A/N: For background references, this story takes place after the final push against the Empire on Coruscant but before the Skywalker family eventually settles on Alderaan. Oh, and if you didn't know, this is the fourth story in a series. So, if you start here, you might be confused.

One

He squeezed her fingers lightly. That small bit of reassuring pressure was enough to ground Padmé and remind her to steady her breathing. She wasn't on her way to face a firing squad after all. She was going to see her mother.

Padmé offered Anakin a wan smile. "Thank you."

When he smiled back at her, she felt even steadier. "You're welcome."

The past month had been filled with intense, nonstop activity, and now that all the noise had finally begun to dissipate, the weight of her new reality was beginning to settle on her. Before now, however, Padmé had spent much of her time careening from one crisis to the next, preoccupied with battle strategies and military strikes. That had afforded her with precious little time to reflect on the profound changes that had taken place in her personal life…namely her husband's miraculous return from the dead. Though it had been literal weeks since Anakin's return, she was still reeling because she hadn't really had any true opportunity to process any of it. Instead, her priorities had been focused primarily on ending the war.

Despite all her meticulous planning and bold strategy, the retaking of Coruscant proved to be a great deal more complicated than Padmé had anticipated. What she had hoped to accomplish in less than a week had taken nearly a month. While there were large swathes of the galaxy that welcomed the radical change that the Rebellion sought to bring, there were many citizens dwelling in the inner core who had grown comfortable profiting from Preet's elitest regime. They cherished their lavish, powerful lifestyles, which had been acquired through the blood and oppression of those they deemed less than.

There was a small portion of that group who had been passive in their actions, their capitulation with Preet's vision more an exercise in self-preservation than greed or a thirst for power. But most of them had gladly sacrificed their humanity to profit from the emperor's oppressive, exclusive regime. As true Imperialists, they wanted to keep the status quo, and they had been willing to bleed for it. By the time it was over, they were able to reclaim Coruscant, but not without more bloodshed.

Thankfully, it was Anakin's decisive aerial battle with Wilhuff Tarkin over Endor that had been the final push needed to officially end the conflict. After eight, grueling years of fighting, death, and sacrifice, the second galactic civil war finally came to an end with the death of its biggest facilitator. When news of his general's demise reached Preet on Coruscant, he had killed himself shortly after.

Following that stunning turn, all remaining Imperials had laid down their weapons in surrender. Any thoughts of resistance that might have entered the minds of the most tenacious loyalists was inevitably snuffed out when they realized that Preet had left them to deal with the consequences of the war crimes he had compelled them to perpetuate. The aftermath had left them leaderless and demoralized.

Ending the war was only the beginning. The galactic government had been left in shambles, not even a shadow of the great Republic it had once been. Recognizing that yet another radical shift in regime was the last thing that the galaxy needed, the rebel council agreed to have Mon Mothma fill the role of empress until the galactic government could be restructured into something that reflected the will of its citizens once more. Her first order of business was to have all Preet sympathizers arrested and detained, her own husband being foremost on that list.

With Mon Mothma spearheading the reshaping of the galactic political system and taking up the heavy mantel for reform, Padmé finally had a moment to focus on herself. It was only then that she truly began to contemplate the weight of Anakin's return and what that would mean for her future…and her children's. There hadn't really been any time to discuss their feelings or expectations, nor had they spent any real time together as a family. Following Luke's daring escapades over Hoth, she and Anakin arranged for him to remain at the rebel base there (to his very vocal disgruntlement) while they split off from one another to make the final push against the Empire.

The past three days had marked the first time since Anakin came back that the four of them had been in the same place simultaneously. But even that moment, with their family finally united and on their way to reunite with her mother and sister, felt oddly surreal to Padmé. These three days had felt more like an adventure, an idealistic honeymoon period where everything felt golden and perfect. Reality had yet to sink in for any of them, and that knowledge left Padmé feeling uneasy.

It wasn't her intent to beg for trouble where there was none. After all, the children were happy. She was happy. Anakin seemed happy too, but something felt off with him, and she couldn't make sense of change at all.

He had yet to truly explain to her where he had been for the past ten years or why he had stayed away for so long. Though the children had been candid in their accounts of the "weird planet" on which they found him and Anakin himself had made vague references to a Force planet and "mentor" who had taught him how to achieve balance within himself, he had not really gone into detail about what he had experienced while he was away. He seemed more inclined to hear about her and the children rather than to talk about himself. To be fair, Padmé hadn't pressed him for more answers either. It was easier to regale him with Luke and Leia's childish misdeeds and recount the sweet milestones he had missed. There was also a part of her that was terrified of what he might say if she pressed him.

The truth was that Anakin was different.

Not in a bad way. He was still very Anakin at his core. Brash. Arrogant. Unfailingly blunt. Intensely passionate about everything that he did. But he was also quieter, more deliberate, and more introspective than she remembered. He seemed wiser now, and much, much older than his chronological thirty-four years. He was also less given to volatile fits of uncontrolled temper and mercurial shifts in his mood. Even the gnawing fear that had grooved itself so deeply into his psyche seemed to have lessened in the past decade.

All of that, of course, was good and positive and welcome, but also decidedly foreign to Padmé as well. At times, he felt like an affable, enigmatic stranger who wore her husband's face. He smiled the same and spoke the same and kissed the same, but the absence of peace that had characterized much of his existence had finally abated. He had discovered that ultimate harmony within himself at last.

And it wasn't that Padmé didn't welcome those changes in him because she had wanted that for him for so long. It had pained her to watch him struggle emotionally. She was grateful that turmoil had been seemingly laid to rest. Furthermore, she was intrigued by the serenity he exuded, even while a small part of her mourned the realization that someone besides her had helped him to achieve it.

Not everything was unfamiliar to her, however. Anakin still did not sleep. But his restlessness didn't strike her as being the result of the haunting nightmares that had plagued him in the past. He was strangely untethered to that age-old emotional unrest as well.

Instead, his insomnia was now a result of his acute, intense attunement with his surrounding environment, almost as if his senses had become sharpened and magnified to an unfathomable degree. Sounds were crisper. Colors were more radiant. Everything was brightened in a way it hadn't been before.

He would remain awake all night, his body fairly humming with the energy that coursed through him. She could feel it surrounding him like a buzzing aura, most especially when they were intimate. Sometimes it felt as if he were inside of her skin, or she was inside his. As thrilling as it had always been between them, she had never experienced anything like that. He called it, "becoming one with the Force." But what left her limp with weariness in the aftermath didn't seem to diminish him at all. If anything, Anakin grew more and more invigorated by the day.

She wanted to believe that his excitability was due merely to his eagerness to make up for lost time with her. Her gut, however, told her that it was something else…that something about him that had fundamentally changed, something she was almost frightened to know. But she didn't ask him about that either and he didn't volunteer. For the time being, they remained locked in a tenuous limbo of unspoken words, a near state of denial. But the need to for answers festered inside Padmé, and the sense of foreboding she felt cast an understandable pall on what should ostensibly be the happiest time of her life.

"Are you nervous?"

Anakin's gently whispered question abruptly snapped Padmé from her brooding reverie. She forced another wobbly smile. "It's been a long time since I've seen her," she murmured, "What if she doesn't recognize me?"

"Impossible," Anakin laughed in reply, "A parent always knows their child, no matter how much time has passed."

He spoke with such conviction that Padmé knew he was drawing from personal experience when he made the statement. But she wasn't sure how much of his parental intuitiveness could be attributed to instinct and how much had to do with his, Luke and Leia's incredible connection to the Force. That was a bond that they shared that she still didn't fully understand. And while she and her mother had certainly grown closer to one another, especially in the years following her father's death, they certainly didn't share a connection that existed on a cosmic level.

They couldn't sense one another across time and space so, Padmé genuinely had no idea how her mother would react to her return…or to Anakin's for that matter. By now, the Naberries had surely heard the rumors about his extraordinary resurrection. But there was a fundamental difference between hearing and seeing. Today would be the first time in many years that her mother had laid eyes on either one of them. The homecoming could be a welcome one…or one full of acrimonious contention.

Jobal Naberrie had suffered a great deal for her connection to the Skywalker name. If she harbored some bitterness over that fact, Padmé would not be surprised. After all, it wasn't until after Luke's birth that her mother began to truly warm up to Anakin. Before then, she had harbored an open resentment towards him. Padmé secretly feared that some of that resentment might still linger.

After everything her mother had endured, including the death of her beloved husband, Padmé couldn't help but wonder if Jobal blamed her for those tragedies…and Anakin. Consequently, she felt a degree of nervous trepidation over the prospect of seeing her mother again. As much as she had longed to return to the verdant landscapes of her homeworld, Padmé was also overcome with dread to be on Naboo again.

It had been Anakin's idea to return to Naboo as soon as they did. Padmé had thought the trip could wait given the precarious state of the galaxy, but he had insisted. He hadn't needed to do much persuading either. Truthfully, Padmé wanted to see her mother again. That had been her greatest desire, beyond seeing Anakin again, since she and Jobal had been forced to separate in the dead of night all those years ago. At the same time, she felt immensely guilty for leaving Mon and the countless others who had stood with her behind to clean up the broken remnants of the galaxy while she, essentially, ran home to her mother. Those certainly weren't the actions of a responsible leader beholden to her people.

"You shouldn't feel guilty," Anakin said, easily reading her thoughts, "You've sacrificed enough for this war. You get to have a life now, Padmé."

She squinted at him in a mixture of amazement and disconcerted exasperation. "How do you do that? First Leia with her perceptions. And now you. It's very disconcerting."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"I think it puts me at a disadvantage," Padmé replied in a quiet tone, "You can read my thoughts, but I can't read yours."

Anakin released a shuddering sigh, detecting the note of mild censure just beneath the surface of her light-hearted retort. He jerked his gaze from hers with a guilty start, turning his attention to Luke and Leia who were happily running ahead of them in their raucous excitement to be reunited with their maternal grandmother. Artoo and Threepio were close on their heels, bickering as they always did in between Threepio admonishing the children for "carrying on like common hooligans." Anakin smiled to himself as their childish laughter echoed back at them over the rolling green hills, carried by the stirring currents of wind that wafted past them.

"I will tell you everything," he promised gruffly after a beat of silence, "Just let them have this moment." He looked at her again, his blue eyes glittering with emotion. "Let us have it. For a little while. Please."

The vague reassurance did little to soothe Padmé's frayed nerves. It was clear indication to her that something was coming…something she wasn't going to like. She stiffened.

"You're not going to leave again, are you, Anakin?" she asked him bluntly.

That question was becoming a constant refrain for Padmé, whether she voiced it out loud or secretly asked it in her heart. It was always with her. Though she tried to prepare herself emotionally for his answer, Padmé also knew that she would lose her composure if it wasn't the one that she wanted to hear.

His response was prompt and vehement. "No! I meant what I said to you. They come first. You come first. Nothing will change that for me, Padmé."

She shivered inwardly at his silent implication. "But you think it might change for me, don't you?"

He shrugged. The action was noncommittal but also filled with resignation. "You don't look at me the same way," he observed, "Don't deny it."

"Not because my feelings have changed. I'm still very in love with you."

He beamed at her, and she marveled over how he could remind her so much of the boy he had been at nineteen right then. "Is that so?"

"That is so. But you are certainly a puzzle, Anakin Skywalker. I am trying to figure you out."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Same, Padmé Skywalker."

She groped between them for his hand and laced her fingers with his. Her disquietude lessened with the gesture, the feel of his hand in hers grounding her yet again. "Whatever it is, we can get through it together, Ani. We always do."

He nodded, his expression serene when he answered, "I know we will."

"Mom! Dad! Can you please move faster?" Luke groaned impatiently from up ahead of them, "I've seen shaaks outpace you two! We'll never get there at this rate!"

"Give them a break, Luke!" Leia called back, an impish smile directed at her parents as she skipped along, "That's just how old people move. I think it's because of their bad knees."

Anakin grimaced his deep vexation over Leia's deliberate effrontery. "Bad knees? I'm sorry, but did she just refer to us as 'old?'"

Padmé cut a wry, sideways glance up at him. "Terribly disrespectful, aren't they? Those are your children, Skywalker."

The journey to her mother's home was an unfamiliar one. Due to Jobal Naberrie's unwillingness to cooperate with the Empire's efforts to locate her daughter, Jobal Naberrie had been briefly imprisoned before having her family estate and wealth confiscated by Imperial decree. Padmé had learned of those unhappy events secondhand, and she'd been devastated by the news. But she hadn't dared to reach out to her mother to offer comfort or aid for fear of worsening her mother's circumstances. Fortunately, Jobal Naberrie had maintained a host of powerful friends and they had generously taken her and her family under their protection in Padmé's absence, secretly providing for them for the duration of the war.

Consequently, the house in which her mother currently resided was not the home that Padmé had grown up in, but the lake country home of a family friend. Their family estate had been lost to an Imperialist long ago. Yet another reason she felt some measure of dread over facing her mother again. Her mother had lost so much on her account. Padmé wouldn't be surprised if Jobal had grown to despise her or, at the very least, resent her.

"She's your mother, Padmé. She doesn't hate you."

Padmé growled under her breath at Anakin's assured conviction. "Would you stop doing that?"

He compressed his lips to keep from smiling over her exasperation with him. "Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"You're right. I'm not. I want to help you."

She tightened her hand around his. "Your presence helps me more than you realize," she whispered, "I'm glad you're home, Ani. Stay with me." Her plea went much deeper than requesting that he remain with her in the here and now, and Padmé suspected that Anakin knew that as well. Which was the reason her heart warmed considerably when he whispered back sweetly, "Always."

When they finally made it beyond the gates of the country estate, Padmé was to announce her presence, but her impudent children had no such reservations. They boldly declared that they had come to see Jobal Naberrie as if they had done so dozens of times in the past. She marveled over their fearlessness while Anakin just shook his head in rueful amusement.

Moments later, a petite brunette who appeared to be a curious mixture of herself, her sister, and her father, appeared at the door. It took Padmé several moments to realize she was looking at Pooja, no longer the impetuous ten-year-old child she had left behind, but a stunning young woman of eighteen now. Because Padmé and Anakin continued to hang back at a fair distance, she didn't immediately take notice of them and, instead, directed Luke and Leia with an aloof, but polite smile that she, no doubt, reserved for uninvited strangers.

"May I help you?"

Leia boldly shouldered her way past her brother before he could make a proper introduction. "Don't you recognize us, cousin?" she demanded.

For an instant, Pooja regarded her with a blank look before her brows suddenly snapped together in astonished recognition. She bounced her widening eyes back and forth between Luke and Leia's grinning faces before raising them to address the group that stood behind them. That was the moment she finally noticed Padmé and Anakin loitering in the shadows. Her pretty features drained of color as she took several, stumbling steps from the threshold.

"Aunt Padmé?" she uttered in quivering disbelief, "Uncle Anakin? Is it really you?"

Padmé nodded, her eyes welling with tears as her niece made her cautious approach. "Hello, Pooja. I've missed you." She opened her arms to the trembling girl, preparing herself for Pooja's enthusiastic embrace. What she wasn't prepared for was Pooja suddenly wailing out a plaintive, "MOTHER, COME RIGHT NOW," before she came flying into her arms with an overjoyed sob.

And that was Padmé's official welcome home.

Within moments, Jobal, Sola and Ryoo came clamoring wildly to the door following Pooja's frantic cries with irritable admonishments about her "undignified yelling" only to be stunned into silence when they found Padmé and Pooja locked in a weeping embrace surrounded by grinning Skywalkers. After finally registering the shock that typically accompanied surprise returns, drastically altered appearances and miraculous returns from the dead, Sola was the first to speak. And, when she did, Padmé was grateful to discover that her older sister remained as irreverent as ever.

"Really, Padmé?" she teased with a teary smile, "Have you lost all sense of etiquette? You couldn't call first?"

The entire family lingered for a long time in the open courtyard after that, laughing and crying and hugging and welcoming one another with grateful kisses before Jobal decided that they were creating too much of a spectacle for the neighbors and ushered them all inside. Once within the protective privacy of her borrowed home, Jobal indulged herself to more kisses and hugs from her youngest grandchildren, marveling over the significant changes that had taken place in them both since she had last seen them. She smiled at Padmé with beaming pride.

"I can see your father in them both," she choked.

"I think so too," Padmé agreed emotionally, "Especially when they smile."

Jobal jerked a nod before she turned her attention to Anakin, who had mostly kept himself on the periphery of their poignant family reunion in an effort not to intrude. "And you," she began somewhat sternly, "You certainly took your sweet time returning home, Anakin Skywalker."

"I can assure you that was not part of the plan, Jobal."

"It never is with you, my son," she murmured affectionately, stepping away from the children to pull him into a grateful embrace, "Welcome back."

Despite their unannounced arrival, Jobal wasted no time making accommodation for her daughter's family, including providing much needed hot, oil baths for Artoo and Threepio. While it was clear that the ensuing years had been difficult for her, plainly evident in the weathered lines etched deeply into her features, there was none of the bitterness that Padmé had feared. By all accounts, her return to Naboo had brought her mother and sister nothing except pure joy.

Most of the evening was spent reminiscing on the past and catching up on events they had missed and stories they'd heard about Padmé and her escapades until it got to be so late into the evening that even Luke and Leia began to droop with exhaustion. After the two youngest Skywalkers nodded off for a third time amid their meandering conversation, Jobal decided that it was finally time for everyone to retire for the night. Luke and Leia were too sleepy to even mount a proper protest, a fact that provoked amused chuckles from their parents and grandmother.

"Thank you for your generosity, Mom, but we don't want to put you out," Padmé told her, "I know you weren't expecting us. We can share one room. We've been living out of our ship these last few days anyway. It won't be a hardship."

"Nonsense!" Jobal replied, "This house is big enough for everyone to have their own space." She turned to her oldest granddaughter. "Ryoo, would you kindly show your cousins to the guest quarters while I take your aunt and uncle to their room?"

Leia hesitated when her cousin started to usher her off. "Wait…but my mom and I always share a room," she protested drowsily, "I should stay with her."

Padmé felt half a dozen pairs of eyes swing in her direction. There it was…the proverbial awkwardness for which she had been unconsciously preparing herself. While Leia's concern seemed innocuous enough, it was a stark reminder to Padmé that she and Anakin were long overdue to have a meaningful discussion with both their children. Their dynamic had changed, but clearly not everyone was fully aligned with that transition yet. That needed to be rectified. In the meantime, however, Padmé did her best to soothe Leia's sleepy consideration with some lighthearted reasoning.

She framed her daughter's face in her hands and favored her with a gentle smile. "I know that we usually bunk together," she whispered, "But this is your chance to have your own room for a change, and that's pretty exciting, don't you think?"

Leia nibbled her lip in pensive consideration, clearly intrigued by the idea but hesitant to agree, nonetheless. "I don't know…" she hedged after a moment, "We've always been together. I like sharing with you, Mom."

"And I like sharing with you too," Padmé agreed, "You're the best roommate ever! But it's good to have your own space sometimes. You're a big girl now. You don't always have to be with me."

"I like being with you," Leia insisted in a stubborn mumble.

"I'm not going anywhere," Padmé reassured her, "I'm right down the corridor if you need me."

Less groggy now, Leia considered her mother's argument with a deepening frown, visibly unenthused by the prospect of sleeping apart from her. Other than the times Padmé had gone away on various missions, they had always been together. The idea of being separated from her mother, especially now when they were under the same roof, felt strange and Leia said as much. She was also aware of how restless and withdrawn her mother could be, especially at night. And though that anxious restlessness had seemingly lessened with her father's return, Leia could sense that underlying agitation still lingered in her mother, nevertheless, and it concerned her.

Her voice quivered with anxious concern when she leaned in closer to whisper covertly, "Won't you get lonely without me?"

"No. I'll be fine," Padmé reassured her, masking her growing mortification behind an overbright smile, "Your father will be with me."

Far from being mollified by her mother's reply, Leia's thoughtful frown deepened further as she darted quick, speculative glances between both her parents, as if she were just beginning to realize something incredibly profound…and she didn't necessarily like it. Padmé watched as her expression gradually shifted from drowsy confusion to something that almost resembled sullen betrayal instead. A spurt of apprehension unfurled in the center of her chest before she resolutely pushed it aside, along with the disquieting thoughts that accompanied it, and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Leia's forehead.

"Go on with Ryoo now. It's late, and you need to sleep," she said, "We'll talk more in the morning."

Padmé had almost convinced herself that she was being foolish about the entire thing, that of course Leia would struggle with the adjustment given how close they had grown over the years, but it didn't have to be a big deal. However, when she and Anakin were finally alone, it became clear that he had picked up on the same disquieting vibe from Leia that she had, and he had been left just as unnerved by their daughter's reaction. It wasn't merely that Leia had seemed taken by surprise, but that she acted almost jealous due to the change.

"What do you think that was about?" Padmé asked him.

"I don't know," he replied, "When I tried to probe her a moment ago, she blocked me."

"What?" Padmé exclaimed in surprise, "She can do that?"

"Yes. But I don't know why. Until recently, she's been extremely open with me." He stared at the sealed door of their guest bedroom. To Padmé, it looked as if he was waging an internal struggle against remaining where he was and seeking out their daughter. His next question dispelled any doubts regarding the trajectory of his thoughts. "Do you think I should talk to her?"

Padmé deftly unbound her hair before dropping down onto the bed to pull off her boots. "Anakin, it's late. Besides, Leia is almost 11 years old. It's long past time she had a space of her own anyway."

"I'm not saying that she shouldn't. But…I know what it feels like to have your whole world shift, and then have no one prepare you for the change," Anakin argued, "I don't want to do that to her."

"You're not going to make it better tonight," Padmé yawned, "It can wait until morning. She'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" he fretted, his eyes lingering on the sealed door.

"Leia's problem is that she is too much like her father," Padmé teased him with a twinkling smile, "She's used to getting her own way."

Anakin regarded her with vulnerable uncertainty. "I don't want to alienate her. Her acceptance means everything to me."

The realization that their daughter had already so effortlessly wrapped him around her finger elicited an amused chuckle from Padmé as she shifted to her feet to finish undressing. She wondered if Leia had any real inkling of just how devoted her father truly was to her. Then again, Leia had always been very good at claiming hearts. She was like her father in that regard too.

"Are you offering to trade places with her tonight then?" Padmé teased.

He watched with avid eyes as she shimmied out of her travel wear and tossed the clothing aside so that she was left adorned with little more than her sheer undergarments and slim, bare legs. His blue eyes were dark with rising desire when he answered, "No."

Padmé favored him with an arch smile over her shoulder before climbing into bed. "I didn't think so." She settled herself between the cool, silk sheets and patted the empty space next to her. "Do you intend to stand over there all night or are you coming to bed?"

Anakin swept her with a heavy-lidded stare. "Are you taking off the rest of it?"

Her smile turned coy as she flipped back the blankets for him in obvious invitation. "I thought you might want to do that yourself."

Later that night, long after he had left her thoroughly exhausted and she had fallen asleep, Padmé rolled over bed and instinctively groped for his warmth only to find his side of the mattress cold. She was instantly jarred awake by the realization that she was alone. Her mind automatically veered back to those terrible years when she had awakened in bed without him, and she braced herself for the crushing grief that would follow with the realization that Anakin was dead, and that she would never hold him in her arms again. Thankfully, that anguish didn't come because she remembered the hour that they had spent making love before she had fallen asleep with his body tucked around her own, and she exhaled a shuddering sigh of relief.

She wasn't dreaming. Anakin was alive. He was there. He was hers again.

Soothed by the remembrance, the tension gradually eased from her body. Padmé relaxed back against her pillow and began to search the interior of the bedroom for him as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. She spotted him near the large window that overlooked the palatial gardens below, the lithe lines of his lean body illuminated in the dappled moonlight. He was shirtless, clad in only his leggings, positioned lotus-style with his palms turned up atop his knees and his features relaxed in peaceful respite.

The sight of him had Padmé shifting upright once more. What shocked her into immobility wasn't the awareness that Anakin was meditating. She had seen him do that, or at least make the attempt, numerous times during their marriage. His determined efforts to achieve transcendence were not new to her. No, what made Padmé sit up and stare and gape at him in speechless amazement had nothing to do with witnessing Anakin in such a rare state of tranquility, although that was shocking enough. Instead, it was the fact that he was currently levitating at least three feet above the ground. That was something new.

Stunned and shaking in astonishment, Padmé uttered his name in a sharp whisper. And, just like that, as soon as she spoke, the extraordinary moment was dispelled. Anakin opened his eyes and glided smoothly to his feet, regarding her with a curious expression. "Did I wake you?"

"No. You didn't wake me," she answered in a slow, deliberate manner.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Since when do you float?"

Anakin barked a self-conscious laugh, his gaze skittering aside as he ducked his head sheepishly. "It's a meditation technique I learned while on Mortis. Many Jedi can do it. It's not uncommon."

"I see," she murmured, "Is that something that your mentor taught you?"

"Yes. One of many things." Something akin to distress flickered across her face and he sighed in chagrin. "Does it bother you? I can go outside if it makes you uncomfortable."

"There's no need to do that." I just wonder what else you can do. Though she thought the words, Padmé didn't dare say them out loud. Partly because she didn't want to sound accusatory and partly because she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. Then again, she supposed it didn't matter if refrained from voicing her feelings aloud. He could likely discern her thoughts whether she verbalized them or not.

"I'll stop if you want," he said softly, confirming her suspicions.

Padmé expelled an impatient huff. "Please do. I would greatly appreciate it."

It was evident to her that he found the request ridiculous and unnecessary because he rolled his eyes with an exasperated snort of his own. "Not one hour ago I was inside of you. We were connected in the most intimate way that two people can be, but I can't be inside of your head now. That seems a little silly, don't you think?"

"Not when I can't be inside yours," she retorted tartly, "I told you. I don't like being at a disadvantage."

"Do you want to change that?" he challenged, "Do you really want to know everything I've seen and done, Padmé? I can show you everything if that's what you're after."

"I want to feel like I still know you, Anakin."

"You do," he insisted fervidly, closing the distance between them to gather her hands into his own, "No one knows me as you do. You know every part of me!"

"I don't only mean physically." She placed her hand against the solid wall of his chest, where his heart thumped steadily beneath her palm. "I want to know what's in here as well."

Anakin gently covered her hand with his own. "You already do. It's yours."

"Then why won't you tell me what happened to you on Mortis?"

"I don't know what happened to me on Mortis."

"But something did. Something changed. You changed."

He glanced away from her with a rough swallow. "Does that make you unhappy?"

Padmé scooted closer to him, her dark eyes softening when she lifted her hand to his cheek and gently coaxed his gaze back to hers. "No, it doesn't make me unhappy at all. I love you, Anakin! But I need to know what it means."

"I haven't figured that part out yet."

"Maybe I can help you do that. Let me try. Talk to me," she urged plaintively, "Even if we don't acknowledge what's happening, it's still there between us."

"I can't talk about it, Padmé. Not with you. Not yet."

"Why not? Are you frightened?"

"For once in my life, no. I'm not frightened…at least not the way you think."

"Then what is it? Why are you so hesitant?"

"Because when I tell you, things will be different for us…and I'm not ready for what we have to change."

The admission, as vague as it was, chilled her down to the marrow. It was confirmation of her greatest fear, the acknowledgment that there would always be a part of her husband that was inaccessible to her. Padmé knew that she should probably push him for answers because ignoring the obvious had never done them any favors in the past, but at that moment she didn't want to insist on transparency. In truth, she didn't want things to change between them any more than he did. She wanted to stay in that moment with him and hold onto it for as long as she could.

Hesitantly then, she nodded her silent consent and drew him back against her. She eagerly responded to his kisses and yielded to his touch, telling herself again and again as she did, "Enjoy this moment. Enjoy him. He's here! He's alive! He's yours!"

And she tried not to think about just how long that would remain true.