Chapter 16 – Eye of the Storm
Everything was sore. Her skin was cold and clammy with sweat. Her head was pounding and her ears were ringing. Her hair was frayed and her dignity felt much the same.
But despite that…
Padmé felt radiant.
Bundled in her arms was her baby girl. She had been cleaned and wrapped in soft linen. Pressed to her chest, her daughter felt warm and, diffused as it was by the Ysalamir, brilliantly bright in the Force. She had finally stopped crying (shrieking more like). Her loudness was conspicuous compared to her brother's silence. There had been a moment of panic when Sola took her son away, who was delivered first.
"What's wrong?" Anakin had asked, still steadfastly at her side, grimacing as she grasped his hand with an iron grip.
"He's not breathing." Her sister kept calm, but Padmé had been terrified. Had she not still had another baby to deliver, she might have lost whatever composure she had left. "Droid!" Sola barked. "Get me a catheter." A minute later her son began to cry, and a few minutes after that her daughter had been born.
"So about names." Padmé spared a glance up from her daughter to look at Anakin. He held their son in his arms, and his face was practically glowing with ebullience. "I have some ideas."
"Luke," Padmé said. "That's his name."
Anakin blinked twice. "It is?"
"And Leia." Padmé returned her gaze to the bundle in her arms. "Those are their names. I chose them."
"But –"
"But what?" Padmé didn't look at him, but she could tell Anakin was stunned. She set her jaw and tried to keep her voice from shaking. "You weren't here, Anakin. You left me."
"I know I did, but –"
"You're sorry, I know. But that's not good enough."
The air was tense, but Padmé couldn't be bothered to care. She smiled at her daughter, feeling her warmth imbued within her, a rosy hue spreading across her cheeks, her fingers and toes tingling with electric energy. It was catharsis in part, dopamine as well. Perhaps, she realized with a start, this was how her mother felt when she looked at her, when she consoled her, when she called her Celine, her daughter.
"Ani, you take her," Padmé said after a minute. "Let me have Luke."
They exchanged bundles, taking painstaking care to do so without accident. With her son secured in her arms, Padmé felt that same warmth and brightness. It dawned on her that she wasn't shying away from it like she had before. In embracing her children, she had unwittingly embraced the light. And Padmé had no qualms about that whatsoever.
"He looks a bit blue," Padmé said.
"Let me see." Sola walked over to the cot and leaned forward to get a closer look. "Don't worry," she said. "It's not uncommon for a baby not to breathe right away after birth. His color's already coming back."
"You think?"
"For sure."
Sola smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
"Thank you," Padmé said. "For everything."
"Think nothing of it."
"But I do. Sola, you were there for me when no one else was. I owe you everything."
It was a cruel thing to say with Anakin right there. But it was meant to be cruel. She wanted him to feel guilty. She needed him to feel guilty.
"Anakin," she said, turning to her husband, "this is Sola."
"We've met," Anakin said. He sounded gruff, surly. Perhaps he was jealous.
"I know you have," Padmé said. "She's my sister."
For a second, Anakin had no reaction. Maybe he didn't understand. But then his jaw went slack and his eyes bulged wide. "Wait, she's your –"
"Yes."
"But Obi-Wan –"
"He didn't know. None of the Jedi know." Her eyes darted to the windows. "Until now, I suppose."
On that subject, Anakin swallowed visibly. He too looked toward the window where a smattering of Jedi were still watching, glowering at Anakin, the traitor. "Padmé, I…"
"Yes?"
Anakin regained his resolve and looked her in the eye. "I'm going to fix this. I promise."
Everyone was chalk-full of promises, weren't they? A promise meant nothing. It was, in and of itself, an oxymoron. Permanence was but an illusion; all things would eventually be broken or otherwise decayed. A promise was thus invariably an exercise in futility.
"You can't, Anakin. Not alone."
"No, you don't understand. I have a plan."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I –" Leia wiggled in his arms and Anakin froze.
"Perhaps you should discuss this sometime else," Sola proposed, or rather, instructed. She stood up and crossed the cot toward Anakin's side. "May I hold her?"
Anakin drew away from her, suspicion etched across his face. "Why?"
"Do it, Anakin," Padmé said, perhaps too harshly. "She's her aunt, you know."
"Is she?"
Sola bristled. "Do you doubt me?"
"How come Padmé never told me about you?"
"I was taken from my family as an infant," Padmé said. "I didn't meet them until just a few months ago."
"You were taken? By who?" But even as he asked it, Anakin seemed to realize.
"By Sidious," Padmé said.
The name sent a chill through the room. Anakin stared at her, and she got the distinct impression that he no longer recognized her. The warmth with which Luke had blessed her was dampened, an odious sensation replacing that invigorating one.
"Let Sola hold Leia," Padmé said, her tone just short of an order. "Please," she added for good measure.
Anakin obliged, albeit grudgingly. "Thank you," Sola said, a triumphant smirk only partially suppressed. She took Leia from Anakin's arms and held her to her chest.
"Be careful," Anakin said.
"I know how to hold a baby," Sola said, frowning.
Anakin bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something stupid. It must have taken a colossal effort, Padmé was sure. Anakin could be exceedingly competitive and combative at times, especially when it came to her.
"Anakin," Padmé said. "Come here."
He picked up his stool and dragged it closer. Draping an arm around her, he peered down at the baby in her arms, at their son.
"This is surreal," he said, whispering.
"I know," Padmé said. "But let's just savor it. While we still can."
The new parents were sobered. A specter loomed over them, its shadow inescapable and daunting. In this moment, this little sliver of time, they could revel in bliss, in happiness, in love. But they both knew it would come to an end, and soon. The Jedi were just outside, watching. And beyond the Temple's gates was Sidious, waiting in preparation, poised to strike. The world around them was dark, a swirling tempest, uncontrollable and entropic. But right now Padmé was in the eye of the storm, and she wanted to stay there as long as she could.
"He's beautiful," she said.
Anakin reached out with a single finger. With tender care, he traced his son's pudgy face.
"Here," came Sola's voice. "Take her too."
Padmé looked up. "Can I?" she asked. "Hold them both, I mean?"
"Of course," Sola said. "It just takes some logistics, that's all."
As her sister helped her figure out how best to hold the infants, Anakin stood up from his seat, his face hardening into steel, hands balled into fists. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he strode toward the windows, gaze fixated on something just out of Padmé's line of sight.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"To offer my congratulations."
It was Obi-Wan. While his message was warm, his tone was anything but. He sounded grim, dire almost.
"Is that so?" Anakin said.
"That's fine, thank you, Sola," Padmé said. Her sister stepped aside, allowing her to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway. Their eyes met and Obi-Wan bowed his head.
"Are you well?" he asked.
"Quite," Padmé replied.
"And the children?"
"Healthy."
"Good."
Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. "Don't look so belligerent," he said. "You have no quarrel with me."
"Don't I?"
Obi-Wan folded his arms. "I told you I would support you, no matter what."
"You did," Anakin assented.
"So let's talk, shall we?"
Padmé sighed. "Do we have to?"
"I'm afraid so," Obi-Wan said.
"The Jedi want to take the children, don't they?" Sola asked, her voice shrill.
"I am sure of it," Obi-Wan said.
"You speak as if you are not one," Padmé said.
"I am a Jedi. That does not mean my views are concordant with that of the Council."
"But you're on the Council," Anakin said.
"I am but one member."
"Then convince them! Tell them none of us did anything wrong!"
"It's not that simple."
"Yes it is!"
"Contain yourself, Anakin," Obi-Wan said sternly. "You have blatantly violated the Jedi Code. Nothing I can say or do will exculpate you of that crime."
"What about me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Is there something I can do?"
"Anakin –" Padmé tried to say.
"Surely there's something we can work out."
"I don't know," Obi-Wan said.
"Anakin!" Padmé cried. He spun to her. "This is not your responsibility."
He made a sound halfway between a gasp and a laugh. "Of course it is!" he insisted.
"You mustn't involve yourself in this."
"Why the hell not?"
Padmé looked at Obi-Wan and hesitated. His eyes turned narrow.
"Answer the question, Senator," he requested. "Do you have plans of your own?"
"I will not speak to you," she said. "You are my enemy, Kenobi."
"I am not –"
"You are with them." She nodded toward the observant Jedi in the hallway. "They want to take my children from me."
"Not if you choose to cooperate."
Padmé scoffed. "Cooperate? Really?"
"Yes, Padmé. Cooperate." Obi-Wan tried to enter the cell, but he was stopped when Anakin stepped in his path.
"That's as close as you get," he growled.
Obi-Wan raised his hands. "I am trying to help you. Both of you." He looked at Padmé with pleading eyes. "Tell us who Sidious is, and all of this can end."
Padmé shook her head. "Leave, Kenobi."
"Padmé –"
"You heard her," Anakin snapped. "Leave. Now."
Obi-Wan's hands sank to his sides. "I do hope you reconsider." With that, he turned on his heel and left, the ray shields activating behind him with a sibilant whisper.
Padmé felt a headache building, but with her arms wrapped around her children, she was unable to rub her temples and alleviate the throbbing sensation. Instead, her head sagged forward and she hugged her children tighter to her chest.
"I'm going to do what I have to do, Padmé," Anakin said.
"No," she said, feebly.
"They're my children too!" She looked up and saw him gesticulating at the Jedi. "You heard me right! Stop your gawking!"
Padmé winced. "Anakin, please. Stop yelling."
Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I choose you, Padmé. I choose you and our children. And I'm going to do what I must to keep you safe."
"I am safe," Padmé said, mustering as much urgency as she was able. "You don't understand, Anakin. I'm safer than anyone. You're the one in danger."
Anakin didn't understand. Of course he didn't. But she couldn't explain it to him. Not without the Jedi hearing.
"Please," she said. "Don't do it, Anakin. It doesn't have to be this way."
He approached her cot with long strides. Kneeling down, he cupped her cheek. "I'm not afraid, Padmé. Not anymore."
Padmé shook her head. "You will be."
It seemed for once she had gotten through to him. Anakin's eyes, formerly full of resolve, flashed with surprise. He stared at her with his lips parted.
Please listen to me. Please understand.
"Padmé, I –"
The ray shields deactivated and Anakin swung around. Peering around her husband's figure, she saw Windu, Yoda, and several other Council members entering the cell.
"Come with us, Skywalker," Windu said. He kept a hand on the lightsaber dangling from his belt. "Don't make this difficult."
Padmé knew Anakin was going to make this difficult, so she intervened before he could. "Do it, Anakin," she said. "There's no point fighting."
He turned to her, his expression livid. "Of course I'm going to fight!" he said.
"Not here," Padmé said. "Not now. Please." His hand, which had been inching to his belt, froze.
"Skywalker," said Windu. "With us. Now."
"What are you going to do with them?" Anakin asked, his eyes roaming over his children.
"Come with us, and we will discuss," said Ki-Adi Mundi, his voice only a fraction less hostile than Windu's.
"Much to discuss, have we," Yoda added.
Anakin nodded mechanically. "Very well," he intoned. He pulled his hand away from his weapon.
"Good," said Windu. "Now, if you would –"
But rather than turning to the Jedi, Anakin took a step to her. He bowed down and kissed her chastely on the lips, much to the horror of the watching Masters. "It will all work out," he said, pulling away.
Padmé watched him walk away, flanked on either side by the Jedi. Sola came to her side and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Anakin was right. One way or another, this would all work out.
But that exactly was what she was so afraid of.
Δ Δ Δ
Padmé's cot had been returned to its typical spot against the wall. The lights were off, and she could only make out the jagged outlines of her cell. A few meters away were two hovering cribs, set up directly underneath the Ysalamir cage. Luke and Leia were both asleep. Padmé knew she should take advantage of this reprieve to get some rest herself, but she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes. She stared at the cribs, unblinking.
For now, the Jedi had allowed her to keep them. But she knew this was a temporary arrangement. She didn't know how long it would last. A month? A week? A day? The time would come when the Jedi entered her cell and took them away from her. For good, they would imagine. And when that happened, they would seal their own fate.
The room felt cold. No, it wasn't cold. It was icy, frozen, biting. She swung her legs off the cot and looked around. Her teeth chattered loudly and her skin flared with goosebumps. Something was wrong. Something felt out of place.
She stood up and approached the cribs. Her children were peaceful, neither seemed to be afflicted with whatever Padmé was enduring. Of course they weren't. They were bastions of warmth, beacons of light. They fended off the darkness. They repelled the chill.
They're beautiful.
Padmé spun around with a yelp. "Who's there?" she called, voice trembling.
Do you need to ask?
No, she didn't. She could never mistake that voice.
"Master?" she whispered. "Where –"
The shadows began to stir. Darkness itself was swirling, congealing. Padmé watched in horror, her whole body paralyzed, her breath caught in the back of her throat which itself felt frozen.
Did you think I wouldn't come to offer congratulations?
Smokey tendrils coalesced into a nightmarish figure. It undulated and flickered like a flame, but without any of a flame's warmth. It was hooded, faceless, shapeless.
"How?" Padmé asked.
With great difficulty.
The figure drifted closer. Padmé spread her arms out wide in front of the cribs.
"Stay where you are!" she demanded.
Her master ignored her. Sweeping past her outstretched arms, the tendrils surged to her children. Padmé was powerless to stop him. But there was nothing for her stop. When the darkness attempted to plunge toward the cribs, it seemed to dissipate, the black smoke reduced to wisps, enervated and powerless.
They are strong.
The weakened tendrils retreated to the shadows. There they reconfigured into a more discernible shape. It looked a bit more like her master now, although it wavered in and out like a hologram with poor signal. His face twisted, contorted, rippled. It was disorienting and disturbing to look at, so Padmé chose not to. She turned away from him toward her children.
"Why are you here?"
The time is upon us, my dear.
Padmé swallowed hard. "Will Anakin be safe?"
If you do not interfere.
Padmé spun around. "I would never!"
Wouldn't you?
She kept her face unreadable, or so she hoped.
"I can't lose him. I can't lose any of them."
And you won't.
She thought she could make out the hint of a smile on her master's eldritch face. His figure dissolved again and a billowing arm extended toward her. Padmé was deathly still, eyes wide as the smoke brushed her cheek, a trenchant sensation of freezing cold tracing her face. Was this supposed to reassure her? Because in a way – a bizarre way – it almost did.
I will not fail you...
…If you do not fail me.
And just like that, he was gone. A thawing warmth returned to the room, but Padmé was still shivering. Her legs felt hollow and her heart was hammering. She stared off into space where her master had just been, simultaneously terrified and exhilarated, apprehensive and optimistic.
The eye of the storm was tumult in and of itself.
How she wished for this storm to finally end.
Author's Note: Thank you all for reading and for your many kind reviews last chapter. I know it's taking longer for chapters to come out, but that's not for lack of interest in this project. Far from it; I would love to devote more time to writing it, but I just can't at the moment. The semester comes to an end in a few weeks, so soon I'll get the opportunity to write freely. I'm super excited to share the conclusion with you all!