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"Don't go too far, girls!"
Sola answers mother, calling back in the affirmative, the responsible and compassionate older sister. Padmé runs, laughing, arms reaching for the sky, the sun, the waterfall. Her small legs carry her down the hill, racing faster and faster until she stumbles into the tall grass. Petals flutter into the air when Padmé grasps at their blooms as she falls and rolls, still laughing, to land facing the sky. Tucked into the grass she reaches up and the petals dance.
Padmé is happiest surrounded by flowers. And she always goes too far.
---
Time and space are different after death. After life. The Force pays no mind to the laws of physics and ignores social constructs.
She remembers everything all at once.
Are you an angel? I feel lost. I thought we'd agreed not to fall in love. Love won't save you. He was deceived by a lie... I thought I was part of that Order. The Jedi turned against me. Everyone, except Anakin, has abandoned me. Don't you turn against me! Please wait for me. In wartime, some things must be kept secret. Anakin is the father, isn't he? It'll bring you good fortune.
She experiences everything all at once.
I'm a person, the boy asserts. She raises both hands to caress his face, Come back...I love you! ...I truly, deeply… The air is heavy with the heat. Too warm. She can't breathe. She wants to scream.
She's in one place--
“Don't go too far, Luke!”
He slows at first, a dutiful nephew, and there's nothing to see over the hill anyway. Just sand for miles. He would have to go far too far to see anything else. All the way to the stars.
But when he reaches the top, he spreads his arms wide, like a starfighter, and runs. Sand kicks up behind him, a tiny storm that catches only Luke. Or doesn't, if he can outrun it.
Beru watches from the hill, a hand raised to shield her eyes from the suns. He's lost his hat again.
Obi-Wan watches from the rocks, the shadows he's relegated himself to. Watching and waiting. He smiles as the boy crash lands his imaginary jet into the sand and lays back to watch the stars come out.
Padmé sits beside her son, watching all three. The woman raising him in her stead, the man standing sentinel, the child dreaming of flying far, far away. All is quiet. As the suns set and the light fades Owen appears on the hill to call them in. Beru walks through Padmé's space to collects Luke and they turn home, hand in hand.
Obi-Wan walks into the dark. She wants to tell him to stay.
--and another--
"Don't go too far, Leia!"
Face screwed up in determination she ignores the admonishment, leaving parents, droids, and guards behind as she rushes down the embankment, sight set on the rocks that jut out into the water. She doesn’t slow until she reaches the edge and looks up into the twilight. Alderaan’s mountains loom large from her balcony at the palace, here they are monstrous, but beautiful as the lights of the aurora bounce off the snow. Leia raises her arms and dances along with the sky.
Bail arrives first, having pushed past the others to keep his irrepressible daughter in sight. He breathes a sigh of relief to find her spinning. Alderaan is safe, the Empire ignores them most of the year -- but he’s unpopular in the Senate and active in the Rebellion and on nights like this, when the power of the Force is on display in the sky, he thinks of Vader and wants to steal Leia away to the deepest reaches of space.
Instead, he watches, guides the guards to surround them unobtrusively, and finally allows his wife to lead him to the shore, where a picnic is being laid out. Threepio shuffles after them, but Artoo trundles over to the edge of the path by Leia.
Padmé raises a hand to brush the air by the droid, her oldest friend, who holds her secrets, still. Together they watch her daughter, and the sky, both lit up brighter than these dark times seem willing to allow.
--all at once. She returns to Naboo often. It's home. But other places -- people -- are home, too.
She stands beside him. On the planet of fire and ash.On the ship. On all the planets and all the ships. He kneels. She stands. She whispers, come back to me. Don't go too far.
They can't see her, hear her. Not awake. She's not strong enough. She hopes they can feel her. She can feel them.
Grief is heavy. It pulls, like the gravity of a black hole, dragging her down into an endless darkness. Rage like a fire is the only escape, it lies, annihilation is the only release. She feels it every time like the first time, on Tatooine, too late to save his mother, too late to save her son.
No, she tells the darkness, it's not too late.
Sometimes it's too much.
Millions of voices cry out as Alderaan explodes. Too many to comprehend. She focuses on her daughter, wraps her into an intangible embrace and sings a lullaby Leia can't hear.
Sometimes it's not enough.
She hears Obi-Wan tell her son to use the Force. It hurts that Luke hears him, and not her. She keeps trying. There is still good in him, she whispers, I know.
Hope is light. It lifts, like petals in the wind.
Sometimes...
Obi-Wan is here, now. She can sense it. But she is still not strong enough.
Sometimes...
Anakin and Obi-Wan are together, here. Luke and Leia are together, there. It feels different, brighter, but still she must wait.
Sometimes...
"Don't go too far, Ben!"
He charges into the forest with purpose. He senses something...something hidden. He wants to find it. Touch it. Know it. His pace quickens and he runs off the path.
It's midday, but the trees reach tall into the sky and block much of the light, creating a false dusk. Dead leaves cover the ground, they crunch as he walks, the only sound. It's creepier than Ben wants to admit but he refuses to be scared! He squares his shoulders and reaches out, asking for direction.
Nothing.
Annoyed, Ben drops to the ground. It's cold. And wet. And seems even darker. And really creepy. He scowls.
He hears a twig break and jumps, but it's probably just mom. He turns to tell her he's not a baby --
And finds a monster with teeth the size of his head growling at him, or at least in his general direction. He's too startled to cry out and flees in silence. Leaves fly into a frenzy as he runs, desperate, deeper into the forest. Everything is a blur as he charges away from the animal, small legs racing, until he finds a cave and stumbles in, hoping whatever might be inside is more friendly than the creature chasing behind. He dives into a pile of leaves and curls into a ball to hide.
When the rustling stops, some minutes later, he peers into the dark. Someone is here. Not the monster, a woman. His mother? He blinks. No. This woman is ... she seems to be made of moonlight. A soft glow surrounds her, illuminating the cave. He creeps closer, rustling the leaves, and she turns towards the sound. Ben stares. She's beautiful.
“Are you an angel?”
Padmé blinks. She's been visiting her grandson since his birth, just as she had his mother and uncle when they were growing up. A handful of times over the many years it seemed as if Leia saw her or Luke heard her, but neither had ever acknowledged it. After his death she felt Anakin's presence, and he hers, but even they couldn't speak to each other. But the boy was looking at her, speaking to her.
“What?”
“An angel,” Ben repeats. He meets her eyes, old and...sad. Maybe lonely. Like him. "You...glow."
He's younger than Ani was, when he asked the question more than a lifetime ago. Younger, and quieter, and more serious. Too serious, she thinks, sometimes, but she'd thought it of Leia, too, when she was small.
Padmé smiles. “Yes.”