ℝ𝔼ℂ𝕂𝕃𝔼𝕊𝕊 ➵ o. kenobi {my only hope; book 2}

【 FIVE 】

     ᴋᴇʀᴀ ᴠᴏʟᴜɴᴛᴇᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏʙɪ-ᴡᴀɴ. She tried to seem offhand about it, but I knew there were two main reasons she was doing so. One, she was determined for me to get some sleep. Two, she didn't want me alone with Obi-Wan. The two of us alone in a room together would end in catastrophe, in one way or another.

So instead, I ended up lying down on a couch with Anakin, trying to force my eyes shut but being unable to.

I couldn't stop thinking about my argument with Obi-Wan. I was still seething with anger--practically dripping with it--yet I couldn't help but regret the words I'd said. As much as I despised how much he'd changed--how much he seemed to have forgotten me--I still couldn't forget him. As our argument played over and over in my mind, I remembered all of the good times we'd had together. How close we'd been ten years ago. How that had all fallen apart.

Anakin didn't seem to be able to sleep, either. His head was resting on the opposite side of the couch as mine, but his feet were close enough to me that I could feel his unnatural stillness. His eyes were open and wide, staring out the large window at the ever-moving cityscape of Coruscant. He was so deep in thought he didn't even seem to notice I was staring at him.

Trying to distract myself from my own troubles, I prodded at his mind a little bit. Padmé seemed to be at the top of his mind for the most part... I could see her face swimming in the depths of Anakin's thoughts... but something else seemed to be bothering him as well. It was a scene; just flashes of it, but a scene nonetheless. There were images... gruesome images. It was a woman... a woman in immense pain...

That's enough, I told myself firmly, and pulled myself out of my friend's mind before I could start projecting new illusions onto him. I could already feel the Force inside of me trying to latch onto Anakin's overwhelming emotions. But whatever Anakin was going through, that was for him to go through alone. Whatever visions he was seeing were his own business, and if he hadn't shared them with me, it was obviously for a reason.

Yet I couldn't help but feel that same pull inside of me--the all too familiar pull of that power trying to front. Like it had with Padmé and Darth Maul, I could feel it threatening to take over...

"Anakin," I said, trying to distract myself, "you look tired. Try and get some sleep."

He hummed softly, not looking over, causing me to wonder if he really had been as oblivious as I thought he had. "I don't sleep well anymore."

I frowned. "Why not?" I could sense feelings of anger and frustration emanating from the young boy. He seemed hesitant to say anything.

Pulling myself into a sitting position, I held my hand out for him, smiling softly. He grabbed it and pulled himself upwards as well, taking a seat besides me. His eyes continued to train out of the window. "It's okay, Ani," I assured him. "You can talk to me."

He was silent for a couple of moments; I let him take his time. Finally he opened his mouth to speak. "It's my mother," he admitted. "I keep dreaming about her, but I don't know why."

I touched his shoulder affectionately. "Dreams pass in time." I let the two of us sit in silence for a couple moments. "I assume the dreams are bad?"

"She's in pain," Anakin murmured. "It's the same image. Always the same. It troubles me."

I stroked his shoulder comfortingly. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Ani. Your mother is a very strong woman. Even if she is in pain, I'm confident she'll overcome it."

The boy sighed deeply. "I'd much rather dream about Padmé." I raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word, prompting him to go on. "I fell in love with her the day I saw her, Emmy. I thought ten years of distance would help, but it only made it worse. I thought about her every moment of every day, and now... just being around her again is intoxicating."