Title: I Remember Padmé
Author: NoobianRose
Pairing: Obidala
Rating: G (Whut?? I know, right!?)
Summary: On their way to Alderaan, Old Ben Kenobi is asked an important question by young Luke Skywalker about the fate of his mother. My take on a conversation that really should have happened.

I Remember Padmé

“Save your energy.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t give up, Padmé . . . Please. Your children. They need you.”

“Anakin . . . He’ll find me. He’ll find them. Obi-Wan. Promise me you’ll protect them. Promise me.”

“Ben?”

“Ben??” an unsure voice asked from the door at his back.

The old Jedi opened his eyes, relieved to be rescued from his memories. They’d haunted him enough for one day. Or was it night? One never could tell in space. The concepts of day and night were variable, mostly depending on what planet one was on and the rotation of that planet around its system’s central star. Here though, sitting on the deck of the Millennium Falcon, surrounded by the dark, quiet void, there was no night. No day. As a younger man he’d found some amount of solace in that idea, realizing that the universe was so much larger than one life. One battle. Even an entire planet. But as he aged, Old Ben Kenobi now saw simply . . . nothing.

‘Rather melodramatic, Kenobi,’ he chastised himself, quickly forcing a small smile to address his young traveling companion.

“Is everything okay?” Luke asked. His innocent concern was touching. “What are you doing in here?”

“My thoughts were a bit muddied. I was trying to mediate – to focus. I thought that you were going to try to get some rest before we reach Alderaan.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw the young man shrug, a simple gesture shooting the smallest pang of sadness through Obi-Wan’s heart. At times like these he looked so like his father . . . before his turn to the Dark Side.

Anakin’s son exhaled, perhaps taking Ben’s silence for disapproval. “I’m sorry, Ben,” Luke said, “I tried but I just . . . I guess my thoughts were jumbled too. So much has happened and I still have so many questions.”

Obi-Wan gestured to the floor in front of him, encouraging Luke to join. “Sit. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Luke did as requested, sitting across from the old Jedi upon the cold durasteel floor. He thought for a moment before speaking, searching for the right words. “There’s something I wanted to ask you. You’ve told me a lot about my father. How you knew him, what he was like . . .”

“Yes?”

“Well it’s just . . . Ben did you know my mother too?”

The Force had already whispered the boy’s intentions to Obi-Wan, so the Jedi knew what to expect. And yet, hearing the innocent, hopeful question spoken aloud still somehow managed to take him by surprise. Hers was a story Ben wasn’t sure he felt ready to tell. It was curious though. Luke coming to ask about Padmé just as Obi-Wan had been remembering her final moments. Surely not a coincidence. Obi-Wan didn’t believe in coincidence. But was it the Jedi’s memories influencing young Luke’s questions or was it the other way around?

“Did she die in the rebellion too?” Luke asked, clearly sensing the older man’s hesitance.

“Her name was Padmé,” he said at last, the sound of her name – heard to his ears for the first time in so very long – made him smile. “She was brilliant. She was passionate about her causes. Fierce. Charming. Kind, at times to a fault. Rather disarmingly beautiful. And she . . . she loved you very much.”

Luke gave a small, quick smile and looked away. “She sounds like a good person.”

Ben nodded, “She was.”

“What happened to her?”

This was a difficult question to answer. While he hadn’t actually lied to Luke about the fate of his father, he certainly hadn’t been directly truthful with him either; choosing instead to treat Anakin and Vader as two separate people rather than one. Which, as far as Master Kenobi saw it, with the absolute truth – if an omission of fact. Padmé though . . .

“Your mother was an important person, Luke. She was once the queen of her planet, then a prominent Republic senator. Not many know this, but she was also a part of the original group that became the leadership of the Rebellion. Hers was an influential and well-respected voice. Unfortunately, that also made her a threat.”

Luke, sighed sadly, “Vader. He killed her too. He killed both my parents.”

Obi-Wan nodded. That was true, from a certain point of view. Vader – that personification of the Dark Side which had always lived within Anakin, long suppressed by his intense goodness – was ultimately to blame for the deaths. “Your mother tried to save your father from him,” he answered with a heavy heart, “Ultimately, though, she was too late. And the darkness took them both.”

The young man sighed and looked down at the hands in his lap. The history of the Skywalker family was a heartbreaking one, indeed. And while Luke’s face betrayed nothing, the Jedi could sense the many emotions beginning to churn inside him – sadness at hearing the news, pity for those who endured it, sympathy for the loss and, ultimately, guilt. Guilt at feeling so little connection to the mother he’d never been privileged to know.

A curious thing though, that connection between mother and child. Many times over the last twenty years, watching Padmé’s son grow from afar, he’d wondered how much of her feelings and pain at the time of her passing had been sensed by the unborn children within her womb. There was no definitive answer to that question, one could not be sure. Such a notion may seem ridiculous to those not familiar with the Force and its power, but it was a widely-held theory among the Order – when there was an Order.

And judging by the deep feelings quietly radiating from the young man now, perhaps it was possible in this case. Was Luke unconsciously remembering what his mother had felt? Or was it simply Luke’s kind heart that allowed him to empathize with her? If it was the former, if Luke was that connected with the Force even before his birth, then Palpatine should have cause for concern. ‘And I wonder if the same is true of young Leia.’ But these were questions that were near-impossible to answer – musings for another time.

The Jedi closed his eyes, summoning his power and pushing it forward; letting what calm and comfort he could muster roll gently over the young man. Based on the way Luke’s knitted brow unraveled and his breathing began to ease, it seemed to help, at least a little. Stories like this could not be easy to hear, no doubt almost as difficult as they were to tell.

“Ben?” he said at last, “If Vader killed them – killed her . . .”

“How did she give birth to you?” Obi-Wan finished, exhaling against the still-fresh memories trying to play again in his mind. Her screams. Her tears and pain. Her broken spirit. Her broken heart . . . And his. “After your father was killed, Padmé was attacked. She was . . . badly hurt. But I was able to get her to somewhere safe. To have you. And when you were born, she was happy. After the loss of everything – the Republic, your father, everything – she looked at you, and there was pure joy. Pure love.”

Obi-Wan felt the tears begin to sting at his eyes and willed them not to fall. “I held you to her. So she could see you. She smiled, touched your face, and named you. Then she was gone.”

In his mind he saw her lovely face slacken and fall. Her eyes closed, one last tear pooling in the corner then slipping across the bridge of her nose. A newborn – little Leia – cried, feeling her mother’s life force fade.

As the memory dissolved, the face of Padmé’s son filled his vision. Though physically the boy was so much his father – shaggy, sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes – it was what lay behind those eyes, deeper, that was all his mother. That quiet strength and understanding, her selfless concern.

That’s how he looked at the Jedi now. “You cared about her,” Luke said simply. Not a question or an accusation, but a statement of fact.

“We knew one another for many years. When I was but an apprentice Jedi,” Obi-Wan answered, “She was . . . a dear friend. And she did not deserve her fate.”

“I wish I could have known her.”

The Jedi nodded, “She would have been proud of you, Luke.”

The young man smiled at that. “Thanks, Ben. And thanks for telling me about her.”

“I was honored to do so,” he said with complete sincerity. “Now, if your mind has been cleared of questions for the moment, perhaps you should try again to rest.”

He scoffed. “I can try, but I don’t think I could now.”

“Hmm,” the older man considered, “What about some conditioning exercises then – the kind reserved for younger Jedi-in-training? You could put your nervous energy into something more productive than fighting sleep.”

Luke stood, helping Obi-Wan to his feet next with a supportive, outstretched hand. “Okay,” he said excitedly, “What do I need to do?”

“You’ll first need your father’s lightsaber. And I’ll need the satchel I brought with me. Go and fetch those and we’ll get started.”

The older man noted the renewed spring in Luke’s step as he trotted down the ship’s corridor, remembering fondly the youthful exuberance with which Anakin approached his own training so many years ago. But there would be no mistakes this time. He would not fail another apprentice. And he would not fail her.

A familiar presence entered the room at Obi-Wan’s side. He could sense the smile playing upon the man’s face and in his voice as he heard it in his mind.

She’s often in your thoughts, Padawan.

It’s been a long time since you called me that.

Council Master or not, you’ll always be my Padawan . . . And you’re avoiding the comment.

Ben felt a squeeze upon his heart.

I think of her more than I thought I would, Master. And I miss her more than I should.

The Jedi Order is no more, Obi-Wan. You break no vow by caring.

Anakin cared. He loved. And it destroyed everything we fought to protect.

It was not his love which doomed the galaxy, Padawan. It was his fear of loss – of losing her and of losing control. You know this.

Yes Master.

Do not be afraid, Obi-Wan.

I’m not. The galaxy will return to the light. And I feel I will meet it soon myself. I just hope there’s time to help the boy.

There will be. And when your time comes, both Padmé and I will be waiting to greet you.

The presence of his former master faded, leaving Ben to stare once again at the darkness beyond the window. But, as he heard the eager footfalls running back to meet him, he found his mood vastly shifted. Where once there was old pain, old wounds of the past, there was now new hope.