Chapter 47. Surrender

...because he's more myself than I am.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same,
and Edgar's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning,
or frost from fire.

— Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Of all the many reasons why I love Anakin, there is one which stands apart— his passion for us was relentless and limitless. He would raze a galaxy in my name just to raise another in its place if he thought it would safeguard our future.

Of all the many reasons why Anakin's love made me nervous, there is one which stands apart— his passion for us was relentless and limitless. He would raze a galaxy in my name just to raise another in its place if he thought it would safeguard our future.

Of all the many reasons why I could never hate Anakin, there's one which haunts us still— he hated himself more than enough for the both of us.

He was my fate. There were no split paths, no forks in the road of my life that would not have eventually led to him. Whatever parallel universes are out there, my fate is intertwined with his in every one. Some outsiders, even ones in my own family, might bemoan and rally against such a destiny. But if loving Anakin restrained me, then all I have to say is this— I've never flown higher than when I was in his cage.

I put the context clues together in record time. Though, as this very realization dawned on me, I resisted the urge to extend a finger out to my right and press the silver button. Doing so would open the sliding door supporting my weight and let me fall backwards into the hallway.

It wasn't that I didn't know this conversation was coming. In truth, I should have initiated it sooner myself. I bore extra responsibility for whatever encouragement stirred in this man before and during yesterday's briefing. Without question, I wanted to avoid neglecting Jurue's emotions any further… but I was still swimming in Anakin's. My body hummed from the encounter in his cabin, and it called manically for his touch. The idea of sneaking back into our cocoon of love after watching the medical attendee leave— lurking around the hallway corner like a teenager trying to sneak into their beau's bedroom— still hadn't escaped my mind. I missed the bottomless well of love I'd born witness to in his eyes. I couldn't stop picturing his bare torso… the V-line that began around his lower abdomen and disappeared beneath the towel. Never, ever would I try to take advantage of an incapacitated Anakin— I knew just lying next to him would be enough to satisfy me until he awoke. And what fun it would be to see the look on his face when he opened his eyes and found me there. Would he scoot over to my side of the bed first, or would his eyes draw me in like a tractor beam until I moved to curl myself around him?

"Amidala?"

I yanked myself out of my daydreaming with a jerk. My running thoughts had left us in an awkward silence, and I darted my attention back to meet Jurue's gaze.

That was two idyllic moments he'd now interrupted.

He was smiling again, nervously.

My own lips were a straight line. "Letting yourself in was not right, Jurue. You know very well that was not blanket permission I granted you when I said my door's pin code."

"You're absolutely right. I apologize." His face took on a shade of red remorse. Repentant hands clasped together in front a moment before he pleaded his case. "It's just— you've suddenly been rather difficult to track down lately. I've struggled to find private time to talk to you— or to find you on the ship at all."

I could recognize the truth in this without feeling shame about it. I'd spent almost the entirety of the first half of our stay on The Credence at Jurue's side behind conference tables. The moment Anakin came on board, however, my priorities had abruptly if secretly changed… but not as drastically as he implied.

"We had lunch in here together just yesterday."

"Yes, I know, I just— the moment didn't feel right to talk to you about… what I would like to talk to you about. I was nervous, and so I kept going on and on about the Desellion Agreement and the courts and—" He dropped his chin and stared at the floor briefly. After a moment, he raised his eyes again and met mine. "You didn't seem very present in the conversation, and our time together ended before I could segue into what I truly wish to talk to you about. We'll both be terribly busy once we reach Coruscant, which is only hours away now, and I'm not sure if I'll have to make appointments through your office just to see you. Waiting for you to return to your stateroom before we disembark, while untoward, felt like the last available resort."

It didn't excuse Jurue from letting himself in, but his explanation spoke of how much this discussion meant to him. I swallowed back regret that I'd let it come to this. Turning away suitors was an arena in which I had experience, but it usually happened rather quickly in the interactions. Jurue had snuck up on me. Not to belittle him, but others had been bolder and more obvious in making their intentions known, which had its benefits in speeding up the moment of my refusal. I was as unpracticed at turning away a subtle suitor— someone who I'd come to know and genuinely care about over the course of year— as I was at handling myself around Anakin— a man I actually wanted to be with.

I took a deep breath. Then I left the safety of the door and its button leading to escape and Deck 16. I walked down the hallway calmly and gestured to the dining table once I'd entered the open space. "Why don't we have a seat?"

Jurue nodded and turned to move with me. As we approached the setting for our talk, I attempted to force thoughts of Anakin out of my mind. Easier said than done. But the man walking beside me was a person I authentically liked and felt a fondness for, however platonic. I tried to center my attention on the here and now, for his sake, instead of lingering on the last, adoring sight I'd had of Anakin asleep on the bed.

He pulled out a chair for me at one end, and I accepted it with a small, grateful smile. Then Jurue walked all the way to the chair on the other end of the long table, a position he had not taken when we'd sat here recently to eat. Given what I'd surmised this conversation was to be about, I was surprised at the formality with which he moved and sat. Maybe I was wrong— maybe this was a professional meeting?

As he settled into his seat, I looked around the silent space. It was too quiet.

"Where's Threepio? And Artoo?"

At this, my beloved astromech rolled in from the doorway leading to my bedroom. His appearance was so sudden, one would've thought he'd been waiting just beyond sight. He whistled a greeting, but my eyes reverted back to Jurue, who clumsily explained, "I— um." He was turning red again. He pointed to a spot over my shoulder in the nearby lounge area. I shifted and looked, finding the gray plated Threepio standing dormant in the corner. The blue and white visuals of lightspeed, passing by us on the other side of the vast window, reflected with all their might on his dull and battered exterior. His photoreceptors, stripped of their yellow illumination, looked eerily barren. "I took the liberty of switching off your protocol droid. I desired some quiet to get my thoughts in order before you arrived, and I didn't know how long I would have before you did. I asked him to leave me to my thoughts, but, um—"

I smiled. "But for all his programming to understand human behavior, Threepio doesn't grasp that need very well."

Jurue nodded, seemingly relieved that I wasn't lambasting him for handling my droid as if it was his own. He didn't know my indignation was in fact present, but buried underneath my expression. He certainly made himself at home during his wait. "And your astromech…" Here, Jurue eyed the silver and blue droid more apprehensively from his chair. Artoo's head swiveled to regard him back, and his white and red lights flickered with urgency, as if in warning. "He, ah, he didn't appreciate my unannounced visit as graciously as your protocol droid did. It took a lot of appeasing before he decided not to shock me with his appendage he's got tucked in there. You have good security soldier. Can be plenty threatening when he wants to be."

Artoo swiveled his head my way, clearly more curious for my verdict than the man's. When Jurue stole another concerned look at the droid that was closer to him than it was to me, I took the opportunity to give Artoo a solid wink and a smile. He beeped receptively.

My face was neutral again by the time Jurue refocused his attention in my direction. He cleared his throat. "Amidala… the moment I found out what had happened on Geonosis, I rushed to get there as quickly as I could. None of the organizations I represent asked me to go— they didn't even know about the battle yet." He looked at me with warm eyes. "I wanted to come."

My presence awkwardly aside, this wasn't surprising to hear. Jurue had always been quick to act; never one to drag his feet when crucial events had transpired. It was a trait I'd always admired about him. "If I'd heard the preliminary reports, I would have done the same." And I would have. Whether on Coruscant or Naboo— even if hiding there with Anakin— I would've boarded a ship from wherever I was to meet up with the new Army of the Republic and the Jedi accompanying them as swiftly as possible.

He shook his head. "No, Amidala. I came because of you. Just you."

"Just because of me?"

"Well, yes. As soon the Chancellor's aide told me what had happened to you— that you had been rescued from a sentenced execution in the Outer Rim—"

I held a hand up. My expression was a folded frown of confusion. "Wait, the Chancellor? The Supreme Chancellor? Palpatine?"

A flicker of excitement lived on Jurue's face. "I know, I was rather shocked when the transmission came in. I didn't even realize he knows who I am. He didn't participate in the comm himself, but he told Sly Moore to relay the information to me."

I leaned forward in my seat as if clarity hovered in a different cloud of air. "You told me you found out because the Queen's office received my head scans."

"Well, no. I said they had received your head scans. They came in as I was heading out the door." A dazed grin spread across his features. "Sly Moore said Chancellor Palpatine had offered me his private starship— the one he houses on Naboo for his retreats— and within minutes, I was out of the palace and flying to you."

I shook my head even as I searched it for logical answers. Palpatine would've been drowning in busywork once news of the outbreak of war came in. It didn't make sense for him to have spared a thought for a lobbyist he'd never met, and much less to send him to my side courtesy of his own ship. "I don't understand why he would do all that."

Jurue's bright expression faded. "Well… I was surprised too, until the explanation became rather obvious."

My voice was a bit too high-pitched to be polite. "Which is?"

He peered at me like I'd said something remarkably dim. "Ahh… well," he blinked in apparent surprise at my lack of comprehension. "I know we've managed to keep the HoloNet from finding out, but it seems even the Supreme Chancellor has heard I've been courting you."

Subtle, dragged out signs too innocuous to concisely shut down Jurue's affections without embarrassing him was one thing. A courtship transparent enough to have reached the ears of the Supreme Chancellor was something else entirely.

I was reliant on the notion that my Amidala mask very rarely failed me— perhaps, too reliant. There was tremendous discomfort in the idea that all this had been far less contained than I'd imagined. Jurue, reading my face, began to look crestfallen. "You're so surprised?"

"Yes," I responded bluntly. "That others are already aware of something I only suspected— and only very recently, at that?"

Jurue broke into a soft smile. "Amidala… the dates to the opera house, the walks through the gardens and zoos on Naboo, the many dinners— all at my suggestion. Were my intentions so poorly on display?"

"I thought these were the tokens of a friendship born from an excellent working relationship."

At this, he laughed, though not unkindly. "I don't kiss my friends on the cheek every time I see them."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head with firmer confidence. I was a former Queen of Naboo— I knew its varied cultures well. "That's the custom from your region."

Jurue had the sense to look rerouted and baffled. "Well, yes, er, that is true." He grimaced. "I can see where a misunderstanding could have— yes, I made a miscalculation there." His brown eyes searched mine more earnestly. "But people from Moenia don't often practice the cheek-kiss greeting on those not from Moenia… especially not young, single men who plant them on the cheeks of beautiful women, unless they want inferences to be made."

I felt an argument in me deflate. In a mumble, I dispassionately uttered, "Oh."

Jurue became more serious as his eyes lingered on me and my subdued continence. "Is… is all this—" he gestured to the high-ceiling space around us, "— misunderstandings here and there aside, is me rushing here really that big of a surprise to you?"

Playing coy now would get us nowhere. He deserved honesty. "No," I admitted quietly. "It's not a complete surprise."

He read my face even more intently now. "So, surely, you must've thought I'd come?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be asking you that. You've had a trying pair of weeks. First, the assassination attempts, leading to Cordé's death— I know how much she meant to you, and please let me say again how very sorry I am." I nodded in reception of his renewed condolence. Cordé's death both felt like it was just yesterday and like it was years ago. "And then you had to go off-planet right as the Military Creation Act was coming to a vote. I know better than most how much time and effort you put into fighting it. Then you've got this moody, brash Padawan— who's the most un-Jedi-like Jedi I've ever heard of— assigned to tag along with you everywhere. Then you somehow end up on Geonosis— you still need to tell me how that came about, by the way— and you narrowly escape death." He shook his head apologetically. "And here I am asking if you've been thinking about me."

I sat there in muted shock. Unexpected moments just kept piling on to one another. His declaration mirrored the venting session I'd delivered to Anakin on the beach our first day at Varykino— only Jurue had picked up on it, understood it, and relayed it accurately (I happily, heartily agreed with Anakin being the most un-Jedi-like Jedi there was) all from a distance. Furthermore, he'd done it all without me having to lay it out for him. I smiled genuinely at the face watching mine. "I think you are the first person to understand what these past weeks have been like without me having to say it."

He smiled, his own much bigger than mine. "I care about you, Amidala." He rested his forearms and folded his hands in front of him. Despite the sincerity of his words, I again felt as if I was sitting at a negotiation table. "Which is what I want to talk to you about."

"Jurue—"

He held up a hand. "Please, let me speak?"

Wary but respectful of his wishes, I obliged with a nod of my head.

"I would like to ask for your hand in marriage."

A confession of feelings I had been expecting. This nearly made me fall out of my chair. I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "What?"

He nodded in understanding at my candid reaction. "I know, I know. It's unexpected. But… is it really? Truly?" He looked at me with surprising casualness for a man trying to secure a proposal. "Amidala, we make such a perfect match."

My heart opened my mouth to counter with all the very many ways we were not. The body still aching for Anakin had disputing arguments much more volatile to hurl at Jurue. But my mind stopped me before I could say anything. Maybe it was his use of my career name. Amidala. Amidala… would agree with him.

Pragmatically, it was an exquisite match. Any arranged marriage could only hope to elevate to such a pairing. We already knew and respected each other. We were both from Naboo. Our moral principles were aligned in more ways than I could list. He understood the political game and knew the sacrifices I'd have to make for it— time away from a personal life; juggling it all with raising a family. And yet, I wouldn't have to hide the emergence of a family with him. Everyone from Chancellor Palpatine to the children of the Lake Country could know and it wouldn't be an issue. It would probably even be celebrated.

It certainly wouldn't mean going up against the Jedi Order. It wouldn't risk my career and my Senator's seat, from which I only served under the pleasure of the Queen and her citizens. It wouldn't drag a young Jedi with a promising future down with me. It would be a life in the light, free from the shadows and the stress of secrecy.

Maybe Jurue saw the academic analyzing occurring behind my eyes. He pushed further, "We've both spoken about having families to come home to one day. I would support whatever you chose on the timing, and I would be as involved as any doting father." He smiled tentatively. "I'm aware that you're a capable woman in no danger of becoming destitute, but you may always count on me to take care of you and any heirs."

The caring in his words was clear, but there was still something so… practical about his entreaty. Slowly, I realized this was the same Jurue I'd seen charm a negotiation table time and time again— sincere in his devotion for the cause, yet a shrewd enough mind to remember he was in a business dealing.

I attempted to search Jurue's eyes with a piercing hunt for truth. "Do you love me?"

I needn't have tried so hard. He lifted his fingers from their calm, neatly folded repose on the table. His voice was nonchalant, as if the matter of my question was an afterthought. "I… well. I admire you very much. I think we make such sense. And we get along so well."

{I love you. Gods, I love you. I always have.}

The husky passion of Anakin's voice echoed in my ears. The desperation with which he'd clung to me, me— his anchor in his every world; him likewise in mine.

And just like that. I knew.

The Force. Fate. Natural Gods. Whatever higher power was at work, I had to give them credit for ingenuity. Here I was, being offered everything I'd turned Anakin down for on a bejeweled platter. All the logical reasons had been laid at my feet— the coming war, his Jedi oaths, my Senatorial obligations, an ancient prophecy, the obstacles in raising a family together. The universe wasn't just giving me a way out of those headaches— it was offering up an established and viable path to an uncomplicated partner who could give me everything I thought I wanted most.

It was absolute joy in the shadows versus a morsel of happiness in the light. The deciding factor was simple, as I realized it had always been. I wouldn't have Anakin… and that outweighed all of it.

I thought back to my words in the cafeteria, when I told Ani our feelings weren't enough. Then I remembered the way my parents looked at each other across their dining room table. Their love for one another was the root cause of my idyllic childhood— all else were supplemental decorations around it. I wanted my children to watch me gaze at their father and see what I witnessed every time I looked at exchanges between Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie. I had to believe that if our children observed how Anakin and I felt about each other, and that they grew and eventually grasped the obstacles we'd taken to be together— even to the detriment of a normal upbringing for them— that that would be enough. That would be everything. Anakin had been right this whole time. Our rare and invaluable love story was the story; it was the true foundation for a home, and any hurdles in our way were just the anecdotes.

This was indeed a negotiation table, but it was not Jurue Batar sitting opposite me. As the long arm of Fate reached across the distance to shake my hand, I met it with peaceful contentment. After all, my terms were simple.

The Force could have its prophecy. I only wanted the man.

In hindsight, it was a clever trick of Fate's dealings in failing to reveal that the two could not be separated. If such a thing can be personified, I'd like to give Fate the benefit of the doubt and believe it squeezed my hand with a sad smile.

Jurue was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

I started talking before I quite knew what I was going to say. My heart was ruling me now, so I willingly spoke from it. "Marriage… marriage is…" But, Gods, I couldn't say these words of the heart out loud. Marriage was so much more than a technicality, a public display, or a hope of design which could be left to matchmakers.

I wanted to cry as I finally saw it how Anakin must have this entire time.

{It just means it's ours, that it's too precious for the masses. It doesn't belong to them.}

It was our sacred statement of commitment. It wasn't rashly done in spite of the odds against us, it would be done because of the odds— proof that nothing would tear us apart. My eyes teared up as I realized the pain I'd caused Anakin by rejecting his proposal so immediately and so resolutely.

I cleared my throat. "Jurue," I started, unable to hide a sniffle. "You're offer has moved me beyond words. Truly."

He smiled, completely unaware of just how truthful my words were. "I can see that." He gestured towards me as a tear streamed down my cheek.

Well, if he leaves here today thinking these tears are for him, so be it.

"But you deserve the truth. I've changed very much in recent weeks. I'm not the person you remember from our last meeting on Naboo."

He shifted in his chair and his smile drooped. "How so?"

"Well… it began with the attack that took Cordé and six others."

I pictured Cordé's casket as she was laid to rest. I felt Anakin's kiss to the back of my head, his arm around me as he led me back to Brother Luke's wagon. How he'd cradled me as I'd cried.

"It continued with the second attempt."

Anakin's blue blade illuminating his face as he stood over my bed, eyes desperately seeking to know I was unhurt. Anakin rushing back from the low levels of Coruscant to make sure I was alright.

{I wanted to get back to you.}

"It progressed during my reclusive time in the Lake Country."

The nervous intensity of our first kiss. Standing with Anakin on the balcony of our veranda, looking up at the stars. Fields of tall grass setting the scene for our picnic. The rain dancing across his skin in the island's clearing. Anakin's broad frame in the doorway of the hut. The telltale magic of the óma willa surrounding us, blessing our union before one of us— just one of us— had known to ask them for it.

"And it only intensified once leaving Naboo. To Geonosis." It felt like a deft omission of Tatooine without strictly lying.

The depressing entry into the dwelling he'd once shared with his mother. Our return to Watto's shop.

{Are you an angel?}

The long night waiting for him at the Lars homestead. A vow on a sandy mattress. The separation in our cells before the execution. Tectonic moments in the cart before being led out to the arena. The birth of a renewed strength to fight, to survive, to live.

"It hasn't stopped changing me. I'm still becoming farther away from who I used to be."

Spirited kisses on his table. Insatiable desire. A proposal so sweet it had stolen my breath after he'd knelt to one knee before me.

{I am yours. Forever.}

{Padmé Naberrie, rhe tuvelyn omné he'lavien?}

I had been treating my love for Ani as a luxury instead of a right that I— as a living, breathing child of the cosmos possessed too. Joining with Anakin Skywalker was not being negligent of my duty, but adhering to a branch of it born from a universe dictating a different set of laws. I, Padmé Amidala, was tired of fighting the cosmic gravity pulling me towards him, and— in the name of this duty— I no longer thought it wise to shun a destiny I felt with every beat of my heart. It had never been enough to give Anakin permission to love me— I had to give myself the permission to accept that love.

I smiled through tears as that irreversible permission flowed through my being. "And I like who I'm becoming."

{You have a fire inside you need to let breathe. I know you do.}

He was my fire. Anakin was the sun god, who on his best day breathed life back into the most crinkled and wilted flower— and on his worst, could burn her to ashes in his arms.

But that was a risk I was willing to take.

Jurue looked at me a long while, gnawing on his bottom lip as he studied me. It was an expression I'd seen countless times before. He often settled into it when he was deep in contemplation, working through something in his mind. At last, he spoke the words I'd only left implied. "And who you've become could no longer share a future with me." A wistful smile crossed his face. He reached across the long table towards my hands, and I stretched forward in my chair to mimic his action. We were too far away to actually touch, but the gesture carried the weight, nevertheless. "I am looking forward to getting to know this new Amidala. As a colleague, and perhaps, as a friend?" He was leaving the door open for me to decide.

So long as it happened in such a fashion that Anakin didn't feel inclined to end Jurue's life, I would be fine with retaining our friendship. It might even need to be something of a necessity on occasion, as I was admitting to myself when I leaned away and answered, "I'm sure we will continue to work together on future legislation. It will be nice to have a friend in the room."

Jurue pushed back his chair and started to rise from the table. Halfway up, however, he paused and put the tips of one hand on the surface. "Might I offer some heartfelt advice— as a friend?"

Feeling light, I grinned and nodded gamely. "Sure."

He rolled his lips into his mouth but couldn't hide his smile. "If I can remove my veil of bias, it was rather obvious that I was courting you. Amidala, I say this as your new friend. If you intend to pursue a love match in the future, you ought to learn to recognize romance when you see it."

I resisted the urge to scoff at him. I'd spent the last two weeks around a man who'd spent ten years loving me, and who had acted in a manner which proved it. I had romance coming out of my ears.

"Thank you for the advice, Jurue. I'll keep it in mind."

He nodded briskly and smiled, as if pleased with himself for bestowing me with great enlightenment. He didn't notice the humorous grin I couldn't keep off my own face as I delighted in my private joke. Pushing in his chair, he inquired, "What will you do now?"

It took 0.2 seconds for me to think about Anakin again. Feeling renewed by this recent gift of decision and faith, it was easy to picture the lifetime of happiness suddenly awaiting us. I was surer than ever that we would have opportunities to express our love, verbally and otherwise, in the future— especially after he was more recovered, and not mere hours out from intensive surgery. As much as I yearned to be near him and be beside him when he awoke, he needed uninterrupted sleep. It had come to him so fleetingly over the past weeks, punctuated by nightmares of his mother— I still found the idea of depriving him of it disheartening.

Besides, such a special occurrence as the physical celebration of our love shouldn't happen while he balanced the fog of medication with the lingering pain in his arm. We deserved better than that.

"In the immediate future? I think I should sleep." As if to emphasis this, I let out an involuntary yawn. The roller coaster of emotions of the day and my choice to abstain from Anakin's bed now had me eager for my own.

"Probably a good idea. We'll be docked in Coruscant in eight hours. There will be plenty to do after our arrival."

I shook my head. Sleep he needed, but Anakin wouldn't be out that long. The sooner I napped, the sooner time would fly by and I'd be telling him I craved to be his wife. Aloud, I only answered, "I can't imagine I'll be out that long."

We said our final goodbyes, and within moments Jurue had made his dignified exit. All things considered, I decided it had gone rather well.

I strolled to the lounge area and observed the lightspeed beams coursing by. Beloved memories of watching such a show with Anakin— whether he was small or tall— at my side drifted through my mind. The droid the small version of Ani had built remained silent and unaware of my inner oasis from his corner spot. My demeanor was light, as the peace of my decision spread throughout my soul— a soul more than capable of sharing itself with Anakin and not just my children, but our children. The chaos had finally calmed. I'd left the wet precipice and the swirling winds for solid ground with the love I'd waited my whole life for.

My feet carried me into my bedroom as if I was walking on a cloud. Bemusedly, another memory smoothly came to me— in the arena, just before I realized the Jedi had arrived to save the day. I'd been so fully committed to joining my fate with Anakin's. It seems strange, even ridiculous to me now that I'd accepted such a deep commitment when facing death but fought it in the face of life. Truth and hope were my religion; I had been committing the highest, most profane abuse of blasphemy. No more.

A sense of liberation, ethereal happiness, and the embrace of the sensual awakening in my body from Anakin's touch motivated me to disrobe down to my bare body. The matter of Jurue was settled. No one would be knocking to deliver reports which couldn't reach us in hyperspace. If it mattered, Threepio's eyes were as shut down as the rest of him, and Artoo couldn't care less about seeing my feminine shape. There were no invasive cameras, no handmaidens, no captains of security, nor anyone else to barge into my room. I was one nap away from a reunion with Anakin, and then our solace on The Credence would belong to us, together, while we figured out the next steps before we docked in Coruscant.

As I walked towards my bed, I stretched my freed body taunt, raising my arms into the air above me and extending my legs and feet till I stood on my tip toes. I found out the hard way this was a little too ambitious for the deepest injuries in my still-healing back. My cuts from the nexu hadn't bothered me in days, not even during the more active exchanges with Anakin. But then, Anakin's hands had spent more time either on my rear, in my hair, along my side, or holding my hand than on my cuts. The daring stretch had just informed me, with a resulting sudden gasp of air, that I still had healing to do. The extension hadn't been near enough to tear skin, but the muscles underneath still reverberated with indignant pain at my inconsiderate action.

I walked to my bedside table where I'd set the prescribed medicinal bottles. I popped two bacta pills into my mouth and nestled under the bedsheet. It felt like silk all up and down my naked form. I closed my eyes and smiled, impossibly blissful. So many of the problems I'd brought up to Anakin after his proposal were still there— hanging in the shadows of my happiness— but I gave myself uncharacteristic grace to ignore them. Just for a little while. I couldn't remember the last time, if ever, that I'd basked like this, and I couldn't wait to share in it with the man I loved. My lips drawing further up, I pictured him and I both asleep in our respective beds. I wanted to imagine we would meet on some mystical, dreamland plane. With these happy pretendings, I quickly drifted off to a deep sleep.

"We know you can hear us!"

I looked down at the small, bright blond figure at my side as we moved through the grass. He looked younger this time— maybe six or seven years in age. On a silver chain around his neck hung a small pendant of bone. It's design matched the carvings on a Japor amulet once lovingly given as a gift. Whether it was the same snippet, or a newly created one for our child's good fortune, I couldn't yet be sure.

This time, I squeezed his hand in serene recognition. I felt the warmth of the sphere in the sky on the crown of our heads, but the true sun was in front on the cusp of the waterfall pool. He stood with his back to us, but his light was no less hindered. The coils of his hair shone under the efforts of the imposter above.

"Annnnakinnnn!" I called, a giggle shaking my shoulders. My dress was golden again, and its skirt brushed against the tall grass as we moved towards our target. Our home. "We're right here!"

He began to turn over his right shoulder. That dazzling smile ruptured my lips into a grin similar to the way a pair of lovers can rupture institutions.

Anakin's arms opened wide as he moved to collect us both in his sanctuary. A second after the boy cooed, "Father!" the image went black.

I would be followed over subsequent years by the dream of me and our son in the meadow, walking towards Anakin. Sometimes, the dream seemed prompted by waking thoughts sprung during the prior day. At other times, it caught me by surprise on a random night.

Although I'd long gotten over that very first shock, it was as if the initial sequence of the dream had already burned its everlasting mark. It never continued beyond that first footstep after Anakin turned; never permitted me to witness the eager father pick up his son in an embrace.

Repetition of this dream was no doubt a primary reason why I told Ani I believed our child to be a boy. Perhaps, I was simply more than ready to see the rest of the scene finally play out— to watch the best part come to actual life. Anakin, beaming, reaching down to hug our child.

Nightmares do not haunt me. They have no sway to disrupt my sanity's pendulum. It's the lingering echoes of the happy dreams that shred me without mercy.

There was one aspect my nocturnal illusion got prophetically right— Anakin was a sun in and of himself. He burned himself alive.

Something was wrong.

My eyes snapped open. There was nothing immediately around me that indicated anything was amiss. My room was just the way I'd had it when I'd gotten under the sheets.

But something was very, very wrong.

I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, putting my bare feet on the cold floor. I could no longer feel the barely, barely perceptible vibration one always discerns even on the smoothest of starships. The engines were off. We were docked in Coruscant.

Yet this didn't explain my foreboding unease, which was only growing since I'd realized the status of the ship.

I rose and hurried into my clothes. I scrambled to find my data pad, finally locating it on the bathroom counter. There were numerous messages from colleagues welcoming me back— even one from the Supreme Chancellor. Dormé had hailed the most. Her repeated messages asking where and when to meet me had grown less professional and more annoyed with every subsequent communication.

I shot off a quick reply to her, apologizing and explaining I had just woken up and would send her more thorough details imminently. Looking at the time the messages had started coming in, it became apparent we weren't just docked on the capital planet— we'd been sitting in port for close to two hours. I rushed into the adjoining room. My eyes blinked weakly, as they were met with something they hadn't experienced since Dooku's hangar almost a week ago— natural daylight. Before I'd even adjusted to the brightness, I quickened to the large window it streamed in from. Sure enough, dock workers were already unloading cargo from the cruiser. The looks on their faces as they watched the strange clone troopers assisting them would have been comical if I wasn't still so assailed by the reality of my awakenings.

How in the moons of Naboo did I sleep for so long?

And, more importantly, why hadn't Anakin come to collect me?

I hastened to my bedside table to look at the medicinal bottle again.

Oh, no.

Despite all my diligence in administering Anakin's pain medication to him, in my ignorant bliss, I myself had taken two of the extra strength sleeping pills by mistake.

This still wasn't a sufficient explanation. Had Anakin come by, found me deep asleep, and departed without my knowing? He'd lifted a locked gate into the Geonosis factory. My cabin door would've stood little to no chance if he'd wanted in.

There was only way to be sure. I hurried to the built-in security screen by the entry door. With its camera stationed in the corner above the door in the hallway, it kept a video record of anyone who had entered or left. I brought up the last recorded event. The timestamp on the log indicated a suspiciously lengthy amount of time. I tapped the screen to play the recording, my eyes scanning the screen for any possible detail, yet truly only holding out anticipation for the appearance of one young, tall figure with a Padawan braid.

After a few uneventful seconds, I watched as Jurue emerged from the cabin door. The video's timestamp aligned with my best guess of when he'd walked out, so no surprise there. He paused briefly as the door slid closed behind him before gathering himself and walking away, heading left down the corridor.

However, the log's event continued. I kept my eyes on the screen… until my breath caught in my throat.

Anakin stalked into view of the camera, emerging from the same direction Jurue had departed in not a minute before. The hallways around my stateroom were too limited— there was no way they wouldn't have passed each other. Anakin would have seen Jurue coming from my quarters as he'd been making his way to them.

How was he even awake? He was practically comatose when I'd left him not twenty minutes before this! Unless…

Unless he'd woken up more than I'd expected him to when the medic came to check on him. He would've remembered what we'd been doing when he passed out. Then he'd gotten himself up out of bed to come to me, because when Anakin wanted to be near me, nothing could stop him.

I watched in rising panic as I saw the young Jedi come upon my door. He stood in front of it for several minutes. I urgently waited in vain for him to lift a hand and raise the door, as if I was watching it all unfold in real time or could change the past. Occasionally, he swayed on his feet dangerously. He'd still been under the effects of the pain meds. Yet after an eternity of focused stillness, when I seriously began to think he might've been able to see through my very door, he began to lift his head with obvious purpose. Slowly, his eyes rose until he gazed into the very camera lens which captured what I was watching. He held his locked stare on the device above him, and I forgot again that this had already happened ten hours ago. The rawness of his dark glare felt as real if he was staring me down from just outside the door that very moment.

{I wonder, if I were to pass by your cabin, if I could picture you lying there in your bed.}

After a long, tense minute, Anakin's shoulders sunk, and he dropped his head. My heart cried out as I watched him go, morosely steering himself away from my cabin and out of view from the camera.

There were no more timestamps of events, but I triple checked anyways— knowing it was fruitless.

He knew. Even medicated, the Chosen One knew I was lying in my bed. If his powers or his connection to me was as perceptive as he'd claimed it to be, maybe he even knew I was only clothed in glorious bliss— mere minutes after he'd seen Jurue leaving my quarters.

There was no one to hear me as I whispered, "Oh no, Anakin, no."

Gudarra!

Coming next... ACT VII: CORUSCANT

A/N: Happy 21st anniversary to Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones! Abundant thanks for any and all reviews.