Chapter 2
On the other side of the palace, in her Senatorial suite, Padmé Skywalker stood before a mirrored wall. In the past two hours she'd managed to try on at least fifteen different dresses. The evidence was a growing pile of gowns strewn carelessly in the walk-in closet to her right. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully before releasing a pent-up breath.
A young woman who served as both handmaiden and bodyguard sat on the bed behind her, smiling indulgently at her Lady's audible sighs.
"How nice that my suffering can amuse you, Dormé." Padmé muttered, meeting her retainer's steady gaze in the mirror. The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, but clearly not without considerable effort. The brown eyes, so like Padmé's own, still sparkled with humor.
"I'm sorry m'lady." The apology, though softly and sincerely uttered, lacked conviction.
Padmé Amidala Skywalker had lived in the spotlight all her life. While still in primary school she had entered Naboo's Legislative Youth program only to rise quickly through its leadership ranks courtesy of wisdom far beyond her years. At the tender age of 14 she found herself the democratically elected and crowned Queen of her entire homeworld. After serving two consecutive four-year terms, she'd looked forward to retirement from the political arena only to once again find herself drawn into public service, this time as a Republic Senatorial representative. Today, however, her trademark self-confidence was conspicuously absent.
"Matching wits with interplanetary leaders, leading peace negotiations for the entire galaxy and influencing the combined governments of millions of worlds comes easily to me. Why am I having so much trouble picking a gown?" Frustration laced her voice.
"Perhaps my hair is the problem. Does it go with this dress? Or is it too casual? Do you think I have time to redo it? Maybe sweep it all up?" She turned her head from side to side, pulling her hair up and away from her neck before letting it fall back down in a shining cascade of sable curls. Her reflection showed a simple, but elegant hairstyle comprised of numerous delicate ropes of hair twisting away from a center part to be drawn back into a golden clip above the curls at her nape. Not even an hour ago Dormé had heartily approved the style for its combination of regal sophistication and allure.
"M'lady, you and your husband have been separated a very long time. He'll be so thrilled to see you that you'll be lucky if he even notices you have hair."
Padmé sighed again, and then smiled wryly. Her anxiety was beginning to ebb thanks to her friend's gentle teasing.
Dormé was one of only two personal attendants in young senator Amidala's employ. She was also Padmé's closest friend. Of all the people in her life, Dormé alone shared her most secret confidences. In particular, only she knew of Padmé's marriage to the young Jedi Skywalker.
Padmé was thankful for her friend's unwavering loyalty every minute of every day. Her presence was one of few things that made Anakin's absence bearable. It was strange, really, how she hadn't recognized her own loneliness until Anakin came back into her life. Now her every thought, dream and goal seemed to center around him. Dormé could empathize somewhat with Padmé's situation being married to a member of the Naboo Royal Guard. Her own husband spent many months at a time traveling to official off-world functions with Queen Jamillia.
As if Dormé's trustworthiness and companionship weren't enough, almost a year ago she had given her newlywed friend a most wonderful gift. With the unexpected help of Chancellor Palpatine (Anakin chose his own confidantes well) she had pulled off a feat that was nothing short of miraculous. She'd received a private communiqué from a mysterious source advising her of a mix-up in the Jedi Council's itinerary log. The error would give Anakin two full days between his scheduled departure from the temple and his expected arrival at his next assignment. It hinted that young Skywalker planned to take full advantage of the mix-up. Dormé didn't waste the information.
While finishing up a diplomatic mission to an outer rim planet, Senator Amidala was rumored to have suddenly contracted a strange and unidentifiable illness. She was forced to abandon her duty and return to Coruscant immediately. Upon arrival she would spend time in quarantine receiving care from a state of the art medical droid and, of course, her personal attendant. For Dormé, deactivating the medical droid had been no obstacle.
So, with alibis secure, the newlyweds had been able to meet to enjoy a late honeymoon in a very private, very luxurious Coruscant penthouse (Padmé suspected Palpatine was the source of that as well). Though their time together was brief, they were beyond grateful.
Most recently, it had been Dormé who had received Anakin's coded transmission telling them he was soon to arrive on Naboo. From the moment Dormé handed her lady the message all other matters were relegated to the realm of insignificance. Everything, that is, except the critical task of choosing the right hairstyle and an appropriate gown.
"It is the dress, then? Do you think it's too obvious?" Padmé turned away from the full-length mirror only to look back over her shoulder dubiously. She eyed the open back of the gown with suspicion.
Dormé pretended to seriously consider the matter. Of course there was nothing wrong with the dress. It was a beautiful burgundy affair with many layers of filmy material that seemed to float on imaginary breezes. It reminded her of Padmé's favorite rainbow-pastel dress; only it did not flirt or project the same air of springtime innocence. This one's wine-dark color and the slightly deeper, more provocative cut were definitely meant to seduce.
"Hmmm. Too obviously what?" Dormé asked innocently.
Padmé sighed again, tapping her foot in frustration. Her friend took pity.
"No, m'lady, your dress is perfect. You look perfect. Radiant. Master Anakin doesn't stand a chance." She exhaled deeply. "Besides, it will take me a full day just to reorganize your closet as it is! If you try on anything else…"
Padmé missed the teasing twinkle in her friend's eyes. "Oh Dormé, I wasn't thinking! I'll help you hang everything back up!" She was turning toward the closet when the door chime sounded. Her eyes widened. After all these months her husband was finally here!
Dormé arose from her place on the bed, smoothing the spread and flashing Padmé a bright smile. "Don't worry about your closet m'lady. You have far more important matters to attend to than hanging dresses. I'll see to them after you leave tomorrow. Your case is packed and by the door."
Unhurried, the handmaiden crossed to the closet and waved her hand in front of the control panel. A metal portal slid shut, hiding the chaos from view. Turning to the bedside table, she pulled a crimson flower from the arrangement there. To Padmé's surprise, she crushed the bloom in her hand and tossed the loose petals over the bed. They fell in artful chaos on the midnight blue spread.
"I think it's time I found something that needs doing elsewhere." She embraced Padmé, kissed her cheek and whispered, "You look beautiful."
Padmé returned her smile. Her confidence returning by degrees as she watched Dormé cross to the main entrance and wave her hand over the sensor.
The door slid open, revealing an anxious but still amazingly handsome Anakin Skywalker. The Jedi looked larger and more imposing than Dormé remembered. Though she knew him to be only 20, the war had stamped a new maturity over his features. His hair was longer, his jaw stronger and his shoulders had traded their former youthful leanness for muscle. Cloaked in black, his strong presence seemed to reach in from the doorway to fill the room.
Once Padmé saw Anakin any remaining traces of nervousness vanished. She opened her arms, greeting him with a radiant welcoming smile.
At the sight of his lady Anakin's formal manners deserted him. He mumbled an incoherent greeting to Dormé as he brushed past her to take Padmé in his arms.
Their lips met hungrily, youthful passion fueled by months apart. Neither husband nor wife noticed the handmaiden's departure as the door slid shut behind her.
Her duty almost done, Dormé programmed the access panel from outside. The light above the door switched from purple to red, signaling the portal would remain closed until the occupants disengaged the lock from within.
The passing of several hours found them huddled under the covers of Padmé's bed. Jedi garments were strewn carelessly around the room and Padmé's dress was a puddle of maroon silk on the floor.
"I can't believe it. I spent hours choosing the right dress and you have me out of it in less than two minutes." Padmé teased her husband, pretending an ire she obviously didn't feel.
Anakin, lying beside her, perched on his elbow to gaze down into her face. "Hey, I've got my priorities." His face wore a very adult half-smile. Once it would have made her uncomfortable. Now it left her breathless.
He cradled her cheek in his palm before trailing his fingers down her neck. "I didn't take this off, though." There, on a delicate chain, was the small snippet of japor he'd given her over a decade earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"I wouldn't have let you take it off. I've worn it close to my heart since the day we were wed." She reached up to touch it reverently. "Under the circumstances, it's all I can wear to symbolize our marriage."
"Oh Padmé, I've missed you so much!" His voice was husky, but fervent.
"Me too. I never knew I could feel like half of me just isn't here. That's how it is when we're apart." The teasing glint disappeared from her eyes, leaving a far more intense emotion in its wake. "Even when I'm with my friends or family I don't feel complete."
Anakin couldn't resist answering the earnest declaration with a gentle kiss. He pulled her lips to his, drawing back only when he felt he could trust his voice. "I feel the same way. I've felt that way every day since I left Naboo the first time. It's a hundred times worse now that we're married. I finally know what I'm missing."
Padmé's eyes widened at his revelation. "Anakin, you were only nine years old when you left Naboo with Obi-Wan!"
"Even then I knew I'd marry you someday. That fact has been truth to me since the first time I saw you."
"Yes, I remember you saying something like that. It made me very nervous."
"Nervous?" He tried to brighten the conversation, hoping to bring the carefree light back to her eyes.
"Alright, maybe nervous isn't the right word. Apprehensive, then."
"Apprehensive?" He responded to her words with what he hoped was an appropriately crestfallen expression.
She refused to take the bait and murmured. "You were very sweet Ani, but you were just a child."
"And you weren't?" He sat up, preparing to feign indignance only to find he didn't have to pretend. "Padmé, there has never been that much difference in our ages."
"I know it doesn't matter now, but it did when I was fourteen. I was a Queen with an entire planet depending on my judgment and maturity." She pulled herself up beside him. "I didn't have time for girlish dreams of romance."
He sighed dramatically. "I know, but it's cruel of you to remind me. To know you never thought of me that way while I dreamed about you for ten years…" The subtle, mocking tone had re-entered his voice, laced with perhaps a hint of self-deprecation. "I remembered every detail of your face, every nuance of your voice, your perfume. Your subtlest gestures were poetry to me. I lived for any glimpse of you, any mention of your name in the media..."
Padmé giggled uncharacteristically at both his elaborate words and the sulky expression he'd affected. "I'm not going to apologize, Anakin, but I bet I can find a way to make it up to you." She trailed a hand down his chest and under the covers, glancing up at him from under dark lashes.
All thought of teasing fled Anakin's mind in an instant. Longing borne of endless months of loneliness flooded back in a rush. As he pulled her to him and nuzzled her neck she was just able to make out the muffled words "I'm sure you can!"
The following day their idyll began with a boat ride to the lake country retreat. Their first stop was the palazzo overlooking the water. As the site of their first kiss and, later, their wedding, it was even more beautiful than either remembered. The late season flowers had been planted along the walkways and splashes of orange, red and gold were everywhere. Padmé talked Anakin into swimming out to her island, where hours passed slowly and intimately on the beach. It never occurred to Anakin to protest the coarseness of the sand.
That evening at the chalet, they dined intimately at a small table by the fireplace. Though it was well out of fashion in elite social circles, Padmé wore the same black leather corset dress that she had worn during their last dinner here. The outfit had the same effect on Anakin as it had back then. Fortunately for both of them, this time they were free to act on their feelings. It was quite a while before they left the rug by the fireplace to return to the table for dessert.
The next afternoon they visited their meadow by the waterfall. This time Padmé chose a spot closer to the water under the shade of a large golden-leafed tree. As before, they spread Anakin's Jedi cloak and sat down to share a picnic. For a while husband and wife were taken back to the afternoon they'd spent in this same field over a year ago. Thankfully both had chosen more practical clothing this time around – simple belted tunics in shades of blue. Rolling around in the grass was much easier without a flowing skirt.
For a while their fun was cheerful and carefree. Wildflowers grew among the long blades of prairie grass; filling the air with an intoxicating fragrance. Anakin idly picked a dozen or so brightly colored blooms and braided them into a small wreath.
"What do you plan to do with that?" She eyed the floral loop dubiously. Anakin leaned over and plopped it on top of her head, declaring her queen of the meadow. She laughed before firing back her own reply. "I guess that would make you the king of the Shaaks?"
"Oh, no. Count me out! Royalty doesn't suit me. Besides, I'm far better at riding Reeks than Shaaks, which isn't saying much!" They laughed like children, slapping and tickling each other playfully.
It wasn't long, though, before talk turned to recent events and the subject of war crept into the discussion. To his credit, Anakin tried to keep things light. For the better part of an hour he sat against the tree trunk with Padmé's head in his lap, regaling his lady with tales of recent space battles.
"…it was incredible! We surprised an envoy of six Trade Federation command ships. Our snub fighters didn't have the firepower to break the hangar bay defenses, but we did take out every gun tower and easily three times our number in fighters. My squadron didn't lose even one ship."
"They've given you your own command?" Padmé's voice held only a hint of surprise. She knew her husband was an exceptional pilot, but command was usually reserved for seasoned pilots or Jedi Knights.
"Actually, I have twice the usual complement of fighters. Twenty pilots fly under my ensign. They're all clones, of course - highly trained and technically excellent." He twisted several stalks of grass idly in his fingers. "The trouble is, they've done so many simulated missions that they can't think creatively in live combat situations. I know they are organic life forms and I can use the force to communicate my will to them, but they still remind me of droids. The best they give is an adequate performance. They do only what they're told - no more, no less. They'll never be exceptional or heroic, but I can't complain. Their "adequate" has already been good enough to make us one of the most decorated units in the Republic fleet."
He discarded the mutilated pieces of foliage by tossing them over his shoulder. "Which reminds me…"
Padmé watched attentively as he pulled a small holoprojector out of his pocket. With a flick of the switch he showed her several holos of medals he'd acquired in the line of duty. The names he rattled off were of planetary systems where battles had been won, locations key to the Republic's continued dominion over the Separatists.
As he listed his accomplishments Padmé's expression changed noticeably. Lines of worry gathered between her brows. Anakin saw the change and correctly perceived the reasons for it. His accolades were stark reminders that he risked his life every moment they were apart. Her velvet eyes had grown dark and shadowed.
Clicking the holoprojector shut Anakin once again tried to lighten the mood by changing the subject. He picked a new topic, one dear to his wife's heart. "How goes the search for new homes for the war refugees?"
The distraction worked well. Helping the war victims was Padmé's latest passion. Her eyes brightened instantly as she launched into describing her visits to some of the outlying worlds. Anakin couldn't keep from staring at her face as it grew more and more animated.
"A surprising number of worlds have shunned refugees. They seem obsessed with declaring neutrality, saying they want no part of 'leftovers' from the rest of the galaxy." Her eyes clouded a little as she continued. "It's as if they believe that denying the existence of the war will ensure it won't ever touch them."
"Hah!" Anakin hadn't intended to comment, but the exclamation just wouldn't be stifled. "It'd be great if that were true! I'd be a lot less busy."
"Right. We just can't make them understand that the Separatists don't care what they claim." Anxiousness had entered her voice now and her words came faster. "Still, they haven't all been like that. There are quite a few loyalist systems agreeing to welcome the homeless with open arms."
"No doubt due to your powers of persuasion." Anakin's gaze reflected pride in the amazing woman next to him. His woman. "Who can refuse you once you set your mind to something? You're the best advocate I know."
She shifted self-consciously on the cloak blanket. Compliments always made her uncomfortable and this was no exception. She indelicately tried to swing the topic away from herself and back to politics.
"Its really very sad to see how many worlds won't declare loyalty to the Republic, not even to keep their people safe from the Separatists." Padmé sighed in frustration. "They can't conceive of the fact that such a threat to their survival really exists if they've never seen it. By the time the danger becomes apparent to them it will be too late."
Anakin considered her seriously "Aren't you saying that they should just give up their autonomy? Choose one master before another is chosen for them?"
"Ani, you know that isn't how the Republic works. We only want the systems to be free to govern themselves."
"Right. Within strictures set out by the Senate, doing whatever politicians feel is best for the majority." Anakin's voice wasn't critical, just matter-of-fact. This was truly the way he perceived the political machine.
Padmé sighed in frustration and rose up on her knees. Her face held the determined look Anakin had come to recognize as a prelude to a debate. Definitely not how he wanted to spend this afternoon.
He sought a compromise. "Look sweetheart, I know you are fiercely loyal to the Republic. I love that about you. I just don't agree that it should be a one-side-or-the-other decision for independent systems who wish to remain self-governing."
"But you're a Jedi, Anakin. Jedi support the Republic. They have for millennia."
"True, but I've never said I agree with that mission. From everything I've seen its always been flawed."
"Yes," one corner of Padmé's mouth curled upward, "I seem to remember you saying that before."
He leaned forward intently. "Padmé, I fight for the Republic because it is my duty as a Jedi. I've never pretended to understand their cause or the rest of intergalactic politics. Generations live and die. Political leaders change. Governments rise and fall. The Force is all that will last forever." He paused, refocusing his thoughts.
"There's more to it though. I think I also fight because you do and it makes me feel closer to you. That, and the Republic isn't out there killing innocent people. The Separatists deserve defeat because their methods are cruel and inhuman - and I'm going to make sure they get what they deserve."
Padmé glanced at Anakin uneasily. "You're right about one thing. They lack even a shred of humanity. Life doesn't matter to them, only power. Their senseless slaughter must be stopped. It's just that there has already been so much death and destruction."
The whole concept of retaliation was something Padmé hated with every fiber of her being, so Anakin recognized her words as quite a concession. It was clear after a decade of trying more peaceful methods that the Separatists weren't interested in diplomatic negotiation. The Jedi, too, had finally been forced to concede the point after so many of their number perished in the massacre at Geonosis.
Just after that battle, droid army attacks had been launched on several key Loyalist worlds. The unexpected destruction had taken everyone by surprise. All they could do was organize rescue crews to dig through the rubble on those decimated systems. Though the search for survivors had been heartbreaking, Padmé and other political leaders had overseen the tasks personally.
Thanks to their efforts, several dozen civilian rescue crews had been organized and were responsible for saving countless lives. Padmé had then turned her energies to the more long-term Refugee Relocation Project. As in most things, she had attacked the task with total devotion. He listened intently as she spoke about how they'd found homes for thousands of refugees in only a few short weeks. Her accomplishments had been nothing short of amazing.
Of all the things he admired about his wife, her ability to focus was the trait Anakin coveted for himself. She could dedicate herself single-mindedly to a cause and refuse to quit until it was done. It was an attribute Anakin felt he had never mastered. No matter where he was or what he was doing, some part of himself was always looking ahead to the future. Obi-Wan was forever telling him to be mindful of the present and Anakin knew he couldn't refute the criticism.
Even now his mind was wandering. He found himself watching Padmé intently, carefully memorizing every detail of her expression, every nuance of her voice, the emotions lighting her face. He would need those images later, in the cold and lonely isolation of space. He didn't realize he'd stopped listening to her words until she waved her hand in front of his eyes.
"Anakin!" She didn't appear annoyed. Rather, a mild amusement had crept into her voice. "You aren't hearing a word I'm saying."
He didn't pretend otherwise. "No, I'm not." To Anakin, the war and all its chaos seemed light years away. He'd left his heart here on Naboo and having it back made him realize just how empty he had been.
He slid over closer to Padmé, stretching out on the dark material of his cloak. "I was just thinking, wife, that we've given entirely too much of this afternoon to the war." He tugged her down beside him, wrapping his arm around her so that her head rested naturally in the crook of his shoulder, and leaned down to kiss her temple. She must have agreed with his assessment because she snuggled closer. They stayed that way, quiet, basking in shared warmth and companionship until the waning light forced them to return to the lake house.
Some time that night Anakin woke to the sound of thunder. Untangling his limbs from Padmé's he rose from the bed and grabbed pants from the back of a nearby chair. He slid them on, tied the drawstring and opened the terrace door. A strong wind fought its way inside, whipping the filmy curtains around him. Impatiently he tied the unruly window dressings in a knot and peered out toward the lake.
The downpour that met his gaze was spectacular. Such storms were a common occurrence here on Naboo, especially during this, the pre-winter season. This deluge showed no sign of stopping any time soon.
He leaned against the doorframe. As always, he found the sight of so much water falling from the sky mesmerizing. It was true that he'd seen impressive storms on other planets. Coruscant even boasted programmed rain cycles in its artificial atmosphere, but nothing he'd ever seen compared to the torrent he witnessed now. The rain seemed to fall with a vengeance; it's ferocity and power beckoning him.
Closing his eyes, he allowed his other senses to drink in the sounds and scents of the storm. He focused on the rain itself, dropping into a meditative state to try and feel each individual droplet of water as it fell to the concrete outside. It would have been an impossible task even for the most gifted of Jedi. Still, the attempt helped him find an odd sort of peace, an unaffected resting place at the center of the tempest.
Eventually he found himself aware of his surroundings once more. A glance back at Padmé showed her sleeping peacefully among piles of covers. His throat tightened as he studied her face. This would be their last night together for quite some time. Tomorrow he would return to the Jedi Temple. He hadn't told her yet, knowing it would cast a pall over the remainder of their time together.
He was expected to return to Coruscant to help plan a pre-emptive strike on Munnilinist, the homeworld of the powerful Banking Clan. In his head he ticked off countless excuses he could use for not making it back. None of them were viable.
A vivid flash followed by a loud crack pulled his attention back to the fury of the storm outside. His breath caught as blue lightning split the sky. Cold fear settled in the pit of his stomach and he had to force himself to pull air into his lungs. Unconsciously his artificial hand clenched as his body remembered another burst of hot blue lightning, one followed by blinding pain.
Slim arms encircling his waist startled him back into the present. Padmé's reassuring presence washed over him, easing the vice constricting his chest. Her silky robe cooled the electric fire his skin so vividly remembered as she pressed soothing kisses along his back.
How did she always seem to know when his demons were tormenting him? Did she realize it took only her touch to banish them back to the darkness?
He turned and drew her into his embrace. How long they stood that way he didn't know, but Anakin was able to close his eyes to the lightning. He let her presence work it's gentle magic. Neither the horrors of the past, nor the darkness of the present could touch him within the circle of her arms.
Outside the raging storm gradually abated to a gentle mist. The deluge had ended, leaving in its wake the fresh scent of a world washed clean. He was overcome by the absurd desire to stop time. In that instant he wanted nothing more than to stay here in their special place holding Padmé forever.
It was she who broke the silence. "You're leaving in the morning, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet and sad. From the sound of it he could tell she didn't really need an answer. Though she hadn't moved a muscle, Anakin felt her withdraw from him. A dull ache centered in his chest.
"Oh Padmé. We both know I have to go."
She nodded, her face buried in his chest. "Part of me knows. That part, the rational one, can even accept it if I have to. The other part just wants to run and hide from the loneliness that will start as soon as you walk out the door."
He stroked her sable curls, letting them flow through his fingers like liquid silk. Her words were true. There was nothing he could say to offer comfort, save perhaps a simple declaration. "I love you. I always have. Nothing will ever change that. You are my wife, my beautiful angel…the other half of my heart."
She pulled back and gazed up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. "I know, Ani. I love you too." She raised trembling hands to his face, tenderly touching his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, as if to memorizing every contour of his features. "I will miss you every moment."
He wasn't surprised to feel an answering sting in his own eyes. He kissed her fingertips as they traced his lips. "I can't remember a time when I didn't miss you."
He leaned down then to press his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, echoing the fading storm outside. Her arms reached up to encircle his neck as her fingers tangled in his hair. Their lips remained fused even when he scooped her up in his arms. His stride was strong and purposeful as he carried her back to the bed. He broke the kiss only long enough to lay her on top of the covers and whisper in her ear. "Padmé Skywalker, we have several hours before sunrise. I suggest we use the time wisely."
She did not disagree. In fact, she contributed several clever ideas of her own.