Chapter Text
Padme was more than used to Anakin leaving on dangerous missions for extended periods of time, and while she was always worried, a part of her simply knew he would return to her. He was the strongest person she knew, a brilliant general and powerful Jedi. But something about this Grievous mission, and with Luke being missing … She found herself tossing and turning at night, helpless against the visions of a sweet little boy being shot to death by a group of battle droids, or her husband’s limp body in a ditch on some faroff planet, killed by something neither of them understood.
When she ultimately gave up on sleep, she turned to the holonet. By now, the reports of Grievous’s death had become a hot topic galaxy-wide. Theories about who - or what - might have killed him. If it was a conspiracy on either the Separatist or Republic side. How this would affect the tide of the war. As much as Grievous’s death was a victory for the Republic - and even to Padme’s motions in the Senate, with bills and orders for more troops, military fundings and occupations being questioned now that they have the upper-hand - something about it didn’t feel right. Too easy.
She checked her comm regularly for a message from Anakin, or even from Obi-Wan, but there was nothing. Which wasn’t entirely unusual, but it did little to help with her nerves. She continued to throw herself into her work, spent time with Bail and Breha when she could. Every once in a while, she would take a trip to the Chancellor’s Office for some well-needed advice.
One day, bleary-eyed and practically stumbling her way through the senate building, she was so beside herself that she ran face first into another woman, whom she hadn’t registered until too late. Hard enough that her head knocked back and shot with pain.
“I am so sorry!” Padme said on instinct, patting down her black dress.
Her victim let out an irritated huff but said, “No, it’s alright. I got ahead of myself.”
It took a few blinks for Padme to realize who was standing in front of her.
Leia tucked the stray hairs from her updo behind her ears, chin lifted high with pride. This close to her, Padme was struck dumb - there was her father’s nose, her mother’s mouth. Her hair is dark and textured like Padme’s, but finer. They are the exact same height. It’s strange to see so much of herself in one person.
When Leia nodded in respectful farewell and began to step around her, Padme’s panic snapped her out of her stupor. “Leia! Leia, wait!”
Leia turned over her shoulder and raised a brow that felt all too familiar.
“I …” Padme searched, grasped. Every year of political training thrown out the window by one woman. “I just … Are you busy? Would you like to join me for some tea?”
Leia examined her for a moment, eyes sharp and scrutinizing. Then, she smiled a polite, practiced smile. “It would be an honor, Senator Amidala.”
Technically, Padme had a meeting with Senator Ono’s replacement in fifteen minutes. But she quietly asked Dorme to handle it, though she avoided her curious handmaidens’ eyes at the request. But, as usual, they did not press the matter.
They agreed to have their tea in Padme’s penthouse, which she’d signaled Threepio to clean every inch of before their arrival. Leia, to Padme’s surprise, agreed to accompany her on the ride there, although no conversation was had. While Leia seemed stoic and content, Padme’s stomach was fluttering so much she thought she might keel over the side of the speeder.
Her heart thundering in her ears, Padme dismissed Threepio and the handmaidens from the balcony once the table was set, trying to gather control of her trembling hand as she poured Leia’s cup of tea. Leia merely stared out at the setting sun and bustling skyway, none the wiser.
“I’m glad I ran into you, actually,” began Leia as she sipped her tea (no sugar or milk, Padme tucked into a corner in her heart). “I saw you at the meeting with the Chancellor, so I know you are aware of my situation, and my father has always spoken of you with high regard. I believe you could be a valuable ally to me as an active member of the senate, and close companion to the Chancellor.”
Padme fought to control her breathing. Leia was here on … business? Alright. Padme could do that. She did that all the time. If that’s what Leia needed. “Of course, I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
Leia studied her for a moment. “I’ll admit, I thought it would take a little more convincing of an esteemed senator such as yourself, even if I am Bail Organa’s future daughter.”
Padme’s stomach dropped as she realized her mistake, even if she thought it would be obvious to Leia why she would want to help. She fought to keep a wobbly smile. “I, of course, want what’s best for the Republic, same as you. Although I won’t lie to you, you and Luke being so close to my heart is an additional factor.” Too much? Padme bit her lip.
Leia blinked at this, seemingly caught off-guard for the first time since Padme’s known her. “Luke and I? What do you …?”
“Pardon me, Mistress Padme,” Threepio interjected, having somehow toddled into the room without Padme realizing. “But I just realized that I forgot the jogan fruit for you and your guest. I am so very—”
Leia shot up from her chair, eyes trained on the protocol droid. “Threepio?”
Threepio tilted his golden head to the side, gears whirring as he examined Leia. “Pardon me, miss, but have we met before, or is my memory log malfunctioning?”
Slowly, so very slowly, Leia turned back to Padme, eyes shining brightly.
Padme stood, but refrained from reaching out to touch Leia’s cheek. “Leia? Are you alright?”
Leia didn’t answer, only stared as though seeing her for the first time, chest heaving. “It’s you …”
Padme choked on a gasp as she realized.
She knew she must have died when Leia was very young for her to have been in Bail and Breha’s custody, and perhaps this was why she gravitated toward them instead of her. But this? Surely Bail and Breha would have ….
“Leia,” Padme’s voice wobbled, “do you not know who I am?”
Tears began to leak from Leia’s eyes. “All this time, Father was telling me to reach out to you. I didn't realize it was because … because you are …”
Padme couldn’t take it anymore just as Leia couldn’t. Leia fell to her knees, and Padme moved faster than she could think to pull her into her arms. Leia’s body was delicate for her strong presence, and something distinctly about the way she smelled (an earthy scent, beneath her pine perfume) was familiar and foreign all at once.
“How did I not know?” Leia sobbed into her shoulder. “How did I not recognize …?”
“Shh,” Padme crooned, stroking Leia’s soft hair even as tears fell down her own cheeks. “It’s not your fault, sweet girl.”
To Padme’s dismay, this only made Leia cry harder. Padme continued to hold her close, rocking gently. Her daughter.
“You were there from the beginning. Why else would you be one of the only senators present? What is wrong with me?”
“Oh Leia, please don’t blame yourself,” Padme choked. “You don’t know me, you can’t have known me.”
“But I did,” she sniffled, pulling away to stare deeply into Padme’s eyes. “I have a memory of you from when I was young. It just never occurred to make the connection.” She heaved another sob.
Something sickly welled in Padme’s gut at memory, singular. It all but confirmed everything she had suspected. Focus, she told herself. Focus on Leia and her needs.
Padme, finally trusting that whatever dismay Leia felt for Anakin didn’t apply to her, allowed herself to raise both hands to Leia’s cheeks to brush her tears away. “Oh, my girl,” Padme crooned. “You’re so beautiful. And strong. And intelligent. I’m so, so proud of you.” Leia’s face crumbled, and Padme kissed her on the forehead. “You’ve been through so much. I only wish I could help you.”
Leia gripped Padme’s wrists, but didn’t remove the hands from her face. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I can’t do this without Luke.”
Padme tightened her lips at the reminder of her missing son. “He will be okay, Leia. Anakin will find him.”
Leia scowled. “I don’t know what to feel about that.”
“You don’t have to feel anything.”
Leia closed her eyes. “Stars, that sounds like something Luke would say.”
“Really?” Padme was unable to stop herself from asking.
Leia offered a watery smile. “You’d love him. Every decent sentient does.”
“I already do,” Padme whispered, as if unveiling a secret. “And I already love you too.”
Leia threw her arms around her.
For weeks, Padme had thought this day would never come. That Leia had completely separated herself from her birth family, that she would never want to know Padme. Never expose herself to her in any way.
Yet, when Leia eventually calmed down and they moved to the long, curved couch in the sitting room, all of that changed. Leia was still hesitant to share too many specific details about the future, but she was far from closed-off about herself. About her likes and dislikes, the friends and family she’s made, her education and how she has led her life. A life of service, Padme was quick to discover.
Leia was funny, sharp, and forthright, all qualities Padme loved in Anakin. But she was also kind, wise, and poised, as much alike Anakin as she was different from him. It made Padme revel in the fact that Leia was quite literally the byproduct of her and Anakin’s love.
Their conversation went well into the night, and Padme felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Her daughter was a brilliant person. And even had they not been related, she’s certain they would’ve still been good friends, perhaps even allies in the Senate. Although Padme bitterly tried not to wonder about the state of the Senate in Leia’s future, or lack thereof.
Padme went to sleep after Leia’s departure with a great deal of weight lifted from her shoulders. Though some remained with the worry for Anakin and Luke, wherever either of them may be.
While they had discussed the specifics of what she could help with in the Senate, Leia would not reach out to Padme in the days that would follow, but still didn’t hesitate to say a happy hello on the occasions they would run into each other in the Senate building. It twinged a nasty feeling inside her, but Padme assumed that Leia would continue to gravitate towards the Organas for the majority of her time here, even after her reconciliation with Padme. She tried to not let it bring her down too much.
She was in her office working on a proposal (to pull funds from the armory to put into war relief stations, because stars know they’ve neglected that more than they needed to) when she got the comm from Anakin. The familiar beep had her filling her lungs so suddenly her chest burned, but she schooled herself and fumbled around with the button to answer him.
Blissfully, the hologram of her husband appeared. Even under his hood, she could see he was rugged and smeared with dirt and other substances she’d probably rather not know, but still handsome as ever. And, wonderfully, brighter than she last remembered him. His smile was a full, genuine grin, sunny as it was those years ago on Naboo - not even the tight, tired one that had become all-too-rare.
“Anakin!” His name was released from her lips in a whoosh of air.
“Padme! I’ve missed you. Come to the Council Chambers as soon as you’re able. I’m home, but there’s a lot we have to talk about.”
Normally, she’d be concerned at the words - the things they could imply. But Anakin seemed so unburdened, surely whatever this summoning was for couldn’t be so terrible.
“I’m on my way,” she said with a grin, though there’s a flutter in her stomach, a mix between elation and nerves.
Her mind swam with the possibilities as she summoned for a speeder. Had Luke been found? Was Grievous’s death truly a turn of good luck? Had Anakin discovered something about the future that meant it wasn’t as bleak as they believed?
The Coruscanti sky had already begun to turn a dusty pink by the time Padme reached the steps of the Jedi Temple, bidding her guards farewell. Her heart in her throat, she did her best to maintain her trained poise as she wove through the grand halls and wandering Jedi. Her eyes traced the passersby for any sight of Leia or Anakin, even as her mind whirred. She couldn’t help the sudden gasp of delight when she saw him.
Anakin’s back was turned to her, looking out one of the grand windows, but she could pick out his dark Jedi cloak and proud silhouette anywhere. His hair was much shorter than it had been when he left, which didn’t necessarily surprise Padme - she had a feeling he'd get sick of it at some point - although it did disappoint her some. But as delighted as she was to see him, she couldn’t find it in her to think too much of it.
She ran to him, her face hurting with the size of her smile. “Ani!” she whisper-yelled, tugging on his shoulder.
He turned to face her, just barely managing to catch her as she slammed into his chest. “Oh!” he exclaimed.
Padme’s blood halted in her veins. His arms were strong as always, but cautious, and she felt just a little closer to his face than she usually was. His scent, his hold, is familiar, but not.
She pulled back and looked at his face.
It was an honest mistake, really. The Jedi before her looked a great deal like Anakin - the same handsome cut of the chin, bright blue eyes and long lashes, sun-kissed complexion. But he was still not Anakin with subtle differences in his features and shorter height. Moreover, his kind, gentle eyes contained no recognition of her. But still … Stars, what a resemblance.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” The stranger’s tone is patient, but tinged with laughter.
“Oh! No, I don’t believe so, I mistook you for someone else,” Padme explained, cheeks burning. “I apologize.”
The unfamiliar Jedi’s answering smile was bright and forgiving. “Think nothing of it. What brings you to the Jedi Temple, Milady?”
The impatient part of her, as nice as this Jedi was, searched for a way to politely get around him as quickly as possible. But something, maybe those pretty blue eyes, told her to stay a moment longer.
“I’m here for a meeting with the High Council,” she decided to say.
“Really? I was just on my way back there. How about I escort you?” The Jedi stepped to her side and held out an arm.
Well … why not? With a smile, she took his arm.
“I have to admit, I’m glad I ran into you … or that you ran into me,” he began as they walked. “This is my first meeting with the full Council, and everyone here is so … stoic. It’s nice to see a fresh face.”
Padme giggled softly. “Yes, it can feel intimidating sometimes. Are you recently Knighted, or …?”
The Jedi tilted his head from side-to-side. “Depends on your point-of-view, I guess. My training was under unique circumstances.”
Solemness filled her. “I can imagine, with the war.”
The Jedi was quiet as he led her into the glass elevator, then as he took in the vast expanse of Coruscant with a childlike wonder.
“I assume you are not at the Temple often?” Padme asked.
Those eyes slid back to her. “You could say that. I also just …” He thought for a moment, the line of his mouth quirking to the side the way Anakin’s does when examining battle plans or fixing droids. “I’m in the epicenter of the galaxy right now, and for some reason, I feel more distanced from it than the Outer Rim. All this noise.”
“I think I know what you mean,” said Padme. “I work in the Senate. Sometimes I wonder if all the arguing we do ever actually leads anywhere, especially when there are people out there suffering.”
The Jedi huffed a bitter laugh. “The Force feels much like that right now. Confused and clouded with all these different voices.”
“That’s exactly how I feel. And I fear that we might make serious mistakes if we choose to take easier paths instead of taking the time to let diplomacy run its course.”
The Jedi’s face was somber. “It’s a shame. You miss so many opportunities when you refuse to listen and understand.”
Padme examined him for a moment, this unfamiliar Jedi, searched for any recollection of him from the holonet or war plans. “There are many Jedi in the Order, but I can’t help but be surprised I haven’t seen you before. Are you often on the front lines?” She began to feel sick.
“I try to avoid the war and its politics as much as necessary.” His tone is careful, measured. “Not really my area of expertise, you could say. But I do spend more time traveling from place-to-place, and that rarely has me in the Inner Core.”
“I see.” Padme supposed that made sense, though she’d never met a Jedi that didn’t return to the Temple frequently, particularly between missions. Although that would probably be why.
Just as they made it to the top floor, the Jedi’s commlink beeped on his wrist. He checked it as the doors slid open, and halted between them with a sigh.
“I’m afraid the Council will have to wait longer. There’s something I must attend to,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll have to leave you here, Senator. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Oh! Of course.”
With a polite bow of his head, the Jedi slid back into the elevator, and Padme waved at him as the doors shut behind her.
It was as she was walking down the warm-toned hallway that she realized she’d never asked him for his name. She chastised herself. Not only was it impolite of her, but a part of her really did want to know … perhaps he could’ve been a good friend or resource.
Soon, though, her internal self-beration would be halted by Anakin, the real one, waiting at the end of the hall. He immediately turned to her - his hair the same length as before, if a little longer. His smile when he saw her was a flashback to those years ago on Naboo, when it was just the two of them in the meadow.
Hastily checking that no one was around, she dropped all pretense and sprinted as fast as she dared into his arms - safe, warm, alive. Padme’s eyes burned with unshed tears at his heartbeat against her ear, the familiar scent of droid oil and metal and something earthy and distinctly Anakin.
“Oh, Anakin!” she gasped into his chest, only pulling away to put her hands to his face, pulling him closer down to scan every inch of it. “You really worried me this time.”
Anakin winced. “I was a little worried for a moment there myself, but everything turned out alright.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” Did you find Luke?
“That’s actually why I called you here.” To his credit, there was something like dismay in his voice. “Obi-Wan and I just finished briefing the Council on what we uncovered. The Council decided that you would be a better direct connection to the Chancellor to speak on behalf of the Senate, and relay the information.”
Padme sighed. As much as she missed Anakin, wanted to pester him for answers and spend time with him alone, she had to admit that this moment was pivotal for the war, for the Republic. So if she had to wait to talk to her husband about their children, if only for a little while, then she would.
“Alright.” She swallowed against the disappointment. “Shall we go, then?”
Anakin shook his head, and that stunning smile was back. “No. We still have to wait for Luke to get back.”
The name shot through Padme like a torpedo. The sudden rush of air into her lungs was subconscious and dizzying, and she couldn’t tell if the new wetness in her eyes was an aftereffect of that or Luke.
“You found Luke?” Her voice shook with barely-restrained hope.
Anakin’s eyes shone. “More like he found us. What did you think of him?”
Padme’s brows creased. “What did I …? What do you mean? I haven’t met Luke yet.”
Anakin tilted his head. “Yes you did. I just saw him in the elevator with you just now.”
It took her several moments of processing his words for it to click. In the elevator … the young Jedi, maybe a handful of years older than Anakin, whose eyes and smile were sweet but roguish and whose posture and voice were gentle but unyielding. She had never seen him before, had never known his name. And it was his first ever meeting with the Council …
Her hands slapped to her mouth to keep in the force of her gasp. Anakin’s large hands were firm and steady on her shoulders as her vision blurred. His face … Luke’s face, his everything, was so similar to Anakin’s. Even the way he spoke. How could she not have guessed?
“Oh Luke,” she swooned through her tears.
“Did he not tell you?” Anakin’s brow was creased.
“No, I didn’t even think to ask!” Padme exclaimed bitterly.
Did Luke even know who Padme was? Leia certainly hadn’t, and unless Luke was several years older than Leia, which didn’t seem like the case, she doubted he would have any memories she didn’t have. But she couldn’t tell Anakin that. Not here, not now.
Anakin thought for a few moments while he rubbed her arms, or he was letting her take the time to process the information. Whatever the case, he did so with pursed lips, as if he couldn’t quite tell whether to be upset.
Eventually, he sighed. “I guess that makes sense. He told me who he was when I asked, but it was almost like he was trying to get me to guess it before he did.”
Padme did her best to straight up her hair and makeup, thankful that she’d decided to go light and natural today. “It was a brief interaction. He said there was an emergency of some kind he had to attend to.” Padme paused as ice-cold horror shot through her blood. “Anakin, what if he’s going somewhere dangerous? What if it’s a trap?”
Surprisingly, Anakin’s response is a deep chuckle. “I think he’ll be okay, Padme. He knows he has to meet with the Council. Besides, I’ve seen him in a few moments of action. I think he can handle himself.”
But Padme’s thoughts kept going back to that gentle smile. “Are you sure? I know he’s apparently a Jedi, but even he said his training was unique …”
Anakin’s expression darkened. “Probably because of the lack of Jedi and the Republic being gone. I’d imagine his training wouldn’t be standard. None of the time travelers’ are.”
Oh, and if that wasn’t even more reason for her to worry. “Anakin, our galaxy is so different from his. I don’t like the idea of him being out there alone.”
Anakin’s mouth tightened. “I don’t either, but he’s still strong with the Force. If he doesn’t come back here in a few clicks, how about I go out and look for him? Deal?”
Padme wanted to argue with him, insist that they both go, but … the Council. “Deal.”
So they both stood, wrapped in each other’s embrace, staring at the elevator doors with trepidation. They should pull apart, she knew, but she felt herself needing Anakin’s presence, his comfort, in order to quell the heavy anxiety stirring in her.
Anakin took the time to give her a preface of his mission, choosing to leave some specifics for the Council. He told her about Grievous’s body, his death site. The Sugi’s attack and Tu-Anh’s death, then being saved by Mara. Mara, who had his lightsaber from the future and was accompanying Luke before he disappeared. The Amani tribe Luke had befriended, and ultimately their mysterious return trip to Mortis, which Padme still hadn’t entirely comprehended from the first time he’d been there. Luke rescuing them, how they found the dagger.
“It’s strange,” Anakin finished. “It was like he took the dagger and I fell asleep, then woke up in the Temple. We had to send someone to retrieve our ship from Utapau. And the Kyber Crystal is gone. Hopefully still on Mortis.”
Padme shook her head. “I won’t pretend to know anything about the Force, Anakin, but I find it hard to believe that any of that happened purely by chance. It was far too specific.”
“I hate to admit it, but I feel the same.”
Just then, the elevator doors chimed, and Anakin and Padme sprung apart. Padme waited with bated breath.
Out stepped Luke, just as she’d last seen him, and all the tension released from her body. He smiled at her politely, but his grin was wider when he saw Anakin.
“What are you both still doing out here?” Luke chuckled as he approached. “I thought the Senator had a meeting with the Council.”
Anakin raised a brow. “We can’t start without you, Genius. Is there any particular reason you didn’t tell your mother who you are?”
Luke blinked, his eyes owlishly wide as they snapped to Padme.
Padme tried to hold back her tears as Luke flushed. “I … I didn’t know—”
“It’s okay,” she barely got out of her trembling lips. Unable to resist anymore, she barrelled into Luke, grabbing him tight around the middle. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t know,” she whispered into his shoulder.
Cautiously, Luke’s arms came up to embrace her. She could’ve sobbed at the hesitation in them.
“It’s true then.” Anakin’s voice was rough behind her, and she could see in her mind’s eye that stormy look growing on his face. “She’s gone in your time.”
Padme could feel Luke’s heart skip, his body tense just slightly. “Yes. I … never knew her. Or who she was.”
Padme wasn’t Force sensitive, but she could feel the sadness, even the shame, in his voice. And that simply wouldn’t do.
Padme pulled away just enough to place her hands on either side of Luke’s head to force it down so she could meet his eyes at a more even level. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, Luke Skywalker,” she said under her breath. His eyes were wide and so, so bright. “None of this is your fault.”
Those eyes crinkled with his smile. “Yes ma’am.”
“Good.” She released him, then moved to his side, but kept an arm around his back.
Anakin’s eyes were on the ground with that dark, churning expression of his, but something - most likely Force-related - had him snapping out of it enough to examine Luke curiously, then Padme beside him. He smiled bittersweetly before moving to join them on Luke’s other side.
“Alright,” Anakin said. “I think the Council has waited long enough to meet my son.”