Anakin watched as Padmé's chest went up and down with the rhythm of her sleeping. She was so tired lately and it worried him, it worried him to feel so powerless. Anytime she looked at him he smiled, but inside he wasn't sure some hidden darkness remained in his heart it kept hissing doubt into his ear.
Did I make the right choice? Did I doom her to death?
He moved to her bedside, combing her hair softly and kissed her cheek, and then turned to his droid, "Artoo, keep an eye on her okay?" The droid chirped in acknowledgment, his head swiveling.
Anakin arrived only a few days after Padmé, they had decided to stay at the lake house in Naboo, like she always wanted. Anakin was prepared for an awkward conversation with Ruwee and Jobal about the pregnancy, or the marriage, but there never was, they simply acknowledged it and welcomed him into their home and their family. Like he was always meant to be there, acceptance never came easy to Anakin, but for the first time since he was a boy he wasn't the chosen one, or The Hero with No Fear, or a Jedi, he was simply a man who was going to be a father. He loved it here, on Coruscant the Force was strong, but constantly buzzed around like an insect, everything about the planet was a distraction, or an illusion. Here, he decided, here everything was better. The air was perfumed from the blooms of hundreds of flowers, the colour a wide palette, more various than Padmé's wardrobe.
He told Padmé that he decided to leave the order, that he could never leave her. Anakin remarked on how sad she looked at the news, but she understood that there was no perfect choice, but at least they didn't have to hide anymore. Anakin had taken to wearing his wedding band in public, and he looked down at his hand, turning the band on his hand, which had now been on his hand for over a month now. He was more happy than he had ever been, and it would be any day now until he would be welcoming his own family into the world, and any time that hissing voice would enter his ears he would crush it until it silenced itself. They still hadn't discussed names, and Padmé didn't want to know the sex of the child yet. "I want it to be a surprise Ani!" She would often say, Anakin suspected she was carrying a son, and he mused on calling him after his former master Qui-Gon.
He made himself a cup of caf not wishing to bother Padmé's many handmaidens that he never really wanted to admit that he couldn't really tell them all apart. Sitting at a table near a large open balcony he laughed to himself how quickly he had settled into domesticity, it wasn't much different to being a Jedi he figured. He was already used to waking up very early, which left him time to drink caf, and think on his life. After months of being at war, he never wanted to take these silent moments for granted. The air was warm, but not unbearably so, a few children's toys were in the corner of the kitchen, given to the Naberrie family as gifts as soon as people found their favourite senator was expecting. Everyone loved Padmé, and she loved her people. Anakin walked over to pick up a stuffed Shaak, it was fuzzy and plump. Anakin smiled and moved the plushed animal to his face and rubbed it slightly over his cheek, remembering when Padmé and he first came to Naboo together. He put the toy back down, "I remember when Padmé was born, Ruwee couldn't sleep all he did was drink caf and pace around." Anakin turned to greet Padmé's personal nurse, an older woman named Winama Typho. "I didn't see you there, I was just..."
"Pacing and drinking caf?"
Anakin let loose some laughter, "yeah I suppose I am."
She put her hand on Anakin's shoulder, "Padmé will be fine, trust me. She's stronger than you think."
"I think she's stronger than me, I don't know how she does it." Anakin stated
"Training, practice...I suppose she gets that from her mother."
Anakin looked down at the floor, and stared at his muddled reflection in the shining material in the floor. He took another sip from his cup and placed it on the counter, "I should go."
Winama bowed, "Of course."
Anakin turned to walk out, but he turned around to face Winama, "Thanks, I needed this chat."
She turned her head, cradling it with her shoulder, her eyes giving a slight twinkle, "I know, you aren't the first father I've seen pacing around the kitchen."
Anakin gave a smile and a curt nod.
Anakin popped down to the ground floor of the house and put on an orange suit made of a sturdy fabric covered in oil stains, trading one uniform for another, Anakin inspected his jumpsuit for any tears. He had started his own business fixing up droids and ships and had become quite well known in the community for being able to fix anything. He once hated his life being a slave on Tatooine, but as a Jedi, sometimes he missed it more than anything, the simplicity of just fixing a droid. Life was much simpler when you were fixing things.
It was Padmé's idea, "You'll go stir crazy just staying here doing nothing. You can't go from being a Jedi Knight flying about the Outer Rim and Wild Space and then come to Varykino and do nothing." He knew she was right, but he insisted he had no marketable skills, but that led to his wife giving her famous eye-roll. He opened a small warehouse and spoke to some of the townspeople about his idea. Quickly people warmed to it, him being the husband of Senator Amidala certainly helped. He already had several ships that needed maintenance and a cart of droids of various designations that required everything from an oil bath, to a full rewiring. Sometimes he missed the excitement of being a Jedi, but for now, this life was all he needed.
Anakin pinged his communicator for a final time to Artoo, "Artoo, I mean it, if anything happens to Padmé, contact me immediately." Artoo chirped back, "Ok, or it's the garbage heap for you." Anakin mounted a speeder, and buckled a helmet over his head, and head down the hill towards his garage.
He still wasn't used to the greenery of Naboo, it was such a shock from living on Tatooine to living on Coruscant for years. Every time he looked, the greenery, and the sky went on forever, it was as lush and beautiful as Padmé, Anakin mused. He still hadn't been able to sleep lately, but now it was due to nerves of being a first time father, and not due to terrible dreams of Padmé dying. Anakin was starting to wonder why the nightmares stopped after he had killed Palpatine. Or if the two were connected.
Was he to blame for the nightmares? Was that possible?
There was so much he didn't know, so much he let happen. Anakin squeezed the handles of his speeder, he could hear a teaching from Obi-Wan from when he was still a very young Padawan; let your anger go Anakin, it only betrays you. He was often a slave to his emotions, or to duty. For some reason he thought of the pilot he met as a child on Tatooine who once told him that what you're born as, isn't always what you'll die as. He promised himself he would never be a slave again, and for once be free to do as he wanted.
Anakin kept his eyes on the garage ahead of him, slowing he speeder to a stop he looked at his warehouse, and he knew that he was truly free. He parked his speeder and went inside. He waved his hand and the lighting activated revealing his small shop, and his latest project. A Firespray-class interceptor was in dire need of repair, and he was still waiting on a few replacement parts for the F-31 drive engines which should have arrived by now. Still, Anakin mused to himself, he could still fix the tractor beam projector and grabbed a hydrospanner. He just needed to fix something, and be useful.
He was underneath the ship, completely lost in thought. His mind more on autopilot fixing the projector, it was a simple job so his mind kept moving towards being a father. He never had a father growing up, not that it was odd as a slave, most times families were separated from each other. But he knew the circumstances surrounding his birth were odd. How could he be a good father if he never knew one. Anakin at that moment wished he could have known Qui-Gon longer than a few days before he died. As a child he stared at the rare holo-vid of Jedi fighting, or just appearing behind some Republic dignitary. They were the heroes of all the holo-vid movies, and the heroes in his dreams who came to save all the slaves. When he first met Qui-Gon he believed with all his heart that no one could ever best a Jedi, he quickly learned and kept learning that it wasn't true. Jedi were not all powerful, or incapable of being corrupt or weak. He himself had been weak. Would he be a father like Qui-Gon, wise and flexible, or more like Obi-Wan, the Jedi who was thrust into responsibility and raised Anakin? He didn't know, but he reminded himself that as long as he loved his child and took care of him, all the rest would fall into place. Or so he hoped.
He was nearly through fixing the projector, underneath the ship, oil streaks on his face and in his hair, he was always happiest when he was fixing things that he didn't hear his communicator going off on the work-bench. Dropping the hydrospanner it skidded away from his grasp, rolling out from under the interceptor to grab it when someone he didn't hear enter bent down to pick it up. Before he had a chance to ask who it was the stranger replied, "I think it's time to go Skyguy."
