[Padmé's breath leaves her in a sobbing sort of gasp, her hands flying up to cover her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Because as joyous and wonderful as the confirmation is, there's also an intense, overwhelming grief. Because Luke doesn't know her -- not her name, not her face.
She steps forward, hands shaking. Something had to have happened to her, some illness or accident. Only death could've kept her from her child, that she knows.]
He's. My husband. [Padmé exhales, shuddering. Even if she'd died, there was no way Anakin wouldn't have told their son about her, kept her alive that way. So something must have happened to him too.] How...did we...are you...?
no subject
She steps forward, hands shaking. Something had to have happened to her, some illness or accident. Only death could've kept her from her child, that she knows.]
He's. My husband. [Padmé exhales, shuddering. Even if she'd died, there was no way Anakin wouldn't have told their son about her, kept her alive that way. So something must have happened to him too.] How...did we...are you...?