Chapter 15 – Promise

Padmé's eyes were out of focus. She stared blankly at the white wall and felt her fingers twitch.

"Padmé?"

That was odd. She felt in control. Curling her wrists, flexing her legs. Yes, she was still in charge.

"Padmé? Are you listening?"

But maybe it was a mirage.

"Yes, Sola. I'm listening."

She turned to her sister, listless and languid. Sola's lips were pursed.

"You drifted off again."

Had she? Frankly, she hadn't noticed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Sola placed a hand on her knee. "I can't imagine what you're going through."

No. Of course she couldn't.

"But it's almost over, Padmé. I promise."

Promise. Futile.

"How long?"

"A week, maybe? It's hard to tell with twins. They usually come early, but there's no way of saying."

A week. That felt too close for comfort, yet simultaneously too far in the future to even bother contemplating. How long had she been in this cell? Weeks, indeed. Many, many weeks. Finite in theory, infinite in feeling. Visits from Sola and Obi-Wan notwithstanding, Padmé had been locked in two cages, the physical one, of course, but also the one of her own making: her mind. She was her sole companion for hours on end, days in fact. She had nothing to do but plot and scheme. Nothing to think of but her plans.

That must be how he felt all the time. Palpatine the conniver, Sidious the manipulator. Her master the spider, brilliant yet solitary, victorious yet hollow.

Padmé was not like him. Never had been. But in some ways he was the only one she could relate with. He was the only one who could possibly understand…

"I've been talking with the Jedi," Sola said.

Padmé didn't react other than an absent "Oh?"

"They won't tell me hardly anything at all. It's infuriating." An agitated Sola ran a hand through her messy hair. "I don't know if they'll let me be there for the birth or if they'll rely on droids."

"Is there a problem with droids?" Padmé asked.

"I need to be there," Sola insisted. "What if something goes wrong?"

"What could go wrong?"

"I don't know! But a physician needs to be on hand in case something does. Droids aren't good enough diagnosticians."

"If you say so."

Sola continued on. "They won't even say if they intend to move you. This cell is not ideal. Far from it! It would be crazy to expect you to give birth here."

"Crazy," Padmé agreed, closing her eyes.

"And what happens after? Are they going to let you nurse the children? They have to, Padmé! It would be cruel. More than that! Criminal! They can't take them from you."

"No," Padmé said. "They will not."

"But how can you know?"

Padmé didn't answer and Sola hung her head.

"I'm scared for you, Padmé."

"Don't be."

"But –"

"Don't be." Padmé gave her sister a pointed look. "I'm serious."

As always, Sola did not seem assured: chewing her lip, bouncing her knee. Padmé attempted to change the conversation.

"How are our parents?"

"Stressed," Sola answered. "Dad wants to go back to Naboo but Mom won't let him leave."

"He wants to go? Why?"

"He doesn't understand why he's here in the first place."

"Nobody told him?"

"Without your permission?"

Padmé shrugged. "I don't mind."

Sola seemed taken aback by this insouciant remark. "But Padmé…"

"What?"

"He's your father."

"So?"

"Don't you want to be the one to tell him?"

"I don't see why it should matter who tells him. If you think he needs to know, go ahead and tell him yourself. I'm sure Jobal would be grateful." Sola looked as if she had been slapped across the face and Padmé suddenly realized her mistake. "Mom, I mean."

Sola crossed her arms. "Do you not consider them family?"

"What? Of course I do."

"What about me?"

"You're my sister. Of course you're my family."

"Are you sure?"

Padmé began to grow frustrated. "What are you getting at, Sola?"

"You're distant, Padmé. Ever since the Jedi arrested you, it feels like you've been drifting away from me."

"On the contrary," Padmé said, "you're the one who keeps me from drifting."

Sola blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You mean the world to me, Sola. Maybe I don't do a good job of showing that, but it's true." She attempted to sit up, wincing as she pressed her back against the wall. It wasn't easy. She had gotten so big now, every motion was labored and cumbersome. "If I seem distant, it's not because I don't care about you. It's because I've got so much else to think about, that's all."

Sola leaned forward in her seat. "Then tell me!" she pleaded. "Tell me what's going on. I hate being in the dark like this."

Padmé shook her head. "It's for your own good, Sola. I'm sorry, but I can't." She knew Sola would want to argue, but Padmé raised a hand to stop her. "We have company."

Sola spun around to see what Padmé was looking at: Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Jedi Master was standing on the other side of the glass, hands held behind his back.

"Don't just stand there," Padmé called. "Come on in."

Obi-Wan nodded to the two Temple Guards by her cell door. One of them pressed the control panel and the door slid open. In walked Kenobi, his brown robes skimming the spotless floor.

Sola got to her feet. "Why are you here?"

"I wish to speak with the senator."

He always did that. Padmé was no senator, not really, yet he refused to call her anything but.

"Go on then," Padmé said.

"How are you?"

"Well, thank you."

"Are your accommodations suitable? You told me last time it was too hot in the cell."

"That has been dealt with."

"How so?"

"I was provided a fan." Padmé gestured to the box fan in the corner of the cell.

"Ah," Obi-Wan said, nodding. "That is good."

Padmé said nothing. She was waiting for him to reveal why he was truly here. That is, what Anakin had asked of him. After an awkward moment, Obi-Wan did just that.

"Have you any thoughts about names?"

Padmé stared at him. "Names?"

"You know," Obi-Wan said, wringing his wrists. "For the children."

Padmé had no idea how to respond, but fortunately Sola was there to speak for her. "Why the hell should you care?"

Obi-Wan's eyes flicked to a livid Sola. "I… well, I was just –"

"No need to defend yourself, Obi-Wan," Padmé interrupted. "I know why you asked."

"You do?"

"Of course." With considerable effort, Padmé swung her legs off the cot. Sola stepped forward to assist her, but Padmé waved her off. "You can tell Anakin if he wants to know, he should come speak to me himself."

Obi-Wan feigned ignorance. "Anakin? No, I was just –"

"Spare me, Obi-Wan." Padmé got to her feet and pointed a finger at him, her other hand supporting the small of her back which strained under her weight. "He's being a coward. You and I both know it." She looked to the hallway where the Temple Guards were on guard. Taking a step forward, she beckoned Obi-Wan closer. The Jedi obliged. "Tell him this is his last chance," she said in his ear.

"Last chance for what?" Obi-Wan asked in a whisper.

"You know what."

Obi-Wan drew back. "Anakin will not betray the Jedi."

"I'm not asking him to."

"Then what –"

"Tell him. Please."

Obi-Wan hesitated. His eyes flitted back and forth, scrutinizing her face, searching for deceit. But there was none to be found. There never had been. For this whole time, Padmé had been entirely open with him. She had proven that she could be trusted, that she wasn't a monster.

Whether that was true or not was irrelevant.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said.

"For what?"

"For all this." He glanced at Sola. "I just wish…"

"What?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I should go."

"Obi-Wan –"

"Goodbye, Senator."

He turned on his heel and fled. Frustrated, Padmé found herself following him but Sola grabbed her shoulder.

"You should sit down."

"Fine," Padmé sighed.

With Sola's help, Padmé returned to the cot. Holding her hands over her belly, Padmé closed her eyes.

"The nerve of that man," Sola said. Her sister had an arm wrapped around her, and Padmé could feel her tension. The Force may be dulled by the Ysalamir, but she could still sense some things.

"Don't blame him," Padmé said.

"I don't," Sola said. "But still." She exhaled noisily. "Have you thought about it?"

"Thought about what?"

"You know. Names."

"Oh."

"You haven't, have you?"

Padmé smiled. "Oh, I have."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Her smile broadened. "In time."

Δ Δ Δ

As it would have it, Sola would only have to wait two days. Late in the night Padmé woke with a start when she felt a searing pain in her abdomen. At first, she thought she must have imagined it. She tried to settle back to sleep, but the pain flared up again. Padmé gasped.

"Guards!" she cried, suddenly overwhelmed with panic. "Help!"

Three medical droids arrived a few minutes later. They expeditiously began setting up the cell with the necessary equipment while simultaneously checking her vitals. All her questions went unanswered and Padmé began to grow frustrated.

"Where's Sola? I want Sola!"

In the hallway, Padmé saw the Temple Guards murmuring to each other. One of them had a comlink in hand. Were they contacting the Council? What was happening?

"We need you to relax, ma'am," a droid told her soothingly.

"No! I want my physician, damnit!"

It seemed her requests did not fall on deaf ears, after all. Fifteen minutes later Sola was rushing into the cell, her hair frayed and her face haggard with exhaustion. She must have just woken up.

"Sola!" Padmé called.

"Looks like they're coming early, isn't it?"

Padmé was about to agree when another contraction hit. Biting her tongue, she threw her head back on the pillow and made a strangled sound.

"Have you given her an epidural?"

Padmé looked up with a start. "What? No!"

"It's okay, Padmé," Sola assured her. She approached the bed and patted her shoulder. "It'll help with the pain."

"I don't want it," Padmé said between gritted teeth. "I can deal with the pain."

"Are you sure?"

Padmé nodded vigorously. "I need this pain."

Sola didn't understand, but she didn't argue with her. "Alright, then. But if you change your mind –"

"No epidural. No matter what, do you hear me?"

"Very well."

Hours stretched on and the pain only continued to mount. She felt in a daze, her vision blurry and her mind feverish. The contractions grew worse and worse, each one biting deeper than the last. She pushed whenever Sola told her to, but Padmé felt it made no difference. At one point she looked beyond the medical droids to see an assortment of Jedi standing in the hallway.

"Hey!" she barked. "Go away! Sola, make them go!"

"I can't, Padmé, I'm sorry," her sister said, grimacing. "They won't listen to me."

"Go to hell!" she shrieked. "Stop looking at me! Stop it!"

Sola got up from her spot between Padmé's legs and hurried to the door. She stepped out into the hallway and said a few words with the Jedi. Master Windu was there, she saw. As was Obi-Wan. They spoke calmly with Sola who was growing more agitated by the second. She raised her voice and Padmé could hear her say:

"She has a right to privacy."

Windu said a few words, no doubt reminding Sola that Padmé was a prisoner and thus had lost that right. But Sola wouldn't listen. She shook a fist at Windu and screamed invectives at the Jedi. Obi-Wan stopped paying attention to the argument and looked Padmé's way. She met his gaze and snarled.

"Coward!" she yelled. "Coward, Kenobi! Coward!"

Obi-Wan turned on his heel and left.

The pain was unbearable. But it was necessary. The more it hurt, the more she suffered, the better her odds. Every now and then she would glance at the Ysalamir cage. It was her enemy. She had to overcome it. And the only way to do that was through pain; extraordinary, excruciating pain.

"You're doing great, Padmé."

"How much longer?"

"Not long, I promise."

Promise.

This was his fault. Palpatine was responsible for all this. He was the reason she was in pain. She hated him! But not as much as the Jedi. Not as much as Windu!

"Go away!"

They didn't listen. Her voice was hoarse. How many times had she yelled at them? She had no sense of time anymore. Somewhere in the shadowy recesses of her muddled mind Padmé could admit she was grateful they were there. They helped her fight the pain. Her hatred for them kept her going.

"Okay, I need one last big push from you. Can you do that?"

"Just… one?" Padmé panted.

"I promise."

Futile.

"I can't. I…"

"Padmé –"

"No, no… not yet, too… too soon…"

A commotion in the hallway had her looking beyond Sola. The Jedi were parting as a cloaked figure surged through the crowd.

"Out of my way! Out of my way!"

Was it possible? No, it couldn't be…

"Skywalker! What are you doing?"

He pushed past Windu and burst into the cell. Padmé felt the breath leave her, his name escaping her lips.

"Anakin."

He was rooted in place; Breathless, terrified. She beseeched him.

"Ani, please."

Broken from his chains, Anakin approached her bedside.

"I'm here. Padmé, I'm so sorry."

He pulled up a stool and sat down next to her. Brushing the hair away from her sweaty forehead, Anakin leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"I'm so sorry."

Windu was yelling from the hallway. "Skywalker! Anakin! Get back here!"

The couple ignored him. Padmé offered her husband her hand and he didn't hesitate to take it.

"Anakin," she said again, clenching his hand with all her might.

Wincing, he said: "I'm here."

That he was. Padmé had won.

Author's Note: I'm back! Thank you all for being patient with me. Updates will continue to be intermittent, but I have no intention of abandoning this story. We're getting close to the end now, but there's still a lot yet to happen! Stay tuned everyone!