It was just another night on Coruscant. Ships, speeders and trains rushed by, their headlights illuminating the black skies, and the sound of their engines keeping the fatigued citizens awake.
Padmé Amidala was no exception. She had given up trying to sleep, and had gone into the living room in her robe. She'd developed a worrying, time-consuming habit. She would sit down, think for a minute, before starting to itch and shiver, then she'd get up, pace up and down the balcony of her beautiful apartment up to ten times, walk back to the sofa, repeat. But it wasn't the outdoor noise that was keeping her awake, it was fear. A fear that plagued her every night, and yet never got any easier. It was the all-consuming worry that tonight might be the night, the night her husband didn't come home.
It wasn't the first time she'd felt this way, Anakin was a Jedi after all, putting himself in danger was his greatest talent, and she was well accustomed to him coming home late, but this was different, something didn't feel right.
Padmé had begun her day much like any other, until a negative shadow was cast on it by the news of Ahsoka's departure. She could only begin to imagine how deeply this would affect Anakin, and she made a great effort to keep her schedule clear. He would need her comfort, her love, and she would do everything in her power to give it.
This was until she was called in, suspiciously impromptu, by the office of the Supreme Chancellor. Upon arriving there, she was greeted Chancellor Palpatine himself, who informed her that there had been a serious trade dispute among various Republic diplomats on Malastare, and that only his best senator could be trusted to find a peaceful solution. She wanted to decline, to be there for her husband, but she knew she couldn't. She had a duty, just like him. She wouldn't like it if he abandoned his commitments for her, so she did as she would wish to be done by, and followed her orders.
She returned to her apartment and asked her bodyguard, Captain Typho, to prepare her ship. While she was waiting, she ran into her protocol droid, C3-PO, who despite being a generally worrisome individual, was clearly more on edge than normal. He hadn't heard from his faithful friend R2-D2 for quite some time, and was concerned for his safety. He had a real soft spot for that old astromech, although he would never admit it.
Padmé was forced to brush these worries aside, for the sake of her mission. Once her ship was ready, she rendezvoused with Typho at Docking Bay 13, and they took off, bound for Malastare.
It was a good thing she wasn't in charge of flying the ship. Such a task required one's full focus and concentration, and Padmé's was elsewhere. All she could think about was Anakin. Where was he? How was he feeling? What could he possibly be going through? She felt terrible. Her husband was going through hell, in dire need of care and attention, and here she was, running some trivial errand for the Chancellor!
Their journey lasted them far too long; Malastare was light years away from Coruscant. Even in hyperspace, this old ship wouldn't get them there anytime soon. It was at least three hours before they finally entered the appropriate star system. Given the time difference, three hours for her must have been days for Anakin, she dreaded to think how long he'd been waiting.
Finally, they touched down on Malastare. She was less than enthusiastic about negotiating with its inhabitants, the Dugs, for she'd had a bad experience with one of them herself many years earlier. However, upon beginning discussions with their representative, Nakha Urus, it became apparent that the so-called "serious trade dispute" was not nearly as "serious" as the Supreme Chancellor had made it out to be, and coincidentally enough, it had only arose today; nothing more than a simple argument over shipping routes. The argument was put to rest within minutes, and Padmé couldn't help wondering why Palpatine claimed that "only his best senator" would be up to the task.
Once she was certain that the matter was resolved, she instructed Captain Typho to make up the time with a speedy return to Coruscant. The flight back was worse than the one there, she was getting restless, anxious. It was at times like these that she wished she possessed the same powers as her husband, just so she could always communicate with him through the Force.
Soon, she thought, just hang on.
When she returned to Coruscant, she hurriedly passed by the Chancellor's office to inform him of her successful mission. She contemplated questioning him on the sheer pointlessness of it all, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, just smiled and nodded, and the old man responded in kind, though it seemed somewhat forced, he was clearly not in the best of moods, not that she cared.
She dashed back to her apartment, and waited. The sun was just coming in, the day was coming to an end. She was in two minds regarding what to do next. Her first thought was to wait for Anakin, but knowing him, and knowing this war, she knew she'd only be cheating herself out of a good night's sleep. She tried to reassure herself that tonight was just like any other, and that she would wake up tomorrow morning, with her loving husband miraculously in front of her, having arrived during the night, but she was struggling to believe it. She lay under the covers for at least two hours, with her eyes shut tightly. She could hear the hum of vehicles passing by her window, and she buried her head in her pillow to cover her ears, but it was no good. There was only one thing for it. She got up, slipped into her robe, went into the living room, and waited.
The hours passed. It was almost dawn, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Every inch of her body was crying for rest, for sleep, but she knew she needed to wait, she needed to be there for the one she loved. Suddenly, she was snapped back into hyper-awareness by the sound of a ship flying over her apartment. There were plenty of ships around during the night, but this one felt close, like it was heading right for her. She nervously stepped out onto the balcony, only to be horrified by the sight of a Separatist shuttle heading right for her.
Without a moment's hesitation, she dashed into her bedroom, opened her chest of drawers and grabbed her trusty ELG-3A blaster pistol. She didn't think for a second that she alone would be enough to repel the attackers, but if this was the start of an invasion, she wasn't going down without a fight. She ran back into the living room, and sure enough, the shuttle had parked right outside her apartment, and used its docking clamp to secure itself to the balcony. Padmé readied her weapon, preparing to face down whatever threat may lie within. The doors began to slowly open, and Padmé started to sweat. Was this the end? Had all her years of trying to find a peaceful solution come to this? Was she about to die here, just another casualty of war?
As the shuttle doors opened, Padmé was shocked by what she saw. The lights coming from within the ship made it difficult to tell who it was at first, but she could just about tell the outline of a figure, carrying another in their arms. As the figure began to descend down the landing ramp, with their fallen comrade in tow, Padmé's vision became clear, and she dropped her blaster in shock. The figure was none other than the former Padawan Ahsoka Tano, and the body in her arms was Anakin Skywalker.
Padmé rushed over, and placed her hand on the body's chest, she felt a wave of calm sweep over her as she detected a heartbeat. She let out a sigh of relief. Together, the two of them laid the young Jedi down on Padmé's settee.
"What happened?" Padmé asked, concerned.
"Simple," Ahsoka chuckled, "He saved me, so I saved him,"
Padmé smiled, she was about to offer her guest something refreshing after her clearly stressful experience, but Ahsoka responded before she could even ask the question.
"I can't stay," she said sombrely, "not anymore,"
"Won't you at least be there for Anakin when he wakes up? He might never see you again," Padmé persisted.
Ahsoka looked her friend in the eye, and gave a reassuring, though somewhat tearful, smile.
"We'll see each other again, I'm sure of that, but it needs to be on my terms now. I'm not a Jedi anymore, my part in this war is over, I have to find my own way now," Ahsoka explained regretfully, before starting to walk back to her newly-acquired ship. As she started, she suddenly reconsidered and turn back around. "But tell him this from me... if he ever needs any help, with anything, he'd better call!" she declared with a friendly giggle.
"Of course Ahsoka, it's the least I can do," Padmé replied.
With one last smile, Ahsoka came up with the best goodbye she could think of.
"May the Force be with you," she said.
And with that, she was gone. The doors closed behind her, and the ship took off into the night.
Padmé turned around, and looked at the battered, bruised and unconscious warrior lying on her couch. She ran her hand over his body, bent down, and kissed his forehead. Then, she sat next to him, and waited some more.
Before too long, she began to hear laboured breathing coming from her right. She looked down, and noticed Anakin's eyes slowly opening. Her own eyes lit up.
"Anakin!?" she exclaimed in delight.
Anakin groaned and tried to sit up, Padmé stopped him.
"Don't strain yourself, just rest," she said comfortingly.
"Padmé?" Anakin gasped.
The young Jedi rubbed his eyes. As soon as he was lucid enough to tell where he was, he jumped out of his skin.
"What? How did I get here? Where's Ahsoka? Is she..." Anakin blurted out in panic. The fear was suddenly calmed by the soothing feeling of his wife's hand on his shoulder.
"Sshhh," she uttered. "She's fine, she's safe,"
Anakin looked into Padmé's eyes, and into his own soul, and knew she was right. In a moment of sheer relief, he threw himself into the arms of the woman he loved. For the first time in days, he genuinely felt happy.
It wouldn't last.