#believedgood

𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬, fiercely tight and holding them between her own, as though the precious moment might slip away from either one of them at any given moment.  life had always been precious and delicate, and padmé had not shied away from the fact, living it with every ounce of passion inside of her and throwing all caution to the wind for the causes that she had believed in.  still, this was a moment that should not have been possible.  technology may not have been her area of expertise, but such feats certainly had not been possible when she had first been alive.  freaking out was perhaps the most appropriate option, even if she had maintained her own composure.

❝ please, don’t feel obligated to apologize on my account, ❞ padmé insisted with a shake of her head, a soft smile warming the curve of her lips as she looked up at her son.  a layer of warmth had settled across her, wrapped tightly like a blanket on a winter night.  ❝ it’s an honor to meet you, luke, truly. ❞

luke is ashamed of himself, ashamed of everything about himself honestly, from his hair to his boots to the scars on his hands, but not in a self-destructive type of way, not in a damaging type of way. he wishes he were more; wider, cleaner, more encompassing, like the sky on a summer day, able to hold together all the things beneath it, be they sandstorms or thunderclouds, and then open up easily enough to let starships and meteorites pass through.

the desire to meet his mother has plagued him since he was a very small child, since aunt beru had sat him down and explained why he shouldn’t call her “mother.” he’s wanted to know for years now that despite whatever hell his father had brought to the galaxy, at least his mother was nothing like that. and it’s true, it’s all happening right now, right in front of him, and he can’t even come up with a single, cohesive sentence to say to her, his throat closing, his brain spinning, the first words out of his mouth coming out in a rush, “i don’t think i even properly know your first name,” and it sounds like a question, because... well... it is? he stares down at their joined hands, unable to let her go now. she has such smooth hands. “i had to hunt through archives in like a thousand libraries to find out your last name was amidala, and even then i wasn’t sure it was you until i got here and you’re here, and...” he tries to shake his head free of the nonsense. there’s a lot.

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@believedgood

luke and padme begin to take many walks together, as their favorite form of bonding time, and even though both of them have been to coruscant before, and even though both of them have walked these street plenty of times, they still manage to find new alleyways and streets and marketplaces together.

one afternoon, they happen to come across a large shop all dedicated to expectant mothers, and something in padme’s eyes makes luke grin and insist that they go and see what’s inside. what follows is hours upon hours of the two of them meandering through aisles of baby paraphernalia, her picking out what she would have dressed him in as a child and how embarrassed he would have been, versus coruscant’s near-enough version of what he actually did grow up surrounded with.

it’s bittersweet but oddly healing for both of them, wandering between sorrowful silences and too-loud laughter.

“ohhh, look at these cribs!” she coos, pointing out mirrored bassinets with suns and moons on them.

luke chuckles, shaking his head. “i would have needed something sturdier, i broke my way out of every crib i was ever put into. i was such a handful.”

“you get that from me, i was the same as a child. naboo has such massive trees, i learned to climb before i could walk.”

luke finds a beige poncho with the crest of mountains across the edges. “see this, this is the kind of thing i grew up wearing.”

she gives him a pitying look he recognizes all too well. “that’s tragic.”