When Angels Weep

Chapter: 12

~~~~~~~~~~

He was contrite, sincerely so, sitting on the divan across from her much like he had on their first meeting after a ten year parting. His hands were hidden in the folds of his robe sleeves and he perched on the edge of the cushion. "I'm sorry, Padmé."

There was more sincerity in his voice than there had been in weeks and Padmé believed him. This time, he was genuinely sorry. She smoothed the folds of her skirt.

"You were right," he continued, raising his gaze just a little and quickly dropping it down before it could meet hers. She knew how difficult this was for him, this apology. "I had no real reason to accuse you."

"Then why did you?"

His lips parted and she was surprised by the pleading tone of his next words. "When I'm with you, everything is right. I'm whole, but when we're parted for even a moment...." He paused, appearing to brace himself to finish his thoughts, that tone disappearing. "My mind begins to imagine the worst. It focuses on negatives. They build and build." Anakin looked at her directly now. "I know I've been irrational. I apologize for that."

Irrational. The definition of that word did not fully encompass his behavior. It barely covered it.

Padmé said nothing and after a moment, Anakin frowned. She saw annoyance flash across his gaze, ripple along the lean line of his body.

"Well," he asked.

"Well, what?"

Scooting back on the seat, he snorted. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Like what? What would you have me say?"

"Maybe that you forgive me. That would be nice, my love."

She blinked, tilted her head a little at the defensive tone. "Are you trying to start another fight?"

He went silent, finally shaking his head. "No. I don't want to fight with you. I just want to know that you've accepted my apology."

Padmé shrugged. "Fine. Accepted."

Smiling, he got up and came to her, sitting beside her and stretching an arm along the divan back. "There. No more talking about it. We'll leave it at that."

And that was one problem, she decided. Anakin didn't want to face anything that might hurt him emotionally. He ignored things instead, internalizing them until his emotions exploded. Issues didn't go away simply because one didn't wish to discuss them. They didn't go away because a person closed their ears to the truth of a matter. "No more fighting tonight."

The remainder of the evening was slow, as though time decided to crawl along rather than march at its usual pace. They ate a late dinner and afterward, Anakin turned to his favorite pastime of late: trying to get Padmé to play the battle game. He pleaded, he cajoled. He promised to bring her back a present from his trip. Where he was going to buy her something was another matter entirely since he wasn't going near any shops.

"Please, Padmé. A game before I go tomorrow morning. One game. Show me the skill Dormé once boasted of you having. Then I can remember it all week."

Padmé swayed, rocking Shmi. Slowly, she considered whether or not to grant his request. Why not? Why not show him how well she knew how to play this game? Was there any reason to continue her reluctance? Padmé nodded. "Okay, Anakin. We'll match wits. Set up the board the rest of the way while I put Shmi to bed."

In the nursery, Dormé, tending to Annie, kept her voice low. "What do you think you're doing, my lady? Don't play him." A double meaning to cautious words.

"Shh." Padmé tucked her daughter in and touched her fingers to little Annie's cheek. "He wants to play a game, Dormé, so I'll play. Relax. It's a game, nothing more."

"It's no longer just a game to him. Don't you see that? He takes it so seriously. Any hint of his opponent winning and he--"

Turning, she grasped her friend's arms. Dormé was becoming far too upset. "Compose yourself. You're stronger than this. Don't let it make you fall apart. I need your strength in addition to my own."

After a moment, Dormé nodded. "I will, my lady. Please, be careful."

Anakin was ready when Padmé returned, such easy confidence in his manner. He was good at battle strategy, she knew that. He wasn't called a hero for nothing. The Clone Wars had honed his command skills and he'd become casual in them. He knew when to retreat and when to advance and when to do really nothing at all.

They talked little, Padmé keeping diligent attention upon both their forces laid out. He was an aggressive player, quick and decisive, but Padmé was no slouch herself. She'd been playing this game since she was old enough to begin grasping the rules. Their match went on long past her usual bedtime. She was determined to not make it easy for him. His win couldn't be effortless. She wanted him to have to think about what he did.

She surveyed the board, saw something he had not covered. His command pieces were alone, separated from the bulk of his army. Scattered, yes, but alone. In slow degrees, Padmé split her own pieces, closing in on his in random turns, as though she was tiring and losing her concentration. He gave her a puzzled stare. Padmé could almost hear his thoughts, those wonderings if she was really tiring.

Anakin's efforts remained on her command center, ignoring the outer fringes of playing pieces, and then....

Padmé stared at the board, a glimmer of satisfaction working through her. She'd succeeded in her play. In two moves, no matter what he did, she could win. She could level his army and he didn't even notice. That was obvious to her. Anakin didn't notice her strategy. He'd been the one out in real battles, yet he hadn't seen the strategy she used. He was oblivious.

Reaching out her hand, Padmé made a deliberate movement in her command center...and threw the game.

Anakin was the victor by her design and he didn't seem to see it, to notice that she'd let him win.

She sat back, stretching and yawning. "Oh, I'm tired," she exclaimed, arching her back and letting the neckline of her gown slip down. A blatant attempt to divert his attention from his usual habit of revisiting the final moments of the game in triumph. It worked, Anakin's eyes lifting from the board and staying trained upon her as she wiggled and stretched.

"Not a bad game," he remarked, standing and reaching out a hand for her. "When I return, we'll have a rematch."

Padmé nodded. "Yes," she agreed slowly. "We'll...rematch." Grasping his hand, she made certain her neckline slipped even lower, giving him a flirtatious grin. "And now, perhaps I can entice you--"

He needed no encouragement.

~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin felt her anxiety, her fear, and held her to him. Relief flooded him. He'd been silly jumping to conclusions like he had the day before. This woman loved him. She always had and always would.

Padmé trembled against him, arms tight about him and he gently loosed her.

"This is routine, my love. No fighting, no danger, just boring construction and dry reports to read." Anakin was surprised to see tears on her cheeks. It had been a long time since she'd cried when seeing him off. He wiped them away. "The days will fly by."

"I know."

That seemed to make her tears come faster, her anxiety growing. He touched her hair, buried his fingers in the soft curls. "I wish I didn't have to go for a whole week."

Sadness rippled across her beautiful features. Padmé threw herself back against him, nearly toppling him over. "Hold me," she gasped, burying her face in the front of his tunic.

Anakin allowed the embrace for a long moment, then loosed her once more. "I have to go."

"Kiss me. Please. Once more before you're gone."

He obliged her, putting all of his love for her in it. Then, before she could pull him back to her, he strode to the speeder and climbed in. "You'll really miss me," he said, still feeling anxiety, fear and now a measure of sorrow from her. Her true feelings, unleashed and laid bare before him. She loved him and she would miss him. His beautiful Padmé.

Padmé clasped her hands together at her chest. "I will miss you with all of my heart each day that we are parted."

With a final, lingering glance, Anakin sped away. An hour later, Vader boarded a ship and left Coruscant.

~~~~~~~~~~

Padmé stared into the drawer. Nestled among his clothes was Anakin's old lightsaber. He'd recently constructed a new one with a red blade, quite pleased to put away the old one. Reaching down, she picked it up. He'd once given her a crash course on how not to handle a lightsaber if she came upon one sitting about and she remembered his teaching now, setting it carefully in one of her old scarves and wrapping it up. She placed it in the day bag she used for those many things one had to take when going out with a baby. He wouldn't miss the old one, if he even thought to take it out at all.

Her plan was in place. She was going to take Artoo and Threepio to a shop for maintenance. They didn't need it, of course. Threepio's memory was to be wiped and then the two droids would be transported to the ship Zoras had waiting. Of the two droids, only Artoo would know the truth. They'd meet Zoras at a prearranged place in a few hours and once off Coruscant, she and Dormé would hide. They'd take the babies to safety. Threepio for Shmi and Anakin's old lightsaber for little Annie. Something of their father for both of them.

It was only right.

"My lady, hurry," Dormé hissed. "We don't have time for you to keep stalling like this."

Padmé sighed, straightening her back in an effort to strengthen her flagging will. Did she really want to go? No. She didn't want to go, she had to. To save her children and her Annie, she had to go.

"My lady!"

Returning to the front room, Padmé watched Dormé trying to keep both of the babies from squirming out of her arms. The sensation that she was forgetting something important nagged at her, but her mind was too busy thinking on her escape plans and on her sorrow to fully consider it. This apartment held so many memories for her. Good and bad both. Goodbye had come both too slowly and too quickly and she could not believe the day was finally here.

Padmé stared down at the game board, still set up from the night before. Reaching down, she lifted her endangered piece, the same one she'd deliberately placed into jeopardy from Anakin's army. She slipped it into the bag and with a deep breath, left the apartment for the last time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bail Organa was surprised when Padmé burst into his office, causing a mild scene as she did so. She had Dormé, the twins and the two droids with her. He rose from his chair, bewildered by her manner and by the unusual panic he saw on her face. Padmé didn't panic. It just didn't happen. She was calm and collected and something must be very wrong for her to show her fear.

"Bail, you have to help me! No one believes me. Security says I'm imagining things."

He went to her, motioned for an equally puzzled Sheltay to close the door. "Padmé," began carefully. "What's wrong?"

"I'm being followed. I can't go anywhere without a man behind me. I can't...." Leave, she mouthed and Bail understood. Padmé couldn't get off-planet while being followed. Today was the day then.

He exchanged a glance with Sheltay. Determination gleamed in her eyes and with a nod, his aide was out the door. Bail had every confidence that she'd create an appropriate diversion. "Sit down a minute. Now explain a bit more what's going on."

She wiped at her eyes and he realized she was angry as well as panicked. "Dormé and I left the apartment to run errands and Threepio made a comment about a man behind us. He'd been with us the entire time we were walking, never looking away from us. Following us. Bail, I can't do anything with a stranger on my tail!"

He held up a hand. "I can have one of my men confront the stranger. Take a different way out of the building and be about your day. I'll send some of my own guards to protect you. It'll be fine, Padmé. Relax."

Padmé nodded, relief on her features. Bail and several of his own security staff escorted her group to the lobby, where she quietly pointed out the man. In minutes, the man was being questioned, Bail's staff carefully following Padmé to ensure there were no others tailing her. After all the hard work arranging this, Bail thought, it wouldn't do for her to be caught.

The man who'd been following Padmé approached him, voice sharp as he read Bail's guard a riot act. "I was hired by Anakin Skywalker to see to the safety of his wife when she is outside the apartment. I certainly hope you can explain my failure to protect her when he learns of this."

"A misunderstanding," Bail said in a soothing voice. "Perhaps if Padmé had been aware of the necessity--"

"He didn't want to alarm her. And now I've got to tell him when he returns that I lost track of her."

"He'll understand the misunderstanding. That's all it was. I'm sure Padmé will be fine for a few hours. When she returns safe and sound, you'll not have to tell him, will you?"

"Understand?" The man chuckled. "How well do you know him, Senator? Failure is no option." With a final, curt nod, the man strode away and an explosion ripped through one wall of the building, bringing chaos in its wake.

There were screams and panic, people milling about as security rushed to the area. Bail saw Sheltay coming towards him. Her expression was blank, neutral. She stopped before him and gave a slow nod. Bail's glance strayed to the damage the explosion had caused. It was nothing horrible, mild structural damage and no injuries that he could see.

He squared his shoulders. "Well then, I'd say our workday is finished. An explosion disrupts everything. I'm a bit shaken, aren't you?" With that, Bail gave an order to have his staff sent home for the rest of the day.