The senator of Naboo woke up fairly guarded and nervous this morning.

Breakfast had been served to her, hot and mouthwatering to the senses just from a whiff of its heavenly scent, but she hadn't been able to stomach more than a few bites. She didn't understand why she was so fidgety and tense, or why her abdomen seemed to have Turuga jilaflies ecstatically fluttering around inside her with no sign of rest. She was nervous, there was no denying it… but she had been to more intimidating sessions and confrontations than this, certainly. She just couldn't comprehend why her body and troubled mind was reacting this way to such a simple matter.

"It's completely understandable," Dormé had told her. "Jedi Council beckons can indeed be trivial."

Yes, it was trivial, but at least she knew why they had summoned her. It didn't help matters, however. The mere fact that she had been summoned disturbed her.

As odd as it was, she had a very bad feeling about today.

Padmé had gone up to her room for a while to try to calm herself, telling her captain and Dormé that she wasn't feeling so well and to call her when Anakin arrived to escort her to the Temple. Exchanging concerned glances, they nodded and told her that they would.

She sat down on her bed, facing her wide windows. Her eyes were unfocused on the dim, early-morning atmosphere as she clenched something inside her hand. She could feel the engravings and the smooth solidity inside her palm; savoring the feeling of hope and comfort it strangely gave her.

She even mustered a small grin as she uncurled her fingers and looked down at what she was holding so firmly, so religiously. It was the japor snippet Anakin had made for her, ten years ago. It amazed her at how it still brought her reassurance, yet she wasn't so surprised.

Sighing, she tucked it inside of the hidden pocket inside of her corset. Suddenly, she heard the sound of her door sliding open. She could make out the tall figure of her captain standing in her doorway from the corner of her eye.

"Senator, Anakin Skywalker is here."

"Thank you, Captain. I will be right out." Nodding, he stepped out, and Padmé shortly followed after him.

Anakin was standing as her eyes found him, swathed entirely in dark robes and looking very professional, even somewhat… menacing. He certainly looked the part of a Jedi.

He bowed his head to her, a gesture of etiquette to royalty.

"Milady," he said to her as she neared him. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as possible, Knight Skywalker," she said, grinning, trying to cover up her real worries.

Anakin smirked at her before looking up at Captain Typho.

"I will be meeting you outside of the Temple," he informed Anakin. "I will be trusting you to keep her safe until then."

"You have my word."

With a brief goodbye to her captain of security and Dormé wishing her good luck, they headed out of her quarters.

They were silent as they walked on through the corridors and halls, boarding an elevator and going down to the first floor. Anakin had already quickly glanced in her direction about twenty times now.

"What's the matter?" he suddenly asked her, watching her hands. "You're wringing your hands, and all the color's been drained from your face. You also haven't said a single word in the last ten minutes. I can sense… fear."

"I'm nervous." Padmé did not take pleasure in admitting this aloud; especially when she saw the amused smile that spread across Anakin's handsome features.

"Nervous? A senator? I thought senators were used to these things. I thought they couldn't get nervous," he chuckled.

"Well, you thought wrong, Anakin. Everyone gets nervous, you know that – I don't understand why you've got to exclude senators."

"I don't," he said, looking at her, smiling. "Not intentionally. Just one."

Padmé pursed her lips, looking away. "The fact that they'd called for me in because of my stand against the Chancellor makes me question my weighing scale of right and wrong," she said as they turned a corridor. "It is not easy to tolerate."

"You seemed completely sure of yourself out there. I don't understand how it's suddenly changed… unless you think you've made a mistake."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"Senators have never been summoned to a Jedi meeting before," she said, looking up at him with an anxious look in her eyes.

"You've a point. Does that bother you?"

She sighed. "Yes. A little. But I look forward to it, despite all the twists and snarls inside my stomach. The Jedi are wise. They know what they are doing."

"Yes, they are wise. At least, they can be."

She sent him a puzzled look, surprised at his comment. "What do you mean?"

Anakin sighed, looking ahead. "Like you, I have doubts as well. As I am maturing, I am obtaining more information about the Force and the Council, as well as the works and mind of a true Jedi."

"And… now you are questioning them?" she asked, flabbergasted. She was not sure of what he was saying – and if she liked what she was hearing.

"Sometimes. I feel like they are holding me back, chaining me to some ancient code that no one abides to anymore."

"That isn't true, Anakin. Every Jedi Master follows the code. They have to. It—"

"Is required," he finished off for her. "I know. But to become a powerful Jedi does not entail for one to limit one's life by the code." He looked at her. "Being a Jedi comes with many burdens, and I've become tired of them."

"I'm sure everyone does… but you still have to abide by the code. The Jedi Council would expel one from the order if someone even stepped one toe out of line."

"They are strict, I agree. But it is the matters of which circumstances they are severe and stern in that cause my swaying. I do not understand why a Jedi is not allowed to engage in a romantic relationship – yet, when coming face-to-face with an enemy; it is only because of dire grounds that we are allowed to kill him. It is not right."

"It is called mercy, Ani," she said, looking at him as if she was seeing a different man, not the Anakin she had known before. "And, it is right. Mercy and compassion, you told me before, is central to a Jedi's life. Killing someone when peaceful negotiations can be made, and destroying the advantages that can be helped when recruiting an ally, is wrong. Cruel, and vicious too, at that."

Anakin smirked down at her.

"It is only a matter of point of view, Padmé," he said. "And, I'm glad I loosened you up. Do you see? You aren't nervous anymore."

Padmé looked at him, furrowing her brow, trying to understand what he meant, but then started to laugh lightly as she understood.

"Very clever, Anakin," she said, smiling, yet there was a dark stirring inside of her heart that she tried her best to conceal.

"I could've easily used the Jedi mind trick," he informed her jokingly. "But that only works for the weak-minded – which you most certainly are not. After all, you're a politician. You… you shouldn't be so nervous. You've done nothing wrong."

"Thank you," she gratefully beamed. "Your sly tactics helped. Just don't do it again next time."

Anakin laughed.

oooo

"Senator Amidala," Mace Windu acknowledged her mannerly along with the other Master Jedi. "Thank you for coming."

"You summoned me," she replied. Her face was impassive, yet headstrong and very serious. "It would be considered as impolite and discourteous if I hadn't."

"You do know why you were beckoned here, do you not? Anakin Skywalker was sent to inform you what very little details we are able to reveal about this meeting."

"I do, Master Windu. It is about my stand against Chancellor Palpatine at the capital."

The Jedi nodded. "Do you consider that action to be wise or efficient?" asked Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mudi.

"I am against selecting anyone to be given the emergency powers," she firmly declared. "Not only Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. I made it known that we would be tearing out the seams of the quilt of democracy – the democracy that our Congress has worked so hard to build over the centuries – and unraveling them if we did so, resulting in terrible and unspeakable consequences. It is not a wise decision that we appoint anyone with the emergency powers. Palpatine is for the war. I will never stand behind something other than peace."

The circle of Master Jedi exchanged looks.

"Dangerous, your action was," Yoda nodded. "Endanger your life it did."

Padmé stood steadfastly, her gaze unwavering and fierce.

"Master Yoda is correct," Mace Windu agreed. "While your stand was indeed heroic and righteous, it was foolish."

"I have had people attempt to assassinate me before, Master Windu. I am used to the constant threat of my life being taken away. I will undoubtedly risk my life for the rights of my people and the rites of democracy. If I feel that it is in jeopardy in any way, I will take a stand, no matter what the hazard."

"Senator, please do not feel offended," said Obi-Wan, his form outlined and filled in with blue lighted-lines from the holovid projection. "We are only looking out for your safety."

"To me, it sounds as if you are telling me how to do my job," she harshly said.

"Commanding you we are not," said the wise Yoda, shaking his wrinkled, green head. "Worried we are. For you and the Republic."

Padmé's eyes flickered to the little Jedi Master. "May I ask why?"

Yoda's squinty eyes looked up at her. His small face was grim yet knowing. "Hovering ahead the cloud of the Dark side is," he replied slowly. "Around the Republic. Corrupted we feel it is." The senator's gaze was curious and wildly intrigued.

"Please be wary," said Obi-Wan. "Senator, assassins are never too good to take on a job to murder a senator. Your stand… it opened up a few other senators' eyes."

"But isn't that good?"

"Yes, and no," replied Master Windu. "Some people think that you are threatening the Republic. Your opinions are very well known, Senator, but Palpatine is a very powerful man with many allies and followers – your speech and your uncovering may have offended them. The Trade Federation will hear about your speech, and they will also be enraged. You are the enemy for those who will gain from the war. You are not safe."

"I will have my captain increase my security."

"That will not be enough. We sense trouble ahead, for you."

"A wicked scheme we sense," nodded Yoda.

"What will you have me do, then? My life has always been in danger. Yes, maybe the bars have been raised a little, but I cannot leave my place. I must stand strong as the lead in the opposition."

"You cannot serve the good, or democracy, or even Naboo if you are dead, Senator Amidala," interjected Ki-Adi-Mudi. "Something is going to happen. It is getting nearer and much easier to sense within each second."

"I am not going to leave Coruscant," she argued stubbornly. "My place is here."

"Please understand," insisted Obi-Wan. "It is for the best—"

"I think I know very well what is best for me," she snapped. "And I will do my duty."

The Jedi were silent, looking at her with faces very skeptical.

"We will respect your wishes, Senator," Mace finally said after a few moments of tense silence. "But if any attack happens… it will be required of you. You are our friend in the Senate. The last thing we want is for anything to happen to you."

Padmé nodded. She then opened her mouth to ask a question, one that was making the muscles in her stomach wriggle very similar to how a Dawyn would on land.

"I would like a question answered, Master Jedi," she asked. "Why did you summon me here?"

A wry smile peeked out from Yoda's face. "See it for ourselves we had," he answered. "Rare to find senators with great instinct of sensing right from wrong."

Despite herself and the fact that she had just been arguing with them a few moments ago, she had to hold back a privileged grin. "I am flattered."

"You may go, Senator. I know your hands are busy with very important matters. We do not wish to keep you. Please keep us informed. Knight Skywalker will always lend an open ear to your distresses and worries. Suspicions, as well."

Padmé nodded. "I will. I am utmost grateful for your support." And with that, she left and exited the circle of Jedi Masters.

They were silent for a few moments, trying to tap into the Force and contemplate of her intentions and future.

"Anakin Skywalker will have to stay within close proximity to her," Windu announced aloud. "It is the only choice we have. She trusts him; they have a strong bond, I can sense it. Both she and Anakin have connections to the Chancellor, but Anakin is beginning to sway and suspect Palpatine. Senator Amidala is indeed conscious of her surroundings and the Senate. Her presence can only help him."

"But do you think it is wise?" objected Obi-Wan. "Anakin is still a child. A Jedi Knight, yes, and an excellent fighter… but he has many weaknesses. His pride is one of them, as well as Senator Amidala. I am very concerned with him, Master."

"We all are, Obi-Wan," said Mace. "But we have no other choice."

"His feelings for her are—"

"It can only help us," he interrupted him. "Her presence will intoxicate him, and hopefully, some of her views will transfer over to him. If he really is as bound to her as you say… good results can only come from this."

"But, Master, I do not think he is ready—"

"Believe in him we must," Yoda declared in his aged voice, his hand under his chin. "Trust in the Force our only choice is. Led to the right path young Skywalker will be if he listens to the Force."

The Jedi, this time, had no choice but to agree and hope that he was right.

oooo

Anakin met her along with Captain Typho at the outer-entrance to the Jedi Temple.

"How did it go?" asked Anakin as they began to walk down the flight of stairs. They had asked Anakin to wait outside of the room, along with Captain Typho. Master Windu had said that it was of strictly confidential business.

"Good," she answered. "But I am still disturbed with their proposition."

Anakin gave her a curious look. "Why? What did they ask?"

"To leave Coruscant, seek refuge," she replied bitterly. "Like a coward."

"But… why is that, milady?" asked Captain Typho.

"They say that people think I am threatening the Republic," she answered grimly. "I have gained more enemies than the usual amount. The Trade Federation, they suspect, will be seeking to wipe me off from the face of the galaxy soon."

A dark and grave look swept over Anakin's concerned face. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"My stand against the Chancellor was not welcome, Ani," she sighed. "They called it foolish. It has put my life in even more danger. That is all I can say for now."

"I shall be increasing security and recruiting more officers then, milady," Captain Typho informed her. "A bigger threat calls for bigger precautions."

"That would be most appreciated, Captain," she replied, still aware of Anakin's intense gaze on her. "Please do it as quickly as possible."

"Will do, Senator," he said.

"Padmé," Anakin spoke. "What do you mean? Your life endangered? By your stand against the Chancellor?" He clutched the handle of his lightsaber tightly inside his robe.

"Please," she said, feeling very exhausted with all this business. "I do not wish to talk about it right now. I must attend to other issues. This will be resolved in the appropriate time."

"But, listen—" he persisted again, when his words were suddenly cut off by a shrieking, flashing siren inside his mind, the Force's instant warning. He instantly drew his lightsaber, the blue laser sword lighting up, hearing its infamous hum. "Padmé, get down!" he suddenly yelled as she and Captain Typho's eyes widened from surprise. "Get down! Right now!" His words were almost masked by a sound of unexpected and continuous shots from high above them, pelting down around them.

Flame-like laser bullets rained down on the three, with Anakin standing in front of Padmé, his lightsaber out and striking away each of the shots with precise and quick skill. Her captain had immediately taken out his gun and was trying to shoot down the assassin, a heavily cloaked being with a powerful Phi-6790 laser rifle in a coal speeder.

Just then, as Padmé was down on the ground, her hands covering her head, she felt a burst of scalding pain blister within her shoulder. She cried out, clutching her shoulder, feeling her smoking, severed skin underneath her fingers, jerking them back instantly after she felt the heat from the shot burn the sensitive pads of her fingertips. She began to let out whimpers of pain, gritting her teeth from the explosive pain and the smell of burning asphalt and skin.

"The senator's hurt!" Captain Typho shouted.

"Get her to safety! Now!" commanded Anakin as the assassin suddenly stopped shooting and started to speed away. The young Jedi knight ran after him, hopping into one of the speeders, starting the ignition, and thrusting the acceleration up to full speed. The vehicle's engine hummed almost noisily as it instantaneously levitated from the ground, jerking forwards with incredible speed and fluid motion.

He caught up to the unknown hired gun quickly, his simple speeder no match for the skilled, high-tech modifications of Anakin Skywalker. However, as he saw the blue, distorted face of the assigned killer smirk at him, it was obvious that he had a few other tricks up his sleeve. He whipped out his rifle and gunned him down while Anakin dodged it, his speeder swaying side to side, some of his fires piercing through the steely exterior of his vehicle. The cloaked man then sped up, Anakin hearing a wicked cackle rumbling from his direction, and followed not far behind.

Anakin was viciously determined on catching the killer and finding out who he was – and who gave him the job. If there was anything Anakin was good at besides swordsmanship, it was high-speed chases – even in the midst of terrible Coruscant traffic in the afternoon.

Just then, Anakin's speeder made a violent swerve, ramming into the side of the assassin, who was aggressively impacted and almost crashed into a nearby building complex. They heard drivers spitting curses at them in Huttese, but carried on with their volatile chase.

An idea was sparked inside Anakin's brain, his brows corrugated as he keenly watched the assassin. He thrust his acceleration up a notch higher, speeding up, hearing the rumbles of the engine roar as his speeder rapidly moved up, now side to side with the other speeder. He was still shooting at him, making it very difficult for Anakin to get very close for too long, as he had to constantly sway his vehicle from getting shot. He could already smell the burning metal and smoke from his speeder, noticing the many shots on the front hood.

"This is my best speeder," he grumbled to himself as he took hold of his lightsaber again and lit it up. "This is going to take months to repair manually if he demolishes the engine." He swerved to the side, colliding and conjoining with the other speeder. Dodging other cars, he let go of the controls and stood, leaning over and vehemently stabbing his lightsaber right into the assassin's hood. His speeder veered sharply, causing Anakin's body to suddenly jerk along with it. His body almost flung off of his speeder from the sudden motion, but the tips of his feet were forcefully hanging onto the top edge of the door.

"Jedi scum!" he hissed, cocking his gun and starting to shoot again.

Anakin rapidly retrieved his lightsaber and stabbed it back inside into the place he was sure the main engine was placed. He plunged it in deep, all the while still dodging his shots, and smiled devilishly when he heard loud crackles overcome the noise of pelting laser shots. He slid it out and fell back into his speeder, taking control of it right before it crashed into another line of cars.

The assassin's speeder began to sputter and barricades of black smoke arose from his hood, masking his vision. Anakin could hear him damning Anakin and all of his ancestors and relatives in Huttese, but the young Knight still continued to smirk, unaffected by his verbal condemnation, as the vehicle started to slow. Anakin's speeder overlapped his and blocked his way, stopping, hopping over to the seats. His lightsaber was in his hand, sending an effective glow. Many onlookers were watching curiously and wildly, wanting to see some Jedi action.

The assassin, who was choking from the heavy stink and musk of the smoke, was squinting his eyes in pain. The gas leak had triggered another smell into the bunch, one that lethally burned the eyes. Anakin could see a river of fuel pouring out of the first hole he had made. He was not affected by the smells of burning or fuel – his lungs had become accustomed to them, being a veteran mechanic.

He pinned him down in the seat while the killer aggressively squirmed. Anakin pointed his lightsaber right at his neck, frightfully close to the flesh, his face serious and threatening.

"Who sent you?" Anakin demanded, tightly grasping his neck. "Tell me!"

"You'll never get it out of me, Jedi," the assassin spat in his face, grinning deviously. He then started to cough again, his body shaking violently.

"We can do this painfully or one that requires less pain," he told him sternly. "Answer me. Who sent you?"

The assassin succeeded in once again spitting in his face.

Getting impatient, Anakin pressed his finger down on his larynx, his robotic hand very near to snapping his throat. The murderer's bloodshot eyes bulged out of their sockets, his mouth open and struggling for air. He was scraping at Anakin's arms, fighting to breathe.

"I'm only going to ask again," Anakin yelled. "Who sent you?"

But as the assassin slowly started to calm, his eyes narrowed and he grinned toothily. Dark blood was trickling from his lips and nose. It was a grin that infuriated Anakin, who was fighting from gauging his neck altogether with his hand.

"Qaurym," he choked out.

"Who?" Anakin asked again, not recognizing the name.

But his bloodied lips only widened. Suddenly, he kicked out a leg, pressing a button on the dashboard. He started to coarsely cackle.

Anakin's eyes widened as he realized what he had done.

An explosion of smoke and fire blinded the civilians of Coruscant. Metal parts rained down on them, still scalding and bubbling from the intense heat of the detonation. Shouts of curses and angry bewilderment arose in the already hectic and uptight environment.

Anakin landed on the passenger seat of a nearby car stuck in mid-high traffic. The edges of his Jedi garments were burned and crisp from the abrupt blast, sweat and ash smothered across his face. His lightsaber was in his hand, and he was relieved that he hadn't lost it or left it. Though he was no longer his master, Obi-Wan would still scold him bloody murder if he had managed to get it destroyed yet again.

He turned his head at the angry driver seated next to him. It was a blubbery creature with pale skin and pink boils protruding from its bald head. Two of its arms were on the wheel, a third holding the Coruscant daily business newspaper, and another was holding up a smoking metal part from the assassin's speeder.

The driver irritably asked him if it was his, and Anakin, looking up at where the assassin's speeder had been, sighed. The speeder was gone. He could sense that the assassin had not escaped alive – an explosion like that could not have spared anyone's life, had they been caught right in the stomach of it like the insufferable brute had.

"Yes," he said as the driver threw it at his chest, where Anakin caught it with his mechanized hand. The smoking engine part still had bubbling fuel on it.

At least it was valuable. Anakin had needed a second engine semi-generator for another of his speeders for quite some time now.

oooo

A projection of a blue light, blurry-formed Obi-Wan appeared before him. His voice was sometimes fuzzed over by static, making it indecipherable to Anakin.

"An assassin?" asked Obi-Wan.

"Yes, Master. An assassin. Right after we left the Temple. It seemed to me that the assassin was in a hurry to kill Padmé – it's risky to attempt an assassination in front of the Jedi Temple. And foolish."

"I concur. And how is Senator Amidala?"

"She's hurt. She was shot in the shoulder, but it is only a minor injury."

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. He spoke in a quiet voice. "You know what this means, Anakin. What the Jedi Masters had predicted has come true. The senator has much less regard for her safety that it's very dangerous. You will receive your orders when I arrive on Coruscant. Expect a summoning to the Jedi Council very soon."

"Very well, Master."

"Oh, and Anakin. I forgot to ask – did you manage to get him to tell you who hired him?"

"He only said one word before he made his speeder self-destruct. He said, 'Quarym.' I'm not familiar with it, but I don't think it's a name."

"I agree. It sounds ancient."

Another wave of static passed, wobbling Obi-Wan's hologram.

"Do what research you can," he instructed him. "I will be there in two day's time. We will both speak to the Council on the full horizon of the senator's attempted murder. The members already have orders for you, but we will know everything when we go to the Temple. Look after the senator, Anakin. Make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

"I will."

"May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan."

The holovid vanished.

oooo

Padmé's injury in her shoulder was treated at a nearby hospital where she stayed overnight for further observation, in case the shot held a sort of poisonous substance. Dormé and her captain warily watched over her with officers guarding every entrance, as well as installing a camera and alarm inside her room.

Padmé, however, did not see what all the fuss was about. She was shot – many others had had worse wounds. Senator Organa's sister had lost an eye! She merely thought that the extreme security measures they were taking were unnecessary and she was constantly bothered by the murmurs parading around her. They looked as if she was on her deathbed, and no matter how much she tried to reassure them that she was fine, they only smiled uneasily, as if uncertain what to say. Frustrated, she had then resorted to telling them to check her medical records if they needed proof.

But while everyone seemed to be on their toes around her, Padmé herself felt grim and uncertain. The Jedi Council had told her this was going to happen, and it wasn't that she hadn't believed them; it was just that she thought she'd have more time. She didn't think she'd be shot down the moment she left the Temple – such an act was heinously foolish! She could only guess that whoever had hired her assassin had been desperate to get rid of her quickly. It was risky to attack her in broad daylight in front of the Temple while she was with both her captain of security and a Jedi knight.

Padmé shivered in her white hospital sheets.

"Milady, are you cold?" asked Dormé, who was sitting at her bedside.

"No, I'm just fine, Dormé," replied Padmé, feeling as if Dormé would have pounced on her if she even let out a little sneeze.

"Are you certain, milady? I can turn down the temperature."

"I'm fine," she sighed, tired of being watched so attentively. She looked towards the window, but they'd shut that too.

She'd never been fond of hospitals. When she was little in Naboo, she had been burned on the leg by one of the speeder's exhaust pipes and had to stay at the hospital her aunt Kamee worked at for an entire week. It had been fun for the first few days, lying in bed with a white cast on her leg and being served hospital food. Some of the neighborhood volunteers had even put on a puppet show for her a few times.

Then the quietness had started to get to her. Hospitals had always been cold to her, but when she awoke late one night, she was shivering aggressively. There was no light in the room, not a single one, and she began to feel paranoid. She couldn't move because of the cast still on her leg, and so she began to cry. She cried until morning, when one of the nurses came to check on her and gave her a sedative so she would fall asleep.

It was indeed a childish thing to be afraid of hospitals, but ever since then, every time she had to step into a cold hospital room, shivers scraped at her skin. She was disturbed by the pale walls, the spicy, sharp and stinging astringent smell. The beds pricked her heart, as well as the thank you notes the nurses and workers taped up on the walls to brighten up the children's room. Her little brother had died in one of those rooms, and even though she hadn't met him because she had been away at camp, she was still saddened by their misfortune. Sola had been there to witness their week-old baby brother pass away, and she couldn't step into a hospital room without her eyes acquiring a glossy sheen.

Hospitals were very sad places. She couldn't imagine having to come here everyday. She would be depressed out of her wits. Then again, there were some people who didn't understand why one would want to be a politician, so she kept her personal thoughts of hospitals to herself.

Another matter that had kept her up that night was the fact that she now had to pack up her things and lock herself up in Naboo, away from Coruscant, the capital, and Palpatine. She wanted to refuse the orders of the Council, but was such a thing even possible? Indeed, they were only concerned for her safety, but what about the outcome of the Congress' voting? All would be lost if she couldn't somehow affect it and tip it to their favor, at least enough to buy time for the Jedi to find out some way to prove that Palpatine was double-dealing. She could not – would not – tolerate it if they officiated the Clone Army and the beginning of the war. She would not stand for such an unjust solution.

What did they expect her to do in Naboo while they took their time trying to find evidence for Palpatine? Swim in the Nubian sea? Lie in the sand and get a tan? Drink and relax? How could one relax if the fate of the whole Republic rested on a Senate that was corrupted and brainwashed by an evil man? She would rather die and see that the Wars would not start than live and see it begin and watch as Palpatine single-handedly ruined the very soul of democracy and democracy itself that they had spent centuries trying to build.

Was it power that Palpatine wanted? Was the power he already had not enough? Or was he just a wicked sadist bent on trying to wreck havoc on the whole galaxy?

It upset Padmé so much when she thought of it that she almost avoided thinking of it altogether. But the more she lay on her bed with the piquant stench pervading her nose and the coldness of the white walls prickling her skin, the more she thought of it. She needed to do something, rally up the other senators. Time, she realized now, was not to be taken advantage of. If her almost-assassination had managed to teach her anything, anything at all, it would be that. Time was too precious, too needed to waste lying around in a bed.

She sighed.

If only her captain and Dormé would understand that.

As her glum thoughts distantly trailed off, she couldn't help but wonder what Anakin was doing right at this moment. Talking with the Council, perhaps? She hoped that he would try to convince them to let her stay, but she doubted he would protest to her leaving. Anakin cared for her safety too much, and it was a heavy burden for them both. Soon, it would be a burden to the Jedi Council. She realized she feared that day, were it to possibly come soon.

Just then, as if Anakin had sensed her thoughts floating around the subject of him, his familiar tall figure walked into the room. Padmé sat up, startled, her hand to her chest and feeling her heart pound against the sensitive skin of her palm.

She suddenly felt conscious of her surroundings and felt very vulnerable. A tumor of fear and expectation began to blossom inside her lungs.

"Dormé," said Anakin, acknowledging her handmaiden. "May I have the room with the senator?"

Dormé glanced at Padmé. Padmé could clearly see the faint trails of an oncoming smile as her handmaiden nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving her alone with the young Jedi.

Anakin turned and his brooding eyes met hers, making her breath stop short in her throat. He smiled at her – or at least attempted to. She could see from the way his eyes roamed over her in her hospital clothes and suddenly dimmed that it troubled him to see her like this.

She shifted uneasily in her sheets, wishing she were wearing her normal clothes. Though they were awfully weighty and stiff at times, she would have chosen them over this thin, unsatisfactory cloth dress any day. Why, she almost felt… naked.

Her face flared with heat at the thought.

"Anakin," she managed to say. Her voice was shaky.

He slowly made his way over to her and sat down on the edge of her bed. His eyes never left hers and she began to feel a pool of affection start to tide inside her chest.

"I don't like seeing you in hospitals," he admitted to her. He tried to smirk boyishly to somehow lighten the mood, and she could clearly hear concern in his tenor as he told her this for neither of them could really deny the graveness of this situation no matter how hard they tried. Not even her.

"Neither do I," she said, trying to sound like her normal self – regal and authorative – but found that her voice descended weak despite her attempt. "I've never been too fond of hospitals."

He smiled affectionately. Padmé felt a strange feeling spool from the top of her head to her toes. She had the bizarre urge to suddenly wrap her arms around him and kiss that smile of his for all that it was worth.

She blanched. When had she started thinking like this about him again? She had sworn off such sinful thoughts a very long time ago!

"I've just returned from talking with Obi-Wan," he informed her, looking down. She found herself staring at his adorable curls and almost raised her hand to comb through them, just to find out for herself exactly just how it would feel, but caught herself in time and lowered her hand, gently fisting it against her cold sheets. She vocally reprimanded herself inside her conscience.

She was acting very negligent – with rash thoughts, careless urges. How could she stop this? She thought she'd stopped it a long time ago, but now she was thinking that she was wrong. Or maybe it was just the painkillers they had told her to take that was making her act like so.

"He told me to look after you… and he's to be returning soon," he said, looking up and meeting her eyes again. "The Jedi Councilis going to be discussing your vacation."

Padmé scoffed. "Vacation? Is that what they're calling it now? I assure you, I don't need a vacation," she emphasized. "Anakin, you must understand: I can't leave. I can't. What will happen to the Senate? To the Republic? I can't just—"

"Padmé, the Senate will be just fine," he tried to reassure her. "And so will the Republic. Palpatine will—"

"Oh, to hell with Palpatine," she snapped.

Anakin stared at her in surprise. Never had he heard her speak in such unsophisticated and aggressive language.

"He's up to no good, Anakin, I know it," she told him sternly. "I can feel it. It's just what he wants. For me to leave, because it'll only weaken the opposition. Don't you see? If I leave, he wins. If I leave—"

"If you leave, you'll be safe," he interjected. "Padmé, you're being paranoid. Palpatine is a good man. He only wants what is best for the Republic. I think – maybe you should get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"I hate being here," she fiercely whispered to him, feeling frustrated. Why was it that no one wanted to listen to her? Did they just think she was just some madwoman? "I'm doing nothing to help matters."

"Yes, you are," he insisted. "You're resting. You need to rest."

"Anakin," she hastily said, suddenly grabbing his hand. His hand overlapped against her petite and slender fingers, her hand cold but bringing warm sensations to trickle throughout his whole body. "Listen to me," she said earnestly, searching his eyes. "Please try to convince the Council to let me stay. Please. I will be in no danger – I will have my captain enlist twenty guards to follow me everywhere. Please, Anakin. I ask you to do this for me."

She held his hand tightly. Her skin was so soft against his, like velvet, and he almost found himself aching inside.

How could she be so forbidden? How could she let herself become so far after they had just been so close?

Anakin's steely eyes pierced into her own. "It is not in my place, Padmé," he firmly said to her. "But I will try."