11/22 (city streets) - Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala. WHO: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala WHERE: the city streets WHEN: November 22nd, evening WHAT: arriving with a dash of freaking out just slightly RATING: PG-13 STATUS: COMPLETE
For twenty years, he'd gazed out upon the world through the red-tinted screens within the helmet that confined him. It was his eternal prison and he embraced it, though he felt he deserved far less than what he had been given. Time and time again, he wished that he'd died on that rocky ledge next to the lava on Mustafar - and he would have, if not for the burning hatred he felt for his former master and the sting of betrayal his wife had inflicted upon him. Obi-Wan should've killed him instead of crippling him beyond repair. He'd lost everything on that molten lava planet and had willingly allowed Palpatine to shape him into the monster he had become. It was a half life, but a life, and the only one he really deserved after all that he had done. If he deserved one at all.
He had suddenly felt inspired, as if a revelation he'd known for quite some time now had finally sunk in, and sprung fourth despite his own injuries, taking hold of his Master and throwing him down that tunnel to his death. He'd killed his Master for the son he barely knew and admittedly, didn't really want to. He remembered Luke talking, something about having to save him; himself rambling about Luke being right and to tell Leia he was right...then, everything went black.
Death.
And for a moment, he felt the presence of Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan, and Yoda...and then...
The light assaulted his eyes as he was jolted into some sort of consciousness, and he recoiled into the shadows, hiding from the brightness. Was this the afterlife? Why hadn't he merged with the Force...was it because of all the things that he had done? He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Fate was cruel and it was just.
He took air into his lungs and let it out, waiting to hear the raspiness of his burned throat, to feel the pain in his chest, to hear the harsh release of air from the breathing regulator in his helmet...but nothing of the sort happened.
He was breathing.
The dark lord of the Sith lay there for a moment, drawing air in and out of his lungs. He took joy out of feeling that simple sensation, for it was one he had not experienced since his lungs had been burned by the flames on Mustafar. He could smell - though the sent was rather unpleasant, fumes and what not - and hear, feel, and see...all without the aid of the suit he'd been trapped in.
It was then that he realized he was sitting beneath a tree on a street corner of a city on a planet he did not recognize. Then again, he was not accustomed to looking upon things with un-damaged eyes. He lifted his right hand to--
Vader locked his eyes upon the arm, staring at the dark leather and straps of the glove that covered his severed arm. Glove. Examining the rest of his body, he noted that he was wearing Jedi robes. The same Jedi robes from before he was burned on Mustafar. With his left, he reached up and felt the scar that ran along the edge of his right eye, a wound he'd received from Asajj Ventress.
It was the scream, ultimately, that got her attention.
Padmé had arrived in this strange place without warning and without explanation. She had died, or had been dying, she remembered that much. Her heart had been broken and her will to live had left her the instant she lost Anakin. Her beloved Anakin, oh how she missed him terribly. She had told Obi-Wan there was still good left within him and Padmé believed that with everything that she had inside of her. Yet that simple belief wasn't enough. None of it was.
And she had died... and then found herself here. She didn't know where here was and, truth be told, couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the things she was seeing. This wasn't any world she'd ever been to. There were things here which she'd never seen, clothing that she had never before seen worn on anyone. For all her travels, for all her adventures, the young woman was simply not able to wrap her mind around any of it.
So she'd wandered for a moment, her eyes wide with a mixture of wonderment and fear. Some part of her wouldn't let her completely freak out like she so desperately wanted to do. Some part of her demanded she remain at least relatively calm if only so she could better access this new, strange place and why (and how) she had ended up here. A level head was what was needed to navigate the unfamiliar streets filled with unfamiliar people and buildings and, well, everything. Not a single thing looked familiar.
Except for that scream.
She knew that voice, knew it as well as she knew her own. Her legs were moving, carrying her closer to it, before she could really think about what she was doing. She didn't think when it came to him. She never did. She only felt. And right now she felt that he needed her and there wasn't a single thing - not even his own actions - that was going to keep her from going to him.
Rounding the corner of the street, following her heart even moreso than the noise, she finally spotted him... and immediately came to a stop. The logic of what she had been ready to do finally kicked in and Padmé realized just how illlogical she was being. Illogical and, as much as she hated to admit it, dangerous as well.
She wanted to go to him and throw her arms around him. She wanted to take solace in the safety of his arms and take comfort in the fact that she wasn't alone in this strange place. She wanted to hear his voice and know, know, that he was still the man she'd fallen in love with. The man she still loved with all her heart and soul. She did none of those things, though.
She instead drew in a breath and calmly, almost cautiously, approached him. As she drew near enough for him to hear her, she stopped walking and simply studied him for a moment. Then, she finally spoke.
A bit on edge at the moment, Anakin immediately leapt to his feet and following his instincts, held out his gloved right hand, summoning his lightsaber to it with Force, the blue blade activating as he brandished the weapon at the person who had approached him, who didn't--wait, blue?
For a moment, the Sith Lord's eyes went to the glowing blade, a bit miffed to see the vibrant blue hue it possessed. Last time he saw this particular lightsaber, he'd cut it from Luke's hand - literally. He'd constructed it himself, shortly after the Battle of Geonosis, and used it throughout the Clone Wars up until the point that Obi-Wan had cut it from his own hand and taken it, holding on to it until he'd given it to Luke. Ironic, it was, that both father and son had had the saber cut from their hands.
The moment the sound of her voice reached his ears and registered as being hers, however, the saber deactivated and fell to the ground with a loud clank of metal against pavement. For a moment, he simply stared, blinking a few times as if opening and closing his eyes would make her go away.
But she wasn't vanishing. She was still there.
Balling his fits tightly at his sides, Anakin took a step back and looked up at the night sky. "WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!?" He shouted at the heavens, speaking as if he were still Darth Vader, trapped within that helmet and suit. His voice sounded very foreign to his ears, yet not like he remembered his own voice sounding. He spoke in a slightly deeper tone with a bit of a sharp edge, having been used to speaking that way in order to get the voice enhancer in his helmet to respond.
"I am sorry," he cried. "I did your bidding! I did it! I stopped him. I could've helped, but I didn't. I did the right thing."
Whirling around, he gestured with his un-gloved had at the figure of his dead wife. "Then why, why do you keep torturing me? Don't you think I'm tortured enough!?"
Sinking to his knees, the once proud and feared Sith Lord put his hands over his bowed head. "Just let me die already. That's all I ask." senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
If Padmé had been thinking clearly she would have felt some kind of fear when he drew his lightsaber. The last time they'd spoken he had used the Force against her. There was nothing, really, to say he wouldn't do it again. Yet some part of her knew that she had nothing to truly fear. He'd already broken her heart. There was little more he could take from her, now. Besides that, though, she didn't think he would harm her again. Not intentionally. He was still her Anakin somewhere deep inside.
She did blink and nearly flinch when he gestured toward her, though. She couldn't help it. She didn't flee though - never would she flee - and she didn't back away. She simply stood there with tears blurring her vision and her heart feeling as though it were breaking all over again.
"Oh, Ani," she murmured softly, almost inaudibly, when he asked for death. "It's me. It's really, truly me." She moved closer, close enough to touch him, and slowly knelt down. One hand went out, fingers brushing against his un-gloved hand.
It was Palpatine's doing, she knew that much. It had to be. The last time she'd seen her husband he'd been angry. Enraged. Well on his way to turning his back on the Jedi way. This wasn't that man, but he wasn't her Anakin either. His behavior told her that much.
Who, then, was he? What had happened to him to make him look the part of her husband but with a mind that was so clearly broken? How was he standing before her now, completely unharmed but driven to madness? None of it made any sense yet she knew that Palpatine, somehow, had to be responsible. He was always responsible.
"What has happened to you?" she finally whispered. "What has he done to you?" Her voice was filled with the heartbreak she felt at the sight of such a proud, strong man destroyed in such a terrible way. sithlord ANAKIN SKYWALKER
Anakin flinched when she touched his flesh hand, his mind suddenly coming to focus on the fact that he'd felt the touch. That blocked out all thought and he barely heard her inquiries. Instead he reached out, wide-eyed, and touched his own fingers to her hand, feeling the smooth flesh beneath his own fingers. That simple sensation brought tears to his eyes, for it had been over twenty years since Anakin had been able to feel anything, let alone with limbs that had been taken from him.
He trailed his fingers up the back of her palm to her wrist, stopping and drawing his hand away when he saw the bright white fabric of the gown she wore. Lifting his head a bit, he looked her up and down, arching an eyebrow.
"Hm. That's a new one. Usually my hallucinations stick you in something you've worn around me; and of course, I don't count the time you were wearing Tarkin's uniform."
Stretching one leg out, he draped his fake arm over the other, placing his real hand to the pavement, if only for the sole purpose of feeling the rough surface beneath his palm. He looked suddenly almost, bored.
With a shrug of his shoulders, he declared: "Welcome to hell." senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
For a moment she thought she'd reached him. Her hopes were dashed, however, when he instead commented on her clothing. She hadn't even really paid attention to what she was wearing until he said anything. A quick glance confirmed that yes, she was still in the hospital gown she'd worn when she'd given birth to their children. When she'd died...
His declaration made her blink in faint surprise. Even as broken as her heart was, she felt it break just a little more at his words. "I'm not a hallucination," she stated firmly despite the pain she felt that he'd think as much. "And we're not in hell." She refused to believe that. Absolutely refused. There was some other explanation for where they were. She just didn't know what it was yet.
It was becoming even more obvious that her original hunch was correct. Anakin was not in complete control of his senses. Something had driven him mad and, though she didn't know what exactly had caused it, she would find out and somehow help him. Yet she wasn't going to let him just brush her off as though she was some figment of his imagination in order to keep his insanity at bay. She couldn't feed the illness while searching for the cure.
She studied him for a few moments in silent contemplation. It was possible they were both dead, but that was the most she was willing to concede and she didn't even really believe that either. She didn't feel dead. Shouldn't she, if she were?
"We need to find some answers," she decided finally, standing back up again. Padmé gave him a hopeful look. She wanted him to come with her. She didn't want to navigate this place by herself and she didn't - couldn't - leave him here when he was in such a state. "Please, Anakin," she implored, "We need to know where we are, at the very least." sithlord ANAKIN SKYWALKER
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" He roared, jumping to his feet and starring at her angrily when she'd called him Anakin. He pointed at her, looking slightly frightened beneath the outrage he felt. "That is not my name. That man was a pathetic weakling who couldn't do anything right. Not even when I let him out after his constant string of pleas did he succeed. We didn't even die. Instead, we were brought here - wherever the hell here is."
He crossed his arms, looking bristled, "Good job, Skywalker. You fucked up again." senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
And for the first time since she'd encountered him here on this street, Padmé was truly frightened. Not for her own safety but for him. He wasn't just insane, he was quite possibly past the point of being helped. Even by her.
A part of her wanted to yell back at him, wanted to make him see the truth rather than the madness his mind had him trapped in. Yet she refrained. She didn't know if yelling would only result in angering him further rather than helping reach him, so she stayed her tongue and decided on a new course of action.
Without warning, without preamble, she covered the distance between them. "Would a hallucination do this?" she questioned with a determined expression... and pressed her lips against his. It ached, oh how it ached, to feel him against her again and know that he might very well shove her away at any moment. Yet she hoped that the part of him that was still Anakin would respond to the bond that existed between them and the love they shared. sithlord ANAKIN SKYWALKER
Whatever he'd been expecting what he thought was a hallucination to do when it began walking towards him, it was not this. His eyes went wide when she leaned in towards him, ready for the image of her to fade away like it did every single time he tried to kiss her. However, that didn't happen, and when her lips touched his, he found himself moaning against her lips - half at being able to actually feel something against his lips and half at touching her lips. Her real lips.
Anakin's anger instantly melted away, his confusion forgotten about, as he brought up his flesh hand to touch her cheek, still basking in the fact that he could touch things and feel them, for his sense of touch had been diminished by the fires that consumed his flesh. Slowly, he began to respond to the kiss - almost shyly, though, as if he'd forgotten how to kiss over the twenty or so years since he'd last been able to to kiss his wife. Figment of his imagination or not, he was going to take advantage of whatever the hell this was, the dragon's protests be damned.
His gloved arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing her body against his so that he could feel all there was of her. False feelings or not, it made her seem all the more real to him. He continued to return her kiss, flesh hand sliding into her hair to toy with her locks as he attempted to deepen the kiss by running his tongue along her bottom lip, unsure of how far this--this--whatever she was, real or hallucination, would allow him to go. senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
The moan helped heal the aching in her heart, as did the feel of him responding to the kiss. By the time he'd pulled her against him and his hand was in her hair, Padmé was so caught up in the moment that everything else faded into the background.
Tears slipped from her eyes, now shut, wetting her cheeks as her relief and happiness nearly overwhelmed her. Her Anakin was still there. His mind may be injured but it wasn't fractured beyond repair. They were together again and this time they'd stay that way. She'd make sure of it.
The feel of his tongue against her lip made her gasp and she allowed him to deepen the kiss, her own tongue snaking out to meet his. The taste of him had changed but he was still the man she loved. The fact that his mere embrace helped fill the gaping hole in her soul was proof enough of that.
Her own hands slid up his arms, one resting lightly on his shoulder while the other went to the nape of his neck. After a moment, however, the noise of the city began to permeate her senses and she realized that they were leaving themselves quite vulnerable in strange, foreign land. Gently, reluctantly, she broke off the kiss and leaned her head back enough to smile up at him with watery eyes.
"I've missed you," she whispered, the hand that had been holding his head now going to his cheek. Tears blurred her vision despite the smile on her face. "I knew you were still in there, somewhere. I knew it." A sob sounded in her throat and she stopped speaking, leaning forward to rest her cheek against his chest. His heart beat solidly beneath her ear. Yet another sign that they were very much alive and together, as they were meant to be. sithlord ANAKIN SKYWALKER
Anakin held her to him, glancing around for some sign that he was dreaming or hallucinating, but that didn't appear to be the case. He'd kissed her and it felt real. No fake kiss could illicite such a response from him, such a tingle in the pit of his stomach, or craving in his gut for more. No, no one could do that. Only her.
Drawing back some, he looked down upon her, eyes full of confusion. "Why...how?" He ran his flesh hand along the side of her face, pushing his fingers once more into her hair. "I killed you." senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
Killed her? He hadn't... Padmé slowly, almost reluctantly, lifted her head from his chest and peered up at him with a confused look on her face. "You didn't kill me," she replied, the tears having stopped due to the shock of what he'd said. "Anakin, I simply gave up. I couldn't fight anymore, I couldn't stand the pain of knowing I had lost you. Knowing that you were out there and I'd never be with you again, it was all too much to bear." She stopped there, wanting to say more but not trusting herself enough to do so. There were so many conflicted emotions coursing through her. Relief, fear, sadness, joy... all of them were combining together and making it increasingly difficult for her to think clearly.
"It doesn't matter," she finally decided. "We're together, now." That was what was truly important. Even determining where they were, how they had come to be here, was irrelevent at this point. They would deal with it in time. Together, as they were meant to be.
Still, reality wouldn't quite let them go just yet and Padmé realized as a light wind blew across the street and through the tree they were standing beside, that it was growing dark out, and with darkness came a drop in temperature. "We should find some sort of shelter," she pointed out sensibly. She wasn't dressed for adverse weather conditions. "Then we can see if we can learn some more about this place." Yet even as she said the words she couldn't bring herself to release him. She could only stand there and hold onto him, her gaze never faltering from his and her love for him shining brightly in her eyes. sithlord ANAKIN SKYWALKER
Anakin drew away, fixing her with the most serious look he could muster without appearing angry. "Do--please do not call me that. That name bothers me. It's not who we are anymore. He's... Just please, don't call me that. Anything but that."
He stood there for a moment, looking away and closing his eyes. When he opened them and looked back, he half expected her to be gone and to have Palpatine standing in her place, pointing and laughing at him for believing that his poor, dead wife would ever come back to him. But, she was still there. That fact continued to amaze him, even in his mentally unstable state.
Noticing the cool gust of wind, he shrugged off the cloak that covered the Jedi robes he was stuck in and draped it over Padmé's shoulders. He then wiggled his fingers and summoned the dropped lightsaber back to his hands, hooking it back on his belt. Taking her hand in his flesh one, he gently pulled her alongside him, determined to seek out shelter, just as she had advised. senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
Padmé felt like raging at him that he was still very much Anakin Skywalker, no matter how much he might want to deny it, but she bit her tongue. Technically speaking, she supposed, he was right. Clearly some part of his own mind loathed that identity and was doing everything it could to avoid any association with it. Except for being with her.
It made very little sense to her, but she supposed if madness began to make sense then she was in real trouble. So instead she remained silent and smiled her thanks when he draped his cloak around her. It even smelled like him and she basked in the scent that was uniquely her husband's for a moment before following him down the sidewalk.
"What am I supposed to call you?" she questioned evenly, after a moment of silence. She cast a glance at him, wondering if that, too, would earn her a serious-bordering-on-angry look as well. Not that she cared. She wasn't about to run around calling her own husband 'hey you' or some such nonsense.
Padmé was so busy studying him, trusting him to get them to somewhere safe to the point that she wasn't paying much attention to their surroundings even, that she didn't notice the trio of men who had stepped out a good dozen or so feet in front of them. She wouldn't have paid them much mind even if she had noticed them, either... until one of them spoke.
"Senator Amidala, we'd like a word with you, if you've a moment." sithlord ANAKIN SKYWALKER
"Ani," the nickname left his mouth before he really had time to think about it. "Call me that. I have no qualms with that name, as long as it's you addressing me by it. Only you."
He caught her eyes when she looked at him, bringing his flesh hand up to touch the deliciously soft skin of her cheek, when an unfamiliar voice spoke up, 'causing the man to move in front of his wife and draw his lightsaber on the man.
"Who are you?" He demanded in the booming Vader-like voice. "State your business with the Senator." senator PADMÉ AMIDALA
Padmé smiled softly, considering it at least a partial victory that he'd agreed to let her use her nickname for him. Her gaze locked with his and leaned lightly into his touch, only to start slightly at the sound of her political title. She turned toward the men only to find herself blocked by Anakin's much taller frame.
Peering around her husband, she studied the three men with a carefully guarded expression. One of them was cowering. There was simply no other way to put it. He was visibly trembling and she assumed he must be the less experienced of the trio. The second one looked wary but stood his ground.
The third one, meanwhile, seemed to take virtually no notice of the lightsaber and seemed, if anything, almost bored by the entire situation. "My name is Clayton Daniels. These are my associates. We are here to offer the Senator an opportunity to help both of you, as well as the others who are here, facing the same confusion and displacement as you are."
Padmé felt her stomach drop clear to her feet and she gently placed a hand on Anakin's arm, calmly stepping out so she was beside him. "What sort of opportunity?" she questioned evenly, her expression revealing very little about what she was feeling. Sometimes becoming a politician at such a tender age had its benefits.
The man offered her a smile and polite bow of his head. "The liaison between our firm - Wolfram & Hart - and the people in this city who are arriving here without notice or explanation. They require guidance and a voice to speak on their behalf. We believe you are perfectly suited for the position."
Padmé stared at him for a long moment before casting a glance to Anakin, a mixture of frank curiosity and bewilderment shining in her eyes. These men seemed to have the answers they were searching for. The only question was, did she want to strike a deal in order to find out what they were?