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Anakin could barely contain his excitement as the shuttle slid smoothly toward the dome of the Senate Building. He hadn’t seen Coruscant in months. All the things he disliked about the city—the constant hum of traffic, the claustrophobic crowdedness—now welcomed him back with ease and comfort. The thing that stood out to him the most was the lack of war here. Despite having had a huge battle right outside their atmosphere just this morning, there seemed to be a shocking absence of armed forces in the city. The shining, wealthy planet of Coruscant looked like it always did. Towering skyscrapers and peaceful streams of airspeeders. Uninterrupted and unbothered.
“Thank you for everything you have done today,” said Chancellor Palpatine, leaning closer to Anakin. A warm, paternal smile spread across his face. Out of the three of them sitting in the shuttle, only Palpatine got a new change of clothes after their somewhat rough landing in the wreck that used to be the Separatist flagship. Where Obi-Wan and Anakin looked dirty and war-ridden, Palpatine seemed to be healthy and fresh. Anakin figured they needed to showcase the war hero Jedi Knights for the good public image. Palpatine placed a benevolent hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I will not forget your bravery, young Skywalker.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The shuttle gently slowed down as it reached the Chancellor’s private landing platform. A group of delegates and senators stood there waiting for them.
The population of Coruscant has been a living witness to one of the most significant battles of the war, eagerly watching it all unfold in front of them, broadcasted live on the HoloNet. News and rumours were spreading through the galactic city like a plague, whispers that the Chancellor has been maimed, killed, or even worse. That the two Jedi heroes have fallen. That the future of the Republic and of civilization itself has suffered the same fate as their beloved warriors. Now, seeing the subjects of these rumours delivered in one piece, Anakin could feel the anticipation of the politicians as it rippled through the air.
Anakin rose on his seat, disguising the movement as a gesture of smoothing his tunic under his bottom. His eyes skimmed the group selectively, searching for one face, just that one face. When he failed to find it, he felt an uncomfortable pinch in his chest.
Where is she? What is she doing? Why is she not here?
Realizing that he’s been hovering above his seat for too long, he quickly sat back down, refocusing his gaze on a more neutral subject—which happened to be Obi-Wan’s knee.
As they arrived, the Chancellor exited the shuttle with his dignified slow walk, lifting his grey robe just an inch above his feet. Anakin followed him from a bit of a distance, but he halted on the platform when he noticed his Master stay behind.
“Are you coming, Master?” he asked.
“Oh no, I’m not brave enough for politics,” said Obi-Wan, smiling. “I have to report to the Council. Besides, someone needs to be the poster boy.”
“Hold on. This whole operation was your idea,” frowned Anakin, teasing. He knew all too well how much the public relied on their war heroes. How much they followed every move of the celebrated, legendary duo, Kenobi and Skywalker.
“Let us not forget, Anakin, that you rescued me from the buzz droids. And you killed Count Dooku. And you rescued the Chancellor, carrying me unconscious on your back.”
“All because of your training.” Anakin did a little bow, slightly mocking Obi-Wan, but feeling a grateful warmth inside his chest.
“Anakin, let’s be fair. Today, you’re the hero. And you deserve your glorious day with the politicians.”
“Alright. But you owe me one, and not for saving your skin for the tenth time.”
“Ninth time,” Obi-Wan corrected. “That business on Cato Neimoidia doesn’t count. I’ll see you at the briefing.”
With that, Anakin caught up to the senators, who have already begun to walk inside, passing through an entrance hall of grand marble columns. The group centered around the Chancellor who was in the midst of sharing the dramatic story of his kidnapping and how he was rescued by the heroic Jedi Knights. Some of the politicians cast respectful looks toward Anakin, each of them murmuring a few praising words, but never quite looking him in the eye. Anakin has long learned not to take them personally. But today he was twitchy and restless.
Where. Is. She?
As much as he tried to suppress the thought, it circled back into his mind obsessively and aggressively. Is she hurt? Is she in trouble? Is this… did something change? Did her feelings change? About our relationship—about me?
“I am sensing this victory brings us close to the end of the war?” said Senator Organa with that low, soothing voice of his.
“It does,” Anakin answered, his mind half-absent. “Count Dooku’s finished. But we are not done yet. As much as we want peace, the fighting will continue until General Grievous is... spare parts.”
As they strolled across the wide entrance, Anakin spotted a silhouette from the corner of his eye. His heart skipped a beat. She was there, after all. In one piece. Waiting for him. She was standing alone in the shadow of a column, watching him. Maybe it was the enormity of the hall, but she seemed so small, so fragile.
“I will do everything I can in the Senate… ” said Organa, but Anakin barely heard him.
“Excuse me,” he mumbled. Distantly, he could catch the senator’s affirmation, but it didn’t matter. He was already dashing towards her. Somewhere deep in his mind, a slim voice warned him that he should be careful. At least wait till Organa is gone. But it didn’t matter, not really. Not when she was standing right in front of him. When it came to her, nothing else really mattered.
Their bodies collided into an embrace. Anakin let out a sigh of pleasure, spinning her around and steering them back into the shadows. He buried his face into her shoulder, inhaled her scent, and clutched her like she was another one his sweet, volatile daydreams. She was warm and soft, and so very precious.
“Oh, Anakin,” she breathed. Their lips found each other. Feeling the stroke of her tongue made Anakin’s body tingle.
“I’ve missed you, Padmé,” he murmured into her mouth, not wanting to ever part from her lips. Her hand slid up his neck and caressed his hair, which has grown longer since they last met. Her fingers began smoothing out his tangled locks—a gesture that brought warmth and comfort and echoed slightly of Anakin’s mother.
“There were whispers that you’d been killed,” she said with a low voice, holding him firmly as if she still didn’t believe he was real.
“I’m alright,” Anakin said. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her lips, gleaming wet from kissing. “It feels like we’ve been apart for a lifetime. And it might have been if the Chancellor hadn’t been kidnapped, I don’t think they would have ever brought us back from the Outer Rim Sieges.” He pulled her closer and began kissing her neck impatiently, desire crawling in the pit of his stomach.
Padmé pulled away. “Wait, not here.”
“Yes, here,” he said, pulling her back into the embrace. “I’m tired of all this deception, I don’t care if they know we’re married.”
“Anakin, don’t say things like that,” she hassled. They looked at each other for a moment, Anakin trying to decipher her thoughts. It’s always been hard to read her, and now—there was something in her eyes. He felt her tremble softly under his hands. So something has changed, after all. He felt it. He knew it. Something… something scary was going on, under the surface. Her eyes grew shiny with uprising tears and she looked up at him almost fearfully.
“Are you all right?” he asked gently, while cold dread flooded his veins. He could barely breathe. “You’re trembling. What’s going on?”
“Something wonderful has happened,” she whispered. “Ani, I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant. The word seemed to echo. Pregnant.
Anakin’s eyes darted downward at her belly, his flesh hand touching it and feeling the bump. A baby was inside her. He and Padmé will have a child. In his mind, he saw Jedi younglings, the all too familiar picture of little children in their little tunics, running around and playing in the gardens of the Temple. My child is going to be a Jedi, the thought came to him like a lightning strike.
But then, with this thought—a shroud of doubts descended on his mind, darkening his vision.
People will know. People will see. People will talk.
This cannot be hidden, not for long. Jedi are not allowed to form attachments. His marriage to Padmé just by itself was already a huge violation of the Jedi Code. Once the baby is born there will be a living, breathing proof against all his wrongdoings. Once the baby is born, his attachment to his family will be cemented as a truth. The dawn of his love for these two beings—his wife and his baby—will be the dusk of his Knighthood.
This looming realization wasn’t giving itself easily. It crawled up his leg, crept up his spine, injected itself into his bloodstream like poison.
Somewhere beyond his hooded vision, he sensed that Padmé was looking at him. He blinked and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out.
This will be a huge scandal. We will be all over the news. “Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker Knocked Up the Naboo Senator.” I will be thrown out of the Order. What’s gonna happen to Padmé?
Padmé was staring at him. Anakin’s vision abruptly went very clear, and he could finally see that her eyes were brimmed with tears. His silence frightened her.
“That’s… that’s w-wonderful,” he stuttered, taking her hands and squeezing them.
“What are we gonna do?” she asked, her voice tinted with panic.
What are we gonna do? As if struck by a lightning, Anakin felt confident what they were gonna do. This is just like a mission. Another military operation. When the future is troubling, all you do is— ignore it. Shut it out.
Take it step by step.
“We are not gonna worry about anything right now, all right?” he said, his mouth curling into a grin.
He and Padmé will forever be together, their love eternally united—in that child, entwined within its very DNA. Soon enough he will be able to hold them in his arms. A wide, uncontrollable grin broke out on his face, and he felt like laughing out loud. Joy rushed through his body, hot and wild, washing away all doubt, all fear. He grasped Padmé’s shoulders, wanting to spin her around, to yell at her, to tell her how much in love he was.
“This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.” Looking at the face of his beloved, tears blurred his vision. Their bodies melted back into an embrace, Anakin now conscious of the curve of her belly against his stomach.