To all my reviewers, you're amazing, and I adore you. To the guest reviewer, you are absolutely right. And some women experience PPD in the first pregnancy but none thereafter, while some women are fine the first pregnancy and suffer from horrible PPD with the second or subsequent pregnancies. It's a fickle thing. As for you, Angie, and your ever-astute reviews, you're right on the money again. Oh, and thanks for the reminder about Padmé's family. I almost forgot! I wish there was a magic ax, wouldn't it make life much simpler?
Also, for some reason, part of the last chapter got cut out, so there was an abrupt transition between Padmé and Anakin going to see the children. I fixed that.
The children were utterly ecstatic to finally see their mother. Padmé cried as the three tiny beings tackled her all at once, but Anakin couldn't tell if her tears were motivated by guilt or love. They begged her not to leave again, but her only response came in the form of the salty streams of regret trickling down her face.
They all went out for dinner, and though Anakin was hesitant to bring Elay, Padmé was insistent that she could come. She wouldn't say so, but he felt her fear through the Force and realized how desperately she felt she needed the help. The dinner was awkward and punctuated by curious stares from those who had obviously been keeping up with the reports on the HoloNet. Luke and Leia were blissfully ignorant of any such scrutiny and filled the time with their incessant, enthusiastic chatter. It was an adequate diversion from the real problems Anakin and Padmé faced, and the practiced smiles they maintained in response to their children's stories and questions presented a satisfactory façade for all observers.
Later that evening, Padmé retired to their chambers rather early. Anakin tucked in the children, read their favorite bedtime story, and kissed them goodnight before joining his wife. Sitting at the vanity brushing her hair, she didn't seem surprised to see him, but she did not exactly exude enthusiasm at the prospect of his company.
He decided not to run from her but respected her feelings by maintaining an appropriate distance, leaning against the far wall watching her. Neither spoke for a long moment until he broke the silence. "I'm glad you've come home," he said to her.
She sighed and paused mid-brush, staring blankly down at the floor. The air crackled with tension as he waited for her response. "I don't know how I feel about this," she admitted at last, returning to her task of brushing out her long, brown curls.
"I understand," he replied, nodding his head slightly.
She directed a short, pointed glare in his direction before turning back to the mirror. "I'm not sure you do."
It was his turn to sigh as he crossed his arms in front of him. "Maybe I don't. But I know how I felt seeing you on the HoloNet parading around with Senator Antilles."
He didn't miss the way she rolled her eyes as she shook her head at his accusation. "That was nothing."
"It didn't feel like nothing, especially considering the way you ignored me for weeks, considering the rumors circulating the galaxy about how we were through and you were moving on." He tried and failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice but found he didn't care whether or not she heard it.
"The healthcare bill didn't pass, Anakin. I needed help convincing the other Senators... someone charming enough to sway them." He saw her eyes dart in his direction in the mirror as she realized the implications of her words.
He took a deep breath before jumping to conclusions and thoughtlessly responding with the strong emotions swirling in his chest. "So you decided to go out to dinner with a charming, single, young Senator alone to talk about a healthcare bill?" He couldn't hide his skepticism and only mildly regretted the way his words came out.
"That's not..." She lay her brush down and stared at it as if it might make sense of the situation for her. "It wasn't like that."
"Were you trying to get back at me?" he pushed, knowing immediately the sort of response the question would elicit.
"No!" she said sharply, rising to her feet abruptly. "I wasn't trying to do anything other than garner support for the-"
"And you didn't think what sort of effect it might have?"
"Of course I knew, Anakin!" She slapped her palm down on the vanity in frustration. Her outburst effectively silenced her husband, and she hung her head and took a deep breath. "I knew what it would look like, Anakin. I wasn't trying to get back at you." He didn't believe her but was afraid to say as much out loud, so he was surprised when she finally, quietly added, "Or maybe I was. I don't know." She shook her head again, and though her eyes were closed, he could see the sad tiredness written across her face in the mirror. "I was hurting... so much, Anakin. More than I ever thought I could. Maybe I did want to hurt you back. I just wanted you to see..."
"You don't have to explain anything," he said, waving his mechanical hand in dismissal. His reply was less about being fair or considerate and more about sparing himself the details. "You don't have to tell me anything that happened."
She turned to face him. The somber resignation in her eyes sent stabs of sorrow through his heart. "Nothing happened, Anakin. We went to dinner. That's all."
He breathed heavily as he pondered her words. Relief and guilt coursed through him all at once. He didn't want for them to be "even," but the weight of his failure and betrayal pressed down on him all the more so. Where he had buckled, his wife had stood firm in her commitment, even despite having plenty of reason to turn away from him. "I... I don't..." he stumbled over words.
"He had the wrong impression, that much is true," she acknowledged carefully. "But I was sure to correct him. From that point forward, he was very respectful for the rest of the evening." A scowl crossed her face with her next words. "It made no difference; he had no interest in supporting the bill."
He wasn't sure whether to feel sorry that his wife hadn't gained the support she'd hoped for or to feel glad that this was likely the end of their interactions, at least on a private level. Yes, he was a selfish man, especially when it came to what was his, and he was not ashamed to admit it. "I'm sorry, Padmé," he decided to say.
She shrugged, looking away from him. "It's fine. I'll find another way. I'll rewrite the whole bill myself if I have to."
He nodded, considering the subject closed. "I've missed you," he said quietly.
She glanced at him briefly before turning to clean up her vanity. "I am sure," she mumbled so softly, he had to strain to hear her.
"Padmé... I can't say I'm sorry enough."
She froze momentarily then, with a quick shake of her head, continued putting her things away. "No. You really can't."
"But I am going to try."
A frustrated huff escaped her lips. "It's not that easy."
"I never said it was going to be easy-"
"But it's what you expect, isn't it?" She closed the top drawer of the vanity rather aggressively and turned back to him. "Everything is so easy for you. The Hero With No Fear."
He shook his head. "Oh, I assure you, there is much that I fear," he disagreed.
"I don't think you feared enough," she cast another barb at him, heading towards their closet.
"Well, maybe I feared that I might never feel loved again," he returned too quickly. The force behind his words smacked him in the face when she stopped and stared at him with an intensely agonized expression. "I didn't... I didn't mean..." he stammered.
"Oh, but you did," she asserted, tears glistening in her brown eyes. She clenched her fists at her side but otherwise stood stock still. "Do you think you deserved what you took? Was it worth it, Anakin?"
His shoulders slumped, and he took a deep breath, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Padmé..." He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and erase the past, dissolve this hurt, and fix everything for them. He couldn't take the pain he saw in her eyes - pain he had so carelessly and selfishly inflicted. Everything was mired with uncertainty; his own feelings were muddled and confused, and he found no help in the Force. "If I could go back in time... if I could take it all back... you know I would. Nothing is worth losing you." She was struggling to keep up that strong front she had worked so hard to build for so long, but he could clearly see it crumbling before his very eyes. "Nothing," he reiterated firmly, looking deep into her eyes.
Nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing and his calm, controlled breaths could be heard in the room for an uncomfortably long time. At last, he said, "I will sleep in the main room, if that is what you wish. I will go wherever you want me to go. I will wait as long as it takes, and I will never give up," he promised adamantly. "Just tell me what you need from me, and it's yours."
She looked him up and down with despondent, worn eyes that were heavily weighed down with unshed tears. "No," she murmured. "You can stay in here." She swallowed. "With me."
His heart skipped a beat, but he was afraid to hope. "Are you sure?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," she whispered with a small nod.
They climbed into bed together that night for the first time in far too long. Anakin lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, consumed with the desire to just hold her but too choked by fear to even attempt to touch her. Padmé lay curled on her side, facing away from her husband, trembling with silent sobs that did not go unnoticed by Anakin. They hardly slept that night, their bodies too tense and overwhelmed by the exertion required to simply stay still and unmoving, as if that might grant the gift of invisibility. No such relief came for either of them.
"Mistress?"
Padmé turned in Elay's direction from her position on the balcony. "Yes?"
"There's a visitor in the lobby requesting permission to come up."
Padmé arched an eyebrow in response. "Oh? Who is it?"
"It's your mother, ma'am, and your sister."
Dread filled Padmé's heart at Elay's words. "Oh," she repeated, less enthusiastically this time. "Well. Yes. By all means... send them up."
She waited anxiously in the main room for her guests, wishing Anakin could be present for this most unexpected visit. Surely she might, at least temporarily, escape the interrogation to which she was certain to be subjected if he were there. Admittedly, she had been ignoring and avoiding her family's frequent attempts at communication since the news hit the HoloNet that she and Anakin might be on shaky ground. Wringing her hands, she scrambled in her mind to formulate some sort of response to the questions she knew would inevitably be asked.
"Padmé!" both women called out upon entering the apartment.
"Mother! Sola! How... how good to see you!" she greeted them, though she knew the smile she offered was weak.
Sola immediately took Padmé into her arms and hugged her tightly. "Oh, my sister. It is so good to see you," she breathed.
"Yes, so good to find you at home," Jobal said pointedly.
"Mother," Sola chided, pulling back from the embrace to cast a pointed glance at the matriarch of the Naberrie family.
"I offer no apology," Jobal insisted, though she came forward and wrapped Padmé in a tight hug that rivaled Sola's. "My dear, you have been a very naughty daughter."
"I know, Mother, I know," Padmé conceded penitently.
Jobal gently pushed her daughter away and examined her carefully at arm's length. "What has been going on? It's been impossible to reach you."
Padmé flushed, stepping back and turning and taking a few steps away from her mother. She clasped her hands in front of her. "Mother... It's a long story."
"Well, it's a good thing I've come a long way to hear it in person," her mother rebutted, her voice teasing and gentle but full of concern.
"She's right, Padmé," Sola chimed in. "The last time you behaved like this, we found out you were married to your not-boyfriend and having his twins."
The tightness in Padmé's chest worsened. "Yes..." She tried to speak, but her voice trailed away.
"And what's this about the Senator from Corellia?" her mother pressed.
Padmé did not immediately answer. Sola stepped forward and placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Padmé," she asked softly, "what's going on?"
Padmé turned to face her mother and sister, but as soon as she saw the love and worry on their faces, she burst into tears. The two strong women pulled her into another embrace, offering their unconditional love and support, though they knew not how troublesome the situation had become.
So if this sounds off, it's cuz it's rather forced. I kicked my muse and tried to put her to work, but she was pretty unwilling.
