When Angels Weep

Chapter: 7

~~~~~~~~~~

Palpatine seethed with rage, hands fisted at his sides. He stared out his office window, watching yet not seeing the traffic. Who did Vader think he was, striking out like that? Presuming he could wound Palpatine of all people. He hated losing Thalia Makan. The woman had been instrumental in several little plots he'd had moving forward and her loss set his plans back. He hated having to find someone else to use when Thalia had been perfect. A waste of a nicely corrupted Senator.

How to make Vader pay for that death and realize his error?

He took several long deep breaths, eyes slipping shut, his mind calming, working through this problem and the myriad solutions that presented themselves. Ten, twenty courses of action, but which one would cause anguish to rise in Vader? Which one would push Anakin that much further from Vader? Which punishment fit the crime?

His eyes opened, lips stretching into a satisfied smirk. Of course. There were many systems that needed a reminder of who they were loyal to. Send Vader. Orders to kill those who refused to cooperate. All who refused to cooperate. Soldiers, men, women, children. Everyone. Make an example of cities, regions and entire planets.

Vader wanted to kill and so he shall. He would kill for the Empire.

Calmed now, Palpatine turned almost cheerfully from the window and sat at his desk. And now, to solve the problem of losing Thalia.

Oh, of course. He'd have to be patient, but then, when wasn't he?

~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin had come to meet her for an evening meal out. He'd insisted that she have a night out despite her protests that she'd rather just go back to the apartment and sleep for the next two days. Padmé tried to finish the last few items on her list for the day with Anakin watching her. For once though, he didn't seem impatient with her working.

"I approve of Bail Organa as an acquaintance," he said, stepping around behind her, his hands on her shoulders kneading. Despite herself, knots of tension disappeared under the sure touch. He could still work the tension from her shoulders and back, her true husband or not. He nudged her forward, sliding his hand down to reach the ever aching place on her lower back.

Padmé made a noise of pleasure as the ache lessened, leaning further, wondering what had possessed her to push herself today. She'd been awake so long in the night after Anakin had woken her that she was already exhausted and to stay here working as long as she had was crazy. She'd felt driven however, a need within her to accomplish as much as she could today.

"He's loyal and I believe Emperor Palpatine will take any friendships you have into consideration when he finally makes a decision regarding your accounts."

She didn't bother becoming excited about the prospect of having her accounts back in her control. It wasn't going to happen. Not just because of Palpatine, but because of Anakin. He was so caught up in doing what he thought was right for her that he wasn't going to give up control and let the accounts go. Like Palpatine and those emergency powers once granted to him, Anakin wasn't going to step back. He thought it was best that he had control and so with him it would stay.

The dictatorship brought home into her personal life.

Of course Anakin would approve of Bail as a friend. Bail was the husband of a queen and was himself an influential Senator, held in great esteem by many. Anakin was becoming more concerned with appearances as the days went by, greedily wanting more status symbols. He wanted them to move to a bigger, more opulent apartment, to dine with influential people, to begin living within the means they could afford. Padmé was well paid as a Senator and her accounts reflected her wise use of her credits over the years. They were certainly not destitute. He wanted to spend the credits as he pleased.

And he did.

Anakin was not content with life as it was even an hour ago. He wanted more, that unending always pulsing need that pulled at him until she wondered if their love would ever have be enough for him. It had begun that way, but would it always have ended up twisted about?

It saddened her immensely to realize that this trait was deeply ingrained in him.

I want more and I know I shouldn't.

Wasn't that what he'd once told her?

"Organa is a good influence, he and his wife both. I'm looking forward to meeting Breha. She sounds like a lovely woman. It's nice to see a man so much in love with his wife, don't you agree?"

The ache persisted, returning full force, and Padmé grunted, setting aside the last datapad she'd picked up. The ache localized and her lower belly contracted, rippling pain that took the breath from her. Her mouth opened. Her palms went flat on her desk, fingers spread out. She panted.

Anakin was immediately kneeling beside her, on his knees, putting a hand on her belly, voice concerned. "Padmé?"

"It's too early," she whispered, turning her head to look at him. She didn't want to see the stranger, not now, but she had to trust this man to see she was cared for. She had to....

Her Annie looked up at her, his hand stroking, soothing. "We can do this, Padmé. We're going to be fine." He gave her a small smile, the one that always made her believe he was right. They were going to be fine. Her Annie was here.

A whimper left her. She was afraid to move, to breath. Afraid that if she closed her eyes, her Annie would disappear. But she had to close her eyes, sobbing, then screaming. She couldn't hold in her cries.

He took charge as though this was a battle to be won, shouting out orders to her staff, seeing that she was taken to where she needed to be. By the time the pains were constant, Padmé was ready for it all to end. Anakin's fingers caressed her brow and he held her hand.

A glance confirmed he was still her Annie and she squeezed his hand, happy he was here with her at this moment. "Anakin, I love you."

More pain than Padmé had ever imagined there could be tore through her, ripping her in two.

~~~~~~~~~~

Too soon.

Anakin stood by his wife, trying to be reassuring and comforting to her when he was trembling inside. He could feel himself becoming lightheaded and had to remind himself to breathe. His fear for her and their children was a tide rising slowly, despite his efforts at calm. He swallowed hard. It was going to happen wasn't it? Now was the time.

No, it won't happen. These facilities are the best on Coruscant. She has the best care. Nothing is going to happen.

But he wasn't so certain of that.

He paused in touching her brow to wipe the sweat from his own. Sweat everywhere. He was drowning in it, clothes damp from it. His fingers shook wildly and Anakin had to clench his jaw tight to keep his lower lip from trembling. Images from his dreams flashed before his eyes, swam out to greet him.

Padmé, his sweet, lovely wife, was going to die and he wasn't strong enough to save her. He didn't even know how he'd go about it. Out of all the things he could do now with his new abilities, he still didn't know how he'd save her if something went wrong.

"Anakin," she said, glancing at him with a gentle smile. "I love you."

That was in his dream. Alarm rippled through him, held him in a tight, crushing embrace. It was happening like in his dream. No. Oh no. He heard her begin to scream....

Fear eclipsed him and he was sucked under it's tide, tumbled about the merciless waves.

When that tide receded, Vader was there, continuing to touch Padmé's brow and hold her hand. It was his right hand she grasped, the mechanical one. If it had been the flesh and blood one, he suspected her grip would have broken something. Dispassionately, he watched as she screamed and breathed, pushed and cried, waiting to see if this was indeed her end.

The first child was born. A smirk tugged his lips. A boy. He had a son.

The second child was born. A girl. As he'd seen in Padmé's medical records.

Healthy and wailing, both children. Padmé's grip lessened, slackened, but she was alive as well, turning her gaze to him, her sunny smile fading to solemnity as she stared into his eyes. Vader glanced at the babies. They needed names. He'd considered names for awhile now and he had the perfect ones picked out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Padmé opened her mouth to name them. The names she'd chosen would have pleased her Annie with the symbolism. Luke for the boy, meaning light. Their love had been a light in both their lives, a hope for a future together. Leia for the girl, meaning meadow. That day in the meadow had fully tipped her heart towards him, though she hadn't admitted it at the time.

She'd planned on discussing the names with him, but with Anakin not being himself, the opportunity had never risen.

She was already too late. Anakin was speaking, naming their children himself.

"Shmi for the girl, to remember my mother and...Anakin for the boy, after me. We'll call him Annie."

What could she do but nod consent? It wasn't like she could argue his naming of them without talking to her first since she'd been about to do the same thing. Shmi and little Annie. Her children.

Shmi was placed in her arms and Padmé's joy could not be taken from her even by the presence of this stranger. She held the tiny baby, marveling at how very small she was. Such a precious bundle in her arms. Padmé ran a finger over the little face. Shmi had Anakin's jaw, that determined set, and Padmé recognized the shape of her own eyes.

"Hello there Shmi," she whispered. The child sighed, snuggled to her and Padmé remembered reading somewhere that a newborn baby knows the sound of its mother's voice. She turned her head in time to see Annie being placed in Anakin's arms.

The baby was quiet, not making the same contented murmurs Shmi was making. Anakin looked down at him, the strangest wary expression on his face. It looked as though he couldn't make up his mind whether to smile or scowl. Padmé's heart contracted at the sight of the little baby held against him. She'd imagined Anakin holding their children so many times. The reality was unreal to her. She saw his stiff posture begin to relax, a gentle smile blossoming forth, tentative reaches of her Annie to consciousness. But then little Annie let out a scream and would not stop. The cries were piercing.

Anguish rolled across Anakin's face, his shoulders bowing, arms holding the child out. Tension returned to him. "Take him," he said, thrusting the baby back at the medical droid. The process was repeated, Padmé now taking little Annie and Anakin reaching for Shmi.

Shmi began wailing before he even touched her. He drew his hands back, eyes darting between the two children. His mouth opened and closed several times, his head shaking.

Anakin fled the room.

Padmé turned her eyes to the boy she now held. He was quiet for her, as Shmi had been. This boy looked like Anakin. She could see her husband in the face. Padmé sighed and handed her son back to the medical droid.

She was tired and needed to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Padmé was home, a basinet for each baby set up in their bedroom. Anakin knew she planned for the twins to eventually be put in the small room down the hall that had been Ellé's. She'd already made plans for the room, though the plans weren't nearly as elaborate as he'd have thought. She wanted simplicity for them. A change from the apartment itself. A few toys, things like that.

No new apartment for them, he guessed. She wanted to remain here.

Padmé was sleeping now, trying to get in some rest after being awake long hours with the twins. Dormé was currently carrying Shmi about in the main room as though she'd never seen a baby before in her life. She made cooing noises at Shmi, which seemed somewhat silly to Anakin, but Shmi appeared to like it, quiet in her arms.

Little Annie was asleep in his basinet. Anakin's gaze caressed the baby, lingered on features he'd decided had more of Padmé in them than himself. His son. He tilted his head to the side. Both children looked like Padmé in his opinion. Shmi was a copy of her mother, outspoken in her displeasure of anything, and Annie.... The boy appeared to have Padmé's slow simmering temper. Of course, time would tell what the babies were really like. He stood over the basinet for long minutes more before going to sit at Padmé's side as she slept.

Padmé hadn't needed saving. His dream had just been a dream. Dreams pass in time, Obi-Wan had once told him and this time, he'd been right. This dream had passed without coming to fruition.

What have I done?

The thought was barely completed when another arose in it's place.

You did what was right for her.

He warmed to that thought. He had, hadn't he? He'd done what was right to save her even if he hadn't needed the powers to save her right then. Right then. Perhaps the danger to her wasn't past yet. Perhaps the dream only meant that there was danger to her, not that she was going to die in a specific way. He'd have to keep a close watch on her, make certain she was out of any and all dangers.

"I won't lose you, Padmé," he said, reaching out to straighten the covers over her.

Vader stood and went in search of Dormé for their nightly strategy game. She'd be distracted by the baby and he looked forward to taking advantage of that distraction. One win was as good as another.

~~~~~~~~~~

Motherhood was not what Padmé had expected. It was late nights awake at all hours and little sleep during the day while trying to attend to everyday tasks. She had help from Dormé, thankfully. Without Dormé she didn't think she'd have been able to cope with twins. She hoped they'd begin sleeping through the night quickly and knew that the hope was a futile one. Padmé well remembered Sola's moans over her own children's sleep habits.

Padmé considered Shmi and Annie in turn. Already their personalities were showing through. Shmi was fiery tempered and Padmé would almost swear Shmi had an independent streak a planet wide. She was always in motion, even when asleep. Annie on the other hand was calmer. He would settle down in Padmé's arms and stare up at her with solemn eyes. He took longer to show displeasure, never the one to scream when hungry or when he needed changing. When he did let loose a howl, Padmé knew something was really wrong.

One week of motherhood and she could already see which child had inherited the traits she and Anakin carried.

The children quieted whenever Anakin stepped into the room, as though they sensed a dangerous predator in their presence and knew the need for caution. That quiet however, lasted only as long as he didn't try to pick them up or touch them.

Shmi screamed in Anakin's arms, her face turning bright red. She'd screamed so hard the previous night that she'd made herself throw up, which hadn't improved Anakin's increasingly foul mood any. He'd held Shmi out, her little body dangling from his hands, and shoved her towards Dormé, who'd taken her with a sympathetic turn to her brow.

Little Annie would whimper and twist about. Like now. Anakin's frustration was palpable in the air. He tried everything he could think of to calm Annie to no avail. The boy would not settle down like he did for Padmé. Carefully, he laid him in the basinet Dormé had brought out from the bedroom.

Padmé nursed Shmi and watched Anakin begin to pace, anger and hurt on his features. He paced until Shmi slowed in her feeding, his frustrations not lessening. If anything, Padmé could see them growing worse.

"They hate me, Padmé. I know they do."

"They're babies," she replied, setting Shmi to her shoulder and gently patting her back to induce a burp. "They don't know how to hate."

He turned his head, stare cold. "Then why do they cry whenever I hold them?"

Did it never occur to him that they sensed his walk with evil? The twins were Force sensitive. She'd overheard Palpatine congratulating Anakin on that. It had been nauseating to witness, Palpatine going on and on about how wonderful it was to see the Force strong in a family while Anakin puffed up his chest with pride. So lovely to feel the Force strong in two babies only days old.

Of course, how much was truth and how much simply Palpatine being his flattering self? It would be awhile yet before the twins could be officially tested.

"They cry at everything."

"No, they cry at me. Get it right, Padmé."

"Well don't look at me like that. It's not my fault."

He swallowed, ducked his head and suddenly, he was once more an anguished young man needing comfort. "I want to love them and I do, I really do. But I can't pick them up. What if that doesn't change? What if I can never pick them up? What kind of father will I be to them if I can't get near them?"

Padmé had no answer for him.

Anakin paused his strides beside the basinet, looking down into it. "I'm going out for awhile. Tell Dormé I don't feel like a game tonight."

He was gone in a minute and both Artoo and Threepio came from the hallway to help her.

~~~~~~~~~~

His presence had been requested. Bail didn't quite know what to make of Anakin Skywalker's invitation to visit Padmé and the newborns. While he'd planned to visit one of these days, likely with Mon Mothma to keep Skywalker's obvious jealous tendencies at bay, he hadn't planned on anything resembling a private visit. Skywalker had contacted him personally, insisting that Bail come by after work to see the twins and Padmé. Padmé was already missing her friends in the Senate, Anakin explained and she'd love to hear the latest news.

He wondered what Padmé's home life was like, considering Skywalker had her wrapped up tightly in that apartment. It was a difficult matter to try to speak with her on anything. Anakin had so many security measures implemented it was a wonder anyone saw Padmé at all.

Her replacement as Senator was in place, giving Padmé time to recover from giving birth. There were still things she'd need to do officially, as her service wasn't terminated in full for several more weeks, but she didn't have to be at the Senate building every day. She could be at home getting used to the hours newborns kept.

He shifted the present Breha had insisted he buy and take with him, hoping Padmé and Anakin would like it. It was two simple blankets, exquisitely embroidered by an artist Breha knew of. The names of the children had been added to the design by special order.

His wife was sorry she was unable to come to Coruscant after all, asking him to extend an invitation for Anakin and Padmé to bring the twins and come to Alderaan. Breha already knew Padmé personally, but Anakin only by reputation and what she'd seen on the HoloNet. She wished to meet the young man who'd caught Padmé's eye. He must be extraordinary, Breha had once murmured. Padmé would not fall in love with just any man.

Bail sighed, a frown worrying his brow. He'd pass on the invitation of course, but with Anakin's close tie to Palpatine, Bail was hesitant to have him on Alderaan at all. Keep the Empire out of his home as long as possible.

Threepio greeted him at the lift, showed him in and left to find refreshments. Bail noticed Anakin doing something to the front of an astromech droid. He was frowning, muttering something low under his breath and not appearing at all pleased with his task. The younger man quickly finished his work and straightened. The droid left the room, making low, almost angry sounding whistles all the while. Anakin directed a dark frown after the droid, then came to Bail, quickly changing his expression to something more welcoming.

"Glad you could come, Bail. Padmé will be out in a minute. She and Dormé decided a few minutes ago that the twins needed different outfits or some such silly thing. Please, sit."

Bail handed over the present and took a seat . "How is fatherhood treating you so far," he inquired with polite and genuine interest in the answer. Some day soon, he hoped he and Breha would be successful in adopting a baby girl. It would be nice to hear Anakin's thoughts before hand so he could compare his own experiences when they occurred. Bail didn't allow himself to think it'd never occur. Some day, he and Breha would be parents. He had a good feeling that day was not far off.

Anakin looked very anxious, sitting across from him. Bail had no trouble remembering how young the other man actually was. His youth was a shining beacon from him despite how the war had aged him. Was that nervousness as well perhaps? Yes, Bail thought it might possibly be. Was this man who'd fallen to the Dark side actually nervous over an evening of conversation?

Bail didn't let the idea make him see Anakin Skywalker as anything other than what he knew him to be. Palpatine was cunning and he suspected Anakin was too. No matter how charming or anxious or nervous Anakin appeared, it could well be an act. Bail would never discount what Yoda had told him.

"Babies don't sleep when they should," Anakin said in all seriousness. "They sleep the day through and then are awake crying all night. They are creatures of need. Food, bathing, changing. Padmé amazes me. She makes it look effortless, juggling both babies at once...." He trailed off, glance falling on the hallway.

Padmé and Dormé appeared, each carrying a baby.

Bail stood as they approached, giving Padmé a social kiss on her cheek and a half-hug. "You're looking radiant, Padmé." She was too, even if he could tell at a glance that she was about to drop from fatigue. Motherhood may have made her radiant, but it had also exhausted her.

"Thank you," she replied with a raised brow, as though she thought he was merely being kind. She turned the baby she carried so he could see it. "This is our girl, Shmi."

A pretty baby and Bail remembered the name had been Anakin's mother's. It was a nice way to remember the woman, he thought. A positive beginning from what had been a tragic ending. Had Padmé insisted on it or Anakin? The baby was lifted his way, an invitation to hold her and he accepted that invitation.

"She's lighter than I thought she'd be," he remarked once the child was in his arms.

"They hardly weigh anything," Anakin contributed, still holding the package. He didn't seem inclined to take either child, remaining in his seat as Padmé took Shmi back and let Bail hold Anakin -- little Annie.

'Little Annie', as though it was his full name and he wasn't named after his father.

The children were remarkably quiet, barely murmuring at all, which surprised Bail somewhat. He'd never seen babies so quiet unless they were sleeping.

"You'll have your own child soon enough," Padmé said with a smile that held so much certainty to it that he believed her. She sat beside Anakin. Dormé took Annie, sitting in a chair a ways away. There, she rocked and hummed softly to the boy.

"Breha is becoming disheartened in our efforts to adopt and I must admit I have my moments as well. It seems nothing goes right in the process for us. We want a girl. Nothing wrong with boys, but we'd prefer a girl and there are never baby girls. Or if there are, the birth parents change their minds."

"That must be frustrating, not having a child when you wish it so." Anakin said, putting an arm around his wife and a hand on the blanket wrapping Shmi. Bail wondered at the smugness in his tone and decided to ignore it.

"It can be. Now, a slight change of topic. I should express my regrets to you both. Breha had an emergency at home and she won't be coming to Coruscant after all, not for months anyway. I'm afraid our dinner as two couples will have to happen another time. She was very disappointed. I know she was looking forward to meeting you Anakin. However," he continued, "she has extended an invitation for you to visit us on Alderaan. You would, of course, stay with us."

Shmi began to squirm, making tiny noises that indicated an outburst of cries was soon to come. Anakin removed his arm from Padmé, picking up the present again and turning it this way and that. "We'll have to plan a trip, won't we Padmé? But it won't be for awhile. I can't get away for the next few months. Emperor Palpatine has my time scheduled out exactly so. There are matters I must attend to as well."

Bail nodded. He knew very well what Anakin was saying, could see it clearly. There would be no trip to Alderaan. Padmé would be going nowhere. They would be acquaintances on Coruscant, but anything more would not occur. "I'm sure we can work out a time suitable for all of us," he said, wondering if Padmé had noticed the crux of Anakin's answer. He watched Padmé rock Shmi, brow furrowing with her efforts to calm the child, and changed the subject again. "I hope you like the gift. Breha told me what to buy. She knew what she wanted us to give you."

The gift was opened, Padmé taking time from soothing her baby girl to run a finger along the embroidery. "Bail, these are lovely."

"It's all done by hand."

Conversation dwindled and Bail was glad to be away from the apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~

His children liked Bail Organa. His son liked Bail Organa. Vader suppressed a snort after the man had gone, tossing the prettily embroidered blankets aside without a care where they fell. His own children wouldn't lie quiet and content in his arms, but they'd take to a stranger? It was citrus juices poured over an open wound, stinging. It was insulting and yet Padmé claimed the children didn't know how to hate.

She was wrong. They knew how.

Shmi would not be calmed. He knew the routine by now. His wife would check to see if the baby was wet, then try to burp her. When that didn't work, she'd rock her, standing to move about the apartment. Only when those things failed would Padmé consider undoing her bodice to feed her.

Vader was in no mood for the long routine tonight. "Feed her already. You know she's a bottomless pit where her stomach is concerned." Behind him, he heard Dormé snicker, his mood souring further. He gritted his teeth, keeping his back to the handmaiden. "What's so funny, Dormé," he managed in a pleasant tone.

"You sound like every new father I've been reading about. A little grumpy and needing rest just as much as the new mother."

"I'm getting enough rest, thank you." He closed his eyes, irritation rising as he realized how petulantly the words had come out. Dormé snickered again. Taking a deep breath, he reopened his eyes. Padmé was undoing her bodice, lips compressed tightly together. Shmi latched on, cries ending.

They would though, wouldn't they, he thought. A little difficult to cry when you're eating. He watched for a moment, but even the sight of the child peacefully feeding at Padmé's breast would not calm him tonight.

He stood. "Artoo, you're with me," he called out. He had to get out of the apartment, if only for a few hours. "I'll be back in awhile." Vader didn't both telling the women where he was going. Why should he? What business was it of theirs where he went?