Longest update yet. Have I mentioned how I love your reviews? I don't believe I have. I'm terrible about remembering things. If I haven't responded to you personally, I apologize. I forgot who I answered and who I didn't. I am intrigued by your analysis, your criticism, your comments, and your appreciation. It makes me do more of the writing thing. And "angie" - I can't reply to your review directly, but I appreciated your insightful response. You hit the nail square on the head.
He woke with the sunlight in his eyes. He shifted on the sofa, his head throbbing and his back aching. It had hardly been a comfortable place to sleep. He had tossed and turned restlessly the whole night through. It felt completely wrong to be in the safety of his own home yet separated from his wife. There was a time, long ago, when they were in constant physical contact in bed, even while sleeping - his arm around her waist, their backs pressed against one another's, their legs intertwined. For some time, now, they slept so close yet so far apart. Despite the lack of physical contact, sleeping in her presence brought better rest than sleeping alone on the sofa. He wondered if they could ever get back to that point.
Elay quietly exited Amila's room. She took note of Anakin's position and disheveled hair but said nothing as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. A Coruscanti nanny of nobles knew better than to question or to bring to attention marital squabbles and discord. He sighed heavily and sat up, running his fingers through his curls.
He heard their bedroom door slide open and cringed in fear. He wondered if she would be any less cold this morning. He didn't have to wonder for long because she quietly but purposefully strode into the room. Anakin took in the appearance of his beautiful wife who had suddenly aged several years overnight. There were dark circles under her eyes, and though she had made a weak attempt at covering herself with cosmetics, she looked nothing like the Padmé he knew and - yes, still - loved. Her efforts in styling her hair had obviously been half-hearted, and even the dress she had chosen was quite plain.
"Padmé..." he croaked, his voice mired with fatigue.
She stopped and turned her head to look down at him. That same coldness remained in her eyes. He suddenly wished she would yell at him, scream at him, inflict the punishment he knew he deserved. He couldn't bear this lack of emotion. Whatever disconnect from his wife he had felt before was now magnified significantly. He did not want to hurt her, did not want to see her hurting, but this felt all too severe and permanent.
When she spoke, he was transported back to his childhood, strongly reminded of that carefully controlled and intimidating form of speech she employed as Queen of Naboo. "I will be staying in my quarters at the Senate Building. I will not be returning for quite some time."
He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the protests of his tired, sore muscles. "Padmé, listen to me-"
"I am confident that Elay will see to the children and you..." The gaze she leveled on him betrayed no emotion and yet conveyed a strong sense of distaste and contempt. "You may do with yourself whatever you see fit."
"Please, let me explain-" He moved towards her, and as he got closer, she flinched slightly and took a step back.
"There is nothing to explain. You said enough last night."
"Padmé, I am sorry. I wish I could... I just..." He fumbled for words, feeling the immense pressure of knowing that soon she would be gone, and he might lose all chances of reconciliation.
"I am not interested in having this conversation," she said dismissively, turning to move away from him.
Reflexively, he reached out, pulling her back towards him with a hand on her waist. "My love-"
Her hands circled around his wrists in an instant, and he was surprised by the strength of her grasp. Her eyes blazed with a fire of emotions he had never seen before, but the tone of her voice was still controlled and hard. "Don't you dare call me that," she seethed. "Don't..." He thought she might say more, but she dropped his wrists abruptly and turned to leave the apartment. He stood staring after her long after she exited the room, his thoughts jumbled and crushing all at once.
Only when Elay politely and quietly cleared her throat was he broken from his reverie. He numbly turned his head to see the nanny standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
"Shall I get the children up, Master Skywalker, or shall I allow them to sleep a bit longer?"
The children. They were already feeling the absence of their mother with her long days in her office. How would they be affected now? He could hardly stand to think of it. "Yes," he mumbled numbly. "Yes, let them sleep." He stumbled away to his bedroom to ready himself for the day.
Anakin successfully avoided Ayana for several days, excusing himself from certain meetings or purposefully "forgetting" to send her an invite to others. He knew the avoidance could only last so long - and only as long as she allowed it. He hadn't seen Padmé in just as much time, and each time their children asked for their mother, he broke a little more inside. He had done this. He was tearing apart their family. Now he had no idea what he could - or should - do. There was certainly no way he could continue working with Ayana, but for either of them to abandon the new Jedi Order would be out of the question. At the same time, though the Jedi were certainly changing to reflect the times, he had a feeling this sort of indiscretion would not be overlooked if it became public knowledge. Sure, the nobles and elite of Coruscant were known to dabble in less than virtuous affairs, and honestly, the public would probably be intrigued and entertained by the scandal, but he didn't think the fragile Order could handle such a galactic embarrassment. All their hard work thus far could be dashed to pieces.
She found him in one of the lesser used meditation chambers. He had purposefully escaped there to avoid company, and she had apparently ascertained his intentions. She didn't immediately speak but took her place on a meditation pedestal, folding her legs beneath her. He knew ignoring her wouldn't make her go away, but he tried it, anyway.
"I know you've been avoiding me," she quietly broke the silence at last.
"I had no choice," was his simple reply. He kept his eyes firmly closed and did not change position.
"Anakin... I'm sorry. I truly am," she insisted. Her apology sounded sincere enough, but he still chose not to respond. "If I had known..." She cleared her throat nervously. "If I had known how you felt, I wouldn't...I wouldn't have..."
"Tried to seduce me?" His words came out flat, not quite an accusation.
"That's not..." She sighed heavily. "Okay, yes, that's how it seemed. I know that. But that wasn't my aim. I just..." He sat unmoving in the silence as she continued to struggle for the right words to say. "I've fallen for you. I didn't mean to... I mean, sure in Hutt Space, things are different. The lines are a lot more blurred than they are here. That's... that's not an excuse. I mean, I know things are different here - I just..."
She paused, and though he refused to open his eyes, he could feel her focused stare. "Anakin, I truly do love you. More than I have ever loved anyone else. More than I ever thought I could. Growing up on Nar Shaddaa... abandoned by my parents... I learned I couldn't trust people. I never let people get too close. But you... you have been so kind to me since I arrived. You've helped train me, you've taught me so much... I don't think I could help falling for you."
She sniffed, and he suddenly realized she was crying. "I feel so stupid now... I... I should have known. I assumed too much. I hoped too much. I knew you and your wife were having problems, even if you never really said so. I could feel it, I could sense it. I thought... I don't know what I thought. I was too bold, too brazen, too foolish. And for what I have done to you, I am sorry."
He opened his eyes at last and took in the sight of the small, helpless girl before him. The weight of his role in this disaster finally weighed upon him fully. He had failed to set clear boundaries. He had failed to recognize the real danger in getting too close to someone he knew was so vulnerable, despite her insistent pretense of strength and self-assuredness. He had, in fact, welcomed the attention he had not received in far too long. He had selfishly and thoughtlessly destroyed not one but two women who had trusted him implicitly. Yet he could not find the words to say so. "You shouldn't be here," was all he found he could say.
She huffed in annoyance. "Anakin, I'm not going to pounce on you. That's not why I came here."
Breathing deep, he stared at her intently. "Then why did you come here?"
Her mouth twisted into a sad, wistful smile. She shrugged and wiped away a stray tear. "I came here to apologize." He broke eye contact, casting his eyes downwards to the floor. A brief period of silence ensued. She was again the first to break it. "I'm leaving. Shaak Ti is being sent to Dantooine to search the old Jedi Enclave. It is thought there may be useful information hidden in the ruins. And there's rumors of other Jedi ruins on the planet." Another pause, punctuated by Ayana's deep breath. "I volunteered to accompany her. It is likely I will be gone for quite some time."
Anakin nodded slowly at this revelation, a sense of relief flooding his body. Perhaps reconciliation would be possible once Padmé realized Ayana was truly out of the way.
"I hope... I hope this helps you. I'm not sure if you... well... have you told... her?"
"Yes," he muttered, still avoiding her eyes. "I haven't heard from her since."
"Oh, Anakin..." She sighed heavily. "I wish..." She didn't finish her thought. Instead, she got to her feet, but she didn't immediately leave. "I'll be leaving in the morning. I really am very sorry. I hope you can fix things with her." She stayed for a moment, as if waiting for a response, but when he had none, she turned to go.
"Ayana." His voice stopped her just as she reached the door. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... for everything." She froze but did not turn back towards him. He knew he couldn't allow her to leave shouldering all of the blame. "I cared too much," he admitted. "I realize now how shameful my actions were. I led you on. And for that... I am sorry, as well."
He thought he heard her stifle a sob, but he couldn't be sure. She slipped out of the room without another word and without looking back. Anakin took a deep breath and stared down at his hands. This was something no amount of meditation could heal.
"Master Skywalker, she's asked that she not be disturbed."
"I don't care, Typho, let me through."
Captain Typho stubbornly stood in the Jedi's way, completely immune to the determined and slightly menacing look in Anakin's eyes. "I can't do that."
"She's my wife," Anakin replied hotly.
"Yes, and she's specifically requested that you not be allowed access to her office under any circumstances." It was glaringly obvious where Captain Typho's loyalties lay, and even though he had previously been an ally of Anakin's, when push came to shove, he answered to the Senator only.
"Don't make me move you," Anakin growled, his eyes darkening.
"Do as you wish, sir, but I'll not be moved willingly."
The man was bold. Anakin, under any other circumstances, would have appreciated having such a strong man defending and protecting his wife - a man who would go toe to toe with a Jedi to enforce her requests. Under these circumstances, however, he found the man to be impossible and infuriating.
"Fine, have it your way." With a simple nudge in the Force, the man before him slumped to the floor. Anakin stepped over him and punched in the passcode perhaps too aggressively. The door opened with a satisfying whoosh. She should have had the presence of mind to change the passcode if she really wished to keep him out.
He found her at her desk, head in her hands. She looked up at him, startled at first, and then angry. "What have you done with Captain Typho?" she demanded sharply.
Anakin cast a glance over his shoulder at the crumpled figure on the ground. "He'll be fine. He's taking a short nap."
Her eyes narrowed. "How dare you." Her fists met her desk with a hard thump as she stood.
"How else was I going to get through to my wife?" he asked dryly, closing the door behind him.
"Oh, I'm your wife, now?" she taunted, circling her desk and charging across the room towards him. "I thought you had forgotten."
"I thought you had forgotten," he replied a bit more bitterly than intended.
"I'm not the one with a problem keeping it in my pants," she spat heatedly. "A little fan girl falls into your lap, and you just can't resist, can you?"
The reasonable side of Anakin realized he deserved this. The less reasonable side, the heartbroken, aching, and defensive side that terribly missed what they used to have, was impatient, deprived of his wife's affections, and far less understanding. "Right, and your head of security is in love with you," he rejoined.
She laughed mirthlessly. "At least he's loyal."
All the pointed jabs, all the insults, all the hateful words she had thrown at him in the past several months paled in comparison to this vibroblade she dug deep into his chest. For a moment, he questioned everything. Could she actually have fallen for this man? For just a split second, he tasted only a small sample of the heartache he had served her so recently. "Padmé..."
"Why are you even here?" she cut him off coldly. "If I wanted to see you, I would have-"
"What? Come home, finally? Visited your children? Or even at least attempted to contact your children?" His pointed words stopped her in her tracks and silenced her, at least momentarily. "Are you punishing them too?" he asked a bit more gently.
She stared up at him with an unreadable expression, breathing heavily. "That's not..."
"Padmé, please," he begged, "just come home." She looked as if she might give in for just a moment, so he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to her. He lay his mechanical on her waist and caressed her neck with his flesh hand. As soon as skin touched skin, she jerked away.
"Don't touch me!" she shrieked.
"Padmé-"
"Don't put your hands on me. Don't touch me. Not when your hands have been..." She choked on the words and turned away from him. "Not when your hands have been on her."
"Padmé-"
"You should go. You should leave. Now."
"Please, I just-"
"I can't look at you," she cut him off, her voice cracking. "Knowing what you did... I can't."
He hated this. He despised himself for doing this to her - to them. He could not bear this distance between them, which seemed to stretch the length of the entire galaxy. He didn't know what he should do. He just wanted to fix this.
"Can we ever... will you... are you ever going to come home?" It sounded like a weak plea. He was embarrassed at his lack of composure, especially considering her indifference.
"I don't know." Her voice was barely a whisper thrown over her slumped shoulders.
The ensuing silence was deafening and, to him, felt like the end of everything. He didn't care who was to blame any longer. He didn't care where it started or who started it. Every bone in his body aches for her to come back to him. He just wanted to hold her once again.
"She's gone," he told her. "She left this morning for Dantooine. She won't be back for a long while."
Padmé answered him with silence. She didn't even budge.
"I don't know if that makes a difference," he went on lamely. "I just... I wanted you to know."
Nothing. She gave him no acknowledgment whatsoever.
"Padmé... I love you. I made a horrible mistake. I don't love her - I never did. I never felt for her the way I feel for you." He longed to reach out to her again, to prove to her that his words were true. He didn't even know if these were the right words to say. He didn't know if it would make a difference. He just knew he had to try. "I'm sorry for what I've done. I don't know what to do. You pushed me away, and I-"
She whirled on him then, her eyes fiery and pained. "You're saying this is all my fault?"
"No, I-"
"I pushed you to do this, did I?" she pressed, her voice raising in pitch.
"That's not what I meant-"
"Of course that's what you meant! That's what you've been thinking all along!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. He watched her sadly, drawing a scoff from her lips. "Don't look at me like that. Don't pity me," she warned him, shaking her head. "I know what you've been thinking. I know what everyone thinks. I'm a horrible mother, I'm a terrible wife, I'm failing as a Senator-"
"Padmé, my love, no one thinks that."
"They do! I can see it in their eyes." Her expression darkened further with each word. "I can see it in your eyes."
He didn't know what to say. She had certainly done her best to keep him out and push him as far away as possible, but that hardly meant she was responsible for his poor decisions. He didn't think there was any way he could explain this that she might believe. Immediately, she took his silence as confirmation.
"This is the last time I'm asking, Anakin. Just go." She didn't wait for him to comply this time. She escaped into an adjoining room and shut the door behind her, decisively ending the conversation.
Anakin heard the door slide open behind him and turned to see a very disgruntled and slightly groggy Captain Typho behind him. "I know you're in love with my wife," he intoned with carefully moderated anger. He turned on his heel and moved to exit the room. "Don't assume that this is your opportunity. It's not."
Captain Typho grumbled in response. "Apology accepted."
Hmm, longest update thus far. We ain't out of the woods yet. Oh and I've purposefully refrained from any kind of physical description of Ayana. I figure I'll leave her up to your minds and interpretations. Hey, she could even be a Twi'lek for all we know!
