Fandom: Star Wars
Written For: 50scenes
Prompt: #028 Gasp
Characters: Padmé, Luke, Leia
Word Count: 612
Summary: Some late-night contemplation helps to soothe Padmé back to sleep.
Author’s Notes: I ran into some writer’s block on Chapter 6 of To Ignite the Stars, so I figured a little work on my 50scenes claim might just unstick me. That’s what this claim is partially for – to get me going again when I run into trouble writing my other stuff. It remains to be seen whether or not it’s worked, but this short scene and the next were what I churned out while waiting for my other muse to come back. One more thing. I’m not saying who the man is that Padmé’s thinking of. You’ll just have to read this scene to find out whether it’s Anakin or Obi-Wan. *uses an ambiguous icon to further confuse things*
It’s enough to jolt her out of a dead sleep. A small kick, up near her ribs, that makes her sit up in bed, clutching her stomach, momentarily disoriented, until she remembers. It’s not just me anymore, it’s US, Padmé thinks as she massages her belly gently. She imagines that she’s touching her babies. Imagines that she doesn’t have to wait two months more to actually do so, that she can connect with them on some deep, inner level.
And that he is beside her.
Padmé shifts in bed to find a more comfortable position, and flicks on her light when she realizes that sleep is once again eluding her. She turns and watches the brightness of the traffic flowing by outside her window. Ever restless, her imagination flicks to him again and she wonders what he’s doing at that moment, whether he is thinking of her. Her chrono reads 4:45 a.m., so probably not. “He’s probably asleep,” she murmurs to the twins. “He always was a deep sleeper. I wonder if he dreams about us. He told me once that he did.”
A baby kicks again, almost in answer, and Padmé’s smile alone could light the room. “He loves you very much, you know,” she says softly. “He has a gruff exterior sometimes, but underneath he’s sweet. Underneath … he really wants to be a father. You should have seen his face when I told him about you both. He cried.”
She grins at the memory. She never would have expected that, not from him at any rate. He was trained to be so stoic and unflappable. To release his emotions into the Force. He is a Jedi, and Jedi are not allowed to love, or feel passion, or have families. So many opportunities are denied them, Padmé thinks. He told me once it’s to protect them from the Dark Side, but … to feel emotions, to love, is something that happens to any being. And he wants this. I can feel it.
She wishes he would come to her, but knows why he can’t. Duty calls as it has always called. She doesn’t want him to neglect his duty, just for her. She is small and insignificant compared to the work involved in fighting the Clone Wars, saving the galaxy from the Sith who are supposedly lurking in the shadows. Besides, she has her own preoccupations and tasks to complete.
“Living for three is a lot of work,” she smiles to her stomach.
In her weaker moments, Padmé daydreams. Daydreams of a time when they can all be together on Naboo. Caring for the children, whom she has already decided will be named Luke and Leia. Waking the babies in their cribs each morning, in her Varykino resort, by the gardens. Feeding them and playing with them. Their father teaching them to swim. Running in the fields, having picnics, him reaching out and beckoning to Leia as she totters on the edge of taking her first steps. “Leia … come to Daddy!” She can hear him now, he will be a wonderful father.
Padmé slides underneath the blankets. She can sleep for another two hours before she needs to rise and attend to her duties that day. And she is tired; this small period of wakefulness and speaking to her children has helped to soothe her back to sleep. She pulls the covers over herself, snuggling down and once again wrapping a protective arm around her belly. The twins will sleep cuddled in her embrace.
And as she drifts off, the name of their father slips from her lips. An involuntary utterance. More a wish than a plea.