Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled
The maiden in the light blue festival mask waited beneath the leafless gnarled tree. The mask obscured all but her almond-shaped brown eyes and the lower half of her face. She wore a matching cloak of light blue with the hood pulled up.
The air was crisp; autumn had truly arrived. Not far from her people milled around booths, gaming tables, food stalls, and rides. Most of them wore masks and costumes. It was the annual harvest festival, a popular nocturnal carnival. The young woman glanced up at the gibbous moon in the sky; no one knew she was here. Her security detail believed she was asleep in her bed. Not even the two droids in her care accompanied her. After all, the protocol droid was a bit too chatty and she didn't need that for her secret rendezvous.
Padmé turned as she heard the crunch of dried leaves beneath booted feet. A tall figure in a dark cloak and a black mask similar to the lady's, stepped out of the shadows and in the moonlight, there was mutual recognition. "Anakin," she whispered.
"Padmé," he replied in a voice full of longing. They fell into a tight embrace and kissed deeply, expressing all that words could not.
"I've missed you so much," he said when their kiss ended.
"I missed you too," she whispered. "I wish we had more time together, somewhere more private."
"You know I would charge through a whole platoon of battle droids to see you again even for a minute," he said with a smile that dazzled her, even from beneath the mask.
"Come on," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the carnival. "You've never been to a harvest festival before, have you?"
"Can't say that I have."
As they walked around the fair's booths and tents, she explained the origins and significance of the celebration. "They used to believe that on the last night of the lunar cycle during the end of the harvest season, the line between the spirit world and the physical one grows thin. Spirits would walk among the living."
"Do you believe in spirits?" Anakin teased.
"No, not really," Padmé said. "It's an old superstition and it makes for scary bedtime stories when you're a child. That's about it."
"That's my lady, ever so practical."
"Not always," she said, glancing over at a fortune teller's tent. "I would always get my fortunes readat these things."
"You? Really?"
Padmé nodded. "Let's go and get our fortunes read."
"Are you serious? These fortune tellers are fakes."
"Now you're sounding like the practical one," she chuckled. "Come on, it's just for fun."
"I don't know..."
"Hey, I thought you'd given up arguing with me," Padmé teased.
"All right," he acquiesced. "Just for fun."
"That's better..."
They entered the tent to find within the haze of incense and candle smoke an old woman swathed in gaudy silks and jewelry. "Welcome young ones," she said. "Sit down and I shall reveal your fortunes...for ten credits."
Anakin fished out a ten credit piece and dropped it into a recepticle. He and Padmé settled on cushions piled on the floor in a semi-circle across from the fortune teller. Huddled close together, they watched as the fortune teller shuffled what appeared to be sabacc cards and laid them out in a pattern on a carpet.
The old woman studied the cards intently. "Very interesting," she muttered.
"What?" Padmé asked.
"The two of you, you have been lovers for many lives," the fortune teller said. "It's as though you were made to journey together, created for one another."
The pair exchanged amused, loving glances.
"But your lives together have been marked by tragedy. Death."
Padmé's gasped. Anakin pulled her tighter to him, his lips forming a frown.
"It seems as though you were always forbidden somehow to love one another and the choice to love comes at a terrible cost. In one life, the lady was forced to live in isolation for the rest of her days while the man was emasculated. In a later life, both of you took your own lives after believing the other was dead. In another cycle, one of you was a noble lady, the other her protector. She was betrothed to a king she had never met, but she and her knightly protector fell in love. She was breaking her betrothal and he was violating his code, yet they secretly married. When they were discovered, the knight was exiled and the lady was imprisoned by the king. The knight tried to rescue her, but she was killed. The knight then became a warlord, feared and merciless, exacting his revenge on the land..."
"I've had enough," Padmé said, her voice breaking. She rose up and fled the tent.
Anakin got up, glowering at the fortune teller. "Why did you frighten her like that?"
The fortune teller calmly replied, "Let not your heart be troubled, young man. No destiny is set. I am giving you this bit of wisdom now...you always have a choice."
He replied only with a piercing, warning glare before leaving the tent. He found Padmé outside at the edge of the fairground, shivering. "Are you all right?" he asked, embracing her from behind.
"Yes, I think so," she said. "It was just that what she said was so unsettling. She couldn't possibly know who we are."
Gently, he placed his chin atop her head. "It's all nonsense," he said. "Right, my practical love?"
She sighed. "Yes, of course." She turned around in his arms. "Let's get some spiced hot tea and then I'll challenge you to some of the games."
"A challenge, huh? Lead the way."