When Angels Weep

Chapter: 5

~~~~~~~~~~

Reporters loved it. Anakin Skywalker and the elusive, private Senator Padmé Amidala out in the open for questions. Padmé hadn't expected as many reporters as had arrived, nor had she expected Anakin to enjoy himself before them. If he'd been walking, he would have strutted about.

She said very little, claiming exhaustion from her condition and answering only when she had to. Anakin however, fairly waxed poetic in answer to all questions tossed his way, giving far more detail than she thought he should. He ignored her disapproval.

He'd avenged beloved Palpatine, remained the only loyal Jedi in the galaxy. And they adored him more than they previously had, a hero certainly for these times. Not only that, but he'd captured the heart of Senator Amidala, a private woman who strove to keep her private life from the public eye. Oh, how romantic!

Yes, she thought, Anakin is quite the heartthrob. Young girls everywhere were going to be swooning over him.

"Why make her a target any more than she had already been? I believe the Separatists would have tried again to kill Padmé had our marriage become common knowledge." He made their secret sound like some well thought out battle strategy to keep her safe as the war had raged on. "Of course, a few people did know. Sworn to secrecy."

Padmé kept a smile plastered on her face, that polite smile she'd had so much practice using in the Senate. Her 'official happy facade' Annie had called it. She put it to good use, masking her disapproval of his answers and of this interview. It wouldn't do to let her misgivings show, now would it?

"If not for the war and the regrettable treachery of my Jedi brethren," he continued, still spilling thoughts as fast as they formed in his head and not pausing to consider what he should say, "our marriage would never have been kept a secret. I kept my wife safe."

He kept her safe. No, it wasn't any of her doing at all, she thought bitterly, recalling all the wild dancing about she'd had to do to keep the fact hidden. Toes she'd stepped on to spend time with him, flat out lies she'd uttered and those sudden personal evenings she'd given her staff. Not to mention the dancing Dormé, Moteé and Ellé had put on while Padmé and Anakin had slipped off together into the city. Or when they'd remained in the apartment. Her handmaidens hadn't liked hiding anymore than she or Anakin, but they'd risen to the challenge like they always had, determined to succeed.

She took a long look at the faces gathered about them without really seeing any of them. Only a few more days and she'd have Ellé and Moteé back with her. Padmé was going to be very glad to have them with her. At least they had not seen her when Anakin had brought her back. They had not witnessed her hysteria.

"I kept her safe," he repeated and Padmé suppressed a snort, turning her glance back up to his profile.

He turned his head to look at her and her heartbeat seemed to pause in her chest. "I love my wife," he said with a mischievous little curl of a grin. Her Annie looked out of this man's eyes.

Joy in that tickled through her veins and Padmé didn't even stop to consider her actions, being as rash and unrestrained as she thought him being. Raising on tiptoe, she slipped a hand behind his neck and nudged him to her, desperate to give her Annie a kiss before he slipped away once more. The kiss was sweet and all Annie, happiness and love and untainted innocence. Padmé nearly wept from it, uncaring that the galaxy watched.

Her Annie.

She gave a genuine smile as she lowered back flat footed, but as she watched, there was a shifting in his eyes and he was a stranger once more.

No! Oh no! Please Annie don't go! Don't leave me with him.

Padmé blinked and ducked her head to hide how quickly that sunny smile faded away to disappointment. The gesture would look shy, as though she was embarrassed by her own impetuousness. She heard laughs and whistles.

Anakin drew her closer. "As you can see, we haven't quite moved past the honeymoon stage yet."

Laughter and warm comments greeted his statement, the interview formally over.

Back in the apartment, she was treated to replay after replay of the interview until she wanted to scream from it.

"There was my Padmé. A bit shy, a bit bold and always beautiful. Not quite back to me yet, but I'm patient."

Patient? She gathered her robe to her, shooting an incredulous stare towards him. Anakin wasn't paying any attention however, too busy replaying that spontaneous kiss. Perhaps his distraction was a good thing, she reflected, touching her throat with one hand.

Patience was not Anakin's best trait and never had been. It never would be, in her opinion. Funny how something could be a trait one both loved and hated in a person. That impatience endeared him to her even as it irritated. She loved that he trusted his own judgment so well that he'd be moved into action. She hated that he couldn't temper that impatience with wisdom to know when to let others help.

A prime example was with Obi-Wan on the subject of their marriage. Padmé suspected the older man would have done everything he could to help them with the Jedi Council. Anakin had been too impatient to take the time to talk it out and go to his former Master. No, he had to fix everything for them by himself. She reached for her cup and took a drink. As if by asking for help he'd be less of a man in her eyes.

She felt his gaze on her now and looked over at him again. He'd leaned back, arms stretched along the divan back, arrogance displayed on his features and in the pose of his body.

"You will come back to me. We'll be happy together. You, me and our babies."

She turned away without comment.

"Simple fact, my love. And that kiss you gave was perfect. You couldn't have timed it better."

The rest of the evening passed quickly, Anakin becoming involved in that strategy game he and Dormé liked to play in the evenings. They were equally matched in skill and as the game went on, Anakin's attention would fall solely to the game as he endeavored to win against his capable opponent. Padmé pretended to read, all the while keeping a critical gaze upon the man masquerading as her husband.

He honestly wasn't that good of an actor, nothing worthy of a holodrama or even a holomelodrama. No, Anakin was mediocre at best as an actor. What occurred, time and time again, was that those he spoke to misinterpreted his statements, gestures and motives. Doubtless he was also on occasion employing the Jedi mind trick as well, came a cynical voice in her mind.

So how was he continuously fooling Dormé, a usually astute judge of character and excellent bodyguard? A combination of things. Flat out lies and half-truths both aided by Padmé's own initial actions. She could see how her hysteria must have looked alongside Anakin's calm. And then there was flattery, with a bit of flirting mixed in. Dormé wasn't immune to either and Padmé had to admit that Anakin could be very charming when he chose to be.

He'd learned from the best, after all. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a charming man, one she'd heard Ellé refer to as 'dashing'. He'd had courtly manners and Padmé wondered just how long it had really taken him to impress a diplomatic mien upon Anakin.

Anakin was teasing her friend right then, saying something low that had her laughing so hard she almost upset the game when she reached to move her piece. Padmé glanced back down at the novel she was pretending to read. If only he would throw a tantrum like he did when they were alone. If only he'd show Dormé the man he was.

She set the datapad aside and put her head in her hands. Emotion welled up in a steady rise, floodwaters pouring over her and she wept from the absurdity of wishing the very thing she was trying to avoid.

Padmé went to bed early and dreamed of death, pain-wracked fiery death reaching for her from all sides. There was no escape and although she knew she was dreaming, she couldn't wake herself, slipping time and again back into the same terrifying dream. She suffered it until Dormé shook her awake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dormé was awake early, before daylight began to lighten the Coruscant sky, looking down from the balcony and wondering where Ellé and Moteé were. They had been scheduled to arrive late the previous night, having taken the absolute latest transport back here in order to stay on Naboo a few hours longer. They should be relieving her from duty in an hour. She was ready for it too. Dormé needed some time away herself to reflect on the last couple weeks. Being on duty constantly was taking it's toll upon her.

She felt her judgment was off, hampered by needing to be alert for danger to her lady each hour of each day. It was easier with all three of them there, taking turns with the brunt of their duties. She planned to spend two days sleeping, making up for the rest she didn't seem to be getting at night. Ever since Anakin had brought Padmé back from Mustafar, Dormé had not slept well.

Sympathy insomnia perhaps? She knew none of them were sleeping well. Padmé had nightmares and Anakin would prowl the apartment for hours before settling down to rest. Several mornings she'd come out to find him asleep on one divan, as though he'd sat down and passed out before he could drag himself into the bedroom.

Raising her cup to take a drink, she grimaced to find the hot liquid had gone cold and bitter as she'd stood there.

Before she relaxed, she was going to apprise them of the possible situation, tell them her lady's fears and insist they tread carefully around Anakin just in case. There had to be something she wasn't seeing and perhaps the three of them together could sort it out. Dormé couldn't just dismiss Padmé's fears, not when they only seemed to be strengthening. She swallowed the liquid and turned as Threepio came towards her.

"The transport landed hours ago," he informed her. "Records indicate both Ellé and Moteé were onboard."

"Thank you," she replied, beginning to worry. It wasn't like them to disappear like this. They took their duties as seriously as she did. They'd never go off like this without first contacting her or Padmé.

"I could check again," Threepio suggested. "The odds that the registry is wrong--"

Why not, she decided. Might as well double and triple check. "Go ahead." She returned to the balcony, peering down at the accident she'd noticed earlier, hoping there hadn't been fatalities. More accidents were happening each day, people growing careless in their driving. The air taxis had been taken away, but the scents of scorched metals remained heavy in the air. Dormé shivered though the air was quite warm. Something was wrong, there was no other explanation for their absence.

Less than an hour later, her intuition was proven correct.

She was shocked by the news, unable to wrap her mind around what she'd been told. Dormé ran through the apartment towards Padmé's bedroom, bursting through the doorway and into Anakin's waiting arms. He would have sensed her coming and she clutched at him, nails digging into his skin as she tried desperately to form the words.

"I have to wake her." Tears wet her face.

Anakin's features tightened, brows drawing down. "Let her sleep."

"I can't," she said in an urgent whisper. "She needs to know this now."

His hands moved from her back to her arms, tightening, the grip of his mechanical one hurting. She gasped, tried to pull away. He urged her backwards, into the hallway. Dormé's gaze flew over his shoulder to Padmé, still asleep in the bed, oblivious of the next drastic change about to run loose in her life.

"I said let her sleep." Annoyance rippled over his features, a quick shimmer and was gone. He released her, swallowed hard, lowering his gaze from hers. "I'm sorry, Dormé." Anakin's voice was contrite, one hand running through his hair. "She's been tossing and turning. This is the first time she's slept more than a few minutes at a time all night. Nightmares."

Dormé shook her head. There was no time for this. Her lady needed to know now. "Ellé and Moteé are dead, Anakin. They should have been here and they're not and I just found out why."

He blinked, studying her. After a moment, he stepped out of her way, leaning against the wall, head tipping back. "Wake her."

Dormé did.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or so they told her. Her handmaidens had been on their way to the apartment, right outside the building, when the air taxi they'd taken was hit by another air taxi. A malfunction. A freak accident that left them, their driver and the driver of the other vehicle dead. All were pronounced dead on the scene.

Padmé did her duty, letting their families know and putting forth a brave face, just like she always did. Somehow, she got through the week after.

Too much dying, she thought, pressing a cool cloth to eyes that felt hot and gritty from constant tears. There was too much death in her life at present and she wondered how many more people close to her were going to die. Dormé perhaps? Her parents? Her sister and nieces?

Warm hands guided her to the bed, pressed her to lie down. She relinquished the cloth and found Anakin there with her, not Dormé. He tucked the covers about her, stroked his fingers along her cheek in a gesture he probably thought soothing. Padmé turned her face to the window, stared blankly at it. She didn't want to talk or think. Weariness ached her body.

It was all too much and she didn't think she could bear it.

"Do you need anything, Padmé," he asked.

"No," she whispered.

"Let me know if you do. Send Artoo for me. I'll be in the other room."

"Dormé...?" she began.

Anakin gave one of her hands a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry about her. She's resting too. Her family is worried for her and she spent nearly an hour trying to calm them. It exhausted her, so I told her to rest."

He left and silence descended. Blessed silence. Padmé closed her eyes and found that she could not sleep. That state would not drag her under and comfortingly cradle her to it's breast.

This too will pass in time.

She stirred, opening her eyes, seeing no one. Artoo was near the door. Padmé sighed.

Let them go. Do not succumb to despair for your friends.

The voice was reassuring and gentle and Padmé rolled over in bed, the sheets twisting about her body. "I miss them," she whispered. "I want them back."

Much will happen in your life that you will not understand, Padmé. Some for the better and some for the worse. You will lose people dear to you, but you must go on. You must accept the loss and let them go. It isn't healthy to linger in pain. Doing so creates a festering wound inside.

There were rapid footsteps, Anakin appearing in the doorway, his eyes wide open and chest heaving. "Who's here with you? I can feel someone here."

The lights blazed on, Padmé shielding her eyes with one hand. Anakin searched the room, then sat beside her. He was uncertain, that emotion on his face. He blinked several times, gulped in a breath. His voice was hesitant. "I...felt someone here. It was a presence apart from yours. Familiar."

Padmé returned to her back. "It's just us," she whispered, placing a hand on his knee. "There's no one but us, Anakin. You, me and Dormé. Three people and no more."

Her hand was lifted away, dropped onto the bed. "I know that. Don't tell me what I already know. Tell me what I don't." His attention focused upon her. "What don't I know, Padmé?"

Not now, she pleaded with fate. Please don't let him start something now! I can't face it. I can't bear it.

"I felt a presence, Padmé. Explain it." He was yelling and Padmé expected Dormé to appear in the doorway, asking what was wrong. But Dormé didn't come and could not witness his irrational behavior, his insistence that there was someone here besides they three. There was no one and could be no one without having gone by Anakin first.

"There's no one here, Anakin. You see that. Where would someone go? Out the window? It's intact. There's no one, so don't yell at me for something you couldn't have possibly felt."

"Couldn't possibly?" He stood. "You have no understanding of the Force do you? You have no idea what I can know." He held up his hands. "You have no idea the sort of power that I have." He set one knee on the bed, leaned over her. "No one is going to come in here and take you from me and I mean no one. Someone was here just now and I will find out how and why."

Padmé stared up at him. She felt impossibly helpless, a determination to beat back that feeling growing inside her. She was going to fight it.

His lower lip trembled and then he was sitting, sighing, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Padmé." He took her hand in his, thumb stroking tenderly. "I'll make this apartment secure for you. You'll be safe here. No presence that shouldn't be here, no one at all who shouldn't be here. You, me, Dormé and when they come, our babies. No one else." Anakin pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Now you rest. Rest will help. I'll wake you in a bit."

She sleepwalked through a few more days, half in and half out of a waking state, her mind not truly on anything she set out to do. Returning to the apartment, she and Dormé found Anakin asleep on one divan. Padmé sat down across from him as Dormé left to finish their errands.

Their roles were mixed up. Hers and Anakin's. He'd reversed them, keeping her off-balance and unable to gain an upper hand in their verbal exchanges. She ended up seeming irrational while he retained the calm she'd once had.

He was flat on his back, one knee raised, resting against the divan back and the occasional soft snore left him. In quiet moments such as this, when the hardness faded from his features in relaxation, Padmé could see her Annie. She fancied she could even feel Annie rising to the surface in Anakin.

A slight smile turned her lips and she rubbed her belly absentmindedly. Ridiculous, wasn't it, to think such an absurd thing?

No, came a voice in the silence, Not ridiculous, Padmé. It's a very apt way to put it.

She sighed and Anakin stirred.

He breathed in, stretched and turned his head, blinking sleepily. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, blossoming forth. "You're back."

"For some time now," she replied.

He turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. "You should have woken me."

A rush of tender feeling swept her. How many times had he woken to her watching him and vice-versa? "I didn't want to disturb you. You looked tired."

"I still don't sleep well." Anakin studied her, raised up a little to peer about the room. "Who's with you?"

"Dormé was here, but she went to finish errands. I was too tired to continue, so we came back."

"Mmm." He returned to his previous position, a puzzled turn to his brow that didn't last long. "Well, tell me everything. Tell me how our friend Bail Organa is doing. Leave out the boring political details. Did he mention his wife?"

A pointed question. She had yet to ascertain what his thoughts were on Bail. Any meeting she had with the man was discussed in detail, Anakin drawing Dormé into the conversation as though to validate what Padmé told him. To make sure she spoke the truth. "He did mention her. Breha is well. He asked if we four could have a meal together when Breha comes to Coruscant next month."

Anakin pushed himself to sitting, swinging his legs over the side of the divan. "Really? That would be good for us, Padmé. Both he and his wife are well thought of. Tell him we accept the invitation."

Padmé nodded and carefully pushed herself to standing, holding her hands out for balance before she made her way to the bedroom. "I'm going to change and work for awhile." Soon, she was deep in her work, pausing occasionally to stretch her back.

~~~~~~~~~~

She was his.

Vader watched Padmé as she worked. She had Threepio helping her and was caught up in whatever she was doing. Her hair was down, as he liked it, loosely flowing over her shoulders and cascading in soft curls down her back. The drawstring neckline of her gown was wide and low. As he watched, one side slipped down her shoulder, baring it.

Well, she was going to be his, as much as she had been Anakin's. More so in the end, for he -- Vader -- was here every day to guide her into what she should be.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the coming day when she would finally release the past into oblivion where it belonged. He pictured her embracing their future together, at last seeing the possibilities of their ruling this galaxy. It was going to be wonderful and she was already halfway there.

Her frustrations about the Senate were growing and as she slowed her daily pace, he could see her separating herself from this life. Soon, she'd notice the things they two could accomplish as rulers. All the people who'd wronged her could be dealt with. The things that frustrated her about the Senate would be fixed. He'd see to that. After all, his Empress deserved her galaxy to be right and just. That goal was the same as her goal in the Senate.

Reaching for right, fighting for fairness and justice.

It was the same goal, only in their galaxy, there'd be no squabbling over what was right, fair and just. They'd decree what was so and if people didn't fall into line, then they'd take their punishment. Fair. There'd be no arguing over fate. What was right was right and what was wrong was wrong. There was no shade of gray. One or the other.

People loved Padmé, the evidence was there in history. She was going to make a beautiful Empress, the standard of beauty for women throughout the galaxy. Already, Vader could see her on a throne, dressed as she pleased, without those silly clothes she'd had to wear as Queen of Naboo, and no ugly make-up on her perfect skin. She'd be dressed as she pleased, her serene beauty--

"Anakin!"

He registered Padmé trying to get his attention and opened his eyes. "What, my love?"

"Isn't...the Emperor expecting you?" She always paused before saying Palpatine's title, as though saying his name would contaminate her. He should stop her, force her to say it properly, but it amused him too much.

Vader stood and moved to the window. "He cancelled. He said that with all of the tragedies you're going through, I should remain close to you. I should be here for you in your grief. A shoulder to cry on after dear Ellé and Moteé's quite unfortunate accident."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sit back, heard her ask Threepio to go. Poor See-Threepio, he thought. Dismissed from the room any time anyone wished to have a conversation. He imagine Threepio and Artoo were as unhappy as droids could be with that turn. They were no longer privy to everything that went on anymore.

"Anakin, do you ever wonder if he had something to do with the accident?"

Vader blinked, turning to find her staring at him, quite serious in the ludicrous query. He gave a disbelieving laugh. "Why would he do that? What were they to him? Think about that Padmé. What were they? They were nothing."

"They weren't nothing," she argued with a sniffle. "They were living, breathing women."

"I meant to him, Padmé. Calm yourself." He rolled his eyes, impatient with these weepy moments that came upon her. "They meant nothing to him, I assure you. He is sympathetic for your loss and of your emotional state."

"Is he?"

Vader crossed his arms. "Of course he is. Why else would he suggest that your husband take time away from his new duties to tend to you?"

"Tend to me," she returned, shaking her head. "I can see to myself. I'm a grown woman, Anakin."

"I know that, my love. But you do need me. Whether you'll be adult and admit it or not. You need me more each day."

Padmé went quiet and he had the notion that she'd suddenly grasped a truth previously out of her reach. She turned her face away. "I need you," she whispered, then licked her lips and reached for a datapad. "I have to finish these reports. Would you get me something to drink please?"

She needed him. Padmé had finally acknowledged it. He went in search of refreshments, giving her time to think on that, to let it become firm in her mind. One more hurdle was jumped. Yes, she was going to be his and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

You need me more each day.

Of course, Padmé realized. That's what was happening. There was far more going on here than she'd thought. This went beyond Anakin's plans for them and into other territory completely. She was being made dependant upon him and wasn't sure if it was his doing or Palpatine's or even a bit of both.

The security measures Anakin had stepped up about the apartment were his, but the accident? With Ellé and Moteé gone, she was left with him and Dormé for companionship. He'd already compromised her trust in Dormé. What would be next? Her heart sinking, she outlined several other avenues that could be taken to solidify her dependence upon him and take away her freedom to act.

I have to get out of here. I have to leave before this apartment becomes my prison.

Her hands touched her belly. But it was too late to go now. She was too ungainly from pregnancy, unable to move with the quickness she'd need. She'd already tarried too long. How soon before the darkness inside Anakin eclipsed them both?

Outside the window, Coruscant twilight was tinged a deep red as night descended.