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But she was already shrinking from his arms, sliding from the bed and folding her wrap about her against the chill of the ship's night-cycle.

"I'm fine. It was just..." She didn't finish--but then she didn't need to. He knew.

Every night now--every night the nightmares came...

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Days passed in a blur of pain, never a moment's respite. And always the guards, minds blanketed with violence and hostility. Then the Emperor, cursing and cajoling, capricious and volatile, hard and spiteful and cruel.

Then the guards returned.

Then another day, exactly the same as the last.

Then another day.

Then another.

The dreams were sharp and barbed now, like claws scratching at his sanity, like the Emperor's nails dragging across his scalp when he trailed those skeletal, bone-white fingers through matted hair.

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Bright-white light bled into the sun-bleached memory of Beggar's Canyon on Tatooine, towering above the distant dunes.

A child again, no more than nine or ten, Luke sat at the very edge of the precipice, legs hanging over the sheer drop, heels kicking at the canyon walls, dislodging fine pebbles which fell into distant darkness far below, a fractured fissure of cold, parched, lifeless rock which never saw the light of day.

A shadow fell over him, the baking heat momentarily chilled, and he turned, squinting as the twin suns flared a corona behind the form of a boy of his own age, unfamiliar though his clothes were similar to Luke's own, dusted with desert sand, his mop of brown hair bleached pale by twin suns.

He didn't look at Luke, but instead stared beyond, intent on the dark depths of the chasm, fascinated...

Luke leaned forward to look over the steep precipice, morbid curiosity calling him on. He leaned further, trying to see what held the boy's attention so completely...

The deep canyon fell into eerie darkness, wind whipping the baked sand into dust-devils. He glanced back, but the child was gone and the summer sky had turned to night, familiar stars glinting through velvet black.

Far below he heard a howl, wild and primal, sending a shiver down his spine and dragging his eyes back to the canyon floor where a deep, fast-flowing river had replaced centuries-dry stone, stars reflected and distorted in its inky depths, foam whipping white waves up at its edges, a distant ribbon of black against the sheer rust red of the towering ravine walls.

The wind shrieked in a fury now, buffeting him, driving and dragging him, the sand beneath Luke's hands giving no purchase as he tried to scrabble back.

He toppled from the ridge, tumbling forward in freefall, arms outstretched, crying out, desperate for someone, anyone to hear. He twisted as he fell, the night shrinking away, his world, his whole life, dwindling to a distant, narrow slit between the confining canyon, the roar of the river louder and louder...

It hit like a body-blow, the water freezing, shocking, black as ink, the sky immediately lost to its depths--

Hold your breath...

Still he was pulled deeper, whispers of air trailing away from him in pearl bubbles--

Hold your breath...

Down, the freezing, pitch water pressing in on him now as he struggled against its pull--

Hold your breath...

Down...reality long-gone, legs kicking against nothing, no hope of resurfacing--

Hold you breath...one second longer...

His lungs were burning now, no up, no down, no sky, no light, just pitch black--

One second longer...

His chest heaved, desperate to pull in air, fingers outstretched, searching for something...anything--

Just one second longer...

Lungs locked in contention--

Don't breathe...

Don't...

His eyes closed...dizzy and tired, he stopped struggling, stopped fighting, stopped hoping.

Breathe--

With a gasp, he drew in breath...and only the dark water answered, flooding into his lungs to drag him down like a stone...and every last hope fell away with that breath, displaced by the inky, ice-cold water--

He closed his eyes and drowned...

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Leia dragged herself upright, clawing at the sheets and pulling in huge gasps of air, desperate and blind and terrified.

"Ho! It's alright! It's alright Leia. It's alright..." Han had reached up, arms about her, pulling her back to reality as she gasped for air, his voice shocked and reassuring all at once.

"S'okay," he repeated, over and over. "It's okay, Leia. It's alright... It's alright. No one's gonna hurt you. No one can hurt you. You're safe... You're safe...

"You're safe."

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He was shaken awake, hoisted half-upright as his eyelids fluttered open, then dropped to the ground. He curled defensively as he fell, knowing it wouldn't be enough, hearing the hissing buzz of the force-pikes.

The first jolt shocked through the small of his back as he fell, making already aching muscles contract violently. The second hit his shoulder, two more on his arm, cramping muscles, the pain driving the air from his lungs in a gasp.

Too many after that. Too many to register individually as they crowded in around him. Just pain, raw and sharp and hard, taking his breath away, piercing his mind.

"Stop." Palpatine's voice, quiet and calm and cold.

Stop. Luke's breath caught in his throat, muscles contracting involuntarily as if they were still being shocked.

Louder than a scream came the whisper of heavy cloth against the smooth white floor. Footsteps paused close to his head; silence reigned.

Then the rustle of cloth as it pooled against the ground beside him.

"Jedi?"

He couldn't speak.

"Jedi?" A hand brushed oh so gently against his cheek and into his hair, making him physically jump.

"Should they continue?"

The word wouldn't come, but his bloody lips mouthed it all the same: No.

"I think they should." The voice was hard now, disappointed.

No, Master, he mouthed in silence.

He sensed the smile, the gratification.

"Was that so very hard, my friend?"

Long silence, his heart beating hard against his chest.

"Was that so very hard?"

No. His lips barely moved now.

Another pause. He tried to breathe past the pain, to swallow the blood in his throat before it choked him.

"Should I leave, my friend? Do you wish me gone?"

Yes

"Then I will leave you. With them." The heavy raven cloak scratched against Luke's face as its wearer rose.

No, wait...

Palpatine walked on without hesitation--

--Please!--

The footsteps paused fractionally, then continued--

--No...Master!--

They halted; Luke pulled in breath, desperation giving him voice, hoarse and broken...

"No Master. Please...don't leave."

That smile again, searing into his mind. He didn't need to see it, he didn't need to hear it in the Sith's voice. It was burned into his soul.

"I will never truly leave you, my friend. Never again."

His Master turned and walked quietly back, the whisper of that midnight cloak sending shivers up his spine as the Sith crouched low to murmur beguilingly. "Do you wish them to stop? Do you hate them for what they do to you? How you must hate them. How you must fear them. How easily you give them control over you."

--How easily you could stop them-- This last was for him alone. "This is my gift to you, my friend. One that I could not give to you any sooner than this moment. The gift of freedom."

Luke knew that this freedom was also slavery. He no longer cared.