Chapter 12 – Light and Dark
The lights were bright. Too bright.
Padmé was seated at a white table in a white cell. Her legs and hands were shackled with energy binders. She stared blankly at the pane of glass in front of her. In the hallway she saw four Jedi Temple guards standing by the door, their lightsabers clutched firmly in hand.
It had been hours since the Jedi deposited her here. She had shrieked and cried at them then, but now she was docile, her dejection so great that she was practically catatonic. All she could think of was the look on Anakin's face, the betrayal in his eyes.
She had ruined everything. The moment to reveal herself had passed her by. This all could have been avoided. Of course, Anakin would still have been horrified, but at least he wouldn't despise her. Surely he did now. After what she had done…
She bit down on her tongue at the memory of Dooku's murder.
One… two… three…
The sound, that horrible sound…
Four… five… six…
Crunch.
Why had she done it? Because Palpatine told her? Was she really that slavishly obedient? Dooku had been about to reveal Palpatine's identity. She should have let him! What did it matter to her if he got caught?
Because he was her only hope. She knew that now. This hadn't been a part of the plan. How could it be? She had interfered and Palpatine had been blindsided. Now he would have to adjust. He was probably furious with her. But even so, she didn't doubt he would come to her rescue. By killing Dooku, she had demonstrated her loyalty and recommitted herself to him. Palpatine would reward her for that.
He couldn't lose her. Just like she couldn't lose him.
The door opened and Padmé's vision came back into focus. In walked Windu, his lips curled in a snarl. Behind him was Anakin and Obi-Wan. Neither of them made eye contact with her, both staring determinedly at the floor. Leading the rear was the Grand Master himself, Yoda. The little green man turned to the Temple Guards and gave them a nod. They keyed a control panel and a red ray shield sealed the cell shut, followed thereafter by a physical one made of presumably impenetrable glass.
"Senator Amidala, are your new quarters to your liking?" Windu asked before pulling out a chair opposite her and taking a seat.
Padmé disregarded this facetious question. She instead looked to her left. "What's that?"
A rectangular viewport in the white wall presented her with a view of a cage of sort. Sprouting from a pot was a gnarled tree with thick branches that wended to the ceiling. Draped across one such branch was a sanguine creature with scaly reptilian skin. Its four eyes were blinking lazily and it had a funny look on its face, almost like a smile.
"That is a Ysalamir," Obi-Wan answered. He too took a seat while Anakin remained standing alongside Yoda.
"A what?"
"I see there are some things the Sith do not teach," Windu smirked.
"Why is it here?"
"It repels the Force," Obi-Wan explained.
Padmé blinked twice before realizing the significance of this. "Oh," she said. "So I can't escape."
"Precisely," Windu said.
That was fine. She hadn't been planning on attempting an escape anyway. That would be suicide and she knew it.
"We have a great deal to discuss," Windu said.
Padmé said nothing to this. Her gaze drifted to Anakin who quickly looked away.
"We interrogated your two handmaidens. They didn't have much to say."
"They don't know anything," Padmé said.
"Perhaps. They will remain in custody in the meantime."
"What? You can't do that! They haven't done anything wrong!"
"Do you need another lesson on Article 2 dash 11 of the War Powers Act?"
Padmé set her jaw. "No," she ground out.
"We have also arrested your head of security, Gregar Typho. He was similarly oblivious."
Padmé stared intently at the table in front of her. Windu was trying to bait her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"You have questions for me, I presume?" she said.
She detected a flicker of frustration from Windu. Curious, she looked back up. It seemed her access to the Force wasn't completely stymied as she had been led to assume.
"We want to know what Dooku was trying to tell us," Obi-Wan said.
"Before you killed him," Anakin added.
Padmé looked up at him sharply. His voice was flat. She detected no disgust there, but perhaps he was merely suppressing it.
"How should I know?" she asked innocently.
Again, Anakin looked away. He clearly felt uncomfortable.
"Always two there are: a master and an apprentice."
Yoda spoke for the first time. His cane ticked against the sterile floor as he walked around the table. Padmé eyed him warily when he approached, yet the Grand Master did not meet her gaze. He instead passed her and paced away toward the back of the cell where a bunk could be found pressed flush against the wall.
"Believe this, the Jedi have for a millennium. Make us question, Dooku's words do."
"I am the master," Padmé claimed. "Dooku was my apprentice."
"Unlikely, that is."
Padmé craned her head to look at Yoda. "Do you doubt me?"
"You cannot possibly be the master," Obi-Wan said, and Padmé turned back. "You were only fourteen when Maul emerged."
"So?"
"You mean to say you trained him?"
Padmé shook her head. "He was my master," she said, thinking fast.
Obi-Wan and Windu traded looks. "That's possible," the former mused.
"But improbable," Windu said. "You wouldn't be powerful enough to make Dooku your apprentice if your training was cut short so prematurely."
Damn. Windu was smarter than she gave him credit.
"Just tell us the truth, Padmé," Anakin entreated.
She winced. The truth. How she hated that word.
"You want the truth? I'm defeated. The Jedi have won. What more do you want?"
There was a tense silence. She knew she hadn't fooled them, but it hardly mattered. They weren't getting the truth out of her. No way would she betray Palpatine to them.
"Tell us about Ahsoka Tano."
Padmé started at Windu's question.
"Ahsoka?"
"You sent her to Mandalore to assist in the civil war there."
Padmé looked at Anakin. For once, he didn't look away.
"You recruited her after she left the Order, didn't you?"
"Recruit? No, I –"
"There is little point in denying this," Obi-Wan cut in. "Ahsoka has been arrested and is being brought to Coruscant as we speak. We will get the truth out of her if you do not give it to us now."
"You arrested her? But… but…"
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
"Ahsoka is innocent. She has nothing to do with this."
"We will be the judge of that," Windu said coldly.
Padmé turned to Anakin. "Please, Anakin! You know I'm right!"
Anakin's face was taut. "I don't think I can be sure of anything anymore," he said.
Her heart broke at these words. If only she could just talk to him! Make him understand! But there was nothing she could say. What they once had was lost, and it was entirely her fault.
Windu asked her a few more questions, but Padmé scarcely heard them. She just shook her head. No, she didn't know where Grievous was. No, she didn't know if the Confederacy planned to surrender. No, she didn't know anything.
"You will talk," Windu threatened. "Maybe not today, but someday. We won't relent until you do."
She sighed. "You plan to keep me here forever?"
"We will do what we must to protect the galaxy from you."
Padmé snorted. "That's a lie. All you care about is protecting yourselves."
"Believe that if you wish," Windu said. He stood up, and Obi-Wan quickly followed suit. "We will be adding some amenities to your cell. A refresher will be installed at some point. Until then, you can use the bucket over there." He pointed to the corner of the cell and Padmé's lip curled with disdain. She saw Anakin wince. "We will also be bringing you some clothes."
"Clothes?" she echoed.
"They won't be as fancy as you're used to, I'm afraid," Windu said, although his tone suggested he was anything but.
"Jumpsuits?" Padmé asked.
"Pardon?"
"You know. Prison garb?"
"I assume so."
She shook her head. "That won't do."
"Oh no?"
"I need something with a looser fit."
Windu guffawed. "You're hardly in the position to make demands."
"It's not a demand. It's a requirement."
"Why is that?"
She rested her hands over her midsection and closed her eyes. Of the countless ways she had envisaged telling him, this one had certainly never crossed her mind.
"Because I'm pregnant."
Δ Δ Δ
It was late. Or at least Padmé thought it was. She had no sense of time in this cell. They had shut off the bright lights, which was a welcome change. At least her circadian rhythm wouldn't be affected.
The Temple Guards had come by a few hours ago to unshackle her from the energy binders. They had also provided her with a small plastic dresser stocked full with clothing. The Jedi had listened to her request, but Padmé couldn't help but be disappointed. All she had to wear were a dozen interchangeable satin white dresses. The guards had also installed a sliding curtain in the far right corner of the room which provided her a modicum of privacy.
She had since gotten changed and was lying supine on the bunk, her hands spread across her stomach, her eyes glassy as she stared at the ceiling. Hours in solitude should have given her ample time to think, but Padmé's mind felt muddled. All she could do was replay Anakin's reaction in her mind: A suppressed gasp of shock, a flash of fear, and what she hoped had been a glimmer of excitement. The latter must have been a figment of her imagination. He didn't see her as his wife anymore, but as his enemy. The children she bore would forever be tainted by her. Anakin wouldn't want them. He wouldn't want anything to do with her.
The lights in the hallway suddenly turned on. Padmé turned her head and squinted. Was it morning already? A soft echo of footsteps had Padmé intrigued. Swinging her legs off the bed, she slipped on the pair of moccasins the Temple Guards had given her and got to her feet. As she walked toward the glass wall, she saw a familiar figure emerge from around the corner.
"Anakin!"
Her husband came to an abrupt stop. They stared at each other for a long while before he looked away, his eyes furtive and anxious.
"No guards?" he asked.
Padmé approached the glass. "No. They left a while ago."
Anakin licked his lips and looked back at her. He didn't approach, seemingly frozen in place a few meters away. His eyes drifted down.
"Anakin," she pleaded.
"I've overridden the security cameras," he said briskly. "We have about ten minutes before they come back on line."
Padmé blinked twice in astonishment. "Anakin?" It seemed that was all she could say.
He took a tentative step forward, eyes still trained on her midsection. "Am I…?"
"The father?" she provided. He nodded. "Of course you are. Why would you –" She stopped herself. Of course she knew why he would ask. He had said it himself: he didn't know what to believe anymore.
"Padmé, I…" He shut his mouth and shook his head.
"Do you hate me?"
He didn't react to the question. No confirmation, but certainly no denial.
"You…" Once again, he trailed off. He took another step forward. "Did you ever love me?"
Yes! Of course I did! Always!
But Padmé didn't say that. She needed him to believe her. She needed him to sense her sincerity. To know beyond a shadow of a doubt.
"Anakin," she said softly. Padmé placed a hand on the glass. "Can you still feel the Force?"
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
She cocked her head to the Ysalamir cage. "It doesn't suppress it completely." She spread her fingers. "Anakin. Please."
He realized what she was trying to do. Taking one last step, he bridged the gap between them. He raised his right hand, then stopped. Lowering the mechanical one back to his side, he lifted the flesh one and planted it atop her own, a single pane of glass all that separated them. Their eyes met, his pained and somber, hers firm and resolute.
"I've always loved you."
Anakin's face twitched when he sensed the truth of Padmé's declaration, the strength of their bond overcoming the suppression of the Force. He could tell that she had never lied to him about this. Not once.
"Anakin," she said, uttering his name like a prayer. "Say something."
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the glass. His face was wrought with conflict.
"Ani, please."
His hand slipped away from the glass, his fingertips leaving a trail of condensation. Arm shaking, he raised the flesh fist. She watched with wide eyes as a tingling sensation prickled on the back of the neck. She had seen this before; she knew how this scene was going to unfold.
Sure enough, Anakin lowered his arm and marched away. She heard herself calling after him like she had done every night in her dreams.
"Anakin! Come back! Don't leave me!"
Her words did not sway him. Taking a turn, he disappeared out of sight and the lights of the hall went dark.