Seeds of the Future
The orange light of approaching dawn burned over the mountains surrounding the lake. It reached into the tower suite at Varykino, where a lone figure clad in a silken robe stood watching the sunrise from an arched bedroom window.
Padmé Amidala Skywalker listened to the birdsongs as she took in the glorious sight. Her spirits were soaring this morning, the seventh day of a second honeymoon between her and her husband Anakin. He was home safe and the days they spent together so far have been nothing short of idyllic. They'd spent hours talking, visiting favorite places and exploring new ones, going on picnics, swimming in the lake, watching the stars at night, even preparing meals in the kitchen. But they also reveled in being able to make love whenever and wherever they wished. Being with Anakin was always wonderful, but it was especially so when they had almost complete privacy. Her own ardor had surprised her, though Anakin certainly didn't mind.
Padmé turned to look at Anakin's sleeping form in their orowood frame bed, once again admiring the firmness of his back and shoulders. How she enjoyed having him sleep beside her again; her bed always felt so empty without him. It was odd that a simple thing couples took for granted was so special to her.
Normally, she would have awakened Anakin to come watch the sunrise with her, but she decided to let him rest. After months of fighting battles and long nights getting "reacquainted" with her, he was exhausted. Even Jedi needed their sleep.
Gazing out at the lake again, Padmé's thoughts turned to hopes and dreams for a time when this cursed war would end. She was lost in those thoughts when arms reached around from behind her for an embrace. Warm lips pressed against her neck and earlobe.
"Good morning, love," Anakin whispered in her ear.
"Good morning, Ani," Padmé smiled up at him, leaning into his hard body. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I have in a long time. What were you thinking about?" Anakin moved his natural hand up and down her side.
"The future. A time when there's peace again. When having a quiet moment like this isn't a luxury."
Anakin nibbled on her shoulder. "There are other luxuries that I miss..."
"Such as?" She glanced at him coquettishly.
He turned her to face him. "The joys of making love in the morning." He gave her the same lopsided grin that always made her melt.
She put her arms around his neck. "Hmm, I've forgotten those joys. It's been a while."
"Allow me to remind you," Anakin rasped before taking her mouth in a hungry kiss.
He pressed her against the pillar on one side of the arched window, his natural hand reaching inside her robe and caressing her skin. Padmé felt his need straining through the thin cloth of his shorts, pressing on her thigh. His lips traveled down her to her neck as he loosened her robe.
"No one will see us here, will they?" he whispered just before kissing her collarbone.
"I don't care if anyone does," Padmé gasped. "Take me right here, Ani." She pulled down his sleep shorts and he plunged into her. She locked her legs around his waist and held on to his shoulders, rocking along with her lover's rhythms.
'Gods, I wish this could last forever...' was her only coherent thought as birds continued their songs.
***
Padmé watched the approaching dawn from her Coruscant apartment's spacious veranda, memories of her last morning with Anakin on Naboo replaying through her mind's eye and her heart. Even two months later, it still was as clear as when it first happened.
They were supposed to have had ten days all to themselves but an urgent mission had cut Anakin's leave short. The very morning they had their last time together, Obi-Wan arrived at the retreat shortly after breakfast. Anakin did not want to leave her but Obi-Wan insisted that Asajj Ventriss was still alive and that he needed Anakin to help him. Padmé insisted that he go, knowing how torn he was inside between a desire to do his duty and help his former master and his desire to stay with her. Padmé promised herself the moment she agreed to marry Anakin that she would never make him choose between his duties as a Jedi and time spent with her. It was a sacrifice she would make, a penance as it were, for entering into a secret forbidden union.
"Who knows if it's still a secret anymore, now that Obi-Wan has seen us together," she thought. She thought she heard Obi-Wan say to Anakin that he didn't care what Anakin did on his leave time. Was the Jedi Master willingly turning a blind eye to what was happening? Obi-Wan was wise, one of the most perceptive men she'd ever known. If there was an anger, resentment, suspicion, or concern about her relationship with Anakin, Obi-Wan never showed it to her. During the times he'd seen her since the Battle of Geonosis, he always greeted her like a dear old friend, like family.
"Maybe he suspects we're lovers, but hasn't figured out that we are married," she thought with a deep sigh.
A shuffling set of mechanical feet on her marble floor made Padmé turn behind her. "Good morning, Threepio."
"Good morning, Mistress Padmé," the shining gold protocol droid. "I entered your bedchamber to wake you and I find you outside here. I do hope you are not catching a chill."
"No, in fact I came outside for some fresh air. I woke up and I wasn't feeling well."
"Oh dear! Is there anything I can get for you? Perhaps you should go back inside and lie down."
"It's all right, Threepio. I think it's just stress. Would you bring me a pot of tea?"
"Sometimes I don't envy humans," the droid said, shaking his head. "I shall be back with your tea, Mistress Padmé."
"Thank you."
Turning back to the brightening skies over the skyscrapers and the increasing traffic of hovercraft, Padmé rubbed her temples. She hadn't been feeling the same ever since Anakin left her. She suspected it was the Sieges at the Outer Rim, the political worries closer to home, the ever present concern she felt for Anakin, and for her family on Naboo...even for one used to handling a lot, it felt like too much sometimes.
Threepio returned a short time later with the tea. Pouring a cup for her, he asked, "Do you need more time to rest or shall we go ahead with today's schedule?"
Padmé took a few sips of the tea, a favorite blend brought from home, and it seemed to settle the queasiness in her stomach. "Let's go ahead with today's schedule," she said. "I think I'll be all right."
"Might I suggest a visit to one of those places humans go for relaxation and renewal? I'm aware of some fine ones on Coruscant."
"You mean a relaxation center, Threepio?" an amused Padmé asked.
"Yes, that's the place. It is very similar to the oil baths for droids, is it not? I know I always feel better after an oil bath."
"If I have time to steal away for a visit, perhaps it's not a bad idea," Padmé said. "Please tell Moteé and Ellé to lay my clothing out. I'll be getting ready soon."
"Yes, Mistress Padmé."
Threepio shuffled back into the apartment, leaving Padmé alone to watch the glowing golden orb of the sun finally make its way above the skyscrapers. It was time to face the day.
***
Padmé sat patiently in her delegation's pod, listening to yet another debate on some new amendment to the Republic's constitution, this one permitting the Supreme Chancellor to keep the war budget a secret for security reasons, even from the Senate's oversight committees. Bail Organa was speaking, the Alderaan delegation pod floating out in the middle of the Senate chamber.
"Even in these dire times, we need open government," Organa was saying. "And even in dire times, the checks and balances of power must be respected. The integrity of our constitution must be respected."
Padmé, of course, agreed with him. She had no intention of voting in favor of this new amendment, but she also knew her vote was more symbolic than anything else. Ever since the Clone Wars began, procedure had been changed to make executive orders and constitutional amendments faster and easier to pass. And many had been passed the past two or three years, some to Padmé's consternation.
She understood Palpatine needed to conduct the war and she understood the Republic's desire to keep systems from changing its alliegiance, willingly or unwillingly, to the Separatists. But she still didn't like centuries of democratic tradition being changed. She liked the method of those changes even less.
Another pod broke from the Senate chamber's wall and scooted toward the podium where Mas Amedda presided. Palpatine seldom attended sessions anymore, most of his time and attention devoted to keeping track of the war and communicating with the Jedi Council. Amedda had the power to bend the rules and bent them he did on a frequent basis.
"The Senator from Malastare would like to speak," Amedda said.
"The Supreme Chancellor does not need politicians and other busy bodies nitpicking over every credit in the war budget, miring it in endless debate," the Gran sneered.
Another pod shot out unannounced. "The right of the people to know where their tax credits are going should never be sacrificed to expediency either," the young red-haired woman said calmly but firmly.
Mon Mothma, the young firebrand, some would even say radical, from Chandrila. She was relatively new to the Senate, and amazingly enough to Padmé, was elected at age 20, even younger than she had been when she started serving at age 22. Along with Bail Organa, Mothma was one of the most outspoken critics of wartime "reforms." She had become another one of Padmé's allies in the Senate with Organa, Fang Zar, Breema Banu, and some others.
Mothma however was of all of them Palpatine's sharpest detractor. She never expressed it in the Senate of course. Only in the privacy of a clandestine conference, once the room had been swept for listening devices, would she speak of her mistrust of the Supreme Chancellor. The other Senators would look uncomfortable as she described him as power hungry or say that he'd forgotten the people. Padmé found herself in the position of having to defend Palpatine to some degree, partially because he was from her homeworld, partially because she had cleared the path for Palpatine's ascent to the chancellorship. But it was always with a twinge of something that felt like doubt.
Amedda cut Mothma off. "You are speaking out of order, Senator Mothma. The time for debate has come to an end. We vote now."
"Excuse me, but Section 463(a) of..." Mothma continued.
"We vote now," Amedda repeated. Mothma sighed with resignation, then the Chandrila delegation's pod returned to its place in the Senate chamber.
Padmé's gaze drifted downward in the seemingly endless abyss of the chamber. All of a sudden, she felt dizzy. In all of the times she'd been in the chamber, she never experienced this kind of vertigo. She was never afraid of heights. The chamber started to feel hot and stuffy and her velvet panne Senate gown felt heavy and tight.
"Moteé, could you please get a glass of water for me?" Padmé whispered to the handmaiden sitting to her right. She sat back and closed her eyes.
"Yes, milady," the handmaiden said, going into the pod's antechamber with quiet efficiency.
Captain Typho leaned over from his seat and whispered, "Milady, are you all right?"
"I feel a little dizzy," she said.
"Do you need to go to the infirmary and lie down?"
"Not right now...I have to cast my vote."
"Are yousa sure, meelady?" Jar Jar looked at her with concern. "Meesa can putten the vote for yousa."
"No, that's all right. It'll only take a second." Moteé slipped back into the pod and handed Padmé a glass of water. Padmé took a sip, then pressed a button on her console, logging in her vote.
Moments later, Amedda announced the results. "The 'yeas' have it. The amendment is passed," he boomed to cheers from the gallery.
"Let's go home," Padmé told her delegation. "Ellé, please cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. I'm sure Senator Organa will understand." She stood and wavered on her feet. Typho immediately came forward to help her out of the pod.
"Are you sure you want to go home instead of the infirmary?" he asked as they made their way toward the air taxi bay.
"Yes, I'll be fine. I think it's the weight of events, that's all."
"Perhaps you're becoming ill, milady."
"I'll go home and rest. Then we'll see if I need to see a med droid or not."
***
Padmé took a short nap back at her apartment and the lightheadedness went away. "Perhaps Threepio is right," she said to herself as she lay on her bed. "Maybe I should try some relaxation therapy."
Then she realized she had yet to check on reports from the battle front. Anxiously, she picked up her datapad off of her nightstand and sat up on the bed.
Her heart skipped a beat when she found on the Holonet a new report mentioning Anakin and Obi-Wan. They were all right; they were on the trail of Count Dooku now that they finished chasing Asajj Ventriss around. She sighed, "Thank the Force." The report gleefully mentioned Anakin's latest heroics in space battle, once again referring to him as "The Hero Without Fear."
The nickname gave her mixed emotions. She knew how reckless Anakin could be and it scared her to death. But Anakin's accomplishments also made her proud. How it pained her to keep that inside, never able to tell anyone. The most she could do is support the Jedi as much as possible in the Senate and privately, send communications to Anakin.
She then saw a new holo of him accompanying the report. It took her breath away. He looked so handsome, like a holovid idol. "Gods, I miss him," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt the weight of the japor snippet against her chest, hidden beneath her dressing gown. Hiding her emotions in public was an artform she'd perfected during her childhood. Alone, she could cry all she wanted, but she still felt the need to be strong, for herself and for Anakin.
Padmé often wondered if through the Force, Anakin could sense her or perceive her thoughts or feelings from afar. She felt connected enough to him and he was always attuned to her. He once told her that the Force was in everyone and that her presence in the Force gleamed like a corusca gem to him. It didn't mean she was going to give Master Yoda a run for his credits anytime soon, only that her presence was strong.
Wiping back her tears, she saved the holo to a private file on her datapad. "Take care of him, Artoo," she whispered, knowing her faithful little astromech was with Anakin.
Anakin believed the Separatist leadership was on the run and it was only a matter of time before Dooku and General Grievous were captured or killed. Padmé was worried the systems that left the Republic in the first place would still have grievances. More so now that some of those worlds had been devastated by the war. But Anakin had greater confidence in Palpatine's leadership abilities than she did. He thought Palpatine could bring those systems "back into line." Padmé disagreed. No one was so powerful or omniscient to make dissidence disappear.
"Damn," Padmé muttered. "I can't even miss my husband without thinking about politics again." She shook her head with an amused smile. "Maybe I ought to get that relaxation therapy right away."
***
Padmé had heard of submersion tanks but had never tried them before. The relaxation center was one of the finest on Coruscant. It was very popular with the rich and powerful, Senators among them. Securing an appointment was easy for someone of her status.
Now Padmé floated in a tank of warm water scented with flora meant to stimulate relaxation in humans. Her face, stomach, and the tips of her toes floated just above the surface. A solution in the water kept her from sinking too far down. A plastic cap kept her hair and ears dry.
The private room was nearly dark and soft flute music played over the speakers. Padmé's eyes fluttered shut and her breathing grew deeper. The music seemed to be playing far away from her.
Soon she found herself lying in a meadow, a meadow filled with spring wildflowers. Shaaks stood grazing several feet away. The sun shined down on her, warming her body and her face. There was a joy in her heart she hadn't experienced in a long time and she couldn't understand why.
She heard children giggling, but couldn't see anyone. "Who's there?" she called out softly. "Hello? Who's here?"
The response was the sound of small feet running on the grass. Once more, there were giggles. Smiling, Padmé sat up. "Come on, don't be shy, little ones," she said.
Then she saw them walking up to her, a little light-haired boy and a little girl with long cinnamon brown hair, both of them grinning. "Hi," the boy said, leaning close to Padmé. She took a look at his sweet little face and noticed his blue eyes. They were familiar. Why, those were like Anakin's.
"Hello, you two," Padmé said, gazing over at the little girl, who had large brown eyes. "What are you doing here all alone?"
"You were sad and we wanted to make you happy again," the girl said.
"I was sad? How do you think you know that?" Padmé asked the girl, perplexed.
"We feel everything you feel," she said.
"What?"
"We're part of you," the boy said. Something about him made Padmé think that she knew this boy, that she should know him. He did look a little like Anakin, but there was something more than that.
Abruptly, Padmé's eyes opened and she sat up in the tank.
"Senator Amidala?" She turned to see the attendant standing beside the tank, holding towels in her arms. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, I'm all right," Padmé said, a little embarrassed. "I wasn't talking to myself, was I?"
"No. But it's not uncommon for people to become so relaxed that they fall asleep and dream. They can consciously perceive their subconscious thoughts and feelings. Hallucinations happen from time to time."
"It was so vivid. It really felt like I was somewhere else. It was a little strange, but it wasn't frightening or anything. In fact it was somewhat pleasant."
"That's typical, Senator. It's why the submersion tank is so popular."
Padmé left the center, her mind wandering back to her odd dream. She supposed that's all it was. In any case, for a brief moment she forgot the problems of the universe and that was most certainly welcome.
***
"Good morning, Mistress Padmé," Threepio greeted as he walked into the darkened bedchamber. "It's time to get up."
Groggily, the young senator sat up with a groan. She felt worse than ever. Her stomach felt like it was doing backflips. "Oh Gods," she muttered, realizing what was about to happen. Padmé raced out of bed, nearly knocking over the startled Threepio, and ran as fast as she could into the 'fresher. She made it to the toilet just in time before she started wretching. Threepio stood around and fretted for several minutes as Padmé threw up. Even after it seemed as though there was nothing left in her to expel, she continued to wretch until her sides hurt. Finally, it stopped.
Sniffling, she flushed the toilet and went over to the sink to splash some water on her face and rinse out her mouth.
"Oh my, you truly are ill, Mistress Padmé. I recommend you lie down immediately and take your temperature." Padmé went back to her bed with a thermometer. After five minutes, the holographic display showed her temperature as normal.
"I don't understand," Padmé moaned. "If there's no fever, it can't be the flu. I think I need to see a medic."
Her handmaidens arranged changes to her schedule and secured an appointment with a med droid in the Senate's medical center. Despite protests from Captain Typho, Padmé insisted on going alone. Once the nausea passed, she felt better, well enough to go the medical center on her own.
Padmé wore a cloak that concealed all but the lower half of her face. She did not want to attract too much attention going to the medical center. The last thing she wanted were wild, unfounded rumors about her health in the galactic media.
Inside the examination room alone with the med droid, she lay on a pallet, dressed in a thin paper-like garment. The droid listened dispassionately as she described her symptoms, including the feelings of nausea and that morning's bout of vomiting.
"I assumed it was stress and then maybe I thought I had an illness, but there's no fever. The feelings of nausea and dizziness went away, for now. A few days ago, I almost felt like fainting."
"When was your last monthly cycle?" the droid asked.
"It was..." Padmé hesitated. She couldn't quite remember the last time it happened. She had been so focused on other things, she never noticed that particular irregularity. "I'm not sure. Not recently," she admitted. Padmé's eyes grew wide at the implications of the medical droid's question. "Wait, you don't think I could be...pregnant?"
"Your symptoms are consistent with the early stages of human pregnancy," the droid said. "However, what you are experiencing can also be symptoms of other conditions that are not as benign. I suggest we test for pregnancy immediately."
Padmé's heart started pounding and her mouth went dry. She never considered the possibility she was pregnant. Not that it was an impossibility; Anakin never took any precautions and she was not exactly consistent about using them either. Long separations made hormone regulating medications impractical and using more immediate measures tended to interfere with the passion and spontaneity.
With a deep sigh, she said, "All right." The droid took samples and then ran a scanner over her body. He left the examination room to run the diagnostics.
Alone, Padmé tried to sort through her thoughts and feelings. Was this what her vision in the submersion tank tried to tell her, that her subconscious knew what was happening? Was relying on stress really a way of denying the truth? A baby right now would complicate things greatly for herself and for Anakin...
The medical droid returned and said in his flat tone, "I have the results, Senator. I can confirm with 100% certainty that you are two months pregnant."
For several moments, Padmé did not speak as she absorbed the reality of her situation. When she finally regained her composure she asked, "You must maintain absolute confidentiality, correct?"
"It is in my programming, Senator. Even if someone were to attempt to retrieve the data forcibly, the data would automatically erase itself."
"Good. I must keep this situation quiet. No one is to know besides you. Not even the other droids or medics here. The father of this child does not know yet and I would rather that this not become common knowledge before he finds out."
"Of course, Senator. Shall we discuss a regimen of pre-natal care?"
Padmé nodded. "Yes, absolutely."
***
The walk from the medical center to the large Senatorial Gardens was like being in a dream. Padmé felt a sudden need to be within something natural, at least as close to it as possible on a world like Coruscant. She sat on a bench, still holding the list of recommended vitamins, diet, and exercises the med droid gave her. She took in the smell of grass and the singing of birds and the bustle of people walking, playing, and relaxing in the park.
Her eye was drawn to a young woman playing with her toddler. The joy on their faces made Padmé smile and without thinking about it, she placed her hand over her lower abdomen. This baby is what she wanted, what she has always wanted. How long had she felt a twinge of envy whenever she saw her sister Sola with her own children? How long has she dreamed of motherhood?
Padmé knew that deep down, she wasn't careless about preventing pregnancy, she really wanted it, or at least she was willing to let it happen. Motherhood was her destiny.
Yet there was another reason, one she didn't exactly want to acknowledge. If Force forbid, Anakin never returned to her, this child is the only part of him she would have left.
"Oh, Anakin," she sighed to herself. "What am I going to tell you?"
Padmé did not doubt Anakin would be thrilled to be a father. They had talked about having a family before. But it was always "someday" when the war was over, when Anakin was on the Council and he could change the rules. Keeping a marriage secret was difficult enough. How does one keep a baby secret too? Who could she trust to share in that secret? Not her colleagues nor even most of her staff. Perhaps her handmaidens or Captain Typho, but how could she ensure their silence? As for her family on Naboo, they would have to know. But when should she tell them? How will they react?
She also realized this could be the end of her career in public service. The Queen would not allow a Senator giving birth under scandalous circumstances to represent Naboo. She would be viewed as being tainted by the same decadence that corrupted the Senate. Padmé didn't know what would be more controversial among her people: pretending to give birth out-of-wedlock or admitting to a secret marriage with a Jedi. A famous Jedi at that.
The Jedi. The Council would be in an uproar if they knew the truth. Obi-Wan would be furious at her and at Anakin. Anakin would be expelled from the Order.
For now, even Anakin must not know. The Republic needed him, the Jedi needed him, wherever he was. She knew her husband well. He would desert his duty right then and there to be with her and protect her if he knew she was pregnant.
Softly she brushed her hand over her taut belly. It won't be like that much longer, she thought ruefully. Again the enormity of the situation washed over her. She didn't look different yet but was different on the inside. A new life was growing in her womb. A new life that was going to change everything.
Her life was no longer just about Padmé or even about her and Anakin. It was now about this child. The war, the state of the Senate, everything else she worried about out of principles she'd held dear her whole life, was framed in an entirely new way. It wasn't just about peace or saving the Republic; it was now about creating a better place for the child to live in.
She would do anything to protect her family even if it meant living under yet another veil of secrecy. Once Anakin returns from the Outer Rim--Force willing--she will tell him and then they will decide what to do. There had to be a way for a Jedi to have a family.
***
Padmé stood before her handmaidens, Ellé and Motée, who were seated in a couch on the veranda. Threepio was beside her. It was late in the evening and all three women were in robes and nightclothes. The only light came from the skyscrapers and the endless airspeeder traffic.
"What I am about to tell you cannot be repeated to anyone. Not to the Senate staff, not to security, not to your friends or family, and definitely not the Queen or any Jedi," Padmé said. "You are to speak of this to no one without my permission. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Milady," the handmaidens chorused.
Motée added, "We are completely loyal to you. That is why you chose us to serve you."
"Thank you," Padmé said with a nod. "This is something that is intensely personal. As you know, I have a relationship with Anakin Skywalker." Padmé swallowed. "And as you know, I hadn't been feeling well lately. Last week, I went to the Emdee droid at the medical center and learned that I am just over two months' pregnant. Anakin and I are going to have a child."
Padmé looked at her handmaidens, shock and concern on their faces.
"Milady, what will you do?" Ellé asked.
"The Queen will not allow you to serve as Senator any longer," Motée added.
"I know...there's so much risk to us all because of this but I believe I've found a way to buy some time, hopefully enough time for Anakin to return home. I'll have to conceal the pregnancy. I can keep serving in the Senate for the time being."
Ellé's eyes bulged with disbelief. "Conceal it? How would you accomplish that...with all due respect, milady."
"The gowns I wore as Queen hid just about everything. I never even noticed I'd developed until after I stepped off the throne," she joked, trying to bring some levity to break the tension. "Some of the gowns I wear now are just has concealing. We'll just have to be more clever in what I wear in public."
"What about when the baby is born?" Motée asked.
"I plan on returning to Naboo shortly before my due date and personally giving my resignation to the Queen. Until then, I am needed here."
Smiling faintly, Ellé said, "Perhaps we can serve as nannies, milady..."
"Of course," Padmé said, returning the smile. "I have a feeling I'm going to need all of the help I can get."
Epilogue
"Everything seems to be fine, Senator Amidala," the Emdee droid said in his dispassionate voice. "At this stage of development, I can tell you more about the pregnancy..."
"Wait," Padmé said, holding up her hand. "You can tell me if I'm going to have a boy or a girl?"
"Yes, among other things you might want..."
"No, no, no, no," Padmé said. "I'd rather it be a surprise. I've never liked spoilers. All I need to know is if my baby is healthy. Otherwise, don't tell me a thing."
"Are you certain of that Senator?"
"Absolutely certain," Padmé said with a wide smile. "Am I free to go?"
"Yes. Please return in three weeks."
Padmé changed out of her thin examination gown and layered on the velvet robes that hid her emerging belly, then headed back toward the Senate building. Mon Mothma and Bail Organa needed her support yet again. She owed what she could do to help them in the meantime.
She was surprisingly at peace on this still spring day. More than four months along, the morning sickness had thankfully subsided and she could feel the baby moving from time to time in her belly. Actually, the baby seemed to be moving more and more often, kicking and pushing. She didn't appreciate it when it felt like the baby was jumping up and down on her bladder. He was a rambunctious one, like her dear husband.
Gazing up at the cerulean sky, her thoughts drifted back to the odd vision she experienced in the submersion tank. She'd seen a boy and a girl...which one was she going to have? Were they truly her future children or a product of her own imagination?
Time would tell.