Note from the Author:

Once more, thank you everyone for all of the reviews! They help me so much! How else could I find the momentum to keep writing? This chapter is so great, it was so much fun to write! I imagined a father/son conversation, in which, for the first time in his life, the father was listening to his son and realizing what a wise man this boy had become. And I feel like, for Bail, that's what happened. All of a sudden, Anakin Skywalker wasn't a cocky, arrogant star pilot, but rather, this amazing young man, husband, protector. For a father, I think, seeing that... that would be the most wonderful thing in the world.

I'm going to work on adding some Padme scenes before too long. I really want to show her perspective. I was listening to this song towards the end of writing this chapter, and realized that it perfectly sums up what Padme is thinking right now, talking to Anakin like she did. Tell me what you think. Really focus on the words.

If I could break away, cut the cord, for worse or better
If I could turn the page, at last and say, goodbye forever
But on the other side, of yesterday, beyond the heartache
What if all I am, without the pain, is empty hearted?

Thank you all again! Enjoy this chapter! There will be more!

{trinity6diversia}

Chapter Six

"Padmé, how do you find your accommodations?"

Anakin glanced up at his wife from across the table when Bail spoke. It was the first words spoken thus far in the meal, the two men not wanting to admit how awkward it already was becoming. Padmé did not rush to respond, and when she did, her answer was short.

"They are cozy. Thank you, Bail."

"Padmé," started Anakin, setting down his fork as he spoke. He felt like he was going into occupied territory. "Senator Organa has offered to let us stay for a few days. We can… run interviews and give the media something to talk about."

Padmé's eyes flashed dangerously from across the table, but she feigned calmness as she slowly set down her own fork and faced her husband. Bail took a long draught from his glass of wine and glanced quickly at Anakin, who was the picture of control, except for his stiff shoulders and white knuckles. It was like watching the renowned General Skywalker face Count Dooku, except in this case, it was his wife. This should be interesting.

"What are you suggesting, Anakin?" asked Padmé then. "You saw the schedule. You know that we aren't allowed to stay on one planet more than a day. And we have two weeks. That's fourteen planets we have to get to, and more interviews than that. The media expect it." She paused, her eyes burning holes into him. "I thought you would come up with something better."

"Like what?" asked Anakin. "We were married only yesterday. This ride isn't over yet."

"And when will it be?" asked Padmé. "After I've secured your children in the Jedi Order?"

"No."

"Then when?"

"Soon," he promised, and the look in his eyes told her not to argue with him; that he would take care of her no matter what. "You have to trust me."

"Anakin… I'm miserable." And the sadness that crossed her face, caught only by her husband, said more than words. He said nothing, but glanced at Bail.

"I'll need to contact the Senate and Master Yoda," he said. "They'll wonder what we're doing."

"Already done," answered Bail with a nod of his head. "The Chancellor and Master Windu are livid, but Master Yoda seems to know what you're up to. Can they necessarily blame you?"

"No, they can't," said Anakin. "I appreciate it."

Bail nodded again, then they both turned to Padmé, who was looking at her plate with a look of disgust; there was to be no more ingesting of food tonight, as far as she was concerned. Anakin was the first to speak.

"We're going to stay here for a few days," he said. "Run interviews and everything. Rest as best we can. I've gone through the list and limited the stops that aren't as essential. Aquaris, for example. After here, we'll do Mandalore and Corellia, and finish off with Naboo before returning to Coruscant. Each stay will be at least three days long, enough time for the media to get all the juicy stuff they want, and we don't have to do a whole lot. Besides, your ship… I'd rather not travel all over this galaxy. It's not worth it."

"To the Chancellor it's worth it," contradicted Padmé, but she sounded tired.

"Yeah, well…" Anakin didn't want to say what he thought of Palpatine. He glanced at Bail, who gave him a sickened look that almost made him laugh. He looked back at Padmé. "What do you think?"

"It's… better," she answered. "But the paparazzi. They'll be everywhere."

"We can't avoid that," said Anakin, then glanced back at Bail. "Yet."

"How long do I have to smile for the cameras?" sighed Padmé.

"Why, forever!" grinned Anakin. "You have a lovely smile."

"You know what I mean," she said with a deadly glare, but there was a sparkle in her eyes.

"Just these two weeks, then you can do whatever you want. Kill me if you want to."

"If it would make you happy, dear."

Anakin sent her a look, then Bail pushed back his chair and stood up.

"If you two are done, I think we should spend the rest of this evening in the sitting room by the fire," he said as Anakin and Padmé stood to join him.

"I think I will retire," answered Padmé quietly. "I need decompression time."

"I'm with her," said Anakin. "Thanks for the invite, though."

"Go on ahead, Padmé," said Bail, turning to her. "I'll send Anakin after you in a few minutes." She inclined her head as Bail turned back to Anakin. "My man, I think you and I need to share a cigar tonight. Just for a moment."

Anakin shrugged and followed him to the sitting room, where Bail quickly closed the doors, drew the curtains and procured one of his best cigars, which he lit and puffed on until it was going strong. He handed it to Anakin, who took a long draught and slowly let it out, watching the smoke float away towards the ceiling.

"Anakin, I don't mean to put you on the spot, but…" Bail leaned forward in his chair, looking around, even though there was no one else in the room. "I have to ask. Have you, uh… you know… what they wanted you to, uh… you know…"

"Had sex?"

He leaned back again. "You said it, not me."

Anakin shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not? It's in the contract."

"Not in any contract they let me see."

"But that was the whole point. To get little Force-sensitive babies out of the deal. How else will you do it?"

"I don't know, I guess we'll figure something out." His eyes were joking, though, and Bail could tell.

"So when will you do it? Within a few weeks, you're going to get pressure from both fronts. They're going to expect an announcement almost immediately."

"We're not announcing anything until we announce it on our own," he answered. "And that will be, well, when we want to."

"So what are you waiting for?"

Anakin took another long draught on the cigar, and didn't respond until the smoke had disappeared skyward.

"The right moment. I need to be a husband for a while. Take care of the most important thing right now. Not me, not the Republic, or the Council, and certainly not kids." He paused and shook his head. "You'd think their request would be easy. Just have sex. Get pregnant. Have kids. Simple. No… that's not life, that's breeding."

"And that's exactly what they think."

"Well, it's not right. Padmé is a woman, being used as a prostitute."

"A bit harsh."

"But it's true. Think about it. What they're asking me to do is rape."

"So you won't do it?"

"I'll do it, but on Padmé's time."

There was a moment of silence, in which Bail looked at the ceiling as it swirled slowly with smoke from the cigar.

"You're a good man, Skywalker. Every man could learn something from you, that's for sure. And any woman would be glad to be married to someone like you." He paused. "But you're fighting against something that has the power to destroy you."

"Why would they? I'm this alleged 'Chosen One'. The most Force-sensitive being in the galaxy. They can't kill me. They would be shooting themselves in the foot. And…" He put up a hand to stop any forthcoming comments. "I'm not being arrogant when I say that. I know what they see me as, and I can't change that."

"You're fighting alone against an army."

"I'm not alone."

"Fighting fire with fire?"

"In a way."

"Well, just remember one thing. You are a man, you have a freedom to speak, to do or not to do, to fight or not to fight. No one can tell you what to do. No one. Not even the Chancellor. That's just a right, one that everyone has. And by harnessing this freedom, you're going to gain enemies. Lots of them. With guns and bombs. And just as many allies, with just as many weapons. You have to decide what you're fighting for, and hold onto that."

"I know what I'm fighting for."

"Then never forget. Never let them take that away."

"And they would take it away."

"They could. If you don't do what they're having you do."

There was a moment of silence which enveloped them, then Bail spoke again, with a smile.

"She loves you, Anakin. You did that. Not the Senate or the Order. You. And she'll learn to trust you. Just take care of her."

"Everyday," whispered Anakin, more to himself than Bail. "Forever. I would die for her."

"Then die for her."