When Angels Weep

Chapter: 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Morning brought no relief for Padmé. Her mind still whirled with grief for her Annie and she was relieved to discover Anakin not in the apartment. Dormé was setting out a meal for her, with Threepio helping. When she came into the room, both turned.

"Oh, Miss Padmé, you are awake at last!" Threepio came to her. "It is good to see you out of bed."

"Good morning, Threepio," she replied, making her way towards the table.

Dormé greeted her with a smile and a nod. "Thank you, Threepio. You've been a great help. I can manage from here." When Dormé was on duty, it was their custom to take breakfast together.

"Oh, of course. If you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to."

When they were alone, Padmé struggled to find a place to begin. She wanted to tell her friend everything that had happened, get her advice. But she only toyed with her fork, picking at the food before her. She was uneasy, wondering what this day was to bring her. What new complication was going to be added to her life?

"How are you feeling this morning, my lady?" Dormé's gaze was kind and warm, the genuine concern in those depths bringing on those weepy tendencies that frustrated Padmé so much.

How was she feeling? Honestly? Should she even admit to her honest feelings, mental and physical? She'd never edited herself for Dormé, so why begin now? "I feel...like I've lost everything. I'm adrift."

"How so?" The woman sipped from her own cup, head tilting a fraction with the question.

Padmé set down her fork without taking one bite. "I want to tell you what happened. Hear me out." Dormé nodded amiably and Padmé began her tale, leaving nothing out. She started with Obi-Wan's arrival, spilling those things he'd said and then moving on, straight to the moment where Anakin had choked her. The words became rushed and stumbling, slipping from her lips almost faster then she could form them. Several times, she had to pause and take a breath. Padmé started crying in earnest, sobs pouring from her as she shook her head. "This man here is not my husband."

There was a frown on Dormé's brow, a gentle curve and she was slow in replying. "My lady.... Padmé. Anakin Skywalker is your husband. You told me yourself. And as for Obi-Wan...." She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself. "Obi-Wan Kenobi was a traitor. It's been all over the HoloNet news how he and the other Jedi were going to seize power. I know you don't want to believe it and I don't as well, but--"

"No!" Padmé shoved back her chair and stood. "You weren't here that day. You didn't see the truth in his eyes." Padmé pointed to herself. "I saw the truth. I didn't want to believe it. And then Anakin on that horrible planet. He choked me, Dormé! That man tried to kill me! He may be Anakin, but he's not my Annie, not my husband."

"You've no bruises. When a person is choked, there are bruises. There are physical signs and you have none." Dormé set down her cup. "My lady, either Anakin Skywalker is or isn't your husband. In one breath you've claimed he both is and isn't. That speaks of deep confusion and I believe he's right. You need rest. He said the stress was getting to you."

"Stress!" She laughed a bit hysterically, knowing she was fueling Dormé's opinion and unable to stop. Stress. How ironic that Anakin would claim stress was her problem when it had actually been his. Obi-Wan had been so worried about the stress Anakin was under....

Dormé didn't believe her. Padmé could see it in how she averted her eyes and smoothed the cloth that covered the table. What could she do to convince her?

Well, her mind jeered, you could compose yourself and talk rationally. Dormé does have a point. It is absurd to talk that way. Is and isn't at the same time. What sense does that make? None.

"You should take a few days and relax. Don't go in to your office. Let your staff there work for you. If anything needs signed or your particular attention, they can bring it here. You'll need to begin taking time anyway with your due date closer. Why not ease out now?"

Padmé stilled, the words sinking in. "I can work if I choose? I can get dressed, go to my office and work in peace? I'm not confined here?" She'd been certain Anakin would order her to be walled in to keep her here. That wasn't the case? She could come and go as she pleased? Somehow, Padmé couldn't quite believe it as truth.

Dormé shook her head. "Not to my knowledge. Anakin would prefer that you remain here and rest, but I don't believe you're under 'house arrest'." She meant the words as a joke, lips turning up in a grin. Padmé couldn't take them as a joke, not returning the grin. Dormé sat back in her seat, a serious mien returning. "He's concerned, my lady. You are pregnant and you did breathe in the air on that planet. You fainted."

"Fainted." So that was the explanation being given for her loss of consciousness.

"Yes. You should care for yourself and your babies, make certain there are no lasting effects from that place."

And that ended the conversation. She managed to eat a few bites from the plate prepared for her, then excused herself to bathe and dress. Padmé took her time with morning preparations. Later in the day she'd be having a more intensive prenatal check-up. As she considered the appointment, Padmé found she was very upset with Anakin for telling her she was carrying both a boy and girl. She'd wanted the surprise. With all of the technology available for her, she'd wanted that single thing to be a surprise. He'd ruined it, almost with glee.

Are you sure you don't want to know the sexes?

She braided her wet hair and slipped on the clothes she'd wanted to wear the night before. Dormé came into the bedroom.

"My lady, Bail Organa has sent a message. He wishes to speak to you."

"Thank you. Is he in his office?" He would be in a few days was the reply and Padmé had Dormé schedule a meeting with him. Determined to go about her day as normally as possible, she planned a full list of activities. It would do her good to be outside moving around, better than being cooped up here with memories of Annie staring her in the face.

~~~~~~~~~

The figure of Anakin Skywalker appeared and Dormé glanced toward the bedroom. He'd chosen a good moment to contact her. Padmé was bathing and getting dressed while Dormé perused her schedule for the day and made necessary security arrangements.

"How is she this morning," he asked without preamble.

"Still a bit disoriented," she replied. She was still mulling over everything her lady had told her, trying to make the events make sense. Studying his image, that interested, open expression, she found the story difficult to believe. He was genuinely concerned for Padmé, torn apart by her manner. Would such a man choke his own wife when his love for her could be felt so deeply?

"How so?"

Should she mention that tale Padmé had given? No, it would worry him more to know the details. He shouldn't have to know the sort of anguish that would come from hearing Padmé had claimed he'd used violence against her. "She maintains you aren't her husband," Dormé said instead. If he absolutely needed to know the other bit later, she'd tell him.

He sighed, posture slumping just a bit and head bowing. "I see. Is she relatively calm though?"

Was her lady calm? Sort of. Actually, since the outburst, she was more like herself than she'd been, taking charge of the day in her usual composed manner. "Yes. I believe she wishes to go to her already scheduled appointments for today. I see no reason why she shouldn't. I'll be there and I'm arranging guards to accompany us. If anything happens, there'll be plenty of help about."

"What appointments does she have?" His voice came through hard and cold, as though it was unthinkable she should have any plans at all.

Dormé glanced at the appointments listing. She was imagining the tone, she thought, her mind treading back to Padmé's words at breakfast. Her lady's tale had made her mildly uneasy, that was all. To think it truth was disturbing. But it couldn't be truth. Anakin cared so very much for his wife. She was only imaging that tone. "The usual meetings with other Senators this morning and a prenatal check-up this afternoon. Perhaps more as the day goes by."

He asked for the information on the check-up and she gave it to him. In the past, her lady had longed to have him accompany her and now it could come true. Anakin would go to the pre-natal check-up with her. When his image was gone, Dormé smiled in satisfaction, pushing aside all unease that lingered. Be gone with it! Everything Padmé had wished for was coming true at last.

Padmé wanted Anakin on Coruscant and he was. She wanted their secrets to be in the open, hiding done with. Exactly what was happening. He wasn't going to be dismissed from the Jedi Order and they could be open about their relationship and family. Padmé wanted Anakin with her for the rest of the pregnancy and the birth. So it was. All of her wants coming true.

See, Dormé thought to herself. There is such a thing as a happy ending.

She stood and went to see if Padmé wanted help with anything before they needed to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~

Walking the halls of the Jedi Temple was an interesting experience, Anakin reflected, finding himself outside his old quarters, the ones he'd had as a Padawan. So many different feelings and sensations whirling about. There was a numbness surrounding him and he could almost hear voices calling out to him.

Anakin. Anakin listen to me.

Almost.

He cocked his head. They were faint though, perhaps fading echoes of the past, words he could hear yet scarcely make out. Memories. Voices recorded that were coming through static. If he concentrated, a word here and there would become clear.

Why won't you listen?

In his mind's eye, he could see the children walking and running along this corridor, hear their voices in happy chatter with each other or in reverential conversation with a Master. If he concentrated, Anakin thought he could almost smell the scents of tea, flowers and...scorched circuitry.

A small smile turned his lips. After all, he'd lived along here and his quarters had always held some kind of droid he'd been putting back together. He opened the door and peered in, seeing the room as it had been left. Cleaned and ready to be reassigned. There was not even a stray bit of wire forgotten about on the floor. The air inside was flat and stale. A wave of melancholy took him over and he closed the door, continuing on this tour he'd felt compelled to take.

No child would be assigned to those quarters anymore.

....blinded, Master....

The bodies had all been removed, but so far, the personal possessions remained. No looters had come into the Temple, no souvenir hunters wishing for something to remember the Jedi by. So far, all were too afraid to risk coming here. He passed the quarters of those he'd known, traveling the roads of memory, occasionally taking a look inside.

The sight of child sized garments flung across the end of a bed caused a tightness to grip his chest and an ache along his brow. Still, he continued his tour, driven by an impulse to do so.

Remember.

His lips tightened and Anakin gritted his teeth. He strained to hear what the now singular voice was saying and couldn't make it out. Clarity escaped him. Frustration began to grow inside him as that presence he felt with the voice remained just out of reach.

You're a good man, Anakin. Remember that.

There had been happy times here, overtures of friendship, meals taken with camaraderie and challenges that had pushed his skills to higher levels. But there had also been times he'd rather forget.

Those friendly overtures had dissolved in rivalry more often than not. Class periods had been strained with the sense he'd had that he should always be doing better than he was. Those expectations he'd ascertained from his instructors that he should be more than the others and fear when he excelled far above them. There was aching loneliness that ate at him from the inside out. Coldness that tried to encase his heart.

It would have been far kinder if no one had ever mentioned the words 'Chosen One'. Sometimes he'd wondered what it would have been like to be just another Padawan, unaware of those two words that marked him and set him apart.

A dream, he thought. You've always known you were more than the others. Had they never said you were the Chosen One, you still would have been set apart by how they treated you. They never trusted you and it showed. They never would have trusted you. Ever.

His gaze touched upon the walls, the floor, the place he'd learned to pretend he called home. Obi-Wan had trusted him. And Padmé.

The Jedi never wanted you. Now you are the Jedi. You can do whatever you like without archaic rules and regulations governing your life.

Anakin sighed. It was nearing time for Padmé's appointment and he wanted to be there, to make sure she and the babies were still well. He gave a last look about him....

Vader turned away and strode quickly from the Temple. He had better things to do than wallow in the past.

~~~~~~~~~~

Privacy for these appointments had always meant a lot to Padmé. She went into the exam alone, no handmaiden or guard with her, yet here was Anakin, barging in where she didn't want him. She didn't want him standing there, looking at the monitors, listening to her questions over what was normal for her condition. She didn't want him asking his own questions and satisfying his own curiosity. Not this man.

Annie, she would have welcomed with her. Him she wouldn't have minded sitting in the chair, watching the monitors, hearing the questions and answers.

He settled into a chair, long legs stretched out and arms crossed. To her surprise, he asked no questions, made no comments during the exam, sitting silent as though he wasn't entirely sure why he'd come to begin with. Then again, she decided, he can always access the records later if he wants. She had no doubt he would access them on whim because he could.

Occasionally, he'd lean his head back with a faint cool smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His lips would part and eyes narrow and then he'd blink and give a slight nod. What was he hearing? What was he seeing? What was he feeling as he sat there? Padmé hadn't any idea.

When they were alone, an amused expression crossed his features, his blue eyes alight with humor. "You're angry with me."

Padmé sniffed, slipping her shoes back on. "What would give you that impression," she asked, keeping as much ice in her tone as possible.

He stood, a graceful, fluid movement where he seemed to glide up to a standing position, and shrugged. "Nothing much. The way you keep giving me a cold shoulder. The frown you have when you look at me. That miffed sniff. They all point to you being displeased about something. I assume it's me at the moment, but feel free to disabuse me of that notion if I'm in error." When she narrowed her eyes at him, he 'tsked'. "What have I done?" He gave her a quick glimpse of straight white teeth.

Padmé blinked, weighing the wisdom of having this matter out with him and deciding he'd consider it a little matter, not anything to be unduly angry over. It was 'safe' to discuss it. "Sexes," she said, reaching for her cloak and putting it on.

"What about them, my lady?" He drawled the last two words and she was momentarily catapulted back in time to other moments when he'd said those words the same way. 'My lady', a slight emphasis on the 'my'. His lady, meaning his and his alone.

She licked her lips, unwilling to be sidetracked. "You said 'sexes', Anakin. Plural, as in two, male and female. I wanted to be surprised. There's no surprise now. A boy and a girl. It's one thing for you to decide you want to know and another to inform me without my consent to knowing!"

He frowned, a caricature of penance. "I'm sorry. Didn't think you'd notice that word."

He wasn't sorry. Sorry wasn't in his voice, his eyes, his expression or any part of him. The apology meant nothing without sincerity and Anakin was not sincere. He'd meant to tell her, done so deliberately. "Don't give me that. You knew I would. You knew I'd notice."

"Maybe I did."

"Maybe?" She raised her brows. In the past, this tone and expression had induced him to be honest with her. He'd pause, swallow and step towards her, admitting concerns and fears. In the past, he'd deferred to the natural authority her age had given her.

This time, it failed, miserably so. It could even be said to have backfired on her.

He flushed, lips tightening, a sign that he was gritting his teeth. He closed his eyes and turned his face away for a brief second before looking back at her. "You're done with appointments for the day. We're going back to the apartment." Anakin drew himself up tall, looming over her. A domineering pose, intended to intimidate, but Padmé had learned long ago not to be cowed by such tactics.

"You're changing the subject and no," she replied, moving towards the door, ignoring the imperiousness of his words, the command, "I'm not done. I still have three meetings before the evening meal and two after. I'll be working late--"

The door wouldn't open, Padmé nearly bumping into it before she noticed. She stopped speaking, listening instead to her husband's breaths. They were loud and forcibly slowed. Her eyes slipped shut as she gulped, her throat suddenly gone dry. Padmé clenched her hands in the soft folds of her cloak. Her palms became damp with perspiration as the silence continued. Finally, she could wait no longer.

"Anakin, open the door."

"No," he gritted out.

Padmé didn't have to turn to know that his hands were balled into fists and he was having to exert a tight reign over his temper. She'd seen it before, though not quite as often as she had in the past couple days. He had an explosive temper when things didn't go as he wanted them to. "Anakin, please."

"Please? Are you begging me, Padmé?"

Her legs trembled, felt as though they were going to collapse beneath her. One of the babies kicked hard. "I'm asking. Please, will you open the door?"

"No." There was a petulant timbre to his voice and she turned to look at him. Even if Dormé could see him now, she didn't think her friend would accept the truth of what had been told to her that morning. Dormé had witnessed Anakin's sometimes childish bent before and been amused by it. She'd even laughed in the apartment about it as they'd packed that long time ago.

How frightening though, to see this in a grown man, a child's tantrums unleashed with a man's strength. She recalled him on Tatooine, throwing items around and claiming he was being held back, saying Obi-Wan was jealous of him. Padmé had dismissed his tantrum then, for she'd known what had fueled it. He'd been grieving for his mother, appalled by his own actions to avenge her and frightened that he'd lost that control he was supposed to have. She'd tried to soothe, excusing the burst of temper for those reasons. Then, she'd placed her hand on his cheek and embraced him, his head to her breast. He'd been hurting, a deep hurt, and didn't everyone lash out when their hurt built up too much? It was normal.

She should have known then that he was capable of even darker things. She should have seen what was coming and run from him as fast as she could.

But if she had, she never would have known Annie's love. She never would have been wrapped up in the wonder of it, of the peace that came from loving another person. She never would have had these precious babies in her belly and her life would have been unutterably dull. Padmé would have lost so very much if she'd never chosen to follow her heart for the first time in her life.

"What do you want," she asked softly. "What will make you open this door and let me out?"

"Cancel your appointments. Spend the rest of the day with me." His hands unclenched, the anger leeching from him until his stare was merely entreating. His ire was gone, as swiftly as it had raised up and he looked as tired as she now felt.

"Anakin, I have duties--"

"You've always had duties," he interrupted. "Isn't it time to have a personal life? Isn't it time you were simply Padmé-wife and not Padmé-Senator?"

There was no leaving this room until she agreed, was there? He was going to hold those doors shut until she told him she'd cancel the appointments and throw her career to the wind. Padmé bent her head, looking down at her belly. Wasn't she going to have to do that anyway? Wasn't that a part of what she had to do to ultimately find safety? She had to step back, to fade away into obscurity. Give up everything she'd worked for.

This, here and now, was her duty, to lull him into relaxing his grip on her and the babies. It had to start sometime. This was the perfect opening. Did she have the stomach to begin it? Could she tolerate the stranger in her Annie's place?

"It's one night, my love. The entire galaxy won't fall into tatters in a single night."

No, it couldn't fall into tatters because it was already there, the Republic shattered into strips waving limply in the breeze. Broken. Giving last gasps of the dying.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, "and you're right. You will have to step back. When the babies are born, you'll need to take time off from duties."

Tolerate or not, she had to. Padmé steeled herself, shoving her thoughts as deep as she could, trying to hide from him. After a moment, she gave an almost stilted nod of her head. "I'll agree, but I need to work tomorrow, Anakin. I have to maintain my schedule as it stands until the last possible moment."

He came to her, hands touching her arms, running over the soft material. "You need to slow down. Your due date will be here before you know it. Ease back, Padmé. Now. Don't make me go to Palpatine and have him order it. You know I will."

She forced herself to place her hands on his chest, to grasp the edges of his tunic. "I will," she promised.

Padmé didn't even flinch when he kissed her.