A/N: Some trigger content near the middle of the chapter that some may want to avoid. It's only a few paragraphs though. You'll know when you get there.

Chapter Sixteen

I don't know whether to be grateful to Bail Organa for motivating me and Anakin towards new life goals or aggravated that he's provided us with plausible excuses to continue avoiding one another.

Predictably, Anakin was intrigued with Bail's idea for him to head a new law enforcement division that would not only hold citizens who threatened the Galaxy's peace accountable for their actions, but also dishonest politicians. He especially liked that the new division would relieve the Jedi of the primary burden of policing the Galaxy so that more time could be spent remaking the Order into what it needed to be. He wasn't quite as enthused by the prospect of having his typical methods for justice constrained by the laws he was tasked to enforced, but he had grown enough in the past year to recognize and appreciate his need for moral boundaries.

I'm proud of him and how far he has come. Unfortunately, he and I have been so busy lately that I haven't had a real opportunity to tell him that. We've both become deeply engrossed in our individual projects, from overseeing the construction of new facilities to developing rigorous training regimens to devising various lesson plans for education curriculum, that it has been easy to ignore how we're slowly becoming polite acquaintances to one another as opposed to a married couple. While that existence has been primarily free from conflict and strife, it isn't at all what I want for us.

We have officially been back on Tatooine for nearly six weeks now, though much of that time has been spent off world either on Coruscant or other core worlds. To our surprise, Cliegg kept his promise about building us a small addition on the moisture farm. It is a very modest space, just one, large dome divided into two separate rooms. Near the front of the quarters is a small living area, a tiny kitchenette and eating area. A cramped bedroom is located at the very rear of the structure with an attached fresher. Of course, now my father-in-law is lamenting that we'll need even more space with a new baby, but I insist that he shouldn't trouble himself as Anakin and I have barely spent any time in the new space as it is.

Despite the two of us traveling in similar circles with similar goals, Anakin and I rarely find ourselves in the same place at the same time for more than a few days. There have been multiple occasions when I've arrived on Coruscant for business having missed Anakin's departure from the planet by literal hours. We comm each other frequently enough, updating one another on our respective schedules and plans, but our conversations don't seem to hold any real substance. We manage to avoid the deeper, more important discussions. The talking but not talking arrangement we have is making me miserable, but Anakin seems so unaffected that I am beginning to wonder if he prefers it that way.

True to this word, Anakin has been supportive and attentive to my needs. He is patient with my mood swings, solicitously helpful during my random bouts of nausea, and diligent about reminding me to have regular, healthy snacks. As far as physical support goes, he is a model partner. Emotionally speaking, however, I remain largely on my own. He never talks about the baby, never even asks me questions about the pregnancy at all, almost as if he has no personal interest in it whatsoever. And perhaps, he doesn't.

Anakin has never made any secret of the fact he's ambivalent about becoming a father. He accepts that as his new reality, but he is nowhere near embracing it. I understand the reason he's struggling, and I'm willing to be patient with him…to a point. My biggest issue isn't his persistent apathy but that he seems uninterested in doing anything about it. From my perspective, he is wholly unmotivated to confront and conquer his feelings, and that disappoints me more than his lack of enthusiasm.

I'm hopeful that matters will improve at my upcoming doctor's appointment, which is set to take place in two days. That visit will determine whether the baby is growing normally and in overall good health. Now that I've officially entered my second trimester of pregnancy, the risk of miscarriage has lessened considerably. With that transition comes a great deal of relief. Though I hadn't shared my fears with anyone, the possibility that I might lose my pregnancy had been a niggling anxiety for me since that very first appointment when Dr. Moren had tossed out the careless warning. I'm glad to have one worry laid to rest.

In the meantime, my strange dreams about the curly haired little boy leading me through a mysterious hedge maze have only intensified. Every night I awaken, damp with perspiration and filled with unnamed anxiety because I know that it is imperative that I follow him to the end of the maze. I need to find the place where he's leading me. But I can never keep up. I am continually losing him in the mist or hitting dead ends. All I know for sure is that whenever I wake before reaching the end, I'm left feeling overwhelmed with fear, despair and hopelessness. More than once, I've cried myself to sleep.

I haven't talked to anyone else about that either, although my avid research into pregnancy development has revealed that vivid, unsettling dreams are not uncommon. I'm convinced that I have nothing to stress about and likely the dreams are meaningless, but I also can't completely shake the sense that they represent something more. I want to ask Anakin about it and get his opinion, but that would require an in-depth dialogue and we seem incapable of that these days.

When the day comes for my appointment with Dr. Moren, I am not at all surprised that Anakin is running late. He's been busy recruiting on Corellia. I had anticipated that it would take him some time to make it from there to Naboo for my appointment so, I'm not overly concerned when they call me back to the exam room and he still hasn't arrived.

Once my height and weight have been documented, the medical droid instructs me undress and don the treatment gown that he provides. It's all very routine but I'm a vat of churning nerves for multiple reasons, most notably because this will be the first of many appointments that Anakin and I will complete together. I'm not sure what to expect or even how engaged he will be.

I have just finished shrugging into the gown and I'm in the process of situating myself on the exam table when Anakin makes his breathless arrival. "Sorry I'm late," he bursts out in greeting, "Did they already start?"

"Nothing has happened yet. I'm still waiting for Dr. Moren to arrive."

"Oh. Great. I didn't miss anything."

"How did your recruiting go?" I ask in an effort to fill the silence that settles between us.

"It went very well," he says, "We should be ready to begin designating sectors soon. I like how the recruits are looking. There are more clones interested than I thought there would be. It's really exciting. The new recruits still need to get through basic training, but things look promising."

It's hard not to smile as I listen to him talk. His excitement is infectious. This is his element. Anakin is a man of action and drive. He craves the adrenaline rush that comes with combat, narrow escapes and near misses. He thrives in adversity.

Even with his withdrawal from the Order, he has been diligent about keeping up with his lightsaber forms. He even built a specialized combat droid designed specifically for sparring. I've watched his arduous training sessions numerous times, mesmerized by the smooth flexing of his muscled torso as he spars, his skin glistening with perspiration under the glare of the hot Tatooinian suns. He doesn't seem to realize that his determination to keep himself fit is literally driving me to distraction. As far as Anakin is concerned, however, his primary goal is keeping himself prepared for war even in this time of relative peace.

I knew that, in the long term, he was never going to be satisfied with being a simple mechanic on a small, forgotten planet in the Outer Rim. Truthfully, I wouldn't expect him to be either. He is the Chosen One after all and, inarguably, the most powerful Force user to ever live. He had been born to accomplish great things, and he has yet to scratch the surface of those deeds.

"I'm glad everything is going well for you, Ani."

"And what about you? Did you receive accreditation for the new school?"

"I did, but it's become a much bigger project than I was anticipating."

What had initially started as a small training program for retired clone soldiers is gradually growing into a multi-tiered curriculum featuring subjects like engineering, robotics, and mechanical repair. Recently the Senate decided that, not only should this school be made available free of charge to clones but also to other underserved citizens across the Galaxy. It's a noble endeavor, but it also feels like too much for a newly married, newly pregnant former senator to take on, and I tell Anakin as much.

"You know that delegation is a thing, Padmé," he advises me mildly, "You don't have to do everything yourself. Hire an assistant."

"Now you sound like Bail," I laugh wearily, "Is the money supposed to rain from the sky?"

"If the Senate can fund a war, then they can fund a school and the necessary personnel for that school. Get an assistant." He regards me speculatively when my response to that is little more than a wan smile. "You look tired," he notes softly, "Are you still having nightmares?"

I glance at him sharply. "How did you know I was having nightmares?"

Anakin rolls his eyes, his expression smug. "I do sleep next to you on occasion. Also, I've only been dealing with nightmares for most of my life. I know what they look like, Padmé. I know the difference between getting up to use the fresher and getting up because you're restless."

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"Why haven't you?"

The question is punctuated with an undercurrent of exasperation and gives me my first real indication that Anakin has been just as dissatisfied with our non-communication lately as I have been. I slump forward with a heavy sigh before turning to regard him mournfully. "Anakin…" I begin tentatively, "…do you ever get the sense that you and I are talking, but we're not really saying what matters?"

His reply is cut short by Dr. Moren's abrupt arrival. I try not to growl aloud in frustration as the doctor genially thrusts his hand out to Anakin. "I'm Dr. Deek Moren. You must be the husband."

Anakin shakes his hand with a confirming nod. "Anakin Skywalker. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You chose a good appointment to tag in," Dr. Moren tells him, "This is where the fun begins."

Based on Anakin's uneasy expression, I'm not sure how much he agrees with that statement, but he makes no dissenting comment in response and merely stands aside quietly while Dr. Moren begins his exam. He briskly takes measurements of my abdomen and hips, murmuring his findings to his accompanying medical droid as he works.

"Your baby seems to be growing nicely. We'll perform a sonogram today to confirm," he says once he's finished, "You're still a little underweight, Padmé. I want you to focus on increasing your caloric intake."

Anakin's anxious query of "She's underweight? How underweight?" immediately drowns out my compliant reply.

"Nothing too drastic," Dr. Moren says, "Only 10 kilograms or so. But being underweight could cause some potential complications later in the pregnancy which is why I would like her to get ahead of it now."

"Is there anything in particular she should be eating?"

"Hello? Still in the room and capable of speech," I interrupt irritably, glaring at Anakin, "I can ask my own questions! Thank you very much!" He makes a grand, sweeping arc with his hand in sardonic invitation for me to proceed. I turn to face Dr. Moren with a polite smile. "What should I be eating, Dr. Moren?"

Dr. Moren chuckles. "Lots of proteins and carbohydrates," he advises me, "Don't overdo it, but keep yourself nourished. Growing a baby is hard work."

"Yes. I know."

"How's your fatigue and nausea? Are they improving?"

"The fatigue isn't going anywhere," I tell him, "I get tired just thinking about how tired I am. The nausea is better, but I still get sick first thing in the morning."

"You might be one of those unlucky women who experiences full term morning sickness then."

"Excellent."

"Let me know if it gets bad enough that you can't keep anything down," he says, "We may have to consider intravenous fluids if that happens."

"Can she really get that sick?" Anakin asks, his brow knit with an anxious frown.

"It's rare. But it can happen," Dr. Moren replies. He smiles reassuringly at Anakin. "Try not to worry. Padmé is in perfect health. I have no serious concerns presently." He then turns back to me, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Now then…are you ready to hear your baby's heartbeat?"

I'm surprised when Anakin and I both answer "yes" at the same time. I'm even more surprised when he starts inching his way closer to the exam table, and pestering Dr. Moren with one question after another after hearing his child's heartbeat for the first time. They begin slowly but eventually transition into a full-on inquisition.

Why is it so fast? Is that normal? What is a normal heartrate anyway? What is the baby's heartrate? That's only slightly above normal, should we be concerned that it's not more in the middle? Is that considered healthy? How do you know that doesn't indicate some sort of distress? Should you check? What qualifies you to make that call? Can I see your credentials? They come furiously, so detailed and probing that I can only lie there and listen in stunned disbelief. It's obvious that, despite not having said a word to me about his feelings, Anakin has been thinking about this for a while now.

It's an unprecedented turn of events for me because this is the most interest that he's shown in my pregnancy since I first told him more than a month ago. I'm almost hesitant to read into his actions because I'm terrified that his questions might be born from simple curiosity rather than an inherent change in attitude. But it's such a radical shift that the need to press him for details is nearly overwhelming.

I'm ready to stage an inquisition of my own now. Unfortunately, as soon as they begin prepping me for the sonogram, Anakin receives a comm from Bail and, my plans to interrogate him are effectively thwarted. He steps away to take the call while the medical droid talks me through the details of the procedure. I only half listen because I'm too busy trying to eavesdrop on Anakin's call.

"What's going on?" I ask as soon as he resumes his post beside me a few minutes later.

"There's an emergency Senate hearing today for the approval of additional funds for the GFCA," he explains, "They want it to become functional immediately. The Chancellor wants me to update the Senate on my progress and what other support I will need going forward."

I don't bother masking my disappointment. "Do you have to go right now?"

"Unfortunately," he answers reluctantly, "I should be back at your parents' estate by nightfall though."

"Ani, when you get back, I want us to talk. Really talk. Can we do that please?"

He leans forward to kiss my forehead, yet his expression is inscrutable when he says, "Sure. We can talk."

I leave my appointment less than an hour later with a digital image of my unborn child and the reassurance of a healthy pregnancy, and yet I feel defeated. Sad. Because even with all of that good news, I am still leaving without Anakin. And while I know that isn't something that can be helped given our new responsibilities, I find myself wishing that Anakin and I had declined Bail's offer. At least for the time being, so that we would have had more time to focus on our marriage.

Once I arrive back at my parents' estate, I spend most of the afternoon with them, Sola, and my nieces "oohing" and "ahhing" over the crisp, digital image of the baby. They all take turns guessing at the possible sex while I am adamant that I want to be surprised (though secretly, I'm hoping for a boy). It feels good to share these moments with them, but they are also bittersweet because Anakin's absence is only made more acute. I wonder vaguely if moments like this will characterize my entire pregnancy and the thought makes me sad, especially when my mother doesn't hesitate to point out how Anakin and I seem to spend more time apart than together.

Lending further credence to that argument, dinner comes and goes without Anakin's return. I'm anticipating that he'll likely be spending the night on Coruscant given the late hour. A quick check of my comm messages confirms my suspicions. Apparently, Anakin had been held up unexpectedly by an impromptu meeting with the Jedi Council. They want to discuss his plans for the GFCA, his overall vision and what part he expects the Jedi to play in that vision. Based on his message, it's anyone's guess when he'll leave Coruscant.

Rather than waiting up for him, as had been my original intention, I decide to soak in a warm bath in preparation for bed. I linger to the point where the water grows tepid and uncomfortable, but I still feel restless afterward. Instead of donning my nightgown and crawling into bed after moisturizing my skin, I take some time to study my nude form in the full-length mirror attached to my wall, noting the subtle changes my body has undergone over the course of my 13-week pregnancy.

I am, indeed, thinner than before. That fact is only made more pronounced by the gentle rounding of my lower abdomen. The change is hardly perceptible through my clothing at all but seems prominent without them. I smooth my hands over the small slope with a faint smile, taking note of the slight flaring in my hips and the new fullness to my breasts. I push back my hair, which seems to have gotten thicker and longer in the interim and test the weight of my breasts in my palms. They feel heavy, vaguely tender, and incredibly sensitive. With just the slightest touch, my nipples pebble into aching hardness.

The sensation causes an immediate tingling between my legs. I swallow my resulting groan. It has been literal weeks since Anakin and I were last intimate, though we've shared a bed platonically for much of that time. My desire for him hasn't waned, however. I want him constantly, but after our last conversation about it, I've been cautious around him. I don't want to push him for anything he isn't ready for. I recognize that if that part of our relationship is going to resume, Anakin will have to be the one to initiate it.

I'm happy to be patient with him. My challenge is the waiting and the wanting and being in such tempting proximity to him yet unable to act on my desire. I feel like my body is forever primed for something that will not come. I'm in a perpetual state of simmering arousal. My breasts aren't the only parts of my body extremely responsive to touch. I am equally sensitive in more intimate places. I ache between my legs constantly too.

In the past, I've relieved that ache before with my own fingers, but not recently, not since Anakin and I have been married. I much prefer his touch to my own. But he is not an option now, and I find myself contemplating it, compelled by the fierce need to ease the tension that has been building inside me for weeks. I start to slip my hand lower, my breath quickening in anticipation when my bedroom door suddenly unseals with a quiet whoosh, and Anakin fills the doorway.

Everything happens in a dizzying and mortifying blur after that. I quickly snatch back my hand, squeaking out his name in guilty embarrassment. "What are you doing here?" I gasp.

He just stands there mutely, his eyes glued on my nude body in a transfixed stare. "I…I thought you weren't coming," I stammer, making a self-conscious dive for my discarded robe, "I should—." His harsh, barking command of "Don't!" halts me in my tracks. I glance over at him in surprise and, before I can fully prepare myself for his next move, he is all over me.

Suddenly, I am overwhelmed by his hungry kisses and demanding caresses racing all over my body. It never crosses my mind at all to push him away. I respond without hesitation and return his kisses wildly, as starved for him as he is for me. We stumble blindly towards the bed, parting only long enough to clumsily divest him of his clothing and boots, impervious to the careless mess we leave in our wake. We tumble together, arms and legs tangled hopelessly twisted among the rumpled bedding.

I gasp his name with unrestrained craving, arching into his body with the primal need to be closer. Yet, I'm unable to be close enough, touch enough, kiss enough. It's been so long that our desire for one another seems to have been reduced to a biological imperative. When he finally drives deep inside me, I cannot stifle the serrated groan of pleasure that comes with the sensation of being filled by him so completely, and neither can he. The bedroom quickly becomes filled with the sounds of our mingled grunts and the steady pounding of his quick, pulsing thrusts.

It's over in a matter of minutes. We both orgasm shockingly fast. Anakin stiffens suddenly and shudders out a long, serrated moan against my ear as he releases. The crest of my own climax is so intense that I bite into his shoulder to keep from crying out just as loudly.

The euphoria following my release is quick to fade. When it does, I'm smacked with the sheer magnitude of what we've just done. We've fallen into our typical mode of operations, sex before conversation. I've only just begun to mentally chastise myself when, without a word, Anakin rolls away from me and flops onto his back, looking as dazed as I feel right now. I lie there for a moment as well, collecting my thoughts before I shift onto my side to face him. I can't help but feel a measure of dread as I do because I'm half-expecting him to voice his regret.

Instead, he runs a shaky hand through his sweat dampened hair and murmurs with a faint, thoughtful frown, "Well…that was unplanned."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I wonder aloud.

"Good, I think. Very good." He turns to address me then, his flushed features gloriously unguarded for the first time in weeks. I have truly missed the adoring way he looks at me, like I am some precious treasure that he can't believe is his. "I love you, Padmé," he whispers, "I've missed you. And this." He punctuates each statement with gentle caresses to my hair and cheek and shoulder. "I've missed being with you like this so much."

"I could tell," I reply, a wry smile forming.

He grins at me. "You've missed it too. Don't deny it."

Because I have no interest in doing that whatsoever, I feather my fingers over his collarbone and ask instead, "Are we done being 'neutral' now, Anakin?"

The question wrings a self-conscious laugh from him. "I think that goes without saying." His laughing expression becomes wistful when he adds, "Thank you for being patient with me."

"Of course. I love you," I whisper, "Does this mean you forgive me now?"

"Forgive you?" He squints at me in confusion. "For what?"

"For what I said to you before," I remind him, hesitant to even reference that awful day and spoil this moment between us, "Can we move past that now?"

"Is that what you thought?" he asks in surprise, "That I was angry with you? That I was punishing you?"

"Weren't you?"

"No. Never," he insists, "Before I came to see you on Naboo that day, my mother had a very frank discussion with me about the many ways I was failing you as a husband. It was hard for me to hear, but I knew that she was right. I didn't want to compound matters by failing as a father too."

"But you've been so distant with me."

"I needed time to come to terms with the baby and I didn't want you to feel alienated while I figured that out," he explains, "I also wanted to give you the chance to change your mind about our marriage without any pressure from me or distractions. I had to think about what you needed for once, and I've never been very good about that. I'm sorry."

He isn't telling me anything I didn't already suspect this entire time, but it's reassuring to have his verbal confirmation, nonetheless. "I'm never going to change my mind about our marriage, Anakin. I vowed forever. I meant forever."

"I wanted you to be sure. I needed to be sure." He gestures between us, indicating the intimate positioning of our bodies. "This part has never been a problem for us. We're very good at communicating with each other this way."

I stifle a self-deprecating snort of laughter as he continues, "It's effortless to be with you like this, and that makes it easy to push everything else aside. Sometimes that's a good thing, and sometimes it's not…especially when we need to communicate with words instead. That's usually where you and I run into the most difficulty."

His unfaltering candor causes me to duck my head with a sheepish smile. "Agreed."

"I think we're getting better about that though."

"Are we?" I whisper in challenge, "Does that mean you're ready to talk about the baby now?" Though he exhales a quivering breath, a sure sign that he finds the prospect daunting, he nods his consent. "So…how do you feel about it?"

"Honestly? I can't describe what I feel as excitement yet, but…I'm not indifferent either. I don't feel the same dread I did before but…I'm still frightened most of the time."

"Of what, Ani?"

"Mostly failure," he says quietly, "I'm terrified of failing as a father. No one ever taught me how to be one. I don't want to ruin this child like I've ruined so many other things. And, unfortunately, the father figures I did have weren't the best role models. I know Obi-Wan loved me, but he was emotionally inaccessible. And Palpatine? Well…he turned out to be a manipulative tyrant. He never cared about me at all, and because of him I don't even trust my own judgment anymore. How am I supposed to trust myself with a child?"

"Oh, Anakin…"

"And what you said to me weeks ago about my being willing to dispose of the baby really resonated with me, Padmé," he confesses gruffly, "It hurt when you said that, but I couldn't dismiss it afterward because I knew you had a point. That's the reason I couldn't talk to you after. I was too ashamed, and I felt so panicked that I knew if I tried that I would only make things worse between us."

"You were scared, and you were being honest with me about how you felt," I insist firmly, "I didn't like that you felt that way and I didn't want to hear it. I was hurt by your reaction too, but that doesn't excuse what I said to you. I've regretted every day since. I wish I could take it back, Anakin."

"I know how that feels better than anyone," he murmurs, "I wish I could take back what I said too. I wish I could do that entire day over. But I don't blame you, and I never have. You helped me face a very hard truth. My most instinctive inclination whenever I feel threatened or frightened is to eliminate the thing that makes me feel vulnerable. It's a lesson I learned under Sidious, and it's been difficult to unlearn it."

"Maybe if you talked to someone professional about your feelings…" I emphasize with a meaningful look, though I'm careful not to push too hard. I'm not sure how he'll react.

To my surprise, Anakin bites back an ironic smile. "Yes. Therapy," he acknowledges, "I've decided to do something about that too."

"Really? You have?"

He nods. "In fact, I'm having my sixth session in a week. It's been going well, I guess. He is a Force-sensitive who specializes in treating anxiety disorders and depression."

I pop upright, caught between delight and disbelief at this newest revelation. It's a development I hadn't expected at all. "Oh, Ani, that's wonderful news!" I exclaim, "I know you probably don't have high hopes, but therapy will only help you. Why didn't you tell me that you were seeing someone?"

"This is the first time in weeks that we've been in the same place together for more than a few days," he replies but then he adds with unexpected candor, "And also because…I think I've been afraid to talk to you. So many of our conversations have gone sideways lately. I don't want to say or do the wrong thing. I don't want to hurt you anymore, Padmé."

"Hmm…" I consider pensively as a I settle against him and snuggle closer, "I think you and I should consider making some marriage rules."

He pauses in the act of securing the blanket over us to ward off the settling chill and grimaces as he considers the suggestion. "Marriage rules?" he balks, his distaste for the idea evident in his tone, "What are those supposed to be and why do I feel like I'm going to hate them?"

"You should keep an open mind," I say, laughing at his disgruntled expression (because I'm quite familiar with Anakin's abiding aversion to rules), "My parents have them and my father swears that they're the reason he and my mom have lasted this long. I'm sure you've picked up on the fact that she can be a very difficult woman sometimes."

"That's putting it mildly," he laughs, "Alright. I'm listening. What are these 'marriage rules?'"

"Well, they are mutual agreements that we determine as a couple and promise to uphold for as long as we live."

"So, they're like our marriage vows?"

"Yes and no. These are rules that we can tailor specifically to our relationship."

"Like what exactly?"

"Well, to start, neither of us should be afraid to say what we feel to each other. No more holding back and suffering in silence. No more avoiding the hard conversations for the sake of avoiding a fight. We should be kind to each other, but honest. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And no more walking out. If we fight, then we fight but we stay and figure it out. We won't leave and we go to bed angry with each other. Do you agree?"

"I agree." He tries to pull me against him, no doubt to seal our deal with kisses, but I deftly dodge his efforts because I'm not quite finished.

"And also," I add, muffling my giggle at his longsuffering groan, "You should know that you are my very best friend, Anakin Skywalker, and there is no one that I trust more than you. I know that you can't change what you did in your past. You can't say that 'I'll never do that.' But you can say, 'I'll never do that again,' and that's enough for me. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he whispers, "Anything else?"

"Only that I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

Anakin smiles and kisses me gently, sweetly. "Same. I love you too."

"What about you?" I whisper as he leans over me, "Do you have any rules?"

He ponders the question for a moment after he's settled on top of me. "Not a rule, but a request."

"What?"

"Stop referring to yourself in the third person, as if I've loved another woman besides you. It's not her or 'the other Padmé.' It's just you. It has always been just you. And it will always be just you."

I wrap my arms around his neck, content to get lost in the sensation of his warmth and weight pressed against me again. "Would you like to see the digital holos of your baby now?" I ask him softly.

My heart soars when he answers without hesitation, "Yes."

That night, after Anakin and I have made love a second and third time, I dream of the maze again. I'm running and running, determined to catch him this time. And this time I do. I snag hold of his shirt and sweep his small, squirming body into my arms. Relief pours over me like a balmy rain following a severe drought. I pepper his face with kisses, admonishing him gently for running away from me and full of determination never to let him go again.

"But don't you see, Mommy?" he laughs merrily, "You did it. You found him!"

"Found who, little one?"

Confused and intrigued, I follow his pointing index finger towards the thing he's been leading me to all along. I'm shocked by what I find. Anakin stands only a short distance away, grinning at us both. My dream son smacks a sweet kiss to my cheek then, clearly pleased with himself.

"You see, Mommy?" he whispers, "I knew you would find him."

I wake from the dream with a sudden, startled gasp, just as I have weeks past. Only this time I'm not filled with hopelessness as I come back to wakefulness. Instead, as I shift onto my side to contemplate Anakin's sleeping countenance in the moonlight that spills in fractured beams through my bedroom window, I am smiling.