[ both his questions have the same answer. padmé could almost laugh. she doesn't. she straightens, regarding him with the solemnity he deserves. inside, she cracks a little further along old fractures.

yet there's a part of her that is proud. he's piecing it together himself. in a different life, she would have fallen upon a heuristic answer as a means of engaging his thinking. but this is not a student or a colleague she means to guide to the correct decision. this is her son. he deserves honesty from the woman who helped shape the lie of his birth. ]

You were a baby when I first saw you, [ she starts quietly. ] I'd dreamt of a boy, and there you were. [ the corners of her mouth lift in a beautiful, heartbreaking smile. ] Exactly as I had dreamed.

[ it was anakin that had dreamt of leia, been so sure their child would be a fierce, headstrong girl. they had both been right. she looks down to hands and arms empty. her fingers lace together in an attempt to keep them steady. ]

But I couldn't keep you. Vader — [ her lips press into a thin, trembling line. padmé breathes in through her nose. ] He was scouring the galaxy for me. I asked Obi-Wan to take you to Tatooine. I knew you would be safe with your aunt and uncle. Safer than with me — [ her voice breaks. the tears she had managed to hold until then carve rivulets of salt down her cheeks — ] who had to run and hide. I knew you would be loved by them.

[ her vision swims and blurs, but her eyes remain on luke. something a lot like hope peeks through her staggering loss. she finishes with the answer she already gave, leaving it plain and unadorned before him. ]

I'm your mother.