The sky fragmented into a dozen colours and Padmé set the watering can down as she paused to glance at the setting sun. The snow covered mountains sparkled with hues of reds and pinks and the evening breeze lulled to a still. She brushed her hair back from her face and took a moment to revel in the quiet peace of dusk.

"It reminds one of Theed in winter, does it not?"

Padmé whirled, her hand dropping toward her hip and she stiffened a little when she felt only fabric instead of her blaster.

The cloaked figure held up his hands before very cautiously lowering his hood. "The key-code was still the same."

Padmé relaxed almost instantly, and brightened. "Obi-Wan."

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, m'lady."

"No, not at all. I was nearly finished." She rushed to embrace him, then motioned toward the door. "I thought we agreed on Padmé."

The Jedi returned her smile with a peck on the cheek and stepped aside, following her off the balcony. "Bail sends his regards."

Padmé's smile grew sad. "Of course he does."

"He means well." His voice was encouraging.

"I know."

"Breha was concerned about his visits drawing unwanted attention."

"I missed her birthday, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan nodded silently as he folded his cloak and lay it over a chair. With practiced ease, he withdrew glasses and a bottle from a cabinet as Padmé drew the curtains.

"She turned two without me." She paused, though it took another moment for the pained look to leave her face. "I can't stay here, watching Bail and Breha raise her from afar. Ana—he doesn't know. I'm thinking of leaving. But it's hard."

Obi-Wan lay his hand over hers, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Owen told me not to come for Luke's birthday." He motioned toward the table with the bottle.

"How is Luke?"

"Toddling." He removed the stopper and poured them each a glass before raising his up in toast.

Padmé rolled her eyes and returned the gesture. "That's hardly a response."

"I don't have much expertise in children, Padmé. I never did much with the Younglings until they were at least ten. I don't know what toddlers are supposed to do." Obi-Wan downed his glass and poured another. "He's trying to figure out how to run, at least."

Padmé laughed in spite of herself as she slid her glass toward him. "Leia is getting so big. She hardly sat still for me to braid her hair when Bail last brought her by. She-"

Obi-Wan pressed her glass into her hand, letting his fingers rest briefly against hers and shook his head. "I don't come here for you to dwell on sad things, Padmé. Bail says you do that enough on your own. Have another drink."

Padmé glanced wryly at the glass. "Should Jedi be drinking this much?"

"Why not? Sometimes we celebrate things. And sometimes we need to forget."

"I don't know if it's wise..."

"Everything we once knew has crumbled around us. Most of what we held dear is dead or dying. The only hope we have has been taken out of our hands."

"Hope?"

"It started because Qui Gon believed in a child as the Chosen One, Padmé. Now we have two children to carry our hopes."

"Let's not make them grow up too fast, Obi-Wan. I wish I could protect them and keep them innocent and young forever. Unlike us."

The Jedi handed her another glass. "No being elected queen at fourteen?"

Padmé laughed bitterly. "I was eight when I joined the Apprentice Legislators. Looking back, I don't know if I had a childhood. I thought I fell in love when I was twelve, you know."

"That's a little young, isn't it?" He continued pouring.

She laughed again. "What do you know of love?"

Obi-Wan gave a nonchalant shrug and raised the glass in mock toast. "You'd be surprised."

She rolled her eyes before continuing. "We had so many arguments, Palo and I. I used to tell him he couldn't really be an artist, because he wasn't focused enough on the future. He contended that I should learn to live in the moment."

"What'd you say to that?"

Padmé leaned her head back against the chair and idly raised the glass. "How can you live in the moment when everything you do influences the future? But now I wonder if he perhaps had the right of it."

Obi-Wan tossed back another glass and let himself relax a little more. "See, now you sound like a Jedi."

"What were you doing at twelve?"

"Building my first lightsaber."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow curiously.

"It was the last part of my initiate trials before... well, before I became a Padawan. There wasn't much living in the moment there, whatever the teachings might say."

They sat in silence as Padmé noticed the torment of remembrance fight in Obi-Wan's eyes. His words hung heavy in the air for several long moments before she took the empty glass from his hands and set it on the table. She rested a hand on his shoulder as she nodded toward the divan. He shook himself from a reverie of what she supposed were unhappy memories and followed her to sit down.

"Forgive me, Padmé, I should have asked sooner. How are you taking it?"

"It?" Padmé frowned in confusion.

"Palpatine's dissolution of marriage."

"Oh." Her voice was small. She looked away momentarily.

He started to move his hand toward hers.

She turned back toward him. "He's just trying to use who I was as a martyr for his Empire to turn people against the Jedi. You know that."

Obi-Wan's voice matched hers. "I know." A pause. "I meant more personally."

She sighed. "I think it had been over for awhile. Before everything... before everything..." She couldn't quite bring herself to say it.

Obi-Wan nodded patiently.

"I think I stayed for the children."

"You always tried to see the good in people, Padmé. Even Palpatine. It's what I—" Obi-Wan broke off.

Padmé cocked her head.

Obi-Wan shook his.

"It's done, though. I suppose Anakin would have said it reeked of politics. It certainly wasn't democracy." She stood and began pacing the room, new realization dawning in her voice. "But Amidala is dead. To serve everyone's purpose."

Obi-Wan froze mid-stand. "What do you mean?"

"It protects my—her children. Palpatine uses it for his own purposes with his newly established Empire and to blame the Jedi—those evil Jedi who made poor Skywalker leave the Senator from Naboo and dissolved his marriage, leaving a pregnant woman in the lurch. The Jedi, Bail, Mon Mothma... they all use it for their own purpose, to hide the children of Darth Vader."

Obi-Wan finished standing and approached her. "What about you, though?"

She looked away. "What do you mean?"

He placed his hand on her arm. "What about your purpose?"

"I don't think it matters anymore."

"It matters to me." His voice was gentle, sincere.

She turned suddenly, her arms about his neck and her lips pressing against his, savouring the moment before pulling away just as swiftly. "Forgive me...I...don't know what came over me."

Obi-Wan placed a finger over her lips. "No apologies."

"But you're a Jedi," she murmured.

"Not anymore. No more than you are a Senator. That was all in a previous time. This is something new."