Padme spent the next week in something of a daze as she settled back into her old room in The Coruscant hotel. Everything was exactly how she left it the day she went to The Empire. The small double bed perfectly made with the pale-blue blanket she'd spread over the bottom for decoration, the black leather armchair in the corner, the dusty mirror on the wall. Nothing had changed.
Once, coming back here had been the only thing she wanted in the world… Funny how things changed over time. Somewhere along the way, she'd gotten so used to The Empire, to the suite, to the Imperials and to Anakin that finally returning to her old home, her first home in the new world just didn't feel real.
Of course, she was ecstatic to see her friends again. Happy to be free, fully free for the first time since she joined the Imperials because despite how he loved her, Anakin's fierce protection meant she was never free. He acted for her, made decisions he thought benefitted her. Even if she'd wanted it, that had been a constant strain in their relationship, the kind that never went away.
Now Padme would face the world without Anakin as her shield.
Because he let her go…
Admitting that still broke her heart.
Sometimes she felt cheated by the Imperial leader. Played with. Used. He made her follow him to The Empire, he showed her pieces of his tortured soul, sweet and tender pieces, that could breed nothing but affection, he bore the brunt of this world to protect her conscience and he took her unprepared, inexperienced heart into his blood-stained hands and made it devoted to him. And now he'd thrown her – and it – away without warning or a true explanation.
He just sent Kit out to lead her away. Banned her from the Imperial territories she'd come to love so much.
None of it felt like freedom. How could it when her heart had become caged?
Every day, the pull to run back to the hotel and face him tugged at her, calling her anger and heartbreak to rebel but the danger in the streets grew by the day. She risked dying just to make the trip. And honestly, Padme was wounded. Maybe this was his – cowardly – way of telling her he just didn't really love her? That he had been wrong about his feelings all along? That her refusal to tell him her feelings turned his heart to ice.
Maybe Aphra had been right all along… Maybe he had enjoyed the thrill of the chase and once he had her long enough, the excitement died. Anakin was easily bored, after all.
No… Despite her hurt, Padme had trouble believing that… But it was difficult to have faith in someone she never quite trusted to begin with.
The devastating blow of Rex's death changed Anakin. It had hurt him worse than either of them had ever expected. It was only after that cataclysmic agony that he closed his heart to her and threw her out of the hotel. Maybe he simply couldn't afford to care anymore? He'd done this to spare himself further pain.
Every single possibility she could craft, every explanation behind his reasoning crossed Padme's mind over that week.
She returned the gun Rex found to Bail who was overjoyed to see it again. It had been a gift from his father in law, he said, he hadn't cared for it at the time but now it was the only link to his beloved wife.
He told her how the Rebels had to close their doors to strays after supplies began to dwindle. They'd lost people to the growing number of beasts on the street, more competition meant they were getting more ferocious, more violent. Bail had barely escaped the jaws of death more than once since she'd left. Even Ahsoka seemed to have vanished. The girl hadn't shown up in either hotel in quite some time.
Neither of them said it but the possibility of the girl's weighed heavily on both their minds.
Padme settled back into her old home with the strangest weight in her heart. Something was off… Like a misshapen puzzle piece being wedged into the wrong space. Deep down, she already knew the issue nobody wanted to admit. She stopped belonging with the Rebels a long time ago. In her heart she had become Imperial. To some around here, it was the highest offence one could commit.
Who could blame them after what Anakin had done to them?
Rush, at least, was glad to have her back and he made sure to show it. He was so caring and kind despite everything. They were alike, she'd always thought so, quick-minded and ambitious, Padme thought they would have been good friends in the old world. He'd been a banker, Padme wanted to be a lawyer… What a dreaded pair they would have been.
He was the first person she talked to properly. No one else promised no judgement about her relationship, to her Rebel friends Anakin was the cruel Imperial leader, he was the man whose people picked fights with Rebels for fun. He was the devil who pulled a beast behind him on a leash. He was the one who set that beast on them without mercy. How could they listen to Padme mourn the relationship they shared?
One evening, Padme sat by the small, cracked window overlooking the meagre garden the hotel boasted – even meagre was polite for the scrappy, patchy grass that grew out there – and looked over the photograph of Rex and his brother with a painful ache in her heart. It was nice to have something to remember her friend by, not everybody got that.
She wished, the thought bruised her pained heart further, that she had something of Anakin's to keep. To mourn. She had nothing except the Beatles t-shirt she'd stolen from him a long while ago, it was more hers than his now. The scent of him no longer clung to the soft fabric. It lay hidden beneath the pitiful layer of her own clothing in the drawer now. It hurt to look at.
Clovis found her, a bottle of fiery whiskey clasped in his palm, making his way to his room to indulge in peace. "Hey…" he smiled warmly, "I found this beauty while supply hunting with Dorme and Sabe – can you believe it? This would have cost easily six-hundred bucks back in the day - now I just get to take it!"
Somehow, Padme found the will to smile for him. Small victories like that were what fanned the flame of people's hope now. Something to look forward to, even if it was only a drink.
She missed Rex and Kit with a stinging pain in her chest.
"That'll be nice. Have fun." She refolded Rex's picture and tucked it away into her pocket before Rush could ask what it was. The loss of her favourite New Zealander was still too raw to discuss with anyone else around here.
"Padme…" Rush's smooth voice murmured her name as he sat down beside her, his red sweater scratching at her arm as they touched. "I want you to know… If you need someone to talk to about what happened… with Skywalker… then I'm here."
Rush hated Anakin, he never made the fact secret even before Padme became an Imperial but he was willing to set his feelings aside to listen, to understand... he was wonderful like that. She exhaled, felt the burn of tears as they filled her eyes. It hurt so much and yet this past week she felt so… disconnected from everything.
It felt like one day, she would wake up in her bed in The Empire securely wrapped up in the warmth of Anakin's arms as if this were just a terrible dream she could shake off and forget. Did that make her a fool?
"I don't understand why you want to know?" She wiped at her eyes as discreetly as she could manage. Rush respected her desire for momentary privacy, keeping his bright green eyes trained on the empty corridor ahead. "You hate him."
"I do," he admitted, tapping his long fingers on the bottle in his hands, "but you're… You've been different since you returned from that place. I'm worried about you and know the reason you're hurting is because of that bastard."
Padme couldn't bring herself to look at her friend. To her, 'that bastard' was Anakin, her Ani… She looked at her boots instead, unwilling to reveal all that right now. "It's difficult to explain."
"Take your time," his words were intoxicatingly coaxing. "It's not like there is anywhere else I need - or would want - to be."
"It's…" How did she put their relationship into words? How could anyone else hope to understand what they had? "I know what everybody thinks… That he's a monster, that he's evil but he isn't, not really. Yes, he's done terrible, terrible things, I know that… But deep down, there's good in him!" She found the strength to meet Rush's concerned eyes, "I know there's good in him, I've seen it."
The former banker sighed long and heavy before unscrewing the lid of the vibrant, amber liquid and taking a deep gulp, grunting as it burned the tender flesh of his throat. "I had a feeling you might say something like that," he shook his head, offering the opened bottle to Padme. She tended to stick to wine – especially with her mock connoisseur, Kit…
The memory had the young woman bringing the expensive whiskey to her lips and swallowing greedily. She coughed immediately, gagging at the powerful taste and held her throat. How did people drink this stuff?
"You were with him," the words seemed to leave his lips unwillingly, "I could tell he had feelings for you that day." Padme's heart ached so painfully that she didn't trust herself to speak. Her silence was all the answer Rush needed. "It was mutual?"
"Yes, of course, it was."
"Oh, Padme…" His tone wasn't reproachfully disappointed as Obi-wan's could be nor it was it full of angry judgement as Mon's hard stare was but it still hurt her to her very core. The sad resignation wrapped within those two regretful words encouraged her to take another swig at the whiskey.
Ever since she came back Padme could tell her friends were waiting, even if they'd never admit it, for her apology, for her to regret what happened between her and Anakin. Every day without it corroded their already wilting affection she held in their hearts. Mon barely looked her way. Obi-wan was quiet and withdrawn around her, sometimes she caught him in a glance her way, quietly seething. Bail, as sweet as he was, hesitated to tell her things now. It hurt. She understood but it pained her to see how far they'd drifted from one another.
Only Dorme, Sabe and Rush treated her as if nothing had happened.
"I know you hate him. I'd never ask you not to…" She muttered glumly, taking another burning gulp of Rush's whiskey. It numbed her nerves, calming the intense pain she had been living with all week. That was good. Very good.
"Yes, you were right before… I do think that he's a monster. Nothing will change that."
Padme sighed and handed Rush the bottle, watching as he took a deep swig as if it were water on a hot day. He was trying to be nice by listening to her woes about a man he hated. Anakin hurt him and their friends multiple times, how could she blame him for refusing to see what she saw… Still, she wished people knew how fiercely he protected what he loved, how loyal he was to those special few deemed to be his people... would it even change their minds? "Don't be sorry," she murmured, "I don't expect anyone here to understand. Not after what he did. It's just… I can't explain it."
"I know," Padme looked up at Rush as he handed her the whiskey for another swig. The strong alcohol had already begun to cloud her mind, she could see why people used to pay so much for it back then. Instead of understanding in her friend's eyes, she only found ghosts. "I… I never thought I would tell this story again…" He closed his eyes for a moment, bracing himself for whatever trauma he was about to share. "I used to be an Imperial too."
"What?" Padme cried, sitting straighter. Rush was an Imperial? Rush? But – but Anakin had never talked about that before! Surely, he would have told her – one of them would have told her… Right? "How – how is that even possible?"
"Well, the world hadn't been like this very long. The military had just withdrawn and people were flocking to gangs like the Rebels and Imperials for survival instead. Someone from Skywalker's crew recognised me, well, they recognised who I was to my father. You might remember him, Sheev Palpatine. He was high up in the government for a long time – actually, he was making preparations to announce a Presidential campaign when hell broke loose. Anyway, he owned a real estate company on the side – I think my mother worked there before they were married. He wanted me to go to law school, take over the company and then one day follow his path into politics. I didn't want that. Or him. I took my mother's maiden name, Clovis, and became a banker."
"What happened?"
Rush smiled a sad, bitter smile. He grew distant, caught up in the upsetting memories he carried so secretly until now. After a moment, he took a deep, shaking breath and glanced out the window, eyes drifting from cloud to cloud as he battled for composure. "My mother left us – that's what my father always said. There was another man she wanted, another life she enjoyed better than being a part of our family. Honestly? I don't even blame her. My father is an evil person, Padme… Truly… No one and nothing was more important to him than power and control. He would have been a dictator more than a President if he'd had a chance."
"Oh Rush," Padme took his hand into hers, "I'm so sorry. None of that could have been easy on you."
"It wasn't. When the monsters took over, I was already an established banker, I had my own job, my own life but he still tried to take control. When the creatures came, I saw an opportunity… I ran. Disappeared into the chaos and tasted freedom for the first time in my life."
"That's when the Imperials found you?"
"No," Rush shook his head, "Obi-wan did." She frowned, more than slightly confused but bit back her questions for now. "He took me in – this was before there were Rebels to speak of. We were just a small group of people huddling in the hotel for shelter then. I thought he was being kind and helping a fellow human but I was wrong. He'd been looking for me a for a long time."
"Obi-wan was looking for you? Why?" The question slipped out before Padme could stop it. Her brain throbbed in bewilderment at the twists and turns Rush's life had taken him in. Her life had been blissfully uncomplicated by comparison.
"My mother… She didn't talk to her family for a long time after I was born. I don't know why, I was too young to notice then, of course. But she had a sister. What I didn't know was that sister, my aunt, had been trying to contact me and build a relationship between us for a long time before the creatures came but my father kept her away. Her name was Satine… I never got to meet her. She died in the early days like most people. Turns out, she was married to Obi-wan. He recognised me from the pictures she managed to gather across the years, that's why he took me in."
"Oh…" The young woman's eyes bulged in surprise. Her mouth opened and closed again twice. Rush and Obi-wan were related? Uncle and Nephew through marriage. Why hadn't anyone ever told her? Neither man seemed to feel particularly close to one another, understandable since Obi-wan's wife and Rush's aunt passed away before they could meet, she supposed. Still, Padme would never, ever, have paired the two as family however strained the relation. She saw the remnants of hurt and regret on his face, the painful imaginings of what if… She knew those ghosts all too well. She squeezed her hand in his, offering a sympathetic smile when he looked at her. The gentle touch drew a soft, fond smile from him before he gulped at his whisky again.
"I was stupid and naive then. Family was… The very idea was tainted for me by my father. If what he'd shown me was family, I wanted no part of it even from Obi-wan, so I ran. Again. That's when I found the Imperials and Skywalker. I got in with them quite quickly. It was fine at first. I liked it. They were good at survival and there was always some sort of fun to be had despite being so lost. And then…" He shook his head and drank again.
Padme took the bottle when he offered it, sipping much more lightly. "And then?"
Rush avoided her eye. The sadness in his expression morphed into anger so slowly, it was unnoticeable until the storm of fury darkened his gaze as he stared at the hallway ahead. "Then Skywalker found out who my father was."
She had questions, so many she didn't dare begin to ask. Dread and resignation warred within her. Of course, he did something. Of course, it was Anakin who did something terrible, who else?
"Do you remember the Palpatine Housing estates?" He asked.
The name pulled at something deep within her memories… It was familiar, so familiar… She had definitely known what that name meant once. Then, a moment later, recognition flooded her senses. The commercials! Yes! Padme remembered those commercials, they'd been on every TV channel, very public bench and bus station in the city when the monsters were still under control but beginning to cause trouble for the military. She remembered the old man in a deep red suit's smiling face, promising his secure estates of safe houses were the only way to keep the creatures out. They were incredibly expensive. She remembered the public outrage about it now. Prices starting at millions of dollars meant most people could never hope to have one. An obvious attempt to profit from a frightening situation. Yes… They'd talked about it in her morality classes! There had been wide public outcry against such profiteering – people had been horrified at the idea of saving the rich while the poor were left to fend for themselves.
Eventually, even those houses were taken too.
Padme nodded sadly and squeezing Rush's hand when he drank again. "I can see why you said your father isn't a good person. I'm so sorry."
How painful it had to be for him to remember such a cold, calculating person as his father. A person who actively worked to profit on the ruin of countless lives wasn't someone who had room for love in their heart. Thinking of her own father, of sweet, gentle Ruwee who'd loved Padme and Sola with everything he had, brought a great sense of pain and comfort to her. For Rush, she doubted that he had memories of kissing away childish tears when someone fell over… Of reading stories at bedtime, of learning how to ride bikes, of advice, support, love… Poor, poor Rush…
"Yeah," his tone was biting, "When Anakin found out, he tried to use it – to use me – to get something from my father. He never told me what exactly, though I'd bet it was for one of the safe houses. They were still popular then. He told my father if he didn't get what he wanted… That'd he'd… That he would feed me to the beasts himself."
Padme closed her eyes and drank. Deeply. That sounded like Anakin, alright… No wonder Rush hated him.
"What happened?" She asked softly, passing the glass bottle into Rush's free hand.
"I found out what was happening. There was nothing worse for me than ending up back in my father's control, so I did what I'd always done, I ran. I snuck out at night after everybody had gone to bed and I ran through the night to find somewhere safe. It didn't take long for the Imperials to find me though. Skywalker wasn't one of them but it was on his orders. They dragged me back to The Empire and locked me in my room for six days." He gave a short, mirthless laugh, "Apparently my father didn't play ball. Wouldn't bend to Skywalker's orders. It pissed him off. He came to my room and told me we would leave my life up to fate. That bitch of his and a few others took me to an abandoned factory building and locked me in there with his pet."
She gasped, so horrified that her stomach churned in disgust. How could he do something so terrible? It wasn't Rush's fault who he was born to! She just – she wished she could feel surprised. The fear and tension in Rush's eyes as he remembered that dark part of his life made her heart ache terribly for him. He'd been so through much and then Anakin… How could she have closed her eyes to everything he did in the name of power and survival? Because it was convenient, something hissed venomously inside her, because you wanted him to keep you safe.
"I got out – barely. The thing took a chunk out of my back as I ran but I kept my life. That's all that mattered." Somehow, a slight warmth returned to his smile when his eyes returned to Padme. "I went back to Obi-wan only to find he'd come to save me after someone told him what was happening – probably little Ahsoka. It was around that time she left The Empire. From there, I helped Obi-wan take other lost souls in. We saw the birth of the Rebels… Now here we are."
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"Look, I haven't told you about this to make you feel guilty Padme, please know that. None of what he's done is your fault. The reason I'm sharing my story with you is that… I want to know that… Look, I don't know who he is when he's with you but he's not a good person. He just isn't."
She held the whisky in trembling fingers and drank to hide the tears that stung in her eyes. The burn of strong alcohol was cleansing. "… I know," The truth pained her, pierced her whole being like the sharp edge of a dagger. She knew he chose to be a bad person and to hurt others for his own gain, Padme knew that and yet she still… There was good in him, she knew that too but he made the choice to banish it deep within himself where few would ever find it.
Rush squeezed her hand in his, pulling Padme from her thoughts. "I know what it is to care for someone you know you shouldn't. My father was a terrible person and yet when I let myself think about him… I find myself hoping he's alive out there. I love him and I hate him. It's a mess."
She sighed heavily and gave Rush what remained of the whisky. He squeezed her hand again, shifting his body closer to hers as he set the bottle aside. Exhaling heavily, Padme closed her eyes and let her head fall onto his broad shoulder, thankful that he'd taken the time to talk to her about all this. Not everyone here would have. He released her hand and wrapped an arm around her body, holding her close as the sadness that had taken her heart began to dissipate slightly.
It was nice not to feel alone.
The next day, Padme was drinking deeply from her third water bottle, nursing a slight headache from Rush's whisky, when Obi-wan, Dorme and Sabe burst into the hotel in single file, each more furious than the last. "Fucking Imperials," Sabe spat, "I mean, no offence, Padme." Behind her, Dorme rolled her eyes and fell down onto the creaky brown armchair by the reception desk.
"She's not an Imperial anymore so why would that offend her? Idiot."
"What's happened?" She asked Obi-wan, ignoring the twin's antics. The Rebel leader glowered at the ceiling as he tore off his beige coat and threw it down onto the table. Her heart pounded, almost leaping through her flesh to escape her chest at the thought of them seeing Imperials – who was there? Had something happened between them? He looked at her as if he knew exactly what thoughts were running through her head. Padme hated how disappointed he looked.
"They string a man up to die for so much as stepping into their territories but they come into ours and leave their mark outside stores we've claimed and expect no trouble. Bastards – all of them." He stormed furiously from the room, slamming the grey lobby door shut in his wake. Padme watched him leave, fingers twitching by her sides.
"Where did you see them?" She asked the twins, "Which area?"
"Why do you want to know?" Dorme narrowed her eyes, "Don't tell me you want to go out there and find them?"
"Not them," Sabe shook her head, "him."
"Oh Padme, why? He's hot and all but come on! Someone like that is not worth all this trouble!" The dark-haired twin sighed, "There are other men around, y'know. It wouldn't be that difficult to replace him if you really need one."
Truthfully, she barely heard a word either twin said. Her mind was miles away as she gathered up her old leather coat and tugged it on her body. If it disappointed everybody here, so be it, Padme had to find Anakin and speak to him. If she could just talk to him then everything would be alright. She would make him understand! Then, though it would undoubtedly take time, they would work on creating forgiveness between him and Obi-wan. They would all work together to get through this mess.
"Don't tell Obi-wan where I've gone!" She called over her shoulder to the twins as she dashed out of the hotel. Guns in their holsters and a knife securely in her belt, Padme took off in a run toward the most commonly used Rebel-Imperial boarder. That had to be where they were. It was where most of the little fights broke out between the rival patrols.
She ran her way through the streets of the Rebel territories until the looming blue spray-painted signs warned of Imperial corners. Places where Rebels weren't allowed. But it was different this time, Padme wasn't just a Rebel she was also an Imperial now. A woman of both camps. Now, she just had to figure out where the patrolling group might have –
"What do you think you're doing here?"
She recognised Aphra's voice right away and skidded to a stop. Her being here was not ideal… Padme turned to see the Anakin's second in command with a snarling grin stretched across her youthful face, a baseball bat with sharp nails hammered deep into the wood resting on her neck and shoulders over her tan jacket. Her blue jeans had torn at the knee, revealing a patch of milky skin through the denim. Kit and Maul stood by either side of the other woman in plain shirts – green and red respectively. They all looked casual now without their heavy coats. Like normal people on a normal spring day not masters of hunting and death.
The tattooed man's face was impassive, he looked at her as if they'd never met. As if she were just a Rebel intruder he was already bored of dealing with. Kit's eyes widened in alarm for a moment before softening into a soft smile.
"Whatcha doing here, Padme? I told you what he said…" He at least looked regretful about the circumstances and secretly happy to see her. The feeling was more than mutual, she'd missed spending time with him.
As Aphra's wicked grin grew, Padme missed Rex with a sudden terrible ache. He would never have let this happen.
"Where's Anakin," she asked, holding her head as high as she dared, "I need to speak to him."
The other woman rolled her eyes, "That's none of your business anymore, Princess. Now, toddle on back to Kenobi before you get hurt out here all on your own."
"Stop calling me that!" The shout passed her lips before she was even aware of her own irritation. She'd put up with that stupid, condescending nickname for far too long. "I have a name and you'll use it! Now, tell me where Anakin is, I want to see him."
Aphra gave a long, low whistle and then chuckled, looking between Maul and Kit for a partner in her twisted humour. Maul looked onwards in abject boredom. Kit glowered at her. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt if we – " The former med-student began but the archaeologist stepped closer to Padme without heeding his words.
"But maybe he wasn't want to see you." She pouted, "Maybe that big bed upstairs is being warmed by someone else now."
Padme tried to ignore the deep blow of Aphra's words. It was hard, almost impossible not to flinch or look away but she managed, from spite alone, she managed. It wasn't true, she told herself, he would never do that… He loved her. Yes, he was going through a difficult time right now but he loved her too much to do… That. They were going to fix things not destroy what they shared by throwing themselves into the arms of other people. Aphra was just trying to get at her.
"Just give him the message," she glared at her. "Tell him I want to speak to him. Understand?"
Aphra's dark eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "I can't make any promises, Princess. It's a long walk back to the hotel from here… Things are easily forgotten in that time."
Beside her, Kit offered Padme a soft, secretive smile and a friendly wink. Message received.
"Come on," Maul grunted, "This nonsense is petty and a waste of time. I want to get back inside before I end up like Rex."
"Get out of here," Aphra shooed Padme off, "I'll let you away with trespassing just this once for old times sake but if you're caught here again, I'll make sure you're tied up to that streetlight myself."
She hated it. Hated that she had to turn on that woman's command and walk away, away from her home, her life and her friends again. Of course, she was returning to her other home and her other friends and once that would have been enough. Now, as she looked over her shoulder at the retreating Imperials, Padme was felt more displaced and lost than she ever had.
Returning to the crumbling hotel, the young woman was utterly despondent. She'd run all the way through Rebel and Imperial territories, risking her life and for nothing! Less than nothing. At least Kit would pass along her message to Anakin. When he heard she wanted to speak to him, he would come find her. It would pull him out of the numbing hands of grief and he would see what a mistake this had all been. Padme sat down on the dusty, green armchair by The Coruscant's door and waited. He would come.
He had to.
One day passed without word or an appearance from the Imperial leader. Two days passed. Four days. Eight days. Two weeks. Three. Every passing day she didn't hear from Anakin chipped at her heart until she felt it begin to fragment. It was silly, she was a stupid fool to hurt over a man when the whole world had died but she couldn't help it. Living in The Empire had been a storm. Fear, anger, curiosity, happiness, fury, heartbreak and more happiness, they'd all been her companion at one point or another. Mostly, she had been happy – they had been happy!
It had given her hope. They made a life together in the darkness of this world all the way up in that suite and it had changed her. It had changed him. And now Padme felt lost. Aimless. She spent her days hiding from the world in her old room, counting the hours until she could sleep again and free her mind from the sourness of reality. A
Sometimes, a memory from years ago, blurred and hazy as it was, was the only comfort her wounded heart could accept.
She remembered it, being little and sad for Sola after her high school boyfriend had broken her heart. There had been a reason though Padme no longer recalled it. Her older sister spent weeks locked in her bedroom, wailing into her pillow, utterly inconsolable. Jobal had sat on the edge of Sola's bed, stroking her long, dark hair so softly, as though her sixteen-year-old daughter were still a precious infant in her arms and whispered sweet words of comfort until her quivering body began to calm. Padme had lingered by the door, curious child that she'd been, and listened.
"Hush now, my love," their mother had murmured lovingly, "today your heart breaks but tomorrow it heals. You will wake feeling stronger."
"I want it to stop," Sola wept, "It hurts so bad, mom."
"I know… But that is a good thing. The pain means that it was real and in love, there is pain to be found amongst the joy – one cannot be embraced without the other one, sweetheart. Yes, I know you feel as if the world has shattered around your ears but there will be other loves for you. Other heartbreaks. And eventually, you'll be glad for them. Every memory has a lesson if you're willing to listen, dear."
"I don't want a lesson, I just want to feel better!" Sola threw herself into Jobal's arms and sobbed as Padme watched on from the doorway unnoticed.
"Oh, my sweet girl… My poor sweet girl… You let that heart of yours heal at its own pace. I'll be here to hold you until it does."
As her mother's words replayed in her mind now, Padme began to lose herself into her heartbreak once more, laying in bed as mid-afternoon passed. Today, she didn't mourn Anakin or their relationship. Her heart longed for her mother. Her tender touch and compassionate words. Jobal would know exactly what to say to restore hope in her soul. Even if she didn't, the comfort of being held in her mother's arms would wash away any pain.
It wasn't until this moment that Padme truly came to understand that she would never know that feeling again.
She cried until the stars shone mournfully in the sky.
Obi-wan found her the next day, eyes swollen and red from her tears as she nursed a cereal breakfast bar. She knew that she had to look dreadful. She'd piled her thick, bushy curls into something which vaguely resembled a bun on top of her head, thrown on the shirt she'd stolen from Anakin and a pair of simple black leggings she used for sleeping in now. The Coruscant wasn't as well insulated as The Empire was.
The Rebel leader's face was blank as he stood at the opposite side of the table but there was compassion in his eyes that couldn't be masked. "I often recall my wife consoling her sister on the phone after she and the bastard she married fought… She always said, 'women like you shouldn't cry over men like that'. I believe that's true in this case."
Despite everything, Padme laughed slightly. "Women like me? What does that mean?"
"You're a smart woman. You're kind and giving… All the things he is not. Don't waste your tears on someone who isn't using theirs for you."
"What should I use my tears on then?" She unscrewed the plastic cap on her water bottle and brought it to her lips, the cool liquid washing away the last remnants of sleep from her mind.
Obi-wan's deep blue eyes blazed with an intensity Padme didn't quite understand. Was it his hatred of Anakin? A protectiveness over her? Or perhaps he was recalling the misfortune that made his sister-in-law leave her child behind to escape a man. "Don't," he said simply, "don't cry about anything. Tears do no one any good in this world."
She shook her head, "no, that's not true… Tears mean that despite it all, we're still human. They mean that those beasts haven't taken everything from us… We can still love and feel pain. Keeping that means to keep our hearts. I think that's important."
The Rebel leader said nothing in response. He took his water and left Padme be.
"Drink! Drink! Drink!" Sabe chanted as her sister sloppily gulped the clear – sickeningly strong – liquid from the vodka bottle the twins absconded from the kitchen while no one was around. Padme watched her friends in part horror, part amazement as Dorme fought through the vile taste to complete her sister's dare to take ten mouthfuls of the alcohol without throwing up.
In another life, Dorme, Sabe, Rex and Kit would have been great friends…
Already her world spun if she looked around too quickly, the playful warmth alcohol created crept through her belly and into her limps and Padme moved sloppily, cackling noisily at everything the twins said and did. They were so funny! How did she forget how funny they were?! Laying on her belly in the queen-sized bed Sabe had claimed a long time ago, the young woman happily accepted the vodka from Dorme's trembling hand as she recovered from her challenge with a gag of victory.
"See?!" The brunette hiccupped, "I told ya… I said I could do it and I did!"
"Yeah well, don-be commin' to my door in the morning when you wake up dying 'omorrow." Sabe spluttered, curled up happily on the green armchair Padme and Dorme had helped the blonde plunder from the hotel's small lobby area earlier today. It really did complete the room…
"Please," Padme giggled, bringing the glass rim of the bottle to her lips for a heavy gulp. It didn't even burn going down anymore! "Neither of you two can hold your booze – remember when Dorme got so drunk she tried to sleep with Rush?" She sniggered at the thought, "I mean come on!"
"I thought we agreed we would never speak of it!" Dorme hissed, "thank god Bail put me to bed before – "
"Before Rush did?" Padme snorted which sent the three young woman into hysterics anew.
"Hey – hey – hey…" Sabe threw her arms loosely into the air, barely holding back peels of deeply amused laughter as they tried to flee her lips, "It wouldn't be the end of the world… He's intense and handsoooome… Dormey could do worse!"
"I could do better," the dark-haired sister stole the vodka from Padme's hands with a bitter murmur, "I dated a model once, y'know!"
"Model – ha!" Sabe threw her head back so that her loose, blonde locks fell over her shoulder, her thick eyebrows knitting together in laughter, "Don't let her lie to you, Padme, baby. The guy got a few thousand Instagram likes one time – just once! All of a sudden he's a model, pfft!"
"But he was so hoot! Padme," Dorme implored her, "that's important, isn't it? Hotness." Somehow finding the coordination to roll up onto her knees from where she'd been lounging on the floor, Dorme grabbed her knees, peering gleefully up into her eyes as she waited for an answer.
"Uh-uh. No way," she shoved the woman off, "I am done with men! Do you hear me?" She pointed a shaking arm toward Sabe, "Done! They're just – they're the worst!"
"Hell yes!" Dorme whooped, "they suck!"
"Oh please," Sabe sipped at the vodka – there was only around a quarter left of the bottle by now. "You lurve him, Padme – you wanna have his babies and be his little Imperial Queeen… You're not over him." Vodka somehow sloshed over the glass rim of the bottle and down, down onto the creaky, wooden flooring in a small transparent puddle by the blonde's feet. Padme watched it happen, felt her world spin around her head, and then sat up to snatch the bottle.
"Nope," she took a long swing, "I am over him. Done. Finished. If he came to this door right here – this one?" The former Imperial staggered her way to Sabe's door, leaning heavily upon it when the floor seemed to shift beneath her feet unsteadily. "If he came here, you know what I'd do? Hmm? I'd slam it in his stupid, idiot face!"
"Yes!" Dorme roared, throwing her arm high above her head in support, "You're a strooong, independent woman! You don't need no man!"
"You two are so druuuuunk…" Sabe sniggered, "Imma tell Obi-wan…"
"You're drunk," Padme laughed, "I'm not drunk… No, I'm just ready!"
"Ready for what?" Dorme reached for the vodka but Padme brought it to her lips again. "Hey! Quit hogging the booze!"
"For a change!" She caught sight of herself in the small, circular mirror decorated by a delicate rim of gold hanging on Sabe's wall and nodded, fiercely determined in her decision. It was such a good idea! Why hadn't she thought of this before? All this time she'd been crying and upset about stupid Anakin and his stupid choices when this was all she needed! "Reinvention! Haven't – " she hiccupped the word, "haven't you seen all the movies where after the girl is dumped by an – an asshole, she has a makeover!"
"You wan' a makeover?" Dorme tipped her head. "Isss not so easy now we have no things, y'know
all-newo, ohmygod! Padme you are so smart!" Sabe flew from her chair to grasp her by the shoulders, "You'll be an all-new woman. Issa whole new start! New clothes, new hair, new Padme!"
"Uhh, hello? Where's she gettin' new clothes? Huh? There's like, nothing left out there and I already called dibs on anything nice anyway." Dorme rolled her eyes, falling backwards with a befuddled giggle. "ss' not like she'll be running to Skywalker anyway…. Probably never gon' see him again…"
"No, no, I don't need things," genuine excitement coursed through Padme's veins. For the first time Anakin kicked her out she felt happy about something. Yes, this was what she needed! It would be like New Years just for her. Her resolution? Make Anakin Skywalker eat it. "I just need a change… But what…?"
Suddenly, the weight of the thick braid of her hair laying on her shoulder caught Padme's attention. She stared at it. Considered it. There had never been a time in her life where her hair wasn't long… Her mother had loved braiding it, her father used to brush it out after baths… Anakin loved –
It had to go.
"New hair!" She cried, "I need new hair! Then everything will be alright again!"
"Yes!" Sabe cried, jumping up and down eagerly, "New do – new woman!"
"Do it! Do it! Do it!" Dorme chanted from the floor.
Slowly, Padme approached the mirror, watching the nearing of her reflection-self as she came closer and closer, ignoring the babbling suggestions of the twins behind her. Out of nowhere, her eyes filled with tears of abject sorrow and heartbreak. It would be nice… Cutting away the feelings Anakin still cast over her. Ending the connection she felt to him. Starting a new life all on her own… She would be stronger for it. Unbreakable. That was how it always went, wasn't it? In the movies.
With shaking hands, Padme unsheathed her blade and lifted the slight weight of the braid in her free hand. One cut, one swipe and she would be free. A whole new Padme Naberrie, ready to take on the world. A joyous, excited giggle slipped past her lips but the tears didn't fade. Nor did they spill. They were her companions as she brought the blade to her hair and cut.
It all came away so much faster than she'd anticipated. The severed braid flew from Padme's hand to land by her feet with a heavy thump. She looked at it, the long locks she'd been growing her whole life, crafting into styles to suit her mood and circumstances… It was all gone… Her eyes flicked upwards to meet the face of her mirror-self again. The hacked remnants of her hair fell – slightly slanted – just an inch or two below her shoulders, framing her round face more harshly without its length. She looked at it with a proud, defiant smile. She was her own woman now. Free.
And then, with one quiet sob, Padme's joy melted into utter devastation as her the reality of her actions began to sink in.
Her hands grasped the new ends of her curls in horror. "My hair…" She wept, breaking down into hysterical cries as the twins rushed to comfort her, exchanging an awkward wince over her shoulder.
"No, it's alright! Really, it looks good!" Sabe nodded, running the ends of her fingers through Padme's ravaged hair. "You have the perfect face to pull this off!"
"Yeah! It's just new – you're just getting used to it. Looks good – really good!"
"Short hair was really in when the world went to shit! You're right on trend!"
The tears poured down the young woman's cheeks as she took in the uneven cut in more detail. She leaned closer to the mirror, gasping for breath through the disastrous onslaught. "What have I done? Why did you let me do this?!" She wailed.
"Do you think we can just, like, tie it back on?" Dorme sniggered, "No one would notice..."
It was complete chance. An accident. The intervention of fate, really.
The supply gathering group were split up and spread out across the Rebel territories as a pack of giant, purple beasts with snarling snouts and knife-teeth overwhelmed them, the craving for blood pounding in their chests. Bail had given the order, screaming the words across cries of pain and death and the non-stop blast of guns aimed between shaking fingers. Padme had taken off, finding shelter behind the old, crumbling walls of an abandoned block of high-end clothing stores.
Glass still littered the streets from the early days, when the beasts had merely been an excuse for the early abandoners of civility to act out. Lootings of banks and expensive stores had gone on for weeks before the streets overrun with monsters hunting the rioters. All that had stopped pretty quickly afterwards. The sharp chips and shatterings crunched beneath Padme's black boots as she edged along the wall, panting, fear icing her blood and stiffening her limbs. Her fingers clenched tight around her gun, ready to fire bullets into the first creature she found.
There were so many of them lately! It was getting closer and closer to impossible to leave the hotel without risking being hunted. The Rebels had lost ten people since Padme came back. She wondered how the Imperials were holding up… They'd come right to the western edge of Rebel-Imperial boarders in their desperation to find something to take home. All week gatherers had come back empty-handed. The city was being wrung dry.
Something had to give before it was too late… She just didn't know what, exactly…
Something growled nearby and Padme pressed her back to the red brick of the building, holding her gun to her stomach and willing herself to calm down. The others couldn't be too far from here… All she had to do was run toward the hotel until she found someone. The black gun strapped into the holster on her thigh was fully loaded, that would buy her time to get back. Don't panic, you'll be fine.
Three gunshots silenced her thoughts. Who was it? One of hers? A stray Imperial? Someone was shooting down beasts, she heard their strangled death cries as the bullets shot through their thick, scaled flesh and into vital arteries in one agonising instant. Holding her gun tighter, Padme laid her free hand on the coarse brick and peeked around the corner onto the main road.
She couldn't see who the beasts were after – though between their legs she caught a glimpse of battered black boots – somewhere, something inside of her caught and tensed. But there was no time for her to dwell. Whoever it was, they needed her help! Three of the tallest beasts Padme ever saw surrounded the person, poised and ready to strike.
The Rebel ran around the corner on a breath of bravery she wasn't quite sure would last very long. Padme pulled out her gun and fired three single, well-aimed bullets into the purple heads of the beasts. Each gave a final shriek as it collapsed to the sidewalk, a mess of yellow blood and dark guts she couldn't bear to look at for too long. She tucked her gun back in as the last one died and looked at the person she saved.
Her heart caught in her throat when, in the middle of the carnage, Anakin turned to meet her startled gaze. He wore his usual black coat, tainted with blood and dirt since the last time she saw him. His fingers trembled around the handle of his blade, slick with blood, as he looked at her from across the street. Those eyes of his were wide, wild, and despite everything, Padme wanted more than anything in the world to run across the road that separated them and throw her arms around him again. From the distance between them, she tried to read what he felt in his gaze but found nothing but turmoil.
As usual, Anakin had so many thoughts and emotions swirling and blooming deep within his heart that it all boiled down to one confusing but irresistible wreckage which ruled his mind. Chaos. Utter, uncontrollable, chaos.
Would more beasts come? Were they already on their way? How far away were her friends – where they looking for her? All such thoughts fled Padme's mind as Anakin crossed the street toward her in several long strides, eyes blazing.
He crossed the space between them fast, practically throwing his body into her all too eager arms the moment they were close enough to allow it. When his lips found hers, the kiss was brutal. Angry. Desperate. Fuelled by a mutual, urgent and primal need to reclaim one another. Padme moaned into Anakin's mouth, tasting him on her lips for the first time in so long. How she'd missed it! Missed him! He tasted like blood, like violence, like life…
His hands were everywhere at once, holding her, taking her again and it was everything she'd been wanting since their fight. How had she ever gone a day without this? She needed it. Needed Anakin in her life every day she got to be alive!
When they drew back for breath, he ran his fingers through Padme's cropped hair, eyes watching the movement so intensely she wondered if he was burning it into his memory forever. "What happened?" He murmured, holding her body to his with his free arm.
She clasped his coat in her closed fists and breathed him in… It wasn't a dream. He was here. They found each other… With the overwhelming mayhem that was her emotions, Padme somehow found the ability to laugh again. It was light and breathless and more than a little embarrassed at the uneven haircut she'd given herself. "It was stupid… Dorme and Sabe got me drunk…"
Had she ever felt a high like this? An amazing, astounding sense of joy that seemed to never end… All at once happiness unlike she'd ever known devastated the unprepared woman because they were together again. All that heartbreak and sorrow had been worth suffering through if it meant she and Anakin could find each other again. She looked up to him and stroked the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "I've been so worried about you!" She said. "Things have gotten so bad lately that – "
"What things?" He held her tighter, "What's going on?"
"Haven't you seen it? There are more beasts around than ever! And they've gotten bigger too – we've been completely overwhelmed… I've been afraid that you – "
"That I what?" Anakin caught her wrists in his palm and roughly tugged away her touch. "Couldn't protect myself? Couldn't protect my people? That's not for you to worry about anymore." Without warning, he pushed Padme backwards and away from his body making her stumble on a step or two. She felt a sense of crippling loss as soon as he was beyond her reach. She saw the anger take his eyes again.
"What? No! Of course not, I was just – "
He turned his back to her and though she saw his shoulders tremble slightly, when Anakin faced her again a moment later, his eyes were as cold and distant as the day he threw her out of his Empire. It was like an icy claw had taken a hold over his heart before her eyes. "What?" He narrowed his eyes, "you were just what? Tell me."
Reeling from the abrupt change in him, Padme struggled to find her words. What the hell just happened? "Don't do this…" She said, "Don't shut me out again, Anakin, please…"
A spark of fury found light inside his eyes and coloured them in its name. "Are you about to cry, Naberrie? Really?"
She hated that he was right. Hated how quickly her heart turned to ash again. "Why are you doing this?" She sniffled, "Ani please," the young woman dared to touch him again, clutching his coat in her palm, "don't do this… I know you're afraid after losing Rex but you don't have to be! People die every single day, more than I can count! However long I have left, I want to spend it with you and I know you feel the same way. I know you love me!"
"What makes you think that's true?" He glowered down at her, tearing himself beyond her reach again.
"You told me and I know you meant it! Is all this because I got hurt? Because of Rex? Talk to me about it, please…"
Ghosts flew through Anakin's gaze at the mention of his dead friend. She saw the heavy grief he carried, the heartache at losing both her and Rex so closely together for only a moment before he closed himself off again. He shrugged as if he felt nothing and crossed his arms. "Fine. Let's talk. The truth is I didn't put you out of the Empire because Rex died or because you got hurt. Truth is I got bored so I gave you back to Kenobi. That's what you wanted, isn't it? So go back to your Rebel friends. There's no place for you in the Empire."
Padme's lips tried to form his name into a word but the sound died inside her throat. His venomous words knocked the wind out of her lungs, the hope from her soul… She was muted, stuttering in aghast shock. All this time… he had never talked to her like that before. It was outright cruelty. Beyond the staggering hurt, she felt torn… she wanted to refuse to believe him, to yell at him for trying to push her away with such malice but there has always been a part of Anakin she never trusted.
He used people… why would she be any different?
That didn't mean his words weren't slashing into the roots of her soul like a dull knife. They devasted her more thoroughly than Padme had ever thought possible.
"I… I don't believe you!" Her voice trembled weakly even as she tried to sound strong, "I can't…" She shook her head once, twice, trying to comprehend how everything had turned upside down so rapidly. "We – we…"
"We what?" He hissed, "We used to fuck?" The words were harsh and hit her as brutally as if he'd just smacked her across the cheek with all his strength. "That's nothing."
"Do you really think that I can't tell you're being cruel on purpose?" Padme cried, her anger sputtering to life as Anakin glared at her. "You're not as good of a liar as you think you are, Anakin! I can see right through you."
"And you're not as good in bed as you think you are. You were disappointing. Aphra is better."
Padme's eyes widened and she gasped helplessly at the blow. How could he? How could he? Despite her outrage, tears formed in her eyes again, her lip trembled but she held her head high. He was lying… He was just saying all this to hurt her…
"Maybe that big bed upstairs is being warmed by someone else now…"
Aphra's words from their meeting replayed themselves before Padme's eyes, twisting the knife of confirmation deeper in the wound Anakin gave her. She closed her eyes and almost laughed. Of course… of course, it happened… She would be a deluded fool to try and deny it – they'd both admitted it! She thought of Anakin with Aphra, his lips on hers, on her body, his hands everywhere they'd once been on Padme's…
She wanted to be sick. Her knees shook beneath her own weight.
"Fine," she nodded, feeling the warm touch of tears as they trailed her cheeks, "fine… Be with her – you're free to do what you want but don't delude yourself into believing we had nothing… You and I both know it's not true."
He began to pace a small, furious line before her, angry and snarling just like the beast whose attack started all of this. He threw a hateful scowl her way as she spoke. "Don't pretend to know what I'm thinking, Padme, because you don't!"
"You're right!" She trembled as she spoke, shaking her head at him, "I don't know you anymore…" A muted sob escaped her mouth before Padme could stop it. There was no helping it. She was utterly crushed, the complete loss of her hope was too much… Her relationship dying before her eyes was too painful to take. "Why are you doing this? Anakin," her face began to crumble, "You're breaking my heart… Stop! Stop this now and come back… Ani, I love you!"
She should have said it a long time ago. She should have told him when he opened his heart to her… It had just been too frightening to open herself to him completely, she'd been a coward. Now her confession fell into the air between them, hopeless and desperate and nothing like it should have been.
A myriad of emotions crossed his face. Surprise, anger, disbelief… Anakin's eyes darkened as crippling longing began to seep from the well of raging indifference he'd thrown his heart into. A moment later, he couldn't meet her eye, glowering down at his boots as he shook his head. Finally, finally, his gaze lifted to return to hers but it was blank and empty, void of anything that had made him her Ani. "That's your mistake."
Somewhere nearby, a small thunder of running footsteps pounded against the sidewalk, growing closer and louder as voices bleated and talked over one another from Anakin's side of the street. Imperials. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, as if wary of their upcoming audience.
"Go back to your Rebels… You aren't wanted here." He said heavily, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He looked worn out. Like he had been running on fumes for so long and the weariness was beginning to catch up to him. She saw how that looked on Obi-wan these days. Perhaps both leaders had more in common than they thought.
"Then kill me," she spat, drawing Anakin's attention back, "You just said I'm a Rebel. You said that anyone non-Imperial found in your territories had to die… If you don't care then why let me leave? I'm your enemy am I not? I'm alone and trapped here. I know things about you I could easily tell Obi-wan like the breeding and the music... So why haven't you had me tied to a streetlight and left me bleeding for the beasts to come? Hmm?"
He clenched his jaw and stared deeply into Padme's wildly defiant eyes. Liar! She wanted to scream it into his face. You're a liar! She kept one hand on her gun, ready to defend herself even if she didn't quite believe Anakin would ever hurt her – not physically at least. But there were a lot of different kinds of hurt.
In an instant, faster than she could blink, the Imperial leader pushed her body backwards against the brick wall of the store, hard, and held the sharp edge of his blade against her throat. Her eyes widened but the shock didn't weaken her. Padme didn't hesitate, pulling her gun free from its holster and pressing the cold barrel to Anakin's head. The former lovers held each other dangerously.
Something fluttered on Anakin's mouth, something so akin to a smirk that it reminded her of that day, so long ago now, when he and his cronies had found her and Bail in that old grocery store. Their first reunion. So much had changed since then it was hard to believe they were those same people. She wondered if that was on his mind too.
"You're starting a dangerous game…" Anakin murmured quietly, "do you want to die out here?"
"I don't want to die," she whispered, "and I know I'm not going to."
"How can you be so sure? Hm? You're a Rebel. One who keeps breaking the rules… I've killed some for less."
She held her chin high, staring Anakin down as bravely as she could manage. Now there were no tears. No sadness. Just cold resignation between them. It was over. Padme saw that now. They were over. Whatever lies he said, whatever reasons he had to push her away didn't matter anymore. That thought threatened to cripple her all over again. He didn't want her anymore. He fucked Aphra.
I hate you, she thought mournfully to herself, even though those three words couldn't be further from the truth. I wish I could hate you. I wish I didn't love you. I wish we never met.
"Because you promised me I was going to live," she whispered without breaking their gaze.
At that, Anakin's expression shifted – any hint of his smile died away only to be replaced by something darker, sadder and perhaps even haunted. He looked at Padme as the Imperial voices grew louder and closer. They had to be right around the corner by now. Moments away. His hand loosened its grip on the blade he held to her flesh. He looked down to it, horror overtaking his face as if finally understanding the position he'd thrown them into.
Anakin threw himself backwards, dropping the blaze to the dusty sidewalk with a clatter and shook his head. "Get out of here," were the only words which passed his lips, tainted by a numbness she only caught a glimpse of as it began to overtake him.
He vanished around the corner without turning back. In a blink, like a ghost or a demon, he was gone. The abandoned blade the only hint he'd been here at all. Padme glared down at the weapon, his favourite knife, and kicked it as hard and far from her as she could. It rolled and hurtled, landing right by an abandoned yellow cab's flat tire.
She looked at it for a moment before stumbling back to her friends and hotel, telling them nothing of what just happened even when Bail asked where she'd been. Once back inside The Coruscant, she retreated to her bedroom in devastated silence.
It was over.