If you had asked Padmé one year ago how she'd imaged her life in a year this...wouldn't have been it. Sure, her babies were here, and she was happy for that, they were here and healthy and strong. And happy, she thought, as much as you could tell with newborns anyway. But on the run, falsely claimed to be dead, most likely to never see her mother, father, sister, or any of her family again. Must less her husband.

On the run, with her husband's best friend. It fit, in a way, the two people who loved him most, hiding out together, to raise his children together. And as she looked over the small bassinet were they slept, it was hard to not feel peace. Even if it was inside an old, almost forgotten bunker from the Clone Wars. Satisfied her children were safely asleep, Padmé left the room quietly, looking for Obi-Wan.