A/N: To make life simpler, I've adopted standard Western names for swimming techniques (freestyle, breaststroke, etc.) to communicate descriptions accurately and quickly.

This very important chapter is dialogue heavy. In my head canon, Natalie (Oscar winner) Portman and Hayden (totally underrated) Christensen knocked it out of the ballpark.

Chapter 14. First Swim

Sometimes
you have to drop your guard
so that your heart
may breathe
- Emma Xu

To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable
To make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength
- Crissi Jami

In accordance with the custom of my people, blue is oftentimes a shade of mourning for a specific reason— it is the color of water. For a species non-indigenous to Naboo, we are immensely, spiritually connected to her liquid basins. Humans settled on the planet so many generations ago; mythical fables had been curated and deeply embedded into our collective psyche about our adopted home. So much of our art, agriculture, transportation, and religious ceremonies are symbolically and actually intertwined with water. In fact, weddings that are not held on the shore of a lake, river, or ocean are said to be cursed matches.

This attachment to visible shoreline scenery even extends to funerals. The belief claims our souls drift up from the deep liquid core of the planet to grow in our mother's womb, and upon our deaths, there our souls return. Funeral processions or pyres are often located on water routes, to ensure that the last travel is quicker and easier for a soul in its journey from the body to the final resting place below. The most beloved and esteemed of our people have been honored with a grand, public funeral procession down the bridges and canals of Theed herself, though, this has only happened a handful of instances in the history of our people. I never witnessed anyone receive such an honor in my lifetime.

Personally, it's a not a religious policy I particularly subscribe to— I never quite liked the idea of my soul turning about in the core of the planet like a garment in a washing turbine. Not to mention, this philosophy ignores the discovery that ravenous sea beasts inhabit the inner tunnels of Naboo. I always appreciated the sentiment all the same. Aquatic monsters aside, there's something cleansing and beautiful about the idea. Regardless, blue has meaning in our mourning clothes as a call of sacred celebration, heralding that a soul (or souls) has returned to the source.

Arguably, clothing— its color, its presentation, its symbolism— intertwined with my life more than the average woman.

As a young teenager, I had occasionally been intimidated by the elaborate, cumbersome weight of my regal wardrobe. It was an honor to be a walking piece of art and tradition as I represented my people, but that didn't make the embedded lanterns, sequins, beads, and general sheets of fabric any lighter.

I never would've thought I'd be tilting my head at a single layer, body-forming outfit that altogether weighed less than one of my shoes. After all, I'd worn swimsuits throughout my childhood and adulthood with relative comfort— I was one of the Naboo. We lived half of our lives in and around water. It was almost surprising that displaying a proficient freestyle stroke wasn't a prerequisite of campaigning for public office. Water recreation was the past-time, especially in the Lake Country.

Standing in front of the swimwear options I'd laid out on my bed, I pursed my lips in thoughtful scrutiny. At least there was one option I'd mentally eliminated immediately. I hadn't even bothered to pull Dormé's lingerie-esqe suggestion from wherever Teckla stashed it. That bikini had to be new, unworn— they could use it to strain the vegetables for dinner for all I cared.

I glanced up at R2-D2 in the corner. The many steps and bumpy gravel of the estate didn't assimilate pleasingly with his sensors. Paddy had taken one look at Artoo's robust wheels and said a prayer for the delicate grass on the lawn. Nandi and Teckla were more concerned about the dirt he might track across the glossy tile floors of the villa, the ones they took pride in keeping clean. Essentially, everyone— including, apparently, the droid— agreed that unless otherwise needed, Artoo should spend as much of his stay at Varykino relaxing in one spot. Just as he had on Coruscant and many other nights before, he was set to do his best to keep surveillance for me while I slept.

I raised an eyebrow at him and pointed at the options spread out before me. "What do you think? Which would you want to wear?"

He beeped a response at me in his trilling binary language. I smiled.

"I don't think orange is your color, Artoo."

The amount of selection I thought I'd have to choose from was more depleted that I expected. My body hadn't changed very much in recent years, so my old swimsuits technically still fit, but they were so frayed and loose from overuse and time that I was scared they'd slip off in the water. My mother's were conservative, yet slightly too big, and would ultimately present the same problem. I finally settled on my best option— a swimsuit I assumed belonged to Sola. In addition to being one piece, it had a dainty skirt sewn in that would stretch from my front waist down to just alongside my upper thighs, hiding the triangle of my nether regions, though just barely. But it was siren red in color and designed with two long, curved patches of mesh fabric which teasingly revealed the skin on my sides. As if that wasn't risqué enough, the neckline was lower than I anything I'd worn in years. It was daring even for my more free-spirited sister. The ensemble must've been a carryover from Sola's visit during her honeymoon.

I thought about what Anakin's reaction to seeing me in something like this might be. I remembered the eyes gazing after me wantonly in the mirror after he'd told me he was grown up on Coruscant. A prick of adrenaline and my skin suddenly became alert.

Swimming at Varykino was a fun, family recreation, but that amiable history didn't seem to fit in with the idea of frolicking in the water with Anakin. But these were my options and this entire operation had been my idea. I refused to retreat. If I walked out of that room fully dressed to meet Anakin in his swim trunks and called the whole thing off, our barely reestablished rapport would suffer. Besides, if I kept my arms neutrally at my sides, one couldn't even see the see-through-mesh stripes. Mostly.

No sense in delaying the inevitable. I put on the red swimsuit, decided to leave my feet bare, and plaited my hair into a quick, tidy braid down my back. I grabbed a towel from the washroom and took my leave, disinclined to give into temptation and give myself a once over in the full-length mirror watching me as I left.

Just before I reached the archway which would lead me to the top of atrium's staircase, I realized I still had a moment where I could wrap the towel around myself. It would have to come off eventually when we reached the beach, but I could take a few more seconds of modest coverup if I chose.

You're friends. It's Ani.

I told myself that the grin on my face and the lightness in my attitude when we'd done the villa tour was a result of two friends back on friendly footing— not flirting. As if determined to prove this fantasy real, I kept the folded towel underneath my arm as I proceeded forward. For someone so opposed to deception, I was forming a masterful list of lying to myself.

He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me; his hands were clasped behind his back. My initial reaction to seeing him in street clothes on the sunny balcony of my Coruscant apartment failed in comparison to this.

King of the Breath-Takers, if not a knight in a passionless order. I'd never seen Anakin so stripped down before. He'd chosen a pair of black swim trunks which fit like they'd been made for him. His defined calves were visible below the hem line where the trunks stopped below the knees. A beige, lightweight tunic rested preciously loose on the skin of his torso and arms. It was long, falling down past his wrists and stopping low around his middle at the hips, but to say it covered him would be a stretch. The material was thin enough to leave almost nothing to the imagination as to the muscular shape of his body. If that wasn't enough, the tunic dropped down into a low V at the front, exposing the center of his smooth chest.

I slipped into using every single tactical skill I had as quickly as I could to mask the response he elicited. Unmasked, Anakin himself was staring at me like he had on the balcony terrace— prior to our kiss. I barely quenched a tremble.

I lightly gripped the banister in my right hand and made my way forward. Focused eyes followed my slow walk down the stairs. I didn't realize till I was halfway down that, all that way, his angle during my descent made the strategic skirt pointless every time I lifted a bare leg. Not only that, but my raised arm to hold the banister immediately revealed the mesh stripe on my right side just as much as the towel under my left arm covered it. So much for an attempt at modesty.

As I have declared, I know how to read a room. There is also something to be said for womanly intuition. We know when we're being looked at with desire. Anakin held nothing back in his gaze. But instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable, I found myself feeling… compelling. Sensual. It was as if I'd been given the key to an element of power I'd always had but never wanted to truly use. I'd been looked at by men before in the way Anakin was looking at me now— well, not exactly the same, for no man could match his unique stare— but I'd never sought out such attention and almost always rejected it if it came to that. But now… the way Anakin was looking at me made me feel commanding, in a way being the ruler of a planet never had. I might've relished in it more if I wasn't so equally distracted by him.

I paused when I reached the next-to-last step and stood eye to eye with him, a first for us. Anakin licked his lips and then smiled, giving me that characteristic, closed grin where only one side of his mouth rose.

My voice came out calmer than I would have expected given the pace of my heartbeat. "Are you ready?"

He nodded, his mouth parting to show white teeth as his smile grew. "After you." He extended a gentlemanly arm out wide in front of him in the direction of the door.

I wasn't that bold yet. Choosing to walk beside him instead of directly in front of him, we strolled towards the door to make our way to the beach.

After arriving, we stood on the bank side by side, both of us looking out over the water. It was a mild day and the tide was low, leaving us ample beach to enjoy at our leisure. The golden sun was lowering on Varykino, and we maybe had an hour and a half of solid swimming before we'd have to start getting ready for dinner.

Without preamble, Anakin bent his arms behind his head, gripped the light fabric in his hands behind the neck, and pulled his hands forward and down. The shirt slipped off him as fluidly as the water around us, leaving his entire top half bare. He casually flung the shirt behind him, and it landed too perfectly— Jedi powers— on the top of a bush, safe from sand. I averted my eyes but too late. I'd seen the defined torso, beginning with the broad chest, continuing with the abdomen, ending in a V that extended below the top of his trunks. The control I felt back on the stairs left me and now I was just trying to hold myself together. We were supposed to be two friends engaged in an innocent swim after a momentary hiccup on the terrace. However, the unmistakable arousal in my body and the way he was still sneaking looks at me in my own swimsuit defeated any notion of platonic friendliness.

I went for the only cover I could come up with. I rushed into the small waves, the weightlessness lifting me the further out I went until I finally dove under. I'd told Ani the absolute truth earlier— I love the water. It was always my most saving grace, the ultimate refresher for my mind and spirit. My father used to tease that there had been a mix up; I was a Gungan soul which had journeyed up into a human's body.

For a minuscule moment, lost in my bliss, I forgot about the responsibilities, the expectations— those put on by me just as much as by others. I even forgot about Anakin. My entire existence was reduced to my body celebrating its return to the underwater world. In such a state of rapture, even if only for a second of time, even I could believe my soul had come from an ethereal realm in the planet core.

I came up for air while ducking under a few more times, but eventually I noticed the sound of motion was entirely my own. I'd anticipated Anakin would have joined me at this point, but I turned my gaze back to the beach and was surprised to only find him ankle deep in the water. Waves receded rhythmically at his feet like they were trying to tug him towards their depths. I had trouble reading the look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

His lips twitched into a half of a brief smile. "I don't know how to swim."

With my arms treading in the water and my head bobbing above the surface like a berry, I stared back at him to see if this was a joke. His face plainly told that he was serious. "Oh." I hadn't thought to consider this possibility. Of course he wouldn't have learned how to swim on Tatooine, but I'd assumed that would've been remedied in the time he'd been a pupil of the Order. "Really?" The word came out more disbelievingly than I'd intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. "No one ever taught you after you became a Padawan?"

"Younglings learn," he nodded sheepishly. "Very young younglings." He paused, as if nervous about my reaction. "I kept dragging my feet to join a class of what I essentially considered babies, and I think Master Obi-Wan eventually forgot. We haven't had any missions that necessitated extended swimming. Now, I don't want to tell him. He, ah, he won't be happy."

"And here I thought pride was chastised in the Jedi Order."

"Don't tell Obi-Wan," he joked, half-heartedly.

I put an index finger to my lips in a symbol of my vow of silence. "Come on, I'll teach you."

He looked at the horizon of the water and back to me warily. "Are you sure?"

I smiled widely at him. "I promised— the sea beasts can't reach us here."

To put it kindly, Anakin was a bad student and a clumsy swimmer. He simply did the opposite of most of whatever I instructed him to do. He kept asking me to show him the strokes, and I'd dutifully swim literal circles around him in the water in demonstration. Instead of mimicking me, he thrashed around like a wookie afraid of taking a bath.

He also kept asking me to recite the names of the strokes multiple times, which got embarrassing quickly. He apparently kept forgetting the name for the technique classified as the 'breast stroke'.

Despite his awkwardness and surprising lack of skill, we were laughing like children again. My true amusement, however, came when I realized he'd yet to put his head under the water. In fact, that was likely half the trouble of his failed swim technique; he seemed to be doing all he could to keep his neck and even upper shoulders above the surface. I let him know that I'd noticed with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin as I said, "I've never seen a man so protective of his hair before."

Anakin, only chest deep in the water, beamed back at me. His longer legs and torso meant he could stand in an area where I, once again, had to tread to keep air accessible to my lungs. "Obi-Wan has his mullet; I have my golden strands. I must protect them for the good of the Republic."

"The good of the Republic?" I laughed and tread a little closer to him. "Is that right?"

Anakin nodded, but he eyed me with a growing smile of mock trepidation as I grew nearer. The tips of his fingers peeked up out of the water, as if ready in defense. "If they get wet, I may as well hang up my lightsaber."

My eyebrows flashed up once in the only warning I gave. It was all the time he had before my first splash came.

We instantly erupted into a battle of manic, wild water pushes. Anakin and I laughed and yelled as we assailed each other with canon-like discharges of cool liquid. I could barely see him behind the avalanche of spray, and I gasped for air with a face-splitting grin as his rain poured down my face. I gave almost as good as I got, but despite my spirited efforts, I was quickly at a disadvantage— not only were Anakin's arms twice the mass of mine, thus sending twice the amount of water my way, his feet were also planted on the lake floor while I was still doing my best to keep my head above water. As active as I'd been in the water earlier in my life, I hadn't swam much recently; my arms, abs, and thighs were starting to burn.

Anakin's prized hair was well and thoroughly doused at this point, but something came over me, and a split-second later I rushed him as rapidly as my tiring legs would spring me. I launched half of myself onto his upper chest and shoulders, cradling my arms around and atop his wet head in an effort to dunk him with my weight just like Sola and I had with each other as girls.

In a claim I'd wager few can make, I stunned the young Jedi enough to overpower him, and he tipped over in the water like an astounded tree. My abdomen felt the brush of his head as he sunk beneath me, and I squealed with victory loud enough for his drowned eardrums to hear while I fell with him. The skin of his shoulders was smooth and taunt under my limbs, and I remembered to be mindful not to accidentally knee his head. My support submerged, I took a quick breath before my face succumbed to the lake beneath the surface, too.

When we were both well and truly under, I carefully swam away from him, an underwater smile still plastered to my face. When I broke through to the sunlight again, I twisted in the pool towards the young man behind me. I was grinning, I was hyper with energy, I was having fun.

I was everything he didn't seem to be.

Anakin wasn't looking at me. A shaky hand wiped down his face from crumpled brow to wet lips. He was blinking rapidly, as if trying to catch his bearings.

My grin immediately disappeared. "Ani?" He wasn't coughing, but I suddenly grew concerned that I'd caught him too off guard when I'd dunked him. "Are you alright?"

He lifted a palm, the back of which I saw from my vantage point. "I'm sorry."

Concerned, I swam closer. I had no idea what caused his abrupt change in demeanor, but despite his apology, I worried I'd been the one to do something wrong.

I suddenly remembered my words to Anakin on Coruscant when he'd expressed excitement about returning to Naboo. It was soon after I'd learned we'd be going into hiding. I'd chastised him for calling it a vacation, which in all reality he had not. Yet, all of a sudden, I was very much acting like it was one.

Realization and shame attacked me just a second before Anakin's deft fingers did. They reached out and wrapped securely around my hips like he'd already memorized them, then he quickly pulled me closer as his arms bent at the elbows.

My eyes went wide while his suddenly came to life. The inappropriateness, the failure, the hypocrisy of my behavior triggered a firestorm of shock and regret in me, but it was a half-second too late— he was already catapulting me through the air. Anakin had tricked me into coming closer just so he could grab and playfully launch me across the water, not unlike my father had when I was a child.

Instead of immediately swimming to the surface like any normal, composed person would have, I let myself sink like dead weight, my anger at myself manifesting as an anchor that pulled me down.

Anakin wasn't my father. This wasn't playful innocence between platonic friends. How could it be, when even as disgrace and guilt had suddenly swarmed me, I'd felt unspeakable pleasure at feeling his hands glide— however briefly— around my waist? That even amongst all the rising layers of my remorse, there had been a feeling of disappointment when it registered that he hadn't pulled me in for a kiss.

In my self-imposed water prison, my lungs began to ache for air. As much as I'd been dubbed a Gungan in my younger days, I had empty human pillows in my chest. I'd been too distracted to take a gulp of air before I'd crashed into my involuntary bath. I kicked my legs and made for the undulating ceiling, hearing a muted commotion of movement to my right. When I emerged, Anakin was less than an arm's length from my face. He was looking at me with eyes wild with worry, and no wonder— it had been at least ten seconds between my landing in the water and actually emerging above. A faint voice in the back of my mind, the swim instructor who noticed he was doing a perfect tread in the deep water, allowed her praise to die on my lips. Even as they moved around me in supportive figure-eights, my hands urged to reach out, to wrap themselves around his slick shoulders and my legs around his waist.

The fierce power of this desire only made me feel more disgusted in myself.

I couldn't see Anakin. I was blind to the massive mountains around Varykino. I could only see the abandoned desk on Coruscant. The fight against the Military Creation Act that was going on without its presumed leader. In a rash moment, I cursed the feel of water and the resplendent nature around me. I should've been feeling the grip of my podium in the Senate Rotunda as my chest filled with air, not to continue a leisurely swim, but to deliver an effectual speech. And, by the Gods, I should not be sending such cruel mixed signals to my bodyguard when I could never, we could never, follow through.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, sputtering water as my breath spoke against our small waves. My arms abruptly sliced into the lake as I immediately began to kick myself back towards the shore. I always was the fastest Naberrie in the water. As soon as I could stand, I made a straight line for the beach. What in the moons of Naboo was I thinking? He kisses me, I shut him down, and not an hour later I suggested an activity that has us half-naked? And then I literally throw myself at him in the water? This is my grand plan at work?

Anakin was close behind, following just over my left shoulder.

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. Please, look at me. I'm sorry, Padmé—"

I spun to face him, my long braid swinging round to collide with my left breast. We each halted our march. "No, Anakin, I'm sorry. This is my fault. This was all my idea."

All of it— even coming to Varykino. The Chancellor may have off-handedly suggested the Lake Country, but I'd been sensible enough to be worried about choosing a romantic, exotic location to seclude myself with Anakin before Dormé and I had started packing. Then I'd done it anyway. The brilliance in my plan eroded away.

This is what suffices for an "unflappable demeanor"? "Professional behavior"? How did a people ever trust me with an entire planet?

Droplets hung off Anakin's eyebrows and eyelashes. He was looking at me under them earnestly as his head shook from side to side. Some of the liquid beads flung away with the motion. "I shouldn't have thrown you, that was uncalled for."

"I tried to dunk you first, this is not—"

"—No, I knew better—"

"Swimming was my idea in the first—"

"—Padmé, I apologize—"

"Don't—"

"I'm sorry!"

{I'm sorry we couldn't follow through. I'm sorry it came so close.}
Self-flagellation after a bounty hunter escaped capture.

{Sorry, milady.}
Unapologetic eyes devouring me in my closet mirror.

{Sorry?}
After I snapped at his misunderstanding about his refugee disguise.

{I overreacted. I'm sorry.}
A threat over dejarik bets gone horribly wrong.

{Sorry, milady.}
Aggravated eyes in a throne room.

{I'm sorry!}
Anguish on the terrace after I'd interrupted the perfect kiss.

A bloodied face with eyes full of remorse flashed into my mind.

{My lady, so sorry. I've failed you, Senator!}

"STOP saying you're sorry, Cordé!"

We froze in the surf and stared at each other.

Even neighboring birds went silent for several seconds after my outburst. Anakin was looking at me like I was a spooked animal.

Deciding to do it only a moment before I did, I took a few rapid steps, crouched at the waist and knees, and dove horizontally back under the water. I barely, barely suppressed the urge to use its near-camouflage to let out a scream. It felt like if I did, even the sea monsters would hear me through the miles of rock separating my water world from theirs— but they were not who I was desperate to reach. I wanted my vocal reverberations to seek and find Cordé's soul through the bedrock, to locate her in the poetic turbine I'd been preached to about since before I was old enough to grasp the concept of spirituality.

Despite the clamping of my mouth to prevent the wail, an exodus of energy radiated out from my bones and skin, leaving me limp and pitiful. My hysteria exhausted but my revelations only beginning, I came to a weary stand again in the water. A train of liquid fell from my braid and shoulders. I knew the sun's rays were on my back, but I couldn't feel their warmth.

"I didn't…" I rubbed the temple of my forehead, suddenly very tired. "I need to sit down."

Anakin was watching me, obviously still concerned. He followed close as I slowly trudged through to the edge of the water, as if he worried I might falter. When I made enough steps sturdily enough, he stopped in the last bit of the surf and watched as I sunk to my rear end in the soft sand.

I brought my knees up to my chest and looked up at his face wearily; it beheld more kindness and calm than my freakish exhibition warranted. Seeing his unruffled expression, a wash of embarrassment fell over me and my gaze returned to my dripping legs. He was giving me space, but inviting me to talk. Just because I wasn't used to sharing my feeling with others didn't mean I didn't know what it looked like when someone wanted me to.

Politician I may be, but I made it my mission to speak from the heart as much as possible in my work. I'd developed a reputation as a genuine, caring leader, and this description meant more to me than any of the official titles I'd carried. But opening the folds of my heart in the endeavor of vulnerability to Anakin… that was something else. I was used to tending to other's fissures and breaks, not my own. Hiding them from others was the first step to hiding them from myself.

I peered up at Anakin again, and we studied each other wordlessly. I hadn't even confessed the thoughts that were congealing in my mind to my sister, but he'd asked me to trust him in the dining room; with his knee on the ground, he essentially swore I could feel safe with him, that I could trust him with my protection, with my security, with my life. But could I trust him with this?

With the intimacy of a heart that didn't know how to be held, even when it needed it?

Did such a notion fall under the parameters of a bodyguard?

I replayed moments since our reunion in my head with a new perspective, something I'd already done at least once if not twice today. I'd agonized over a kiss back in my bedroom, but just like Anakin had, there were things which needed to be aired and addressed that had nothing— and everything— to do with the bond forming between us with unprecedented speed. From tabloid and political journalists who never came close, to family and handmaidens who often found themselves forfeiting, many had tried to crack open my inner monologue but very, very few ever succeeded.

Perhaps it was because he'd been so unfiltered and unmasked with me since the first moment. Perhaps it was due to how he was silently encouraging me to talk but without exerting any pressure. The generous absence of it made me, for once, open my mouth to start.

I looked out at the water, then I began a confession I'd been pushing down for untold months. "I've never been this tired, Ani, not even when I was Queen. The week after the invasion ended is a— it's a blur, a fog of exhaustion and pushing myself to keep going, to patch Naboo back together. But even that calmed down after a few weeks." The old habit resurfaced as an elbow balanced on my knee so that I may rub my temple. A shaky sigh rattled my exhaled breath. "I've felt like this for a year."

At my extended pause, Anakin gazed at me sympathetically, then softly ventured, "It's understandable, Padmé. You work like you have the galaxy on your shoulders."

An immediate urge to counter that it was a privilege to work on behalf of trillions fought against the inner folds of my lips. Sincerely, I didn't have the energy to proclaim anything right now, and I didn't need to in order to know the ideal was true.

"All these systems think an army is the solution, yet they are ignorant to what that truly represents. So many of them haven't seen war in centuries. They don't carry the scars…" I wasn't sitting here to make a pitch against the MCA. My days of doing that were, for the foreseeable future, finished. "I gave up my life for a year to fight the creation of this military force. Now I'm picking out swimsuits and sitting on a beach, and I don't even know if the Senate has voted."

Anakin made a move with his hand and, accompanied with the expression on his face, I gathered he was asking if he could sit next to me. I nodded. He sat, farther away than a lover, but closer than a professional acquaintance. It was the nearness of a friend.

His voice was kind. I could tell he merely sought to understand. "I know how much this means to you, but surely you've seen legislation you fought against pass?"

"This one is different." I shook my head. "I'm a wartime queen from a peaceful planet." I let out a laugh, a hollow sound. "I'd have to fly to another system to find someone who can truly empathize with what that was like."

{I wasn't the youngest Queen ever elected, but now that I look back on it, I'm not sure I was old enough. I'm not sure I was ready.}

I'd had to be strong for everyone else at the tender age of fourteen, never stopping to take a breath for myself. I'd always put off my own feelings about the blockade and my stress to be dealt with after I solved the next problem, after I took care of other's needs. It was in my nature, and I did not mourn this, but the longer I sat ruminating next to Anakin in that bed of sand, the more I realized I never learned how to turn this drive off— even for something as simple as a swim.

Anakin's low timbre soothed my frayed anxiety even more than his words did. "Your experiences have made you an even greater shepherd. If you did not carry the scars and know what you were fighting to preserve, you wouldn't have been such an effective leader of the opposition."

"But it's made me irritable, edgy." I looked to him apologetically. "I know I've snapped at you. Even with all the happy moments at the house, Sola saw how tense I've become. My sister told me some things... what's been happening in her life. I didn't know. I had no inkling of it. It's something a good sister would've been there for." I folded my forearms across my knees. "I like playing dejarik, but I don't enjoy feeling moved about like a pawn piece in my own life. I'm used to feeling in control, and I haven't felt like I've had any since…" Since win? Since before the arguments with Captain Typho about whether or not it was safe to return to Coruscant for the vote?

I looked out over the lake again. My spiritual basin. Work exhaustion wasn't the issue— or at least, wasn't what had caused me to spiral out in the water.

Even the soothing caresses of my magic elixir had failed me. The longed for respite lasted all of one splash fight before I remembered why I was here— why I was at Varykino in the first place. Just three days after Cordé died in my stead, I'd been painting water through the air with Anakin in a jeweled paradise. What right did I have to laugh, to play, to be aroused in the presence of this vibrantly alive young man so soon after she and the rest of my servicemen had been murdered?

"I was keeping my head above water, so to speak, but I haven't been myself since the first attack." This felt like a massive secret I'd been harboring from the second I was hustled onto Jar Jar's transport on the fiery landing platform. Saying it out loud, though, I realized how obvious it had been to the people around me this entire time. I remembered the way Dormé gazed at me on the couch when I became upset at being prohibited from attending the memorial services. The expression on her face when I— so viscerally emotional and angry— pleaded during my call with the Chancellor.

If my Amidala mask was a tangible object, at that moment, I would have thrown the waste of material into a trash compactor.

Anakin nodded. "Since Cordé and the others."

I took a shaky breath in, preparing myself. I called upon the tranquilizing view in front of me for strength. This was the hard part. "I can still…" No. I wouldn't cry. Not here. I'm not ready. I will say these things, but I'm not ready to fall apart. Despite my willpower, my voice was hardly above a whisper. "I can still see her shoes. What an odd thing to remember, isn't it? They were gray". Had they always been gray? Or did they only appear that way in my memory because of the ash that covered the shoes the last time I saw them— blown to shreds on the platform. "The explosion blew them right off her feet."

Her shoes.

My shoes.

A pair from my own wardrobe, which fit Cordé's likewise little feet. A white dress from my closet, originally tailored to form around my body. All of it, the attire Senator Amidala was supposed to die in if not for Cordé— literally— stepping into my shoes.

"She died in my arms and there was nothing I could do about it. And I didn't even have time to mourn. I had to—to get to the Senate. I had to make them understand!" I looked up at him with tired eyes. "And then you and Obi-Wan arrived." I left out the significant part about how being around the new and intense Anakin Skywalker hadn't given me a moment of peace since he stepped off the elevator. Feeling like I'd lost control of my mind and my body because of him was one of the biggest destabilizing factors of all. Even now, the vision of him sitting half-naked and beautiful by the water was driving me delirious.

My head sunk between my knees. Only after a deliberate, deep breath did I raise my chin. "When I say I spent time away from my family to fight against the Military Creation Act, Anakin, those aren't just words. Those are missed birthdays, missed—" I thought again of my sister and her marriage. "Missed chances to be a shoulder someone I love needed to lean on. Missed time and memories I'll never get back."

Now that I'd swept the rust off of my pressure valve, I couldn't seem to stop the vent. "First, it was the year-long battle to stop the MCA— don't get me wrong, I wanted to, I don't regret that— but it was many handshakes and promises that may never come to fruition. Then we were rushing to Theed last month for emergency meetings. Then the journey from Naboo back to Coruscant, cramped in a fighter jet the whole way. It was a sixteen-hour trip."

I was complaining to the zealous pilot about flight time. But Ani was still watching me with patient, kind eyes. This was new for us— I'd never seen him so quiet while I talked at length before.

"You were there. You know better than anyone how little I slept that same night when the Kouhuns were planted. The very next morning, I'm sent packing to return to Naboo just after making the trip the day before. Suddenly, it's trying to sleep on the freighter, the meeting with the Queen, the fear in my parents' faces." I closed my eyes. For the umpteenth time that week, my tear ducts fought to find their release. I was so very tired. "And it's not that I'm not enjoying myself with you, Anakin. I am. I love seeing your reaction to Naboo and I am sorry I've snapped at you, and that I struggled to grasp the fact that you've grown up." I drew in a high-pitched breath as my emotions rose. "But I'm terrified I've left Dormé and Typho there to die in my place while I'm— I'm…"

I didn't have strength yet to say it. Even then, in my chamber of confession, to admit I was falling for Anakin was as impossible as it was irredeemable.

I looked up at him, vulnerable and weary. He regarded me solemnly, but I saw no judgment in his gaze for all the whining he must've thought I'd just done. The elite Senator Amidala. The former child queen, emphasis on child, finally complaining like one. No, instead, all I saw in his look was compassion.

{Compassion, which I would describe as unconditional love…}

Whatever he called his brand of compassion, it was all over his face.

The waves crested and rested at our feet. I watched as they tickled our toes, retreated in a dash, and then prepared to go again. Over and over. Our somber mood meant nothing to the frothy liquid's play.

It was a long time before he spoke.

"Do you wish you could punish the ones behind it?"

"Do you mean kill?"

His grim eyes told me did.

I let humid air infiltrate my lungs deeply. I savored the flavor before letting it escape on a smooth exhale. "I am beyond angry. When Obi-Wan tracks down the culprits behind the plot and they are taken to trial, whatever justice the courts decide is what I will live with." His eyes pressed me for a true answer. I stared back at him somberly. "No, I can't wish death on anyone like that."

I thought about Nute Gunray. Thousands of my precious Naboo and hundreds of Gungans, not to mention the forests of animals that also perished, lost their lives at his doing. Crowds had been calling for his death for years. I'd never been one of them. Even after what happened on the landing platform, to actively advocate for more death went against a rule embedded in my core.

"When I was a kid," Anakin cleared his throat. "I used to believe that Jedi couldn't be killed. They were these larger than life, mythical beings." The small smile on his lips faded. "But Qui-Gon was right. He proved himself how right he was." He pushed a finger into the sand and aggressively dragged it. "I've known other Jedi who have fallen, ones I knew longer than Qui-Gon. Some were Padawans I'd trained alongside." The drag stopped as he instead buried his finger into the sand as far as it would go. We both watched his emotional excavation play out. "Yoda, Obi-Wan, all the Masters—it's always about celebrating when someone moves on into the Force. Letting go. It's seems so easy for them." He shrugged, but the move looked bitter. "I suppose Master Yoda's gotten used to seeing people pass out of his life at this point; he's only known about a billion personally." He shook his head, and the digging finger became a flat, still hand on the surface of the butchered grave he'd dug. "But to know one of them died in my place in an explosion meant for me…" Blue eyes meet mine, and he shook his head again. "No one I've ever loved has died in my arms. I think that would—" He swallowed, and he looked so young yet so drained. "That would break me."

For a long while, we sat in a heavy silence. The only sounds were the waves, the birds, and the wind caressing around our dried skin. The sun was settling into its final set.

Unprompted, Anakin suddenly let out a soft snort, and at my questioning look, he gave me a half-hearted smile that didn't reach his eyes. "There's a reason why— what happened out there," he gestured to the waves. Then he looked at me directly, making sure my gaze belonged to him before he spilled his intimate secret. "Don't laugh."

"I won't."

A hesitant nod. "I'm afraid of the water."

My face stayed smooth as I processed this information. While I gazed back at him, I hoped I was giving the same expression he'd given me before— welcome to elaboration, but without the pressure to push for it.

Quicker than I had, Anakin shared the knowledge I later learned he'd never told anyone but his mother. "Maybe it's from growing up in a desert where moisture has to be farmed. Traders coming through Watto's shop talked about these bottomless, endless seas and oceans on other planets. Unfathomable liquid holes in the ground, where most species couldn't breathe without special gear. A place darker than space but without the stars. I heard how ships that fell out of the sky would sink faster than in quicksand." He bit down on his lip and fiddled with some sand grating against his fingers. "I like water— lakes— like this." He gestured up at the undulating field before us. "Especially when they're sealed off from hungry threats. But give me the Dune Sea verses a "real" one any day."

Beyond the fact that he was from Tatooine, this made poetic sense. What would a natural pilot, a walker of the skies, want with the slowing pressure of water?

"So, when I dunked you…"

He nodded. "I just needed a moment to come up and see the sky again. Then I was alright."

Apology creased my face at my part in his discomfort. "I'm sorry, Ani."

He shrugged. "You didn't know. And it's not as if I didn't use it to my advantage once I was fine." A shy smile bewitched my eyes. "Besides, there was a beautiful mermaid in the water who encouraged me to venture out in the first place."

Angels and mermaids, knights and oaths. We really were living in a fantasy of our own creation. To think, only the monsters beneath our feet were real.

Like a familiar tripwire I never failed to heed, our eyes locked. As if waiting for this, the blood ignited in my veins. Warm color rushed to my face, but I was too lost in the moment to let it embarrass me. I felt an unwelcome jolt of release when Anakin's eyes broke away to trace the damp hair around my face; I took the opportunity to dip mine down to the defined lines of his collarbone and upper arm.

I didn't even realize I'd leaned closer into him until I felt the hand in between us— the one previously supporting almost none of my weight in the granular sand— begin to press deeply into the bank.

We caught ourselves at the same time, the two of us sharing one last quick look before we straightened our individual backs. I hugged my arms around my knees and squeezed. As long as I did so, it was easier to sit facing forward, away from Anakin's ample offerings.

There was an awkward pause before either of us spoke, but then he surprised me with the composure and resolution in his voice. "I believe coming here is a chance for you to find some rest. Peace. We don't know how much time we have before we leave. You're not alone, Padmé. But I'll let you be if you want it so."

I turned my head to study him as I soaked in his words. He was giving me my space. Maybe, one might even dare to call it, my ticket to freedom. If I went so far as to tell him to stay on one side of the lake house and let me exist on the other till we left— only to ever find me if there was an emergency— he would do it. I could tell it wouldn't be easy for him, that it's not what he wanted, but he would prioritize my wishes above his own.

I initially tried to think my answer through carefully, but a scream inside me that would've put any underwater shriek to shame immediately, violently yelled No! A primal network connected to my heart, my body, even my soul had already begun attaching itself to him and it did not want separate. This was all the more reason why it should.

Things were quickly getting consuming between Anakin and I, dangerously so. The young man beside me constantly made the hair stand up on the back of my neck in a deliciously addicting warning. It was as if some part of me knew that here was the king of the kind of men who made women need them more than water or air, and if I followed down this path, neither of us would escape intact. This was the pause we needed for one of us to finally, truly reorient the ship and save us from ourselves. I could be that person.

I would like to think, looking back, that I still had the free will to choose at this point. That such a pensive, mature moment on the beach was yet another chance to turn our fate around and steer us to a different course from where we were headed. Who doesn't want to believe they've lived with some semblance of control over their life? I'm not as naive now. In hindsight, I know my fate was already sealed before Anakin and I left Coruscant for Naboo— the very first time.

The texture of my existence was narrowing again. For while I looked at his face in the drowning sun, I clearly saw Anakin and no longer felt the stress, much in the same way the blissful moment underwater had relieved me of the pain and burdens. Maybe with him, the respite would last more than a fractional second. There was a chance for happiness here, even if only in the attempt. If I resigned myself in advance to purposely see it left unfinished, surely, we could get out before any damage was truly done.

And so, I remember sitting on that beach— cloaked in the confidence of my fantasy— and making the conscious choice to not choose my freedom. Not just yet. I wanted to discreetly play along with this game I couldn't give up, fully believing I could still play the 'out' card later.

Fool.

My voice was the most even and calm it had been since I'd sat down and begun my emotional unloading. "You said before that you'd never really had a home; it's always been where your mom is." I halted my words for just a moment, to respect the consequence behind what I was about to say. Captive eyes narrowed as he gave me his full attention. "I want you to think of Varykino as your home for however long we are here."

Two blue oceans, each as deep as the ones Anakin feared as a child, threatened to drown me. I didn't let myself care. "That means a great deal to me."

I inhaled to stop the beach from tilting and spinning in my vision. Staring into Anakin's eyes for too long was giving me vertigo again. "I'll show you as much of the area as I can until we leave."

"I am yours to take wherever you wish."

I smiled. "First, what do you say we practice your freestyle swim again? I think there are still some fish left for you to scare away." We chuckled together, a beautiful blend of timbre and lightness. But when he looked at me hesitantly, I assured, "I'll show you how you can glide through water like you glide a starship through the air."

Anakin stood up before me then and offered his open hand to me. I took it, rising with a smile of my own as he assisted me to standing. We took steps into the lake again.

And Fate let out a laugh. For it knew something I did not.

The holy man was coming to Varykino tomorrow. Because of this, the first of my two suppressing walls were about to truly, resounding fall.