To life more honoured [CLOSED]

[democratically]

Who: Anakin and Padmé
When: As the ship starts to return to normal
Where: Starting at Mero Deck, Room 6
What: Talking
Warnings: stc; mentions of slavery

She can say that so far her time here has been interesting, and that is an understatement to its very core. Having attended the medical bay, she does know that physically, there is nothing wrong with her. She is as living as she appears although the ghost of what has happens remains etched upon her. Not viewable to the naked eye and kept confidential in her medical report, there is no outward sign of the invisible grip that had curled around her throat.

From Ahsoka, Padmé had learned about some of the events that had happened before her arrival, about the slavery, and she had been keeping an eye out on Anakin. Or at least as well as she could. It had been hard going with trying to reach destinations aboard the ship for a time although it seems that the more distance that has been put between the ship and the Luminous Sea, the less frequent this events have occurred, at least to her own reckoning. Finding Anakin young again... There had been a bittersweet tone to it.

Of course she still has the little mouse droid that they had built- although in truth, it had all been Anakin- tucked away in the pocket of her skirts, just as that japor snippet is under her clothing, always close to her heart. The ship seems to have settled, and Padmé is aware that some have returned to themselves, which does make her wonder after Anakin.

It is how she comes to be on the Mero deck, standing before the door, waiting for answer to her buzz.

Comments

[democratically]

She knows that he knows. He has remained here, even before her arrival. It isn't, to the best of her knowledge anyway, as if he has been hoarding a hyperdrive under his bed or food sources in his pockets. There is nothing wrong with thinking about it though, but the actual implementation is another matter completely. It isn't as simple as he makes it to be, although a part of Padmé wishes that it was. There would be so many things to worry about, and as much as he would worry, Padmé would worry more. You worry to much. You don't worry enough. "Although I know you like flying quick and fast, some times all we can do is live one day at a time, my love."

Each time he has come back during the war, Padmé could see those new scars on him, both physical and mental. Some of the stories she knew, at least partially from the holonews, but others, she knew, had all but been for her ears alone. He is passionate and sensitive, always wanting to protect everyone and everything. She is much the same, and while she has not been on the front lines (or rather never been on purpose), there has been loss there as well. She knows the feeling of inadequacy, of feeling like a failure, of being unable to protect those who placed their trust in you. It is something that she carries, and will always carry with her, but rather than allowing it to be her weakness, she seeks to turn it to her strength. Any sacrifice should be honoured, as hard as it may be.

And that is it, or a part of it. That there is more weight upon his shoulders she doesn't doubt, but little by little, Padmé would work on trying to ease it, in trying to show that he doesn't need to carry it alone. There are others here who care for him, herself obviously included, and who would help with it. It isn't something that he needs to do alone. "I know, my love. I know."

That soft comforting noise as she stroked her fingers through his hair. There has always been high expectations for him, pressure from all parties, and she knows that she herself had added to some of that during the war, yet never would her faith in him falter. It hadn't yes and she knows even now, it never will. "But you tried. You tried. You didn't just think of yourself, or your own survival. You tried, Anakin, and as broad as your shoulders might be, you cannot carry everyone upon them. Sometimes the tasks we meet are so insurmountable, but you tackled what you could, Ani. You didn't just give up."

[ex_forcechoke292]

He curls back into that touch, those coos, and just basks in the comfort for a moment. He knows he really shouldn't, but in feeling everything so keenly, he can't bring himself to pull away. Not when everything Padmé gives is presented willingly. No matter his hurt, he cannot hurt her in the process. There's no forgiveness to be found in that.

"I know," he says quietly with a sigh, and presses a kiss to her temple. "You're right, of course."

The only way Anakin knows how to honor a sacrifice is to not see it happen in vain. It's too difficult to know if that's the case for home, how much sacrifice he owes honor to, and how much more will be his own doing.

"I just--" he pauses, unsure how the words he wants, even if he knows he's in the only company not about to judge him for them (not wholly, anyway). Padmé understands so much, so acutely, even the things he doesn't always say, and it's one of the things he loves the most: she understands. "I don't like feeling like this."

Helpless.

[democratically]

As much as Anakin thinks that he shouldn't Padmé thinks that he should. She wants to do better here, to have them do better, although she knows both of their shortcomings. At home, too bound by duty, there had been too much that she had ended up missing, much to the detriment of each of them. While they had both known going in that nothing would be conventional about the marriage, the simple fact that Padmé could say is that she loved him. Loves him still.

To be able to be open isn't something that just turns on. There is no switch that just makes it just magically happen. In that way there is still a freshness to it, something to be marveled at with all that has happened. Yet step by step, day by day, moves them forward. Together. Always together.

Her eyelids flutter as a soft smile caresses her lips as he places that kiss. Saying it and believing it though are two different matters, and Padmé knows that it may well chew at him, just as it would with her. She knows him well enough to understand that, but she will be there, and continue to be there. A hand comes, to rest on his chest. "I know. Even when I first met you on that dusty planet that really was far too warm, I could tell that about you."

[ex_forcechoke292]

Too warm and barely warm at all. Tatooine is a sore subject he can't ever seem to shake, no matter how far removed they are, or how much farther away they get.

"I don't care what galaxy it is, I can't let this happen anymore."

The admission is quiet and breathed out with a hitch in his shoulders that betrays a swallowed sob. He hasn't cried over this in years, tells himself he won't--that he can't--and yet, all he can think about are his broken promises at home, the solution the was seemingly put on indefinite pause, and how those promises can't even be met when he doesn't have the same rules to uphold or to hold him back.

If it isn't meant to be, if it isn't right--and he knows it isn't--why does it keep happening?

A hand comes to meet hers, fingers loosely lacing with her own as she presses against him. If it had been her--if she hadn't miraculously been gone the one month when it mattered--would he have ended it any better?

"Thank you," he says, just as soft. All the Council has ever wanted is this sordid history put behind him, ignored, 'dealt with.' It's never like that with Padmé. Never has been, not when she'd been able to see him as a person quicker than most anyone he'd ever met. Not a tool, not a moneygrab, not a prophecy, but a person. He isn't sure she'd ever understand the significance, but it matters.

[democratically]

She knows all too well that there are things beyond their control, events that will spiral, trickling between their fingers like drops of water, until there is nothing left. It doesn't mean that an effort wasn't made, but merely that life is about living. It has those joyous moments and it had those darker ones. There can be no light without dark, and without dark, the light cannot shine as bright.

Padmé knows him well enough to know that he will do what he can, and more. That he has and always will push himself, and even if he saves a ninety nine people, he will regret not saving that extra one. The Hero With No Fear is what they call him, but she knows that despite that title, that he does fear, has seen the manifestation of them, knows how they can burn and consume, and yet how there is still that tendril of light, a sole flame that will never be extinguished.

"You don't need to thank me, my love." That soft murmur as she in turn presses a kiss against his temple. Her words are truly spoken, but there is also acceptance given as well. "No matter what, I will always be here with you."