The next morning, Anakin's presence is choked.
Obi-Wan can feel the tension rolling off of him in tidal waves, crushing everything around him in a heavy smog. It doesn't take much prying into his feelings to see that he's upset, that something horrible plagues him and his thoughts. He's dark and clouded.
It feels as though he's holding one great, anxious breath.
The elder Jedi shakes his head, reminiscing on all the times he's told Anakin to do a better job of hiding his feelings. He's too open about them. He lets them fill up every room, waft over everyone else like a mist, dampening wherever he goes. A Jedi's strength lies in his ability to share when he wants to share, and hide what he must hide. But Anakin's thoughts and emotions run wild as the Kelita River of Mandalore.
"Bad morning?" He says, coming up behind his old Padawan.
The younger Jedi spins around, tensing his shoulders. "Master, good morning. How are you?"
Obi-Wan laughs. "I was just about to ask you the same thing. You seem troubled, Anakin. Your emotions are all over the place."
"Oh, no, I'm alright. I slept badly last night, that's all."
"Bad dreams?" He inquires.
Anakin looks away, overcome with something Obi-Wan can't place.
He can tell that whatever it is that's bothering his old student really has shaken him. He's never been the most introspective, his head was always up in some imaginary battle, even as a child. But Anakin's face now is solemn, and his eyes are an enormous blue, deep as oceans, and darker than any tide Obi-Wan has ever seen.
"Master, if you suspected that something horrible was going to happen—you weren't entirely sure—but you had reason to believe that it would, you'd do everything you could to make sure it didn't. Wouldn't you?"
"Riddles? Come now, what's troubling you?" He pushes. "You've foreseen a tragedy?"
"I had a vision," He says quietly, his composure shifting uneasily at the mention of it. "Something that I can't let happen."
"Well, sometimes these things must happen, we don't always understand why. Visions aren't always given to warn you for the purpose of prevention. Sometimes it's just so that you can prepare."
"No," Anakin says sharply. "Not this one, Master. It's Circe. I think she's in danger— I don't know why yet, but something will happen."
He breathes a sigh of relief. For a moment he feared the younger Jedi had truly seen something of importance, but it is just a boy's anxiety for his friend's safety.
"If it's Circe, you needn't worry. She's strong. There's no stronger Jedi in her class."
Anakin's eyes turn sharp and angry. "You're not listening!" His words echo throughout the empty stone hall.
Obi-Wan frowns at the tone in his voice.
"You don't understand what I saw. This is real, Master. And we can't just sit here and do nothing about it. We have to make sure that the vision doesn't come to light."
"What would you have me do?" He asks, crossing his arms across his chest.
Anakin pulls back. He's given this much thought, and it's now or never to ask.
"Ask the Council for a squad of Troopers to look after her."
Obi-Wan stares at him. "Anakin, I'm not asking the Council to waste our troops on a fully trained Jedi. Circe is one of our best, she doesn't need protection," He reasons.
"But what if she does!?" The younger Jedi argues. "I saw what I did for a reason. And I can't let it— I won't let it come true."
"Anakin..."
He looks up, a desperate fire in those hazy blue eyes of his. Desperate and furious. "Don't act like I don't know what's best for her! I know her better than any of you do, and I know that she needs protection!"
"You think a group of bodyguards is going to keep her safe?" Obi-Wan grows impatient. "How do you think she'll take to that? You'll offend her, Anakin! She doesn't need a group of Troopers to do what she already does every day."
"Don't tell me you're just going to do nothing!"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you."
"She's in danger!"
"She can protect herself—"
"AND WHAT IF SHE DIES!?" Anakin shouts, balling his fists. "She can't, Master! I don't— if she goes, then everything else— it doesn't mean anything! I can't do this if she's not here, and you KNOW THAT, and yet you stand there and say you'll do absolutely nothing?!"
Obi-Wan is silent for a moment before responding. "Anakin, dreams come and go. They all do. This vision will pass, and you will see that there was never a reason to be worried in the first place."
"You're wrong." He shakes his head like a child. He is jagged like a cliffside, sharp and defensive, as unwilling to listen as the sea is to be still.
"Circe can protect herself. And I won't waste troops for this, no matter how distraught you are. You're losing yourself over nothing, I promise you."
He stares defiantly at his old Master. "If she gets hurt—if she dies—like I'm telling you she will, I will never forgive you. I will blame you for the rest of my life."
"Go. Train, Anakin. Your head is off in a fantasy world, and I need it back on your shoulders," He scolds, turning away from his student.
Anakin clenches his jaw, overwhelmed by a feeling of powerlessness. As his old Master walks away, he curses under his breath.
What is he going to do? His dream was real. He knows it, sure as he knew he'd win the pod race that freed him on Tatooine, sure as he knows the Force.
The thought of living in a world without Circe drains him of all sense and reason. It's like trying to imagine living without sunlight, without water, or air to breathe. Circe exists as an extension of himself, and he of her. There is no one without the other, he knows it.
What he saw was given to him deliberately. It wasn't some preview of what's to come so that he can accept it and move on. This isn't destiny, it's not set in stone. This is something he must change. And he needs to change it now.
The sudden presence of an older figure disturbs the air behind Anakin, a shimmer in the Force alerting him that he's not alone.
"Well, I certainly wouldn't expect to see a Jedi and his Master speak that way regularly," A voice sounds.
He spins, coming face to face with the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. Palpatine stands a tad shorter than him, his older body layered in fabrics of rich plum and copper colors. The Republic's emblems hang across his chest, strung along a thin, gold threaded chain.
Anakin has never been this close to the Chancellor before, and never alone. He is overwhelming for reasons the Jedi can't quite explain. In the way he stands, in the very way he smiles, Anakin can tell this man is highly aware of the power he wields. It suddenly reminds him to speak.
"Chancellor, forgive me! I was not aware that—"
The older man waves his hand to silence him. "No need, Skywalker. I was passing by on my way to meet with the Council when I overheard your conversation with Master Kenobi. Is everything alright?"
He flushes. How is he to explain his situation the Chancellor without sounding like a foolish child? He knows he sounds crazy, Obi-Wan took no time in proving that.
"You're reluctant to share, I understand. I think I heard everything I need to know. You're worried about your friend."
"Yes, it was a vision," Anakin says slowly, "Master Kenobi thinks that it's just a manifestation of my anxiety, or a passing fear. But I can't ignore it, regardless of if it turns out to be nothing more than a dream," He answers.
The Chancellor smiles. "It's refreshing to see someone so devoted to their peers. The Order has been changing while I've been in office, but I am heartened to see its youth is still on the right path. You asked Master Kenobi for Troopers to protect your friend, yes?"
"I did," He says quickly, "But I understand the answer he gave. Using troops on personal matters is unprofessional. It was a moment of weakness."
Palpatine laughs quietly to himself, and Anakin feels his defenses dropping. It is strange. He feels as though he could've known the Chancellor all his life, despite only speaking with him a handful of times. The older man straightens his sleeves and his cufflinks, which are decorated with a gold thread and several tiny, expertly cut jewels, jingle merrily around his wrists.
"My boy, there is nothing weak about trying to protect those we love. It is one of the most admirable traits a person can have. I can see you love this person a great deal. It is all around you, in your voice when you speak of her, and I can see it in your eyes," Palpatine says.
His face flushes again, so hot that he's sure he's turned a bright pink. "It is not the Jedi way to—"
"Oh, nonsense. We all love, Skywalker. It is in our DNA. And regardless of your feelings or personal involvement, you needn't worry. I will give you the squad."
Anakin is not sure which part of that sentence to focus on first.
"Sir, I can't possibly—"
"I have some jurisdiction over the military, and it would be no harm for me to deploy a small squad to protect your friend. If what Master Kenobi said is true, it sounds like she's a valuable asset to the Jedi Order. It is worth a few Troopers to protect someone like that," He explains.
Anakin feels like he's dreaming. He must have gone back to his quarters and dozed off, nothing else could explain why the Chancellor stands before him, offering him his troops.
"I don't know what to say, Sir. You have no idea what this means to me," He says, "I was worried that you'd think I was crazy for putting so much weight on a dream but... you have believed in and comforted me. I'm in debt to you."
"Ah, please. You flatter me, but I'm no saint. I will send the Troopers over as soon as I can and hopefully you can rest easily at night knowing your friend is protected. As for your debt, I'm sure one day I'll need some odd favor that only a Jedi can handle. And I would be most satisfied to trust you with it," He smiles. "I must be on my way, but it was a pleasure speaking with you, my boy. You are a refreshing voice in my tired days of politics."
"Thank you, Chancellor. The pleasure is mine," Anakin returns, watching in disbelief as the older man turns from him and heads down the hallway.
Circe is safe now. He's done it. She'll never face the threat he dreamed of and finally, Anakin can breathe again.