Traveling Companions
Padmé Amidala Naberrie's eyes scanned the steerage cabin, once again taking in the sight of a wide variety of people hoping to find better lives in some other part of the galaxy. She had known since childhood the difficulties refugees faced; seeing so many of them now was an unsettling reminder of the Republic's destabilization. If war broke out between the Republic and the Separatists, the refugee problem would spiral out of control.
Padmé sighed deeply. That's why it was so important for me to be on Coruscant for the vote. She hadn't gotten over the disappointment of having to go home at such a crucial time. It infuriated her that those behind the attempts to silence her through death or intimidation had essentially succeeded.
A warm, gentle hand rested reassuringly on her shoulder. "A credit for your thoughts."
She turned to her traveling companion, smiling at her shyly. Things had been awkward between her and Anakin since their last meal when he mentioned he'd dreamt about her. To be honest, things had been awkward on consistent basis since encountering him again. Padmé didn't want to be that way; he was after all charged with protecting her life for the time being. She needed to feel as comfortable with him as she felt safe. Besides, he was her friend and she valued their friendship.
"I was just thinking about these people on the ship with us and how there could be millions more like them if things get any worse," she said. "It's why I didn't want to go home."
"You'll have another time," Anakin said sympathetically. "You wouldn't be able to help anyone if an assassin..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.
"I know," Padmé said with resignation. "It's just so frustrating."
"I definitely understand that feeling." Once again he fixed his hypnotic blue eyes on her and for the umpteenth time Padmé found herself unable to look away. How did he ever get such beautiful eyelashes? she thought.
Artoo's beeps and whistles broke the spell. Both Anakin and Padmé turned to the astromech. "I wish I had someone to translate," Anakin said.
"I recognize the pattern of sounds at the very least," Padmé said. "He does that to let me know when my normal sleep cycle on Naboo begins." She was in the process of readjusting herself to local time in Theed.
Anakin quickly rose to his feet and held his hand out to help Padmé stand. Once she was up, she began to follow Artoo to the berth assigned to her and Anakin. Then, for the briefest moment, she felt him touch the small of her back. Trying not to blush, she quickened her steps to put a little distance between them. But with his long stride, Anakin remained right behind her. She realized it was his usual courtly behavior and she knew they were after all masquerading as a couple. But even the simple, seemingly harmless gesture sent jolts of electricity through her.
They reached the bunk-little more than a metal slab-and Padmé removed her elaborate refugee's headdress and the outer layers of her dress. Her hair hung loose and free, but she was still clothed from neck to toe. She removed her slippers and lay down on the bunk.
Since the bunk could not comfortably fit more than one person, Anakin and Padmé took shifts sleeping. He generally stood watch while she slept. "Good night, milady," he said, settling in beside the bunk on the floor.
"Good night, Ani."
After sleeping dreamlessly for a while, Padmé's eyes fluttered open. Artoo was at the foot of the bunk, keeping his own watch over his mistress. Anakin sat against the wall with his eyes closed. It took a few moments for Padmé to realize he was sleeping, not meditating.
She knew Ani had trouble sleeping as of late; his sleep shifts had been short and he sometimes seemed tired to her. Of course Anakin would brush it off, practically bragging that Jedi don't need to sleep much. But there was something about sleep that troubled him; Padmé had no idea what it was.
She gazed at her protector with concern...and confusion. Part of her still felt motherly toward Anakin, an old pattern from their first meeting. Yet she couldn't help but feel drawn to the man he had become. Even apart from his extraordinary looks, he fascinated her. This isn't going to get any easier, she thought. The only thing she wanted to do now, though, was at the very least make him more comfortable sleeping against the bulkhead instead of waking him. She took a folded blanket from the foot of the bunk and gently draped it on him. Suddenly she remembered performing a similar gesture a decade ago when as a boy he stubbornly insisted on sleeping against the wall instead of a bunk, and he'd shivered from the cabin's chill.
Smiling in spite of herself, Padmé settled back into the bunk and drifted back to sleep.