Chapter 5, To Love and to Cherish




Senator Amidala’s Chambers, Ambassadorial District


The view from underneath the ledge of Padmé’s window was fantastic, a sheer drop hundreds of metres from the ground level of 500 Republica. Which meant some further thousands of metres from the actual planet surface. As Anakin waited for the small commotion in Padmé’s room to desist, he absent mindedly swatted away the security droids that came buzzing in his direction while deeply considering testing his theory of Force-empowered flight. Once, he had argued with Obi-Wan that Jedi could fly; all they needed was faith and nerve. Perhaps…

“Psst… Anakin! Anakin!”

Perhaps another time.

“Anakin!”

“A little louder Padmé and I’m sure Dormé will come zooming back with her blaster.”

Padmé giggled as her husband, with one swing, propelled himself from beneath her window and into her room.

He came to stand before her and she regarded his long, lean frame hungrily. He regarded her petite, curvaceous, skimpy night-shift clad frame with equal lust.

“You. Me. Bed,” she declared. Then she flew into his arms.

The embrace shifted into a deep kiss, then an even deeper one, and her feet left the ground as, ever the obedient husband, Anakin made their cojoined way to the moon-bathed bed.

Later on, Padmé rested happily on what she now regarded as her side of the bed, playing with her husband’s hair. Anakin’s head lay against her stomach, his eyes were half-closed, and a satisfied grin smirked on his face. Every now and then, he’d raise his chin and his teeth would nip the smooth expanse of flesh so seductively within reach.

“I thought they’d never leave,” she moaned, remembering the rude interruption of her handmaiden and security detail. Seconds after Anakin's dramatic exit, the security detail had burst into her chambers without invitation. The formerly dim room blazed with light as the sensor lamps came on, and the yellow glow glinted off the sleek metal blasters. It had taken a full hour to persuade Typho that Padmé’s blaster had only malfunctioned and that there was really no need for them to check the periphery. She still hadn’t quite decided how she would explain everything to Dormé.

“They’d never have come if you hadn’t shot at me,” he grumbled, his voice causing tiny tremors beneath her skin.

Padmé coloured. “Well, I didn’t know it was you, did I? What do you suggest I do next time a strange man comes creeping through my win-Ow!” For at her words, his teeth had bitten down especially hard.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding in the least.

“’tis okay,” she said softly, weaving her fingers through the rough strands. Casually, she tightened her fist, slowly pulling his hair until he caught on and yelped.

“Yes, dear Husband?’’ she asked innocently, not loosening her grip in the least.

He rolled his eyes, an effect that was completely wasted on her as his face was still resting contentedly against her. He toyed with the idea of pacifying her by letting her know how sexy he had found her misguided assassination attempt; but at that moment, her body shifted, bringing all that skin even closer to him and he was … distracted.

Soon enough, their caresses became gentler, his every breath a kiss, her hands now running gently through his hair, memorizing the feel of the strands against her fingers, the way the night lights glinted against them, the long dark curve of his brow, the sweet repose of his chin… She sought out the little details greedily, desperately, knowing that she would soon be returning to them for comfort.

He sighed.

“What is it?” Padmé whispered, the words forcing themselves out of the lump in her throat.

He didn’t reply with words, just turned their bodies around until she was in his, cradled against the world. She clutched him desperately. The scent of oshii filled her nostrils. The memory of loneliness was waiting at the window.

“I don’t want the morning to c-” she began and Anakin shushed her.

“Not yet,” he said and she knew he was speaking about goodbyes. “Not yet, please.”

She closed her eyes tightly against his chest, against the tears that still slipped through.

TBC

leia_naberrie posted:

---

Padmé gasped again, and the barrage of missiles stopped. He felt strangely bereft. Apparently, near-assassination-by-wife scenarios were disturbingly sexy.

---

Chapter 6, According to Holy Ordinance



Master Obi-Wan's Quarters, the Jedi Temple

Anakin arrived at the Temple well before the time for their departure. He managed to avoid as much contact as possible. His memory of Padmé was a bubble of happiness in his soul, rimmed with resentment at the Order at large. His punctuality had cost him the sight of Padmé's eyes as she woke up in his arms.

Obi-Wan's disapproving gaze was a mockery of a substitute. There was no escaping the Jedi Master. Without preamble, he launched his attack the moment Anakin stepped into their shared chambers.

"Where were you last night, Padawan?"

Anakin felt the bubble tremble.

"I went for a walk, to clear my head." The Padawan's clear blue eyes looked everywhere but into his Master's gaze.

"A very long walk."

"My head needed a lot of clearing," Anakin said coolly.

"You were upset? And why, my young apprentice?"

This time, Anakin did look at Obi-Wan and his eyes were furious. "You've so soon forgotten how you humiliated me in front of the Chancellor, then Master Yoda yesterday?"

Obi-Wan started in surprise. "You're still brooding about that?"

"Forgive me, Master. I am to blame for letting my feelings get in the way of your reprimands."

"I won't take that sarcastic tone of voice from you, my very young Padawan," Obi-Wan snapped.

Anakin bowed his head, his angry glare now directed to the floor. "Sorry, Master," he said automatically and insincerely.

In front of him, Obi-Wan was inhaling sharply and Anakin mentally steeled himself for the long lecture that was about to follow. As was his usual practice, he raised his shields and deliberately targeted his mind towards a distraction. In the past, it would be a speeder or droid he was tinkling on. Now the image that rose in his mind was a great deal more organic.

Padmé.

Beautiful Padmé.

Sweet, gentle Padmé.

Fierce, fearsome Padmé.

The memory of his wife filled his senses. Padmé in her demure white night-cloth, her hair in two chaste plaits down her back, a steely glint in her eye and a firing blaster in her hand. The fact that the blaster had been trained on him at that time made it all the more appealing.

Padmé's husband sighed deeply and failed to notice that Master Obi-Wan had stopped speaking.

"Padawan!"

Startled out of his reverie, Anakin looked into his Master's frustrated gaze and said on cue, "I promise to do better, Master."

And he meant it. Not for Obi-Wan as it had been in the past - Anakin was fast realizing that nothing he could do might ever please his Master - and not, he thought sadly, for his Mother. Not any longer.

For Padmé. In her eyes, he saw himself as she saw him - her beloved. The bubble ballooned within him and he felt as light as air. He was flying. Soaring.

He would be a hero for Padmé.

He didn’t hear his Master's sad sigh nor did he see the worried frown on Obi-Wan's face as he led the way to the Temple hangar.

~~~~

When Padmé woke, he was gone. The space where he had been was so cold that the whole night might well have just been a wonderful, precious but impossible dream.

Her heart burst into tears.

There was a discreet knock on the door.

"Come in, Dormé," Padmé said with almost-perfect composure. If her voice quavered a little, she chose not to dwell on it.

Nor did she dwell on the quick glance Dormé gave to the bed before she turning a respectful gaze to her mistress. "Good day Milady. We need to revise your schedule. Senator Organa's office called to cancel his appointment this morning. I took the liberty of contacting Senator Ask's office for an earlier hour…"

Padmé listened patiently to the timetable, voicing agreements and objections where necessary, and placing demands as they arose. And if on occasion, a sad gaze filled her eyes, or a deep blush rose in her cheeks or a wicked smile graced her lips, then certainly, neither she nor her handmaiden commented on it.