IV
I see bright colors. I see flourishing gardens. I see Naboo. I see Anakin, and I see our baby. Bright faced and giggling, our baby reflects the happiness of Naboo and our future with every smile and coo. The scene is so perfect. My life is finally perfect. Our marriage has escaped the watchful eye of our careers and superiors. We can finally be ourselves. We can finally have a life.
Everything feels so perfect, and suddenly, I realize with a jolt of my body, that it was too good to be true.
I open my eyes, and despite seeing only the darkness, I can feel the presence of my Coruscant apartment. I feel the other side of the bed spring up, as though weight had been suddenly relieved from it.
I had gotten so used to sleeping alone that it took me a second to remember that there was another occupant in the bed with me: Anakin.
I roll over slightly and strain my vision over my shoulder. From the small light beyond the bedroom I watch Anakin make his way down to the apartment's veranda and out of sight. A few shaky breaths echo through the empty, night silence.
Something is wrong, I tell myself. I know many things may be troubling him now. Perhaps he is feeling some troubling thoughts from the war? Maybe all of the fighting he's been though, all the starving and helpless refugees he's rescued, all of the narrow escapes he's made are finally taking their emotional toll on him now that he has a moment to relax and put an end to all of the worry.
I slowly climb out of bed intent on finding and consoling my husband, the beads of my nightgown rustling with my movements. I hastily slip on a pair of shoes and make my way slowly across the bedroom and down the flight of steps, which leads to the veranda.
I see him sitting in the darkness. I hear his small weeps among the low hums of cruisers and other traffic that stream throughout the sky. The only light comes from the billions of windows among the skyscrapers throughout our district.
He's watching the city, I try to tell myself to ease my concern. I want to believe he's observing the skyline, the recent empty spaces from where skyscrapers once stood before being cut down during the city battles. I want to think that his train of thought is fixed on the traffic and emergency vehicles, still weaving their way in and out of smog and remaining smoke columns.
The slight tappings of my shoes give away my presence. I descend down the stairs, the motion causing the lamps around the veranda to slowly go from off to an easy, dim light, just enough for Anakin's angular and intense facial features to become visible from the shadows.
I walk over to the couch where he is sitting on the edge of. He looks pained and emotional, tears glossing over his eyes. I wipe his cheek dry, and softly massage his neck and shoulder with my other hand.
"What's bothering you?" I ask him softly, hoping he opens up to me.
"Nothing," He replies, looking into my eyes. He gives me a gentle smile in an effort to wipe the concern from my own expression. Before I have a chance to protest and force the truth from him, his eyes go down to my chest. "I remember when I gave this to you."
He reaches out and grabs the japor snippet hanging around my neck. I've been wearing it constantly during these trying months as a way of hoping and keeping faith that Anakin will always return to me. It's become something of a charm to me.
His comment makes me think about the charm, but before I allow my clever Jedi to get me sidetracked, I attempt to pry to truth from him.
"How long is it going to take for us to be honest with each other?" I ask him. I don't need an answer. I need an explanation. What woke him up with such worry and pain?
He looks at me with a grim face. Avoiding my eye contact, it's as though recounting the dream is just as painful for him as seeing it in his sleep.
"It was a dream." He says to the Coruscant skyline.
"Bad?" I question, returning to massaging his tense shoulders.
"Like the ones I used to have about my mother, just before she died." He admits.
He hardly has to say anything more. I know where this conversation is turning. I know what he saw that caused him so much pain since he last experienced this and lost his mother. He saw me, the only thing he has left to fear losing.
"And?" I continue questioning, despite the knot that seems to be forming in my stomach. As much as I don't want to hear it, I need to know the truth. I begin forming questions from what I assume his dream involved.
"And…it was about you." He replies with a shaky voice and a new set of tears forming in his eyes.
"Tell me." I whisper to him.
"It was only a dream." He says, standing up and walking away from me. I know he only says this so I do not worry. But if it was only a dream, why is he so bothered by it?
He slowly paces to the edge of the veranda, overlooking the night sky. I know he doesn't want to tell me. I know he wants to hide his vision from my knowledge to prevent me from experiencing the same fear and worry he has to feel now. I remain by the couches, intent on giving him his distance.
Before long, he turns to face me and with the most helpless look I've ever seen across his face, he plainly admits, "You die in childbirth."
Hearing it from him feels like a dagger has just pierced my heart. Though it was exactly what I was assuming he saw in his dreams, hearing it from his lips, the same lips that kissed me goodnight, and told me that he loved me, gave me a heartache I've never felt before.
My immediate reaction is of our child. If I die in childbirth, does our baby survive? Was our child able to last, despite my death?
"And the baby?" I ask desperately, grapping hold of my pregnancy.
"I don't know." He says worriedly.
Worry fills inside of me. The baby will come in less than two months. If his dream tells the truth, I only have less than two months to live. I only have less than two months to hold Anakin in my arms, to nurture our unborn baby, and to continue my duties as a Senator. I try to tell myself it was just a dream. Still, Anakin thought the visions of his mother were simply dreams, but they proved themselves to be anything but.
"It was only a dream." I say without thinking. It's all I can bear to say. I walk over to Anakin who is now shaking in the night air. I need to calm him down, even if all it takes is a simple embrace.
Perhaps I should have checked with a Medical Droid prior to getting pregnant? Perhaps I should have seen if something inside of me would prevent me from having a healthy baby? I had always been cautious and skeptical about such examinations, however. I didn't dare let anyone get any ideas or begin to speculate that I was seeing someone and planning a pregnancy. Was it foolish of me to avoid a medical examination for fear that someone would discover our secret? In the moment it seemed necessary. Now, however, I wonder if the protection of our secret is worth my death and endangering our child?
"I won't let this one become real." He says, pulling me away and looking me in the eye.
I do not need him to tell me these things. His abilities cannot help me, but there are things that can. There are ways to prevent this dream from happening, however. Unlike Tatooine, Coruscant is at the forefront of technology and medical procedures. I am safe here. Medical droids can do wonders for the most serious of war injuries; they can surely deliver my baby and keep me alive.
"This baby will change our lives. I doubt the Queen will continue to allow me to serve in the Senate. And if the Council discovers you're the father, you'll be expelled from the Jedi Order."
For the first time, I allow myself to become vocal about the fears I have as consequences from our baby. Sure the Queen would not want me to serve any longer once I had the baby to take care of, however, I'm sure in time I could find ways of remaining active in the Senate, whether as a member of another Senator's staff, or through communication across systems. It was Anakin's future that I was truly worried about. The Jedi Order was his life. He had devoted himself to it and becoming a Jedi Master meant more to him than anything. The fear of his expulsion returns to me and puts me on edge.
"I know, I know," He says quietly. I do not want to bombard him with more things to fear and worry himself over the things I had months to contemplate, while he had not even a night. It baffles me how quickly things can go from blissful to tragic.
Hours ago, Anakin had just learned that he would become a father—that for the first time in his life he would be part of a proper family. Now, we both stand in the twinkling night sky of Coruscant, worried for our lives, our future, and the possibility of inevitable tragedy.
I want to find a way out of this mess just as we had been able to fight our way out of the Geonisis execution arena. But this was one situation that Anakin and I could not save each other from. He could not use his lightsaber to save me from death, and I could not use a blaster to save him from his dreams.
"What do we do?" He asked me, as if I had all the answers.
"Nothing. I'm not worried about your dream Ani. I can see a Medical Droid who can assure me I'm in perfect health. Everything will be all right. We'll be happy and safe together."
"We can't just wait. I can't just wait. I need to do something. I need to protect you—find a way to save you." Anakin says emotionally.
"Do you think Obi-Wan might be able to help us?" I suggest, thinking of the only person whom we can trust to keep our secret and have the ability to help us through this new crisis.
"Have you told him anything?" Anakin questions immediately.
"No, but he's your mentor and best friend. He must suspect something." I suggest to Anakin.
"He's been a father to me, yes, but he's still on the Council. Don't tell him anything!" Anakin insists.
"I won't Anakin." I promise him, embracing him tightly for added reassurance. Still, I cannot help but think that there will come a time when we will needed outside help—Obi-Wan's help—to aid in the protection of our secret and our lives.
"We don't need his help. Our baby is a blessing, not a problem." We continue our embrace as Anakin continues trying to convince me further. It worries me why Anakin is so opposed to letting Obi-Wan in on our secret. I know we can trust him. I know he can help us.
I would give my life for the safety and protection of Anakin and our child. I'm not worried about my death as much as I am what will become of the two of them when the time comes. As much as I want to celebrate our child as a blessing and expel any thoughts of it as a problem, events like this remind me that it truly is both.