Sand | Obidala

7.

The desert is halved by a sharp line of shade.
The sky above me is a deep blue, though storm clouds are looming on the horizon.
It may be raining there. I didn't think it was possible.

Padme is at the hydroponic garden, picking what survived the drought.

"How's your sweetheart doing these days?" She asks, without lifting her eyes.

She's asking after Rani, the shopkeeper's daughter at Anchorhead's grocery; freckles, a bantering smile, and way too much imagination.
Padme enjoys teasing me about her crush on Ben Kenobi. I insist that she imagines things, though the girl is pretty obvious, with all that head-tilting and hair-touching.

"Obnoxious," I groan. "I could be her father. She is, what, not even fifteen?"

"Seventeen. Many girls her age are married, here. She's pretty and comes with a shop. You should reconsider her."

Padme doesn't even try to conceal how much all of this amuses her.

"I'm already married," I quip. "A circumstance that I suspect makes up a significant part of my appeal to her. Come to town with me, next time. I need someone to fend off her advances."

She rolls her eyes heavenward.

"Oh, poor Obi-Wan... Can't be his fault if womankind finds him irresistible. Anakin told me about this, and I simply couldn't believe him."

Her giggle ruins the effect of her theatrical taunt. I mouth a sarcastic 'thank you' before she continues.

"Rani wouldn't forgive my intrusion in her plans for you, and she's already spiteful enough to me. You can't be scared of a little girl, you know."

"I certainly can. She even made up a bizarre story about us... Her theory is that everyone on this planet is hiding from something, as there's no other possible reason to settle out here." 

Padme raises her eyebrows in agreement.
I hold up a hand, asking her to wait.

"We're wed against your parents' wishes and had to run away. According to her, I became your husband only because you fell pregnant, and now I'm trapped in a loveless union... Rani offered to babysit, to allow us some quality time to save our marriage."

Padme's face darkens at this tale. She tries to hide it with an uncharacteristic mischievous snicker.

"My, that's generous of her. Means you would have to take her back to Anchorhead, later. Now that must be the quality time she is talking about."

I frown and tell her that they've both gone far ahead of me.

The distant clap of thunder makes our heads snap.
The cloud cover is closer now; I give us a few minutes. The air is electric and already smells fresh and sweet.

Padme hands me the basket with our meagre harvest. "Tending anything on this planet makes you wonder why you tried in the first place."

I can't hold back a smirk.

"I wasn't talking about the twins!" Her chuckle fades away too quickly. "Though I admit this isn't the place I had in mind for them."

"We're back where it all started," I point out, "The cycle is complete, whatever that means, and the ends touch. But we're not who we once were."

"I'm not sure about that," Padme grins. "When we met, you were a square Jedi who used sarcasm to hide his awkwardness. You still are."

I break into a smile. "You were a spoiled, childish Queen playing the peasant, so I guess you're right."

She wasn't any of that. Padme was fourteen, ruling a planet, and doing it exceptionally well. It wasn't surprising that she needed to feel like one of the crowd, once in a while.
At that age, I was the most idiotic Padawan that had ever been and, when we first met, I wasn't any better.
I could never help admiring her, even when I'd prefer not to. When I tried to despise her for yielding to Anakin's every desire, I was just jealous I couldn't do the same.
Staying judgmental has got harder when I myself had succumbed to him.

Padme's eyes sparkle in spite of her pique. "That's rich, coming from the boy who had to grow facial hair to look like an adult."

"Touché," I concede, feeling an idiot Padawan again.

"Well, you don't need it anymore. Get rid of it the way I did my hair."

I know what she means.
We are not the Senator and the Negotiator anymore, as much as we're not the Queen and the Jedi Padawan. Actually, we are no one. For the first time in our lives, we're free of our expectations of ourselves. We can be what we want to be.

I stroke my beard, telling her that it stays. Her full-throated laugh is irresistible.

"If Anakin couldn't persuade you, I certainly don't stand a chance." Padme shrugs. "Besides, I'm growing quite fond of it myself."

"Keeping it assured me that I wasn't caving in to all his demands. A trivial issue to defy him on, when I'd given in to everything else."

Big, hard drops start pelting the ground, and we share a look of surprise.

Padme closes her eyes and turns her face up to the sky. "We rack our minds to find what we did wrong and what we should've done differently. We did all we could... No one can save who doesn't want to be saved."

She looks back at me, shivering against the stiff breeze. "Even a girl from Anchorhead can see I'm holding you back. This isn't your home any more than it is mine... I'm trying to say that there's nothing to atone and you don't have to stay. We'll be fine, Ben."

The landscape out here has always been so constant that we were convinced it was immutable.
Today, all is changed. Temperature, light, shadows, colours. Everything seems clean and ready to start again.

She's right, I do not have to stay.

We run inside, leaving puddles on the steps behind us.
The children are still napping, and all is silent, except for the rumble of thunder.
Padme lingers by the window, unable to take her eyes away from the storm.
I cover her shoulders with a large, coarse towel.

We look at the rain that runs in silver rivulets down the paned windows. It blurs the scenery, softens the harsh light of reality and lets us pretend things aren't as they are.
We could just be Chordè and Ben, stuck in a shotgun marriage, struggling to find a way to make it work.

Her breath fogs up the cooled glass.
I find myself staring at the hollow where her neck ends. Her head seems naked, exposed. I wonder how touching it would feel.

I turn my gaze away. "Regardless of what Rani may think, I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to. We need more time to let things settle down, outside and inside us. We'll discuss where we wish to go later."

Padme smiles softly. Her head tilts to rests on my shoulder.

"You manage to be reassuring even when you're falling apart... You take care of us, hoping we won't notice. I see now, why Ani loved you."

His last words echo in my mind. Can I tell her that I doubt he ever loved anyone?
I let out a short, uneasy laugh and say that she shouldn't worry about this, that I'm all right.

She straightens up with a sigh. "It wasn't my intention to embarrass you. Only, I'm... relieved Rani's mistaken."

So vulnerable.

My chest tightens with something I can't define. For a moment, it seems conceivable for me to draw her head back to my shoulder.

"You're not a burden, Padme. And you don't embarrass me. I'm just not used to..." I trail off, looking for a word I can't pin down. "To this. Be patient with me."

Sometimes, I wish I could just accept the comfort she wants to offer me.

She turns to lean against the cloudy glass, smirking. "You Jedi are a real mess."

I feel my lips quirk up into a reluctant smile.

"We are, indeed."