On the Wings of Valkyrie

Chapter XLIII

It was a bittersweet memory that sent pieces of shrapnel into her heart; they all were, most did, but this one especially.

"Luna, could you help me with this?"

"Sure thing, Padmé."

The girl put down her pencil and got up from the couch, quickly moving to the Senator's side in the kitchen to help mix ingredients together in a bowl while Padmé walked away to grab something from the cabinet.

"Are you sure you don't want me—"

"The med-droid said no heavy lifting, not that I can't take things off of shelves," the woman interrupted even as she rubbed a loving hand on her ever growing stomach.

"I was just offering," Luna responded, raising her hands in surrender. "Don't want Anakin to yell at me." Padmé laughed.

"As if he would."

"He might."

"He wouldn't. And if he did, I'd just have to talk sense into him."

"Don't you dare start a fight over me," Luna had half muttered under her breath. Padmé had turned sharply to study her companion, though it was difficult considering the girl's back was to her.

"Did you say something?" the woman asked, her tone hiding the concern on her features.

"Nothing!" the teen chirped, turning and flashing a quick smile, as though she had a sixth sense and had known Padmé had grown worried about the words she hadn't been meant to hear. "Just I'm sure there's other things the two of you would rather talk about than me."

"I suppose," she responded even as she moved to the girl's side to brush some loose strands of dark hair that had escaped the teen's ponytail from the girl's face as the woman decided to shift topics. "Those hair bands you brought from Earth don't seem to be doing their job properly."

"When do they? Doesn't help they've gotten way too stretched out for proper use."

"Why don't I braid your hair tomorrow morning?" Padmé offered. Luna's head shot up to look at the Senator in surprise.

"Really? Would it be alright? Would you have the time? I don't want to—"

"I would be happy to, Luna. Maybe I could even teach you some of the Naboian braid styles."

"....I'd like that," the teen finally said, a grin finding her features and lighting up her usually too collected and distant appearance. It looked realer than her other smile had—one learns to pick up on such things when surrounded by politicians. Padmé had slowly but surely begun peeling back the fabricated mask Luna always had on ever since the woman had first noticed it....a couple months ago now—strange how it felt like they'd known one another forever. It was slow work—the teen knew what she was doing it seemed—but was starting to become rewarding in the fact that Padmé was no longer able to be fooled by a few simple words paired with a smile. Luna acted like an adult, acted brave and as though she knew with perfect certainty everything would be alright—but at the end of the day she was just a girl thrown into a galaxy that was full of hidden dangers and was just as scared as anyone else.

More than anyone else, actually. But the teen hid it well....though not as well as she had been doing before. Stress was wearing her down and part of Padmé couldn't help but wonder what Luna could have possibly gone through to be able to keep it up for so long with everything that was happening.

The Senator's thoughts were broken off by the sound of a speeder. Anakin was home.

Luna seemed to be on the same wavelength as the girl seemed about ready to sprint from the room to welcome the Jedi, but the teen held herself back, seeming to have second thoughts on the matter.