Prisoner.

Padmé hated that word. She hated how helpless it made her feel, even though she always found a way to escape. Hated how it was always her that they wanted. Hated the chains that always went with it. How her wrists never seemed to heal. She hated the humiliation.

It wasn't hard to escape. In fact, no one ever seemed to hold her prisoner for very long, but there was something about being helpless – even for a moment – that made her feel inferior.

She knew it was insane. Sometimes there was just no escape; not till later, when they let their guard down. Even Jedi could be taken prisoner. Unlike most people, she'd seen it happen. However, that always seemed different. Like it was all part of the plan. They were always so calm.

Maybe that's why she hated being saved by them. Or should she say Anakin, because there were few times – if any – when it had been another Jedi. She hated being the damsel in distress, and sometimes, Anakin could make her feel so useless. She knew he didn't mean it. He was just trying to protect her.

It was when she had escaped by herself that she was angry with him. Not because he hadn't been there to save her, but because he thought he should have been there to save her. Like she couldn't save herself. Like she was dependent on him.

She knew she wasn't. She had been a Queen before she met him.

Prisoner.

The word still got to her.