Chapter 33

Leia tried to sleep, but sleep was hard to come by these days. The bitter cold permeated the massive center that the Rebels had built, despite their best efforts to insulate it. She had been accustomed to living in comfort. Having to wear clothes in layers just to avoid frostbite was something she was not accustomed to. Yet, she had made the choice to stay with the Alliance, a choice which she did not regret. She was tough, after all, she was a Skywalker; so she put up with the cold, accepted that she needed to wear multiple layers of clothing in order to get warm enough just to fall asleep. This night, however, the cold was not the main reason for her inability to sleep.

She had met her mother earlier that day. Meeting her should have been a happy, joyous event; but instead it had only served to add to the already considerable animosity Leia felt towards her adoptive father.

Bail Organa had tried several times over the past few days to contact Leia, but she had not responded to him. The resentment she felt towards him was bitter indeed. Not only had she herself been deprived of the presence of her real mother in her life, but her mother had spent the past twenty years in lonely isolation, the victim of a corrupt opportunist who had taken advantage of her condition to fatten his own portfolio. And that was something she couldn't forgive.

Leia turned over onto her side, wrapping her arms tightly around her self, trying to get warm. The image of her mother's face would not leave her mind. She could not get over how much she looked like her mother; she felt as though she were looking at herself sometime in the future. She has no idea what happened to Father, Leia reflected. She had no knowledge of Darth Vader, or Mustafar, or any of the dark days that helped define her existence for the past two decades. Leia worried how her mother would react when she did find out; would it result in a relapse? And what of Leia and Luke's father? Would he lose his angel again once she learned the truth? The depth of the love her father bore her mother staggered Leia; he had sacrificed so much for her. How would he bear it if she pushed him away now? Would it drive him into the Darkness once again? I cannot lose my father again…I won't lose him again, no matter what.

Naboo-Naberrie home

Jobal returned to her home to find her younger daughter in an uncommonly good mood. Padmé told her mother all about having met Luke and Leia, and how she had decided to go to the lake retreat with Anakin. Jobal was relieved to hear that Padmé was beginning to accept Anakin, that she trusted him and was willing to spend time alone with him in an attempt to remember her past life with him.

It was evening before all the preparations had been made for the journey into the Lake District, and so Anakin and Padmé decided to put it off until the next morning, reasoning that they did not wish to be traveling such a great distance in the dark.

Part of the preparation for the voyage entailed a trip into town to buy some provisions. Ryoo took the day off from work to take her aunt and grandmother into town. Anakin was amazed that Padmé felt compelled to buy more clothes. It seemed that she was becoming more like her old self again.

Padmé found Anakin puttering around in the garage when she returned. He looked up from his tinkering when she entered the garage.

"Did you leave anything in the shop?" he asked her with a grin.

"A few things," she replied with a smile.

"Very considerate of you," he teased. He looked down at the half assembled droid he'd been working on. "I wonder what happened to this poor fellow," he said.

Padmé looked at the droid, an image of it helping her mother in the kitchen jumping to her mind.

"I…I remember it," she said at last.

Anakin looked at her. "Really?" he said. "What do you remember?"

"Not much; I just remember seeing it in the kitchen…it was helping my mother. I was very young at the time I think."

Anakin nodded. "That makes sense," he replied. "It was probably a protocol droid. Threepio helped my mother in the kitchen on occasion."

"Threepio?"

"A protocol droid I built for my mother," he explained, "to help her."

"You built a droid?" Padmé asked in amazement.

Anakin nodded. "I was always rather good at building and fixing things," he replied.

"Yes, obviously," she responded. "Does she still have Threepio? Your mother?"

Anakin looked down at the droid, as the image of his mother's face as she lay dying in his arms came to mind. "My mother died many years ago," he told her.

"Oh…I'm sorry," Padmé replied awkwardly. "I had no idea."

Anakin looked up at his wife. "Don't apologize," he said. "You didn't know. It was a long time ago, before we were even married."

Padmé nodded her understanding. "How did she die?"

Anakin sighed, willing himself to be strong as he recalled the horrific events that lead up to the death of his mother. "She was captured by Tusken Raiders," he told her. "Savage, nomadic beasts that are indigenous to my home world. I wasn't there to help her, to save her, not until it was too late to do so. They held her as their prisoner for weeks. She died in my arms minutes after I found her."

"Oh, Ani," she said softly, her heart aching for him. "That's so…"

Anakin looked at her suddenly. "What did you call me?"

"What?" she asked. "I…I called you..."

"You called me Ani," he told her. "You called me Ani!"

"I did?" she asked, not understanding the significance of what she had done.

Anakin nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Yes," he told her. "You did. It's the nickname you and my mother called me. No one else ever called me that, so there's no way you could have heard it from someone. You're starting to remember, Padmé, there's no doubt of it."

Padmé smiled. "I can't believe it," she said. "For twenty years I haven't been able to remember anything, and in the past few days the memories been returning steadily. It's incredible!"

"It's because you stopped those meds," he reminded her. "That was what repressed your memory, Padmé."

"I know," she replied. "What I don't understand is why. Why did Palo want my memory repressed? What advantage did it give him?"

"He wanted you to be dependent upon him," Anakin replied, "so that you would let him control you, and your money."

Padmé was silent as she considered this. "Anakin, what caused me to lose my memory?" she asked. "What happened to me?"

Anakin had known that it was only a matter of time before she asked him the question; and yet he still had no idea how to respond to it. There was no simple answer, no easy way to explain what had happened to her, not without telling her the whole ugly story, not without telling her about Mustafar. And while Anakin planned to do just that, he felt that it was too soon; she was not strong enough yet to know the whole truth. Yet, she needed some sort of explanation, and he was not about to leave her in the dark. After all, the past twenty years of her life had been defined by what had happened to her on Polis Massa.

"You nearly died, Padmé," he told her at last. "You had a very difficult time giving birth to Luke and Leia, and the complications you suffered from the trauma caused you to slip into a coma. The doctors did not think you would survive. You were in that coma for almost two weeks, and when you awoke, you had no memory of where you were, what had happened, or your previous life."

Padmé felt as though all the warmth had fled her body. Anakin was startled by the look in her eyes, and reached out to steady her. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, reproaching himself for telling her too much too soon.

"I think so," she replied. "So Luke and Leia…what happened to them? If I did not remember them, how did I care for them?"

Anakin sighed. "You didn't," he told her. "You left Polis Massa shortly after you awoke from the coma, and came here. Palo found you in Theed, and brought you to his facility, where you spent the past twenty years."

"But the twins?" she asked, desperate for answers, and yet afraid to know them. "What happened to my babies? I left them? How could I just leave them?"

"You didn't leave them, Padmé," he told her gently. "As I said, the doctors thought you were never going to survive, and they allowed the twins to be taken by people whom you had known and trusted. They were raised by good people, Padmé; people who loved them and protected them."

This brought her some comfort, but it was insignificant compared to the dull ache in her heart caused by the knowledge that she had never had a hand in raising her children. "So even if I had never lost my memory, I would have no memory of my own children," she said quietly. "Just their birth, and then….nothing."

"I'm so sorry, Padmé," Anakin said, holding her arms gently. "I know this is very difficult for you to hear; perhaps I should have waited to tell you."

Padmé shook her head. "No," she replied. "I need to know, Ani," she said. "I won't live like this any more. I must know what happened, even if it is painful to hear."

Anakin nodded his understanding. Will you feel the same way Padmé when I tell you the rest of the story?

"Let's go inside," he said. "It's starting to rain again. You can show me your new acquisitions," he suggested, trying to lighten her mood.

"I'm not really up to it right now," she told him as they walked towards the house.

Anakin could sense that what he had told her had made her extremely upset. And it was not just what he had told her that bothered her, but rather what he had not told her.

"Okay," he said at last. "Do you need some help packing" he asked, suddenly feeling awkward with her.

"I think I'll ask my mother to help me finish packing," she said once they were inside. "Thank you anyway."

"Very well," he said, watching her go, his heart heavy as he heard her silent question: where were you when this was happening, Anakin?

Padmé headed to her room, barely holding her emotions in check. She sat down on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling from the emotion Anakin's disclosure had elicited.

"Padmé? Are you alright?" Jobal asked, stepping into the room.

Padmé looked up at her mother, the tears filling her eyes. "No," she said softly. "I'm not."

Jobal came over to the bed at once and sat down beside her daughter. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Anakin told me what happened to me," Padmé told her mother. "He told me what happened when Luke and Leia were born."

"I see," Jobal replied. "That must have been difficult for you to hear."

Padmé shook her head. "I can't believe I missed my children's entire lives," she said. "Why did this happen to me?"

Jobal could sense her anger and frustration, and she put an arm around her shoulder. "Sometimes childbirth is dangerous, Padmé," she explained gently. "Sometimes…"

"No, that's not what I mean," Padmé said, standing up suddenly. She paced around in the room. "Where was Anakin when this was happening to me? Where was my husband, the father of my children when I was going through all that? Why wasn't he there to look after me, to take care of our children?"

"Why didn't you ask him that yourself?" Jobal asked. "It is obviously bothering you."

"Of course it's bothering me!" Padmé exclaimed. "How else should I feel? My husband, who claims to love me, was not there for me when I needed him most!"

"Sit down, Padmé," Jobal suggested. "You need to calm down."

Padmé sat down, her body tense with anger.

"Anakin is a Jedi Knight," Jobal began. "You know this already."

Padmé nodded. "I know," she said. "What has that got to do with this?"

"Everything," Jobal continued. "All of this occurred during the Clone Wars, a terrible conflict that tore the galaxy apart. The Jedi Knights were the only thing that stood between democracy and the tyranny that would eventually triumph over it. Anakin was a great hero, Padmé; they called him The Hero with no Fear, for he was renown throughout the galaxy for his bravery and his skill as a warrior. When you were giving birth to Luke and Leia, he was injured, and nearly died himself. He had no idea what you were going through, Padmé; he was near death himself. And when he awoke, he was told that you had died."

"How do you know all this?" she asked.

"Because he told me," Jobal replied. "When he found out that you were alive, he came looking for you, and his search brought him here."

Padmé felt her anger leaving her, only to be replaced with a feeling of utter sadness. "I had no idea," she said softly. "So it seems he has lost as much as I have."

Jobal nodded. "Yes, I think he has," she agreed.

The terrible sense of loss was overwhelming, and it rendered Padmé speechless for a moment.

"Think of it this way," Jobal suggested, taking Padmé's hand. "You found one another. Yes, the past twenty years have slipped away, and can never be brought back. But you have one another now, you have your children. Perhaps it is time to focus on the future rather than the past."

Padmé nodded. "I need to talk to him," she said, feeling badly for her coldness earlier. "I was rather abrupt with him earlier."

Jobal nodded. "He is a patient man," she observed. "He will understand."

"I hope so," Padmé replied, standing up. She looked down at her mother. "Thanks Mom," she said.

Jobal smiled as she watched Padmé leave the room. "What are mother's for?"