Part 2
Barriss had no opportunity to speak with Anakin alone at the ceremony for seeing off the Senator's body. She could feel the careful control he was exerting, could see him drawing comfort from the occasional hand Obi-Wan would lay on his shoulder.
The Chancellor spoke, his voice drifting off in certain places as if he were fighting a heavy grief. And he probably was, Barriss reflected silently, Padmé Amidala had been a fellow Nabooian. The ceremony itself was a blur, despite Luminara chiding her to pay attention. Barriss couldn't get beyond the aura Anakin was projecting.
They stood side by side and part way through it, she felt his hand grope for hers. He gripped it thankfully, and she felt the aura surrounding him shift. He'd needed the contact; that anchor. She could also feel that he was still angry with her despite his appreciation for her friendship. She only hoped they'd find time during the trip to talk and that he'd let her say her piece.
"How could you do that to me, Barriss?"
Anakin finally rounded on her in the mess hall of all places. They were alone, their Masters checking out the ship and crew for the third day in a row, the casket carrying the body of Senator Amidala safely tucked away in the cargo hold, and it left them to their own devices. Barriss had suggested a game of grav ball to bleed off the tension - Anakin had been hungry. They'd played gravball first, and then come to the mess hall. Anakin had beaten her soundly and she had the bruises to prove it.
"Do what?" She settled her tray on the table, knowing what he was talking about but needing to hear him confirm it. "Let you win?"
He slid the tray across from her, it banging on the table with an angry motion. She could sense his turmoil, the frustration and anger he was keeping in careful check. His emotions were radical and erratic, and she'd noticed him swinging dangerously between happiness and despair since they'd started their trip. "You know what I mean. How could you invade my dreams like that?"
Barriss picked up her fork. "Would you believe me if I said I hadn't intended to?"
"Healer Barriss not intruding?"
She flashed him an annoyed look. "I don't need your scorn, Anakin. You know as well as I do that the Force doesn't always work the way we expect it to. Are you sorry I saw?"
"Aren't you?" He shuddered, picking up his own fork and taking a bit of the small salad on the corner of her tray.
Barriss looked at him pointedly. "If you wanted greens you should have got some."
"Nah, Jedi don't need greens." He became serious almost immediately. "You can't tell me you wish you hadn't seen it."
"Jedi don't dream, Anakin."
He shivered again, as if hit by a blast of cold air. "Well, maybe I do."
"Master Luminara says-"
"You told her?"
Barriss flushed. "I couldn't very well keep it to myself!" Anakin made to rise but her hand shot out, catching his wrist. "Hear me out, Ani, please?"
He flinched, dropping back to his chair. "Don't call me that."
"I like it; I think it's cute."
He closed his eyes, and Barriss felt the despair reaching up to engulf him. "It's what... what she - what they - used to call me."
"They?"
He closed his eye, resting his elbows on the table and letting his face sink into his hands. "Padmé and my... my mother."
Barriss shifted her grip, reaching across the table to run her hands along the backs of his. "It's alright to grieve, Anakin. The senator was very lucky to have a friend like you."
He didn't say anything but one of his hands shifted, sliding to cover hers and he gripped it tightly, as if it were a life line. His shoulders slumped and he seemed to be focusing on her hands, drawing strength from the contact.
"I'm sure you're mother is alright."
He jerked, his head coming up. "You can't know that."
Barriss squeezed his hand before letting go reluctantly. "And you can't know that she's not."
"You said it yourself - Jedi don't dream."
Barriss picked up her fork once more. "I'm sorry I intruded on your dreams, Anakin; I honestly didn't mean to; I just wanted to help."
He regarded her for a minute before she felt his anger slipping away. "I know that here." He tapped his head. "But here," he tapped his heart. "I feel a little violated."
She ducked her head, unable to voice the feeling of helplessness that proclamation had left her with. She stabbed into the salad, but put her fork, still full of green on the edge of her plate and pushed it away. His admission had left a sour taste in her mouth.
"Barriss?"
"I really am sorry, Anakin."
"I know." His plate followed hers and his hand reached out, palm up across the table. "Come with me."
She looked up, surprised, but his face, while holding that sadness, was open and earnest. She slid her hand into his and stood, following him out of the dining hall and into the corridor. He didn't drop her hands as they walked. "I guess I owe you an apology too."
"For what?" She found the feel of his thumb stroking the back of her hand distracting as she attempted to concentrate on his words.
"For being such a pain." He sighed; leading her down the corridors back towards the room the Jedi had been assigned. It was next to the cargo hold which held the Senator's corpse as per their assignment. "I... I think you can probably tell I don't let people get close."
She nodded, letting him lead. "I figured as much. With a memory of your mother, I can understand why."
"Without having known your own?"
She squeezed his hand. "I shared a vision with you about her. I felt your fear, and your love for her. I can't imagine what it must be like to love someone so completely."
"But you felt it."
She nodded, pulling him back as he made to go into their rooms. "I felt it. I also felt what you once felt for the Senator. Don't you think you should say goodbye?"
Anakin made to step back, but Barriss had his hand in a firm grip.
"I couldn't."
"Would you rather have an audience, Anakin?" Barriss tugged on his hand and took a step forward. They would be landing tomorrow and Anakin hadn't tried in the least to visit the body of his friend. "I promise you can cry on my shoulder if you need to."
He tugged at his hand. "I can't Barriss. I... I can't."
"You can." She turned to face him, understanding his reluctance far better than he probably thought she did. "A part of you loved her, Anakin. With the death of a dream, a new one awakens but only if you have the courage to move beyond the death of that dream, no matter how perfect."
He shuddered. "I can't."
She stepped close to him, wrapping her arm about his waist and leaning her head against his chest. "Then lean on me and let me help you. You're not alone, Anakin."
"It just feels..." He stopped, choking on the word.
Barriss felt him trying to control himself and squeezed him gently. "Don't think, Anakin. Just let it out. Keeping it in will only make things worse."
"I'm scared, Barriss." The admission was soft, so soft she barely caught it. His arms came up and she was suddenly squeezed into a tight, desperate embrace.
Barriss felt his quaking in her arms, his whole body shuddering as the pain and the fear threatened to engulf him once more. She lifted her head and found herself to be looking into the bluest pairs of eyes she'd ever seen. His gaze was intense, unblinking, and a tear slipped from the corner of his eye to slide down his cheek. Her breath caught, completely unprepared for her own reaction to that soulful, desperate gaze. His grip tightened and she was now flush against him, hip to hip, standing on her toes as she attempted to help him find ease.
The inappropriateness of her thoughts wasn't lost on her. There, on the other side of the bulkhead, lay the woman he'd fantasized about for ten years.
Barriss freed one hand, reaching up to catch the tear on his cheek with her finger. Her gentle touch was enough and her feet hit the floor with a jarring thud as Anakin's knees gave out, his eyes closing against the burden of grief that was tinted with fears beyond his control. Barriss folded with him, ending up seated in his lap, straddling his knees as he clung to her. He made no noise, and she doubted he ever would, as tears slipped down his cheeks. His face was buried in her shoulder, half in her hair that had been left down for comfort.
She let him cry, feeling the pain that continued to eat at him even when the tears finally stopped. He clutched her with a strength born of desperation as if afraid she too would disappear and prove only to have been a dream. She stroked his short hair, rocking back and forth slightly as she offered him comfort. "I'm here, Anakin, I'm here."
"Don't leave me, Barriss." His plea was soft, almost child-like.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Anakin lifted his head, releasing one arm to brush his hand over his eyes and his sleeve over his face. He finally looked back at her. They were close, barely centimeters separating their noses and, despite the pain, or maybe because of it, he found his gaze drawn to her lips. The need to kiss her enveloped him, replacing the pain of loss with a different kind of pain; a physical ache he had little experience with.
Barriss felt the shift in his mood, the pain subsiding to be replaced with the ache of need. She should move, or so she kept telling herself, but his eyes held her captive. Those blue eyes, a startlingly clear color she'd never seen anywhere else. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
"Anakin?"
"Yeah?"
She took a deep breath, consciously aware of how bad an idea it was the moment her chest connected with his. "I think we should stand up now."
"Why?"
"You know why," she answered with a faint smile. "Loss, or so I'm told, often brings out the need for intimate contact in humans. That's not very wise."
Anakin lifted one hand to brush the hair from her shoulder and tuck the strands around her ear. "I don't want to be wise, Barriss. I'm sick of being wise. I've lost a friend, been tormented by dreams of losing my mother and been lectured by my Master about control when I want nothing more but to kiss you."
"We can't Anakin." Barriss moved, shifting backwards on his lap, but Anakin's grip tightened, dragging her back, settling her against him so their lips were almost level. His eyes mesmerized hers once more, darkening as she watched.
"Why not?"
"Attachment is forbidden."
"It's a kiss, Barriss." He managed a semi-smile that was charming for the effort. "Just one. It'll make me feel better."
She licked her lips again, tempted and knowing she was losing the battle against her own will. She tilted her head, lifting her hand to brush her thumb across his lips, her breath hitching when his tongue darted out to lick the pad. "One." Her agreement was a whisper.
Anakin shifted his hold, unable to suppress a groan as she shifted in his lap. Barriss tilted her head and closed her eyes as her lips touched his. She felt more than heard his sigh and his head shifted position. She reacted, doing the same and brought their mouths together more intimately. The tip of his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips and, without thinking, she opened to him, pressing herself forward in his lap, bringing herself higher and tilting his head upwards so that she was kissing him. Anakin's hands held her in place, splayed against her back as Barriss ravaged his mouth with gentle teeth, lip and tongue.
She finally pulled away, fighting for breath, and found her head was spinning. Her heart was pounding, echoing in her head, and she could feel her hands shaking as she shifted her grip against him. His arms were shaking as she was let gingerly down from her superior position.
What a kiss!
She blushed, wondering if she'd really just climbed all over him like that. The flush on his face indicated she had. She waited until her breathing and heart were back to some semblance of normal before she tried to speak. "Feel better?"
He laughed, but choked on it, his forehead coming forward to gently lean against hers. "Much. But worse in others."
"Same here." Barriss joined him in a shaky laugh and made to move away again, but Anakin's hands flexed on her waist.
"Don't go yet."
"I don't think we-"
"Barriss."
Barriss stiffened, her head coming around at the even tones of her Master. "Master!"
Luminara was observing them with veiled interest, but Barriss could sense her Master's displeasure. "It is not customary to climb on ones colleagues, Padawan. Some cultures even consider it rude."
Anakin laughed; the first real laugh Barriss had heard since the news of Padmé's death four days ago.
Luminara arched her eyebrows. "You find something funny, Padawan Skywalker?"
"Yes, Master."
"Enlighten me."
Anakin coughed, composing himself, and helped Barriss slide off his lap. She rose to her feet shakily, still reeling inside from his kiss, and offered him her hand. Anakin accepted and she helped pull him to his feet. He slouched a little, adjusting the fabric of his long jerkin over his waist and thighs. "I apologize, Master Luminara."
"For what, Anakin?"
"For monopolizing your apprentice."
"There is much Barriss can learn from you, Anakin. I trust her time with you isn't wasted."
Barriss flushed, making her tattoos stand out on her cheeks, unable to look at either her Master or Anakin. Anakin answered, but the sadness had crept back into his tone. "Barriss is teaching me at the moment, Master. It would seem I have a problem letting go."
"It is not unexpected." Luminara pinned Barriss with a look. "But, this trip is for healing so we must promote it. Would you like to join us for meditation? Obi-Wan is otherwise occupied but has suggested some peace and quiet might benefit you."
"I would be honored, Master."
Anakin's meditation session with Luminara and Barriss was a disaster. He was unable to concentrate on anything beyond what had transpired between him and Barriss in the corridor. He tried; he really did, but after an hour of inhaling the elusive scents in their quarters, all of which reminded him of Barriss, he'd taken his leave and returned to the quarters he shared with Obi-Wan.
Reclining on his bunk, Anakin slid his hands behind his head and took a deep breath as he resolutely closed his eyes. He tried to blank his mind, to sleep; he hadn't slept well since news of Padmé's death had reached him. In addition, nightmares about his mother plagued him when nightmares about Padmé weren't.
He focused himself elsewhere, shying away from it and brought to mind the events of that morning. His mouth tilted into a bewildered half-smile as he did, marvelling at the range of emotions she'd drawn from him. His mind was reeling, his lips still tingled - even his scalp tingled.
Barriss' kiss hadn't been anything like the previous stolen pecks from amorous admirers. Those had been swift, stolen from cheek and lip like shadows; he'd barely felt them, barely recognized them. He'd been kissed by dozens of women, dozens of girls, none of whom he could have recollected with a name or a face. He'd grown to accept that girls his age found him attractive, even if he'd secretly been holding out the hope of meeting Padmé again now that he was older.
But that hope had been dashed by the report of her death on the landing pad. He felt the surge of grief that accompanied the thought, but it wasn't as powerful as it had been, didn't hold him in thrall like it had before. Barriss' company and, yes, her kiss, had warmed him and filled him in a way he'd not expected. There was a pleasant glow that accompanied the touch of her hands, the taste of her lips and the smell of her hair.
He supposed it wasn't surprising considering the circumstances. Barriss had commented on the need for physical intimacy with the news of the death of a loved one. But was that all it was? Was Barriss simply a distraction, a way of moving past his grief? He frowned, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. He didn't think so; he hoped not. He'd never really thought about Barriss as anything more than a colleague, a fellow Padawan - but one he could relax with.
And now? Now indeed. The now was harder to answer. He didn't know. All he knew was that her presence here was the only thing that kept him from rash action; she was his anchor in the emotional storm that had become his life. The one thing that helped keep him sane with his world set to crumble about him.
She was the one person he trusted implicitly, a fact that disturbed him almost as much as her kiss had.
Barriss waited anxiously after Anakin left them, struggling to maintain the core of inner focus so crucial to meditation and failing abysmally. She was nervous, on edge and just waiting for her Master to say something.
But the expected lecture never came.
Luminara appeared content to remain in a deep, peaceful meditation and forget that the incident had never occurred.
Barriss, who was struggling with emotions she'd never before experienced, felt edgy in ways she didn't understand. When Anakin had been in the room, her concentration had been focused on him. She heard every breath, felt her skin bump when he was watching her; she almost believed she could hear his heart beat.
Then he'd left, leaving her to question her sanity. What had she been thinking allowing him to kiss her? Finally, the silence getting to her, she gave up pretending to meditate and broached the subject herself. She needed answers and advice. "Master?"
Luminara didn't look up from where she sat, her eyes closed, her posture relaxed. "Yes, Barriss?"
"Are you upset with me?"
"For what?"
"For my... actions with Anakin today."
Luminara's eyes opened. "For climbing on him?" She looked more amused than angry.
Barriss winced. That was only half of it. "Yes."
"I'm not upset, no."
"But you're not pleased either."
"Attachments, as you know, are forbidden for Jedi. It is not that I am not pleased. I am concerned."
"I'm not getting attached to him, Master, if that is your concern."
"No?" Luminara's gaze was searching and Barriss had the distinct feeling her Master saw something she couldn't yet see herself. "I know you and Anakin formed a professional working relationship on Ansion. Since that mission you've become fixated on him. I am not surprised to have found you kissing."
Barriss flushed, dropping her gaze. She'd been hoping her Master hadn't seen that particular part of their embrace.
Luminara continued her voice still even, holding no censure. "What surprised me was the intensity behind the action. Jedi are not forbidden to indulge in their baser urges, in fact there would likely be mutiny if the council even suggested such a move. Each Jedi is tasked with controlling themselves and their natural drives. You must understand, Barriss, that you are a young woman in the throes of her first passions. Anakin Skywalker is a young man in the same situation. Ordinarily I would offer you no advice; the choice would be yours to continue or desist."
"But?"
"There is more emotion behind your actions than curiosity. It concerns me."
Barriss didn't lift her head as she carefully turned the words over in her mind. The emotions she'd felt the moment Anakin's lips had touched hers had included curiosity, but hadn't been limited to it. Her Master was right. Her actions with Anakin had been motivated by emotion, something she didn't dare risk continuing if she wanted to achieve her status as Jedi Knight. She couldn't afford the entanglement.
But, even as she resolved to avoid it, a small voice was whispering in the back of her mind.
It's already too late.
The cargo hold was dark beyond the small access door and Anakin hesitated on the threshold, wondering if he'd lost his mind. He'd told Barriss he couldn't do this with her present, but he hadn't thought he'd be able to do it alone either.
But he had to.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Anakin hit the ring lights. They came on slowly, softly illuminating the outer walls of the cargo hold and casting shadows over the empty spaces between him and his objective. The large, black casket with the glass face plate, darkened just enough that - without the lights from the inside - he would never be able to see in.
Anakin hesitated again, just inside the cargo hold, the door sliding shut behind him. Breathe, he told himself silently, making certain he took a deep, steady breath and letting it out. Now walk. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. He moved his feet reluctantly.
He didn't want to be here; didn't want to acknowledge what being here could possibly mean, but he didn't want to be in the quarters he shared with Obi-Wan either. His Master was an observant, if stern, man and would note his discomfort immediately. And the last thing Anakin needed was another of Obi-Wan's lectures about loss, attachments being forbidden and the Force.
Anakin's steps were slow as he made his way towards the coffin. He stopped beside it, reaching out to place the tips of his fingers against the burnished wood that made up the most of the panels. Because of the extensive damage done during the bombing, only Padmé's head had been left to view and it had taken nearly seventeen hours to get that much. Anakin shuddered, the wood cool to the touch, as if the coldness echoed in his heart and soul.
He moved forward, drawn. He needed to see her, to know that he wasn't grieving for nothing. The switches on the side of the sealed coffin were within reach as he moved up the side, his fingers finding them as easily - as if they'd been placed there for his convenience. But then, he couldn't bring himself to part with the wood, as if in doing do he would lose something he didn't know he had. The lights ringing the interior plate glass, clear as crystal once illuminated, reflected off the flawless complexion of alabaster skin.
Anakin closed his eyes at the first glance, turning his face away as if to deny the input of his senses. But he couldn't. Her image followed him, haunted him. Pale lips, artificially colored and a mockery of life, were burned into his retinas.
He turned to look once more, tears welling in his eyes as he took in the still, silent face of the woman who had haunted his dreams for so long. Her dark curls, what was left of them, arrange so artfully if he hadn't know she'd lost most of her hair in the blast, he'd have thought nothing of it. A bruise, carefully concealed and barely visible on the side of her face where shrapnel had been pulled from her skin. He took it all in, noting, even as he did so, that her eyes remained closed.
Look at me.
His thoughts were unbidden, the words too much to choke out past a throat closed by tears. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted to see her brown eyes just once more. Eyes that filled with excitement and joy; expressive eyes that spoke of her strengths and weaknesses. Eyes that held him in thrall with no more than a sparkle or quirk of an eyebrow.
Just once.
But her eyes remained closed.
Anger was swift to follow. You left me, Padmé. The tears that clouded his eyes didn't fall, held back by force of will as his free hand clenched, belying the tenderness with which he caressed the casket. You were my hero, my beacon. You left me here, alone, without you; I need your guidance, your example. I need to know your goodness is out there somewhere. That there's a goodness worth fighting for!
"You shouldn't be here."
Anakin whirled to find himself standing face to face with a woman who looked enough like Padmé to pass as her at a glance. His heart lurched painfully in his chest. She wasn't Padmé. He could see that immediately, his right hand still firmly planted on the top of the casket that bore her body. It wasn't the soft fall of the decoy's hair, or the sorrow in her eyes that drew his gaze - it was the blaster she had pointed at his forehead.
Anakin swallowed hard, unable to blink back the tears coating his lashes as he fought to speak. "She-"
The blaster twitched.
"You're Anakin Skywalker."
He nodded, feeling as if he were the little boy he'd been when he'd last seen Padmé. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and slid down his cheek. The woman staring at him, obviously one of her handmaidens, brought an ache to his chest. He'd seen her lying lifelessly inside the coffin, and here, before him, was a woman who had served her faithfully until the day she'd died. "I-" He stopped, his throat closing, choking off whatever he'd been about to say.
The blaster slowly lowered as the woman before him seemed to come to some kind of a decision about his intentions. "Milady spoke of you fondly, Anakin. Of the little boy who befriended her and called her an Angel."
Anakin bowed his head, a ragged sob tearing loose from his throat. His clenched hand covered his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to stem the powerful emotions the memory evoked. He'd been young, so young, but he had known even that that Padmé had been special. And now she was dead. Dead because she believed in what she fought for enough to risk her life for it.
Cool hand slid around his own. Calluses of working hands were rough against his knuckles as he leaned against the coffin for strength. The hands gently slid lower, tilting his head up gently. "Anakin."
He opened his eyes, watching the Handmaiden's image shimmer through a veil of tears. He inhaled raggedly, sobs he didn't dare voice burning in his throat. He couldn't bear the thought of Padmé being gone. "I can't."
She squeezed his hands tightly. "You can because you will, Jedi Skywalker."
"I'm not-"
She arched her eyebrows at him. "You will be. Milady said it would be so; and so it will be."
"She never-"
The Handmaiden smiled sadly, stopping his protest. "Attachments are forbidden to a Jedi. She would never have interfered in your training, but she valued your friendship. I see that value was not lost on you. I can only offer you our apologies that we were unable to protect her."
Anakin blinked, seeing for the first time the puffiness around the Handmaiden's eyes, the paleness of her skin. She looked as if she hadn't stopped crying since Padmé had died - and like she had no more tears to shed. Drawn to the signs he couldn't help but notice how she trembled, or that her words weren't quite steady. He heard the pain underlying every syllable and he understood.
The Handmaidens had known Padmé far better than he ever had and they had willingly risked their lives for her out of love. They deserved their privacy and their grief. Not because they'd failed, but for the loss of a friend. Anakin squeezed the Handmaiden's hands back and managed a small, watery smile. "I know you did everything in your power to protect her; she knew that too. I also know she would never have been talked out of the choice she'd made. Don't blame yourself, Handmaiden. Padmé made her choice."
The Handmaiden stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. She said nothing, only reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pendant attached to a rough piece of leather. She lifted it and looped it around his fingers, entwining the cord between them. "Milady wanted to ensure you got this back if anything happened to her, Anakin. May the Force be with you."
Anakin's gaze locked on the pendant in his hand as the Handmaiden disappeared back into the shadows of the cargo bay. He turned, not quite believing his eyes as the small pendant on the leather thong rotated slowly, catching the lights and reflecting off the lovingly polished surface. His throat tightened again as he caught the pendant in his hand and collapsed on top of her coffin, sobbing silently, his shoulder shaking as he poured out his grief.
Clutched tightly in his hand was the Japor snippet he'd given to her ten years ago to grant her good fortune.
Barriss found Anakin the following morning. He'd not slept the night before and she could tell by the shadows that hung under his eyes. He stood beside Padmé's coffin, speaking to her softly, the sorrow having disappeared to be replaced with the ache of regret and acceptance. His hand was splayed across the wooden top, just shy of the glass, his voice a murmur that carried no further than the deaf ears of the woman inside.
Barriss hesitated, wondering if she should intrude when Anakin finally seemed to be moving past his grief.
He looked up, sensing her presence despite his focus, and smiled wearily. Barriss felt her resolve to leave him be melt like sweets in the sun. It was a smile that spoke of demons faced and if not conquered, at least controlled.
"Good morning; Obi-Wan's looking for you."
He cocked his head at her. "Not even a 'how are you this morning Anakin, you look like hell.'?"
Barriss grinned. At least he knew it. "Good morning Anakin," she replied dutifully, moving towards him at a slow pace and keeping her voice soft. "You look like hell this morning. How do you feel?"
Anakin looked back to his companion, smiling down at her through the glass of the coffin. "Better. Padmé and I had a long discussion last night."
Barriss felt her heart do a funny skip in her chest. "Oh really?"
Anakin nodded, his eyes never leaving the peaceful face behind the glass. "She's a very good listener; but she knows I won't be able to follow where she's going. Not yet anyway."
"Does that bother you?"
Anakin shook his head, finally turning away from the coffin to face Barriss completely. "Not as much as it used to. Padmé says I'm a fool."
Barriss looked at him in surprise. "Padmé says?"
He nodded. "Living in the past is dangerous. It could drag me down, weighing my soul with broken dreams, hurts and resentments that would only eat me alive. I have to let her go or risk my future for a might have been."
Barriss wondered if he'd hit his head too hard on something. "I see. Did Padmé have any more words of wisdom?"
"Just one."
"Only one?"
Anakin frowned and held out his hand. From it dangled the strangest carving that Barriss had ever seen. But, despite its simplicity, the charm and warmth of whomever had created it, and the loving care it had received, came through clearly. His hand trembled, causing the pendant to shake on the plain leather thong. "She wanted me to give you this."
Barriss made no move to take it. "I never knew her; why me?"
Anakin's hand remained outstretched, the Japor snippet hanging from his fingers. He met her gaze. "Because she no longer needs it. It's supposed to bring good fortune."
Barriss almost laughed, but Anakin looked so serious she couldn't. "Anakin, a pendant doesn't make or hold luck. What is it, really?"
Anakin's hand slowly lowered and the Japor snippet was tucked out of sight his palm, his hand clenched tightly around it. He broke eye contact, half-turning away. "Nothing. Forget it."
Barriss reached out to stop him, grabbing a hold of his arm. "Don't shut me out, Anakin. What is it?"
He didn't turn, but didn't make any move to leave either. "It was a bad idea, forget it."
Barriss moved to stand in front of him, somehow knowing he wouldn't turn to look at her. He avoided eye contact despite her attempts. "Why is it so important to you that I have that trinket?"
His eyes flashed and his head came up with a snap.
Barriss stood her ground. "Help me understand, Anakin."
His lips thinned and she could see he was fighting with himself. She waited, patiently, knowing no amount of pushing would get what she wanted. His shoulders finally slumped. "It was the only thing I ever gave her, the only present I could."
Barriss managed not to show her surprise but only barely. "It was a gift to Padmé?"
He nodded sadly. "One of her Handmaidens returned it to me last night. I thought maybe... I thought..."
"I'm not Padmé, Anakin."
"I know that."
"Do you?" Barriss searched his face, her heart squeezing painfully. She was too close to the situation and she knew it. But she couldn't just up and leave him, not when he needed her, no matter how much it would hurt her later. She could deal with hurt, or so she hoped.
He nodded, his expression forlorn. "I can't keep it."
"So bury it with her." Barriss nodded to the casket. "It belonged to her; it was your gift to her. There's no reason for you to keep it. Maybe in parting with it a second time you can let go of your grief for her."
"But - the Handmaiden said Padmé wanted me to have it."
She smiled faintly. "And what are you going to do with the gift a little boy gave to the first person who truly befriended him? A gift that was given as a sign of hope for the future - you know if you hold on to it, it will only cause you pain."
He held out the hand that hadn't relaxed around the snippet. "Keep it for me, then? Until I'm able to deal with the pain and move beyond it?"
Barriss was sorely tempted to tell him a flat out no. It twisted her heart in a funny way to know he wanted to hold on to something so trivial - and yet so important. No attachments. If she'd ever seen Anakin attached to anything, this was it. Her hand came up slowly, carefully and his relief was clear as he dropped the snippet, band and all, into her hand. Barriss stared at the small pendant in her hand, not exactly certain what possessed her to take it.
"When you ask me for it, Anakin, there will be no shadows of grief and no remembered pain in your eyes. You won't get it back otherwise."
He folded her fingers over it and brought her hand to his lips. Barriss froze as his lips gently brushed the backs of her fingers, and her lips tingled, remembering the other kiss. She moistened her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. Anakin didn't move, his gaze focused on her mouth, his eyes darkening as he watched her.
Move.
Barriss heard the command echo in her mind. She couldn't follow it, caught by the intensity of his look. Move, you fool. You're holding another woman's token of his affections! She pulled her hand back and took two steps back, hurting as much for herself as for him at the confusion that engulfed his face. She managed a weak smile. "We land on Naboo later today, Anakin. I'm glad you've said your goodbyes; her burial would be more difficult if you hadn't."
"Barriss, I-"
She held up her free hand, the Japor snippet cutting into the palm of the other. "Don't, Anakin. I'll hold your token for you until you're ready for it again, but don't push. Take this one step at a time. You've started on your road to healing; don't derail it now by saying or doing something you'll regret later."
He snapped his mouth shut and the muscle along his jaw twitched. "Something I would regret. You mean like kissing you?"
"Do you regret it?"
"Do you?" His words were short, but she could hear the hurt that he attempted to hide .
"It was a kiss; my first." She felt the heat crawling up her face, but continued. "It was given with no strings, no expectations. You cannot regret that which holds no expectations. I'm glad it made you feel better." She took one last, long look at him and turned on her heel, leaving the cargo bay.
"Barriss, wait!"
She heard him scramble after her, but she didn't wait. She didn't turn to look at him, the Japor snippet burning like a brand in the center of her palm. She wanted to be rid of it, to throw it across the hold with a shriek of dismay, but she couldn't. She was too controlled, to empathetic for that. Anakin needed a friend right now and, despite the heat that flared between them, he wasn't ready for anything more.
She stopped, stumbling, her hand steadying her on the corridor wall. Something more. Her eyes widened with dismay. Is that what I want from him? Is that why I can't tell him no?
"Barriss?"
She closed her eyes but was unable to ignore him. "Yes, Anakin?"
She heard his hesitate, could feel his nervousness, but couldn't appreciate it. Her senses were reeling, her revelation having shocked her to the core. She did want more from him. She wanted to explore where these feelings would take them, to know all there was to know about being someone's - being his woman. She clenched her hand around the Japor snippet, feeling the pendant dig into her palm once more. She'd gotten attached.
"I never knew that was your first kiss."
Barriss pushed herself away from the wall, pushing aside her own problems, her own revelations, and turned to face him. "Unlike you, I stay out of the limelight and focus on my studies. Don't you have things to do before we land?"
He looked at her confused. "You don't want to spend time with me?"
She managed a faint smile. "Everyone needs some time to themselves and I've found precious little on this voyage. I'm not complaining but now that I know you're dealing with your grief, I need some time to myself."
"Alright." Anakin shot her a questioning look. "You're sure you don't regret our kiss?"
Barriss nodded. "I'm sure. I'll see you before we land, alright?"
He nodded and let her go. For that she was grateful for Barriss knew, without a doubt, that if he'd continued looking at her with such heat in his eyes she'd have been hard pressed not to be the one initiating their next kiss. She firmly turned on her heel and headed towards her quarters. It wouldn't happen; she couldn't let it.
