Anakin knelt on the cold floor. His eyes were open, but they didn't see. He didn't see the straw and skin hut he knelt in, nor did he see the candles flickering or the shafts of pale moonlight flooding in through the hole he had cut. Most of all, he didn't see Shmi, her bloodied and broken body limp in his arms. He didn't see her scarred and battered face, the result of weeks of beatings.
The minutes slipped by as he knelt there, immobilised by an unfathomable loneliness, an overwhelming sense of futility. The binary suns of Tatooine continued to burn and the galaxy continued to revolve, yet Anakin lay frozen, untouched by the passing of time.
Not until moonlight gave way to sunlight and the crimson light of a new day crept across the floor, nudging against his face did he even remember where he was. Yet he still could not move, nor did he know why he should.
He retreated into the pulsating eddies and flows of the Force, opening himself to its caress. His conscience expanded, slinking through the walls of the Tusken hut. He swept through the minds of the two guards on the door and continued, sweeping outwards. Something grew inside him. A meaning, a purpose to an otherwise empty existence; a raging inferno that sung through his veins, fuelled by the broken body of his mother. Rage.
Completely immersed in the power of the Force, Anakin rose from the ground; a single fluid movement. A moment later, he was at the door. A thought and it shattered outwards; nothing against the fury of the Force. His lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss. Left, right. Without conscious thought or effort, the two Tusken guards crumpled. The flame only burned brighter.
***
Halfway across the galaxy, the Jedi temple recoiled as a wave of impossible power swept through the Force. Cries of hate and vengeance overwhelmed even Master Yoda. Past Masters, now one with the Force, cried out, but above their symphony of pain, a single voice called, "No, Anakin! No! Don't! No!" It was the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn.
Padmé gasped, dropping the wench she was carrying.
"Are you alright, Miss Padmé?" asked C-3PO.
"I... I'm fine," she managed as her senses were overwhelmed with Anakin's anger, pulsating waves of loss, of pain and suffering. The flood opened something inside her, something she'd pushed away and locked up. "We can't live a lie" she told herself without conviction.
***
The Force had never flowed so strongly through him. Anakin revelled in its power. A blast of energy obliterated a line of huts. A flick of a wrist sent a fleeing group of Tusken women and children slamming into the staves of their mates and fathers. His blade whirled, a whirlwind of blue death.
There was nothing left. Each and every Tusken lay slaughtered, and he was left empty as even rage abandoned him. Overwhelmed by the sudden loss, he collapsed into the bleached sand, alone.
***
"He's back! He's back!" called Beru from the doorway.
Padmé rushed out with C-3PO right behind her muttering, "Oh dear."
They caught up with Beru outside along with Cliegg, his hoverchair knocking things out of the way. Padmé scanned the horizon, shielding her eyes from the dual glare of the Tatooine suns. She finally marked the black dot that was Anakin, rushing toward them. As the speck grew into a distinguishable form, she realized that he was not alone.
"Shmi," sobbed Cliegg.
Beru sniffled and Owen laid his arm across her shoulders, holding her close to him. Anakin stepped off his landspeeder. Silently he moved to unstrap his dead mother, lifting her gently and cradling her in his arms. With a glance at Cliegg, he disappeared inside.
The thing that struck Padmé the most was the expression etched deep into Anakin's face, an expression unlike anything she had ever seen on the Padawan: part rage, part grief, part guilt and worst of all, defeat. She knew Anakin would need her, and soon. But she had no idea what she might do for him.
***
"I brought you something to eat."
Anakin didn't even look up. "The shifter broke," he explained, far too intensely. "Life seems so much simpler when you're fixing things. I'm good at fixing things. I..."
Padmé watched as the hydrospanner dropped out of his hand and she realised he was on the verge of collapse.
"Why did she have to die?"
Padmé slid the tray down the workbench and moved behind him, encircling his waist and resting her head comfortingly on his back.
"Why couldn't I save her? I know I could have." Anakin's voice grew stronger.
"Annie... you did everything you could." Padmé squeezed him tighter. "There are things no one can fix. You're not all powerful."
He pulled himself out of her embrace, his face slipping into a mask of despair. "No... you're right. I'm not. I'm useless. What's the point? How can I be the Chosen One if I couldn't even save my own mother?"
"Annie... please." Padmé had never seen him so beaten. "You've already done more than any Jedi could have imagined. You're the only human ever to have won..."
"So I could go and leave my mother here to die!" Anakin spat. "And I couldn't even save her from a group of primitives."
"Annie..."
"Don't!" he roared. "What's the point?"
"Please An..."
"Why do you care anyway?" he demanded. "You can always find another Jedi guardian, one who can do their job."
"Annie. I..."
"Stop calling me that!" he roared. "You don't..."
"I love you!" Padmé cried.
Silence, broken only by the thudding of their hearts. Anakin stared at her.
"Please... I've been dying a little each day since you came back into my life," Padmé whimpered.
He reached out to hold her but quickly jerked back.
"You said you have more important things to do than fall in love," he muttered.
"I... I..."
They embraced. Padmé sagged against his chest, her warmth and softness easing the pain inside him. She looked up into his eyes; her diplomats mask stripped away with her confession of love. Waves of peaces swept through Anakin. He gazed down at Padmé lying limp in his arms. He was the strong one again.
Their lips met in a soft and gentle kiss, one that lingered and deepened. One that said years of carefully restrained emotion in that single moment. And in that kiss, every barrier, every layer under which both of them had locked away their feelings disappeared. Every reason, every justification that had seemed so real mere minutes ago melted away; intangible memories of a long forgotten dream.
They breathed in, each relishing the scent of the other. Padmé felt her heart stop as his tongue slipped into her mouth, making her knees grow weak. She closed her eyes and melted into Anakin, pressing harder against him.
The kiss became more urgent as they continued silently pouring their hearts out to each other. Padmé felt a rush of heat surge through her body as Anakin continued to explore her mouth, years of pent-up emotion and desire igniting a raging inferno deep within her.
Anakin groaned, feeling himself harden against Padmé. The Force sang with their overwhelming passion as their tongues continued to duel. Subconsciously he reached out and locked the door, levitating the tray of food off the work bench as he collapsed back on it.
He moved his lips lower, sensually grazing the skin of her neck. His fingers wound themselves through her elaborately styled hair, brushing the Force through her luscious curls and allowing them to cascade down her back. She could hear his ragged breathing as he moved closer to her ear, her entire body on fire as he continued to caress her.
Padmé began to undulate in response to his tantalizing closeness, grinding her hips into his. Anakin's strong body echoed her movements. His lips moved urgently, his arms pressing her tighter against him. He brushed across her throat, eliciting a soft moan as her head spun. The only thing left in Padmé's universe was the feel of his firm lips and hot breath, brushing and teasing and moving.
Padmé found her hands grasping at her waist, fumbling with the belt that held his tunic closed. Anakin smiled, filled with warmth as he effortlessly unclasped the clip with the Force and allowed his tunic to fall away, layer by layer. He continued to sway, grinding their hips together as he held her close.
Padmé gasped as his undershirt slid off his muscular torso, fluttering to the ground. She found her gaze drawn to his ripped chest, glistening with sweat. Yet another wave of desire swept through her as he broke away. Even as she opened her mouth to protest, his fingers found their way to her stomach, goosebumps marking their path as they brushed softly against her exposed skin.
In a display of Force mastery and finesse, Anakin lifted them both, spinning their entwined bodies and laying Padmé gently on the workbench. His fingers dipped underneath her top, making their way up. He rubbed his entire hand across her bare skin, creeping all the while higher.
In an agonizingly pleasurable movement, he slid his hand over her firm breasts, flicking her top off with a fluid motion of his wrists. She moaned as she felt the warm Tatooine air brush her erect nipples. She bit back a yelp as she felt his mouth on her nipples, teasing the small rounded nubs. His tongue flicked the exposed nub, sending sparks of pleasure between her legs., He rolled her other nipple between his calloused thumb and index finger, eliciting more moans of pleasure.
He continued to move down, the Force clearing the fabric of her pants out of his way as he left a trail of kisses down her stomach.
