Thank you very much for the kind reviews! I'm really glad you liked the start of the story.
Happy birthday (belated) to mrs. skywalker! And phoenix212: I'm everywhere! lol
HERE WITH ME -- Chapter 1: Obi-Wan
I sat at the table, waiting for the tea to cool off a bit, staring at the curtain that obstructed the view to Padmé's bed. Technically, the house offered only one single room for both of us to live and sleep in, along with a basement where I kept all kinds of supplies, and a tiny room for the sanitation purposes. To grant her and myself a little more privacy, however, I'd fixed the largest blanket I could find to the ceiling in the middle of the main room, creating a provisional separation of sleeping area and living area.
The first two days had been almost disturbingly quiet in our quarters. I never heard a sound from her half of the room. No crying, no sighing, no rustling of the bed sheets. Nothing. We hadn't talked much since she had woken up. After she'd asked me where we were, she had been too exhausted to wait for any explanation. She had fallen into a deep sleep while I was still wondering how to answer, never letting go of her hand. She slept almost till noon the next day, and when she woke up she was silent for a long time. When she finally addressed me, she had only one single question.
"You killed him, didn't you?" Padmé had asked, her voice barely more than a trembling breath.
"He won't come back," I had answered quietly and evasively. She hadn't asked further. She hadn't even looked at me. That was the last time we'd spoken to one another. The next thing I did was put up the curtain. It was more than obvious that she didn't want my company, so I left her to herself.
Being ignored like that didn't feel very good, but she had understandable reasons. If retreating into her shell made things easier to cope with the pain, I would be the last one to question her. After all, I wasn't exactly someone who liked to openly display feelings and take comfort in others, either. But though I could relate to her behaviour and accept it, it didn't keep me from being very concerned about her. I grew more and more worried, because Padmé refused everything. Not only did she refuse to talk or to leave the bed, she also refused the food I wordlessly put down on the small bedside table for her every morning, along with a pot of hot tea and a jug of fresh water. I tried again and again, hoping that eventually her appetite would overpower her grief-stricken apathy, but nothing changed. Everytime I went to pick up the dish in the evening, she hadn't touched any bit of it. A little of the water was gone though, which eased my mind because it was the only indication that she was still clinging to life somehow.
Those short minutes when I brought the food to her were the only times I saw her at all. Apparently, she was avoiding me with great care. She never turned to look at me when I crossed the curtain and stepped to the bed, and she got up to use the sanitary facilities only when I was outdoors, busying myself with my lightsaber for several hours so I wouldn't loose my skills. But I never confronted her about it. She had gone through so much pain and had to overcome true tragedy. I didn't want to put any more pressure on her than necessary. I figured that she knew how much time she needed. Eventually she would pick up courage and approach me. Or so I hoped.
But I hoped wrong.
One day, our dull routine was no more because I decided to not wait any longer and take some action...
I was trying to meditate when I suddenly heard faint noises from the other side of the curtain. For a few seconds I considered leaving her alone; I didn't want to intrude her privacy, barging in when she was in mourning. But the weak snivelling noises stirred up the protective instincts I couldn't ignore any longer. So I went to the bed to check on her.
As expected, she lay there facing the rough wall. I couldn't see her face, but the occasional tremble of her slender shoulders gave her away. Even though she had fallen completely silent the moment I had invaded her part of our room, she kept crying. I stepped closer and squatted down right next to the bed.
"Padmé?" I asked softly, my hand hovering over her arm indecisively. I wanted to soothe her, or at least try to do so, but I wasn't sure if she wanted that. She probably hated me for not taking better care of Anakin, and I couldn't even blame her.
"Are you awake?" I tried again. I knew she was, but I asked anyway. I just had to say something. Anything. Anything that would get through to her, but she didn't react at all.
I took a deep breath. "I want to help you, but I do not know how", I said, my voice pleading with her to escape her self-imposed isolation. "Padmé, please... I'm so sorry..." I lowered my hand on her thin arm, touching her very lightly.
The physical contact seemed to affect her more than my words. Or maybe it was the combination of both because, she suddenly rolled over, and before I even knew it, I held her in my arms, rocking her gently while she cried. It was as if she had been holding back her tears for all those days we'd already spent here on Tatooine, and now her inner dam had suffered a breach and it all just poured out of her. Never-ending rivulets ran down her face, which was tightly pressed into the curve of my body where my shoulder met my neck, wetting not only her skin, but mine as well.
I don't know how long I held her, but she calmed down eventually. I carefully made her lie back again, guiding her head onto the soft, rumpled pillow. Her face was flushed and swollen. Exhaustion was written all over it. Her eyes remained closed, the dark lashes sticking together from all the salty wetness, and her lips were slightly parted because she couldn't breathe through her nose properly. Gently, I felt her damp forehead. She had a temperature.
When I rose from my squatting position, her eyes flew open and she reached for my leg, holding on with surprising strength. "Don't go," she breathed, her eyes brimming with even more tears. "Please."
"I'll be back with you in just a moment," I reassured her. "I promise," I added and she let go of me. I quickly crossed the room and headed for the small kitchen section of our hut to prepare a few cloths by soaking them with cold water.
Back at the bed again, I put the cloths aside and made Padmé drink as much as she could. She looked at me over the rim of the cup I held to her lips as she took tiny sips, with blood-shot eyes that openly showed her agitation.
"Very good, now lie down again. Slowly", I instructed her calmly when the cup was empty. I grabbed the cool, moist cloths, moved to the foot of the bed and pushed the thin blanket up to uncover her legs. I back-pedaled for the fraction of a second when I realized that her legs were naked under the blanket, but this was not the time for etiquette and honourable manners. I neatly wrapped the cloths around her slender calves and ankles and pulled the blanket over her small feet again. Then I sat down on the corner of the bed and started to clean her face, very carefully wiping the tears and the sweat from her heated skin.
"Where are my children?" she suddenly asked. "Are they safe?"
I nodded, gently stroking the wet cloth along her cheek for one last time. "Yes, don't worry. Luke and Leia are safe. Both of them."
"Tell me what happened. I remember you holding the babies... That's the last thing I can remember." Her hand found my forearm, squeezing lightly. "Please, I need to know what happened to them."
I put my much larger hand over hers and began to speak. I told her everything she needed to know. About our decision to split her up from her twins. About the simulated funeral. About Bail Organa's willingness to offer Leia a life with a future and a family who would raise and love her as though she was his own child. About little Luke whom I had brought to his uncle's home. And I told her that, even though Luke was going to grow up on the same planet we were living on, it was far too risky to go and visit him. I tried to break it gently to her, but no matter how soft my voice was or how solacing the caress of my hand on hers, it wouldn't take away the cruelty of what I had to say. She was a mother who would never again see her babies. Never. I couldn't think of anything more tragic.
She was more or less composed. I wondered if the fever had clouded her mind so that she failed to grasp the meaning of my words, but then she looked at me and with a very broken voice said: "I'm glad they are safe. Thank you, Obi-Wan."
I could hear that she was fighting to be strong, and I admired her for that.
"Sleep now, Padmé," I ordered gently. She looked so utterly exhausted and tired, I almost couldn't bear watching her.
"Don't go," she said again.
"I promise," I whispered, still holding her pale hand. Less than a minute later, she had fallen asleep.
Her fever was gone a few days later. Even though she was far from being well, she was slowly starting to recover from the shock of the situation. She still wasn't eating, though. There was nothing I could do to make her develop a modicum of appetite. I was very surprised when one evening, she left the bed she'd practically been living in since our arrival, and for the first time came to the other side of the curtain while I was present.
"How are you feeling?" I asked and tried to smile at her. "I'm glad to see you getting up."
She was in her light-coloured nightgown which made her seem even more fragile than she was. She swayed a little and leaned against the wall for support, giving me a strangely scrutinizing look. I just wanted to ask what was wrong when she opened her mouth to speak.
"I've been taking a look around the house this afternoon, while you were gone", she told me matter-of-factly. I could hear accusation in her voice and wondered what I had done to upset her.
"And?" I asked, confused. "Is there a problem?"
"This is the only room. There's no second bed", she said, frowning. "Why didn't you tell me there was no place for you to sleep in? I feel like a selfish idiot now."
"I can sleep on the floor or on a chair", I replied. It wasn't really a lie. I could sleep anywhere if there was need. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but I wasn't picky. As soon as I could be sure that Padmé wouldn't run into mischief the second I left her alone, I would procure another bed. But right now, I'd rather be around her all the time keeping a wary eye on her and pass on the bed.
"Have you slept at all?" she asked insistently.
"Padmé..." I said, my voice urging her to let the matter rest already, but she wouldn't listen.
"You look terrible, Obi-Wan. You didn't get a minute of sleep recently, did you?" she added more softly, suddenly sounding very concerned. I realized that she was only upset because she was worried about my well being, even though she was in a far worse state than me. I almost had to smile.
"Padmé, please. You should care only for yourself right now, that's the most important thing. You need to recover."
"You didn't answer my question," she pointed out, holding my gaze. She was not willing to let me get away with this. I sighed inwardly.
"I can go without proper sleep for several days, don't worry," I tried again. "I'm fine."
She opened her mouth to object, but I quickly interrupted and said, "But you can't go without food for any longer. Come, sit down and eat. Please."
She slightly pursed her lips, thinking for a short moment. Then she rose her chin a little, as if she was preparing for fundamental negotiations. "Listen, Obi-Wan," she said, her resolute voice reminding me of the fact that she was no fragile girl, but a mature woman who had stood her ground in politics for many years. "I suggest a deal. I will sit down and eat with you if you promise to accept my offer to share the bed with me. At least until we have a better solution we both feel comfortable with."
I shook my head. "I can't believe you're trying to blackmail me..."
"I'm not blackmailing you, I'm just worried about you! What's wrong about that? We're friends, and friends care for one another. And I don't want you to sleep on the floor when there's enough room in the bed."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not? You're short of sleep, I can see it. And don't say I'm mistaken, because I know I'm not!"
"It's too narrow for both of us. I want you to be comfortable and get a good rest. You need it. And you won't be able to sleep well if I squash you in."
"That's ridiculous. It's a huge bed. Well, not exactly huge, but it'll do. I don't need much space, I'm a tiny person." She crossed her arms in front of her chest defiantly. "If you refuse, I'll take offense in it..."
"Alright," I finally agreed, fighting with a little grin. "I'd rather not disgruntle a Senator."
"You are very wise, Master Kenobi," she said teasingly and sat down at the small table, surprising me once more. "So what are we having for dinner?"