Star Wars Returning

**Credits go to:** George Lucas, of course, and to Blueharvest.com, and Prequel-spoilers.com for parts of the script I needed to reenact some of the scenes.

**Note:** Please note that this takes place between Episodes II & III, and is just something that suddenly came to mind and had to be let loose. You will note, that there is a scene or more within the story that had had a bit added to them that didn't happen in the actual movie; I'd added some of my own bits to it. My long-term writer's block seems to have graciously lifted, and out popped this story. It was one of those moments where you have to write the story, or you'll be bothered by it for a while. Trust me, not a pleasant feeling for a writer. Also, flames are **so** **not** welcome simply because this is my very first attempt at a _Star Wars_ fan fiction, and from the comments I've received on it so far, I was able to capture the emotion and feelings of the characters well – I hope it feels that way for you, too, and that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the ride the story took me on.   
  
 

**Returning**  --  By: Lynzi Knight

The scene played along her mind, over and over. It had been doing so for the past year or so, and it bothered her that she could look back upon such memories so easily. She had remembered suddenly growing nervous being alone in the same room as him. The way he stared at her, watched her so closely, it played with the emotions she had wished to keep aside and not have interfere with her mission. 

_Her thoughts, as she gazed into the fire that night, had been of him, they had consisted of the secret meanings behind his words, her feelings, and how she was supposed to be handling it all in such a dire time. Even him having entered the room distracted her. He distracted her to a point where she couldn't think properly anymore. She made room for him on the couch, sliding over a bit, hands in her lap, and watched him with curiosity and anxiety at the uneasy, yet confident expression on his face. _

_"May I tell you something…?" His voice was quiet, as if he didn't want to disturb the silence she had created._

_She paused before answering, unsure of how to answer that. "I don't know..."_

_"Then how can I tell you?" He shifted in his spot, almost as if uncomfortable. Perhaps he was just as nervous as she…._

_"Maybe you should use your Jedi intuition."_

_He shook his head, nearly moving closer to her, but stopped himself, seeing her slide away from him. "It doesn't work around you. My mind is always in a muddle … I can only think of you."_

_She swallowed heavily, shaking her head, and then moved back some more as he reached out for her, his face moving closer to hers. "Anakin, don't…."_

_He ignored her and continued, "From the moment I met you, all those years ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of you. And now that I'm close to you again, I'm in agony. The closer I get, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you makes my stomach turn over – my mouth goes dry. I feel dizzy. I can't breathe. I'm haunted by the kiss you never should have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that kiss will not become a scar. _

_"You are in my very soul, _tormenting_ me. What can I do? I will do anything you ask…."_

_She turned her face away from him, unable to meet his gaze. One glance from earlier had her looking away immediately, regretting ever looking at him; what she had seen was true, what he said, what he felt, it was all true, and she could see it by simply looking into his eyes. His next words were desperate, almost like a helpless plea. _

_"If you are suffering as much as I am, _please_, tell me."  _

_She stood up from the couch, moving away from him. She couldn't stand to be next to him at a moment such as this. She then put her back to him, looking down into the flames for a second, before then turning to face him. "…I can't. _We_ can't. It's just not possible."_

_"Anything's possible, Padm__é, please listen…" He began to rise from the couch, to go to her, but her sharp words cut him short, and he stood there, staring at her with hurt and frustration in his eyes._

_"No, _you_ listen. We live in a real world. Come back to it. You're studying to become a Jedi Knight, and I'm …I'm a Senator. If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, they will take us to a place we cannot go … regardless of the way we feel about each other…." _

She closed her eyes against that specific memory, not daring to look over into the fireplace alcove in the main room where it had once taken place. She forced herself to think of something else, and thought back, far back, to what they had shared; that brief moment out on the garden terrace overlooking the water. She could still remember the faint smell of his breath, felt it fan over her lips as his face had drawn much closer to hers. She could've stopped it; she could've pulled away, told him it was wrong … but she hadn't, at least not until the intimate embrace lasted for a few more seconds. 

And she had enjoyed it, his lips on hers. 

She had remembered melting against him; he felt so tender, and that was how he had handled her, even now, as if she were glass, fragile and about to break at any moment. She hated being handled in such a way; she hated it so much, yet she never complained once. 

Amusingly enough, before they had shared a kiss, she had talked about the old man on the island, the one who made glass out of sand, then vases and necklaces – beautiful necklaces, ones where you could see the water and the ripples within by simply staring at it. 

Even to this day, she remembered how soft his voice was, how he had spoken his words, whispered them, close to her. She remembered her face growing warm, feeling his eyes on her – he was always watching her, observing her movements. It made her nervous, and she _had_ voiced her opinions towards it. He had merely laughed at her. He had known, could _sense_ that it made her uncomfortable, and yet he had still gone and done it.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, sighing softly. Her food was untouched, and in her state, it wasn't that wise of a move to pull, but her thoughts were clouding her. She needed to go outside; she needed fresh air, she'd been inside far too long for the past few days since they had arrived back on Naboo. Padmé Naberrie-Skywalker absently wiped the corners of her mouth, having taken the napkin off her lap, and casually tossed it onto the table beside the plate. She stood slowly, taking a deep breath, and put a steady hand to her rounded stomach. 

She was six months pregnant, and from the size of her stomach, there was going to be more then one child. That was another matter on her mind, her unborn children. Anakin was a Jedi; that meant, from what she had heard and learned, that he was strong within its' ways. Did that mean her children were going to be born Force-sensitive? 

As she made her way out onto the back balcony, her hand absentmindedly stroked along the silk of her nightgown draped over her stomach. She paused in the doorway, watching him. He was tall, handsome, his once-short Padawan styled hair gone, replaced now with long curls that reached down to his shoulders. It blew lightly in the warm afternoon breeze. His hands were clasped behind his back; his legs spread slightly, his face tilted upwards to meet the wind. The sight brought a smile to her face, as well as the memories, ones that had been disturbing in itself, for she could still, to this day, many months later, hear him calling out for his Mother while he slept.

At the moment, he was only dressed in a pair of light sleeping pants, his feet bare and his Jedi robes. They, too, moved in the breeze around his long limbs, but he seemed to be unaware of anything at that moment. He was meditating. She didn't wish to disturb the serene look on his face, and, with a faint smile, turned to go. 

"Don't go," he called back to her, not opening his eyes. His voice had deepened over the months, and it stirred things inside of her just hearing it.

She paused, gave a small helpless chuckle and turned back to look at him. Gradually, she moved to his side, looking out at the shimmering water. "You look so peaceful, so … calm. I don't want to disturb you, really."

Anakin Skywalker peeked open an eye, tilting his head down to glance at her. Her hair had lightened from the days they had spent in the sun. He liked it; it made her slender face glow. A small smile crept onto his lips, and he closed his eye again, turning his face back towards the wind. 

"Your presence is soothing." He paused. "Did I ever tell you that?"

Padmé nodded slowly, smiling still, and leaned her head on his arm for a moment, standing in silence beside him. Without a word, he unclasped his hands from behind, and lifted his arm, draping it lovingly around her shoulders, holding her to him. He leaned down, brushed his lips against her forehead, inhaling the faint sweet scent of her hair, and nuzzled his nose into the long, dark curls held back away from her heart-shaped face by a small silver headband. 

"Jedi don't have nightmares, remember? And it's not right to dwell on the past…."

Padmé lifted her face, wrapping her arms around his waist; her stomach pressed lightly against him, and grinned, her eyes soft. "Not even that late into the afternoon, and you're already pulling your Jedi mind reading tricks on me." She gave his stomach a gentle pat. "I told you that that's a rude thing to do, Annie…"

Anakin chuckled quietly, and swiftly bent, scooping her up into his arms. He moved towards the balcony, secretly enjoying the smell of the jasmine and lavender flowers intertwined between the small pillars of the railing. "And if my memory serves me well, Senator, I believe I told you, oh so long ago, to not call me that. Ah, in fact, I asked you nicely … added a 'please' to it, as well."

She clung to him, arms around his neck, and snuggled against him. With him, she felt safe, she felt as if nothing could ever harm her in any way possible. "Perhaps, but to me, you'll always be that little boy I knew on Tatooine."

He scowled slightly, shaking his head, and carefully set her down. Immediately she turned her back to him, staring out at the water, and sighed, closing her eyes. He looked down at her from above, and moved closer so her back was pressed against him. His hands came around and skimmed along the bulging belly delicately. Feeling the life inside, he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on the top of her head, his fingers dancing over the fabric of her nightgown. She let a small smile curve her lips, and brought her hands up to cover his, guiding them along the curves.

Ever since he had lost his right arm battling against Count Dooku, it hadn't bothered her at all, there was no need for it to – it was just apart of him as everything else was, only this arm was a mechanical one; not one made of proper flesh. 

"I will always love you, Padmé," Anakin whispered softly, nuzzling his lips against her hair, enjoying the feel of it tickling his nose.

"I know," she returned, her voice just as soft, and gave his hands an assuring squeeze. She took his right hand in hers and lifted it, bringing the fingers to her lips. He smiled into her hair, as she kissed them, and gave her a light hug, holding her close. 

He liked being with her; he loved her. It was … _forbidden_ for a Jedi to love, in fact forbidden for the _both_ of them, but he knew his feelings for her were strong, and hers just the same; they'd always been so ever since he had seen her with Master Qui-Gon Jinn on Tatooine and he had been working for Watto as a little boy. Attachment was forbidden, as was possession, but compassion, which he had defined to her, as an unconditional love, was different. She had been like an angel, stepping out of the sky, and dropping straight into his life. He had always dreamt of her, always, along with his Mother, but his dreams of her had been disturbing, haunting him day and night, never letting him live properly. 

Master Yoda and Master Obi-wan Kenobi had specifically told him to not let his feelings cloud his judgment; they had warned him countless of times, but he had stopped listening to them after the first few warnings had grown to be an annoyance. 

"It was a shock, wasn't it?" Her soft-spoken voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head slightly, resting his lips in her hair, and then looked out at the island on the other side of the water. A small child sat in the sand, a shovel in hand, and a plastic pail in the other. She looked happy, calm, sitting in the sun and sand with the water lapping at her little feet. 

Padmé turned slightly, looking up at him, then followed his gaze out to the small girl in the sand. She smiled sadly, watching in silence, her hands on her stomach. At that very moment, she wondered whether or not her unborn children would play in the sand, feel safe under the warm, welcome sun, laughing and running around, happy – as she had grown up to known. The little girl, crawling along the sand, full bucket in hand, dumped the sand carefully, constructing a perfect stump that would later be called her castle.

Anakin stirred from behind, and sighed heavily, hugging her hard against him. The breeze had abruptly gone cool, the sun fading behind clouds, and goose bumps prickled along his bare torso. Padmé turned fully in his arms, lifting her face to carefully study his. His eyes were dark, when usually they were bright and full of laughter, happiness she only saw reserved for her. She silently lifted a hand, her fingers tracing out the hard lines of his lips and stood slowly on tiptoe, pressing hers to them, her hand sliding over his cheek to cup it, holding his mouth to hers.

His mechanical arm crept around her waist, holding her to him, while his other hand lifted, his fingers tangling in her long hair; hair he enjoyed to see spread along the pillows on special intimate nights shared only with each other. They kept the embrace for a moment longer before breaking apart, both breathing heavily. Anakin closed his eyes, leaning down to rest his forehead on hers, before slowly bringing her head to his chest. He groaned softly at the contact of her silky flesh brushing against his, and she wordlessly slipped her hands into his robes, gliding her fingers over the muscles of his back, applying pressure to the spine, massaging the flesh tenderly. 

Listening to his heartbeat against her ear, she then turned her face forward and let her lips graze lightly over his heart. "I have you, and you are mine … always."

He nodded, holding her closer, and let out a deep sigh. "Say it … tell me; I need to hear it from you, Padmé, please," he murmured, smoothing her hair down her back.

"I love you, Anakin Skywalker." 

A smile lifted his lips and he leaned down, nuzzling his nose against hers, both hands rubbing her back soothingly. "I know."

Padmé grinned, laughing quietly, and rested her forehead against his chest. She closed her eyes, enjoying his arms around her, his hands on her body, and relaxed easily in his touch, savoring it as she did every time he touched her. "You never answered my question, Annie…."

"Mm, and which was that, Senator?"

She had heard the laughter in his voice, and she couldn't help smiling again. "About the children … it's come as a shock to you, it would seem."

Anakin pulled back slightly to look down at her. She didn't lift her face, and he reached down, lifting it with his fingers under her chin. "I was … unprepared, I admit, but it was meant to happen, Padmé."

"How do you know that?" She furrowed her brow, a hand on her stomach.

"Ever since I saw you on Tatooine, when you first stepped into Watto's shop, I knew that I would marry you, and that we would have children." He grinned, nearly laughing out at the look of disbelief on her face.

She blinked a moment, then laughed out, amused. "Again, you go and make fun of me!"

This time his laughter joined hers, his voice sarcastic and soft as he repeated the words he had used so long ago. "Oh, no, I'd be much too frightened to tease a Senator…"

Padmé smiled faintly at the memory of them in the meadows near the waterfalls and sighed softly. He watched her, silent, and then lifted his mechanical hand to cup her cheek, the thumb brushing over her parted lips. She sighed again, tilting her cheek in his hand, stroking his back absently for a moment before pulling away. She forced a smile against his thumb, kissing it, and moved out of the protective circle his arms provided. She brushed past him, pulling her robes close around her, and tied the silk sash loosely at her waist. She then made her way for the doors that led back into the dining rooms, her arms hugged against her chest.

Anakin watched her go, trying to understand why she had gone so suddenly quiet and had withdrawn from him, and frowned. "What's wrong, Padmé?" he called out, his robes rippling in the breeze as the wind picked up, the clouds darkening. 

She paused in mid-step, and kept her back to him for a moment. She lowered her head, looking down at the marriage band on her left hand, and began to play with it distractedly. He waited, and began to move towards her, but stopped abruptly as she turned to face him. Her eyes searched his, and then she looked around him to the deserted shore of the island. The bucket and shovel lay in the sand, the stump that would've been claimed as a castle in crumbles. The little girl had disappeared. 

Padmé swallowed heavily, watching him as he turned to follow her gaze. Slowly, he turned back to look at her and shook his head. "Was it something I said? Something I … did wrong?"

She shook her head and smiled weakly, a hand to her stomach. "No, it's not you, Anakin. You could never do anything wrong. I just think I need to go inside now and sit; I'm feeling a little … lightheaded at the moment." She forced another smile, then stole a glance up at the quickly darkening skies, and involuntarily shivered. "I think we should both go in now…"

Anakin pursed his lips in thought, glanced up at the sky, ignoring the light droplets of water landing on his forehead, and looked back to her, nodding. "You're right … it probably would be best for us to head inside now, we don't want you to get sick."

As he moved forward, she nodded, shivering where she stood, and turned to head in just as his arm went around her waist. Just before the doors closed behind them, she glanced back and regretted it immediately as she saw the heavily black cloaked figure donned in a strangely frightening helmet standing on the terrace where her husband had once stood not only a moment ago. In a flash of lightning, he was gone, and she found herself ushered into the main room, unaware of her husband's eyes on her this time around for her mind was, once again, elsewhere at the moment…

[ … at this moment, I am unsure if I should continue this, or leave it. Now what does everyone think? Add more chapters, or leave it as it is? ]


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