Chapter II: Finding the apprentice

That night was the first of many sleepless ones for Padmé. She cried for a very long time, and 3PO, afraid that maybe her condition had affected her in some painful way, broke into her bedroom several times, asking her what was wrong, and as in some delirious dream, she simply cried, "Everything! Everything!" frightening the poor droid.

Then she could manage to calm down, and indicate the droid of some made up ailment that needed no attention.

Padmé's morning was no better. The morning sickness that had been missing throughout her entire pregnancy, showed themselves with fury, leaving her dizzy for all day.

It seemed to her that nothing could possibly make things worse, till a special meeting was ordered in the senate by the chancellor.

The Republic… was dead.

The years of fighting for democracy had all been in vain.

The countless deaths and losses, what were they for?

For a rich old man to sit in a throne and be called an emperor.

For the voices of innocents to be left ignored forever.

For the work of her entire life to be turned meaningless.

For the Jedi order to die and the future be all uncertainty and fear.

And, most tragic of all, in her momentary selfish thoughts, for her child to be born in a world without democracy.

Though she tried to look at the bigger picture and suffer for the lives that would change forever, and to a most tragic end than hers, she couldn't help but being devastated for the fact that her baby would have to grow up in an empire—a dictatorship—, never knowing how wonderful and free life was before. She almost hated herself for a moment, thinking of how blessed she had been; when she remembered her happy childhood in the fields of Naboo, the waterfalls, the endless blue sky without a gray cloud, the security and comfort—all that her child would never experience like she did, it seemed so unfair. And she trembled to even imagine what kind of world was in store for her baby.

There seemed to be too many thoughts in her head that day, any more and it would explode. Suddenly, 3PO entered her bedroom—she had asked him to leave her alone for a while, so it must be something important—

"What is it Threepio?" she asked, nervously.

"A Jedi is here…" he said, just as nervous.

She rushed to welcome Anakin, ready to pass all her worries onto him so he could make her feel better, but almost as a punch in the face, the arrival of her guest made her feel.

It wasn't Anakin.

"Obi-Wan…"

What are you doing here? She almost said, but she checked herself in time, and finished, "so nice to see you! Please, do come in."

She was actually so happy to see him alive, it had been too dreadful to imagine him, alongside the other falling Jedi, murdered by the clones. Because no matter how much Anakin tried to sugar coat the truth, she could very well see beyond his words, she knew, they were murdered.

A feeling of uneasiness reached her when she saw his lightsaber hanging from his waist, that was a Jedi weapon, and Jedi were supposed to be… criminals? She could never believe it.

Padmé could barely keep her eyes on him. He looked tired, not angry nor afraid, but incredibly weary with—perhaps, life?

Aren't we all? Padmé thought.

He followed her across the room, trying to force her to look into his eyes. But she simply couldn't, and she felt as persecuted as he probably did by the clones.

"What do you want?" she asked, turning her back on him.

"I need to find Anakin."

She startled back.

"Why do you assume I know where he is?"

"Don't you?" there seemed to be some awful knowledge in his voice. Oh, Gods! She thought, please don't let me say anything that could hurt my husband!

"No," she said coldly. "I don't know where he is."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Obi-Wan's voice was iced-cold.

"I—I don't really remember. I've been very busy lately."

"Could you have any idea of where he is?"

"No," she said, almost mechanically.

"Padmé, I must find him. Try to understand, if you know where he is and you don't tell me, you could come to regret it later."

"Why?" she cried, in panic. "Is he in danger?"

"Yes."

"From the Sith?"

"From himself."

"What do you mean?" her heart started to race.

"Padmé," Obi-Wan put a hand on her shoulder, and said, softly. "Anakin has turned to the dark side."

She pushed his hand away, more enraged than afraid. "You're wrong! How could you even say that! He was your Padawan, you've seen him grow from boy to man, you—you know him better than anyone! And you still dare accuse him—"

"Padmé, I saw it with my own eyes. You can see, as well, though I prefer for you to never have a memory like that—I myself wish I could rip it from mine—he killed younglings. He's turned to the dark side. He is now a Sith lord, by the name of Darth Vader."

"I don't believe you!" she cried, desperately. "I can't."

"Padmé, I must find him. He and Sidious must be stop."

"Sidious has been revealed?"

"He had been hiding under our noses this whole time. It was chancellor Palpatine all along."

His words made too much sense for her to be doubting him now—yet it was too hard, too impossible, just too cruel. But it made sense. Their new emperor, he was behind it all, but—no, no, no! She can't possibly believe him. Isn't that her own husband they're talking about? The father of her unborn child? The man she loves more than life? No, no it can't be. Obi-wan is lying. He has to be… well wasn't he a criminal now after all? Yes, she tells herself desperately, he betrayed the republic—oh, but the Republic was dead!

What must she think?

Who must she believe?

On whom must she put her trust?

But, why was she even doubting?

"Go away, Obi-wan!" she cried, too upset to even shed tears now. "I don't know where Anakin is. You're wasting your time and you're hurting me. Please just go. If you need help hiding from the Republic—"

"From the Empire." He corrected.

"I will help you, Obi-Wan. You know I will. I'd never abandon you, but don't ask me to hurt someone I love."

Someone I love.

She said it.

THE someone she loves.

He didn't seem much changed by those words. He grinned, close to a bitter smile and simply said, "thank you, but I will not hide. Not yet, anyway. I must try once again, because I have faith, Padmé. Though I most certainly shouldn't. I have faith and I think everything isn't lost yet."

"What must you try? On what have you faith?"

"I know what I have to do."

If he said the word, she would've fainted right there.

"Please, Obi-Wan. You can't possibly say you want to hurt Anakin!"

"I don't want to. And—Anakin is gone."

"No, no, no! You're mistaken! You're resented, you're so terribly hurt by what's happened that you can't stand he's not a Jedi anymore…"

"How do you know he's not a Jedi?"

"He knew your code was broken," she said, dodging the question.

"Perhaps. But it was built with good intentions."

"Those good intentions did nothing to help us keep the Republic!" she was just saying words now, to hurt him, like he was hurting her.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I—you know I have a lot of respect for the Jedi. I truly wish things could be different."

"Me too," he said with a sigh.

He looked at her, and she finally buried her glance on his, he waited for her to change her mind at the last minute, but he knew by then that it was all useless.

He helped her sit down, and regarding her from head to toe, he asked:

"Anakin is the father, isn't he?"

If he had slapped her he couldn't have startled her more.

She couldn't say anything, just look down, with guilt, and he knows, finally understanding her stubbornness.

"I am so sorry," he said and made move to leave her.

"Wait!" she cried, "where are you going?"

"I must keep looking for the apprentice. The master is being taken care of; Sidious will soon be dead, I promised master Yoda I will see about the apprentice."

Could that really be Anakin they're talking about!

"Obi-Wan, have mercy! Now you know, I am carrying his child—and we're married."

"All the more tragic," he said, mercilessly.

"Please don't go. It's not safe out there for a Jedi."

"I know. But I will see that it is."