Chapter Seven - Enter Enmity

The disaster was not concluded yet.

Another announcement came over the newsnets the third night after the Temple massacre. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, using the emergency powers that he had never relinquished, declared himself Emperor of the Galaxy. He claimed that this move was done at the encouragement of the majority of the representatives in the Galactic Senate. Nobody would dispute Palpatine, with the might of a vast clone army standing behind him.

Padmé was up late, checking her messages when she read the proclamation. Oh, Force, I did this. I let him manipulate me into getting Valorum out of the way, now look what I've done. This is why the Jedi were slaughtered, there's no way they would have stood by and let it happen. Her shock was so great that it woke Obi-Wan out of a dead sleep.

Once they both digested the news, the Jedi spent over an hour in meditation while the Senator walked around the house, wringing her hands and gnawing the inside of her lip. Threepio meant well, but after his fourth request to be of service, Padmé shut him down in a fit of impatience. When Obi-Wan emerged from his chamber, he could see her in the parlor, where she was pacing. "What are we going to do about this?" Padmé asked, coming into the common room.

Obi-Wan sat at the table, his gaze still worried-grey. His job now was to help her sort out her priorities. "What's more important to you, M'Lady? The continued existence of a sickly and fragile government, or the well-being of your family? Because if you come out of hiding now, it'll be either-or." Kenobi gestured to Padmé's stomach, which would be noticeable, even through the stiff layers of senatorial garb that she used to wear.

"I'm supposed to sit by and watch the work of a dozen years be destroyed?" she barked. "I have been a public servant for most of my life, I will not –"

Obi-Wan's response was as calm as Padmé's was heated. "You are not a Queen or a Senator any longer, you are a consultant. You have different work now. What would you be able to change, by yourself, if you came out of hiding?" He took her hands in hers, holding her defiant stare with his gaze.

"This is bigger than I am, it's worth the risk to me to do something about this," Padmé protested.

"Please, M'Lady, think of what will happen to your children if you come out of hiding."

She glared at him. "It's worth the risk," she repeated.

"It had better be, M'Lady. If you let Emperor Palpatine know where you are, you and your children will die. You said that this situation is bigger than you. Anakin's children," Obi-Wan continued, pressing her hands to her belly as he emphasized this single, fragile link to her late husband, "are the only thing that he's afraid of."

Padmé's mouth moved without words. When she found her voice, it was small and sorrowful. "Gods damn it, Obi-Wan, this is my fault. I initiated that Vote of No Confidence in the Senate when the Trade Federation invaded."

"I remember," Obi-Wan replied. "You cannot blame yourself for his actions; you might as well have blamed the Jedi for this. But the Dark Side clouds many things, and he is a Force user. I should have seen this coming, but I didn't believe it when Count Dooku told me that there was a Sith Lord in control of the Senate. My Lady, Palpatine would have found another way," Obi-Wan said sadly. Padmé left the common room, needing some time to think.

Obi-Wan hesitated, then followed her to her bedchamber. "M'Lady, may I share something? It will be disturbing, but I think you deserve to know. It might help."

She frowned, eyes narrowing. "You may."

The Jedi led Padmé to her bed. She sat upon it, and he propped pillows behind her to make sure she was comfortable. Then Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the bed, facing his charge. His hands grasped hers again. "Close your eyes, clear your mind."

Padmé snorted.

He chuckled humorlessly, acknowledging the difficulty of his request, then repeated, "Clear your mind." Obi-Wan summoned the Force, using it to recall every detail of the visions he had experienced when he had first arrived on Naboo after Anakin's death. Then he projected the sounds and images to Padmé's mind. He felt her desire to recoil as she experienced his agony, but she stayed resolute, even when she watched herself collapse as though dead. Padmé was as confused as he still was at her absence from the second vision, but she understood its meaning.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened to see tears on Padmé's face. He understood her sense of uselessness, her desire to act when the Force needed her to wait. The Force was commanding him to wait, too, a lifetime if necessary. But if anyone would succeed at removing the Emperor from his usurped throne, it would be her children, and others like them. Padmé cursed as the necessity of inaction hit her; her family had to be her priority. Padmé couldn't save the galaxy, but they could. She wasn't sure how, but she was willing to obey the Force.

Padmé sniffed, wiping the tears away. "My life's work has been for nothing," she murmured.

"You saved your people, and they love you for it. Your royal and senatorial expertise are unmatched, and you are indispensable to Her Royal Highness. Your children will need you to teach them what you know. What better mother could they have, M'Lady?" The Knight's eyes were light blue and smiling as he moved off the bed.

The former politician leaned against her pillows. "Thank you, that was very kind."

"It is the truth. Get some sleep," Obi-Wan said. He left her bedchamber.

*

Obi-Wan entered the dark common room, sat in the first chair he came to, and lowered his head into his hands. He'd helped Padmé sort out her priorities, but he wasn't sure that his own were as they should be. A Sith Lord - Darth Sidious - had just made himself Emperor. If it wasn't for his responsibility to this family, Obi-Wan would be able to join the few remaining Jedi and act upon this, although he didn't know what so few of them could do.

*

Later that night, Obi-Wan dreamed of the last time he had seen Anakin. He wept tears of frustration in his sleep as his surrogate son attacked him, eyes reflecting the furious glow of his lightsaber. Obi-Wan had had to tell Padmé how Anakin died, but he didn't know how to tell her that he'd been battling against a Sith. He was the only living Jedi who had done that before and knew how it felt. The terrible knowledge flowed through Obi-Wan's consciousness again as he parried and countered Anakin's strikes in his dream, intent on staying alive until he could find a way to subdue the Dark Side in his friend.

And then, just as he'd known it would, the ground broke under Anakin's feet and swallowed him up…No! Anakin, I can't get you out what is wrong with me? Must get help - run - get help gethelpgethelp…

Anakin's screams filled the cave, following Obi-Wan into the night as his feet pounded the ground,
thumpget thumphelp…

Oh Force, I'm losing him again!


Obi-Wan woke so violently that he fell from his mattress to the floor. The moonlight streamed in through his window, bathing him in silver as he tried to separate present from past, dream from reality.

He heard his chamber door open, then ragged breathing. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

Still disoriented and gasping for breath, he said, "What?"

"I saw it. I had no idea, why didn't you tell me that he had turned," Padmé said, sobbing. "He was my husband, I had a right to know," she snarled.

She's a Force-sensitive, Obi-Wan remembered. She saw the dream, too. He could feel pity, indignation, rage, and fresh sorrow battling for prominence in her mind. Oh, Chaos, she saw exactly how he died, she knows he embraced the Dark Side, I never wanted that, he thought. With only a faint groan to acknowledge his tense body, he stood and moved to the door. "I'm sorry," he began.

"Sorry," her voice hissed in the darkness. Without warning, he felt fire blaze across his face as her fury and grief exploded. "You left him to die, you ran away, I saw it, how could you?!" Her words broke through the inner peace that was his core, battered and broke Obi-Wan's heart as her small fists tried to pass her pain on to him. "You could have saved him, you're a Jedi, you'd fought the Dark Side before, you should know what to do to save him," she shouted as he caught her wrists in his hands. "Why, damn it, why did he have to die?!" Padmé tried to wrench her arms from his iron grip, but failed. Her legs collapsed under the weight of her grief and she crumpled to the floor, crying.

Obi-Wan knelt next to her in the heavy darkness, her arms still in his grasp. Padmé's hands moved toward him and he flinched again, his hands gripping her wrists even tighter. Her sobbing doubled, which Obi-Wan hadn't thought possible, then he understood.

He released her wrists, which were around his neck a moment later. Padmé's anger was spent for the moment, now she needed comfort. Being the only other sentient within a dozen kilometers, he had to serve as the recipient of both. Warily, he put his arms around her. Obi-Wan rocked Padmé as he imagined she would someday soothe her babies, murmuring apologies and comfort in her ear as she wept.

Padmé hiccupped, the loudness of the sound startling him because she had pressed her cheek to his. Her skin felt wet – of course, she was crying – but sticky? Obi-Wan pulled back. His callused fingers tilted her face into the moonlight; there was a smear of dark on her temple. "M'Lady," he cried in alarm. He wiped away the blood, trying to see where Padmé had hurt herself, but there was no wound.

Her eyes opened. "Oh," came a gasp from in front of him. "Oh, I'm sorry," Padmé whispered, grabbing a sheet and his water cup from the bedside table.

A cool, firm touch made his face burn. "Ah!" Obi-Wan exclaimed as Padmé rinsed away the blood she had drawn.

"I'm sorry," she wept again, blotting his face. "I didn't mean to – I'm so sorry."

Obi-Wan lied over and over through his gritted teeth as she fetched salve and applied it to the shallow gash. "It's all right, M'Lady. It's just a scratch."

It wasn't really all right. Padmé's words had injured him far more than her hands ever could have. You ran away, I saw it…Why did he have to die… Obi-Wan said what he needed to so that Padmé would return to her bedchamber, then gave up on rest for that night. He spent the hours until sunup pacing the floor, unwilling to surrender to sleep ever again.

*

Padmé sat at her commstation, checking for messages. She leaned forward over her large abdomen so she could read the small print clearly.

Obi-Wan plodded into the kitchen and began to make tea. He looked awful. They glanced guiltily at each other's badges of their encounter from the previous night: Padmé's wrists were mottled black and blue, and a shallow wound crawled under one of Obi-Wan's tired eyes. "What news from the outside worlds, M'Lady?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Padmé fetched some salve from the refresher and followed Obi-Wan into the kitchen. Obi-Wan grimaced as he submitted to her touch, letting her dab the ointment onto his wound. "Thank you, Padmé," he murmured. He took hold of her wrists and used the Force like the Master Healers had always taught would accelerate healing, eyes bleaching from grey to light blue as he did.

Padmé smiled her thanks, shaking the pins-and-needles sensation out of her hands. She remembered his question and grimaced. "Imperial officials are visiting all of the planets within their borders, to make judgments about their sovereignty – whether they will stay self-governed under Palpatine or have a planetary governor rule the planet in his name." She leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded, disgust distorting her lovely countenance. "Queen Jamilla of Naboo will be honored tomorrow morning to welcome the Emperor's lieutenant, the Lord Darth Vader, for an official visit over the next tenday." Padmé's sarcastic tone of voice expressed her true feelings on the subject of the usurper and his New Order.

She was going to continue, but she heard a teacup shatter. Before Padmé could catch her breath, Obi-Wan fled the kitchen and peered at her commstation. Threepio shuffled into the kitchen, audibly fretting about the broken glass. Padmé heard him breathe, "Darth Vader?"

She was two seconds behind him. "You know the name?" Padmé asked, surprised.

"I know the title," Obi-Wan replied tersely. Sidious and Vader. Master and apprentice. Padmé had laid a challenge at his feet only hours before: You'd fought the Dark Side before; you should know what to do. But this was different than his skirmishes against Anakin, Count Dooku, and the Sith that had murdered Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was looking after someone other than himself now.

Padmé had never previously seen that look on his face. Indeed, Padmé had never seen any Jedi look truly scared, not even when they were fighting for their lives on Geonosis. Obi-Wan straightened, his face pale and pinched. "I have to get to the palace. I won't be long."

"Why? Who is he?" Padmé followed him to his bedchamber, but he shut the door before she could pursue the matter further. "Jedi," she muttered, leaning against the wall.

When he emerged a minute later, Padmé's jaw dropped in disbelief. Obi-Wan was dressed in the civilian clothes that she had ordered for him months ago. He had tried, and failed, to hide his disdain for the stiff, fashionable garments when they'd arrived. He straightened his hair with one hand as he tugged at the robes with the other. "He's a Sith Lord, M'Lady. A dark Jedi." Obi-Wan rushed past her, towards the front door.

Now Padmé understood. It was possible that Obi-Wan and the two Jedi healers could be discovered by another Force user within a planetary radius. "Be safe and hurry home," she instructed.

Obi-Wan hesitated, hand on the doorlatch. Their eyes met, and his gentle smile untied some of the anxious knots in Padmé's gut. "Thanks. I won't be long." The Jedi rushed into the snowstorm.

The wind's icy fingers stirred Padmé's hair and clothing. She walked outside, listening to the old speeder roar to life. The sound quickly faded away to the silence of snow falling.

It was not the redheaded Jedi's smile that caused her face to burn. She was pregnant, after all. It was just hormones.

Yes, that was it.

*

Obi-Wan returned two hours later, shaking snow from his hair and robe as he ascended the porch steps two at a time. Padmé opened the door for him, looking apprehensive. "Olau and Yung are taken care of," he announced.

"Taken care of?" she echoed as he walked into the house.

"If it was just us, we would investigate, and fight if we had to. But we have other things to attend to now. None of us are going to do you any good dead or incarcerated for attacking the Emperor's messenger," Obi-Wan replied. He shed his outer robe and looped it over his arm. "Closing down the body and the conscious mind will lessen the chance of detection. It's drastic, but if I lower my defenses for a moment, or use the Force for anything at all, he'll know I'm here. And if I've ever been in his presence before, he could recognize me, which could lead him to you." He stopped her at the door of his chamber. He looked nervous, and his cheeks were still bright red from the cold outside. "M'Lady, will you bring me a glass of water in five minutes?" Padmé nodded as Obi-Wan shut his door.

As instructed, she knocked on his door, water in hand. "Come in." Padmé entered the bedchamber, then averted her eyes. Though he was sitting up in bed and hidden by a coverlet to his waist, the Jedi appeared to be unclothed. Seeing her blush, Obi-Wan said, "Excuse me, M'Lady, but hibernation is less uncomfortable this way." Padmé nodded and offered the glass, glancing at his well-defined torso through lowered lashes. He drank the water quickly. Sensing uncertainty, Obi-Wan looked at her.

"What should I do?" Padmé asked.

"Keep your mind off of Vader or me. It is necessary, M'Lady," he added upon hearing her soft snort of disbelief. "Keep your thoughts on books and small tasks. No newsnets, but check your messages." Obi-Wan's eyes, still pale blue, sought hers again, adding their weight to his requests.

She nodded, then informed him, "I meant, what's going to happen to you?"

"Oh. At first, I'll just seem to be asleep, but by the end of the tenday, I'll appear to be dead." Padmé looked apprehensive. "I will come out of it, M'Lady."

"When?"

"I may wake as Vader leaves," the Knight answered.

"May? And if you don't?" Padmé was furious at his wording, and annoyed that it frightened her.

Obi-Wan reached out to calm her, and to emphasize his words. His grip was still icy from his dash to the palace, but the cold touch felt good on Padmé's aching wrist. "Wait until Vader has been out of the system for a full day. It may take a few minutes, but I will come around when you use the phrase, 'All is well.'" He hesitated, then added, "Keep your distance. Dreams can be intense and even violent, and they can carry over into the first few waking moments. Don't wake me until he's gone, unless he shows up on your doorstep."

"Oh, Chaos, don't even joke about that," Padmé protested, shuddering. Then her thoughts lit upon something he said before. "You dream while you hibernate?"

"Vividly, although I won't remember most of it. And anything that might wake me from normal sleep will just be ignored." Obi-Wan glanced at his chronometer, then looked at Padmé. "You'll be all right, M'Lady."

Alone for ten days. The thought came unbidden into her mind, but outwardly she just smiled and said, "All is well?" He nodded. "Good dreams then, Master Jedi."

Obi-Wan watched his friend leave the chamber, then laid back on the bed. Deep breaths…relax… He closed his eyes.

*

In the tenday that followed, Padmé figured out that, as irritating as he could be, she preferred Obi-Wan Kenobi conscious and underfoot. Threepio and Artoo hovered about to keep her company and make up for his chores, but she still missed the Jedi. The expectant mother spent time in the Kabon stretches that Obi-Wan had taught her, surprised at how simply holding her body in a position and breathing could strengthen her, both physically and mentally.

At times it was difficult to decide which made her more nervous - the fact that there was a Sith Lord within a hundred kilometers of her home, or that there was a man that was lying as though dead in her home. A coded message from one of Queen Jamilla's handmaidens changed that, however: Imperial shuttle flew in a search pattern over the Lake Country before arrival. Vader asking about you daily. Stay put.

Padmé read the message twice, then deleted it and turned her commstation off. Thanks a lot, that's the way to calm me down, she thought sarcastically. She had no reasonable idea what a Sith Lord would want with her. The only thing that wasn't far-fetched was that Palpatine wanted to make sure the former Senator was well. If either Vader or Palpatine has good intentions, I'll shave my head, she concluded.

She spent several minutes calmly pacing the floor, walking in and out of bedchambers, refreshers, and the common room. As Padmé entered the parlor, she had an idea. She chose a book off the shelves and took it to the Jedi's chamber. He said that normal sensory input would be ignored, so he won't mind. Sitting in a chair, she opened the book and began to read it aloud. This became part of Padmé's routine for the rest of the tenday, until Vader was gone. Although she felt apprehensive about the Sith Lord's presence on the planet, both reading and Kabon relaxed her.

*

On the day that Vader was scheduled to leave Naboo, Padmé checked her messages hourly, waiting for news. The hoped-for message arrived an hour after sundown, and she was waiting for the time that Obi-Wan could wake up.

Padmé continued to obey Obi-Wan's request to keep her thoughts on small tasks, even though Vader was well on his way. She even half-expected the Jedi to walk in at any time, because he said that he might come out of the trance on his own. Padmé left his chamber door open so she could hear if he made any noise or needed help. As the day waned, she prepared dinner.

Just after sundown, Padmé entered the chamber. A tray bearing a pitcher, glass, and several kiri fruits was in her hands. She set the tray on the bedstand and moved back to the doorway. As she turned the light on, she began to talk. "It's Padmé, Obi-Wan. All is well." Nothing. She felt a sour flutter of dread in her stomach. "Obi-Wan, all is well."

As she called the Jedi out of hibernation, Padmé thought to herself, He looks awful, emaciated, even. His skin is so grey. I hope he'll be all right. But even as that thought crossed her mind, Obi-Wan's breath rattled in his chest. Her own breath rushed out in a sigh of relief. Suddenly Obi-Wan's eyes burst open, moving wildly was he half shouted, half croaked, "Anakin!"

Padmé stepped back, startled, but she had more important things to do than dwell on the Jedi's utterance. Even this one. She'd had no idea that Obi-Wan would be such a mess. "Artoo," she called. The little droid rolled in, beeping. "You and Threepio run a warm bath for Master Kenobi, then put a clean towel and one of the chairs from the common room in the refresher.

As Artoo complied, Padmé sat on the edge of the bed, next to Obi-Wan's shoulder. His pale eyes followed her every move. She smiled and said sweetly, "Master Kenobi, you look like poodoo." One silvering eyebrow quirked upward. Padmé reached out and wrapped the coverlet securely around his body and said, "You're going to sit up now." She hugged his chest and lifted Obi-Wan into a sitting position against the wall.

"You're not supposed to strain yourself, M'Lady," Obi-Wan rasped, coughing.

"You weigh less than I do, after this stunt you pulled," she retorted. Padmé stood and walked to the tray she had brought in. "Would you like some water?"

"Please."

She poured a cup, half of which he managed to spill on himself. Obi-Wan grimaced; it tasted awful, though that was because he hadn't cleaned his teeth in several days. Without missing a beat, Padmé refilled the cup. This time she held her hand over his to steady the cup as he drank. His skin tone was unquestionably better; his ears and cheeks were turning pink. A third cup of water went down just as quickly, then Padmé handed Obi-Wan a small, sweet kiri fruit. As he ate it, she opened his closet door and pulled out a clean pair of breeches and his shabby brown cloak. She waited until he had consumed another piece of fruit, then settled the cloak over his shoulders. Padmé was taken aback when she noticed a large scar on his upper left arm.

He saw what she was looking at. "Thank Count Dooku for that one," the Jedi muttered wryly.

Padmé nodded. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten. As she overlapped the front edges of the cloak across his chest, she asked, "Want a bath?"

Obi-Wan's eyes looked hopeful while his mouth frowned. How does he do that? Padmé wondered idly. She took hold of his legs under the coverlet, swinging them over the edge of the bed. Taking his hand, Padmé sat again. She slung his arm across her shoulders, then counted, "Three, two, one, now." They staggered a little, then steadied as she put an arm around the Jedi's waist. Obi-Wan's cheeks were still glowing as the coverlet fell to the floor, but his robe kept him mostly covered.

As they entered the refresher, she asked, "Can you handle this by yourself, or will you need my help?" The devout Jedi Knight looked scandalized until he saw that she was smiling widely at him. He harrumphed and grabbed the chair by the tub, then whispered thanks. Padmé retreated, looping the breeches over the back of the chair.

But he had to have to last word. Just before she shut the door she heard a weak voice say, "Go to bed."

*

The next morning, Obi-Wan walked into the common room to find Padmé practicing Kabon. She seemed to have improved while he was under; she looked much more stable in the pillar stance. And with her eyes closed, too; Obi-Wan was impressed.

The Jedi walked quietly to the kitchen and found that she had already heated water for tea. He finished the preparations and, leaving one cup on the counter to steep, started to take the other one back to his bedchamber when she spoke.

"Don't go," Padmé said quietly, eyes still closed.

He turned and looked at her. "I don't want to disturb you."

She breathed deeply. "Your presence is reassuring." But then Padmé's eyes opened. She frowned slightly, seeming to recall something disturbing. After a moment, Padmé composed herself and picked up her tea. The Jedi shrugged off her uncertainty and sat at the table. As she came to join him, Obi-Wan noticed that she looked much more pregnant that she had a mere ten days ago.

"You know, you don't have to give up real tea too, just because Master Olau said that I can't have it," Padmé remarked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "This stuff is better for me anyway. Caffin is a stimulant, but it's also addictive." He seemed to consider his next words carefully. "I was thinking, M'Lady, perhaps it would make the time go by easier if we could read together." Padmé smiled into her mug; he didn't seem to notice. "I'm not all that familiar with the literature of Naboo, and would like to get through some books while I'm here."

Padmé was still smiling, hiding behind her cup. He thinks it's his idea, after I've spent the last six days doing little but reading to him, she thought. When she got her grin under control, she allowed herself to look Obi-Wan again. "What a good idea," she replied. "I have a few in the parlor, although most of them aren't fiction, but I do have a favorite novel here that I haven't read in years. I think you'll enjoy it." Padmé rose and got the book from its shelf in the parlor, then sat on the sofa there. "Coming?" she called, as she propped her feet up on a nearby table.

Cup in hand, Obi-Wan sat in an armchair as Padmé began to read aloud. The sun beamed through the window, lightening her hair to gold. Her face glowed with the light reflected from the pages. He listened to her words, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. At the end of the chapter, she held the book out. Obi-Wan summoned the volume to him, then began to read to her.

He finished that chapter and closed the book. "I like it, M'Lady. Shall we continue later, or maybe tomorrow?" He stood up.

"Yes," Padmé replied. She tried to stand, but couldn't accomplish it without using both arms and both legs. Obi-Wan caught on immediately and held his hands out. Padmé took them, embarrassed, and let him lift her up. He gave her what he hoped was a sympathetic smile, and they left the parlor.

*

A high-pitched buzz sounded from Padmé's commstation. Obi-Wan got there two paces ahead of Padmé and scanned the screen: "Proximity alert. It's some kind of droid, looks like…"

"A probe droid. Imperials," she cursed from behind him. "Let's go."

They rushed to their bedchambers and pulled the sheets and covers from their beds. Within one minute, the furniture in the house was draped in what would look like dust protectors. Padmé stowed Artoo and Threepio in a closet and deactivated them with an apology. Obi-Wan gave the computer a verbal command to sound the alert again only when the droid had been gone from the area for three hours. He and Padmé could hear the droid's repulsors whine outside as they hastened to the large refresher, the only place in the house that didn't have a door or window to the outside. They stood in the darkened chamber for a moment, each trying to remember if they forgot something that might betray their presence. "Let's hope it can't sense life forms," Obi-Wan muttered.

He felt her hand over his mouth a moment later, then Padmé's hands pulled his head down. He was startled to feel her breath warm his ear. "I've theen thimilar droidth at work, demonthtrated in the Palath Complekth and on Coruthcant. Their audio thenthorth are very thenthitive," Padmé whispered. She released him. Her dress whispered across the floor, then there was silence.

All of a sudden Obi-Wan felt lightheaded. He scratched his ear where Padmé's lips had touched it. Kenobi also wondered at her lisp until he remembered that the s sound was the most easily overheard. He was pleased she would think of that, though there were other ways of communicating while avoiding detection. She is a Force-sensitive, let's try something. M'Lady, can you understand me? Nothing. Obi-Wan tried again; thought-casting could be helpful in a crisis situation. M'Lady?

When a response came, it felt as calm and natural as any from a Master. I wonder what they're looking for.

She could sense astonishment; Obi-Wan obviously hadn't expected her to be proficient at it. Padmé smiled in the dark. Anakin had taught her more than just how to love.

You have two guesses, Obi-Wan sent. He thought of his vision, the first one after Anakin's death. It still didn't make sense, despite months of deliberation, but he was aware by now that the Emperor was looking for Padmé. Or rather, her children.

Me?

The twins are among the first of a new generation. Destroying the Temple and its occupants didn't stop Force-sensitives from being born the next day.
He paused, then added, The three of you have to stay safe, and the best way to do that is to keep you hidden.

He could sense Padmé thinking for a moment, but then an emotion rose in her that he'd never sensed before. She seemed annoyed, even sullen as she commented, You mean the two of them. What will happen when they're born? Did Yoda already tell you to bring them to Coruscant as soon as the cords are cut? The Jedi's astonishment grew as he sensed dread welling in her.

He crept over and slid down the wall next to Padmé. Obi-Wan's arm wrapped around her shoulders as he radiated calm and sincerity, then he replied, No. Master Yoda only told me to report back to him when the children are born. I don't know what will happen, and none of us could have predicted the events of the last few months, anyway. I don't even know to whom I will be reporting, I have no idea if any of them are still alive.

She shifted on the tile floor, as uncomfortable mentally as she was physically. I am more than just an incubator, Obi-Wan. They are all the family I have, except for Sola and the girls; I lost my parents, then Anakin, within a few months of each other. Promise me -

Obi-Wan cut her off. I can't. Please understand, I cannot swear that they'll always be with you. The desperation in her emotions made his heart ache, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. But I do promise that I will not steal them away. And I will spend my life and my death to make sure that no one else does, either. He leaned his head to the side, his cheek touching Padmé's forehead. Obi-Wan took comfort in the touch, especially since she didn't pull away.

Padmé sighed. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, she sent dryly. Several minutes passed, motionless and silent. Then Padmé reached out and grabbed a towel from its rack. She bunched it up on Obi-Wan's leg and used it as a pillow. It was the middle of the day, Padmé's usual nap time, so she fell asleep quickly. Obi-Wan also closed his eyes.

He waddled through the corridors of the Jedi Temple. The cries of little children and babies echoed through the passages. He was looking for the source of the crying, wanting to help. He entered the nurseries, peering into crib after crib where generations of Force-strong infants and toddlers had been housed. Every bed was empty, and his arms ached to hold someone small and helpless, to take care of the children that he heard bawling. He left the nurseries, walking awkwardly to accommodate his pregnant belly, his aching feet padding along the cavernous halls.

Obi-Wan woke up. I was pregnant? he wondered.

A wave of mirth washed over him. Yes, you were. He felt Padmé's body shake with suppressed laughter for a moment, then her amusement subsided. I'm not so sure I like sharing dreams, she sent.

Obi-Wan wasn't about to disagree; shared dreams were intense. Once she laid her head back onto his lap, he put his hand on his stomach, reassuring himself that it was still flat.

*

I know, I know, super long chapter.

Elu-Leen - Officially obsessed? Wow!

My Auntie's eyes are blue-grey, usually, but they can be green, blue, even turquoise or grey. Mine are the exact same color, kind of a muddy blue, but they don't change like Auntie's do. Bummer. As for Yoda, well, he doesn't really come into this again until he affects Obi's decision-making later. Yoda finds Obi-Wan when the time is right. (Or wrong…hee hee hee…)

Princess-Kinky - Wow, what a handle! Thanks so much for the compliments. The best compliment my writing has received is when I've drawn a non-Obidala 'shipper into one of my Obi-Padmé stories. My biggest complaint with Obidalas is that most of the authors jump right into the romance without good reason or logical timing. But I do like the genre anyway, and I'm not a fan of Anakin. (I think he misinterprets his obsession for Padmé as love - he spent ten years thinking of her day and night, based on an acquaintance of perhaps a few days. I also don't like the whole whining thing.)