A/N: Hello! Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback, you encouraged me to write a bit more about Padmé.
I apologize for the confusion about Luke and Leia's fates – when I posted the first chapter, I was still a bit undecided what to do with them. I didn't even know if I would write more. I went back and edited it. They are alive, in any case. : )
My wonderful betas didn't have the chance to look at the chapter. I guess I didn't give them the chance to. I promise that I'll wait for them for the next part!
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I love you all very much, even those of you (187, to be precise) who read the story without thinking to give me feedback…
I hope you enjoy. : )
Chapter Two
I didn't perceive the muffled voices of the reporters and my fellow Senators behind the large pillars of which we were hiding. None of it mattered in his arms, anyway. My heart pounded fervently in my ribcage, I felt my baby's heart beating in harmony with my own as I watched his reaction warily, too worried to breathe. Seconds might have turned into minutes, and minutes into hours, but he hadn't moved, his penetrating blue gaze locked into my face. I couldn't force myself to look away and waited…waited…waited.
He frowned but still didn't say anything. His mouth quivered slightly – in anger or in delight? Why did he keep silent? Didn't he want us?
Then, slowly, agonisingly slowly, the blue of his eyes seemed to melt, and the edges of his mouth curled into a slight smile. He pulled me closer, still smiling.
"Padmé…this is wonderful." His voice broke, and his genuine smile grew.
The baby kicked as though impatient to meet its father. I felt my face breaking into a shy grin as my arms automatically pulled him closer.
"Are you happy?" I asked, still unable to believe that he was here, in my arms, thrilled to be a father.
He laughed in response, his deafening, contagious laughter the best music to my ears. Still laughing, he pulled me up and, as effortlessly as though I weighed ten pounds, whirled me around. The world turned into a blur of dim colours, and his perfect face, literally shining with happiness, was the centre of it. This reaction spoke more than a million eloquent words ever could. Vaguely, I heard myself joining in, my silver laughter accompanying his now, in the most perfect moment of our lives.
After an immeasurable amount of time, he put me down, still grinning. I grinned back. Time seemed to stop, and the rest of the world might have died for all I knew as we stood there, bathed in the rays of our happiness. There was no war, no political intrigues, no more nightmares. Somehow, we would figure everything out, we would find a way to be happy and raise out baby – I could read it in his blue eyes, and I believed him.
Not tearing his gaze from me, Anakin bent down and, very gently, pressed his soft lips against mine. Sparks of electricity ran down my entire body from his touch and I gave in into the kiss – a perfect mixture between passion and tenderness. I ignored the fact that there were dozens of Holo Reporters looming around, that we were in the Senate building. What did it matter, anyway, as long as Anakin was there kissing me?
But the voice of reason in my head didn't want to give up, and, very reluctantly, I broke apart from him, disentangling myself from his embrace.
"Anakin, we can't," I panted breathlessly.
Something like fury seemed to pass over his cerulean gaze. His jaw tightened.
"I'm tired of the secrecy, Padmé."
I stared back at him helplessly. I was tired of it too, but what choice did we have? What would happen to us if we got found out? Somehow, I knew that it was wrong of us to show our affection for each other here, in this hall. The baby kicked me, reminding me to be careful.
Almost roughly, Anakin pulled myself to him. I didn't resist. My feeble arms had no strength compared to his iron grip, and my willpower seemed to crumple from one glance at his dazzling, cerulean eyes. My breath incredibly hot and hard in my throat, I stood, unmoving, my half-open mouth inviting him in.
"You're my wife, and I want to kiss you whenever I want." His voice was only a husky whisper.
His hot breath trickled my cheek, his burning gaze making my knees wobble. He looked so strong, yet so young, so vulnerable. Ignoring the voice of reason, I pulled his face closer to mine, toying with his golden locks. Why did I feel worried, as though something was choking me? My husband was kissing me, the thing I'd been craving for months Why did I receive such a stupid premonition?
The edge of my consciousness perceived footsteps approaching us. I ignored them. Something flashed, like a holo picture had been taken. Anakin tensed, and we broke apart. As though in trance, I turned my head into the direction of the intrusion. I heard another sickening, strident sound of a camera before the flash, a furious bolt of lightning, blinded me. Vaguely, I could fell Anakin's hands rubbing my shoulders, but for the first time in my life, his embrace didn't bring comfort to me- on the contrary, I felt even worse.
Finally, my eyes re-adjusted to the darkness. There were people – many people – surrounding us. Some looked appalled, some were disapproving, but the majority was shocked. My eyes switching from one face to another, I could see my friend Bail Organa wearily putting his face in his hand. My breath cold and hard in my throat, I recognized some of my fellow Senators. Their faces seemed to be made out of stone, their eyes cold and disbelieving. Panic rising in me with each passing millisecond, I peered into the dark, judging crowd. One face stood out from the mass surrounding us for its chalky, unnatural pallor. Chancellor Palpatine stared at us, his face inscrutable, but I could have sworn I seen his thin lips curled into the tiniest ghost of smiles with his coal black eyes gleaming.
My head started spinning and my knees must have been shaking, for the faces suddenly stared wobbling. I swayed slightly. Anakin caught me, not tearing his gaze from the Holo Reporters around us. He had the fatigued, overpowered appearance of someone being cornered. I was sure I looked exactly the same.
Then my world turned into the blinding blur of flashes, and everything else disappeared.
I jerk awake. In the absolute quietness, I can almost hear my heart beating frantically. With a shaking hand, I wipe the perspiration beading down my forehead. Sitting up, I place pressing my hands tightly to my temples. This dream continues to plague me for five years, reminding me of my recklessness. The happiest moment of my life had turned into one of the most dreadful one in only few seconds. After that day, our lives had fallen apart. If only I had known then that was just the beginning. That the real hell was just beyond the flashing lights of the cameras….
My breath is still rattling, I pull the curtains apart and glance out of the window. Flashes from the cameras still dancing in fury before my eyes, I blink, trying to make the surroundings out. The sun has already risen, but it is gloomy outside. It appears as if the rain had not ceased to fall. The street is a long, black shiny ribbon, covered with puddles. There are few people outside, but the number of the troopers had multiplied considerably, their usually sparkling white armour covered with patches of mud.
I chuckle mirthlessly as I put the curtain back into its place. Why are there so many troopers here, on Deralia? Are they trying to catch someone? I have no answer for that. Why should a consultant be bothered by it, anyway? I have no ties to the Rebellion, I say to myself as I grab my clothes. There is no reason I should be worried. If there is a fugitive, there is nothing I can do for him.
"Morning, Raaja," a voice behind my back greets me. I whirl around from the stack of holopads I was trying to straighten out.
"Hello, Kaya."
The girl breaks into a huge grin and strides to the desk, her red hair swaying gracefully behind her. Kaya is another consultant at the shop, the only friend in my new life. Giving up the struggle with the stubborn stack of pads, I flow towards the desk, feeling a smile passing over my face. Kaya is a young girl, always cheerful and full of life. In some ways, her behaviour reminds me often of Anakin – she has the same untamed spirit, the same compassion, the same impatience. She is the only one who could make me smile.
Kaya drumms her fingers against the desk, watching me with sparkling eyes. She has something important to tell me, that much was clear.
"What is it, Kaya?" I ask curiously.
Kaya lowers herself on the chair so we are the same level, and looks away, blushing slightly. I can feel my smile widen and my impatience growing. After several torturous moments, she finally faces me again, blushing even more.
"Tilo proposed to me," she blurts out, an authentic smile passing over her pretty features.
I gaped at her and she stares back at me, still grinning. I cannot believe what I hear. Kaya is so young, and she wants to get… married. I push back the thought that I was even younger when I got married myself. The melancholic memories of my past life are really inconvenient at such a moment – and I attempt to concentrate on the present. Technically, Kaya is not much younger than I. She is a couple of years younger than Anakin as far as I know. But she is still so pure, innocent, and full of life. I feel ancient compared to her. Well, I look ancient compared to her.
"Congratulations," I stutter, moving forward to hug her. She returns my hug enthusiastically, laughing softly. "This is a bit …unexpected," I say when we end our embrace.
Kaya shrugs. "Tilo and I have been together for five years. It's not that unexpected - I think the right word for our situation would be 'delayed'."
I nod understandingly. "Men are annoying." And I had been married to one of the most annoying of the male species.
The bell rings, announcing the arrival our first customer. It is a human male, clad in a huge, dark brown cloak. He literally flows into the shop as though it is some kind of a safe heaven. Noticing out mildly surprised gazes, he starts looking around, randomly taking one pad after another.
Kaya quirks one eyebrow and shakes her head almost unnoticeably. "He doesn't look like someone who likes to read romance," she says, jerking her head into the direction of the customer, who becomes interested into a rubbishy romance novel.
I roll my eyes. Kaya sniggers softly.
"People can surprise you," I comment dryly.
"Indeed." She stares at the ceiling, her eyes taking a far away, dreamy expression I know only too well.
"Do your parents approve?"
Quiet footsteps approach us. "Excuse me," a male voice says shyly. I look up and see the customer stand before us, a stack of holo pads in his hands. His eyes are surprisingly clear and penetrating, as though he has more than only his eyesight to rely on… I tense.
Kaya jumps up at once, seemingly oblivious to the eerie aura of mystery around this man.
"They're probably even happier about it than I am," she shoots over her shoulder, hurrying to the customer.
"Hello. How can I help you?" I hear her say.
I grin at her. I am happy for her – she is my friend, my only friend. But her happiness makes me even more aware of my own misery. The hardest part is, that there is no one to blame. It was I who ruined my own life and the lives of so many others.
I feel my smile vanish slowly.
Casting a surreptitious glance at Kaya who is busy with the customer, I pull out a transmitter from the pocket of my robe. It is the special transmitter that connected me to the only ones who know that Padmé Amidala is still alive – it connects me to my parents. Somehow, the news of Kaya's marriage triggers the feelings in me that I am fighting for years to subdue – the longing, the anguish, the terrible, choking sadness…
My fingers shake and my breath is cold in my chest as I press the button that would tie me to the real world, the world I once belonged to. There is nothing there except for the dismal, unnerving silence of the device. I draw in a shaky breath as I stare at the still silent gadget, a black and dead shape in my trembling hands.
One could say that it had been my parents who took the first step at ruining my life. But who could blame them? They acted only in the name of love. They wanted the best for me. Had I told them about my marriage, about my pregnancy, things might have played out differently. I hadn't betrayed only Anakin; I had also betrayed my parents. I could only imagine how hurt, how bitter they must have felt as they learned the whole truth about my love from the Holonet…
During the night when I am choked by my misery, crying into my pillow under the anguishing howling wind, it is easier to put the blame on my parents.
Those times were dark for all of us. Even now, I still don't want to know what thoughts must have crossed their minds when they had found me lying on the floor of my apartment, broken by Palpatine, with a panicked Threepio fussing helplessly above me. They only helped me enter my cage of lies out of pure love – a cage that might have been empty if I had shown more courage and devotion.
"Padmé?" I hear a voice calling me.
Shaking my head to snap back into the present, I focus my eyes on the blue, transparent shape of my mother in my trembling hand.
"Mum," I breathe out, smiling. "How are you?"
"Oh, we are fine," she replies casually, scrutinising me. "There is nothing major going on. How are you doing?"
I shrug. "Business is booming." Kaya's enthusiastic voice in the background confirmed my proposition, causing me to wonder idly which holo she is trying to sell. "Kaya is getting married," I blurt out.
My mother's eyebrows rise. "But she's still so young!"
"She looks young," I correct flatly, "but she's not much younger than I."
Something passes over my mother's face as she shakes her head back and forth without noticing it. I cringe inwardly, preparing myself for another speech of getting on with my life. Doesn't she understand that I don't want to?
"She must be happy."
"She is," I respond quietly, smiling slightly. Mother frowns.
"Everyone seems to enjoy their lives."
I sigh inwardly. Here it comes again – the talk about my misery, the looks of pity I can't stand anymore…
My mother tilts her almost grey-haired head, her forehead creased. "You look awful, darling," she chides gently.
I lower my head, fidgeting with my thickening, rough fingers of an aged woman. "I know." I know only too well how awful I look now… too awful-looking for him…
"You should go out more often. Meet new people."
I raise my head in disbelief, feeling the familiar scorching, bitter sensation in my stomach. Go out? Does she mean hover out? Or crawl out, leaving my horrible chair at home?
"Padmé, you're still young. Enjoy your life. It is not over-" Jobal insists gently.
"Mum, I have no life," I interrupt her angrily, my eyes stinging. "My life was over when I woke up from coma, disabled, and found out that I was dead. I don't want a life. I don't deserve it!"
My mother looks panicked, but I can also see traces of grief in her once big, brown eyes. I know she blames herself for the miserable imitation of life I am leading now. I let her. It is so much easier to blame someone else for my mistakes. Sometimes, I even blame Anakin. My half-life would be so much simpler if I didn't love him so much, if there was no part of me that craved to see him again.
"Don't say that, sweetheart," she retorts, her uncertain voice hiding a hint of a plea. "Padmé, you're young and still strikingly beautiful. You'll find another man who will fall in love with you. You'll have more children-"
My facial expression must have made her stop for she abruptly stops speaking, eyeing me sympathetically. Her pitiful stare makes me feel even worse. I hate when people look at me like that – it makes me painfully aware of my crippled condition. I cast a furtive glance at the shop, afraid that Kaya might have noticed something. I trace her and sigh in relief: she is busy with trying to sell the most lousy data pad I've seen, being a bit over-enthusiastic about it.
"Beautiful…," I repeat sarcastically, my gaze sweeping over my formless, plump body in the hover chair, over my dead-looking, once curly hair.
The pity in my mother's eyes makes me nearly sick. I want to yell at her, to make a tantrum in the stupid shop, to pull my hair out. But I restrain myself – it would only make her pity me more. I take a deep breath instead and try to calm down.
"Mum-" I begin. To my immense relief, my voice sounds firm and guarded. "I don't want any other man... "I don't want any more children. Not from someone else." As though I can have children in my disabled condition.
Jobal purses her lips. "But children would brighten your life," she protests weakly. "It's a pure joy watching a tiny, adorable creature sleep. Its happiness is beyond description, watching them take their first steps, saying their first words…" Her voice trails off as she smiles in reminiscence, looking down, unseeingly.
To my horror, I feel my eyes burning. "Children are not like flowers, Mum," I counter, my voice sounding strange to my ears, as though something were choking me. "You can't just have them whenever you want. It's a gift. It's something that is born out of love, not because you feel lonely."
Jobal cringes. "Those are great words, Padmé," she says quietly. "But I can't believe that you're still not over him, after all these years."
"I'll never be."
The pity intensifies even more. My mother sighs heavily as though bracing herself to tell me something I don't want to hear. "Padmé, Anakin is a young warrior. He's fighting for the Alliance. He thinks that you're dead. So do your children." She averts her eyes. "Five years have passed, Padmé. He's probably moved on. So should you."
She is right in her assumptions. I don't want to hear about it. I take another deep breath, praying that the stinging in my eyes would subdue.
"It doesn't matter that my children don't know me-, "she shifts uncomfortably "- neither does it matter that I don't know them." I pause, my stomach filling with a heavy, icy load.
"I'm not going to live as though nothing happened. I messed up, and I'm paying the price."
My mother opens her mouth so as to say something, but I held my hand, stopping her. It hurt speaking about the past, and I didn't think that I could stop the tears from coming. I cannot take this conversation anymore.
"Mum, someone is coming over," I lie, throwing a quick glance over my shoulder to add more drama. The customer is twirling a holo in his hands, nodding in harmony with Kaya's praises. Somehow, I don't think that he is really interested in buying anything – most likely, he only entered our shop to escape the attention of the troopers. "We might get overheard," I add hastily, turning my attention back to my mother.
Jobal nods, looking disappointed. "All right, then. We'll talk later." Her expression softens, and the pity disappears from her eyes, replaced by a haunted, agonised longing – the feeling I could associate with only too well. "We all miss you."
I feign a smile, swallowing a lump in my throat. "I miss all of you, too," I whisper. "Send my love to everyone."
"I will." She smiles at me one last time, and is gone before I can even blink.
I stare at the suddenly dead device, blinking back tears that threaten to run down my withered cheeks. The edge of my consciousness perceives the animated chatter in the shop, but I am oblivious to it. I feel like I am in a thick, impenetrable cocoon, cut from the rest of the world. Ever since my death, I have always felt like I was different, but at this moment, I realise with loneliness and my situation that this is all my life will ever be. My only friend would get married. My husband had probably moved on….
I move to the more secluded corner of the shop for more privacy – I don't want anyone to see the aged, plump cripple weep silently. I don't think I can stand more pity. Sometimes I even catch traces of pity in Kaya's eyes, and she is the only one who behaves towards me as though I am a normal person.
As my hover chair buzzes, taking me to the farthest row of shelves, I could have sworn that the stranger's penetrating gaze was on my back. It is obvious that he is a fugitive from the Empire. I bite my lip as an impossible thought crosses my mind. Could this visitor be a Jedi, one of the few who survived the Purge? Could he know Anakin and my children?
Unseeingly, I stare at the shelves with the holo pads on politics. People on Deralia aren't interested in politics. They love romance novels where a knight in shining armour would save a beautiful damsel in distress, or the stories of galactic kings and queens from conflicted worlds falling in love with each other, their love stopping the waging war. I've read nearly all of them in the dull hours I got to spend alone, but none of these tales is lively enough to burn into my mind. These are fairy tales where everyone lives happily ever after, where love conquers evil, and the evil Sith Lords are slain by strong, beautiful Jedi Knights. In the real world, love causes evil and the army of the Sith Lord killed the strong Jedi Knights, thousands of them. Does my fairy tale exist in this harsh reality? Do I have a happily ever after?
My fingers shaking, I pull out clumsily the japor snippet he had given me many years ago. "Something to remember me by," he had said, his voice thick with cold. I smiled at the memory of his blue eyes, already dazzling even though he was only nine back then, as I trace my fingers down the carvings. How could I forget ever him? But could he forget me?
I bit my lip, visualising Anakin, young and powerful, talking to a female Rebel. I couldn't see what her face would be like, but I knew that she would be attractive and strapping, perhaps even-aged with him. Someone who he would fight side-by-side with, someone he would get to see every day…Someone who would be like a mother to the children that I willingly chose to abandon.
Had Anakin and I ever had a future together? Everything had seemed so simple before we were discovered. Before that, we thought that revealing our secret would make our lives easier. But everything fell apart, piece by piece, day by day.
The memories of the past would always haunt me. Hidden by the shelves, I can see the mysterious customer pay for his holos. Five years have passed since I have last encountered a Jedi, yet I was sure that one of them stumbled into our shop now. I watched the Jedi walk out of the shop, his posture wary, on guard. Somehow, I had the feeling that the arrival of the Jedi was an omen for the past finally catching up with me.
But would this encounter be just an insignificant brush of our fates, or was it just the beginning of something greater?
More importantly, am I ready to face the demons from my past?