Secretly Normal

Vegetables

     It's past evening and the sun has become nothing more than a sliver on the horizon. The colors of the night are starting to set in and everywhere lights from billboards and tall skyscrapers flicker on. The large city-planet comes alive as the weekend sets in. Families and friends gather in restaurants and homes alike for company and to celebrate the oncoming days of rest. Marks of wartime are only subtly visible through the tired faces of Republic workers and in the drunken slurs of people bitter against the government. The rest of the galaxy delves into denial. Life goes on. They are safe within their homes, secure in their lives with their families, and no one stops to worry about the wellbeing of the faces behind that safety,

      None but the wife of a man who's name means "warrior."

Inside her lavish apartment the coolant system is whirring, the lights are on, bright and welcoming. The atmosphere is clean, refined and modern, yet comfortable and welcoming. She is alone tonight, as usual, and slips off her tight shoes to enjoy the sensation of her bare feet against the thick carpet. Home; Finally.

      "Threepio, boil some water for tea, please."
     "Right away, Mistress Padmé!"

The golden droid scurries away, happy to be of assistance. Much as he complains about absolutely not being a butler droid, he certainly seems to enjoy small tasks of service.
      She lifts her shoes by their straps in one hand and lifts her heavy skirts in the other. On her way to her bedroom she realizes the couch is a much better destination and let's the dainty shoes drop to the floor. Beside them she places the headdress that had been on her head, strips down the loose and comfortable under layer of her dress and allows herself to fall into a pile of couch pillows. The debate was too long, but successful. The military rations would improve soon. Anakin would be happy. A smile starts to light her face as she imagines her husband. Sometimes he scared her with the amount of food he could consume. Once she'd wondered if it was normal for him until he had answered mid-chew,
      "We dwon't eat much in thwe fwield."
Ashoka later confirmed that he was always hungry. Until then, Padmé hadn't wondered about what the military was being fed. The Padawan had pulled some sort of protein bar in a capsule from her utility belt. The older woman almost had a heart attack.
     "You get used to them. They keep you alive."
No. Not if a Galactic Senator could help it. Thus, she had started a campaign to improve the living circumstances for the entire military. That had brought her to this evening when finally it passed.
     Satisfied, yet exhausted, she nearly forgets about her tea until the golden protocol droid brings it on a tray before here. There are two empty cups and she observes them, momentarily puzzled, but is too tired to think anything more of it. Tea goes into one cup, the other remains empty. The heat of the liquid against her throat is soothing and eases her mind. The flavor is familiar. It's Anakin's favorite. Her eyes settle on the tray, hazily wondering where he is, what he's eating, if he's taking care of himself.
      A sadness glosses over her eyes. It's been a few weeks. The last time he was home he slept most of the time, recuperating from whatever damage the war had inflicted on him even though he said he was "fine." She wasn't even sure if he was well enough to leave again when he was called, but he left anyway. This wasn't what a healthy relationship was supposed to look like, she knew that, but when he was home all of the concern washed away. He loves her in a way that little girls dream about. It's enough to keep them close, even when they are far apart.
     Sighing, she sets the teacup down and leans forward on her knees, pressing her mouth to her clasped hands.

"Threepio, what's my to-do list for tomorrow?"

     The droid babbles off a few things, nothing that can't wait until after the weekend, but she'll do it anyway. It's not like she has family to meet with or friends to plan gatherings with. Those things are for the rest of the galaxy. Her job is to make sure things stay that way, to make sure people like her sister can continue living worry-free lives at home. Another cup of tea is downed before she pulls out her data pad and begins work that really could have waited. She's still sleepy, but her persistent mind says it's a crime to be so lazy when there's so much to do.