no subject

[Consider it a weakness, because despite all her strength, even Padmé had them, but like water in her cupped hands, it had all trickled away, drop by drop, until all that she had known was gone. No matter how far they seemed to have come, it always felt like two steps were taken back for each forward. The war... Obi-Wan's news... The Temple. Anakin. In the end, all she had wanted was for him to come away with her, to raise their child (children) as she had never wanted to rule the galaxy.

Oh, but he had gone- (will go?)- far, far away, down a path that she couldn't follow. Timelines and realities. Those words come wandering through her mind, and how can he not know- unless he doesn't know. And it saps her mind to even try to puzzle it through. A tiredness has etched itself upon her soul, a wound cut deep. Whereas once she might have tackled the problem head on with that political prowess that came as easily as breathing to her, here and now she lacked the desire, the drive, the will-power to do so.

Yet she leans back, one hand loosening it's hard grip to brush away her tears, to look upon him, seeking some glimmer of recognition, or realization, but all she seems to be greeted with is confusion.] I don't- They said- ... what is the last thing you remember before coming here?