George Lucas pretty much owns everything in the Star Wars universe. My use is in no way meant to challenge his copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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Author's Note: I swore I wouldn't do this, but then the spirit moved me. Since I've had virtually no inspiration to write anything lately, I figured I'd take advantage of my muse's presence while it lasted, whether or not I actually wanted to write the scene I was inspired to write. Basically, this is a reworking of the scene where Anakin talks with Padme in front of the fire. Feel free to fire away with comments/criticisms.
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Soul Mates?
by Nevermore
Padme gazed into the fire before her, basking in the waves of heat that rolled off the flames and over her skin. Her mind wandered into the past, to a happier time before she'd entered politics. Back then, not so long before, she'd had no idea how little her life would actually be hers to live. She'd sacrificed so much, all in the name of an ideal she had hardly understood when her people had elected her queen.
For several months she had ruled with the zeal of youth, and idealistic young woman that had little to fear in such a large galaxy. Then had come the droid armies. And fear. And pain. The fact that she had emerged from those dark days intact, ushering in a golden age with the Naboo working alongside the Gungans, only served to make her feel guilty.
So many people see me as some kind of visionary hero, she thought miserably, when what I probably deserved was to die during that invasion, along with so many of my bravest people. She shook her head, hoping that would chase away her feelings of survivor's guilt. It worked little more than it ever had in the past.
Suddenly, she caught motion at the edge of the dancing shadows created by the fire, and looked up into Anakin's eyes. Part of her welcomed his presence, a diversion from the melancholy that had descended upon her years earlier, never to leave despite her best efforts at finding something – anything – to be happy about. Another part of her, however, recoiled at the sight of the young Jedi. No, Padawan, she corrected herself. He hasn't passed the trials. He's just an apprentice, no matter how powerful he claims to be.
"May I tell you something?" Anakin asked softly, his eyes boring into hers as he so obviously attempted to convey angst. His look alone helped her make up her mind about how she felt about his presence.
"I don't know," Padme answered evasively, hoping Anakin would just leave her alone. She'd rather be alone and miserable than suffer his pathetic attempts at flirtation.
"Than how can I tell you?" Anakin asked. Padme supposed he was trying to be playful, but she simply found herself wanting to scream at him, to just have him say what it was he had to say. I've been a queen and a senator for years, she reminded herself, I don't take particularly kindly to people that waste my time trying to be cute.
"Maybe you should just use your Jedi intuition," she suggested, hoping that his mystical awareness would clue him in to the fact that he should have left her alone by then.
"It doesn't work around you," he claimed. "My mind is always a muddle. I can only think of you."
Is this supposed to be turning me on? she asked silently. Because, oh boy, there's just nothing as attractive in a Republic Senator's eyes as a teenage boy who's so distracted by cleavage that he can't express a coherent thought. "Anakin, don't . . ." she found herself saying, once more hoping he would just leave. Instead, he seemed to take her hesitation as an attempt at playing hard to get. To Padme's disappointment, Anakin seemed more than willing to prove himself worthy of the chase.
"From the moment I met you, all those years ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of you," he said wistfully, causing Padme's eyes to dart quickly around for any sharp objects she could use to slice her wrists. Anything would be better than this crap, she railed silently. Even death. "And now that I'm close to you again, I'm in agony," Anakin professed. Yeah, that makes two of us, Padme thought, trying to focus her mind on projecting the sentiment into Anakin's thoughts. For a Jedi, she found him remarkably incapable of receiving the message. "The closer I get to you, the worse it gets," he continued. "The thought of not being with you makes my stomach turn over. My mouth goes dry. I feel dizzy. I can't breathe." Padme suddenly paid close attention to the symptoms, wondering if perhaps Anakin had contracted the Deruvian flu at some point along their travels. It was highly contagious, and being a senator, she was well aware that her health was of galactic importance. As Anakin continued to speak, unbidden, she decided that he must be trying to say he was lovesick. The realization disheartened her – the Deruvian flu was fatal in at least 20% of its cases, and Padme was surprised to find how willing she was to roll the dice on those odds. Especially with Anakin's life at stake.
"I'm haunted by the kiss you should never have given me," Anakin said, making Padme wonder if he was suddenly trying to make it sound like it was her fault for leading him on. Oh, like a kiss means anything, she thought angrily. Maybe if I nailed you you'd have a worthwhile argument, but a kiss?! Grow up, kid! "My heart is beating, hoping that kiss will not become a scar," he added, making Padme wonder just what in the world he meant. "You are in my very soul, tormenting me. What can I do? I will do anything you ask. . ."
Anything? Padme wondered wickedly, trying to decide the merit of asking the would-be Jedi to slice off his own head with his lightsaber. That would be fitting after that 'you're in my very soul' line. What the hell is that?! Then she remembered that as annoying as the boy was, he was still her bodyguard. I guess I should just put up with his teenage, Spelling-esque diatribes for the time being. At least he's not still whining about how Obi-wan is holding him back, and bragging like a pre-pubescent thug that he's more powerful than the Jedi Master who trains him. And since I'm thinking about Obi-wan, just why in the hell isn't he protecting me? If I'm so damn important, how come they just have an apprentice guarding me? Especially an apprentice whose arrogance and sophomoric demeanor alarms even his own teacher? Exactly who thought up the brilliant idea of sending this kid out alone, without any authority figure to provide guidance and discipline? She pushed her questions from her mind once more, trusting that Master Yoda knew what he was doing. After all, she reminded herself, the Jedi are noble, the defenders of truth and justice in the Republic. If there's any real danger posed by Anakin, or if there's a dark force rising against us, I'm sure they'd warn the Senate. After all, to do otherwise would be deceitful, and the Jedi are nothing if not forthright.
"If you're suffering as much as I am, tell me," Anakin pleaded.
If you only knew, Padme lamented to herself. "I can't . . . we can't. It's just not possible," she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper, deciding to toy with the Padawan a little bit. Being away from Coruscant, Padme had found little to keep her mind occupied. Suddenly bereft of the schemes within schemes that were constantly hatched by her peers, she decided to try to find some kind of solace in playing with Anakin's emotions. After all, she reasoned, the Jedi are trained to sublimate all of their feelings. It's not like the kid would totally freak out and go postal on me or something. As insufferable as the boy was, she was at least certain that he was emotionally stable. It's not like the Jedi would train someone that would later turn out to be a mass murderer.
"Anything's possible," Anakin said confidently. "Padme, please listen --"
"-- You listen," she said curtly, finally deciding she'd had enough of his adolescent behavior. "We live in a real world – come back to it. You're studying to become a Jedi Knight. I'm a senator. If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, they'll take us to a place we cannot go . . . regardless of the way we feel about each other." She fought back a smile at her last words, knowing the ambiguity of her statement would only serve to tear at Anakin that much more. That kid seriously needs to get laid, she decided, wondering if maybe one of her handmaidens would feel up to the task. And, of course, they look like me, too, so maybe he'd be fine with it, she decided.
"Then you feel something!" Anakin said excitedly, triumphantly, as if he'd made some profound discovery, such as the nature of the universe just before the Big Bang. "There's an extraordinary connection between us. You can't deny that."
"Annie," Padme began, taking a perverse delight in referring to him by a girl's name. With the way he's whining, he sounds enough like a little girl. "It doesn't make any difference. Jedi aren't allowed to marry. You swore an oath, remember?" she asked, deciding that for her next source of amusement she would make the child feel guilty about his feelings for her, only moments after she led him on by holding out the possibility of her affection for him. "You'd be expelled from the Order. I will not let you give up your responsibilities – your future – for me." Even though I'm certainly worth it, she added silently.
"I was destined to be a Jedi; I don't think I could be anything else," Anakin returned confidently, disgusting Padme with the way he once again spoke of himself as the object of prophecy. Like he's even done anything worthy of such arrogance, she thought sourly. All he's done is steal one of my people's starfighters ten years ago and blow up the power source of a single capital ship. Whoopty-doo… like no one's ever done that before. I've led a successful rebellion against the Trade Federation, united the two intelligent species on my world, and served years in the Republic Senate, fighting to avert a galactic war. It's called perspective, kid. Find some. "But you are asking me to be rational. That is something I know I cannot do," Anakin continued, finally giving Padme something she felt she could agree on. "I wish I could wish my feelings away, but I can't."
"I am not going to give in to this," Padme stated evenly, trying to demonstrate to the boy what it was to accept responsibility. "I'm not going to throw my life away. I have more important things to do than fall in love." There, that should do it, she decided. I don't know how much clearer I can be.
"It wouldn't have to be that way," Anakin suggested. "We could keep it a secret." Interesting, but what if someone caught us passing notes during third period? she wondered mirthfully. A secret liaison? Gee, what the hell kind of books do the Jedi have in their library? This kid talks like he grew up on a steady supply of crappy romance novels. Why couldn't Mace Windu be the one talking like this? I'd give him a toss. Obi-wan, too. What the hell does this kid think he has to offer that would in the least bit interest a senator? What a pain…
"Then we'd be living a lie," Padme pointed out. "One we couldn't keep up even if we wanted to." Because, like, you live in the Jedi Temple. Like you wouldn't run into anyone there that might figure out you're seeing someone on the sly. Use your head, jackass. "Could you live like that?"
"No, you're right," Anakin answered. "It would destroy us." Padme breathed a sigh of relief as she finally heard a sensible statement issue forth from her bodyguard's lips. Just how long am I going to have to put up with this twerp? she wondered.
Fin