Note from the Author
Another great chapter from DawnsJediWind! I added a bit of my own stuff, too, but the basic chapter is all her, which is awesome. She threw in some great ideas, some unexpected plot twists, and overall awesomeness. I added the humor and sarcasm. As usual. Be sure to check her out and comment on her stories!
As always, be sure to comment on this chapter. I have another one coming up, also written by DJW, and after that, who knows! Hopefully, a lot. :)
{trinity6diversia}
Chapter Eighteen
The J-class Nubian yacht descended gradually into the thick atmosphere of Coruscant, the lights of the city-planet below bouncing off its chromium exterior. It was flanked on either side by two Naboo starfighters. The Queen had insisted they accompany them on the return journey to Coruscant. Anakin had not asked for the escort; he could took care of any attack by himself. But both the Queen and Padmé had insisted on the extra security, so he gave in. Despite the overall peacefulness of their past two weeks, it could not be ignored that the Republic was still at war, and the conflict started, and would assuredly end, on Coruscant. There was also the growing trouble with the Supreme Chancellor, all of which heighted the possibility of assassination attempts on the lives of numerous Senators and military commanders. Anakin himself was certainly not loved by those who sided with the Separatists and their cause.
As soon as he had been granted air clearance onto Coruscant, Anakin steered the ship easily down onto the platform reserved for them. He breathed a very small sigh of relief, glad he had not scratched Padmé's precious ship, not that she would have killed him either way, then rose and left the cockpit in search of his wife, leaving Artoo in charge of locking and securing the ship. He found Padmé checking the last of the baggage, making certain she was not leaving anything behind. She was dressed in one of her elaborate Senatorial gowns, the kind she usually wore while the Senate was in session, since that would be the first place she would return to as soon as the media interviews were finished. Anakin cringed at the idea of having to sit through more interviews; the stay on Naboo had not been long enough for his taste.
"Ready?" The cameras and media hounds were waiting for them right down the boarding ramp, along with thousands of cameras broadcasting their arrival live on the Holonet. This was a bigger deal than the Podrace Championship Game, and everyone would be watching them. There was no way they would ever be allowed on Coruscant unwelcomed by the media again. Unless there was a battle over Coruscant, and the media were all shot down, Anakin thought sourly. After Naboo, he would stand no more of the media prying into their affairs; Naboo had been a warning to the Galactic social-media; next time Anakin would not be so merciful. The Dark Side played no part in this; if the media tried to encroach upon their privacy again, he would make sure a great many people lost their limbs.
Padmé nodded as Anakin reached down to pick up a load of suitcases. She stiffened as Anakin stood up, adjusting his load. He felt a suddenly overwhelming amount of worry and frustration from her through the Force, and sent her a warm tendril of affection and peace through the bond they had established since the events on Naboo. Her anger at his actions the day before had dissipated with sleep, and it didn't matter anyway; Anakin couldn't be tamed.
It'll be alright, Anakin assured her. Just stay close by and I'll take care of you.
"I know," said Padmé, looking sadly up at him, but she smiled anyway. "I love you."
"I love you too, Angel." Anakin leaned over and kissed the top of her head before pulling away. Padmé's new nickname had not been premeditated, nor had it bothered her, for it reminded her who was now, and probably would always be, the first priority in Anakin Skywalker's life. He grinned as her train of thought reached him, then started down the boarding ramp, closely followed by his wife, carrying the last few things, and the dogs, bounding less rambunctiously after them.
Anakin was nearly blinded by the swarm of lights that flashed in his face as he stepped out. He glanced back to make sure Padmé was behind him, and found her covering her face from the flashes, her lips set in a tight grimace. Oh great, the Chancellor is going to love these photos. He groaned inwardly; his hands were full. He wished he could disable the cameras like he had before, but this was the big news story, the thing that made the Republic forget what the real problem was, and if he did anything now, he would unleash hell. It helped too, seeing Obi-Wan pushing his way through the crowd towards them, a familiar face in a sea of absurdity.
"Obi-wan!" Anakin called over the noise of reporters and cameras.
"Anakin, this way," Obi-wan said, grabbing a bag with one hand and Padmé's arm with the other, pulling her between them in an attempt to partially protect her from the cameras. He and Anakin pushed through the crowd in the direction of the waiting Jedi speeder, throwing the bags haphazardly into the back, then the dogs, then helping Padmé in last. Obi-Wan lowered his voice and spoke quickly to Anakin. "The Chancellor is here, Anakin. He wants to see you—both of you."
"Let's just get away from here first," said Anakin, sliding into the driver's seat almost out of habit, because Obi-Wan never stopped him anymore. Obi-Wan took the passenger's seat, glancing back to make sure Padmé was settled. She must have been; both dogs were curled up on either side of her, their heads on her lap, eyes half closed as she lazily stroked back their ears. Almost as if this whole media frenzy thing was old news, except for Thunder's ears, which flicked every time someone yelled a question their way.
And then they were gone, racing through the skies of Coruscant in the general direction of the Senate Building.
"Anakin?" Padmé's voice soothed his anger easier than he thought possible.
"Huh?"
"You remember how I want a jet tub and that bed from Corellia, right?"
"Yep."
"Can you add a speeder with a closed top and tinted windows to that list?"
Anakin laughed. "Of course, my love. But I thought you already had one."
"Not one that you can drive."
"Then I'll get one for you," he said, his voice making the promise official, then shared a quick glance in the rearview finder with his wife, who smiled softly back at him. It amazed him to no end how quickly his anger dissipated when she was around.
They were at the Senate Building faster than Anakin thought possible, and waiting for them were even more reporters, nearly twice as many as the landing platform, from what Anakin could see. The Chancellor and several of his Senators, minions, Anakin privately thought, were waiting for them, standing as if at a funeral. Anakin forced a smile which looked most realistic onto his face, knowing Padmé was probably doing the same, and greeted the Chancellor as genuinely as possible. Anakin was not an expert when it came to politics – he was glad to be married to Padmé for that and other reasons – but the knowledge that the Chancellor was more than he seemed was enough to convince Anakin to vote for someone else, if the opportunity ever arose.
All of this isn't natural. Obi-Wan's words rang in Anakin's mind as he fell into step with his old master. Padmé was already deep in conversation with the Chancellor. Anakin quickly realized that the camera flashes didn't seem abnormal in the great expanse of the Senate Building. What bothered him most was that before any of this had happened, he and Chancellor had been on relatively good terms. Anakin now questioned the wisdom of that friendship, and wondered what the Chancellor's motives were for him – and for Padmé. He knew that the Chancellor had been behind the arranged marriage, and was a terrific force of pressure in the plot for Skywalker children, but Anakin sensed there was sometime more; the Chancellor was not finished with him, not yet.
"Anakin, you seemed troubled," Obi-wan quietly said, his voice pulling his young apprentice back to the present.
"Sorry, Master," Anakin answered apologetically. "I'm just… tired."
Obi-wan nodded. "And I iron my underwear."
"What?"
"Relax, Anakin. I understand. All of this must be exhausting for you and Padmé, and I'm afraid it will only get worse. But I don't get the sense that you're all that tired."
"You… iron your underwear?"
"Focus, Anakin."
"Well do you?"
"Why on earth would I do that?"
"Well… you vacuum the main hall of the Jedi Temple after every mission. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen off the deep end."
"I deny any involvement with that."
"They got it on camera."
"Shit."
"I ran intervention, remember?"
"We weren't talking about me, Anakin; we were talking about you."
"And what about me?" Anakin asked, although he could already guess the answer.
"The Council demands an explanation from you for the accident on Naboo, as well as for why Padmé hasn't become pregnant yet. I'm afraid they're very insistent. I tried talking to Master Windu about leaving you alone, but you know how he is. Apparently, they think having sex is as easy as flying a starfighter. For you, at least."
"Well, we're not necessarily on friendly terms with Master Windu. Me for my lack of procreation. And you for… other reasons."
Obi-wan hid a smile, but said in all seriousness; "Be obedient, Anakin. The Council expects you to take this seriously."
"I know, Master. Force help how much I know."
It was mid-afternoon by the time Anakin and Padmé were able to get away from the media and their interviews. Padmé went to the Senate meeting scheduled that afternoon, which apparently was a report from the front lines, and Anakin to the Jedi Temple, and a dreaded Council Meeting. The Chancellor hadn't really wanted to see Anakin, only wished to look him in the eye, as if that would tell him anything. Anakin guessed it didn't, because he was greeted by a grimace.
"Don't do it again, Master Skywalker," the Chancellor said finally. "I pay those reporters good money for what they do. No more injuries. No more broken cameras."
Anakin had always hated facing the Council, even when they were on good terms, which this time they were not. As soon as he entered the Council Chamber, he feltthe very air steam with the sheer pressure of annoyance and displeasure. He forced himself to stay calm and not to roll his eyes, a habit he had tried valiantly to break before… and failed. Anakin strode to the center of the room, clasped his hands behind his back, and waited.
There was silence for several very long minutes, in which Anakin began to wonder if he had stunned or annoyed the Council into speechlessness. That would have been a first. And it certainly would have made his day.
"Disobedient and reckless, you are," said Yoda.
That just had to be the first thing you pointed out… again.
"Tempted to put you on probation, I am," Yoda continued dryly.
The last statement got under Anakin's skin. He would not bow his head and humbly submit to the decisions of the Council just because of something he believed was right.
Anakin turned to Master Yoda, a spark of anger in his eyes. "For what? Protecting Senator Amidala from the idiotic media. I think none of you understand what I'm going through and what reason I give for my actions."
"Please," said Mace Windu in that casual voice that made Anakin just want to punch him. "Explain it to us."
Anakin felt annoyance at Windu, but he shoved that feeling deep down for later, and said without a moment of hesitation, "I will, Masters." He paused. "It was this very Council that ordered me to marry Senator Amidala, for the only reason being to mass-produce my midichloriancount for the next generation of Jedi." A flicker of bewilderment passed through the Council's eyes as they realized Anakin knew very well what their intensions had been for him, and it pleased the young Jedi Knight. "I have respected your wishes, and married the Senator. But I will not tolerate you ordering anything beyond that, nor will I tolerate you judging me for what I do to protect my wife. I will not have the media crawling all over us, or any other dirty rat who thinks it worth their while to mess with me. Now, if you can't understand that, I advise you to get married yourself!" And this last comment was directed towards Master Windu, a man Anakin couldn't imagine loving any woman, ever, in his entire life.
"That is absurd, Skywalker," Windu said, his voice calm, but his eyes flashing at the indignity of the idea.
"Is it? Why do I get the marital problems and no one else in here?" He glanced around at the rest of the Council.
"Trouble in paradise, there is?" asked Yoda, only his eyes laughing so Master Windu would not see his amusement.
"Well… no," admitted Anakin a little adamantly.
"Understand this, you must, Skywalker. A reputation, you must keep, and that of the Senator's. Dark times, these are. Good, heroic, the people must see you as, even in your affairs with the Senator. Capable of your Council's wishes, and the Republic, you must be. But sense, I do, there is more you wish to say. Of the Senator, I sense. Speak, Skywalker, and hear your argument, we will."
Anakin bowed his head. Of the two, he could stand Yoda a hell of a lot better than Windu, despite his green master's habit of speaking in backward riddles.
"I'm not ready to bring a child into the Senator's life. She's not ready. Force knows she isn't. Not yet. And these things take time; we're still getting to know each other. The Senator and I will conceive when we're ready, and we're currently not."
Yoda nodded. "Understand this, I do. But not so for the Council and Chancellor. To the front lines, soon you must return. Pregnant the Senator must become. Die, you might."
Anakin frowned, but said nothing; there was nothing he could say.
"Understand this, you must," Yoda continued wisely. "Right decision, you will make. Of that, certain, I am."
"Yes, Master," Anakin said, bowing stiffly, then left without another word, the defeat strong to him, and the loneliness bitter.
"You must understand how this is for your own good," Obi-Wan said, later that evening after he had come by Padmé apartment to talk with Anakin.
"I know," said Anakin, annoyed not only by Obi-Wan by also by the fact that he had a raging headache and the apartment was suddenly too damn uncomfortable for his liking. He rubbed his temple and ran a hand through his hair, sinking into the sofa with a sigh.
"This isn't all about Padmé, is it?" Obi-Wan sat down across from him.
Anakin rested his head back and closed his eyes, glad that the balcony curtains to the living room were open so that a breeze could come in. The sun had set, but the sky was still pink on the edges.
"Do you care to tell me?" Obi-Wan asked. Anakin could feel that his master was understandably worried about him.
Anakin sighed again. "I'm worried about the Chancellor and his motives. We used to be close, before the war, and now I'm beginning to wonder why. Heads of government are usually not so close to their military leaders, especially Jedi. I don't trust him, Obi-Wan, nor do I trust the Council. They're up to something, I feel it. But the Chancellor is worse. Something isn't right about him."
"Perhaps," Obi-wan agreed. "I don't entirely trust either of them. Words have been spoken, actions have been made that aren't entirely the Jedi way. The outcry from Windu earlier has made me wonder…" His voice drifted to silence as he sensed Padmé's approach.
Anakin opened his eyes, but didn't move as Padmé appeared from the direction of their bedroom.
"Obi-Wan, it's so nice to see you again," she said, her diplomatic Senatorial training clear in her calm voice. "Will you be staying for dinner? We are eating late tonight."
"Oh, goodness no. There was a Giju slider eating competition at Dex's today, and well, let's just say I didn't win. I just stopped by to talk with Anakin. I will be going now, to catch up on my beauty sleep. You should too, Senator." Obi-Wan smiled kindly at Padmé, bowing as he did so, then turned to Anakin, and said, "I think I will speak with Master Yoda on this matter. I think we can trust him."
Anakin nodded, without standing up; his legs suddenly didn't want to work. "Goodnight, Master."
"Goodnight, Anakin."
And then there was silence, broken only by Padmé showing Obi-Wan out of the apartment. Before the door closed behind him, though, Anakin raised his voice.
"Giju slider competition? That must have been something to see."
"You missed out, I'm afraid. It was the fried blubberbird egg that finally took me out."
"And that's exactly why I don't live with you anymore, Obi-Wan."
Grabbing a pillow, Anakin laid against the sofa's arm, listening as Padmé said goodnight to Obi-Wan and the door closed behind him. The next thing Anakin knew, Padmé was sitting down beside him on the sofa.
"What was that all about?" she asked, worry edging her voice.
Anakin sighed, not ready or willing to find the energy he needed to speak. Padmé had enough concerns of her own.
"Nothing, sweetie." Yet.
He could tell that Padmé was displeased with his answer. "Anakin, if we're going to make this work, we'd better start right. Whatever's going on, I want to know." When Anakin didn't reply, Padmé softened her voice and reached over to stroke back his hair. "Anakin, don't do this. Don't shut me out. Let me help you."
Anakin sighed and reached out for her. "I'm not pushing you away. I just… don't want you to worry." He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her down beside him, kissing her forehead. "It'll be fine, Padmé, I promise. We'll make this work… somehow."