CHAPTER III

An Anti-Love Letter

Dormé strode through the bustling corridors of the Senate docking ring, a tiny scroll held firmly in her right hand, her mind on the time. The Senator's vessel was due to take off soon; a small contingent from Naboo was already assembled at the docking bay. A few minutes ago, Senator Amidala had palmed to Dormé a carefully sealed scroll with the quiet instruction, "please see that this gets to Padawan Skywalker."

So, tiered headdress heavy on her neck and shoulders, the handmaiden was now making her reluctant but quick way towards the Jedi Temple. The Senator would have done better to send her droid on this errand - Dormé had a strong suspicion that being the bearer of this epistle would not endear her to Padawan Skywalker. But she had no choice but to obey her mistress.

Absorbed in dismal thoughts, she almost ran headlong into Padawan Barriss Offee. Dormé recognized the exotically beautiful tattooed face of the Mirialan immediately.

"Excuse me," Dormé quickly apologized. "I was not watching..."

"Think nothing of it," the Jedi replied. She gave Dormé an inquisitive look. "You are handmaiden to Senator Amidala, are you not?"

The two had met briefly when Dormé accompanied her mistress to visit Anakin Skywalker in the Temple's Healing Wards although Dormé had hardly expected the busy Jedi Healer to recollect a handmaiden.

"Yes, I am," Dormé said, pleased. She suddenly saw an opportunity. "In fact, I'm on my way to the Temple to deliver a message from the Senator to Padawan Skywalker."

"Anakin? What a coincidence. I was just on my way to check on him. I can deliver your message for you if you would like?" Padawan Offee offered.

Dormé did not think twice about trusting the matter to a Jedi. "If you would be so kind," she replied quickly, fervently relieved, not only at hastening her mission but at avoiding it entirely.

She handed the Padawan the scroll, bowed and, feeling supremely lighter, started making her way back to the docking rig.

Curious.

The Senator's handmaiden was not headed in the direction of the Senate offices, but towards the docking rig. Barriss looked down at the scrolled parchment in her hand. It did not bear the seal of Naboo like she would have expected, but a more peculiar emblem, probably the Senator's personal seal. The parchment itself felt strange in more ways than in its physical texture; it gave Barriss an inexplicable feeling of apprehension about seeing Anakin again. She examined her thoughts but could not pin-point the cause of anxiety clearly. Pushing them away and the scroll into her robes, she continued to the Temple.

Anakin was not in his quarters. Barriss sensed that before she reached his door. Had he forgotten that he was discharged from the Healing centre and gone there instead? Somehow, Barriss doubted that. Perhaps he was meditating - or training with Master Obi-Wan. The latter thought made her frown. She had decided to head towards the training rooms when she did sense him. She turned to see Anakin walking down the hall towards her.

"Hello, Barriss," he called cheerfully.

He was in a pleasant mood, for once.

"Anakin, I was just looking for you," she called.

Anakin gave her a half smile. "Came to make sure my arm hasn't fallen off yet?"

"Something like that." She smiled back.

They entered the quarters he shared with Master Obi-Wan; Anakin unceremoniously threw himself on his sleeping mat. In the corner of the room, a rusty-plated protocol droid stood, or rather slumped. It appeared to be deactivated.

"It's fine. It's taking awhile to get used to," he admitted. "I'll have to start lightsaber training soon."

"Not for a few days," Barriss warned, turning her eyes - and curiosity - away from the decrepit-looking machine. "You can meditate until then."

Anakin rolled his eyes, but complied and took off his outer tunic so she could get a good look at the attachment point. There was no infection but the purple and green bruises remained. She had a suspicion that it hurt more than he was letting on. She used the Force to give him a burst of pain relief. He winced as her hand touched him, but the ache gradually faded. Still, it was merely physical relief; the emotional scars would take longer to heal. Anakin had become surprisingly good at hiding his feelings as of late, but the young healer could still tell that he had barely begun to deal with that aspect. It was worrisome.

"You'll need to stop by the Healing ward for a bacta treatment tomorrow." It was more an order than a suggestion.

"I know, I won't forget." He sighed.

"I'm not concerned about you forgetting."

"Well if you're not concerned, why are you reminding me now? As a matter of fact if you're not concerned enough to remind me now, how will I remember to come?" He raised an eyebrow.

When he got into these circular conversations he was impossible to deal with.

"Oh, Anakin just come! It won't kill you, in fact it might make you feel better," she teasingly replied.

He grinned. "Alright, I suppose I could use some bacta."

"Good." She was turning to leave when she remembered the handmaiden and the letter. "Oh, I ran into Senator Amidala's handmaiden a few moments ago, and she bade me give you this."

Barriss produced the parchment from the folds of her robe and handed it over to Anakin. His demeanor changed instantly; his Force signature flickered with some sort of … strange emotion and then he clamped down his shields violently.

All Barriss' previous suspicions were re-alerted.

"It seems to be bearing her personal seal. Why would the Senator send you a personal letter?" she asked, her mild tone rendered useless by the avid curiosity she knew was on her face.

"I have no idea, but if you'll excuse me…" Jumping to his feet, Anakin escorted her out of his quarters, all but using the Force to push her out into the hallway.

"Tomorrow, don't forget," Barriss managed to say just before the door slid shut in her face.

She stared at it, perplexed. She, like practically all the Jedi, knew that Anakin and Senator Amidala had become good friends during his assignment with her. That there was something more suspicious between them did not need a Jedi to figure that out. And now this letter…

In spite of herself, Barriss was worried about her friend.

Leaning for support against the hard durasteel door, sweat beading up his forehead, Anakin held the scroll, the first contact he had had with Padmé since Geonosis, with trembling hands.

Why would she have written him a letter? Where was she? Why hadn't she sent for him? Why hadn't she contacted him sooner?

Equal amounts of fear and anticipation gripped him and he almost ripped through the parchment in his haste to break the seal. He unrolled the scroll and the faintest scent of her perfume filled the air. His knees weakened.

Anakin,

At the sight of his name printed in Padmé's delicate handwriting, his knees gave way completely and he collapsed onto the floor in longing.

Anakin,

As you are reading this I am traveling back to Naboo. You have no idea how hard this is for me, but it must be done. We can't do this Anakin, and we both know it. I have no words for how much it hurts me. I treasure our time together on Naboo, but it leaves me with a terrible feeling of foreboding. My words were said in honesty, but I did not understand their implication. I thought we were about to lose our lives. And a part of me did die that day, as part of me was brought to life.

Since you first walked into my chambers with Master Kenobi I knew somehow that I would be forever changed. Maybe it was the Force, maybe it was my heart- but it wasn't my head. I was overwhelmed by many things, at first, admittedly, it was your beauty. Thinking back on it I realize that I should have been able to tell at ten years old. Because you are beautiful Ani, inside and out. On our first day at the Lake Retreat I looked into your eyes and was lost... I thought I had pulled away successfully, but I never did, not until now. But I was scared; these were emotions I have never dealt with, even at twenty-four. Our first night together I offered to become bait for the assassin, I suppose to test your abilities. For that I'm sorry, but they were proven when you leapt onto my bed and so deftly killed those creatures. And so it began. I lectured you in my quarters because I was so distracted I did not know what else to do. I berated you in front of the Queen and security because I was afraid. I let myself fall because I didn't know any better. I understood the words I was saying, but not their true meaning. I'm telling you this now because I fear I might never have the chance again.

One of the most perfect and happy memories I possess is of our picnic in the meadow. I'll always remember your excitement at helping Teckla pack our lunch and the subsequent race to the countryside. It left me time to slowly follow and think. Maybe I just think too much. It was a beautiful day. When you jumped on top of that shaak like a child to impress me, I laughed like I haven't been able to do in a long time. When you fell off I was truly frightened. I'm still angry at you for that. But I see why you did it, as we rolled down the hill together I understood. In those few seconds I experienced a freedom I never had before. The freedom to be young, and to gaze into the eyes of someone who truly cares for you... If only the galaxy could just vanish and leave us there forever, but it can't. I've accepted that now, you must as well.

The night where you confessed your feelings I was surprised, even though I knew them to be true already. I was surprised that you could be so bold, although I can't think why: you are always outspoken when it comes to your feelings. We come from similar situations, neither being able to get close enough to anyone to... feel that connection. I suddenly realized how vulnerable I was and panicked. But I did feel the same way, Anakin; I want you to know that. However, the words I said proved true. After you turned your back on me I went to my suite and wept for hours. In my misery I resolved to tell you the truth. I came to your room before my logical brain could change my heart. I heard your nightmare through the door and rushed in. You did not wake. You cried out for your mother, and for me. I was too scared to disturb you so I whispered into your ear an ancient Naboo saying in the sacred language:

Sleep my beloved. The light will soon awaken thee.

I thought perhaps these unfamiliar feelings would vanish as we traveled to Tatooine, but it was too late for me. I was foolish, I should have known better. I was too afraid to tell you. I nearly did the night you came back... with your mother. I was miserable while you were gone. Beru tried to comfort me, she is a wonderful woman. But there was nothing for it. I thought you were going to die, and that tore me up inside. I felt the death of your mother keenly, I'm so sorry Anakin, nothing can ever express how sorry I am. It hurt me because it hurt you. I was not used to that kind of emotional connection with anyone except my own family. And my family... they really like you and they are desperate for me to be happy. My mother and sister knew- knew before I did. You will always be welcome in our home. While you were gone, the Lars' tried to make me feel welcome in their home. They are wonderful people, I'm sure she was happy with them. Beru was like a sister to me in those long hours. I wept for you and for myself. For as long as I can remember I have been a target of assassination, but I have never been so frightened in my life. You could have died and I would never be able to tell you... When you returned safely there was nothing in the galaxy I wanted to do more than to throw my arms around you and never let go. Thinking back on it now, I'm sure you could feel it through the Force. But the second I saw the look on your face I knew something terrible had happened to Shmi. I felt... intensity... radiating from you. It broke my heart. But gods how I wanted to protect you. When you told me what happened in the Tusken village I was horrified, it went against everything I believed in. But all I could see was you in pain. The grief in your heart and the regret on your face was everything to me. I am completely sympathetic to what you went through Anakin, believe that, but it wasn't right. You need to tell the Council, I hope that you have already. It is the right thing to do. And it makes me realize just why we cannot go on like this.

After we left Tatooine things happened so quickly. I realized now that I should not have forced you to leave against Master Windu's orders. I will speak to him about it should an inquiry arise. We survived the factory only to be captured and sent to Count Dooku. I knew he was behind it from the beginning even though the Jedi did not believe me. Just because he is a former Jedi does not mean he isn't capable of terrible acts of violence and deceit. But however it happened we found ourselves ready to be executed. It was the first time I really had the chance to confess, and it may have been the last. The words just spilled from my lips, and it was exactly what you wanted to hear. But we did not die that day. We were tested again as I fell from the transport ship and you battled Dooku. Somehow I knew where you were and told a clonetrooper to take me. I don't know how, Obi-Wan would say I could feel you through the Force. But it was too late by the time we reached you. I saw you lying on the ground and thought you were dead. I ran, without caring that Masters Obi-Wan and Yoda were watching. You were not dead Ani, but neither were you whole. Count Dooku robbed you of not just your arm, but your pride. I know you well enough to see that.

They took you away immediately. I was not able to visit you until a few days ago. It was hard to see you, so strong and fearless, lying unconscious in that narrow cot. Could you tell I was there? Barriss Offee was in charge of reinforcing your healing trance, metal fusing with skin and bone. She said you might be able to feel my thoughts through the Force. When she told me, I suddenly became conscious of the little feelings in the back of my mind, the ones I had pushed back during our time together. They were doubt, and fear. I left, not wanting to impede your progress with negativity. The more I thought about it, the more I came to believe what I already knew. My words on Naboo were true.

This secret will destroy our lives.

It just is not possible. I'm a high-profile Senator. You are a Jedi, Anakin. It is what you have chosen for yourself. I know your history. The Jedi mean too much to you, and you mean too much to them. I cannot come between that. The Jedi are forbidden to love, I would be a party to violating one of your core mandates. And you must realize that what we had is trivial compared to your life's work. Neither can this be turned into some meaningless fling, because it would be far from meaningless. That would truly destroy us, no matter how I may long for you. The most logical choice is to end it now Anakin. I am so sorry, but it's the only way. I will always consider you a cherished friend.

Please accept my answer and my apology.

Padmé

The thick paper crumpled in his good hand. For several moments there was no thought, there was nothing. His simple room had vanished, as had the Jedi Temple and all of Coruscant itself. Anakin was utterly alone. Then sensation rushed in. The Force was like an army of insects on his skin, in his soul, pricking his heart and bleeding it, whispering her cruel words and turning them into reality. No. It couldn't be true; this had to be some elaborate joke. He wanted to run to the dock that held her ship, but found he couldn't move. He started at the letter until the writing became blurry and unintelligible. Tears were welling up, threatening to spill. He thought he might drown in them. Numbly he wondered how he deserved this.

"We can't do this."

We can't do this? We both know it?

Anakin had seen the words but he could not understand their meaning. How could he? How could she? How could she say such things?

There was a dull pain in his left hand. He opened his palm and the expensive parchment, now blood-stained and soggy, fell out. His fingernails had cut into the skin. Anakin blinked twice slowly, trying to see if the blood was real or a figment of his imagination. It was real. He stared at the wound for several moments, wishing the pain was more intense. It had the effect of bringing his mind slowly back to the present. Roughly, he wiped his palm on his tunic, leaving a visible stain. Obi-Wan would not be pleased.

But what did Obi-Wan matter now? What did anything? Padmé was his. She was his. They belonged together. Anakin had known that since first laying eyes on her ten years ago. Why didn't she see that?

The failures of the last few weeks threatened to press the air completely out of his chest: Tatooine… Geonosis… the loss of his mother… the loss of his arm. Anakin tried to channel his frustration to the invading metallic limb. He punched the ground with it, the vibration bringing back the pain Barriss tried to alleviate. No wonder Padmé changed her mind; he wasn't even a good Jedi, let alone a proper suitor.

If only I hadn't charged Dooku. If only I could have made Obi-Wan land for Padmé. If only she hadn't talked me into going to Geonosis.

But he could not blame her; it was his failure, not hers. The frustration Anakin felt was now suffocating him.

I will not fail again!

Several tools that had been lying on his desk suddenly lifted off and flew at the wall. With a crash they smashed into it and fell to the floor. Anakin turned blank eyes toward the noise, hardly registering what he had done. Gradually, he was accepting the anger welling up inside him.

She loves me. She will not get away so easily.

He was still on the floor, slumped against the doorway when he gradually fell into an exhausted sleep, oblivious to the tears streaming down his face.