I am filled with a sense of uneasiness as soon as I step out of Bail's office. Having to keep this secret from Anakin was the last thing I wanted to do. I had just scolded him the other night for trying to keep a secret from me. I had forced him into telling me his nightmares when he tried to protect me from their horrors. I used our honesty and our trust and our love as a way to make him keep nothing secret from me. And now, here I am, going against all of that, and keeping a drastically dangerous and important secret from him.
I want to believe that the situation is not the same. I want to tell myself that him keeping a bad dream from me is a minimal matter compared to the trust and lives of these politicians that could be put on the line if the wrong person were to know about what we had discussed in our meeting. Yet, I still equate both situations to mean the same thing in the end. I will be hiding secrets from Anakin while he feels compelled to tell me everything, kept under the delusion that I'm doing the same. A secret is a secret. Whether about a dream, or a rebellion.
I know if the situations were flipped, and he was the one who had known about something in the Jedi Order, he would tell me. Wouldn't he?
It takes me longer to walk back to the transport from Senator Organa's office than it did to walk there. I suppose before I felt like I was on some sort of mission, and walked with a brisk pace to get there hastily, whereas I now walk with a slower, more tired and heavy step. I suppose it's a reflection of how I now feel with this new weight to bear.
I never expected to live a life so heavily centered on secrets. My personal life never mattered to me much in my youth, so I never expected to have a wedding at all, or have a hidden marriage at that. As if that weren't enough, I've also had to carry the secret of our unborn child for the past five and a half months. It's been harder and harder as time has gone on for obvious reason. Now, when at last I thought I could use my career as a way to escape the dreaded clutches of these secrets, I now have a secret alliance brewing with a group of senators, which has become possibly even a more important secret than my marriage.
All these thoughts on the many secrets I have to live with put stress and fatigue on me. I am exceptionally quiet on the way back to my apartment, and Captain Typho, I believe, sees it, as he makes no effort to question me or even start a conversation with me. Aside from him helping me into the transport, it's almost as though I could have forgotten he was traveling with me.
By the time we get to the veranda, the hot sun is beginning to set, casting a brilliant, golden glow all throughout the light, open veranda. The beads and embroidery of my robes illuminate in the sunlight, casting thousands of iridescent, shimmering reflections all over the metal transport.
I am hot and tired, and frankly need a good night's rest. I haven't seen Anakin since the night he had his nightmare. Normally this thought would worry me. Normally I would give anything to steal another night with my husband—a night of happiness and bliss we so easily get caught in when we are left alone in the world with nothing but our love. However, tonight, I want nothing more than to be alone. I need a night of reflection. I need a night to expel the worrisome thoughts of Anakin's safety and my apparent death from his visions and focus on trying to continue to do my duty as a Senator, wife, and potential mother. I need to think about how I am going to respond to Bail's requests. I need to think about how I can continue my pregnancy as an active member of the Senate, while also easing my way into a temporary state of retirement for when I can raise my baby. I need this night to be by myself.
Captain Typho helps me out of the transport with an extended hand, and as I stand up, feeling the weight of my heavy robes pull down on my tired, pregnant body.
"Thank you, Captian." I say with a pathetic smile.
"Take care, M'Lady. Get some rest." He says, as if he knows just how much I need a good night's sleep.
He briskly jumps back into the transport, taking off and flying up to the upper parking decks.
I march across the veranda, feeling the heftiness of my robes pulling me down, as the train drags across the floor in my wake. I approach two of my handmaidens, who stand expectantly, waiting for my return.
"I'll be up in a little while." I say to my handmaidens, Montee and Elle, who stand silently, expecting to guide me up the steps and help me undress. Instead, they bow silently, and disappear up the steps.
"Is there anything I might do for you, my lady?" Threepio asks, standing before me.
"Yes, make sure all the security droids upstairs are working properly. Thank you, Threepio." I say and dismiss him up the stairs as well, leaving me alone with my thoughts on the warm, quiet veranda.
Perhaps my colleagues are right. Maybe Palpatine's power has gotten out of control. Nevertheless, we are the ones to blame for handing him all this power time and time again with overwhelming support. I cannot help but feel like I have a bigger part in this since I was the one who had called for the election of a new Chancellor thirteen years ago when Chancellor Valorum refused to stand with me during the Naboo crisis. I was the one who supported Palpatine, gave him the opening for the position of power that he longed for. Despite all the good Palpatine has done for the Republic as Chancellor, would I still have done the same? Had I known he would use this power and continue to seek more and more control, would I have been so supportive for him to become our democracy's leader?
I cannot answer that right away, which makes me nervous. The doubt I feel about this issue confuses me. In the end, Palpatine has done nothing illegal. Are we taking his power too seriously? Are we speculating too much on this? What would my Jedi friends, like Obi-Wan and Master Yoda think about this? More importantly, what would Anakin think about this who is closer to Palpatine than anyone now.
Standing alone in the open veranda I feel a sense of relief. I do not have to watch my tongue. I do not have to hesitate on what to think or say for fear of insulting or offending anyone. I can sort out my thoughts, and there is no need to hold anything back. Before long I get lost in my swirling pool of thoughts and forget whether I had been out here for minutes or hours. However, the setting sun is still beating hot rays across the city, and the yellow-orange glow reflects off the sides of every towering skyscraper nearby. I haven't been out here for too long.
Suddenly I feel as though I'm not alone. I can sense someone else in the room.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I hear from behind.
I turn and see Anakin standing closely behind me, in his dark Jedi robes, greeting me with a happy smile. He was able to sneak one more night away from the Jedi temple and spend some time with me.
"You startled me." I say to him, though I walk into his arms. "It's still daylight! What are you doing here? Let's go inside, Anakin."
"It's alright. I've said it before: let them see us. I dare them." He replies.
"And I've said it before too: You're a famous man, people depend on you. I cannot take you away from the hopes of millions."
He smiles at me, and I can read through his smile that we can argue this over and over but will never reach a settlement.
"It's alright. I can't stay long. I'm going to meet with the Chancellor at the Opera House later this evening—official Jedi business."
I swallow deeply, nervous that his talk of duty will require me to talk of my own duties in the Senate.
We move over to one of the couches and sit closely next to each other.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, sounding concerned. Clearly the dream and my well-being are still on his mind. However, I force myself to take it as an inquiry about my pregnancy rather than my grip on life.
"He keeps kicking." I say, placing my hands and my gaze down on my pregnancy, hidden beneath my robes.
"He?!" Anakin asks, sounding surprised, "Why do you think it's a boy?"
"My motherly intuition." I laugh back.
I grab his large hand and place it softly on my belly so he could feel the baby's soft kicks.
"Whoa!" He exclaims, and the most genuine, happy smile, spreads across his face, "With a kick that strong, it's got to be a girl."
We laugh together, because I can tell his comment means that any baby girl that could come from me would have to be a fighter, given my experiences during the Naboo invasion, the Geonosis arena, and conflicts throughout the war.
As the conversation runs dry I change the subject to something less lighthearted, but trying to keep our conversation happy. With too little time to see each other lately, I don't want to spend our precious time together talking about nightmares or secrets.
"I heard about your appointment, Anakin. I'm so proud of you." I say to him, looking deeply at him with happy eyes.
He is not quick to respond and instead looks down back to my belly.
"I may be on the Council, but…they refused to accept me as a Jedi Master. They gave me a chair in the Council Chamber because they had to—because he made them, now that the Senate gave him control of the Jedi." He replies, sounding disappointed and resentful.
"Have patience. In time they will recognize your skills." I comfort him.
"They still treat me as if I were a Padawan learner. They fear my power—that's the problem." He continues as if I hadn't said anything to him.
"Anakin…" I say, trying to put an end to this. I hate it when he talks like this. I know he may feel cheated and hurt that he was not granted the title, but he shouldn't act so severely about it. In time he will earn his title, he just needs more time and experience. He's still rather young. But to Anakin, this means that the Council doesn't want him to be a Jedi Master.
He turns back down to my belly and says with a hint of disappointment, "Sometimes I wonder what's happening to the Jedi Order. I think this war is destroying the principles of the Republic."
He makes it seem as if the Jedi are the ones to blame.
I take deep breath. I cannot tell him everything about the meeting with Bail, but if there were ever a time to figure out his stance on the issue, it would be now.
"Have you ever considered that we may be on the wrong side?" I say, my heart sinks, and I look at him with a worried, cautious look.
"What do you mean?" He says, looking at me with suspicion in his eyes.
"What if the democracy we thought we were serving no longer exists, and the Republic has become the very evil we've been fighting to destroy?" I ask him, choosing my words carefully, while trying not to sound too invested in the idea.
"I don't believe that, and you're sounding like a Separatist." He says to me with eyes that reflect a strange, unfamiliar sense of anger.
I look at him hard, contemplating what to say next. Now I know not to dare bring up the meeting, or even mention another Senator's name. However, I think for a minute that as valiant as the Senators' efforts are to begin a sort of alliance within the political realm to go against the Chancellor, I have something that they do not: Anakin. Maybe if I can get to Anakin, we may not need to take this any further. Maybe all I need is to give Anakin the idea that I am noticing something wrong and that he can help me to fix it.
"This war represents a failure to listen. Now you're closer to the Chancellor than anyone. Please, ask him to stop the fighting, and let diplomacy resume." I plead, hoping he accepts my request.
"Don't ask me to do that." He protests, rising from the couch and walking away from me with a raised voice. "Make a motion in the Senate where that kind of a request belongs. I'm not your errand boy. I'm not anyone's errand boy."
My efforts are shot. Anakin won't help me. He's sided with his duty and the Chancellor over me. So I must do the same. I cannot mention another word of this to him. However, this means that I will now be putting all of my effort into Bail and Mon Mothma's alliance group.
Setting my duty aside, I cannot help but notice that Anakin sounds troubled. His voice seems shaky and nervous when he refuses my request. He grips the steel railing, which creaks as his mechanical hand gripping it tighter than any human hand could.
"What is it?" I ask him, rising from the couch and walking over to him. Despite our differences of opinion, I still love him. He is still my husband, and I need to support and heal him when he's hurt.
"It's nothing," He replies, turning away and expelling any further talk.
"Don't do this. Don't shut me out. Let me help you." I tell him, grabbing onto his arms and placing myself in his embrace.
"You can't help me. I'm trying to help you." He says, referring to saving me from imminent death he sees in his dreams.
"I sense there are things you're not telling me." He continues after a moment of silence.
My heart sinks, and I look back up at him with offended eyes and a furrowed brow.
"And I sense there are things you're not telling me." I retort, but immediately break into a smile when I see the look of embarrassment on his face. "Hold me…like you did by the lake on Naboo…so long ago, when there was nothing but our love—no politics, no plotting, no war." I finish, dreamily, closing my eyes and picturing those lost moments on the garden terrace or in the rolling meadows where we spent our time in seclusion flirting, and falling in love, forgetting our jobs, our lives, and the galaxy around us.
I look up and see Anakin looking out over the city. His face still looks concerned and troubled. This worries me more than I allow my face to show. After all this time, after all we've given up for each other, I wonder if he can even remember what those days were like. I wonder if he can recall our first kiss, or laughing in the grass.
"I have to go," He says to me, "The Chancellor is waiting."
And without another word, he is gone. My arms fall to my side, and despite having just been wrapped in his embrace, I cannot help but feel father from him now than weeks prior when he was across the stars, and I was here on Courscant.