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Chapter Four: What is going on?

Han had been introduced to the various Senators, and then promptly taken away after the pleasantries, Elle and Motee escorting him back to the holovid room.

The handmaidens stayed with Han, sitting either side of the boy as he watched cartoon holovids. Motee was not used to little children, but Elle – who had a younger brother and two younger sisters– could easily interact with Han.

This morning little Solo had already been half-dressed when he came down for breakfast, already in pants and boots, but with his pyjama shirt on. Motee had asked him why he only half-dressed and Han had tilted his head to look at her in surprise.

"'cause I don't want to get my shirt dirty before the Senators come."

Elle chuckled. Yesterday the boy had been practically jumping in mud puddles as they'd shopped. Now he was worried about a little blue milk on his shirt?

Motee had been completely miffed about that, but like some children, (and no doubt partially due to his previous life,) Han liked to be neat and tidy when he was being introduced to new people.

(Padmé was also surprised to see Han dressed up without argument, in the very formal clothing that matched with hers. His response, to Motee's further confusement?

"I like the cloak.")

Senator Amidala nervously entered the room at around noontime, pushing down the velvet hood and gazing fondly at Han. Padmé's handmaidens got to their feet and bowed to her quickly, before heading for the exit, as Artoo came rolling into the room.

"Hi sweetie, what are you watching?" Padmé sat beside Han and looked at the holovid.

Han looked up at his foster mother and grinned, showing her the holovid cartridge, "Kid Tyral and the Bothan spies. Have you seen it before?"

In fact, Padmé had watched all the Kid Tyral movies when she had been about Han's age, but the boy looked so eager to tell her all about it, so she shook her head. The boy paused the movie and pointed to the overly muscular hero, dressed up in a tight black jumpsuit.

"That's Kid Tyral, he's the best star-pilot in the whole universe. Well, not really 'cause everyone says Anakin is," he pointed at the Ithrorian next to the hero. "That's his best buddy, Menzo, who's also his co-pilot. They go off on missions for the Queen of the Galaxies, she's Tyral's girlfriend." Han looked cheekily at his foster mother.

"They remind me of some people I know."

Padmé chuckled and ruffled Han's hair, "Your father and I are nothing like those two, for one thing I was never really your father's girlfriend. We got married only a few days after we met again, after ten years apart," she put an arm around her adopted son's shoulders.

Leaning her other hand on her stomach, Senator Amidala told Han the story of how her and Anakin first met, then how they'd met as adults and fallen in love.

Han listened with amazement as Padmé retold the battle on Genosis, and then how she had waited anxiously through the Clone Wars, while she continued to work for the Senate, for Anakin to return. The boy was surprised.

"Wow, that's better than any Kid Tyral movie!" Han exclaimed.

Padmé cocked her head to the side. "You really think so?"

Han moved out from under his foster mother's arm and sat side-saddle to look at her firmly, Amidala biting her tongue as not to smile at the boy's way of asserting his feelings.

"Yeah, I do. I mean, all the battles and fighting and yet you still found each other," Han smiled.

"I never told anyone, Mom, mostly because the other guys I used to live with says that girls have kutu-cooties. But, I'd really like to get married and have kids someday!" The boy blurted out, to Padmé's mirthful delight.

"Well that's wonderful sweetie, and I can assure you that girls don't have kutu-cooties, only wookiees and other beings with long fur can catch them. They're a louse that don't like humanoid blood," Padmé assured him, as Han fiddled with the clasp on his cloak.

"I think I knew that," Han placed his hands on his lap. "But I like girls anyway, and I hope someday when I'm as old as you and Anakin, I find a really great girl."

Padmé placed a hand on his shoulder with a laugh, "Anakin and I aren't that old yet. What sort of 'great girl' would you like to marry?" She pulled Han back into her one armed embrace and her foster son lent his head on her stomach.

"I'd like her to be pretty, with brown eyes like yours," he grinned up at his Mom, "but with something really amazing about her most of all. I don't know what yet, but real special," Han suddenly jumped back. "Oww!" He rubbed his temple with his fingers as Padmé giggled.

"Your baby kicked me!"

Padmé laughed, "That's your little brother or sister in there. They probably didn't like being leaned on," she ruffled his hair again, "you can go get changed if you like. I'm going to get changed as well, because your father should be home soon, and he hates these big dresses I have to wear in public."

-:-:-:-:-

The tall Jedi walked into the apartment with a thoughtful look in his eyes, a box of mechanical parts on his left shoulder. Anakin carefully balanced them, as he was suddenly bombarded by a pair of small arms around his waist.

"Hi Anakin!"

The snub nosed face grinning up at him, couldn't help but make the serious Anakin smile in return.

"Heya short-stuff. You wanna let go of me for a sec, so I can put down this box?" He asked, Han nodded and let go as Anakin placed the box down on the floor. "Where's your Mom?"

Han knelt down beside the box, inspecting the contents curiously, as R2-D2 rolled over to see what they were doing with mechanical parts, "In the kitchen with Motee and Elle. What's all this stuff?"

Anakin squatted down beside him, picking up a motivator, "Some things to fix my starfighter," he said, trying to keep the grin off his face when Han leapt to his feet and looked beyond excitement.

"You mean your for real Jedi starfighter?!"

"None other. It's just outside on the landing platform," Jedi Skywalker thumbed casually outside the meeting room, toward the platform where the ship was docked. Han let out a whoop and went rushing outside to look at the starfighter as fast as his legs could go.

Anakin shouldered the box again and followed his foster son, smiling down at Artoo, who was trailing them and blatted at him for letting the boy just go running over to the ship. "Ah, lighten up Artoo, it's not like the boy's going to break anything that we can't fix."

The astromech droid beeped and warbled at him, his little dome swirling from side to side, Skywalker laughed and called out to Han, who was already inspecting the underside of the fighter.

"Han, you're not going to go flying off recklessly to battle in my ship, are you?"

Solo looked up and grinned eagerly, his eyes twinkling mischievously as Anakin approached, "Can I?"

"No." Anakin responded just as quickly, giving Artoo a wink as the droid let out the equivalent of a sigh as he rolled over to check the thrusters. Han folded his arms with a pout as his foster father ruffled his hair with his gloved mechanical hand.

"But, you can help me with the repairs if you want to."

Han beamed placing his hands on the wing eagerly, "If I want to? Is a Nerf woolly?"

"I believe they are," Padmé's voice floated over to them.

Anakin looked over and saw his wife approaching with a smile, dressed in a simple beaded navy blue dress and shawl, making certain to drape the shawl around her waist to hide her bump, Padmé looked radiant.

Senator Amidala embraced her husband tightly and Anakin lent down to kiss her sweetly.

Han grinned at the sight, and walked over to Artoo to give his adopted parents a moment alone.

Padmé placed a hand against her husband's face with a smile as she pulled back from their kiss, "Thank-you," she whispered. "How did you know he liked ships so much?"

Anakin brushed back a loose wave of his hair, "Han told Palpatine last night that he wanted to be a fighter pilot. I had work to do on her anyway before my leave is over, so I brought her here so Han could get some hands on experience with a real starfighter." He put an arm around Padmé, as they watched Han ask Artoo something about turbo-charging the inbound thrusters.

Padmé smiled up at Anakin, "I was telling Obi-Wan today that he reminds me so much of you sometimes," she said offhandedly.

Anakin looked down at her worriedly. "Obi-Wan was here? When?" Anakin's voice was low and bordering on an angry tone Padmé had never heard him use, when talking about his friend and mentor.

"This morning, long after you'd left," Padmé said puzzled emotions running over her face, not knowing how he'd react was what scared her the most.

Jedi Skywalker took in a breath, "What did he want?"

Padmé wrung her shawl in her hands, "He's very worried about you, Anakin," she placed a hand on her husband's arm. "He's your best friend, your mentor, and like a father to you. Why would he watch you suffer and not say anything?" She invoked.

Anakin lowered his eyes. "I know you're right, but...what if he knows about us, Padmé?" He whispered, taking her hands in his.

Padmé looked up at at her husband resolutely. "If Obi-Wan does know anything, he will not tell the council. I trust him, Anakin, but," she lowered her voice further.

"I think maybe it's up to you to tell the council yourself and I think Obi-Wan realises that as well."

Anakin raised a hand, "I know, I know," he placed his hand on Padmé's stomach. "It's just that I think sometimes that the Jedi Council don't trust me to do the right thing. But, I don't want to talk about them now," he smiled soothingly.

"I think I can learn a way to save you and our baby, Padmé."

Padmé shook her brown curly-haired head, "Save us? From what…the thing you've been having nightmares about, you mean?" She sighed. "Is that what's been bothering you? Ani..."

Anakin interrupted with a hiss of pain, "I can't lose you Padmé, we can't lose either of you," he motioned to Han and then to her rounding belly. "What would happen to me if I lost you and the baby? What kind of life would there be for Han? How can I ever—I can't imagine–"

Padmé placed her fingers on his lips, "Shh, Anakin, I'm not going anywhere, I refuse to. And you know what they say about politicians when they've made their mind up, and no quips about aggressive negations in the place of diplomacy either," she patted his chest.

"We will get through this, and when our son or daughter is born, we'll have all these crazy stories to tell them how Daddy worried endlessly–"

Anakin smiled and took her hand off his mouth and held them to his chest, "And how Mama remained as beautiful and calm as the sea in low tide," he kissed her hands.

Hearing a snort of laughter, the Skywalkers peered across the landing platform and saw their foster son leaning with his back against the right wing.

"Okay, I let you have your moment of mushy-stuff, let's go back to fixin' the ship, so I have a chance to fly her when I'm at least thirty," Han admonished with a smirk and folded his arms.

Padmé hid a laugh as Anakin waggled a finger at their foster son, "Ahh, but who says I'm ever letting you fly her? They don't build booster seats for starfighters," he kissed Padmé's forehead for good measure, as he walked back around the ship.

Han rolled his eyes. "I said when I was thirty, Anakin."

Anakin stared back at the nine-year-old teasingly, "I heard you," Anakin dodged a rag Han threw at him as the boy rushed over to Padmé. The Jedi Knight merely picked up the rag in response and started cleaning off a grime mark on the left wing.

"Mom! Anakin said I was never going to grow!" The boy accused.

Padmé laughed. But Anakin didn't. He instead was reaching up to clutch at his head.

"And Captain Solo," the deep voice resounded, as the black-clothed monster glared down at the brown-haired man.

"How dare you fraternise with someone far too good for the likes of you?"

"I dare an awful lot, and if that was a joke," the young man lent forward, "you're losing your touch, old man..."

Anakin zapped back to reality as the deeper voice was replaced by the whining, pre-pubescent tone of his foster son. The Jedi Knight staring at Han in shock, as the dream he'd all but forgotten from last night returned.

"...I don't care if it was a joke, it wasn't funny." hazel eyes glared at him from a distance, but became concerned when he saw Skywalker looking at him strangely. "Anakin?" Han rushed over as the man kept staring at him.

"I'm sorry that I didn't think it was funny," Han apologised.

Anakin patted his foster son's head, "No, it's all right, Han. It was a joke in bad taste. Of course you're going to grow. You'll probably be as tall as I am someday," he mumbled.

Padmé glanced at Anakin in concern as she walked over to join them.

"All right you two, enough with the teasing. Before you even get one smudge of grime on those hands, you're having something to eat, and some time out of the sun. Ani, you look like you got caught in a solar flare, is everything all right?" Padmé demanded, taking his arm concernedly to lead him inside.

The Jedi Knight nodded, "Yeah, I guess I have been standing in the sun too long. I also haven't eaten since breakfast so that must be it," he looked back over his shoulder at Han, who was following them cautiously.

Anakin leaned down to his petite wife's level to whisper in her ear, "Padmé, send Han to get me some water."

Padmé raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she helped her husband over to the couch, peering back over at Han as he followed them inside, "Han, get Anakin some water, please."

The boy scurried off and Anakin breathed out hard, "I also saw something else last night in my dreams...and something just now. I think it was someone all grown up." Anakin inclined his head in the direction Han was leaving.

Padmé looked surprised, "Really? Did he look healthy? Was he all right? What was he doing?"

Anakin shrugged, "I couldn't see him too clearly, I only guessed that it might have been Han because I heard 'Captain Solo'… it could have been someone else...maybe even a vision of the past with one of Han's relatives...or a hundred years into the future. I heard someone make a joke and the man scoffed at it and made a snide remark.

"It certainly sounded like our Han." Anakin kissed Padmé's nose, not wanting to tell her anything about the dark monster.

Padmé chuckled, "Well that almost makes it a certainty, then. He can be the sweetest little thing though, Han was just telling me earlier today he wanted to get married one day."

Anakin sighed, "Han actually said he wanted to get married, huh?"

Padmé nodded, "Yes and the funniest thing happened, he put his head on my stomach and the baby kicked him pretty good." She and Anakin laughed, and Padmé rubbed her rounded belly with a smile as she whispered, "Captain Solo, huh..."

Anakin leant his forehead against his wife's, "I know. Think you're okay with the kid being in the military?" He questioned.

Padmé scoffed, "That's what you think. I'm dreaming of something much safer and lucrative, perhaps a privateer for a career, a set up with his own fleet of ships—"

"I don't know. General Skywalker-Solo has a nice ring to it...come to think of it, so does Admiral Skywalker-Solo..."

"Oh, you just would love that boost to your ego in the future, wouldn't you?" Padmé teased her husband, ruffling his longish bangs with a grin. "A highly decorated military dynasty."

Anakin smirked and folded his arms, puffing out his chest, "Well, it's certainly a step up from charting space-cruises. I just can't see Han running a fleet of luxury cruises for the elite snobs of the galaxy, no matter how stable and well paid it might be." He teased back and Padmé lent her head on Anakin's shoulder.

"You're probably right, but that won't stop me from trying to sway him that way—"

"Sway who what way?" Han's voice broke in, as the boy reappeared in front of his foster parents and handed Anakin the water.

"Someone way in the future." Anakin covered quickly. "Thanks, kiddo."

Han shrugged, "Big deal, I can catch water in a decanter," he smiled at his foster father, "I'm really sorry about whining to Mom about you," The boy apologised again.

Padmé put a loving hand on Han's shoulder, as her husband gulped down the water.

"Sweetie, it's not your fault. Anakin just got a little bit of sunstroke," she tried to stand up and both Anakin and Han helped her to her feet. "Oomph, it's getting to be more of a struggle every day. I'm going to tell Motee and Elle to start packing lunch for a picnic. The Coruscant Botanical Gardens, and no arguments."

Padmé pointed a finger at Anakin, who sighed in mock reluctance as he jokingly collapsed on the couch and smirked up at Han.

"Oh no, aggressive negotiations, how can I ever refuse?"

-:-:-:-:-

The day and the evening spent relaxing in the stunning gardens, blissfully passed too quickly by, and Anakin had loved every moment of it.

However, Anakin grew curious when Han asked if he could tell him something as the Jedi Knight escorted him to bed.

"Well yes Han, I'm your father, you can tell me anything," Anakin assured him kindly, as the boy sat up and pulled the covers over his chest, resting his arms against the sheets and staring down as Anakin reclined on the end of the bed.

The boy pushed back his hair nervously, "I...I know you like Chancellor Palpatine a lot, Mom said he'd been a good friend to you since you were small," Han began, Anakin nodded and his foster son sighed.

"Everyone says he's a good guy, Anakin, but...I felt strange the other day when I met him."

Anakin narrowed his eyes slightly, "Strange?" He repeated lightly, the boy nodded.

"Yeah, I didn't want him to look at me, I felt cold, alone…I didn't like feeling that way. It made me want to run back to Mom. He frightened me," Han stammered. Anakin smiled kindly again and patted the boy's leg.

"You were probably just nervous, it's not every day you meet the Chancellor of the Republic..."

Han shook his head, frightened beyond anything he'd ever experienced before, and Han had seen a lot in his short life. "I wasn't nervous, he made me feel like Captain Shrike did! He's a bad man," he started to cry as Anakin's face instantly took on a defensive expression.

"Don't hit me, please!" Han begged, putting his hands to his face.

Anakin breathed out, trying to calm down, "Han, I would never hit you. I would never harm you. But the Chancellor is a good man, you were only nervous," he tried to soothe.

Padmé suddenly came rushing into the room, dressed in a simple white night-gown with sheer, embroidered gold sleeves. "What happened? What did you say to him, Anakin?" She questioned, rushing over to sit beside Han, and pulled her foster son into a hug, rocking him soothingly as Anakin shook his head.

"I didn't say anything vicious, Padmé. It's just that Han met Palpatine for only a few moments yesterday, and now he's accusing him of being a bad person. I said he was just feeling nervous."

Padmé stared at her husband meaningfully, "Perhaps he wasn't, Anakin," she replied, brushing Han's hair back off his face,

Anakin raised his fair eyebrows in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Palpatine's stayed in office far too long, he's manipulated just about every single person in his cabinet to his whim. I don't think you need to be strong in the Force to sense that something is wrong here," Padmé kissed the top of her foster son's head and tightened her grip around Han protectively.

"Han senses it, and you know how perceptive children are."

Anakin pointed a finger at his wife as Han looked tearfully between the both of them, "You, are starting to sound like a separatist again. Palpatine befriended me, he's done nothing but try to bring peace to the galaxy. Han was only nervous at meeting him and that is the end of it–!"

"Don't you talk down to me, Anakin Skywalker," Padmé snapped suddenly, and Han slipped out of her protective grasp as the expectant mother pointed a finger up at her husband.

"I may be your wife and pregnant, but I'm damned if I'll be your barefoot, homely little bride with no opinions of her own, just because I am. I don't trust Palpatine either," Senator Amidala hissed, holding her stomach as she looked away.

Han jumped out of bed, interrupting them, "I only said what I said, because Obi-Wan said I should—" he clamped his hands over his mouth, as Anakin's shocked blue eyes looked down at his foster son.

"You spoke to Obi-Wan about this?"

Padmé was just as shocked, "When did you do that?" She questioned Han. "I didn't see you two talking! What did you say to him?"

Han shook his head, "Only what I felt when I was around Palpatine. I didn't know who else to talk too," he looked up at Anakin tearfully. "You would have gotten upset like you just did, and Elle told me about the Jedi, how you protect people. An' Obi-Wan was so nice and said that if Palpatine ever did try to do anything wrong that the Jedi would stop him," he said in a jumble, wringing his small hands.

Anakin sighed and squatted down to his foster son's level, "Han, nobody blames you and Obi-Wan is right. If people are evil the Jedi are always the first to know and we stop them," he placed a hand on Han's shoulder.

"Your mom and I were arguing because we have a difference of opinion, your mom thinks Palpatine should step down, and I think he should wait until the war comes to an end." He explained.

Padmé eyed her husband quietly, "Anakin, I'm not looking for Palpatine to step down, I'm looking for him to put an end to this conflict with diplomacy, and not with blasters any more. There's been so much loss of life," she looked away.

"And if I can be a little selfish for a change, I want the war to end so you can stay with me, Han and the baby when it comes. I don't know what the council will say, but even if they expel you from the order, we can go live on Naboo to raise the children," Padmé ruffled Han's hair gently.

"I'm sorry if we upset you, sweetie."

Anakin stood up as Padmé helped their foster son back into bed, Han pulled up the covers and smiled, "It's all right, goodnight," he said softly. Padmé and Anakin repeated the salutation, switching off the light as they exited.

Skywalker put a hand on his wife's shoulder as they moved down the hall, "Angel..."

"Perhaps," Padmé removed the hand, "it would be better if you didn't call me that for the rest of the night," she headed for the kitchens. "I'm going to make myself some warm blue-milk, would you like anything?"

Anakin folded his arms over his chest, "No, only my wife back in my arms!" He called out, Padmé laughter echoed back and Anakin smiled slightly.

Their love was far too strong for a small argument to destroy, but he had to remember that Han would soon be joined by a brother or sister, and that the biggest of the arguing should be kept out of their ear, and eye, shot.

Anakin chuckled to himself as he headed for the bedroom he shared with Padmé, As should the making up.

Thoughtfulness settled on Anakin again as he walked. What if Han hadn't been nervous? What if he had, with his small connection with the Force, sensed something Anakin couldn't sense with his own strong connection?

Skywalker brushed it off. Even though it continued to nag at him, Anakin tried to convince himself it wasn't at all possible.

-:-:-:-:-

Padmé was extremely uncomfortable in the huge dress, the clothing was getting more elaborate and she didn't think she cared for this beautifully made garment much –stunning fabric in its velocity– all of it to hide her pregnancy.

Her and Anakin's beautiful, wonderful child, was hidden behind mounds of peacock coloured clothing.

Perhaps the fault wasn't all in the dress –although the heavy clothing was becoming a burden– it was in the eyes of Padmé's husband. Not once had Anakin vouched for her and the Delegation of Two Thousand, he just stood behind that pompous old cretin, looking down at the floor.

She did not like the sway Palpatine seemed to have over Anakin.

Padmé wanted to cry, scream and throw herself at her Jedi consort all at the same time, but she held it in. Though it hurt, the silence hurt more than any words every could have.

Afterwards, as the young woman sat numbly in the back of the speeder, between C-3PO and Motee, not even the child within her womb shifted. Quiet and as still as its mother.

-:-:-:-:-

They say that children often feel something is deeply wrong long before adults do.

Han was sitting quietly in the lounge room on a couch in front of the window at sunset, when Padmé entered, dressed in her green-velvet gown, and sat beside him, putting an arm around her foster son's shoulders.

"Why so quiet?" Padmé whispered, watching as the fading light played on Han's straight brown hair and over his concerned face. Dressed in a blue shirt and black pants, Han was a subdued little figure as he tumbled a small replica of Anakin's starfighter in his fingers.

"No reason. I just thought Anakin would be back by now," Han grinned up at his foster mother, "he promised me yesterday that we could put another coat of paint on the wings of his starfighter," Han looked concerned as he gazed up at Padmé.

"Are you all right, Mom?"

Padmé shook her head, brushing back curls from her face, "Not really, no. I don't know how much you know about the Force, Han, but I think the baby might have a strong connection with Anakin, and I feel something is terribly wrong," she admitted.

"I'm so worried about your father."

Han let Padmé rest her head on his, crying softly she said nothing more and the boy lowered his eyes, Where are you, Anakin? He thought curiously.

What is going on?

Thank you for reading.