The first chapter is based off episode 4x04, Shadow Warrior. It's quite short, but I hope y'all enjoy anyway! Reviews are much appreciated!
Padme's palms sweated, and she tried to wipe them inconspicuously on the silken fabric of her dress. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this nervous-growing up in a life of politics does that to you. But it was different this time, it was personal. With Anakin's life on the line, she'd struggled to keep her cool, but has quickly learnt that there was no negotiating with Dooku. You either did as he said, or paid the price. She was glad, in a way, that they were on such good terms with the Gungans, as without their help Padme would have been forced to leave her husband with that vile Sith. She was thankful that Grievous had not yet been handed over to the Republic, because then it would have been up to the Jedi Council to get Anakin back, and whilst she had no doubt they would be successful, she dreaded to think what could happen to Anakin in that time.
The droid ship landed, turbulence from the engines whistling past them. With a groan, it settled on the ground, and with a hiss the doors slid open. Padme's hands were fisted in the fabric of her dress as she craned her neck as far as she could to spot her husband. She had to know he was safe.
A barely concealed gasp slipped from her mouth as the small group of droids dragged Anakin's unmoving form across the hard ground. She could tell he was still conscious from the slight twitching of his left leg, presumably trying to muster the strength to stand. She wanted to rush forward and relinquish the droids of their bounty, but she had to act poised and unaffected. Their secret had to be safe.
Padme watched in despair as General Grievous' clanking shadow swept past her, eager to regain his freedom. The droids carrying Anakin stopped a few metres from them and chucked his body the rest of the way. He landed harshly on his front and a small moan slipped out. Wordlessly, the droids turned and left, and Padme dropped down beside her husband, turning him over and pulling his head into her lap.
"Padme..." Anakin muttered through his dry and cracked lips. She stroked the side of his face, her fingers tentatively skimming over the dried blood and forming bruises that blotched his face. "I'm sorry. It's...my fault."
"No, Ani." She whispered. "It's not." Carefully, she reached an arm around his waist and lifted him upwards, barely managing to get him on his feet. She hooked his mechanical arm around her shoulders, hoping it would fare better than the rest of him, and slowly began to lead him away-his limping gait making progress slow but she could see the med ship waiting for them. He was going to be fine, she reassured herself, and simply let herself rejoice that he was alive; a precious gift in these times, and one she was careful to treasure.