Author's Notes: So much for rounding it off at 50 chapters… I knew it'd boil over. / Heh. This and the next part are the last of the slush, though it's grim-slush. Again, there may be slip-ups or pieces of dodgy prose, but I am quite sick of editing these two chapters, now. I need to concentrate more on Part 53, which needs to be a good piece of writing. I want it to be good.

On a side note, I reckon we'll probably end on part 54. I seem to have got these final few chapters mapped out, and unless I see a reason to make another chapter, or to split an existing one, that's where this story shall end. We'll see. It's sad, really… I don't want it to end. :( And I forgot to say last time a big thanks to Padawanmage for helping me with the project Death Star thing. He'll know what I mean.

Padawanmage: I kinda left R2 and 3PO on Geonosis, where AotC left them, and never picked them up. I don't think I've written a single line about them, so it'd be a bit late to start now. And I really don't think I'll be writing any more about the Jedi purge - I don't have the space for it, TBH. It'd unbalance the story.

Kynstar: I'm still waiting to see RotS a third time, and there you go, on your fourth... or fifth is it? Lucky you…

Millie: Look, no offence, but you managed to insult me a little with your comments on Count Dooku. I accept that you have your opinion, but there was no need for all that. If you want to read conventional Ami/Ani stories, go elsewhere - they're not my game. This is an unconventional fanfic, so expect things to go to the extremes. I'm glad you like my writing, but I would appreciate just a little more respect. If you wanna talk to me some more, email me.

Rev042175: Again, my thanks.

Silverwolf47: If you've picked up on the hints, you'll know who Dooku's son is.

HRHpadmeamidala: Thanks again.

Cmdr. Gabe E.: I think Padmé's a little too large in the belly-section to show Dooku too much love right now. ;) Heh.

Part 51 - Serenn's Choice

It was settled, then. Obi-Wan and Count Dooku were to leave the following morning for Geonosis. But there was little chance of Serenn getting a good night's sleep beforehand… It wasn't long until he was following the trail of blood again through the darkness, with the baby girl in his arms. He knew what he would find at the end, for he took this same journey every night, and, as expected, when he reached the extremity of the trail, he found the body of the mother, laid there in a pool of blood. He then stopped and hesitated, as he always did, before he took those few, daunting steps over to her, his heart in his mouth, and crouched down by her side, then--

/Master, wake up./

The images blurred. Time itself slowed and, with that terrible lurch of mind, where the Force rushes through one's psyche at high speed and draws one's life temporarily out of one's body, the Count had to stop in his tracks, in this temporal place, and remind himself of how to breath. The images before him began to melt away, and he could feel his consciousness drawing him back to reality; Padmé's bloody body disappeared, as did the tiny baby in his arms, and he fell, faster and faster and faster, until--

/Help her./

He shot up in bed, swallowing great mouthfuls of air, and looked around the pitch-black chamber in panic; it was the dead of night, and something was out of place. He could currently hear his own breaths in his ears, could feel the violent palpitations of his heart in his chest, and could even sense the very movement of the cells in his bloodstream, all of which indicated that his senses were on high alert. Something bad was going to happen, right here and now; nothing else could possibly have awoken him from his recurring nightmare.

/Help her/

He didn't like what he sensed right now - the room was clouded with a great emptiness, seeming to have become something of a vacuum, from whence all the life, warmth and affection had been drawn…

"Serenn?"

Dooku's heart then made a terrible, cold pop as he heard Padmé's stifled gasp, and he turned, frightened of what he might behold, to look at her, lying next to him. He could see that her skin was deathly white, and that there were many globules of sweat on her forehead, each twinkling with a feigned innocence in what little light there was.

/Help her, master./

It was then, as he shifted himself a little, that the Count felt just how physically uncomfortable he was. His left hand felt oily, and the entire side of his body, laid nearest to Padmé, felt both hot and clammy. With a terrible frown, he lifted his left hand from beneath the covers and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together; they were wet, but not with water, or even sweat… it was something much thicker and darker than that.

Waving his hand at the nearest lamp, he brought light into the room, and saw that it was as he feared - his hands were covered in blood. "Force…" he hissed, before he heaved a great breath, hurled off the blankets, and saw blood everywhere. His eyes scoured the mess in utter disbelief, and he shook his head frantically. "No," he muttered over and over, his heart pounding as he found the scarlet fluid all down his side, over his hands and, more disturbingly, beneath Padmé.

/Two children… mother dead in a pool of blood/

He made to touch Padmé, but then hesitated, glancing at his hands and realising that he couldn't touch her without imprinting more bloody stains upon her body. "Padmé," he just uttered desperately at last, at a loss as to what to do.

She was looking to him with such desperation and in such distress that he could hardly bear to see it. "Help me," she pleaded, before she closed her eyes and ground her teeth together in agony.

He shook his head again. "No…" he whispered. He felt her pain and her suffering as if he shared it, almost as if he had become one with her. She had lost a lot of blood, and he knew that if he didn't so something soon, and get help, she would lose her babies, too - and yet he still didn't know where to start; he just couldn't quite believe what was happening. When she next cried out, however, his rationale kicked in and he leapt from the bed and rushed out into the corridors. "Help!" he shouted, his voice reverberating round the halls. "Somebody please help me!"

But what could be done? Bhade Tarso was about as close a medic as was available at present, but never had he dealt with childbirth and its complications before. It was therefore Edna Tarso, of all people, who actually took control of things and got her head down straight away, putting everyone else to shame with her common sense and efficiency. She came to Count Dooku's room as soon as the situation became apparent to her, and there made Padmé as comfortable as she could, changing the bed sheets and bringing plenty of towels and boiling, clean water to the scene. Serenn helped her all the time, doing whatever he could to assist, but at length he just found himself in the way, and took his housekeeper's gentle advice to leave Padmé alone for a while.

And so Dooku hovered out in the hallway and there met with the din of the rebel inner circle. He made his concerns quite clear to the party, but Bail Organa, most of all, seemed intent on framing him as a histrionic and green would-be father. Organa's composure only served to aggravate the Count and upset him further, though, and it didn't take Obi-Wan long to realise that, unless someone stepped in, things were going to blow over into an unneeded and unacceptable furore; and when he saw that Master Yoda had no intention of doing anything (in order to make him do something, Kenobi secretly conjectured) Obi-Wan simply intervened and led Serenn away.

The prudent Jedi decided that it might be a good idea to clean that unsightly blood from Dooku's body, so he located a quiet 'fresher room and sat Dooku down on a unit within whilst he ran some hot water in a nearby basin. They didn't say a word between them throughout this short venture, and continued to remain silent to such a degree that Obi began to feel uncomfortable, and found himself seeking madly for something to say. He did see before him, at least, a very different side to Serenn than what he had seen before; he saw both compassion and even a certain selflessness in his countenance, and finally found himself able to believe that Dooku had indeed trained Qui-Gon Jinn. "Master Jinn said that you got like this sometimes," he therefore elected to say, finding a washrag and soaking it in the basin. "He said that you'd withdraw into your shell like some kind of tortoise, and there remain until you found a solution to things."

Dooku now seemed to come back to himself, and he slowly turned to look at Kenobi, an expression of mild wonderment upon his visage.

Obi allowed himself a small smile as he squeezed out the washrag then pressed it against the other man's arm, listening to the water as it trickled away and pattered down against the surface of the unit, leaving morbid, red splashes in its wake. "'Proud Master Dooku'," he went on, "whose only flaw was his inability to open up, to share his troubles, and to get help when he needed it the most." Kenobi then glanced up and locked eyes with the man, and they just stared at one another for a moment; Serenn looked like he'd been thrown even further off-balance than what he had been to begin with by what Obi-Wan was saying.

"I see Qui-Gon in you sometimes," Obi went on. "He inherited your recklessness, your single-mindedness, your pride… but Master Qui-Gon wasn't afraid to be open. He didn't have secrets like you have, not really."

"He had one," Serenn now said, surprising Obi-Wan by his sudden intervention.

Obi felt his brow furrow. "'One'?" he asked. "What was that? I know he fell in love once, and I know he made many big mistakes on some of his missions - I was there for many of them. And I know, concerning Anakin, that he was…"

"Wrong about him," the Count interposed.

Kenobi glared at Dooku, but didn't voice a concurrence or a disagreement. "Maybe…" he vacillated, "but what secrets did he hold from me? We shared everything. He was my friend, my mentor… he was just like a father."

A slow, grim smile flickered for but a moment upon Dooku's visage and he took the washrag from Kenobi's hands, endeavouring to clean the rest of the mess up himself.

"What?" Obi pressed on, now curious. "What did he hide?"

Serenn got to his feet and stepped into the shower unit so that he could rinse down his chest a little more easily. "He kept one thing from you… but only because he had to."

"I don't understand."

Serenn shook his head. "No… and you don't need to. Now is not the time for it."

"Then when is?"

Dooku gave him one of his disapproving looks. "My boy, Padmé is lying up there in great pain, and you want me to take some time out to discuss an anomaly from the past…?"

Obi-Wan felt that, for some reason, Dooku's use of the word 'anomaly' was inappropriate. "You can't help her. You know that."

Serenn's eyes flared up lividly and Obi-Wan knew that he'd now not only hit a nerve, but had also torn it out and thrown it out the window. "Sorry," he sighed, though he felt that the apology should have come from the other way.

Dooku didn't acknowledge it; he just stared away, bloody water trickling down his hands and seeping into the rivets and grooves of his metal arm.

This uncomfortable pause lasted for far too long, in Obi-Wan's opinion, and he opened his mouth to break the silence, but was beaten to it by the Count, who said, with a feeble smile, "Thank you for your help, Obi-Wan. You are a compassionate soul, and I am so glad that Qui-Gon trained you so well." He then tossed the washrag back to him and grabbed a towel to quickly dry himself down.

Kenobi just watched the man, and wrapped the rag around his fingers, over and over, without thinking, whilst he mulled on his thoughts. "Was it you who preached to Master Qui-Gon that nothing ever happens by accident?" he eventually asked.

Serenn stared at the Jedi and paused for a moment before he nodded slowly. "Yes, it was me."

Obi tossed the washrag aside and gave the Count a dour look. "Then practise what you preach."

Serenn glared at him, chewing on his tongue as he studied the younger man and thought on this. "Practise it, as regards to what…?" he asked.

"Padmé," he countered, looking deep into Dooku's dark, brown eyes. "It's heartbreaking, I know but… doesn't everything happen for a reason?"

Dooku's gaze tightened on the Jedi for a moment before he then just turned and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Obi asked.

Serenn stopped just short of the exit and glanced back at Kenobi. "Where do you think?" he rejoined, before he promptly left.

The Count met with Mrs. Tarso again pretty much as soon as he stepped into the hallway that led to his chambers. She was stood waiting, outside the door to his room, and curtseyed as he approached. Serenn felt his brow furrow a little as he watched her, though, for he could discern already, both in her eyes and in her very manner, that there was something different about the way she looked at him; she still possessed that intrinsic air of deference, yet this was now tinged with an inkling of doubt, as if she finally realised that he, the 'noble and dignified' Count, had played a more significant part in recent events than what it seemed.

He didn't have time for all this, though, and got straight to the point. "How is she, Edna?" he asked.

Mrs. Tarso continued to look at him warily before she uttered, in a more subdued tone than usual, "She isn't well, sir. I admit that I have concerns for her. As you already know, she has lost a lot of blood…"

Serenn sighed and closed his eyes, trying to think of a way out of this situation, of a key to Padmé's salvation.

"I fear that she is in grave danger, sir," Edna finally said, and Dooku met her eyes once more.

"It was obvious," he muttered. "She shouldn't have bled like that… And I'm sure it's too soon for her children to be born, far too soon…" He paced a little, trying to think of what to do, until he felt Edna place her hand upon his arm, something which surprised him a little, and he turned to look at her.

"Sir…" Mrs. Tarso whispered gently. "It's not my place to enquire as to why, but… the young lady is asking for you."

The Count stared at her and again saw the queries burning in her eyes; she was curious - who wouldn't be? - by the tremendous turn of events across the past few months, and though she had been swept off her feet, keeping everyone in this rebellion fed and comfortably housed, she was still left with many unanswered questions. She had seen Dooku's metal arm, of course, but had never asked about it; she could sense the affection between Padmé and her master, yet she hadn't questioned it; and she had known that young Padmé was pregnant, yet she had made no enquires as to why she was now here, or where the father was. And now Serenn could see that she was trying to add things up, and fill in the blanks of this equation, and every time she attempted to do so, she came out with an incredulous answer, something she couldn't quite bring herself to believe…

Dooku looked down, feeling a little guilty now he thought on this. He would never be able to explain things to her, and - though he probably owed it to her - he had no intention of doing so, either. Perhaps it was better this way. "Let me see her," he finally uttered.

Edna nodded and walked back into the room, whilst the Count rubbed his beard in a nervous gesture and followed.

Padmé did indeed look ill - she was whiter than her sheets, and her skin burned with a terrible fever. Serenn shook his head, dismayed at the sight. The room itself was cluttered with pails, filled with bloody water, and soiled towels, and Dooku could now only admire Edna for her nerve and fortitude in this. He walked to the bedside and set himself upon a stool, before he reached out and took one of Padmé's hands, clasping it between his palms. He felt Edna's eyes on him, but he didn't care; he had nothing to hide.

"Padmé," he whispered, wiping her forehead with his hand and watching her tired eyes stir at his touch.

"Serenn," she said as she set her sights upon him, smiling weakly. "You came back."

He offered her a faint smile in return. "Of course I did," he said. His smile then faded away as he listened to her fitful breathing and felt her anguish like a pounding, dark presence in his mind. "Are you in much pain, Padmé? Please tell me."

Her body seemed to answer for her, and she winced at the throbbing in her groin, and gasped out, "Yes."

He looked down, feeling that terrible sensation of powerlessness overcome him again, making his limbs tremble and his mind reel. He had to do something. Now that he was here, he couldn't just sit back and wait for his dream to be realised. He could feel it in his gut - she was in more pain than any woman should be in childbirth, and if something wasn't done…

Suddenly, he felt Padmé's grip tighten on his hand and she cried out in anguish as a lengthy contraction tore through her body.

"It hurts so much…" she groaned once the pain subsided.

And Force, didn't he know it? He could feel it rattling his nerves, and it didn't take him a moment longer to resolve to take action; surely Obi-Wan was wrong? Surely he could help her?

He leant over and kissed her sweaty forehead. "I'll be back soon, Padmé," he whispered, "I promise." He then turned and marched away before his emotions got the better of him; he couldn't bear to see her in such agony and suffering. He owed it to her to help her; she needed him now more than ever.

"She needs help," Serenn thus said as he discussed the matter with Bail, Obi-Wan and Yoda, who were now holding something of a tense vigil in the sitting room. "She's very ill."

Obi looked down with a sigh but didn't say anything - he'd already made his feelings on the matter quite clear to the Count - and Yoda, consecutively, only nodded sadly, unable to offer any advice on the state of affairs for once. Hence, it was Bail, as always, who uttered the first words, proving again that he was sometimes too rational for his own good; "But where can we get help so quickly? If we call someone in, we are going to have to ensure that they are trustworthy. The slightest leak of information and this insurgency shall be doomed forever… We won't just lose her, we'll lose everyone."

Serenn glared at him; this thought hadn't really occurred to him, but he couldn't care less about anyone else right now. His dark and possessive nature had again consumed his reason, and he wouldn't hear any of it; "I told you before she was ill," he growled, "but did you believe me, Organa? No. And now that you realise I was right, you opt to deny me the help she so urgently requires…?" He barked out a terribly bitter laugh. "If she doesn't receive help soon, she will die. Do you want that on your conscience, senator? Do you?"

"No!" Bail countered, clearly torn by the delicate nature of the issue. "But we have to put things into perspective... I am a long-time friend of Padmé's and this is upsetting me just as much as you--"

"Just as much as me?" Serenn interposed.

"Yes!" Organa went on. "But if we call someone in, then we pretty much expose ourselves to the outside world, a world we are not sure we can yet trust." He sighed and looked down. "The Emperor is out to kill people like us, and we are too small a faction at present to be able to defend ourselves from his power. He'll kill us all."

Serenn wafted an angry hand at him. "There are people on this planet, there must be," he conjectured, looking to Yoda to intercede on his behalf. "How dangerous can it be, to bring a local in to help?"

"If we bring anyone in they shall recognise Padmé, and they shall certainly recognise you!" Bail countered ardently, drawing Dooku's attention back onto him. "We just cannot find someone speedily enough, not someone we know can trust, and if we go for the nearest local doctor, who may or may not be able to help her anyway, then we risk exposure, and if the slightest hint of any of this seeps out --"

"Oh, spare me!"

"Is it worth the risk, Count Dooku? Is it?"

"Of course it bloody well is!" the Count bellowed, walking away to the window and putting his hands to his hips with a sigh; he was unable to quite believe what was happening and how Organa was reacting to this. He felt the pain swell in his chest like a living presence, and could hear the whispers of the dark side in his ears, telling him to follow his passions and to do whatever he desired… How he wanted to give in to it right now, how he just wanted to surrender to it and save Padmé.

"Mmm…" Yoda sighed at length. "Painful and difficult this situation is. A hard decision you must make, old friend."

Serenn's brow cocked as Yoda's voice shattered his dark reverie, and he glanced back over his shoulder at the Jedi Master and stared at him. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"A difficult decision you must make," Yoda repeated, pointing at him.

Serenn felt a terrible feeling overcome him, as if ice-cold water, rather than blood, was now flowing round his veins. "What are you saying?" he asked thickly, his fears tightening their hold round his throat and suffocating him.

"In your house is this rebellion housed," Yoda explained. "Therefore your responsibility it is…"

"Master…"

"Decide you must, Serenn, between your heart and your head. Decide you must between the life of one or of many."

Dooku's eyes widened and he shook his head violently. "No, Master Yoda, don't do this to me, I beg you."

Yoda closed his eyes and looked downwards. "Sorry I am, Serenn. But only the truth do I tell."

The Count gave his old mentor such a glare that it was probably better the latter hadn't seen it. "Well, thank you, Master Yoda. I really appreciate your support." He then began to walk away, but Yoda thumped the floor with his cane and shouted, in a surprisingly harsh voice. "Run from me, you shall not, Serenn Dooku!"

The Count shuddered to a halt and looked darkly at the diminutive Jedi, before he took several deep breaths and dragged himself back before him.

"Better," Yoda nodded, before he angled his head up to look deep into the Count's eyes. "Difficult the situation is. Dark the times are, but a hope for the future there is, and time this needs to mature. Jeopardise this mission now, allow your heart to rule your head, then eternal darkness do I foresee." He poked the Count with his cane. "In your hands are we, Master Serenn Dooku."

And so Count Dooku walked alone through the halls of his manor, numb and forlorn. He had a choice to make, yet not the will to make it: How could he balance the life of the one he loved against so many others? Would his attachment lead the rest of the galaxy into a pit of darkness, from whence they could never return? Would his lust and greed take them there…?

But this wasn't lust and greed - this was simple love and caring. How could he let Padmé perish just to save so many insignificant others? ('Insignificant to you, perhaps,' the voice in his head thus sneered, 'But each one will mean as much to someone else out there as Padmé does to you…')

/Two children… a trail of blood… mother dead/

"I need you more than ever, old friend," he whispered to the solemn walls and suspended tapestries. "How can I make this decision?"

The air shifted and broiled with itself, spiralling around the Count as if he were the centre of gravity.

You cannot save her./

Dooku hadn't wanted to hear that and he glowered angrily at the empty space around him. "Don't you do this to me as well, Qui-Gon, please."

/Jedi or Sith? Ally or Foe? Lover or Abuser? Loyalist or Traitor? Father or Destroyer? Master or Apprentice/

Serenn could have knocked his head against a wall. "For the Force's sake, I don't need this right now! This isn't about me, it's about her."

/You are part of her./

The Count sighed and collapsed against a wall, sliding down it until he hit the floor. "What are you talking about now?" he asked, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

/You have given yourself to her. You are part of her./

"Then why can't I be sacrificed? Why must she die?"

/We all die eventually. I am sure you once said so./

"But why have I been given so many years, and she so few? Tell me that!"

/It was her choice./

"To what, perish? The children are Anakin's fault!"

/The fault equally lies with you./

Serenn ran his hand back over his head and stared at the floor, feeling the tears roll down his face. "I know… but sometimes one forces things on another that they shouldn't. Sometimes one makes mistakes, and believes that they have a right to possess something that is never theirs to take. Sometimes --"

/You have learnt much in these recent times./

Dooku nodded stiffly. "Yes, but it has been costly knowledge."

/You cannot save her/

"So you keep saying…"

/But you can be with her./

He looked up again, almost as if he expected his former Padawan to materialise before his eyes, but he saw nought but darkness. "That's not enough, though… She wants to be a mother to these children, to watch them grow and to raise them, and yet I've known for a long time that she can never have that…" He sighed again. "And even I won't be there for them."

/They shall be well cared for./

Serenn didn't seem as enthused as his dead protégé. "If you say so, old friend…" he muttered. He then sat there in silence for some time before it occurred to him that precious moments were currently trickling away like grains of sand through his fingers, and he shot back to his feet once more. "I need to be with her now," he resolved.

/Yes. She wants you to be there./

He shook his head and began to walk away. "What have I done to deserve her love?" he asked. "It's simply implausible."

/You have become the Jedi she misses, the ally she needs, the lover she craves, the loyalist she aspires to, and the father for her children that she desires./

Dooku's steps died away as he drew to a slow halt, and he stared, with a creased brow, into the distant gloom of the corridor. "You think so?"

/I know so./

"If only time were not against me…" he mused, before he exhaled slowly, then picked up his feet again and ran.

And so Serenn returned to Padmé's side, took her hand back in his, and prepared himself to be there with her every step of the way. "Don't leave me," she said breathily, as soon as she knew he was there again, and he said in return, utterly without question, "I won't."

The hours of darkness gave way to dawn, then to morning, and Padmé's agony only continued. Mrs. Tarso was there all the time, doing her best to soothe the pained young lady and assist her in her labour, whilst Serenn sat there, offering his support, but powerless to do anything other. Padmé lost more blood and her strength ebbed with every moment that past, but she endured and fought on. A fervent fever raged through her body, and her skin burned unlike anything the Count had ever felt before, and yet still she hung in there, striving to bring her children into the world.

Midday came, and went, then the afternoon came, then went, and the evening thus set in.

With every hour that past, Serenn strove to etch Padmé's memory into his mind, to savour her every breath and movement as he felt her struggle within become too great a thing for her to bear. He held her hand and spoke to her and tried to give her the comfort she desired and, though it heartened her a little, he knew that he just couldn't save her…

It was drawing toward midnight once more when, tired and weary, Padmé's face again contracted into an agonised expression, and she screamed out in pain as a severe contraction tore through her body. Edna tried to soothe her, to keep her calm, but it was of no use - nothing could ease her affliction. Tears were streaming down her face as she now pushed with as much strength as she could muster, and then, after these many hours, the air was finally broken by a child's cry.

Padmé allowed herself a moment to breathe as she listened to that wonderful sound, whilst Serenn swallowed and eventually forced himself to turn his eyes upon the ominous child.

In her arms, Edna now cradled a small, bloody baby, which she wrapped tightly in a blanket and rocked him in an effort to appease his already incessant bawling. "A boy," she said, stroking the child's face and bringing him to the Count, who took the shrieking son of Darth Vader reluctantly into his arms. As soon as he touched the child, he felt a terrible chill run right through his system, and he swallowed, staring at the boy warily; he then cast aside his aversion to the baby, and propped him up in the crook of his arm, angling him toward his mother so that she could see him; "There, Padmé," he whispered, "Here's your son."

Padmé managed a weak smile as she looked upon the child, and she unsteadily reached out toward him. Serenn saw that she was struggling to do even this, though, so he took her hand in his and guided it to the child, whereupon she stroked his little face and body; "Hello, Luke," she whispered with an enervated smile.

Serenn was heartened by this little scene, where Padmé's happiness outshone her anguish for but a moment, and it sent a small thrill through him; but soon Padmé had to turn away and cry again as more painful contractions charged through her body, threatening to draw her brittle life away. Serenn gave her his hand again and tried to simultaneously hold the squealing baby boy with the other as Padmé put in this last bout of effort to bring her second child into the world.

It was an agonising few minutes, as Padmé screamed and cried, tears rolling down her pale cheeks, until her body unclenched and Edna took up the second baby. But there was then only silence…

Padmé lay back, panting fearfully when the second child did not speak. "What's wrong?" she whispered, her face sweaty and pallid as she turned her eyes on Serenn, knowing this quiet lull was not a good sign.

The Count looked equally troubled and made eye contact with Mrs. Tarso, who gave him an apprehensive glance in return. He swallowed and got to his feet; "Bring her here," he said; he knew already that the child was a girl. He had known for a long time.

His housekeeper walked over and handed the small, second baby to him, whilst she took the firstborn from Dooku in turn, and then stood nearby, watching anxiously.

Serenn held the girl with the utmost of care and looked down into her little face; it was indeed the same girl he had seen in his dreams, albeit much more still and quiet; she looked as weak as her poor mother, and that made his heart pelt with fear. He exhaled shakily and could feel Padmé's fatigued eyes on him as he then rose his hand over the baby's little body and placed two fingers hesitantly over her tiny brow. He then closed his eyes and reached out to her…

Both Padmé and Mrs. Tarso watched Serenn with baited breath. Even the little boy, already christened Luke, was quiet as he waited for his sister to rouse.

The girl was such a small baby that Serenn could quite easily have balanced her in his palm, but he held her quite securely in his arms as he searched for her signature through the Force. When he finally found it, it was a terribly weak one, but the baby did at least respond to him, and he encouraged her to come back into the light, to open her eyes and to greet her weary mother.

And consequently, after several unbearable minutes, the girl finally opened her mouth and cried with wild abandon!

Serenn opened his eyes, looking down into the small, pink face of the child with relief, and smiled widely, whilst Edna put a hand to her face in astonishment and laughed whilst she rocked the little boy.

The Count promptly turned back to Padmé and sat down again by her side, kissing her forehead and showing her the baby girl. "You have a daughter as well, Padmé," he said. "A beautiful daughter."

Padmé, though by now completely exhausted, still managed to show her own sense of relief as she realised her second child was all right, and she smiled again as she gazed upon her little girl. "She's beautiful," she whispered, reaching out to hold this one now that her labour was almost over. "They both are."

The Count handed the girl over and Padmé took her tenderly against her chest, staring dotingly upon the child as she held her there.

Serenn sat back and admired them both now, and he couldn't help but feel an odd sensation of pride flush through him; they looked so perfect. He then drew himself onto the bed by Padmé's side and put his arm round Padmé's shoulders, kissing her on top of the head as he stared down at the baby from there. "She's just like you," he murmured.

"Don't get sentimental on me," she replied with such a hint of her old gusto that it heartened him.

"Oh, we all get sentimental when a new child is born," Edna piped in, coming toward the new mother holding Luke. "Well done, miss," she said. "You have two beautiful children."

Padmé smiled her thanks to the caring old woman and asked for Serenn to take away the girl whilst she took hold of her son, now, for a moment.

Mrs. Tarso leant down and beamed as she handed over the boy and watched the mother cradle him.

Dooku clutched the girl tightly as he also monitored Padmé holding her son; he didn't like the child - he even felt a strong inclination to dislike him, though there was absolutely no reason for it. "He's his father's son," he muttered as he and young Luke seemed to, momentarily, lock eyes.

The boy was more robust than his sister, and quite lively, moving his little limbs about with much zest, in a manner that only made Padmé laugh. "Little Luke," she whispered, besotted by the child and kissing him upon the head.

Serenn looked away at the baby girl again and stroked her tiny face. "And what of the girl?" he asked. "What shall you name her?"

Padmé sighed and paused for a moment as the pain within her grew for a second. "We never thought of a girl's name," she said. "We thought we were only having a boy."

Dooku felt his sense of happiness darken; 'we'… That meant that Anakin had helped to choose the boy's name, and Serenn knew immediately that naming the firstborn 'Luke' was wrong; it would be a fine giveaway as soon as the father ever came across the child. And yet, despite his better judgement, he couldn't say no to Padmé; it was her wish, and he had to respect that.

"So what would you like to call your daughter?" he softly enquired again, giving Padmé's shoulder a rub. "She needs a name, too."

Padmé leaned back and angled her head about slowly so that she could set her sights upon her daughter once more. She looked between the dark-eyed girl and the dark-eyed Count several times before she seemed to ponder on things for a moment.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted, though, when another wave of pain broke forth within her, and she cringed, taking in a sharp breath as the throbbing got worse.

Serenn's hand gripped her shoulder more tightly. "Are you all right?"

She allowed herself a moment to recover before she said, not meeting his eyes. "Serenn, I want you to name her."

The Count looked absolutely astounded. "No, Padmé, I can't…" he said. "It's not my place to, it's--"

Padmé screamed harshly now and Serenn could see all was far from well. "Edna!" he called, and the housekeeper rushed to Padmé's side to help. Both the children began crying at once as Serenn took Padmé's hand and Edna rushed to take Luke from his mother's arms.

"Serenn," Padmé gasped in a faint, weakened voice, looking between her daughter in his arms and his face again. "Take care of my children."

The Count felt his throat burn - he could feel that sensation again, swilling about in his stomach, that cold and knowing fear that he was going to lose her. "Padmé, you'll get well again…" he insisted. "Please just hold on."

"You can't save me, Serenn," she said.

He inhaled ruggedly and allowed a tear to roll down his face; she had said that to him before, some time ago, and she had been right then… How many people had to tell him that before he truly believed it? He bowed his head and tried to control his emotions, to subdue his fear and anxiety…

"Promise me…" she implored, "Just promise you'll take care of my children."

"I'm not going to be here forever, Padmé," he murmured sadly. He then looked at her for a long time and knew that he had to do something, that he had to do all in his power to help her and her progeny. "But I'll do what I can," he resolved at last.

She gave him a small, gratified smile. "Thank you, Serenn," she whispered.

And then, with a final breath, she was gone…

TBC…