In the quiet misty morning, a small family moved through the empty streets. Two adults, two children. The male adult was carrying the little girl, who was fast asleep in his strong arms. A hood was pulled over the older woman's face, reminding her of her days as a handmaiden, when she had worn garments with hoods so cavernous she could have hidden her face in them. This hood was designed to shade her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes. She held the hand of the little boy, who carried a basket in his arms.
It was almost dawn. The sun had just begun to break over the horizon. The woman stopped to look at it. So did the little boy. He grinned so wide his face looked like it was going to split open. "Look, Momma, look! It's the sun!" With an expression of pure joy on his face, he kept staring at the orb slowly coming into view. "It's welcoming us, Momma! Boy, it's sure pretty."
The woman smiled. "Quiet, Luke. We wouldn't want to disturb our new neighbors before we've moved in, would we?"
"I guess not." Luke tried not to frown. His mother squeezed his hand gently and kept walking on the cobblestone street. Each house they passed had him twitching with anticipation. "Which one's ours, Momma?"
"Ask your father, darling," she said. Her other arm reached for his hand, as she'd done a thousand times. She'd forgotten that he was carrying Leia, their sleeping angel, so instead she brushed a lock of her daughter's hair off of her forehead.
"Ask me what?" the man asked.
"Daddy, which house is ours? Are we gonna get there soon?"
The man smiled, a truly beautiful smile, which sent the woman's heart racing. A sense of warmth spread through her body. She'd never gotten accustomed to what Anakin could do to her. She hoped she never would.
"Just one more block," he whispered. The little girl stirred in his arms. Her eyes blinked sleepily, and she reached up to rub them. "Morning, sweetheart," her father crooned. Leia reminded him so much of Padmè, his angel. Same brown hair and chocolate eyes that could make anyone notice them. Fall in love with them.
A few more minutes passed, and Anakin saw the house. It was perfect for them. As a Jedi, he enjoyed simplicity, which was what this house offered. And as much as Padmè had been surrounded by a lifestyle of grandeur, he knew that she too preferred the calm and peace a simple life could give. He smiled to himself and placed Leia down on the bottom of the front steps. Taking his wife's hand, he produced a datacard from his pocket, swiped it through a hidden slot, and unlocked the door. A few taps of a keypad made the door slide open, revealing its inner beauty to the small family.
Padmè gasped. It was perfect, absolutely perfect, down to the type of plants that were sporadically placed throughout the house. As she wandered through it, she kept noticing little things that she knew Anakin had put there just for her: a hand-carved desk right next to a window that overlooked the garden in the back; the scent of her favorite perfume floating through the air; even the patio furniture had been arranged according to her taste. She walked through the pungent backyard. Just beyond the fence, a beautiful lake came into view. Children splashed in the shores while the adults sunned themselves and gossiped on the sand. Some had taken boats to the middle of the water and either fished or relaxed. Padmè wished so badly that she could join them. Nowadays, she could hardly remember what being relaxed felt like.
Anakin came up from behind and snuck his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. She smiled. When Anakin was around, she certainly remembered bliss. Eyes closed, she could clearly recall the day she knew for certain that she loved him. They had been in a meadow on Naboo, this very planet, teasing each other playfully. That had been before the war. Before evil permeated the galaxy, wrapping its tendrils around every being it could reach. "What are you thinking about?" he murmured into her ear.
"You," she whispered. "And how perfect things used to be."
"Correction: how perfect things are. You saved me, Padmè; that was all I needed for my life to become whole. Well, you and the twins. But I swear it, that's all."
Padmè turned her face to kiss him. What had she done to deserve such an amazing husband who loved her and their children more than life itself? She couldn't think of any great deed that she had accomplished, nor of any award she had received. But that was just it, wasn't it? Anakin was the award. And yes, she had earned him, simply by being herself. He had also won something: her heart. She loved him to oblivion, and she knew she could never stop. Seeing him at the Mustafar platform had swayed her loyalty, but only momentarily. He had been dark then. Cruel, scared, and merciless. It had been she who had brought him back to the good, the light, and the wonderful. She couldn't help feeling some pride in herself.
He kissed her back, tender and lovingly. She reached up to brush a piece of ashy blonde hair out of his eyes – oh, those eyes. Their lips met again, and again, until they were interrupted by the squeal of a child. "Ewwww! Momma! Daddy! Luke, they're kissing!"
Padmè and Anakin both burst into laughter. Anakin walked to the little girl and put her on top of his shoulders. She squealed again, this time with delight instead of repulsiveness. "Oh! Daddy, please please please, can we go to that lake? Pretty please, I'll do whatever you want me to for a whole month if we can go to the lake!" She reached out to her mother. "You too, Momma, I promise I'll do whatever you ask!"
"You should be doing that already," Padmè remarked. She grinned in spite of herself. "But…we'll see. Don't you want to see your new room, sweetheart?"
"I get a room all to myself? Without Luke there?" Leia shrieked. "That's amazing! It'll be great to get an entire night's sleep without having to listen to someone's sleeptalking."
"I don't! It's you!" Luke shouted from inside. "You're the one yelling, 'Don't hurt me' five thousand times every single night!"
"Leia?" Anakin was instantly alert. "Who's hurting you?"
"Calm down, Anakin," Padmè murmured. "It was just a dream."
Anakin just got madder. "Like the dream I had about my mother was 'just a dream,'" he scoffed. Seeing his wife's hurt expression, he instantly regretted his words. "Oh, angel, I'm so sorry. That wasn't your fault."
"It's okay, Anakin." Padmè sat down on the brand-new couch and instructed Leia to sit next to her. "Now, darling, what kind of dreams have you been having?"
Leia's lower lip trembled. Oh, my poor child, Padmè thought. I'm so sorry that you have inherited the curse of dreaming your father has. The little girl put on a brave face and tried to explain the story.
"There's a sick-lookin' man in a big robe – no, a cloak – with his hood pulled down over his face. Kinda like yours, Momma, except it's black and ugly." She took a deep breath and continued. "He keeps shooting little sparks at me, except he doesn't have a blaster. It just comes from his fingers. And his voice, oh, it's so awful, and he's laughing…" Leia couldn't hold back her tears any longer. As she started to sob, she climbed into Padmè's lap and buried her face into her mother's soft, sweetly scented hair. Anakin joined them on the couch, wrapping both of them in his strong arms. Luke caught on quickly and snuggled himself between his parents so he could comfort his terrified sister. "It was so real, Momma. I thought I was really there. And – and so was Luke! We were both there!"
Now Luke was frightened. He hugged Leia tighter. "It's not gonna happen. Right, Daddy?"
"Of course not." Anakin's tone was dark. Padmè knew exactly what he was thinking. His face softened, and he stroked Leia's hair. "Sweetheart, we're never going to let anything like that happen to you or Luke."
But could we stop the Emperor? Padmè wondered. Yes, Anakin was one of the most powerful Jedi the galaxy had ever known, but also the most easily tempted. Palpatine had lured him in with the promise of power and control over death. What else could he offer her beloved husband? How else could that wretched man torture him? A fierce determination rose in Padmè's gut. Nothing like that was ever going to happen.
That night, after planning a trip to the lake for the following afternoon, all of the Skywalkers had trouble going to sleep. But eventually they all fell into such a deep slumber not even an alarm could rouse them. An alarm like the one that protected their new home. The piercing noise wailed through the air, but not one of them woke up.
The next morning, Anakin and Padmè awoke to find their children missing.