Precipice by shadowsong26
Original Author's Note: As a note, there is a fair amount of discussion about dead babies in this chapter. There are no actual dead babies, but officially/on paper there is one, and Padme's family reacts accordingly.
Homecoming: Chapter 5
After several long discussions with her handmaidens, Padmẻ had decided not to stage an actual funeral for the child she had officially lost. It would raise too many questions-why she'd waited so long after her miscarriage, to start-and the performance she would have had to give, no matter how private they tried to make it, would have been excruciating. It was hard enough, having to walk away from her husband and daughter, knowing it would be years before she saw or held or spoke to them again, without having to visualize the worst possible alternative.
So, two days after she joined the others at Varykino, they simply buried the casket Sabẻ had provided in a corner of the estate. The tiny grave was visible from the balcony; from the same spot where she and Anakin had first kissed.
Padmẻ wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. Especially when she stood on that balcony, looking down at the tiny, graceful headstone, which stood in stark contrast to her memories.
But whatever her personal feelings about the site, it was in a pretty, quiet, shady part of the garden, just in from the beach. Exactly the sort of place she might have chosen, if her lie had been true.
And when she was down there-she went every morning, especially now that her handmaidens had very carefully decreased their vigilance against the inevitable paparazzi-she almost found it comforting. A place where she could actually give voice to her grief.
She was grieving; though it had taken her until the first morning after the burial, when she'd first slipped out and gone to lay flowers on her daughter's false grave. Even if the people closest to her were still alive, she had still lost-so many friends. So many allies. An entire world she'd believed in, from the moment she was old enough to believe in anything. She was grateful-beyond grateful-that it wasn't worse, but the loss still burned her. Having that space to grieve helped her more than she'd realized she'd needed.
She wondered, once or twice, if Anakin or Obi-Wan had found a way to do the same thing. She hoped they had.
Her genuine grief had, she was slightly ashamed to admit, helped her in other ways, too. She knew that eventually reports and images of her solitary retreat would work their way back to Palpatine, for one thing. And, for another, it had mostly quieted her parents' reproaches when she'd finally allowed them to visit, three days after Elle and Dorme had buried the casket.
"You should have told us," Mom had said.
Padmẻ had looked down at her hands. "I know. I know, I should have, but I couldn't...I had to tell h-her father first, and…"
At least she hadn't been lying about that part.
"Who is the father?" Dad had asked.
"He's…" The catch in her throat there hadn't been feigned, either. "He's…"
"Oh, Padmẻ …" Mom had said, and held her close.
She'd cried then. It had been...good, to feel like a little girl again, safe and warm and comforted in her mother's loving arms.
Mom had held her like that for a long time, stroking her hair and murmuring soft, gentle things, the words unimportant, blurring together. She and Dad hadn't asked about her child's father again.
Sola's reproach, on the other hand, had been...harder. Harder to sidestep. Harder to face.
"You used to tell me everything," she'd said over a cup of tea on the balcony.
Padmẻ stared down at the grave, mostly to avoid looking at Sola. "Not everything." Which was an evasion-and an awkward, clumsy one at that.
Sure enough, Sola refused to let her get away with it. "You know what I meant. Personal everything."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I know it doesn't mean much, but...I'm sorry."
Sola sighed heavily. "I know you are."
That had been three weeks ago. Her parents, Sola, and Pooja and Ryoo had stayed a few days, before going back to Theed, back to their lives.
Padmẻ knew she should have done the same. Her official retreat was only supposed to be for a month, and she'd been away from Coruscant for over six weeks now. Bail had sent a message this morning, asking very carefully when she planned to return. And a part of her felt guilty for leaving him hanging like that-she was supposed to be helping him build a resistance coalition in the Senate, but…
I can't leave. Not until I have Luke, publicly and officially and legally, she decided.
Which would-hopefully-be soon. Sabẻ had all the documentation for his identity established, and Sola was coming up again to visit, so she could get all the legal paperwork together. With her rank and connections, she could expedite the process and probably be back on Coruscant within another two weeks.
It wasn't fair that she could do that and so many would-be parents and children had to wait for so long. Something to fix, once the galaxy made sense again.
"Padmẻ?"
Startled out of her thoughts, she turned to Sabẻ. "Is Sola here yet?"
She shook her head. "No, not yet." She paused, studying her for a minute. "Are you all right?"
"I am," she said, turning resolutely away from the grave. "Just...worried about the details, I guess."
"All right." She reached out and touched Padmẻ 's arm, a comforting gesture. "This will work. I promise. Everything's in order, you just need-"
"I know," Padmẻ cut her off. "But everything's been going so wrong lately. I can't help but worry."
She nodded. "Of course." She glanced down into the garden, at the grave. "There's something you should know."
"Yes?"
She lowered her voice. "You know I set up cameras, right?"
Padmẻ stiffened. Yes, she'd known, and that was at least half of why there even was a grave, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. "Someone visited."
"Yes." Sabẻ squeezed her hand. "They scanned it and took a very small sample. The idea was, I think, to keep their desecration discreet."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And?"
"Thus far, they seem satisfied."
"That's…something, at least." She still wanted to strangle whoever had done it. Not Palpatine-though she knew he was ultimately responsible, she acknowledged that there were several people ahead of her in line for that-but the person who had actually violated something as sacred as an infant's gravesite. For what? What could possibly have motivated them? Money? Fear? Actual loyalty to the tyrant?
"We'll keep an eye on things," Sabẻ said, watching her. "Dorme and I are putting together a contingency plan, in case your subterfuge fails."
"Thank you," Padmẻ said. But if we did all this work, told all these lies, for nothing…
"It won't," Sabẻ said. "But we prepare anyway."
"Milady?" Elle joined them with a brief bow.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Sola's here," she said. "Are you ready?"
Padmẻ closed her eyes briefly and squeezed Sabẻ's hand one more time before letting go. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said. "Send her out here."
Elle bowed again and headed back into the house.
"Should I stay?" Sabẻ asked.
"No," Padmẻ said. "At least, not at first. It should be just me and Sola. I'll call you in for the specifics once I've explained what I can."
Sabẻ nodded and followed Elle back into the house.
Padmẻ turned back to watching the tiny grave, determinedly ignoring the mental images of someone searching it.
Forgive me, she said to her absent daughter. I know it's not really you in there, but...I'm so, so sorry.
She heard footsteps on the balcony behind her but didn't turn.
"Hey," Sola said, coming to stand next to her.
"Hi," she replied softly. "Thank you, for coming out to see me."
"I'm always happy to see you, Padmẻ," she said. There wasn't exactly a reproach there, but it still stung a little bit.
I'm not being fair to you. Or to Mom and Dad. But I have to protect Ani and the children, and myself. I hope, someday, you'll understand.
She took a deep breath and turned away from the grave to look at her sister. "I...um."
"What is it?" Sola asked.
"I…" She dropped her eyes. "I asked you here because...I wanted to see you, you're my sister, I love you, and we don't-my work doesn't…"
"Padmẻ," she interrupted, taking her hand and squeezing it briefly for reassurance. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize for your work. Not to me. And I know you're going back to Coruscant soon."
"Imperial Center," she said, and hated herself a little for it. "We're supposed to call it Imperial Center now."
"Imperial Center," Sola echoed, with a hint of distaste. "My point is-I know you're getting back to work. And I think...it'll be good for you. Instead of sitting here for weeks, brooding about…" Her eyes flicked over to the grave.
"That's...that's part of why I asked you to come here," Padmẻ said. "Not to say goodbye, not yet, I'm not...going back. I mean, I am, of course, I'm not resigning or anything." The Queen had offered her the option, given her recent personal tragedies, but she had declined. There was too much work to do. "Just…not quite yet. But you're right. I need to stop…" She swallowed. "I need a favor."
"Anything."
"I need a litigator."
Sola sat up straighter. "Don't you have five or six already?" she asked.
Padmẻ shook her head. "Senator Amidala has a handful of lawyers," she corrected. "I don't." She didn't always draw the line between the two so sharply, but it applied here.
"Right," Sola said. "I can...I can give you a few names, but what…?"
"I'm adopting a baby."
She stared at her for a long moment, then out at the grave, then back at her. "What?"
"I can't…" She turned away, gripping the balcony railing tight. Remembering, in an almost tactile way, Anakin's fingers ghosting along it, right before he'd leaned down and…
Not now. Not here. Focus.
"I can't keep...I can't keep l-looking out at that...at her, every day, and thinking…" She felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Not faked. Not forced. "There are...there are so many war orphans who need mothers, Sola, and I'm-"
There wasn't a word for it. Not in Basic, not in the old Naboo dialect or the Gungan language or Rodian or any of the others she'd learned over the years.
There was no single word for a parent whose child had died.
Sola softened, and pulled her into a close, silent hug. It just made Padmẻ cry harder.
"I get it," she finally said. "Of course, I'll help. I can give you a couple names."
"Thank you," Padmẻ said, sniffing a little. "I... there's a little boy. Sabẻ-Sabẻ found him, when I st-started talking about this. He's almost...he's about...she'd be his age. He has the sweetest blue eyes, you wouldn't believe…"
"Of course, you already have one in mind," Sola said fondly, and with a hint of exasperation that made Padmẻ smile, despite everything else that was going on.
Probably why she said it out loud. I love you, Sola, and I'm so, so sorry I can't show it properly.
"You always did go full-tilt at things, once you'd made up your mind," Sola continued. "Have you met him, or just seen pictures?"
"Just pictures," she said. Which was true, at least for the past few weeks. Since Sabẻ had placed him somewhere safe, to help establish his new identity. "I didn't...I didn't want to leave. Not yet. Not until I was ready to...to be the Senator again. And I didn't want to…he shouldn't have to deal with public scrutiny until this is a sure thing."
"You're still planning to go back?" Sola asked. "Even with a small child to look after?"
"I know it won't be easy. But I'll make it work," she said. "I just...I need this. And he needs a mother."
"All right. I'll help," Sola said. "He can stay with me and the girls, if you don't want to bring him to Cor-to Imperial Center."
"Thank you," Padmẻ said, meaning it. She didn't plan on leaving Luke behind, ever, but...well, her work had always been dangerous, and it would be even more so now. Besides, even with her handmaidens to help, infants were a lot of work, on top of their regular duties. It might become necessary to accept Sola's offer. And even if it didn't, she knew she'd need all the help she could get.
"We can work out the details after your adoption is finalized," Sola said, hugging her again.
"Yeah," she said, leaning into her sister for a minute.
"Does he have a name? Or have you picked one for him?"
"Luke," she said. "His name-his name's Luke. It's what-" She cut herself off. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Ani. Not here, not now. Especially not with Sola, who had figured out what was going on between them before even they had.
"You'd already picked names," was all Sola said, quietly and without judgment.
She nodded.
"Luke Naberrie," Sola said. "It has a nice ring to it, I think."
"It does," Padmẻ agreed.
They stood there quietly for a moment, looking down at the too-tiny grave in the garden.
"Thank you," Sola finally said. "For trusting me with this."
"I do trust you," Padmẻ said, her heart aching a little. "I always have. I just…"
"I know," Sola said, then let her go and stepped away from the railing. "I'm going to make a few calls, find you that litigator. Then I want to see those pictures Sabẻ has. All right?"
She nodded. "Of course," she said. "Thank you."
Sola smiled a little, and went back into the house, leaving Padmẻ alone once more.
True, her handmaidens were still with her, but...
It's not for much longer, she reminded herself, looking out at the lake instead of the grave, Anakin's phantom hands tracing the railing beside her. Luke will be here soon.
He couldn't come soon enough.