He looked across the way to Boba.

That was not a place he wanted to be at this time. Not at all.

Padme awoke suddenly, her senses immediately tuning in to her surroundings. Something was wrong, she knew instinctively, and she jumped up, scrambling about out of fear that another of those centipede creatures was upon her. But her room was quiet, with nothing out of place. Something had awakened her, but not something in here. "No!" came a cry from the adjoining bedroom, where Anakin was sleeping. "No! Mom! No, don't!"

Padme slipped out of bed and ran to the door, not even bothering to grab a robe, not even caring or noticing that she was wearing a revealing silken shift. At the door, she paused and listened. Hearing cries from within, followed by more jumbled yelling, she realized that there was no immediate danger, that this was another of Anakin's nightmares, like the one that had gripped him on the shuttle ride to Naboo. She opened the door and looked in on him.

He was thrashing about on the bed, yelling "Mom!" repeatedly. Unsure, Padm started in.

But then Anakin calmed and rolled back over, the dream, the vision, apparently past.

Then Padme did become aware of her revealing dress. She moved back through the door, shutting it gently, then waited for a long while. When she heard no further screaming or tossing, she went back to her bed.

She lay awake in the dark for a long, long while, thinking of Anakin, thinking that she wanted to be in there beside him, holding him, helping him through his troubled dreams. She tried to dismiss the notion-they had already covered this dangerous ground and had come to an understanding of what must be. And that agreement did not include her climbing into bed beside Anakin.

The next morning, she found him on the east balcony of the lodge, overlooking the lake and the budding sunrise. He was standing by the balustrade, so deep in thought that he did not notice her approach. She moved up slowly, not wanting to disturb him, for as she neared, she realized that he was doing more than thinking here, that he was actually deep in meditation. Recognizing this as a private time for Anakin, she turned and started away, as quietly as she could.

"Don't go," Anakin said to her.

"I don't want to disturb you," she told him, surprised.

"Your presence is soothing."

Padme considered those words for a bit, taking pleasure in hearing them, then scolding herself for taking that pleasure. But still, as she stood there looking upon him, his face now serene, she couldn't deny the attraction. He seemed to her like a young hero, a budding Jedi-and she had no doubt that he would be among the greatest that great Order had ever known. And at the same time, he seemed to her to be the same little kid she had known during the war with the Trade Federation, inquisitive and impetuous, aggravating and charming all at once.

"You had a nightmare again last night," she said quietly, when Anakin at last opened his blue eyes.

"Jedi don't have nightmares," came the defiant reply. "I heard you," Padm was quick to answer. Anakin turned to regard her. There was no compromise in her expression-she knew perfectly well that his claim was ludicrous, and she let him know that she knew it.

"I saw my mother," he admitted, lowering his gaze. "I saw her as clearly as I see you now. She is suffering, Padme. They're killing her! She is in pain!"

"Who?" Padme asked, moving toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder. When she looked at him more closely, she noted a determination so solid that it took her by surprise.

"I know I'm disobeying my mandate to protect you," Anakin tried to explain.

"I know I will be punished and possibly thrown out of the Jedi Order, but I have to go." "Go?"

"I have to help her! I'm sorry, Padme," he said. She saw from his expression that he meant it, that leaving her was the last thing he ever wanted to do. "I don't have a choice."

"Of course you don't. Not if your mother is in trouble."

Anakin gave her an appreciative nod.

"I'll go with you," she decided.

Anakin's eyes widened. He started to reply, ready to argue, but Padme's smile held his words in check.

"That way, you can continue to protect me," she reasoned.

Somehow she made it sound perfectly logical. "And you won't be disobeying your mandate."

"I don't think this is what the Jedi Council had in mind. I fear that I'm walking into danger, and to take you with me-"

"Walking into danger," Padme echoed, and she laughed aloud. "A place I've never been before."

Anakin stared at her, hardly believing what he was hearing. He couldn't resist, though, and his smile, too, began to widen. For some reason he did not quite understand, the Padawan found a good measure of justification in his abandoning the letter of his orders now that Padme was in on, and agreeing with, the plan.

Neither Padme nor Anakin could miss the stark contrast when they took her sleek starship out of hyperspace and saw the brown planet of Tatooine looming before them. How different it was from Naboo, a place of green grasses and deep blue water, with cloud patterns swirling all across it. Tatooine was just a ball of brown hanging in space, as barren as Naboo was alive.

"Home again, home again, to go to rest," Anakin recited, a common children's rhyme.

"By hearth and heart, house and nest," Padme added. Anakin looked over at her, pleasantly surprised. "You know it?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"I don't know," Anakin said. "I mean, I wasn't sure if anyone else… I thought it was a rhyme my mother made up for me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Padme said. "Maybe she did-maybe hers was different than the one my mother used to tell me." Anakin shook his head doubtfully, but he wasn't bothered by the possibility. In a strange way, he was glad that Padme knew the rhyme, glad that it was a common gift from mothers to their children.

And glad, especially, that he and Padme had yet another thing in common. "They haven't signaled any coordinates yet," she noted.

"They probably won't, unless we ask," Anakin replied. "Things aren't very strict here, usually. Just find a place and park it, then hope no one steals it while you go about your business."

"As lovely as I remember it."

Anakin looked at her and nodded. How different things were now than that decade before when Padme had been forced to land on Tatooine with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon in order to effect repairs on their ship. He tried to manage a smile, but the edge of his nervousness kept it from appearing genuine. Too many disturbing thoughts assaulted him. Was his mother all right? Was his dream a premonition of what was to come, or a replay of something that had already happened?