Chapter Seventeen

"Bon?"

"No."

"Alin?"

"Also no."

"Ceril?"

"Ceril Skywalker? Really? Now you're being ridiculous."

I tip a woeful glance down at Anakin where he lies haphazardly sprawled on his back across the foot of my childhood bed. "You'd better hope this baby is a girl because the only name we've managed to agree on so far is 'Leia,'" I tell him dourly.

"Lucky for us she is a girl," he tosses back airily, "So, crisis averted."

The sheer confidence in his statement has me narrowing my eyes with mounting suspicion. We've both agreed that we will wait to learn the baby's gender, though I'm rather firm in my convictions that we're having a boy, especially after the dreams I've had. That being the case, I've been quite insistent on picking out the perfect name for him. Anakin, however, doesn't seem as keen on that because he seems equally certain that I am having a girl.

I shift upright and crawl over to straddle him, pinning him to the bed by his shoulders. "What makes you so confident the baby's a girl, hmm?" I charge him, "Spill your guts, Skywalker! Is this a Jedi thing? It's not fair if you use the Force, Anakin!"

"I'm not using the Force at all," he laughs, palming the gently rounded girth of my abdomen, "Call it my fatherly intuition."

I smirk at him. "I didn't realize there was such a thing."

"Well…" he drawls, pulling me down against him for a smiling kiss, "…you learn new things every day. Consider yourself enlightened, milady."

In the near six weeks since the first doctor's appointment we attended together, Anakin's anxiety over impending fatherhood has gradually begun to lessen. There are even moments, like now, where he expresses genuine joy and excitement. However, I'm not naïve. This journey won't be a linear one by any means. I know that he continues to struggle with lingering doubts. His nightmares persist and he's sometimes struck with random anxiety attacks and occasional bouts of depression. Thankfully, those episodes are beginning to become less frequent now that's he's begun twice weekly therapy.

As the weeks progress, he's become much more engaged in my pregnancy, inordinately fascinated with the changes taking place both inside and outside of my body. Knowing that his attraction for me hasn't waned goes a long way towards calming my secret insecurities related to those transformations. Since we've resumed making love, Anakin is always eager to have me whenever and however he can because he can't explore those changes enough. Though his appetite for sex has always been rather insatiable, it feels as if his hunger has also become a contagious thing. I am just as eager to have him.

It is that same eager spirit that prompts me to deepen our kiss now. But when I start to slip my hands beneath his shirt, he catches hold of my questing fingers before I can begin shoving it up his torso. Undeterred, I begin nibbling kisses across his jawline before slipping lower to nip at his throat.

"Stop it…" he groans half-heartedly as I kiss my way down his body, "You know I need to leave in an hour. Don't start anything you can't finish."

I pause to pluck suggestively at the waistband of his trousers before descending further to graze the growing ridge in his pants. At his sharp intake of breath, I raise my head and favor him with a feline smile. "Oh, I could definitely finish you in an hour…more than once."

He regards me with a hungry, heavy-lidded stare. "I've been a very bad influence on you. But I'm afraid…" he adds with a deep, reluctant sigh of unwavering resolve, "…we're going to have to save this for another time." I whimper his name in protest when he drags me back up against him and then deftly flips our positions so that I'm trapped beneath him. I glower at him like I child who has just been deprived of her favorite toy. I suppose there's some commonality there.

"Don't look at me like that. You know I want to," he chuckles, "But I promised Pooja that I would join her tea party before I left. So, unfortunately, I can't stay in here and play with you."

"I can't believe you're throwing me over for another woman," I gasp in mock affront, "And a younger one at that! I'm thoroughly outraged."

"What can I say? I have a weakness for Naberrie women."

My laughter fades as I consider his looming departure and how much I am dreading our rapidly approaching goodbye. "I don't want you to go."

"I know. I don't want to go either. But we'll be back together again before you know it."

Though I try to talk myself out of being childish and unreasonable, I end up pouting anyway. "I hate this, Anakin. I can't believe I'm not going to see you again for ten days!"

While our marriage has undergone a necessary refining period and we are stronger as individuals and as a couple, our conflicting work schedules continue to present challenges. Coordinating time together has only become more difficult since Anakin has begun taking on assignments to investigate potential terror threats to the Galaxy. His work very often takes him off world, far beyond the mid-rim and has brought him back into close association with the Jedi again. Because I know that he appreciates being able to spend more time with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, I try keep my complaints about his absences to myself.

In the meantime, Anakin and I have been reduced to syncing our individual calendars so that we can anticipate when we will be in the same place again and for how long. That's how I know that my next opportunity to see him will be on Coruscant ten rotations from now when I'm due to meet with Bail for our weekly budget proposal meeting. For eight of those ten days, Anakin will be on assignment on Florrum, scouting leads for a rumored crime syndicate with plans to undermine the fledgling New Republic. It will be the longest we've been apart since we've been married.

I suppose I should be grateful for that long separations like this are uncommon. Despite the days Anakin and I are forced to spend apart physically, we're still able to keep our emotional connection vibrant and alive. Rarely is a full planetary rotation completed without us taking the time to reach out to each other to discuss our respective days or engage in idle chitchat about my pregnancy or what new things we've learned concerning fetal development.

We talk like friends, which is something I've come to deeply appreciate though our conversations do venture into less "friendly" topics on occasion… For the most part, we make our less-than-ideal circumstances work. I am fortunate that we were able to even coordinate this time together here on Naboo for my latest doctor's appointment, though it's difficult to take solace in that small compromise when I continually wish things were different.

It's not that I regret taking on my new role or that I begrudge Anakin his. In many ways, our latest responsibilities have provided us with much needed direction. We are both driven, ambitious people and we thrive on challenge. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I found the timing regretful. Here we are loaded down with the daunting task of remaking the entire galactic governmental system all while navigating the conflicts that come with being newly married. It's not so different from the choice we made in Anakin's altered timeline, only now we've decided to throw in the added stress of a baby too. I hate feeling as if we're making the same mistakes in a new timeline and I tell Anakin as much.

When I scoot from underneath him and roll upright, he's quick to reassure me and alleviate my misgivings. "It's not the same at all," he says, "We're in a much better place now than we were then."

"How? We're putting the same exact stressors on our marriage that broke it the first time," I mumble unhappily, "Maybe we should consider stepping back…"

He whispers my name and reaches over to gently cup my face when we I won't immediately look at him. "Our marriage isn't going to fall apart just because you and I have busy jobs."

"It did before," I remind him grimly.

"No, that happened because I made horrible choices. Besides that, our marriage is much more solid now than it ever was then. We have the hard conversations now, and we never did that before. My therapist says that's progress."

"That's all well and good, but what about the circumstances that caused those horrible choices in the first place?" I whisper, "I know you're in therapy now but… You're still dealing with a lot, and I worry that maybe it's too much, Ani."

He abruptly drops his hand from my face and stiffens. "You don't think I'm stable enough."

"That's not what I said."

"That's what you meant."

I study his stony profile in silence before sighing in concession. "We promised we were going to be honest with each other from now on, right?"

Anakin jerks a nod. "Right."

"So then…yes," I admit hesitantly, "Maybe I am afraid that you aren't stable enough yet."

"Is this about what I told you the other night?" he sighs irritably.

When Anakin first revealed his therapy sessions with Dr. Tessen Wilc, a Coruscanti native and Force sensitive healer who had become well versed in treating Jedi generals suffering from the traumatic anxiety disorder associated with the war, I had not pressed him for the details of those sessions. I had refrained from doing so, not because I was uninterested but because I didn't feel it was appropriate for me to ask what they talked about. Anakin's relationship with his therapist seemed like an inordinately private thing, and I hadn't wanted to pry.

So, I had waited for Anakin to volunteer the information…which he did not. This, of course, led to a brief bout of miscommunication between us that caused Anakin to assume I was indifferent and me to assume that he didn't want to talk to me about it. But once we had resolved those misunderstandings and the hurt feelings that had resulted, Anakin had not held back from sharing the details of whatever he discussed with Wilc.

That was how I learned, albeit through a ludicrously casual conversation during dinner, that my husband had been harboring suicidal tendencies for years and had even tried, at least on one occasion in the past to take his own life by collapsing an entire building on top of himself. Though Anakin had been quick to reassure me that killing himself hadn't been something he'd "seriously considered" in months, the revelation had left me shaken. I knew he battled feelings of self-hatred and shame, but I had never considered that his loathing for himself would run so deeply that he would literally want to die because of it or make an actual suicide attempt.

"Should I not have said anything?" he considers when the expression on my face makes the answer to his earlier question abundantly clear.

"No! I'm glad you told me."

He scoots out the bed with short, scoffing laugh and moves to stand near the bedroom window. "Only now you're afraid I'm going to do something desperate every time I'm out of your sight. I'm not on the verge of some psychotic break, you know?"

"I never said you were."

"You're acting like it."

I frown at his back. "That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

He directs a sour glance at me over his shoulder. "I'm not the one being dramatic right now."

"You think I'm being dramatic to worry about you?"

Anakin turns to face me fully, his arms folded in a defensive posture. "Padmé, when I made that attempt, it was in the very early days of the Empire," he says, "when I was still raw from having lost everything. I had nothing to live for. I tried once more after that, and I was unsuccessful that time too. It's not like I've tried recently!"

"But you've thought about it," I discern quietly.

Though he is incredibly slow to answer, he is unswervingly honest when he does. "Once or twice. But I always put the thought away as soon as it comes. Dr. Wilc says that's a permanent solution for a temporary or, at least, manageable problem. He's right. I would never try it again. I promise you. Besides, it's clear that the Force isn't keen on letting me die."

"Is that what you really believe?"

He shrugs. "It makes sense. Why else would I survive Mustafar?" he posits softly, "For years I was furious about that too. Because I wanted to die. That's partly what motivated me to immerse myself so deeply in the dark side. I thought if the Force wanted me to live and suffer, then I would use that suffering to my advantage…and I would make the Galaxy suffer right along with me. And, for a long time, that's exactly what I did."

"And now?"

"Now I wonder if I'm still here for another purpose altogether," he considers, "I should have died on Mustafar, but I didn't. I should have died with you, but I didn't. I should have died after that last duel with Obi-Wan, but I didn't. And now I'm here. That must be for a reason. I have no desire to end my life now. I have everything I could ever want."

"It's not that I think that you'll hurt yourself…not intentionally, at least," I reply carefully, "But we both know you have self-destructive tendencies, Anakin. Who's to say you won't inadvertently place yourself in harm's way due to some subconscious need you have to punish yourself?"

"Dr. Wilc has said the same thing," he admits with a wry, introspective smile, "He calls it 'hunting for my own death.'"

I move myself from the bed to join him at the window and tuck myself in his arms. "Then you know that I'm not being arbitrary," I whisper, sighing in relief when he hugs me tight, "I just worry."

"I don't want you to think that I'm always poised on the edge of a breakdown because I'm not. Dr. Wilc is helping me not to be so hyper-focused on things I can't change, and I'm getting better about that. I need you to trust me."

"I do trust you," I insist softly, tipping my head back to regard him, "but I also need you to remember what an incredible person you are. See yourself through my eyes."

He quirks a thoughtful brow. "Did you ever consider that you don't have the clearest vision? You're terribly biased when it comes to me, Padmé. I think it's probably the only real flaw you have."

"And yet, I'm the biased one in this marriage," I reply, surveying him with a wry look, "How does that work, Anakin?"

"I call it as I see it."

"Since when did you become so modest? Aren't you the same man who's always so quick to tell everyone how you're the best at everything?"

"While it is true that I am the best pilot…and the best mechanic…and the most powerful Force user to ever live," he recites with his usual trademark arrogance, and I have to mask my responding giggles in his chest because he's so unapologetic about it, "it's being the best son, husband and father that continues to be a challenge for me…and those are the things I most especially want to do right."

I give him a reassuring squeeze. "Fortunately, you have plenty of time to perfect all three," I tell him with a teasing smile, "Then you will truly be the best at everything, Ani. Maybe they'll even build a monument to celebrate your unparalleled perfection."

"Nothing less than naming an entire planet after me would suffice."

"Oh, indeed," I laugh irreverently before adding with the utmost seriousness, "I'm very proud of you."

"For what?"

"You've grown so much in this past year and come so far. You can't always see how much you've changed, but I can. I think that's why the Force gave you a second chance…because it knew you deserved one."

"You need to stop saying things like that," he whispers.

"And why is that?"

"Because you make me love you even more than I do already. You keep it up and I might just lose my resolve and ravish you before I leave after all."

I blink up at him innocently. "Oh, really? I'm sorry, is there supposed to be a downside to that plan?"

In the end, Anakin manages to both "ravish me" and serve as an honored guest at Pooja's tea party before he leaves for Florrum. Later, I'm surrounded by my family as I watch his ship disappear into the clouds with a mingled sense of pride and sadness. Pooja stands beside me, gripping my hand tightly as she watches Anakin's craft retreat steadily into the atmosphere with a similar crestfallen expression.

"Don't worry, Pooja," I whisper, squeezing her fingers briefly in reassurance, "He'll be back."

When she starts to cry, incurring her mother's eye roll and her sister's merciless teasing, my father tries to diffuse the situation by offering treats to everyone as commiseration. My nieces and Sola start to follow him back into the house, but I continue to linger. My mother stays with me. I know that she means for her continued presence to be comforting though her next words to me are anything but that.

"You two live like vagabonds," she says.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That baby will be here before you know it, Padmé. Don't you think it's time you and Anakin start thinking about putting down some permanent roots?"

"I was under the impression that we already had."

"Splitting your time between living here with us and living on Tatooine with his parents is not putting down roots," she intones tartly, "I'm surprised that you're being so irresponsible."

Though it requires incredible restraint, I bite back the sarcastic reply that springs to my lips, but I can't resist from griping, "So now I'm irresponsible in addition to being an aimless nomad? I hadn't realized I was such a crushing disappointment to you, Mom."

"Your primary concern should be providing stability for my grandchild and not flittering about on a whim depending on where your husband may or may not decide to go next."

"Actually, I'm not following Anakin anywhere," I counter in a crisp tone, "He has his own responsibilities and I have mine. Rest assured that my career to keeps me busy enough."

"If you can call advocating for disenfranchised clones a career," she mutters.

"Yes, I do, Mother," I intone tautly, "It's a public service and I am proud to do it! You don't have to approve of my choices, but you should at least respect them!"

"Don't take that tone with me! You know that I'm right, Padmé!" she admonishes sharply, "What kind of foundation are you going to offer that poor baby if you two continue this itinerant existence of yours? A child needs consistency! You need a permanent home."

"We have a permanent home. You just said so. We live on Tatooine, remember?"

"That den of inequity is no place to raise a child!" she sniffs.

I favor her with a wry sideways glance before I wave dismissively and turn to start back towards the house. "How would you know anything about it? You've never visited there once!"

"What good has ever come from a place like Tatooine?"

"My husband came from Tatooine!" I snap back in a deeply offended tone, "And I happen to think he's plenty good!"

"Yes. Continually leaving his pregnant wife to fend for herself is certainly the mark of a 'good' man," she mutters under her breath, but not so low that I don't pick up every word.

I whirl mid-step and pin her with an infuriated glare. "He didn't abandon me! He is working," I intone between clenched teeth. Determined not to lose my patience with her completely, however, I take a few, deep breaths to compose myself before I ask her in the weariest of tones, "Did you really stay behind just to argue with me?"

"No! Of course not! I stayed behind to get you to listen to reason!"

"Is that so?" I snort sarcastically as I resume my march back towards the house, "And what 'reason' would that be?"

She falls into step beside me, her expression entreating as she struggles to keep time with my quick, aggravated pace. "Don't pretend that you're not inclined to raise the baby here on Naboo," she says, "This is your home, Padmé. This planet is your heart. Your heritage is here. There is no question your child should be raised here."

"That is something for me and Anakin to decide."

"And have you decided it?" she presses, "Have you discussed it at all? Or are you taking a page from your husband's book and simply going where the wind carries you?"

I'm not sure at this point if she's being sincere or if she's deliberately trying to antagonize me. Either way, I know that losing my temper and engaging her will only worsen the situation so, once again, I do my best to tamp down my irritation. Instead, I try to look at the situation analytically and discern the underlying reason for her persistent hostility.

"Mom, I have no intention of keeping you from your grandchild, if that's what you fear."

She immediately scoffs at my avowal. "Anakin doesn't like me."

I spin to face her incredulously. "That's not true! You're the one who doesn't like him!" I fire back in accusation, "You go out of your way to make him feel unwelcome every time he comes here!"

"Am I to pretend to be ignorant of your marital problems?"

"Who doesn't have marital problems, Mom?" I retort flatly, "I know that Anakin isn't perfect. But then again, neither am I. Yes, we have had our issues, but we are figuring them out."

Mom stops short, her brows knit together in a brooding frown. "It all happened so fast. I barely get a moment to adjust before something else changes."

I halt mid-step and face her again with a perfunctory sigh. "What happened so fast?"

"Yesterday, you were my baby," she whispers in a hollow tone, "My little girl. And then, overnight, you became his. His love. His wife. The mother of his child. I wasn't ready, Padmé."

That vulnerable admission manages to remove my escalating anger, leaving me filled with contrite understanding instead. "Oh, Mom…" I reach out to pull her into a tender hug, my earlier annoyance with her forgotten entirely. All this time, I've been so preoccupied with my and Anakin's personal insecurities that I never considered that my mother might be dealing with the same insecurities. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm still your daughter."

She holds me tight. "It's different now. I used to be the one who knew you better than anyone," she says, "We were the same, you and me. And now it's as if you've become someone else…someone who doesn't need me anymore because you have him now."

I rear back to regard her with earnest appeal. "That's not true, Mom. Nothing has changed for me. I love and need you just as much as I ever did."

"I feel as if he's taken you away from me…"

"It shouldn't be a contest," I tell her, "There is room in my heart for you both. But Anakin is my husband. My first loyalty must be to him. You know that."

"And if he decides to take you halfway across the galaxy far away from everyone who loves you?"

"First of all, Anakin would never do that," I reassure her, "He wants to become a part of this family, not rip me away from you. Second, of course I need you, Mom. I'll always need you, now more than ever! I don't know the first thing about being a mother! I can't possibly do this without you. Surely you know that, right?"

"I think I did," she whispers, hugging me again, "I only needed to hear you say the words."