia pulled her brother gently back to the celebration. Before he turned back, however, he cast one last glance at them. Anakin made sure to smile. 'My son.'

Then he was gone, and Anakin felt the slightest twinge of coldness at his absence. 'I wish I had know him better...'

Something else tugged at him, sending shivers through him. Anakin turned instinctively to Obi-Wan. Then he looked past him and shuddered with shock. Why had he not noticed before?

It was Yoda.

Being this close to the great Jedi Master brought back all of Anakin's shame full force. "Master," he managed to gasp, and bowed once more.

Yoda did not speak, but he acknowledged Anakin with a brief nod.

'Stand up, Anakin.' Once more Obi-Wan's thoughts traveled through his former apprentice. 'He's not angry with you.'

Surprised, Anakin looked up at the old Jedi's wizened face. Obi-Wan was right. There was no trace of anger in Yoda's countenance, though he eyed Anakin sternly. Of course. After all, wasn't anger the path to the dark side? Anakin frowned and cursed himself for his folly.

"The path to peace of soul, this is not," Yoda said suddenly. Anakin realized his thoughts had been perceived by the Jedi. But what did Yoda mean? He was reprimanding Anakin, that much he knew. However, Yoda's peculiar backwards speech had always confused Anakin a little, from the very beginning...*See through you, we can...*

"The path to peace of soul?" Anakin repeated hesitantly.

"You have lived a troubled life, Anakin," Obi-Wan put in, and his old apprentice almost laughed. Leave it to Obi-Wan to make such a ridiculous understatement. "Now you must heal," he went on. "Already you have started in the right direction, by choosing, ultimately, good over evil and giving yourself a second chance."

"But much to learn, have you," Yoda told Anakin. "A difficult path, this is."

Still rather confused, Anakin opened his mouth to ask a multitude of questions. Before he could speak, however, Yoda put a finger to his lips and closed his eyes, as though preparting to meditate. The next instant, his image flickered and disappeared.

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Anakin watched in astonishment, then turned back to Obi-Wan. "I want to learn how to do that!" he exclaimed.

His old master smiled again. "I thought you might."

"Master?" Anakin said tentatively. "What - what do I look like?"

"Your form won't be reflected in any mirror," Obi-Wan told him. "It will take more than that to see yourself."

"Let me guess," Anakin interrupted. "I have to use this new sense of mine, to look inside myself and learn for myself, just like I have to do everything else."

"You're a fast learner," Obi-Wan laughed. "That's pretty much how you do anything in your new form. Forget physical rules. You are now truly a part of the Force."

Anakin's head went down. "I don't deserve to be." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Obi-Wan touched his shoulder, sending a comforting ripple through him. But Anakin shrugged him off sharply.

"Why are you like this?" he demanded. "You and Master Yoda, all forgiving and calm and understanding - after what I did? After what I was?" Crying was a different sensation now; it filled his whole being with convulsions. "Master - I murdered you."

Obi-Wan was silent. He let Anakin sob for a few moments, continuing to send a stream of reassurance his way. At last he spoke. "I do not blame you for where the path of the Dark Side led you, Anakin. I only blame you for choosing to take that path. Once started upon it, it requires a strength almost beyond human capacity to come back to the Good Side. In your case, it was the strength of love - your son's love for you, and your love for him. And I am proud of you beyond measure for finding that strength. Even I, I admit, had given up hope."

Anakin sat quietly, listening to his master's words as his sobs subsided. He still could not believe the calmness in Obi-Wan's voice, the complete absence of malice. He had lived so full of hate for so long that he was surprised to find it absent in others.

"Thank you, Master," he said slowly. "I don't deserve your respect, but I thank you for it."

Obi-Wan arose from the fence where his form had appeared to be sitting. "I would be grateful for those who forgive you quickly, Anakin. This isn't going to be easy." His apprentice looked at him anxiously, searching for hope in his face. Obi-Wan smiled gently, with a touch of sternness. "You must make this journey alone, Anakin," he went on. "You must find peace of soul for yourself."

There it was again, that odd phrase Yoda had used. "Peace of soul." He looked at Obi-Wan desperately. "I don't understand."

"That's part of the journey," Obi-Wan replied simply, as though it made perfect sense. His image began to flicker.

Anakin panicked. "Wait, Master!" he cried. "How do I -"

"Look inside yourself," Obi-Wan told him, and vanished.

"Look inside myeslf," Anakin muttered. "Help!"

But no help came, and Anakin was alone. The celebration continued before him, but he was not a part of it. He never could be. Mortal beings, full of life and exuberance, were all beyond his reach now.

*Look inside yourself*...perhaps he could give it a try, at least. One of Yoda's old adages came back to him. 'Do, or do not. There is no try.'

All right, then. He'd do it.

I am physical no more, he reminded himself. I am a part of the Force. I always was. I always will be.

*Look inside yourself...*

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He reached outward, then inward. A thousand things seemed to flash before him - desert, forest, snow, raging storms, rushing waterfalls, cold metal, warm flesh, hot and cold and dark and light. Some thing began to emerge before his eyes, blurry at first, then slowly coming into focus. It was a figure - a human - a man, old and worn.

"Me. That's me," Anakin said, astonished. It was an old man, but not ugly or scarred. Not a wrinkled, decaying mockery of a human. A strong figure, with a face full of warmth and kindness. Anakin was relieved. This was what his son had seen. No wonder he had smiled. This is what Anakin could have been.

Before regret could enter his soul once more and eat away at him, Anakin turned his vision outward again. To his surprise, he was no longer standing at the edge of the celebration. He was in a place he knew all too well.

"Courscant," he murmured. "The entire planet's one big city." He frowned. "A giant, heartless city, with no room for human kindness. Cold. Empty."

But it could have been different, he mused as he drifted through the Emperor's apartment. It could have been beautiful. It used to be.

And perhaps it would be again. He watched the citizens of Courscant celebrate and knew, somehow, that it was the same celebration he had left behind. They were all rejoicing over the same victory. A new hope. A rebirth.

Anakin knew he had seen what he needed to see here. He turned inward again.

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A star seemed to explode before his eyes. A death star. Or was it a planet? Now it was a starship, circular with a globe at the center. Lights burst forth like fireworks, nearly blinding him, though he was not using his eyes. And then he opened them.

He was a boy again. The form that he saw now he had seen before, in his reflection in the shiny metal of a gleaming starship. There he was, his shaggy hair in need of a good washing, his little face scrunched up in deep thought. Confused at this transformation, Anakin looked to see where he was.

Another familiar place. Achingly familiar. Home.

"And it's as hot and dry as always." Yet he did not feel the heat, any more than he had felt the warmth of the fire. He only knew it was there.

Suddenly he wanted to explore, to visit all the old places and remember. The old hovel - Watto's shop - the hanger - the podracing arena. He drifted from place to place, hungrily taking in the sights and sounds and scents with his newfound senses. Everything seemed slightly different from how he had remembered it - dirtier, and more broken down. But it was home.

He visited the hovel last of all, and there he had to stop. This had changed the most. The buildings looked as though a dust storm had run through them - which, perhaps, it had. They were a sad sight, even more dilapidated than he had known them. His own home was the worst. The metal door had been torn down, and inside objects lay strewn about the floor, broken and covered with rust.

What had happened? Was this the true appearance of his old home, or merely a distorted memory? Perhaps it was of what might have been, or what could have been, or what would never be. He had no answers.

There was a voice coming from somewhere, reaching his form and rippling through him. So familiar...what was it saying?

"Ani...Ani...Ani..."

He felt as though his soul would burst. "Mom!"

She stood in the kitchen, her image shimmering just like Obi-Wan's, though it was surrounded not with blue, but a golden sheen.

"Anakin." Her face broke into a smile. "I was worried you'd never come back."

He stayed at the entrance, suddenly nervous. "I almost didn't," he murmured.

"Come here, Anakin." She knelt down and held out her arms.

He could not hold back. Like a little boy once more, he dashed across the room into his mother's embrace. Instantly he was enveloped with a warm, glowing love, that no one but his mother could give. Again he found himself crying, but now when the sobs coursed through him, they were comforting and peaceful. He realized his mother, too, was weeping.

At last he pulled himself away and looked in his mother's face. Again, there was not trace of anger, only love and kindness. "Why, Mom?" his whispered. "Why aren't you angry at me?"

"Because you came back," she said.

He gazed earnestly into her eyes. It was a strange feeling, being eye level with her. He had looked down on everyone for so long...

"Don't look back."

Anakin stared at his mother, the words reverberating through him. "What?"

"Don't look back." She looked at him meaningfully.

All at once he understood. "Thank you, Mom."

She cupped his face in her hands fondly. "I missed you, Anakin."

"I missed you too." He gave her another hug. "I have to go now."

"I know." She stood up and smiled down at him. "You will find what you are searching for. I can see that. My heart goes with you, my son."

Her words rang in his ears as the scene before him vanished. Once more scenes began to appear and disappear like lightening, terrifying scenes of war and fearsome monsters and fierce warriors. Still a little child, he trembled with fright. But then he remembered what he carried with him. His mother's love. And he was no longer afraid.

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When he stopped at last, he had arrived at a place so different from where he had been that it took his breath away - that is, it would have, if he had needed to breathe.

Clouds were his first impression - large, white, fluffy clouds, a rare sight on Tatooine. Here, however, they filled the sky.

He was standing upon a lush green hill, overlooking a beautiful city. The first thing he realized, as he took in his new surroundings, was that he had never been here before. The second thing he realized was that he could not be here now. How did he know? He couldn't say. But somehow he knew that this planet had long been destroyed. By him.

He wasn't actually the one who did it. But he might as well have been. He had certainly done enough to her; why not include blowing up her planet?

And she was his own flesh and blood.

Clearly, he was not seeing the present. This was sometime in the planet's past, when it still had a future. And for some reason he was there to see it.

The sound of laughing voices turned his attention away from the city. He looked at the hills all around him and saw several children playing in the grass. There were two boys and three girls, he saw, as they came closer to his hill. Would they see him? They were living, breathing forms, not the luminous beings Anakin had been seen by before. But then, there was Luke...

He wondered suddenly what they would see, if he was visible to them. Looking inside himself, he saw a boy, this time slightly older. He was, in fact, just about the age of the children playing before him.

He listened to their words as they neared the hill where he stood. Gradually their words began to reach him, the voices of children with no greater cares than the games they played.

"No, you always get to be the princess," a girl complained. "It's my turn."

"That's not true," countered the accused. "You were princess last time, remember?"

"Aw, quit fighting," one of the boys said in disgust. Being the princess isn't that great anyway. Why don't you just let her be the princess?" He pointed at the third girl. Anakin felt a ripple pass through him, like electricity, as he looked on the girl. Her dark brown tresses and pixie-like features brought a thousand things to his remembrance. *Leia.*

"No, I don't want to be the princess!" the girl said loudly, and Anakin found himself smiling at her determined scowl. "I want to be a warrior."

The other boy folded his arms and looked at her doubtfully. "You can't be a warrior. We don't have wars here."

"I know that," she said, rolling her eyes. "I want to fight the bad guys. Not here. Out there." She pointed at the skies. "On a starship."

"Well, we're not playing that game now," the first girl broke in. "We're playing Princesses."

"And Princes," the second boy reminded her.

"And Princes," the girl nodded. "Now, only one of us can be the Princess. Who will it be?"

"Why don't we ask him?" Leia suggested, looking directly at the place where Anakin stood. "That would make it fair." They could see him! Anakin felt somewhat nervous.

"Who?" The children looked in his direction, squinting in the sunlight, but they showed no sign of seeing him.

Leia frowned. "What do you mean?" She pointed at him. "He's right there."

"You're as crazy as a paana," the first boy decided. "There's nothing there."

Leia watched with dismay as the others expressed their agreement. She apparently decided against arguing at the risk of being further ridiculed. However, she stayed behind as the children started down the hill and began their game - the girls had decided they could both be princesses.

She was coming closer, up the hill, looking directly at him. Anakin felt his nervousness rise once more, but it was combined with a sort of excitement. Unlike the others he had spoken with, she did not know who he was - what he had done.

She did not know that he was one of the bad guys she wanted to fight.

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"Hello," he said as she came to his side. He was surprised to discover that he was an inch or two shorter than she was. That was certainly a change.

"Hello," she said. Her face was calm, fearless. But there was a touch of wonder in her eyes, brought on, no doubt, by his unusual form. "Who are you? And why do you look like that? And why can't anyone else see you?"

"You ask a lot of questions," he smiled. "I don't know if you want all the answers."

"Yes, I do," she replied impatiently.

"Can't I ask some questions first?"

"Why?"

"I'm very curious."

"So am I."

"I know."

They looked at each other silently for a moment. Anakin found himself marveling at the resemblance. Both so beautiful, both so strong-willed...

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She cocked her head at him.

"Nothing." He allowed himself a grin. "You just remind me of someone I know."

"You said you wanted to ask me some questions."

"Yes." He wondered where to begin. "What's your name?" He was interested in how she would answer.

She straightened and announced in a highly proper tone, "I am Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, daughter of Senator Bail Organa." She resumed her casual pose. "Did that sound right? Daddy is so particular about that sort of thing."

Anakin, positively bursting with pride, managed to answer casually, "It was very nice." *My daughter. My daughter!* "And how old are you?"

"Eleven. How old are you?"

He frowned. "I don't know."

"Silly, you must have some idea," she teased.

"No, I don't."

"Are you an angel?"

The jolt pierced through his entire being, nearly knocking him over. "What?" he gasped.

"You heard me. An angel. You asked me some questions, now it's my turn."

"Yes, but..." He searched his mind wildly for something to say. "What - what is an angel?"

Her tone turned to disbelief. "You don't know?"

"I thought I did," he murmured.

She was silent for a moment. Then she murmured softly, "My mommy's an angel."

A second jolt flashed through him. "Your - mommy?"

Leia sank to the ground, her eyes focused on some unseen vision. "I don't remember much about her. She's dead, you know."

"Yes," he said numbly, but she didn't hear him.

"I was very, very little, but I can still remember. She held me in her arms and said 'Leia, I'm going away. I'm sorry I can't stay, but I have to leave. But do you know what happens to people when they die? They become angels. They watch over us and protect us. And though we can't see them most of the time, we know they're there. And sometimes they come and talk to us. So you see, I'll never really have to leave you."

Anakin was crying again. What had moved his wife to tell their daughter such things? Had she known, could she possibly have known? Or was it just a fairy tale she told to console Leia?

"I didn't know angels could cry." Leia was eyeing him curiously.

He sighed. "Neither did I."

Hesitantly, Leia reached out to him. She slowly put her hand on his shoulder.

Both Anakin and Leia yelped and stepped back from each other.

"It's like touching a lightening bolt," Leia gasped, shaking her hand.

"Sorry," Anakin said sheepishly. "I didn't know I could do that either."

Leia narrowed her eyes. "Who are you, really?"

"I'm just a boy from Tatooine."

"But you are an angel," she said hopefully.

"I guess you could say that."

"And why have you come here?"

I was wondering that myself, he thought, but did not say it. Instead, he pondered what message he could give to this girl, his daughter he had never known. "Leia -" He realized he had never said her name aloud, and repeated it with pleasure. "Leia."

"What?" she said impatiently.

He chose his words carefully. "I've come here to tell you something."

"Yes?"

"You say you want to be a warrior." She looked at him sharply, then nodded slowly. "Then listen to me, and listen carefully. There are other ways to fight then with a blaster or a starfighter."

Leia frowned. "I don't understand."

"The most important victories are won not on the battlefield, but inside you," he explained. "Physical strength is not always enough. It's what's in your heart that matters."

She looked annoyed. "Now you're sounding just like Daddy. He's always talking about mind over might and politics and stuff like that. It's so boring!"

"Leia." His tone was stern.

"What?"

"Listen to him. He knows what he's talking about." Anakin fought the envy rising in his heart and swallowed hard. "He's a good father." With that, he gave her over to Bail, though his soul was shaking with sorrow.

His daughter was staring at him. "Who *are* you? You look like a boy, but you don't talk like one."

"Just remember what I told you, Leia. Remember."

She sighed. "Are you going to leave now?"

"Yes."

Her brow furrowed. "I'll miss you, I think."

He choked back a sob. "I'll miss you."

"Will I ever see you again?"

Anakin couldn't help answering, "Yes," before he vanished.

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This time all was darkness as he traveled. He let it wash over him as though it could wipe away his memories. Which it didn't. And he didn't want it to.

Was it all real? Or had it just been a dream for Leia? Had she forgotten, or was she still waiting for the boy-angel to return?

All the questions disappeared when he stopped. Because now he saw himself, and the sight tore at him.

He was young, a tall, broad-shouldered boy of twenty. When he had lived in this form, he was bright, simply bursting with hope and promise. And he had thrown it all away. Smothered the light in an all-consuming darkness.

Where had he taken himself in this form? He had little doubt of what he would see.

He was right. There was no mistaking the lush green fields, the sound of rushing waterfalls. Slowly, almost frightened, he moved across the fields to the forest, gazing up at the towering trees.

They grew so steadily, reaching slowly for the heavens, undisturbed by all around them. They seemed to shrink his worries to nothing. Peace, as tangible as the crisp morning air, began to penetrate him.

And then he saw her.

She was sleeping under a tree, her hair tumbling over the ground, her chest rising and falling gently. She was more beautiful, more perfect than he had remembered. Reverently, not daring to come closer, Anakin leaned back against a nearby tree and watched. What was odd, he realized, was that she breathed, she slept, she lived - and yet she was like him, shimmering, ghost-like, transparent. She glowed a pale shade of amber, highlighting her delicate face. Though Anakin could not entirely trust his memory, he knew she had died. Then why did she live?

She began to stir. Anakin held his breath, in a sense, as she slowly sat up and stretched luxuriously. Then she stopped, mid-stretch, and frowned.

She knew he was there. She could sense him just as he could sense her. And she wasn't happy.

He didn't blame her for not being happy. But that didn't keep his heart from breaking.

She seemed to be willing herself not to look in his direction, fighting the pull that would draw her face to his. He could sense her struggling for several minutes, but eventually she could not resist. She turned.

Their eyes met.

Silence.

Anakin could not tear his gaze away. Through some unconcious pull, she held his gaze and would not let it go. He would look into her eyes forever.

He wanted to stop. He wanted to turn away, to hide his face, to escape, to free her from himself. But he couldn't. And his shame and self-reproach grew until he could barely stand it.

She, too, looked as though she wanted to escape. Her face was a mystery, however. Was she angry? Frightened? Scornful? Accusing? He could not tell - he, who had been able to sense her deepest feelings just by looking into her eyes...Now, he could sense only one thing: she was not happy.

He had to speak, though it might shatter that fragile bond that held them together. He had to say something, if only in the hopes of hearing her voice again.

"Padmé."

She started, as though waking from a dream. And he knew the moment was gone, destroyed forever by a single word. She turned away.

Desperately, Anakin stepped forward, hoping to hold her back, touch her hand, anything to keep her from going. But she vanished, leaving him grabbing the empty air.

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Anakin was tempted to sit down and burst into tears. But he wasn't going to give up yet. He would follow her. He had no idea where she had gone, of course. But every time before, he had taken himself where he needed to be. He trusted the same to happen this time.

It was like falling down a waterfall. Rushing currents carried him along, flowing so roughly and rapidly they took his breath away.

Then he realized he had been breathing.

This journey was the most terrifying one yet. He feared the falls would carry him to his death on the rocks below. Yet - wasn't he already dead?

When he stopped at last, he was shocked to discover that he could not move. It was as though he was frozen, caught in a place so cold it turned him to ice. But how could that be? He had been impervious to hot and cold, or any mortal sensations, ever since he died. The only one he had seen who seemed mortal, despite her luminous state, was - Padmé. She had appeared as alive as always, only - more so, more than he had ever known her. Why?

And why was it happening to him?

Frantically searching for an answer, Anakin turned inside himself once more. What form had he taken on now?

He was an old man again, wrinkled, weighed down with age. Oddly, he was wrapped in several layers of woolly animal furs, as though dressed to trudge through miles of snow. His face was partially concealed by a thick scarf; his greying hair was hidden under a furry hat.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't so odd. Struggling against the frozen grip that kept him from moving, Anakin forced his eyes open and began to take in his surroudings, unaware that he was using his eyes for the first time since his death. He was not too surprised to discover himself lying in a snowdrift, a world of pure icy white all around him. What did surprise him, as he slowly managed to emerge from the snowdrift, were all the sensations he was experiencing. First on his mind was the bitter cold, which somehow penetrated all his layers of fur. And then he was breathing, rather heavily from the enormous effort it took him to move. He hadn't somehow come back to life, had he? No, he still had that new sense he had never known in life. He was still dead - how did Obi-Wan say it? - from a certain point of view.

Was this a new point of view, then - being able to feel the cold and breathe once more? Anakin missed Obi-Wan's guidance terribly. There had been a time when he would have scorned the advice of one who, he thought, was so narrow-minded and backwards. His opinions had certainly changed since then.

Anakin stared bleakly at the blinding snow around him and suddenly thought, 'I know this place. This is where -' He could not finish. Like Coruscant, like Alderaan, this planet held a thousand memories of a thousand sufferings. His son, his daughter, their friends - they had all suffered at his own hands.

'Don't look back,' he remembered, and his mother's words gave him just a touch of hope. Taking a deep breath, which he had almost forgotten how to do, Anakin began walking across the snow, not knowing where he was going, but trusting in the Force to guide him.

He trudged through the frozen wasteland for some time. It could have been hours, it could have been days. It all seemed the same to him. He stopped looking ahead of him; it was the same white landscape as far as he could see. Instead, he stared down at his feet, growing wearier with each step. There was another sensation he had not experienced since his death: being tired. He had not missed it.

He could almost imagine sleeping.

Padmé. Ever since he had seen her, breathing, sleeping, living - he had begun doing it himself. What did it mean?

He could go no further. Falling to his knees, gasping, he rubbed his hand together in a vain attempt to warm them. He was so cold, so bitterly cold. He could not recall ever being so cold, even while still living.

So tired...He would just close his eyes for a moment, just to rest them...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Anakin..."

It was a whisper from a distance, a breath of wind. He struggled to open his eyes and find the source of the voice, but there was only the endless snowy landscape, unbroken by any sign of life.

'Who is it?' His lips refused to move, but he sent out his thoughts, hoping they would reach whoever called him.

"Anakin...you've returned."

The voice was coming closer, growing stronger, becoming familiar. Could it be? 'M -Master Qui-Gon?' Anakin wondered, almost afraid to say his name.

"Yes, Anakin. I'm here."

Anakin tried to lift his head, but it fell almost immediately back into the snow. 'Too - tired...'

"Don't try to get up, Anakin. Just look inside and you'll see me."

He no longer questioned the advice of others more wiser and experienced than he. He did as the old Jedi told him and looked inside himself. There he was, the same old man, and there, standing beside him - Qui-Gon.

It was like watching actors play out a scene in his mind - but he was one of the actors. It was a waking dream, a moment out of body. If he even had a body anymore...

"Anakin," Qui-Gon smiled, putting his hand on his shoulder. They were nearly the same height now - and the Jedi had once towered above him, his majestic height inspiring almost as much respect in his little boyish mind as his great powers and kindness. And now, though Anakin had grown, they were still not equals.

"You, too," Anakin murmured. "Forgiving as the rest of them."

"The inability to forgive someone is a curse, Anakin," Qui-Gon said solemnly. "It tears away at your soul until there's nothing left but hate. I think you already know that."

"Of course." Anakin held his head down.

"Let them forgive you, all of them," the Jedi Master told him. "If you deny them the right to forgive you'll deny yourself the right to heal."

"I understand, I think," Anakin said slowly. Hesitantly he added, "But what if they don't want to forgive me? I can't force them to do that."

"I know who you're thinking of," Qui-Gon said softly. "And you're right. You can't force her to do anything. Let her find her own way. And if she decides to take that path with you at her side -"

"Will she?" Anakin asked abruptly, unable to stay silent. "Please, Master Qui-Gon, you have to tell me -"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I cannot see into other people's hearts. You must discover this for yourself. And you must be patient."

Anakin sighed heavily. "That's never been one of my better qualities."

Laughing gently, the Jedi Master agreed. "No, I suppose not. But now's the time to develop that, isn't it?" He added with a wry smile, "You have all of eternity, after all."

Anakin had to ask. "Do you think - is there any hope at all?"

"There will always be hope, Anakin. Because you've come back. Till the very moment you turned, there could only be despair. You brought hope back." Qui-Gon looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you really were the Chosen One after all."

For the first time in years, the mention of that phrase did not send shudders through Anakin. He merely shrugged.

"Never give up hope. That's all I can say." Qui-Gon gave his shoulder a final comforting pat and began to fade away.

"It would be nice to see someone leave normally for once," Anakin muttered, but there was a small smile on his face as he watched his would-be master disappear.

Then he turned outward again, and all was coldness. The planet's sun denied him the warmth it should have given, while the snow reflected its light with a blinding, cruel brightness. It seemed to mock him. Qui-Gon's visit seemed but a distant memory as the cold began to penetrate him once more. Sleep, if possible, seemed the only way to escape it...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warm. A wonderful glowing warmth filling his entire being. I must be dreaming, Anakin decided. Pulling the blanket more tightly about him, he moved closer to the warmth and wished the dream would never end.

Blanket? Anakin's eyes popped open. That wasn't a dream.

He was in a cave, a snow cave, so he must be on the same planet. But it was warm here. That would be explained by the thick woollen blanket which had been draped around him and the small fire that blazed cheerily at the center of the cave.

"Who? -" Anakin wondered. Before he could finish the question, however, it had been answered.

Padmé appeared at the entrance to the cave. She did not seem to notice that Anakin was awake, a matter of great relief to him. Walking over to the fire, she sat down before it and began warming her hands.

Anakin watched her quietly, filled with wonder. There could be no mistaking those deep brown eyes and soft features; it was his wife, without a doubt. However, she was no longer young. As the scarf fell from her face, her saw the wrinkles of old age, the careworn brow of years' worries. The hair that slipped down from under her hat was as white as the snow that surrounded them.

But she was still beautiful.

He kept his gaze fixed on her as though in a trance, lost in a distant dream-world. And nearly jumped out of his skin when she said quite suddenly, without pausing in her hand-warming, "So you're awake."

"Y-yes," he said finally, slowly sitting up, not sure how to interpret her tone. Again he wondered - was she angry? Sad? And again he could not tell. He only knew that the sound of her voice, after all those empty years, was music. But now she was silent again, continuing to warm herself, as though he was no longer there.

He couldn't stand it. "Padmé, can we talk? Please?" He would get down on his knees and beg if he had to.

She said nothing at first. Disappointed, Anakin started to try again. "Please. I -"

"No." She looked up and faced him at last, a strange look on her face. "No, Anakin, I can't."

Now, finally, he knew what emotion formed her expression, filled her tone as she spoke. "You're afraid. That's it, isn't it, Padmé?"

She did not answer.

He spoke gently, terrified that the slightest harshness in his voice would make her disappear again. "What are you afraid of?" Horror filled his heart as he considered the possibilities. "Are you afraid of me? Please don't be." He was in danger of crying again. "Please."

"I'm not afraid of you," she said softly. "You needn't worry about that."

"Then what is it?"

She gave him a hard gaze. "Think about it, Anakin."

He hung his head, wondering why he had even asked. "Of course I know." Looking desperately into her eyes, he added, "But can't you give me a chance? I can't expect you to forgive me, but couldn't you try, at least, not to hate me?"

Padmé sighed, and for a moment she seemed frail, weak, all the vitality of youth gone. "That's a lot to ask of me."

Anakin's heart seemed to break a thousand times within him. His hate, his terrible, all-consuming hate, had destroyed the lives of all he had loved. How could be he possibly make up for that?

Yet he couldn't help trying. He couldn't let her go. "For what it's worth - and I know it's not much," he managed to say, "I'm sorry."

"I have to go now," Padmé said suddenly.

Anakin frowned. "Now? Already?" Could she not stand being in his presence any longer?

"Yes." She began to fade. Almost on the verge of despair, Anakin arose and reached out to her.

"Padmé!"

Her voice lingered after she had gone. "Anakin - it's worth a lot."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That single phrase sustained him, filled him with hope beyond what he had ever dreamed possible. Reliving again and again their brief conversation, he put new meaning into every word, reminding himself that she believed his apology was worth something. He could have wept with the sheer joy of it. But he held back, having cried enough already. In fact, his death seemed to have turned him into something of a crybaby. An unexpected side effect.

He wanted nothing more than to see her again, though it might only result in more disappointment. He missed her already. But could he go where she had gone? He had taken himself to the right place this time - eventually he had found her, or she had found him - but only after making his way through miles of frozen wilderness. Was it necessary for him to suffer before he could see her?

After thinking of what he had done to her, he decided it was only fair.

He prepared to travel and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, however, he opened them again, sensing that he had arrived. Fast journey.

A brilliant light assailed his eyes the instant he opened them, momentarily blinding him and sending a wave of pain through his being. Persistently, he struggled to adjust his sight and blinked away the tears that filled his burning eyes. At last he began to see clearly. The sight was familiar: the trees, the hills, the blazing blue sky. What had changed was the sun, which burned brighter than he had ever remembered. Its brightness had taken away his sight for a time, but both its light and its warmth were welcome sensations for him. He felt young once more. Looking inside himself, he saw why - he was back in the form of a young man. Back in the forest.

And where was Padmé?

Throwing caution to the wind, he plunged headlong into the forest, ignoring the branches that scratched his face, even reveling at the wonderful feeling of pain. He ran along a well-worn path, calling her name, breathless, tired, hot, sweaty and exuberant.

But she would not be found. He seemed to see her shadow, dancing far ahead of them, but disappearing as soon as he reached it. Her voice seemed to echo in the trees, calling out to him, music without shape or form. She was all around him -- she was everywhere -- she was nowhere.

Finally Anakin slowed down, exhausted, beginning to wonder if he had come to the right place. It was always the right place, he reminded himself. But where was she?

Nightfall was coming. Wearily, Anakin curled up at the foot of a tree and began to close his eyes. Then they flew open again. What was that? Leaning against a tree just a few feet away from him...He sat up. She had been there all along, and he had never seen her.

"Padmé?" Anakin began walking towards her cautiously. "Why -?" He could not think of how to finish the question and watched her instead, silent, reverent. She was young again as well, beautiful, graceful, and - trembling.

"Now I can talk with you," she said quietly, keeping her face averted from his. "Sit down, Anakin."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He obeyed, gazing at her anxiously. Slowly she sat down beside him, still not looking out his face, and let out a long sigh. "You said I was afraid," she began. "I am. I'm afraid of what you are capable of. I'm afraid of what you have done. I'm afraid of the monster that lived inside of you and tore you heart out. But most of all," she went on, her voice shaking, "Most of all, I'm afraid I still love you."

Anakin didn't know what to say, or what to think. "I - I'm sorry," he murmured feebly.

"I know."

He changed topics, afraid that she would leave again if the conversation continued like this. "Do you know - do you understand what's going on with me? Because I'm very confused."

A smile actually crept onto her face. "Of course you're confused. It's very confusing, being dead."

"Yes." If only he could keep that smile on her face! He used to make her smile all the time... "It was something of a surprise, that's for sure."

"It's taken me years to get used to it." The smile had vanished, probably as she remembered her own sorrow-filled death. Desperately he searched for something to cheer her up.

"I thought of you, before I died. All of you - our family."

"Our family," she repeated with a frown.

Anakin watched her for a moment, then said tentatively, "I did save his life. Luke's, I mean. Our son."

"Yes."

He craned his neck, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of her expression. Did it mean anything to her that he had saved their son?

Or that their son had saved him?

Slowly, his hand trembling, Anakin began to reach for her face. She didn't turn away; she didn't disappear. Drawing his breath softly, he touched her check.

Physical contact with Padmé was different from the others; just touching her face filled him with more warmth and comfort than he had ever imagined. She flinched slightly, but she didn't turn her face away. Holding her chin delicately as if it would break, he turned her gaze into his.

"I know you're afraid," he whispered, "and I know you have every reason to be. But please, Padmé, just give me a chance and I'll make sure you're never hurt again."

Though she did not speak out loud, Anakin was repulsed by a thought so powerful his wife could not contain it. 'And how much are his promises worth?' she asked herself bitterly. It was true, she had every right - but it stung terribly.

'I know,' his thoughts responded. 'But everyone else is giving me a second chance. Can't you try to do it too?'

She looked surprised as his thoughts entered her mind. Hearing people's thoughts, then, was one thing he was more experienced in than she was. But she adjusted quickly.

'I - I can't, Ani.' Yet her face was moving closer.

The pull was growing stronger. 'Try. Please.' He couldn't count how many times he had said that word in the last few hours.

Her face was inches from his. 'Ani -'

Their lips met.

Anakin recalled his first sensations upon his death; the new sense he had as a nonmortal. And then he remembered the return of his mortal senses, both wonderful and terrible, sharper and keener than they had ever been in life. And he remembered the pleasurable sensations he had known in life, before half his body had been destroyed.

This kiss was the culmination of all of it. Padmé was the other part of him, the soul that fit his like they were made for each other. No - more like they had grown into each other.

He could sense her protesting at first, but that all melted away. Walls came crashing down, the floodgates opened and the waters rushed out.

He released her at last, giving her a hopeful smile. To his relief, she returned it.

"I didn't know angels could kiss," he said.

"Anakin," was all she managed to get out before bursting into tears.

Alarmed, he took her hand. "It's all right. Don't cry; it's all right."

'I haven't been able to cry since I died,' her thoughts told him. 'Let me do it now.'

If it would make her happy. He shrugged and allowed her to sob as he held her, knowing all too well the welcome release of letting oneself cry.

He was, meanwhile, astonished at what he experienced upon touching her. It was like two pieces had come together, like a completed circle. Energy seemed to flow freely between them, restoring strength to both. Anakin closed his eyes and allowed the peace to come. He knew he didn't deserve it, but if it was given to him, he could not refuse it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gradually his wife's sobs calmed down, and she lay quietly in his arms. 'Ani,' her thoughts whispered, 'is it really you?'

He stroked her cheek. 'Of course it is. Oh, Padmé, I missed you so much.'

'Did you?'

He caught the message in her tone. She wasn't angry, just...afraid of believing again.
'Yes, I did," he insisted. "Please understand: the only way I could do any of the things I did was by crushing every memory I had of you. Otherwise, if I had let myself remember - I never could have been - what I was. And it was you, and all of our family, who brought me back in the end.'

Padmé sat quietly for a moment. At last Anakin heard her thoughts. 'So really there were two parts of you, fighting to gain control?'

He nodded slowly, amazed at how well she knew him. Better than he knew himself.

'I had two parts of me too, you know.' Anakin looked at her curiously. What did she mean?

'One of them was the queen,' she began. 'The one who made the royal decisions, who followed cold, hard facts. That part said you were never coming back; you were gone forever, I had to let you go.

'But then there was the girl, the woman whose heart who held. And that part of me could not let you go.'

Anakin held both her hands in his. 'Padmé, I -'

"It was terrible!" she cried aloud, pullling away from him. "I wished I could forget you, push you out of my life. Death almost seemed a blessing - I thought it would bring endless, wonderfully dreamless sleep. But even that was denied me. I remembered you, and everything you did, as much in death as in life. I could never escape."

She stood up and began pacing about. Anakin worried that he had already destroyed the bond that he had so painstakingly sought to restore. "Padmé," he said again, helplessly.

"And then you came back," she said suddenly. "I had dreamed for it, hoped for it, wished for it with all my heart - but my mind, logical and reasonable, knew it was impossible. Yet the impossible does happen. Anakin," she went on, gazing at him with an almost animal-like fright, "I didn't know what to do. I felt like running into your arms, forgetting the past, forgiving everything. And then I felt like running away, hiding from you, never, ever forgetting or forgiving what you had done."

She sank back down beside him, her franticness slipping away into exhaustion. "But in the end I realized that you had to find me, as you had to find anyone else - including yourself."

Relieved that the anger had gone from her voice, Anakin spoke up. "Yes, I'm still rather confused about all that. Yoda told me I had to find the path to peace of soul. Obi-Wan said I had to take the journey alone." He paused and glanced at Padmé anxiously. "Am I doing all right?"

She laughed lightly and he was delighted to her the musical sound once more. "You look like a nervous little boy."

"I was a boy, for a while," Anakin said thoughtfully. "And then an old man. And -" he indicated his present form - "this. But I still don't understand."

"Don't worry about it," Padmé told him, a smile still on her face. "You don't need to think about it; just let it happen."

"Well," Anakin decided, "whatever's happened so far, I like it. It's brought me to you, and it's made me fell almost alive again."

Padmé's smile did not vanish, but it wavered. "It's not going to be easy, Anakin. I - I'm still hurt."

'I know.' His thoughts penetrated her heart. 'But I promised you I'd never let you get hurt again. That's a promise I'm going to keep.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'You've been hurt too,' she thought unexpectedly. 'I almost forgot that. But you have been hurt, and I'm sorry.'

'I'm sure I deserved it,' he couldn't help thinking.

'You're not the one to decide that, any more than I am, Anakin.' She leaned her head on his shoulder. 'Let's forget the past for now. Part of it, anyway. We can remember what it was like - before. Remember? The day we were married?'

Anakin smiled. 'I'll never forget.'

Together they shared the memory of that one day, no more than a pinprick in the endless fabric of eternity. But to them, it had been an eternity of itself, a day so absolutely perfect it seemed to ensure happiness forever.

"We were so blind," Anakin said aloud, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "We knew everything was crumbling around us, but we could not accept it. I kept denying it, until it was too late."

'Shh,' she sent back, a surge of comfort in her thoughts. 'It's all right. We've both changed since then. We've - grown up. In more ways than one.'

'One thing hasn't changed,' he replied gently. 'I still love you - now more than ever.'

Padmé clung to him almost as though she feared he would disappear. 'I love you, Anakin.' A sob escaped her lips.

'Are you still afraid?'

'Yes.'

'So am I.' He held her tighter, taking in the warmth of her being. He could not exactly explain what he felt, but it was something both physical and beyond physical, a perfect combination of mortal and immortal senses. And he knew that, though his journey was far from finished, he was in the right direction. It had brought him here; it had brought him *her.* Almost alive? No, more than alive.

'Ani?'

'Yes, Padmé?'

'I'm not afraid anymore.'

'Neither am I.'

She turned her face to his. Their eyes met and locked with the same bond as before, but now it would not be broken. Slowly, tenderly, he kissed her cheek. She grasped his hand tightly and sighed, closing her eyes. "So much has changed," she murmured. 'I'm glad it has.' Anakin felt a thrill run through him as she kissed his lips. 'I always loved you.'

He returned the kiss. 'I always loved you. Please believe that.'

'I do.'

The darkness of night closed in around them, cool and crisp. A rush of wind came across their faces.

Anakin slowly opened his eyes. Her face was in front of his as before, her eyes closed, her lips forming a small smile.

But she was not young anymore.

Anakin quickly discovered that he, too, was old once more. He thanked the Force that he and his wife were always somehow the right ages whenever they were with each other. It almost made him feel as though they had grown old together, though he had thrown that chance away long ago.

Now she opened her eyes and blinked as she took in his face. 'Where are we?'

'We've traveled?' He had been so involved in watching her that he hadn't noticed a change in their surroundings. Tearing his eyes away from his wife, he looked around him.

It was a wedding. Not their own, but enough like it to remind Anakin of that day. He grasped his wife's hand tightly. 'Who?' he wondered.

Padmé pointed with her other hand, a wide smile on her face. 'Who else?'

Anakin followed her finger to where she pointed, at the face of the bride. A wave of feeling, bittersweet and almost painful, surged through him as he gazed at his daughter.

'You've come a long way,' Padmé told him, 'if she let you come to her wedding.'

'She knows?' He glanced at Leia nervously.

'She feels,' his wife corrected him. 'She could have kept you away if she wanted to. But she didn't.'

Now a rush of elation swept through Anakin, and he watched with pride as his daughter was married. 'She takes after you, Padmé,' he murmured. 'She's a beautiful woman.'

'Oh, I think she inherited a bit of her stubbornness from you,' she teased.

Anakin sighed. 'I only hope their wedded life will be better than ours was. They've suffered enough already - much of it at my own hands.'

'Quiet, Anakin,' Padmé's thoughts said softly. 'Just remember - our life together isn't over yet. Even after death, there's still -'

'Hope?' Anakin thought back to Qui-Gon's words and smiled. 'Yes, there is hope.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They traveled together, to places familiar and new, watching old friends and new family, witnessing birth and death, love and heartache, pleasure and pain, sorrow and joy. And through it all Anakin felt the peace of his wife's presence, her own scars beginning to heal as she healed his. At times they were uncertain, afraid, confused - but never lonely. And never hopeless. Yet he could see he had a long way to go.

'Padmé,' he sent out to her as they traveled once more. 'I'm sorry. When we were married, I wanted to do everything in my power to make you happy.' His tone grew bitter. 'And look what I did instead.'

'So why don't you try and fix that?' Her answer surprised him. Used to the quiet forgiveness of the Jedi or his mother, he had not expected her to demand retribution.

Then he realized she was smiling. "All right," he grinned. "I see your point. I'm not going to moan about the past, or feel sorry for myself, or beg forgiveness. I'll start over. From now on, I'm going to make you happy, no matter what I've done before."

They had arrived. It was a forest, green and living. It didn't matter where. Anakin and Padmé, somehow between youth and old age, a time both of them had missed in life, turned to each other. Anakin recalled Obi-Wan's words. *You must make this journey alone.* Yes, he had been alone. But now he and his wife were one again. He would never be alone as long as that bond held. He would make sure it did.

"Well," Padmé said, "it's a start."

Anakin offered her his hand and they began walking among the trees. "Yes," he said quietly. "A start."

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