Redemption - A Star Wars Fanfic

Chapter 15

Padmé woke with a grunt, hands flying to her abdomen as a tremor ran up her spine, stilling her breath. The baby was kicking again.

She squinted across the dark bedroom at the chrono: only about three hours since Anakin and Luke had returned.

The image of the young man's pallid face, semi-lucid and barely able to hold down the soup she had been feeding him, hung at the edge of her mind, turning the already present and building anxieties in her stomach. It had already been such a long day. It seemed only natural that she wouldn't be able to sleep after everything.

Beside her, her husband snored obliviously on, his face mashed deep into the pillow and his arm outstretched in her direction, reaching for her hand even in sleep. She smiled down at him, momentarily content with watching the dim lights filter over his peaceful features. It was such a contrast to his usual harried breathing and cold sweats in the night. She wouldn't dare disturb him now, not over something as minute as a small kick.

As she gently traced her pinky down the outline of the scar over his eye, she leaned over to kiss his temple. Then, with the most delicate of movements, she uncurled the duvet piled on top of her and slipped her bare feet into the slippers by her bedside.

Her back popped in protest and she huffed, trudging languidly towards the fresher with a long yawn.

The baby kicked again, this time with more vigor. She let out a winded cough, kneading circles into her sides in hopes of calming the child inside of her. Moments like these made her wish she could tap into the Force as easily as Anakin. Instead, she was left to soothe the only way she knew how, from experience with her two young nieces—soft whispers of reassurance and physical attention.

By the time she slid before the mirror in the refresher, the pain was growing sharper, leaving her light-headed. The reflection that looked back at her was almost unrecognizable, her features gaunt from stress and exhaustion.

She ran a trembling hand down her cheek, pulling at the corners around her eyes and sighing deeply.

Another kick—this one pulling a groan out of her as she gripped the sink to stabilize herself.

A shift of covers came from across the room, Anakin's low, guttural snores fading out into a confused hum.

"Padmé?" he slurred, hoarse and half-conscious.

Padmé peered into the room to see him gripping awkwardly at her empty space on the mattress, his hair falling into his eyes as he squinted in the darkness. She barely got to open her mouth to tell him to go back to sleep before he was sitting up, other hand now searching for his lightsaber.

She rolled her eyes. Only Anakin would wake at such a minor sound of distress.

"Darling, I'm fine. In the fresher."

Anakin spun towards her voice, alarmingly fast for someone still in the process of waking up. He blinked owlishly at her a couple of times before sighing, his shoulders slumping easily back down into the warmth of their bed.

"Everything's good, then?" He rolled over to check the chrono. "It's pretty late."

Padmé stepped out of the fresher and back towards the bed, settling back into her spot, but not yet lying down. "The baby woke me up, that's all. Nothing I can't handle."

Flashing the charming smile that had made her fall in love with him all those years ago, Anakin shuffled closer to her side of the bed, reaching out to stroke her stomach with a gentle back and forth.

"Can you feel anything?" Padmé asked, curious.

"The kicking you mean?"

"No, through the Force."