Chapter 4

Star Wars and all its characters are not mine. They belong to George Lucas. His, not mine. Don't sue me.

Myra led Padmé to Obi-Wan's room, no more than two doors down from her own. Myra paused at the door, turning to Padmé. "He will more than likely be asleep. If he wakes, that's his problem," Myra said with a little smirk. "But don't try to wake him yourself."

Like if I'm really that dumb about these sort of things, Padmé thought while still smiling and nodding at Myra. "I understand."

Myra nodded, opened the door for Padmé, and left.

Padmé watched Obi-Wan sleep. She envied him, looking so peaceful. Though her face looked serene and under control, her heart was churning. She was so full of questions about everything. Enough about my own worries…goodness, everyone has more things to worry about than I do, she told herself. Focusing on others worries usually made her own seem rather small.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Padmé's worried face looking down at him. As soon as she realized he was awake though, she smiled broadly.

"How are you feeling Obi-Wan?" she asked quietly.

"Like I got run over by a speeder," Obi-Wan replied, smiling a little himself. Padmé almost laughed at that, but then her face twisted up in an effort to hold back her tears. "I'm so sorry for what happened. All of it. For everything…"

"Padmé," Obi-Wan tried to persuade her. "It wasn't your fault. Not at all. It was Anakin's choice. Everything he has done was his choice." Realizing he was now partially sitting up and that his head and sides didn't like it, he lay back. "And I won't hear any more of it," he said, with a small smile on his face.

Padmé nodded and wiped her eyes. She stared at the opposite wall, looking very fearful. "I can't help but worry about the future. What will I do? What will Anakin do? What will you do?" She herself looked a bit baffled by her flurry of questions.

"I honestly don't know right now…" Obi-Wan murmured with his eyes closed. "I'd rather not think about it at the present moment. I suppose that I must go into hiding somewhere, and so should you." He sighed. "And Anakin," he added. "That is the only way that we will all be safe from the Emperor."

Padmé suddenly looked quite full of determination, and began entering into her "Senator" mode. "We can't just hide from that monster! We cannot leave the galaxy in his hands! He'll destroy all that the Republic and the Senate ever worked for!"
Obi-Wan honestly agreed with her, but with the way his head was feeling at the present moment made him want to hide from the monster rather than fight it. "That's all we can do for now," Obi-Wan told her, about ready to drift off. Even with his eyes closed and his senses fogged, he knew that Padmé, though somewhat frightened of this whole situation, was not going to be easily daunted in her opinion on the Emperor's rule. Eventually she would fight till her death to restore democracy to the galaxy, as would he.

Just not right now.

He heard a soft female voice call Padmé, then her hand atop his. "I have to go Obi-Wan," she whispered to him. "Good bye. I wish you well until we see each other again." Obi-Wan nodded to her, and she left.

As she and Myra walked out of Obi-Wan's room, Padmé felt a new surge of confidence, as if some old fighting spirit had resurfaced itself within her. She felt ready for whatever was to be thrown at her.

Well, almost anything.

Anything except her husband's screams from down the hall.

Padmé practically ran down the corridor to the source of her Ani's agony, despite Myra's persistent words that floated after her to slow down. She didn't listen.

She threw open the door just as some equipment went flying right above her head. It seemed that Anakin's favorite things to through in his tantrums were particularly large and sharp pieces of equipment. A hand practically jerked her back outside the doorway.

"You can't go in there Padmé!" Myra said rather firmly as all the attendants standing in the hallway scattered and a stretcher flew out the door and hit the opposite wall.

"But I have to!"

"No. You don't," Myra told her firmly again. "I marvel and admire your loyalty, m'lady, but going in there is…is…" Myra searched and searched for a nice way to put the words in her head into. "Not permitted," she finally decided.

The logical side of Padmé's mind told her that she was indeed wrong to venture so willingly into that kind of a situation, but her heart needed to see Anakin. "When will I be able to see Anakin again?" she asked Myra.

Myra shook her head. "I honestly do not know," she replied. Padmé nodded, pursing her lips together. She didn't like this whole situation. Not at all. Who had gotten them into this mess? Whoever it was was going to get a very, very long lecture from her on how she despised them for getting her, Obi-Wan, and Anakin into this mess.

But it was Anakin who had gotten them all into this mess…

Padmé thought of the prophecy that Anakin had always complained so much about in the past as Myra led her back to her room. The Chosen One. He was the Chosen One. Chosen for what? To be evil? To forget his family and friends and follow the path of a Sith? He was supposed to defeat the Sith, not be his right-hand-man in ruling the galaxy.

Well, if he put us into this situation, maybe, just maybe, he can get us out. Somehow. I believe in you, my Ani. See us through. Come back to us, my love.