InsaneJournal

By Request
Title: "Hope Rising"
Author: jarkai
Betas: legolad
Pairing: Anakin / Obi-Wan
Word Count: 925


Before Mustafar, Obi-Wan had never believed in Hell.

Finally Anakin released his wife's throat, and Padmé slumped to the ground, motionless. Obi-Wan circled slowly toward her, his eyes never leaving Anakin. After what seemed like an eternity, he was able to kneel at her side. Her pulse was weak, but discernible. She breathed. At the realization, Obi-Wan let loose his own rush of air, realizing for the first time how long it had been locked in his chest. Someone he loved laid still and pale upon the ground. How many years had it been since Theed, when Qui-Gon had died? How many years had Anakin been his apprentice, and after that his partner?

"Don't make me kill you," Anakin ground out, the words more growl than speech.

Obi-Wan felt the weight of his lightsaber at his side, heavy as an old promise. This, he thought, was not what Qui-Gon would have wanted. "I will do what I must," he whispered, drawing and igniting his blade.

"You will try."

Anakin spun, his own weapon coming to life. With a hum, light clashed against light. Groans followed, familiar from both the practice mat and the shadows of their bedroom. Obi-Wan struggled to shut the thought away. Invisible fingers wrapped tight around his throat, followed by metal ones a heartbeat later. He kicked, scrambling, but his body responded even so, the sound that escaped him born of pleasure, not pain. With a smirk, Anakin thrust him away. His eyes were like an animal's, yellow and without mercy, and--gods help him--Obi-Wan could not help but find them beautiful. The next strike missed, but barely. Obi-Wan bit back another cry. He had raised a strong Padawan. Surely that was all Qui-Gon had ever required of him?

A jet of lava spewed upward, startling them. Obi-wan hissed as stray sparks struck his cheek. He leapt for the closest platform amidst the fiery flow. A moment's space to think, that was all he needed. Anakin should balk--but he did not. He landed across from Obi-Wan, making the plank pitch and sway. They stared at each other across the divide, panting.

"I have failed you," Obi-Wan managed, his saber hilt slick with sweat in his hand. "I have."

Anakin bared his teeth, grimacing. "This is the end for you, my Master."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, then raised his saber. Anakin met it ferociously, giving no measure. The determination in Anakin's gaze was clear. Obi-Wan was going to die, and Anakin would be left alone in darkness.

Qui-Gon's dying words echoed in Obi-Wan's head. Look after--

Obi-Wan shot from the platform, spinning through the air until his boots connected with the solid rock of the embankment above. Anakin howled in rage, tensing to follow.

"It's over, Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted over the roar of lava steam. "I have the high ground!"

"You underestimate my power!"

"Don't try it," Obi-Wan managed, shaking. Even in his own ears, he could hear the pleading in his voice.

Anakin leapt, arms high, and with a single thrust Obi-Wan ran him through. How much like Qui-Gon he crumpled, rolling down the slope toward the lava. Anakin's saber disappeared into the flow the instant before Obi-Wan stopped his former Padawan's descent with the Force. Obi-Wan rushed forward and fell at his side.

Anakin screamed.

Let it be over, Obi-Wan prayed. Let the pain wash him clean.

"I hate you." Blood bubbled up past Anakin's lips. Somehow he managed to seize Obi-Wan's tunic, pulling him so close they might have kissed. He coughed and splattered Obi-Wan with scarlet. "I hate--"

Obi-Wan choked, fighting to speak. Overhead, the engines of an approaching starship rumbled. He did not look up; Anakin's eyes were fixed on his, as yellow as before. Obi-Wan found his saber among the rocks. Anakin's passing would be slow and agonizing--death always was, with a belly wound.

Obi-Wan's thumb ghosted over his blade's trigger. Look after--

Footfall echoed on the ridge above them. A loose stone tumbled and struck Anakin's side, and he screamed again. Slowly Obi-Wan slipped from beneath him, turning, his blade ready. He gazed up at Palpatine, unmoving. "You aren't taking him."

The creature's eyes were as golden as Anakin's. "He is already mine," Palpatine said simply, "but he will belong to no one if he dies."

Obi-Wan knew it to be the lie it was. If Anakin died now, he would belong to Darkness.

Look after the boy. Look after the--

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered, dropping to his knees. His saber rolled away, lost. "Master, I am sorry."

Palpatine stepped closer. In silence Obi-Wan pressed his forehead to the steaming rock, the deepest bow he could muster. "Save him, my lord."

The moment stretched. Anakin's cries grew ragged, wet. Obi-Wan grit his teeth, trembling with the urge to scream. A gnarled hand smoothed his hair. Even in this place, thick with the stink of fire and ash, it smelled of rot.

Obi-Wan looked up.

Palpatine smiled. "Bring a med capsule," he called out, not looking back at the troopers he had brought with him.

With a shudder, Obi-Wan pressed his head deeper into Palpatine's caress. Forgive me, Qui-Gon. He could not even say it aloud this time. What strength he had he must save for Anakin, to bring him back. For Anakin was going to live, and that meant there was still hope. Somewhere in the darkness he felt rising, there must be hope.

He would stand by Anakin. Or kneel at his feet. Whatever was required.

He would look after the boy.