#padme:threads

"It's not that bad." Anakin lied. It smarted like kriffing hell. He took down the culprit at least, that's not before he got slammed in the face with a piece of a pipe. It was hard enough to knock anyone out, but Anakin got angry and channeled something deep in him. He charged and they fell to their death. Like that, he was a hero again. Coming back into Padme's apartment, his temple had been cut open so she made him sit down to look at it. "I'm not helpless." He complained the cloth came to his forehead. Skywalker forced himself not to wince and looked at Amidala. "I was a fool. I'm still a fool." The Jedi said softly. "I shouldn't have let you go all those years ago."

"I would never suggest that you were." Padme's voice, as usual, was soft and patient. Her kindness was as renown in the galaxy as her political strategy, but Anakin was one of the few who knew that that patience had its limits. A lifetime in service to her planet--and now to the senate--had made her very slow to anger, but Anakin had always had a way of testing her. She pulled the towel from his brow to get a better look at the wound. It would heal without a scar, but she hated to think what would have happened if he'd been left to his own devices. "You're one of the most capable men I've ever met, Annie. But you neglect your body if you feel your mission is more important. Don't pretend it isn't true." She wet the cloth and returned it to his head, cleaning up the last of the blood and making sure the wound was clean. She had been about to agree--a joking teasing, really--that, yes, he was a fool to have landed himself in this situation. But his next words made her freeze.

Anakin was used to keeping things pent-up. Obi Wan hadn't listened to him when he thought that Palpatine was up to no good. His feelings on the matter were strong. It wasn't like that with Padme. Skywalker stopped pacing and looked over that the senator and blinked. Sighing, he went over to sink on the couch next to her and plopped down. Leaning back, he stared ahead unwilling to look her in the eyes. "You ever think that what the separatists are fighting for might be right and that the Republic is just one step away from falling?"

"I just want to know what you think. How you feel about all of this." Padme was still not sure how she felt about the clone army. They had saved her life, saved the lives of hundreds of Jedi that day. If it had not been for the clone army arriving when they did, she, Anakin, Obi-Wan and countless others would have been killed on Count Dooku's orders. Padme herself had ordered the clones to track Dooku and save Anakin and Obi-Wan. And yet, none of that erased the fact that she'd spent years of her life campaigning against an army for the senate. Could one battle really change all of that? Could it change what she stood for?

Padme giggled--then quickly covered her mouth with her hand, as if unable to believe she had made that sound. There were so few moments where she allowed this of herself, this freedom, this sense of giddy carelessness, like a young school girl with her first crush. As she had once told Anakin, her first boyfriend had also been in politics, also part of the job she had undertaken when she was only seven years old. From that day forward--the first day she'd participated in an interplanetary humanitarian mission--her life had been consumed by policy and study, leadership and, often, secrecy. As queen, every hour of every day was accounted for, and though she'd had brief glimpses of a normal teenage life--like sneaking out to a concert with her handmaidens behind the backs of her well-trained security officers--she had hardly had this: dates and romance, the bliss of answering to no one and nothing but her own desires.

One hand fell upon her stomach, the swell of their child kicking within, as if the unborn babe, too, understood the severity of the situation. The other hand, shaking terribly, covered her mouth. "Anakin, what are you saying?" She shook her head. "Stop saying these things. Please--" She reached for his hands now, lacing her fingers through his, squeezing tightly as she tried to tug him close.

Padme had not often felt weak in her life; since she was a little girl, she had done everything in her power to make sure she was in control, that she was strong. For years, she had had to be strong for her country--to lead them as queen, then as senator--and then she had had to be strong to hold together the little family she and Anakin were building, the one no one but themselves (and now, perhaps, Obi-Wan) even knew existed. Now, suddenly, she felt fractured. Her body did not feel like her own anymore, and the reality she had come to know--a functioning senate, a strong Jedi Force--had crumbled overnight. And now her husband, the man she loved more than anyone, was acting in a way she could not understand.

Padme's face was fixed, her expression as impassive as she could make it, yet her eyes gave away the truth--a stormy sort of frustration, caught somewhere between sadness and anger. Her words, however, were collected and polite: the words of a well-practiced diplomat who was far too used to putting her own feelings aside. "I will always be available to work alongside the Jedi. I have great respect for what you do, and I am sure a time will come when we will need to work side by side again for the good of the galaxy."

The truth was that she had once held love for him--at least, she thought she had. After weeks of fighting those feelings, she had done something she'd sworn she never would: she had left herself become completely exposed and told Anakin how she felt. She had, foolishly, allowed herself a sort of vulnerability that had always been too dangerous for someone in her situation. And yet again, life had proven to her how right she'd been in her original assessment.

Anakin didn't get back to Coruscant as much as he liked. This damn war was annoying. Sure, it was cool to be a General, have an army, a Padawan and all that. But, right before this war started, he had gotten married and he missed his wife. They'd gotten so little time together and he was craving time with her. Since he often visited Palpatine and the Jedi frequently visited the Senate building, it was not shocking for Anakin to be in the Senate Tower. Letting himself in, he took a seat and put his feet up on her desk while she finished up a call. He took in how beautiful she was, how much better she looked in person and he moved to sit on her desk mouthing, 'Get off the phone'. Finally, she was off the phone and he moved down then, to pull his wife into a deep kiss. "I have missed you so much. Why a surprise later? Why can't I have a surprise now?"

Padme looked up as her husband walked in through the front door of her office. At least it was really her this time, she thought wryly, and not one of her handmaidens pretending to be her. They were lucky that it was Sabé who Anakin had walked in on last time; Padme trusted all the girls in her service, but she preferred as few people as possible to know the true nature of her and Anakin's relationship, and she trusted Sabé more than anyone else in the world. She held up a finger to tell Anakin she was almost finished, the corners of her lips twitching to hold back a smile as she fought to remain composed and professional on the holo line.