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WALLPAPER

Untitled
by Grant Gould (for StarWars.com)

FAN ART
by master--burglar
by master--burglar
FAN FICTION
Rush
by Love and Rock Music. (TCW) The first half of "Destroy Malevolence," as Anakin and Padmé make their way towards each other.

P/A SITE
The Anakin and Padmé Gallery

CALENDAR
Desktop Calendar // March/April 2015

 


FAN FICTION : ATTACK OF THE CLONES ERA

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Counselling

by Leia Naberrie

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COUNSELLING

PART 1

It had been pointless to even suggest that he wait behind. True to his promise, he didn't argue with her but when she walked down to the small harbour where the barge was docked, the boat was already afloat with Anakin sitting at the edge of the barge, an oar in each hand.

At first, as he paddled away from Varykino, the peaceful silence between them was only interrupted by the occasional cry from a seagull and the far-off braying from the herd animals of the island. The sweet perfume of the water lilies and the cold night air wafted between them, imprisoning them in its poignancy. Then, at first tentatively, then more excitedly, she would break their quiet to point out an old sight or memory she wanted to share with him. He would listen with silent attentiveness and her heart would twist inside her with how much she wanted to share with him, how little time they had together now and how impossible they should be together at all.

As they approached the small island, the dome of the stone-hewn structure in its centre loomed over them like a large cloud.

"I came here almost every day with Winama, the summer before I was made Princess of Theed." Her voice rose and fell as Anakin took hold of her hand and then her waist to help her out of the boat. She broke contact with him as quickly as possible and stepped on ahead of him. "It was a second home to me after Varykino."

If he read any significance into her actions, he chose to ignore it. "You used to swim to this island as a child," he reminded her.

"We were forbidden to wander off the beach. Definitely never as far as the Temple."

The sweet smell of grass and fruit filled the air. Soon, the soft sand under their feet was tapering out and they were walking a path through low shrubbery. The dome was barely visible ahead. Somehow, along the journey, it had receded as they approached the island and now only the spire at its crown was visible. The braying of the herd was louder now. Anakin's eyes followed her pointing hand to see the sleek, white animals pacing against the far horizon. A thin man in white robes appeared to be leading them along with a thin metal rod that he dragged behind him, in front of the animals afore the herd.

Padmé stopped to wave at the man. He looked up and waved back. Anakin paused to probe the man's signature. But Padmé was already moving along, walking ahead of him. Anakin hurried after her.

They finally reached the Temple. By her unspoken request, he waited outside the open doors and watched as she counted her prayers while her steps took her around the perimeter of the circular interior. Her song-prayer echoed between the bones of his ribcage, his hands shook with hers as she lit her candles, white and black. His eyes smarted as she blew them out softly, one after the other, still singing her prayer.

When she was finally approaching him, the edge of the second moon shone in the horizon, outlining the blades of grass in sharp blue relief and the woman in ghostly beauty. It made Anakin want to reach out and touch her, ascertain that she was real and not just something that came and went with the moonlight and the wind.

Instead, she was the one who reached for him, and enfolded herself in his embrace.

Are you really here? Are you real?

She did not ask the words out loud. They seemed to cry out from her heart into his.

"Padmé," he murmured aloud. He tried to pull away so as to see her face better but she clung to him fiercely and refused it. "What is the matter?"

Nothing. Everything. Joy. Despair.

She shook her head silently against his chest and then suddenly pulled away from him. She was walking ahead of him so quickly, he wondered if they had been holding at all.

-

COUNSELLING

PART 2

There was a well-worn concrete path that led round the circular Temple to a small wooden building that stood at the edge of the meadow. Made entirely of wood, with three windows that faced North, East and West - the direction that the Nubian spirits chose to send the winds - it was the home of the Holy Man or Baba of the Island Temple. Its interior consisted of entirely one room and was sparsely furnished with possessions and richly endowed with history, peace and good memories.

Iojie was the most traditional of Naboo wine. And the Iojie seed from which the drink was brewed was native only to the Lake Island. Right sleeve held back with the index and thumb of her left hand, left knee pressed against right ankle and jug handle daintily balanced between right thumb and middle finger in the customary way, Padmé carefully poured out the precious golden liquid into the wooden goblets. She caught the lingering drops at the sprout of the jug against the white handkerchief and with one hand, folded the cloth into a perfect triangle. She then laid the jug carefully on the triangle and bent her right knee to touch with the left one. Only then did she let go of her sleeve, sit back on her haunches and place both hands on her knees.

"Bravo!" The old Baba clapped and wheezed delightedly. "That is something that no Etiquette Professor at Theed can ever teach you, I promise you."

Padmé laughed. "Winama would have been an Etiquette Professor herself if she didn't make so much money out of her sewing."

They both fell silent as the Baba raised his hands to bless the Iojie. Then they were both sitting cross-legged around the wooden table in companionable silence as they sipped the honey-liquid.

If he allowed reality to blur with his memories, he might have thought he had stepped into his past. So many cold evenings, long after the last Halo Thee had been sung, had been spent thus: sipping Iojie in companionable silence with a petite, black-eyed woman with wisdom beyond her years on her face. Only, the young woman sharing Iojie with him would have been blonde not brunette. Her name was Winama not Padmé and she won't have had the dubious privilege of being a three-time prominent public servant of Naboo with sorrow on her brow, clouding the perception in her eyes.

Of course, even those memories would have to be very distant ones. The more recent memories of Iojie with Winama were fewer and fewer in between after the Naberries had migrated away from their family home. The blonde-haired petite woman had become a white-haired tiny old widow. And there was a summer when they never took Iojie in quiet companionship but in the increasingly restless company of a small, dark-eyed young lady that had adopted the Baba's cloister as the childhood playground she had never had.

"We missed you at the Festival of Lights," Winama's granddaughter was saying now. "The new Baba said you went to Theed for the Solemn Lights at the Temple."

He had missed the Island. Canonical debates were all very well and good but the appeal of academic life had long since lost its charms for him. Now, he existed only for the pleasure of life itself: the simple Island people and their humble piety; the dumb animals that were both companions and sustenance. The carpenter's son had finally wed the smith's widow. Nuka had delivered twin foals in his absence. The younger Baba that had filled in his absence had failed to inform him of these events despite their regular correspondence. The old man had been filled with irrational despondency when he realized how much had changed in his short absence. But the welcome of the Islanders had more than made up for it. The night of his return had been shut with fire sparklers and he had officially given the First Blessing to the stone-cutter's first-born girl-child.

He pulled himself out of his reverie. "I was told you were here. Indeed, I had been surprised at not seeing you in Theed... You have never missed the Festival there before."

She gave him a bittersweet smile. "I had other obligations."

His white brows furrowed. He had heard things in Theed, of course. Because he was an acetic did not mean that he was completely oblivious to the going-ons of their world and the universe.

"The point of the arrow is no longer facing you. The danger has now spread like a cloud over our whole world," he said quietly.

Her response was a bittersweet smile. She said: "The first battle was in Geonosis, a planet in the Outer Rim. Did you know this?"

He did not answer. From long experience he knew that she asked the question was not an intro into conversation but confession. He sensed the approach to the unburdening of her spirit that was the purpose of her visit.

"I was involved in it, you know. You could almost say that I was at the centre of it all." She chuckled but there was no humour in the action. "So many were lost. Over two hundred Jedi Knights died in the battle. Even now, so many of the wounded are yet to be completely healed."

The particulars of the battle were unknown to him but he had not been unaware of the casualties. The hollowing in the Force as hundreds of Force-sensitives had died violently had screamed out to him in the middle of a Halo Thee. He had been physically paralyzed for the whole day.

"But it might have been worth it. It would have been worth it if only we had captured the protagonist. The man whose conniving kept me a prisoner all this while, who brought about that horrible battle, who started this war. And even now-"She paused and tried to find the words to continue. The Baba sent her a Force-whisper of fortitude. She swallowed hard and continued. "He was trying to escape the battle. Two Jedi and I pursued him. I didn't think we could take him on our own, but the Jedi were confident and we wouldn't have had time to wait for reinforcements. We were chasing him, gaining on him and then, I - I fell." She shocked him with her mirthless, self-disgusted little laugh. "They left me behind. I don't know what happened after that. I was picked up by a clone trooper and I led them after this - criminal. But he was already in the air. I shot after him but he was too far. The Jedi were injured. Both of them. It was only later, I was told what happened and even then, I know there are things that were kept from me."

The hands that Padmé had wrapped around the goblet of Iojie were shaking.

"I should have gone after Dooku."

The self-loathing in her voice was so tangible that the old Baba flinched.

"My child -"

"No, Baba." She slammed the goblet onto the floor. The action was as violent as her voice was calm but it was the former that echoed in harmony with her spirit. "There was no excuse. I had the means to chase him as far as the stratosphere if need had been. Shooting after a flying vehicle was pointless. I should have taken off after him. But it never occurred to me at all. It was hours later, in the infirmary when I was being treated that the most obvious of options," - the bitterness in her voice was almost poisonous - "presented itself to me."

Abruptly, she swung herself from the floor and strode to the other end of the room. He placed his own goblet on the floor and forced himself to remain silent. There was a lot left unsaid, a lot remaining that needed to be purged out from her. And he knew from her sense and from his own personal knowledge of this strong, wilful child that it was no light matter that she wanted to divulge to him. It was going to take time.

He called on the Force for guidance.

-

COUNSELLING

PART 3

It was purification - this emptying of her soul. After the initial pause, Padmé had found her voice again and it was as if a dam had broken. The only problem was controlling the emotions enough to enable her articulate them. Nothing was held back.

She relived the anger she had felt at the sham interrogation, the monkey-court Dooku had set up to intimidate and humiliate her; the overwhelming feelings of fear and helplessness as she came to terms to the fact that no rescue would soon be forthcoming and that she and Anakin would be killed like criminals; the deeper emotions of loss and immeasurable grief at Anakin dying - dying precisely because she had insisted on going on this unfathomably reckless mission. Strong loyalties or not, she knew her position in the matter. By getting involved in the conflict, she was defying an Executive Order from the Supreme Chancellor. Apart from that, it had been foolhardy to have attempted the rescue with just one Jedi as back-up against a whole planet of hostilities. If she had only allowed a mind that had studied, in theory and in practice, the art of military stratagem to only reason for a little longer, she should have realized that there was no way that Master Kenobi's transmission would have escaped the enemy's awareness. An elaborate trap would undoubtedly have been put in place for any would-be rescue mission and she had walked right into it, taking Anakin with her.

"You should not blame yourself, child. You had the right intentions."

"Baba-"

"No, you listen, my child." He got up from the floor and approached the back she showed him while she gazed sightlessly out the window. "We are human beings, not machines that cannot feel or err or act on anything other than hardwired programs. Our emotions do not make us weak, they make us strong. They make us loyal and brave and courageous. And to keep fighting even with fear is the greatest kind of courage."

"Oh, Baba." She sighed and turned to him. Her face was completely dry of tears. But he had the strangest impression that they were running down inside, making little tracks in the underside of her skin. "I have not finished."

He remained standing as she went on. She turned back to the window, apparently unwilling to look him in the face until she completed condemned herself. Her senses were more agitated now; her spirit was quailing under the pressure of powerful emotions.

"We were to be executed in an arena. Dooku had planned a grand-scale exhibition for Nute Gunray to watch. We would be sport for beasts and monsters until they overwhelmed us and devoured us. The stands were full; the whole city had probably turned up. It was going to be a big show - the troublesome Senator Amidala and a pair of Jedi fighting for their lives against wild animals." She gave a harsh laugh. "Before we were led into the arena, we were left by ourselves in the hangar, tied to the cart so we could not escape. I was so afraid. My heart was almost beating out of my chest with fear. We were about to die. And it was all because of my foolishness. I had led him to this - I who had promised myself not so long before that I would never again be the source of pain or sorrow to him. The last person in the world I would ever want to bring harm to."

The Baba felt the implication of her words rush over him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He stood frozen as she continued.

"What was death to me? I was dying already. Each day with him, everything I could ever want or need but never have. If he could be spared for my life, it would only be a continuation of the sacrifice I was already making. And I intended to continue to make it." Her voice rose. "I intended to."

"Padmé-"

She jerked away from his outstretched hand and she strode to the other window across the room. "He told me- Don't be afraid. And I felt him then. Felt everything he felt for me and more. And I couldn't do it, Baba!" She wailed out the last sentence. "I couldn't send him to his death without letting him know. I couldn't. Oh gods," Her voice had tapered to a whisper.

He went back to the table and resumed his cross-legged stance. He needed the physical equilibrium not only to deal with the impact of her confession but with the tangible tremors her anguish was making in the Force.

Padmé continued. She spoke about the escape, the rescue by the Jedi, the battle that ensued. She spoke less pragmatically and told him about her emotional instability in the battle: the way she was either riding on battle adrenaline or near-hysterical euphoria at Anakin's companionship, the way she had not been able to separate herself from him so their strengths could be more effectively targeted at different points in the battle; she had been a distraction to him, she knew, he would have been more effective in the heart of the battle, fighting alongside another Jedi, but she had not wanted him to leave her and had not even tried to make him.

"You are too hard on yourself, child," he ventured. She ignored him and went on.

She repeated what she had first told him about the chase after Dooku.

"All I could think was Anakin. He was hurt. I don't know how I knew it then even before I had seen him. I didn't even think about it until later - how I had known so certainly when I was not even there. He had lost an arm to Dooku. He was badly injured. And I just wanted to get to him. I just wanted to see that he was alright." She made a hissing, disgusted sound. "And how do you think he must have lost that arm? Master Kenobi told me. He came to me before my return to Naboo and he had a small tête-à-tête with me. After I had fallen off the ship, Anakin had wanted to drop down immediately and go to me. Master Kenobi literally had to plead with him to continue after Dooku. Anakin told him that he did not care if he was expelled from the Jedi Order." She gave out a muffled choking laugh. "And his Master didn't tell me, but I have no doubt as to why Anakin fared so badly against Dooku in that duel. I have no doubt where his mind was when he was supposed to be fighting. Just as my mind was nowhere on Dooku when I felt his own pain."

"There is a connection between the two of you." The Baba offered. "It generally happens when such a strong emotional bond is made with a powerful Force-sensitive."

Padmé burst into laughter. Her voice rose in a delighted scream and she collapsed smoothly onto the wooden floor in mirth.

"Oh, Baba! How proper! How dogmatically defined. A connection! An emotional bond!"

The laughter was a relief. Some of the bitterness and self-condemnation had faded and she was now looking at him with frank fond amusement.

"What would you have me say?" He murmured wryly. "A grand passion? Unfathomable and overwhelming love?"

She giggled like a little girl. Then she bent her head into her hands and sobbed.

"Oh, child!" He sighed. "Believe me, when I say that you are not the first to be seduced by a Force-sensitive -"

"Ani did -"

He cut off her sobbing protest. "Or to seduce a Force-sensitive, if you prefer. You are the extremely attractive older participant and the Jedi is what? - a teenage Padawan? What scandal, Senator Amidala!"

She sobbed and laughed at the same time.

"Even the more religious of Force-sensitives have strayed, you know." He continued conversationally. "Even," his voice lowered to a conspiratorially whisper, "the Babas of Naboo."

Padmé gave another shriek of laughter and sobbing. "You old virgin fraud!"

"Excuse me," he said in mock-indignation. "Just because I'm old now, doesn't mean I wasn't young and dashing at a time. I cut quite a figure when I first came here as a young man. Caused a scandal or two of my own, you know." He puffed up with mock-pride. "Could teach that Jedi of yours a thing or two about women, you know."

"Really?"

"Yes. And first would be: never go for a self-righteous politician." Padmé gave another shriek. "A self-righteous married woman, yes. A corrupt politician, yes. But a combination of both? No way." She had lifted her hands from her face and was now smiling at him through her tears. He winked at her. "Lousy in bed, too."

"You are a dirty old man," Padmé said firmly. "Winama would be rolling in her grave by now."

"Now, Winama - I can tell you a thing or two -"

"And I will practise the one or two moves I've fantasized about for Dooku on you," she murmured sweetly.

The old Baba laughed quietly. Then he folded his limbs around him and pushed off from the ground. "Your Iojie must be stone-cold by now. You came to my house in the middle of the night to waste my carefully brewed Iojie and scandalize me with your salacious affairs with Jedi Padawans."

"One Jedi Padawan," she corrected him needlessly. She too got to her feet and helped him clear away the Iojie. Like setting, the etiquette for clearing was steeped with complete customs and Padmé got every one right. "And I did not have a salacious affair with him. For your information, we have an emotional connection. Not a physical one."

"Not yet."

She nearly missed a step.

A pair of troubled brown eyes looked up at him. All trace of lightness had vanished.

"Baba," Padmé whispered. "Are you encouraging me, Baba?"

The mirth went out of his eyes and his attitude. "Come here, child." He reached for her hand and she gave it to him, standing before him and staring up at him with trust in her eyes. "I have known you since you were eight and your grandmother lodged you while you schooled in Theed. I may be an old religious recluse, but I am not completely unaware of the affairs of my home world. I know the courage with which you have served Naboo. I know the tangible and personal sacrifices you have made for your people. There is only so far you can carry a burden without needing a shoulder to share it with. You were a woman in need of love. And this Jedi came and gave you his heart. This man that you admired and have been indebted to ever since he was a boy of nine. And you did not even immediately accept his love. You denied your own feelings and made him and yourself utterly miserable in the process. But for how long can you battle against your heart? I do not believe any other woman could have fared as well as you against this temptation."

"Baba." She closed her eyes and shivered. "What do I do? What do I do?"

"What does he want?"

She smiled. "Anything I want. He would do anything I say. How perfect can a man get?"

"Well, if only I was a little younger," he growled and she laughed. His voice became serious again. "And what do you want?"

Padmé pulled her hand out of his and walked to the third and last window, the one that was shuttered against the Northern winds. The deity that sent this wind was the bringer of gifts, the one to fear for his blessings always came with a curse. A light breeze raised the tiny hairs on her skin when lifted the shutters a little. She was gazing down at the meadow. The Baba came to stand behind her. He watched his sheep as they moved in a rough circle round the wiry, blond man that stood in the middle; his hands were outstretched to hold up the half a dozen small birds that had alighted on his arms. A few other animals that the Baba had not believed domestic able had joined the sheep in what appeared to be a rudimentary dance around the Jedi.

"I want him," Padmé whispered. "I want to own him. To be owned by him. I know what I feel is selfish and wrong. I know what it will take from him if we are discovered. And I don't want him to give up his future for me. I don't want him to be the one to give up anything for me.

"So how can I still want him?

"Because I feel in my heart, that the deep cloud that has spread over the galaxy will not be clearing away any time soon. I feel in my heart that I will not be there when it does clear. And I want to hold unto the things I love most while I have life within me."

Her voice resonated in his ears like a far-away echo. The old Baba's gaze had turned inwards. He was no longer watching the young Jedi in the meadow. His eyes were seeing further than the edge of the island, further than the fringes of time itself. He had asked the Force for guidance and this was the Force's answer. He could hear the echo of the Force speaking like a guiding spirit in this child's words and he could see the reality of Padmé's fate in the stark vision of the future the Force was showing him.

For the first time in a long time, he felt the burn of tears sting his eyes. His gaze had returned to the present. A group of small children had joined the animals that danced around Anakin Skywalker. The birds perched on him were singing in distinctive harmony. The Jedi appeared to be conducting them through the Force.

"People are not possessions to be owned, Padmé Naberrie. That's what caused your greatgreatgreatgrandfather to lose this Island to the Temple.   As a Force-sensitive myself, I can assure you that the Force does not interfere in the intimate physical activities of its children, regardless of their correspondence to the codes of conduct. Therefore, I suggest that if you feel so possessive towards this young man, you had better marry him."

-

COUNSELLING

PART 4

The sun was setting on the world of Naboo. The Holy Man stood between the young couple and guided them through the words of the ancient holy language that said he and she, together forever.

The young man reached for his wife's hand.

The dying sun seemed to brand them into his memory: Her slender beauty, dripping in pearls, her eyes shining with an unearthly emotion as she stepped up to him; His own face, glowing with exultant joy, burning away her fears.

The Holy Man closed the ancient book and walked away from them.

He had paddled halfway across the Lake when the sun finally set. Its glare and glory eased into the night. The Lake was an inky black surface. The utter darkness covered even the sounds of the animals. Old instinct guided him as he steered towards his home.

The Force does not like extremities

It thrives on balance

The joy you feel now will equate the price you will pay later

I would wish you happiness my children

But I cannot oppose the Will of the Force

From far-off came the distant braying of a young foal. One of Nuka's twins was crying for its shepherd. A restless seagull called out into the night and another joined it. The edge of the horizon glowed with the white light of the first moon.

By the time he had reached the shore, the dim light of one moon had turned the Lake molten silver. He turned once and looked back at Varykino. Two figures were still leaning against the balustrade, together but not touching; they might have been carved from marble with the splendour of their love made ageless in the moonlight. 

 
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