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Often, the twins would inquire about their father. They’d ask what he looked like, what he did for a job, what his favorite color was, and even about his order from Dex’s; something that was apparently very revealing about someone’s personality. Padmé couldn’t answer every little thing, not when they were a bit too smart to not connect the dots, so she did her best to change the subject, or give some vague answer. One day, when they were old enough to know how to keep a secret, they’d get to know. For now, though, they’d just be left with unanswered questions.
Every now and then, though, they asked a question she could answer.
“What made you love him?” Leia sat on a stool in between her mother’s knees as Padmé brushed out her thick brunette locks. Luke sat beside his mother, clinging to her side and watching intently.
“Now, that’s a good question,” Padmé smiled as she considered it. The children had become quite creative, and so she thought hard about her answer.
There was quite a bit that she loved about Anakin. He was tall, handsome, and a brave warrior who had gone against all odds time and time again. For force sake, he was the strongest Jedi of their lifetime, maybe even in all of history. He was an amazing man, and not even Mace Windu could disagree, despite how much he’d like to.
But none of that made her love him. If all of that was taken from him in an instant, she’d love him the same. Those things made him valuable to the republic, to the media, and to the order. Their opinions didn’t matter to her.
“He made me laugh,” Padmé said finally. “He made me feel like the only woman in the world, and he loved you two more than anything.” The twins grinned at that. “He loved the galaxy, too. He always wanted to do the right thing. He’s such a good man.”
The twins were quiet for a minute, considering their mother’s answer.
“He would like Uncle Ani,” Luke decided, and Padmé was glad his little face stayed buried in the fabric of her skirts so he didn’t see how she went red.
“They’re very alike,” Padmé admitted with an awkward cough.
“Uncle Ani is the best man I know,” Leia said firmly, with a tone that made it clear her position would not be shook. “And then Uncle Obi Wan, and then Uncle Bail, and then Uncle Rex, and then-“
“You have a lot of uncles, Leia,” Padmé chuckled before her daughter went on with ranking all the men she knew. To be fair, Padmé had a similar list. It was short.
“Uncle Ani is our favorite,” She went on, and Padmé just shook her head with fondness. She was well aware of how much the twins loved Anakin, especially with how much they begged her to marry him. She expected they wouldn’t speak to her for at least a week when they found out the truth, and she winced at the idea of it. Anakin often reassured her, though, they’d be too happy celebrating to be mad for long.
—
Later, Anakin commed Padmé to tell her he’d been coming home after a few weeks away. For the most part, he lived with her and the twins, something that the children never really questioned, as Obi Wan and Ahsoka would sometimes crash in the living room when the temple became too overwhelming to provide a good nights sleep.
Then again, Anakin did always sleep in her bed, and the twins did often wake them up by jumping on their bed. And maybe they did see how he held her in his arms as they slept, in the same way married couples always did in the holodramas they saw. And maybe they did always pester Padmé with questions about that, because why would Uncle Ani hold her in that way when no one else ever did? And maybe she’d found several excuses for it. But maybe none of them worked and they really weren’t as careful as they prided themselves on being.
Anyhow, Luke and Leia had been ecstatic to hear their uncle was coming home, but not so happy when they found out he wouldn’t be arriving till at least twelve, and that was way past their bedtime.
Padmé tried to stand her ground, but eventually she caved, if they could stay up to twelve, they could greet Anakin when he arrived.
—
They passed out at nine.
Luke went first, which Padmé could’ve predicted from a hundred miles away. Luke slept more than even his father, which was definitely saying something, because Anakin could sleep twelve hours straight and not even stir at the sound of a thermal detonator going off in the next room. Luke was exactly the same, except make it three thermal detonators and a Wookie who just stubbed their toe. Still, both boys would wake up at even the slightest bit of distress spiking in the force, especially if it came from Leia or Padmé.
Whenever Leia had a nightmare, she could be sure to wake up to two pairs of bright, blue eyes staring directly at her, something Padmé had thought was sweet, but found to be actually quite terrifying the few times she’d woke up that way, usually while sick and in pain.
“Are you alright, darling,” Anakin would whisper to her, while Luke stood behind him in his star-fighter print pajamas, rubbing his eyes tiredly and asking the same. Padmé would nod, a bit too startled to answer with words, and her husband would pick their son up, carrying him to his room before coming back with tea and a silly grin that meant she was about to be teased for being frightened by himself and what basically looked like a mini version of him. She couldn’t help the confusion, she had a fever!
Leia fell asleep quickly after Luke, which had shocked her quite a bit. Leia was a bit more like Padmé when it came to sleeping habits. Padmé was used to working late into the night, and waking early in the mornings, taking the weekends to rest completely. Anakin, on the other hand, had to be prepared to stay up for even days a time, and so he slept whenever he could, for as long as possible. It seemed obvious even by these little details which line of work each child would be going into, though it practically gave Padmé a heart attack to think of Luke going into battle. He was much too sweet for that, even if the force sensitivity he’d inherited from his father made him more than capable.
When Anakin finally arrived, Padmé was half asleep herself.
“Wake up, angel,” Anakin laughed lightly as he pressed kisses all over her face. He’d let himself in, and found her lying on the couch with her eyes closed.
“I’m not sleeping,” Padmé huffed with a pinched up face, but she couldn’t keep the expression as she opened her eyes to see his face. He had grease smeared across his forehead, and his hair stuck to his face with sweat. He smelled like he’d taken a nap with a bantha. “You look very handsome.”
“Don’t be sarcastic,” He rolled his eyes, backing his face away from her. Padmé shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down so abruptly he stumbled a bit. Their noses pressed together.
“I mean it,” she promised, and pushed her lips against his to kiss him deeply. She was being honest, Anakin seemed to get more attractive every time she saw him, even if he hadn’t taken a real shower in four weeks.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I didn’t bathe for another four weeks?” Anakin joked after he pulled away from the kiss, reading her mind.
“Maybe that’s pushing it a bit,” Padmé giggled and Anakin pouted. “But if you do shower, I’ll promise to join you.”
He bit his lip, as if he was considering it, but only for a moment.
“That’s a deal.”