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padmeonpaper2009-05-03 04:48 pm
padme_kenobi) wrote in padmeonpaper2009-05-03 04:48 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: "To Ignite the Stars" (Star Wars, Obi-Wan/Padmé, 20/?)
Title: An Ounce of Reassurance
Author:padme_kenobi
Previous Chapters: Can be read here.
Characters/Pairings: Obi-Wan/Padmé, Anakin, Mon Mothma
Word Count: 4,902
Rating: PG
Summary: “What about death in childbirth?” Anakin asked quietly.
Author's Notes: I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, since I'm practically falling asleep at the switch right now, but a very enthusiastic response from onejedi_em after I casually mentioned I'd finished it convinced me otherwise. XD Any mistakes in formatting resulting from my fatigue will be fixed asap tomorrow, I promise. As for the chapter, it's a lot more canon-based as we're starting to get quite heavily into the Revenge of the Sith stuff now. This, alas, will be one of the last fluffy chapters for a little while. It was fun to write even though it seemed to take a looooong time.
Anakin strode quickly down the Temple hallway. He paid no attention to the Jedi who passed him, or smiled at him, or bowed in respect. The story of Palpatine’s rescue was on every HoloNet channel in the galaxy today, and there were long feature articles about how much of a hero he was. Ordinarily he would have happily basked in the glow of such coverage, but not today. Not when every second that passed meant Padmé had one less second to live.
He was quite convinced now that this was what the dream had meant. After leaving his room, he’d gone to one of the Temple’s meditation rooms and attempted to seek guidance from the Force. Meditating was something that Anakin rarely did, because he considered himself so much a part of the Force anyway. Obi-Wan had bugged him about it almost constantly when they had been Master and Padawan. But today, now, Anakin felt he needed the Force’s help. Or Obi-Wan’s. Or Yoda’s. Or even Palpatine’s, even though the latter’s words would be worth more moral support than they would actual assistance.
The Force had not yielded any clues, other than that the dream promised almost certain death for Padmé and possibly her babies. Anakin had tried to speak to Obi-Wan when the latter returned to the Temple, but Obi-Wan was late for a mission briefing and could not spare the necessary time.
Perhaps if you’d spent a little less time in bed with Padmé this morning you might have arrived here on schedule, Anakin thought acidly as he watched his Master’s retreating back. Then he instantly berated himself for the jealousy and hurt in that statement. He should be happy for Obi-Wan, who had always wanted to be a father. Anakin also had to admit that he was excited to see — and perhaps be a sort of uncle to — the children of his two most favourite people in the galaxy. He thought of the dream he’d had before the intrusion of the nightmare, and smiled. In his mind’s eye he could vividly see himself spending shore leaves in the Lake Country with Padmé and the twins, teaching them how to ride shaaks and levitate shuura fruit and wrestling with them …
But only if he could save their mother. The image could not be complete without Padmé. He could not be complete without Padmé. And he knew it would be very difficult for Obi-Wan to lose her.
I’m doing this for Obi-Wan, Anakin told himself, and headed resolutely towards Yoda’s meditation chamber.
A few moments later, however, he was feeling less reassured. Yoda sat on the circular seat in deep contemplation, fingers laced together. “Premonitions … premonitions, hmm. These visions you have …”
“They are of pain. Suffering. Death,” Anakin told him.
“Yourself you speak of, or someone you know?” Yoda asked.
Anakin hesitated. He wasn’t sure exactly how much the Jedi Master knew about Obi-Wan and Padmé’s relationship, nor whether Obi-Wan had informed Yoda of Padmé’s pregnancy. So he decided to play it safe.
“Someone …” The sentence trailed awkwardly.
“Close to you?” prompted Yoda.
“Yes,” Anakin admitted.
“Careful you must be when sensing the future, Anakin,” the Jedi Master warned. “The fear of loss is a path to the dark side.”
Don’t give me this kriffing Dark Side stuff! I need to know how stop this from happening, not how I shouldn’t turn to the Dark Side! Anakin wanted to shout. But he didn’t. Instead he said, “I won’t let these visions come true, Master Yoda.”
“Death is a natural part of life,” Yoda reminded him. “Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not. Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is.”
Anakin forced himself to stay calm. This was not the sort of advice he’d been hoping for. “What must I do?”
Yoda’s response was perhaps the most unhelpful of all. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”
No! I could never! Padmé keeps me centred! She keeps me whole! Anakin’s mind screamed, forgetting all about helping Obi-Wan. In that moment there was only Padmé and the promise that she would die, the promise that the children would die with her, and the knowledge that he needed her.
That was the truth of it.
He needed her.
Anakin needed her calming influence, her unconditional acceptance, her uncritical appraisal. He needed her love. Padmé could not offer him romantic love. He knew she could not, and he had come to terms with that particular fact a long time ago. Anakin drew a certain amount of love from Obi-Wan, but it was the kind that a father would give a son, or a brother would offer a brother. Padmé, though, loved him for the man he was and the man he hoped he could be.
How could he stand to lose that love? Worse, how could he stand to lose it, knowing that he could have done something to prevent its death?
I can’t. And I won’t, Anakin promised himself as he strode from Yoda’s chamber.
His mind was so focused on that promise that he barely noticed he had arrived at the mission briefing room until the meeting’s participants, filing out of the room, greeted him. Hurriedly Anakin pulled himself together and descended the short staircase to Obi-Wan, who was shutting down a series of holographics.
“You missed the report on the Outer Rim Sieges,” the latter greeted him.
“I was held up,” said Anakin honestly. “I have no excuse.”
Obi-Wan folded his arms. “In short, they are going very well. Saleucami has fallen, and Master Vos has moved his troops to Boz Pity.”
“What’s wrong, then?” Anakin asked.
The older man sighed, starting towards the door. “The Senate is expected to vote more executive powers to the Chancellor today.”
Anakin arched an eyebrow. “Well, that can only mean less deliberating and more action. Is that bad? It will make it easier for us to end this war.”
They walked on into the sunlit hallway, Obi-Wan stroking his beard softly. “Anakin, be careful of your friend Palpatine,” he said finally.
“Be careful of what?”
“He has requested your presence,” Obi-Wan explained.
This came as quite a surprise. Although Anakin shared what he thought of as a close friendship with the Chancellor, he was distinctly unused to being consulted on matters of government. “What for?”
“He would not say.”
“He didn’t inform the Jedi Council?” Anakin said incredulously. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“All of this is unusual, and it’s making me feel uneasy,” Obi-Wan sighed. “You’re probably aware that relations between the Council and the Chancellor are … strained.”
Anakin’s tone was cautious as he replied, “I know the Council has grown wary of the Chancellor’s power. Mine also, for that matter. Aren’t we all working together to save the Republic? I mean, why all this distrust?”
“The Force grows dark, Anakin, and we are all affected by it.” Obi-Wan paused to gaze out a sunny window. Across the tangle of buildings, Five Hundred Republica arched into the morning sky. “Be wary of your feelings.”
“You’re talking about my dream, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Perhaps,” admitted Obi-Wan. “I must confess I’m not entirely sure of its meaning —”
“What?” Anakin interrupted. “Its meaning? Padmé is going to die! That meaning seemed pretty clear to me!”
“Yes, but something about it just does not seem right to me,” Obi-Wan persisted. “In these times we are all subjected to the influences of the dark side. The mind can act in mysterious ways when presented with dark currents. My concern for you at this time is to keep your mind clear and submit to the will of the Force.”
“But … but … how can you even say that?” Anakin choked out. “You love Padmé! How can you just stand there and let her die?”
“Anakin, I know very well how frightening that dream must have been for you. It was frightening to be awoken in the middle of the night and be told you’d had it, never mind the actual experience. However, need I remind you that there is absolutely no evidence whatsoever that Padmé’s life is in danger? From what she has told me, the pregnancy has gone well. She’s very healthy, despite being quite ill early on. About the only difficulties she experiences are some minor back pain and, of course, a lot of fatigue. According to her medical droid everything is fine. So why is there any reason to suspect that she might die?”
Anakin balled his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching them. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know. I just know that whenever I have these dreams — people die. Or bad things happen.”
He suddenly felt very young.
Obi-Wan sighed, looking again towards 500 Republica. “I wish there was something I could say to help you. But I’m not sure if anything more than the basic facts will be a comfort.”
“Master, it’s — it’s all right,” Anakin said, hastily trying to pull himself together. “I just worry for her, that’s all. Padmé is one of my best friends.”
“She’s one of mine as well.” Both men were silent for several moments, lost in their separate thoughts. Then Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Well, we’d best be on our way to Padmé’s apartment. We’re going to be late.”
***
At that moment, Padmé herself was clearing off her small coffee table and arranging couch cushions in preparation for the medical droid’s arrival. Although she felt more comfortable on the large veranda that also served as a landing pad, she had requested that the droid, Obi-Wan and Anakin meet her in the enclosed part of her apartment for privacy reasons. The shades would be pulled and a security lock in place. Padmé still did not feel comfortable with the possibility of her pregnancy becoming public knowledge, even though she understood that it was likely inevitable once Obi-Wan announced his intention to leave the Jedi Order. But for now, what the gossipmongers did not know couldn’t hurt them.
Her comlink chimed, and Padmé felt her stomach clench instinctively. She had grown to hate that sound, because it so often heralded the news that Obi-Wan would be at the Temple longer than he’d anticipated. She would never have complained to him, however, as their relationship had also taught her that nothing was more important for Obi-Wan than his duty to the Jedi. It was one of the reasons she loved him.
Resigned, she activated her comlink and was surprised to see the thin blue form of Mon Mothma spring to life before her.
“Padmé, greetings,” Mon said, smiling warmly. “How have you been keeping?”
“Quite well, thank you,” Padmé replied. “And you? How’s Lily?”
“Energetic and happy. Thanks for your concern. Would you believe that her favourite things to eat now are green food rations?”
Padmé laughed. “Is that so? I guess she must have taken me more seriously than I thought.”
“She must,” Mon agreed. “I can’t say as it bothers me, though. She never was a fan of them before, and thanks to you it’s my belief she’s a lot healthier.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Padmé said. “But I’m sure you didn’t contact me to discuss Lily’s dietary habits. What’s going on?”
Mon’s face instantly became serious. “No, I didn’t. Padmé, I must ask you — are you able to speak privately at the moment? No security, no droids, no other personnel in proximity to you?”
Padmé glanced around, though she knew she was quite alone. Her handmaidens and security were all on the lower levels, and C-3PO had been sent to her landing pad to greet the Jedi when they arrived. “To my knowledge there’s no one else around. Why all the secrecy?”
She was used to speaking of sensitive affairs, but all of her staff had signed confidentiality agreements and had never betrayed her. So she was puzzled as to why Mon might insist on solitude.
Next moment, Padmé had her answer. “What I wish to talk with you about is … well, of an extremely sensitive nature,” Mon explained. “Even beyond what priority security clearance would cover. I want to be absolutely sure we will not be overheard.”
“Understood,” replied Padmé. “You have my assurances.”
“Thank you.” Mon paused, as though gathering her thoughts. “During the war, it has come to my attention, as I’m sure it has to yours, that Chancellor Palpatine has been passing a number of — let’s call them unusual — bills of late. Have you seen the docket for tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Padmé said. “In point of fact that’s exactly what I was working on this morning. I had to leave the Senate early for personal reasons, but I’ve already submitted my objections to three of the major bills that will be discussed.”
“As have I. But … a small group of Senators and I have recently been considering the possibility that simple objections may not be enough,” Mon said gently. “They are made, noted, and then passed over completely. No one — least of all Palpatine, who claims to be so committed to democracy — appears to be able to do anything to counter this trend. So it is time to do something.”
Padmé bit her lip. “I’m not sure I follow. What can be done?”
“I need your help, Padmé,” Mon said in such an honest, open tone that her friend was shocked. “I am a leading member of a coalition that is looking into … alternate solutions … to political negotiations.”
“Alternate solutions?” Padmé repeated. “Surely you don’t mean violent solutions?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that,” insisted Mon, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. “Petitions, formal complaints, methods of that sort. Motions that cannot be overlooked. Our primary objective is peace, I promise you that.”
“So what are you requesting of me?” Padmé asked.
“Just that you come to a meeting tomorrow,” Mon replied. “In Bail Organa’s office. Bail will be there, and Fang Zar, and others. They form the bedrock of our coalition. So will you, if you agree to join with us. The meeting is to discuss the methods which we feel would be most effective, as well as what we wish to achieve. You needn’t commit to anything, not at this moment.”
Padmé nodded. “I understand. I will be there.”
She barely had time to wonder at the agreement before C-3PO tottered into the room. “Mistress Padmé,” he exclaimed, “might I present two most honoured guests? Master Kenobi and Master Anakin have arrived!”
“Thank you, Threepio. Tell them to come up. Mon?” Padmé said into the comlink. “I have business to attend to at the moment, but I’ll be there tomorrow in Bail’s office. I promise you that.”
“Thank you, Padmé. See you then.” And the small form of her friend vanished.
Clicking off her comlink, Padmé pondered what she had just been told. Clearly, there were others who had begun to ask the same questions as she about the Chancellor’s supposed “democracy,” and she knew it was usually better for small groups to be united politically as opposed to a lone voice calling uselessly in the wind. Yet Padmé was equally puzzled about what precisely could be achieved. She had tried to voice her objections. She had tried to vote against the anti-democratic motions in hopes that her efforts might be noticed and discussed. Neither approach had worked. Perhaps a petition signed by a large number of Senators might carry more weight, but with Palpatine’s Senatorial supermajority, it might be difficult or impossible to put together a big enough group to have an impact. And while the idea of the petition was better than anything they had come up with so far, it also presupposed that Mon and her coalition could in fact convince enough Senators to add their names. There was not only the problem of the supermajority but also that those who openly opposed Palpatine tended to vanish suddenly and without explanation. Fear could be a powerful deterrent.
She was so lost in these thoughts that she barely heard Threepio totter back up the staircase, or the quiet murmurs of Anakin and Obi-Wan as they ascended with him. It took another reminder from the golden droid that their “honoured visitors” had arrived for Padmé to look up.
When she did, the sight that met her eyes made her smile widely. They stood in the doorway, her two best friends in the galaxy, grinning and laughing and joking. How she had missed them! There was no doubt in her mind that their time at the front had changed them. But they were Jedi, and so they did not show it.
“Darling,” Obi-Wan smiled, and held out his arms. A moment later Padmé was enveloped in them, kissing him softly and guiding one of his hands to her belly to feel the children kick. Cognizant of Anakin, however, she soon let go.
“Ani,” Padmé said, and hugged him too (though the gesture was one of friendship only). “Thank you so much for coming. This wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Me, miss out on a chance to start teaching my Master’s kids to be troublemakers? Not a chance,” Anakin grinned.
“Oh, no, we’ll have none of that,” said Obi-Wan as they made their way to the couch. “My children are going to be the best-behaved younglings in the galaxy. Count on it.”
“With a father like you I don’t doubt it,” Anakin returned. “That’s why it’s my job to show them how to make trouble.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You’re such a bad influence. Trying to pollute young minds before they’re even born.”
Anakin snickered. “Well like I said, they’re not going to get any of that from you if I leave them in your hands. They’ve gotta have at least one mentor in the art of troublemaking, and unless Padmé has something up her sleeve …”
“I assure you, I don’t,” Padmé told him, lowering herself onto the couch and leaning back against it. “I’ll have my hands full just taking care of them. Never mind teaching them to be troublemakers. I think that should be your department, Ani.”
“See?” Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. “Even Padmé agrees. These kids need a bad influence. I am a bad influence. It’s a Force-made match.”
Padmé’s eyelids drooped, but she was smiling. “You’ve been outvoted, darling.”
“I guess I have,” Obi-Wan chuckled.
“Pardon me,” came a voice from behind them, and they turned to see Padmé’s medical droid entering the room. “Senator Amidala, I am here for your holoimaging session.”
“Yes, M6-D8.” Padmé stood. “Two additional people will be observing the session today, if that’s all right. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my partner and the father of the children, and Anakin Skywalker, a very dear friend.”
“Of course,” the droid said mechanically. “May I begin setup?”
“Please.”
Padmé lay back on the couch while the droid took out the imaging equipment and scanners it would need. Anakin and Obi-Wan hovered nearby, unsure of what their role should be.
“Are you feeling all right, can I get you anything?” Obi-Wan asked, anxiously smoothing Padmé’s hair back from her cheeks.
Padmé chuckled. “I’m all right, darling, really! Just tired. You would be too if you had to lug around an extra twenty-five pounds on a daily basis.”
“Fatigue is an extremely common symptom, occurring in ninety-five point seven percent of all human pregnancies,” the medical droid put in.
“What about death in childbirth?” Anakin asked quietly.
All heads, mechanical and otherwise, turned to him.
“I mean … Padmé told me it’s really rare, and I believe her, but — some people probably still die, right?” he continued awkwardly.
“With respect, sir, the death of a human female in childbirth has not been recorded for some years now on Core Worlds,” M6-D8 replied. “Medical technology has advanced to the point where we are able to predict nearly all possible complications, and work to alleviate them before the offspring is ready to arrive.”
“Nearly all possible complications?” Anakin repeated. “Does that mean that there are some you don’t catch?”
“No, the discrepancy is there to account for the measurable mortality rates on Outer Rim worlds such as Tatooine,” explained the droid. “When an expectant mother is seen regularly by competent medical technicians such as myself, the risk is so unremarkable as to be unworthy of consideration.”
“You see, Ani?” Padmé smiled. “I didn’t tell you those same things last night just to make you feel better. It’s the truth.”
“What about Senator Amidala?” pressed Anakin. “Does she have any risk factors?”
“I am unsure of the purpose of this line of questioning,” said M6-D8 as it spread a transparent oil on Padmé’s exposed belly. “I have already indicated to you that the risk factors in general for a being in Senator Amidala’s condition are negligible. I would think that the level of reassurance provided would be more than sufficient —”
“Anakin has been having nightmares,” Obi-Wan interrupted. “Bad dreams, about Senator Amidala’s death in childbirth. He cares for her very much and I’m sure he is only trying to express his concern for a friend’s well-being.”
Anakin shot his Master a grateful smile.
“Then allow me to assure you that she is completely healthy.” The droid pressed several buttons on a scanner. “Ordinarily, the presence of twins might be a significant risk factor, but the Senator is in good health and has been taking excellent care of herself. The remainder of her gestation and the delivery should be quite uncomplicated. Now, if you will direct your attention to the screen on the table, you ought to be able to see the children. Please alert me if the screen resolution requires adjustment.”
That stopped the discussion in its tracks. Padmé, Obi-Wan and Anakin squinted at the screen, at first unable to see anything but blurry darkness. Then, a sudden flurry of movement made them gasp.
“Look!” Anakin whispered. “Look, is that his foot?”
A tiny appendage was waving furiously backwards and forwards. Then the camera swung to the left, and it was revealed to be an arm in front of an infant’s face. The baby batted at something beyond the observers’ field of vision, and then stuffed a tiny thumb into its mouth.
“Can you feel that?” Obi-Wan asked in a hushed tone.
“Some of it,” Padmé replied. “I can feel their kicks and punches. And sometimes they get the hiccups.”
Anakin laughed. “Really? Padmé, that’s … that’s amazing.”
“Not when you’re trying to fall asleep after what seems like your five thousandth trip to the refresher.” Padmé softened as she gazed at the children kicking and squirming on the screen. “But you’re right. It is … absolutely amazing.”
“May I …?” Anakin asked hesitantly, moving towards the couch. At a nod from Padmé, he slid his hand gently over her belly to the spot where a baby’s foot kicked insistently. “Wow. Do you know yet whether they’re boys or girls?”
“Not, not yet,” Padmé said. “I’ve forbidden M6-D8 to tell me. The element of surprise is … well, it’s fun, I guess. Although I suspect Obi-Wan knows. But I’ve sworn him to secrecy.”
“How would he know? Does he have holoscanner vision and just never bothered to tell me? It sure would’ve come in handy on a few of those missions, Master.”
Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, Anakin, I’m afraid not. There have been several times where I’ve been able to establish a Force connection with the babies, and I’ve learned certain things. Such as several distinct differences —”
“Don’t you dare, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Padmé exclaimed. “If you want to tell him, you both can go into the next room. I don’t want to know.”
“Darling, that’s not what I was going to say.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “Just that I’ve detected certain differences which lead me to believe I may know their genders. That’s all. I’m not going to tell you if you don’t wish me to.”
“Good,” she smiled.
Anakin was looking puzzled. “A Force connection? What do you mean?”
“It’s a trick Qui-Gon taught me,” explained Obi-Wan. “It’s essentially very similar to making oneself part of the Living Force, which, of course, Jedi are encouraged to do on a regular basis. But rather than uniting with the entire Force, you simply enter one very small part of it. I can reach into the Force and sense the children, almost become part of them, if I wish.” He softened, stroking Padmé’s cheek lightly. “It’s truly an amazing experience.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Anakin said. “I’ll have to try it sometime.”
“Excuse me? Sirs, madam?” M6-D8 spoke up. “Senator Amidala, I have taken all the necessary measurements and performed the required tests. The babies appear healthy and strong and are gaining weight at the required rate. Unless there are additional tests you would like to request, I will leave you with the latest holoimage and expect to see you once again in approximately seven sunups. Understood?”
“Yes, thank you,” replied Padmé, straightening her dress and sitting up. “Thank you. Ani, do you have any other questions?”
The Knight suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. “No — no, it’s okay. Really. Thanks, Emsix.”
“Of course,” said the droid. It began to pack up its equipment.
“Anakin, are you sure you’re okay?” Padmé’s gaze drifted to his hand, which seemed to have grown suddenly tense against her stomach. But suddenly she was sure she had imagined it, for he was caressing it gently, following the kicks of the children.
And a moment later, the concerns had fled her mind. Obi-Wan was clasping her hand, kissing her fingers. Anakin was gazing at the babies’ holoimage and trying to decide which child looked like Obi-Wan and which like Padmé.
Padmé herself was perfectly contented, her two most favourite people next to her. She could think of nowhere else she would rather have been.
PERSONAL RECORD: PADME AMIDALA
Hello, little ones. I’m writing to you in bed, with your father next to me, and the apartment long quiet. The busy cityscape of Coruscant marches on outside my window, as always. It astonishes me how many beings are awake and going about their business at this late hour. Then again, some do not require sleep, so I suppose I’m speaking from my own narrow perspective on that point. The blinds are closed and I’m feeling, for once in my life, like things might actually be going right for a change.
The holoimaging session was a huge success. I don’t know if it was some trick of the Force, or if you two are perhaps more aware than I give you credit for, but you were both positioned perfectly. I have never seen Obi-Wan and Anakin more in awe. I know firsthand what a miracle this is, but having had a few months to get used to the miracle has jaded me somewhat. The open-eyed wonder on their faces was really quite a thing to witness. It reminded me how anxious I am for you both to get here, how much I love Obi-Wan, and how worth it every bit of nausea and dizziness and all the other symptoms have been.
I must confess, however, that I’m still concerned about Anakin. I’ve always had a fairly good intuition when it comes to interpreting people’s thoughts and feelings. Obi-Wan would probably attribute this to my latent Force sensitivity, but I prefer not to think of it that way. I just … I don’t know if I can really explain this adequately. It’s almost like Anakin is still afraid, but doesn’t want to reveal his fear because he wishes to appear strong. Possibly he is also concerned about worrying Obi-Wan and I. If I had a choice in the matter I would ask him just to talk to us about his fears. I’m not sure if he would, though.
Tomorrow I have that mysterious meeting with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. I won’t say much more about it here in case this personal record is somehow intercepted by the wrong eyes. But I will admit to being very curious about what they have in mind. I understand their concerns, though I’m not sure what they hope to accomplish. In these turbulent times we are all judged by the company we keep and by our actions with that company. I wish it were not so, but it is.
Seeing you today, my darlings, reminded me of just how far I am willing to go to achieve peace. I would be foolish not to admit that. It is amazing, but not really surprising, the lengths to which beings will go when they realize that the affairs of the galaxy might negatively affect their offspring. That is certainly the position in which I now find myself. I could never condone violence, and I still cannot condone the tactics of the Separatists. But now I want so desperately for this war to end so that your father and I can raise you in a safe place. And if the only way to do that is to begin the pursuit of alternate means, so be it.
Perhaps that, in the end, is why wars are fought.
Everyone just wants to be safe.
Author:
padme_kenobiPrevious Chapters: Can be read here.
Characters/Pairings: Obi-Wan/Padmé, Anakin, Mon Mothma
Word Count: 4,902
Rating: PG
Summary: “What about death in childbirth?” Anakin asked quietly.
Author's Notes: I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, since I'm practically falling asleep at the switch right now, but a very enthusiastic response from one
jedi_em after I casually mentioned I'd finished it convinced me otherwise. XD Any mistakes in formatting resulting from my fatigue will be fixed asap tomorrow, I promise. As for the chapter, it's a lot more canon-based as we're starting to get quite heavily into the Revenge of the Sith stuff now. This, alas, will be one of the last fluffy chapters for a little while. It was fun to write even though it seemed to take a looooong time.Anakin strode quickly down the Temple hallway. He paid no attention to the Jedi who passed him, or smiled at him, or bowed in respect. The story of Palpatine’s rescue was on every HoloNet channel in the galaxy today, and there were long feature articles about how much of a hero he was. Ordinarily he would have happily basked in the glow of such coverage, but not today. Not when every second that passed meant Padmé had one less second to live.
He was quite convinced now that this was what the dream had meant. After leaving his room, he’d gone to one of the Temple’s meditation rooms and attempted to seek guidance from the Force. Meditating was something that Anakin rarely did, because he considered himself so much a part of the Force anyway. Obi-Wan had bugged him about it almost constantly when they had been Master and Padawan. But today, now, Anakin felt he needed the Force’s help. Or Obi-Wan’s. Or Yoda’s. Or even Palpatine’s, even though the latter’s words would be worth more moral support than they would actual assistance.
The Force had not yielded any clues, other than that the dream promised almost certain death for Padmé and possibly her babies. Anakin had tried to speak to Obi-Wan when the latter returned to the Temple, but Obi-Wan was late for a mission briefing and could not spare the necessary time.
Perhaps if you’d spent a little less time in bed with Padmé this morning you might have arrived here on schedule, Anakin thought acidly as he watched his Master’s retreating back. Then he instantly berated himself for the jealousy and hurt in that statement. He should be happy for Obi-Wan, who had always wanted to be a father. Anakin also had to admit that he was excited to see — and perhaps be a sort of uncle to — the children of his two most favourite people in the galaxy. He thought of the dream he’d had before the intrusion of the nightmare, and smiled. In his mind’s eye he could vividly see himself spending shore leaves in the Lake Country with Padmé and the twins, teaching them how to ride shaaks and levitate shuura fruit and wrestling with them …
But only if he could save their mother. The image could not be complete without Padmé. He could not be complete without Padmé. And he knew it would be very difficult for Obi-Wan to lose her.
I’m doing this for Obi-Wan, Anakin told himself, and headed resolutely towards Yoda’s meditation chamber.
A few moments later, however, he was feeling less reassured. Yoda sat on the circular seat in deep contemplation, fingers laced together. “Premonitions … premonitions, hmm. These visions you have …”
“They are of pain. Suffering. Death,” Anakin told him.
“Yourself you speak of, or someone you know?” Yoda asked.
Anakin hesitated. He wasn’t sure exactly how much the Jedi Master knew about Obi-Wan and Padmé’s relationship, nor whether Obi-Wan had informed Yoda of Padmé’s pregnancy. So he decided to play it safe.
“Someone …” The sentence trailed awkwardly.
“Close to you?” prompted Yoda.
“Yes,” Anakin admitted.
“Careful you must be when sensing the future, Anakin,” the Jedi Master warned. “The fear of loss is a path to the dark side.”
Don’t give me this kriffing Dark Side stuff! I need to know how stop this from happening, not how I shouldn’t turn to the Dark Side! Anakin wanted to shout. But he didn’t. Instead he said, “I won’t let these visions come true, Master Yoda.”
“Death is a natural part of life,” Yoda reminded him. “Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not. Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is.”
Anakin forced himself to stay calm. This was not the sort of advice he’d been hoping for. “What must I do?”
Yoda’s response was perhaps the most unhelpful of all. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”
No! I could never! Padmé keeps me centred! She keeps me whole! Anakin’s mind screamed, forgetting all about helping Obi-Wan. In that moment there was only Padmé and the promise that she would die, the promise that the children would die with her, and the knowledge that he needed her.
That was the truth of it.
He needed her.
Anakin needed her calming influence, her unconditional acceptance, her uncritical appraisal. He needed her love. Padmé could not offer him romantic love. He knew she could not, and he had come to terms with that particular fact a long time ago. Anakin drew a certain amount of love from Obi-Wan, but it was the kind that a father would give a son, or a brother would offer a brother. Padmé, though, loved him for the man he was and the man he hoped he could be.
How could he stand to lose that love? Worse, how could he stand to lose it, knowing that he could have done something to prevent its death?
I can’t. And I won’t, Anakin promised himself as he strode from Yoda’s chamber.
His mind was so focused on that promise that he barely noticed he had arrived at the mission briefing room until the meeting’s participants, filing out of the room, greeted him. Hurriedly Anakin pulled himself together and descended the short staircase to Obi-Wan, who was shutting down a series of holographics.
“You missed the report on the Outer Rim Sieges,” the latter greeted him.
“I was held up,” said Anakin honestly. “I have no excuse.”
Obi-Wan folded his arms. “In short, they are going very well. Saleucami has fallen, and Master Vos has moved his troops to Boz Pity.”
“What’s wrong, then?” Anakin asked.
The older man sighed, starting towards the door. “The Senate is expected to vote more executive powers to the Chancellor today.”
Anakin arched an eyebrow. “Well, that can only mean less deliberating and more action. Is that bad? It will make it easier for us to end this war.”
They walked on into the sunlit hallway, Obi-Wan stroking his beard softly. “Anakin, be careful of your friend Palpatine,” he said finally.
“Be careful of what?”
“He has requested your presence,” Obi-Wan explained.
This came as quite a surprise. Although Anakin shared what he thought of as a close friendship with the Chancellor, he was distinctly unused to being consulted on matters of government. “What for?”
“He would not say.”
“He didn’t inform the Jedi Council?” Anakin said incredulously. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“All of this is unusual, and it’s making me feel uneasy,” Obi-Wan sighed. “You’re probably aware that relations between the Council and the Chancellor are … strained.”
Anakin’s tone was cautious as he replied, “I know the Council has grown wary of the Chancellor’s power. Mine also, for that matter. Aren’t we all working together to save the Republic? I mean, why all this distrust?”
“The Force grows dark, Anakin, and we are all affected by it.” Obi-Wan paused to gaze out a sunny window. Across the tangle of buildings, Five Hundred Republica arched into the morning sky. “Be wary of your feelings.”
“You’re talking about my dream, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Perhaps,” admitted Obi-Wan. “I must confess I’m not entirely sure of its meaning —”
“What?” Anakin interrupted. “Its meaning? Padmé is going to die! That meaning seemed pretty clear to me!”
“Yes, but something about it just does not seem right to me,” Obi-Wan persisted. “In these times we are all subjected to the influences of the dark side. The mind can act in mysterious ways when presented with dark currents. My concern for you at this time is to keep your mind clear and submit to the will of the Force.”
“But … but … how can you even say that?” Anakin choked out. “You love Padmé! How can you just stand there and let her die?”
“Anakin, I know very well how frightening that dream must have been for you. It was frightening to be awoken in the middle of the night and be told you’d had it, never mind the actual experience. However, need I remind you that there is absolutely no evidence whatsoever that Padmé’s life is in danger? From what she has told me, the pregnancy has gone well. She’s very healthy, despite being quite ill early on. About the only difficulties she experiences are some minor back pain and, of course, a lot of fatigue. According to her medical droid everything is fine. So why is there any reason to suspect that she might die?”
Anakin balled his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching them. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know. I just know that whenever I have these dreams — people die. Or bad things happen.”
He suddenly felt very young.
Obi-Wan sighed, looking again towards 500 Republica. “I wish there was something I could say to help you. But I’m not sure if anything more than the basic facts will be a comfort.”
“Master, it’s — it’s all right,” Anakin said, hastily trying to pull himself together. “I just worry for her, that’s all. Padmé is one of my best friends.”
“She’s one of mine as well.” Both men were silent for several moments, lost in their separate thoughts. Then Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Well, we’d best be on our way to Padmé’s apartment. We’re going to be late.”
***
At that moment, Padmé herself was clearing off her small coffee table and arranging couch cushions in preparation for the medical droid’s arrival. Although she felt more comfortable on the large veranda that also served as a landing pad, she had requested that the droid, Obi-Wan and Anakin meet her in the enclosed part of her apartment for privacy reasons. The shades would be pulled and a security lock in place. Padmé still did not feel comfortable with the possibility of her pregnancy becoming public knowledge, even though she understood that it was likely inevitable once Obi-Wan announced his intention to leave the Jedi Order. But for now, what the gossipmongers did not know couldn’t hurt them.
Her comlink chimed, and Padmé felt her stomach clench instinctively. She had grown to hate that sound, because it so often heralded the news that Obi-Wan would be at the Temple longer than he’d anticipated. She would never have complained to him, however, as their relationship had also taught her that nothing was more important for Obi-Wan than his duty to the Jedi. It was one of the reasons she loved him.
Resigned, she activated her comlink and was surprised to see the thin blue form of Mon Mothma spring to life before her.
“Padmé, greetings,” Mon said, smiling warmly. “How have you been keeping?”
“Quite well, thank you,” Padmé replied. “And you? How’s Lily?”
“Energetic and happy. Thanks for your concern. Would you believe that her favourite things to eat now are green food rations?”
Padmé laughed. “Is that so? I guess she must have taken me more seriously than I thought.”
“She must,” Mon agreed. “I can’t say as it bothers me, though. She never was a fan of them before, and thanks to you it’s my belief she’s a lot healthier.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Padmé said. “But I’m sure you didn’t contact me to discuss Lily’s dietary habits. What’s going on?”
Mon’s face instantly became serious. “No, I didn’t. Padmé, I must ask you — are you able to speak privately at the moment? No security, no droids, no other personnel in proximity to you?”
Padmé glanced around, though she knew she was quite alone. Her handmaidens and security were all on the lower levels, and C-3PO had been sent to her landing pad to greet the Jedi when they arrived. “To my knowledge there’s no one else around. Why all the secrecy?”
She was used to speaking of sensitive affairs, but all of her staff had signed confidentiality agreements and had never betrayed her. So she was puzzled as to why Mon might insist on solitude.
Next moment, Padmé had her answer. “What I wish to talk with you about is … well, of an extremely sensitive nature,” Mon explained. “Even beyond what priority security clearance would cover. I want to be absolutely sure we will not be overheard.”
“Understood,” replied Padmé. “You have my assurances.”
“Thank you.” Mon paused, as though gathering her thoughts. “During the war, it has come to my attention, as I’m sure it has to yours, that Chancellor Palpatine has been passing a number of — let’s call them unusual — bills of late. Have you seen the docket for tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Padmé said. “In point of fact that’s exactly what I was working on this morning. I had to leave the Senate early for personal reasons, but I’ve already submitted my objections to three of the major bills that will be discussed.”
“As have I. But … a small group of Senators and I have recently been considering the possibility that simple objections may not be enough,” Mon said gently. “They are made, noted, and then passed over completely. No one — least of all Palpatine, who claims to be so committed to democracy — appears to be able to do anything to counter this trend. So it is time to do something.”
Padmé bit her lip. “I’m not sure I follow. What can be done?”
“I need your help, Padmé,” Mon said in such an honest, open tone that her friend was shocked. “I am a leading member of a coalition that is looking into … alternate solutions … to political negotiations.”
“Alternate solutions?” Padmé repeated. “Surely you don’t mean violent solutions?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that,” insisted Mon, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. “Petitions, formal complaints, methods of that sort. Motions that cannot be overlooked. Our primary objective is peace, I promise you that.”
“So what are you requesting of me?” Padmé asked.
“Just that you come to a meeting tomorrow,” Mon replied. “In Bail Organa’s office. Bail will be there, and Fang Zar, and others. They form the bedrock of our coalition. So will you, if you agree to join with us. The meeting is to discuss the methods which we feel would be most effective, as well as what we wish to achieve. You needn’t commit to anything, not at this moment.”
Padmé nodded. “I understand. I will be there.”
She barely had time to wonder at the agreement before C-3PO tottered into the room. “Mistress Padmé,” he exclaimed, “might I present two most honoured guests? Master Kenobi and Master Anakin have arrived!”
“Thank you, Threepio. Tell them to come up. Mon?” Padmé said into the comlink. “I have business to attend to at the moment, but I’ll be there tomorrow in Bail’s office. I promise you that.”
“Thank you, Padmé. See you then.” And the small form of her friend vanished.
Clicking off her comlink, Padmé pondered what she had just been told. Clearly, there were others who had begun to ask the same questions as she about the Chancellor’s supposed “democracy,” and she knew it was usually better for small groups to be united politically as opposed to a lone voice calling uselessly in the wind. Yet Padmé was equally puzzled about what precisely could be achieved. She had tried to voice her objections. She had tried to vote against the anti-democratic motions in hopes that her efforts might be noticed and discussed. Neither approach had worked. Perhaps a petition signed by a large number of Senators might carry more weight, but with Palpatine’s Senatorial supermajority, it might be difficult or impossible to put together a big enough group to have an impact. And while the idea of the petition was better than anything they had come up with so far, it also presupposed that Mon and her coalition could in fact convince enough Senators to add their names. There was not only the problem of the supermajority but also that those who openly opposed Palpatine tended to vanish suddenly and without explanation. Fear could be a powerful deterrent.
She was so lost in these thoughts that she barely heard Threepio totter back up the staircase, or the quiet murmurs of Anakin and Obi-Wan as they ascended with him. It took another reminder from the golden droid that their “honoured visitors” had arrived for Padmé to look up.
When she did, the sight that met her eyes made her smile widely. They stood in the doorway, her two best friends in the galaxy, grinning and laughing and joking. How she had missed them! There was no doubt in her mind that their time at the front had changed them. But they were Jedi, and so they did not show it.
“Darling,” Obi-Wan smiled, and held out his arms. A moment later Padmé was enveloped in them, kissing him softly and guiding one of his hands to her belly to feel the children kick. Cognizant of Anakin, however, she soon let go.
“Ani,” Padmé said, and hugged him too (though the gesture was one of friendship only). “Thank you so much for coming. This wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Me, miss out on a chance to start teaching my Master’s kids to be troublemakers? Not a chance,” Anakin grinned.
“Oh, no, we’ll have none of that,” said Obi-Wan as they made their way to the couch. “My children are going to be the best-behaved younglings in the galaxy. Count on it.”
“With a father like you I don’t doubt it,” Anakin returned. “That’s why it’s my job to show them how to make trouble.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You’re such a bad influence. Trying to pollute young minds before they’re even born.”
Anakin snickered. “Well like I said, they’re not going to get any of that from you if I leave them in your hands. They’ve gotta have at least one mentor in the art of troublemaking, and unless Padmé has something up her sleeve …”
“I assure you, I don’t,” Padmé told him, lowering herself onto the couch and leaning back against it. “I’ll have my hands full just taking care of them. Never mind teaching them to be troublemakers. I think that should be your department, Ani.”
“See?” Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. “Even Padmé agrees. These kids need a bad influence. I am a bad influence. It’s a Force-made match.”
Padmé’s eyelids drooped, but she was smiling. “You’ve been outvoted, darling.”
“I guess I have,” Obi-Wan chuckled.
“Pardon me,” came a voice from behind them, and they turned to see Padmé’s medical droid entering the room. “Senator Amidala, I am here for your holoimaging session.”
“Yes, M6-D8.” Padmé stood. “Two additional people will be observing the session today, if that’s all right. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my partner and the father of the children, and Anakin Skywalker, a very dear friend.”
“Of course,” the droid said mechanically. “May I begin setup?”
“Please.”
Padmé lay back on the couch while the droid took out the imaging equipment and scanners it would need. Anakin and Obi-Wan hovered nearby, unsure of what their role should be.
“Are you feeling all right, can I get you anything?” Obi-Wan asked, anxiously smoothing Padmé’s hair back from her cheeks.
Padmé chuckled. “I’m all right, darling, really! Just tired. You would be too if you had to lug around an extra twenty-five pounds on a daily basis.”
“Fatigue is an extremely common symptom, occurring in ninety-five point seven percent of all human pregnancies,” the medical droid put in.
“What about death in childbirth?” Anakin asked quietly.
All heads, mechanical and otherwise, turned to him.
“I mean … Padmé told me it’s really rare, and I believe her, but — some people probably still die, right?” he continued awkwardly.
“With respect, sir, the death of a human female in childbirth has not been recorded for some years now on Core Worlds,” M6-D8 replied. “Medical technology has advanced to the point where we are able to predict nearly all possible complications, and work to alleviate them before the offspring is ready to arrive.”
“Nearly all possible complications?” Anakin repeated. “Does that mean that there are some you don’t catch?”
“No, the discrepancy is there to account for the measurable mortality rates on Outer Rim worlds such as Tatooine,” explained the droid. “When an expectant mother is seen regularly by competent medical technicians such as myself, the risk is so unremarkable as to be unworthy of consideration.”
“You see, Ani?” Padmé smiled. “I didn’t tell you those same things last night just to make you feel better. It’s the truth.”
“What about Senator Amidala?” pressed Anakin. “Does she have any risk factors?”
“I am unsure of the purpose of this line of questioning,” said M6-D8 as it spread a transparent oil on Padmé’s exposed belly. “I have already indicated to you that the risk factors in general for a being in Senator Amidala’s condition are negligible. I would think that the level of reassurance provided would be more than sufficient —”
“Anakin has been having nightmares,” Obi-Wan interrupted. “Bad dreams, about Senator Amidala’s death in childbirth. He cares for her very much and I’m sure he is only trying to express his concern for a friend’s well-being.”
Anakin shot his Master a grateful smile.
“Then allow me to assure you that she is completely healthy.” The droid pressed several buttons on a scanner. “Ordinarily, the presence of twins might be a significant risk factor, but the Senator is in good health and has been taking excellent care of herself. The remainder of her gestation and the delivery should be quite uncomplicated. Now, if you will direct your attention to the screen on the table, you ought to be able to see the children. Please alert me if the screen resolution requires adjustment.”
That stopped the discussion in its tracks. Padmé, Obi-Wan and Anakin squinted at the screen, at first unable to see anything but blurry darkness. Then, a sudden flurry of movement made them gasp.
“Look!” Anakin whispered. “Look, is that his foot?”
A tiny appendage was waving furiously backwards and forwards. Then the camera swung to the left, and it was revealed to be an arm in front of an infant’s face. The baby batted at something beyond the observers’ field of vision, and then stuffed a tiny thumb into its mouth.
“Can you feel that?” Obi-Wan asked in a hushed tone.
“Some of it,” Padmé replied. “I can feel their kicks and punches. And sometimes they get the hiccups.”
Anakin laughed. “Really? Padmé, that’s … that’s amazing.”
“Not when you’re trying to fall asleep after what seems like your five thousandth trip to the refresher.” Padmé softened as she gazed at the children kicking and squirming on the screen. “But you’re right. It is … absolutely amazing.”
“May I …?” Anakin asked hesitantly, moving towards the couch. At a nod from Padmé, he slid his hand gently over her belly to the spot where a baby’s foot kicked insistently. “Wow. Do you know yet whether they’re boys or girls?”
“Not, not yet,” Padmé said. “I’ve forbidden M6-D8 to tell me. The element of surprise is … well, it’s fun, I guess. Although I suspect Obi-Wan knows. But I’ve sworn him to secrecy.”
“How would he know? Does he have holoscanner vision and just never bothered to tell me? It sure would’ve come in handy on a few of those missions, Master.”
Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, Anakin, I’m afraid not. There have been several times where I’ve been able to establish a Force connection with the babies, and I’ve learned certain things. Such as several distinct differences —”
“Don’t you dare, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Padmé exclaimed. “If you want to tell him, you both can go into the next room. I don’t want to know.”
“Darling, that’s not what I was going to say.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “Just that I’ve detected certain differences which lead me to believe I may know their genders. That’s all. I’m not going to tell you if you don’t wish me to.”
“Good,” she smiled.
Anakin was looking puzzled. “A Force connection? What do you mean?”
“It’s a trick Qui-Gon taught me,” explained Obi-Wan. “It’s essentially very similar to making oneself part of the Living Force, which, of course, Jedi are encouraged to do on a regular basis. But rather than uniting with the entire Force, you simply enter one very small part of it. I can reach into the Force and sense the children, almost become part of them, if I wish.” He softened, stroking Padmé’s cheek lightly. “It’s truly an amazing experience.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Anakin said. “I’ll have to try it sometime.”
“Excuse me? Sirs, madam?” M6-D8 spoke up. “Senator Amidala, I have taken all the necessary measurements and performed the required tests. The babies appear healthy and strong and are gaining weight at the required rate. Unless there are additional tests you would like to request, I will leave you with the latest holoimage and expect to see you once again in approximately seven sunups. Understood?”
“Yes, thank you,” replied Padmé, straightening her dress and sitting up. “Thank you. Ani, do you have any other questions?”
The Knight suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. “No — no, it’s okay. Really. Thanks, Emsix.”
“Of course,” said the droid. It began to pack up its equipment.
“Anakin, are you sure you’re okay?” Padmé’s gaze drifted to his hand, which seemed to have grown suddenly tense against her stomach. But suddenly she was sure she had imagined it, for he was caressing it gently, following the kicks of the children.
And a moment later, the concerns had fled her mind. Obi-Wan was clasping her hand, kissing her fingers. Anakin was gazing at the babies’ holoimage and trying to decide which child looked like Obi-Wan and which like Padmé.
Padmé herself was perfectly contented, her two most favourite people next to her. She could think of nowhere else she would rather have been.
PERSONAL RECORD: PADME AMIDALA
Hello, little ones. I’m writing to you in bed, with your father next to me, and the apartment long quiet. The busy cityscape of Coruscant marches on outside my window, as always. It astonishes me how many beings are awake and going about their business at this late hour. Then again, some do not require sleep, so I suppose I’m speaking from my own narrow perspective on that point. The blinds are closed and I’m feeling, for once in my life, like things might actually be going right for a change.
The holoimaging session was a huge success. I don’t know if it was some trick of the Force, or if you two are perhaps more aware than I give you credit for, but you were both positioned perfectly. I have never seen Obi-Wan and Anakin more in awe. I know firsthand what a miracle this is, but having had a few months to get used to the miracle has jaded me somewhat. The open-eyed wonder on their faces was really quite a thing to witness. It reminded me how anxious I am for you both to get here, how much I love Obi-Wan, and how worth it every bit of nausea and dizziness and all the other symptoms have been.
I must confess, however, that I’m still concerned about Anakin. I’ve always had a fairly good intuition when it comes to interpreting people’s thoughts and feelings. Obi-Wan would probably attribute this to my latent Force sensitivity, but I prefer not to think of it that way. I just … I don’t know if I can really explain this adequately. It’s almost like Anakin is still afraid, but doesn’t want to reveal his fear because he wishes to appear strong. Possibly he is also concerned about worrying Obi-Wan and I. If I had a choice in the matter I would ask him just to talk to us about his fears. I’m not sure if he would, though.
Tomorrow I have that mysterious meeting with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. I won’t say much more about it here in case this personal record is somehow intercepted by the wrong eyes. But I will admit to being very curious about what they have in mind. I understand their concerns, though I’m not sure what they hope to accomplish. In these turbulent times we are all judged by the company we keep and by our actions with that company. I wish it were not so, but it is.
Seeing you today, my darlings, reminded me of just how far I am willing to go to achieve peace. I would be foolish not to admit that. It is amazing, but not really surprising, the lengths to which beings will go when they realize that the affairs of the galaxy might negatively affect their offspring. That is certainly the position in which I now find myself. I could never condone violence, and I still cannot condone the tactics of the Separatists. But now I want so desperately for this war to end so that your father and I can raise you in a safe place. And if the only way to do that is to begin the pursuit of alternate means, so be it.
Perhaps that, in the end, is why wars are fought.
Everyone just wants to be safe.