Chapter Twelve

Flaws

In a mirror on a dresser in a Senator's bedroom there was a reflection. A reflection of a young woman who in that moment looked more like a young girl.

It was in her eyes. Her face was guant, the dark circles under her eyelashes started to resemble bruises. And her skin was pale.

And in that way she looked like a woman and not like a child.

But not in her eyes. Not in the dimming glow in her topaz eyes, a gemstone suddenly becoming dull. In her eyes there was the sadness of a lost child.

Padmé had been many people's beacon of hope in a place that seemed to have everything but hope.

In a place where politicians reigned to take things away from their people. In a world where politicians ruled for wealth and power. And not to make the world better.

In a place where democracy seemed terrifyingly temporary. Like a thing that a person had run ahead of and couldn't get back to.

Like sitting in a speeder and watching something beautiful fade away. The head-lights of another speeder. The face of a friend. Something a person didn't want to leave behind.

There were things in the world that were good to leave behind. Like pain and self-doubt. Like helplessness.

But democracy was not one of those things.

And no matter what Padmé did democracy was struggling to catch up with her and then she looked behind and she ran towards it. But the harder she tried and the faster she ran the farther away it got.

A month ago she would have consoled herself.

"You have Anakin and your children."

But she didn't have Anakin.

He was barely awake in a med-center that reminded her of death. And she knew he was alive and he was going to be alive.

But in the moment it seemed like forever. Like he was forever gone.

Luke and Leia didn't cry much anymore. She didn't know whether that relieved her or made her all the more they learned to be hopeless? Just like everybody else? Had they learned to be hopeless in an age where all they should have had was hope?

Hopelessness was always light-years ahead. A part of growing up.

They had a long ways to go. But she feared that they were hopeless now as she listened to their silence.

She picked up Leia and rubbed the baby girl's back and all she could think of was how Anakin should have been there. He should have been there holding Luke.

There wasn't enough of her to go around. She knew they both needed her, but she felt so terribly alone.

How was she going to show them she loved them both?

If she coddled Luke would that upset Leia?

And if she focused on Leia would that upset Luke?

Luke. She looked at the baby sleeping in his crib and all she could think about was if he would be okay.

If he was like his father.

There were things in Anakin she'd love to see in Luke. His bravery and his kindness and his loyalty. His carefree sort of whimsy.

But there were things in Anakin she didn't want to see in Luke. Like his pain and his self-doubt.

Anakin didn't turn to the dark side the way he did in her dreams.

But it didn't matter.

She didn't want Luke to feel the way she knew Anakin had.

She remembered holding Anakin at the Lars remembered how he cried and how he couldn't stop the rage.

She never wanted her little Luke to be somewhere where he felt he had no other option but to break.

Anakin had broken many times. He always put himself back together.

But even still she never wanted to see that happen to Luke.

And that was such a stupid thing to want. Because everybody broke at one time or another. Whether it was Anakin. Whether it was herself. Whether it was the neighbor who she never saw the classmate who always looked a little sad. Or even the friend who always smiled.

Everybody broke. Because that was life.

She kissed the top of Luke's head and put him in his crib.

And then in ritualistic fashion she picked up little Leia.

Leia gave her hope. The word strong was not a word someone used to describe an infant.

But she felt that when she looked at Leia.

She felt nothing but strength and perseverance.

She felt the rational part of herself in Leia.

The rational part that was falling away from her. Slipping through her fingers.

It was such a stupid thing to believe.

To decide how someone else would be before 'that someone' even knew what the words strength and perseverance meant. To decide to attach qualities to a person who might not want those qualities for themselves.

She sighed and cleared her thoughts before they became too big for her to handle.

Too complicated. But that was Padmé.

Trying to make so much sense of everything to the point where nothing made sense anymore.

She kissed Leia's cheek and put the baby girl back in her crib.

She felt Sola's hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Padmé. Go finish getting ready. I'll make sure they're fine."

"Will you contact me if anything happens?"

"What person wouldn't?" Sola asked sarcastically

"Don't make me seem like an idiot, Sola."

"You do that fine by yourself."

Padmé smirked.

"I'm used to your paranoia. Don't worry." Sola said. It sounded reassuring even thought it wasn't a compliment.

To Padmé it sounded more like "You're flawed, but that's fine. I still love you no matter what."

Padmé smiled and walked out the door quietly. She smiled even though she still felt sad. It was the only way. Maybe she could pretend she was happy.

Even for a little while. A little while was better than nothing at all. It was better than never.

"I can still be happy," she thought.

"Even though I have every reason to be sad."

I can still be happy.