A/N- This was inspired by one of my favorite songs! I hope all of you like it as well.

Disclaimer- I don't own Star Wars, that belongs to Lucas. I don't own the title Kiss From a Rose…that belongs to Seal.

Kiss From My Rose

He was surrounded by darkness. It was as if he had awoken in the midst of sleeping and yet never really awoke. This darkness was absolute, and it scared Anakin. He had no idea what was holding his heavily armored body up, for it was clear that he was floating.

But then, Anakin Skywalker heard a voice. He didn't know this voice but it was comforting. Hold on, Anakin. You're safe. You'll be with loved ones shortly.

Where am I? Anakin asked himself.

Suddenly it all came back to him. He was dead. Yes, that's what had happened. Great, there's a waiting line for the afterlife. But Anakin didn't mind. This time was best spent trying to remember how he had died. He had killed the Emperor when his son had called to him for help. Yes, that was it.

His son…

Had Luke made it off the Death Star before it had exploded? …Yes, he believed he had. Yes, he was certain. In fact, it was Luke that had burned him. Gave his old father a hero's burial. Anakin knew that he hadn't deserved it.

Luke was the true hero. He had found Anakin deep within Darth Vader and saved him. Obi-wan had taught the boy so much.


He would meet Obi-wan in this afterlife, he was sure of it. Anakin should've been afraid at this prospect, but he wasn't. I'll get a chance to tell him that I'm sorry, Anakin thought. But there are some people he would never get the chance to say that to. His daughter was one…

But what about the daughter? Leia hadn't been his burial. The daughter he had never truly known. Where had she been? With her rebel friends? Perhaps it was just as well.

How had he not noticed that Leia was his? After all, she was so much like her mother…

Her mother…Their mother…

My dearest Padme…

You'll be here too, won't you?

Just like you said you would…

My lovely wife…do you remember the roses at our wedding?

I do. Even though they were dying, they were still beautiful.

Sleep, commanded that comforting voice. Anakin did just that, without fight. He closed his eyes within his breathing mask and slept.

When Anakin awoke, he found himself in a soft, feather bed. Why did he feel like this was strange?

He walked to the mirror that hung beside the bedroom door. He was as he should be. A man of a little over fifty with wispy, gray hair and thick, dark eyebrows. Why in the world was this feeling of shock running through him then?

He walked up the hall and into the kitchen. There he was met with a great, but pleasant, shock. Padme, her dark hair in curls with wisps of gray in it, was sitting at the small wooden table. Her hands were clasped around a drinking glass, and her eyes were cast down. Anakin coughed slightly, to announce his presence.

She looked up at him.

"You've been sleeping for a very long time, Ani. I'm glad that you've woken up," she said.

"Me too," he said.

Why did he feel as though it had been ages since he had last seen his beloved wife? After all, hadn't he been here the whole time?

End Notes: How did we like this? I know, very fluffy, but it was nice, right? Please R & R! Bye!