fandomtownies | The park [Friday afternoon]

Rory had heard a little about what had been going on on the island.

Well, okay. She'd heard that Anakin's first wife was visiting. The dead one. The dead mother of Rory's stepchildren, who were older than Rory herself in one of the timelines to choose from.

So, you know. Typical Skywalker fun.

But Rory herself, as much as she wanted to hide at home and not meet Padmé, was drawn to the island. She took Juliet with her, and got an iced coffee from the Perk before settling in the park. As much as she wanted to meet the first Mrs. Skywalker -- the one who had been married to Anakin, since she'd known an unmarried Padmé before -- her nerves kept her stalling a bit. She fiddled with Juliet's shade on her stroller, she checked her text messages, she even wrote an email to her mother on her phone.

Because honestly, Rory didn't even know where to look. But she didn't want to say she hadn't tried at all, either.

[yeah, if you didn't guess, Rory's going to run into someone. But it's open for anyone who wants to run into Rory and the baby, or Padmé!]

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Rory bit her lower lip, until she couldn't stand not asking. "Is your name Padmé?" she asked softly. Maybe it was that girl who was from England!

She knew it wasn't. Please. She had eyes. No one else dressed that weirdly.

Padmé's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Are you Jaina?" she asked before the "and the baby" part of the scene kicked in. She smiled a little sadly. "No, you aren't, are you?"

"No, but I know her," Rory said carefully, giving her a small smile. "You'll know Jaina when you see her. She looks like you."

Padmé peered more closely at the baby in front of her, recognizing the blonde curls for what they were. Her heart turned over in her chest. "This is Ani's little girl?" she murmured softly.

It seemed to be an easier question than defining this other woman's role in her husband's life.

And Rory sort of hated hearing 'Ani,' but she nodded. "My name's Rory," she offered, since Padmé seemed to be figuring things out fairly well. "Juliet looks just like him, doesn't she?"

And not hugely like Rory, aside from the eyes, which was hopefully a comfort.

"She has your eyes," Padmé said after a moment. "You're Rory...Gilmore?" Remembering names was a point of pride with her. "Did you go to school here? Ani mentioned you a few times."

Staking a claim was pointless and petty, Padmé knew, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

"Gilmore is my maiden name," Rory corrected gently. "But yeah, I went to school here. I was a year behind Anakin."

Younger, pretty, taller...Padmé wasn't used to comparing herself to other women, and she nipped this tendency in the bud, pulling from decades of training to be gracious.

"Does he make you happy?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.

Rory wanted to say something to make Padmé understand -- something that wouldn't seem like she was gloating, or self-congratulatory. Because she hadn't won. There had never been a competition. They had existed for Anakin in different times, in different galaxies.

"Yes," she said after a moment, with a small smile. "But he's never replaced you. And he doesn't want to. And I never could fill your shoes."

Pause.

"My hair isn't as beautiful, for one thing," she added lightly, smiling.

Padmé smiled back, recognizing the gesture for what it was. "And your eyes are really just beautiful," she replied. "I'm quite jealous."

She searched for common ground that wasn't going to be overly painful to hear about. "Do you know my children?"

"I do," Rory admitted. "Luke better than Leia, actually, but I know both of them. They're both wonderful."

Padmé smiled proudly. "I haven't seen Luke yet," she admitted, "though I imagine he's no longer a bawling infant."

"He can act that way sometimes," Rory said affectionately. "He looks like Anakin. Gets sulky the same way, too."

"Oh, I'm sorry that got passed down," Padmé said merrily. "I'd hoped my level-headedness would be dominant."

"It seems like it is in Leia," Rory said thoughtfully. "Luke's much more patient than his father, too."

"There are spider-monkeys on caf with more patience than Anakin," Padmé said.

"So. I have to ask," Rory said, laughing at that. "Who had more hair products -- you or him? Because your hair is beautiful -- and Leia's style is inspired by yours, has to be -- but, you know, I've met Anakin...."

"I like you," Padmé admitted between giggles. "He said that it was because he was trying to make up for all of the room I took in the closets."

"He has like two outfits," Rory commented, arching an eyebrow.

"And a poncho," Padmé said with a little grin. "Never let him pick out an outfit for undercover work. He has terrible taste."

"Poncho?" Rory asked, snorting. "Really? Oh, Anakin."

"It was awful," Padmé said. "We were supposed to be refugees, but honestly."

"You could be refugees with decent taste," Rory agreed. "I mean, were you in a poncho?"

Well, she had been wearing a slightly questionable headdress, but that was hardly the point.

"Of course not," she said.

"No one should let him shop alone," Rory decided.

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