A/N: Some people are going to like this chapter; some might scoff at it. To the detractors, I just ask that you put yourself in Padmé's shoes for a few seconds, remembering the everyday elements of her life, her background, and the stark discrepancy occurring.

Chapter 59. The Holy Man Returns

Then must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely but too well.
— William Shakespeare, Othello (character: Othello)

"We run a test," Anakin said. "Hold on a second." Settling himself cross-legged on the thin mattress of the cell's bunk, he closed his eyes and stretched out to the Force.
And caught his breath. There she was.
Padmé was here.
Not here in the cells, but definitely somewhere close at hand. On this part of the planet at least, maybe even near the factory.
"She's here," he told Thrawn, stretching out to try to pick up every nuance of her mood and emotions. She didn't seem to be a prisoner, but there was a dark grimness to her sense. "Somewhere nearby. Possibly in some trouble— I can't tell whether she's worried or just in the middle of something."
"Can you communicate with her?"
He shook his head and opened his eyes. "Sorry. It doesn't work that way."

— Timothy Zahn, Thrawn Alliances

I moved on autopilot, following Anakin's presence through the humid air as much as I followed the sound of his footsteps— my mental awareness of our environment fogged beyond this. Neither of us had spoken for a few minutes. As for myself, I can only say that my thoughts were resonant enough.

So lost in my own mind was I, I didn't comprehend that we'd reached the grass until a posh voice, loud in greeting, brought my gaze from the hem of my cloak to his waving arm.

"Oh! Welcome back!" The caller shuffled out from the thin shade offered by a chrome wing. Exposure to sunlight emphasized the dings and dents in his covering; Geonosis had added its fair share to what was already a worn exterior. "I have refreshments prepared for you onboard. I say, I've seen more new planets in the past two weeks than I ever cared to. Your home world is the standout by far, Senator! But wiping condensation off my photoreceptors was a new experi— oh. Oh dear."

I'd put an index finger to my closed lips as I walked towards C-3PO, yet my concern was mild. We'd parked the yacht discreetly near the edge of the city. No other ears were present besides mine and Anakin's.

"What the chubba?!" The Maker was more disapproving of his creation's lapse. "Careful there, Threepio. You trying to out her presence to the whole planet?"

I interrupted the immediate onslaught of apology as we passed the droid. "It's alright, Threepio, it's alright. You enjoyed your first steps on Naboo?"

We'd sanctioned him permission to meander around while we were gone, under the condition that he stayed within a hundred-meter radius of the ship. He hadn't pushed back against the restriction. When it came to foreign lands, Threepio's programming was lite on curiosity.

"Oh, yes!" He scurried up the ramp after us. Artoo—the locally-famous astromech who'd been ordered to stay out of sight— was impatiently waiting at the top. "No sand to grind my circuits, no Jawas trying to abduct me, no dizzying traffic between irrationally high sky towers; no sign of forest giants." He threw up his hands with dramatic flair. "And the very best quality of your world— no battle droids with their terrible blaster fire!"

Anakin, who was in the process of helping me out of my cloak now, shot Threepio a crooked grin. "Huh. Good thing I didn't bring you along ten years ago." He placed the satin robe on a wall hook before handing me the box containing my wedding dress. Quickly, he added his own Jedi robe to the rack, then we made haste through the narrow passageways towards the cockpit.

Both droids followed closely behind, one suddenly far more startled than the other. "Ah, what did you say?"

After three lengthy steps, Anakin literally hopped into the pilot's chair like it had been designed specifically to catch his body. It absorbed his momentum and swiveled its passenger around gamely. I was slower in my approach, but I proactively pressed the button to raise the ramp while lowering into my seat. The box carrying our precious cargo came to a rest on my lap. I waited for the indicator that the hull was sealed before notifying, "Ramp is secured. Engines coming online." His eager hands were already going for the steering bar.

"I said, don't you miss living under the Hutts even a little, Threepio?"

"The displeasure was all mine, Master Ani, I assure you."

Anakin made a huffing sound, as if saying You and me both.

The ship began ascending several stories into the air. Miles of green domes, canals, parks, and plazas stretched out in front of us. The clouds which hung above the city when we arrived had moved on. Theed was no stranger to rain or municipal maintenance, but it appeared extra clean and reflective after its fresh bath. Far in the distance, sunbeams blinded the eye off the Royal Palace but shimmered like Arkanian diamonds on the Solleu River.

"Bless my circuits. How wondrous."

"Yup. She's a beauty. All she's missing is a decent podracing course."

"I will never understand the biological impulse to add danger to recreational sport."

"Well, as the leading and sole authority on humans who participate, I can tell you, it's just not the same without it. By the way, speaking of danger— best to stay out of this planet's core."

"Sir?"

Anakin grinned as he plugged in the coordinates. "Ask my master the next time you see him."

"Is there something I should be aware— My goodness, look over there! Oh! Marvelous. Just marvelous. I think I should be quite happy to stay on this planet for my next ten years."

"You're in the Senator's retinue now, Threepio." Anakin's voice was perhaps a bit firmer than it needed to be. He tilted the ship away from the sun, towards the mountains, in the direction of the Lake Country. "Where she goes, you go. I'm counting on you to look after her for me, just as you did all those years for…" His words fell away, but no one listening waited in suspense. We knew well who he was referring to.

"It will always be my pleasure to be of service to the Skywalkers." The man of metal's tone, despite the concrete in Anakin's command, was tender. He spoke like his duty was a sacred privilege. "The original members of the family— and the new."

That was probably the first and only "Welcome to the family" I was ever going to get. I turned over my shoulder to look at him directly. "Thank you, Threepio." Thinking of his anxiety for traveling, which he would have an abundance of as part of my entourage, I promised, "I'll take care of you too."

Untwisting to face forward in my seat, I was stationary only briefly before I leaned to look out the nearest window. My eyes scanned for orange and blue tents on the ground. I'd noticed a fraction of them on the flight in but hadn't realized yet what they were. Now that I knew, and knew to look, I tensed at their scope. There were seas of them along the outskirts of Theed.

Mother of moons… There's far more than what I estimated during our walk.

I kept my sight on the tents until we'd ascended so high that they became indiscernible. Only then did I sink back into my chair. Threepio excused himself, I think to retrieve our beverages. I'm not sure. I barely registered his exit.

So young. We need to bring teachers in to make sure their educations aren't interrupted… any more than they already have been.

"Next stop, Varykino."

I consciously tugged at the corners of my lips. What little of my attention was in the cockpit was uplifted at his pilot's proclamation. But I was mentally occupied, remembering the small children I'd seen standing in a circle near a street. They were taking turns jumping in and out of a puddle, splashing each other in giddy rotation. Adult beings of various species, presumably the younglings' parents, were supervising them.

Lines of stress shrouded their smiles. Some stood with arms crossed over their chest— a casual stance at first glance. It was only with deeper inspection that one saw how they were actually holding their broken selves up.

"Sorry 'bout the seats."

Confused, I glanced at the young man beside me. "What?"

"The seats." He indicated our respective chairs with a jerk of his hand. "I wasn't thinking when I landed the ship. The angle. They're toasted from sitting in the sun."

"Oh," I mumbled. For the first time, I noticed the warmth of the black, padded material running along the back of my body. The dress obstructed most of it. "Hadn't noticed."

My vigil out the window resumed.

At last check, Moenia needed more hygiene packets. Dee'ja Peak needed more seed to handle the increase in demand. Where are we on that now? And on translators?

"They couldn't have been under the sun long, though. It looked like the ship got rain while we were out. At some point."

I recalled again the children vaulting in and out of the puddle.

"Hmm."

One of my first meetings must be with Bibble. His dedication to the situation matches mine. He'll have the latest updates.

Silence ripened except between my ears. After some time, when Ani spoke, his tone was mellow. "Are there more of them than you expected there to be?"

My focus remained beyond the glass. With a nod, I replied softly, "Many more."

A long pause. I continued watching the clouds without really seeing them.

Dee'ja Peak will get all the seed it requires. I'll arrange the imports myself, if I must. But can we harvest the crops in time to meet the need?

My forehead pinched in concern.

We will have to be mindful of how we present any stress on the supply chain.

Self-sacrifice for the good of others is foundational in Nabooian creed, but the ratio of food to mouths is a very sensitive subject for all who lived through the Trade Federation's blockade. Simply the hypothetical of an impacted reserve— however minimal the dent— is capable of triggering painful memories in the populace.

But what those people have gone through just to make it this far. What they must've seen—

"You've been quiet ever since we walked through their camps."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. I gestured over my shoulder. "Not true. I was just speaking with Threepio."

"Padmé…"

I could feel the weight of his stare, even if I didn't meet it. He wasn't wrong.

Adrenaline after fleeing my house had enlivened both of us. How could it not? We'd almost been caught, and I'd tossed myself off a three-story balcony into Anakin's cushioning arms. Like a scene from a romantic holomovie, we'd gripped hands and set off at a near-run, a lover's sprint, which had lasted well beyond the necessary range of my parents' railing.

Under my improvised shortcuts, we'd taken a different path to return to the ship. Rushes of excitement over what came next caused me to be less mindful with my hood. I'd kept it low enough to hide most of my face, but more of the street was visible to me than what I'd permitted upon our arrival. I knew something was off when Theed's metropolis faded but the amount of people around us did not; when sturdy, beige stone morphed into shelters crafted from blue or orange tents, their openings flapping in the breeze; when I heard one, two, ten different languages spoken in succession as we passed— none of them ones I'd heard on the city's streets before.

"I'm alright," I assured, trying to mean it. "It's not as if I wasn't heavily involved in organizing the resettling efforts. We prepared contingencies if more refugees arrived than we could immediately provide housing for. We stockpiled tents. Rations." A small sigh escaped. "I knew this was a possibility."

"Anticipating war refugees and seeing them are two different things. And you didn't think an influx would happen so soon; it pains you to see so many displaced."

I didn't say anything in response right away. We both knew he'd articulated my feelings with truth.

"When you and I stepped off the Jendirian Valley… every evacuee who walked off with us was going to a new roof over their heads. A solid roof, Ani. That certainty existed just three weeks ago."

"Much has changed since then."

The blue box was wide enough to cover my thighs. I ran my hands over its smooth top.

After a long beat, I murmured, "We were never going to supply ammunition or military technology if war broke out. That's not who we are." My spine straightened instinctively. Proudly. "But the Naboo will do our part to help those driven from their homes by the Separatists. That is who we are."

It came out sounding like a statement for a HoloNet camera crew, but I didn't care. My words were as honest as the passion they were delivered with.

Anakin gave a single, profound nod. "There are no better people in the galaxy than the Naboo. Just look at you and the Chancellor— maybe the two most honorable politicians in the Republic's history. Look at Jar Jar. He displayed his bravery and loyalty during the Invasion. And recent achievements prove why one should never underestimate a Gungan."

My mood dipped a little at the final compliment. I still wasn't at ease with Jar Jar moving to give Palpatine increased control, but I was working on it. After all, if it hadn't been Representative Binks who called for the motion, it would've been someone else. It's not as if his oratory skills alone had changed the direction of democracy— the majority of the Senate voted to do that.

Besides, at least the emergency powers are in Sheev Palpatine's hands. The same Nabooian creed I was raised with lives in him. In the lengthy history of aggressive Supreme Chancellors, all this authority could've landed in the guardianship of someone much worse.

We weren't done talking about Jar Jar's qualities. "He's never been anything but kind. Although, his manners—" Ani suddenly threw his head back and erupted into a laugh that had his larynx bobbing. "Do you, do you remember when he stuck his tongue out at my mom's table, and Qui-Gon, he— he—"

"Grabbed it and held it between his fingers?!"

"YES!" Ani acted out the rapid-fire action from the past, abruptly bringing his thumb and index finger together like he was catching a fly— or tongue— between them. His voice dropped two octaves. "'Don't do that again.'" The animated impersonator fell back against his headrest in a sustained chuckle, one which gradually transitioned into a long exhale. He gazed out the center window, lost in lingering awe. "I never forgot that. Stars, Qui-Gon was such a legend."

I watched Anakin for a few moments. Saw the clench and release of his jaw; the way he tried to smile through it. The growing urge to comfort pushed me to my feet soon enough. I stepped down and walked around the center console so I could approach him from behind. I placed my hands on his shoulders and leaned around his right side, planting a kiss to his cheek. The soft Padawan braid caressed the tip of my chin while I held the pose. His left hand came up to squeeze mine.

After, with one more quick kiss to his crown— I couldn't resist, I loved how his hair smelled— I straightened and returned to my seat, having said nothing. Any need to was absent. Just as Anakin was good at guessing my thoughts, I was accustomed to sensing his. The void of Qui-Gon Jinn loomed enormously over his life, and any visit to Theed— no matter the purpose— would likely summon memories of the Jedi Master for a long time to come.

But this was a happy day. Our wedding day. Apart from my bouts of sadness outside and inside my family's house, it had been a happy day. Wanting to continue the humor we'd captured, I teased, "I'm surprised you haven't mentioned something glaringly obvious, Ani."

A jester's smile slid up his face. He wanted a playful turn in conversation too. "And what's that?"

"Under the terms of our bet, I had permission to check the comms once we entered Naboo's orbit. And yet… I still haven't." I studied him with a grin. "Aren't you impressed at my restraint?" Purposely echoing his cockiness in the elevator the other night, I raised my chin. "I'm impressed."

Truthfully, I wasn't impressed with myself for avoiding my duties, so much as I was banking on the expectation that my extended focus on Anakin, and on us— well beyond what he'd asked for— had made him happy.

He smiled back but shook his head. "You never needed my permission, Padmé. You could've checked the comms whenever you wanted to, even on our way to Naboo. That was the whole point."

I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he was suffering from random, short-term memory loss. "No… We faced off in a dejarik match. If you won, we weren't going to pull out of lightspeed to check the comms until we reached Naboo. I didn't like the wager, but I agreed to it, and I honored it when I lost."

He was still shaking his head from side to side. "Mmm, no, no. What you didn't like was that you secretly did like the wager. That's why you forfeited the win under the guise of a loss."

My smile was gone. "You beat me fair and square," I lied.

He leaned in my direction like a cartoon in a children's holoshow. "Did I?" He shot up an eyebrow. I didn't find the smirk attractive at all.

"I'm coming! Oh, my apologies over the delay." Threepio announced his arrival before he'd even turned the corner to enter the cockpit.

Anakin spun in his swivel seat to see the droid enter.

I continued staring at him.

"I am still deciphering the burner plate on this ship. We never had use for one on the homestead. Master Cliegg is like you, Miss Padmé— he likes his caf fresh and piping hot. Most tragically, the first pitcher I prepared in anticipation of your return cooled. Not to worry. This brand new brew should be much more to your preference! Here we are."

I was still staring at Anakin while a silver tray hovered between us. On it were two gray cups emitting a bountiful flow of steam. The aroma was enticing, promising brown liquid swirling luxuriously inside.

"Respectively, each serving of caf has been individually prepared according to instructions on how you best enjoy it."

"Thanks." Anakin, who'd put the ship into autopilot, lifted the closest cup off the tray. He surveyed the roiling steam apprehensively.

"Thank you very much." I took the remaining mug of caf but immediately set it on the nearest level counter. "Will you excuse us, Threepio? We require privacy. You too, Artoo."

My loyal— and until this point, quiet— astromech let out a roll of indignant sounds. He hadn't done anything wrong, and he knew it.

But his taller counterpart lowered the empty tray and heaved as much of an exasperated sigh as his inflexible skin would allow. "Come along, Artoo. It seems they're going to have another one of their human exchanges."

I blushed, momentarily thrown. It wasn't clear which kind of exchange Threepio assumed was about to occur. Our droids were well aware of the passion and intensity between their owners, in all regards.

The cockpit became quiet when the organic beings were left alone. Anakin, settling forward in his seat, avoided my eyes casually— as if I hadn't just tensely dismissed our company. "I think I'm going to let mine cool down for a few minutes, y'know?" He carefully set his cup on the counter to his left. "Don't want to make the same mistake I did with that soup on the freighter. That was like slurping straight out of a volcano."

"What do you mean I 'forfeited the win'?"

He gave me a look that said So we're doing this?

A hefty sigh, and then, "I'm pretty good at dejarik now. Had a masterful teacher. But, Padmé, I can only keep up enough to match you— not beat you. There's a big difference."

Despite the obviousness of trying to distract me with flattery, Anakin's claim didn't ring like a lie. He meant what he'd said. But a larger story was being omitted. "Are you trying to tell me that— as you believe your skill is good, but not good enough— the only way you could've beaten me was if I lost on purpose?"

"Give me a few months. I'll catch up to you." Spoken like a man who found familiarity in being the best at everything.

But that was twice now he hadn't directly answered my question. I leaned towards him. "That doesn't explain why you said I could've checked the comms during our flight— that this was 'the whole point'."

He licked his lips and squinted. "I only put into motion what I knew you wanted."

"When did I say I wanted to offer my Senatorial duties as a bargaining chip?"

He lifted a shoulder. "You didn't say it."

"I thought not. I have been clear, multiple times, that I cannot pick and choose when I get to be a Senator. Anakin, I can't simply forget that the Republic is at war."

"Well… That's not what I felt that night."

Much like hearing a note of music abruptly out of key, even as it's an unfamiliar song, I knew something in what I just heard was… off.

"What do you mean?"

His full lips parted, he inhaled a quick breath, and then answered, "You want to forget about the rest of the galaxy for as long as possible just as much as I do. But you would never give into your feelings openly. You needed… an… off-ramp to do it." He made a diagonal gesture with his hand to illustrate his word choice.

"And you believe you provided this for me?"

"Well," he squinted and blinked. "In a way. I was being honest when I said I wasn't holding back in the first rounds; you're a far better player. Your strategies on the board will outlast me every time. So… in the last game, I focused my movements not on trying to win, but on, ah, placing the fate of the match and the wager in your hands."

"Your Ng'ok was in a perfect place to threaten my Karkath."

"But doing that left it open for the death blow. I knew you would see it, and when I felt your inner conflict begin, I knew you had." He raised his hands briefly before dropping them again into his lap. "I wasn't sure which decision you'd allow yourself to make, but at least it would be your choice."

"My inner conflict?" I was stunned, and I made no effort to hide it. "What exactly did you sense from the other side of the table?"

He fidgeted in his seat excitedly. "Actually, I've been wanting to discuss this with you." Although he was grinning, Anakin squared his shoulders and took on the air of a student called to recite. "As a Jedi, I'm trained to listen to guidance from the Force. It comes in many forms. Sometimes, it's-it's like a helpful hand tugging me in a certain direction. Or away, as it were, if there's danger. Sometimes, it's whispers— not like voices in my head, but just a, ah, a presence. A friend. Sometimes, it's just… a feeling. Any Jedi worth his robes has heightened senses in general, whether that's split-second glimpses into the future— which is, more or less, why we can wield lightsabers, and use them to block blaster fire—"

"—Jedi reflexives," I butt in, glad to contribute to the class.

"Very good." He awarded me with a smile. "Or it can be used to get a read on someone's mood." He became animated. "But this is more than that. I've never built a connection with anyone so quickly and so deeply before." His eyes shone with love. And with eager anticipation. "Imagine how powerful our connection will be after I've had time to hone it. I've only ever experienced something like this with a Jedi— with Obi-Wan." His knees stopped springing. A little more quietly he added, "I didn't even have this strong of a Force feel on my mother."

A wave of agitation hit me. My dig for clarifying details wasn't even close to being satisfied. I swallowed, inexplicably feeling vulnerable in a way I was only beginning to grasp. "You mentioned before that you could see me in my bedroom, before the Kouhons— hear my breathing, see where my hand was under my cheek. This connection, it's only gotten stronger since that first night?"

Anakin blew out air from his loosely closed lips. "It's not even close." He shook his head. "Feeling you through the Force is getting easier every day." His pitch got higher as his fervor grew. "Don't get me wrong, I can't influence your mind— and I would not even if I could, but I can sense your moods now with barely any trying. I've been working my way to jumping the distance anytime we've been apart." His smile faltered while that sentence hung heavily in the air.

The thirty-five hours of separation on Tatooine. The thirty-seven hours on Coruscant before he'd dragged himself to my apartment. Both some of the worst hours of our lives.

"So this… this ability to read my moods— not guess them, know them… you've been able to do this the entire time? Throughout our stay at Varykino?"

Anakin heard the trepidation in my voice. What animation lingered in his body dampened.

"I wasn't doing it all the time. And it's not an exact science, Padmé, but if I chose to, and I concentrated on it…" He sighed. "It's gotten easier, but only lately. I was living in mayhem before. One second I'd be full of hope, the next…" He shot me a disapproving look, as if my variable mind was an exhausting impediment. "You're very rarely ever feeling just one way."

{And now that I'm with you again, I'm in agony.}

My contrasting emotions in the course of falling in love had given myself whiplash. Apparently, Anakin had suffered from my indecisiveness even more than I'd known. "I… I didn't realize…"

He lifted his hands and grabbed the steering bars. "You have one of the purest, most uncomplicated, most beautiful hearts I've ever seen. But that brain is…" he let out an audible puff of air. "Maddening. Believe me, it did not help that I was an emotional debris field over you and could barely get a handle on my own feelings. Sometimes, I wasn't sure if I was picking up on your longing or just wildly projecting my own."

My gaze traveled out the starboard windows. We were moving through mountains now, but not the majestic giants of the Lake Country. A long journey over the Yabu Ocean would happen before then.

{Sometimes, it is best to let go of playing the game, and focus solely on playing your opponent.}

The corset top of my dress felt too tight.

All those moments I'd taken for myself in my bedroom— creating a space of freedom to feel away from the dizzying effect of Anakin's presence. The wild mood swings, so cliché when one is in the process of tumbling into forbidden love, but at least happening with the presumed security that the emotional, chaotic navigation is their own to witness.

"Padmé?"

I swept my tendrils of hair from in front of my shoulders to behind them. Fiddling. "This is a lot to take in. Most people don't find out after the fact that the man they were falling for could read their moods from across a patio."

He gave me a look bordering on patronizing. "Would it have been any better if I'd told you as it was happening?"

I frowned, picturing how that would have gone over at the time. "No."

"I already told you I felt you through the Force before I decided to keep on after Dooku. That didn't seem to bother you."

A health-check to ensure I wasn't seriously hurt or dead seemed a far cry from the abilities he'd been keeping under the radar, innocently or not. "I don't see how the same intentions apply to what happened at the dejarik table."

"When we put obstacles in front of ourselves instead of moving directly at the right path, we are fortunate when the Force provides another hand to clear the brush."

As if I needed another reminder at the moment that I was marrying a Jedi.

I'd never forgotten Anakin was a Jedi pupil ever since he'd stepped back into my life. It was the driving factor in making our entire relationship forbidden. However, now I realized— with the sour taste of regret— I should've remembered our push and pull would not be a regular game of hidden attraction between two people falling in love against the rules.

Heat flushed my cheeks as I remembered the provocative dresses. I'd worried they would give me away before I was ready to admit how I felt. As it turns out, even if I'd sat behind a partition, he still would've read my secrets.

Why did it never cross my mind to remember that, when one is trying to dodge romantic feelings around a determined, Force-sensitive prodigy, perhaps she should anticipate different rules of play?

Resisting the impulse to put my face in my hands, I nevertheless cringed as I recalled the night by the fire. It was no wonder he came on so strongly, nor that he'd looked at me with traitorous betrayal when I'd shot him down.

{If you are suffering as much as I am, please, tell me.}

I'd noted, then, how desperate, even resentful his expression was as he pleaded the request, but I heard it now with new ears— as if the intensity of my feelings were as obvious and visible as my seductive outfit. To him, it seems, they had been. What a duplicitous creature I must've looked like.

Memory suddenly came back of being on my apartment's veranda with Obi-Wan when Anakin emerged in his refugee ensemble. It was the first moment I'd allowed myself to admit he was sexy, and I'd been overwhelmingly grateful that the Jedi Master wasn't capable of reading my thoughts. Wasn't what Anakin had been doing almost the same thing?

We fell into silence. Anakin's fingers pretended to keep him busy while he "checked" different systems on the control screens. Anyone watching would've thought it was an easy quiet between us. It wasn't.

I felt self-conscious and embarrassed; exposed like I never had been before in my life. I experienced something which, in twenty-four years, I had never imagined. I became actively territorial over my own emotions— their privacy; my right for them to be my own to know, even from the man I wanted to share everything else in my life with.

More and more, I ran down the list of my own rights in the situation. My displeasure and defiance grew as the seconds ticked by.

"Padmé?" I looked in his direction. Anakin's fingers were frozen in place over a screen. He was watching me with concerned eyes. "You're very tense."

Because he can see it in my frame, or because he can feel it?

I tried to go as neutrally emotionless as possible. I don't think I succeeded. "You took advantage of my ignorance."

He didn't seem to realize I'd been referring to more than just the dejarik bet.

"But, you agreed with me."

"When?"

"Right here in this cockpit. We said that you putting your wants first doesn't come naturally to you; you're wildly out of practice. So, I… helped you along."

"It sounds like I was manipulated into choosing."

"You know that's not true. I put you in front of a crossroad and gave you the privacy to decide."

Gave me the privacy? It doesn't sound like I had that at all.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I drummed my fingers on the blue box still on my thighs. "I'd like to turn on the comms now."

He licked his bottom lip and winced. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Can't you feel that I am? I reached for my mug of caf. The upward waterfalls of steam had long since stopped. "Dormé should be entering Naboo's atmosphere any moment, and with her ship's arrival comes the official assumption that I'm on the planet. The more conversations I can take care of now, the less likely we are to be bothered at Varykino. Isn't that what we want?"

The young man beside me sighed. My heart, ever the walking library of Anakin, recognized the notes of his exhale, as it had amassed a vast catalog from which to draw knowledge from. I'd hurt him.

Regret for my tone softened my next use of it. "There's also that other comm call I have to make."

Ani nodded, mildly appeased, and reached for the button to access the communication designations himself. His shoulders remained sagged.

"Yes, m'lady."

"I know this will all come as a surprise… I know this comes as a shock to you…"

My dress caught bits of leaves and small twigs on the stone floor. Some slipped under the hem to their doom; I could feel the crunch under my soles as they fractured. I walked— or rather, paced— my twentieth lap around the patio table and dual chairs. My hands pressed the sides of my corset, pushing down past my hips till they ran out of fabric to flatten.

"What I've asked of you must not leave this villa." I dropped my jaw and pulled in a deep breath. The floral air flooded into my expanded chest. "I love him. I love him. I am not forsaking my obligations, nor is he his, but it is time… it is time… to…"

Skittish eyes swept to the lake, again landing immediately on the approaching water speeder. It was close enough now to make out the two men sitting within it. The rider in the stern was younger and fairer, and garbed in a robe I knew the intimate texture of. The face of the other, paler man was curtained by the splits of his maroon head cap. Nerves set my innards on fire. I released the air in my lungs with a whoosh, half-expecting to taste ash.

"I know this will come as a shock, but… we have asked you here to marry us."

From my perch on Varykino's sixth-level balcony, I watched their speed reduce while Anakin steered the craft towards the entrance to the jetty. At the last moment, his chin shot upwards, exposing his masculine throat to the sun; his features centered unequivocally in my direction.

Eyes met across the distance.

Seconds later, the boat sailed behind a row of trees thriving on the third floor, stealing his piercing stare from me.

I could feel my heart thundering under my neck, but a greater feeling of calm was returning. As my thoughts settled, unexpectedly, it wasn't the sound of my own inner voice I heard, nor even Anakin's— but Sabé's.

{The truth is on our side. All you need to do is tell the truth.}

I gathered myself together and turned to leave my marble nest. It had served its purpose.

Vox Montoa had delicious air, but nothing compared to Varykino. I inhaled her scent reverently as I progressed down the villa's side and looked out over the water I loved. Clouds had domination over the sky, yet the fortitude of the sun was mighty. A dozen rays of light cut diagonally through the gray to explode into circular shimmers on the lake's surface. The air was heavy in its basin between the mountains. There would be a storm tonight.

More leaves and twigs crunched under my shoes. I enjoyed the soundtrack. Without her perfectionist groundskeeper to clear the walkways, Varykino had become just a bit more… unrestrained from her polished self. Wild. Free.

By the time I reached the third level, I could hear muffled voices ahead among the delicate melody of birds. The lake spread out to my left, a manicured line of hedges bordered my right, and a smooth walkway led forward. Anakin and Brother Luke rounded the curved path and ascended in my direction.

My gaze, of course, first went to Anakin— addict as I was, and always would be. His eyes drank like they needed the sight of me to cure a starvation. In short time my focus switched to the holy man. We beamed at each other. For a moment, the pressure of the coming conversation retreated; I was simply elated to see a much endeared, long-time family friend.

Arms extended and found their happy captives. He squeezed me with extra effort than normal, and I caught myself wondering if there was a particular reason why.

"It's very good to see you, Padmé."

"And to see you. Welcome."

When we pulled apart, the stares of our trio darted from one face to another.

"I'll leave you two to talk." Anakin met my eye timidly as he bowed, maintaining our gaze until the last achievable second before he turned to go. My eyes and my heart trailed after him.

After watching his departing frame for a beat, I turned to our guest and gestured with my arm in the direction I'd been traveling from. "Shall we walk?"

Brother Luke nodded. "Let's."

We both turned and began a leisurely gait up the path. "May I offer you something to drink?"

"Oh, no need." He gestured haphazardly over his shoulder. "Your protocol droid was kind enough to meet us at the dock. A quick sip of water reset me."

"Thank you for coming on such short notice." I peered at him out of the corner of my eye. "Did Anakin give you any idea why you're here?"

"No-oo." I could hear the smile in Luke's voice without seeing it. He didn't mind the mystery. "But he promised you would explain everything."

And then there was an expectant quality to the air. This was an opening. The curtain was expected to rise.

I swallowed. The final three possible launches ran through my head in a blazing fashion. Suddenly, none of them seemed impeccable enough. I had the feeling of plasma bolts swimming in my stomach.

As if he could sense my nervousness, Luke offered me patience. He lifted a hand towards the ancient cauldrons of rock on our right which housed fragile life. "I've always loved these flowers. I don't think I've seen their breed anywhere else in the Lake Country."

"They were planted by my great-grandfather. He brought them from the Yabu coast as a wedding gift for his wife." I reached out to touch the red petals, picturing the great-grandfather I'd never known outside of holographic albums. Our existences had not overlapped. "They were very precious to her, especially after he passed." My hand dropped to my side as we continued our stroll. A small smile raised the corner of my lips. "When we were little girls, Sola and I would help her water all the pots when we came to visit. We'd scamper after her, dragging our water pitchers around the property." My grin grew. "We ended up using most of our haul to douse each other, of course, instead of serving it to the flowers."

"What are they called?"

"Leiamatóvliën."

"Quite a mouthful, even for Nabooian."

"Especially for two little girls— we simply shortened it to her name. They were her namesake after all." My great-grandmother Leia's playful grin floated in my memory. "I think the family tradition of naming daughters after flowers began with her."

He moved his hands into a clasp behind his back. Our steps advanced together in perfect tandem. "With all due respect to the monarchy and your contribution to it, your great-grandmother was the undisputed queen of this region. No one danced harder or longer at the midnight bonfires. No one put in more hours of service for the village. Did you know she alone transcribed the local legends and myths into a database so they would not be lost?"

"I did."

"Mmm. They were all surviving on orators till then, and not many of them. One generation, maybe two— they would've become forgotten history."

"Sola and I believe she would've liked Anakin."

"Quite an endorsement." He paused for a moment and shifted his shoulders to better face me. "How is dear Paddy?"

"You heard about his fall?"

He nodded grimly. "He was brought to the village medic first. Never heard the man spew so many curse words." A light chuckle. "I think he was more furious at himself— or at that ladder— than in pain. Not to underscore the depth of his injury."

Our paved route opened up to a wide veranda. Suddenly, a flick of movement on our right, through the intricately carved gaps in the balustrade, caught my attention. I casually steered us towards the edge of the terrace. Far below and out in front, Anakin stood on the eastern slip of beach. It was the same patch of sand I'd poured my venting heart out to him on our first day; the one I'd seen an óma willa near when I was a girl. He was in profile only momentarily while he bent to pick up something from the ground. It became easier to guess what that was when he pulled his arm back horizontally before releasing it forward like a spring cut loose. A small splash shot up just a few meters in front of him. Anakin was trying to skip rocks.

He'd been so flawless at the trick on the island. But his artificial arm didn't seem to understand the move yet at all.

"My understanding is that he's staying with his sister in Moenia while he recovers?"

"…Mm-hmm."

Another lull in conversation, where only the sound of the birds was heard. Another opening for me to explain. To tell Brother Luke why we'd asked him to travel to the dock on the other side of the lake in his ceremonial robes, where Anakin would meet him as a taxi. A lull I should use to tell him why he was here.

"Anakin tried to ride a shaak." I blurted it out on impulse, but I began to smile all the same. "He even managed to stand on its back for a few seconds." I leaned forward on the railing, resting my arms on the porous rock. My sight hadn't left the young man on the beach since I'd spotted him.

"Did he?" Luke sounded more pleased at this than I would have expected him to. One of his self-appointed duties in the area was a sort of caretaker for the creatures. He stood by me at the railing but did not lean on it as I did. "What did the shaak do?"

"It bucked him off."

"Ho! No real shock there, is there?" His grandfatherly chuckle rumbled out his chest. "No, the true surprise is, with their frame and those wobbly sticks for legs, it's amazing just how high they're able to kick their back ones. I was never able to stay on longer than three or four seconds."

My brows rose as I turned my head to look at him. "You?"

Remnants of a youth's pride shone in sparkling eyes. "I may not look like it now, but I was a young man once. I crept up on a shaak while it was asleep. It didn't take too kindly to that when it woke up." He winked at me. Then his voice softened with remembered and lasting love. "I did it to impress my Meesha. She was watching."

I sighed and shook my head, shifting it to look at Anakin again. Although it turned out to be a farce, the immense fear that burst through me when he collapsed in the meadow had been too powerful to ever forget. "When exactly did needlessly putting yourself in harm's way become a romantic gesture? And why is it always men who do it?"

"There are just a few, true laws that govern our species, Padmé. One of them states to never underestimate the density inside a young man's head when he's trying to impress a lady."

"Did this enterprise work on Meesha?"

"Climbing onto the shaak itself? No, no, I wouldn't say it did. Meesha was on the shaak's side. But I bruised a few ribs when I landed; she took care of me in the days after while I healed." His eyes drifted out over the water, off to another era of his life. "It was the best foolish idea I ever had. My recovery gave us time to talk and get to know each other better. Meesha and I became inseparable."

My gaze had grown heavier since the moment he mentioned his injury. I traced the tall, magnificent figure on the beach with my eyes. He was making tepid progress with the rocks. "Anakin recently broke his ribs."

"Was this at the battle on Geonosis?"

I looked up at him. "You heard about our involvement?"

"Not about Anakin specifically, no. You, however," he smiled fondly, "are our much-beloved Senator Amidala. We're isolated in this region, but we are not hermits." An aged hand touched my shoulder. His extra squeeze in our hug no longer seemed unprovoked.

Their much-beloved Senator Amidala. The proud advocate for truth and transparency in a political realm where others run from such daylight.

My chin dipped into the hollow at the base of my throat, and I closed my eyes.

Luke lifted his hand. He undoubtedly felt the moment of answers was coming, but his patience continued to give me space until I was ready to speak. Helpful birds filled the silence in the interim while I gathered my wits.

"There's something I must ask you."

He shifted his feet. "I—," his hands opened into the air. "I can't imagine what's made you seek my counsel when you have all the wise advisers of the Queen at your call, and then some, but I will do my very best to help you in any way I can."

"No, forgive me, I misspoke. There is something I must ask of you. But I am terrified just to voice the question." The breeze caught the end of my stunted words, almost stealing them right out of my mouth. "Even if you decline the request, which you have every right to do, I must ask you to forget— forever— that I ever asked in the first place."

He cleared the back of his throat in a low and rough grumble, in the way old men sometimes have to. "My history with your family goes back many years, Padmé. I would hope you know you can always trust me. I've only ever wanted what's best for you since you were a child."

In a very quiet, child-like way I murmured, "I don't feel like a child today."

Ironically, I suddenly remembered something I'd drilled into myself as an Apprentice Legislator. It had been an informative era to watch and observe the great change-makers of Coruscant's domain. When it came to their speeches, they were giants of their craft. The speakers who impressed me the most were always exquisitely composed. Relaxed. There was no fidgeting. Their gestures— when they made them— were clean and deliberate. Most of the time they kept their hands by their sides, their chins inclined upwards in confidence but not in arrogance. I'd emulated this style of presentation for the rest of my professional life.

I took a deep breath. Then I stepped backwards from the terrace railing to stand straight, positioning myself respectfully in front of Brother Luke. My head tilted back to the incline it rested in when I spoke from my Senatorial pod. My hands fell to my side, relaxed. My voice was calm, though I spoke in a quick stream.

"I realize what I'm about to say will come as a shock, but I ask you to keep an open mind. Anakin and I are in love. We have asked you here to marry us. My family does not know we are here, nor do they know we are a couple. With this conversation, you have become the very first and only person who is aware of our true intentions. It must stay that way for the time being. This is paramount. Due to the laws of the Jedi Order forbidding such attachments, and especially given my status as a Senator in this regard, the secrecy of this marriage is of the utmost importance. I am not forsaking my obligations, nor is he his, but we have recognized that it is time to honor love even in the face of duty—"

"Padmé." He held up a palm. "Stop. Please."

My heart dropped into my feet. "But I haven't—"

"No-oo," he commanded, gently but firmly. "Now, I admit, my eyes aren't what they used to be. Are you speaking to me from behind a podium?"

I frowned, confused as to what degree he was being sincere. "No."

"Are we in the Senate Rotunda?"

Now I knew he wasn't insane. "We are not."

"Alright then. May we not do this as if you are my Senator and I am your constituent?"

That took the air out of my lungs. Which was arguably exactly what I needed at the moment. I nodded, humbled but not shamed.

He gestured to the wooden bench a few meters behind where we stood. "Will you sit with me?"

Although I bobbed my head in assent, I shifted my gaze to get one more serving of Anakin. His arm was mid-swing, and then— a series of barely perceptible splashes projected away from him, interrupting the pristine surface of the lake with their hops.

Brother Luke was already seated on the wide bench when I made my way to it. Lowering myself on the other half, I began again. "I know what I'm asking you to do will involve lying to my family, to your Brotherhood, to your government, your Queen—"

"—To my neighbor." My eyebrows shot up in befuddlement. He stared back like he was surprised I didn't understand. "The son of House Palpatine hasn't visited his family's estate much since he became Supreme Chancellor, but he does drop by from time to time. It's not unusual for him to invite me to dine with him. He's very good about asking what is new with the local villages."

{Think of this as a well-deserved vacation. You know, the Lake Country is beautiful this time of year.}

I internally groaned.

Brother Luke shifted in his seat, for the first time looking emotionally uncomfortable. "You're asking me to look the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic— the most powerful man in the galaxy— in the eyes and omit that I married the Senator from his own home world to a Jedi."

With deep shame, the true magnitude of the consequences facing this Pontifex slammed into me. If Luke's involvement was discovered, Palpatine had more than enough influence to expel him from the Azeloo Brotherhood.

My spine straightened. "You're right. It was far, far too much to ask. We should've approached someone anonymously off-world. I'm so sorry to have even put you in the position—"

"Hold on now." A smile moved up his engraved cheeks. He wickedly drew out the moment with suspense while his eyes did all the twinkling. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it."

Lukewarm relief flooded through me, but my joy remained locked behind a sturdy dam. Luke hadn't said he would do it yet. "You must have questions. I'm ready to answer them."

"First," and now his eyes were grave. The many lines in his face multiplied. "Why are you keeping this from your family?"

I looked at him evenly. "If you had a daughter who had never known a serious relationship outside of the one she devoted to her career; who just saw the anti-war movement she'd been leading for over a year come to nothing; who'd almost been assassinated three times just in the last month— during which time she witnessed the murder of close friends, the closest of whom died in her arms— and who swore to you only three weeks ago that the nineteen-year-old Jedi Padawan acting as her bodyguard was just a friend, but he is now her fiancé, but only for a matter of hours until he can become her undisclosed husband as quickly as can be arranged— tell me honestly— how much weight would you give to her news, and what chances would you give to the couple?"

Anakin's rock slapped the water so hard we could hear it from the bench.

Luke's jaw was slack. A thumb and index finger rose to stroke the wayward hair on his chin. He nodded slowly. "I… I can see your point." Across from him, I sighed with tangible validation. Perhaps catching that, he was fast to say, "But will you hear mine?" With my nod, he continued, "If I remember correctly, Padmé, none of your family members had extended courtships."

I could see the argument he was trying to make, but it wasn't the same. "I come from a family of academic romantics. My parents, Sola and Darred— they all met at Theed University. No one was under threat."

"And?"

My shoulders shrugged slightly as I admitted, "Both couples met and were married within a school year." Without trying to invalidate these beautiful relationships I aspired to emulate, I rushed, "My and Anakin's journey is nothing— and everything— like theirs. We've gone through fire together."

As much as I yearned for a quiet, domestic life with him one day, I didn't long for a past where Ani and I had chit chatted over school datatexts and cups of caf before he sweetly walked me to my dorm. We were destined to play roles in larger events. It was part of our individual callings.

"You fear the haste and circumstances of this union might be too much for them to trust in it. That I can understand. But as for fires, any couple who has been together long enough will tell you they've been tested by their own share of flames. Though you think you do, you and Anakin don't have a monopoly on that because you're often finding yourself in life-or-death scenarios."

Respectfully, I fixed him with a look. "My parents met over a library table. One of the first tables Ani and I ever stood next to together quite literally had battle plans on it."

"Padmé…"

I bit down on my bottom lip, stifling emotions that would serve no purpose. Then I gazed at him with a confident smile, like I'd seen a map to the future where everything would be simple. "It's not for forever," I vowed. I'd survived the last two days hanging on to this promise. "Anakin and I discussed it. So long as the war is over, after at least a year of marriage— to add to our credibility in their eyes— we're going to tell them. We'll make a trip to Naboo to tell them in person." I smiled wider as I imagined me and Anakin, sitting in front of my parents as we told the truth about our relationship. There would be shock, but all my mother and father would have to do was see the way Anakin looked at me, and I at him, and all would be assured. "It's going to be wonderful."

"What makes you think they don't already suspect there's something going on between the two of you?"

I ran my fingertips on the wooden arm of the bench. "I was adamant to everyone, in front of Anakin, that he was only my bodyguard and friend. Sola and my mom had suspicions, but I don't believe anything I said amounted to a confession."

Brother Luke studied me for a moment before his eyes flickered to the edge of the terrace, as if Anakin had materialized there. Then his eyes flashed back to mine. He rubbed the bottom of his silver chin again. "When did your family last see you and Anakin together?"

"This past Lunar Day meal, before we came here."

"To Varykino?"

"Yes."

"Where I had breakfast with you the very next morning?"

I looked at him sideways, puzzled as to where he was going with this. "Yes."

"They knew."

I rolled my eyes, much like I had in front of my sister and mother in the kitchen. "I don't think they knew any—"

"Padmé—" He put another hand up in the air, silencing me. "Believe me. They knew. I knew something was transpiring by the end of that breakfast." His eyes dropped. "I felt even more sure by the time we returned from Edum Bloom." Reanimated, he pointed ardently in the direction of the path we'd traveled up. "And if I had any wonder over where you stood now, it was answered with the looks on your faces when he handed me off to you. Your intention is to make this marriage a secret, you say? Do you intend to wear bags over your head when you're in each other's company? Or when simply talking about one another?"

I smiled deliriously, too madly in love to care right now that he was calling out serious holes in our armor. "Do you think it would be enough if we did?"

"Frankly? No."

"I can't help it." I felt a swoon coming on. "He's… oh, he's everything."

Anakin had given new definitions to colors. Shades of blue were measured in relation the range of specks in his orbs. The light to dark brown of branches around Varykino existed in comparison to the tint spectrum of moles dotted on his face, neck, and shoulders. Pink meant the color of his eyes when Anakin hadn't had enough sleep… or it meant the alluring pigment of his lips.

Graphic black was the shade of the hours I'd spent believing he was lost to me.

"Oh my." The Pontifex shook his head at my state, but with humor. "Did you even notice yourself redirecting every topic to him earlier? Your great-grandmother— Anakin. Paddy— Anakin. Bruised ribs— Anakin."

A sound came out of me that sounded a lot like a giggle. I sighed, drunk in happiness. Basking in love was still relatively new to me, and it wasn't an emotion I'd evidently learned to hide behind Amidala's mask. But why, of all days, should I sharpen that skill today?

I twisted at the waist and placed my left arm on top of the back of the bench. Looking at him with an honest effort of seriousness, I held my breath and asked, "Do you like him?"

He spoke his question slowly, carefully moving through a weighted rhythm. "Why do I feel as if you're asking me that as a representative for your mother and father's blessing?"

The breeze blew wisps of hair in front of my eyes, catching their strands on my lashes. I moved them out of the way solemnly. My voice was quiet. "Perhaps, because I am."

His stare was as stern as it was somehow sorry. "I am not your parents, Padmé. I am not a conduit for their blessing— that you must receive from them. As for my own opinion of your groom." He relaxed a little. Seeing it, so did I. "I was charmed by Anakin at your breakfast table. He seemed sincere in his conversation. Entertaining, surely. Complex… There's a lot happening behind those eyes." Brother Luke's smile grew. "But I knew I liked him when he asked me for the lantern. That displayed his heart."

I didn't sigh happily in drunken love this time. Instead, I felt a warm wave bloom in the center of my chest. It traveled through every vein and every muscle, until my body felt so light that it might lose grasp of my even lighter soul. I half-believed I could levitate over the terrace railing and fly to the beach.

"We've covered why it's a secret, and what I think of him. Now. You've asked me to marry the two of you, so tell me. Why do you love him?" His eyes made a high curve. "And don't tell me it's because he's everything."

Planets rotate. Wind moves grass. I love Anakin. All these laws are as simple and foundational as gravity. But Brother Luke wanted more of an answer from me than this.

"It's something I understand better in my heart than I do in my mind." My listener waited. "We're playful. We tease. We laugh. Anakin makes me laugh like no one else can." My listener looked unimpressed.

Of course, Brother Luke wouldn't grasp how significant it was that Ani and I had been able to play and laugh together through some of the most harrowing tragedies of our lives. It went back both three weeks and ten years. When he'd separated from his mother, and I lived in exiled fear for my planet, we were each the lighthouse for the other on a dark sea.

My pitch lowered as I recalled too many funerals, a garage, and tearful confessions. "We've bonded over losses; helped each other through grief. We've fought— furiously. But we're very good at making amends." Warmth pinked my cheeks, but I would not tell him how Anakin's fingers knew my pulse in the way a musician studies an aria. I began to whisper, "We've peeled back sides of ourselves neither of us has ever shared with another soul." My gaze, which had drifted down to my lap, flew up to stare into his. "We fought it. I swear to you on everything I hold dear. We fought it until we… we couldn't." A beautiful face, half in shadow, half in firelight, summoned the attention of my memory. "We are in each other's souls."

The breeze played with my hair, dancing the curls around my cheeks and neck. It brought the sound of words it carried in wistful retention.

{Everything here is soft… and smooth.}

"Hmm."

I waited for the blush of embarrassment to come. It didn't. Expressing my love for Anakin was as easy as breathing. It was only when I couldn't speak it that I truly suffocated.

"Did I explain myself clearly?"

"Yes, and no." My shoulders were about to slump, until he added, "But that tells me your feelings are real, and profound." His smile was scribed by sadness. Despite his natural lightheartedness, one never forgot for long that Brother Luke was a man who'd been widowed. "Trying to describe why you love who you love is like trying to describe why you love living where you live. Or why your favorite color is yellow. Or why one genre of music moves your spirit over another. It feels completely obvious, yet also inexpressible."

Regret infiltrated my tone. "The most difficult period of our relationship was when I tried to deny or ignore and put up space between us. So many people want the power and influence of Amidala in a way that benefits them somehow. Anakin doesn't. He loves who I am when I am just Padmé. Obsessively so."

"Obsessively?"

I didn't hide our intensity. "He can't give me up any more than I can give him up."

It was a simplistic but truthful answer— if perhaps, less poetic than saying Anakin and I were willing hostages to Fate.

"Have you discussed what the pressures a secret marriage might inflict on you both?''

"'Destroy.'" I spoke the world softly. Afraid to be honest, unwilling to lie. "That's how Anakin phrased it." I let out a shaky breath. "There are many things we fear. This is absolute certainty wrapped in nothing but the uncertain on all sides. We know that. We've chosen to hope. That's all I can say."

We will either have each other, or we will collapse inward like dying stars.

"You're right." Luke waited until he had my gaze. "You are not a child anymore." His chest fell with a deep sigh. "Children are more resilient than us adults. Time creates wear and tear on our spirits. Leaning on one another is our greatest remedy… and there is no more sacred a companion than one's spouse. If you believe that young man," he pointed in the direction of the terrace, "is the best partner for you, it is not within my rights or abilities to judge you as wrong."

I reached forward and took his weathered hands in mine. "You'll marry us? Today?"

"Oh, Padmé. You had my blessing the moment it became clear what you wanted to do."

My jaw dropped. I sat back, baffled. Despite my shock, a smile began to creep in. "Then why let me go on so long?"

Luke grinned with mirth. "Who isn't inspired by a good love story?" He shrugged with light ease. "I am no prophet, and I am a self-admitted optimist, but I would like to think if this marriage is ever known by the masses, the fallout will not be as dire as you presume." At my skeptical grimace, he soothed, "This galaxy loves a good love story. It rallies something in our hearts. We are trillions of beings with countless different species, languages, political beliefs, cultures, and customs. Love is the most universal experience we have."

I didn't want to be a banner cry for romantics. That could be an ambition for another woman. I only wanted Anakin and his love. But I captured Luke's hands again and squeezed as tightly as I dared. Tears pushed behind my eyes. "Thank you."

He pulsed my fingers in his, but his eyebrows were pinching into a frown. "Why isn't Anakin here for this conversation? Why did he leave you to plead your joint case alone?"

Now I was the one frowning as I shook my head. "No, it's not like that. We, we had an awkward…" Words failed me. Letting go of his hands, I rose to my feet and walked towards the railing until I saw Anakin's figure on the beach. He was still facing the water, but he'd stopped his prior activity. His hands moved into a clasp behind his back, pining the middle of his brown robe to his sides. "I suspect he wanted to give me time to talk to you about… everything that's on my mind."

Brother Luke didn't respond. Again, his patience was ready.

I rested my lower arms on the railing. The granular texture of it brushed microscopic scrapes into my skin. Varykino had a long history of lovers seeking refuge within her isolation. I wondered if any woman in my family had ever stood in this very spot, alone, pensively watching their beloved on the beach. How many had done so blithely, and how many— like me, now— did so while trying to navigate through an offense caused by the one they loved?

Slowly, Anakin turned to gaze over his right shoulder. We were too distant for me to perceive his eyes in detail, but I knew he was looking directly at me.

The phenomenon which had gone through my body since the day he stepped off the apartment elevator worked its thrill again. But the strength of the surge only reminded me more viscerally that the reaction was not as private as I'd always thought it to be.

My tone was curt. "Anakin enlightened me on something today which I feel I had a right to know. Instead, he kept this important information to himself."

The blond head turned to focus on the water again. Brown fabric of his robe billowed lightly around his lower legs.

When all I could hear was the breeze and the birds around me, I adjusted to look back at Brother Luke. He was hunched over at the waist, his chin propped on a row of knuckles, his features posed in thoughtful review. The maroon ends of the splits from his cap frolicked with the currents of air above his thighs. I could see the plausible theories running through his mind. He seemed to be voicing his best guess when he asked, "He wants you to leave politics behind?"

{That's why the Republic needs you alive. You can do more with these beautiful hands than I could ever do with a swing of my lightsaber.}

{I think the Republic needs you. I'm glad that you chose to serve.}

{You would make an excellent Supreme Chancellor.}

{I don't like the idea that I can ascend in my Jedi career, but our marriage will hinder yours.}

"Far from it. He's incredibly supportive of my public service."

Except when it interferes with our honeymoon.

"Hmm." Luke seemed encouraged to hear this, but the lines in his forehead were deep again all too quickly. "We've spoken many times before about your desire to have children." He hesitated, as if afraid to hear the answer. "Is this… Due to his position as a Jedi, is Anakin unwilling to…?"

I shook my head emphatically. "It couldn't be more the opposite. He's very passionate about being a father. His wishes for a family mirror mine."

Luke sat back against the bench while letting out a mystified exhale. His hands opened into an empty cradle before dropping closed. He wasn't going to guess anymore. It was my turn to speak.

I glanced over my shoulder again at the beach. Even through my longing, feelings of irritation, embarrassment, and resentment returned. "Anakin can sense my moods."

And just like that— hearing myself say the words out loud— I felt like the most foolish person alive.

A Jedi, capable of reading the emotions of another being? Alert the HoloNet.

"Ah, I… see." Brother Luke clearly did not. "But isn't the ability to screen moods what makes the Jedi such capable keepers of the peace?"

Despite my wave of new embarrassment for my idiocy, I did have an argument against that. "I wasn't a Senator mired a situation that required a supernatural mediator. I was a woman chaotically falling in love— with a man who could read my every emotion."

Luke, normally so quick to empathy, looked at a loss for words. "I think most couples would celebrate their partner being able to truly feel their—"

He didn't understand. "I've lost—" Emotion clamped my throat shut. I straightened my back and pushed out the admission. "I've lost the one thing I had left. I've lost my autonomy."

"Your autonomy?"

Elements of my life were so unique that I knew I was about to test the capacity of Luke's empathy. I had no choice but to speak from the heart. "I've been surrounded by handmaidens for more than ten years. They learn how to walk like me, talk like me, be me— but only because they memorize my every mannerism, every quirk and staple that makes me who I am. Every inch of my personality has been studied so it can be mimicked back as if lives depend on it." I pressed my palms together. "It sounds like I regret this aspect of my life. I don't. I don't. Their ability to blend into my footsteps has not only kept me alive, it's made me part of a sisterhood that will last for the rest of our lives." I tensed. "But the ownership and privacy of my emotions was all I had left." My voice teetered on breaking. "It was the only part of my identity that was still mine."

Beyond this, I was Senator Amidala, former Queen. I'd grown into an adult behind a political veneer— when necessary, controlling who saw my feelings and to what degree. I had not just thrived but actually survived behind the stability and safety of that mask. If I was uncomfortable, Amidala mask. If I needed to present control and composure even when I didn't feel it, Amidala mask. When I was afraid, Amidala mask. To hear anyone, even Anakin, celebrate its invisibility struck a very instinctual chord of fright.

"Alright." Brother Luke scratched his chin. "I'm beginning to understand. All individuals in even the most passionate relationships have a desire and a right to privacy. Especially in their own minds."

{Imagine how powerful our connection will be after I've had time to hone it.}

"I am well aware that he is a Jedi. But our one-way Force connection seems to be beyond what even he is used to. And he's been working on making it stronger. All while I was in the dark."

"He told you about all this recently?"

"Not more than two hours ago, on the flight here." I sighed and shook my head. "He was practically jumping with excitement. There was no indication he considered my reaction might be… this."

Luke tried again to argue in Anakin's defense. "My dear, what did I say before? Never underestimate the density inside a young man's head when he's trying to impress a lady. Perhaps this serves as a new example?"

"There are times when I swear, I had a sixth sense about Anakin too, but nothing like the privileges he apparently enjoys in our relationship. The imbalance is startling."

"Personal boundaries must be respected." He moved his hands in a slicing, authoritative motion. "I have no disagreement there. And," he rubbed his hand against the side of his head. I felt pity for him. Brother Luke likely hadn't woken up that day thinking he be asked to perform a wedding ceremony and provide pre-marital counseling all in the same half-hour. "In all my many years, I have never given counsel when one of the partners is a Jedi. This is a first." His lined features shifted into an expression of compassion. "However, isn't it possible, Padmé, that you are still raw from hearing what you already suspected suddenly brought forth into the light?"

I didn't answer his question, instead steamrolling, "He's known every peak and every pitfall I felt. I was living under the false pretense of a veil every person expects to have."

Silence so thick that it drowned out the birds hung in the air. Brother Luke studied me intently for a long time. Finally, in a crusted voice he asked, "Do you want to postpone the ceremony?"

I jerked my spine straight, appalled. "No."

"Are you having any doubts about Anakin's commitment to you?"

"Never."

"Are you having any doubts about your commitment to Anakin?"

At this outlandish suggestion of blasphemy, a new kind of fire lit within. "I can speak nine languages to varying degrees of fluency. There isn't a word in any of their dictionaries that describes how I feel about him. My heart has gone wherever he goes since we were children. Barely a day ago, I was sitting in his arms, lamenting the fact that— whether through words, lips, eyes, or touch— nothing could truly be communicated in any medium to relay how I feel about hi—"

And just like that— hearing myself say the words out loud— I felt like the most foolish person alive.

I saw, with new eyes, the immense scope of our gift. It was all I'd ever wanted since the moment my heart first called out to Anakin.

{See me, Ani. Give me a sign that you see who I am, or even that you suspect these words are coming from me.}

The idea of separation between us was a notion of lunacy. What boundaries did I have left in my heart that I had not forfeited to him already? What did it matter what emotions his abilities could read in me, if all would only ever prove how much I loved him?

There would be a conversation to be had about personal boundaries, but the more I wrangled my runaway thoughts, the more I understood where he was coming from. Or rather, I grasped one of the many portals through which Anakin saw the world. He'd said it himself— to him, the Force was a friend, a guiding voice. It had been with him all his life. It was the same voice that told him we were destined to be together when I walked into Watto's shop, which instantly made it my friend too. He'd claimed he'd only ever felt a connection like ours with other Force-sensitives, and— to a lesser degree than with me— his mother. Of course he would inform me of this like it was the best development of the millennia.

Anakin's relationship with the Force was instilled in the bedrock of who he was. It would've been a concerning sign if he didn't have such a strong bond with the woman he claimed he'd loved since he was a little boy, nor a desire to deepen it as much as possible. And while to a normal person like me this was all very new, and even a little scary, to him— a being to whom the supernatural was normal— our link would be natural and exciting.

"Oh…" I raised a hand in front of my mouth in shock and dismay at how narrow-minded I'd been.

{He's known every peak and every pitfall I felt.}

And he's loved me so ardently through all of it that he's willing to leave his Order for me.

This wouldn't be what it would feel like to be loved by a run-of-the-mill Jedi— were members allowed to do so. This is what it felt like to be loved by Anakin Skywalker.

I turned towards the beach. I focused my stare at the man who told and showed me every day his first devotion was to me and our future family, not to the Order which fought to mold him into who they wanted him to become. The face I yearned to see was already beaming up at me. Now, his back was to the water, and his front was positioned towards my balcony.

The clouds were parting, but we were losing the sun. If I made haste, we'd be able to have the ceremony before the fiery globe vanished behind the mountains. "Brother Luke, can you find your way to Anakin? I need to get ready."

He lifted his hands one last time, as if saying Well, I suppose my work here is done. Then he nodded with a deep smile. "I'd like to have another chat with your groom anyways." He came to a slow stand. Once he was as straight as his back would allow him to be, Luke looked me up and down. "You're taller than you were the last time I saw you."

I felt the urge to laugh. To sing. To cry, and dance, and be wed. "Just a little."

He came to me and kissed me on the forehead, something he had not done since before I became Queen. For a short moment, I allowed myself to pretend that the touch of granted license came from my father. "Where should we wait for you?"

My gaze moved to the west. Even though I couldn't see it through the structure of the villa, I knew where the corner balustrade on the other side of the property was. Then I smiled back at him. "I know the perfect spot."

A/N: Leia: Finally, I can gush about this! The background on incorporating 'Leia' was one of the biggest mind-benders when writing this story. I'd already decided long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, to make Leia Naberrie Padmé's paternal great-grandmother. As far as I can find, the inspiration for the twins' names don't show up anywhere in old or new canon (and at this point, if you know where they do, don't tell me!), so, I came up with a headcanon origin story. Official material gives us the names of Padmé's grandmothers but not beyond. So, fair game.

THEN, upon doing deep-dive research for the "Naberrie chapters" on her family, I found out that in Lucas-canon, Sola and her husband named their daughters after one of each of their respective great-grandmothers. I. Was. Shocked. Suddenly, the likelihood that Padmé followed suit got pretty real. THEN, long after deciding to include the detail that Padme and Sola nicknamed the flowers around the estate "Leias", I found out Ryoo is the name of a Nubian flower at the same time I found out about the great-grandmother connections! It was a fun day, yall.

I hear the "But! But! But!"s. Yes, sadly, the only way all of this works is if Anakin never heard the name of Padmé's beloved relative, or else if he did, it was lost in a sea of details that Vader couldn't or refused to remember years later when face-to-face with the adopted Princess of Alderaan.

On the other hand, I also like to believe that— buried down deep under that suit— Anakin remembered every personal detail Padmé shared with him, especially about a relative she loved so much. For me, in that ROTJ scene— when he poked around in Luke's mind and discovered he had a daughter, too— it was a forehead smacking, heart breaking moment of realization.

Considering this fic doesn't cover every moment of their marriage, I've purposely left either scenario up for reader's decision.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Reviews always appreciated.