Where is he?

She had long lost count of how many times she had asked herself that question. Just thinking about it twisted her stomach.

Why hasn't he contacted me?

No answer for that one either. At least none that she wanted to hear. Couldn't he let her know he was all right? He had to know how worried she was. But there was nothing.

She knew how he was when something upset him. How frightened and angry and defensive he could become. Not necessarily with her, or any one in particular. Sometimes, despite the Jedi control he had learned, his emotions would simply escape him. And to have to face something like this…

Amidala sighed and rested her forehead against the window. She had been standing there for hours, watching the hangar bay for any sign that he had arrived. None appeared.

It had been three days since Obi-Wan had contacted her, hoping desperately that Anakin was there. It had been five days since Shmi died. No one had seen or heard from Anakin during that time.

Amidala felt her heart ache as she tried to imagine how Anakin must have felt…watching his mother die…not being able to save her…Amidala shuddered. He had waited so long to go back for her, only to have this happen the day he arrived. The day he arrived! What an unspeakable nightmare.

After it happened, Anakin simply disappeared. He hid himself, both physically and mentally, from Obi-Wan, and lost himself in the utter confusion of the scene in Mos Espa. Obi-Wan scoured every part the settlement and found nothing. Finally, he contacted Amidala, on the chance that Anakin might already be on Naboo, or might have at least spoken with her. He hadn't.

So, now there was nothing for her to do but stand by her window and wait.

Amidala had wanted to go with him to find his mother, but the unrest and violence that had compelled him to leave for Tatooine also forced her to remain on Naboo. Chaos seemed to be sweeping the Republic from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim. She couldn't simply leave on what might have been a lengthy trip in the midst of all this confusion. Her people needed her here.

Still, she had to admit to herself that she would be very hard-pressed not to go to him now if he were to contact her. She absent-mindedly fingered the japor snippet around her neck. If she could just find him, make sure that he was fine, and bring him right back here, she wouldn't have to be gone for much longer than a day or two. Sabé could certainly handle things for that short a time.

But what if he isn't fine? What then?

Amidala shook her head and returned her attention to the hangar. He would show up. And he'd be fine. They could go from there.

*********

Amidala curled herself up in the corner of the chair, pulling her blanket up to ward off a sudden chill. She yawned contentedly.

Then her eyes snapped open, and she sat straight up in the chair.

When did I fall asleep? she wondered.

After attending many hours of meetings and conferences, Amidala had rushed back to her room, anxious to check her holo-messsages. Of course, she had told Sabé to pass her a note during the meetings if one came in from Anakin or Obi-Wan, so she had no real reason to expect anything to be there. But she had hoped so anyway.

No messages. No off-world arrivals in the Palace hangar, or in any hangar, as she was now checking them all.

So, she had retaken her position by the window, this time seated in a chair, and continued to wait.

Amidala stretched a little. Clearly, several hours had passed. The sun was setting; her room was quickly darkening. I better check the messages again, she told herself.

As Amidala moved to get up from the chair, she glanced up at the window. And froze.

Anakin stared back at her through the reflection.

Before she even turned around to face him, she could tell how terribly wrong things were. He didn't look as though he had been physically harmed, thank the Maker. But the way he was standing – slightly hunched over, as though he was weighed down – spoke volumes through the wavy image in the glass.

Amidala stood slowly, and turned to face him. He remained in the doorway, without moving or speaking. Amidala could feel her heart hammering against her ribs. She was absolutely thrilled that he was finally here, and was safe; but she was also worried for him, worried to find out exactly how emotionally scarred he might be.

She moved toward him. "Ani?" No response. "I'm so glad you decided to come here…I've been so worried." His face was contorted; his hands were curled into fists by his side. He wouldn't look her in the eye. "Anakin, I can't tell you how sorry I am about your mother –"

His head jerked up; his eyes flashed. Amidala felt heartache rip through her so painfully that it almost took her breath away. His pain. And guilt…and horror.

Then it was gone. He was trying to hide it from her; trying to hold himself together.

Amidala closed the distance between them, and gently took one of his hands. He allowed her to lead him into the room, and walked, zombie-like, over to the chair.

Amidala knelt in front of him. "You don't have to talk now if you don't want to," she whispered, kissing his hand. "I'm so glad you're safe."

He still struggled against himself. Amidala knew he was afraid to tell her what happened, to stop holding back. She gave him a small smile and said simply, "I'll understand, Anakin."

He still tensed as if he was about to stand, and Amidala placed her hands on his arms to stop him.

Very slowly, his hands relaxed from their fists, and he sat back a bit. Amidala sighed in relief and closed her eyes.

Before she could open them, she felt him slide out of the chair, kneel before her, and pull her into a crushing embrace. He buried his face in her neck; she felt his tears and heard him sobbing.

He held her so tightly that she could barely get her arms around him to hug him back. She stroked his hair, and kissed his temple, waiting for the torrent to end. For now, there wasn't anything that needed to be said.

**********

Anakin woke up with his arms around his sleeping angel. He didn't move too much for fear of waking her. She had spent several sleepless nights with him these past few days – she deserved whatever rest she could get.

For his part, Anakin was exhausted physically, emotionally, mentally – in every way possible. And he still had trouble sleeping. Amidala distracted him from the demons that plagued his waking thoughts, but she couldn't stop the nightmares that haunted him whenever he shut his eyes. So, he just lay there, watching her. Admiring her.

She was so much stronger than he was. She would never fall apart the way he had. He wished he could be that way – to feel things deeply, yet be fully self-possessed at the same time.

But he was neither of those things. He was trained not to let his emotions become intense; yet when they did, he was unable to control them as others would like.

That's why he had disappeared; the last thing Anakin wanted was to face anyone. He knew that Amidala and Obi-Wan had imagined him causing all sorts of trouble after he left Tatooine. But he had stayed on his ship, coasting aimlessly through the Outer Rim. He wasn't exactly sure how he arrived outside of Naboo's system.

Or outside the door to her room for that matter. Thank the Force that he had somehow had the sense to come to her. She had withstood everything he threw at her – every story, every tear, every pain. Her steadfastness in the face of his complete breakdown emboldened him. She had no doubt that he would get through this; eventually, he started to believe that too.

He wasn't fooling himself – he knew that he wasn't fully recovered by any stretch of the imagination. He had left Tatooine an angry, fearful, failure; and he still found that description somewhat accurate. But he had turned a corner after arriving here. At least he knew that things could get better…

He doubted that the Council would care about his increasingly optimistic point of view though. He sighed heavily at the thought of standing in that circle, and facing them all again. Hearing their disapproval, congratulating themselves on their prescience about his feelings toward his mother. He didn't think he could stand it.

At least Amidala and Obi-Wan knew that he felt badly for what he had done. Not that they weren't mad. Obi-Wan still couldn't quite believe that Anakin had left him on Tatooine; and now His Master was facing his own discipline from the Council for not informing them immediately of what happened. And Amidala had made it abundantly clear that she did not appreciate his little disappearing act.

Some of what they had said stung him deeply. But he knew that they were mourning with him; at least they hadn't lost sight of the fact that his mother was gone.

Amidala stirred and look at him sleepily. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he replied.

She turned on her side, not ready to wake up yet. She closed her eyes and yawned. "Are you all right?"

He held her tightly in his arms. "I'm fine, go back to sleep." She seemed well on her way already.

Still, she managed a muffled question. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking that we should get married."

She smiled and drifted off muttering, "We are getting married, Ani."

Anakin let her go back to sleep. He would correct her later. He meant they should get married now. Not in a year – or more – when he was knighted. He could wait for her to find time to escape her duties, but that was it. He had put off his personal life for the last ten years…he couldn't conceive of a reason to wait a minute longer to be with her.

Anakin sighed and kissed Amidala again.

He didn't want to leave the Order. Not at all. He still saw the dream of him as a Jedi; he still wanted it badly. But the price was now too high. He couldn't pay that much again. He wouldn't.