Don't own Star Wars. If I did, Padmé would not have died.
Love My Love's Killer
Anakin often felt that he should love the child that was growing within his wife, a sign of their love and devotion. So he couldn't help questioning why he really didn't.
Even now, as he lied awake in his and Padmé's bed, real hand resting on the slight swell of her stomach, love didn't form in the corners of his heart. His eyes flickered as the child kicked against his hand, and he snorted in amusement. Could it sense his dislike? Was it trying to push him away?
Yes, he had at first felt his love immediately extend from his wife to his tiny child that was curled inside her womb, not yet ready for the world. But then those dreams started; those terrible, horrific dreams of Padmé dying, and the sound of a baby in the background.
It didn't take a huge leap in logic for Anakin to realize that his angel would be taken from him by their own child, for the birth to be too much on Padmé's body, causing her to fade away.
Despite the teachings instilled in him by his Jedi Masters, Anakin couldn't deny that he was possessive of Padmé, as much as he could deny that he loved her. His years as a slave on Tatooine had made him less willing to deny himself the things that made him happy, much to the Jedi Council's collective frustration. And, without a doubt, Padmé was one of the few things that made him sincerely happy.
She was the balm to his nerves, the light of his life, the only person that could actually keep him calm. She was everything to him, and had been for years now. She was his crush as a boy, his infatuation as a teen, and his wife and lover as a man. She was, with his mother gone, his last remaining bit of sanity, and soon that too would be taken from him, and by his own child no less.
Anakin couldn't stop himself from scowling at the thought, but grew calmer when Padmé moved closer, subconsciously responding to his distress and attempting to soothe him. That brought a small smile to the Knight's face, and he nuzzled closer to his wife, drawing a soft sigh from her and settling her once again.
Warmth spread throughout Anakin's body as he marveled at his angel's trust in him. For her to sleep at ease beside him, taking into account his troubled sleeping and unstable emotions, showed the man just how much faith she had in him, and that made him both proud and careful to not ruin such trust.
It was frustrating that she put that same trust in their not-yet-born child, only for it to eventually betray and kill her.
Anakin's disposition darkened some as that thought returned, and he felt the Force around the two of them rear up in response to his musings, the entity curling around Padmé as it echoed the Knight's thoughts. You can't have her. You can't take her. She's mine.
The Force itself was the one to tell Anakin that he and his wife were meant to be together. It had given him dreams as a boy, dreams of a young girl, a few years older than him, smiling at him and holding his hand as he showed her a piece of japor, carved for her to remember him by. He immediately began carving it, and it wasn't long before the girl in his dreams arrived on his planet with two Jedi, their presence changing his entire life before his very eyes.
The dreams followed him as he traveled around as Obi-Wan's Padawan. These dreams, however, were much more intense. They were of him and Padmé kissing and holding one another; they were of passionate nights and intense romance. The Force had pushed these images onto him so strongly that Anakin often forced himself awake, sweat covering his body and heart pounding longingly for the one the dreams were about.
And now the Force, the very being that created the world and told him that he and Padmé were meant to be together, was saying that the child inside Padmé would tear them apart in the most permanent of ways: through death.
Anakin tried to drown out these thoughts by burying his face into Padmé's hair, inhaling her scent with a relieved sigh. Sure enough, the thoughts slowly left him and he lowered his head to nuzzle against her neck. Padmé moved a little at the sensation, a light giggle escaping her in her sleep and Anakin gave a roguish grin in response to his wife's actions.
Suddenly, her breathing rate picked up, signaling that she was starting to wake, and Anakin felt a fleeting sense of regret for disturbing her.
"Ani," she sighed, her voice quiet from tiredness, "why are you awake? Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine, Padmé," Anakin soothed, moving his human hand from her stomach to rub her back gently. "I'm sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep, okay?"
"Alright. I love you, Ani." And with that, Padmé returned to her dreams, curling closer to her husband and leaving him staring at her fixedly.
"I love you too, angel," he breathed, his heart warming at his wife's words and actions. Silently, he tightened his hold on her, and followed her back into the realm of dreams, leaving his musings for another night.
Anakin often felt that he should love the child growing within his wife, a sign of their love and devotion.
But he found it hard to love his love's killer.
Please tell me if this doesn't make sense. I've gone about a week without my concentration pills (thank you Thanksgiving) and, while this makes perfect sense to me, it may not to anyone else.
I was watching RotS for about the third time, and I couldn't help but wonder if Anakin ever hated his child for taking Padmé away.
Please review.
Ja ne!
