“I’ll go with you,” she decided.
Anakin’s eyes widened. He started to reply, ready to argue, but Padmé’s smile held his words in check.
“That way, you can continue to protect me,” she reasoned. Somehow she made it sound perfectly logical.
“Don’t you see? We don’t have to run away anymore! I have brought peace to the Republic. I am more powerful than the Chancellor. I can overthrow him! And together, you and I can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be!”
They were too close together. She knew that. She knew that she was in dangerous territory here, both for herself and for Anakin. He was a Padawan learner, a Jedi, and Jedi were not allowed...
“I believe you can save me from anything, just as you are.”
She pulled him to her and their lips met, and Anakin gave himself to the kiss, and while it lasted, he believed it, too.
“Anakin, what’s wrong?” she cried at him.
Her volume and tone finally got his attention. “I just told you!”
“No!” Padmé yelled back at him. “No. What’s really wrong?”
Anakin just stared at her, and she knew that she was on to something.
“There’s no more need for secrets, Padmé. Don’t you see? I’m not a Jedi anymore. There aren’t any Jedi. There’s just me.”
He reached for her hand. She let him take it. “And you, and our child.”
“I’m going to marry you,” the boy said suddenly.
There was a moment of silence, and she began laughing again, a sweet musical sound he didn’t mind at all.
“I mean it,” he insisted.
“You are an odd one,” she said, her laughter dying away.
And yet the great prophets of the Jedi had always taught that the gravest danger in trying to prevent a vision of the future from coming to pass is that in doing so, a Jedi can actually bring it to pass—as though if he tried to save Padmé, he could end up killing her himself…
“But there must be more to your dream than death in childbirth. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. But I can’t begin to guess what it might be. It’s too—I can’t even think about it, Padmé. I’ll go crazy.”
She looked down at the pendant, fingering it thoughtfully.
“Many things will change when we reach Coruscant, Ani. My caring for you will not be one of them.”
The boy nodded, swallowing. “I know. And I won’t stop caring for you either.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about her now, knowing she wasn’t just a girl, but a Queen. He had declared he would marry her someday, believing it so, but how could someone who had been a slave all his life marry a Queen?
Padmé had spoken to him as well, joining him for a few moments as they approached the city through the forests east, her smile banishing all his doubts and fears in a moment’s time.
“What can I do?” he asked softly. “I will do anything you ask.”
Padmé looked away, overwhelmed, finding security in the distracting dance of the flames in the hearth. Several moments of silence slipped by uncomfortably.
He could put aside, for as long as the battle roared around him, the starfire of his love for the woman who waited for him on the world below. The woman whose breath was his only air, whose heartbeat was his only music, whose face was the only beauty his eyes would ever see.
“I love you.”
“You love me?” he asked, overwhelmed. “You love me! I thought we decided not to fall in love. That we would be forced to live a lie. That it would destroy our lives.” But her words had brought a wash of contentment over him.
She wanted him to kiss her, so desperately, and it was precisely that out-of-control sensation that had stopped her cold. This was not right—she knew that in her head, despite what her heart might be telling her.
“But what will happen when you kill me? What will happen to the Republic?” His tone was gently reasonable. “What will happen to Padmé?”
“Padmé…”
Her name was a gasp of anguish.