A/N: I wrote this back in July one night when I couldn't sleep. If you spot any spelling errors, that's why lol.
This is just a sweet moment that popped into my head and asked very politely if it could be written. I kind of went for the older Hollywood feel the prequels have; it quite suits these two. Enjoy, and please leave a review with what you liked about this (or simply "I liked this" if you're shy). Feedback is like nectar and ambrosia to authors. :)
In the near-dark of the Coruscant night, Padmé studied her husband's profile.
In sleep, he did not appear younger - as Eirtaé's holobooks would suggest a lover look at night- simply unburdened, and she hated that even here in the sanctuary of their bedroom there were reminders of the endless war that enveloped the galaxy; Anakin did not appear stressed, and so her mind turned to death.
She traced the lines of his face with a finger tip, so caught up in her bitter thoughts that she did not notice him wake until he brought his own hand up to trace her face. She startled, then winced. In a low whisper, she said,
"I'm sorry I woke you-" Anakin interrupted her with a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Any time, Padmé." He slipped his hand into her own and squeezed it softly. Their hands rested now atop the pillow in the slight space between them. Something tight in her chest eased at the sincerity that glimmered in his eyes alongside the reflected mid-night glow of traffic that one could never be rid of in the galaxy's capitol. She knew what he said to be true, but even she: child queen, bold senator, wife to a jedi knight, needed reassurance about that which she knew to be true, on occasion. She nodded in acknowledgment and sighed.
"I'm just tired of the war. It seems there is no escaping it, even here in our home, where we should be safe."
"I know," Anakin said softly, bringing his free hand up to caress her face. "I worry every moment. That I will lose Ahsoka, my Master, my place in the Order." Padmé suppressed a wince.
"The worst is when I dream of losing you," he continued soberly. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you."
"Oh, Ani," she sighed. He would break her heart one day, saying such things. She loosed her hand and brought both hands up to cup his face.
"You are a great man. You will lead rescue missions and battles, guide Ahsoka along her path, and see the end of the war. With or without me," she said firmly. Anakin shifted suddenly and shadows drenched most of his face. His hands clutched at hers where they rested on his face and it nearly hurt.
"I would much rather see the end with you by my side," Anakin said tightly. He tugged at her hands until they slipped from his cheeks and wove their fingers together.
Padmé pulled their knotted hands to her chest and wriggled closer until she could feel both of their hearts beating. "As would I."
"You need to rest," Padmé said abruptly. She had had her fill of heavy talk for the night, and Anakin was to receive his new orders in the morning. Anakin hummed, no doubt thinking the same as she.
"Any time, my love," he reaffirmed. Anakin shifted around until he was comfortable again, their hands rearranging until they all rested atop his chest. Already his eyes were beginning to droop.
"Goodnight Ani, my love," she breathed out as he drifted back to sleep, enviably long lashes settling against his pronounced cheekbones. Padmé sometimes envied his hard-won ability to sleep any time in any conditions at the drop of a hat. For tonight, however, she was content to trace the lines of his face with her eyes and cling to the sliver of peace their late night talk had brought her. Dark thoughts continued to hound her until exhaustion bade her sleep.