Chapter Text
Dear Queen…
Padmé felt the thorns digging into her finger, then into her wrists, twinning around her body.
If through this wicked warlock’s trick your breath should be taken… a ray of hope there still may be in this…
She struggled, even though she couldn’t open her eyes, even though she couldn’t breathe, briars slicing through her body caging her completely.
The gift I give to thee. Not death, but just in sleep, the fateful prophecy you’ll keep. And from this slumber you shall wake…
All that surrounded her was darkness and pain. Where was he? He said they would go together he said–
When true love’s kiss, the spell shall break.
Anakin! Anakin!
Naboo was a dark land of monster and briar. Empty roads and dark skies without sun or star.
Obi-Wan had been on these paths before, many years ago, a mere boy at his Master’s side, still an apprentice then.
He had been there many times… but all he could think of was the Coronation.
The girl was thirteen years and already stately and regal.
As Jedi, they were to bless the new Queen with gifts toward her rule. Master Dooku granted her the eloquence of speech to lead her people. Master Qui-Gon granted her the bravery to bear the burden of being ruler.
And Obi-Wan…
Obi-Wan never got to give his original blessing.
The door slammed open. Thunder and lightning deafened and blinded those in attendance.
A man cloaked in black appeared, casually walking through the crowd, a nasty red and black bird perched itself on his staff giving Obi-Wan the evil eye.
“How lovely! A gathering of friends and loyal subjects for the crowning of our new Queen.” The man stood in front of the throne now, running a finger through the bird’s feathers. “Even the rabble comes to pay their dues.” He sent a grin to Obi-Wan and his Masters. “Except, it seems your Majesty, that my invitation was lost.”
“You are not welcome here, sorcerer,” Master Dooku stood. He was a tall man, even taller than Obi-Wan’s own Master. Stern and sharp, but he was the most powerful of their number and of the purest fey lineage.
“Oh, so it was on purpose?” the Warlock frowned. “I see… only the rules of the land are that all are invited here when a new Queen is crowned. Tsk tsk. No matter. I’m here now. No need to get worked up, Yan,” the warlock grinned at Master Dooku. “Wouldn’t it set a bad example for your grandpadawan? Fairy-blooded children are so rare these days, you should be careful how you raise him.” There was a devilish look in the Warlock’s eyes that spoke of what might have happened to others of his kin not trained in Jedi arts.
Obi-Wan did his best to stand bravely next to his Master, he wouldn’t look away from the evil man’s terrible yellow gaze.
“So you’re not offended?” the Queen spoke carefully, eyeing the warlock in front of her pulling his attention away from the Jedi.
“Offended? No, I only wish to offer you my gift.”
“No!” Master Dooku and Qui-Gon moved to stop him, but a blast of lightning hit them, sending them flying back.
“The Queen shall indeed rule with eloquence and bravery, beloved by all her people. But, before the sun sets on the day of her wedding, to a prince of the noblest birth, she will lose her breath and die!”
His horrible laughter filled the room. Master Qui-Gon and Dooku were back on their feet to fight the warlock, but he disappeared with another shattering bolt of lightning.
The room was loud with the stunned silence of all the guests that had witnessed the evil man’s curse.
“Can nothing be done?” the Queen’s Governor begged, clutching Master Dooku’s cloak. The Master brushed him off.
“Do not despair,” Dooku intone. “Young Kenobi still has his blessing to bestow.”
All eyes turned to Obi-Wan.
“Then the boy can undo the curse?” the Captain at Arms demanded, towering over him.
Obi-Wan quickly shook his head. “No. His magic is too strong for me to fight. I’m still only a learner–”
“But he can help,” Qui-Gon interrupted gently, putting his hand firmly on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Do your best, Padawan mine.”
The Queen watched as he approached and offered him a brave smile. His Master had always told him their magics and contracts could shape things, but were strongest when the seeds were already planted. The Queen already had bravery and it would only grow in her stronger now.
He awkwardly bowed and tried not to imagine what he must look like. A boy not even of a height with her. Small and unimpressive.
She surprised him by standing and reaching out, she took his hand. He looked up at her. Her makeup was thick and had camouflaged her expression well at a distance, but there was fear there hidden so very well. Her dark brown hair spun in intricate braids, her dress many layers that looked more like armor than evening wear. She met his eye.
“I trust you.”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat.
“Dear Queen… if through this wicked warlock’s trick your breath should be taken… a ray of hope there still may be in this, the gift I give to thee. Not death, but just in sleep, the fateful prophecy you’ll keep. And from this slumber you shall wake…”
Obi-Wan ran through all the binding magic he could. Something that would make his counter-curse strong. Something that the warlock wouldn’t be able to easily break. “When true love’s kiss, the spell shall break,” He ended helplessly. He hated to put the Queen’s fate in the hands of something so fickle as love, but it was one of the most powerful protections against evil there was.
The Queen’s brows wrinkled just a little. He pulled his hand back, embarrassed for his clumsy words. She smiled kindly at him.
“Thank you, sir Jedi.”
He gave another quick bow.
“It will have to be enough,” Master Qui-Gon said coming up behind.
“There are other loopholes as well,” Master Dooku said. He turned to the Queen. “His words mentioned a prince of the noblest of blood and your wedding day. That is simple enough to avoid.”
“Not exactly,” Queen Amidala shook her head. “Palpatine has been waiting for this chance. He made a bargain many centuries ago with one of my ancestors. If no legitimate heirs of my line are born to take the throne, then he will rule this land. That is why female children in my family ascend the throne. So there can be no doubt when possible.”
“It seems he’s growing impatient,” Dooku stroked his beard.
The three Jedi made their way outside as the castle righted itself after the attack.
“I will be staying here,” Master Dooku said. “The Queen seems sensible enough. I will protect her and see if there is a way to avoid this curse. You and your apprentice will try to find Sidious. His evil cannot go unpunished.”
Obi-Wan and his Master spent many years tracking the Warlock. In the end all they found was his familiar who had led them on a wild goose chase for years. The red and black bird, Maul, transformed into a monstrous dragon. His Master fell in the battle, but Obi-Wan managed to slay the beast.
Too late to save his Master.
And just like that Obi-Wan was alone in the world, knighted by his Master’s dying hand.
“Promise me, Obi-Wan. Return to … Master Dooku. Protect the Queen.”
“I promise,” Obi-Wan whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.
Seeing the state of Naboo, Obi-Wan could only guess at the worst. Master Dooku had failed and the Queen had fallen into a slumber. It had been twenty years since the coronation, and from what he could gather from the villages on the outskirts that had not been overtaken the dark forest that had sprung up, nine years since the evil had risen.
They had spent all that time chasing nothing, leaving the Queen exposed, and for what? Only to lose Master Qui-Gon. Was Master Dooku even still alive? They had used to come back to check in, but it had been years since that had been possible.
The loss of his Master still stung. It had been ten years, but it still felt like a fresh wound. And his promise burned on his chest. Getting back to Naboo had not been simple. They had followed that foul bird, Maul to the ends of the Earth. It had taken him many trials to make his way back even with his fairy magic, in fact it might have slowed him down. As a fey-blooded aligned with good, he was obligated to stop and help those that needed it, and there had been many evil creatures and foul-hearted rulers between the ends of the Earth and Naboo.
He took a breath. He needed to focus on what was in front of him. He would fulfill his promise. He would find out the fate of his grandmaster and the Queen, and if he could, he would save her.
He felt misery settle within him. Love’s kiss. Why had he said love’s kiss?
That was a problem for later.
“Boga, let’s go forward,” he patted his varactyl. She waddled forward sniffing the air suspiciously.
“I know,” he reassured her. “But we must go forward. We have promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep.” The Queen could do the sleeping for both of them.
“Are you a fairy?”
The young man was tall and handsome. Curled sandy blond hair and intense blue eyes.
“Excuse me?” She laughed at the young man’s boldness. They stood in the grand ballroom. A celebration of some noble vassal.
“A fairy,” the young man repeated with uncommon sincerity. “The knights say they’ve seen them out in the woods. That they’re the most beautiful beings in the wide world.”
“I’ve met fey-blooded,” Padmé said, relaxing into banter. “Tall old men with beards and…” Well there was the boy with them, who looked at her with such earnest grief and apology when he thought his words were not enough. His eyes had been star-like and his hair a shiny copper. She could imagine him growing into a beautiful man. She could imagine–
“You’re right,” the young man conceded, interrupting her thoughts. “You’re far more beautiful than a fairy.”
Padmé laughed at his boldness. Who would speak to the Queen with such openness?
“What’s your name?”
“Anakin Skywalker.”
“My name is Anakin and I’m a person!”
The waltz grew unbearably loud. She winced in pain.
“Are you okay?” Anakin jumped to her side. She leaned on him, the headache passing.
“No, I’m alright,” she didn’t pull away from Anakin’s firm grip. It felt familiar and safe. The concern in his eyes so genuine. So real. Not the mask one wore before their ruler, but a beautiful openness that was thrilling to see.
He felt like… home.
Fighting their way toward the castle had not been a simple task. The animals of the forest had been corrupted and warped. They seemed determined to impede him. Obi-Wan wrapped a scrape he had received in his last bout. Boga growled quietly towards the darkness that was spread around them. They had found little of civilization. Broken houses with trees shot through them.
“Food have you?”
Obi-Wan grabbed his sword and looked around. He didn’t see anything, but the voice boomed in the darkness.
“A little,” he admitted. Perhaps enough to get him through the forest if he was careful. Boga did fine on the mutated animals, but he had been sick after trying to eat a fang-toothed rabbit. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“A little,” the voice replied. “The beasts here inedible, the flora sickening. Eaten well I have not.”
“I’ve noticed that. Why do you stay?”
“Home this is. Home have you?”
“No,” Obi-Wan replied. “I’ve wandered my whole life. I’ve never had a home.”
There was a chuckle.
“Lost you are,” it said knowingly.
“I’m not lost,” Obi-Wan disagreed. “I know where I am going.”
“Know where you are going, hmm?” the voice asked. “Very good. Very good. The path you have is straight and true. Goodbye.”
“Wait!” Obi-Wan called.
Silence, then. “Questions have you?”
“I know where I’m going, but the path isn’t easy,” Obi-Wan said ruefully. “I know better than to ask about shortcuts, yet my mission has waited far too long, and I fear I’m the only one on it.”
“Oh ho ho. A bold claim. The only hero on this path are you? Many walked these woods. Many more have gotten through. Pure of heart, firm in conviction. Have those qualities do you? Offered me food right away they did!”
Obi-Wan sensed he was being messed with, but didn’t let it bother him. He had met enough meddlesome creatures to know it was better to be polite than to ignore them out of hand. That was how you got yourself turned into a frog.
“I’ve never thought of myself in those terms, and no, I did not offer you food for I have little to spare and you are not starving, only a little hungry.”
That amused the voice. “Just a little,” it admitted. “Food you’ll need to make it through, it’s true. Selfish if I asked for it. Stupid if you gave it. But if you are not pure of heart and firm in conviction, how will you pass?”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “Rather than those things, I have two things others might not have.”
“And those are?”
“A promise and a regret.”
The being chuckled.
“More powerful than goodness, more reliable than conviction. A promise. A regret. Both make fools overreach. Fool, are you?”
“Who is the more foolish, the fool or the one that follows him?” Obi-Wan countered. “You’ve been following me for quite a while my lord.”
Obi-Wan stood, holding his sword, but holding it down. Boga curled around him but wasn’t growling. He petted her with his free hand.
“Lord!” the creature cried. “Lord I am not. Too polite you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan tensed. It knew his name. Names had power in woods like these, especially over fey-folk like him.
“Help you I will. Foolish you are, but clever. Like you I do, and to Qui-Gon Jinn I owe a favour. His heir you are. Receive it from me in his sted you can.”
Obi-Wan waited and slowly a small being came into view. Obi-Wan didn’t know what to make of him. A goblin, or troll, or perhaps a very old frog.
Nevertheless, he named his Master with respect and so Obi-Wan bowed to him as his elder. The little being whacked him with his gnarled cane on the shin for his efforts.
“Ow!”
“Too polite you are, come now, follow Yoda. A safe place for yourself and your steed I can give.
“And information about what befell Naboo?”
“Another favour that would be.”
Obi-Wan considered this carefully. Owing a mysterious being in the dark forest that knew his name was not ideal, but Yoda was also the first being he had met this deep in that would speak to him.
“How did my Master gain your favour?” he asked.
“Cheated at cards he did!”
Obi-Wan rubbed the bridge of his nose, embarrassed. That did sound like Qui-Gon.
“Prove it I could not,” Yoda grumbled.
They moved easily deeper into the forest. Nothing tried to attack, just crept at the edges. Whoever Yoda was, he was powerful and the beasts here knew better than to cross him.
“Then you won’t play cards with me?” Obi-Wan joked.
“Know better I do. A scoundrel your old Master was. A gentleman you are. Far more scheming than scoundrels, Gentlemen are.”
Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he should be offended on his Master’s behalf or his own.
“How do you know me?” Obi-Wan asked. A small light came into focus. They were heading toward it.
“Three favours Qui-Gon Jinn won from me,” Yoda said, moving steadily over roots and rocks despite his cane and small stature. “Came to me he did for a village plagued with sickness. A boy there was, who had the gift of old magic. A fine apprentice he would be, yet fated to die the boy was. Blamed for the sickness. Loved by magic, not by people.” Yoda looked up at him. “Ill-fated. The worst luck.”
“There’s no such thing as luck.”
Yoda scoffed. “Make your own luck you must, Obi-Wan because none you have.”
Obi-Wan only had vague memories of before Qui-Gon found him. His father’s large hands. His mother’s blue shawl. The cry of a baby, younger brother maybe. But that image was quickly swept away by darkness and gnawing pain in his gut. A box. Angry shouts.
Then light. And the arms of Qui-Gon Jinn.
“Changed the apprentice’s fate I did,” Yoda continued. “First favour, a cure for the sickness. Second favour, endurance I bequeathed to you that he may reach your side in time.”
“And he didn’t collect on the third,” Obi-Wan guessed.
“A wise man your Master.”
“That’s why you know my name. You needed it for the spell.”
“A wise man you might be too,” Yoda considered. They reached the light that had formed into a tree of twisted roots surrounded by swamp. Built into it was a small house.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Master Yoda.”
Anakin quickly became a close companion. They would secretly dance in her quarters, or have picnics in hidden meadows. She was sure Count Dooku was becoming aware of their sneaking around, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was in love. For the first time, a feeling she was sure she would never feel after the Warlock’s curse.
“I want to be with you forever, Padmé,” Anakin said softly, sadly.
“Why can’t we be?”
“One day you’ll marry a Prince and I’ll just be me.”
Padmé laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“I can’t marry a Prince,” she admitted. Although the curse had been very public, Dooku quickly went about with a memory charm. No one but her and the three Jedi would remember the curse laid on her–and of course the one that had cursed her.
“Of course you can, you’re the Queen,” Anakin grumbled.
“If I marry a Prince I am cursed to fall into a deep endless sleep,” Padmé said. It sounded like something out of a fairytale.
“What?” Anakin’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
Padmé explained the curse to him.
“And yet, I need to have heirs or our Kingdom will fall to the very warlock that cursed me,” she finished. “Count Dooku has been trying to find answers, but for now he says it's safest if I avoid marriage. If I’m not to be married, then my breath can’t be snatched on the day of the wedding. Simple.”
“Who did it?” Anakin asked angrily.
“An evil man. You don’t have to worry Anakin. I wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what?”
Padmé looked down. “I wouldn’t want a Prince if it would mean losing you.”
“You’ll never lose me. I won’t let him take you from me.”
“Him?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, I love you, ” It echoed over and over. A memory, a feeling a–
“I love you too.”
Despite the cramped quarters, it was the first time since entering the Dagoba forests that Obi-Wan had felt safe. Boga was out back and Yoda gave his word that she would be safe. As soon as she was tied up she looked relaxed and content, curling up happily into a ball, so he trusted Yoda knew his business.
Still, there was the question of getting information.
“What kind of favour would you want in exchange for information?”
“Like you I do, strong you are… forty years of service should do.”
“Forty years!”
“Generous I am being. Defeat Sidious as you are, you cannot.” The old being puttered around what Obi-Wan assumed was his kitchen. “Teach you I can. Forty years it will take. Patience you need.”
“If I stay here forty years I doubt I’ll have enough strength to help Naboo.”
“So strong you are now? Lack wisdom you do. Foolish. No plan. No information.”
“Information only you can give me,” Obi-Wan frowned. Perhaps the old being still held his Master’s tricks against him. Well… two could play at that game.
“Forty years is the price. Unless alternative you have. See you fall to Sidious I would hate. Grudge he has against you.”
“Against me?”
“No more will I say. Take the deal. Or leave it.”
“... I have an alternative.”
“Oh?”
“My strength versus your wisdom,” Obi-Wan said. “You think to save the Queen I don’t need my strength. Give me a task and I’ll complete it. If I do, you’ll tell me all I wish to know, and if I fail I’ll serve you for the next forty years.”
Yoda gave him a cruel grin. “Agreed.”
She felt something sharp pressing against her body, but when she opened her eyes she was in bed, Anakin holding her in his arms. She relaxed, kissing his cheek. Her Anakin.
“It was Dooku. He did it. It was all a trick my love. You’re free. I saved you!”
She blinked at the ceiling. Was that a… memory? No. It made no sense. It must have been a strange dream.
“We can be together now.”
She gazed at Anakin in the moonlight. They were together.
So why did he feel so far away?
And so smotheringly close...
Obi-Wan knew what he was getting himself into, but it was still misery. He stood in the soft swamp ground, slowly being pushed down into it by the boulder he held on his back. Yoda sat across from him, crosslegged looking very smug indeed. Obi-Wan agreed that he would hold the boulder from sunrise to sunset without losing his grip and letting it fall.
He steadied his breath. His arms ached and his shoulders screamed. It had only been an hour, but he was in pain in the first five minutes.
It didn’t matter. He would hold the boulder.
“Give up you can,” Yoda suggested.
“Imfine.”
Yoda giggled.
“Punishment my offer is not,” Yoda said a few hours later. “Complete your training I can. Your braid cut too early it was. Skills as a Knight you have. Skills as a Fey-Blooded are incomplete.”
“I acknowledge that,” Obi-Wan wheezed. He shifted carefully finding a stable position again.
“Died too soon your Master did. Lamentable it is. Talent you have, but teacher you have not.”
“I would be honoured, just not at the moment.” There it was. Balance. He breathed in and out deeply pushing through the pain of his numb arms.
“Go now and your training will never be complete.”
Obi-Wan didn’t answer. Only focused on holding the boulder.
Midday Yoda crawled onto him, making him groan. He poured water into his mouth. Obi-Wan drank greedily as he continued to mind the boulder.
“Good, very good,” Yoda mused. Instead of climbing off him, he climbed up the boulder to sit on top and add extra weight.
Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and readjusted.
“Strength is good, but can strength defeat Sidious? To him an entire kingdom has fallen. Knights, royals, peasants all. Ready, you are not. Pierced by his thorns like all the others will be your luck.”
“I make my own luck,” Obi-Wan rasped. “Remember?”
Yoda chuckled. “Long the day is, Obi-Wan. Time to think you have.”
Obi-Wan didn’t think actually. He meditated, focusing on his breathing. In and out. Hold the rock for one minute and if he could do one minute he could do a minute more. He just had to do a minute. That was easy. And if that was easy another minute would be easy as well.
“Qui-Gon Jinn’s tricks I sense in you.”
The sun was slowly sinking. Sweat drenched Obi-Wan’s entire body and his arms were shaking. He couldn’t block out the pain anymore, but he had to keep going a little longer. Just a little longer.
“You’re cheating,” Yoda declared.
“Prove it.”
Yoda grumbled. He gave a little hop on top of the stone but did nothing else. Only waited.
Finally, the last gleam of daylight was disappearing.
“It’s a matter of pride, Master Yoda. You already lost when you agreed.”
Yoda hopped off the boulder and watched him curiously.
Finally, the sun dipped below the horizon. Obi-Wan let the boulder fall and then collapsed on the ground himself. Tears slid down his face from the terrible cramping pain. He screamed out in victory from the ground.
Yoda smiled and waited patiently while Obi-Wan pulled himself up to sitting position.
“Bet on your own strength you did not,” Yoda said.
“Right, I bet on yours. You granted me endurance. You were betting against yourself the entire time. If you wanted me to lose, you should have had less certainty in yourself when you cast your boon all those years ago.”
Yoda laughed uproariously.
“Fool you may be, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but a clever fool you are. Clever enough to defeat Sidious perhaps. Drag yourself in. Tell you what I know I will.”
Someone new was approaching. Someone new was coming to take her from him.
She felt at a distance. Echoing voices surrounded her, and the thorns. The thorns wrapped around her imprisoning her.
“There is something,” Lord Palpatine said from a distance away “But it would be … no, I shouldn’t say.”
“Tell me. Please Master. Please tell me how to save her!"
Anakin...
“She was doomed to sleep forever by the Jedi. If you killed the Jedi… then perhaps she might be free from her curse.”
No, that wasn’t true. Don’t listen to him Ani–
“The Jedi… you mean Dooku?”
“The signs are there if you only look.”
No, that wasn’t true! That wasn’t–
“I’ll do whatever it takes, Master.”
“Very good my boy. Very good.”
This is the story of Anakin Skywalker.
Who was a slave all his life as far back as he could remember.
Never knowing of his royal heritage. Never knowing of the fairy blood running in his veins and the magic that was a trap.
Qui-Gon Jinn knew that lineage was a trap. He had always known. The blood that flowed through him, his Master, and his student, it had given them traits, but it had not made them good. It had not made them loyal. It had not made them servants to their kingdom in order to enact good.
Alone without him, Obi-Wan Kenobi would have either died a witch or, if somehow he had survived the box they had shoved him in without light or food, if he had broken his way out and made it to the shelter of the woods. If he had survived, then he might be some cruel monster feasting off the misery of travelers right now.
He would be good at it, Qui-Gon thought with wry humour. His Padawan had a way with words. At his most pedantic he resembled well a fairytale creature asking riddles in the forest.
All this ran through his mind when he met Anakin Skywalker. There was something of him that reminded him of Obi-Wan. The danger of him. The light of him.
He was held in the arms of a peasant woman, Shmi, who had no magic in her, only sense. So she had never spoken her truth to anyone save the man in front of her. She let everyone think the babe came from a cruelty, or a shame.
“They were light,” she tried to explain. “They loved me and I them. We were wed. But something happened. They had to leave. They said they would come back for me and the baby. That we might be together. That they had made me their Queen.”
Qui-Gon’s stomach dropped.
Queen.
Fey did not lie so straightforwardly, and Fey were hierarchical. There were few that would claim themselves royalty among them.
And he looked at the two-year-old in her arms who had never met his other parent.
“The King probably still intends to come back to you, but I’m afraid a moment to them is several generations to a normal man. You will not see them again, Lady Shmi. I’m sorry.”
She was brave, and she had known the truth before it was told to her. The question was only for an ending to the dreams of what if. She could move on now.
Qui-Gon looked to Anakin, the purest Fey-blooded you could ever find. A Princling who would never wear a crown.
“I can take him. Show him our ways.”
Shmi shook her head. “No. I did not approach you to give him away, but thank you for telling me. We’ll head south from here. There is someone waiting for me there. Someone I owe an answer to. An answer I can give them without guilt now.”
Tatooine.
“Be careful in your journeys,” He bowed and that was that.
He briefly considered the potential of Anakin Skywalker. Prince of the Sky itself. Half-Fey, a Prince without land. He considered the danger of him, and he yearned that he could have brought him into their fold. Taught him beside Obi-Wan.
But he wasn’t worried really. His mother loved him. The cruelty Obi-Wan faced, and the cruelty his own Master had saved him from was not the fate of the sky-touched child.
Monsters are not made through love, he foolishly thought.
Darkness. Darkness. Holding hands.
“We can be together.”
Her wedding day.
If the evil warlock was dead, then Naboo was safe. She was free to marry anyone she wanted, even a former slave from Tatooine.
…Former slave? Wait…she knew that. When had she forgotten?
“I love you,” Anakin said. Like he always did. And held her. She rested her head against him.
“I love you too.”
Palpatine beamed at them, but there was something insidious about his expression.
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. How breathtaking.”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe–
Not death, just sleep–
Obi-Wan–Obi-Wan! Anakin!
She struggled furiously. This had all happened before. Happened differently. Anakin was a boy when they met. He had been Palpatine’s serving boy. They had gotten to know one another, fell in love, they–
This was a dream!
Thorns wrapped around her tightly. She struggled to wake up. To open her eyes, but there were only memories and darkness that only became darker, reacting to her panic.
“Please!” Anakin’s voice cried from all around her. "I'll protect you. Let me protect you."
Then, another memory. Not her own.
“Well,” Palpatine said, slowly walking into the little house, his friendly smile beaming under his black hood. “I thought I would be catching the fey-brat, but instead it’s my traitorous apprentice.”
Anakin struggled against his bindings furiously.
“I won’t let you hurt her!”
“My dear boy, her death was a prophecy, one that you could never hope to break. It was mine after all.”
“No!”
“That’s right. You thought you were saving her, but you were her final doom. I thank you for your help.”
“She’s still alive!” Anakin growled.
“Yes… she sleeps,” Palpatine sighed regretfully. “That foolish boy had some luck in how he chose his words, but it doesn’t matter.”
Palpatine dropped his glamor and the kindly old advisor morphed into the Warlock, Sidious who had doomed Padmé at the start.
“No!” Anakin yelled furiously still trying to escape the monster’s clutches.
“A shame, I was hoping you might join me, but then…” The smile on Sidious face was ugly. Pitch white, wide yellow eyes, no mirth or joy, just a cruel malice. “Perhaps I can help you, Anakin. You were always a favorite of mine. So useful, you do deserve a reward for all your help. Giving me Naboo. Getting my revenge for me… yes. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”
Anakin stilled, breathing rapidly as the warlock approached.
“You shall protect your true love. Protect her from all the princes that would wake her with true love’s kiss.” Sidious said. “After all she’s yours. How could you let anyone else have her?”
“You–”
“True love beats within your heart, but those that love will let love go, your heart is far too stubborn though. Any love for Padmé true should be a thorn inside of you. Possessive blades I gift to thee to cut down those that would steal thy Queen.”
Sidious laughed as Anakin’s body erupted with briars pulling out of his skin, his hair, his throat until there was nothing left of him but bloody thorn and bramble.
“A shame though,” Sidious said mockingly. “Like this, you won’t be able to kiss her.”
His awful laughter echoed in her ears and she cried realizing what it was that was holding her.
“Anakin! Anakin let go!”
“NEVER!”
The Thorns twisted possessively around the castle and spread out from there winding their way through the surrounding city.
They moved like a furious serpent hindering Obi-Wan wherever he stepped. They were made up of the darkest kind of magic. Sidious’ work to be sure.
Boga growled ferociously her feathers flaring as a vine snapped forward towards Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan’s sword slashed through it, but it didn’t stop.
“Go!” he ordered.
They could only go forward. His mount was not built for power, but for her agility. She slipped her way through the tangling mass of vines. He guided her so that they would twist and get in the way of itself.
Obi-Wan observed even as they ran and saw that the vines ignored Boga and aimed at Obi-Wan each time, angrier at the human’s presence than at his steed.
“Right, darling. Head back to the edge of the woods,” he whispered in her ear.
She screeched angrily in response knowing the meaning of his words as he knew hers.
“No argument. You’ll only get tangled.” He leaped off her and tumbled deeper in, slashing vines as he forged a way forward. It was grueling work, and the thorns were clever trying to wind around him and overwhelm before he could shear his way through them.
Exhausted he finally pushed himself into a sturdy house that hadn’t crumbled yet and barricaded the door. He needed to rest and work out his way forward. He could hear the grinding of thorns around the stone building. It would not last, but it would give him time.
It was then he noticed the child on the floor in front of him. His heart jumped. Dead, he thought but looked again.
No rot, no decomposition, cheeks far too rosy.
He hesitated and then went down beside her putting a hand hovering over her mouth and felt a steady breath.
“Asleep,” he muttered. Yoda had said Dooku had done something. Was this it? A sleep as deep as the Queen’s?
Grandmaster what did you do?
He doubted he had the power to reverse it. Yoda wasn’t wrong. He had completed his training as a knight and had become a master of unbinding contracts, but the level of magical intent was done before death. He could feel the finality of it. The anger his Grandmaster had felt as he had laid the… the curse.
Not a boon, not even in the most charitable light. He had cursed them out of malice, not out of protection.
The building gave. Obi-Wan quickly shielded the girl with magic. Once he was sure the rocks wouldn’t land on her he was off like a shot.
“YOUWILLNOTTAKEHERFROMME!!”
There was a scream on the wind, not loud, but Obi-Wan could feel the anger that drove it. He looked around, but couldn’t locate where it had come from. The blasted thorns were at him again.
“What’s wrong?” Padmé watched her husband as he stared stormily into the distance at the lake below. His anger was electric on the air. It was so unlike him. He had his moods, but never like this.
He gripped the balcony and didn’t turn towards her.
“Nothing,” he claimed.
“Anakin,” she reproached. She wasn’t blind. She approached and gently stroked his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” She repeated, softer.
The cloud of menace rolled off of him like a fog. He startled at her touch and he turned to her, finally meeting her gaze.
For a moment his eyes reflected a crimson gold.
“Anakin,” She repeated. So scared for a little trick of the light.
But he was her Anakin and he looked so remorseful.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?” She asked. “If there’s anything wrong I want to help.”
“I know, I just… I shouldn’t have been cold. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and my attention drifted from that.”
She laughed, still unsure how he managed to seduce her with such awkward honesty.
Perhaps because she felt something similar. She wanted to hold on to him tightly and not let go. She didn’t know where the feeling came from. Everything was good. Peaceful.
So peaceful. Like they were the only two left in the world.
She thought of their meeting at the ball. The music, the movement, but… was there… actually people there?
She had been worried about something hadn't she? Not long ago?
It didn't matter. She hugged her husband and he bowed around her, a total protective embrace.
She looked out over the water. The birds fluttered down to greet her.
She thought of Obi-Wan.
Padmé had always looked forward to the days Qui-Gon and his apprentice would return. It warmed Count Dooku’s temperament for one. He had been growing colder by the year, but Qui-Gon knew how to shake the man out of his dark tempers.
Padmé couldn’t blame Dooku of course. He was trying to protect her. See that Sidious’ evil words would never come to pass.
Chancellor Palpatine, always kind and sympathetic patted her hand. Told her not to worry for him so. He was a Jedi after all. The darkness would never overcome him.
But more so than Dooku’s distemper, she longed to see Obi-Wan.
Padmé had been crowned at thirteen, and even before that was fated to be a lonely child. She had an elder sister, but Sola had an adventurous heart, often sneaking down the wall of the castle to meet friends in the town.
It came to a head when she fell in love with a Merchant’s son.
It had sealed Padmé’s fate.
Sola had gone with the Merchant’s family escaping her responsibilities and letting it fall to her younger sister who was kept in a pretty cage so that her sister’s mistakes could not become her own.
Even more heavy was the expectation and the duty. Padmé knew her sister’s story by heart. Knew her parent’s feelings. Knew her people’s feelings. She was the last chance. She had to be Queen. She had to have an heir. She had to make sure their land would not fall into the hands of a monster.
And instead of trying to teach her how to rule, she was taught the histories of failures her family had committed. How to be proud. How to be unforgiving. How important it was to find her match. Of pedigree and lineage.
She was a poor student.
One day in the library free of dust and murmured words at her little desk at ten years of age she thought of how her ancestors’ tree resembled dog breeding charts.
“A pedigree bitch,” she grumbled childishly when she fell upon her own name.
“Sorry?” the startled voice made her jump. No one was supposed to be here.
But there was someone. He awkwardly stood not far from her in a dark brown cloak looking as uncomfortable as she felt.
He came to his senses and bowed, realizing who she was.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” he said. “My Master requested I get him a book. I didn’t mean to interrupt your studies.”
He had to be around her age, but despite his childish voice, he spoke like an old man.
That’s right the Jedi had come. Padmé had been so interested, but of course, had been forbidden to skip her studies.
“Are you a Jedi?” She asked before he could politely excuse himself.
“Oh, yes?” He asked listlessly, his bright blue eyes moving toward the bookshelf and the mission he was neglecting.
“You travel a lot then?” She continued aware of his antsy posture and ignoring it entirely.
“Yes,” he said. His fingers fidgeted under his wide sleeves.
“Have you been to Alderaan?”
“A few times.”
“Are there lots of merchants there?” That was where she was sure Sola was. If she could just track her down maybe she could get out of this sterile library and go out into the sun and meet the people she was supposed to be protecting.
“Yes, lots,” the Jedi answered a little shortly. “I’m rather, busy, Princess.”
There were few things Padmé had, but rank was a powerful motivator. She hated to use it as it was often used against her, but there was no way she was letting the fascinating boy escape her.
“You serve the throne though, don’t you? It will be my throne one day,” she did her best impression of a courtier.
The boy froze, looking caught.
“I don’t… technically we don’t…we serve the people…” he began, but knew that if she made a fuss about him being disrespectful his Master would no doubt tell him off. He had the look of a naughty child that wanted to be good.
Like a mirror.
He sighed and looked around.
She watched in fascination as he went to the window, struggled to push open the heavy glass pane, and held out his hand. A bird boldly landed on his outstretched palm.
“Could you please let Master Qui-Gon know I’ll be late? I’m entertaining the Princess.”
The bird twittered, and Padmé could have sworn it held an amusement at the boy’s expense. Then it flew off presumably to carry its message.
“That was magic?” she asked straight away. Forget Alderaan.
“What? Of course not,” The boy said defensively as if she had accused him of stealing treats from the kitchens.
“Then how did you talk to the bird?”
“By speaking?” he said losing a little bit of his affected poshness as a childish sarcasm swept in.
It delighted her.
“But you can’t just talk to birds,” she informed him. Information that he should probably already know.
“Of course, you can,” he argued dismissively. He crossed his arms and then quickly adjusted to hide them under his wide sleeves.
“Can not.”
“Can too!”
“Show me then,” She hid her triumphant smile behind her fan.
It was a move she had learned from her sister. Seeing the magic was what she really wanted, not arguing about the voracity, but Sola said that men love to prove they can do things. Just give them the opportunity.
And then Sola showed her how to artfully hide her expression behind her fan so that the twinkle in her eyes wouldn’t be spotted.
“Alright, come here,” he gestured her towards the window, his awkwardness gone replaced by irritability. He didn’t try to hide it now that he was annoyed with her. It was an expression so rare that she wanted to tease him more, but she didn’t want to push too much for fear he would change his mind about showing her the birds.
“What’s your name?” She asked.
“Obi-Wan,” he grumbled. She didn’t introduce herself, he knew who she was and the joy in eschewing etiquette was far too wonderful to spoil it now.
She watched in fascination as he reached out his hand again and a robin pecking on the lawn nearby noticed the gesture and flew up.
“Hello there,” Obi-Wan said to the bird.
The bird tweeted. It really did seem like it was greeting him in return.
He looked at her pointedly.
“Oh, where are my manners,” she said. “A pleasure to meet you …sir?”
Obi-Wan nodded.
“Sir Robin, I am Her Royal Highness Princess Padmé Naberrie, Heir to the throne of Naboo. A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she glanced smugly at Obi-Wan at her politeness to the bird and not to the Jedi Apprentice.
She caught a little upturn of Obi-Wan’s lips, but her focus was quickly back on the bird when it seemed to tweet back in reply. His little head dipping down like he might be bowing.
“He really understands me!” she said in surprise.
The robin tweeted a goodbye and flew away from them.
“Where’s he going?”
“We interrupted breakfast. He’s polite but he doesn’t really have to care about titles and royals,” Obi-Wan said with a bit of haughtiness.
Unlike some people, Padmé wanted to poke, but didn’t. “It’s because you’re here though. You’re a Jedi. Maybe you’re not doing magic, but you are magic.”
Obi-Wan scratched his chin, an affected gesture that he copied from his master she would realise later.
“No,” he decided. “It’s up to them who they speak with.”
“So that’s why the birds are so enchanted by you.”
The corpses told him he was getting closer to something.
These were bones, picked off flesh from the rats that had made their homes among the thorns. Fine silks stained by age and muck. Jewelry worth thousands of times more than the village he was born in.
He had never seen so many crowns. All different shapes and sizes. Colours and designs. Twists of silver. Simple golden circlets. Black iron. Rubies. Plain.
“Pure of heart, pure of conviction, dead as doornails,” Obi-Wan summated dryly.
There was a snort that startled him badly. No one alive had been in the room, he was sure.
He twisted around before spotting the dark shape that had been in front of him. A Knight.
His armor was the purest black. Only the light of Obi-Wan’s sword’s reflection had revealed him.
The Knight was wrapped tightly in the thorns, hanging a few feet above the ground.
“You’re alive?” Obi-Wan asked in amazement.
“...For now,” the Knight rasped ironically. His breathing was loud. In and out, very deliberate. Like it was a labour to do so.
Obi-Wan approached carefully. The thorns had lessened their barrage now that he was within the walls of the castle, but every so often they went for a surprise attack.
“That’s how most of them died,” the Knight said between his laboured breaths. “The thorns caught them and sunk into them. They bled out or they died of hunger.”
“Your armour’s too thick,” Obi-Wan guessed.
“Do you have water?” the Knight asked, echoing Yoda in the forest not so long ago.
No hesitation this time. Obi-Wan nodded. “And food. I’ll get you down.”
“Really?” the Knight asked in surprise.
“Yes, of course.”
“Aren’t we rivals?”
“Rivals?”
“When true love’s kiss, the spell shall break.” The Knight's voice was deep and lilting as he spoke the words that had haunted Obi-Wan since he had spoken them into truth. “Isn’t that why we’re all here?”
“I…no,” Obi-Wan denied. “I’m a Jedi Knight. I’m not her true love. Now hold still. Alright? You’re a prince then? What’s your name?”
The knight laughed.
“A prince? Yes, of course.”
“Pleasure, you’ll forgive me for not bowing,” Obi-Wan said absentmindedly as he worked out the best way to untangle the Knight from the thorns. “I’m Kenobi, and you?”
There was a pause between those heavy breaths, and then the Knight answered.
"I am Darth Vader."