This scene, specifically, was written for a dear friend. Hope you enjoy!

That night she spends passed out by Anakin's side is the deepest most dreamless sleep Padmé has experienced since the days before the Clone Wars. Sadly, it is the last peaceful moment she has with him before being notified that she is being brought up on charges of treason by the Rebellion's military tribunal. An indictment was already in process and all that was left was to schedule the arraignment.

The sudden anger she feels is surprising, even to her. But she keeps it hidden well. The last thing Anakin needs is to feel as though this is his fault. They will not execute her. She is certain of that. The worst they will do is strip her of command. Even so, the thought enrages her.

She'd given up her life, and her son and daughter's childhood, to serve on the frontlines of this cause, and the thanks she gets is accusations of treason. And why? Because while she had told them that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker, she had not told them that Anakin Skywalker had been her husband. She is "compromised," as the summons describes it. She has withheld critical information from her superiors. At least that is the accusation.

In truth, many members of the High Command had already known the import of that name, 'Anakin Skywalker,' had known, or suspected, their involvement prior to the days of the Empire. But they did not want to admit to it. It would cause them to lose face. It was true, she had omitted a critical detail in those initial reports. But the truth was, she'd hardly believed it herself when he had first appeared. And once she'd had confirmation, she'd been fearful that they'd send him away to be picked apart and interrogated by some gutless minion. Broken as he had been, he might've even submitted to it. And that would have been the worst fate of them all.

So she'd never made it explicit. Bail Organa knew. Mon Mothma knew. It is likely they have joined the calls for inquiry in an act of political sacrifice. She cannot especially blame them. The others should have at least suspected. But they have instead called for someone's head to roll, and, in this case, she couldn't really blame them. She'd known she was playing with fire. Ever since that day he'd passed out in the midst of a public debriefing, she had worn her heart too much on her sleeve, unwilling to withhold the love she longed to give him. He'd been right. To claim him publicly as her husband had been an outrage. Not so much from her own men, but from the outrage of superiors who'd read reports on Anakin's destructive post-op outburst.

So now that the truth has come to light, they have moved to protect themselves. A part of Padmé longs to wrap her hands around the neck of whoever had made the decision to proceed with the indictment. She tries not to think about it and to be grateful that, at least, the affair is being kept quiet. She has not even been relieved of command. Further evidence of the farcical nature of the charges. She hopes that it will blow over as simply a tribunal for show.

Instead, she focuses on the day to day. Rebuilding in light of the original attack on the base. And attending to Anakin whenever she can. He heals but he heals slowly. Days stretch on where they keep him in a hospital bed, much to his consternation and confusion as he insists that he should already be up and about.

Padmé strongly suspects such convalescence was not tolerated by Palpatine. It is obvious the Emperor had no interest in Anakin's health or comfort. The life support system from which they had extracted him was agonizingly primitive, intentionally so. It didn't surprise her; obviously, it did not benefit the Emperor if Anakin was strong enough to overthrow him. He only needed to be strong enough to overthrow the Emperor's enemies, and as powerful as Anakin had been, such drastic hobbling measures would have been a necessity.

Eventually, they transfer him to soak within a bacta tank. A process that she is assured may take days. Though he argues that it "need only be a matter of hours," she counts herself fortunate that this will leave him indisposed over the course of her arraignment.

She wishes that she could stay with him, but now that the danger has passed, she must answer for the information which had come to light during Anakin's delirious rampage. She still has not told him and depending on the outcome, she does not plan to. When she arrives in the empty conference chamber, she is alone save for the two guards posted to arrest her, pending the tribunal's conclusions, as well as a page who swears in each of the summoned witnesses. The view screen fills with familiar faces, formerly friendly faces, scowling down at her as the incident report is read without fanfare and witnesses are called and ordered to testify before being dismissed. It becomes increasingly clear that the deck is being stacked against her. This is not an arraignment, this is to be a bureaucratic execution. The questions are skewed and the testimony is rushed. Her own men shoot her apologetic glances, as they are barred from speaking out of turn or answering beyond the directed questions of the Chairman.

They are almost at the end of the proceeding when the Chairman calls out to ask the page if there are any remaining witnesses. Suddenly, a rumbling voice comes from the doorway behind her:

"I wish to testify."

An audible gasp reverberates from one of the members as a towering shape strides into the center of the chamber, its color strangely inverted from its formerly black finish.

"Anakin, you should still be resting…!" Padmé hisses. But he ignores her, striding by with purposeful indifference. It is Darth Vader's shape and shadow, but its color is suddenly blazing in Rebel white. It's the new life support system, she realizes distantly, they've painted over it.

"May I speak for my wife?" He asks, the helm tilting up toward the man at the center of the viewscreen. The question hangs heavy in the air.

The Chairman's eyebrows lift in shock, his mouth hung frozen in a thin line. He considers for a moment before extending a hand, the customary sign of permission.

"This is highly irregular, but considering the subject matter, I will allow it. Understand, however, Lord Vader, that your presence here is strictly at my indulgence."

"Understood." The vocabulator intones.

"Then proceed."

She has never seen him so subdued. So civilized. He is sworn in by the cowering page, before being granted the floor to address the members of the tribunal.

"Honorable members," he begins with flourish "I submit to you that General Padmé Amidala's loyalty has never been in question. Even amongst yourselves." The accusation draws looks of irritation, even so, he presses on. "I believe we are all aware that, had I not defected, she would have gladly killed me without a second thought. Even if she had known who I was."

This is a lie. At least, Padmé knows it's a lie. She would never have been able to kill him. Perhaps Anakin does not know better. Perhaps he's merely saying what the tribunal wants to hear.

He continues.

"She did not know I was alive. Similarly, I did not know that she lived until only a few months ago and, as soon as I discovered her identity, I defected without a second thought. When I left the Emperor, I left at the near price of my life. I considered this paltry compared to the thought of being with her again. I would never have joined him had it not been for her. You see, shortly before the rise of the Emperor, I had reason to believe that she was at risk of dying, whether from some undiagnosed pathology, or a cruel twist of fate…"

Padmé notices the careful omission of Luke and Leia. And she feels a modicum of tension leave her shoulders.

Still, the Chairman is clearly growing irritated with this soliloquy. "And what does that have to do with General Amidala's conspicuous failure to identify you as her former husband? How is this relevant to our proceedings here today?"

"The word is simply 'husband,' Lord Chairman." He growls. "I am still her husband and I promise you it has everything to do with her loyalties. And, more importantly, mine."

The man bristles, his eyes sharpening in rage. But he stays silent as Anakin continues.

"Before Operation Knightfall, then-Chancellor Palpatine promised that he could save her. That he had secret knowledge. And that he would share such knowledge with me. If I would only do what he asked. When Master Mace Windu moved to kill him instead of arresting him, I felt I could not allow his death because I would then lose all hope of saving her. So, you see, tribunal members, my loyalties are inextricably bound up in hers."

He swivels the helm to look in her direction. His gaze focused, even behind the lenses.

"And, again, what does this have to do with her failure to disclose the full truth of your identity?"

"If she had, would you have stripped her of command? Separated us? And why? Because you doubted her loyalty. I have no intentions of betraying the Rebellion. And neither does she. As I said, she would have happily killed me, even knowing my identity, if she had thought I posed a threat to the Rebellion. In truth, years ago, even when her very life hung in the balance, she refused to join me in following Palpatine. She would have rather died. I imagine her sentiments remain much the same."

"But you followed the Emperor for years. You killed our families, enslaved our children! You were the Emperor's iron boot. Do you mean to tell me you would throw this way over a woman?"

Padmé bristles at the contempt dripping from his tone and is shocked that Anakin maintains his composure.

"I served the Emperor because I had no choice. If I had left, he would have killed me, and even if he had not, where would I have gone? Who would have helped me?"

"But you believe in an Empire." The Chairman challenges.

"I am not so sophisticated as to "believe" in anything. Though I am flattered that you think so. I am a weapon to be wielded, nothing more. Palpatine was my master. But now...now she is my master. She rescued me from that pit. Took me back into her arms when she should have cast me into the outer darkness. Not only am I bound to her in the covenant of marriage, I'm eternally indebted to her…I care only for her. So I would strongly suggest that any action you take against her is an action that you take against me."

He lets the words hang. Padmé stiffens. The tribunal's eyes widen collectively.

"Are you presuming to threaten us, Lord Vader? Were it not for us you would be dead."

Suddenly, a water glass shatters that had been sitting on the desk in front of the Chairman's view screen. The popping noise goes off like a blastershot as the Chairman flinches, his uniform suddenly soaking in clear liquid. It is only then that their gazes are drawn to where Anakin's thumb and forefinger are pressed together, lifted up so that all can see.

"Had I wanted to, that would have been your throat, Lord Chairman."

He pauses and the tribunal falls into stunned silence. Padmé looks up. Wondering with horror what the pronouncement might be in light of this appalling display of aggression. He is wagering with her life's crusade.

"Now, that was a threat." Anakin states. "I was merely stating a fact: to move against her is to move against me. Conversely..." Anakin intones "...if her loyalties are to you, then there also will lie my loyalties."

It is as if the tension slackens. Several tribunal members lean forward. She knows that only the Chairman is allowed to speak outside of conference, but it seems all of them are bursting with sudden interest. Padmé knows what he is doing. He is bargaining. Offering himself up as a pawn with which to negotiate. She admits it is a clever thought, but it is a gamble whether the tribunal will take well to such a brute tactic.

"I defended your base when it fell under attack. And I will do the same again if you ask it of me, if she asks it of me. She is my only priority, my only concern. And you will not punish her, or besmirch her honor by implying that she would ever be so weak as to be governed by the sentimentality that has made me her slave. While my loyalties may be so weak as to be swayed by bonds of blood and kinship, she is stronger than I am. She is better. So long as you retain her loyalty, you will retain mine. And if only for that reason, I submit that these charges should be discarded as the pathetic posturing that they are. One so competent a general should not be so lightly discarded. Even less so, should two competent generals be lost for such ephemeral slights."

He pauses. All the flourish of his Imperial command obvious in the attention centered on his words. He turns and walks away without formal dismissal. Leaving the flustered tribunal to gavel themselves into recess and adjournment to conference over Padmé's fate.

Padmé follows him to the halls, flanked by the tribunal's security detail. Her face burning with outrage. "How dare you!" She exclaims. "How dare you show up without discussing this with me. Or at the very least asking for my input on the subject."

"They were going to throw you to the wolves to save their own skin." He says simply.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? How you've made me look? You might have just validated all of their misgivings about my loyalties!" She snaps. "Just go back to the MedBay."

"I have done no such thing. I have merely made clear to them exactly who you are. More importantly, exactly who you are to me." He intones. She cannot see his eyes. Cannot see his face. But she swears his defiance radiates like heat from the sun.

"You had better pray that this stunt of yours goes well. Because I swear, Anakin..." Their battle of wills is interrupted when a page comes into the hallway to request her return to the chamber.

She swallows down the sudden dread building like bile inside her throat. It should have taken far longer than that for them to deliberate. She turns and walks like a prisoner condemned. Escorted by the attendant guards like a criminal. Anakin hovers near her, near the door. He should not be allowed to enter. But she doubts the guards are so foolish as to stop him from watching and looming like some ghoulish white specter.

To her shock, the tribunal returns a unanimous verdict dismissing her case.

She swings her gaze to Anakin's blank mask, her eyes wide with shock, all the anger of their prior fight forgotten. She had not expected to get off so lightly, especially not by unanimous vote.

The news is disclosed to her in clipped tones by the presiding Chairman, who then immediately closes the viewscreen. Leaving her sitting stunned into silence as the two guards stare with naked and unprofessional shock. Clearly, they have never witnessed an event so irregular as this.

As soon as the guards turn to leave the chamber, it is as if all the tension leaves Anakin's body. As she stands to move toward him, he slumps silently against the wall. In alarm, she rushes to him as his knees start to buckle and slides a hand under his arm to keep him from falling.

She had known he should not have been up and about!

"I believe," he says woozily, "I believe you were right about spending longer in the…bacta tank."

"I told you that you should have been resting." She scolds half-heartedly. Still reeling from her sudden pardon. But deep down her heart sings at his profound act of love. His testimony has saved her.

"Alright, Anakin…" She says softly, pulling his arm over her shoulder, just as she had done months prior in the conference room. "Let's get you back to MedBay."

And so they leave, arm on arm, husband supported by wife. Walking openly under the sun.

It's not over yet. I'm just writing these vignettes for the sheer joy of it.