InsaneJournal

Goodland was an adjustment, both in attitude and lifestyle. Gone were the elaborate costumes and intricate hairstyles, just like her monotone voice and demeanor had been packed away for a different day. Padmé was not quite sure what to do with herself now that she had no need to be in a position of power. Plus there was the whole matter of the future of the Republic falling weighing in her mind. She had lashed out at Anakin and done her best to avoid him since she felt such shame at her reaction. Ani hadn't exactly done anything wrong, but while getting lost in anger she had said things she regretted. How did she even go about apologizing? She opened the door to her living quarters, a notebook tucked under an arm, and peered inside. It appeared that Sebastian was out once again. That roommate was elusive and overly polite when they did interact, but she felt he was hiding something.

Her lips formed a line as she stepped into the living space, shutting the door softly behind her as she did so, and glanced around. No sign of Ani either. A blessing and a curse. She set the notebook down on the coffee table just as she toed her shoes off. They were slid neatly under the table since she didn’t want to mess the space up. Even with all the droids and handmaidens in her life she had still learned to fend for herself in most household matters. Those skills were being tested in this place. Her gaze swept over the room again as she tried to see if there was anything she needed to do before going to hide in her room for a bit. Nothing seemed overly messy at the moment so she decided now was a good time to go read the various applications and pamphlets that she had stuck in her notebook. The young senator picked said notebook up and started to head towards her room when she heard something from Ani’s room. There was a moment of indecision as she fought with herself. He most likely wanted to be left alone, but the sound of those angry sniffles tugged at her heart for some reason, making her feel even more guilty. Padmé found herself knocking the back of her hand against his door, which swung open at the motion, and she wondered if she had chosen wisely.

“Ani,” the voice she used was cautious. “Do you need anything? I was going to make a cup of tea before bed if you would like one.” She was doing her best not to bring up the fact she had clearly heard him crying or the like. There was a faint flashback in her mind to that time on the ship where she had wrapped a younger Anakin up in a blanket to comfort him. Somehow she doubted that same tactic was going to work here, not after their rather immature argument.

She clutched her notebook to her chest with her arm as a sort of shield. Padmé honestly had no idea how he was going to react, but she was ready to give him space if that was what he wanted. There was a great chance she was overstepping her bounds.

He swallowed roughly when he heard the knock, his heart pounding even harder in his chest now that he knew he’d been discovered like this. Emotions were raging inside and Anakin was struggling -- no, failing -- to keep himself in check.

He’d always struggled with his emotions. Well, he hadn’t as a child. Despite being a slave, Anakin had been a happy kid that worked hard and found ways to enjoy himself despite his and his mothers’ situation. Going to the temple had been hard. He was leaving behind everything he knew and while he’d been freed, the whole thing was bittersweet with the death of Qui-Gon. Anakin had gotten to know the Jedi Master and as much as his heart was back home, he’d been looking forward to learning from him. Not to say that Anakin would trade his experience with Obi-wan for anything, not after everything they’d been through and grown to love each other, but at the time Anakin hadn’t known him. He got the impression that he wasn’t really welcome, seeing as he was kind of stealing his Master from him… and then there was the Council’s decision. If it weren’t for the promise that Obi-wan had made Qui-Gon during his dying breaths, Anakin would probably be back on Tatooine. Then again, if he’d been back on Tatooine then maybe his mother wouldn’t be dead.

Maybe he wouldn’t give up his time with Obi-wan for just about anything, but there had been a lot of turmoil between the two of them for a few years there. Anakin had been emotional and scared. Despite being ‘The Chosen One’ and excelling, no exceeding in his training, he’d never found himself very capable of making any friends. They all feared him or misunderstood him. He hadn’t grown up at the temple with them. He was just this sudden new kid that was part of a prophecy that did better than them in saber training, Force capabilities -- it all seemed unfair to them and Anakin couldn’t blame them. The point is that his only friend was Obi-wan, and that wasn’t much of a friendship for many years.

The death of his mother had changed him. There was nothing like holding your dying mother in your arms after she’d been beaten and tortured, and you hadn’t been there to stop it. Slaughtering those sand people… well, the memory of it still disturbed him. But now, on top of that, there were years of struggling with this… darkness inside of him. Anger constantly surged through him. Revenge was almost always an option during the war. And on top of that, so many other emotions seemed to rule him. He couldn’t seem to get a rein on them. There was the loss of Ahsoka, too. Such limited time to spend with Padmé… All of it was overwhelming, and on top of everything he was -- unknown to him -- being groomed by Palpatine. All of his emotions and anger toward the Jedi Order were being justified and encouraged.

And now he was in this place with all of these people he didn’t know. A granddaughter who he couldn’t seem to get on the same page with. Cal, who he found commonality with, but who had now told him more than Anakin could comprehend, and then Padmé had shown up as an eighteen year old. Everything had bubbled up -- his whole life, seemingly -- and now it was all overflowing.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, facing away from the door, Anakin’s shoulders trembled and fear and embarrassment swept through him. As she spoke he quickly brought his hands up to wipe at his face, but the tears just kept coming. Embarrassed as he was and as much as she wasn’t his wife, there was still comfort that entered the room with her. Not enough to vanquish the despair he was feeling over everything, and in particular what he’d done to Dooku, but it was still something.

Anakin didn’t turn to face her. Instead, he wiped at his face again and tried to level the trembling going through his body -- both from the crying and the rage.

“I don’t--” He swallowed roughly again, his head throbbing from everything. “I don’t think I can drink anything right now.” Why was it still so easy to be more open with her than he would be with anyone else? She hardly knew him.

The sound of raw emotion in his voice hurt her as it wrapped around her heart like a vice. She pushed the door open further so she could step just over the threshold before she realized what she had done. Her feet had moved of their own volition and there was no taking back the fact she had invaded his room. “Do you want to talk,” Padmé asked as she clutched the notebook tighter to her chest. She was positive if she didn’t grip the notebook then she would be yanking Anakin into an embrace. He was not the little boy from Tatooine, he was a grown man now, and that would be far too familiar. Yes, they seemed to banter easily and she felt comfortable around him, but it would hardly be seemly to act in such a way. She might not be a Queen or a Senator in Goodland, but she still knew how to behave in a proper manner. Rather, she had yet to shake the shackles of being a leader and could not quite bring herself to behave like someone that just hugged people.

Kriff, why was it easier to take care of a planet than it was to care for just one person? She needed her handmaidens here to help her.

“If you don’t wish to talk I fully understand. You just seem like you could use a friend.”

Padmé was torn with what to do in this situation. She felt as if she should just leave him to his very personal emotional moment, but her feet seemed rooted. Her knuckles were turning white from how tightly she gripped her makeshift shield. “I should go,” she finally said softly. Before she could stop herself she moved to place a hand in a ghost of a touch against his back before she turned to actually leave. Her foot falls stopped just at the door as she stared down at her socked feet.

She was suddenly upset at this place. How cruel it was that she was not the proper age for him! She had no idea what he was going through and had no idea how to help him. She didn’t know the right words. The Jubilant Entity had to know what chaos it was causing by yanking people from different points in time.

“I am sorry, Ani.” It was an awful feeling to wish she was someone else, but she did. She wished she was the person that could comfort the Jedi. He probably despised her now and she did not blame him.

A friend. That was a blow that he wasn’t expecting. Maybe he should have been, considering he knew full well that she was eighteen and there was nothing between them -- nothing like there was back home. Still, he felt breathless for a moment -- and not because he was crying -- and had to force himself to accept their situation. Again.

“Don’t go,” he murmured as he looked over his shoulder at her. She was so close to leaving and he honestly didn’t think he could handle it if he lost her company right now. It was literally the only thing gluing him together as his heart ached so terribly. The tears continued to fall, the Jedi unable to make them stop as much as he wanted them to. The pain was clear in his eyes, along with a million other emotions. He didn’t trust himself right now, not anymore, but he knew he would never, ever do anything to hurt her, and so she seemed like the best person to be around right now. She was always the best person to be around.

“I need someone.” It took everything in him not to say you, but despite that effort there was no hiding the pleading in his expression.

Don't go. Two simple words and yet they rooted her to that spot on the floor. She couldn't take another step to leave the room if she tried. Ani was hurting and it hurt her. Padmé glanced over her shoulder, unprepared for the raw emotion on his face. She found herself turning back towards him as her grip loosened on the notebook. She was already moving towards him when the notebook fell from her grip, forgotten in her need to comfort him. The book hit the floor in an explosion of mess. Pamphlets and fliers skidded across the floor just as she sank down onto the bed next him. She didn't think as she pulled him in for a hug.

"Oh, Ani," her own voice was ripe with emotion. It hurt her to see him like this and she desperately wanted to fix whatever was wrong.

"Let me help you." She didn't know how. She didn't even know what was wrong. Padmé rested her head against his shoulder as she just tried to be there for him. "Tell me what is wrong. Tell me what to do, Ani." In some ways this reminiscent of when he was a little boy, but magnified. She hadn't been expecting such open pain and grief from a Jedi and part of her felt like he was giving her a secret. Something between just the two of them, which was ridiculous. She was a mere Senator that just happened to know him, but she was going to everything she could to help him now.

It felt like something fell back into place when she embraced him. Anakin knew deep down that he shouldn’t let this happen -- shouldn’t let himself fall into her when she was from such a different time. She barely knew him, but he couldn’t let go of just how well he knew her.

There was the briefest second of hesitation before his arms rose and he returned the hug, securely wrapped around her as he shifted slightly on the bed so that he wasn’t twisted to the side. It was so easy to give in to the comfort and let his feelings for her overcome him. For a moment he let it happen. Anakin held onto her for dear life and cried, letting so much of the pressure out. It felt so natural, being there with her like this and letting her hold him, but it was only a matter of time before he had to force himself to deal with reality. He couldn’t tell her what was wrong. There was so much she didn’t know about and so much that he feared would turn her away from him if he did reveal it. Even Padmé back home didn’t know about the war raging inside of him. So many darker sides to him that he had to fend off from trying to snuff out the light.

Being here was like a strange vacation from all of that. He had time to think and possibly correct, but Anakin was constantly too consumed by grief for what he’d done that it seemed impossible. How could he ever tell anyone everything that had happened? At least back home she knew already about the Sand People. Here he couldn’t imagine revealing that to her. She barely knew him. They hadn’t sparked that connection yet -- he hadn’t so blatantly shown her how he felt about her here. He was just a grown up version of this little kid she met once.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like this.” It was true. As a Jedi he was supposed to be in control of his emotions and wasn’t supposed to dwell on things, to attach to things. Yet here he was, in the arms of the person he loved most in the whole galaxy -- or the universe, whatever it was they were in -- and yet she wouldn’t know just how much she was holding him together. Anakin was honestly afraid of what might’ve become of him here if she hadn’t shown up. Telling her what was really wrong wasn’t an option, though.

She hadn't expected him to hug her back and she certainly hadn't expected the onslaught of tears that seemed somehow much more emotional, but somehow she clung to him. Padmé buried her face against his shoulder as he wept and simply let her heart weep. What had happened to the little boy she knew to cause such grief and pain? When he finally spoke she pulled back, not quite breaking contact and gave him a faint look. A hand came up to cup his cheek as she gave him a sad smile.

"I won't tell if you won't," there was the faintest of teasing in those words, but she was serious. "Ani, I know I shouldn't encourage this, but we are hardly in the Jedi Temple. If you need to cry, then cry. Bleed off whatever is hurting you. Bottling it up is hardly going to help. You are still human, despite being a Jedi." Being emotionless and rational all the time seemed like a lot of work and she did not envy those called to the Order. Padmé gave into her emotions all the time and so far it had served her well.

"I suppose I would have made a bad Jedi. I have always been far too stubborn," she mused out loud in a faint attempt to draw his attention to other things. She wanted to ask what was troubling him so, but they weren't that close. What right did she have to ask him to expose the source of his pain? Padmé merely leaned forward and pulled him into another embrace. She clung to him as she failed at saying any words of comfort. Without knowing everything she didn't know how to even begin patching up the emotional injuries. "But as stated I hardly know anything-"

She winced as she realized she was bring up their fight.

"I'm sorry. Ani, I wasn't angry at you, but I took it out on you. My heart was breaking from the things I learned and I just… I shouldn't have done that and I fully understand if you think less of me. I think less of me, but… I want to fix this."

His chest seemed to rattle as he inhaled when she pulled back enough to look at him. His breathing was shaky as the tears continued to fall, and blue eyes fell on brown as she cupped his cheek. What he would’ve given for her to realize what that meant to him -- what it meant for her to comfort him like that.

Still, he couldn’t open up as much as she wanted him to. Bottling it up was the only thing he knew to do. Some things just couldn’t be let go like the Jedi would want him to. Anakin was terrible about keeping attachments so close to his heart, and that included mistakes he’d made. This Padmé didn’t know about other things he’d done, so he couldn’t exactly try and explain what had happened with Dooku without possibly shattering anything between them. She was eighteen and newly a senator. She knew him best as a nine year old boy from Tatooine, not a Jedi Knight with too many emotional problems.

He wanted to tell her that so many of the Jedi were stubborn. Maybe they didn’t mean to be, but the entire council was based on stubbornness if you asked him. The old ways weren’t what he considered to be the right way anymore, but there was no changing their minds. He couldn’t start to go down that rabbit hole, though. It was only making the emotions harder to control and the tears still hadn’t stopped falling.

“You were right, though.” He swallowed thickly, taking a moment to breathe before continuing. “I should have told you what I knew.” Should he have, or tell her now, what he knew about Jaina and Luke? He wasn’t so sure about that. Maybe when more time passed. Granted, it would probably get out before he could lay it on her gently. Ugh.

“Don’t…” Anakin shook his head, raising his left hand to wipe away more tears, but being careful not to nudge her hand away from how it was on his cheek. The physical contact was partially holding him together. “Don’t blame yourself. We were both out of line and reacting based on emotion. I can’t fault you for how you felt about what you learned… We fought so hard for the Republic and to find out that it was all for--” He couldn’t say nothing. Fighting for what was right was never for nothing.

Anakin shook his head and cast his gaze down between them, noticing how his right arm was still extended out to her, and how his hand so naturally shifted to her waist. “Consider it fixed.”

Part of her wanted to point out she was always right, but knew that would be an ill timed sentiment at this moment. So the former Queen of Naboo merely pursed her lips together as she finally reached up with her other hand to wipe some of the tears off his cheeks. Padmé did not think anything less of Anakin in this moment, if anything she felt like she knew a side of him no one else did. It was a peculiar thought and she let the hand fall back to her lap, leaving her other again his cheek.

“Oh, Ani,” she breathed out. “This has to be so much harder for you. You have lived through things I have not and I acted like a spoiled child.” He had looked like he had been forged in war when she first encountered him and that assessment had never left her. He was not the boy who loved podracing anymore. The man crying in front of her was a soldier and it hurt her very heart to think the galaxy had done this to him.

A wet laugh escaped her and that was when she realized she was dangerously close to shedding her own tears. Padmé leaned forward so she could press her forehead to his as she closed her eyes. “I will do better in the future,” she promised. “Not to lash out at you. I do not do well when I cannot find a way to control a situation.” Goodland made her feel like she was falling from a spaceship with nothing below her. Her place was unknown and the fight with Ani had made it feel like she was hurtling faster towards something she would not be able to handle.

“I am still sorry for my part in this,” she said as she pulled back to look at him again. “You confuse me and I find it hard to control my emotions around you.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, but she made no attempt to steal them back. No, instead, she merely gave him a sad smile.

“Perhaps we can work at being more diplomatic if a situation like this arises?” The anger and hurt she had felt still swirled slightly around her, but as she had said most of it was at herself. She was ashamed of how she reacted.

“Are you ready for some tea now?” She slowly started to pull her hand away from his cheeks, fingers trailing against his jaw. “A good cup of tea can be rather soothing for the soul.”

His pale eyes watched her as she spoke so closely to him, taking in the way that she touched her forehead to his and how she wiped away his tears -- not to mention the way her fingers trailed against his jaw. A little shiver ran through him and he had to adamantly remind himself once more that this was not his wife he was having this intimate moment with. He had to stop himself from holding onto her waist more or catching her hand as she pulled it away so that he could pull her in and hold her, maybe kiss her. None of that could happen. She didn’t know and despite the fact that they had fought because he hadn’t told her something, now didn’t seem like the right time to drop the family thing on her.

Anakin was very aware that Padmé found it hard to control her emotions around him. He felt everything with her, he always had, but it was different with her being at this stage in her life. Sure, they bickered back home sometimes, but she wasn’t typically so… explosive.

Shoving everything back inside, Anakin forced himself to stop thinking about Dooku and everything going on inside of him. All of the temptations and darker thoughts he’d been having for so long now. At least this fight between them had been good for something -- she hadn’t probed for very long about what else was bothering him. There was a time and a place to share that information and he was absolutely sure that it was back home somewhere.

“You’re pretty confusing yourself, you know?” He sniffed at the end of the sentence and brought his hand that had been at her waist up to wipe at the tears again after she had. It was time to pull himself together. Pack it all back in and worry about it another time when he was alone -- actually next time. “And it’s been a long time since I’ve been any good at being diplomatic, but I’ll try--” Anakin paused for a moment, his lips parted as he watched her. “For you.”

Another sniff and he shifted on the bed, his hand shifting to touch delicately over hers still lingering there on his face. “Maybe not tea for me.” A little smile ghosted over his lips for the first time since she’d found him. “I’ve never been very fond of it.” Tea wasn’t something they could afford on Tatooine, let alone want to drink it in the first place. It was too blasted hot there. As he grew, all of his experience with it was limited, something occasionally forced on him by Obi-wan, who enjoyed the beverage much more. His master had always been trying to get him to try new food and drink, but the tea had just never stuck. Maybe because it did remind him of home -- no, Tatooine -- which led to thoughts of his mother.

“But I’ll sit with you if you’d like. Water would be good.” His voice was a little hoarse from all of the crying.