A/N: Hello! I apologize for a short delay. I've planned to post this chapter much, much sooner.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed – without you, I'd never been able to complete the third chapter. Your comments drive me on to write more, and try to write better. I love you for that!

Thanks to everyone who read it. I'm still surprised that anyone would want to read something I write.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Three

The sun rays turned slowly from gold to crimson and then from crimson to dark violet. The dim light of the falling night makes the shelves in the distance look ominous, as though something sinister were hiding behind them, waiting for its hour to come. Another day of my life passed like hundreds of others before it.

A glimpse of white armour outside my window catches my attention. I frown as I grab the dust brush to make my usual sweeping round before closing the store. There are too many storm troopers outside…Can the stranger be connected to their arrival? Who is he? Why am I so unnerved by his appearance? He could be no one, just a peasant. I proceed in cleaning the shelves while my mind is still haunted by that man. Kaya hums nearby, her slender figure dancing between the shelves as she straightens the stacks out, making everything perfect for the next day…and the next one…and the next one.

How long will this bleak routine continue? Am I courageous enough to bring myself into the world of the living again? It is so easy – the only thing I need to do is contact Anakin. I still have the transmitter that he constructed specifically for our use during the Clone Wars…

The white, artificial lights in the shop flicker alive. The street and the Storm Troopers disappear only to be replaced by the reflection of countless shelves and a prematurely aged woman, her eyes full with ancient grief. I was raised in a household full of love, sun and hope, eager to have a bright future. Is my life now the future I imagined myself to have? Is it the future my parents wished for me?

My first blow to my parents had been my secret wedding, followed by my pregnancy, and my love for the man who I wasn't supposed to fall in love with. Then came the second, more terrible one: the loss of their daughter's position as a Senator, reputation, and destiny. I can still remember the first time I saw them after the secret of my marriage had been broadcasted across the HoloNet.

I stood at the balcony of the apartment that no longer belonged to me, wrapping my arms around my waist. The baby kicked me and I nearly stumbled from the power of its kick. Was it trying to reassure me, or was it vexed? I couldn't tell. I watched the tremendous shape of the Jedi Temple hidden by the gauzed curtain of traffic from my eyes. Anakin's fate was being decided now within those magnificent, distant walls, and there was nothing I could do. He had violated the Code in the most cruel and dishonoured manner by marrying me.. Would he still be allowed to stay a Jedi Knight, to be the person he was born to be?

A gentle gust of wind dishevelled my curly hair, throwing the tendrils into my face. The world became obscured by the dark haze that was the curtain of my hair. The speeders flew in every direction before me, each following its own destination, its own fate. What was my fate now? I rubbed my shoulders in a vain attempt to warm them as I heard a dark, booming voice speaking words in my head again – the same words that were slowly killing a part of me.

"Your position as a Senator is hereby revoked."

I heard them over and over again. I wasn't Senator Amidala. I was just Padmé. Hadn't this been my dream? Hadn't I spent countless nights awake, dreaming of the moment when I would decline my duty as a Senator, when Anakin would leave the Order and we would go to Naboo? It would have been just the two of us and the baby living a quiet, happy life. Somehow, this possibility didn't seem as appealing as it had seemed earlier.

"Padmé?" a quiet voice spoke behind my back.

I tensed and whirled around, the wind throwing my robe into a graceful arch. The persons I had last expected to see, the persons I had hurt in so many unimaginable ways by my secrecy, were standing before me with guarded expressions. My parents.

"How- " I stuttered, taking a step towards them. "Threepio- "

My father waved his hand dismissively. "He had no other choice - we just brushed past him."

My mother ran forward and embraced me fiercely. "Oh, Padmé, how are you?" She cried into my shoulder as I returned the hug awkwardly, patting her back, feeling at total loss at what to say. Finally, she took a step back, smiling through tears. "You're huge."

I stretched my face into a smile and gestured with my hand to the sofas.

"Can I get you something?" I asked them as we took a seat. They shook their heads no.

A thick, uncomfortable silence pervaded the room. The soft wind fluttered into the room, toying gently with my hair as I looked everywhere but not at the two people before me. I scrutinised the drawing behind my father's back, the sound of traffic a strident noise in my ears. I could feel their gazes penetrating me.

My father cleared his throat, and the silence was broken. Unwillingly, I tore my eyes from the painting and fixed on him, trying to look calm.

"How long?" He didn't need to clarify what he meant.

I chose to focus on my knees instead – somehow, it was much easier than to endure my parents' eloquent eyes. "Three years." My voice was only a whisper, barely audible against the noise from outside.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

I fidgeted with my robe. "I couldn't."

"You know that we wouldn't have betrayed your secret," my mother said gently. Reluctantly, I looked up and met her gaze, hurt but full of love nonetheless. I could feel my lips tremble, the tears I was trying to hold for so long welling up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, biting my lip. The baby kicked me, reminding me of its presence, that I had not only myself to worry about.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated, covering my mouth with my shaking hand. What more could I say? That I had been scared and confused? That I had been scared for my Jedi husband, for his future? That I was sorry for falling in love with a man who was forbidden to love?

Jobal jumped up and hurried to pull me into her arms, patting my back. "It's alright, Padmé," she said, stroking my back. "We understand. These are hard times for you."

I sobbed into her shoulder, feeling my baby crying with me. It was unnatural how strongly connected we were – I could sense every primitive emotion of the tiny being, allowing me to know exactly what it needed. Would the connection hold when the baby was born? Was it like this for all mothers, for the ones carrying non-Force-sensitive children? Could my mother feel the anguish, the desperation I was going through at the moment? I didn't know. I just sobbed into her shoulder, letting my mother, who I'd cut out from my life, comfort me.

"Do you love him?" my father asked tentatively when Jobal and I broke apart.

I stared at him defiantly. "More than life itself."

He sighed and shook his head wearily. I watched him, hating myself. I couldn't even comprehend through how much I'd put them through. My father had been robbed of the chance to give his blessing, to walk me to Anakin, to watch the wedding… He had never had the chance to find out that his little daughter had grown up and was about to become a mother herself. He had learned about my life from the Holo Net…Some daughter I was.

"Does he love you?"

I smiled at him reassuringly. "He does." If you only knew how much.

His eyes narrowed, and I tensed immediately. Sensing that, my mother rubbed my arm, casting a meaningful glance at Ruwee.

"Are you sure that he loves you? Padmé, he's a Jedi. They aren't supposed to love, they can't even love."

I gasped, my breath hot and scorching in my throat. "Dad- " I choked out, my arms trembling.

"Ruwee- "my mother began disapprovingly.

He cut us off. "Padmé, he barely knows you! He didn't see you take your first step, he didn't see your first smile. He doesn't know what a wonderful person you are." His eyes softened. "I don't think that he truly appreciates how lucky he is."

"And you don't appreciate how lucky you are that I'm married to Anakin," I retorted coldly.

My father pursed his lips, his expression reserved, attentive. "Padmé, you're blinded by love."

I waited. The crimson rays of the setting sun penetrated the soft curtain, casting delicate shades of pink on my father's creased face.

Ruwee took a deep breath. "Sweetheart, what future could the two of you possibly have together?" His voice was very soft, the expression of his dark eyes pained. "Everything is in the open now. You're not a Senator any longer, and Anakin will be expelled from the Order. As soon as your child is born, the Jedi will take him or her from you."

"That doesn't change anything," I objected, but my voice didn't sound as certain as I'd like it to be.

He pretended as though he hadn't heard me. "Padmé, you sacrificed so much you love for that man – your family, your job, your destiny. You were born to help people, and now you can't do it anymore. And Anakin loves being a Jedi, it's in his blood. Do you think that your love is strong enough to survive if the two of you have lost your purposes in your lives, the things that are most precious to you?"

I kept silent. For the first time in my life, I was confused. Was it childish of me to believe that the miracle of true love was enough to prevail every obstacle?

The ghost of a smile by the corner of my father's lips told me that he understood that his words had hit the nerve. "Don't misunderstand me, Padmé. We would be more than glad to have both of you if you decide to return to Naboo. I barely know Anakin, but I'm sure that he cares about you, much... I just hope he cares enough."

"Ruwee," my mother protested, squeezing my hand. "Leave the two of them alone. It's their life. They both are adults, and they know what they're doing."

My father stood up and sat on the other side of me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Padmé. I'm just worried."

"I know," I said quietly, watching his pale, tired face, the creases by his eyes accentuated by the rays of the setting sun.

"With his child gone, and his destiny taken away from him, I'm afraid that he won't be able to love you any longer. That man was born to be a warrior, and I'm worried that a quiet life won't be enough for him."

I hung my head, at loss for words. My father's words opened a black, empty hole in my chest. I sat there, unmoving, my parents by my side, fear slowly clawing at me. What if my father were right? What if Anakin blamed me for losing his life?

"Don't forget, we'll always be here for you," my mother said, pulling me closer. I didn't protest, my body moving closer to hers as one of a ragged doll. I could feel myself nod vaguely. Then something cold and slimy stirred in me, sending a wave of blind panic on me.

Would I still be able to love Anakin? Would my love for him survive the loss of our child and the sacrifices I'd be forced to make for him? Could I be just Padmé, just Anakin's wife?

For the first time in my life, I didn't know the answer.

The sounds of the bell snap me back into the present. Someone entered the store, even though we are closed. Wheeling around, I move to the entrance, a sinking sensation of who that might be, entering my stomach.

"Excuse me," I hear Kaya start. Then her voice breaks off and she gasps.

I am already close enough to recognise the source of commotion. The mysterious customer from this morning is leaning against the door, clutching his stomach. Thick, dark blood oozes slowly between his fingers. Kaya stands frozen beside him, her hand covering her mouth.

I feel my heartbeat accelerating, my breath hard and alien in my throat. The stranger's hood falls down, revealing his long, dark hair. Sensing my stare, he opens his eyes with a visible strain. A patch of white armour outside catches my attention. Troopers.

His lips move, but he speaks too quietly for me to hear.

"Pardon?" I whisper, feeling more helpless than ever before. I move closer.

"Help…me," he croaks barely audible, his breathing horribly ragged. "Please."

I vaguely feel Kaya glance at me, but I ignore her. Not breathing, I watch the stranger's chalky pale face covered with a sticky layer of perspiration and his slowly closing and opening eyes beg with me. Kaya inhales sharply, but I ignore her once more.

"Help…"

A loud bang at the door breaks me from my trance-like state. Kaya stiffens, her eyes wide with fear. The stranger closes his eyes wearily, his head dropping in a gesture of defeat. Another loud bang reverberates on the room. I hear the trooper's voice command us to let them in - the words can't be distinguished - my mind working fervently on how to get us out of this mess.

"Kaya, grab him and hide," I hiss, pushing her towards him.

She looks panicked. "I-" she begins. I don't let her finish.

"Hide," I growl as another bang shakes the shop.

"In the name of Empire-"

"Do it!" I shout as she still hesitates. The stranger moans quietly, sliding down to the ground as his knees give away. At last, Kaya puts his arm around her shoulders very slowly, helping him up.

"Open the door!" a command thunders in the store, accompanied by another deafening bang.

"Raaja, but what are you- " Kaya begins as she moves away from the door, staggering from the man's weight.

"Don't worry," I reassure her hastily. "I'll figure something out– just hide."

"But-" she doesn't give up, a flicker of surprise crossing her youthful features. I ponder idly whether she had seen me that commanding before. The sickening sound of the pulled triggers come from outside.

"Hurry!" I yell, furious. "They are going to blast down the door!"

Thankfully, she resumes her walking, though they are moving much slower than I'd have wanted them to. There are blood stains on the metallic door. I wipe them hastily away with my own clothes. The trooper shouts more warnings, but I ignore him the best I can – the exact wording would only make me more panicked.

I glance over my shoulder to make sure that Kaya and the stranger are out of the sight range. They are.

"Opening!" I shout as loudly as I can before the troopers can enter the phase of aggressive negotiations. My stomach squirms painfully at this random thought, another reminder of him.

I push the button, and the door moves aside with an angry hiss. There is the whole battalion of troopers outside, blasters at the ready. My imagination paints identical, stern faces under their lifeless masks.

"Can I help you?" I ask innocently, backing off and letting some of them enter the shop.

The commander follows me, and the floor whines in pain under his heavy steps.

"We suspect that you're hiding a fugitive Jedi," he replies monotonously, the eyes under the mask roaming over the store. I hold my breath as he glances briefly in the direction Kaya and the Jedi stranger are hiding, but, mercifully, nothing happens – his attention switches back to me.

"I'm alone," I lie, putting on my best political mask. Who would have ever thought that I'd use it again? "I don't know anything about any fugitive Jedi."

The Commander stares down at me. "We saw him enter the shop."

Sweet bantha. I shake my head as though I were confused, trying to hide my intensifying fright. "I told you, I'm alone. No one entered the store."

He doesn't buy it. His hand makes a tiny motion, and more storm troopers enter the shop, spreading over it, searching.

"There is no one here," I repeat. My voice is firm and my face doesn't betray anything, but on the inside, I'm shaking in fear. I'm not scared for my existence – there is nothing more left for me to lose. The fear that's gnawing me is the fear for a part of me that'll die if the Jedi, the sudden link to my past, is caught. Padmé Amidala would never fail to save an innocent life.

Three Storm Troopers enter the row at the back where Kaya and the Jedi are hiding. I hold my breath, the blood pressure behind my ears deafening me. My ears are strained as I listen like I have never listened before, perceiving the slight buzzing of the hoverchair, the clanks in the troopers' armour, the crackling of the floor under their feet. How do the Jedi perceive the world? Can they hear the whispers of the rain, the rustling of the leaves in the forest far away, the sound of a beating heart, and all the faint noises that the human ear could not take in? I don't know – I never asked my husband, and my last chance to learn more of the ways of the Force are about to be robbed from me.

The sound of commotion is loud enough even for my insensitive ears. It isn't much – just the sweet, familiar humming sound of a lightsaber, stifled cries and muffled noises of falling bodies. I straighten in the hoverchair, waiting for the outcome, peering into the shadows. Who was injured there – a friend or a foe? The commander waves his hand, and more troopers head to the back of the room, their posture offensive.

In a fluid motion, the shadows melt, taking shape. The Jedi comes out, incredibly tall and square-shouldered, his dark cloak obscuring his face. He walks as though he had never been injured.

He stops directly in front of the commander.

"You haven't seen anyone in this store," he says softly, waving his hand.

"I haven't seen anyone in this store," the Storm Trooper repeats, his voice strangely detached and monotonous like the one of a machine.

"You and your troop will leave this planet at once," the Jedi continues.

"I and my troop will leave this planet at once."

"Go now."

The commander turns around and exits the store at once, motioning his troopers to follow them. Kaya comes out, her eyes wide in shock. She watches the troopers leave the store one by one. Her grey eyes betray disbelief, but I know Jedi's power enough to know that he's safe for the time being.

"How did you do that?" she asks the Jedi when the last of the Storm Troopers leave. The door slides shut behind them. Nothing remains of their intrusion, except for the bodies at the back…The Jedi starts shaking, his power leaving him. His breathing becomes rattling.

"Mind trick," I reply instead, casting an anxious glance at the Jedi. "I'll explain it to you later," I add hastily. She nods, but I can see that she has many questions, some of which can never be answered.

"Are you alright?" Kaya asks fearfully, grabbing the stranger's arm as his knees give way again. He collapses on the floor, his wound bleeding anew.

Kaya kneels beside him, ripping a piece of her own robe away and pressing the cloth to the wound. It becomes soaked in dark, purple blood within seconds. I move closer to him, inwardly cursing my disabled condition and my inability to help. It is everything I can do to extend my hand and take off his hood.

The Jedi is deathly pale and his eyes are closed. I stroke his forehead, biting my lip in worry. Will I be able to help him, to cure him? There is no one I can go for help – people are too afraid of the Empire. Even Kaya looks hesistant.

His eyes flutter open and he tries to focus on me. He speaks but, at first, I can't comprehend him. Finally, I manage to make some words out, and these words make my heart beat so frantically that I'm afraid it'll explode.

"Padmé…I've … Anakin."