Rating: T (Very mature themes)
Despite this story being about Anakin and Padmé's honeymoon night, it contains neither a lemon nor a lime, so no worries. Nevertheless, as the rating states, it does contain very adult themes that some might be sensitive to, so be warned. This is just something that has been pestering my muse for a while, because we all know that despite the 'yippees' and unusually roomy living conditions, Anakin's childhood on Tatooine was not happy-go-lucky by any stretch of the imagination.
The sun had set entirely. The priest had gone. The cool night air blew a breeze through the villa, making the leaves on the plants rustle and bringing the smell of water to the balcony. Anakin and Padmé had spent what felt like an eternity on the balcony standing together after the priest had left, sharing kisses, laughter, and so many unspoken sentiments. Artoo and Threepio had both powered down for the night after wandering to another part of the building. It was just them now.
Padmé had watched Anakin, her face growing softer, her eyes brighter, brushing a kiss on his neck before walking indoors. She had paused at the entrance with a smile Anakin had never seen before, seductive and alluring, and he'd shuddered. That had been nearly half an hour ago. He wasn't sure what she was doing now, though he had a good inkling.
Who knows, he thought foolishly, hopefully. Maybe she's asleep.
Asleep. As if she'd be asleep this night of all nights. As if she weren't waiting for her new husband to join her. Anakin shuddered again.
Maybe he could just wait a little longer, at least. Taking a step towards the railing, he rested his hands on it, gazing forlornly at his right mechanical limb. He hated himself for screwing up so terribly, hated Dooku for committing the act… Padmé had looked so worried when she'd seen it, but she'd taken it in her own beautiful hands and told him it would be fine. And he'd felt all the worse for it; here she was, holding his hand in her own and he couldn't even feel the warmth of her skin.
You could if you went indoors, a voice whispered with some degree of sly humor, and he groaned, rolling his eyes before the shudder that tore through him silenced it entirely.
He needed to walk. That would eliminate the issue. Get rid of all this extra energy. He took a deep breath, but the stairs looked like a kilometer away. He clenched his jaw, his heartrate speeding up.
What had he done? Marrying Padmé was amazing, no doubt – he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he wanted to love her and be loved by her in return, but this? Did this have to be part of it? Why couldn't they have just taken their vows, kissed, spoken longingly about a future without secrets and restrictions and then gone to sleep like normal people?
If you want to be like normal people…
"No," he growled finally, heading towards the stairs.
"Anakin?"
He nearly jumped out of his skin, having been too lost in thought to even sense her approach. He turned around and saw Padmé standing in the entranceway, wearing a pale blue silk nightgown. The straps on her shoulders were very thin, and she wore no robe to cover herself. Worst (best?) of all, the bosom was nothing but lace, and Anakin felt himself blush as he glanced in that general area, and then he hastily averted his gaze.
Padmé leaned against the doorway, cocking her head to the side and smiling. "Are you coming?"
Anakin swallowed. "N-n… uh…"
He eventually just bit his lip and turned away entirely, unable to speak for so many reasons. Grunts, screams, terror, desire, memories and current feelings… they all swirled in his mind, making him shudder for the millionth time that night.
"Ani?"
The nickname made him turn, easing the knot in his stomach just a hair. Padmé was no longer looking at him that way, and some of his conflict resolved with relief. She now looked concerned and confused, her sharp brow drawn together, her eyes soft but probing. The Force warmed, smoothing the waves of passion that had originally been crashing around her.
"You… look beautiful," Anakin stammered, her change in demeanor allowing him to regain his voice.
She smiled at the compliment, but it was a gentle smile, one that didn't promise what she had earlier, one that didn't make him shake from head to foot, one that didn't make him want to run away and run towards her at the same time.
"Ani, what's wrong?" she asked softly.
Anakin tried to speak when his eyes accidentally settled on the lace once more, and he debated for a moment before taking his robe off and wrapping it around her. Padmé looked at the robe as he draped it over her shoulders and then stared at him, now looking even more confused. "Anakin, what are you doing?"
"It's cold," he tried to argue feebly, even though it was actually quite comfortable outside, even by his standards.
Padmé chuckled, her mind whispering incorrect assumptions. "Do you still get cold so easily? I'm fine."
Anakin was going to reply when Padmé wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. "Besides, it's much warmer inside."
She leaned towards him, her gaze drifting to his lips, and Anakin almost fell for it, but this time he pushed her away. "N-no, Padmé… it's… I can't."
He blushed fiercely at this declaration as the issue came to a head, and he quickly tried to retrace his steps. "What I mean is… we can just… you know… wait, or sleep, or… talk. We could go for a walk – it's a nice night, and—"
"Go for a walk?" his newlywed wife repeated, her tone a little flat, making him flinch. However, her annoyance didn't last; instead, she asked, "What do you mean you can't?"
Chooba, he really shouldn't have said that. But why should he hide it? He told her about the Tuskens… but that was something he'd done, not something that had been done to him, done to his mother. Even Obi-Wan didn't know about this…
"Anakin?"
"I—I just—I—" he grew steadily more frantic as he tried to back out of this unsettling situation entirely, but Padmé took his hands in her own, not even flinching at the cold metal touch.
"What's wrong?" she repeated her earlier question, even softer than before.
"I love you," he immediately said as if to convince her this wasn't because he didn't. "I love you so much."
"Ani…"
"I just can't," he insisted, shaking his head. "Please."
Padmé grew instantly confused, even alarmed. This apparently wasn't what she'd been expecting at all. "Why not?"
"Because I love you," he tried to explain.
Padmé's face morphed from mild alarm to complete bewilderment. "Anakin, that doesn't make any sense."
Anakin took a deep breath and stepped away from her. He supposed he would have to explain it. The thought of it made his skin crawl. "I don't… it isn't right. I won't do that to you, I won't treat you like that."
"Treat me like that?"
Anakin grew desperate, walking towards her again and cupping her face with his left hand. "Padmé, I'm not here to dominate you, I love you."
"Dominate?" she repeated, staring at him like he'd lost his mind, but finally, finally it started to click. "Ani… does this have to do with your mother?"
Anakin immediately stepped away like he'd been smacked. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually did dignify her with an answer. "Slavery… wasn't easy on her. On either of us. When people think of you as property, they… they treat you like property."
He shook his head violently to rid himself of the memories, the terror, the pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them to look at his wife, his beautiful wife who he would never ever hurt like that. Never. "I won't do that to you. I won't."
Padmé's confusion was gone. In its stead was horror before compassion began to take its place. She walked towards him slowly, extending her hand gradually as if to a frightened youngling. Anakin felt both at ease and irritated with the gesture – he wasn't a youngling, blast it, but he was trembling like one.
When she reached him, Padmé brushed her hand against his cheek and pulled him towards the railing. She began to sit, wrapping the cloak around her more tightly, hiding most of her nightgown, and Anakin slid to the ground beside her. Then she hugged him, but he almost drew back, the memories still fresh in his mind. However, the more she held him, the more her presence in the Force pushed the memories away like purifying water flowing through his mind. Eventually he sank into the embrace, his heartrate slowing, his body relaxing, more at ease than he'd been since he didn't even know when.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her thumb tracing circles on his chest. "I'm so sorry you had to experience that. This is nothing like that, Anakin. What they did… what they did was an abhorrent act, an abuse of something that should be beautiful. It isn't about domination or lust, Anakin… it's about love."
"Padmé…" he began hesitantly.
"It's true," she said softly, pulling away to give him a small smile that made his heart melt. "This is about love, about trust. It's the physical representation of our marriage; two as one."
Her words affected him more than he'd thought they would. His eyes stung, and he looked down hastily to prevent her from seeing the tears. His attempt apparently failed, however, as she immediately wiped the tears away and tipped his head up to look her in the eye. Her face held openness, sincerity, and love, pure and unadulterated. She practically glowed in the dark through the Force, and he felt almost ridiculous being near such an amazing person. He didn't deserve her.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked, still smiling. "As you said, it is a beautiful night."
Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded mutely. Steadily, the pair stood and walked side by side, not speaking during the entire duration of their excursion. They had no particular path and no particular pace, only walking arm in arm, one struggling to come to terms with the situation while the other struggled to understand how to approach it. But as they walked more, Anakin felt calmer, and though a part of him dreaded the remainder of the night, another part, which to his chagrin had always been in the background, was rather looking forward to it. He felt revulsion at first and tried to shove it down, but as time passed, Padmé's words started to sink in.
She wouldn't lie about such a subject, so what she'd said had to be true. What Padmé said was always true. Maybe it was a beautiful thing, if between the right people. But he… he still…
He thought back to his words to her: I won't do that to you. Was that what it was about? He didn't want her to feel the way he and his mother had? Or was it that he didn't want her to do that to him? She wouldn't – she would never hurt him like that, just as he wouldn't hurt her like that.
Perhaps that was all he needed to realize, then. The tightness in his muscles gradually relaxed as they neared the villa after what felt like an eternity. Padmé glanced at him questioningly, and he paused before nodding hesitantly. The pair strolled in that general direction, though Anakin dragged his feet and Padmé did nothing to speed things up. Eventually they were back where they'd started.
Padmé faced Anakin, saying nothing. Anakin said nothing in return. Through the Force she felt totally open, waiting for him to trust her. And he did, he did trust her…
Sighing, he gave her a timid smile. She mirrored it with care, and slowly, the two made their way inside.
Padmé truly was an angel. The radiance that shone from her was enough to purify anything, and that night, she cleansed one of the darkest stains of Anakin's childhood. He learned that so long as they loved each other, all would be right with the galaxy.
Fin
