Chapter Forty-Two

"I don't want you to fight."

Those were the first words Padmé spoke to him after the room had been finally cleared of shocked attendees welcoming him back from the dead. It wasn't quite the response Anakin had been expecting from her following that influx of warm affection. He was especially confused by her response given the stirring speech she had given only ten minutes before. Not only did she seem resistant to the idea of him joining her mission, but she also appeared mildly irritated by his willingness to volunteer at all.

"If this is a question about whether or not I'm capable—,"

"—It has nothing to do with your capabilities," Padmé interjected briskly, "This is my mission, Anakin. My fight. I didn't ask for your help!"

"I understand that, but you don't have to ask, Padmé! I want to do it! Why does that seem to make you angry?"

"All those years when you were fighting in the Clone Wars in your first timeline and even after you came back and took your position at GFCA director, did you ever let me help you?" she countered.

He shook his head, finding her entire argument fallacious. "That's not the same thing."

Her dark eyes flashed in challenge. "It is the same thing! Not so great being on the other side, is it?"

"So, you're punishing me now?" he scoffed, "Is that why you're rejecting my offer? Is this your idea of payback? Are you trying to prove a point?"

"I'm not punishing you, Anakin," she retorted, as if the very accusation was ludicrous and beneath him, "But one of us needs to stay behind…for our children's sake! Luke and Leia have already lost you once. They couldn't endure it a second time."

"And they can endure losing you instead?" he asked dubiously, "What kind of argument is that?"

"I've spent their entire lives preparing them for that eventuality," she said, "All they've ever known is running, fighting, and death. They have spent every day of their short lives in mortal danger. I don't make promises to them that I can't keep."

He was disheartened by her admission that Padmé had been preparing their children for her death since their early childhood, but what saddened him more was how resigned she seemed at the prospect. There was no anger or bitterness, just cold acceptance of an escapable fact. Padmé was fully prepared to meet her own death without flinching. The realization chilled him.

Every time he imagined he was coming to terms with everything she had suffered because of him, she would invariably prove him wrong. This new hardened exterior that she wore like an impermeable suit of armor…that was all due to him. Anakin also didn't miss the subtle recrimination she directed at him either. Her acrimonious resentment was so palpable he could practically touch it. But mostly, it seemed uncharacteristic of the Padmé he remembered, and he mourned the loss of the young woman she had been.

This wasn't Anakin's first inkling that the woman who stood before him now was profoundly different from the wife he had left behind. There were similarities that remained, of course. She wasn't entirely unrecognizable to him. Her fierce loyalty was unchanged. Her capacity for love and intrinsic goodness were still readily displayed. He had been a firsthand witness to that as they had moved throughout her camp earlier when he'd watched so many greet her with warm, tender affection. She was adored by people that she clearly adored in return. But there was a banked rage that simmered within her now, a near constant anger that seemed to drive her every action.

Anakin recognized that anger easily. It was the same fury that had fueled him through two lifetimes. Only when he finally let it go, did he ever come to know what true peace felt like. Padmé was now in the place he had been. And much like him, she directed that anger at everyone. Presently, however, her anger was directed solely at him.

"Are you saying that I make promises that I can't keep?" he asked quietly, "Is that what this is about? You do blame me, don't you?"

Padmé expelled a weary groan, detecting the disappointed sadness in his tone. She assumed that his bruised pride had likely left him spoiling for a fight, but she wasn't in the mood for confrontation right then. "You've been back for less than an hour, Anakin. There is so much for us to catch up on. Can we not fight about this?"

He crossed his arms obstinately. "I don't see how leaving things unspoken between us is going to help anything. If you blame me, then you should just say so. We should talk about it."

"Fine!" she retorted, throwing up her hands in a burst of aggravated fury, "You want to do this now? Let's do this then!" She stabbed an accusing finger in the center of his chest. "You said you would come home to me! You promised me, and you promised our son!" The anger that darkened her countenance abruptly crumbled into an anguished grimace. "And then you left us here alone! I waited and waited for you to come back…but you never did!"

Anakin gently gathered her into his arms as she began to break down. "I know…I know…" he choked into her hair as she wept, "And I'm sorry, Padmé…I'm so, so sorry…"

"And now you're here…when I didn't think I would ever see you again," she wept, "and you're already talking about running into danger and risking yourself and I…I can't handle that, Anakin…!"

"For you! I want to fight for you, Padmé! With you!"

She abruptly pushed free from his hold then and stiffened her spine with a controlled expression, stubbornly scrubbing away the tears that stained her cheeks. "No. This can't happen again," she muttered, and in that moment, Anakin wasn't sure if she was speaking to him or herself, "I love you, Ani. So much. It's like a miracle having you back, and I'm…overjoyed that you're here. But I will not let myself need you. I can't do that. Never again."

The words were like a physical blow to the gut. He almost wanted to double over. Her brusque declaration was made even more visceral because he knew she meant it utterly. She had wrapped herself in an impenetrable cocoon of detached resolve, clearly a defense mechanism she had developed after so many years of emotional trauma. He wished more than anything that she didn't feel that way, that she wasn't regarding him with such inherent mistrust right then. Then again, he couldn't blame her for being wary. He had broken so many promises to her already. He had turned her life upside down. Was it so surprising that she couldn't put faith in him now?

"Alright," he breathed softly, "I suppose that's fair. I understand."

She blinked at him, disarmed by his startling acceptance. "You do?"

"I'm not going to tell you how to feel, Padmé," he said, but before she could begin to soften the sting of her previous statement to him, he added, "At the same time, you can't tell me whether to fight or not."

Almost instantly, Padmé's expression became haughty and inexorable once more. She snorted in exasperation. "You really are the most stubborn man alive, aren't you?" she muttered.

"So says the most stubborn woman," he retorted dryly.

"You're being so unreasonable!"

"I'm being unreasonable?" he scoffed, "Perhaps, you should look within before you go throwing that accusation around!"

"Fine! Do what you want! You can explain your decision to our children then! I'm sure that will go over quite well with them!"

"That's not fair," he whispered, "You make it sound as if I'm abandoning them."

"Aren't you? I have plenty of volunteers for this mission. I do not need you to come along! I had this situation under control before you came back, and I have it under control now!"

"Are any of your 'volunteers' half the pilot I am?" he challenged, "Or as skilled in their use of the Force?"

"Still as arrogant as ever, I see," Padmé scoffed, "Is this the part where you regale me with the many ways you are superior to all others?"

"Is it arrogance or is it truth? I spent my youth in service to the Jedi Order, I've fought in a war, and I've headed the most powerful law enforcement agency in the galaxy! I could be an asset to you, Padmé, and you know that!"

"I said no," she maintained implacably, "And I make the decisions in this camp, Anakin, not you! This discussion is over."

He watched her walk away feeling a strange mixture of fury, frustration, and overwhelming respect. Anakin could appreciate her rigid determination to stand by her principles, but he didn't like that she was laying down edicts to him. He never liked being told what to do, especially when the person giving the orders was being arbitrary. That was the thing that infuriated Anakin the most. Padmé's decision to cut him out wasn't based on reason at all.

She was embarking on what could arguably be categorized as a suicide mission. The margin for error was extremely thin. She had one shot at executing her plan successfully and, if she failed, the retribution from her enemy would be swift, harsh, and detrimental. She couldn't afford a single misstep. Given those incredibly high stakes, she would reasonably need every available fighter she could find to accomplish her goals. The more skilled, the better.

Which was what made her rejection of Anakin so illogical to him. She wasn't denying him because she thought he had nothing to contribute. She was denying him in some misguided attempt to protect him. He knew it, even if she refused to own her motives. And therein lay the source of his frustration. Because he wasn't the one who needed protection! She was! If Padmé was determined to go into battle with a glaring target painted on her back, then he wanted to be at her side when she did it.

Convincing her to allow him to do that was going to be a challenge, however. She had always been obstinate when she thought she was right, but she was especially so now. And while Anakin respected Padmé's courage and fortitude as well as her dedication to him and their children even if that meant sacrificing her own personal safety, he also couldn't stand by and watch as her inflexibility got her killed. He was going to be damned either way so he might as well do what he thought was best.

"She told you couldn't go, didn't she?"

Anakin glanced up to find his son leaning against the open threshold of the briefing room, his expression filled with commiseration. He favored Luke with a faint, ironic smile. "How did you know?" he asked wryly.

"She does the same thing to me," Luke sighed, "I never get to do anything!"

"Well…you are still a kid," Anakin reminded him inanely.

Luke's blue eyes flashed imperiously. "I'm not a kid! I wish people would stop saying that! I'm the best pilot in this whole camp!" he flared, "I should be with them when they fly out of here!"

That argument was so reminiscent of the one he'd just had with Padmé that Anakin almost laughed aloud at the irony. He marveled over how similar he and his son were despite the limited influence Anakin had on shaping Luke's personality. That trademark Skywalker hubris was on full display, but Anakin suspected that Luke's aim wasn't to tout his own incomparable abilities. He wasn't trying to be a braggart at all. Anakin could read his son's intentions very clearly because they were a mirror of his own.

"You want to protect your mother," he surmised softly.

"She won't let anyone help her. She never has. But I have to keep her safe. That's my job."

Anakin almost told him that wasn't his responsibility any longer but then he thought better of it. What right did he have to push Luke aside after he had been gone for so long? Due to his absence, Luke hadn't had much of a choice in assuming the role of protector for his family. He had taken up that mantle with pride and resilience, seeing it as his personal duty to care for his mother and his sister. He deserved far more than to have his efforts so easily dismissed now.

"Your mother told me that she's been preparing you and your sister for the possibility of losing her for your whole lives."

"Yeah," Luke confirmed glumly, "Those were not fun conversations."

"I can imagine…" Anakin murmured sadly.

"We've had so many discussions about what Leia and I should do in case she dies that I'm pretty sure I could recite her instructions word for word."

Though his stomach clenched at Luke's ironic reply, Anakin was careful to keep his features neutral when he asked, "And what did she tell you?"

"She said that Leia and I should stick with Ben and Ahsoka no matter what…that they would be our best chance for survival. She said we might have to split up, and that we shouldn't hesitate to do it if necessary. And she said that if Ben and Ahsoka were gone too, that I should take Leia and grandma and grandpa to Master Yoda on Dagobah."

"Why is Master Yoda on Dagobah?" Anakin wondered in confusion, "What's out there?"

Luke shrugged. "I dunno really. He's been there ever since you went missing," he explained, "Many of the Jedi who weren't killed during the purges withdrew from the Force after the Empire rose. They hid all over the galaxy. I guess Master Yoda went Dagobah to figure out what happened to you."

"But somehow you always knew."

"I didn't know what happened to you," Luke said, "but I knew you were alive. Not that anyone believed me…I mean, besides Leia."

"How did you know?"

"I can't really explain it, but I was always sure. It wasn't denial. I just knew inside."

"Our Force bond has always been very strong," Anakin considered, "You and I were incredibly close before I disappeared."

"I know that. I don't remember much from before you were gone, but I have two clear memories that really stick out for me," Luke told him, "The first one was when those men tried to take me and Mom on Naboo and she dropped me back in the lake and told me to swim. I thought I would never see her again.

"The second one was when you promised to bring her back to me," he finished in a thickened whisper, "and you did. I knew you were the reason that Mom came back alive, and I knew you were alive too. I could always feel you. I just didn't know how to find you, Dad. And I didn't know how to make anyone believe me. I'm sorry I failed you."

Anakin placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder, fighting desperately to maintain control of his tenuous emotions when he replied, "You didn't fail me, Luke. I failed you. How is it you don't hate me?"

"I've been waiting for you practically my whole life! Why would I hate you?"

"Because I promised you that I would come back too," Anakin reminded him gruffly, "and I didn't. I broke that promise. I broke a lot of promises to you, Luke. I'm sorry."

Luke offered him a bittersweet smile, filled with unreserved forgiveness when he pitched himself into his father's arms. He squeezed Anakin tightly. "You're here now. I want you to stay, Dad. I want you both to stay."

Padmé's earlier words echoed in Anakin's mind. Luke and Leia have already lost you once. They couldn't endure it a second time. He certainly didn't want to put them through more pain, but he also didn't have the option of allowing Padmé to go off on her own. Or perhaps he did have the option. He was simply unwilling to take it. Because it wasn't enough for Luke and Leia to have only him. They needed both of their parents and they had been without that luxury for long enough.

"You and your sister have had to grow up much too fast," Anakin sighed ruefully, "And that's my fault. I know that. I want to make that up to you. I'm going to."

Luke shrugged out of his arms with a despondent sigh. "You're going to go off on that mission anyway, aren't you? You're going to follow Mom."

"She needs my help," he replied, "and I'm going to support her whether she wants me to do that or not."

"You're taking a huge risk, Dad," Luke warned him direly, "Mom does not like having her orders disobeyed. Trust me on this. I know she looks tiny, but she's super scary when she's angry."

Anakin swallowed his answering laugh. "Yes, I'm very aware of that fact. But if it means that she comes home when this is all over, then I don't really care if she's angry with me." He placed an entreating hand on his son's shoulder. "I know this isn't what you want to hear or what you want me to do, but I hope you understand why I need to do this. Sometimes, doing the right thing means doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. Do you understand, Luke?"

"Yeah, Dad," Luke replied, his blue eyes suddenly gleaming with fierce, determined light, "I understand you perfectly."

"Are you certain that you want to do this now?"

Even across the spotty connection afforded through their secret commlink channel, Padmé could sense the quivering worry in Mon Mothma's tone. She refused to let herself be shaken by her friend's obvious concern, however. She couldn't allow anything to break her resolve or dissuade her from charging forward with her mission, especially fear of the unknown.

Mon had already risked so much personally on her behalf and in aid of their struggling Resistance. She knew firsthand how ruthless the Empire could be. Bail Organa had already paid for his secret support of their cause with his own blood. His execution, while framed as a consequence of his "treasonous acts" against the Empire, had been a clear attempt on Emperor Preet's part to silence his dissenters.

The danger Mon Mothma faced could not be minimized. Even now, just holding this brief, clandestine exchange, she was jeopardizing not only her own freedom and life, but that of her family's as well. While her daughter was largely innocent, Mothma's husband was a known Imperial sympathizer. He wouldn't hesitate to turn her over if it meant preserving his own skin. The least Padmé could do, after Mon had sacrificed so much, was stick to her intention to bring a swift end to Preet's oppressive regime or die trying.

"We don't have much of choice anymore, do we?" she considered grimly, "The Empire has already laid its sights on our rebel base on Hoth. If they use that weapon, then it's over, Mon."

"You're taking a great risk, Padmé."

"Should I wait for Emperor Preet to complete construction on more of these planet destroying weapons then?" she challenged, "It's out of my hands now. We must act!"

Padmé thought about the members in her camp. Currently, they were all outside in the courtyard preparing themselves for the coming mission and celebrating Anakin's miraculous return. It had been gratifying to watch her people welcome him into the fold without reserve. But Padmé had observed those happy reunions from the perimeter of the camp rather than joining in. As glad as she was to have Anakin home again, Padmé couldn't allow herself to be lulled into a false sense of security that he would do what was necessary to keep himself safe.

She might have remained there, lurking in the shadows and brooding over things she could not change, if Mon Motha's comm signal hadn't compelled her to seek a quiet place to talk. But even then, she had remained distracted, overwhelmed by the reality that Anakin was once again filling that gaping, empty space that he had left in her heart ten years ago. Suddenly, that place that had been so bleak with sorrow and despair was brimming with joy and hope again, not just for her but for her children, her family, and her friends as well. She was determined to preserve it this time.

Her single-minded perseverance to see this mission through to the bitter end reached far beyond the necessity of breaking the yoke of Imperial rule once and for all. She needed to give her children a normal life. She wanted to give them the gift of time, to make up for all the years they had lost with their father already. Risking death seemed like a small price to pay to make that desire a reality.

"You don't have to be so quick to rush in for an attack," Mon insisted once more, "You've only known about this weapon for a short while. Take more time to strategize."

"There is no time."

"You're forgetting that even if Preet produces more weapons, they will all be built with the same fatal flaw," Mon argued, "They're not indestructible, Padmé."

"Only if our man and his sabotage remain undiscovered. If he is revealed, then what?"

"What if we evacuate Hoth and reduce the casualties as much as we can? We may lose the planet, but we can still regroup afterwards."

"And who will want to stand with us when they learn that the Empire has a planet killing weapon and will not hesitate to use it against their enemies? Why are you trying to talk me out of this?"

"You know why," Mon sighed, "I'm scared for you, my friend."

"Don't be. We've all risked something in this war. This is what needs to be done now. The more power Preet and Tarkin amass for themselves, the stronger their grip on this galaxy will become. We need to make a definitive push now. You should prepare yourself to assume control. When it's all over, there's bound to be a power vacuum and you must be ready to fill it, Mon."

"I'm not sure that person should be me, Padmé. The people look to you. They trust you."

"There is no guarantee that I will live through this, Mon. And, if I do, I don't want any part of it. I'm done with politics and war. If I survive this, all I want is to retire some place quiet and remote where Anakin and I can raise our children in peace."

"Anakin?"

"I didn't give you the news, did I?" Padmé said with a self-deprecating laugh, "Anakin is alive, Mon. He came home."

"What? When?"

"Early this morning. He just walked off Ahsoka's ship like he hadn't been gone for the last ten years!"

Mon received that stunning news with a sharp gasp. "Are you alright?"

"I'm still absorbing the shock. But I'm happy…happier than I've been in a long, long time, especially for Luke and Leia."

"And for yourself?" Mon prompted softly, "I remember how you grieved for him, Padmé."

She remembered vividly as well, how there had been a point in her life when she hadn't even wanted to go on without him, when there had been little that mattered to her without him, even her own children. Padmé didn't like to think about those dark months when she had prayed ceaselessly for own death because that had seemed like her only option for escaping the pain. Gradually she had come to terms and made peace, not with Anakin's loss so much as the idea that perhaps she had never been meant to hold onto him at all.

Being in love Anakin Skywalker was like trying to harness the sun, exciting, intriguing, and thrilling, but ultimately impossible. It was bright, filled with pulsing heat, overwhelmingly powerful…and yet undeniably consuming. She couldn't afford to let herself go down that road again. She could let herself love him, but she had given up on the idea of expecting him to remain hers alone.

"My primary concern is making sure my children have as much time with their father as possible," she told Mon, "Everything else is secondary."

"That's still very incredible news," Mon exclaimed softly, "These Jedi never fail to surprise me. I'm beginning to think that your husband is quite indestructible, Padmé. The timing of his return couldn't be more fortuitous, wouldn't you agree?"

"How do you mean?"

Mon blinked at her incredulously, as if she thought that answer should be plainly obvious. "Well, he can help you fight of course, and perhaps rally more Jedi to your cause. We need all the help we can muster."

"No. That is not going to happen," Padmé determined in a tone as unyielding as fortified durasteel, "I want Anakin as far away from this conflict as possible. I am doing this without him and without the Jedi. Luke and Leia just got their father back. I'll die a thousand deaths before I let them lose him again."