I KNOW PLACES ➶ STAR WARS

Part III // Hard Times

Slight trigger warning for those who are suicidal.

"I would like to pitch myself off right here," Padmé whispered to Obi-Wan, standing on the balcony of her Coruscant apartment. Her hands caressed the cold metal railing, feeling it for flaws symbolic of the ones she'd found in herself.

"You did what I could not. You did the right thing."

"I murdered my husband." Tears formed in the senator's eyes, making the horde of city lights below murky and undefined.

"He would have murdered you," Obi-Wan says seriously. He tilted his head to look down at the busy, oblivious city.

Padmé let her tears drench the city for a moment before she looked up at him, feeling self-conscious in her ruined gown. "What do you mean?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, wondering if it would affect anything, but told her anyway. "I saw two futures, Padmé. One in which you would have died because you could not bring yourself to kill him."

"How would I have died?"

"I saw you, losing the will to live."

She looked back down and frowned, not understanding him. "But you said he would have murdered me."

"The cause of death would have been a broken heart."

A few moments passed in silent, careful thought before she spoke again. "What was the other future?"

"The one we're living right now," Obi-Wan said, looking over at her.

She gave a dry laugh. "Either way, I would like to have already died." She leaned against the balcony's railing and placed her head in both hands. Shaking fingers raked through her messy curls. Ash fell out, the residue of her sin.

"Don't say that. You have an entire life ahead of you yet." Obi-Wan placed a hand on the small of her back protectively, scared she might actually go through with her original plan of suicide and jump right off, out of his grasp, out of his protection.

Her head jumped up. "You can see it? My life, I mean."

"Not clearly."

Again, a few short moments passed without another exchange of words.
"You should be going to that meeting now," she said flatly, wanting him gone.

"Not without you. I'm not leaving you here alone."

"I want to be alone."

"You'll throw yourself off the balcony!" He said, suddenly not afraid to throw his fears into the light.

"What difference does it make to you? One less dirty politician to keep you from your duty in the Jedi Order!" She screamed. As soon as she saw the surprised look on Obi-Wan's face, she immediately wished she hadn't.

His eyebrows furrowed. "It makes all the difference to me," he said slowly.

Not wanting her emotions to betray her, she gave up on the conversation and all but stormed over to his ship, motioning for him to follow her. He let out a relieved but stressed-out sigh and helped her in.

As soon as they were seated, pilot and copilot looked at one another wearily.

Padmé was the first to speak. "I'm sorry I screamed at you. It's just- just the tension, and what happened earlier, and my- my hormones-"

"I understand. You have a lot on your mind." Obi-Wan smiled dryly at her.

Padmé smiled back, but said nothing. She only got to work switching on the levers, preparing the ship for flight.

"Why don't you go to the back and lie down?" Obi-Wan asked as the ship pulled off from the apartment's second balcony.

"I won't be able to sleep. It's no use," came the tired voice. The way she said it hinted that she spoke from experience.

"Please try. Your back is hurting."

She looked over at him smartly. "You can tell?"

He didn't avert his eyes from the sky in front of him. Hesitantly, he replied, "Yes. Now, please go."

"It's not going to make it any bet-"

Obi-Wan eyed her sharply and quickly, knowing that it would help her; his eyes seemed to tell her that she had no choice.

"Why don't I just rest up here?" She was testing to see how far she could push him.

He laughed. "I'll carry you back myself if I must, Senator."

She sighed deeply, wanting to rest, but also not wanting to be told what to do. She just wanted to dissolve the tension. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her.

She thanked him and went to the back of the ship, fluffed a small pillow on the rest bed, and lay down. Immediately, stress seemed to simply drain out of her body. She gave a low sigh of relief, and flew off into sleep.

What to her seemed like only moments later, she awoke to a soft voice.

"Senator, we've arrived," Obi-Wan said, shaking Padmé's shoulder, who gradually supported her upper body by sitting up upon arms stretched into backwards hands. "Feeling better, I hope?" A sly smile spread across his face.

She smiled coyly. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Come on, then. We don't want to be late." He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully.

Padmé quietly followed him into the Jedi Temple, humbled to be in such a place. They soon reached the Council's session room, where Yoda and Bail Organa were waiting in red-and-gray chairs.

Obi-Wan quickly bowed to Yoda, then motioned for Padmé to have a seat in one of the chairs before sitting down himself. "I hope you don't mind her presence, Master. I could not leave her."

"Understandable, that is. Mind her presence, I do not. Many things today have you been through," Yoda replied, nodding. "Hard times these are. She is here, good thing that is. Anywhere else, very dangerous that would prove."

"What are you implying, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, intrigued by the old Jedi's words. His hand found a familiar home on the hair of his chin as he sat back in his chair.

"Still alive, Anakin was found. New body he has now," Yoda said gravely, his small hands folding around the knob on the top of his walking stick.

"He's alive?" Obi-Wan questioned incredulously, his hand falling to the armrest.

"Indeed. Called Lord Vader, he is now."

Padmé didn't know what to think. Whether she was relieved or angry, she had no idea. So she did the only thing she could think of. She ran.