A/N: Happy Valentine's day! I already posted a smutty AU a few hours ago so I thought I'd balance it out with post Attack of the Clones Anidala fluff. I hope you like it. Also, big thanks to Lingojam for their English to Huttese translator.
Once, some time ago, if you'd asked Senator Padme Amidala what would be a perfect moment for her, she might have described laying beneath the sun on the sand of Naboo, or being home, surrounded by her family again… Or perhaps even just a night with no bills to frantically type up, no speeches to rehearse or galactic conflict to worry about. Now, though she may give the same answers aloud, within her head, to Padme Skywalker, the perfect moment is something entirely different. She's living it now, resting on her knees on the silken sheets of her bed, arms around her new husband while her fingers work quickly to re-braid the long hair used to signify his rank within the Jedi Order… He'd come home while she was bathing, and rather than wait for her to get out to greet him, he'd just climbed in, fully clothed while she squealed and giggled beneath him, water spilling out over the edge of the bath and creating a terrible mess that she'll worry about later.
She'd watched him attempt to put the braid back to rights and smiled as he cursed and fumbled, accidently leaving stray hairs out until she'd kneeled behind him and taken over. Now he sits on the edge of the bed, clad in nothing but black sleep trousers while his soaked clothes dry as she easily entwines the soft hair. Her own hair is loose and damp, wetting the back of her nightgown but she doesn't care. After a few moments they fall into a quickly growing habit of theirs. Since their wedding she's sworn to learn his mother tongue, Huttese so he can speak to her in the language he used most often as a child and she can understand him as he does so. After everything that happened on Tattooine, Padme wants to reach out to him from time to time this way, offer a connection to his home despite how much he hates the desert planet, and of course to his mother… Is it not her duty as his wife to make this apartment feel like home for him? She's trying… She's truly trying. While their attempts at recreating recipes his mother once cooked well… Failed miserably. However languages, she's found are far easier to master. And she thinks he'll be content if she never steps foot in the kitchen again.
"…Mee warned him Tah stay Bata if he knows what's good Che him." Anakin continues his story in Huttese as per her request but she's no expert in the language quite yet and the words take a moment or two to make sense in her mind. I… warned him to stay back… If he knows what's good for him, yes! Smiling, and rolling her eyes, Padme moves closer as she braids lower, fingers completing the task without any thought on her part. "Doe moment Doe lightsaber came Nenoleeya he backed Ovv easily enough." He waits, patient as ever for the words to convert in her mind before continuing on. Teeth sink into her lip as she concentrates, the words are right there, she knows them. The moment the lightsaber came… Out he backed off easily enough… Gods Ani, she can already imagine him threatening the Separatist General, fighting back a smile as the coward stumbled away.
"So yet Andoba victory under your belt husband?" She flirts, having prepared the words a few seconds in advance. This language doesn't come easily for her, but with practice she's getting better. And he certainly seems to enjoy conversing with her like this. He turns a little, looking at her over his shoulder and grins… That smile only means one thing, she's made a mistake and he's amused about it. Damn, she thought she had that one perfected.
"You mean, another victory under my belt?" He chuckles, and she sighs, reaching for one of the small blue elastics he uses to keep the braid in place. Since he's looking at her, she nods and concentrates on tying his hair back to the way it was, making sure to keep it tight.
"Then not your," he corrects, "Do".
"Do…" She repeats imitating his pronunciation slowly. Yes, now that she thinks about it that does sound rather familiar… At last the braid is done and she releases his hair in favour of sliding her fingers along his broad back, enjoying the feel of him beneath her skin. There are one or two new scars, nothing major but she doesn't like them. It means he's suffered, and he's suffered uselessly in this pointless war. "So yet Andoba victory under Do belt?" She tries again, as her fingers skim his shoulders, watching the goosebumps rise where she touches him.
"Mo gootu. Chone yes. . . .Though Doe victory Sa Doe Publiko's, Chuba mine." He responds effortlessly and her eyes widen… Gods… She needs much more practice at this. In the beginning she'd believed Huttese to be a simplistic language, one she'd learn quickly but it is much more difficult to manoeuvre her way through the words than she'd ever anticipated when taking up this venture. It's a rough language, difficult to romanticise or enjoy whispering to him but she's trying for Anakin's sake to learn everything she can. Her palms press against his warm skin as she thinks, mind racing. Some of the words are familiar enough to understand their meaning right away, but others… She has no idea. Good, she thinks he began with… Good. And yes... Though the victory is … The Republic's… Not mine. Yes, that's it!
"Perhaps so… Noleeya Doe eyes of everyone else. But…" She trails off, unsure of the words she needs for a moment, hesitating until she remembers. "Noleeya mine U're Do hero Ani." Leaning down to press a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades, she thinks of her words and hopes she got them right, and the translation has not been lost. Perhaps so in the eyes of everyone else. But in mine you're a hero Ani. Her hero, her Jedi love and husband… He deserves all the praise she can give him and more. He – and all the other Jedi fighting these battles – deserve the thanks of everyone in the Republic ten times over for their sacrifices. After all, some like Anakin must carry theirs with them every day. Every time she looks at the durasteel arm, replacement of what he's lost, she remembers the suffering he endured. Her fingers trace the length of his arm, until they reach the cold metal. As she expects he flinches, but does not tear himself away from her touch as he once did. He's less self-loathing about it now, but still so bitter. How many times as she assured him he's no less of a man in her eyes? In anyone's eyes. "Mee Vupee U. . . All of U." She reminds him, lacing her fingers through his and feels the cold against her skin of him accepting the small embrace and returning it. The love words she offers – I love you. All of you – were some of the very first words he taught her and they fall the easiest off her tongue.
"Mee breathe Che U." He whispers, turning his head again and Padme can't hold back her smile, he's a wordsmith, stringing the most romantic sentences together in ways that would make others sound like fools, but Anakin, always so dramatic, it works for him. I breathe for you. Suddenly she can't resist kissing him a moment longer, and does so, gently. In moments like these, he kisses her as if he can't quite believe she's allowing him to do this, as if he's about to wake from one of his dreams and find himself alone so he must memorise everything about her before that happens… Pulling back, she smiles against his lips and feels him return the favour.
"How do you say, I'm glad I send my staff out for the day?" She asks and hears him chuckle then feels his nose nudge hers playfully. Despite the war raging on out there in the galaxy he finds a way to make her feel so light, to make everything seem good even just for a little while. Does she do the same for him? It's what she strives to do whenever he's home, Padme wants to be his respite from the horrors he sees, whatever atrocities he faces out there, she want him to forget them all when they're together. He never talks about what happens, despite how she tries to make him open up, so perhaps her attempts have worked? At least, this is what she wants to tell herself.
"Mee'm glad Mee sent Myo staff Nenoleeya Che Doe day." He translates for her, and she nods… Yes that sounds about right.
"Mee'm glad Mee sent Myo staff Nenolya Che Doe day." She repeats, attempting to roll her tongue around the words as effortlessly as he does but she's very much afraid she butchers them horrendously instead. Her confirmation comes when Anakin turns around fully, climbing onto the bed close to her and smirks. He really enjoys this teacher role, isn't he? They're kneeling face to face and even now he's still so much taller than her that it's just not fair.
"Nenoleeya." He corrects, empathising the second half of the word so she can repeat it correctly this time. Which she does quietly, and reaches out to trace her fingers over his heartbeat at the same time. She likes communicating with him like this, there are very few people around them who understand Huttese, so when they exchange a few words in front of anyone else, they can say whatever they wish and no one has any idea what's passing their lips. She gets a secret thrill out of it. Smirking, Padme reaches up for the newly tied braid he wears and tugs gently, pulling him down for another kiss. At first he gasps at her boldness, and then quickly melts into the embrace, wrapping strong arms around her and holding her close.
He sucks on her bottom lip and the moan that escapes her lips surprises her… She sounds so… Wanton. Though him pulling such sounds from her lips should be no shock by now. In return she shuffles closer, but Anakin has a different idea and lowers them down into the pillows, hovering over her as their tongues come out to begin the age old sensual dance. It's only when his lips abandon her own and begin to explore the skin of her jaw that she finds the ability to speak again, one hand moving to tangle in his cropped locks as she does so. "How… How long do we have before you're expected in the Temple?"
"Long enough." Comes his murmured response, muffled somewhat against her skin. She'd shake her head but she's enjoying this far too much for that. His rough hands wonder along the subtle curves of her waist over the thin material of her nightgown until she expects him to reverse their positons or reach beneath her to cup her rear but instead he surprises her when he pulls back and simply looks at her for a long moment. The hand in his hair comes down to cup his cheek gently, thumb stroking the bone beneath his skin.
"What is it?"
"Nothing… Just…" He shakes his head and just as she's about to begin worrying, the most beautiful grin breaks out across his face, awakening a smile of her own. This is a happy moment, and for that she's relieved. They need as many of these as they can be blessed with. "Mee'm Doe luckiest Nek Noleeya Doe world." He mutters, voice deep and rough in the way that warms her blood in the most decadent way. Gods… She could listen to him talk like that all day, and night… However… What he's said this time, the meaning is lost on her. She can't string together the familiar words and make sense of the ones she hasn't leaned yet. Frowning, Padme tries to piece together what he says but her mind can't make sense of it this time so she's lest frowning helplessly beneath him until he's laughing and kissing her all over again. "I'm the luckiest man in the world." He translates breathlessly when they break apart again. Luckiest man in the world… Yes, she makes note to practice more when he leaves her.
"No, I'm the luckiest woman in the world." She corrects him this time, shaking her head. She truly is the luckiest woman in all the galaxy for being loved by him… All that love, the passion swirling in his chest, it's all for her and what woman doesn't dream of being adored like this? And more than that, he's opened her eyes to a different kind of life; one she hadn't been sure was for her for so long. Sometimes Padme can imagine herself settling down with him in Varykino, starting a family of their own… A secret fantasy she doesn't dare speak aloud, not even to him. They're in the middle of a war! One he fights personally, on the front lines, it feels selfish to imagine such things when so many are suffering so needlessly across the galaxy. Still, perhaps, when the conflict is over they can have that life… They'd be happy, so long as they're together, it would be bliss.
Though she supposes, right here, now in this very moment with Anakin's lips showering the hollow of her throat with such wonderful attention she feels something close to bliss anyway.
Please review!