Naboo Rose

by Girlbender875

AU. Padmé, her adopted brother Obi-Wan, and her sister-in-law Siri walk a tightrope teetering between their roles as Rebels in the Imperial Senate and execution. To keep prying eyes off of their covert operations, Padmé must woo the most emotionless man the Empire has known: Darth Vader. This sends everyone into a world of intrigue, power plays, whirlwind romance, and more.

51. Reunion

Hey guys, sorry for the wait, my summer has been crazier than expected. Apologies for any typos, I try to edit these chapters but inevitably with their length errors will fall through the cracks.

---

The air was chilly, but Siri woke up sweaty. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, and she bit back a moan of exasperation. She'd been nauseous for a good part of the day yesterday, and she'd hoped sleep would eliminate it, but apparently that wasn't the case. Blasted morning sickness.

Sighing, she sat up, letting the thick cool air cling to her bare arms. The heater made it uncomfortably warm in the tent, and so she quickly slipped out of her sleeping bag and headed for the exit. She glanced at Obi-Wan and Anakin for a brief moment and saw that both men were fast asleep, and she smiled a little before leaving.

Slipping on her boots outside, Siri stretched and tried to ignore her nausea as she glanced around the vicinity. A flock of nunas were picking around the area, eating some local plant life, but they all stood straight when they saw her. The wingless birds watched her carefully and when they realized she wasn't approaching, they steadily returned to their task. Apart from them there really wasn't much else going on, though the sound of multiple animals and insects was so loud Siri was surprised it hadn't woken the boys up.

Siri sat on the ground, ignoring the dampness of the dirt beneath her, and leaned against a rock, letting the cold seep into her bones and push her discomfort away. Eventually her nausea dissipated uneventfully, much to her relief, and it was at that point that she started wondering what time it was – Obi-Wan had set an alarm, after all, and he still wasn't awake.

Rising, Siri reentered the tent and carefully poked Obi-Wan, watching Anakin to ensure she didn't wake him accidentally. Her husband stirred sluggishly and then slowly opened his eyes with a sniffle. He was going to speak when Siri put a finger to his mouth and motioned to Anakin. Then she pointed to her wrist. What time is it?

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes and slipped out of the tent with her, putting on his boots before referencing his chronometer. "A little after eight."

"Well, Anakin won't like that," Siri remarked with little concern as she smiled at her husband. They all needed the sleep, so she was grateful Obi-Wan had thought to turn his alarm off. "Since we have some time, then, care to clean up?"

Obi-Wan looked around him and shuddered. "Bathing in swamp water doesn't sound pleasant."

"We'll filter it and just sponge bathe," Siri shrugged. "Come on."

"Siri, it's cold."

"Oh stop complaining," she laughed, grabbing her husband's hand.

The couple decided it was prudent to remain partly decent in case anything happened or Anakin awoke, but they still removed their tops. As they cleaned up, Obi-Wan asked, "Do you feel… different today?"

Siri paused, glancing at him. "Different how?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan shook his head. "When you woke me up, it felt like there was… something else in my mind. Like some void had been filled, like some headache I didn't even know I had was gone."

"Obi, we've had a lot of crazy things going on," Siri offered uncertainly. "I mean, when Anakin finally broke down the Force suddenly started feeling really different, and I could actually kind of sense how he felt. Maybe what you're feeling today is just because he's hurt."

"You mean you don't sense anything at all?"

Siri paused, prodding the Force. Now that he mentioned it, something did feel different, but not necessarily new. It was as if something she'd stopped noticing had left and then returned. "Well… something does feel… odd. But… whatever it is, it isn't threatening. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Obi-Wan sighed and then a shiver ran through his body as he squeezed some more water from the sponge over his shoulders. Siri sat beside him and hugged him, offering warmth, and he leaned into the embrace.

"Give it time. Someday we'll find a massive hot spa to share." Siri said with a wink and a quick kiss on the lips.

"We could go to the spas at Thecine," Obi-Wan remarked. "If we're planning on going to the Lake Country to hide."

Siri laughed. "You're getting bold."

"I'm freezing."

The Force flared up with awareness, but Siri missed it for a moment, though Obi-Wan turned, suddenly looking flustered as a voice said, "Your alarm didn't go off."

Siri yelped, covering her chest with her arms. "What the hell are you doing, Anakin?!"

Anakin blinked. "I'm… standing…?"

Siri groaned, wrestling down her annoyance. Getting pissed at him wouldn't do any good since he obviously was completely clueless about common courtesy. "Gods above… go back in the tent so I can put a shirt on."

Anakin grumpily limped back into the tent. Obi-Wan and Siri both sighed.

"One of these days, I'm not going to be able to stay the perfect calm Jedi and I'm going to kill him." She grumbled.

Amusement fluttered through her bond with her husband. "When, pray tell, did you become the perfect calm Jedi?"

Siri shoved her husband away. "Keep an eye out so I can finish bathing, you shaak."

Obi-Wan complied with a cheeky smile and stood guard. When Siri was finished cleaning herself up entirely, she scrubbed some of her clothes clean and then reluctantly put them on while they were still damp (Force knew Anakin wouldn't wait for them to dry and Siri had no intention of sitting around naked waiting for the boy to come out of the tent and complain about her taking too long). When she was done she let Obi-Wan do the same thing and she reentered the tent only to find Anakin wasn't there.

Startled, Siri ran back out to her husband. "Obi, Anakin's gone."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I know. He left while I was keeping watch."

"Where did he go?" Siri asked, feeling irritated. What was that idiot thinking, wandering off with the injuries he had?

"I assume he went walking."

"Like we're not going to be doing that all day? Why didn't you stop him?"

"Because no amount of arguing will stop him," Obi-Wan answered as he finished up. "Walking is a daily ritual for him, and it's what keeps him stable."

Siri ran a hand through her damp hair, feeling out for the boy through the Force. He hadn't gotten far. "You'd think he'd let it go when he's got a sprained ankle and has to walk across part of a continent. He'd better head back pretty soon, he needs to bathe and then we can head out."

As if on cue, Anakin did reappear shortly after, aware that he couldn't walk as far and had little time to do so. He'd thankfully taken his crutches for the walk, and he looked a little less irritable upon his return. Obi-Wan and Siri convinced him to clean up before they headed out, and he agreed on the condition that they didn't stop for breakfast, lunch, or dinner – they would eat on the move. The Jedi reluctantly acquiesced.

Siri packed up the tent as Anakin headed off to bathe, and she glanced at Obi-Wan. Go with him. He's still hurt.

Her husband nodded and followed Anakin, who sensed him and looked his way. "Help Siri break everything down. Then we can leave sooner."

"Siri can take care of it on her own, Anakin, you know that," Obi-Wan reminded him, crossing his arms. "I'm just keeping watch."

Anakin looked like he wanted to argue, as if he knew Obi-Wan was only there to babysit him, but he couldn't counter the logic that keeping one's guard up was essential. The young man reluctantly looked away, and he slowly removed his belt and dark brown tabard, pausing briefly while doing so, and Obi-Wan felt the Force pinch slightly with pain. Walking over, he helped Anakin remove the cloth, garnering an exasperated look from the young man.

"I'm fine," Anakin said pointedly.

"Yes, you're always fine," Obi-Wan quipped before reaching for Anakin's black tunic next. "How's your head?"

"It's fine."

Obi-Wan gave the boy a hard look, his eyes examining the blood stains on Anakin's forehead. "And what exactly would you define as not fine?"

"If I were unable to function it would be problematic, but that isn't the case."

Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin's definitions were difficult to understand sometimes, but he supposed he'd have to figure them out. Apparently the boy only considered something trouble when he was completely compromised. That line of logic would get him killed fast. How had he survived up to this point without Obi-Wan or Siri?

"It's a miracle you haven't gotten yourself killed," he voiced aloud.

Anakin didn't comment. Obi-Wan looked at the young man's bare chest and grimaced when he saw a massive purple and black bruise that was spread across a fair amount of Anakin's left side. That must have been where he cracked his rib. "Can you breathe well enough?"

The young man paused and nodded. After watching Anakin for a few minutes, Obi-Wan decided to leave him be, knowing he'd get less of a fuss out of Anakin that way, though he did help the boy get his clothes back on when he was finished, and he nearly hissed when he saw how swollen Anakin's right ankle was.

"You won't be able to get that back in your boot," Obi-Wan said, trying not to stare too long at the ankle. Just looking at it set his teeth on edge.

Anakin tipped his head in agreement and only shoed one foot before hobbling to a tree stump and sitting down. Using the Force, he summoned one of the pillows from the tent before Siri could put it away and wrapped it around his ankle. Obi-Wan quickly caught on to what he was doing and provided a tie that they'd used to help roll up the sleeping bag, and in a minute Anakin had splinted the limb. Then he rose and grabbed the crutches. Without any prompting, Obi-Wan referenced his map (and was briefly surprised at how much ground they'd covered yesterday) and then led the trio on their long journey for the day as Siri handed out ration bars.

---

Having gone to bed close to five in the morning—and probably having not been able to fall asleep for a few hours after that—the Naberrie family spent most of the next day in bed. The only exception to this was Darred, who had awoken when his three-year-old daughter had run around the house wondering why everyone was still asleep and why Aunt Padmé was there when everyone said she would never ever be visiting again.

Al had been sadly amused by the little girl's confusion, but he'd slipped out of the house shortly after Darred had risen. He hadn't slept all that well and didn't feel comfortable resting in the family's guest quarters. While he'd said that it was unlikely Imperials would be watching them, he didn't want to take any chances, and it had been incredibly awkward standing around while the Naberries had their tearful reunion. Al sighed, leaning against a railing on one of the city's bridges over the river.

Theed was beautiful in the snow. The sun shone brightly, and the snow that blanketed the architecture sparkled in its light. Pedestrians walked to and fro, busy with their own lives and burdens. Children tossed snowballs back and forth with cheers and screams. Best of all, there were no stormtroopers in sight.

Al had actually located an Imperial squad, but it was based at the palace. He'd scouted the area long enough to learn that they'd been stationed there prior to Palpatine's death and had just been patrolling without any direct orders apart from maintaining order. They'd likely been put there by Vader himself after he'd eliminated the Rebel agents on Naboo so long ago.

That in itself was bizarre to consider.

As the sun steadily set, Al made his way back to the Naberrie home to see if everyone was finally awake. He didn't want to interrupt Padmé's time with her family, but they really needed to leave soon. He wanted to get to Ghanu'jivo as quickly as possible and regroup, and then he wanted to get Obi-Wan and Siri out of Ferrasco. It was his own blasted fault they were stuck there, after all. It seemed he was responsible for most of the Naberrie family's separations lately.

When Al finally reached their house, he saw Padmé outside with her sister, Sola, and her niece, Ryoo. Al lingered in the archway leading up to the house, not wanting to interrupt the precious little time Padmé had. However, she seemed to notice him and said something to Sola, who took Ryoo and went inside. Padmé then approached Al.

"Thank you," she said sincerely when she reached him. "Thank you for bringing me home."

Al felt his heart clench and he strained to smile. "No problem."

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," Padmé continued uncertainly.

"What is it?"

"It's about my handmaiden, Cordé," she sighed. "I wanted to pay my respects. Would you accompany me? My parents will have a heart attack if I go alone. I'm humoring them."

Al shifted. They didn't have time to run every errand possible while they were here, but he knew that Cordé had been the one to die in Padmé's stead, so he didn't argue. "Sure. Where are we going?"

"It's on the edge of the city, a bridge between the Funeral Temple and the Livet Tower. They would have cast her ashes into the river."

Al nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

The two walked in silence, their faces hidden in shadow as the orange sunset shone on their hoods. The walk wasn't too long, thankfully, and the view from the aforementioned bridge was breathtaking. Padmé walked to the edge, staring out at the river and ensuing waterfall. Al remained towards the entrance to the Funeral Temple, watching her and keeping a careful eye out, allowing her the time she needed. After a few minutes, however, she started to shed tears and hiccup softly, and Al couldn't stand just watching someone he cared about cry.

Sighing, he walked over to Padmé and put a hand on her shoulder, and at the touch she turned to him and hugged him. Al held her tightly, letting her get it out of her system.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," Al immediately said. "You've had a lot to endure and lost a lot."

"Cordé, Sabé, Salkende… everyone's gone… I… I know I should be grateful; I have my family… but…"

"Hey, it makes sense to be upset," Al reasoned. "Cordé and Sabé were your friends. Salkende lost a lot of innocent people. Obi-Wan and Siri are still in danger. There's a lot to be scared about. But I know you'll be fine. You're brave. You're braver than I could ever be."

Padmé laughed shakily, pulling away. "How is that the case? Don't tell me you think you're a coward."

Al smiled, looking away from Padmé, out into the scenery beyond the city. "I may not be a coward, but I'm close. I didn't join the fight against the Alliance immediately; I was only dragged in when Kuna called me to bring supplies for him. You, on the other hand, dove right in full throttle. And on top of that, you… you did something I never could."

Padmé watched him curiously and confusedly. "What do you mean?"

Al sighed, leaning against the rail and turning further away from her. "You went home. You went home after they thought you'd died. You were brave enough to give them hope, even if something might happen in the future. I can't do that."

Padmé furrowed her brow, and she took a step towards him, putting her hand on his arm. "Al… what happened with your family?"

He wasn't sure he really wanted to talk about it, but he himself had brought it up. He didn't realize Padmé hadn't known – Siri and Obi-Wan were aware of the situation, but he supposed they never really had time nor reason to tell Padmé. "Eleven years ago, I was adamant about going to college. I tried everything in my power, but the Empire had laws in place by then that prevented it because I wasn't Human. So I tried to go around the laws with loopholes, I even tried lying about my species and hiding my cranial horns, but it didn't work. The more I tried, the more I saw the disparities and the more I realized college admission was the least of any non-Human's concerns. So I tried to help non-Humans in general, tried to do anything I could to get us some blasted rights. But after a while of hitting a duracrete wall, I just… got sick of it. I was disgusted with society in general. Nobody was doing anything to stop the injustice. They were just living with it, complacent. So I started stealing, breaking things, basically rebelling in my own teenage way.

"Eventually I met a bonafide criminal, and she took me to Nar Shaddaa and got me introduced to all sorts of crime lords and syndicates and insanity. I got into smuggling, and I made my way from there. But when I left my homeworld, I never told my family; I didn't want them to know I'd become a criminal. I kind of hoped they would just assume I'd died somehow, move on and not worry about me anymore. It was childish, but it's allowed me to do some good now, I guess. In either case… my family still doesn't know, and it's been a decade.

"I just… I can't go home. For one thing, now more than ever I would bring trouble to them. I mean, I'm working with the Alliance; it would be careless to make contact with them. But more importantly, it's been ten years… to do this to them now, especially with the possibility of dying still pretty high… I don't know. I'm too scared to do it."

"Al. Look at me."

Almusian reluctantly turned to face Padmé, who was watching him firmly. He'd seen that look on HoloNet when she was about to make a passionate speech. It would have been funny if he weren't feeling so wretched.

"You are one of the bravest men I know," she said. "You've been indispensable to the Alliance, you've helped me and my family so many times, saved us so many times. You're a blasted hero, Al, and don't you ever think otherwise."

Her words touched more deeply than he'd expected, and he almost choked up a little. Blushing, Al took a step away from her. "T-thank you, Padmé."

Padmé smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, Al."

The two stood there for a while, Al silently struggling against the tears that were threatening to sting in his eyes. In the underworld crying was akin to signing a death warrant; it was a sign of frailty, weakness, inability to handle a situation. He'd never been particularly sensitive, but he wasn't averse to tears when he'd started out as a criminal, and he'd learned quickly. Now it was automatic to vehemently fight any attempt at emotionalism that didn't include swearing, threatening, shooting, or (in his case where the Empire was concerned) panicking. He wasn't sure whether it would be prudent to let it out here, but eventually he decided it wasn't, so he pulled away from the hug, grateful but eager to get away from the source of the tears. Al blew out a quick breath and cleared his throat. "So. About your family… I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but we can't stay here much longer."

Padmé nodded. "I know. They're preparing this massive dinner right now to celebrate, so I was hoping to bring up the idea of going into hiding while we were all together at the table. Maybe… maybe we could take them to the base."

Al glanced around, but the bridge was deserted, as well as its conjoining towers. "The base? You want to uproot them like that?"

"If it's a choice between temporarily being uprooted and being killed, then yes, Al, I think it's prudent."

Al laughed. "Fair enough. Well, you can bring it up at dinner, I guess. I'll be at the Beauty making sure everything's still fine."

"Al. You have to be there for dinner," Padmé said. "My family will track you down if you're not."

The idea of the Naberrie clan hunting for him was both amusing and unnerving. Al shrugged. "This is a celebration for you, Padmé… a family celebration. It'd be weird if I was there."

"You saved me. As far as we're concerned, you're part of the family." Padmé told him with a gentle smile.

Al looked at her, stunned, and he blew out yet another breath to hastily swat the tears away. "Well… okay. I guess we should go, then."

Padmé held out an inviting arm, her face beaming. "Yeah, we should. Come on. Oh, by the way, there's another celebratory note: apparently Sola's pregnant."

Al smiled as he took her arm and they entered the Funeral Temple. "That's great! Siri's kid will have a cousin her age."

Padmé froze, startling Al. "Do you… do you think they know Siri's pregnant, considering what they said about Obi and Siri leaving?"

Al bit his lip. "Eh… probably not." The two stared at each other, and Al added, "Well, this dinner just got a whole lot more interesting."

Padmé laughed, and the two cheerfully made their way to the house.

---

Obi-Wan gasped at how cold it had gotten. He was hugging himself as he walked, his teeth chattering. The swamp had been thinning out for the past hour or so, and he was certain they were close to the edge. Surprisingly close, actually – he'd estimated it would take them roughly three days to get to Theed, but at this rate, they would arrive tonight, albeit very late.

He glanced up ahead. They'd taken their previous arrangement from yesterday where Siri, having been given directions, led the group while Obi-Wan brought up the rear, keeping a careful eye on Anakin. The young man had been doing well today, maintaining a steady, brisk clip. The sleep had done him some good, though he was growing steadily paler as the day progressed. Obi-Wan was considering setting up camp once they reached the edge of the swampland. They had a few kilometers of rolling plains beyond that before they finally reached Theed, and after all the rough terrain they'd crossed it might be too much for him in one day.

"I see the edge!" Siri called from ahead, running forward. Anakin and Obi-Wan maintained their pace, reaching her a minute or so later.

Obi-Wan blinked profusely as he was immediately blinded by the bright orange sun kissing the horizon, already partly hidden by the hills. The ground was muddy, speckled with pale green and yellow patches of grass wherever the snow had managed to liquefy, though certain parts of the plains were covered in almost a third of a meter of snow since the shade prevented the sun from ever melting it. This was going to be a slippery walk to say the least, but they were finally out of that wretched swamp. Obi-Wan could handle climbing hills if it meant he didn't have to worry about dense humidity and insects biting him at every other turn.

"We're not far," Obi-Wan commented. "But this might be a good stopping point."

Siri glanced at Obi-Wan, catching his reasoning, and looked at Anakin, but the man would have none of it.

"If we're almost there, we must continue. This place is too exposed to camp for the night," he stated.

The two Jedi debated the matter silently. Although eager to reach their destination, neither was particularly thrilled with continuing today. They knew both Siri and Anakin needed more rest than they'd gotten. But Anakin did bring up a fair point, one Obi-Wan was remiss to ignore; they were very exposed out here, and though there really was no one nearby, it left him feeling vulnerable. They would blend in far better when they reached shelter. Eventually they decided to press onward, though at a slower clip.

The sun steadily set as they continued, and Siri tossed ration bars to the other two. They spent their time as they'd spent most of the day: walking without speaking. Words required too much energy at this point, though Obi-Wan and Siri would toss the occasional remark back and forth. By nightfall the swamps were barely in sight, and Obi-Wan felt like he was lost in a vast sea of grass, snow, and mud. He referenced his map a million times, growing steadily more dismayed at seeing nothing but plains. Somehow the swamp was less unsettling.

Siri eventually turned her head over her shoulder. "We are going the right way, correct?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan answered automatically, having just checked that for himself.

"Any idea what our ETA will be?"

"At this pace, probably another six or seven hours."

Siri bit back a groan, simply nodding and marching ahead. They'd already been walking for eight hours, after all.

As time passed, the cold started to numb Obi-Wan's nose, ears, and fingers. His feet had long since stopped feeling anything apart from throbbing, and his knees ached. The occasional shiver would rage through his body and he would hiss, frost emitting from his mouth and nose. Siri remained fairly stalwart, hugging herself but not making a sound as she walked. Anakin was similar. The good news was that with several moons out, they didn't need to use head lights to find their way; the snow glowed, illuminating everything.

Obi-Wan eventually looked at his chronometer just as he felt like the cold had finally seeped into his bones. It was one hour to midnight. They'd been out of the swamp for about five hours. They'd been walking for thirteen. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, trying to focus on the Force, willing it to give him the strength to continue. As he did so, he felt his wife's determination glowing ahead of him, and he felt that odd sensation he'd noticed in the morning, but he was far too tired to worry about it at this point. His connection to Anakin was automatic now, so he didn't bother prodding the young man, but instead immediately sensed heaviness and some pain. Opening his eyes, he gasped as he nearly collided with Anakin, who had abruptly stopped. Having sensed the commotion, Siri also stopped and turned.

Anakin was standing at the top of one of the many hills in the grasslands, his head lowered, his eyes closed, and his body about to collapse under its own weight. The only thing holding him at this point were the crutches. Obi-Wan didn't sense any activity in the Force; the boy was too tired to even manage that at this point. He was just standing there, breathing calmly, trying to regain his energy without attracting attention.

We should have just camped for the night, Obi-Wan thought worriedly; they would have had more cover at the edge of the swamp than out here in the middle where there were no trees, no structures, nothing to hide them. They couldn't stop here. Perhaps they could just take a break.

Siri walked back to the two men. "Anakin?"

Anakin didn't speak and didn't move. Obi-Wan sensed the boy feebly attempt to latch onto the Force, possibly to get some strength back, but it failed miserably. Obi-Wan glanced at his wife to see her looking haggard, her cheeks, ears, and nose flushed, her lips slightly blue, her fingers swollen, and bags under her blue eyes. He figured he probably looked similar.

Anakin's state might have worried Obi-Wan more if he weren't so blasted exhausted. As it was, he was barely able to concentrate. They had to stop. "We… can't camp here for the night… but we can t-take a respite."

Siri agreed with a nod, stepping towards Anakin as Obi-Wan did so as well. Anakin's head shot up so he could watch them under a determined furrowed brow, which was probably the only form of protest they would get out of him, and he tensed slightly as they replaced his crutches with themselves, slinging his arms over their shoulders and slowly helping him sit. The ground was frozen, and Obi-Wan moaned as the damp cold settled into his trousers while Siri gritted her teeth.

The air was still, and the trio nearly fell asleep where they sat before Obi-Wan's chronometer beeped obnoxiously, having been set to do so ten minutes later. Too tired to even complain, they stood and continued their journey for another half hour before Anakin stopped again. Siri looked desperately at Obi-Wan, unable to think straight, and so Obi-Wan paused and gave himself a minute to get his bearings before walking over to Anakin. "Anakin… it's time to rest."

Anakin exhaled shakily, twitching his head from side to side in refusal. Obi-Wan would have marveled at his stubbornness if he were actually thinking straight. "Don't argue. You can't go any farther."

"We can't camp," Anakin slowly whispered.

"I know," he agreed, prompting Anakin to look at him confusedly. The Force rippled around them, and Obi-Wan took another deep breath, pushing himself even harder, forcing himself to handle what was to come. He had to for his family. Slowly reaching forward, he wrapped one arm around Anakin's back, just under his arms, and bent down and wrapped the other under his knees. Anakin recognized the maneuver from last night and tried to move, but only stumbled. Siri approached as well, having gathered enough strength to put her hand on Anakin's forehead and put him to sleep in a heartbeat. Anakin's body relaxed, and he grew heavier, but Obi-Wan was prepared, quickly hoisting him into his arms as Siri grabbed the crutches and broke them down, putting them on her back.

Grabbing the map from one of the pouches on Obi-Wan's belt, Siri examined it to figure out where they were. Obi-Wan watched her with some hope, but mostly dread; he was certain she would say they were still hours away, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear that right now.

The glowing smile on her face wasn't what he expected. "We're three kilometers away. I bet we'll be able to see Theed soon."

Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. Were they truly that close? He looked around wildly as if Theed would already be in sight; based on what Siri had said, it wasn't too far-fetched to hope.

And off in the distance… he did. He did see a faint glow indicating a city. They were almost there.

"Thank the Force," he muttered.

With newfound stamina, the couple walked briskly despite their burdens, and soon enough Obi-Wan saw the distant outline of the buildings, heard the roaring of the waterfall.

After one hundred ninety kilometers and thirty hours of walking, they had finally reached Theed.

Neither Jedi said a word as they approached the city entrance, having no energy left to expound upon it, but they could still sense each other's relief and excitement. They entered the city almost reverently before rushing to the nearest homeless shelter available. As they walked through the streets, their energy dwindled dramatically, relief slowing their muscles since they knew they were on the home stretch. Anakin became infinitely heavier than Obi-Wan could handle, but he held onto the boy nonetheless. Siri eventually found the shelter first, knocking almost frantically.

The droid on duty approached the transparent entrance at a painfully slow rate, but as soon as it saw Obi-Wan was carrying someone, it hastened its steps slightly. Opening the door, it immediately asked, "Do you want me to call the medics? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, thank you," Siri answered, her voice rough. "We just need to rest."

The droid nodded. "Very well. The bunk rooms are upstairs. Men's is the first door on the left, women's is the second. If you want a family room, we have those on the right. If the door's open, then the room's available. Breakfast is served from seven to nine, and you must vacate the premises by ten. You may return for dinner and bedtime once more, but bear in mind that you must register in the morning—"

"Yep, we get it, thanks," Siri interrupted, her patience in tatters. The droid stepped aside.

The Jedi entered, and Siri climbed the stairs slowly, constantly looking back at Obi-Wan as he juggled balancing on the steps with carrying Anakin. They eventually made it to the top as the droid locked up behind them. Siri turned right at the top of the stairs, heading towards the family rooms, and Obi-Wan gratefully followed; the more isolated they were from everyone else, the better, after all. She found a room and flicked on the light to reveal two bunk beds flanking the walls.

Obi-Wan entered and Siri closed the door behind him before climbing to the top bunk on the left set, not even bothering to remove her boots, passing out about a second later. Obi-Wan slowly lowered Anakin onto the bed beneath her, removing his one shoe and covering him with the supplied blanket. Then he walked over to the doorway, turned the lights off, and stumbled to the opposite end of the room, asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

---

Noise. There was noise. What was that?

Padmé jumped, startled, and she opened her eyes blearily. It was still fairly dark outside, the winter sun late to rise, but she heard something beeping incessantly down the hall. Was that a comlink call?

She automatically rose to answer it and froze halfway down the hall as she remembered that she was still officially dead and wouldn't be able to answer a comlink. Peeking into the living room, she wondered if anyone else was there and saw her father, so she quickly backed into the shadows so the holographic projector wouldn't pick her up in the background.

Her father pressed a button and a large hologram of an unfamiliar woman appeared. He furrowed his brow, sleepy and confused. "Ría? It's good to see you, but it's awfully early for a call."

The name sounded somewhat familiar, but Padmé couldn't pinpoint how. Ría was probably a coworker of some sort.

The woman looked somewhat anxious, and she immediately explained her reason for calling. "Ruwee, I… I had to call. You know how I run the shelter? Well I came in today because of the fundraiser and was listening to the night droid give its report to the day crew when it mentioned it let a family in around one in the morning. I thought nothing of it, but the droid said one of them was carrying an adult male, and I thought maybe he was hurt. I checked the security feed with the day team so we could identify them when they got up, and… Ruwee, I saw Siri. Siri is asleep in my shelter. Why is she in my shelter? I couldn't even recognize the people she was with, but it was two men."

Padmé's mouth dropped open. What? Was this woman out of her mind, or just imagining things? Obi-Wan and Siri were on Ferrasco with Vader!

"Are you sure it's Siri?" Ruwee asked, probably thinking the exact same thing.

"I know that face, those eyes; I was one of the supervisors for most of the service corps trips she and Obi-Wan went on," Ría affirmed. "It's her. Ruwee, she looks terrible, what happened? Why is she in my shelter? Where's Obi-Wan?"

Ruwee stumbled for the right words. "We had a falling out, but I didn't expect her to take it so far. Is she still there?"

"Yes, she's still there; most of the residents are still asleep. I called as soon as I saw her."

"Thank you," Ruwee said before the woman could ask any more questions. "I'll be over there immediately."

Her father ended the call and stared at the space where the hologram had been, looking confused and concerned. Padmé stepped out of the shadows. "How can Siri be on Naboo?"

"I don't know." Ruwee shook his head, somehow not startled by her intrusion. He must have heard her walking down the hall. "The other two men… Obi-Wan must be one of them. How could Ría not recognize Obi-Wan? What must he look like for that to happen? And the other one…"

Padmé felt her heart skip a beat. Vader.

Oh gods. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready for this.

Why were they on Naboo? What had happened on Ferrasco? Did they not know about the rendezvous point? Had they gone to Salkende first? Had she just barely missed them? Did they know she was alive? No, they couldn't know; they would never have gone to a homeless shelter for the night if that were the case.

Good gods. They didn't know.

Padmé and her father stood in silence, lost in their own thoughts and worries, until Ruwee finally spoke up. "Tell everyone else what's happening. I'm going."

Padmé watched her father uncertainly. What would he do about Vader? Was he going to be safe? "Dad…"

"I'm bringing them home, Padmé," Ruwee said determinedly. "If they're hiding in plain sight like this, that means they have to have Vader under control somehow."

He did have a point, but Padmé was slightly more concerned what her father would do to Vader rather than the other way around. Still, she didn't have the resolve to face the man herself, and she couldn't really interact with people in broad daylight, so she just nodded and headed back towards the bedrooms as her father grabbed a cloak and boots. Padmé reached her parents' bedroom and paused to catch her breath. As soon as she told her mother she would have to dedicate all her energy to comforting the poor woman; her mother had been devastated by Obi-Wan's departure, and this new revelation would set her into a concerned, relieved, and panicked frenzy.

Meanwhile, Ruwee was trying to catch his breath as his heartrate skyrocketed. He headed out into the streets, locking up behind him, and rushed to his speeder. The homeless shelter was within walking distance, but Ruwee would spare no time; gods forbid he miss them. If Obi-Wan and Siri were at the shelter they were trying to avoid notice, which meant they would leave Theed as quickly as possible. He wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't lose his son. Not again.

Ruwee remembered when he had met Adelig on Nimo'alke. Obi-Wan had been so small, so frail looking, so terrified. Jobal had held him for hours, rocking him and comforting him. Ruwee had put enough paperwork together to indicate Obi-Wan had been a native to Nimo'alke and his family and all record of his existence had been destroyed in the Imperial attack. They had taken him in as their own, and they would never let any harm come to him.

He tasted bitterness in his mouth as he thought about their parting words to each other the day of Padmé's funeral (gods above it was the most beautiful miracle in the galaxy that Padmé was actually alive). They had been spoken in anguish, anger, and haste, and no one had meant what they'd said, but the words had cut into all of them. Ruwee recalled that when they returned home after the walk that Darred (smart man that he was) had recommended, they had waited for four hours in the living room, wondering when Obi-Wan and Siri would come home, hoping they could apologize and say they all needed to be in this together. Jobal had started to call Obi-Wan's comlink incessantly to no avail, but they refused to move, refused to believe that Obi-Wan and Siri would just disappear like that. But they had. Jobal had cried for the next two weeks. Sola had slipped into a mild depression, not motivated to do much of anything. Ruwee himself had continued to call Obi-Wan every day for three weeks. Eventually they'd all given up hope; Obi-Wan was never coming home again. They'd lost two children in one fell blow.

But they'd gotten one back, and Ruwee would be damned if he didn't get the other one too.

The homeless shelter quickly came into view (blast, how fast had he been driving?) and Ruwee parked right in front of the entrance. He hastened indoors, entering a small foyer that led into the dining room. Beyond the dining room was the back area of the building, which was likely where Obi-Wan and Siri had entered since it led directly to the stairway where the dormitories were. Ruwee stepped quickly, ready to rush through the dining area (it wouldn't be crowded – breakfast had just started), when he froze in place.

Siri was in the dining room.

Ruwee had always known Siri to be a vibrant, beautiful, strong woman. Her physique had always been muscular, her angular face beaming with energy and love, her sharp blue eyes intense. Now her shoulder length blonde hair was in tatters, dried to the point of brittleness, her face looked pale, and she was shivering from head to toe. She wore a grey sleeveless undershirt that was stained with mud and blood, along with thick white trousers that were fraying at some parts of the seams, and durable, scuffed white boots. She stood in line, waiting to pick up some food. Ruwee's eyes fell to her abdomen, but it looked as flat as usual; she was very early in her pregnancy. Pregnancy. She was pregnant.

Ruwee walked towards her slowly just as she got food and requested some more for her family. As she pulled away with a tray, she paused, standing in profile to him, and he saw her entire body go rigid. A moment later, she started to walk briskly towards the exit, vanishing in the small crowd that had gathered in the dining area. Ruwee inhaled sharply and rushed ahead, not entirely certain why she was suddenly in a hurry. Had she noticed him? Was she really trying to run from him?

As he reached the exit he saw the stairway that led to the dorms. Siri was at the top step.

"Siri!" he called to her.

Siri froze. She didn't turn around. A few seconds passed, and Ruwee started to climb the stairs when she spoken roughly.

"Go home," she said, still not facing him.

Ruwee couldn't tell if she was actually still hurt by their argument or if she was trying to keep Vader away from him. In either case, he could allay both concerns. "Siri… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything we said. We were all hurting that day, but… but something wonderful has happened, and you must come home. I… I already know who your companions are."

Siri whirled on him, her face devoid of any color. "You what?"

"I know everything." Ruwee said sincerely, trying to convince her he wasn't there to cause harm. "A friend of yours stopped by, and… and you have to come home."

"A friend?" Siri repeated, her eyes narrowing, her foot lingering on the last step.

"Yes, a friend," Ruwee nodded, wondering what could have caused his daughter-in-law to be so distrustful of him.

Siri's expression eventually lost some of its edge, and she went from guarded to worry. "You know who my companions are? Both of them?"

"Both of them."

Siri came to some sort of decision, biting her lip. "Go home."

"Siri," Ruwee implored, taking a step towards her. "Please. It's… it's safe. Come home."

"You don't understand," Siri shook her head, her voice trembling slightly. "Nowhere is safe. Not now."

What was wrong? How could he convince her? He walked up the stairs so they were standing a breath away from each other, but even here he didn't dare mention Padmé. Instead, he tried their companion. "It's Almusian."

Siri's mouth opened to speak, her eyes widening, but nothing came out. Eventually, she hoarsely whispered, "What is he doing here?"

"That's what I want to tell you about, but… not here."

His daughter-in-law examined his face, searching for something, her brow still furrowed in concern. "He told you everything?"

"Everything." Ruwee confirmed quietly. "It's… fine. You'll be safe. All… all of you."

Those words were the key. Immeasurable relief washed over Siri's face, and she smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. Without another word, she turned and headed towards the dorms, and Ruwee followed her. He felt almost insincere in saying all of them would be safe, but he had no way of hurting a man like Darth Vader anyway, so it wasn't really a lie. He just couldn't exactly guarantee that Vader would be all that welcome. Nevertheless, seeing the amount of concern Siri had for the man was uncharacteristic – there was more to this story than what Almusian and Padmé had let on.

The two entered the small dormitory silently. Ruwee immediately could tell the other two occupants were still asleep before seeing them simply because Siri was being as quiet as possible. She placed the tray of food on a nightstand between the two bunk beds and then took a step back, knowing that Ruwee would want to go to his son.

Ruwee looked at the left lower bunk first and caught sight of a pale young man with wavy dark blonde hair that reached his shoulders, stubble growing over his gaunt face, and a skinny, tall build. He wore dark clothes that looked like they were once a well-groomed outfit but had since been torn and tattered from excessive use in unforgiving environments. This had to be Darth Vader. This was the man who had shot his daughter, who was apparently mentally unstable, who had saved his son's and daughter-in-law's lives. He didn't know what to make of him, but he certainly didn't want to get near him. Ruwee swallowed and turned his attention to the other bunk.

There was Obi-Wan. He looked much older and more haggard than Ruwee ever remembered seeing him, with his auburn hair also shoulder length and a full moustache and beard covering most of his scratched up face, but he was still unmistakably his Obi-Wan.

Ruwee approached his son slowly, reaching a hand out to brush some hair from the man's closed eyes. Gods it was amazing to see him again. Ruwee never thought he would have that chance.

The touch seemed enough to rouse his son, who jumped slightly and pulled away, opening his eyes. It took him a moment, but his expression quickly changed from bewilderment to astonishment. His eyes locked with something behind Ruwee, and he assumed Obi-Wan was glancing at Siri. The two had some sort of quiet dialogue, which Ruwee had grown accustomed to seeing over the years (and now that he knew that Siri herself was also a Force user, it made a whole lot of sense), and eventually Obi-Wan came to some sort of understanding and looked at his father once more, smiling almost timidly. "Dad."

Ruwee mirrored his son's smile in full force, sitting on the bed and putting his hand on his son's cheek. "Hello, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan glanced behind his father once more and then looked him in the eye. "How did you find us?"

"Ría runs this shelter," Ruwee explained quietly. "She saw Siri on the security feed."

Siri hissed a curse under her breath, shifting. Ruwee looked between the two, suddenly worried they were still upset over his appearance. "It's all right. You're safe."

"Perhaps, but you might not be if you stay near us." Obi-Wan remarked surprisingly calmly. The young man had always been more even tempered than anyone in the family, but this behavior was almost unnatural, and it made Ruwee nervous. "It would be in your best interest if you went home."

"Al apparently stopped by," Siri said, catching both men's attention.

Obi-Wan immediately sat up, looking concerned. "Al? For what purpose? Is he still here?"

"Yes, he's still here," Ruwee answered as Obi-Wan and Siri seemed to be debating something. "Come home and we can talk."

Obi-Wan's eyes immediately fell upon the other occupant in the room. Ruwee glanced in the man's direction and saw that Darth Vader was still fast asleep. From this angle the man looked… unnervingly young. That aside, Ruwee surmised why Obi-Wan was suddenly interested in him. "He'll be safe too."

Ruwee's guess was correct. Obi-Wan looked at his father in astonishment. "You know who he is?"

"Al told him everything," Siri explained.

Again, Obi-Wan looked utterly confused. "…Why?"

Ruwee was beginning to grow both frantic and frustrated. They were digging their heels into the ground despite Ruwee's promise that they would be fine. Why were they acting like this? He could understand some of their hesitancy – perhaps they thought Vader would be a danger to the family. But then why were they traveling with him in plain sight? From what Ruwee could see Vader didn't have any sort of handcuffs or restraints of any sort.

Ruwee put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Obi-Wan. Come home and I can tell you everything – it'll practically explain itself. But you… you have to trust me."

A part of him couldn't even believe he had to tell Obi-Wan that, but he supposed after everything his son had gone through since he'd last seen him, it was understandable. Even if it did hurt.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "…Very well. Go home and we'll follow you."

"Obi, I thought I'd lost you – I'm not letting you out of my sight." Ruwee said firmly.

Rustling was heard on the other side of the room, and Ruwee jumped, looking at the other bunk. Vader was shifting, his eyes squeezed shut, moaning softly. Siri slowly walked to his bed and sat on it, putting her hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed. The sight reminded Ruwee strikingly of Jobal comforting one of the younglings, and it left him slightly uneasy.

"At least wait downstairs so we can handle matters with him," Obi-Wan said, catching his father's attention.

Ruwee hesitated, but he eventually nodded, heading back towards his speeder.

Siri immediately stood. "This has to be a trap."

"The Empire doesn't know about Al, certainly not by name," Obi-Wan noted, stroking his beard. It made no sense for Al to be on Naboo. None. So what in the blazes was he doing here? How would he even know where to find Obi-Wan's family, and why would he speak to them? The last time they'd seen Al had been on Ferrasco for heaven's sake.

"Al said he had a tail way back when we were still operating on Imperial Center," Siri remarked knowingly, crossing her arms. "They could have caught wind of the name and planted it on an agent. It's not like your family would know the difference."

"If that's the case, then how did they find us?"

"He just said it was because of Ría."

"But why plant an agent with my family? We made it fairly clear we were never returning. Something must have tipped them off that we were heading to Naboo."

"The shuttle?" Siri offered.

Obi-Wan also stood, shaking his head. "Anakin shut the tracking signal off."

"Yeah, but that was two hours after we stole it."

Obi-Wan bit his lip. Siri was right. The odds were small, but it wasn't completely improbable that the Empire somehow tracked them here. But if they were using his family as bait… what were they going to do? If they fought the Imperials to save his family they would attract more attention. If they didn't fight them, his family could die. And how many agents were around, anyway? Were they already closing in on the shelter? The Force didn't indicate there was any danger, and that was the most unnerving aspect of it all.

"We both knew that something felt off yesterday," Siri sighed. "I guess this was it."

Off. That's right. Something had felt off… it still did. But it wasn't a threat. So what was it? Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan focused on it, now having enough energy and impetus to do so. Instantly his body was flooded with warmth, he smelled roses and felt the most gut wrenching sense of déjà vu.

Padmé. This had something to do with Padmé.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. What the blazes did Padmé have to do with anything anymore? Naturally the family would still be upset, but why would the Force indicate it too? Was he just catching glimpses of what his father was thinking about? But that didn't make sense – he and Siri had both noticed the difference in the swamp yesterday.

"I can't believe he knows about Anakin," Siri said, snapping Obi-Wan out of his musings. "None of this makes sense."

"We might be able to convince him to go home alone," Obi-Wan tried to say, but Siri shook her head.

"Are you kidding me? With the way he was looking at you? You're lucky he left the room."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I suppose we shall have to improvise, then."

"Terrific," Siri muttered. "Never get a day's rest. We should have never come to Naboo."

"No, perhaps not," Obi-Wan agreed a little guiltily. He'd hoped they wouldn't run into this problem. He supposed it was foolish to think so. Walking over to Anakin he nudged the young man gently, and Anakin slowly woke up. His eyes settled on Obi-Wan's face first, and he seemed to quickly notice the tension in the room. He sat up, looking between the two questioningly, probing the Force automatically, but Obi-Wan still felt a fog clouding the boy's mind. His concussion still prevented him from sensing much.

His concussion. He was still injured. They couldn't be taking him into a threatening situation…

Not that they had much of a choice.

"Obi-Wan's family found us," Siri stated.

Anakin's brow twitched. "I thought we were to remain undetected."

"That was the plan, yes," Obi-Wan said regretfully.

"What's our escape route?"

"Escape route?" Siri repeated with a laugh. "Sweetheart, even if we escape that won't stop him from looking for us, and we believe he might be in danger."

Anakin caught her meaning. "You think the Empire's watching him."

"It's likely," Obi-Wan answered for his wife. "We're not entirely sure what's going on."

"We're going to go to the house with him," Siri explained. "But we need to be prepared for anything. They could be holding everyone hostage, and they might have an ambush waiting for us."

"If that is the case, there are to be no non-combatant casualties, is that understood?" Obi-Wan added firmly.

Anakin nodded, swinging his feet over. His ankle looked a little better than it did yesterday, but it was still very swollen. Then again, the young man looked far more alert and prepared than yesterday – his ankle wouldn't slow him down in a fight. The real concern was whether he could use the Force, given his head wound.

Siri blew out a breath, grabbing Anakin's crutches and handing them to him. "Let's go."

Anakin shook his head, rising and heading for the door.

"Anakin, what are you doing?" Obi-Wan asked, rushing over to the young and stopping him. "You need to use the crutches."

Bewilderment crossed the man's face, as if Obi-Wan were missing something obvious. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, possibly because your ankle's a disaster?" Siri rolled her eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"It's foolish to show weakness to the enemy," Anakin stated. "I will not show my injury."

"You don't even have a boot for that foot," Obi-Wan pointed out with some exasperation. "Your injury will be obvious, anyway."

"Besides," Siri continued. "If you use the crutches unnecessarily, they will assume you're weaker than you really are, which means you'll be at a tactical advantage."

Obi-Wan smiled at his wife as Anakin tried and failed to formulate an argument. Good job.

Reluctantly, Anakin grabbed the crutches and followed the pair out of the room. His eyes darted about, taking in all his surroundings, and Obi-Wan belatedly recalled that Anakin had been unconscious for the final duration of their trip yesterday. He had no clue where he was or how he had gotten here.

Well he certainly brushed that aside fairly quickly, Obi-Wan mused, though he assumed it was due to Anakin picking up on Obi-Wan and Siri's anxiety.

The trio descended the stairs slowly and saw his father waiting at the exit, a speeder just outside. Obi-Wan prodded the Force again, nervous, but still sensed no danger. Why? What was going on? Hesitantly, he led his wife and Anakin outside. His father eyed Anakin, and the Force rippled with fear and anger, making Obi-Wan pause, revolted at the sensation. After dealing with the Dark Side firsthand, he couldn't really stand to sense those emotions from others close to him anymore. Siri noticed his plight and stepped closer, her presence in the Force outshining anything coming from his father, and he took a breath, bolstered, and walked ahead.

Ruwee smiled at Obi-Wan and climbed into the driver's seat. Obi-Wan glanced at the passenger side and opted out of riding in the front with his father, instead sliding into the back seat. He motioned for Anakin to come next, and he could sense the discomfort coming from the boy as he glanced at Ruwee, then around the area, and then slowly lowered himself into the speeder for Obi-Wan to grab him under the arms and pull him over so Siri could slip inside as well.

After everyone was settled and strapped in, Obi-Wan's father drove the speeder through the streets. Obi-Wan felt like he was in the back of a police vehicle, trapped and heading towards some sort of imprisonment or execution. His senses were on high alert, and he could tell Siri's and Anakin's were as well. They drove in silence, which made Obi-Wan all the more nervous, but he supposed it could only be because Ruwee didn't know what to say in front of Darth Vader.

Finally, they came to a stop. Obi-Wan swallowed, looking at his childhood home with dread. Ruwee turned to face them. "Your mother… is going to be overwhelmed. Will…" here he looked at Anakin, and then back at Obi-Wan. "Will everything be fine?"

Blast, it felt like it had been an eternity since they'd dealt with others who didn't know how to handle Anakin. "Everything will be fine. We have this under control."

Excitement, joy, and anxiety bubbled from his father, confusing Obi-Wan. If this were some sort of ambush, his family wouldn't be excited for it. What was going on?

Ruwee stepped out of the speeder, bidding them to follow him. He climbed to the top step, but he refused to enter the house until they followed, apparently still paranoid that they would try to run away.

"I don't get it," Siri muttered as the three sat in the vehicle, staring at the house. "I don't sense any threats anywhere."

"Neither do I," Obi-Wan agreed. However, the Jedi did detect something.

Al was actually there. And the house… it reeked of Padmé through the Force. Obi-Wan supposed that was to be expected – he and Siri had already learned that people left imprints on places or things that they spent a lot of time around. But it felt… bizarre, and slightly upsetting, though not nearly to any degree it would have in the past. None of that mattered, though – Al was there. What in the blazes was he doing there?

Anakin continuously scouted the area with his eyes, but his senses were most certainly dulled. He didn't seem to detect Al's presence at all, though he wasn't all that familiar with the smuggler, so it wasn't really unexpected. He looked at Obi-Wan and then Siri, and shook his head. For what it was worth, he didn't sense any trouble, either.

That just made this situation make even less sense.

Obi-Wan sighed, opening the door. "Come on. Let's figure out what's going on."

Obi-Wan and Siri both exited the speeder, and Anakin slid out behind Obi-Wan, reluctantly grabbing his crutches and hobbling towards the stairs. Satisfied, Ruwee entered the house to announce their presence. Once he was inside, the trio paused again.

"I'll go first," Siri said. "You two stay out here until I figure out what the blazes is happening."

"That isn't necessary," Obi-Wan tried to say when his wife interrupted him.

"Yes, it is." She said firmly, brooking no argument.

Obi-Wan sighed, not bothering to say anything. He just remained on high alert, though any worry he felt was steadily being replaced by utter confusion. Siri climbed the stairs and entered the house slowly, her body tense, anticipating an attack of some sort. Obi-Wan lingered near Anakin, glancing around the side alleys.

Panic flared in the Force. Obi-Wan jumped, immediately running inside, telling Anakin to wait outside in case Imperials attacked from the streets as well. As soon as Obi-Wan pushed the door open, his hand reaching for his lightsaber, he called out to his wife and saw her frozen in the foyer.

Padmé was standing there.

Obi-Wan blinked. She… how… what? What sort of trick was this? Obi-Wan latched onto the Force in an instant, sensing his wife already doing so, and he felt…

Padmé. He felt Padmé.

But… but… what? What?

"Obi… Siri… it's me. I'm alive, I'm okay." The woman who looked like his dead sister said, hesitancy and eagerness conflicting on her features.

The Force wouldn't lie. But it had to be lying. After all, Obi-Wan had sensed something similar on Ilum when he and Siri had built their lightsabers. Surely this was some sort of trick, then, but who could possibly use the Force to trick them? Palpatine was dead, and Anakin wasn't prone to cruel jokes like this (honestly, Obi-Wan was fairly certain Anakin didn't even know what a joke was). Was there some other Force user that even the Jedi hadn't known about?

Obi-Wan shook his head subtly, getting his wits about him as Siri continued to stare at the woman. Coldly, he asked, "Who are you?"

The familiar face of his sister shifted with some semblance of worry and hurt. It made something in Obi-Wan's chest clench. Siri took a step towards the woman, her hand hovering over her lightsaber hilt.

"Whoa, whoa, guys! It's okay!"

Obi-Wan and Siri both turned and saw Al running into the foyer from the hall, looking frantic. Siri looked between the smuggler and the impossible sight, asking, "Al, what the hell is going on?"

"Padmé survived the shooting, that's what's going on," Al insisted, his presence in the Force filled with nervous energy. "I found out just after we were separated on Ferrasco."

"Tarkin took me captive," the woman explained, tears glistening in her eyes. Tears. Their reaction was upsetting her.

Obi-Wan looked into the woman's eyes, trying to fathom how this could actually be true. He'd seen her body, been to the wake, caressed the cold cheek before the final procession and bade her farewell. He'd felt something go wrong when he and Siri were heading for Salkende, they'd known something terrible had happened – had all of that been wrong? Had everything they'd endured been based on false assumptions? How could they have not known she was alive?

"It's me," she insisted. Padmé insisted. Padmé was alive.

Siri took another step towards her, but her body was slack from shock. The rest of the family looked uncertain if they should explain the matter further, but it seemed they had settled for letting the realization sink in.

And oh, did it sink in.

Siri nearly body slammed Padmé, wrapping her arms around her, the Force sending out a pulsing wave of relief and pain and shock and hurt, nearly knocking Obi-Wan to the ground. Padmé paused for a moment, winded, and then hugged Siri in return.

Obi-Wan continued to stare. It was honestly all he could do. After everything they'd gone through…

"Obi-Wan," he heard his mother whisper. Turning, he looked at her, unable to string words together in a coherent sentence. His expression was likely some mixture of attempted calmness and utter disbelief. "It's okay. It's her. She's alive. She's really alive."

His mother put her hand on his shoulder, smiling gently as if he were a youngling again. Her face glowed with happiness and love. The Force emanated warmth from her while there was a storm revolving around Siri. Obi-Wan looked back at the two women as they held each other.

What they had sensed yesterday… it must have been her. It must have been his sister. His sister. She was alive. Padmé was alive.

Obi-Wan swallowed, his mind suddenly going blank. This was so right and so wrong all at once. He shut himself down, closing off any connection to emotions, to the memories of his baby sister, of anything that would make him fall apart. He closed his mouth, which had been hanging slightly open for what felt like an hour at this point, and took a small step away, needing to breathe.

He should be happy. Siri obviously was, at least amidst all the other chaotic emotions warring inside her. This hadn't been what they'd been expecting at all. He should be happy. His sister was alive.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

"Obi," his mother whispered again, taking a small step towards him, looking concerned.

The Force pulsed again, but this time it was from outside. Obi-Wan flinched, but Siri was oblivious. It was Anakin.

Oh Force. Anakin.

Obi-Wan turned and hastily went outdoors, ignoring his family's worried calls. The cold slammed into him, draining the blood from his face, drying his unnoticed tear-filled eyes, slapping him back into reality. Anakin was genuflecting on the ground, his bad ankle behind him as he rested on his knee instead, leaning on the crutches. He was facing the alley, his eyes closed, trying to amass strength and stretch his senses, waiting for something or probing for something. He had likely started to wonder what was taking Obi-Wan and Siri so long but was reluctant to leave the perimeter undefended. After all, they'd been expecting an attack.

And it hit Obi-Wan – Anakin didn't sense Padmé. He hadn't sensed anything, not the change that Obi-Wan and Siri had detected yesterday, not the lingering presence of Padmé in the house, not Obi-Wan and Siri's utter shock, horror, pain, and joy at seeing her alive, nothing.

"Obi, it's okay," his mother again insisted from the doorway, though her voice cut off sharply in the end as she apparently noticed the other person outside.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, walking halfway down the stairs. He needed to breathe, and he couldn't do that with his family hovering over him. As soon as Anakin found out all hell would break loose. He had to get himself together. By this point he could hear Siri talking, practically interrogating Padmé but not letting her get a word in. Al was speaking as well, likely trying to coax Siri to let go of Padmé (though that would likely be impossible with the death grip she'd used on her). Sola was still in the foyer (Obi-Wan only realized just now that both Darred and little Ryoo were missing), but Ruwee had joined Jobal in the entranceway.

Obi-Wan took another deep breath. There is no emotion; there is peace. Be at peace. Anakin will need you. He closed his eyes and then walked the remaining steps to the ground level. Anakin heard him and opened his eyes, glancing at him before his gaze fell upon his parents in the entranceway.

"It's fine," Obi-Wan reported hoarsely despite his effort to keep his voice level. "There's no danger."

Anakin looked at him questioningly, standing fully, silently asking what he planned to do next.

Obi-Wan held to his resolve. "Come inside. There's someone you need to see. And Anakin… be… careful."

Anakin furrowed his brow, confused, worried, suspicious, and guarded. He looked at Obi-Wan's parents again, and then faced Obi-Wan, waiting for his lead.

Obi-Wan turned around towards the stairway again, slowly making his way to the house. His parents watched worriedly, slowly backing away from the door as he neared. They were staring at Anakin, their bodies tense, but Obi-Wan didn't bother reassuring them; he had enough to worry about, though the thought alone made him feel somewhat guilty for not sparing some energy for his parents' sake.

As soon as Obi-Wan and Anakin entered the foyer, the Jedi watched Anakin, carefully avoiding looking in Siri's direction. He had to ensure Anakin didn't do anything crazy, after all, particularly in his injured state. The boy barely recognized his own emotions let alone knew how to control them, and with this concussion it probably would make things worse.

Obi-Wan didn't have to wait long. As soon as Anakin looked over to the other side of the foyer, he knew. Even with his limited grasp of the Force, he knew; Obi-Wan could see the recognition in his blue eyes, the stiffening in his body, the immediate confirmation he sought through the Force.

The foyer grew quiet and heavy. Siri seemed to sense the change, and everyone else watched Anakin anxiously, unsure what would happen. Obi-Wan supposed Padmé was looking at Anakin as well, but he didn't dare glance in her direction. He had enough to look after. There is no emotion; there is peace.

Panic filled the boy. Guilt. Conflict. The mental shield started to slip, and Obi-Wan caught whispers of Master and alive and dead. He felt a shiver run down his spine, he felt bone crushing fear enter him like ice, he sensed searing heat thaw it a heartbeat later as Anakin remained frozen, the only indication of all this given by the slight parting of his lips and small widening of his eyes.

Obi-Wan finally braved a look in Padmé's direction and saw her appearing just as conflicted as Anakin. She seemed caught between wanting to greet him and wanting to get away from him. Considering their last confrontation, he couldn't blame her. But Anakin was quickly becoming a detonator that was about to explode. He had to diffuse this somehow.

Siri also seemed to catch this, so she tried to introduce reason into the scenario, explaining what she'd learned so far. "Padmé says she was taken captive by Tarkin, who ensured her survival."

Anakin's gaze immediately snapped to Siri, and the Force grew more tumultuous. Fear and panic turned to shock, confusion, and rage.

Something in Anakin clicked. He swallowed. Everything in him dissipated until a heat as intense as lava seemed to enter the room, filling from the floor upwards, making Obi-Wan and Siri immediately flinch. Anakin closed his mouth, his eyes hardening, his gaze aimed at the floor, boring a hole into it. His knuckles turned white on his crutches.

"Vader…" Padmé eventually whispered.

Both Jedi jumped at the title, having forgotten that she hadn't known Anakin's true name. Even Al didn't.

The heat vanished, draining out of the room and returning to Anakin, who looked at Padmé, blushed, and looked down, the guilt returning, body trembling. His signature in the Force grew thin, wispy, worn out – he couldn't take much more of this. And neither could the foyer, apparently – unbeknownst to everyone else, the small table, alongside the vase that had sat atop it, was now floating, ready to be crushed or fall to the ground.

Obi-Wan stepped forward just as Siri did, placing a hand on Anakin's forehead. The boy immediately recoiled, knowing what was to come, and the floating furniture fell to the ground with a crash. This made everyone else in the room jump, not sure what was happening, wondering if Anakin was about to attack.

"It's fine. He's just injured," Siri tried to explain hastily. "We need to get him to a bed."

Padmé immediately looked concerned while everyone else remained uncertain. Siri, however, took charge as Obi-Wan tried again to calm Anakin, who absolutely refused to let him anywhere near.

"Anakin," he whispered so only the young man could hear him. "Come with us."

Anakin shook his head, his breath coming in gasps.

Siri marched over, dedicating her full attention to Anakin. "Let's go."

Anakin looked like he wanted to argue again, but the distraction cost him; Obi-Wan waved his hand, sending a soothing, calming sensation through their developing bond. Anakin hiccupped a little, realizing too late what had just happened, and then his eyes started to close and his body sagged. Obi-Wan and Siri caught him as he swayed, though Obi-Wan had tried to be light with the influence, only making him sleepy instead of passing out. He wasn't entirely sure how well the moderation worked, though, seeing as Anakin was quickly blacking out entirely.

The family parted for them as Obi-Wan eventually gave up on helping Anakin walk and picked him up. Siri led the way to Obi-Wan's old bedroom and the two entered, not daring to look back. As soon as the door closed, Obi-Wan bounced Anakin lightly, looking at Siri, desperately asking her to take him. They traded the burden, and Siri gently laid the boy on the bed while Obi-Wan whirled around and the locked the door faster than he could blink.

The room was silent. Obi-Wan leaned his forehead against the door, his hand on the lock as if someone might try to break in. Siri paused at the bed, her hand on Anakin's chest and her gaze on her husband.

"She's alive," Obi-Wan eventually whispered.

Siri stood and walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and making him face her. Her determined blue eyes were soft, loving, filled with joy and confusion and pain, reflecting exactly how he felt, and she smiled. "She's alive."

Obi-Wan let out a breathy laugh. Then a gasp. Then a sob. Siri pulled him to her, and the two leaned heavily against the door, trembling with everything that had just happened.

---

Padmé didn't know what to do.

It had been about half an hour since Obi-Wan, Siri, and Vader had abruptly learned that she was alive. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or neutral to the fact that her father hadn't told them on the way, but she supposed he didn't think it safe to mention outside of the house. Still… they hadn't even recognized her at first… or, more accurately, they had refused to recognize her at first.

Honestly, she'd hardly recognized them.

All three had looked so gaunt, so pale, so exhausted, like they'd fall apart if the wind blew too hard. Obi-Wan had grown a beard and his hair was almost to his shoulders – he looked unkempt, nothing like the prim, proper older brother she was so used to seeing. Siri looked… Padmé couldn't quite describe it. She supposed the best word she could use was older; Siri looked like she'd aged a decade, not grey, but worn, somber, and radiating with silent strength (heaven knew the hug she'd given Padmé had nearly been bone crushing). And Vader…

Vader looked like a wreck. He was unshaved like Obi-Wan, grizzly stubble covering his dirty face, curly locks falling into his eyes. And his eyes were… she shook her head. So much had happened in them in the course of an instant. She could still read him a little, at least when he was open as he had been from sheer surprise; he'd been terrified, shocked, guilty, confused, worried, and angry. Some of those emotions made sense while others were… worrisome. But she didn't know how to interpret what she saw, not anymore, not after what he'd done. Or, she supposed, she wouldn't know how to interpret anything he did now that Palpatine was dead – after all, every move Vader had made had been according to his precious master. How in the blazes had he carried on without him?

Obi-Wan and Siri. It had to be them. They had to have been the ones to help him get through the pain, and that alone was nearly mind blowing. Al had told her that Vader had grown close to them, but she didn't quite fathom how much they had reciprocated it. It was almost too foreign to comprehend considering their feelings for the man before she'd been shot.

What had happened in the interim? Al's words suddenly didn't seem like enough explanation, even though he had been quite thorough in filling her in on what she'd missed. But the way they acted around Vader wasn't just like two people who had accepted that he wasn't as horrible as they'd thought. They'd acted concerned, comforting… they'd been warmer with him than with her.

Obi-Wan and Siri had seemed almost unwilling to accept that Padmé was alive, while Vader had immediately acknowledged it. Padmé didn't know what that meant. When Obi-Wan had asked her who she was… when Siri had reached for a lightsaber… Padmé didn't know what to make of any of it, and that hurt – she felt like they were strangers to her now, as if being gone for a few months was enough to create a chasm between them, a lifetime of experiences that they didn't share.

The rest of the family had murmured about how Obi-Wan and Siri looked, about Vader, whether it was even safe to have him in the house, but some, such as Darred, had pointed out that Obi-Wan and Siri obviously had him under control. Al had remained silent, and Padmé sought him out.

"You didn't tell me how much they'd changed," she remarked as she approached the smuggler.

Al sighed sadly. "We've all changed, Padmé. You can't expect them to suddenly accept that you're alive again. They went through a lot."

"But you—" she began to say.

"I knew you as a friend." Al shook his head. "It's not the same. They were your family."

Padmé noted with some surprise that Al didn't differentiate between the three, but she figured he assumed she understood his meaning. And she cursed herself for it. She was so eager to reunite with them, and the reunion with her other family members had been emotional, but still relatively smooth – she had assumed it would be the same with Obi-Wan and Siri. But of course it wouldn't be – they'd joined the war effort, started training as Jedi.

They'd moved on.

Padmé blinked as her chest tightened. That hurt. She… she would have expected them to hold out a little longer. But that was silly and selfish, and Siri had shown her relief by hugging Padmé after it had finally settled in. Obi-Wan, though…

Padmé sighed and shook her head. Obi-Wan had always been more remote, but now he felt like he was a million lightyears away despite being down the hall. He hadn't even gotten near her.

"They just need time," Al tried to say helpfully, startling her out of her musings. "I had a hyperspace trip to let it sink in – they've just found out."

Blowing out a breath, Padmé supposed Al was right. But it had been half an hour and she really couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to see them, to speak with them, to tell them it was okay. She wanted to hug her brother, to hear his voice. She wanted to look at Siri and see the life come back to her face instead of the gaunt, weary expression she seemed to be wearing now. She wanted to see Vader, to figure out how he felt about everything, how he was coping… and she didn't want to be anywhere near him at the same time.

Groaning, Padmé walked down the hall towards Obi-Wan's old bedroom. Vader was likely still unconscious, so she could speak with her brother and sister-in-law without worrying about him. She knocked softly when she reached the door and waited nervously, wondering how she could fix this, how she could help them and reassure them without falling apart herself. After all, just looking at them made her feel incredibly guilty; she did this to them, even if she couldn't help being shot. And it was a stupid thing to do, blaming herself for something she couldn't help, but she still felt responsible for all their pain nonetheless.

Nearly a minute passed with no answer. Padmé felt her stomach churn and she reached to knock again. However, the door clicked (why was it locked?) and then slowly opened.

Darth Vader stood on the other side.

Padmé froze. Why wasn't he asleep? She wasn't ready for this, not one on one. Where were Obi-Wan and Siri? Glancing behind Vader's shoulder, she noted that the pair was asleep on the edges of either side of the bed, as if some invisible object had filled the space between them. She didn't have time to think about it before her gaze returned to the Imperial.

Vader's eyes were clouded, filled with a thousand thoughts. His face was neutral but strained, as if he were struggling not to show what he was feeling in some manner. One hand was holding the door's edge while the other rested stiffly at his side. Padmé didn't know what to say or do. She wasn't ready for this.

The Imperial exhaled shakily and then stepped forward. Padmé felt her heartrate skyrocket, but she couldn't move. What was he going to do?

Vader hugged her.

Padmé felt her eyes widen immensely, and her body trembled. Vader's hold was timid at first, but it grew stronger by the second until she could hardly breathe. Eventually her heartbeat stopped thrumming loudly in her ears so she could hear the frantic whispers coming from him, apologizing over and over continuously. Sometimes the apologies slipped out in pairs, other times there would be one at a time between gasps of air. After almost half a minute, Padmé realized Vader didn't know what to do as much as she didn't – he was literally stuck in a loop.

She swallowed and closed her eyes. Then she returned the hug, squeezing briefly before forcing him away so she could catch her breath. Vader watched her with wide eyes now, somehow even more terrified than before. She didn't quite know what to say; she didn't want to say it was fine, because honestly, what he had done wasn't okay, even if she understood why he had done it.

But Palpatine had no power over him anymore, right? Was there anything to be afraid of anymore?

"It's…" she started to speak, unsure of how to phrase any kind of reassurance, half wondering why she was even reassuring him in the first place. But the wondering didn't last long; she'd known he'd needed help for a long time. Apparently she just hadn't gone around it the right way. "You were… brainwashed. It's… understandable."

There. That seemed reasonable enough to say, right? She felt that way at least, right?

Vader flinched and pulled away as if burned. Had she said something wrong? How was telling him it was understandable a bad thing? His eyes were wide, brow furrowed, face scrunched in worry and hurt and guilt. Padmé didn't know how she'd hurt him, though, but she was still too hesitant to find out. She only watched, her heart aching, her head screaming, her body caught in the middle.

The Imperial wobbled slightly, almost losing his footing for a second as he took another step away on his obviously injured ankle. Padmé focused on that, trying to change the subject. "What happened? How were you hurt?"

This seemed to help; being asked something not directly related to her apparent survival relieved him. "I fell."

Padmé bit back a sigh. She'd almost forgotten how hard it was to get him to elaborate. "What were you doing?"

"I was fighting Imperials. A TIE fighter shot at me and threw me off the roof."

She jumped, surprised, her eyebrows rising. "Imperials?"

Vader blinked. Padmé remembered. "Why were you fighting Imperials?"

"They would have killed Obi-Wan and Siri."

"So you… you've joined the Alliance?"

Vader's face darkened. Coldly, he said, "No."

The very fact that he spent energy saying no rather than shaking his head was enough to convince her that he felt emphatically about that. His expression confirmed it. It was obvious he held the Rebel Alliance in contempt, and this startled Padmé – after all, Vader had held no emotion for the Rebels initially. He'd simply stated they were his enemy because they were Palpatine's enemy. She recalled that distinctly on Naboo.

But that was it – Palpatine. The Rebels had killed Palpatine.

She couldn't think about this now. This was too complicated now. Seeing Vader like this… she didn't know. She hadn't been ready to talk to him face to face, but now that they were and she saw how he was behaving, all she wanted was just to remember what it had been like when they were at Varykino. She just wanted things to be simple again (but they never really were simple, were they?).

She just wanted to know what it felt like to be in love again. And she hated herself for it. And desperately wanted it.

Steering away from the subject of the Rebels, she said, "Al told me that you saved Obi-Wan and Siri on Hoth, too. Why are you helping them?"

Vader looked like he was debating the matter, but eventually he answered her. "You protect family."

Padmé felt her jaw drop slightly. Did he just… family? He looked at them as family? This was the same man who had claimed he didn't need family, that love was a useless emotion and family was nonessential.

Then again, this was also the same man who had fallen in love with her.

And shot you, remember?

She closed her mouth. Emotions flooded her, and she was lost in the deluge for a few minutes as Vader stood there almost matter-of-factly, finally seeming to gain some semblance of control. She was so unbelievably happy for him, surprised as hell, and… well, she didn't know what else. Eventually she smiled. "They're your family?"

Vader stood there silently, apparently not sure whether to repeat himself. Padmé didn't care. The more she thought about it, the happier she became, the more relieved she became. This, to her, was the first true indication of the emperor's death – Vader was finally free of Palpatine's oppressive hold and he was showing such massive improvement. Obi-Wan and Siri were miracle workers; she couldn't imagine what they had gone through to get to this point. Padmé felt her smile grow, and she took a step towards Vader, who tried to back away, but she caught him in another hug before he could flee, closing her eyes.

"I'm so happy for you," she said sincerely, her voice trembling.

Vader didn't return the hold and stood stiffly in her grip, but she didn't notice it. Instead, she was filled with renewed hope, something she hadn't expected to ever feel again. It was amazing, like having a dam released so all her worries could wash away for just an instant.

The moment was abruptly interrupted when Padmé heard a crash out in the hall, making her jump and pull away. She turned to see what had happened and noticed that a small board that had been leaning against the wall had fallen over. Putting a hand to her heart, she turned to look at Vader once more only to find the door closed and the Imperial gone.

Inside the room, Siri stood at the door, her hand on the control panel, having apparently been awake long enough to sense his inner turmoil and save him from interacting with Padmé.

Padmé. Padmé. She was alive.

He was lost. He was so lost. Master wanted Padmé dead. The fact that she was alive spat in the face of one of Master's last wishes. But he sure as hell couldn't kill her. He felt… he felt… he didn't know. He couldn't stand to look at her, he couldn't stand to be near her, yet he couldn't let go when he'd hugged her initially. He'd done it for the same reason he'd hugged Obi-Wan and Siri – he knew it held significance to them. To him… well… he didn't know. But all he did know was that once he held on he suddenly locked up, unable to let go, unable to think straight, unable to do anything except apologize over and over. The more he apologized the sicker he felt, going against everything he'd ever been taught to do, but the more he apologized, the more frantic he became that she hear his words.

He was so lost.

Just looking at her reminded him of Master. Just looking at her reminded him of what he'd done to her. Just looking at her made his heart stop and then beat so hard he was sure it would burst. Just looking at her made him feel like he should run in any direction so long as it was away from her. Just looking at her made him feel like he should grab her and never let go.

But Master wanted her dead. She should be dead.

Yet she wasn't. And that was the governor's doing. The governor, who had not only taken advantage of Master's death, but had apparently been planning it for some time. Why else would he allow her to live? He was going to use her. He was going to use him.

He trembled. His body felt hot. His heartrate beat so hard and fast he felt lightheaded. His cracked ribs ached, his foot screamed in pain, his head was spinning, and all he could imagine was throttling the man he'd once trusted.

"Anakin?"

He looked at Siri, not quite able to focus on her and not quite able to ignore her. Some ingrained instinct in him made him as alert as possible, awaiting orders, but he still couldn't shake the thoughts from his mind, the whispers that Padmé was supposed to be dead yet he was unable to finish the job.

If only Tarkin had killed him that night so long ago. If only Obi-Wan and Siri hadn't stopped him on Ferrasco. But he couldn't hurt them too, and his death would hurt them, right? Because they loved him, right?

"I'm so happy for you."

Why was she happy for him? What would make her happy? He'd shot her for Force's sake, what was wrong with her? She hadn't forgiven him, he knew that – she would have said it, just as Obi-Wan and Siri had said it. He wasn't surprised, but it still… stung. It was stupid to think she would forgive him – after all, he hadn't forgiven the Rebels and the Jedi.

But Obi-Wan and Siri had forgiven him. He trembled a little just thinking about it, and he locked eyes with Siri. Those two were truly in a caliber all their own. He didn't understand it.

"Do you need to talk about it?" Siri asked.

Blast, they were getting to know him too well – if she'd asked if he wanted to talk he could have slipped out of it easily enough with a simple I don't know. But did he need to talk about it?

Well, probably. But… but… he shouldn't. How could he tell them that a part of him was screaming that Padmé was supposed to die? How could they possibly understand that anything going against Master's wishes was like a slap to the face, like spitting on Master's memory? How could he explain what he was going through when he himself didn't know what he was feeling?

When you aren't supposed to be feeling anything, you mean.

He gasped a little, taking a step back. No, no, please no. He didn't… no. Just no.

"Anakin?" Siri questioned worriedly as Obi-Wan got out of bed, watching him.

The room swam as he grew dizzy, backing into a corner and shaking his head.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"She can't be alive," he said before he could stop himself, and he felt his heart nearly stop. He looked down immediately, wondering when the rebuke would come, wondering when they would refute everything they'd said on Ferrasco, wondering when he would be all alone.

"It's difficult to accept," Obi-Wan remarked. "But… she is alive. I'll admit, even I don't know what to make of it. I… I don't know how to go backwards to the time when the wound was still fresh, to fix this in my mind. It isn't easy for any of us."

"And that's okay," Siri stressed.

They didn't understand. That was for the best. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and he sealed his mind off from the two. He wouldn't let them know; he never let Master know when something was wrong, after all.

You would talk to the governor, though.

Only in desperate situations. Besides, they weren't the governor. He would never open himself up like that again.

But they're not here to take advantage of you.

What guarantee did he have of that?

They wanted to get away from the Rebels. He sighed at the thought, and he felt his blood chill at the next realization.

Padmé is still a Rebel. She wants you to be one too.

Was Padmé just like the governor? Did she only want to use him for her own purposes? She was Master's enemy, after all.

But… but… she'd said she loved him. Before he'd shot her, she'd said she loved him. Did that… did that mean nothing? Why would she lie about that? Why would anyone lie about that?

Well, you did shoot her. She probably doesn't love you anymore.

He bit his tongue until he tasted blood. He had to stop this nonsense, certainly in front of Obi-Wan and Siri. He'd shown enough weakness for one day. He wouldn't do that anymore. There was no purpose in letting her feelings for him affect him; she couldn't have loved him anyway, not when she was engaged to marry another for the sole purpose of aiding the Rebel cause. She was a means to an end for the Alliance as much as he was for Master. He'd known that before. It was no different now.

Except Master was dead and she wasn't.

He growled and bit harder. Being with Obi-Wan and Siri had been like the promise of a new life, something so foreign and surreal that he hadn't known what to make of it, had initially stubbornly resisted it before slowly opening to the idea. Now it was like being sucked back to Imperial Center, being in that state of uncertainty and pain that had been tearing him apart just prior to the kill order.

Pain. The pain of separate loyalties. The pain of being in love with Padmé and loving Master and knowing both wanted the other dead. But there was no conflict now, right?

Except Master wanted her dead and she's not.

"Anakin."

He jumped, startled by Obi-Wan's firm voice.

"It's going to be okay," Obi-Wan said slowly, as if he'd already said it and been ignored. "We'll sort this out."

He almost scoffed at the idea, but he also held onto the words like he used to when the governor gave him advice. Obi-Wan had somehow managed to make sense of so many situations that had nearly broken him – surely he could do the same here? He nodded with a twitch of his head mainly to acknowledge the words rather than agree with them, but he still watched Obi-Wan carefully, waiting for him to say something that might help him.

Instead, he sensed reluctance, hesitancy. Obi-Wan and Siri didn't seem to want to leave the room, didn't want to be near Padmé. They had been the ones who had used the Force to knock something over in the hallway, after all. They'd gotten rid of her in the first place.

"We should leave," he suddenly said, startling himself as much as the pair.

"Leave?" Siri repeated, though he allowed her lapse in understanding for a moment since he figured she was still stunned about everything that had happened. "You mean leave the house?"

He nodded.

"And go where?"

"Wherever we were supposed to go."

"You want to abandon them?" Obi-Wan asked.

"She's going to rejoin the Alliance, right?" he noted, figuring that would make his point fairly clear; they were supposed to be avoiding Empire and Rebels alike.

Siri glanced at Obi-Wan, and the two were locked in another one of their internal dialogues. He stood as patiently as he could, but as the seconds ticked by he grew more restless. What were they talking about that they couldn't voice it aloud? Why didn't they immediately catch his meaning and agree? Were they going to leave him?

They were. They were going to stay with Padmé. Why wouldn't they? She was family.

But they said you were family too.

He shook his head. Padmé came first. He was nothing compared to her. And… and he wouldn't force them to leave her. But he couldn't stay. He just couldn't.

He interrupted them. "You should plan an evacuation for your family. They're probably not safe here anymore."

Obi-Wan and Siri watched him silently, somewhat worried, but apparently they were too overwhelmed by everything to understand the true reason for his suggestion. They sighed reluctantly and nodded, heading for the exit together. He waited until they had walked down the hall before hastily closing the door, feeling his body tremble fiercely. He… he…

He didn't want to be alone.

A wave of nausea hit him just thinking that. Some ingrained part of him screamed at the admission. He shook his head. It wouldn't matter anymore anyway. He'd be on his own no matter what he wanted. He would not join the Alliance.

Turning, he examined the sole window in the room. It was fairly large, certainly big enough for him to fit through. He approached it, opened it, and delicately climbed over the windowsill, glancing at the slight drop into a yard filled with flower beds and a garden. This landing would likely hurt, but he could remain silent.

"What you doing?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin, not having sensed anything due to his concussion, and he grabbed the window, looking around wildly before tracing the high pitched voice to a youngling in the garden below. She looked too similar to the other members of the family to not be a relative of some sort. Her large brown eyes were staring at him curiously.

He wondered if he even acknowledge her; judging by her size and lack of ability to speak with proper grammar, she certainly wasn't worth his time. However, she might get someone if he didn't. "I'm getting fresh air."

She scrunched her nose. "You look silly. Come down! We play together!"

He hesitated. The youngling's parents had to be nearby, and he didn't need that. "Are you alone?"

"Dada's on the other side of garden." She said with a big smile as if answering a question made her happy.

"Where specifically?"

She pointed in the opposite direction. "I go get him!"

"No! No. That—that isn't necessary." He quickly said, waving his hand to emphasize the point since he was half convinced she didn't understand what necessary even meant. "Just go to him, but don't bring him here and don't tell him about me."

Now she furrowed her brow, looking somewhat like a miniature Padmé. "Why?"

He felt his cheeks flush and some form of a growl rumbled in his chest. Even the kriffing younglings questioned his orders in this family.

"Go to your father and don't say anything about me." He repeated his order, furrowing his brow.

The girl blinked. "Why?"

Gripping the window more firmly, he said, "Because I said so."

"But you a stranger," the girl said as if that explained everything.

"What difference does that make?" he asked. "I am an authority figure."

The girl stared at him blankly. "What's that?"

You can't be serious. Do they even teach their younglings anything? "Someone who gives orders, and you listen to them. Go to your father."

But it was too late – as soon as he'd finished saying that he caught movement in the corner of his eye, and his addled mind detected something familiar approaching. He looked up beyond the girl and saw a young man who also bore a resemblance to her but not quite the other relatives, and Padmé herself was right beside him.

Padmé stared at him, her face guarded as she seemed to be figuring out what he was doing. He felt his cheeks flush. She turned to the other man. "Go inside, Darred. You haven't seen Obi and Siri yet."

Darred looked at him sharply and then the girl. The look alone indicated his reason for avoiding a reunion with Obi-Wan and Siri – the man hadn't wanted the little girl near him.

He almost scoffed. As if the girl were a threat; he wouldn't bother with her if it weren't for the fact that she wouldn't shut up and actually listen to him.

"Come along, Ryoo," the man said to the girl, who skipped over to the man. The two reentered the house.

"What are you doing?" Padmé asked, repeating the girl's question (albeit with better grammar and diction, at least).

He didn't dare speak. He already didn't know what to do with her staring at him like that.

"You were going to leave, weren't you?" she surmised.

He couldn't stop himself. "It's necessary. Obi-Wan and Siri likely want to be with you, and I'm the only thing in the way of that."

Damn it, why couldn't he keep his mouth shut around her?!

Padmé took another step towards him, her face softening. "How are you in the way of that?"

"They were trying to avoid the Alliance for my sake." Shut up, blast it, just shut your kriffing mouth! "The Rebels want me dead."

Padmé's mouth fell open slightly, her eyes widening. "Dead? Al said you were their prisoner."

Fine, he would explain. "I antagonized them."

"Vader," Padmé said softly, and he felt his skin tingle at the sound. He needed to scream and get away from her. Or just get away, though screaming seemed a reasonable thing to do at the moment as well. Perhaps it was the concussion? "The Alliance won't hurt you. I'll make sure of it."

He felt his body grow cold. "You want me to join the Alliance?"

Padmé sighed. "No. But I figure you can help us, not the Alliance. I mean…" Here she hesitated, filled with some sort of dread. "Do you want to be with Tarkin?"

Blast, not another one of these what do you want questions. Those questions were heinous. He barely knew what he wanted apart from when random thoughts appeared in moments of sheer desperation. However… just thinking about the governor made him feel… off. He tried to reason what that meant. Obi-Wan and Siri had said whatever came to mind first was typically what he wanted. So what was coming to mind first?

Not being with the governor.

"I… don't think so," he eventually answered.

"Then…" Padmé hesitated again, not entirely confident in her words, perhaps not even entirely truthful. He didn't know if she was capable of being honest at this point, and some part of him stung thinking about it. "Be with us."

Wait, what?

"I shot you," he immediately reminded her as if she had somehow forgotten – that had to be the case anyway, why else would she suggest that? How the hell could she have forgotten? She remembered a minute ago! Who was the one with the head injury between the two of them?! "Do you have no sense of self-preservation?"

Padmé laughed, and he felt his body relax at the sound, that amazing sound that just made everything seem… right. "From what I hear, you certainly don't."

"That's not the point!" he waved a dismissive hand, agitated.

She laughed even harder, her face glowing. In that moment, it hit him.

The fact that she was living was… acceptable. Despite Master's wishes. It almost felt like he… like he was flying in a ship without ever leaving the ground. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Or was there anything wrong at all? He grew dizzy just thinking about it.

As she started to regain her composure, he did too. What was her true motive for asking that he stay? Where did her true loyalties lie?

"Vader…" she eventually remarked. "You're right. You did shoot me."

His heart stopped. He shifted, trying to climb back into the room, but she pointed to the grass in front of her, and so he reluctantly climbed down to face her.

"But…" she continued once he'd hopped down to the garden, masking the fire in his chest and ankle with a large swallow and slightly widened eyes. "But… I know why. Palpatine's gone. He can never hurt you again… he… he can never hurt us again. Just… know who you are. Know that no one can hold that much sway over you. Just… don't ever do anything like that again."

He stared at her, mesmerized and confused. She… did she truly understand? If so, then why would she say Master could never hurt him again? Master didn't hurt him. He'd always done what he'd done to improve him. She still didn't get it. She hadn't changed since Varykino.

Padmé suddenly sniffled, and then, despite her words, she started to cry. Or perhaps because of them. In either case, this was too much for him; he could hardly deal with her when she wasn't blubbering. As soon as the tears came out he was clueless. He never knew how to handle tears.

Maybe he should find Obi-Wan or Siri. They were well equipped for this emotionalism. The last time she'd cried in front of him he'd been clueless as well, but he'd thought he could break it out of her, at least startle it out of her. Now he didn't dare attempt anything; he was the reason she was crying, after all.

Before he could decide upon any course of action, he felt a dull warning in the Force, though not in time to dodge the suddenly smack that nearly threw him to the ground. Padmé herself nearly tripped from the force of the blow she'd just delivered.

"Don't ever do that again!" she half yelled at him, still crying.

Wha… what? How could she be crying and attacking at the same time? Did people do that? Why did she hit him? Was this retaliation for shooting him? Did she even realize that absolutely didn't count? If she wanted retaliation she would have to shoot him back. If it wasn't retaliation, what was it? Happiness wouldn't lead someone to smacking somebody, and she was crying, so was violence typical with—

Padmé dragged him into a hug.

What? What?

A second later she released him and ran back into the house.

He stared after her, his jaw dropped in utter bewilderment, his cheek stinging.

What the hell just happened?!

---

Lightyears away in the heart of Imperial territory, Tarkin sat in his office when an Intelligence report finally came. He glanced it over hastily, rising as he did so, ready to meet Vader as soon as the boy touched ground, and then he froze.

Massive structural damage to the city, heavy casualties to the destroyer. One Jedi found, believed to be killed, later discovered to be… be…

Vader? Vader had fought the Imperials? But if they thought he was the Jedi…

No. No. No, no, no…

His eyes continued to scroll through the pad until they settled on the summary.

Lord Vader perished in the assault.

What? What did… how did…?

Rage filled him, and Tarkin tossed the data pad onto the desk, where it slid across the furniture and crashed to the floor, taking several stacks of flimsiplast with it. What did they mean he'd perished? The report had said a TIE fighter had taken him out. Why the hell did they have fighters attacking him?! The Jedi wouldn't have been capable of putting up such a fight! Their orders had been for retrieval!

This had to be his spy's doing. There was no way the agents were this incompetent. Did she have Vader killed to ensure Tarkin wasn't a threat to her? Was that all the boy was to her, just a threat, just some unimportant thing that could be eliminated?

Tarkin felt his breath coming out in angry gasps. She would pay for this. She would pay for this.

And a heartbeat later, the anger left as the news hit home.

Vader…

Tarkin leaned against his desk. The room was so quiet it was suffocating him.

Well, he supposed the boy finally got his wish.

Tarkin felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach.

How would he… what was he going to do? Vader was gone. He was gone!

A few minutes passed with the emperor regent lost in his own thoughts, filled with anger and regrets he'd never known he'd even had. Then logic finally started to kick in once more. Vader was dead. The emperor was now dead. That meant Tarkin was in charge.

This… this…

This wasn't what he'd wanted.

Tarkin slammed his fist on his desk with a curse.

It didn't matter what he wanted anymore, did it? He might as well take advantage of the gift given to him. As if losing Darth Vader is a gift, he scoffed, his chest clenching.

Damn it all, this wasn't what he'd wanted!

Tarkin squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly plagued with a headache. He would have to announce Vader's death to the senate. The coronation would be planned after a mourning period.

He would get Keeper for this. He would ensure she paid dearly for what she'd done.

Slowly, he brought his hand up to cover his eyes, squeezing his temples.

Goodbye, little one. I hope you find rest wherever you are.