Day Two: Hopes Live and Die

Spoiler Warning:

The second half of the chapter deals with a miscarriage - probably not for younger children.

Quick Note:

This will make it two chapters in one week. I posted this second one so that my cousins could read it sooner.

Acknowledgments:

Lots of thanks to my beta-reader for getting back with me so quickly for my first chapter. You’re the greatest!

The idea for this chapter and the crux of the first part of this book came from two of Darth Ishtar’s (theForce.net) fanfics: “Heartache on My List” and The Other Half, Part 2: The Dying of the Light.

Day Two

Hopes Live and Die

And we all dream our cherished dreams

And we hope for and long for

So many things…and

Until the day we see His face

We will never know all the whys

But the questions we carry will be erased

When we see the love in His eyes

And the hands that hold our hopes and dreams

Will reach out to welcome us Home

But for now we can know

That we never really dance alone

- Joanna Carlson, “Never Dance Alone”

Their camp was near the edge of a vast lake. On the distant side, mountains rose majestically to touch the gauzy pink clouds of dawn.

The Skywalkers had woken early. After bundling Padmé against the same tree, Anakin set to making breakfast. Strangely, Padmé was hurting today more than yesterday, but she hadn’t told Anakin that yet.

“You want pancakes?” he asked her.

Padmé exhaled a disbelieving laugh. “Ani, we need to be rationing this stuff,” she reminded him. “You shouldn’t be getting fancy.”

Anakin cocked his head. “You weren’t complaining about it last night.”

“I didn’t remember last night. Just make something simple – I’ll be okay.”

Anakin gave her a thoughtful once-over and nodded. “If you say so.”

Padmé turned her attention to the sun rising over the trees. It was beautiful. She was so absorbed in it that Anakin had to wave his hand in front of her face. “He-llo? Coruscant to Padmé – come in, Padmé.”

She turned back to him and gave him a dazzling smile. “Yes, husband mine?”

Anakin held up a bowl of porridge. Atop the porridge were two eggs and a piece of bacon to create a smile. Padmé rolled her eyes. “Ani!”

“Hey, don’t forget you’re eating for two now, Mama-girl,” he teased. Then he stopped and frowned in mock contemplation. “I wondered why you were eating so much at that reception.”

“Anakin!”

“Open up.”

Padmé rolled her eyes again and obeyed. After the first bite, she looked beyond Anakin at the cooking gear. “Where’s your breakfast?”

Anakin looked down, suddenly fascinated with the scuff-marks on his boots.

“Oh, Anakin, you need to eat, too!”

“Not necessarily!” he protested. “I’m a Jedi – I use the Force. I can go for a couple days without food. I’m not the one who really needs to eat.”

“Anakin –”

“No, Padmé,” he said, his voice suddenly firm and commanding.

Padmé stared at him in surprise: she had never heard that tone of voice before. Before… well, she was the elder of them, and the wiser, and he generally listened to her. To have those positions suddenly switched felt awkward, but it felt right at the same time. He was the head of their family. She slowly nodded her submission.

“Anyway,” began Anakin, his voice softening, “I’m going to start hunting for meat and searching for edible plants. It could be weeks before someone comes for us, so I have to be planning for the meantime.”

Padmé voiced the fear that both had secretly held. “What if no one ever comes?”

Anakin locked eyes with her, his blue gaze electrically intense. “Then we start over – here.”

That was the last thing Padmé had expected to hear. “What?”

“Padmé, we can do it. Start a new life for ourselves here. This area is rich in resources. We can build ourselves a log cabin, grow a garden, raise a big family… We can do it.”

“Anakin!” Padmé exclaimed, incredulous.

His eyes took on a distant look as he stared out across the lake. “And when we have a lot of kids, we can go mining for metals, and shape them… Maybe someday, our kids will have built something space-worthy, and our family will be free again.” He returned his attention to her, childlike excitement in his eyes. “We can build our own civilization, right here on the edge of the Unknown Regions.” Then, as if it had just hit him: “I can even start our own Jedi Order!”

Laughing still hurt, but Padmé did it anyway. “Anakin Skywalker – you…!” She laughed again. “You’re crazy, Skywalker!”

Anakin pretended to be taken aback. “Really, Padmé, I’m hurt.”

Padmé shook her head, still grinning. “The craziest part is that I think you could be right.”

Anakin’s grin lit up the camp. He stood up, ignited his lightsaber, and raised it high. “I claim this land forever to be the Skywalkers’!” he declared, half-playfully, half-seriously. “And we’ll call it…” He closed his eyes, searching for a good name. “Beltaine.”

“Beltaine?”

“That’s what they called the first of May in Erin,” Anakin explained. “Gilraen told me that.”

“Erin… that was the name for ancient Ireland, wasn’t it?”

Anakin nodded. “I’d say that it’s about regional May right now – it looks like mid-spring.”

Padmé nodded her agreement. “Beltaine – I like it.”

Anakin dramatically brandished his saber in the air. “King and Queen Skywalker do hereby forever name this world Beltaine.”

“Am I supposed to cheer?” Padmé asked dryly.

Anakin stared at her. “Very funny.”

~*~

Padmé was worried. It was late afternoon, and she had been discharging blood little by little all day. By lunchtime, she’d told Anakin, and now he was worried, too. Neither of them voiced the fear that the baby would die – neither wanted to concede the possibility.

Suddenly, Padmé felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. “Anakin!” she cried.

He flew to her side, his face white. “I know,” he whispered.

Tears welled up in her wide brown eyes and rolled down her face. “I think… I think…”

Anakin pressed his finger to her lips. “I know,” he repeated, his own tears falling. He pressed his wife’s trembling body against his own in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Anakin… Anakin…”

“Padmé, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” I didn’t check the ship before we left to see if it was sabotaged. If I had, we never would have crashed. If we hadn’t, our baby wouldn’t be – wouldn’t be…

They cried together.

~*~

It was over by nightfall.

Padmé had cried herself to sleep.

It was midnight, and Anakin couldn’t sleep. Not wanting to disturb his wife, he left the tent and stood out at the water’s edge, trying to let the mountain night breeze calm him. But no calm came.

He felt racked with guilt and loss. Anger festered in his tortured heart.

Like when his mother died.

As his shoulders began to shake again, he put his left hand over his mouth, then moved it up to cover his eyes. God, why? Why did You take our child? He was just a baby – why did You…

The father collapsed to his knees in a storm of tears and pounded the ground so hard that his whole mechno arm hurt. He welcomed the pain, tried to concentrate on it than on the pain in his soul.

He had felt the baby die. It had been like a light going out, both inside Padmé’s womb and inside Anakin’s own heart. He had been powerless to stop it. Why couldn't I save him?

"Sometimes there are things no one can fix... You're not all-powerful Anakin."

"Well, I should be. Someday, I will be the most powerful Jedi ever! I promise you: I will even learn to stop people from dying!"

Anakin turned back to the tent. "I'm sorry, Padmé. We will survive this. We will get another chance... I promise."

Some things we can't change

No matter how hard we've tried

And we've failed

Seems there's nothing to do but endure

Life is not easy

And pain is no stranger

And we're constantly faced

With the choice to embrace or to run

Oh but there's strength when we run in

To Love's faithful arms

And we find hope again... and

Until the day we see His face

We will never know all the whys

But the questions we carry are gonna be erased

When we see the love in His eyes

And the hands that hold our hopes and dreams

Reach out to welcome us Home

But for now we can know

That we never really dance alone

- “Never Dance Alone”