Chapter 17: Skeletons in the Closet

Vader left before the next morning. He had not mentioned his eminent departure to her, so Padmé had awoken to an empty bet and no customary not of apology rested on the pillow next to her. To where or for how long the Sith had left, she knew not, but Padmé became unsure of whether she missed him or felt relief in his absence.

Without Vader's being around, she was able to love and nurture her little girl. Mother and daughter were in constant company with each other, and the only other person they ever saw was Jixton.

Occasionally and under the order of his employer, the large man would stop by to see how they were faring. For the first few times, Jixton lived in almost trepidation of the little girl but was soon giving Leia rides on his back, much to the alarm of her cautious mother.

As the months passed by, the child within Padmé steadily grew. Her once gaunt stomach became swollen and, sometimes in the dead of the night as she laid alone in bed, Padmé could have sworn she felt Anakin's strong arms cradling and caressing her belly.

But the only hands that ever loved her child were her own.

For all she knew, Vader was spending his time away in the company of another woman's bed.

Padmé did not want to think about that.

The nightmares began when she was four months along. Sometimes, things in the past needed to be forgotten.

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After waking up from such pleasant dreams, it was always a great disappointment for Padmé to find that her bed was still empty. For four long months, Anakin had been off fighting. The days had been unbearably long, and she wondered how much longer she could stand it.

Her lips curved as the baby kicked her stomach in reassurance.

It's alright, my little one Padmé told her baby. But the baby did not cease its kicking despite her kind thoughts. Still, Padmé got out of bed and prepared for the meetings that were to take place later on that morning.

Minutes later, her handmaidens entered into the bedroom and helped Padmé into her clothes. Nothing about her pregnancy had been told to them, yet many a suspicious glance was cast at her swollen middle.

Upon seeing this and the way they refused to look at her, Padmé blushed before hastily gathering her datacards and heading towards the door.

Someone was there, impeding her departure.

"Master Kenobi!" she exclaimed in surprise, delightedly rushing towards her dear friend. Momentarily, Padmé thought she saw him glance at her stomach, but immediately dismissed it as paranoia.

Something was obviously wrong. His haggard face had lines of fatigue on it and his eyes contained overwhelming sorrow.

Obi-Wan hadn't said anything, but Padmé already knew and so did the child she carried.

A minute later, Padmé found herself sitting on the couch, her friend's comforting hand holding her trembling one. Within her, the baby continued to stir uneasily at the loss of the parent he or she would never know.

"I am so sorry, Padmé," Obi-Wan said quietly. "I knew that Anakin had been a close friend of yours and that you would have wanted to hear of it from me."

Not until you've lost a loved one can you fully understand the emptiness and loneliness that follows. Those dreadful minutes slowly passed by as Padmé realized how greatly her life had changed- before Anakin had stepped into her life, she had not felt the empty hole that existed, but now that he was gone, she saw how grim the rest of her life was to be.

"My lady?" he finally asked after the senator had sat in silence for quite some time.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," the young woman whispered, turning her large, haunted eyes on him. "If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend."

Her life as she had known it might have ended, but the Galaxy continued on.

And so would she.
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Jumping up in the darkness, Padmé's heart pounded.

He was back.

A million thoughts and comments filled her head, including "So, you decided to come back?" but she instead found herself saying, "Hello," in a soft voice that he probably couldn't hear.

"Hello," he rumble back and, at that precise moment, flickered on the light.

Though he had been away for a good several months, Vader did not have the appearance of a man who had filled his leisure time with women and other pleasures. Hard lines creased his face and weary blue eyes stared back at his wife. His muscular and still fully-clothed body leaned against the bedpost in fatigue.

"Where were you?" she whispered, not daring to move.

"You are going to regret your pointed jealousy-filled comments when I tell you," he replied dryly. The weariness left his eyes only to be replaced with mockery.

"As your wife, I have the right to know-"

"I know what you are thinking, my dear wife," he interrupted with great irritation, "but I can assure you that I wasn't in any of those places." His piercing eyes slowly looked her over and finally rested on her stomach. "Sit up," Vader commanded.

Padmé froze and clutched the concealing blankets to her chin, but fear of his wrath caused her to slowly and shakily sit up. Still, the blankets pooled in her lap, covering what her husband wished to see.

In a highly exaggerated movement, Vader moved towards her and, not once breaking his hold on Padmé's petrified eyes, pulled away the blankets.

Any other father would have been filled with pride at the beautiful sight, but Vader just regarded her with his sneering eyes.

She knew what was coming next, but when a gloved hand pressed hard against her stomach, Padmé could not help but gasp. This uncomfortable moment paused momentarily as Vader looked up briefly, but he soon continued his ministrations.

Being not very far along, he was able to cradle her small belly within his strong hands. Within Padmé, the baby kicked and stirred as it felt the unfamiliar presence of his or her father. Despite herself, Padmé closed her eyes and enjoyed his caresses.

Gentle lips touched her own. He was gentle, and that alone was enough to make Padmé open her eyes in surprise, but she immediately closed them and sank into his embrace.

Having undone the fastenings on the bottom of her nightshirt, Vader touched her warm stomach, making the baby quiver in excitement.

Minutes later, she sat close to him with her head resting on Vader's shoulder. Padmé knew that Vader cared about her for only selfish motives, but the last few minutes had felt so much like… it was supposed to have. It reminded her so much of Anakin that she could not but wish that the heart that beat under her cheek was his.

"You are carrying a daughter," he whispered, shifting about uneasily.

A daughter.

"That is… wonderful," she stammered, feeling the tears that welled up in her eyes. "Wonderful…"

"Are you not pleased?" Vader hissed, pulling away from her suddenly. His face had lost it's tender quality as he glared down at his wife with pursed lips.

"No," she said, shaking her head. Still, the woman knew that he saw the tears that slipped down her face. "I am very happy…"

"But?"

"You could never understand."

That was as far as Vader's interest in the mater went. "Very well. There is someone here who I wish for you to meet."

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Padmé had wanted to run back to her bed and lie there weeping for the rest of the day and the next month, perhaps. Anakin was dead, and she'd lost her purpose for living.

The baby kicked, forcing the Senator back into reality. Rubbing her stomach dully when the fact of feeling her baby kick had brought joy just hours earlier, Padmé looked out of the window of the speeder that was taking her to Bail Organa's penthouse. It was futile, this wishing for respite- all of these tears would not change what had happened.

To her great surprise, it was Bail himself who greeted Padmé at the speeder as it landed. Grim faced, he told her of Anakin's unfortunate and sudden demise.

"Master Kenobi has informed me of it," she said stiffly, refusing to look at her friend but instead strode inside and towards the conference room. At that moment, the baby kicked again.

You still have my love, little one

The meeting soon centered not upon the original discussion but around the Chosen One's death. Half of those gathered demanded instant retaliation while others sought other and more peaceful responses.

"The matter of the fact is," Bail insisted, "that we cannot…"

For the first half of the meeting, Padmé had just sat there stiffly clutching her glass but the constant moving of the baby left her uneasy. Normally rather quiet in its existent, the baby did not pause in its kicking for even a moment.

It's alright… everything will be alright

Soon, the glass rested on the table as Padmé indiscreetly placed a hand on her womb. Though she was now feverishly cold, a thin layer of sweat covered the woman's forehead as her pulse began to race.

Something was very wrong.

A burning sensation erupted in Padmé's stomach.

"Something's wrong with my baby!"
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Coming Next: Where's my baby?