Tags
completed stories, completely random posts, short stories, small rants, song-related fiction, star wars
Hello, everyone!
Yes, it’s another post thanks to the brilliant Iris. She introduced me to this song, and I thought it was the saddest thing in the world, perfect for detailing Anakin Skywalker’s fall to the Dark Side, and Obi-Wan Kenobi’s viewpoint on it. Enjoy!
Safe and Sound
I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said, “I’ll never let you go”
When all those shadows almost killed your light
I remember you said, “Don’t leave me here alone”
But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight
Anakin looked back at his mother as he walked out the door for the last time. Ahead of him, Qui-Gon paused. “Will I ever see you again?” Anakin whispered. Shmi’s faint smile highlighted her wrinkles. Suddenly, she looked old and frail.
“I’ll be fine, Anakin. Follow your dream. Follow your star.”
By the funeral pyre, Anakin stood in the steps, next to the young man who had been Qui-Gon’s apprentice. Obi-Wan Kenobi stared into the flames, his eyes dry, his face undecipherable. Did he even care that his mentor was dead? Anakin doubted it. He and Obi-Wan had barely spoken to each other, and especially not since Qui-Gon had pushed Obi-Wan forward for knighting. It seemed that Anakin’s training was a point of friction between them.
The boy is dangerous. They all sense it, why can’t you?
Anakin closed his eyes resentfully. You don’t even care that he’s dead, he thought at the young man beside him. This is all your fault, and I’ll never forgive you!
As if he was disturbed by Anakin’s anger, the young man suddenly turned toward him. Anakin could feel himself blushing, but he held his ground. “What will happen to me now?” he asked, all the insecurities engendered by two partings close on the heels of one another coming out in his voice. The compassionate look in the young man’s eyes, shadowed by echoes of deep pain, was enough to disabuse him of the notion that Obi-Wan was heartless.
“The Council has given me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi. I promise.”
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You’ll be all right
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I’ll be safe and sound
Obi-Wan rushed to his new Padawan’s room, breathing a prayer to whatever guardian angels might be listening. Anakin’s night terrors were almost worse than his own, but not quite. Obi-Wan’s dream had taken a downward plunge ever since Naboo. He pulled Anakin out of bed, inadvertently dragging the sheets with him. “Shhh, shhh,” he murmured. “It’s all right, everything’s all right. It’s just a dream—it doesn’t have to come true. Skan earr, alir’yana.” He rocked Anakin gently, sending out a silent plea for help. He didn’t know what to do to reassure a child caught in the throes of both nightmare and separation anxiety. He didn’t know how to raise a child, particularly not such a wild and rambunctious one as Anakin. Anakin cried over things that he could not remember as having bothered him, was annoyed by his subtle jokes and resigned patience, and what problems Obi-Wan could remember that he shared with Anakin were ten times worse. Softly, Obi-Wan began to murmur the words of a half-forgotten song. He wasn’t even sure if it was a lullaby; it wasn’t even in Basic. It was just a lilting tune with a plaintive melody and words half-slurred by his own exhaustion, but it seemed to calm Anakin.
In the end, he fell asleep still sitting on Anakin’s bed, half-leaning against the wall.
Don’t you dare look out your window
Darling, everything’s on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold on to this lullaby
Even when music’s gone
Gone
“They’re still there,” Anakin reported. It wasn’t really necessary; the glare of flaring torches was still visible against the back walls. Obi-Wan closed his eyes. It was all in vain. He could still see the flames, burned against the back of his temples. A vicious headache roared to life in response.
“It’s not our war,” he said softly.
“Well, it should be!” Anakin retorted. “We should stop them! We should make them stop fighting!” Obi-Wan sighed.
“Come here,” he said. Reluctantly obedient, Anakin came, leaning against him. Obi-Wan breathed the words of a half-forgotten song under his breath. “Go to sleep, Anakin.
Eight years later, they protected a Senator. Eight years and one week later, war was declared. Eleven years later, they were still fighting that same war.
Thirty-one years later, they would still be fighting the same stupid war.
Obi-Wan stood before the dying twin suns. The journey had come full circle. He was back on Tatooine. This still wasn’t his war. A tear ran down his cheek as he thought of Anakin, his last words before they parted. Three words that had broken his heart and raped his soul, three short words that were slowly devouring him like acid, eating away at his hopes and dreams, beckoning him to despair, three words that were slowly killing him.
I hate you.
Sensing his distress, the child in his arms began to softly sob. Obi-Wan almost panicked, alarm spiking through him. Oh, the bitter, bitter irony. Thirteen years and he still didn’t know how to properly care for a child. Obi-Wan began to sing the words to a half-forgotten song as he walked the long path toward the homestead of his former best friend’s stepbrother.
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You’ll be all right
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I’ll be safe and sound
Sleep was not a refuge. It changed nothing, it fixed nothing. It only could deceive at best, and at worst it would force him to relive the past in a twisted light, look forth on a darkening future in which there might well be no hope left.
Please, change the future. Just once. Please, let me make one difference. I don’t care any more if I spend my life to buy it.
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
La la… la la
La la… la la
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
La la… la la
Just close your eyes…
Let Luke be spared this suffering. Please, take me instead.
You’ll be all right…
Anakin, did you realize that you condemned me along with yourself?
Come morning light,
You and I’ll be safe and sound…
Why, Anakin? Why?
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh
Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh…
I wake up and the world hasn’t changed.
I don’t think that I ever will sing again.
Yep, you’re right, that’s sad. If my computer keyboard gets saline poisoning here I am totally blaming this story.
Wow, it got tears? 0_0 That was better than I was expecting…
I first thought it was sad because it’s kind of like going to bed in the middle of a war–you might dream it was over, but when you wake you find nothing has changed. So, sad.