Chapter Eight

The blackened void impedes her steps as Padmé struggles through it. Invisible hands in the dark seem to push against her, but she shoves her way past them, tears streaming down her face, the pain of her past suffering ripping through her soul.

Just beyond opens the path of peace she is looking for. The road leading to the place where the younglings whom Anakin had murdered passed through.

An angry hand swipes away tears of turmoil. She knows now. She remembers it all. Understands everything.

Except one thing. One question stands out in her mind. But she doesn't care enough to stay and seek the answer . She only wants the peace that comes with forgetting. The blissful ignorance that she had experienced before.

Hasn't she suffered enough?

Just a few more steps and she will become one with the Force. She won't have to think about what it means to be Padmé Amidala any more, because Padmé Amidala will no longer exist.

Not that she does now. Or does she?

"I died! I gave birth and then I died!" She cries out in frustration to the Force. "What more do you want from me?"

This isn't what she had expected of the after-life. What she had been told since a child. The stories and myths told of passing into an existence of happiness and contentment. There is no happiness here. Only the painful reminder of complete and utter loss. Failure and defeat.

And what about this body she possesses now? No longer the transparent image she had originally been, or even the bluish tint that Qui-Gon appears to be, she now has the appearance of her previous human form. Whole and complete, but without blemish or scar.

The confusion twists her mind and she shoves it away, along with the hands that continually attempt to push her back. Just a few more steps and she will be free.

There will no more pain. No more longing. No regret.

With a burst of energy, Padmé thrusts her body into the Netherworld of the Force, that half of her grabbed onto by what feels like numerous hands of all sizes, some of them painfully tight upon her arm and leg.

The other half of her still in the dark void is abruptly gripped by something else. A single large hand holding onto her wrist with equal strength.

Padmé twists her head to glare into the pleading eyes of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Let me go!" She screams at the blue apparition.

"I won't! You cannot do this!" Qui-Gon yells back over the rising cacophony of laughing children which emerges from the heavily wooded area beyond.

The young woman grits her teeth in pain. It feels like she is being pulled apart.

"You don't understand!" She argues. "I don't want to remember! It hurts too much! Please! I just want to forget!"

"Dammit, woman! Stop thinking only of yourself! This isn't the Padmé Amidala I remember. There is someone who needs you!"

Padmé continues to struggle, pulling against the firm grip that Qui-Gon has on her arm.

"Who?" She yells at him. "Anakin? I'm afraid he's beyond my help now, Qui-Gon!" She bites back sarcastically. "Frankly, I don't want to see him again. He's lost to me."

"I am not talking about Anakin." QuiGon replies, feeling an easing on her pull of resistance. "It's Obi-Wan who needs your help."