*
Chapter Fifteen - Enter Leia and Luke
The contractions had gotten stronger as they walked around the clearing and through the garden. This was as clear a sign as Padmé could recall that she was in labor. That, and her guardian's anxiety – Obi-Wan was practically hopping around her, his arm around her waist one moment, her hand clamped in between his sweaty palms the next. Every utterance grated on Padmé's nerves until she could no longer stand it. She hastened as well as she could back to the house after the Jedi's seventh inquiry about whether or not she was all right.
Once she reached her bedchamber door, Padmé said, "I think today's the day. Now, I need to keep track of time. May I have the chronometer from the parlor and your poetry book, please?" She used the refresher while Obi-Wan retrieved the requested items. When she emerged, he pulled a chair next to Padmé's bed and sat after she settled herself against the pillows. "Just read. I'm dealing with this as best I can. Thank you for your concern, but if you ask me one more time if I'm all right, you're out of here."
Obi-Wan read her favorite poems to her as they measured the duration of and amount of time in between her next three contractions. Padmé had Threepio contact Master Alanna with that information. The droid returned, saying that the healers would be on their way quickly.
Two hours later, the healers had not yet arrived. Obi-Wan sensed something from Padmé that he'd never experienced before; not like this, anyway. "I'm scared," she whispered.
"Isn't the meaning of courage to be terrified and still going on anyway?" He moved out of the chair and onto her bed again, facing her.
Padmé chuckled a little. "Like I have a choice," she muttered. A more intense contraction began and took hold of her features. Obi-Wan reached for her and held her slender shoulders as her fingernails dig into his tunic. Every muscle under his hands was hard as rock, and he tried to massage some relaxation into her body. Padmé inhaled audibly, then groaned.
But it wasn't from pain that Padmé was groaning.
She tapped his shoulder and retreated out of his arms. Obi-Wan let go and looked over his shoulder, face and eyes blanching.
*
Threepio had let Alanna Olau and Moanilula Yung into the house. One of Master Alanna's copper eyebrows raised at the sight of Obi-Wan sitting with Padmé on her bed. "Master Kenobi, may we have some tea, please?" Alanna asked, disapproval etched into her features.
Obi-Wan obediently crept out of the chamber. Padmé's voice chased after him in a surprised exclamation, and he turned around. But Padawan Yung stood between the Knight and the bedchamber. "It's all right, Master Kenobi. Her water just broke." The apprentice healer shut the chamber door, leaving a very nervous Obi-Wan standing alone in the common room.
Once she had checked Padmé's progress, Master Alanna joined Obi-Wan in the kitchen. He was removing the tea strainer from her cup.
"That was romantic," Alanna remarked as she sipped her tea. Then the tone of her voice hardened. "Remember the Code, Master Obi-Wan. An honorable Jedi chooses, and if you need to be reminded about the results from the last time someone tried to have both, go look in the Senator's bedchamber. This isn't going to be easy for her." She looked into Obi-Wan's turquoise eyes.
His teacup clattered onto the counter. "Just as you and Master Qui-Gon chose? You loved each other, Master, and don't you dare say differently. There was little in his heart that I didn't know about." Obi-Wan saw a flash of grief in the older Master's face. He breathed deeply, envisioning his anger exiting his body, carried by his breath. "That was wrong of me, I'm sorry. Pa...uhm, the Senator isn't in danger, is she?"
"I don't think so, though she is still frail from her illness." The purple eyes blazed again, placing the blame for that squarely on his shoulders. "It is my fate that I wish to prevent you from pursuing. Qui-Gon and I shouldn't have loved each other, but we did, Obi-Wan. I've paid for that for the last thirteen years. Do you think I've forgotten a day of it?"
"I haven't forgotten it, either, Alanna. But Master Yoda knew what he was doing when he sent me here." The Knight breathed again, controlling his irritation. "If you will excuse me, I will meditate." Obi-Wan stalked into his chamber and shut the door.
Master Alanna smirked at the door. "Good luck with that," she said quietly.
*
Each time he tried to calm himself through meditation, Obi-Wan felt Padmé's hurt grinding through him. This is what women have to go through?! he thought, doubled over, the carpet rasping against his forehead.
In their pain, the Jedi finally admitted to himself how important Padmé was to him. And not just for Anakin's sake, or because Master Yoda had told him that he was responsible. She was important.
No, that wasn't the right word.
Padmé was dear to him.
Obi-Wan got to his feet and walked back and forth in his bedchamber, worrying over how small she was and how fragile she had become since her illness. Obi-Wan groaned, both from the ache in his body and the apprehension in his mind. Less than fifty minutes after his conversation with Master Alanna, he stumbled from the house, determined to distract himself somehow. Pacing wasn't doing any good.
It didn't work. Obi-Wan's anxiety also superseded martial arts and lightsaber katas. He gave up when he found himself sprawled out in the dirt after tripping over his own feet. Returning to the house a quarter of am hour later, Kenobi stepped into the refresher and bathed.
Once dressed, Obi-Wan found himself pacing the parlor floor. He didn't want to go out again, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on reading, music would be absurd at a time like this. And Master Alanna surely wouldn't let him near that chamber, not after the verbal lashing he'd doled out that morning. Obi-Wan regretted his hasty words, even though he had spoken the truth. No good ever came from anger. Kenobi alternated chewing on his fingernails and the inside of his cheek as he wore an elliptical path in the rug.
Yung emerged from Padmé's chamber. "I'm surprised you didn't know. The Senator is asking for you."
It was as though his heart was beating again. Obi-Wan stared at the Padawan. "I asked her once, she never said that she wanted me with her. What about Master Alanna?"
"It's what Padmé wants that matters, in this situation," said Yung with a smile. She's actually enjoying her Master's annoyance with me, Obi-Wan realized. He thanked her and made his way to Padmé's chamber. Deep breath. Obi-Wan opened the door hesitantly.
"M'Lady?" His voice trailed off as he saw her sweat-soaked face and gritted teeth. Padmé was lying on her side under a sheet, an arm curled around her large belly. Her eyes were shadowed and closed as she rested in between contractions. Obi-Wan gulped, thinking, What am I doing here? What possible help can I be? He stepped inside far enough to close the door behind him, but then he just stood there. His worried grey gaze was riveted on Padmé.
She opened her eyes and scowled. "Where have you been?" Through the Force and the tone of her voice, Obi-Wan perceived her exasperation and anxiety, and a plea for him to stay.
She wants me here.
Force help me, I am in love.
The knowledge was as tangible as an electric shock, and it animated Obi-Wan. The Jedi walked into the adjoining refresher and washed his hands. He found a face cloth, wet it, and wrung the excess water out. Returning to the bedchamber, Obi-Wan wiped the perspiration from Padmé's pretty features, then folded the towel in quarters and placed it above her dark brows.
He ignored the stares of the two other Jedi in the chamber, not caring that his affectionate feelings were quite apparent. The Knight summoned a chair to him and brushed a sweat-soaked curl off of Padmé's cheek. Then Obi-Wan sat and reached for her hand.
*
This was horrible, watching Padmé hurt, but not being able to do anything about it. Obi-Wan was amazed by the transformation that had taken place today. The poised, deliberate, polite former Queen of Naboo was now red-faced, groaning, and snarly. There were times when she sobbed silently, and Obi-Wan knew that Padmé was thinking of Anakin, if for no other reason than to have someone to yell at. Obi-Wan had even encouraged her to take it out on him, if it would make her feel better. She had simply bellowed at him to get out, if he was going to say such ridiculous rubbish. The Jedi apologized and kept to cheerleading after that, though he laughed silently.
Master Alanna sensed how much Padmé had relaxed as soon as Obi-Wan arrived. The damage that she'd tried to prevent was done, so she relented and even encouraged the Knight to stay with their charge.
Obi-Wan sat next to the bed as Padmé endured another contraction. Padmé's hand was like a vise. I've been stabbed by a lightsaber more than once, I took a blaster bolt to the shoulder when I was seventeen, how in Chaos can this hurt so much? He shook his hand out of her line of vision once the contraction ended, trying to get the blood to flow back into his aching digits.
*
The sun was low in the west, flooding Padmé's bedchamber with amber light, when Padawan Yung stepped out to make tea. Master Alanna was exhausted after working a night shift in the Palace Complex, then getting called to the house by Threepio. She was sleeping in Obi-Wan's chamber.
After twelve hours of labor, all formality had been abandoned. Padmé was still enduring contractions, but she wasn't ready to push yet. She was reclining against his abdomen, her arms draped over his knees. As intimate as this was, Obi-Wan found it much more comfortable...well, less uncomfortable...than holding her hand.
Padmé was drained. "Oh, Force, I just want this to be over," she moaned.
Obi-Wan rubbed her shoulders. "It's going to be all right. Think about what it's for, that there are two children who are just hours, maybe minutes away from becoming part of your family. You'll do this, Padmé, I know you can."
"I already knew that," she grumbled. Then she twisted her back, trying to work out the kinks. "He did this to me and he isn't even here...I'd neuter Ani with my bare hands if he was here right now."
Obi-Wan winced in response; he couldn't help it. But it was funny, too, though he dared not laugh. His sense of self-preservation had to put in its two centicreds, and he murmured, "In that case, please remember that it was him that...er, did this to you."
Padmé snorted, then groaned.
Obi-Wan re-focused on his charge, leaning her forward a little to create some space between their bodies. He rubbed her lower back for a few minutes, then settled her against him again. The Jedi wiped the sweat from her features for the hundredth time as she settled against his chest. "Did Anakin ever tell you how he rescued me from a nest of gundarks?" he asked quietly.
"No, and I'm not too interested in hearing about it right now, if you don't mind," Padmé snapped.
"Sorry." Padmé's protector watched her face as she tried to get comfortable. She looked lovely and dreadful, frightened and fierce to him. Obi-Wan massaged her stomach, feeling the tension of skin and muscles under her thin sleepgown. "You're so strong, Padmé, I'm in awe."
Padmé shifted a little to the left so that she could look up at him. "Say that again." Her voice was quiet, almost childlike.
Obi-Wan brushed her hair away from her face as he spoke. "You're marvelous, Padmé, everything's going to be all right, your son and daughter are almost here. You can do this." His eyes bore into hers, reinforcing his belief in what he said. Obi-Wan kissed his beloved's forehead, like she had kissed him on Verlane. The tickling of his beard made Padmé smile a little, but her eyes held a different light.
Obi-Wan obeyed and gently pressed his lips to hers. He hesitated, pulling away, but returned to where he belonged a moment later. Obi-Wan's fingers brushed the edge of her jaw. Padmé's mouth opened under his, but this certainly was not the time for passion. Rather, Obi-Wan poured his respect, his assurance of support and comfort, into the kiss.
The Jedi slammed his mental shields up as more intense feelings threatened to leak out of control, to the point that she might sense them: You and these children will be as much of a family as I'll ever have. You are my home, Padmé. This contact was the only way he would let himself tell Padmé what he'd learned this morning. I love you.
Whatever her feelings were, she found solace in the kiss and only released him when the pain began to swell again. The tempo of her breath increased, but Padmé was ready. This felt different than the other contractions.
Padmé was potent. Her roar brought both of the healers scurrying into the chamber seconds later.
*
Another exhausting hour and a half later, Obi-Wan Kenobi held a baby for the first time that he could remember. He cradled Padmé in one arm and her firstborn, the girl, in his other. Padmé held her son. Deep blue eyes met brown, both pairs overflowing with joy and relief. The healers allowed them a few minutes' peace while they looked after Padmé. The new mother and her guardian sat on her bed, entwined around each other, too weak to move, too moved to speak.
But the calm did not last for long. Obi-Wan was assigned to follow Yung's lead in tending the twins after they were born, while Master Alanna finished patching Padmé up. He'd muddled his way through everything, but had managed well enough, thanks to the Padawan's guidance.
Now he was alone with the twins in the nursery. The Jedi held the girl and smiled. The boy was lying in his crib. Padmé had spent the twins' first hour of life bonding with them. Now she was sleeping in her chamber. Obi-Wan shifted the infant more securely in one arm, then reached out a finger for the boy to grasp. I guess bundling babies well takes practice, he thought – the boy's wiggles had easily loosened the tiny coverlet. Feelings surfaced that he recognized: fatherhood, protectiveness. Love? Yes, love. Master Kenobi had often felt like a father when Anakin was his Padawan, and he knew that Qui-Gon had felt the same about him.
Obi-Wan stood in the nursery, content and smiling, but then all of the doubts he thought he'd put to rest washed over him in a wave. Look what happened to Anakin. I didn't teach him well enough. I couldn't save him. He pulled his finger from the boy's grip and gently placed the girl in her bassinet.
The Jedi Knight staggered to the far side of the nursery and thumped to the floor, his guilt spinning around his mind like a cloud of gnats.
*
Padmé walked slowly out of her bedchamber the next morning, following the delicious-smelling breakfast fragrances to their point of origin. Obi-Wan's voice drifted out of the kitchen before she'd even entered the common room. "Padmé, you're supposed to stay in bed as much as possible, it's been less than half a day," he called. He regretted his grouchy tone of voice, but the babies had staggered their late night crying with seamless precision.
"For goodness' sake, Obi-Wan, you're my guardian, not my servant. I can do some things for myself," Padmé retorted. "I also don't feel like waiting for another hour for my breakfast." She sat down at the common room table.
An ungentle-like snort reached her ears, and Padmé smiled. Her Jedi protector appeared, a tray bearing her breakfast in his hands. "Well, since you're out here already…" he grumbled. Obi-Wan put the tray in front of Padmé. She grabbed a utensil and tucked in.
Obi-Wan went back into the kitchen. "So, now that they're here and all three of you are well and safe, what are you going to name them?"
Padmé swallowed. "Names like mine are a decicred a dozen. Padmé, Yané, Eritaé, Sabé. I want my daughter to have something that is easy to spell and remember, and be as beautiful as she is.
"My favorite flower is the leia. That will be her name."
Padmé could hear the smile in her protector's voice, even though she couldn't see him. "Leia Skywalker. Padmé, that's perfect. Just like her."
"Except for her waking us up every other hour last night," the new mother grumbled.
Obi-Wan laughed. "And he woke us up every other other hour. What about him?"
Padmé bit her lip. "Obi-Wan?"
"Yes?"
She knew he'd misunderstood. "No, I was answering. May I name him for you?"
In the kitchen, Obi-Wan froze. Emotions, thoughts crowded his mind until he was overflowing. His tired eyes prickled again. After everything I've done...
He heard Padmé's voice again, this time right behind him. "For Force's sake, say something," she murmured.
"I'm overwhelmed," Obi-Wan choked out. He turned and hugged her, stroking the long, tangled hair. "I am honored, Padmé, truly I am."
Padmé heard the But in his voice, and she retreated out of Obi-Wan's arms. "Think about him, though. Whatever rock this Darth Vader crawled out from under, he has almost certainly heard of me and Anakin. And we know that Palpatine is familiar with both of us, not to mention you. A child bearing both our names would attract attention, even without the astronomical midi-chlorian count I'm sure your son possesses."
Obi-Wan took her hand, pressing it firmly between both of his. "He is your son, Padmé. I am honored that you want to name him for me, and I have no right to forbid you to do so. But I cannot advise it."
"This planet is littered with Qui-Gons, Jinns, Obi-Wans, Kenobis, Anakins, and Skywalkers," Padmé grumbled rebelliously. Her eyes were bright.
"And every last one has a Nubian family name," the Jedi countered quietly.
"Very well." She left the kitchen. Obi-Wan winced when Padmé's bedchamber door shut with a quiet, forlorn click.
*
Obi-Wan sat with a novel in one hand and the as-yet-unnamed baby against his shoulder. He read aloud as Padmé reclined on the parlor sofa, holding Leia. The hero's earnest, compassionate husband was the central character of the scene, and Padmé interrupted the Jedi's reading with a murmur: "Luke."
It was the character's name, but Obi-Wan was confused. Padmé was looking at him; no, actually, she was looking at her son. "Luke," she repeated.
The Jedi got it. He smiled.
*
Obi-Wan didn't have much time in the next few tendays for his worries to resurface. He was too busy tending the babies and helping Padmé. The healers stayed on for three additional days to teach the new mother what she still needed to know about their care.
On the day that the healers left for the Palace, Obi-Wan emerged from the shower, dried off, and pulled on his breeches. Moanilula was taking Leia from the nursery to her mother to be fed when Master Alanna called her outside. Without any warning other than "Let her know you're coming," Obi-Wan found his arms full of baby. He stood stiff with surprise for a few seconds, then maneuvered the tiny girl up against his shoulder.
Obi-Wan just stayed there, marveling at the softness of the infant's skin against his chest. The Jedi ran his fingers over Leia's wild thatch of dark, downy hair, enchanted. It was only when he heard Padmé calling for Lula that he remembered what the Padawan had been doing. He took the infant to her mother's chamber.
He knocked on the door and cast a thought: It's me. He knew that Luke was already in there with her. Obi-Wan waited for five seconds, then opened the door. Though I can't do anything about my own state of undress now, he thought, his ears flaming as he opened the door.
Padmé hadn't bothered with modesty. Obi-Wan scanned the room for a coverlet, but they were all well out of her reach. There was no point, once he thought about it. I watched her give birth, after all, he reasoned.
Then Obi-Wan realized what he saw in that first glance; there was a point. Obi-Wan's face and chest joined his ears in blazing bright red. He almost backed out of the room, he was so mortified, but Leia was starting to fuss. The Jedi composed himself enough to find a coverlet, and handed it to Padmé, eyes averted.
"Don't say it," Padmé growled, red-faced. "Master Alanna said my milk would come in a few days after they were born, but I had no idea..." She pulled the cover over herself and her son. "Okay." The Jedi turned back around and came closer.
Padmé appeared amused as she took in the sight of his wet hair and lack of tunic. "What happened to you?" the new mother asked quietly. Her blush was fading.
Now that Padmé's upper body was covered, Obi-Wan relaxed, too. He shrugged. The first words that came to mind were "Surprise attack."
Padmé snorted and braced her son on her shoulder, burping him. That finished, she put him on the bed and requested, Trade. Obi-Wan complied, settling Leia in her mother's embrace. He found a cloth to put over his shoulder, then picked up the boy. Holding Luke securely, he Force-summoned a chair to the side of the bed. The Jedi sat and looked down.
The baby with Anakin's bright blue eyes gazed at him with rapt and intelligent attention. He sensed what I just did. Less than a tenday old, and he knows, Obi-Wan realized. He put his finger in the boy's palm, and Luke clutched it at once.
An audible intake of breath made the new mother look at Obi-Wan and her son. She saw a new, happy light in the Jedi's eyes. That dazzling, goofy grin crossed his face. Padmé nursed her daughter and watched as Obi-Wan and Luke silently bonded, each one captivated by the other.
*
The Jedi's encounter with Luke triggered a euphoria that lasted for hours. Obi-Wan floated through the afternoon, disgustedly cheerful through the twins' crying and numerous diaper changes, not to mention their mother's exhausted, weeping breakdown just after dinner. Obi-Wan finally calmed down by settling into his evening meditation. Clearing his mind and accessing the Force, the Jedi looked to it as he always did for guidance and insight.
A girl, barely in her teens, stepped up to a space ship with odd markings. She turned and waved to a crowd of cheering people, many of whom were the same age as she. Obi-Wan did not know who she was until he recognized the stubborn chin and the mature grit in her soft brown eyes. Bail Organa emerged from the ship, kissed Padmé's daughter on the forehead, then hugged her fiercely. With one last wave to the crowd, Leia stepped into the ship and the hatch closed behind her.
The scene changed. A sandy-haired man stood at a viewport, looking out into space. The tension he felt was announced by the way his back was turned firmly on his adversary. Obi-Wan watched, but could not hear, a man taunt the boy from the shadows of a thronelike chair, while a third person stood by silently. The Dark Side was present in all three of them, but the youth was fighting its pull.
Don't give in, Obi-Wan begged. The young man did not hear him, but he turned a moment later and called a lightsaber to him. It ignited green, and he swung it at the man in the chair, but a red-bladed saber stopped its fatal descent a half-meter away from the laughing yellow eyes. For the first time, Obi-Wan could see the young man's face.
Anakin's eyes!
Obi-Wan came out of the trance with Luke's name on his lips. It was the most literal vision he'd ever seen. A moment later, he realized that he knew the man in the chair, too. Obi-Wan would recognize that profile anywhere.
The Knight smiled. This was confirmation of what he'd suspected since Master Yoda assigned him to return to Naboo. The twins, especially Luke, were a danger to Emperor Palpatine.
The Jedi were all but extinct, the Republic was a ruined memory, but hope blossomed in Obi-Wan's heart. A revived determination coursed through his veins; he had to keep the children and their mother safe. Obi-Wan's heart sank when he remembered the two probe droids that had come calling in the last six months. That would not be so easy any more.
Obi-Wan crept into the nursery and gently picked up the sleeping boy. He couldn't not hold this baby now, not after what he'd just seen. Luke squirmed a little, tiny eyes scrunching, then dropped back into a deeper sleep.
It would be the children of the Jedi that could right the wrongs of Obi-Wan's generation and the ones that had come before him. That thought illuminated and purified the shadows that had resided in Kenobi's heart since Anakin had died. He sat in a chair and rocked back and forth, praying to the Force for Luke and Leia, and for the new hope that he had just discovered.
*
Author's Notes: As always, thanks so much for reading! And much gratitude to those who review!
Elu-Leen: (Chapter 13): The thing about the Jedi poetry…I am a lousy poet, I couldn't write a poem that would be believable in a book of Jedi poetry. That cheesy song he sang just before he kissed her is my creation, as is another poem later. Well, at least I know it.
Adelaide: Hey there! Much, much gratitude for the compliments on realism here. As I've said before, that's what I worry about.
Elu-Leen: (Chapter 14): Well, I've updated, though I can't really call this "soon." (Sorry.) I had heard some stories about the birth, some with an un-turned Anakin, an Obi-Wan as a friend, or Obi-Wan as a lover. (Even one where Obi-Wan is the father!) Hope this was okay.
Confused11: Hooray, a new reader! Welcome, and thanks!
Princess -Kinky: Thanks for taking back everything you've ever said about Obidalas, just based on this, that's a very cool (and funny) compliment. As for the Leia-before-Luke thingy, too late. This story is posted on another website (this chapter about three weeks ago, if I remember correctly), and I copy that version as my final version and change typos only before bringing it here. Oh, well.
