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Day 2: Worried sick
Padme’s world was crumbling before her very eyes. She stood before the man she adored—the man who had captured her heart and sworn to be by her side forever—and felt only dread where love had once prevailed.
She loved him; that was the only thought in her mind. Padme knew that if Anakin were lost, she would not survive much longer. She existed for the betterment of the wide cosmos, but she lived for Anakin.
“I don’t know you anymore.” She shook her head, as if to dispel the very idea that this being in front of her was her husband. It was incomprehensible. Anakin was a hero, a kind and just individual. This was not the man she had fallen in love with.
He looked at her, as if he too was seeing a stranger. Obsession burnt in his eyes, as if a rage had been set free from carefully constructed walls that were never to be erected again. But this obsession—however alien to her perception of him—was not unfamiliar. She had seen it before.
It was the most dangerous, toxic sort of love. Padme did not quite know if it was love anymore or had ever been.
Standing before him now, she was not as sure that she’d manage to convince him to return to the light.
A knot tied in her stomach, a careful kick against her abdomen. The baby, she thought with a terrifying sort of clarity. Anakin loved her, surely. But their baby? Couldn’t he see how much danger he was putting them in? If so, did he not care?
Bile rose in her mouth, but she gritted her teeth. For the sake of this baby—for the sake of the universe—Padme had to return Anakin to his senses.
“You’re breaking my heart.” She hoped he would see the truth behind the statement. Hoped he cared enough about her not to go through with this. “You’re going down a path I can’t follow.”
“Because of Obi-Wan.” He tilted his head up, as if looking for divine guidance. In this moment, Padme wondered, who is the angel between us, Anakin?
“Because of what you’ve done!” With a halo of golden hair framing his face and animalistic need in his eyes, you’ve never looked more like a fallen angel. “Because of what you are planning to do.”
This unfamiliar version of the love of her life made more bile rise to her throat. Anxiety choked her. The child kicked again with a sense of urgency, as if aware that this moment was detrimental.
Anakin could deny it all he wanted, but Padme knew him. Knew his quirks and dreams and nightmares. She was this close to convincing him. This close to their happily ever after.
But then his gaze strayed to Obi-Wan, standing in the aircraft above them. With a chilling sense of dread, Padme was sure this was the turning point—and she had failed.
“Stop,” She screamed, eyes glistening with tears. The bile rose again, a tornado smashing against her will. She held strong. As long as there was still hope, she’d survive. For Anakin. “Stop that! Come back!” She yelled.
Padme neared him, for what she feared would be the last time, and told him with the utmost certainty—for this truth was engraved in her soul, and she’d carry it until her death. “I love you.”
Obi-Wan kept standing in the aircraft, and that—that was supposed to be the end, she would realise belatedly. She saw Anakin open his mouth, as if in slow motion, but the only thing she heard was “Li—”
The bile in her throat became dangerously much; the dread that had been building up in her gut had worsened, and at once she leaned over. The baby gave a final kick against her abdomen and the dam opened.
She threw up.
Her eyes slipped shut of their own accord, and she crumbled to the floor in a heap, still hacking. The baby was moving around in her stomach. All her worry, her anxiety, her distress at Anakin’s change were accumulated into this impromptu vomiting session.
Suddenly, Padme felt a hand settling on her shoulder blades. Her eyes snapped open, and she recognised her husband crouched in front of her—anger still swirling in his gaze, but somehow dimmed, more hazy than the burning fire it had been last time she had looked.
“Ani?” She whispered, still hoping that he would not turn his back on her—on the world.
She saw him licking his lips; an internal fight was taking place right in front of her. Padme would not let this opportunity go to waste.
She clutched Anakin’s arm on her shoulder, watching as his gaze snapped to hers with an intensity that bordered on his previous obsession. She did not care. Padme had to convince him. There was still good in Anakin. There would always be good in Anakin.
Carefully, Padme moved his hand to the protruding bump that housed their child. Anakin’s breath hitched in his throat and his eyes—where there were hints of a sickly orange before—cleared completely. The icy blue orbs she had fallen in love with returned.
His large hand covered her belly. She could see Anakin’s lips quiver. This was her chance. “Come back, Anakin.” Not for her. He wouldn’t go back for her now when there was still something that was keeping him steadily in the Dark Side. Something enticing, an offer he couldn’t refuse. “For our baby.”
As if hearing her words, the baby kicked her stomach. She huffed out a laugh, hoping that Anakin would share in her smile, but his face was shadowed by something dangerously close to indecision. She thought she had him with this argument. Their baby was the most precious thing Anakin would want to protect. What would be so alluring that he’d rather sacrifice their baby’s future for it?
…
Padme.
Oh, Force, it was Padme.
Bile rose in her mouth again, but this time she fought valiantly to shoot it back down. The dreams, the nightmares, the pacing around the house, the concerned glances, the lingering comments of ‘are you okay?’ that seemed too many to be completely casual. The look in his eyes the last time they talked about the birth, as if he was drinking her in—memorising every feature so as not to forget.
He thought she’d die. That’s why he was doing all of this. Did they promise him a cure, the Sith master? A cure—a cure to what? Death?
If her theory held water, then Padme was not sure how to convince him that his dreams would not come to pass. The will of the Force was an alien concept to her. Padme didn’t know how to deal with visions. If they were visions at all, and not simple nightmares.
The baby! She had to do it via the baby. There was no other way.
“If I die,” Padme said. Anakin’s eyes were already trained on her, but now his overwhelming presence pressed down on them. It felt as if Padme was force-sensitive, and Anakin was deliberately staking his claim. “You need to take the baby.”
“You won’t die,” He told her with certainty. Shadows passed over his features, and the orange tint returned. “I won’t allow it.”
“No, Anakin,” She didn’t need immortality. There was too high a price for it. “In the off-chance that I die,” There was a chance. A minuscule chance. But Padme didn’t care for it, not when her baby would be alive. She needed to ensure its future with its father. “You must take care of the baby.” Anakin still seemed indecisive. Padme had to go for the final blow. “Come back—that is my last wish.”
Anakin wilted, like a flower under the sun. He dropped to his knees, hands fisted in his hair, eyes wild with unrestrained sorrow. “I–I can’t!” He yelled. “I can’t watch you die!”
Her heart ached at his despair. She wanted to soothe the hurt she had caused. But the orange tint had nearly disappeared. “I love you, Anakin.”
With a final scream, he leaned against her shoulder. He looked worn and exhausted. Haunted. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.
“I know.” She sobbed. This was the point of no return. If she had failed, there would be no more chances. She clutched at his hand—still lying over her stomach—and refused to let go. “If you’re there with me,” Padme ventured, unwilling to see if her efforts had borne fruit. “I will be fine, I know it.”
A shudder passed through both of them. Finally, she tore her eyes away from the hand on her belly and stared at Anakin.
They would not be fine any time soon. Perhaps they never would be.
But as Padme tracked Anakin’s clear blue eyes with the same intensity she had when they first met, she knew one thing to be true.
If there was an angel among the two of them, it was not Padme. She just hoped her angel would avoid Lucifer’s fate.