Padmé sits, frozen with dread, heedless of the passage of time, upon the plush leather ottoman, until a sudden pattering of footsteps jolts her to attention. They have come back, at last. She turns up from her dry, sallow, worrying hands to see the two of them standing in the doorway of the study room, looking rumpled and wild-eyed, but otherwise intact. She wonders where they have been all these hours. She wonders what has passed between them. She wonders what has come of Yoda's warnings.
Anchor him in the Light, will you? Or be drawn by him into the Darkness?
She has tried to ready herself for the worst, but she has no real idea of what the worst might be. The ways of the Force are almost entirely mysterious to her; And so her imagination dispatches to fill the gaps in her knowledge with the most alarming notions. For a pent minute, she just watches them, and they let her. Two jewel-like pairs of eyes stare back at her, awaiting her judgement with patience and deference. The terrible, crackling, burning power which assaulted Master Windu seems to have been tamed. It is now shared between them, traveling endlessly back and forth betwixt their bodies in a kind of stable metabolic loop. She wonders if this is what is meant by "balance."
She wishes someone would just explain to her what in the nine hells is happening. Neither the injured Master Windu, nor the shuffling, grumbling Master Yoda have been much of a help on that account. In her younger, more starry-eyed days, the esoteric nature of the Jedi used to appeal to her- But now, with real things at stake, she is beginning to find their tendency to answer every question with a question more maddening than charming.
"What happened?" she blurts, unable to quite conceal her suspense.
"If it's all the same to you, M'lady," says Obi Wan cooly, "I think I'll let Anakin explain himself." He guides his apprentice across the room with a gentle hand on his shoulder, presenting the wayward youth to the seated senator like a precious, borrowed object. Indeed, Padmé considers, he has done exactly as promised: He has brought her husband safely back to her. Why then, does the sight of them standing there together fill her with such unease?
"Yes... I think that would be best," she says vaguely. For a moment, she seems to squint with her whole face, her eyes and lips narrowing like those of a child who has unwittingly tasted something sour- But this expression is swiftly replaced by one of courtly composure. "Master Yoda wanted to speak with you," she continues, nodding in the direction of the corridor. And then she lifts her queenly chin, giving Obi Wan a long, appraising look, as if she has never seen him, or anything else like him, before. Her dark eyes seem to lave over him, sparkling with that very combination of girlish vim and womanly sophistication which have made her such a captivating figure in the Senate. "I believe that he and Master Windu are in the infirmary."
"Then- I shan't keep them waiting any longer," says Obi Wan. He is visibly blushing as he bows and turns to take his leave, suddenly eager to escape her scrutiny. As the ends of his cloak disappear through the doorway with a whisper of fabric over glassy tile, Anakin, who has yet to say a single word, stares adoringly after him.
When Obi Wan is gone, Anakin turns to face his wife with the same vapory, smiling expression. He feels so warm, and buoyant, and pleasantly confused about everything, that he's completely forgotten he's supposed to be "explaining" himself. Old Anakin probably would have had a whole rant prepared- New Anakin is content to simply stand there, silently absorbing her loveliness forever.
"Well?" she breathes, her large eyes blinking wetly.
"Oh-" His lips part in distress as the reality of the situation catches up with him. The mere possibility that she might be upset with him shortens his breath. "Padmé- Oh, Padmé- I'm sor- I don't-" He takes a step towards her, and she flinches, with the jerky elegance of a startled doe. "Darling, please don't look at me like that!" he cries. When she doesn't respond, he drops to his knees, suddenly delirious with anguish. "Is it true-?" he sobs. "Is it true that you intend to leave me?" He falls like a limp rag at her feet, all the pride, and fury, and entitlement having been wrung out of him. Only hours ago, he might have tried to cajole or threaten her. But the Anakin who would have burned down the entire galaxy to stop her from leaving him, has been replaced by an Anakin who can only kneel and beg. "Did I frighten you?" he whispers hoarsely, staring at her clenching hands which seem to hold his very soul in their nervous grip. "Are you frightened of me now?"
"No, Ani," she says, too quickly, because even though she actually is a little bit frightened, she can't bear the heartsick look on his face.
"You know I- I'd never- ever hurt you," he stammers. "You know that, right?" He bows his upper body so that the hem of his dark leather tabard dusts the silver-black tile.
"Of course I know that. Come here, my love," she swallows, extending a hand so that it hovers airily above his head, like a pale bird flying parallel to the ground.
At this, he lunges forward and collapses into her, laying the flat of his cheek upon her lap and wrapping his arms about her lower legs in a pose of the most desperate neediness and abject submission. "I'm so sorry-" he whimpers. He is still nothing more than a lost little boy. "I was wrong. I didn't know what was best. I didn't know anything." He squeezes her, reverently pressing his lips against her thigh through the gauzy fabric of her yellow shift. "So I- I lashed out in anger. But it won't happen again. I promise!" He lifts his head a few centimeters to nuzzle her belly. Her raised hands tremble momentarily in space, before settling into the tangled mass of his hair.
"I would very much like to believe that," she sighs, slowly stroking him behind the ear. "And it's good that you've resolved to make a change. But I worry-" She pauses briefly, lowering her head in sadness. "I worry that this may go a lot deeper than you realize. I've known for a long time that you were... confused about certain things. And I am ashamed to say that I stood by and did nothing, instead of finding you the help I knew you needed."
"Don't say that!" he gasps. "It's not your fault at all. You were the one who used to say I ought to listen to Obi Wan more." He smiles broadly up at her, his eyes shining with emotion, his hands on her knees, and his knees at her feet. "And you were right- I understand now. He has explained everything to me."
"Oh?" She raises an eyebrow. "Has he?" This must have been one efficient explanation.
"Yes. I realize now that I have taken your love too much for granted," he pronounces earnestly, clasping her hand. "I must work harder to be worthy of you. And the baby."
"But Ani, it's not-" she struggles. "It's not just about me and the baby. The galaxy doesn't revolve around us. That's what you don't seem to-"
"I know-!" he interjects. "That is, I-" His gaze drops, sinking to the dark, reflective floor. "I should care about what's best too, I know. For everyone, I mean. That's what a Jedi-" He takes a hard, shuddering breath. His grip on her hand tightens almost to the point of violence. "I'm sorry! This is just- Very difficult for me!"
"Oh, Darling..." she sighs.
"I am trying- And Obi Wan has promised to- To help me," he says evenly, making a valiant effort to control his tone of voice. "Please Padmé, give me a chance."
"I will always love you, Anakin," she affirms, looking down at their interlaced hands. Her smile is one of quiet wisdom. The sort of wisdom which is gained through strife. "But that doesn't mean I am prepared to follow you anywhere and everywhere."
"Please-" he rasps in panic.
"Shh..." She presses her free hand to his lips. "Listen to me. Let me explain myself. My entire life has been devoted to fighting for justice. That is my path, and I will not deviate from it," she says. And saying it makes it real. She traces her fingers along his cheek, gently charting its curve like the arc of starlight hugging a gravitational lens. "As long as you remain with me, on the path of justice, we will always be together. That may mean being a Jedi- Or it may mean something else entirely for you. And that's okay." She lifts his chin, so that he is looking directly into her eyes. "I can see that you are making an effort- And that's all I needed to see." She kisses his forehead with a sublime, purifying softness. "It's okay for you to make mistakes. It's okay for you to trip up sometimes. As long as you are following the path, I will be right here beside you." Her lips wink bemusedly. "And so will Obi Wan."
His death-grip on her hand relaxes, as he tilts his head back, eyes closed in rapture. He is not alone- He is surrounded by love. He opens his eyes, letting them be burned by the emergency florescents in the ceiling, so that when he finally looks back at Padmé, it is through a screen of pink and violet spots. He wonders where the Chancellor is now. He wonders what is happening on the planet's surface, so far above their heads. It strikes him that just as his own life is coming together, the rest of the galaxy might be going to hells. You must bring peace to the world inside, before you can do the same for the world outside. And he can. He will. He is.
"I know that you and Obi Wan share something very special," Padmé continues. "Something which I may not be able to understand."
"But-" Anakin blurts, "It doesn't mean I love you any less!"
"I know that," she says, simply. Her lack of jealousy still astonishes him. He can scarcely comprehend such generosity of spirit, such natural confidence and self-esteem. For all his cataclysmic power, it is she who appears godlike to him.
"You really are an angel," he whispers.
"No, Anakin," she shakes her head, smiling wistfully. "I'm just a decent, well-adjusted human, who knows what she wants."
"Then you-" He looks bashful. "You wouldn't mind, if he were to be- With us?"
"It's something we can all discuss, together." In truth, she has been considering it. And the more she considers it, the better it sounds in her head. "With the baby coming, we already knew our marriage was going to change. And now-" she sighs. "Now the whole galaxy is changing around us. We can still be a family- We will be. But we may have to... adapt." At length, she looks up soberly. "And Obi Wan- Well, he doesn't really have a family..."
"So maybe... He could be part of ours?" asks Anakin, his face alight with awe and joy.
"It still depends, of course, what he has to say on the matter."
"Of course," he says breathlessly, kissing her face. "Yes. Thank you. Of course, we will- Ask him-"
She laughs softly against his lips, much of her prior anxiety easing away. The sea goddess of Naboo looks out for one of her favorite daughters. Like the handsome green stones which line her shores, all can be polished smooth, with enough time and effort. Padmé releases her fears into the deep, dark, soothing water. She may not understand the mysteries of the Cosmos, but she does understand politics- She is quite adept at negotiation, which is to say, she is quite adept at turning situations to her advantage. She has looked into Obi Wan's eyes, she has noticed the curl of his fingers, and she has read the longing there. She feels confident he can be... reasoned with.
She covers Anakin's lips with her own, reminding him of her aggressiveness, and he groans eagerly, reminding her of how much he has always enjoyed it. Their marriage isn't broken- It just needs a software update. Perhaps in the form of Master Kenobi. Perhaps, she thinks mischievously, some new hardware can be requisitioned as well.
"Provided we are able to secure your dear master's cooperation," she breathes hotly, into his quivering mouth, "there are a couple of things I'd like to try."