He was falling, from what or where he didn't know… but… falling.

    He was dreaming, there was no other explanation for it.


   Any moment now, he would awaken in his familiar bunk in the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan

would be calling  to him to get up before lunchtime…



    The sheets were too soft.




    Anakin struggled against the pull of the dreams, but sleep wasn't ready to

relinquish  its hold on him just yet. He groaned, feeling pressure on his chest and his…  his…


    His arm.


    Gone, lost to Dooku…

    And Padmé…


     He snapped himself awake, sweating. There was pain in his arm… or where his arm

should have been. Angry,  sharp pain, almost unbearably so.  Only the pressure on his

chest distracted his attention from it. Pressure caused by…


      He lay there for a moment, almost afraid to breath, lest she vanish into the haze of

 sleep and dreams when suddenly, with an unladylike grunt and sigh, she rolled off of

him. Fully awake now, as dream women certainly did not 'grunt', Anakin lay there for a

little longer, watching her breathe. 

        The memories came flooding back in a rush. They had traveled  to Geonosis, to save Obi-Wan…  there had been a terrible, terrible battle and her pledge of love. He had nearly lost her, not to the arena beast, but to an accident of war…

        In his heart of hearts, he knew that despite Obi-Wan's admonishment, he should

have gone back. Had he known for sure that Padmé had been safe, he would have been

less out of control when they had confronted Dooku. Less… 

        Unable to save his real arm, he healers had been quick to fit him with the prosthetic.

He flexed the fingers experimentally and winced as the pain shot through the remainder

of his upper arm. He briefly considered the  Force-infused pain medication the Healers had given him before they had left  yet set the thought aside for now. He wanted his head clear for at least a little while and although he knew he would need to take it very soon, it could wait a little longer.

         Padmé. She had been briefly admitted to the Healers Ward to tend to the wounds from the Nexxu, but as soon as she had been able, she had insisted on assisting the beleaguered Healers. He knew that it was, at least in part, an excuse to be near him but her innate kindness and need to serve were so ingrained into her very being that she would have insisted on being there in any circumstance. He stroked the top of her head with his real hand, savoring the sensation of her hair against his fingertips. The very nearness of her was almost too much to bear, and although it was now his very right to touch her, he found himself almost…  No. Right now, but for the very real need to get up and relieve himself, he would have been content just to lie here next to her and watch her sleep.

           Sighing, Anakin disentangled his long legs from Padmé's (who had immediately wrapped her ankles around his the moment she had resettled.) and got out of bed. Out of comfort rather than any false sense of modesty, he picked up the silky robe that had been flung haphazardly over the chair the night before. As he had done with her hair only moments before, he lightly traced his fingers over the veil of her wedding dress before making his way to the fresher.

           As he came out, he paused again, just to take in the vision of… her. She lay there, blissfully unaware, with one arm cuddling her pillow close, the other tucked under her head. Her hair was a  tousled mess, so unlike her normal stately bearing yet he found this much more alluring. Once again he found himself questioning how or what he had done to deserve the love of this woman. His Angel…

        Snapping him away from his  reverie, his arm suddenly flared in pain and he bit back the scream that wanted so desperately to escape. Anakin gripped the side of the chair, willing the pain to subside long enough for him to hold it in and after what seemed like an eternity, it released its hold at last. Reluctantly, he wandered over to the dresser to reluctantly prepare the infusion that would ease the pain, but rob him of any lucid thought for the next several hours.

          Stirring the powder into a glass of wine, he let his thoughts drift back to the journey back to Naboo.  They had traveled using a small chartered ship, unescorted and quite alone. The fact that the Separatist movement had escalated into a full scale war had not diminished the danger, yet all available fighters had been assigned to other sectors. The Chancellor, once again proving his faith in Anakin, had assured the Council that the young man was more than capable of completing his assignment.  If Obi-Wan had had any reservations, he had mercifully kept them unexpressed, perhaps even understanding that Anakin needed this expression of confidence from himself as well.

         The trip itself had been an almost dreamlike experience. The pain from the implants had been unbearable at times and it had been only at Padmé's insistence that he had taken the infusion that he was preparing for himself again now. The fear had been palpable for him. To take the sedating medication was to render himself helpless, a thought that absolutely horrified him. To relinquish control, to be at the mercy of everything else… Anakin shivered at the very memory. They had argued passionately about it… a ridiculous fight that belied their real fears yet in the end, as he had know would be inevitable, he had capitulated to her. It had been when he had been in that drug induced stupor that they had summed up the courage between them to discuss their future; how fraught and unsure it was, how one could not bear to live without the other… The discussion that had brought them here. To this point. Joined.

        Anakin stood at the window and sipped the drink slowly. The  clouds that had gathered and stormed last night (almost in tandem to their lovemaking, he thought wryly) had slowly dissipated  and the Naboo sky was full of stars. When he had been a child, he had told anyone who would listen that one day he would visit 'every one of them.' Ironically, as a Jedi Padawan under Obi-Wan he had visited many of them but now as an adult, it no longer held the allure it once had. Now, on the cusp of war and separation and adventure, he only wanted peace, and stability, and Padmé. He had the one; surely now the rest would follow eventually.

        With the pain in his arm setting down to a dull ache that was fast dissipating, and already feeling sleepy, Anakin let the robe fall off and set the glass down.  Slowly he settled back into bed next to Padmé. Although he tried not to disturb her she sighed, rolled over and finally propped herself up on her elbow. Despite his rapidly deteriorating consciousness, he found the sight of her bare body so close to his incredibly enticing. He slowly raised his leaden arm to clumsily try to stroke her cheek. Padmé looked up, saw the empty wine glass and smiled, understanding.

         She slowly lowered herself down to cuddle next to him again. They shared a tender kiss and he closed his eyes. She whispered in his ear "Goodnight, husband…"and he smiled as he spiraled back towards the depths of sleep.