If there was one thing Obi-Wan knew, it was that he knew Anakin Skywalker better than anyone. Better, even, than Senator Amidala. No matter what relationship existed between Anakin and Padmè (and Obi-Wan had his suspicions about how far things had gone), it was Obi-Wan, not Padmè, who had raised Anakin from a boy and guided him through his difficult pre-teen years and downright nightmarish teen years. It was Obi-Wan who had spent nine out of ten of his waking hours attached at the hip to the man, including experiencing nearly three years on the front lines of war together.
On the other hand, if there was one thing Obi-Wan knew about Anakin Skywalker, it was that in many ways he didn't know Anakin at all. There were plenty of things he knew about Anakin but simply could not wrap his mind around, such as Anakin's ability to know everything there was to know about the Jedi Code but still fail to grasp the point. Obi-Wan could live with those quirks. Or at least work around them. What he was struggling mightily to live with were the things that he simply didn't know or understand about Anakin at all, like what had happened between Anakin taking Senator Amidala to Naboo and coming to rescue him on Geonosis that had so utterly changed his Padawan, or what exactly was going on between him and the senator…
Or why Anakin felt like he couldn't talk to Obi-Wan about these things.
It was this frustrating dichotomy that often led Obi-Wan to make plans or say things that seemed like a good idea at the time, only to later ask himself, For Force's sake, Kenobi, have you ever even met Anakin?
Like the Hardeen fiasco. Obi-Wan wasn't sure that he would do anything differently if he had to go back and do it all again—after all, the mission's success had depended on Anakin's grief being real, and the mission had to come first for the Jedi. However, he honestly had no idea what had ever made him think that Anakin would follow the Council's direct orders not to go after Obi-Wan's murderer. Of course he was going to defy their orders and go after Hardeen.
Had Obi-Wan or the rest of the Council ever even met Anakin Skywalker before making their plans?
Worse than that was the fact that he had been entirely delusional to think that, after the truth came out, Anakin would see the necessity and wisdom behind what they had done and just let it go. Of course Anakin was absolutely not going to get over it in any way, shape, or form. Obi-Wan had felt Anakin getting ever further away from him for months now following his fake murder. He only spoke to Obi-Wan voluntarily about strictly professional matters, and if Obi-Wan tried to engage him in any other conversation Anakin either kept his responses superficial or lobbed emotional bombs that Obi-Wan had no way to deflect before Anakin skittered off again behind his professional mask.
Probably no one else would notice their decreased efficiency on joint missions, but Obi-Wan certainly noticed. They were no longer fighting together like two halves of a perfectly oiled machine. No, it was crystal clear to him that Anakin no longer fully trusted him to have his back. That his former Padawan and best friend and the closest thing to a brother he had ever had honestly thought that if he had a choice between the success of a mission and letting Anakin die, he would let Anakin die.
Obi-Wan honestly couldn't even blame him for thinking that, given that Obi-Wan himself knew that is exactly what he ought to say he'd do. But he had thought it was pretty clear that he'd save Anakin every time. That he cared more than he ought. Apparently that was not clear to Anakin, and it was his own fault that it wasn't.
Then there had been the whole Ahsoka situation.
If he didn't know any better, Obi-Wan would think that the last three or four months of the war had been uniquely designed to tear Anakin and him apart.
Hell, Obi-Wan hadn't seen Anakin's smile reach his eyes in months, much less heard him laugh. And above all other things, that was the one that most made Obi-Wan doubt whether he could make the same choices again if called upon to do so.
On the subject of both knowing and not knowing Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan was both surprised and not surprised at all that the situation with Anakin, Senator Amidala, and Rush Clovis had devolved so spectacularly. He was not surprised that Anakin had reacted in such a way that the senator had told him to leave (not that Obi-Wan knew exactly what had happened, but his imagination was disturbingly active). However, he was honestly shocked that Anakin had been the one to cut off communication with her.
Of course, it wasn't like he could have given Padmè Anakin's new comlink address even if he had wanted to, since Anakin hadn't given it to him either. That was another thing he was both surprised and not surprised by—Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure whether Anakin had deliberately chosen not to give him his new comlink or if he had just forgotten, but either way did not bode well for the strength of their relationship.
Now, on his way to sit by Padmè's sickbed, Obi-wan could only hope that Anakin would not regret the consequences of his own choices to cut off communication with the senator and to leave for Arkanis. Not that anyone could say with any certainty that Anakin could have spared Padmè any pain or injury if she had been able to speak with him and prevent him from going to Arkanis, or if he had been able to go to Scipio to save her himself…. But Anakin's mind would undoubtedly be consumed by the thought of what he could have done to help her had he known, and that would lead to crushing guilt and anger at himself.
He knew Anakin well enough to predict that much.
Thank the Force the senator had survived. If she had died… Well, it was bad enough contemplating what Anakin was going to do when he learned of her injuries. Obi-Wan didn't even want to think about what Anakin would have done had she died.
Senator Amidala was lying in bed staring out the transparisteel window when he let himself into her quarters. If not for the loose braid of dark hair framing her face, he thought her pale skin might have blended right into the pillows she was reclining against. The bacta patch that covered her cheek and neck and disappeared underneath the neckline of her borrowed shirt only highlighted the pallor of her skin.
Although she was on a military ship and normal medical privacy laws did not technically apply, the 212's clone medical trooper had not given Obi-Wan a full accounting of Padmè's injuries and Obi-Wan had not asked for one. He knew, because he had been the one to find her, that the platform she was on had been hit with an explosive and had collapsed, and that she had only escaped sliding off the edge and falling to her death like Clovis had because she had been flung into a wall by the blast and subsequently her arm had been trapped underneath the debris. Her arm and hand had been severely crushed. The trooper medic had told him that they needed to get her to a surgeon as soon as possible to ensure that she retained use of the hand. She had first to third degree burns on various parts of her body due to the fire resulting from the explosion, and, if the blood he had seen on her dress as he carried her to the ship was any indication, she may have internal injuries as well, although the clone trooper had not given him any specifics.
"Senator Amidala," he greeted softly, both unsure of his reception and unwilling to upset her, "I hope that you find these accommodations more comfortable than the medical bay."
She did not respond immediately, and Obi-Wan might have thought that she was still in shock if not for the fact that she had reportedly been quite reactive and even demanding towards his clone medic not too long ago. If given his choice of patient to deal with, he wasn't sure whether he preferred her icy silences or Anakin's furious tirades.
When she did speak, she did not look away from the stars outside her window, and the tone of her voice very much reminded him of the controlled monotone she had used as queen.
"General Kenobi, I presume that you have informed General Skywalker of my condition?"
"No, I haven't spoken to Anakin in days." Obi-Wan could easily guess why she was asking. With a kind smile (not that she was looking at him), he informed her, "He is on a mission in the Outer Rim. He wasn't even on Coruscant when you called for help, and I haven't told anyone what happened on Scipio yet."
The tension in her body visibly lessened upon hearing that, and he thought that he must have guessed correctly. The senator must have been worried that Anakin had known she was in danger but had refused to come save her, or that Obi-Wan had told him about her injuries and he had not cared enough to call her.
For the first time, Padmè turned to look at him. Her eyes, normally so bright and full of life, were dull and swollen from tears and clearly showed her exhaustion. "Obi-Wan… General Kenobi… You mustn't tell him. He cannot find out from anyone but me."
Obi-Wan's eyebrows creased in confusion. "I hardly think that we can hide your involvement or your injuries from the public, unless you plan to go into hiding until Anakin is back on Coruscant. And you have to know that Anakin's reaction will only get worse if he thinks we were trying to hide things from him."
"Please, Obi-Wan! He can't find out this way!"
She made a movement as if to grab for Obi-Wan's arm or maybe the front of his robes, but almost as soon as she made the attempt she cried out and slumped sideways. In her haste she must have forgotten about her broken arm. Obi-Wan lurched forward to catch her before she could fall fully over. He lifted her back into her semi-seated position and gingerly placed her bandaged hand and forearm back onto the pillow it had been propped on next to her.
She continued to sob and plead with him throughout these proceedings. He was wondering why she was so worried about Anakin finding out about her injuries and, moreover, what he could possibly say to comfort her when he caught a certain word amidst her babbling that made him momentarily stop breathing. Obi-Wan stared at her tear-streaked face in stupefied horror for he didn't even know how long, until he finally regained his senses.
He took a bracing breath. "Baby?"
If it were possible, her tears seemed to begin anew. "Please, Obi-Wan. Please don't tell Anakin about the baby!"
"I… Senator… Padmè…" He opened his mouth to continue but found that he couldn't think of what to say.
"It isn't your place!" she insisted fiercely, having clearly taken his inability to speak intelligently as an indication that he planned to call Anakin at the first opportunity and give him all the details. Her sunken eyes burned with fury. "I don't care how close you are! The only person he should hear it from is me!"
"Are you saying that you are pregnant? With Anakin's baby?"
She stared at him with just as much wide-eyed astonishment as he was looking at her.
"You, you didn't know?" asked Padmè, her voice rising at least an octave between the beginning of the question and the end.
"No, I—" Obi-Wan swallowed down the bile that was burning its way up his throat. "I don't make a habit of violating the medical privacy of guests on my ship."
"Oh," she said weakly. In fact, he would go so far as to call her voice meek, even though that was a description he had never once imagined associating with the formidable senator and former queen. "I, I was. Probably about six weeks along, according to the medical droid. I didn't know."
Her face crumpled into a perfect picture of agony for several moments, then she seemed to pull herself back together through sheer force of will.
"When is Anakin coming back?" she demanded, leaving absolutely no room for Obi-Wan to argue against her wishes. "And don't you dare say that you can't tell me, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
If only it were that easy. Obi-Wan had no desire to deny a grieving woman information about the father of the child she had just miscarried... and also he knew that if Anakin ever found out he had tried to do such a thing his former Padawan would, almost certainly literally, kill him. The problem was that he didn't know when Anakin would be back and had no way of contacting him without asking Mace Windu for the com frequency of the ship he had lent Anakin for his mission.
From the look on her face he thought Padmè might have a go at him herself once he told her as much.
Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wondered what evils he had possibly committed again Master Jinn to have deserved such an impossible Padawan who put him into these sorts of situations.
It would be fair to say that Anakin's misery had increased tenfold since he had first arrived on Arkanis and that it showed no signs of improving any time soon.
Things had gone reasonably well the first day, after he had apparently passed whatever test the empress had set for him. He had left Princess Cailee under the protection of her grandmother's royal guard and spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the palace making sure he had located all of the listening devices and just generally getting a lay of the land. He had found bugs in a surprising number of rooms that, collectively, should not have been accessible to any one person. Of course, no locked door could keep him out when all it took was a little bit of concentration in the Force to figure out how to unravel the lock, but based on his chats with palace security there just wasn't any other person who should have been able to access all of those rooms, except for the empress and the princess themselves.
So he was already in a bad mood, given that his potential suspect list had gone from "everyone in the palace" to "who the hell knows how many people are involved," when he had been shown to his room on the other side of the palace from his charge. He had immediately realized that his idea of protecting the princess and their idea of him protecting the princess were not even in the same bolo-ball pitch.
Maybe Obi-Wan or Master Windu would have told him he should, but he had absolutely no qualms about pounding on the princess's door well after she had retired for the night. She had opened the gold-leafed door herself wearing a fancy dressing gown tied haphazardly around an even more elaborate nightgown, all of her servants apparently having already been dismissed for the night.
"Knight Skywalker!" she had exclaimed, her bright blue eyes blown wide in alarm. "Has something happened?"
It had taken a considerable amount of his reserve of self control to remind himself that she probably had nothing to do with his room assignment and he ought not snap at her. Instead, he had settled for a very mild frown, in the grand scheme of things.
"Princess, there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding."
She had stared up at him, matching his frown with one of her own. "A misunderstanding?"
"Yes. I know that people think of Jedi as some sort of magicians, but I assure you that I can't possibly stop an assassin from the room they've given me clear on the other side of this palace."
"Knight Skywalker," she had repeated, her tone noticeably cooler now, "am I understanding correctly that you came to my rooms in the middle of the night to complain about the room you have been given?"
"No, I came to your rooms in the middle of the night to protect you from being murdered in your sleep," Anakin had replied as politely as he was able to under the circumstances, which admittedly was not very.
"No one would dare attack me in the palace, and even if they tried there are at least two dozen guards between any of the entrances and this room."
Anakin had realized for the first time exactly how sheltered this girl's life had been, and exactly how stubborn she was.
"I don't see what's so difficult to understand about this." He had released a frustrated exhalation that an ungenerous person might have described as a huff. "I found three listening devices in your rooms not even three hours ago, so clearly this person has access to your suite. Also I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you do have a balcony off your bedroom and another one off the sitting room."
She had blinked up at him with her pink lips slightly parted, her head tilted in unfiltered incredulity. "We are on the third floor."
Anakin had crossed his arms over his chest. "I will have you know that I once stopped an assassination attempt against a senator where an assassin released venomous insects into her high-rise penthouse through a bedroom window."
That had seemed to bring the princess up short. Anakin didn't know if it was because no one had bothered to tell her about the listening devices, even though he had given his report to the empress and her head of security earlier that evening, or if she had just honestly never considered the possibility that an attack might come from the outside while she was in her third-floor bedroom. She had sagged against the door for a moment so brief that an observer less keen than Anakin probably would not have noticed the momentary show of weakness, then had straightened to her full height and took a step back to open it wider.
"Fine. But you'll have to sleep on the sofa. Or the floor. Your choice."
Anakin had spent the night trying and failing to sleep on a loveseat that even his estranged wife would have been too tall to stretch out on, with dainty, spindly legs that creaked alarmingly under his weight at every slight movement. Its only redeeming quality was that it was not the floor.
The next night the princess had taken pity on him and had a cot set up in the most out-of-the-way corner of her sitting room, but things had still continued to go downhill.
Apparently Princess Cailee's usual experience with bodyguards involved doing whatever she wanted without care or hindrance of any kind, while the royal guard trailed after her like eager puppies in case any of her rabid fans tried to hand her their baby to kiss or propose marriage to her or whatever the fuck without express permission. And no one had bothered to explain to her that things would need to change now that someone was actually, literally trying to kill her.
He had tried to be respectful and go through the proper chain of command to address his issues, rather than confronting the princess himself. However, the commander of the empress's guard, Cadoc Sindian, had been singularly unhelpful. He had seemed offended at the idea that a bodyguard would try to dictate to the crown princess where she could go or what she could do. That level of oblivious stupidity may or may not have caused Anakin to lose his temper.
In any case, following that unfruitful conversation, Anakin and Commander Sindian spent most of their time whenever they were in the same room snarling at each other like two territorial dogs fighting over the same patch of grass to piss on, and he was no closer to solving his problem with the princess.
On the fourth morning, things finally came to a head.
Princess Cailee and one of her cousins came out of the bedroom, where they had spent the entire morning giggling about something or other, and walked toward the door without acknowledging Anakin occupying a chair in the sitting room. He looked up from his datapad, expecting to see the princess hugging the other girl goodbye or something, and immediately noticed that she had exchanged the casual jumpsuit she had been wearing earlier that morning for a dress and heels. If that hadn't been enough of an indication that she planned to go out in public, she had also swept her hair, which she normally left loose when she planned to stay in the palace, up into a twist and she was wearing a simple, un-jeweled gold tiara.
The cousin, whose name Anakin had probably been told but hadn't cared enough to remember, had also exchanged her earlier clothing for a new dress, which looked like it would have been more appropriate for a ballroom than for wherever the princess intended to wear her outfit. She was not wearing a tiara, but she had on a garish necklace with a red stone the same color as her dress. Anakin could only assume that her attire was intended to draw more attention to her than she otherwise would have gotten standing next to her cousin, since she was not as tall or as well built or anywhere near as beautiful as the princess.
Anakin didn't bother to stand from his seat, but he did uncross his foot from atop his knee in anticipation.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the fact that his question made him sound like a particularly controlling Jedi master.
The girls both spun to look at him, the princess pursing her lips in annoyance and her cousin's face going splotchy red in embarrassment.
"I'm going to choose a gown for the jubilee," Princess Cailee told him in a tone that said those words should have meant something to him.
He closed his eyes briefly as if that would make this ridiculous situation go away, but when he opened them the girls were still standing by the door staring at him.
"The what?"
"The empress's golden jubilee!" cried the cousin, whatever her name was.
As soon as Anakin turned his gaze directly onto her she blushed to the roots of her hair and seemed to decide that his boots were the most fascinating thing in the room. Anakin deemed her useless and turned his steely glare onto the real subject of his ire.
The princess met his look with one of her own, her chin lifted defiantly. "The fiftieth anniversary of my grandmother's accession to the throne is next week. I'm sure that I mentioned this to you."
"No," Anakin growled through gritted teeth, "you didn't."
She narrowed her eyes dangerously, but rather than shouting or whining like he expected, she marched towards him, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, and grabbed his datapad out of his hand. He could have resisted, but he was curious—and also he didn't think he could live it down if he got into a tug-of-war with a teenaged girl. After a moment of clicking, the princess handed the pad back to him and he looked down at a holonet page clearly dedicated to informing the public about this jubilee. He scrolled down past the stuffy portrait of the empress to view the event information and immediately choked on an unpleasant combination of his own saliva and shock.
Before he had a chance to think better of it, he blurted, "Do you have a fucking death wish? Is that what I'm dealing with here?"
The cousin looked like she might fall into a dead faint.
"Excuse me?" the princess asked in a low, warning voice.
Anakin rose from his chair, turning the datapad around as he went and shoving it a few inches in front of the girl's face. He jabbed one of his flesh fingers at the schedule clearly printed on the page. "Nine twenty-six: royal carriage leaves the palace. Nine forty-five: royal carriage arrives at the parade grounds. Ten thirty: remarks by Princess Cailee. Oh one hundred: royal family appears on east balcony."
The princess was obviously confused. She glanced at her cousin for support, but the other girl was apparently too busy staring at Anakin to speak.
Finally, she settled for saying, "Okay. So?"
"So? I… It's…" Anakin spluttered for a moment in incoherent rage until he finally got enough control of himself to respond. "This is a minute-by-minute instruction manual for how and when to murder you! You absolutely cannot go to this thing!"
They were standing toe-to-toe by that point. Although the top of the princess's head didn't quite reach the bottom of Anakin's chin normally, with the shoes she was wearing she was currently only a few inches shorter than him, and she was matching him glare for glare.
"It's my grandmother's fiftieth jubilee!" she yelled inches from his face. "I am the crown princess. It isn't even that I want to go; I must attend!"
Anakin laughed aloud. "Well, I'm sure the empress will find it as entertaining as I will to watch your head get blown off. Maybe if she's lucky, the assassins will kill you in the morning and she can introduce the new heir in the afternoon, to avoid the cost of throwing two different parties."
As he watched the fury drain out of the princess's face and her blue eyes fill with tears, Anakin determined that he may have gone just a tad too far. He let his gaze sweep over her frightened eyes and quivering lip and was struck suddenly by the fact that she was young, and that she had never experienced anything but love and peace in her entire life until a couple of weeks prior. He had been handling her as if she had the instincts of a coldblooded killer that he had honed in war sometime between the ages of nineteen and twenty. Or like she possessed the same gritty determination and mental fortitude that Padmè had developed through the invasion of her home world, several assassination attempts, and numerous wartime missions all over the course of a decade. And that had clearly been the wrong approach to take.
This girl was more like… like Ahsoka had been when Anakin had first met her, all bright-eyed confidence and naïvetè and bubbly eagerness to please. Only without having been raised in a crèche. And without several years under her belt learning how to fight. And use a weapon of mass destruction. And without the part where she had knowingly entered a warzone at fourteen and more or less trusted Anakin to keep her alive.
Still, in essentials she reminded him of Snips.
He held in a sigh as all of his anger melted away and he was left only with mild annoyance and a tinge of regret.
After several seconds of indecision, he decided to just do what felt right. He wrapped his arm loosely around her shoulders and gently led her in the direction of the balcony. (Force! She felt as small and delicate under his arm as Padmè, despite being a good five or six inches taller. Now, irrationally, Anakin felt like even more of an asshole.) She stiffened noticeably at his initial touch, but she followed him without protest into the cool morning air and past the little seating area that was set up against one of the walls well under the protective canopy.
The Force, which was always with him, pulsed in assurance that there were no immediate threats.
Once he had reached the edge of the balcony, he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and then released her so that he could lean forward with his forearms against the wide concrete railing. He was too tall for the position to be truly comfortable, but it made him a bit shorter than her and hopefully less intimidating.
He tilted his head in the direction of the exterior wall of the palace to their left, ignoring the ever-present rain drops peppering his face. "Do you see how the first floor is covered in horizontal rows of bricks sticking out? And how all the windows on the second and third floors have sills and casements sticking out and those little roof things covering them?"
The princess stood rigidly next to him, but he could see out of the corner of his eye that she was examining the façade closely.
"It's great decoration," he continued, "but it would also make it a piece of cake for anyone with even a little bit of experience to scale the palace wall. An assassin wouldn't even need to use a jetpack or send a droid to get to the third floor."
"Is this your way of saying that you aren't just trying to be a… a jerk?" she asked, after a few moments.
Anakin grinned up at her. "Maybe. Is it working?"
"Maybe. A little." Her hand went towards her shoulder and she plucked her fingers along her dress for a moment, probably looking for a bit of hair to twirl, if his observations of the past several days were anything to go by. Then she seemed to remember that her hair was pinned up and let her hand drop next to his elbow on the railing. "Do you see that avenue leading straight from the front gates through the park?"
"Yes." It would have been impossible to miss it, but Anakin tamped down any impulse he may have had to make a smart-assed remark.
Princess Cailee let out a wistful sigh. "During the jubilee, my grandmother and I will ride from the palace down that avenue in an old-fashioned carriage that has been used for royal ceremonies for nearly three hundred years, pulled by four white orbaks that are part of a lineage that has been bred for almost as long to pull the royal carriage. People will be lining up hundreds deep all in front of the palace and along the streets. They'll have come from all over the empire to celebrate fifty years of the empress's reign and the promise of the future."
He could see where this was going, and although he was not at all pleased, Anakin felt resigned to the inevitable.
"Is this more important to you than your life?" he asked, trying his best to keep his voice level and not to let what he personally thought bleed into his tone.
"I was eight the last time there was a jubilee, and there were no public celebrations because a forty-year anniversary is not something people particularly celebrate and because—" She broke off abruptly and drew in a long, deep breath to gather herself. "Because my parents had only died a few months before."
At the pain in her voice, Anakin's mind immediately flashed back to his own mother's death. He viciously forced the image back into the recesses of his mind. Fortunately, the princess did not seem to require a response from him or even to notice his reaction, as she was staring fixedly at a distant point somewhere in the city as she continued to speak.
"My birth, or maybe my parents' wedding the year before, was the last proper celebration this empire had. And the people will expect to see me, to be reassured about our future. So, yes, Knight Skywalker, the jubilee is of utmost importance to me. Although I do hope that you will be able to keep me from being killed during it, of course."
He allowed himself a small grimace before he smoothed his expression and pushed himself up from the balcony railing to face her.
"Anakin."
She startled and turned her head to stare at him. "What?"
"My name is Anakin," he offered, sticking his hand out into the space between them. "How about we start over?"
Her hesitation was mostly likely because he had broken at least a dozen protocols and rules of etiquette, and he made a mental note to himself to never, under any circumstances, tell this story to C-3PO. Or to Artoo, who would take the first chance he got to tell a highly exaggerated version to Threepio.
After what seemed like ages, she put her hand in his. "Cailee."
His fingers engulfed her much smaller ones as they executed a very formal handshake, then he let go and crossed his arms over his chest in a way that had never inspired obedience in his Padawan but he could only hope would be taken more seriously by the princess.
"I have conditions."
She lifted one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Go on."
"First, you need to accept that your life is in danger and that my job is to keep you alive. No more making plans without me. Second, you will never go anywhere outside this palace without me. Consider me your shadow." He ticked off the items with his mechanical fingers as he went. "Third, you will never go anywhere inside this palace without either me or one of the guards that I preapprove. Fourth, we will go alone to this dress fitting thing, as I haven't had time to vet your cousin."
"That's not fair!" exclaimed Cailee. "Leeya is my best friend, and she's family!"
"Fifth," Anakin continued, raising his voice just a bit to speak over her protestations, "don't argue with my rules."
"Oh, come on!"
"And lastly—and this is the most important one—you follow my orders as if you're vying for first place in the Simon says galactic championship. If I say hit the deck, I better see you kissing the floor. If I say run, you take off like there's a rabid kaadu on your ass. No hesitation. No questions. No back-talk. Got it?"
The princess was clearly trying to maintain an affronted expression on her face, but the effect was ruined by the smile threatening to upturn the corners of her mouth and the laughter in her eyes.
"Fine, I've got it," she conceded. "But can Leeya really not come with us? I need a girl's opinion."
"You're a girl. Why do you need another one?"
Anakin had been married to a fashion icon long enough to know how outrageous his question was, but his goal was to make the princess finally break down and laugh like he knew she wanted to. He achieved that in spades.
Author's Notes: Well, there you go. Padmè survived, but without Anakin there to intervene you start to see the differences between this world and canon. What if Obi-Wan (or any other Jedi) had gotten the message about Scipio just a few minutes later than Anakin did… or hadn't rushed as headlong into the situation as Anakin would have done to save his wife… or hadn't burst into the office and caused Clovis to pull Padmè across the room from where she had originally been standing just before the building collapsed?
