Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit. That goes for all chapters where I may have forgotten the disclaimer, as well.

A/N: Okay, let me explain. In brief, I have not updated in so long because 1) the computer on which I had this chapter had some serious issues with saving onto a disk, 2) my family moved and I was busy packing and unpacking, 3) I had to go back to school a week after that, so I was packing again, 4) since back at school, I have been SO INSANELY BUSY THAT IT'S JUST INSANE. That said, this is the last full chapter of Home Again. There is an epilogue to follow, which is already typed and beta'd, and it should be up within a few days. I can't thank everyone enough for all of your wonderful, kind reviews. Thank you!

REV042175: Of course everyone is being stubborn. It's a family trait. ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing so faithfully.

VA-Parky: Pleased to have made you squee.

CanaceErinn: I wouldn't worry about Ruwee. It's a family story—but I suppose you shall see!

anarchy101: I haven't given up yet. I hope you haven't given up on me over this, er, long pause.

disaster-strikes-again: Yeah, having a job does suck. Thanks for the support on this issue.

renegade-452: An update has arrived. Thank you for all of your reviews.

Chapter Six: An Understanding

Ruwee managed to avoid lunch, a move he deemed necessary now that his entire family had sided against him in the argument over Padmé's marriage. The rule that no one in the Naberrie house go hungry, however, still stood. Jobal grudgingly brought his food to him in the garage, accused him of pouting again, and left.

Considering the matter as he ate in silence, he conceded that he probably had been too harsh with his daughter. If he was honest with himself, he knew that he probably should have seen something like this coming. Anyone who had done all that Padmé had done in such a short time was bound to go through a similar episode at some point.

He regretted now, as he sometimes did, that Padmé had missed so many ordinary childhood experiences. But then, Padmé had never been an ordinary child. He had taught her everything he knew by the time she was seven, and still she had wanted to know more. He had encouraged her intelligent curiosity, her fervent desire to learn and to help those less fortunate than herself. Ruwee had never pushed her, or pressured her to excel in the way she did. He had only set her loose and watched her fly. Even when Jobal had said that they should rein her in, keep her in classes with people her own age, forbid her from running for office so young, he had refused to hold her brilliance back. She wouldn't have been able to bear it, and neither would he. Padmé had never rebelled as an adolescent, either, unless you counted her break with traditional Naboo pacifism in the matter of the Trade Federation invasion when she was fourteen. So he had somehow never expected her to break down like ordinary people did.

Well, maybe not like ordinary people did. He highly doubted that ordinary people eloped with Jedi when in a state of emotional crisis.

Still, the evidence had been there. He remembered her when she was twelve, newly elected Princess Amidala of Theed, and had visited home for the first time from her quarters in the Palace.

"Dad, we're going to renovate the East Wing of the Parnelli Museum!"

He'd rolled his eyes. "And how much is that going to cost me in taxes?"

"You know you don't care how much money it'll take," she'd laughed. "You love that museum." She grew suddenly serious. "Did you know Naboo is actually one of the few worlds in the Republic which allows…" And they'd spent a half hour in spirited debate over some obscure law or other.

So different from the last time she'd visited before going to Coruscant for the Military Creation Act vote. Somewhere along the way things had changed. Her eyes, which had always conveyed a sense of wisdom beyond her years, were now those of someone who had lived long and seen far too much. "If the Senate votes to create an army, I'm sure the Separatists will see it as an act of aggression rather than defense." She'd sighed wearily. "And I'm not sure they'd be wrong." Her smiles had grown more and more rare until they came only fleetingly, and even then were laced with sadness. The fire which had lit her from within still flamed fiercely when it needed to, but at times it was harder to kindle, and he feared that it was burning itself out. Yes, he should have seen this coming.

And now he was going to fix it. Somehow.

The irony of sneaking into one's own house was not lost on Ruwee as he crept about, hoping to escape notice. He followed the sound of voices to the living room; from the doorway he could see everyone gathered around the droid R2-D2, who was projecting images of some sort onto a table.

"So lovely—the perfect place," Jobal was saying.

Ryoo pointed. "Mommy, look at the pretty flowers."

"This is before the ceremony," Padmé explained from her seat on the couch, Anakin's arm around her.

"Yeah, that's me waiting for Padmé to get ready," the padawan put in. The image before them changed. "And that's me, a few hours later, still waiting for Padmé to get ready."

Padmé laughed. "Anakin!"

"It's all right. I was able to become very good friends with Thadasu Kinalu."

Another gale of Padmé's laughter. "It was not that long. And besides, I think you'll agree the result was worth it."

The next image was of Padmé, and it made Ruwee catch his breath. She was wearing his mother's wedding dress, and she looked beautiful. His little girl.

But the next moment she looked up over Artoo's holoprojection and saw him standing there. Her smile was replaced with an expression of hurt and anger that cut to his heart. He couldn't face her like that. He turned and retreated again to the garden.

In his mind he heard Jobal's words from earlier: Haven't you seen her since she's been home? Haven't you noticed the difference? She's happy, Ruwee. For the first time in so long… She was right, of course. She generally was. There was no way to compare the young woman who only weeks ago had been consumed with the implications of the Military Creation Act to the one who had come up the front walk yesterday with the Jedi at her side. In fact, if he thought about it, the difference had even been apparent when Padmé had first brought Anakin to the house as her bodyguard who was so obviously in love with her. And no sensible words or fatherly concern of his could deny it.

Ruwee's meditations were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him and Anakin's voice calling, "Mr. Naberrie! Wait!" He stopped. So Anakin of all people was going to try to create peace here? The boy had courage, he had to give him that. Well, Ruwee would hear him out. He patiently waited for the padawan to catch up.

"Sir, I'd like to talk to you, if that's all right. I can't make you listen to me, but for your daughter's sake I think you should.

"Well?" Ruwee asked gruffly. The young Jedi was clever enough to realize that for his daughter's sake he'd do anything, but he certainly wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"If you remember, sir, not very long ago, the first time I came here, we walked in the garden just like this. We talked about how the Naboo and the Jedi are similar in the way we give to others, to improve the galaxy… and to protect those we love. You and I both love Padmé. Because you love her, you're afraid I'll hurt her. But the fact that I love her, too, really works out well for both of us because, as a Jedi, I am sworn to protect everyone—but as Padmé's husband, there is nothing I wouldn't do to see that nothing happens to her, ever. To in any way allow harm of any kind to come to her would be simply impossible. She is…" Anakin appeared to be forcefully restraining himself from composing a poem listing Padmé's virtues. He settled on, "She is everything. So, you see," he concluded, "you and I should really be on the same side, here. We both want what's best for Padmé." He took a deep breath before plunging on. You've faced a Sith lord, he reminded himself, but for some reason Count Dooku's visage was not nearly so fearsome at this moment as Ruwee Naberrie's. "And speaking as someone who wants what's best for Padmé, this situation is not acceptable. She loves you. She loves all of you so much—she lights up just talking about you. Her family means more to her than anything and I can't watch her lose it. And in fact, I don't want to lose it, either. My mother was all I had, and now she's gone. But here, I feel at home. I feel like you're all…" He waved his hands vaguely with the effort of trying to express his feelings. "I would love to be a part of your family, and I know Padmé would love it, too. But I can't be until you accept me. So, please, Mr. Naberrie, give me a chance. For Padmé."

Ruwee didn't answer for a moment. He merely stood and surveyed Anakin critically. The padawan waited.

Finally, Ruwee spoke. "I will," he said. "But I didn't decide this based on the things you said." He noted Anakin's puzzled look. "Oh, you're right, of course, about all of it. But what decided me was just one thing: You made my daughter laugh. It's been a long time since I've heard my daughter laugh."

Slowly, Anakin broke into a smile. Ruwee couldn't help but answer it. This boy would make a good, if unconventional, son-in-law. However…

"Now, I know you say the last thing you want is for Padmé to be hurt, but I feel I should warn you—"

"I know. Sola's already threatened me," Anakin responded as they turned back toward the house.

"Good for Sola. What with?"

"The entire population of Naboo."

"Very good, but what I had in mind was an exceptionally large pair of gardening shears. I trust you wish to keep your remaining limbs?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Ruwee nodded. "Then I believe we understand one another."

Side by side they reached the back door, where Padmé was waiting, looking absolutely furious. She glared at her father.

"What did you say to him?" she demanded. Then, without waiting to hear the answer, "No. Nevermind. We're leaving."

"I agree," Ruwee stated solemnly. "You should leave. But I would ask you to stay one more night."

"Why?" she snapped.

"You denied your family the chance to see you be married. The least you can do is let us give you a wedding celebration."

Anakin could hardly keep from laughing as he watched the words sink in and the anger drain from Padmé's face. Ruwee appeared equally amused as he continued, 'Just us, here, at the house, of course. Although your mother will probably cook enough to feed most of the continent. Then you can go back to Varykino in the morning. It is your honeymoon, after all."

Padmé turned to her husband in wonder. "What did you say to him?"

"Not much," Anakin shrugged.

She looked back at Ruwee. "Dad, I… I'm sorry. For everything."

"And I'm sorry, too," he answered. "So sorry, Padmé."

"It's just that before, even with everything I'd done, I wasn't…" she struggled to find the words. "I just wasn't living before."

Ruwee Naberrie took his daughter in his arms. "I know, ami tipasimé," he said softly. "I know, my beloved little girl."