A lesson of the heart

Flower in a pond

Luke and Leia. Luke and Leia. Luke and Leia. Her children's names were like a mantra in her head. They were born, they were safe right there in Obi-Wan's arms and Master Yoda was there and Bail... They were named and healthy and cared for and protected and whatever felt like it was sucking the life out of her couldn't get them. Her life force was being drained away, she didn't know who was doing it or how or why, but she knew, she could feel it. It was as if her mind and soul were a flower gently floating on the lazily rippling surface of a pond and that pond was her life, her strength, and someone was sucking the water out of the pond. She couldn't see or hear it, she felt it. As if there was a gigantic hole in her torso and someone was steadily pulling her life out of her like a long string of yarn. Padmé didn't want to die, she wanted to raise her children, she wanted to stand up and lend her voice to a fight for justice once more, wanted to throw Palpatine from the pedestal he'd put himself on, wanted to see the reaction of her family back on Naboo when she introduced them to the twins. But she couldn't because her body was dying, and it was dying fast. 'Lost the will to live'? Yeah, sure! All the fight left in the Nubian senator wanted to scream. This wasn't her decision; it wasn't her that was giving up. Her spirit was as strong as ever, determined to carry on somehow, but her dying body wouldn't let her express herself and dulled her mind. The hours of birth were excruciatingly long, exhausting and painful, but now her children were alright, Obi-Wan was by their side and she felt the last bit of strength leaving her... "Obi-Wan...", she got out through laboured breathing, gaining the man's attention. "There's good in him.", she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, used her last bit of strength to try and convince Obi-Wan to save Anakin, so that her children might at least have their father, "I know- I know there's...still..." The world faded away as Padmé slipped into the calm embrace of death-

And awoke beneath a familiar night sky. For a moment she lay there in the grass and didn't dare to breath, afraid that the stars above would fade to black again. But when it became necessary to inhale air and nothing changed upon her shuddering breath breaking through the silence, she broke out of her stupor to shakily sit up and take in her surroundings. She was on Naboo, somewhere in the grasslands no doubt, she'd always recognize her homeworld. Padmé wanted to know how that was possible, but there was no one around to ask, she was utterly alone in the middle of nowhere. And she was still in pain. The twins had been born as quickly as possible, but no one had bothered themselves with the afterbirth, seeing as she had been actively dying just minutes ago, so that bit of fun was yet to come. Padmé let her head fall back with an equally pained and annoyed groan, leaned back on her elbows, and pulled up the simple white dress they'd put her in in the medical facility. She'd been too out of it to ask where her children had actually been born. Dragging in a deep breath, Padmé got to work. The night was filled with huttese curses, overheard and thus indirectly learned from her wayward husband, before Padmé switched through all other languages she knew, only to end with basic once more, cussing everyone and everything out that came to mind, overall the entire galaxy. She cursed herself for not noticing Palpatine's game and not being able to help Anakin, the same going generally for all the Jedi, cursed Obi-Wan for making so many mistakes with him, trying to be a perfect Jedi, cursed Qui-Gon for shoving that responsibility at him in the first place, setting them up for failure, cursed Anakin for giving in and falling like that because of her, cursed the senate for being corrupt, cursed Palpatine for being worse than any son of a hutt could ever be, cursed Bail and Yoda for standing there, staring at her through glass walls as she gave birth with only some protective hood to cover her spread legs, no privacy whatsoever, as if she was an interesting experiment to be observed as the wife of a fallen Jedi giving birth to his children- Padmé might've had more time of pain ahead of her, but she also had enough things to be angry about to make her push through it. She'd manage. She always did.

Vader hadn't planned nor intended to doze off. It had been only hours since he'd been stuffed in that horrible suit that would imprison him for the rest of his life, only hours since he'd been informed that all of his efforts had been for naught, that in the end, he'd killed Padmé, and by extension their child, himself. His wild swirling emotions should've kept him awake and furious, should've fed the dark side that would let him keep going. But eventually they had worn him down and tired him out instead and he'd dozed off sitting on the hard bench in these quarters, since his aching legs had nearly given out, on the way through hyperspace to get to wherever Sidious wanted him to be. He knew that he was dreaming as soon as he saw Padmé. Of course, his mind just had to torture him like that. She was standing at the shore of a lake surrounded by seemingly endless fields of long luscious green grass, her skin and hair glistening silver, maybe from sweat, looking every bit like an angel in the light of three moon's, so it was probably Naboo, wearing a simple white gown that looked a bit like it belonged to a medical facility and was billowing a little in the soft breeze that was also ruffling Padmé's dark curls and creating small rippling waves on the surface of the lake. He watched as she lifted her gaze to the stars glowing in the night sky, tears springing from her eyes and running down her face for a moment before she lowered her head and angrily wiped them away. "Anakin, you idiot!", she exclaimed to the nightly silence, the words equal parts anger, grief and pain. "Padmé. I know.", he tried to answer, but she seemed unable to notice him. Instead she stood there, focusing on her breathing for a moment to calm herself down like he'd seen her do so many times before. No more, his traitorous mind whispered bitterly. Then he was distracted by Padmé's movement as she slightly lifted her gown to reveal fine rivulets of blood running down her legs. Only then did he really notice how the dress stretched over her pregnancy bump and the way her whole body was oh so slightly trembling. "Padmé!", he yelled, panic surging through his veins as he got momentarily lost in the dream, forgetting that he'd already lost her. His own yell, horribly distorted by his suit's vocal output, awoke him from his slumber. Instinctively he tried to reach for his wife in the force, but she was gone. Dead. And he was her murderer.

A long, long time ago in the same galaxy far far away, Padmé slipped out of her white gown to cleanse herself in the lake, washing blood and sweat away, before she let the mild breeze dry her hair and skin and put the gown back on, falling asleep on the shore, since she was too exhausted after hours of birth and the short trek to the lake to wander any further.