It had been one week, two days, and six hours since Padme’s secret illicit marriage to her hottie Jedi lover (as the tabloids had enthusiastically termed the situation) had been revealed to the galaxy. The fallout had been enormous. Florid headlines had swung through the news; the Naboo Queen had recalled Padme to discuss her future in the Senate; and the Jedi Council, although busy with the war, had implied that there was a meeting on the near horizon about Anakin’s place in the Order.
Which is why when Padme, sat in her office to frantically cover what she could in the possibly limited time she had left, got a message that there was a Jedi to see her—two Jedi—neither of which were her husband or Obi-Wan or Ahsoka—she inwardly groaned. Just the littlest bit. As Padme had taken fire on the Senate front, Anakin (and Obi-Wan, really) had handled the Jedi. She wasn’t sure as to their purpose in seeking her out, given that their connection to the situation was to her husband, but steeled her shoulders in preparation. The Jedi would be polite, no doubt—but there was also no doubt that she and Anakin had landed themselves in boiling hot water and had yet to swim their way out of it.
She stood up as the two entered the room. Ah. Council members. Higher-up Council members. A nerve-wracking clue as the tenor of the conversation about to occur.
“Master Windu, Master Yoda,” Padme nodded. “I understand you wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes,” Mace said grimly. He crossed her arms and gave her a heavy stare. Below, Yoda remained silent, but also peered up at her as if to see straight through her.
“Would you like me to comm Anakin?” Padme offered politely. “In case—”
“No.” Mace interrupted. He was still studying her, eyes narrowed.
Bewilderment shot through Padme. So, they didn’t want to discuss anything with her and Anakin, but that begged the question of why they were there. She straightened and met their gaze, waiting for them to speak.
“Senator Amidala, I will get straight to the point,” Mace began, arms still crossed as he stared her down. Then, he asked the absolute last thing Padme expected.
Sternly, “What are your intentions with young Skywalker?”
Padme didn’t know what to say.
To stay married to him? Have babies with him? Live a long and happy life with him?
“I would think that my secret marriage to your ward already indicates the answer to that question,” Padme said a tad sharply, thrown off by the question.
“Precisely—a ‘secret’ marriage,” Mace said, even more sternly if possible. “An elopement.” His grim tone suggested that few horrors in the galaxy compared.
“Meet Ruwee and Jobal, we would like,” Yoda added kindly.
Padme blinked. “You’d like…” Why would Mace and Yoda care…?
All of a sudden, a chilling realization seized her brain. Her parents. They wanted to meet her parents—Anakin’s in-laws.
Which meant that Padme’s in-laws were—
“You’re older than Skywalker, correct?” Mace was asking disapprovingly, as Padme’s mind distantly tried to come to terms with what was happening. “Significantly older.”
Padme was more than a little offended. “I’m in my late twenties, and Anakin—”
“Anakin was nineteen when you married,” Mace finished with a statement that had not been what Padme was about to say. “Yes. I’m aware.”
“Meeting this week, perhaps would be nice,” Yoda muttered with an absent tone. “Meet Ruwee, Obi-Wan can.”
“Master Yoda,” Padme bravely tried to begin, “I’m sure—”
“Old, I am!” Yoda said with a thump of his cane. “Wait, I will not.”
Padme’s mouth opened, shut, opened again, but before she could say anything, Mace flatly spoke again.
“Anakin Skywalker is the Chosen One, and one of the most promising knights of our Order. The peak of your career was when you were a child, I understand.”
‘Master Windu hates me’ indeed, Ani, Padme was inwardly cursing with a foul irritation. She plastered on a smile. “Yes. If you recall, that was when Ani and I first met.”
“You were fourteen and Anakin was nine, yes.”
“And then we didn’t meet again until we were adults,” Padme said meaningfully, noting how Mace had pointedly said Anakin instead of Ani.
“Which resulted in marriage nearly immediately.”
“After we had spent time together.”
“Three days under duress, if you recall.”
“I recall Skywalker being under duress.” The word vulnerable was unsaid but loudly implied.
“Well!” Yoda sighed, peacefully shuffling up to Padme as if she weren’t currently fighting the battle of her life for her dignity. “Make him happy, you do.”
“Hm.” Mace didn’t say anything else.
“Thank you, Master Yoda,” Padme said, relief flooding through her. “We’ll have to share a meal sometime.”
“A promise, that is,” Yoda stared up—oh no, was he being stern now? And where was Anakin, shouldn’t he sense Padme’s distress—“All of us, together will.”
“Of course,” Padme said smoothly, although she knew the two beings in front of her could easily sense her turmoil, damn it. “Just set the date.”
“We will,” Mace said heavily.
The interview appeared to be over with that. Both exited as quietly as they had come. Padme stared after them as the door shut, and then walked back over to her desk, fell into her chair, put her head in her hands…and started laughing. She had tears streaming down her cheeks when Sabe came in worriedly.
“I heard the Jedi were here, what did they--what’s so funny?”
“Oh, Sabe,” Padme gasped. “I have a new and entirely unexpected appointment next week.”
“…what unexpected appointment?”
Padme composed herself, drew herself up, and said with a grin:
“Dinner with the in-laws.”
