First up for tonight's procrastination. A look into the complete rewrite I'm considering for the Revised Edition of Wells of Silence. Still going back and forth on whether I want to do a total replacement of the chapter, or just revise that original text, but I know better by now. I better write that shit down while the ideas are flowing.
Upon returning to his apartment, he spared just enough time to inform his security that he was staying in that night, and most of them could go home. Then he was through the door. Anakin wouldn’t arrive until after dark, that would give him just enough time to shower and begin dinner preparations.
He stopped short after nearly bowling over his protocol droid. C-3PO always made sure to greet Padme upon his arrival home, but he was rarely waiting just inside the door.
“Welcome home, Master Padme, may I take your coat?”
“Threepio… what’s going on?” Padme shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over. “Has… did Anakin call?”
“Mistress Ani is already here. She arrived this afternoon.”
“What? When?” Padme looked into the sitting room, expecting to see his wife lounging on the sofa, but she was absent.
“Around midday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She said it was not necessary.”
Padme peeked into the kitchen. No Anakin. “Where is she?”
“In the bedroom.”
Oh. A grin pulled at Padme’s lips. And he’d thought he was feeling impatient. “Thank you, Threepio, you can power down for the evening and we’ll get you if we need anything.”
The droid said something, but Padme was not listening. He made a beeline for the bedroom. The door was closed, and he didn’t hear anything inside. He thought about knocking, but instead let himself in. Maybe, for once, he could surprise Anakin.
The door opened silently and he fully expected to find his wife waiting on the bed in some deeply enticing state of undress. Maybe with the mood set with floating glow globes, or candles and flower petals. Instead the room was quite dim with the blinds drawn, and Anakin was fast asleep fully dressed on the bed.
3PO’s last words caught up to Padme. “Mistress Anakin was not feeling well.”
“Oh, Ani…” Padme tiptoed over to the bedside and looked down at his sleeping wife with a tender smile. She was on his side of the bed, face nestled into his pillows. C-3PO’s patented migraine service was sitting untouched on the bedside table – the eye mask was room temperature – so she much have been down all afternoon.
Padme crouched down to wake his wife with a kiss, but paused and studied her. Catching Anakin asleep was a rare treat for her husband. There was a vulnerable intimacy to this simple fact of married life they so rarely shared. He frowned slightly at her. Even in sleep, Anakin looked troubled. Her face was pinched and her arms were up around her head and face like a shield – a reflex, perhaps honed from sleeping in war zones? When they slept together, her arms were usually around him. He’d never seen her sleep alone.
He reached out to tenderly brush a lock of hair from her face. “Ani.”
Her eye opened, a fierce glare for whoever dared to wake her. It only lasted as long as it took for her to register her husband. Her gaze softened, she smiled sweetly up at him, and whispered a sleep-rasped, “Hello.”
